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#bucky barnes is a dummy
buckysimp101 · 2 years
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Everything the Light Touches (18+) - Masterlist
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Mafia!Bucky Barnes x F!Reader
Summary: It started with two kids. Two stupidly in-love kids, forcefully separated with threats of violence and war. One destined to inherit part of the seedy underworld of Manhattan, one blissfully ignorant of their role in it. Their lives split ten years ago but now they’re back. Secrets will be uncovered, lies will be revealed, and empires will fall.
Story Warnings: Smut, Language, Violence, Death, MINORS DNI. More specific warnings will be added at the beginning of each chapter.
a/n: Oooooooh boy! Let’s get into it friends! Taglist is open, send me a message or leave a comment if you wish to be added to it!  Also, I know this fic has the same name as the Lion King quote and I promise it’ll make sense when we get started lol. This is a WIP & will be cross-posted on AO3 & Wattpad if you prefer to read it there! Same username for these three platforms.
Main Story
Chapter One 
Chapter Two
Chapter Three 
Chapter Four 
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen 
Chapter Sixteen 
Chapter Seventeen 
Chapter Eighteen 
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty (coming soon)
Updates
Hiatus Announcement 3/18/2023
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gyokujyn · 23 days
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CATWS 10th Anniversary | April 3rd » Prompts: Cap Quartet for @catws-anniversary
a loving homage to A Softer World and @asofteravenger
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Kiss the Girl
Bucky Barnes x female reader
Requested. Thank you for the request! I hope you enjoy it and if you do please consider liking, reblogging and commenting! 
Internal thoughts are bolded and italicized. Fluff. Friends in love with each other. 
Summary: Y/N has been friends with Bucky for a few years and ever since they met, the two have had feelings for each other but neither acted on those feelings. until now.
Bucky is across the room and can’t keep his eyes off Y/N. Tonight was Tony’s big engagement party. Bucky wasn’t excited about it, he planned on staying home however, Steve and Sam dragged him along. But looking over at Y/N standing there with Wanda made it all worth it, Y/N had to be a true goddess. Bucky now can say he has met Gods, seeing as he is friends with Thor, and he…knows Loki but Y/N, well Y/N was a goddess that wasn’t classified as one but to him, she had to be Aphrodite. She was the definition of beauty to him but deserved better than him. He… was a beast.
What Bucky doesn’t know is that while he is in his spot, standing and trying to focus on Steve’s story, Y/N is over with Wanda trying to figure out a way to talk to him. “Honey, you two are good friends, just go up to him and ask him to talk privately. You have to tell him how you feel, you’re driving yourself mad.” Wanda has been trying to convince Y/N that it’d all work out since the party started but the what if’s kept clouding her mind. What if I ruin our friendship? What if he doesn’t feel the same way? What if he has feelings for someone else? What if…
“Are you ever going to go up to her tonight or are you going to keep being a weirdo who just stares at pretty ladies Cyborg?” Sam laughs at the look on Bucky's face. He didn’t think he got caught staring but as he looked around everyone he was supposed to be listening to is looking at him with a knowing smile. “Shut it” Bucky grunts embarrassed as a blush spreads on his face. “Y/N is into you Buck, just go over to her and ask her to talk in private.” Steve rests his hand on Bucky's shoulder in a supportive manner and he slightly pushes Bucky towards Y/N and Wanda. Thoughts are racing through Bucky’s head as he walks over to her. What if I ruin our friendship? What if she doesn’t feel the same way? What if she has feelings for someone else? What if…
Wanda lets out soft gasps while looking over Y/N’s shoulder. Whispering she lets Y/N know that “ Oh my gosh, Y/N he’s coming over here.” Y/N’s eyes widen “Wanda I can’t talk to him right now. How's my makeup? How's my hair, is my outfit still ok?” Wanda cuts off Y/N’s panicked ramble, “Honey, you look gorgeous! You always do so hush up, breathe, and go talk to him” Wanda watches Y/N take a deep breath before turning around just as Bucky reaches the two ladies. “ Hey, um is it okay if I steal Y/N for a moment, please?” Wanda smiles at the two of them, “Of course, Vision just arrived anyhow” Walking past them to go talk to Vision, Wanda leaves the two alone. “It’s kind of loud in here, can we talk somewhere private doll?” Bucky asks nervously but as he sees Y/N smile up at him his nerves leave him. “Yeah let’s step outside” Unbeknownst to the two of them Wanda, Steve, Sam and everyone else watches what they hope to be a future couple leave to go outside.
Stepping outside the two of them look everywhere beside each other, Y/N decides to break the silence as she turns towards Bucky. At first, she takes in his features, ‘God he’s beautiful and he looks like a God under the moonlight. Okay get it together Y/N this isn’t a stranger you’ve talked to him many times’ Taking a deep breath she finally asks “So what did you want to talk about Buck?” Turning towards her his breathing hitches and he feels his heart stop. How is she ever more beautiful? How is that possible? Catching his breath he gathers his courage and decides to just rip off the band aid. “Y/N we have known each other for a few years now, and it's been great really but I don’t think I can be friends anymore.” Y/N’s heart drops, what? Did he find out about her feeling for him? She thought she was being careful. Seeing the concerned look on her face Bucky realizes how what he just said might not have been the best phrasing “I didn’t mean it in a bad way!” He tries to reassure her quickly, “I mean… God Y/N I have feelings for you. Feelings I don’t remember ever having for anyone else before and I don’t understand them, they’re scary but I can’t keep them to myself anymore. I completely understand if you don’t feel the same way, I mean look at you, you’re so beautiful and you’re so sweet and you have never judged me in any way. How could I not fall in love with you?”
Y/N is stunned. Not only does Bucky love her but he doesn’t think he's good enough for her. What?? Seeing her shocked expression, Bucky takes it as a bad thing, thinking he’s about to get rejected he decides it would be best to leave instead. As he goes to walk away Y/N reaches out and grabs his hand. “Bucky, how could I not feel the same way for you? I’ve loved you for what feels like years now and yeah it's scary. It’s intense but you’re worth it. James, I love you too.” The two of them stare at each other lovingly, how could they not after love confessions like that? The two of them walk closer to one another, Bucky holds Y/N’s hand tighter and goes to caress her face with his other hand. "Can I kiss you?" Bucky asks nervously, she may have just confessed her love for him but that doesn't mean he can just kiss her. Giggling that giggle that brightens Bucky's day, a gentle blush graces her checks before she nods softly. The two of them lean in closer, soft breaths hit each other's skin as they lean in closer, Y/N gets in her tiptoes and then their lips touch as softly as a feather landing on the ground. Feeling his lips on hers, Y/N softly let's out a gasp. Bucky smiles against her and pulls her closer to him deepening the kiss all they feel is each other. But all they hear is their friends cheering from the window.
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Request are open!!! 
If there is anything you’d like me to write just let me know :) 
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littleghoulghost · 9 months
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Was thinking about my fictional crushes and my boyfriend and had this thought:
That ass could make the Titanic float on air.
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six-demon-bag · 10 months
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Wrist Deep Honesty: chapter 2
Pairing: Bucky Barnes/Helmut Zemo
Summary: Bucky gets dosed with sex pollen on a mission. He seems completely under control, at least until Zemo comes in.
Rating: Explicit
Tags: Sex Pollen, Pining, Mutual Pining, Fuck Or Die, Oral Sex, Fisting, Misunderstandings, Bucky Barnes Has a Praise Kink, Angst, Happy Ending
Word count: 2834
Link: ch2: bucky
Full fic: Wrist Deep Honesty
Excerpt: 
The house is chilled and too silent and Bucky is vibrating with tension, wishing he could figure out the right thing to say to Zemo, wishing Sam would come back and somehow fix this mess Bucky made. If he hadn’t fucked up and broken that vial, everything would still be fine. He wouldn’t be dreaming of Zemo’s warm eyes and soft smile at night, and being slowly crushed by his impersonal politeness during the day.
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rogersstevie · 2 years
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people using the hydra symbol to represent bucky in aesthetic posts is so goddamn annoying and gross i can’t stand y’all
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gyuho · 2 months
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the boys :3
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jen-with-a-pen · 2 months
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𝗙𝗜𝗟𝗧𝗛𝗬, 𝗜𝗠𝗣𝗘𝗧𝗨𝗢𝗨𝗦 𝗦𝗢𝗨𝗟𝗦
summary: After what you assumed would be a successful mission, things veer off-course and you're stuck with Bucky Barnes in Istanbul with no way out until morning. The tension between you comes to head and nothing will be the same again.
parings: Protective!Avenger!Bucky Barnes x Sniper!Agent!Curvy!F!Reader
word count: 6.5K
warnings: enemies to lovers, angst, canon-level violence with just a bit more blood, guns, reader is a sniper/sharp-shooter, hate-making out, degradation, fighting, insults and cursing, teasing/banter, reader and bucky don't know how to talk about their feelings (or to eachother), spanking, doggy, angry-horny, rough-ish sex, pent up anger, pent up sexual tension, power dynamics, protective!Bucky, vague hinting to Bucky's PTSD, no use of y/n, reader is tagged as curvy and is described as such but body description is kept to a minimum
a/n: this work is for @targaryenvampireslayer's Blind Date Writing Challenge! My prompts were "enemies to lovers" and "Again! Please, again!" I am incredibly thankful to Suz for letting me participate. I haven't been able to participate in a challenge since forever ago 😅 ALSO! This is my first time writing enemies to lovers, as well as curvy!reader! even though i'm curvy myself, i hope i did okay ♥ This work is not beta-read. all mistakes are my own. If any mistake is glaringly obvious, please feel free to message me and let me know! p.s. I listened to a lot of PVRIS + Nothing But Thieves writing this, can ya tell? p.p.s. the amount of willpower and struggle with my muse it took to finish this is... a lot. i think she scratched my cornea at some point.
If I’ve missed any tags, PLEASE let me know!
gif by @unearthlydust | dividers by @cafekitsune | warning banner by me ♥
my ao3 | my masterlist title from: You Know Me Too Well by Nothing But Thieves Read this fic HERE on ao3! ♥Reblogs and comments are highly appreciated as always♥
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𝙥𝙧𝙤𝙡𝙤𝙜𝙪𝙚
Bucky Barnes has always hated you, and you have always hated Bucky Barnes. At least since you first met, that is. 
Being the newest recruit– and only sharp-shooter–  to grace the S.H.I.E.L.D. Direct Action Team’s roster since signing on the Sergeant James “Bucky” Barnes, the hostility was almost immediate from the second you walked in your first day. 
You couldn’t help cringing– which would be quickly followed by raging annoyance and a slight migraine– without remembering your first time training with Bucky. He made it crystal clear he didn’t trust your previous experience or trainers, let alone your sniper training. Within the first week he ground your spirit into dust with his leather combat boots, quashing any attempts to defend yourself. And it’s not like you weren’t familiar with his history, either; he’d broken every single last sharp-shooter that came to the team before you, a hardass ex-assassin with an introverted mean streak who happened one of the top snipers in the United States Army during World War II. Old dogs certainly can learn new tricks, though, and it was extremely apparent when it came to Bucky Barnes.
When you finally had enough midway through the third week, you snapped at him after he corrected you for the umpteenth time on your foot positioning, pointedly informing him you weren’t built like you could take on a goddamned semi-truck with one hand.
Once you finished, he silently handed you a pistol and challenged you to a shoot off. One-handed. You considered it a tie. Tony considered the training range off-limits until he got government permission via S.H.I.E.L.D. to replace every single shooting target and torso dummy in the compound– including the extras.
After that, the two of you weren’t allowed in the gym, on the same mode of transportation, in the infirmary, or the training range without someone else to supervise with a tranquilizer gun at the ready and within arm’s reach of said supervisor. More often than not, though, the ‘someone else’ was either Steve or Natasha– depending who won the coin toss before training that day– and the tranquilizer gun wasn’t really more of a tranquilizer gun than it was a slight sedative to calm each of you down enough for either Steve, or Nat, to drag you out without kicking and screaming at each other. Granted, it only happened one time– a workout competition-turned-sparring match that lasted the better part of four hours– but everyone else agreed to keep it around. Just in case.
You learned, however, exactly how much ketamine it took to down a raging super soldier with a vibranium arm. You couldn’t help but make horse whinnies under your breath every time you passed Bucky in the compound for at least a week. 
With a year of domestic missions underneath your belt, S.H.I.E.L.D. constituted you ready to travel with the DA Team on international missions and operations. You were elated, excited to prove your worth and wit to everyone; especially Bucky, because maybe then he’d be at least keen enough to start showing you a drop of respect.  
Then there was the fallout of when you both learned you’d be sent on the next mission. Together. Albeit with Natasha and Clint– but together. 
Fury said he didn’t have a choice. Tony claimed it was out of his hands. Natasha, while protecting a cowering Steve from the flames and daggers shooting out of yours and Bucky’s glares, flat out told you, “either you both learn to work together, or neither of you are working DA missions again,” adding, with gritted teeth and a pinched bridge, “The whole team thinks you’re a fucking pair of walking time bombs. I don’t wanna use the damn ketamine gun again.”
The next thing you knew, you were on a plane to Turkey with your rifle, wits, and the waiting promise of separate hotel rooms upon arrival. 
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A reddened sun dipped over the Istanbul skyline, swathing the city in shadows. Dusk was imminent as you ascended the rusted fire escape and stepped onto the roof of the abandoned building; the dilapidated outside was perfect enough to designate it as the main stake out location. You sighed in awe at the view, catching the remnants of the sunset while pausing for a brief break before switching into ‘work mode.’ 
“Stop fuckin’ around, get into position,” Bucky said through your ear piece. Shit. You forgot he could see your video feed via the harness crossing over your chest and the cameras Natasha set up on the roof and the building next door. 
“Sorry, Sarge, thought I’d enjoy the view before I dome some fuckin’ war criminal from a thousand yards away,” you huffed. The line went silent, save from what sounded like very faint cursing amidst the static. You rolled your eyes, swinging the gun bag off your back, unpacking and assembling and loading, preparing for working on yet another thrilling Saturday night.
You silently prayed the hotel had a decent bar with decent hours.
Dropping into a prone position, you were thankful for the custom-fit tac suit that hugged your body as your hips and thighs scraped against debris littering the roof as you positioned the scope of your rifle, placing your hand delicately on the trigger. 
“In position,” you muttered, adjusting into a more comfortable, ready-to-bail position in case things went south. When you shot prone, it felt as if the mission at hand weighed just a bit heavier than others. More unbearable. The tactical suit and additional weapons attached to your aching body rivaled that of cinder blocks chained to your legs, weighing you down to the ocean floor in an attempted drowning while you tried to stay above water.
It's never gotten easier, but it's never been harder. 
The past two days had been filled with inconsistent sleep, hiding out, and keeping watch, all while under the watchful eye of Bucky. Bucky, who was watching you from inside the stakeout building, who threw a super soldier temper tantrum about having to figure out the ‘nonsensical logistics’ of how to stream a fucking live video feed, who barely bothered to say a word to you while meeting Natasha at the location that morning– aside from graciously allowing you to borrow his weapons cleaning kit. 
“You didn’t bring your own?” He cocked a judgmental brow at you, looking you up and down like a creature that crawled out of the Black Lagoon. Steely sea-blue eyes met yours, sharp and bright. Challenging. The collar of your tactical suit had instantly tightened.
“Figured we both use the same stuff, might as well bring the one to save space,” you shrugged, cocking a hip. 
Bucky’s eyes flitted to your pronounced curve before you straightened, swallowing. 
“Fine. Go nuts,” he sighed reluctantly, gesturing for you to sit in the guarded seat across from him. You sensed his piercing gaze follow you, feeling the same heat creep up your neck and cheeks just like all the other times he watched you. You chocked it up to an intimidation tactic, because it sure as hell worked.
You shook Bucky out of your brain. You needed to stay focused.  
“Copy. Target is en route to position, t-minus two minutes. Make it clean and make it quick.” Natasha's voice was cool, calming you and the usual racing thoughts in your head during these types of missions. You preferred her over anyone else to be your spotter since your first time out in the field, but this time she was assigned to be the plant, luring the target away from the rather innocent party-goers so they wouldn’t be splattered with brain matter and skull fragments courtesy of you.
Though, you had to admit, in the right scenarios, that was one of the more satisfying things that came with being a sniper.
“Don’t fuckin’ rush it,” Bucky chimed in.
You rolled your eyes, ignoring him. “Copy, Nat, just keep dangling the carrot.”
“You know I’ll do more than that. Out.” You could hear her wink. 
Two minutes might not seem like much, but missions like these can make it feel like a lifetime. Part of you hoped Bucky watched every second. The other half hoped you could smack the doubtful smirk off his stubble-ridden face– the same exact one he had whenever he watched you train. It was like he wanted you to fail. Like he was expecting it, anticipating it. 
You pinched your wrist. Now was not the fucking time. 
You brought the scope closer to your face, targeting the window Natasha would be bringing the target in front of. The crosshairs helped even out the scene while you lined up the shot right between the bedroom’s curtains. You readied yourself, focusing on breathing and controlling the rise and fall of your chest, steadying your bottom half. You blinked, then, and through the sights you spotted the golden shimmer of Natasha’s dress reflecting off the room’s low lighting. Finger on the trigger, delicately squeezing as the target’s head entered into the crosshairs, stepping unknowingly into the middle of your aim, mere seconds left to live, left until he rots in his deserved place in hell. 
Exhale. Inhale. Hold. Pull.
The target dropped in mere milliseconds as the shot reverberated throughout your body, the sound thankfully muffled by your ear pieces and the silencer. The recoil of the rifle dug into your shoulder, fighting against the rest of your body anchored by stiffened muscles. You exhaled, shaky, still, pushing the scope from your face and resting your head on the cool metal of the stock, allowing it to sear into your burning forehead.
“Confirmed kill. Target down. Meet you back at the hotel, over,” Natasha’s breathless voice crackled into your ear. 
“Copy. On my way down. Bucky do you–”
White hot pain suddenly seared through the back of your skull, slamming you face-first into your rifle. You clutched the back of your head, whipping around to be greeted by the dark void of a gun barrel. You froze, blood draining from your face, stomach free-falling as your gaze traveled up to meet crazed eyes and a twisted face. The man– your assaulter– was clad in black with hints of a tattoo running up his neck like blackened veins. No doubt the symbols hidden under his collar belonged to the syndicate run by his boss. The boss you just killed.
He snarled, yellowed teeth glistening in a maniacal grin. “You’re going to pay for that, little bitch,” he spat and nodded to your rifle as he shoved the barrel in your face. The metal practically branded you like marking a cattle for slaughter.
“Try me, prick,” you gritted through ringing pain and a locked jaw, snarling at the man as you rose, slowly, the barrel unmoving as the gun followed your position.
His grin widened. He began pushing you backwards towards the edge of the roof. Quickly, you kicked your foot out, catching his ankle and grabbing his wrist, pointing the gun at the darkened sky as you clawed at his fingers to release it from his grasp. A deafening shot rang out as you wrestled, sending an elbow straight into your jaw that shoved you away. He aimed for you again as you pulled a knife from your waistband, hurling it at any limb you could hit. It nailed him in his thigh, deep enough you knew it hit bone. He dropped the pistol in favor of his leg, allowing you enough of a break to kick the gun off the roof, sliding it off the opposite edge and down the fire escape.
You stood. You noticed the flicker, the fire, in the man’s eyes as it raged, burning brighter than the streetlights below. He yelled as he lunged, knocking you down again. Hard. Lungs deflated, pain seared through your spine, leaving you sputtering and gasping, grasping desperately for anything: his arms, his legs, your knife, your knife in his leg. Your head spun from the impact, rage and bile boiling in your stomach as arms and legs kicked and thrashed. The man grabbed you by your hair as if to scalp you, limping his way to the edge of the roof, dragging you along inch by inch. You deadened, going limp, hoping to make it that much harder for him to drag you with a knife in his fucking femur. Your stomach dropped as the wind picked up and the distance from the fire escape grew farther away. You knew what was in store: a five-story drop onto the hard street below. 
With impressive strength for a man who was actively bleeding out– and bleeding all over you– he swung you around by the fistful of hair in his hands, dangling your bottom half off the edge of the roof. You fought the panic beginning to set in, thrashing your feet around in an attempt to find some sort of foothold as your hands scrambled to grip the ledge. To add insult to injury, he slammed your head down, skull and jaw dropping with a dizzying thump. A gruff laugh erupted from his chest, and he spat at you. You glanced hesitantly over your shoulder. The world stretched and morphed the longer you looked; your eyes saw a fifty-foot drop while your brain saw a thousand foot death sentence. You willed your sore neck to turn back to the man, only to fight the scream that bubbled up your throat at the sight of a miniature pistol pointed execution-style at you. You ceased any movement, eyes widening, grip tightening on the inch-thick ledge of the roof that held you from becoming a human pancake.
“Looks like you’ll pay after all, bitch!” He grinned, cocking the pistol and preparing to fire. As he squeezed the trigger, as you squeezed your eyes shut, there’s a muffled shot, and then a warm, oozing feeling running down your face and neck. Hesitantly, you opened your eyes, greeted by the sight of the man’s jaw slackened as his eyes began to roll back in his skull. A singular bullet wound centered on his forehead leaked brain and blood and bits of bone. He’s shoved over, body falling like a rag doll and spilling onto the roof. He’s quickly replaced by a seething, panting Bucky with a pistol pointed where your would-be-killer stood. Your eyes widened as your chest constricted, fingertips grinding against the edge as your arms burned and begged to be pulled to solid ground. He lowers the gun, lips parted, eyes boring into your soul like he’s seen a ghost. 
“Sar–Bucky, I’m fuckin’ slipping here!” you yelled as your left hand began to give way to gravity. The entirely reasonable request seemed to piss him off even more as he cursed, dropping his gun and grabbing harshly onto your arms, yanking you back up. He dropped you onto the roof in a heap. While your muscles screamed and you hacked up your lungs trying to regain normal oxygen levels, the annoyance you harbored for Bucky returned just as quickly as the gratefulness you had for his rescue faded once he turned his back on you, heading to the fire escape. 
“Thanks, Bucky, but Jesus fucking–”
He whipped around, blue eyes flashing crimson– a warning sign to choose your next words extremely carefully. 
“Clean up n’ get the fuck down. I’m leaving with or without you in ten fucking minutes,” he seethed, fists clenching onto the fire escape bars. You winced at the groaning sound the metal emitted as he bent it out of place, imprinting his palm prints into the bars.
“Bucky, I– What do–” you stuttered. Thoughts were racing as you looked between him and your would-be murderer decaying in his own drying blood a few feet away. You looked back at him. His eyes, swimming with something unrecognizable, mixed with fear and anger plaguing his features– like he remembered something so vivid, so real, that he was reliving it again.
“Just,” he turns his back to you, voice shaking, “get down here.”
He disappeared, leaving you to clean up the mess.
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The back alleyway was lit with a single, softly glowing flood light that led out to the busy streets. Bucky, who was already waiting for you with a furiously tapping foot, surveilled you with a stuck-snarling lip as you jumped down from the fire escape. The gilded plates in his hand leading up under his sleeve glinted with the violet-tinted vibranium. 
There's a moment, a beat, shared between you as you stood to look at him. You stared at one another, gazes unwavering and refusing to break, to blink. The shadows surrounding you began to move as if they were dancing on Bucky's face, sharpening his jaw, his features. He stayed on you, eyes flitting ever-so-slightly over your form. 
Your face burned.
Bucky cleared his throat. “Take a fuckin’ picture why don’t ya?” 
You rolled your eyes. “Could say th’same for you.” 
He grumbled something– probably cursing you– under his breath. As he opened his mouth to hurl an insult your way, both your phones pinged.
♦ Natasha: Taking last flight out of IST. Jet coming early AM. Lay low. Don’t kill each other. Please. Talk soon.
You swallowed a groan. 
“Fuckin’ great,” Bucky muttered, loud enough for you to hear. 
“Uh, okay. Fuck you, too, then,” you shot at him defensively. Knee-jerk reaction. Pinching the bridge of your nose and kicking yourself, you dropped the subject. Not the fight you wanted to pick at that moment. “Let’s– let's just call a cab and get to the hotel.”
“No. I have a bike. And we’re going to a safehouse.”
“Bucky, it's dark enough, my bag is–”
Suddenly, he was much closer than a mere second before, backing you up against the wall of the stakeout building. He beat you in height by a decent amount, but him towering over you really put it in perspective. His broad shoulders heaved, vibranium arm whirring in overdrive as he jabbed a plated finger at you, his face inches from yours. 
“I. Don't. Fucking. Care,” he stabbed each word into your sternum. “Bike’s down at the other end of the block. We're taking it, or you can fuckin’ walk. Doesn't matter to me.” 
You wanted to take his finger and break it.  
You glared, focus shifting between his startlingly bright blue eyes and the strange closeness of his face to yours. It was like you were seeing him– like, actually seeing him– for the first time in high definition. All of his details– the small scars by his hairline, the slight crookedness of his nose, crow’s feet and worry lines beginning to etch themselves into his skin, the indent between his brows– overwhelmed you as your eyes darted all over his face. You snapped back to his glare and were suddenly very conscious of your own facial expression that failed to rival his. You set your jaw and furrowed your brow.
You doubted it was convincing.
“Fine.” 
He stepped back and started striding down the alleyway with you at his heels. Your grip on the straps of the gun bag burned your palms as you tried to keep up with Bucky’s annoyingly long strides. At the intersection between the main street and two shops sat a garage; it appeared closed for the night, but was still open to Bucky, apparently, who pulled a key out from under an unsuspecting plant. He unlocked the large metal door, lifting it to reveal a tiny space that was barely big enough to house the large motorcycle and a workbench scattered with parts and tools. He strolled in like he owned the place and grabbed one of the helmets hanging off the motorcycle’s handles, handing it to you with an outstretched arm as he saddled himself onto the bike. You looked from him to the helmet, mouth agape and brow arched in confusion. 
When you didn’t take it, he rolled his eyes and shook it at you.
“C’mon, we don’t have all night.”
“When the hell did you–”
“I’ve got my ways. Now c’mon, put the damn helmet on,” he huffed, leaning back on the seat. His thick thighs clenched and straddled the gunmetal-body of the motorcycle. You held back the shiver that ran up your back as you crossed your arms, hip cocking out in defiance. In the briefest of pauses, Bucky stilled, and you swore you caught his eyes scanning down your body, your curves and full figure, before snapping back up to meet yours. He scoffed, smirking to himself and shaking his head.
“The fuck are you laughin’ at?” Your face turned hot, prompting your arms to hug tighter over your chest. You felt off balance. 
He said nothing and tossed the helmet to you. Your arms uncrossed and reacted much faster than your brain did as you barely caught it, slipping it on. Pointedly sighing, you relented and climbed onto the bike as Bucky put his own helmet on, sliding the visor down. In the shortly-live silence, your breathing echoed his, the air weighing heavy with anticipation. You were suddenly hyper-aware of every single little touch, every tiny movement made, every breath taken– like a bucket of ice water getting splashed on you, you were present for what felt like the first time that night.
The bike roared to life and Bucky leaned forward to fit his body closer to the handles. 
“Might wanna hang on,” he yelled over the noise. You hesitated, probably for a second too long for Bucky’s liking as he looked behind you and rolled his eyes (you knew he did, even behind the stupid visor.) He reached behind his back and grabbed your wrist, pulling you against him and wrapping your arm around his waist. Your free arm followed suit, tightly embracing him, heart pounding in your chest at the sudden act. You lurched forward as he rode out of the garage and began down the street; the location was a mystery to you, other than you knew it was one of the regular S.H.I.E.L.D. approved safehouses in Istanbul.
Weaving through the other bikes and cars, you couldn’t help but lean closer into Bucky, watching the lights and sights pass by in a blur. Fingers fanned over his abdomen as you held on, feeling the firm leather tac jacket against your skin– which became firmer upon pressing into him and feeling like you were palming a brick wall. Knees fit together at the sides of the bike, shifting ever-so-slightly whenever he braked or shifted. Worst of all, as you hugged your chest into his back, you had a front-row seat in viewing the way his broad shoulders twisted with laser-like precision as he drove.
It took every ounce of energy not to let go and fall off the bike. 
‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗
The four-flight trudge up to the safehouse– more like safeapartment, actually– was a miserable one, especially with twenty pounds worth of gear on your back and a highly impatient super soldier on your ass telling you to “hurry the fuck up.”
“Again: ‘m not built like a fuckin’ freight train, here, Bucky,” you panted as your legs struggled in rounding the fourth and final landing. He didn’t bother to wait for you, instead turning wordlessly off the landing, heading down the hallway to the door with the keys jingling against his vibranium hand. You caught up to him, standing awkwardly off to the side as he fumbled with the sticky lock, and you couldn’t help but watch the way his hands moved. The way the vibranium prosthetic moved as fluidly as his flesh and bone, the way the plates glinted in the dimly lit hallway, the way his fingers seemed to have a mind of their own. 
Bucky swung the door open, pulling you out of your trance. He flicked on a light switch to reveal a small apartment complete with a cramped living room, couch, small T.V., and an open kitchen in the back. A hallway diverted off to the left, presumably to the bathroom and–
“It’s a one bedroom,” Bucky muttered, stepping into the apartment. You looked at him incredulously. 
“You– you’re kidding, right?” you asked, closing the door behind you and dropping your bag off to the side. 
“No. Why would I?” Bucky turned to you, cocking a brow with hands set on his hips, revealing his undone tac jacket and the tightest fucking dry-fit shirt underneath. It was practically a second skin, hugging against his abs you felt earlier. You stared slack-jawed at him like he didn’t just hear himself speak.
“Because there’s only one fucking bed?” 
“Yeah. And I’m taking it. You get couch duty,” he stated matter-of-factly. His crooked smirk prodded at your nerves.
You scoffed and mirrored his stance. “What? No! I did the work today, you sat around and just… watched.”
His face hardened. “I sat and just… watched?” he repeated, tone challenging you as he took a step forward. 
You swallowed. “You heard me.”
One second, you were ready to hurl another choice word at Bucky. The next, you were slammed against the back of the door. Hard. 
Bucky had rushed you, grabbing your arms with bruising force and forcing them up, pinning your wrists on either side of your head. You yelled in protest, failing to squirm out of the cage that was his body. 
“Look at me right fuckin’ now,” he demanded, lips curling into a snarl and bared teeth. His voice turned, a complete 180. Dominating, commanding, enraging. When you didn’t obey instantly, he slammed your wrists against the door again.
“Look at me!” 
“No! Fuck– Get off me!” 
With your feet still free, you started kicking him, eliciting what sounded like a growl that rumbled from deep within his chest. Bucky passed your wrist in his metal hand off to his flesh one, pinning both hands above your head while shoving a thick thigh between both of yours– right against your core. An uncontrollable yelp escaped from you as he pushed. Heat pooled in your lower stomach, and it took every bit of control to stop yourself from clenching your thighs together automatically. The fire Bucky ignited only grew, imaginary flames roaring in your stomach and racing up your limbs. His prosthetic hand snaked up your neck and squeezed your chin, squishing your cheeks and lips, forcing your eyes to him.
You felt lightheaded. Bucky– fuck, nobody– ever grabbed you like that; like you belonged to them. To him.
“You’re gonna listen to me, and listen good,” he shook your face, “I saved your fuckin’ life tonight, ‘member? When you were defenseless and as good as fuckin’ dead on that roof? You made me shoot that piece of shit point blank. You made me almost shoot you.” 
His voice shook and he looked away, biting his lip then coming back to you. “I fuckin’ saved your life when you should’ve saved your own. If it’d been any later– if I’d been a second later–” He steadied a breath, shaking his head and scoffing a laugh. He focused back on you with wildly electric blues. “I saved your life. Therefore, I get the goddamned bed tonight. Got it?”
You stared at him for a second longer before nodding gently. The energy building between you was enough to burn the entire building down if someone lit a cigarette. A smirk slowly bloomed across your lips. He released your chin, hand sinking down to rest against your collarbone. 
“Is that all, Sergeant?” 
His Adam's apple bobbed.
“What did you just call me?” he whispered, sliding a vibranium palm around the column of your neck, plated fingers resting on your pulse point. He twitched. Inches.
“You heard me.” 
The air, thick in the apartment, felt charged. 
“Needja t’say it again. Can’t hear too well,” he slurred, licking his lips. Eyelids fluttering, hands squeezing. Centimeters.
“Whatever you say,” you lilted. Millimeters. “Sergeant.”
Lightning struck. Everything ignited, setting fire to both of you as Bucky’s lips seared into yours. Hard, sloppy, desperate as tongue and teeth swapped secrets like old friends. He was unexplored territory, yet he felt so familiar. His prosthetic slowly relented the grip on your wrists, dropping to your shoulder, sliding down your chest where he greedily groped and slid over every last peak and dip of your body: tits screaming for release from your suit; hips jerking in short bursts at his every movement. He grabbed your ass and pulled you closer, forcing your thick thighs to spread wider as his own pushed further against your arousal.
“Been–” Bucky smacked your lips, kissing hungrily across your cheek and biting down your neck, “Shit– Been wanting this so– long, fuck–” He pressed into you, his cock harder a gun in his waistband. You couldn’t hold onto the intensely lust-filled moan that spilled from your throat much longer. Bucky grinned against your neck, lapping and sucking and marking your skin like he owned you. Like he could do whatever he wanted to you. 
And you let him.
“Gotta get this shit off you,” Bucky mumbled into your neck as he shed his own jacket, face not leaving your skin. Rough hands grabbed onto you and ripped away the buckles and buttons of the jacket that kept your body from him. A deep groan rumbled inside his chest as he threw the top half of your suit to the side, drinking in the beautiful sight of your body, hugged in all the right places by the cami that was riding up your stomach while your tits gasped for air, spilling out, fighting against your sports bra.
“Holy–fuck, holy shit.” 
Bucky Barnes was speechless. And you were the reason why. 
He stopped as your wrists came down from above your head and fell down your frame. 
“God, you’re fuckin’ beautiful.”
Your heart stopped.
“You’re telling me.”
Another charge surged and you threw yourself at Bucky, sending both of you stumbling through the living room. Hands grasped and groped. Fingers busied themselves with removing clothing, undoing pants to throw one way and stripping shirts to toss another. You were magnetized to him, carding through his cropped chocolate hair, hooking your arms behind his neck– which was still bare and practically begging you to mark it in every way you knew. Stumbling over an end table, knocking into the wall that led down the hallway, dragging one another to the bedroom only to pause when you whined at Bucky to shut the door. 
Both of you were near-naked, relishing in each other’s skin by the time you made it to the bed, falling on it with him on top of you in a heap. Bucky hiked you further up the bed, dropping you onto the several pillows that made it feel like Cloud 9. You looked up at him straddling your hips with legs that seemed to spread wider the further down he sat. Eyelids fluttered while your pupils adjusted to the dark bedroom. What lay before was a scene out of your wildest fantasy. 
Bucky sat back on his hips, hair spiking out in wild tufts, cock aching to break free from the confines of his briefs as he stared back at you hungrily. His tongue jutted out to wet his lips, dragging the bottom half back into his teeth while his lust-blown pupils trained directly on you. You truly hadn’t registered the god-like, sculpturesque muscles leading down his chest and over his rippling abs that finished in a very defined ‘V’ below the waistband of his briefs. The veins bulging in his arm and hand were enough to send you spiraling. Everything before you left you speechless. Wanting. Needing.
Bucky slid painstakingly slow hands over your hips, up your waist, your ribs, slipping curious fingers underneath the hem of your sports bra. He didn’t rip it off like you expected, however. 
He looked at you. Really looked at you. “You–” his Adam’s apple bobbed, “y’know this’ll change everything. Right?” 
You nodded, eager, confident. “Yeah. I– I know.”
“You wanna do this?” He tugged harder.
“Yes.” Another tug. Your tits begged for release. 
“And you… got protection, er–” he hesitated, cocking a brow.
“Pill. I–I’m on the pill,” you breathlessly assured him. You added with a shrug, “I assume you didn’t bring any…”
He scoffed a laugh. “You weren’t exactly on my list of things t’do.”
“Well I hope I’m a top priority, now.”
“Number fuckin’ one.”
The elastic tore as he ripped the fabric, finally releasing your breasts from their constraint. Bucky discarded your ruined bra and turned back to you. His hands gravitated automatically to your chest, kneading, squeezing; thumbs and index fingers on both sides felt around for your nipples and pinched the sensitive buds, eliciting a squeal from you and another rush of arousal flooded your core. 
Bucky hummed while locking his lips onto a pointed peak, mouthing and nipping and sucking. You mewled, running a hand up the back of his head and through his messy hair. His vibranium hand started downwards, sending your senses into overdrive as metal fingers teased the hem of your hipsters that met the crease in your thigh. He released your swollen nipple with a pop.
“Fuck you’re soaked, baby,” he moaned. Tugging your hipsters down your legs, he returned to leaning back on his hips. You’re breathless, panting, melting before him as he palms his thick erection. The girthy, leaking head poked over the waistband, aching to finally meet you. To feel you.
He stripped his briefs off, springing his cock free. You couldn’t tell if the uncontrollable moan that escaped from your lips was because of how mouth-watering he was or the thrilling worry that flooded your mind at the thought (and soon-to-be very real act) of fitting him– all of him– inside you. You glanced at him, catching the way his eyes darkened into something sinister, something hungry and uncontrollable. His jaw hardened as he pumped himself, leaking precum droplets onto your thighs. 
“Get on your fuckin’ stomach,” he commanded. You obeyed, willing to do anything in your power to quell the iron-hot ache that made your pussy throb with want. The second your palms hit the mattress he grabbed you, hands bruising your love handles and ass as he yanked you back to him, shoving your face down into the pillows. With your cheek pressing into the mattress, face squishing into your elbow, all of the oxygen was pulled from your lungs. A beat of silence filled the void between you before a loud SMACK followed by a stinging pain radiating from your ass. 
SMACK. “That was for the back talk.”
SMACK. “That was for scarin’ me t’night.”
SMACK. “And that was for makin’ me have to wait this long to fuck your stubborn ass.” 
Drool dripped from the corner of your mouth and onto the sheets as you chewed your lip, trying (and failing) to dull the harsh, hot pain. Hands gripping your hips, bruising and rough, he yanked you back to meet his front. His cock jammed in between your cheeks as he grinded on you, kneading your ass to mold around him. 
“You’re gonna take me,” he rasped, low and throaty. “All of me.”
You felt him line himself up with your entrance, his girthy head poking and prodding at your entrance. A beat. Hesitation from both of you before he finally snapped forward, plunging into you, filling you, stretching you wider than you could’ve imagined. Once inside, he paused, shifting inside you, cursing breathlessly at the perfect fit. You groaned and desperately shifted your hips in silent hope that Bucky would fucking move. The stretching, the fullness, everything gnawed at your insides that were begging for release. For pleasure. 
“F-fuck Bucky, please–!” He slowly, painfully, rolled his hips in small, dragged-out thrusts before pulling out of you with the most self-control you’d ever see from him and jamming right back into you. 
“Fuck! Again! Please, again!” 
He obeyed you; his hips gradually began to pick up speed, thrusting erratically into you. 
“Gimme your arm,” he gritted between hissed curses. Your brain was on a three-second delay between hearing him and when you started to twist; too slow for Bucky’s liking, he growled, bending– and, in turn, stuffing himself until his base scraped your ass– to grab your arm, pinning against your back with a stern hold. The pain, the pleasure, the all-of-it fanned the flames inside you, growing hotter and hotter and threatening to implode. 
“‘M so close, baby, so–” he gasped, “Fuck, where do I–?”
“Back,” you answered, muffled against the sheets. “My back, I– ah!” You clenched around him, locking him in place as the implosion erupted within you. White-hot flashes of intense pleasure shot through your veins like a lethal shock. You screamed. You trembled. You felt the most all-consuming release rock you to your core, all while Bucky drilled into you harder, faster, his own coil on the brink of snapping. His hips began to stutter into you while you rode your high, mewling when it was time to pull from you in a hurry, his fist furiously pumping the last few seconds. A pleasured cry came from his body as hot ropes shot onto you, painting your skin in warm bursts, cum pooling where your spine arced. He groaned. Fist slowing in pumps, he fell onto the covers next to you in a heap as you cautiously lowered your back.
For a minute it was just your labored breathing echoing one another. The smell of sex lingered in the air, the distant sounds of the streets below and within the quiet building were muffled by the walls of the bedroom. It felt like forever before the bed shifted. Bucky stood, fumbling around on the ground for his discarded briefs. Kneeling back onto the bed, you flinched at the suddenly soft touch of fabric as he cleaned you up, wiping your skin until satisfied. He tossed the boxers back onto the ground somewhere unseen, rolling over back to his place next to you. You couldn’t help the smile on your lips, biting it back as you flipped over to look at Bucky, who was already staring at you with a soft smile. 
“Thanks.”
He shrugged in response. “Looks like we both needed it.”
You nodded. “Does this mean ’m still sleeping on the fuckin’ couch?”
“Hm. No, I’ll let you off the hook,” he said, grabbing the covers and pulling them over you both.
“I think I like being off the hook better than being on it.”
“Mhmm, sure,” he hummed. The covers shrouded you as he placed a metal hand on your cheek, rubbing his thumb in soft circles as he pulled you in for another electrifying kiss.
1K notes · View notes
queerpumpkinnn · 9 months
Text
I Win
2.5k words
Summary: You’re practicing combat with Bucky, but he never intended to win- not in a fight, anyway.
Pairing: Bucky Barnes x reader
Warnings: Smutty smut smut, dom/sub dynamics (switch!Bucky x switch!reader), reader is more explicitly female this time (reader is afab, is referred to as ma'am and princess), lowkey brat taming (don't ask me which is the brat and which is the tamer because I don't know), Bucky's got the long hair because I said so, consent is implied but not explicitly given, relationship unspecified but it's assumed that they've hooked up before, hair pulling, finger sucking, unprotected piv sex (wrap it before you tap it), handjob, edging, scratching (Bucky receiving), Bucky and reader physically fight, blood, slight blood kink (reader licks Bucky's blood off his lip, don't do this irl it's so unsanitary), knife kink, mention of voyeurism, let me know if I missed anything!
While reading, I recommend you listen to enemies to lovers - a Spotify playlist by me!
~
"You can't be tired already."
He'd been saying that for an hour. Even when you entertained him in whatever form of combat he demanded next, he threw taunt after taunt at you. Broad shoulders hunched over in a fighting stance, flesh and metal fingers wiggling in anticipation, mouth corners stretched apart in ecstatic snark.
"C'mon kid, you've gotta give me something. We just gonna dance around for another hour?"
You could hear it in his voice that he didn't mean any of it. Bucky had sung your praises on plenty of occasions so you knew he was just egging you on for the sake of a good match. But he also had a knack for reading you uncomfortably well, and he'd commented more than once about how frustrated and stressed out you'd been. So you also knew he was doing this for your own good.
That didn't mean he wasn't driving you up a wall. Combat seemed to be both the problem and the solution in this scenario.
Scratch that. The problem was Bucky and his big mouth.
You heaved a sigh that was audibly frustrated, pouring water down your throat to keep your mouth from saying anything stupid. The weaponry rack right by your head wasn't helping much.
"So are you just-"
Whoosh!
Before even you could comprehend what was happening, you'd swung a knife with a blade the size of your hand in his direction, landing bullseye into a dummy behind him with a dull noise, sending the target flying.
But Bucky just wasn't quitting.
"Where was all that rage during the brawl, huh princess?" He held his hands up incredulously. "Turns out you're holding out on me, all this time I thought you were just weak."
In an instant, you had him pinned. Sat on his chest, legs weighing down either arm, and a knife - identical to the one you'd kabobbed a dummy with seconds earlier - pressed against his throat.
"Ah, there you are." Bucky grinned, eyes shining lasciviously.
"Say another damn word, Barnes, I'm begging you." You grit, pressing the blade in harder.
His voice never wavered, amusement only becoming increasingly more aggravating. "Begging, huh? I like the sound of that."
"Then let's hear it." With sharp and final movements you hoist yourself up and down, seating yourself directly on Bucky's lap.
You may have smirked a little too proudly when you watched the wind get knocked out of him and his body curl into itself. His arms, now freed, flew to your hips. They seemed not to know whether or not to pull you off of him or keep you there.
You didn't give him the chance to make that decision, taking a fistful of hair and yanking it forward so that your mouths met in a sloppy, heavy-breathed kiss. The groan that spilled from his mouth to yours only encouraged your fervor, dragging your hips against his oh so slowly.
The sound that rumbled in Bucky's throat was akin to thunder, his mouth falling open, shoulders tensing and relaxing under your fingers. You felt his Adam's apple knock against the knife followed by a sharp exhale through his nose.
"G'na be the death of me," Bucky breathed, head lolling back when you pressed an open kiss on his pulse point. "Fuck."
"Shut up." You huffed, nipping at his earlobe and letting out a moan, sending shivers down his spine at the sound. A quick hand made quick work of his pants, tugging them down just enough to pull out his leaking cock, twitching at your touch. His hips kicked into your fist at the feeling, but you held him down.
"Be still, or you get nothing," you said firmly, thumb grazing over the top with a feather-light touch. You tapped the collar of his shirt with the tip of the blade. "Off."
Bucky followed, eyes heavy and dark on you as he practically tore the shirt from his body. He was still smirking, but his confidence and snark was beginning to wither and replace itself with something else, something more intense, something needier.
"Open." You said. Bucky watched you for a moment, as if your intentions would be written in your eyes. Although you couldn't read his expression, his jaw dropped slowly, tongue following until it stopped at his lip. His head wasn't tilted up to look at you, he was watching you through his lashes.
Your fingers traced over Bucky's bottom lip, and over the tip of his tongue in the process- you swore his mouth opened wider at the contact. The pads of your index and middle slid against his tongue, and his mouth closed over the digits as soon as they were in past the knuckle.
Your stomach flipped over at the sight, at the feeling. Bucky's tongue laved over your fingers in earnest, quiet noises and huffs barely audible over the television static in your brain.
You had figured out by this point that he'd let you pin him, that he was letting you boss him around. His stare shot exhilaration through you, like he was ready to pounce at any minute, and God knows he was so tempted, but it was something else keeping him there. Whether it be that he was too amused or too hypnotized by your menace of movement and order, neither of you knew. Neither of you cared.
"Not so mouthy now, are you Barnes?" you seethed, tugging your fingers back to his cock, now bobbing heavily at his stomach. When he didn't answer, you glared at him. "Speak."
"No, ma'am."
You hummed, an evil satisfaction rippling through you. Absentmindedly you began toying with his dick, eyes trained on his tortured expression. The way he swallowed thickly when you squeezed his base, gasped when your thumb teased feather-light over his tip, whimpered when you traced the underside with one finger.
You felt him throbbing against your palm. Your movements never got any faster, just meaner. Teasing him without giving any real friction, letting the anticipation bring him towards the edge. His hair was beginning to stick to his neck, a thin layer of sweat forming on his forehead. Bucky's eyes were screwed shut, brows were knit together, and in a curious moment of tenderness you almost felt compelled to smooth it out with your thumb.
But when he opened his eyes, so full of need, you lost any lingering resolve for kindness. Your gaze fell back to the knife, now loosened against him as your attention had wandered. You turned it over a few times, watching the reflected glint of light flicker over his collarbone. Bucky let out a shuddering breath when you traced the tip of the blade down his chest, grazing his stomach, then up again.
It was when the blade moved up his throat that your brain short-circuited. The tip pressed ever so slightly against the underside of his chin, tilting his head up to look at you. Lust-blown eyes, hooded and hungry, stared into your soul.
You frowned when you saw Bucky's lip caught in his teeth. "Nuh uh, none of that." You held his jaw firmly in your hand, and his lip fell back into place, followed by a stream of delicious sounds that sent fire licking in your gut.
What you didn't expect, however, was the small line of red on his lower lip, and in a moment of instinct, you dipped your head down to swipe it away with your tongue. Bucky jerked up at the feeling.
His mistake.
Bucky nearly whined when you let go of him, his cock aching and impossibly hard. You sat back, licking your fingers tantalizingly.
"What the fuck?"
"I said don't move, Barnes. Guess you're weaker than I thought."
Bucky tensed his jaw, fingers curling and uncurling furiously. "Please."
You glanced up from your hand in faux boredom. "What was that?"
"You wanted to hear me beg," he grits, hands tugging you so that you were sat firm on his naked lap. "So I'm begging."
"I'm listening."
"Please. Please, princess, need you on my fuckin' cock."
"Go on." You couldn't help the rolling of your hips, which only made him clutch you harder.
"Please."
"That's it, Barnes, you're getting there." Heat swelled in between your legs at his breathless words.
"Please, princess, need you so bad."
"Bucky."
"Please."
"Fuck me."
Just as quickly as you had him pinned, he'd done the same to you. Knife yanked from your grasp and thrown somewhere across the room, Bucky pinned both of your hands down on either side of your head, licking and biting furiously at your neck while his hips rutted frantically over your core.
But that satiated him only for a moment. His hands pulled yours over your head, weighed down while his flesh hand yanked your shorts down to your knees, where you kicked them off.
"Fuckin' soaked, sweetheart. What's got you so worked up?"
You wanted to wipe the stupid grin off his stupid face- he'd probably be honored to let you- but you couldn't deny either that the answer he implied was entirely correct.
You felt his fingers take a handful of thigh, groping and caressing. His eyes flickered from his work to your face and back, relishing in watching your knee twitch and your breath hitch at every brush, every stroke of his thumb over the seam of your underwear.
"Barnes, I swear to God-"
"What? What are you gonna do?" Bucky leaned down, nose brushing yours and hair curtaining around his head. "You wanted me to fuck you. That's what I'm doing."
Any back-handed response you might have had died on your tongue when his hand jerked your underwear aside and cupped your bare cunt, making your back arch into him and mouth fall open in a moan.
Bucky was no stranger to thorough teasing, and on any other occasion he would have gladly employed it, but he wanted you now. And with your wetness webbing on his palm, he didn't need it. His middle finger pushed into you with little resistance, curling and massaging.
"Oh, she likes that." Bucky smirks with far too much satisfaction. "Sucking me right in, crying for me."
And then Bucky nailed it. That spongy spot deep inside of you that obliterated any sense of reason or shame, replacing it with ecstatic need.
"And there she is." Bucky purred, wiping a bead of sweat tickling your hairline. "You know, you put up a good fight, but when it comes down to it, you're a pliant little housecat. All she wants is a little attention and she'll do just about anything for it. Isn't that right?"
You didn't actually give him an answer, but with how enthusiastically you were crying out, you might as well have pledged your allegiance.
"All she wants is a good dicking down, huh? Get all that frustration outta ya, that's what we're gonna do. Fuck you right to sleep."
He'd given you plenty of cue, but the stretch and friction still had you gasping. You watched his patience dissipate the deeper inside of you he got. His hand freed yours, both coming up to grip your hips and pull you closer, until his pubic bone was pressed against your clit.
His hands were shaking from bliss, and when you started rolling your hips up into his he thought he might die. His movements were slow, but firm and deep and enough to have you seeing stars. He knew your body like the back of his hand, knowing exactly how to angle himself so that his cock dragged against you just right, so that his pubic bone soothed the ache in your clit.
"There you go, princess, y'like that? So strung out, so snappy, needed to get that fixed." Bucky's hand pressed against your lower stomach, a gruff noise ripped from him when he felt his cock push up into his palm- you let out a sound similar, the extra pressure sending you into bliss. “That’s a good fuckin’ girl.”
"God, Bucky, right there, right there," you gasped. "Don't stop, don't fucking stop or-"
"Or?" he practically laughed at you. Your lack of response made him actually do it. "Head's so empty, no fuckin' thoughts except how cockdrunk she is."
Although he might have spoken like he wasn't, Bucky was just as intoxicated by the feeling of you, and his movements showed it. His animalistic thrusts, sloppier by the minute, were unrelenting and passionate. His ragged breath swallowed by your lips, feeding into his ears the purest and filthiest visions of sin that he saw when he opened his eyes.
He could feel you dripping onto him, feel your cunt clenching around him. That and every touch of your skin against his and nothing else.
"Y'like that, princess? Can feel you squeezing me, you must be close."
He knew your telltale signs like they'd been branded on the back of his brain, trinkets of knowledge he'd long coveted and hoarded like a dragon with treasure ever since you'd given it to him. His only goal now was to put it to good use, and Lord was he.
Your hands came up to grip his hair, dragging him down into a bruising kiss. When he pulled away, you whimpered, but he only shook his head.
"Gotta hear you, doll, loud and clear. Atta girl, let me hear everything you're feeling."
"God, so good, Bucky, so close," you cried, nails dragging down his chest and leaving pink lines in their wake.
You knew Bucky was saying something, but the ringing in your ears and white blurring your vision overtook your sense as your orgasm washed over you, bathing you in ecstasy.
Bucky's hips pistoned into you manically until they stilled, rolling softly until he spilled into you with a guttural groan.
The both of you lay still for a moment, basking in the afterglow. Runner's high was nothing compared to the satisfaction you'd both pulled from each other.
Suddenly the intercom chimed, shattering the bubble of haze. "For the record, that is most certainly not what that room is for."
"Stark-" Bucky pulled out of you with as much haste as he could manage while both of you were sensitive, throwing you your pants. "What the fuck are you-"
"Don't worry, I can't see you. I can, however, tell you that if that floor is not cleaned, Christ alive I will send you into your next life."
You let out a laugh at Bucky's expression, a mix between indignance and mortification. "At least he didn't waltz in with a bag of popcorn."
"Such a blessing," Bucky retorted, pulling his shirt over his head. "He'd start making comments like a movie critic."
"Or start cheering like it was a wrestling match."
"Dear god, I hate you." Bucky shook his head, the mirth written on his face indicative that his words held no real venom.
"Not what it sounded like a minute ago."
"Oh yeah?" Bucky cocked a brow, pulling you closer by your hands. "What did it sound like a minute ago?"
"Mm, I can't seem to remember." You cocked your head. "C'mon, maybe I'll remember in the shower."
Bucky Barnes Masterlist
Marvel Masterlist
Main Masterlist
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scoonsalicious · 2 months
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Unwanted: Chapter 4, Unwelcome - Pt. 1*
Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Avenger!Fem!Reader
Summary: When your FWB relationship with your best friend Bucky Barnes turns into something more, you couldn’t be happier. That is, however, until a new Avenger sets her sights on your super soldier and he inadvertently breaks your heart. You take on a mission you might not be prepared for to put some distance between the two of you and open yourself up to past traumas. Too bad the only one who can help you heal is the one person you can no longer trust.
Warnings: (For this part only; see Story Masterlist for general Warnings) Language, Explicit Sexual Content - Minors: GTFO; I don’t serve your kind here - (oral (f receiving), unprotected PIV (only okay if one of you is a super solider who can't contract/spread, otherwise, wrap it before you tap it), bad jokes (should be a given at this point, really), dummies not understanding feelings.
Word Count: 2.6k
Previously On...: Bucky returned from his mission and your reunion got a little spicier than intended... not that either one of you is complaining! Deciding not to make it a one-time thing, you both agree to try a friends-with-benefits arrangement. What could possibly go wrong?
A/N: Yay! More smut! Aren't we all so lucky! <3 I magically managed to plow my way through writing Chapter 10 tonight, which means ya'll get Chapter 4, Part 1 a little earlier than I anticipated! I have to confess that I love the stupid banter between Bucky and Pocket. Their dumb playfulness is so #goals for me, lol. You've got a lot of fluff and such coming your way for a few chapters, meanwhile I'm at the point where I'm just writing all the angst and it is making me so sad. I subconsciously keep trying to fix it because I hate having them be at odds, but the story needs pain! And therefore I must make my babies suffer. Not right now, though. Right now is smut, smut, smut! Enjoy!
Banner By: The absolutely amazing @mrsbuckybarnes1917
Taglist: (Please let me know if you’d like to be added!) @jmeelee @cazellen @blackhawkfanatic @les-sel @marcswife21 @buckybarnessimpp @mrsbuckybarnes1917 @erelierraceala
You sat in your office, head bent over the latest budget requests from your lab staff. You tended to be pretty generous when it came to project funding, but this $15 million request for a proposed shrink ray had to be some sort of a joke. Did they want a lawsuit from Pym Technologies? A knock on your door drew your attention away from the submission in front of you.
"Come in," you called out, putting the shrink ray proposal in your rejection pile. Bucky entered your office, flashing you a seductive smile as he closed and locked the door behind him.
Leaning back in your desk chair, you let your eyes rove over his frame as he walked toward you. He'd obviously just come from the gym, his muscles glistening with a sheen of sweat and his t-shirt clinging to his sculpted chest. The sight of him made your heart race, and you couldn't help but feel a now familiar heat building between your legs. He looked absolutely gorgeous. "You're not my GrubHub order," you teased.
"Not your GrubHub," he said, coming around to sit on the edge of your desk, "but I bet I can fill you up just as good."
You both stared at each other for a beat before bursting into laughter. "Oh my God, Barnes," you groaned, standing up and wrapping your arms around his neck. "That was absolutely awful." You kissed him, relishing the feel of his laughter against your mouth. "I can't believe I willingly let you put your dick in me, jokes like that."
Bucky's laughter faded into a heated gaze as his hands traveled up your sides, sending shivers down your spine. "Well," he whispered huskily, his lips grazing against the shell of your ear, "I'm glad you let me, because all I can think about is doing it again."
"Then it's a very good thing you locked that door," you whispered back, trying to ignore the wetness his words sent straight to your panties.
His fingers traced the outline of your jaw, his feather-light touch igniting a trail of desire along your skin. The familiar weight of his presence grounded you, drawing you closer. Together, like this, it was as if you were the only two people in the world, as if no one else existed.
"I've been thinking about you all day," Bucky confessed, his voice laced with a mixture of longing and hunger. "Couldn't focus on anything else but getting my hands on you."
"I've been right here." You took a hand and palmed him through his sweats. He was already rock hard, ready for you.
"Tease," he moaned, slotting his lips over yours again.
Your breath hitched as he kissed you, a surge of electricity coursing through your veins. The heat between you intensified with each kiss, fueling the fire that burned deep within. The taste of him was addictive, and you wondered how you had spent over a year in his company without kissing him before now.
“Fuck,” he hissed, pulling back from you. “I don’t have a condom. I could go get one, come back…”
You shook your head, not wanting to delay another moment. You knew the serum made him immune to catching or passing on any STIs, and you were clean. “I’m on the pill, Bucky,” you said, bringing your lips to his again. “And I wanna feel you. So fucking bad.”
“Thank God for modern fucking medicine,” he grinned.
Bucky's hands roamed over your body, his touch leaving a trail of fire in its wake. He expertly unbuttoned your blouse without taking his mouth from yours, revealing the soft curve of your breasts. His lips trailed down your neck, nipping and sucking at the sensitive skin.
"You seem to have forgotten your bra, Pocket," he murmured before taking his mouth to your nipple, swirling his tongue around it and sucking gently. Your knees weakened at the sensation, and you gripped onto his shoulders for support.
"Mmm, Bucky," you moaned, arching your back as he switched his attention to your other breast, giving it the same lavish treatment. The wetness pooled between your thighs, leaving you aching for his touch.
He stepped back abruptly, his eyes dark with desire as he reached down to unbutton your skirt. "I've been dying to taste you," he murmured, his voice thick with need.
You eagerly stepped out of your skirt, revealing the black lace panties that barely covered your soaking slit. Bucky's gaze darkened further as he looked at you, hungrily taking in every inch of your exposed body.
"Fuck," he breathed, stepping closer to you "You wear these just for me?" You just smiled at him, biting your lower lip. You had worn them just for him, but he didn't need to know that. With one swift motion, he lifted you up and placed you on the edge of your desk. The cool wood felt delicious against your heated skin as Bucky hooked his fingers around the sides of your panties, pulling them down your legs and stuffing them into the pocket of his pants.
"Thief," you chastised, but he only smirked at you as he dropped to his knees in front of you, his warm breath fanning across your slick folds as he hooked your legs over his shoulders.
You grasped the edge of the desk, your heart pounding in anticipation as he leaned forward and dipped his tongue between your swollen lips. A moan escaped you at the first touch of his velvety tongue against your throbbing clit. "Holy shit, Buck," you groaned. "Just like that."
"I knew you'd be delicious," he moaned into you.
Bucky's skilled tongue worked its magic, flicking and swirling with an expertise that sent waves of pleasure radiating through your body. Your head fell back, exposing your neck as you surrendered yourself to the sensations he was evoking. Each lick and suck was like an electric shock to your core, building the tension coiling within you.
Your fingers tangled in his hair, urging him closer as he devoured you with an insatiable hunger. The intensity of his ministrations brought you to the edge faster than expected, the coil within you tightening with an urgency that demanded release. You whimpered, your moans growing louder with each pass of his tongue.
"Bucky," you panted, pulling on his hair to drag him up. "Bucky I need you. I need you right now." Your voice was desperate, your body craving the feel of his thickness inside you.
Bucky's eyes were filled with a predatory glint as he stood up, his lips glistening with the evidence of your arousal. He swiftly rid himself of his sweats, releasing his swollen, throbbing length that begged to be inside you. The air crackled with tension as he positioned himself between your thighs, his hands gripping your hips firmly.
"Tell me what you want, sweetheart," he growled, his voice rough with desire.
You locked eyes with him, the intensity of your connection sparking a fire within you. "I want you inside me," you gasped, your voice filled with a desperate need.
Without any further warning, Bucky plunged into you with a force that stole your breath. The sensation of being filled by him, stretched and taken to the brink of reason, sent shock waves coursing through every nerve ending in your body. You cried out in ecstasy, the sound mingling with his own groan of pleasure.
"Jesus Christ, Pocket," he moaned, "you're so fucking tight."
He set a punishing pace, driving into you with a raw need that matched your own. The sensation of him sliding in and out of you sent sparks of delight shooting through your veins. Your hands clawed at his back, urging him to move faster, harder.
Each stroke hit that sweet spot deep within you, igniting fireworks in your body. The desk creaked beneath the force of your movements, the sound echoing throughout the room.
"Fuck," Bucky grunted, his hips slapping against yours with a primal intensity, "turn around."
He pulled out of you and flipped you, bending you over the desk before thrusting back into you from behind. The new angle allowed him to hit you deeper than before, and you could feel the tip of him kiss your cervix.
The desk continued to shake as Bucky pounded into you, the raw power behind each thrust pushing you closer to the edge of release. Your breath came in ragged gasps, your moans filling the air as ecstasy rippled through your body.
Sweat dripped down both of your bodies, glistening in the dim light of the office. The urgency between you was palpable, a desperate hunger that consumed every inch of your being. You could feel the tension building within you, coiling tighter and tighter.
"I'm...I'm so close," you managed to pant out, your voice strained with need. "Don't stop, Bucky."
He groaned in response, his thrusts becoming more erratic, his hips slamming against yours with an almost brutal force. The sound of your bodies colliding filled the room, drowning out any other noise.
Bucky's gaze bore into yours as you turned to look at him, his eyes filled with a mixture of lust and adoration. His grip on your hips tightened even further, his fingers leaving imprints on your skin as he pistoned in and out of you. The sensations he stoked within you built to an unbearable peak, threatening to consume you both.
With one final powerful thrust, Bucky sent you hurtling over the edge, your orgasm crashing through you like a tidal wave. You cried out his name, your body convulsing as waves of bliss coursed through every fiber of your being. It was an explosion that left you breathless and trembling, your senses overwhelmed by the intensity of the moment.
Bucky followed suit, ropes of his spend spilling into you as he found his own release. He bent his body over yours, burying his face in the curve of your neck, his moans muffled against your skin as he rode out the aftershocks of his orgasm.
For a few moments, the only sound in the room was heavy breathing and the faint echo of your heartbeats pounding in your ears. Your bodies were entangled, sweaty and spent from the intense release that had just washed over you. Bucky's grip on your hips slowly loosened as he pulled out of you, his length slipping free with a wet sound.
ith a shaky sigh, you turned around and immediately collapsed back onto the desk, your legs trembling from the sheer euphoria that had consumed you moments ago. Bucky stood there, his chest heaving as he tried to catch his breath. His eyes were filled with a mix of satisfaction and tenderness as he looked down at you.
He leaned down, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead before moving to stand in front of you. His fingers gently brushed against your cheek, wiping away a stray tear that had escaped during your climax. You reached up, intertwining your fingers with his and bringing them to your lips for a gentle kiss.
"Are you okay?" he asked, concern lacing his voice. "I didn't hurt you, did I? I went a little harder than I meant to."
You shook your head, a small smile tugging at the corners of your lips. "No, Bucky. That was... incredible. You didn't hurt me, you made me feel amazing." You paused, looking up into his eyes, filled with genuine affection. "You always make me feel amazing."
His gaze softened, and he brushed his thumb against your cheekbone. You moved to hop down from your desk, but your knees gave out, refusing to hold you.
"Hey, I've got you," Bucky said with a laugh as he steadied you, supporting you as though you weighed nothing. He began slowly buttoning your shirt back up, then slid your skirt back up your thighs.
"I think you ruined my legs," you giggled as he planted a kiss on your navel before tucking your shirt back into your skirt.
"Sorry 'bout that," he said with a smirk as he straightened up.
You let out a shaky laugh. "Yeah, I'm sure you feel really bad about it," you grinned.
He leaned in close to your ear. "Not even a little bit," he whispered, as though it was a conspiratorial secret. God, just his proximity and the sound of his voice sent a shiver down your spine.
"Looking to go for Round Two already, doll?" he asked you as he took in your physical response to him with a smug smile.
"I don't think my desk can take another go at the moment, or my legs, for that matter." You tried standing up again and were pleased to find that, though your knees were still weak, you were able to hold yourself upright. You glanced over to see Bucky watching you with a shit-eating grin. "You look a little too proud of yourself, you know."
"Tell me it's not fully deserved." He grinned at you like a mother fucking cat who had just found a saucer of cream. You rolled your eyes as you began picking up the avalanche of papers that had fallen from your desk to the floor. Bucky came around and bent over to help set your office back to rights.
Once everything was back in its proper place, you stood back to admire your work. No one would know that you'd been thoroughly railed here just a few minutes before. You watched as Bucky picked up the framed photo you kept of the two of you on your desk.
It was from your trip to the New York Botanical Gardens last winter. Bucky had confessed to you that, due to spending so much time on ice while under Hydra's control, he'd developed an intense hatred-- almost fear-- of cold weather. So, when a particularly brutal cold snap had him feeling exceptionally out of sorts, you'd taken him up to the Bronx to visit the Enid A. Haupt Conservatory, where you spent the day meandering through the paths of the hothouse, surrounded by humidity and tropical plants as though you were in the middle of the rainforest. In the photo, Bucky stood next to you with his arms wrapped around your shoulders, your hands hanging off of his forearm as he leaned into you and kissed your temple. Your face was scrunched up into a ridiculous smile.
"That was a great day," Bucky said, tracing the photo with a flesh finger. "I don't think I ever told you how much it meant to me, means to me, that you did that for me." His voice had dropped to something deeper, softer.
You felt something in your heart flutter at his words, the sensation new and a little frightening. The sensation made you nervous in a way you couldn't identify. "Buck," you said, swallowing thickly, "there's not much I wouldn't do for you. I hope you know that."
His crystal blue eyes bore into you as he looked at you, almost as though he was waiting for you to say something more. When you didn't, he let out a sigh and placed the photo back on your desk.
Looking back up at you, the intensity was gone from his gaze. "You hungry? I figure we must have burned enough calories to justify a big lunch." His cocky grin was back in place.
"Yeah, that sounds perfect," you said, linking your arm in his and patently ignoring the way the contact sent a swell of affection through your heart. "Let me pop into the bathroom to clean up, and then we're good to go."
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holylulusworld · 7 months
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Two bikes (1) - Angsttober 8
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Summary: You’re back in your hometown and meet two men from your past.
Pairing: former Jax Teller x fem!Reader (pre-story), Biker!Bucky Barnes x fem!reader
Warnings: angst, language, kinda cheating, implied/mentions of past cheating
Trope: Angst
A/N: I wanted Jax and Biker!Bucky in one fic. So suffer with me...
Kinktober vs Flufftober 2023
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Back in town. Back to square one. Restart. Doing it all over.
You huff when you get out of your car. It doesn’t fit right in, just like you. It’s too expensive and conspicuous, for a small town like Charming. And you’re not the girl leaving this town with only a few bucks in your pocket but so many dreams.
It can’t be helped. You decided to come back here to find the inspiration for your next book. Change is what you want.
New place. New book. New you.
“Y/N?”
Crap. You didn’t think anyone would recognize you so soon. But here you are, finding yourself in the embrace of the man you ran away from so many years ago. “Hi, Jax.”
Fuck, he smells the same, and it still feels good being in his arms.
“I can’t believe it’s really you. I heard rumors about a VIP coming to our town.” He releases you and takes a step back to drink you in. “Look at you. All fancy and grown. You look…” Jax can’t find the words. “It’s good to see you, sweetheart.”
“I didn’t expect a reception committee,” you chuckle. Jax smiles as you take your time to drink him in. He wears torn jeans, a white tee, and a leather jacket. You can see that he’s second-in-command now, and sigh. When you left town, you had hoped Jax would turn his back on the club and do something more…legal. “I see you’re still with them.”
“It’s my family,” he hastily replies, but his tone lacks enthusiasm. “We are having a get-together tonight. A barbecue with family and friends. Why don’t you come too?”
“Jax,” you exhale sharply. “I haven’t seen most of them in years. I don’t think they want the girl they met once or twice years ago at their party.”
“Sweetheart, you’re still part of the family,” he shrugs. “Come on. Gemma will freak out seeing you all grown and Opi will love seeing you.”
“That big dummy is still around? I thought he’d leave you,” you snicker. “You were glued together at your hips if I recall right.”
“Well, he’s my best friend,” Jax grabs your hand. “Please come and have a little fun. For the old times.”
“I-“ you lick your lips. You knew that you’d eventually run into Jax and the others. If you want to start anew – why not see your old friends and Jax again? “Okay.”
“You can come around at any time, Y/N,” he grins. “If you want to, I’ll pick you up.”
“Nah,” you shake your head. This will go too far. You’re not ready to be back on a bike with Jax. “I’ll drive. I don’t trust you with speed and such.”
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The reunion went surprisingly smoothly. Gemma hugged you, and wouldn’t stop asking questions. Opi offered a beer and a bear hug and the others greeted you like an old friend.
It almost felt like you never left. Almost.
You’re watching the others talk and having fun while Jax tries to talk you into going for a ride in the morning.
He has you caged against the wall, one hand next to your head, and his lips dangerously close to yours. Jax whispers your name and says all the right things.
Damn him. He easily had you wrapped around his finger in no time. Forgotten are the heartbreak and all the tears you shed for him.
“Y/N, tell you feel the same. Say that you feel there’s still this spark between us,” he leans impossibly closer to brush his lips over yours. “Sweetheart.”
“Jax.” You breathe out. “I-“ You open your mouth when he claims your lips. And you wrap your arms around him to hold him close.
“I knew it,” he nips at your lips, eagerly tasting you. “The moment I saw you standing next to your car, looking a little lost, I knew you’d come back to me.”
“Jax, it’s not that easy,” you grip his jacket tightly, not wanting him to pull away. “Maybe we can…”
“Jax, have a look at this. We need your help,” Tig ruins the intimate moment. He drags Jax away, unaware that you are about to do something stupid.
“Later,” you mouth as Jax glances at you. He nods, giving you a cracked smile before following Tig.
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You’re pacing back and forth. Jax went to his room some time ago and you try to decide if you want to let your heart win tonight.
"Maybe this is the chance you've been waiting."
You take a deep breath and decide to go to his room and take the chance on him. Maybe this time, it won’t end in heartbreak.
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You want to knock and feel like a fool. This used to be so easy when you were just horny and silly teens. Now you are a woman, and he’s a man. The man you still desire.
Without thinking twice, you open the door, pushing it open. You smile and want to tell Jax that you are ready to go on a ride with him tomorrow.
“What the fuck!” Your heart drops, and you feel like someone sent you back in time only for you to walk in on Jax and some other girl.
“Sweetheart…Y/N…” Jax gasps as you catch him red-handed with one of the girls from the strip club Tig wouldn’t stop talking about.
“Sorry, I didn’t want to stop you from ruining whatever that was not ten minutes ago,” you laugh at your stupidness.
You turn to leave and slam the door shut behind you. It’s not the first time in your life that someone made a fool out of you. But tonight, you did this to yourself.
“Babe, please wait,” Jax stumbles out of the room. He’s only in his boxers and tries to explain why he went from kissing you to fucking that girl. “I can explain…”
“You want to explain this?” you angrily point at the door. “Save it, Jax. You didn’t change one bit. One moment you sweet-talk to me and kiss me and the next you fuck her." You choke on your tears. “You made me feel like we got a second chance.”
Shaking your head, you try to hold back more tears. “It’s my fault. It was foolish of me to believe that for once I wasn't second best to you. How could I? If I’m so unimportant to you that you fuck her minutes after you kissed me.”
“Babe, we aren’t together, and,” he runs his fingers through his messed-up hair, “you got me so hard. I didn’t want to fuck things up and pounce on you. I just needed to release steam.”
“See, that’s the problem, Jackson Teller,” you silently sniffle. “You don’t even feel guilty for hurting me all over again. Ten minutes, Jax. You had to wait for ten minutes to get your dick wet. I’m glad it took me those ten minutes because you’ll never be faithful.”
“Please, let’s talk. We can go inside and…” He can only watch you step away from him. “Sweetheart.”
“I don’t need this and,” you push against his chest to slam him into the door, “I don’t have to listen to your lies. You’re right. We’re not together. We are nothing to each other. Only a faded memory. Let’s keep it that way.”
“Wait…I…”
“You better go back inside and finish what you started with her. At least give the poor girl an orgasm after all the trouble…”
You storm off, and shoulder past bikers. Gemma wants to stop you, but you’re too angry and hurt to even listen to her. Instead, you run toward your car and speed off.
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“You’ve got to be shitting me,” you slam your hands on the steering wheel. It feels like the world decided to fuck you over once again. “No. You can’t just die out here in the middle of nowhere.”
It’s all too much. Being back in your hometown. Meeting your high school sweetheart only for him to break your heart again.
You sit in silence for a moment and think about all the decisions leading you back to him. Bad choices, you guess.
You hide your face in the palm of your hands. How could your fresh start end like this?
You jump when someone knocks at your window. Great. Now you drew attention toward you and your car.
“Hey, why are you lurking around in front of our club?” The man asks. “Are you with the cops? We do nothing illegal here.”
Your heart races when the man knocks at your window again. If fate wants to fuck you over some more, so be it. You roll down the window to look at the man.
“Sorry. Uh-my car just…” you sniffle. “The engine died, and I can’t get it back to life. I wasn’t lurking, just thinking about what to do now.”
He looks inside your car, but his features soften when he looks at your teary eyes.
“Hi. I didn’t want to scare you, doll. Do you want me to have a look at the engine? I know a thing or two about cars.”
“James? James Barnes,” You blink a few times to check if you saw right. “Is that you?”
“You know me?” He asks, looking a little confused.
“It’s me, Y/N Y/L/N. We went to the same high school. You probably don’t remember me. I was a little shy, and you were two years ahead of me at school.”
“Wait…” He wrinkles his forehead. “You were the cute girl Jax Teller was dating. I always wondered how he got so lucky.”
You clear your throat, not wanting to talk about Jax, and what he did to you. Back then and today. “He didn’t feel lucky, I guess.”
“What did he do, doll?”
“I don’t feel like talking tonight. Let’s say he liked to stray. Back then, and recently,” you give him a cracked smile. “He’s the reason I drove out of town only to end up here.”
“A shame. He should’ve valued you more, doll,” he flashes you a stunning smile. “If you open the hood for me, I’ll have a look at the engine.”
“That’s very kind of you, James.”
“Call me Bucky doll,” he grins when you open the hood. “A pretty lady like you can always call me Bucky…”
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buckysimp101 · 1 year
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Everything the Light Touches (18+) - Chapter Sixteen
Mafia!Bucky x F!Reader
chapter warnings: tension (of the semi-sexual variety), lil bit of thigh-riding (flashback), guns (nobody is hurt, it’s just practice, but thought i’d let you know just in case. also, i have no clue what kind of gun they’re using. i just know it’s a pistol)
a/n: hope you’re buckled in bestie boo, this chapter is where we’re gonna start seeing some of those *tensions* rise ;) 
Series Masterlist 
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Your heart was pounding in your ears as you took in what Bucky was saying to you. He’d explained briefly the issue that had him running out of the apartment at a ridiculous hour but now he was speaking in hushed tones to Natasha at the door. You sat down on the couch, your ass hitting the cushions hard, as you realized what this meant. It meant that your parents had decided to go to war. To help Pierce. To betray you. A part of you knew you shouldn’t be so surprised to hear the lengths they’d go to for more power, but the thought that they would risk others lives made your stomach curdle. You were withdrawn so deep in your head you didn’t hear the door open and close behind Natasha as she left until you saw Bucky kneel in front of you. You chanced a look at him, almost regretting it as you saw the pain and the anger swimming in his oceanic eyes. Bucky was hurting. 
“Was anybody hurt?” You asked quietly, watching Bucky’s face for a tell of some sort to see if he was lying. His head shook vehemently denouncing the question which managed to lighten your stomach but only a little. 
“I meant what I said, Y/N. I will keep you safe. And if that means giving my life in the process then that’s what I’ll do.” His words were softly spoken, almost whispered as if he was unsure if you should hear them, and while he probably thought that what he was saying would bring about some sort of comfort it did the opposite.
Your whole body shivered at the thought of James Barnes laying down his life for you. You never wanted that. Never in a million years. And while you understood that Bucky is partially the reason you were in this mess now, you weren’t sure how you’d be able to make it if he gave up his life to protect you. But you didn’t have time to express those thoughts. Those feelings of intense doubt, guilt and fear. Because Bucky was reaching out to your hand pulling you up with him as he stood in front of you. Your breathing was labored, borderline panting if you were being honest, uncertainty filling your veins as you stood in front of the man you once loved and awaited his next move.
You were so sure that he was just going to tell you to go to bed and not worry about what was to come, about what had happened. So needless to say, you were pleasantly surprised when Bucky Barnes wrapped his arms around you and pulled you in for a hug. Your breathing caught in your chest as his smell assaulted your senses, the scent doing its best to drag you back into a time long past where you knew without a doubt that this man was your forever. You only hesitated slightly before wrapping your arms around his waist in response and leaning your head against his chest. The two of you stood there for what felt like hours but must have only been a few minutes. You managed to look up to find Bucky staring at you, a hesitant look in his eyes before he began to lean down to you.
Your heart stammered and your brain was on fire. IS HE GOING TO KISS US AGAIN!?!? WHAT IS GOING ON!! THERE IS NOBODY HERE TO PROVE IT TO. DANGER! DANGER! ALERT! ALERT! 
But he didn’t do that. Instead he touched his forehead to yours and closed his eyes, seeming to bask quietly in your embrace before softly speaking, “sweetheart, you will never know how sorry I am. For everything. For letting you go. For practically casting you aside. For forcing you into this life. I truly hope you will find it in your heart to forgive me one day though I doubt I will ever deserve your forgiveness. If it takes fighting the rest of my life for you to understand how truly sorry I am, I’ll do it.”
You could feel the movement of his lips at the top of your head as he pressed a kiss to your forehead before giving you one last squeeze and pulling away. You weren’t sure what to say, your words had been robbed from you in those last  moments and you merely stared up at him, your lips parting slightly in awe and slightly in fear of the future. He sighed heavily after looking at you, offered a squeeze to your waist and began leading you to your bedroom. Your heart was racing again, uncertainty filling you once again as he opened the door to your room and motioned for you to go inside. Your steps were hesitant but as you turned around you noticed he was still at your door, on the other side at that. Standing in his hallway Bucky leaned against the doorjamb with his hands tucked in his pockets before speaking again, “get some rest, you need it. We’ll talk more in the morning.”
And then he closed the door.
Bucky was gone.
You were alone. Alone with your thoughts. With your feelings. And with a potion of doubt and fear swirling in your stomach.
So you did the only logical thing.
You slept.
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The next morning was busy in the apartment. Steve, Sam and Natasha had all shown up throughout the day to talk with Bucky as they planned their countermoves. You did your best to ignore them and focus on the last minute wedding planning, not wanting to know what they planned to do in retaliation. You finalized flowers over FaceTime, you clarified the time and place for the caterers, and you even managed to sneak in a call to Wanda when you needed a little help decompressing. You didn’t tell her everything. She didn’t need to be made aware of what had happened the night before and she certainly didn’t need to know the little feeling that kept popping up in your stomach whenever your eyes met Bucky’s. Hell, you didn’t even want to admit that a part of you was still attracted to him.
How could anyone not be attracted to James Barnes? When you were younger you stated it was scientifically impossible for someone to be unattracted to him. Maybe past you was right.
You quickly shook that thought out of your head as you heard the fading footsteps of the team walk out the front door. Most of the day had slipped away pretty quickly without you realizing and now Bucky was standing in front of you with his hand reached out, his eyebrow quirked at your unmoving body, signifying that he’d probably been standing there longer than you realized. You felt your cheeks warm as you took his hand and asked, “what’s up? Is everything okay?”
Bucky nodded curtly and responded, “I’m going to take you somewhere. With the threat that Pierce and his men pose we need to make sure you’re prepared. We’re not going to leave the building but there is a place for us to practice, if you’re willing?” He said the last part questioningly, as if to give you an out if you really didn’t want to do this. But you’d had enough of the damsel in distress act that you felt like you were giving off. If anyone was going to keep you safe it was going to be yourself. Tony Stark had taught you that. You nodded in agreement and Bucky took you to the back elevator, scanned a card and pressed a combination of floor numbers that took you down, down, down. 
When the elevator doors opened you noticed you were in a training room of sorts. It had been divided into multiple rooms for different purposes but that was ultimately what this space was. Bucky must have noticed the question in your eyes because he spoke as he led you out. “When my father and I bought this building we had this installed. It’s where we train new recruits, can’t exactly do that at a normal gun range or gym, and it’s nice to have a private space to…practice when you’re not exactly the most loved person in all of Manhattan.” He spoke sheepishly as he averted his gaze and rubbed his neck with his hand. When he led you into a room where the floor was covered in padded mats you noticed him taking his shoes off and walking toward the center of the floor before turning to face you as he crooked his fingers for you to go to him. You followed suit, taking off your shoes and walking towards him as you tied your hair up to get it out of your face.
There was a breath of silence before Bucky spoke again. “So, we’re here today to see what you’ve got. What we can improve on. What we can add to your arsenal of self-defense. I remember many years ago working with you on some things and thought, maybe you remembered some of it.” His ears were turning red and you could tell a part of him was a little embarrassed at the memory he was recalling. You smirked at that. You knew what memory he was recalling. You remembered it very well.
Ten Years Ago
“Okay sweetheart, now if someone grabs you like this,” he said wrapping his hands around your waist and pulling you tight against him, practically pulling you into the slow growing erection in his gym shorts, “what do you do?” His words tickled your throat as you squirmed in his arms, knowing the reaction you’d get from him. Bucky groaned in your ear causing you to giggle in return as he pulled you in tighter. “Stop that, you know what it does to me,” he growled causing you to laugh out loud this time.
“Jamie I don’t know what you’re talking about,” you breathed as you leaned your head to look at him, fluttering your lashes flirtatiously, pulling another low growl from his throat as he leaned down to kiss you hard. You reciprocated the kiss as he spun you to face him, slotting his leg into the part between yours that you had unconsciously given him access to. You rolled your body precariously against his legs drawing a moan from both your lips as he squeezed your hips a little tighter. “James Buchanan Barnes this is highly inappropriate, what would society say?” You teased against his lips before a breathy gasp ripped from your lungs as he used his hands to roll your body onto his thigh once more, so closed to where you wanted, no, needed him. You were both a panting mess as you parted, twin smirks on both your lips before you spoke again, “besides, in what world am I going to be attacked by someone grabbing my waist? Aren’t they more likely to like…strangle me or pin my arms or something? This seems like very inefficient training, sir.”
His lips twisted in a larger grin as he pulled you close and leaned down to press a kiss to your lips before growling, “oh I’ll pin your arms, sweetheart.”
You squealed and managed to wiggle your way out of his grasp as you took off across the training room in the basement of the Barnes house to evade your ‘captor.’ You could hear Bucky’s footsteps catching up with you as you attempted to bob and weave but you weren’t fast enough. You never were. He wrapped his arms around your waist and spun you into his arms before effectively pinning your arms to your side and smacking a hard and wet kiss on your lips.
“I love you, Jamie,” you panted into his kiss as he swallowed the words.
“I love you more, my beautiful girl. Always and forever.”
Bucky cleared his throat as his whole face was approximately the same color as a tomato now, he most likely had drifted off into the same memory as you. But before either of you could say anything that would make things more awkward than they were he cleared his throat once more and took a step towards you. Your breath caught before he spoke again, “so. Tell me what you remember or what you’ve learned in self-defense. And we’ll see where to go next. Okay?”
You nodded your head and wracked your brain thinking of all the times that Tony had sent you and Wanda to self-defense classes, or provided them for you himself at the mansion with Pepper. One thing about Tony Stark? He was always prepared. And he wanted to make sure you were as well. A part of you wondered if Bucky was expecting you to use the moves he’d taught you once upon a time, because believe it or not that training session ten years ago had been a little valuable. But you decided to show him something new. You felt the beginnings of a smirk grow on your face as you motioned for Bucky to come towards you.
“Here, stand behind me and wrap your arms around mine. You want to try to capture me, your goal is to immobilize me, okay?”
You noticed something cross his eyes before his own devious smirk grew but he nodded anyways and walked around you slowly, almost menacingly and wrapping his arms around yours holding you in place. He scent almost consumed you yet again but you shook your head and re-focused. You knew what you were going to do. But you were pretty sure Bucky didn’t.
“Okay, so to get out of a hold like this. All I’m going to do…is sing.”
“Wha-“
He didn’t have time to finish his question when you began to move, “solar plexus!” You jabbed him in the gut with your elbow, a surprised grunt coming out of him before you continued, “instep!” You stomped on his foot, causing him to let go of you completely in surprise. You noticed the threads of recognition beginning to form in his surprised eyes but you continued, “nose!” You reached up to try and punch his nose but he was able to calculate the next step and caught your wrist instead, but not before you tried to lift your knee to his groin for the last and final step, causing him to twist away from the line of fire and dropping your hand in the process. You took a step back, grinning from ear to ear as you watched him try to shake off the pain from the solar plexus jab and the instep stomp. Your breathing was a little heavier with adrenaline, his from pain, and that’s when he spoke, albeit a little breathy.
“Miss Congeniality? Really?” He teased but his tone was full of adoration. You merely grinned and shrugged in response.
“Sandy Bullock taught me everything I know.”
A hush fell over the training room, silence engulfing the two of you as you worked to breathe normally again. And then it was full of a deep belly laugh. One that warmed you from the inside out. One that you swore could make the sunshine on the darkest most dreary day. Bucky Barnes’ laugh was like the universal medicine to every ailment. And damn if a part of you didn’t light up at hearing it again.
It was also addictive. And contagious. Because next thing you know the two of you were doubled over in a laughter that was close to becoming hyperventilation. Tears were falling from your eyes as you attempted to recover from the impromptu laugh fest. You both managed to catch your breath but avoided eye contact. You had a history of not being able to take each other seriously after laughing that hard. 
“Okay, what next?” You spoke up first, hoping to get off the mat and maybe even put a little distance in between you and Bucky. He cleared his throat and shifted his weight a little as if he were uneasy about the next step.
“Well, it seems like you’ve had no shortage of hand to hand self-defense lessons in the last decade. But now it’s time to see how you can handle a gun.”
Your body shivered at what he was implying. Without so many words, he’d told you that there could come a time in the not-so-distant future that you’d need to shoot a gun to protect yourself. You merely nodded your head in response and headed off the mat to put your shoes back on and walk towards the gun range you’d seen upon entering the space. There were two targets set up already, awaiting your practice. You focused on your breathing. While you weren’t afraid of using a gun, it had been a very long time, but you weren’t about to tell Bucky that. In fact, a part of you was interested to see how this would go. Interested to see if he knew anything about your time in California other than working for Tony. 
That right there should’ve been a tip. You’d practically been adopted by Tony Stark, his weapons supplier, years ago. While you didn’t know that Tony was the Barnes supplier then you did know how to fire a gun. That was another case of Tony making sure you knew how to defend yourself no matter what. 
Bucky followed you into the range, handing protective ear and eyewear to you as he went to grab the pistol and bullets you’d be using. You were so focused on your breathing that you didn’t feel his presence as he walked up behind you. Your breathing stuttered as you felt Bucky step into your space before reaching around to position the pistol in front of you.
“This is what we’ll be using today. I’ll tell you all the places in the apartment you can find them in case you ever need it. And I always carry one on my person and have one in the car. Nod if you understand.”
You nodded.
He whispered, “good girl.”
You gulped.
He continued. 
“This is how you load it,” he showed you by taking your hand slowly and putting it around his, “make sure the safety is on. Do not turn the safety off until you’re ready.” He spoke right next to your ear and his words were making goosebumps form along your neck and spine. You nodded again. He continued after loading the gun for you. He took one hand off the gun and maneuvered yours so you were holding it, with his clasping around yours to guide you. He continued going slow to teach you the proper way to stand, to hold and when you were ready, he put the protective gear on you and showed you how to pull the trigger. The first time he told you to shoot he stood pressed against your back, taking most of the shock of the recoil with his body practically wrapped around yours.
Your senses were heightened to a level they’d never been before. You could hear every breath he took, feel every swallow, sense every time he ran his tongue over his lips, his nervous habit. After a couple rounds you felt him step back, giving you the chance to do it on your own. You flipped the safety back on before turning slowly to meet his gaze. Bucky was staring at you with what you could only describe as burning hunger blazing in his eyes. You watched him gulp down a deep breath as you made eye contact with him while reloading the gun, not even needing to look at it. You knew what you were doing. And it had nothing to do with what Bucky Barnes had taught you. You walked to the neighboring bay, the whole while maintaining eye contact with Bucky as he licked his lips, the slip of his tongue looked somewhat enticing. NOPE. NO IT DOESN’T. NUH UH GIRLIE. WE ARE NOT DOING THIS TODAY. NO MAAM.
You turned slowly, trying to shake off the burn of his gaze before looking down your new target, getting in position, and unloading the entire gun into the target without hesitation. You admired your work from afar before turning slowly to meet his gaze. You were thrilled with the disbelief in his eyes. His mouth agape and his eyes wide, you turned the safety back on, handed him the gun and walked around to fetch the target sheet. There were a number in the ring just around the bullseye, or what was left of the bullseye. You’d hit it so accurately it didn’t exist anymore. It was completely obliterated You handed the paper to Bucky before taking off your gear and beginning to walk towards the elevator without him.
“Thanks for the lessons, Jamie,” you smirked as you pressed the button for the floor to his penthouse, leaving a shocked Bucky in the gun range with his jaw touching the floor.
taglist:
@youlightmeupfinn​
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@not-another-fangirl​
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@thebunkerismyhome​
272 notes · View notes
granatkoroleva · 5 months
Text
𝐁𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐝 𝐁𝐲 𝐃𝐞𝐬𝐢𝐫𝐞
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This is a collaboration for @buckybarnesevents Shrinkyclinks 2023 Double Bang! The artist created a beautiful piece that inspired this fic. Their art is truly breathtaking and brought the story to life. Thank you for the inspiration! 
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Artist: @murkycrush
Author: Smutconnoisseur
Beta: @rookthorne
Character/Ship: Grad Student!Bucky Barnes x Incubus!Steve Rogers
Rating: Explicit
Word Count: 4.8k
Summary: “What the fuck,” Bucky muttered, watching the living, breathing creature that had appeared from seemingly nothing, and then back to the article on his computer, its title screaming at him in big, bold gothic font: "Summoning a Demon For Dummies 101: What to Do When Things Go Wrong (Or Right)."
Tags: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Supernatural Elements, Grad Student Bucky Barnes, Incubus Steve Rogers, Shrinkyclinks | Winter Soldier Bucky Barnes/Non-Serum Steve Rogers, Explicit Content, Master/Pet, Seduction, Demon Summoning, Wing Kink, Tail Sex, Bottom Bucky Barnes, Anal Sex, Oral Sex, Tail Felatio, Lust at First Sight, Horn Stimulation, Biting, Blood Play, Begging, Tenderness
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Masterlist | Ao3
61 notes · View notes
veebarnes13 · 11 hours
Text
"I love you more"
Context: Bucky and you got married two years ago, but it didn't stop him from starting "I love you more" contests.
TW: none
Era: TFATWS
(English isn't my native language, feel free to correct me!)
Enjoy! :)
☆☆★☆☆
The alarm went off violently that morning. Bucky groaned and rolled to his side, almost crushing you under his weight. He slammed his fist on the alarm clock, careful not to break it though. He let himself fall on his back, his flesh arm circling your waist from behind. He buried his face in your hair and took in your scent, a smile tickling his mouth.
"Morning." he mumbled.
"Morning, handsome." you replied in a sleepy whisper.
He kissed your shoulder and nuzzled his face in the crook of your neck, his hand roaming up and down your belly.
"Did you sleep well?" he asked, worried you would be sore after he made love to you last night.
"Couldn't have slept better." you answered.
He cuddled you against his chest for five more minutes, not wanting to get up just yet. He had a meeting later with Sam and Sharon, to which he wasn't looking forward. They always got Carter and him arguing, Sam trying to soothe them and ending up arguing as well, and made him upset for the whole day.
He finally got up and forced you to do the same, holding you by the waist. You both took a morning shower to start what he had called "the waking up process of lady Barnes". He teased you with how different he was from you on this point. Where he could get ready for a meeting or mission in twenty minutes, it took you an hour and a half just to get up, shower, get dressed and eat.
While you were picking your clothes for the day, he prepared breakfast. You hugged him around the waist and kissed his bare back.
"It's dangerous to cook shirtless. You could burn yourself." you rebuke him with a gentle slap on the shoulder.
"Don't worry about the cook, kiss him instead." he replied.
It was the sentence he used each time you complained on his methods. You rolled your eyes, but kissed him anyway.
"I don't want you to hurt yourself, dummy, because I love you." you said, a finger on his chest.
"I love you more, doll." he retorts.
You snort, your version of a sarcastic laugh.
"Don't start this war. I love you more." you counter.
"Nonsense. I love you more." he added.
"Impossible, because I love you more." you shook your head.
"Shut up, I love you more." he replied.
"Make me." you chuckled.
He raised an eyebrow, smirking, and towered over you. He leaned forward, but instead of kissing you like you expected, he put a piece of the bacon he's cooking in your mouth.
"Tell me how it is." he laughs.
You elbowed him. He shifted away, his eyes twinkling with amusement.
After breakfast, he had to leave for the meeting. You kissed him goodbye, and as he was closing the door, you yelled "I love you more!". He opened the door and said "No, I love you more." then slammed it, preventing you from replying.
You smiled, knowing he thought he won, but he didn't.
At lunch, when he opened his meal, he laughed to himself, making Sam jump. On his sandwich was a piece of paper with the words "I love you more" scribbled in your handwriting.
"Really?" he texted you.
"Can't argue with facts." you texted back.
He smiled and shook his head.
As soon as he got back home, he took advantage of the fact that you weren't back yet.
Your keys jingled and he was standing before the door, a wide smile on his face. You frowned, suspecting something, and put your coat down on the couch. He hugged you tight and kissed you, welcoming you back home, telling you how much he loved you. You said you loved him more, but he didn't argue; he simply smiled.
Weird.
You cooked dinner since he made breakfast. When the plates were on the table, he poured you a glass of water. You noticed a black stain on it and tried to wipe it off with your thumb, but it didn't go away. You licked your finger and tried again, without any success.
"Gross." sneered Bucky.
"Shut up." you laughed back.
You inspected the glass and realized the stain formed an "I". Knowing what was coming next, you took the water jug and looked at the side that was towards Bucky. He had written on it "love you more."
You glanced at him. He giggled between two bites.
To get revenge, you positionned your food to spell "I LOVE U" along with a little addition sign, and he shook his head.
"It doesn't work, you didn't spell it right." he said.
If your eyes were guns, he would've been cribbled with bullets in a heartbeat. He laughed and gently kicked your knee underneath the table. You kicked him back and he snorted.
You both spent the evening without another "fight", but you knew he was planning something. So were you.
You brushed your teeth, got undressed and disappeared under the covers. Bucky joined you ten minutes later. You quietly insisted to be the big spoon and he didn't argue, for once; he loved to be the little spoon.
After a few minutes, you drew "I LOVE YOU MORE" on his back with your index. You heard him chuckle, a deep warm laugh that vibrated through his chest. You pressed yourself against his back and rested your face in the crook of his shoulder.
"I won't let you win this forever, you know." he whispered.
"You will." you murmured.
You cuddled him to sleep, his scent surrounding you. The next morning, you had a day off, so he let you sleep when the alarm rang.
You opened your eyes at 8:30, and the first thing you saw were the rose petals scattered on the floor. You sat up and rubbed your eyes, only to find out James had spelt "I love you more".
You smiled, your heart squeezing happily beneath Bucky's shirt you were wearing.
☆☆★☆☆
Thank you so much for reading this! I hope with all my heart that you enjoyed it.
If you like my writing, you can take a look at my Wattpad account, "WinterBarnes13", but my works on there are mostly in French. I wrote only one Fanfic in English, it's short and was written two years ago.
Lots of love!
- Vee
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catws-anniversary · 22 days
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Thank you to all the creators! Here is the masterlist for Day 9 of our event.
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THEME: CAP QUARTET
gotta catch 'em all by @gyokujyn [remix]
Cap Quartet by @skullfragments [fanart]
advanced car surfing for dummies by @gyokujyn [remix]
Home is where you are by @buckys-wintersoldier [fanfic, t, bucky/reader, reader insert]
or a blond carnie with hearing aids and really good aim by @gyokujyn [remix, bucky/natasha]
alexa play jolene by @gyokujyn [remix]
First meetings be like by @metalbvcky [gifset]
Prompt: Found Family
Alone again by @nekoannie-chan [fanfic, t, jack rollins]
found family by @riricitaa [gifset, steve rogers, sam wilson, natasha romanoff]
found family by @ace-bucket [fanart, cap quartet]
some people get both by @gyokujyn [remix, steve rogers, sam wilson, natasha romanoff]
love at first strike by @howliesbarnes [fanfic, t, cap quartet, steve/bucky]
Prompt: Bedside Vigil
hi i'm captain america by @gyokujyn [remix, sam wilson, steve rogers]
For Reasons Wretched and Divine (Ch.9) by @mandyyvibes [fanfic, m, polyamory]
Prompt: Breakfast
Inseparable on schoolyard and battlefield (Day 9) by @voylitscope [fanfic, g, steve/bucky]
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Other works
An Asset's Liabilities by @stuckyfingers [fanart, m, hydra trash party, bucky barnes]
Trigger words by @arctic-turtle-cassiopeia [fanart, bucky barnes, hydra]
Proof that Captain America: The Winter Soldier is actually a romcom by @rillils [meta, steve/bucky]
Ghost Story by @kaifloof [fanart, steve/bucky]
We Look Like Enemies by @endlesstwanted [fanfic, t, bucky barnes, sam wilson]
Last Time I Saw You by @endlesstwanted [fanfic, t, bucky/natasha]
He Was Bucky First by @endlesstwanted [fanfic, t, steve rogers, natasha romanoff]
Tables Turn by @endlesstwanted [fanfic, t, natasha/rumlow]
27 notes · View notes
bobgasm · 6 months
Text
lieutenant smoulder [08/15]
pairing: bucky barnes x reader word count: 2258 warnings: mentions of periods/menstrual cycles, allusion to pregnancy, a bombshell of a secret, angst
prompt: “i was made for you”
summary: in which they put aside any previous issues to tackle the next obstacle
author’s note: wow, been a minute, huh?
glow | lieutenant smoulder | inferno
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Y/N hated that she’d noticed, but the couple of times where she’s stayed at Bucky’s the previous night, he’d left in a rush. She also hated that she knew this morning he’d slept in and hadn’t gone anywhere.
Pushing that aside, she got up and threw his t-shirt over her head so she could make breakfast. Flicking the radio on to hear some catchy pop song and opening a window to let some fresh air in.
Their shift started in just over an hour, so she brewed up a pot of coffee and started making some bacon and eggs. She was starving, and knew leftover birthday cake wasn’t a substantial enough breakfast.
She wasn’t sure how long Bucky had been awake and watching her dance around the kitchen, but he seemed to be enjoying the show.
“Uh, I made food,” she said, gesturing to the plates on the counter in front of her.
He thanked her with a brief kiss and sat up at the breakfast bar to eat. She slid a mug of coffee over to him and picked at the last of her eggs.
“I need a shower before work,” she announced.
“I’ll let myself out,” he told her. “Thanks for breakfast.”
She slipped out of his shirt and left it on the counter beside him, well aware he was watching her as she walked to the bathroom. 
+++
Y/N couldn’t explain it, but she’d felt something shift. Her relationship with Bucky – if you could call it such – had changed and she wasn’t sure if that was a good thing or not. There was something he was hiding and she didn’t like the jealous feeling that sat in the pit of her stomach.
“You any good at poker?” Romanoff asked as Y/N joined the crew in the mess.
She’d been busy in the gym for the past hour, trying to work her frustrations out in a more productive way. Freshly showered and ready for a quiet evening after a couple of calls throughout the afternoon. There hadn’t been anything major, so everyone was busy lounging around and enjoying the downtime.
Romanoff, Barnes, Wilson, Hill and Banner were playing poker. Someone was making dinner, but she forgot who’s night it was.
“Eh, I’ve played before,” she confessed. “Not sure if I’m any good, though.”
Romanoff dealt her in and she took a seat beside Banner, opposite Hill.
The basics were explained to her as they played a dummy round, just so she could get the hang of everything. It didn’t make a lot of sense, but they were betting peanuts rather than money, so she didn’t care if she won or lost. 
Bruce was quite obviously good, but it was Romanoff and Barnes’ poker faces that threw Y/N a bit. Hill looked like she’s rather be anywhere else but playing, and Wilson kept the banter high. He did his best to make the stone cold duo crack, and while Barnes did occasionally laugh, he was right back to being unreadable.
Y/N had seen that face the previous two mornings when he’d left without so much as a reason. She tried not to let it bother her, but it did, and she wasn’t sure why. 
“Hey, you’ve been kind of off for the last couple weeks. Everything okay?” Romanoff asked. It’d been a while since she’d found herself alone in the red-head’s company, but as they stripped the linen from the beds to do laundry, Y/N almost appreciated the check-in. 
“Yeah, just have a bit on my mind, is all,” she admitted half-heartedly.
“Doesn’t have anything to do with the guy who left the gnarly bruise on your neck after your birthday, does it?”
Y/N laughed as she folded the fitted sheet around the bed in front of her. “It plays a small part, I guess.”
“You want to talk about it?”
Natasha left the question hanging in the air between them, letting Y/N decide whether she wanted to chat or not. After a while, once the bed Y/N had been remaking was finished, she sighed. 
“I think he’s hiding something from me,” she admitted. “He’s always quick to make an exit and constantly telling me he’s having dinner with his Mom, or they get coffee every morning, blah blah. I just can’t help but feel like he’s lying about something.”
Natasha hummed. “Have you asked him about it?”
“We don’t have that kind of relationship,” she said. “I don’t want to come across as jealous or possessive, but if there’s someone else, I’d like to know, you know?”
“Do you want my advice or do you just want to vent?”
“Advice.”
“I think it’s wise to confront him. If it’s just sex between the two of you, you have a right to know if he’s sleeping around with other women. If it was me, I wouldn’t want to see him if he didn’t wear protection. But on the other hand, maybe he is being honest. He could just be a total Mama’s boy.”
Y/N snorted in laughter. “You want to know the kicker, Nat?”
“Hit me,”
“We didn’t use a condom once, and ever since, he’s been insistent on using them,” Y/N said. “And I didn’t fight it, just because I don’t want some other woman’s STD. Last time we had this arrangement neither of us even thought about condoms. That’s what makes me think there’s someone else.”
“It sounds like you need to decide if you want to keep having sex with him, or sit him down and find out what he isn’t telling you,” Natasha said. “If it was me…I wouldn’t have sex with him again until he told me.”
“He’s been busy these last couple weeks,” Y/N said. “Since my birthday…he’s been weird. ‘We can’t see each other tonight, I’m out of town,’ or ‘I can be there in three hours.’ Like, if you don’t want to keep this going then just tell me. I’m a big girl, I can handle it. I just feel like I’m going crazy.”
“You’re not going crazy,” Natasha assured her. “He’s making excuses.”
“And if he is sleeping with other women, do I want him in my bed three hours after he’s likely been in her bed?”
“He sounds like trouble.”
You have no idea.
Y/N sighed, running a hand over her face. “Too much trouble for it to just be sex, right?”
“I didn’t say that,” she replied. “Only you know what you want the outcome to be. Just have to decide whether confronting him about his lies is worth losing the thing you have if you don’t like the answer.”
“Yeah, you’re right. Thanks, Nat.”
Y/N hauled a bag of washing down to the laundry room, needing a moment of silence to think things through. Natasha had a look about her, something she couldn’t quite read. Like she knew something Y/N didn’t, or maybe she was truly clueless and was trying to imagine herself in Y/N’s shoes.
“There’s more going on, isn’t there?” Natasha asked.
As she entered the laundry room with another bag of washing, she found Y/N leaning against the machine with her head lowered.
“I’m late, Nat. Him being weird about the condoms and his general behavior lately…I feel sick.”
Natasha didn’t get a chance to reply, because Wilson was hollering that dinner was ready. She gave Y/N a sympathetic look, but didn’t press the issue as she started angrily throwing sheets into one of the machines. Simply placing a friendly hand on her shoulder and leaving her alone. 
Y/N would be lying if she said she didn’t shed a couple tears, but she was quick to gather herself before plastering on a happy face and joining the team for dinner. Sam had made one of his family’s recipes, and the smell alone made her salivate.
Even if the thought of eating anything made her sick to her stomach.
She dished herself up a small plate, but grabbed a bottle of water as well. Taking a seat beside Bruce, far away from Bucky. Aware that the motion didn’t go undetected from the latter, but forcing herself to eat despite not feeling hungry.
+++
A quiet night was needed, but it wasn’t likely. The siren rang out a little after nine – a candle had caught the shower curtain alight while its owner fell asleep in the bathtub. They required some minor medical attention, and the bathroom was worse for wear, but they’d be okay. It was a good outcome all things considered. 
Y/N was getting a bottle of water from the kitchen when Bucky cornered her. She’d been avoiding him and it was obvious he was here to address that. Even if he had waited until the shift was almost over, while everyone else was asleep in the bunk room. 
“What crawled up your ass and died?” He asked. 
Sure, he could’ve gone about it better, but this was the safest way to communicate. Snippy comments and sarcastic remarks were her M.O. He was trying to make her comfortable to have this conversation while at work.
“Not in the mood today, Barnes,” she replied with a sigh.
He took a moment to stare her down, really look at her. It’d been a couple days since he’d stayed over after her birthday, but she looked exhausted. Dark circles had made themselves at home under her eyes, her brows seemed to be set in a permanent frown, and her attitude had been less than that of a team-player.
While Y/N was still alternating who took the lead on calls, she’d barely spoken to him unless absolutely necessary. Even his smart-ass jabs hadn’t been enough to warrant a retort. 
“Anything I can help with?” He pressed. 
“You’ve done enough,” she stated, letting the words settle between them. 
“So you’re mad at me? That’s new.” He scoffed, rolling his eyes as he turned away.
“Get fucked, Barnes.”
“Are you on your period or something?” He snapped. “Because you’re never this much of a cunt without good reason.”
“Fuck you,” she spat. “I’m allowed to be pissed off without anyone questioning my menstrual cycle. But between you and me? I’m late.”
She was glad she whispered the last part, because it really drove home her point. His eyes widened ever-so-slightly, mouth opening to say something but ultimately deciding against it.
“I’ll pee on a damn stick within the hour. I don’t need you to hold my hand. I don’t need you to do anything, except leave me the fuck alone. Are we clear?”
It was the straw that broke the camel’s back. The first tear fell before she had the chance to swipe it away, and he was quick to wrap his arms around her.
“Let me go.”
“I can’t do that,” he replied, holding her tight as her tears began to soak his shirt. She hated feeling weak, but she hated it even more than he was the one seeing her like this. That he had played a potential role in this situation. “It could just be late.”
“Stop talking,” she shushed him, not wanting to hear any words of comfort from him. The thought had already crossed her mind, but her cycle was like clockwork. She were late, it was as simple as that. 
When the siren blared out, she pulled away from him and quickly wiped her face as she raced to the gear room, listening to where the call was coming from. Her heart sank to the pit of your stomach as she pulled on her turnouts, watching everyone else doing the same.
“That’s a school,” someone said. She honestly had no idea who said it because she was climbing into the rig and putting on her best game face. 
Barnes took his seat opposite her, his face riddled with worry as Captain Wilson relayed the information of the call.
“Fire alarm is going off at an elementary school. No news yet where the fire is, but most of the school has been evacuated. There will be parents going crazy trying to find their kids since it’s about time for school drop-off. We do not need them playing the hero and running into a burning building, copy?”
There was a chorus of ‘yes, sir’s that rang out, but Y/N’s eyes were locked on Bucky. Bucky, who usually kept his face blank when calls like this came in. Bucky, who would joke and keep morale up, was eerily quiet.
It worried her.
When they arrived at the school, she looked at him to run point.
He had eyes for no one but her.
“I need you to take this call, Y/L/N,” he said, voice thick and gravelly. He looked spooked. “I can’t go in there.”
“What? Barnes, it’s all hands on deck! Get your fucking head in the game!” She snapped.
“You’re running point because my son is in there!” He yelled back, running a hand over his face. “Please, my son is in there.”
She squared her shoulders, pushing aside any fear she had. Any doubt she had behind why he’d frozen. 
He had a son. A son he’d literally only just told her about. A son. 
“I’ve got him, Barnes,” she assured him, holding out her fist. He needed to bump it – it was good luck. A promise. She would do everything she could to make sure his boy was safe.
When his fist touched hers, she nodded and turned to face her team. 
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