#bucky barnes reader insert
gutflorizt · 5 months ago
.⋆˚ 𝐓𝐰𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐅𝐨𝐫 𝐃𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐢𝐞𝐬
𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲︱𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐝𝐞𝐜𝐢𝐝𝐞𝐝 𝐭𝐨 𝐭𝐞𝐚𝐜𝐡 𝐁𝐮𝐜𝐤𝐲 𝐡𝐨𝐰 𝐭𝐨 𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐲 𝐓𝐰𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫. 𝐀𝐟𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐡𝐞 𝐠𝐨𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐠 𝐨𝐟 𝐢𝐭 𝐡𝐞 𝐝𝐞𝐜𝐢𝐝𝐞𝐝 𝐭𝐨 𝐚𝐝𝐝 𝐚 𝐭𝐰𝐢𝐬𝐭.
𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠︱𝐑𝐨𝐨𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐭𝐞!𝐁𝐮𝐜𝐤𝐲 𝐁𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐞𝐬 𝐱 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫
𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬︱𝟏𝟖+, 𝐒𝐌𝐔𝐓, 𝐜𝐮𝐫𝐬𝐢𝐧𝐠, 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 𝐭𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐛𝐮𝐜𝐤𝐲, 𝐩𝐞𝐭 𝐧𝐚𝐦𝐞: 𝐝𝐨𝐥𝐥, 𝐬𝐭𝐫𝐢𝐩 𝐭𝐰𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫, 𝐨𝐫𝐚𝐥 (𝐟!), 𝐝𝐞𝐠𝐫𝐚𝐝𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐤, 𝐩 𝐢𝐧 𝐯 𝐬𝐞𝐱, 𝐮𝐧𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐜𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐬𝐞𝐱, 𝐬𝐪𝐮𝐢𝐫𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠
𝐀𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐍𝐨𝐭𝐞︱@buckspumpkin 𝐠𝐚𝐯𝐞 𝐦𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐢𝐝𝐞𝐚 𝐬𝐨 𝐚 𝐛𝐢𝐠 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐤 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐭𝐨 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐦!𝐈'𝐦 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐫𝐞𝐥𝐲 𝐬𝐮𝐫𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐢𝐬 𝐡𝐨𝐰 𝐓𝐰𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐤𝐬 𝐛𝐜 𝐈'𝐯𝐞 𝐧𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐲𝐞𝐝 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐠𝐚𝐦𝐞 𝐥𝐨𝐥. 𝐅𝐞𝐞𝐝𝐛𝐚𝐜𝐤 𝐢𝐬 𝐚𝐩𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐜𝐢𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐝, 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐤 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠! 𝐈 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐚𝐥𝐥 <𝟑
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“Bucky you have to watch the movie, it’s phenomenal!” You rambled on as you plopped down next to him. “I know you don’t like a lot of the newer things but you’ll like this for sure.” 
“Are we sure we want to watch tv?” Bucky asked, trying to divert your attention. “You know what we should do?” 
He snapped his fingers in the air, “Play a board game!” 
“Buck we’re not playing a board game,” You said as you grabbed the remote. “Come on please just try it. If you don’t like it we can–oh my god!” You gasped when you turned on the t.v and was faced with a cracked screen. 
You turned to Bucky with your mouth agape, “What happened?” 
“Sam came over and–” 
“I don’t think I need an explanation, you said enough,” You cut him off. “I’ll bring my computer, just give me a second.” 
You left and Bucky was left sitting on the couch as he played with his thumbs. He watched you curiously as you marched out of your room and back into the living room where the internet box was. You inspected the internet box and let out soft questioning hums. 
“That’s weird, everything is just fine so why isn’t the internet working?” A moment of silence passed as you tried figuring out what was wrong. “Bucky, did you forget to pay the internet bill?” 
He screwed his eyes shut in frustration, “I must’ve. I’m so sorry Doll.” 
“S’okay Buck, it happens to the best of us. I’ll go pay it tomorrow during work.” You blew air through your lips and tucked your hands into the front sprocket of your jeans. “Looks like we’re playing a board game.” 
Bucky followed you to a very small closet down the hall. That closet mostly contained board games and long forgotten boxes you were supposed to open when you first moved in. 
You opened the door, revealing the dust collected boxes. 
“We can play Uno.” 
“Too repetitive,” You said. “What about Monopoly?” 
“No, because you cheat!” Bucky accusingly exclaimed. 
“I do not!” You defended. “Ok so no Monopoly….We should play chess!” 
“What are we 80 years old?” 
You glanced at him and checked him out, “Well you are.” 
Bucky’s face scrunched into one of annoyance, “Ha. Ha. Very funny.” Bucky hummed as he kept looking. “What’s Twister?” 
“You’ve never played before?” You asked as you grabbed the box. 
“No, I've played my entire life and I suddenly forgot what it is,” Bucky sarcastically said. “I haven't played before, that's why I’m asking.” 
You grabbed the box and started to walk back to the living room while you explained the rules. “There's a color wheel with a picture of a body part, depending where it lands you place the body part on that color. So say I spin and I get green and right hand then I have to put my right hand on a green circle on the mat.” 
“Seems easy enough.” 
Bucky truly overestimated his flexibility. At first glance he thought it would be easy and you would easily lose against him. He’s a very trained soldier after all.
Bucky flicked the spinner. Body part, foot. Colour, green. He bent over on top of you but because the only green circle left that can make it physically possible is behind him. Which means he would have to be stuck in a crab position until it’s his turn. 
“Come on Barnes, this hurts,” You complained as your arm cramped under you. 
“I don’t think I can do this,” He muttered to himself. 
“Either we keep going by you trying or it’s a forfeit and I automatically win.” 
There was no way Bucky was going to lose to you. He instantly moved backwards and into the dreaded crab position. 
Right as you went to flick the spinner you lost your balance and fell, making Bucky automatically the winner. 
“Ha! I win and you lose!” Bucky boatsed as he got up. “And I didn’t cheat.” 
“Yeah yeah you win and I lose,” You mumbled and tucked your legs under you. “How’d you like the game?” 
“It was alright,” Bucky shrugged. “But what if we added our own twist to it?” 
“Like what?” 
“Every time it lands on red we have to take a piece of clothing off,” He smirked. “In other words, strip Twister.” 
“You’re on Barnes,” You smirked, getting up. “You’re going first though.” 
Bucky flicked the spinner, left hand on red. Bucky clicked his tongue as he took off a sock and placed his left hand on the red circle. It was your turn and you landed on right hand on green. 
“You better not cheat,” Bucky teased. 
“Or what?” You playfully retorted. “Is the big bad soldier going to get mad?” 
“Jesus christ,” Bucky chuckled as he shook his head. “You love to tease me don’t you?” 
“Yes sir,” You winked as you saluted him with a devilish smile. 
“Just for that I’m making you go again.” 
“Meanie,” You pouted and spun again. “Oh you have to be kidding me,” You groaned when you landed on left foot on red. You copied Bucky and took your sock off. 
It was Bucky’s turn and he landed on right hand on blue. A flash of disappointment ran though you and you cursed at the spinner. 
“Why the sad look Doll? Wanted me to strip?” 
“You wish,” You scoffed. “Your turn.” 
The both of you continued taking off the smaller pieces of clothing, each getting excited with each spin. Soon enough Bucky had ran out of small clothing to take off. He spun and landed on red. 
“Get ready to see an adonis Doll,” Bucky said as he peeled off his shirt. 
You stared in awe as you watched him. It all felt like it was going in slow motion right before your very own eyes. He was an adonis. Even the faded jagged scars around his arm made you want to plant sweet tender kisses upon them, showering them in your affection. 
“Hey eyes up here,” Bucky smirked as he pointed his finger up towards his eyes. 
You rolled your eyes, “I’ll look wherever I want.” 
Now it was your turn. You spun the spinner and landed on red. Perfect. 
You slowly took your pants off, making sure to purposefully wiggle your but in front of his face. Bucky’s throat went dry when he saw your thighs. All the blood started to rush to his cock and he knew the game wouldn’t last long. 
“Now I really can’t do this,” Bucky said as he contemplated losing. You only had a pair of panties and shirt left on and he only had his boxers on. If he took his next move his face would be impossibly close to your chest and he would for sure lose. “I really can’t.” 
“Just do it Barnes, s’all part of the game.” 
Bucky took your word and maneuvered his body around, his hand going over your body to land on the green dot in the right hand corner. Just as he predicted his head was right in front of your breast. 
Bucky turned a bright shade of tomato red as he tried to look anywhere else. His hardened cock pressed against your thigh and you smirked in triumph. Bucky had desperately tried to hide his boner and he was successful. For the most part. 
“What sarge? Can’t handle a pair of tits in your face?” You asked as you pushed your chest in front of his face tauntingly. 
“That’s it,” Bucky growled as he got up. 
“Ha! I won!” You stuck your tongue out at him. “I’m the winner!”
“For now.” Bucky abruptly grabbed you and tossed you over his shoulder with ease. You squealed as you felt his metal hand grasped your body. He took you to his room and gently set your body on the bed. 
Bucky shortly after climbed on top of you and kissed you with an intense need. His body grinded against yours as he sloppily kissed you. 
“Just take this damn thing off,” Bucky snarled against your lips as he ripped your shirt in half. His jaw momentarily dropped when your bare breasts were exposed, “No bra? Dirty slut.” 
His hands played with your breasts, his thumb stroking your pebbled nipples ever so slightly. Your body arched into his touch, silently begging for more. He took the hint and his lips placed their love on your body all the way where you needed him the most. 
Using his teeth Bucky pulled your panties down to your ankles. It was the most erotic thing you’ve ever seen your entire life you couldn’t helped but have moaned. You felt his head dip between your thighs, his growing beard scratched your inner thighs deliciously. 
“Can’t wait for your pretty thighs to tremble ‘round my head,” Bucky quipped, biting one of your thighs. 
Bucky spread your legs impossibly further, watching your pussy leak. He flattened his tongue and likced a bold stripe up your cunt. Your hands flew to his hair, gripping the tousled hair in between your fingers. 
“You taste so sweet Doll,” He complimented, dipping his tongue into your hole. “Like fuckin’ candy.” 
Bucky went from long bold licks to short sweet kitten licks. It made you writhe around in pleasure and push your pussy closer to his face. His hot wet tongue was addictive, he had become your own personal drug. 
You felt his tongue trace out letters on your clit. You tried so hard to concentrate but the pleasure overwhelmed you. He kept going again and again until you finally got it. My cumslut. 
“Bucky y-you gotta stop-AH!” You moaned when he started to harshly suck on your clit. “Bucky!” 
Bucky pulled away, a string of your arousal connecting to his lips. “You really want me to stop?” 
“Yes,” You shook your head no despite your response. 
Bucky chuckled at your response, “Why?” 
You nervously gulped, “Because the first time I cum I want it to be around your cock.” 
Bucky looked genuinely shocked at your response. Never did he ever think he would hear those words fall from your lips. If he could he would replay those words over and over again until he got tired of hearing them.
Bucky didn’t respond and attacked your lips once again. You felt his tip prod at your entrance, “Needy slut, wanting to cum on m’cock first.” During the middle of his sentence he pushed all the way in, bottoming out soothingly. 
Pure ecstasy rippled through your lower half, your eyes fluttered shut as you felt him inside you. His hot throbbing member pulsed inside you. Teasing him some more you clenched down hard and watched Bucky’s eyes screwed shut. 
“Can’t stop with the teasin’ huh?” He clicked his tongue. “I’m just going to have to fuck it out of you.” 
His thrusts started slow but quickly rose to a fast and brutal pace using your hips as leverage. So fast your body jolted with the banging headboard. Pain and pleasure seared through your body. Beads of sweat formed between your bodies as Bucky continued to fuck you. 
“You feel s’good Bucky,” You whimpered as you felt his tip rub against your sweet spot. “So good. I love your cock.”
“Cock drunk already?” Bucky questioned. “Looks like it didn’t take long to fuck the teasin’ out of you.” 
“Shut up,” Your voice was merely above a whisper. “Just keep going.” 
Bucky finally felt the tremble of your thighs around his outer thighs. Deciding to spice things up he pressed on your lower tummy so slightly. He watched your eyes roll to the back of your head and drool dribbled from your swollen lips. 
“You look so pretty like this, fucked out becasue of me,” Bucky said as his thumb pushed the drool back in. “Imagine how you would be like if I actually got to take my time with you. Slowly tearing you apart with my fingers, tongue and cock.” 
The mere thought of it was enough to make you come. You dug your nails into his back as you screamed his name while you gushed around his cock. 
“Yes, yes, yes,” You mindlessly hummed as he kept going. 
After a few more thrusts Bucky pulled out and finished over your stomach, both of your juices mixing together. He watched as it started to drip down and closer to your pussy. 
“You ok Doll?” Bucky asked when you didn’t make a sound. 
“I'm way more than ok,” You giggled. “I don’t think it’s ever felt this good before.” 
“That's because the other guys weren’t me, Doll,” he pointed out. “Remember that, no man will ever make you feel as good as me.”
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bucky-bucky-bucky-bucky · 21 days ago
You're My Mess | Bucky Barnes x Reader
Hi! This was a request from the always wonderful @the-kestrels-feather :)
Warnings: some blood / Bucky's injuries, ~nudity~ (but not smutty)
A metallic scraping sound nearly scared you out of your skin. Maybe it was just noise from the street below. Maybe your weird neighbor was playing with his katana again. You pressed play on your paused tv show and tried to continue watching, but the sound persisted. It almost sounded like- was it coming from the front door?
In nothing but a pair of underwear and one of Bucky’s shirts, you tiptoed toward the peephole. It went against everything scary movies ever taught you. You can’t go investigate a strange noise. And you should never say “Who’s there?”- that’s how you end up dead. You wanted to make it to the end credits, but your many viewings of Scream clearly taught you nothing.
You held your breath as you peered through the peephole- if someone was here to kill you, you at least wanted to know who. And through the distorted lens, you saw a familiar face.
“Bucky!” you chirped as you threw open the door. Your hands were on him in seconds, grabbing his face and pulling him in for a long, long over-due kiss. 
“Hey, baby…” he dropped his forehead against yours. God, he needed this. He needed you. And nothing welcomed him home quite like his best girl wearing his shirt.
He pulled you into his body with a groan and a grimace. He’d taken his fair share of beatings- and a few of Sam’s- on this mission, and his body hated him for it. Yes, the serum would have him good as new in no time. But it didn’t dull the pain. It couldn’t save him from the vibrating agony that pulsed with each beat of his heart. The throbbing inside his head. But he needed to hold you. He didn’t care that your elbow dug into his stab wound. He’d been gone too long. And with his arms wrapped tight around your body, every last ounce of anxiety dissipated. 
“You okay, babe?” With your head pressed to his chest, you heard the pained sound rumble inside his body. It pinballed against his ribs and echoed under your ear. Bucky always came home a shell of himself. Empty. Hurting. It killed you.
“I’m good, just-“ he craned his neck back and forth, “sore. And tired. And I missed you."
He caught a glimpse of his dirty hand around your waist, and nearly recoiled. "Shit, sorry. I'm a mess. I shouldn't be-"
"But you're my mess. Come on, let’s get you inside, Sarge.”
You gently tugged him through the door and welcomed him into the warmth of the home you shared. He missed this space when he was away. The warm light, the shelves lined with classic books, the half-burned candles. This small apartment gave him a safe hideaway from the world that hated him, and shielded him with nothing but love and light. 
“Here, I’ll take this…” you slid his bag from his shoulder and dropped it to the floor. “And this-” Your hands made quick work of his belt, removing it and its many sheathed knives. “You know, sometimes I can’t believe that you actually have a utility belt,” you laughed. “I mean, you’re like Bat Man… or Wonder Woman”.
Bucky gave you an affectionate eyeroll and a strained laugh.
“Oh, and I’ll take this too,” you said, unbuckling the holster from his thigh. You couldn’t believe they made holsters big enough to wrap around Bucky’s beefy quads. His ‘thighs of betrayal’, as you often called them. 
“Alright, now come're,” you pulled him over to a kitchen chair and made him sit before sinking to your knees in front of him.
“Woah, woah, sweetheart,” Bucky teased, “At least buy me dinner first.”
“Oh, hush”, you stuck your tongue out at him. Truth be told, you’d been ready to jump his bones the moment you saw him. And wrapping your hands around his thigh to remove his holster had your mouth watering. But if he was hurting, if he was exhausted and depleted, your desperate lust for him could wait. He needed to heal before you replaced his stab wounds with bite marks and hickeys. You freed Bucky’s feet from his combat boots and made a move toward the shoe rack, but Bucky stopped you.
His hand darted out and hooked around your fingers, “don’t”.
“It’s okay, Buck. I’m just putting your boots away-”
“But- can you come here?”
He hated being needy. And clingy. And desperate. But after his time away, he needed you close by. He needed to make up for all the miserable days and cold nights spent without you. He needed his best girl. 
With a gentle tug, he pulled you into his lap. His arms wrapped around you as you straddled his hips, locking your bodies together. He rested his chin on your shoulder. You pressed a kiss to his cheek. A deep sigh fell from Bucky’s chest. The fear dissipated. The dread fell away. And suddenly, it was just you. Just you and Bucky and the home you shared. He checked his ghosts at the door and fell into the peace you brought.
“I’m so glad to be back”
“And I’m so glad to have you, babe. I’m so- wait, hang on…” You pulled back a bit and met his eyeline. “Why’d you knock? Did you lose your keys?”
Bucky let out an exhausted laugh, “No…but they were in my bag. And I was too tired to look for them.” He let his head fall against your sternum. He could fall asleep like this. “I just wanna go get in bed and sleep for fifteen hours, or so.”
You wriggled free from his grasp and tried to pull him to his feet. “Come on, let’s get you cleaned up, Sarge.”
But Bucky resisted. He almost didn’t have enough energy to stand, let alone shower. “But baaaaaby,” he whined, “I’m too tired”. His slumped shoulders and under eye circles told you as much. His mission was supposed to be four days- but he was gone for nine. Double the work, double the effort, double the fatigue.
“I know, Buck,” you said, cradling his face. “But you can't get in bed like this. Your hands are all covered in in gunpowder and there’s blood in your hair- blood I’m hoping doesn’t belong to you…?”
He nodded.
“I promise you’re gonna feel much better after a shower.”
He shrugged. He just wanted to crawl into bed with you- anything else was simply a distraction.
“It’ll be a lot easier to get the blood out of your hair if we do it now,” you said. “The longer we wait, the stickier it’s gonna get.” You could just see Bucky tomorrow morning, raking a comb furiously through his bloody hair and ripping it out at the root. “Okay, how about this: You stay here.” Bucky perked up. “I’ll go run a bath- that way you can relax a little bit and won’t have to stand in the shower?”
He thought it over for a moment. The idea enticed him, but didn’t convince him.
“And I’ll join you. I’ll help you get cleaned up. I can take care of all this…” you grabbed at a few strands of his hair. “And I’m sure you’ve got some wounds that need cleaning. Deal?” 
You knew Bucky’s injuries couldn’t get infected, but leaving them unattended felt neglectful. Regardless of the serum, he needed care. And you needed him to know how much he meant to you. After each mission, you cleaned and bandaged his fast-healing wounds. You gently freed them of debris and broken glass, checked on them until the serum made them vanish.
Although unnecessary, it showed Bucky just how important he was to you, how highly you valued his well-being. Before you, he didn’t care to disinfect or cover his injuries- he let himself bleed. 
Bucky didn’t hear anything after you promised to join him in the bath. His desire for sleep vanished, revealing an even deeper need: you. Your body against his. Your hands in his hair. Of course, he’d thought about fucking you since the moment he left- but this was different. He needed to feel you. To know you were there. To hear your steady heartbeat. Each new mission brought with it the fear that he’d never see you again. And it scared him more than any Hydra agent ever could. It was a fate worse than death.
Bucky nodded against your hand, his stubble scratching your palm. 
“Okay, you sit tight. I’m gonna go start the water.” You made an attempt to get up, but Bucky wasn’t having it. He refused to let you go for another few minutes, and you let him take his time. Coming down from a mission was hard on him. You moved at his pace.
When he allowed you to get up, you headed for the bathroom and filled the tub with water. Bucky remained in his chair, exactly where you left him. He felt himself nodding off a few times, but refused to plunge into full-blown sleep. He found himself teetering on the edge once again when you called to him.
“Ready whenever you are, Sarge!” 
You padded toward him, your clothes missing, and found him blinking away sleep. “Come on, I promise this won’t take long.”
At the sight of you, Bucky perked up. “I mean, if it takes a long time, it takes a long time…” he said, making grabby hands for your waist, “who am I to rush you?”
“You’re a fiend, you know that?” 
“I know. But I’m your fiend.”
With his hand in yours, you dragged him in the direction of the bathroom. A pitstop at the laundry room let Bucky shed his bloody clothes, giving you the chance to lay eyes on his body. You still weren’t used to his Adonis-esque physique. And you knew you never would be. But the blood and bruising distracted you. Red slash marks ripped across his abdomen. Purple bruises stained his shoulder. A bloody stab wound dug into his chest. And his back was just as bad.
“I know it looks bad…” he said, “but I’m fine. I promise.”
Bucky’s definition of “fine” never quite matched up with yours. And seeing him hurt never got easier. You swallowed the lump in your throat and ushered him down the hall. 
He grimaced as the hot water met the gashes littering his legs, but the stinging subsided when you stepped into the tub. Or maybe his open wounds still throbbed in the scalding water- he wasn’t sure. He was too distracted by you pulling him into your body. His shoulders rested against your chest and his head fell back against your shoulder, his nose brushing along your neck.
“Is that even comfortable?” you laughed, “looks kinda like you’re gonna have a crick in your neck by the time we’re done here.”
He took a deep inhale. And let out a long sigh. “Don’t care. Missed you.”
“Missed you more”.
You let him rest like that for a while, let him drink in the feeling of home. But you watched the water slowly redden, like you were steeping raspberry tea. “Okay, babe. We gotta get to work”, you said, forcing Bucky to sit upright. He watched you loosen the drain and run more water until the red tinge vanished. But he knew it would return soon enough. 
“Just tell me if I hurt you, okay?” 
He nodded. And you got to work. You let your hands weave slowly in and out of his locks, gently scrubbing and massaging his scalp with shampoo. He didn’t like putting you in this sort of position, but couldn’t stop himself from enjoying the feeling. He’d missed you so much. He thought about you constantly and ached for your touch. And even though the two of you sat chest-deep in blood-stained bath water, he smiled. He hummed in approval every now and then. He leaned into your touch. He felt safe.
Coagulated pieces of dried blood fused his strands together. You cringed when they plopped into the water. Every time you pulled your hands from his locks, a red stain smeared across your palms. Lathering and rinsing and re-lathering Bucky’s hair dyed the water crimson. And you feared it would never end. He’d loosen the drain, let the tub empty, and fill it again- only for the sickly scarlet tinge to return. You’d promised to do this for him, but it seemed as though you’d run out of shampoo before fulfilling your promise. 
Just as you used the last bit of shampoo, your hands returned from his scalp without a bloody stain. You dragged your nails across his scalp and inspected every last strand, finding no blood in sight. Finally. 
“Hair’s all clean,” you said, “now just let me condition”. Bucky gave a small nod, too tired and entranced by your scalp massage to really listen. 
And when you finished with his hair, you moved to his body. Both of you sat stewing in a bio-hazard of blood and grime- it almost made you sick. Breaking your promise, you made Bucky stand and take a proper shower. He groaned as you helped him up, but found his smile again as you pressed your body against his. Your hands worked over him slowly, ridding his battered body of gun powder and ash and dried blood. You helped him feel like a new man. 
And then it was your turn. Guilt soured Bucky’s experience when he noticed your blood-stained nails and red-streaked body. And he was determined to make it right. Just as you’d done for him, he carefully dragged his hands over every inch of your skin. He was thorough- maybe a bit too thorough- but couldn’t resist touching you. And you’d never protest. 
“You hang right here for a sec,” you said, “I’m gonna go grab us some clothes-”
“I mean, do we really need clothes?” He shot you a tired wink. Even exhausted, this man was a menace.
“I mean, no. We don’t need clothes,” you dropped your towel. “But you do need some bandages.”
Bucky sat on the edge of the tub while you carefully cleaned and covered his wounds. He never protested when you played doctor. Sure, it was more work for you. But he knew it made you feel good to take care of him. And it made him feel good to know how much you cared. 
“All done,” you admired your work with a satisfied sigh. “Let’s get you to bed, babe.”
Bucky followed you like a lost puppy, nearly stepping on your heels as he walked. This was the moment he’d been waiting for since the second he left. And as he collapsed into bed next to you, he finally felt at peace. 
“Can I…?” he asked, motioning for your chest.
“I’d be upset if you didn’t.”
With that, Bucky rested his head on your chest. His wet hair sent goosebumps flooding across your skin, but you didn’t care. You stroked his back and left kisses against his scalp, whispering ‘I love you’s every now and then. He returned each and every one. His arms wrapped tighter around you, as though he feared you’d disappear. 
“Go to sleep, Buck. I know you’re exhausted.”
“I know, I’m just-” a yawn interrupted him. “I just missed you.”
“And I missed you. But I promise I’ll still be here in the morning.” You pressed another kiss to the top of his head, “rest, baby.”
He took a few more seconds to drink in the environment: your warm body under his, the cozy blankets, the smell of your shampoo in his hair. And with his last conscious breath, he told you once more just how much he’d missed you.
Tag list: @beefybuckrrito @shadytalementality @everything-burns-down @rainbow-unicorn-pony @mandersshow @breakablebarnes @psychoticmason @glxwingrxse @deepsketchsupernaturalcowboy @mrsdrysdale18 @lonewolf471 @dreamerglassesgirl @the-gods-gloted-but-they-burned @purpleshallot @duchessoftheheart @seitmai @itvy5601 @hisxsoulmate @dailyreverie @navs-bhat @eviesaurusrex @themorningsunshine @masteroflightningz @evangeliamerryll @god-ofthunder @broadwaybabe18 @the-kestrels-feather @avocadotoastwithegg @goldylions @lokisasgardianvampirequeen
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buckys-p1um · 6 months ago
“look at me” / bucky barnes 
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summary: reader and bucky fail a mission. reader is very upset about it and buck keeps trying to get you to look at him. once you comply, he praises you and you just can’t get enough.
pairings: bucky barnes x fem!reader
warnings: SMUT!!! 18+ ONLY. praise, degrading, usage of ‘slut/whore’, dumbification, unprotected sex (dont be like them, guys. dont be silly, protect your willy 8| ), fluff at the end, daddy kink, bucky calling you ‘good girl’ etc LOL.
word count: 2,748
a/n: i kinda,,,, forgot to put in there that reader and bucky have been dating for a while? OOPS!
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“Please look at me.” Bucky’s voice was quiet, raspy. You couldn’t bear to make direct eye contact with the former assassin. You shook your head at him, frowning slightly. You both had just returned from a pretty stressful mission. One that failed, due to your little slip-up. It was all your fault, and you felt so ashamed. You knew Bucky wouldn’t be angry with you, but you couldn’t help but entertain the irrational thought. Bucky sighed softly, 
“Sweetheart, please?” you shook your head once more, covering your face with your hands. You wouldn’t dare look him in the eyes, fearing that he’d be staring right at you, expressing his frustration. Him of all people would be the least upset with you; he’s had his fair share of failed missions as The Winter Soldier, and suffered immense consequences from them. If anything, he understood how you felt. It would be wrong of him to scold you. 
“I can’t believe I messed up.” you murmured, the guilt was starting to get to you. You couldn’t help but fight back tears. In the middle of the mission, you got startled by something you heard, which led to the two of you getting ambushed by the enemy. You ended up having to call for backup. You couldn’t fight them off on your own, even with Bucky by your side. You weren’t typically bothered by noises, such as gunshots and yelling. But this noise in particular really shook you for some reason. It wasn’t even technically a noise, you heard a voice. It sounded like your mother. Your mom had passed away a few years ago, so there was no way it could’ve been her you heard. But her voice sounded so… angry. 
“It was all my fault. I-I heard my mom, and I just… freaked out. My mom died three years ago. There’s no way it was her but Buck, I heard her.” your face still covered with your hands, you began to explain why you screwed up and how it was your fault. Bucky smoothed out your hair with his right hand, his warmth felt nice. His hand rested on your shoulder, listening to you intently. 
“She sounded so angry with me. I don’t even remember what she said, but it scared me… That’s why I couldn’t keep quiet or even sit still. It was so nerve wracking. She wouldn’t stop yelling, it was like she was on the enemy’s side, trying to fight us or something.” you finished, your voice a mere whisper. Bucky pursed his lips together, “Babydoll, mistakes happen. It’s what makes us human. Even if you did mess up, it’s best not to dwell on it, y’know? I’m not going to yell at you for making a mistake, honey. I know how it feels.” his voice was comforting, you could tell he was being genuine. You still felt pretty guilty, though. 
“Now can you please look at me? Pretty please?” he pleaded, and you slowly pulled your hands away from your face, looking at him with your (eye color) hues. He smiled warmly, meeting your gaze with his glacial blues,
“Thatta girl, that’s it. Good girl.” he praised, holding you close to him. You melted into his touch, his words of commendation. You only wanted more of it. Of course, he’d deliver accordingly. 
“More…” you whimpered, gripping onto his black henley shirt. Fuck. You were putty in his hands. You couldn’t believe after all of this, you were practically begging him to praise you more. But you wouldn’t have it any other way.
“More what, hmm? Use your words, darling.” he cooed, and suddenly, all of your guilt and shame was gone. Bucky had you in the palm of his fucking hand, and he knew this too well. He pulled you onto his lap, peppering light kisses against the front of your neck. You whined loudly, his lips felt godly on you. You grinded your hips against him, attempting to get some type of friction. You wanted more, you felt so greedy but you craved Bucky desperately.
“None of that, sweetheart. Tell me what it is you want babygirl.” he hummed, nibbling on the sensitive spot of your neck. Your hips bucked forward, moaning his name under your breath. He grinned, knowing how fragile you were when it came to him touching you. You could shatter like glass at any given moment, and he loved every second of it. 
“More of you, more of this, hh, fuck! Bucky..” you groaned, throwing your head back. His hands gripped onto your hips tightly, 
“That’s my sweet girl. Good girl.” he pressed more kisses to your neck as he worked on removing your shirt. As beautiful as you were in this outfit, he much preferred you without any. He lived for worshipping your body, whether you were all dressed up, or completely bare underneath him. Once he got your shirt off, Bucky threw it to the side. He kissed your collarbone, nibbling on the skin gently, which drove you insane.
“P-Please.” you mewled, 
“More…” panting desperately, you began to ride his thigh slowly. Rocking your hips back and forth against him. 
“So eager and greedy today, angel… Who’s Daddy’s good girl, hmm?” his voice deep with lust, you bit back a moan as you felt his body buck upwards, bouncing you up and down on his thigh.
“Is it me?” you murmured, the pleasure taking complete control of your mind. You looked at him with half-lidded eyes, the look on your face was priceless to him. It only left him wanting, no, needing more of you. 
“It’s always been you, sweetheart. Look at you, so desperate for my cock with that stupid look on your face. You wanna be fucked stupid, huh? So cute.” he swiftly removed your bra, his lips moving down to your nipples, taking one in his mouth, suckling delicately on the mound of flesh. You collapsed into him, moaning his name into his shirt. You could feel his cock throbbing through his pants.
“Daddy…” you pawed at the raging erection he had, with only one thing on your mind. Being fucked silly until you forgot about everything that happened within the past few days. So much unnecessary stress that Bucky did not mind relieving for you. 
“What is it poppet?” he hummed, teasing your other nipple with his vibranium fingers. The cool metal sent shivers down your spine. You gripped onto his shirt, crying out for him. This made him feel so prideful. Knowing he was the only person in this world who could make you feel that good. The only person who could get such reactions out of you. 
“I need you.. So bad. Fuck me ‘til I cry. Make me scream, make everyone in this compound know who I really belong to.” Bucky grinned from ear to ear, giving your nipple one last lick and pinch before he lifted his shirt up over his shoulders. He watched his shirt fall onto the floor lifelessly, diving back in to kiss you. His lips felt so plump against your own, riddled with desire. He nipped at your lower lip,
“So good for me.” 
“Such a kinky girl for me.” he pecked you once more, moaning into the kiss,
“Such an angel, Y/N…” one last kiss,
“I could just fucking destroy you right now.” Bucky was hungry for you, your body, everything you could possibly offer. He wanted it all. No one else could have it either, except for him. You held onto his shoulder, your free hand running down his perfectly chiseled body. He was perfect in every way. 
“You’re so perfect, Buck.” you glanced up at him with a dreamy look, your pools of color lazy and lust ridden. He hummed, accepting the praise. He palmed your breasts, cupping them in his hands and squeezing them together. God. He couldn’t get enough of it, enough of you. 
“Look who’s talkin’.” he chuckled huskily, continuing to play with your tits. You whined, your cunt basically dripping for him at this point. You wanted him inside of you already, how much longer was he going to tease you?
“Every inch of you. I’m so in love with you, Y/N. You’re such a pretty girl, so desperate for my cock.” he worshipped you, as if you were some sort of goddess. Within seconds, his black jeans were on the floor, now hovering over you. His dick was begging for release, you could just tell by looking at his boxers. Fuck. You needed him in the worst way. And you needed him now.
“Please.. Please just fuck me!” you raised your voice slightly, looking up at Bucky desperately. Another chuckle left him as he removed your skirt, noticing you weren’t wearing any panties. The smirk on his face was enough to make your body scream. 
“So slutty. All for me… You want this cock so badly, dont’cha?” you nodded vigorously at his question, and he was happy to give you what you wanted. He slipped out of his boxers, his thick member swinging up eagerly. 
“Say the magic words babydoll.” Goddammit. Was he seriously going to make you beg right now? Both of you were obviously done with the teasing. You parted your lips to speak, but all you could muster was a mere whine.
“Pshh, you think you’re gonna get what you want whimpering like that?” he cooed, slapping his cock against your pussy a few times, teasing you once more. Fuck.
“Please! Please, Daddy? I need you so bad, I can’t take it anymore.” you mouthed dumbly, your mouth agape. He snickered, pushing the tip of his dick into your folds slightly, 
“Thatta girl… So good for me. So hungry for my fat cock, huh?” he leaned down and kissed your cheek swiftly,
“You’re practically drooling at the thought of me fucking you. Such a good whore.” him degrading you felt so good. He knew just the right words to say to make you melt into him. A few seconds pass and he’s completely inside of you, giving you time to adjust to his length. You exhaled shakily, relieved that he was finally giving you what you wanted.
“Feel good?” he asked, before lifting you up and readjusting you on the couch. You nodded as your back rested against the arm of the couch, while he slowly thrusted into you. You moaned his name quite loudly, a little too loud for your liking. Everyone in the compound could probably hear you. You felt so good though, you couldn’t care less. You propped yourself up a bit, one elbow buried into the arm of the couch while you snaked your arm around Bucky’s shoulder.
“Feels so good Daddy..” you murmured, eyes glossing over with tears as he gave one hard thrust, groaning roughly. His member felt heavenly as he continued to slam himself into your wet cunt, the sounds of skin slapping together echoing in his room. 
“Your cunt feels so fuckin’ good clenching around my thick cock babygirl.. You’re doing s-so good.. holy fuuuck.” he groaned deeply as your nails dug into his upper back, practically screaming his name as he picked up the pace. 
“Bucky! Oh my god! More! Please, more!” your entire mind was filled with nothing but the idea of Bucky fucking you until his stamina ran dry. The thought of nothing but pure filth and rough sex corrupting your head, you were beginning to see stars. Your mouth hung open stupidly, moans leaving you left and right. You needed more.
“That dumb look on your face, you like being fucked like this huh, sweetheart? ‘Til you’re completely out of breath, ‘til the only thing you can say is my name? Such a filthy girl.” his dirty words brought you even closer to your climax. Your body was shaking, struggling to not fall off the couch. Bucky wrapped his arm around you, pulling you up and pressing you against the wall. Your pussy screamed for more of him, you were so unbelievably close already, you couldn’t deny it.
When he ran his thumb across your clit and began to rub in circular motions, your head started spinning. Bucky’s thrusts were incredibly quick and rough, him adding onto the pleasure made your lower stomach burn with passion. You felt so good, and you knew Bucky was the only person in your entire life to ever make you feel such a way. Bucky’s breathing became hitched, his groans more aggravated as he slammed himself into you again,
“Fuck! Y/N, oh my god. S-Such a good girl for Daddy, doin’ so good for me… Look at you.. So dumb and pretty lookin’.” he stammered, trying to form coherent sentences. He was so overwhelmed with pleasure, he was pretty much speechless. 
A few more thrusts and he was moaning your name to the gods. He finished inside of you, filling you up with his seed. As spurts of cum erupted from the head of his cock, you knew you were pretty close to your high too. He rode it out with you, violently rubbing at your clit as he shoved himself in and out of you. 
“C’mon doll, cum for Daddy. I know you’ve got it in you.. Mm.. Daddy’s girl, pretty angel, such a sweetheart.” he cooed, his voice hungry and husky. You shut your eyes, throwing your head back into the wall, 
“Bucky! Shit, shit! You– you feel so good, oh my god.” 
“Ah, ah, ah~ Look at me, doll. You know the rules, all eyes on me. I wanna see that look on your face when you cum. You know which look I’m talkin’ about..” he scolded you, and your eyes fluttered open, making direct eye contact with the former assassin. He smiled, leaning forward to kiss you passionately. He moaned as he felt your cunt clench around his member one last time.
“Buck!! Buck!” you couldn’t say anything else but his name. You couldn’t think of anything else except him. He quirked a brow, chuckling,
“What’s wrong babygirl? C’mon, you know how to use your words by now, unless if you’ve been fucked that stupid already?”
“G-Gonna cum.. fuck!” and with one last thrust, you came undone. You were breathing heavily, body trembling as he petted your clit gently. Words of praise dripped from his lips,
“Thatta girl… such a good girl for Daddy, isn’t that right?” a lazy smile tugged on his lips, a droplet of sweat dripping down his temple. He held you close, cock still buried deep inside of you. He carried you to his bedroom, laying you down on the bed, being cautious not to hurt you in any way. Once he slipped his cock out from your swollen cunt, he watched as his cum dripped from you. 
  “Fuck, Bucky. You always know how to make me feel so good.” you giggled sleepily, rubbing your eyes gently. He grabbed a towel from the bathroom, wiping the sweat from your body, dabbing at the cum that spilled onto the bed sheet. He was so caring, so delicate. How could someone with such a past be so courteous? You loved him. He was all you ever wanted in somebody. 
“Buck..” you murmured while he was grabbing yet another clean towel to wipe away the sweat from your forehead. He turned around, looking down at you. He couldn’t help but smirk at the way you looked. He fucked you so stupid, but you still looked beautiful to him. Even if your hair was all messy, completely vulnerable in front of him, even if your makeup was completely smeared and ruined. 
“Yes, sweetheart?” 
“I love you so much.”
“I love you t–” he began, but you interrupted him abruptly.
“You have no idea how much I love you… You treat me so well, you take such good care of me. I couldn’t be more grateful to have you.”
“You’ve been fucked so dumb, you’re even talking silly. I’m so in love with you, doll.” he walked over to you, joining you on the bed. He wrapped his arms around you loosely, pulling you close to his naked body. You smiled, kissing him on the nose, watching his chest rise and fall slowly. His breathing was so comforting. He pulled a blanket over the two of you, humming a lullaby to lull you to sleep. 
You were so thankful to have Bucky Barnes, and he was so thankful to have you, too.
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slyyywriting · 6 months ago
Honey, There's People That Are Dying
Pairing: Mob!Bucky Barnes x Reader
Summary: You make Bucky fish your phone out of the pool.
Wordcount: 2.1k
Warnings: Bucky in vacation mode, smut, outdoor sex, sex by the pool, ass slapping (i forgot what the technical term is), pain kink, dom!Bucky vibes, two feral idiots in love
A/N: Who'd have thought a bunch of 'Bastian photos is going to get me out of my writing funk? I've never written anything so fast since the pandemic lmao. Enjoy~ NOT Beta'd, oops.
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“Bucky!” your shriek reverberates all throughout the villa, scaring a couple of tropical birds out of the giant tree that stood right along where the stone path ends onto the open yard. “I was about to close that deal!”
You huff and stomp your fresh Jimmy Choos on the poolside tiles, freaking out that your very hot and very hot headed boyfriend just chucked your phone into the clear waters of the pool. You took five minutes outside to take a very important business call, thinking it would be fine since your luggage, all seven of your suitcases, three of Bucky’s and a couple of duffle bags, was still being hauled upstairs by the staff of his vacation home.
“And you’re missing the view and the fresh air, sweetheart. We’ve been planning this vacation for months; that call should have happened before you got your sweet ass in the plane.” He steps into your space, grabbing you by the waist and pulling you against him. He slides one thick thigh between your legs and smirks when you squirm at the contact. You whine when his grip tightens, his touch spreading goosebumps all over your skin.
Your hands grip his biceps as heat boils in your core. You stand on the tip of your toes, bumping your nose with his, lips almost touching you tell him, “Hmm… That call was worth 280 million.” You push up and take his bottom lip between your teeth, biting and pulling hard until Bucky yelps and pulls back, lip nipped open. “You better fish out my water proof phone or you pay me the same amount in cash before the sun sets on the view that I’m missing!”
You push him away and point to the small black rectangle chilling on the bottom of the pool. Bucky wipes his lip with his thumb, growling when he sees a blood. You were going to pay for that but right now the look on your face, flushed with anger and just gorgeously seething is making his cock hard.
“Now, Bucky!” you point again to the phone ringing under water, he thinks. He was going to send Tony Stark an email about making things too durable, missing the days when phones died when they catch a little drizzle.
“Sheesh, relax! Okay!” he raises both hands in surrender, walking to the edge of the pool as you crossed your arms and followed behind him. “Honey, there’s people that are dying, you know? And you’re freaking out about a phone.” You roll your eyes and gesture for him to proceed.
You expected him to kneel by the edge and fish it out with his hands but once again shriek loudly when he jumps into the pool, still fully clothed with his shoes on, splashing your sun dress and soaking you. By the time he resurfaces, he’s got your Stark phone in his hand and you grab it quickly.
“Thank you, honeybun!” you blow him a kiss and redial to return to the call. You apologize to the investor, smiling the whole time when you finally get them to agree to your terms. You were humming affirmations when you accidentally make eye contact with your boyfriend, giving you his most murderous gaze while he was soaking wet. His white shirt had become transparent from the water, giving you firm reminder of what you had at the tip of your fingers if you just started your vacation officially.
Bucky shakes the water out of his hair and pulls himself up onto the edge of the pool. His pants were sticking to his thighs that causes you to gulp loudly for air, stuttering when you miss something your investor says but replying dumbly when you see the massive tent in Bucky’s pants.
“Yeah… I-I mean, yes! All of that sounds great! Thank you, I’ll get back to you after my vacation. Bye, thanks!” you ramble and hang up, sticking your feet together and standing in attention. Bucky was full on seething, chest rising visibly as he continues to sit still by the pool’s edge. You wanted to apologize, to him and to your poor pussy that was currently dripping like a broken faucet, for delaying your trip activities when he gestures with one thick and lock finger and beckons you to go to him.
“You done?” he grits the question, jaw clenching in unison with your weeping hole. You nod, not trusting your voice at the moment. “Good, pull your skirt up and lie down here.” He pats his wet thighs and huffs impatiently.
You toss your phone to one of the nearby lounge chairs and quickly bunch your skirt up to your waist. “Buck—Honey baby— Hey, you were the one who wanted to go legit with the business! “ he tuts and you close your mouth. You were in trouble and the excitement curls in your gut pleasantly.
He spreads his legs wider to accommodate you as you lie on your stomach over him, your ass exposed to the cool tropical air. He runs the tips of his fingers gently from your calf to the back of your thighs until he reaches the curve of your ass, alternating between pinching your soft cheeks and squeezing a handful. You moan when he uses his other hand to push your head down and locking you there by the back of your neck.
“Now, I know how important your job is to you. And I know how fun it is to make money,” he slaps your left cheek hard making your head shoot up but he prevents you, making you squirm and feel on your stomach how much joy he’s experiencing right now when his bulge greets you, “but you have to remember, “ another slap, harder this time, “which is more important…” two successive slap and you grunt from the pain that makes your core clench.
“You, Buck! It’s you! You’re the most important thing in my life.” You tell him but he only responds with quick slaps on your throbbing ass. God you won’t be able to sit on it for a while.
“Sshh. I’m not asking a question, sweetheart, so there’s really no need to answer.” He switches to the other cheek and your arm shoots out from under you, aching to grab for something while you endured your punishment. “Stay still or we’ll be here longer.”
He swipes your hair away from your face and you get a glimpse at him, swollen lip as he breathes heavy, face flushed and gorgeous under the sun. Fuck, you were going to come just by looking at him. You nod and he winks down at you.
“Oh, honey, I forgot to initiate the count. Guess we have to start again.” He hums and makes you count to fifteen, tears rolling down your face by the time the last one hits your skin. “Oh, baby come here.” He scoops you up into his lap, legs pulled around his waist to straddle him as he coos at you, peppering your face with kisses. You squirm again when his raging hard on comes in contact with your soaked center and he can’t help but chuckle. “You need me, baby?” you nod and pout and scratch at his neck when you kiss him wantonly, moaning into each other’s tongues as he squeezes you with his large hands.
Bucky infuriated you to no end as both of you tried to control each other, fighting fire with fire, all-consuming with nothing left in your path. You made him crazy when you told him no just to piss him off even when you agreed with him or wanted the same things. And yet he wouldn’t change anything that he had with you. You kept each other on your toes, pulling each other’s string and getting on your last nerves.
Bucky pulls back from the kiss and you start sucking on his neck. “You wanna go inside for this or—“
“No—here—now. Please—“ you rush to tell him pulling at his belt as you kneel to get rid of his pants. He chuckles but agrees, gripping the side of your panties and ripping it in half, tossing it on the pool. He helps you pull his pants enough for his cock already leaking and flushed pink when you finally take it out.
He aligns himself quickly, rubbing the tip into your slick folds before the head penetrates your tight entrance. Fuck, you both cuss at the pressure and the heat. Bucky looks up at you in reverence as your face contorts while your pussy tries to accommodate him, mouth dropping open, no sound coming out just puffs of air that blow on his face. You looked beautiful as the sunlight formed a crown behind you as he splits you in half.
You whine when he finally reaches his hilt, nails digging into his skin as you try to regain your bearings. He does an experimental thrust and you cry out in pleasure, a sound he’ll never get tired of. He lets you set the pace first, he had to be as coherent as possible so he can see your face when you come on his cock.
“Go ahead baby, ride this dick. Make yourself come on your cock, sweetheart.” You nod and begin to move back and forth, using his shoulders as leverage. You swear softly, always surprised at his size and the magic that your body conjures to accommodate him—to take every inch of him with joy. You grind down on him as his hand palms your tits, pulling and twisting on your taut nipples until he pulls down your dress and puts them inside his heavenly mouth. He laps at them, teasing the peaks with the tip of his tongue and nipping at them with teeth. His hand then travels south and cups your ass making you whine and pull up. You sit on him heavily and the both of you grunt from the pressure.
“Again. Do that again—“ he scrapes his teeth on your jaw and licks you there when you do as he says and your core clenches harder at the impact. Bucky encourages you with dirty sweet things. Best pussy I’ve ever had, only pussy I need, soak me honey, fuck please, I need you to cream all over me.
When you pace falters, he takes over and thrusts up into you. Pace faster and harsher than your own, every stroke hitting you deliciously. He pulls one of your legs higher, almost at his shoulder level until he rolls you on your back, cupping the back of your head against the cool tile surface. The change of position gives him more access and he takes himself deeper.
The pain on your ass calls out to you and with all your strength you push at Bucky’s shoulder until you switch positions and you’re atop him again. You close your eyes and ride him faster, he assists you with two fingers to your clit and it powers you through and through, head raised to the clear blue skies until you get thrown into your climax. You clench around Bucky and he growls at the way your pussy tries to suck him all in. Your release triggers his and with a couple more strokes he fills you with his warmth, painting you with his seed, slowly thrusting up into you to mark every thing inside.
He places his hand around your throat as you savor your pleasure, writhing in his hold. He gives you a languid kiss as you come down from your high, rubbing soothing patterns on your back as his spend leaks out of you.
“God, I needed that. I-I’m sorry for yelling at you earlier,” you shyly tuck yourself in the crook of his neck, lying on top of him after getting post nut clarity of your behavior.
“Worth missing two hundred million?” you slap him on the chest and he chuckles, cupping your backside and making you hiss. “So… you in this vacation with me now or do you have anymore more calls to make?”
You sit up still straddling him, his cock still lodged inside you while his come escapes in thick, creamy waves. You smile down at him and clench your pussy around his semi hard on.
“If you eat me out until I pass out, I’ll throw my phone over the balcony and into the sea.” You slowly pull yourself off him and wobble back into the house.
“Fuck!” Bucky tucks his hardening self inside his pants again as he goes after you but not before picking up your ringing phone and turning it off, chucking it off into the bushes. “Wait up! Give me that pussy!”
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youlightmeupfinn · 7 months ago
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➳ summary: When you experience the most intense night of the summer alongside Bucky, who you nickname Steel Blue, you weren't expecting to fall pregnant. When a positive pregnancy test meets your eyes a few days before school starts, you know it belongs to the man who you'd never see again. Until you walk into your Romanian Linguistics class and he's your professor.
➳ pairing: Professor!Bucky Barnes x Female!Reader
➳ warnings: unprotected sex, unplanned pregnancy, slight age-gap, smut throughout book, angst
➳ dedicated to my beautiful best friend pitifulbaby 💙
➳ teaser
➳ one
➳ two
➳ three
➳ four
➳ five
➳ six
➳ seven
➳ eight
➳ nine
➳ ten
➳ eleven
➳ twelve
➳ thirteen
➳ fourteen
➳ fifteen
➳ sixteen
➳ seventeen
➳ eighteen
➳ nineteen
➳ twenty
➳ twenty-one
➳ twenty-two
➳ twenty-three
➳ twenty-four
➳ twenty-five
➳ spotify playlist
➳ The Color Collection
➳ this (made by @drunk-hamlet)
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pellucid-constellations · 25 days ago
A Million Reasons - One
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Pairing: College!Bucky x Reader
Summary: Bucky Barnes, with all of his trust fund money and family connections, gets assigned community service. You, as someone that’s technically part of the community, now have to put up with him. Every day. And he won’t stop killing your plants.
Warnings: Bucky is the captain of this annoyance to lovers ship
Word Count: 3.7k
a/n: New series!! I’m super excited about this one :) Let me know what you think because I adore feedback ♡ 
Series Masterlist // Main Masterlist
The greenhouse was always a touch too warm for your taste. Something about the fixed humidity made your shirt stick to your skin, even as the weather beyond the walls raged with a frigid chill. It made it difficult to appreciate the changing seasons when you found yourself inside with the plants more often than not. 
But it was hard to complain. If being sweaty meant you got to complete your senior research project at an ivy league, you would put up with the hassle. 
God, your senior research project. Your excitement was almost palpable each time you thought about the word. Every late night you had spent pouring over books—and every early morning you had spent examining plants instead of sleeping—was all going to be worth it. 
A degree from Yale would open so many doors you never thought available to you. Graduate schools, research labs, publications; a world of academia, all within your grasp. You just had to finish this last year of undergrad and get through your project. Eight months at most. 
You made your way to your notebook across the greenhouse, ducking beneath greenery and sidestepping planters as you went. There were about one too many broken watering cans in this specific house, along with more cobwebs than you could count, but you were grateful for any space at all. Being on a scholarship meant you expected less, even when your professors profusely argued against such a notion. 
The stool groaned as you took your place at the rickety table, pushing yourself in until it was more comfortable to write your notes. Your pencil was in dire need of a sharpening, and you almost wished you had brought your computer instead of the paper that was wilting in the sticky air of the greenhouse. Unfortunately, that was never an option; Professor Potts had made it abundantly clear that field notes were to be handwritten. 
A gentle spray started up in the corner of the room, water raining down on the plants as you placed the end of the pencil between your teeth. There wasn’t too much information for you to graph just yet; the project had just been approved a few weeks ago, and your plants were still sprouting up. Still, you took careful notice of each little change, not wanting to waste any of the resources you had been allotted. 
“So, uh,” a voice drawled, an awkward inflection in its tone. “You just want me to stand here, or…?” 
You raised your eyes from your notebook to instead glare at the wall your table was pushed up against, your peace interrupted for the second time today. Your jaw clicked as you fought to keep it relaxed, a battle you were surely going to lose as the morning progressed. 
“‘Cause I can’t really leave unless you give me something to do out there. Rules of community service and all. They have people making sure I spend my hours in here.” 
You sighed, finally looking over your shoulder at the man leaning against a table he shouldn’t be. “You can stay over there,” you concluded. “Just don’t… touch anything.” 
“Right,” he agreed, crossing his arms and kicking away from the table. 
His pressed shirt didn’t exactly fit in with the nature of the greenhouse, and it was certainly a contrast to your loose hoodie with the college emblem stamped on the front. You took note of his blinding white collar and decided that if he walked out of here without any dirt on it, he would be a lucky guy. That thought was fleeting; you had turned back to your notebook almost as soon as he settled against a wall. 
You were about halfway into your diagram when the man in the dress shirt spoke again. “It’s hot in here.” 
“It’s a greenhouse,” you deadpanned. 
“Greenhouses have a reputation for being hot?” 
You tapped your pencil against stiff paper, still not turning as you hummed and simply replied, “Typically.” 
The man mumbled something incoherent in response, apparently deciding that walking around the rows of plants was a better way to spend his time. You glanced at him from the corner of your eye, biting the inside of your cheek when he rubbed a leaf between his fingers. It wasn’t your plant, technically, so no harm done—for now. You couldn’t say the same for his shoes; the shiny leather had surely been scuffed from the amount of times he had ran into old wood. 
You were still cursing Pepper Potts for agreeing to whatever this was. She had approached you with so much hesitancy the other day, an apology already on her lips that you assured her wasn’t necessary. But you were second guessing that as time went on… maybe you did deserve an apology when James Barnes was the one being forced upon you. 
Your professor had left out that small detail. 
To be fair, the detail had very little impact on your life. You had never met the guy before today, and it wasn’t as if he had done anything to you personally. But he was very clearly a Barnes, a name that was also displayed on the main campus library and probably stamped on quite a few “donated” collections. 
It would’ve been nice to know that it was a Yale legacy student serving community service in your greenhouse—not just some random guy with a penchant for misdemeanors. 
“Which plants are you in charge of?” he asked, running his hand under the gentle spray of water still going strong in the corner.
You furrowed your brows. “This isn’t some community garden. I’m not taking care of these plants, I’m studying them.” 
He made a slow approach to your table, stuffing his hands in expensive pockets. “Okay. Which plants are you in charge of studying?” 
“Why? Are you planning on defacing them?”
He scoffed, knocking his head back as if your statement was completely uncalled for. It wasn’t, of course. You had seen the proof of that yourself, the large, egregious pictures spray painted along the bricks of the Marsh Botanical Garden still only partially scrubbed off by the janitor. 
“Come on,” James argued. “That was funny. And you don’t even know why I did it.” 
You met his cocky smile with an uninterested expression. “I don’t think motive is going to help me find beauty in the dick you drew over the daisies.” 
“I get your favorite flowers or something? My bad, I’ll make it up to you,” he winked. 
“No need.” 
“Hey, I can buy you some daisies. I’m good for it.” 
You huffed, trying to decide whether or not that was a joke. Of course he was good for a few daisies—he probably had the means to sell out an entire flower shop, pre-made wedding centerpieces and all. And that would barely make a dent in his bank account. 
You pushed away from the desk instead of answering him, heading for the small shed by the entrance of the greenhouse. You yanked the doors open with a loud creak, procured another worn stool from the inside, and then set the seat in a corner very far from your desk. The slap you forced down on the stool’s surface echoed. 
“For you,” you explained, jutting your hand out in its direction. “Go on your phone or something.” 
He raised a brow at you, a small puff of laughter escaping him. He meandered to your designated location at an unhurried pace and nodded when you offered him a sardonic smile.  With a purposeful tug at the material of his pants, he took a seat, and you were back at your desk feeling more satisfied. 
Professor Potts had instructed you to put him to work the second he arrived. Sweeping, tossing old materials, dragging in soil; Barnes was supposed to be a garden hand to atone for his campus crimes, but in all honesty, you preferred him sitting in the corner on his phone. 
You figured he would prefer that as well, but the guy wouldn’t stop talking. 
“So you gonna tell me your name, Ms. Daisy?” he asked, after only a few minutes of blessed silence. “I have to be here every weekday for quite a while. Might be nice to know who you are.” He paused. When your silence persisted, he followed up with, “Unless you like daisy. ‘Could just call you that.” 
“It’s y/n,” you corrected. 
You could hear the smile in his words as he responded. “Okay, y/n. I’m—” 
“I know who you are. They gave me the rundown when they explained your community service,” you lied. He didn’t need to know that you had actually been blindsided when he walked in this morning. 
“Enlighten me then.” 
You almost choked on the confidence in his tone. “Is this some kind of power trip? You like to hear the sound of your own name, James?” 
His brows shot up in response, leaning his chest over his knees as he smirked at you from across the room. “Not sure why you’d assume I want a power trip.” 
If you could glower any harder, you would. Was it really so much to ask for a peaceful last year of college? Did the universe have to chose you to entertain the millionaire with a criminal streak when all you really wanted was to graduate? James started bouncing his knee, making the floor groan as he stared back at you, and you concluded that yes—the universe did in fact chose you for this fate. 
“Maybe because it’s eleven a.m. on a Tuesday and you look dressed for prom?” you shot back. 
He laughed. Throwing his head back with his shoulders shaking, he laughed and you were left confused because you were positive that you had just insulted him. Then again, you weren’t really sure what was considered an insult to someone with an endless stream of money. Maybe he wanted to look like he was going to prom. 
“You’re pretty funny, you know that?” he chuckled, the whispers of humor still fresh in his voice. 
“Thanks,” you accepted, a monotone grumble. 
You slid your phone from your pocket, praying that your allotted time with James was over and not attempting to be subtle about it. Luckily, the clock confirmed that he was actually set to leave three minutes ago, a small swell of joy rising in your chest. 
You shook your phone up by your face. “Eleven thirty-three,” you called. “You’re free to go.” 
Your happiness was not well met. James paused and gave you an uncharacteristically—from what you could discern in the few hours you’d know him—dubious look, standing from his seat and pulling a folded up piece of paper from his back pocket. He took a deep breath in before laying it flat on your table and letting his fingers linger. The mint from the gum he hadn’t stopped chewing fanned past you and hit unfinished plywood. 
“I know I didn’t really do anything,” he began. “But you gotta sign off on my time here—so I can take it back to the board and all.” 
“Okay,” you simply agreed, turning your pencil to the new sheet.
“You really aren’t gonna make me clean this place up?” His head titled down to catch the gaze you weren’t offering
“You’re free to clean up if you feel so inclined, but really, staying out of my way will get this paper signed.” 
“And you don’t… want anything from me?” 
You glanced at him from the corner of your eye before refolding the paper and placing it in his unexpecting hand. His expression was cautious, maybe even a bit untrusting with the way his mouth was twisted into a small frown. You knew what he was implying, but you weren’t going to acknowledge the elephant in the room if you could help it. 
The spray in the back of the house stopped. James shifted and the floor groaned. 
“Like what? A pocket square?”
James shook his head, face relaxing, and placed his palm on your table to bend down and loom over your seated posture, requesting a quick, “Hey, call me Bucky, yeah? James is my father.” 
“Whatever,” you called, waving him off before you could process the gentle heat of him on your back. 
Bucky’s chuckle lasted well past his exit, the sound only ceasing as he complained, “This door is broken.” 
You rolled your eyes, not turning to confirm when the heavy wood slammed behind him. 
“I was thinking it had something to do with the soil, but when I brought that up to Professor Stark he told me to shut up.” 
“Peter, I don’t know why you even try with him. I keep telling you to go to the TA first.” 
Peter sighed, dejectedly picking at the salad wilting in its plastic container. He had been fighting with it after about the second bite, turning the leaves over as he complained about his final project. 
“It’s not fair that you got his wife as an advisor,” Peter accused, a finger pointed at you as you ate your own lunch. “She gets the job done and she thinks you’re amazing. Dr. Stark just thinks I’m an idiot on legs.” 
“Hey, come on!” you argued. “If he thought you were an idiot on legs he wouldn’t have accepted your proposal in the first place. And he gave you the best greenhouse on campus. Dr. Potts is nice, but I’m still stuck out there with all the spiders.” 
Peter huffed out a laugh, the sound lost in the noise of the dining hall. You were immune to the disruptions at this point; three years of lunches with Peter Parker and you were more than capable of picking his voice out in a crowd, dining hall or otherwise. 
The first time you had done so was in a packed lecture hall freshman year. The poor guy didn’t have a pencil in one of Stark’s lectures and he had asked just about everyone in his row. You saved him from the fearful task of asking the professor himself, tapping on his shoulder and, apparently, also becoming friends. 
It was luck that you happened to be in the same department as well. 
“That reminds me,” Peter said over a mouthful of croutons. “How’d your thing go with the criminal. Did he get those spiders out?” 
You laughed, setting down the coffee you had grabbed on the walk over. “He’s not a criminal, Pete. I told you it was just vandalism.” 
“Vandalism is a crime,” he pointed out, gesturing with his fork. 
“Okay, well it’s not a hard crime. I think labeling him as a criminal might be a bit premature. Not that a permanent record would have any real effect on his life, honestly.” 
“What d’you mean?” 
You gave Peter a blank look, urging him to swallow his food before you continued. There definitely wasn’t a lack of comfort between the two of you, if the mouthful of lettuce accompanying his words gave anything away. He offered you a sheepish grin and reached for his water, motioning for you to explain yourself. 
“I mean that the criminal is James Barnes. You know, like Barnes and Rogers’ Library? I seriously doubt a label like that would hurt his life prospects.” 
Peter choked on his water and you found yourself wishing he was still talking with his mouth full instead. You reached for the napkins on his tray, shoving them in his direction as he fought for air. He looked like a fish out of water and all you could do was cringe as the table next to you grimaced in disgust. It wasn’t until he recapped the bottle that you spoke again. 
“Are you going to live?” 
Peter hit his chest a few times before nodding with vigor. “Fine, yeah,” he squeaked out. “Are you sure it was him?” 
You threw him a look. “Do you think I’m an idiot on legs or something?” 
“No! No, of course not. Just, wow, a Barnes doing community service. Wouldn’t really expect that.” 
You hadn’t either. With the reputation that came with his name, you were surprised that his family hadn’t just made the problem go away with another big “donation” toward the library. Or the science department. Or just about any place that would have gotten him out of trouble.
You had seen it happen before. Last year, all the trees and bushes in front of the literature building were covered in paint and toilet paper during finals week. It was cleaned up rather quickly, and then—like clockwork—the Yale Newspaper reported a very sizable donation made toward the college’s book collection. An anonymous donation. 
Very discrete. 
Your shrugged at your friend, rolling your straw between the pieces of ice in your cup. “Maybe he was feeling generous.” 
“Yeah, sure,” Peter scoffed. “Look, I think you should stay away from him, y/n. I’ve heard… things and stuff.” 
“Things and stuff? Wow, Peter, why didn’t you tell me sooner? I’ll make sure to bring pepper spray next time I see him.” Peter clicked his tongue and gave you an exasperated look, leaning back in his chair with his arms crossed. You sighed, “Okay, okay. Sorry. Please, explain.” 
“It’s just—you know who he is. I don’t think you should try to be buddies with this guy or anything. Seems to make a lot of trouble at a school he didn’t really get into on his own merit. And I'm pretty sure he’s like engaged or something? Maybe, I don’t remember all of what Ned said...” 
For some strange, unknown reason—completely unfathomable—a tiny part of you deflated as Peter continued his rant. It certainly wasn’t because of the engagement; that would be certifiably insane. 
Bucky was entitled and probably only in college because his family made him go. He probably spent his days in some fancy apartment down the road and only came to campus when he felt like spray painting over the ecology department. He most likely had stupid handkerchiefs in his pockets and got his pants dry cleaned and said said things like oh, I’m going to have a nice game of golf this morning. 
He didn’t have the passion you did, and he certainly didn’t have the drive. It didn’t matter that he smelled like a fresh bonfire and the woods when you went camping in the winter. His stupid fluffy hair didn’t make up for his lack of common sense and his glinting blue eyes definitely didn’t make you want to blink up at him and fall into his words each time he spoke. 
His smile was just… average; it didn’t make your heart skip a beat at all, even when he called you daisy and came up behind you to make you sign that stupid paper. 
Maybe you were just feeling a bit morose because Peter was lecturing you again. Yes—that was it. “Peter! Peter, hey, I get it,” you cut him off, not even sure which part of his argument he had dove into as you let your mind wander. “It’s not like I’m hanging out with the guy on purpose. I’m not even making him clean anything. He just sits on his phone for a few hours and then he leaves, alright?” 
But Peter looked disgruntled at that prospect as well. “I think you should have him doing something, y/n. He’s supposed to be in trouble.” 
“Do you have a vendetta against this guy or something?” 
Peter blanched, clearing his throat and uttering out a few too many arguments for it to be believable. Your best friend was many things, but a good liar was not one of them. You arched a brow in his direction, trying to pull the truth from him, but Peter just kept babbling on about nonsense. Which was fine, you supposed; he could have secrets and so could you. 
Your secrets just involved maybe finding Bucky Barnes attractive. Maybe. On a physical level only.
You checked your phone when Peter pretending to drink his water, the only interesting notification being a message from your roommate asking you to bring pizza home for dinner. Which probably meant Natasha was coming over as well. That would be the perfect opportunity to tell both Wanda and Natasha about your new greenhouse development, and you wouldn’t even have to use the groupchat. 
You sent her a quick confirmation text and heaved yourself up from the table, Peter following closely behind. 
“You wanna come over for pizza tonight? You can tell the girls how much you hate Bucky Barnes,” you offered, tossing your empty cup in the garbage. 
“What’d you call him?” Peter asked, tightening the straps of his backpack and scrunching his face up in confusion. 
You mentally cursed, forcing out a fake laugh and linking your arm with Peter’s. The air past the dining hall doors was a brisk sunniness, a hint of summer still lingering in the fall air. You breathed in the faint aroma of the grass in the courtyard and the hint of pine from the tree that hung over the benches on the far side of campus, but Peter was unimpressed with your minuscule attempt at a diversion. He craned his neck to block your view of the yard, raising his brow in expectation. 
You nudged him. “Nothing, Pete. You wanna come or what? Better tell me now or I’m not going to know to pick up your favorite.” 
“Okay, yes,” he groaned, pulling you toward your next class. “But if you think we’re not gonna talk about this tonight, you’re wrong. I’m going to have a very serious discussion with Wanda and Natasha.” 
“Okay, Mr. Serious,” you rolled your eyes. 
Peter got wine drunk that night, which meant there was, in fact, no serious discussion. 
687 notes · View notes
fantastiqueali · 4 months ago
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Summary: Your mother is getting married but the man she was about to get wedded to is your former sugar daddy.
Paring: Former Sugar daddy and Stepdad!Bucky Barnes x stepdaughter!Reader
Part 1, (Part 2 in progress)
Warning: 18+, Minors dni!, D.S. Dynamic, P in V, Stepcest, Fingering, Oral (female receiving) Dominant!Bucky, Daddy kink, Degradation, Spit kink, Spanking, Overstimulation, Bulge kink, Little to no aftercare, Age-gap (Reader is of age), Creampie, Hair pulling, Choking, Slight Dub-Con, Unprotected sex, Cheating, and Pet names.
Word count: 3.9k
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Anticipating the tears of your mother who you are seated in front of, standing still like a queen about to serve her purpose with his king beside him.
You wouldn’t think of it like that. Not even one bit. Your facade of being happy and excited about your mother’s engagement party pushes aside the feeling of outrage clinging inside of you.
Never had you been so apathetic toward your mother’s happiness until now. Watched as the crowd petitioned for them to kiss. You wished you were never there in the first place but as the role of a daughter, you need to.
You watch as his hand snakes around her waist, securing it like she’s the only one for him and there was never you in the picture. James Buchanan Barnes or much better known as Bucky Barnes. You and he went way back in time. Signed up to be his personal sugar baby, and got everything you want, when things fell apart you signed out of the contract.
He never agreed for you to sign out that quickly. It was months before he had finally agreed. But of course, everything comes with a price with him and you just yet to know that this. You never wanted your mother associated with this. But he just had to, didn't he? He had to drag your mother into this obscured hole and make her suffer in the end. 
You tried to talk to your mother about how vile he is but she didn’t believe you and told you that you need to accept the fact that she and he would be together now. Yet how can you accept when the day that your mother had introduced you to him he had been bugging you whenever she wasn’t looking.
Forcefully pulling you near him when it’s just you two because he misses you. The way that he looks at your mother lovingly whilst his hand is on your thigh makes you sick. His twisted words being whispered to your ear makes you want to vomit as you watch him “love” your mother. You had to endure the thought that your mother will hate you in the end if she finds out. 
“I would like to call my daughter who planned this party along with me and Bucky.” You were pulled out of your thoughts as you see your mother and Bucky staring right at you smiling. You passed eye contact with the both of them before you stand up, a smile conveying that you were just not thinking of how this marriage would be a fucking disaster.
Stepping up on the stage beside your mother and ignoring the little smirk Bucky had given you, the host handed you a microphone. “Thank you, Y/N,” your mother started. “For making this dream come true.” Your eyes twitched, still smiling with a thought in your head I’m sorry.
“Thank you, for supporting me and Bucky.”
You wanted to scream. You wanted to tell her and everyone in this room that you don’t. That she should ditch this bastard and fucking kick him in the balls. You only wished to yell and scream that she shouldn’t be with this man at all.
“I know we had problems at first but with communicating we went through it.”
Your head was spinning around with thoughts. Screaming that you should be on your fucking knees begging for forgiveness after telling her the truth. Apologising a million times as she slaps you across the face and yells at you for how much of a traitor you are. That she’s disgusted that you’re her daughter. She has every right to do so. You thought.
Awes and applauds were heard throughout the room. You were shoved out of your cloud once again by the feeling of your mother’s embrace. A tear almost spilt out as you returned her embrace. Pushing your head onto your mother’s neck like you used to do when you were younger. 
She pulled away, holding your shoulder, a resting smile plastered on her face. “Thank you,” she whispered, leaning on your forehead. Tears finally tumbled through your eyes as you held her hands that caressed your face. “I love you.” You wanted to say sorry so bad. But there’s a pull stopping you. Regret? Sympathy? Fear? Or a mix of those?
“Look at the mother and daughter duo! Such a lovely sight to see.” You and your mother pulled away, hearing the host’s voice thumping through the speaker. You wiped your tears as your mother chuckled. Glancing to your right, was Bucky standing there unfazed by the moment until the host picked his attention.
“Mr Barnes you must adore this mother and daughter relationship so far.” Turning to the man, he gave a small smile and then pushed your mother closer to him by the waist, gazing at her adoringly. Then he looks up at you. You wanted to punch that invisible smirk that lays on his face. “Of course, I’ve wanted a family, long ago. Yet I was never given a chance.”
Your hands flinched at his words. You wanted to leave. You wanted to run into the restroom and vomit. This is making you want to cut your head off. Not listen to everything his mouth has to say. “But now, I could take the chance to be a part of this lovely family.”
That was your last strike, you went ahead and made a run for the restroom. Not minding the worried call of your mother or her friends. She was about to go and see if you were alright but got stopped by a woman calling out for her name. “Miss L/N sorry to interrupt but the boss calls for you and says it's important.” 
Before she can utter a decline, Bucky stops her. “Honey, you should go. I’ll check on her.” She hesitated. But the thing is, she trusts Bucky enough to let him handle the situation. And that is something that she should cut away.
She nodded, pulling Bucky in for a hug as her gratitude. He wanted to roll his eyes for the least of not pushing her away, but someone is watching them. The girl in front of them is awed in adoration for the “love” that they both are showing. Bucky then pulls away, holding her by her shoulder. “Go, it must be something important.” He kisses her forehead with an artificial smile. She muttered another thank you before fully getting pulled by her Secretary.
Throwing the facade away, he turns to go and looks for someone that he has to make an effort. Everything. All of this is for her. Call it an obsession and infatuation but he needs her in his life. Everything was supposed to be perfect about him and you. On that day that you broke the contract between you, he was supposed to be on his knees, with an F/N ring box opened and a diamond ring sitting perfectly inside it as he asked you to be his girlfriend.
But no, you just have to ruin the surprise, don’t you? He begged you, he told you not to do what you just did yet here you are standing on your own feet telling him that it is for the better. It was never for the better on his side. 
So yes, he has to go through all of this just for you. He doesn’t care if he hurts someone along the way, that being someone dear to you. However, he just doesn’t care. He wants you and what he wants always gets wrapped up around his fingers.
You were crying in the bathroom, the door locked as you feared someone would barge in. He will barge in. You were a mess. Tears scribbling down your face along with the mascara that you bought for this party, sobs that make you breathless, trying to calm your face down with some water,  ruining your makeup more. But at this point, you don’t care. You want to go home. You want to lay in your bed and be in misery of how you let your mother be engaged to that man. How you shove it in your mind that it’s your fault to be even associated with that man.
It was only your cries and the water running can be heard. Until you hear the knocking door. You paced yourself into taking deep breaths in, trying to make yourself sound like you never cried before saying “Who is it?” No one answered. So you let them be, hoping that they just went away. As your legs are giving up on you already, you let them take over and drop to the floor. Then the door suddenly flew open. 
You aborted and stood up instantly. Therefore the opened door shows someone who you would not want to see right now, not ever. “How in the hell-” your broken voice got cut off. “I have access to keys everywhere. You know that.” 
Groans fell from your lips. You should have known that. You knew that you could have just left the party already. As you are about to step out and leave, he shuts the door and locks it, not even getting a chance to say anything before he lifts you by the waist and sets you on the counter. He held your mouth close, covered by his big and veiny hands. 
“Listen,” he says. “You can stop all of this.” You were being held against moving or talking on your own. “You can leave with me. Be with me in another country. Leave this goddamn bullshit of life and be with me. Let everyone forget us. Choose this and all of this will stop. If you don't, well we have to go the long way now do we? So it’s in your hands to either make everything easier for all of us.”
You stopped squirming for a while from the tiredness and the fact that you can’t get out of his grip. He uncovered your mouth to let you speak but locked you in with his body so that you can’t go anywhere. You stared at him for a moment to see how mad he can be. Well, it was answered instantly. So mad.
Regardless of how you wanted your mother not to suffer, even though for sure if you left with him she will. You pledged to yourself to never walk in life with this man by your side. You spilt the words “No” sternly, pushing him away. As you were about to come down from the counter, he pushed you again, holding a tight clasp of your shoulders. “I should’ve known,” he smirks, that devilish smirk that is always his default. “You always wanted it the hard way.”
He pulls on your hair, causing a mewl to come out of you. He stared down at your throat like it was his meal and he has been starving for weeks. He watches carefully as he pulls your hair down more, your cleavage being pushed upon him. With his other hand, he pulls you more in him. Placing himself in between your legs as he likes it to be. 
Lowering his head down, he attacks your sweet soft skin, leaving traces everywhere his lips go. Your hands battled to push him away but it was no use as he latched them behind you with one hand. He continues to starve for your chin, to your neck then to your collarbone where you flawlessly sat there ready for him as always. 
The one holding your hair down pulled away as it grappled with one of your breasts and a soft groan was taken out of you. He trailed down to your cleavage, the hold on your wrists getting tighter and tighter as you tried to unrestraint them. He pulls away, staring at the masterpiece that he made by sucking on your cold skin. “S’perfect,” he groans, tearing your dress away from your body.
You gasped from the sudden coldness. He grabs your breasts again. He grumbled, frustrated at how there’s still something covering your precious breasts. His hand ripped your bra away from you and threw it somewhere in the room. You yelled at him, but it didn’t last long as you got interrupted by your very own moans from the way that Bucky gives your already hardened nipples a kitten lick as he watches the way that your face contorts. 
His eyes glare right inside your soul as he does his magic with his tongue. The way that he fully takes in your nipples in his mouth, sucking on them for dear life. Watching you tremble in lack of want but need. Knowing that you finally calmed down he lets your hands go free. Not far enough, his other hand roamed around your body as it settled down on your thigh. His hand going up and down, daring your dress to move upwards to show more of your inner thigh. 
Your breath hitched when he harshly cupped your clothed cunt, hardly gasping for air as he rubs your folds with his index finger. “Tell me to stop and I’ll fucking stop,” he murmurs into your ear, shivering from his cold breath that hits your neck. With your panties still guarding your mound with his finger, he pushes his finger in, a small moan leaving your lips as the harsh cloth of the fabric comes in contact with your walls. 
You want to tell him to stop. That this is wrong. But god do you miss this. The overwhelming feeling of both his finger and his kisses on your naked shoulder. He’s getting married to your mom but that doesn’t seem to help the situation you are in.
“Yah Don't want to, right? Y’want me, admit it. M’not the only one suffering all these months.” You whimpered as he pulled away, a smirk being evident on his face. He ripped your panties and threw them to god knows where along with the remains of your dress. The worry of having to go home naked was pushed aside and he slowly kneels in front of you. 
You shouldn’t want this. But help everyone, you need this. He pushes your legs away from each other more as he comes face to face with your cunt. Bucky moves his arms below your thighs and pushes them closer to him. “Such perfect little pussy. Tight and all wet for its daddy.” You inhaled deeply when he went in for your sloppy cunt. His tongue overlapped in every corner that he could take. Slushy noises echoed throughout the restroom as you covered your mouth with your eyes rolling back in your head.
His finger went in contact with your folds once again, spreading your juices out to make you seem messier. Bucky smirked devilishly when he saw you throwing your head back by just putting one of his fingers in. His tongue moves to your bud, licking the red and sensitive nub over time as his finger mercilessly thrust in you.
Countlessly plunging into your slopping cunt, he added another finger. It makes you jolt over back to the mirror behind you. Coming into contact with the mirror only pleases you more down there accidentally. “Miss this,” he groans. “I miss this pussy s’much. I miss your juices, baby. Daddy misses them so much.” A choked scream cuts him off when he adds a third finger to you, slamming them in and out of you without giving you time to breathe.
“Think you can give daddy what he wants, hmm?” His hum went straight into your cunt, a tight knot you felt being tangled. “Give daddy a taste of his favourite?” He continues to shove his fingers in you as you arched your back over the counter.
A high pitched moan surrounds the room as you feel yourself gush over his fingers. A sensational feeling takes over your body as he goes on to penetrate you with his fingers, cleaning you out by sucking your white sticky juices with his tongue. His groans as he sucks you dry didn’t help the dominating ecstasy coursing throughout your body.
Bucky did not stop until he knew he got the last drop and you were shaking from being sensitive. When he pulled away, his hair was already all over the place, a little cum dripping from the side of his chin. He swipes it with his thumb and sucks on it whilst he is staring back at your eyes.
He drops down to your barely shaking body and kisses your forehead. “S’good right?” He growls when a minute later you don't answer. You were ignoring him. He fisted your hair and yanked it harshly, watching as you hisses in pain. “You never learn, do you? Ungrateful brat,” he spat, grabbing your chin and opening your mouth. 
He degrades you in a way of spitting straight into your mouth. Your legs quivered as you started to cream again down there, his demeaning move startling your body.  “Gave you a chance to be treated like a fucking princess.” He slams his hand down on your thigh which causes a pitched noise reverberating around the golden lighted restroom. 
“Want to act like a bitch, then you get treated like a bitch.” 
“So if you act like an asshole I’ll treat you like an asshole.” 
His eyebrows irk at your response. You glared at him, knowing fully that he hates it when you talk back. He pulls you by the back of your neck, pulling you off the counter and turning you around to face the mirror. You’re a mess. His fucking mess.
“Getting brave now, are we? Such a mouth for a slut huh?” You heard him unbuckling his belt and pants as his other hand still pulls on your hair. “I’m the slut? Who’s the one begging me to stay with him? Who’s the one asking for sex with the daughter of his fiancé?” 
A loud gasp cuts you off from continuing the mockery. His hand left a red-hued mark on your ass. “S’not like your fault?” He pushes your head down on the cold counter where you sat earlier. Kneading your ass as he spanks you one more time before he grabs his cock in his hand and spreads the precum leaving his tip. “Going out in dresses like these. Running around the house with shorts as if you were teasing me.” A wild moan left your lips when he thrusts into you hard and in one go. 
He didn’t let you get used to his size as he thinks that you don’t deserve it and has been a bitch ever since. He crashes his hips into you, not giving a fuck if anyone was standing right outside the door and listening. He holds a grip on your waist, using it to slam your body down on him. 
You were a crying mess. You never knew that he could grow much bigger than in the last months. His girth drags heavily into your walls and the tip of his cock reaches that sweet spot that he memorises making you moan louder than you want it to be.
He pulls you up to his body by the arm, his right arm embracing your waist as the other finds its way up to your throat, choking you along the way. “Look at yourself,” he says, staring at the reflection of the both of you.
“Made perfectly to take my cock so well.” Your eyes drifted in front of you to see an erotic scene getting made by the two of you. You wanted to think how your mother would react if she saw this. But you were pushed so hard into oblivion that you don’t care as of now. Heavy gasps left your lips when you felt him push on your lower stomach where his bulge keeps showing.
“You like that don’t you? You like it when I push down here.” He pushes on it once again, throwing your head back to rest it on his shoulder. “Like it when I touch my cock from inside of you.” He thrusts his length so hard that it pushes more on your stomach, exhibiting a huge bulge laying there. 
Tears started to spill from your eyes from the irresistible pleasure that his cock brings and from the betrayal that you gave your mother. Of how your mother must be crying over the happiness that she will get married whilst you’re in a public restroom, getting manhandled by his soon to be husband.
“Such a perfect whore for daddy’s cock- fuck. A perfect masterpiece for me to use whenever I want to. And no one- oh shit. Get to have you like this.” 
Bucky fully pulls out before slamming back into you, causing you to scream out in pleasure. “You’re squeezing me, darling.”
“Please, please, please, please!”
He laughs at your pathetic pleads for the upcoming orgasm. He knows he should be punishing you right now but can’t help but miss the way that your walls tightened around him, signalling him that you’re close.
“Go on, do it. Let go f’me you cumdump of a slut. Show me how much you missed me.”
An erotic scream flew by your lips as he continues to slam his cock further into you. The jailed up spasm in your stomach is finally set free and bursts on his still moving dick. He moans, dropping his head on your shoulder, trying to chase your orgasm.
Your body shakes at the feeling of sensitivity but as Bucky states, he doesn’t care. He’ll do as he pleases and that’s to have himself cum in you.
“I’m going to fill you up so bad.”
As he says that, a groan was heard from him and another moan left you as he cascaded his streams of seeds into you. The warm feeling of his cum flooded your walls as he stayed still for a few moments. When he finally decided to pull out, you whimpered at the loss of his touch but whined at the trickling mix of cum leaving your cunt.
Bucky turned you around, sitting you down once again on the counter. Both are relentless for breath, he leans his forehead with yours as his breath hits your nose. He tucks the hair that was falling on your face behind your ear. He holds your face dearly with both of his hands and kisses your head lovingly.
“Don’t think that this will be the last.”
He lets you lean forward to him, stroking your head dearly as tears finally burst out of your eyes. You regretted this. You feel sorry for your mom. You want to just kill the man in front of you and then kill yourself. You feel remorseful for doing this. For letting him do this.
Bucky wasn’t. He only cared about you. Whether it’s a family or not, he doesn’t care. He wants you and he gets what he wants. No matter what road he has to take.
“It’ll all be easier if you just accept. Yet you want it the other way around.” He jerks away and faces you to see him. Eyes red from crying and face blank from not feeling anything but guilt. 
“Sorry honey, two can play at this game.”
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╰┈➤ Taglist | Requests
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lovelybarnes · 5 months ago
you- b. barnes
pairings: bucky barnes x reader warnings: mutual pining, a littleeee angst about: request by the sweetest @lovelyrdjr , best friends to lovers
“bucky,” you sing as you enter your best friend’s room. he says your name back with a glance before looking back down at the book he’s reading—one of the ones you recommended—and drones distractedly. “guess what?”
he hums again, resisting the urge to look back up at you and the little butterfly clips pulling strands of your hair back. he recognizes them as the ones he gave you for your birthday last year. 
“bucky,” you whine when he doesn’t pay attention to you, poking his shoulder repeatedly. he holds back a smile, continuing to pretend to ignore you even though he hasn’t been able to concentrate on his book since the moment your perfume filled up the space of his room. you drag out his name again, climbing on his bed and dramatically draping yourself over him.
“yeah, sweetheart?” he responds, not taking his eyes off of his book but letting a hand fall on your shoulder, rubbing circles into your skin.
“i have news,” you inform, propping your chin on his chest.
“what’s your news?” he asks, sparing you a glance that he forces not to last long.
“well, you have to be paying attention to me to tell you.” you pout, tugging at his shirt.
“‘m paying attention.”
“no, you’re not.” you sigh exaggeratedly, dropping your cheek on his shirt. “and, as a punishment, you won’t get cake and sam will be my fiancé.”
that catches his attention, and bucky puts down his book, dog-earing the page he was on even though he doesn’t like doing it. you’re a horrible influence. “what?”
he feels you grin against his shirt, nuzzling your face deeper as you shrug innocently. “guess what opened today?”
“what do you mean sam is going to be your fiance?” bucky questions instead.
“the answer to my question will answer all of yours,” you reply cryptically, meeting his eye. you bounce lightly in petulance. “guess!”
bucky sighs. “the bakery?”
“close.” you grin, biting your lip.
“the… cake store?”
you nod excitedly. “and guess what they sell?”
bucky shrugs. “cakes?”
“yes, but what specific cakes?”
“this is a lot more than that question you said would give me answers, and i still don’t have any,” bucky complains.
“wedding cakes! and they give free samples to couples that are ‘to be wed,’” you quote the words with a goofy accent, beginning to tug his arm. “they look really good and i want something sweet and i already told the woman working there i was about to get married and would bring my fiancé back so we could try some cakes.”
bucky nods slowly, watching you bite on a nail at your confession. “are you asking me to marry you?”
you roll your eyes, pushing at his shoulder. “you know what i’m asking.”
“i think i’ll need a proposal for this,” bucky declares. “it is the custom.”
you glare at him for a moment before exhaling softly. “will you marry me?”
“that’s how you’re gonna propose?” bucky accuses, making you laugh as your head drops to his chest. shaking your head, you get off of him and drop to your knee.
“james bucket barnacles,” you begin dramatically, offering him your hand. “will you marry me and be my fiancé for an hour so i can eat cake?”
bucky pretends to think for a moment before bursting into a grin, pulling you to him. “yes, a million times yes!” he presses sloppy kisses to your face, making you laugh as you try to push him away.
“save that for the cake shop,” you recommend.
bucky is not proud of his triumph when people think you and him are dating. he’s never minded, and you’ve never said anything to him or to the strangers that compliment on your nonexistent relationship, shrugging it away with the fact that you will never see them again and find it useless to explain to them the nature of your relationship.
when he falls asleep with his head laying on your lap, your fingers combing through his hair, or when you smile at him in that soft way you only do to him, he catches himself believing that you don’t correct anyone for the same reason he doesn’t—not because it does not matter what unknown others think, but because you’re in love with him too.
when you ask him to pretend to be your fiancé, he revels in the fact that he won’t have to bite back his pride or hold back the ridiculous urge to thread his fingers through yours and wrap an arm around your waist. maybe he goes a little overboard, but he’ll insist it was for the role if you question it—which you don’t—and he’d kick himself if he didn’t take full advantage of the opportunity.
he’s buzzing from your touch already as you enter the shop, warmed further when you lean your head against his shoulder nonchalantly, sending you an amused look when the woman behind the register asks you if he’s “the bucky.”
he can’t help the pleasant feeling at the bottom of his stomach when you agree easily, squeezing his hand. “yeah, he’s my bucky—my fiancé.”
the woman coos at the both of you, commenting on how great you look together.
“it’s thanks to her,” bucky shrugs, genty bumping you with his shoulder. “i mean, look at how pretty she is.”
your skin heats enough for him to feel it through his shirt, making him grin and press a kiss to your forehead just because he can.
“oh, you two remind me of my husband and i,” the woman reveals earnestly. “we’ve been in love for forty-eight years. since the moment we met.”
“i know the feeling,” bucky murmurs, glancing at you to see your eyes already on him, caught on the startling honesty of his features until you snap yourself out of it, settling a smile on your lips.
“me too,” you agree quietly, toeing on the edge of too convincing.
“i’m so glad you were honest about this. do you know how many people pretend to be together to try cake?” the woman asks incredulously, shaking her head as she collects cake. bucky and you exchange a look. “so much so that i can tell if the couple is actually in love the minute they walk in here.”
“wow, that must be a frequent problem, then,” you mumble, biting your lip.
“yes,” the woman says. “but, luckily, no one can fake love once i’ve seen it enough.”
“some—some might…” you begin, her words getting the better of you, but she stares straight at you and wags her finger.
“oh no. not the real one. the one that’ll last. like yours.”
“oh,” you whisper softly, allowing yourself just one moment of believing her as your eyes meet bucky’s.
bucky doesn’t like to think about love.
he doesn’t like to talk about it—his love for you or, really, any of his love at all—since, by some means, love always goes back to you, leaving him in a panic because the platonic way he is supposed to love you is not so platonic at all, and he is left remembering that he has fallen in love with his best friend.
as terrified as he is of you finding out and putting your friendship at risk, he aches to tell you, to read the confessions that play in his mind when he’s around you out loud and simply attach them to a blank face instead of you, but you know him too well. as trained as he is, you’ve always seemed to be able to read his mind—and he yours—and you would figure out he was lying about his faceless girl, so he chooses to push it away and ignore it.
he leaves questions he has for himself unanswered through the fear that he’ll figure them out in a realization that he can’t hold it in anymore, that he has to risk the friendship because he can’t live as if he hasn’t completely fallen for you.
if you’ve noticed, you don’t bring it up, and he isn’t sure if he’s glad or upset about it since he can do the exact same thing to you.
he’s trying not to think about it now as pretends to concentrate on the show you’ve put on. it’s one of the comedies you love so much, and you’re completely immersed in the scene, pulling at his arm excitedly. one of the main characters is rushing to tell one of the others she’s in love with him as he does the same, and he can’t help but think, turning to you. his eyes drag over your features, his teeth digging into his lip when they catch on the happy twinkle in your eyes.
you turn to him, startled to find him looking back. “watch!” you insist. “this is the best part.”
you’re bouncing lightly as the episode goes on, one of your hands patting the bed until it finds his and holds it to your chest as if it was a comfort.
you squeeze it absentmindedly, thumb brushing against his palm.
your anticipation gets higher as the seconds pass, and then natasha is opening your door and calling your name, inviting you to game night.
friday pauses the episode when nat starts talking, and bucky is ready to angrily refuse natasha’s offer for making your features drop at the halt, glittery excitement washing away.
“sure,” you reply instead, lowering bucky’s hand to your lap and disappointedly moving to turn the television off when bucky stops you with a hand on your arm.
“why don’t we finish watching and then we go?”
you shake your head. “we can watch it later,” you reason. “i don’t want to keep anyone waiting.”
bucky isn’t happy about it, but agrees because you have. you drag him to the common room with you after brushing his hair away from his face with your fingers and straightening his shirt. as reluctant as he was at the prospect of leaving the comfort of your room—of the simplicity and comfort of you and him—the peck you give his nose when you’re satisfied with your work makes him a little dizzy and his reasons for not going a little blurry.
he sticks by your side for the entirety of the night, watching as your teammates get drunker while the sky bleeds black, the both of you remaining the more sober.
even after several of the bright drinks tony made, the knowing glint in natasha’s green eyes remains, her smirk growing as the night goes on until she sits next to you and throws an arm over your shoulders.
“let’s play a game,” she says to everyone, but her attention is on you. her words are eerily sober as she offers truth or dare, the others agreeing behind her. at the look she offers bucky, a pit grows in his stomach, suspecting she has a plan.
he doesn’t know how he did it, but he manages to avoid her for the entire game, until they’re a while in and the bottle’s neck points to him. a sinister grin curls natasha’s lips as she settles in, cocking her head at bucky. “alright barnes, dare—” she starts, choosing the order of her words obviously purposefully. he doesn’t miss the way her eyes flicker to you next to him, lips pursing. “or truth?”
he suspects she knows about the way he feels for you, and although it’s most probable that she won’t be as cruel as to force him to confess, he isn’t sure what else she could force him to do. spots of pink still splatter on his skin after the kiss you were dared to give your best friend; besides, he’d chosen dare far too many times when he was younger.
“truth.” he gulps.
“alright. i’ve noticed you’ve acted… differently lately,” nat begins. “nicer. although you barely come out here.”
“don’t hear the question, nat,” he points out, cocking a brow as she takes a sip of beer, avoiding your eyes.
“fine. i guess i’m just wondering if it’s due to an… interest,” she continues. “basically, are you interested in anyone, bucky?”
bucky swallows harshly, pressing his tongue against his cheek. his eyes tactfully flicker to you, unsurprised but startled to find you already looking back at him expectantly.
“uh,” he stammers, already knowing he’d answered the question by his actions. so he decides fuck it, they don’t know who it is and he’d rather just tell the truth. “yeah, i guess. i am—interested in someone.”
you blink, an indecipherable look going over your face for a second.
natasha, however, leans over with interest played on her features. “who?”
“‘think it’s only one question,” he mutters as a reminder, but then he hears your voice, intrigued.
“who is it?” you wonder. “is it the girl from the coffee shop? she’s so pretty.”
when he turns to you, he can’t tell you no, so he nods without thinking, “yeah, it’s her.”
something passes over your eyes; realization, he recognizes.
“my turn, right?” bucky asks, looking away from you with a blush and a clearing of his throat, but natasha shakes her head.
“actually, you’ve asked truth or dare the most out of everyone and wanda has one more question before she catches up to everyone,” she smiles. “so if it’s okay, i think she should turn.” she looks around innocently, the rest of the avengers unconcerned and shrugging sure, enjoying the show. wanda seems surprised at her words, but leans over to play anyway once everyone agrees.
she spins the bottle, and somehow—probably thanks to natasha’s fucking glare—it lands on you.
wanda claps keenly. “truth or dare, y/n?”
her face is inarguably more welcoming than natasha’s, and after kissing your best friend, giving total control over your social media to thor for the night, and making bruce blush after showing him the most… provocative photo on your phone, you pick truth. you realize it’s a mistake after catching natasha discreetly poke wanda’s arm.
“oh, uh, same question as bucky’s.”
you sigh through an awkward laugh, meeting bucky’s heavy stare. “yeah,” you admit, a strange pull curling your lips. bucky looks to his lap as he mourns in your truth. “this guy i met at that new antique store, it’s him. he’s really sweet.”
his heart would break at the words if he wasn’t paralyzed by the split-second confusion—the little time bucky’s subconscious leaves him in the dark while it ascertains something even bucky is unknown to until it isn’t.
you’re lying.
bucky’s neck snaps back up to look at you, not wanting to question you right now but later, when you’re alone. he suddenly can’t wait for this to be over.
he doesn’t have to wait long. natasha, for all her intrusions, recognizes when her plans have worked, and the game dissolves after a while, everyone dozing off of the couches or entertaining each other with their strange little antics.
it’s silent as you and bucky ride in the elevator, and then bucky has to get it out, the observation he can’t make sense of has been plaguing him for too long to make sense.
“you lied,” he blurts, meeting your wide eyes when your head snaps to him. your lips part in question, trying to seem nonchalant, but the speed at which you turned to look at him and the blur in your irises tells him you’re nervous. “in the game. about the guy, you lied.”
knowing well that if you try to lie you would probably get discovered again, you flounder. “you lied too!” you counteract instead. “when you sad it was the barista.”
bucky scans your face, and you realize what he’s doing too late. “it’s someone in the tower. someone who was there,” he realizes, his whole body pivoting to you.
covering your face in your hands, you complain, “stop doing that!”
the elevator doors open to an agent, making you lift your head from your hands, joining bucky when he tells them to wait for the next one, clicking to highest number on the tower as the doors close on the agent’s startled face.
you turn to him, “so what? you like someone in the tower too. that’s why you lied.”
“hypocrite,” bucky grumbles.
“it’s nat, isn’t it?” you press. “or wanda?”
“no,” bucky states, squinting at you. “it’s thor, right? either him or loki.”
“no. who is it, then? why won’t you tell me?”
“why won’t you tell me?”
“ah, yes, thank you for that comprehensive explanation,” bucky deadpans. you glare at him.
“it’s nat,” you repeat, squinting at him even though you know it isn’t. you’re sure of it because you can hear the honesty in his voice when he negated it and you can hear it again now, because you can see it so plainly on his face in that easy way only you can do. yet you insist because there is no one else it could be.
“no it’s not.”
“it is! it has to be nat!” you exclaim.
“why does it have to be nat?”
“because there’s no one else!”
“well there is because it’s not her!”
“no—no, it’s her. i’ve seen you with wanda, you don’t like how intrusive her powers are. i don’t think you’ve even met gamora or carol and you don’t remember maria,” you list, scrounging for all the reasons you’re ashamed of having prepared. “it’s natasha. who else is there?”
“you, you idiot! there’s you!” bucky cries, stepping closer to you to take hold of your shoulders, shaking you lightly to get his point across.
“me what?” you ask dumbly.
bucky’s frustration at you bubbles over, and he growls an insult at your stupidity before pulling you to him, holding you steady as he kisses you.
you’re shocked for a second before you respond, melting against your best friend, the arms that were limp at your side looping around his neck to keep you upright. his hands are tight around your waist, tugging you as close as he can get you.
the kiss is desperate, teeth bumping as he guides you to the wall of the elevator. you pull away for a second to catch your breath, running a thumb over his cheekbone, admiring the color of his eyes. “it’s you too,” you say.
“yeah, i figured,” bucky teases, making you laugh and roll your eyes before you kiss him again.
the elevator doors part to natasha and wanda standing outside, natasha’s features colored with satisfaction.
“told you,” she whispers to wanda.
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sweetascanbee · 6 months ago
Hey Ren it’s me your bestie here to bother you within another fic request 🥰
Your baking-related posts always make me so happy and freaking HUNGRY haha they look amazing and I just love your passion for it!
I think it would be hilarious if you wrote something with a baker!reader who witnesses Bucky Bae Barnes rolling up to the Louisiana cookout with a freaking store bought cake. 😂 Do they roast the crap out of him?? Does he find it endearing?? The floor is yours 💕
verb • \ ˈtēz \
1 : to disturb or annoy by persistent irritating or provoking especially in a petty or mischievous way
2 : what happens when Sam's little sidekick brings a janky ass cake to the cookout
word count: 1.4k
warnings: Bucky being all flirty, reader being all salty, fluff
a/n: this has been sitting in my inbox for far too long, please forgive me sweet Collieeee, I hope you like this!!! I'm hardly halfway done with these celebration fics, and now I have a bunch more than 200 followers, but I'm excited to finish these up, ahhh! Also, I have it on good authority (a tumblr or twitter post) that the cake was from Carvel, lmaoooo.
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You couldn’t stop staring at it.
No matter how hard you tried, you couldn’t tear your eyes away from it.
It was like a horrific accident on the freeway; it stopped everything in its tracks, causing traffic to come to a standstill because hardly anyone could believe tragedy when it unfolded before their very eyes.
A cake.
A store-bought cake.
A store-bought ice cream cake. In the middle of a sweltering Delacroix afternoon, with no icebox in sight. On your dessert table.
“Miss Mable...” you said when you finally found your voice, barely containing the grief-stricken wobble in your throat.
The older woman looked up from the pecan pie she had been slicing, frowning up at you with concern. “Yes, baby? Everything alright?”
You slowly lifted a hand, pointing an unsteady finger at the offending thing that barely passed as a confection, taking a sharp inhale. “Who put that on my table?”
Miss Mable followed the path of your finger, her face slackening into a grim expression as her eyes caught sight of the Thing, her lips pursing in that way that told you she was holding back her tongue. “I don’t know, baby, but I bet we can salvage it...”
“Now don’t lie to her, Mable,” Miss Constance chimed in from her spot down the table, dusting some more sugar on the beignets you had carefully arranged earlier. “It was that James Dean-looking white man over there. Sam’s little sidekick,” she said, nodding her head and clicking her tongue at some point behind you.
You turned swiftly, your eyes scanning the crowd until you found the man in question. He wasn’t hard to spot; he was tall, broad-backed, and you begrudgingly noted that he could, in fact, give James Dean a run for his money. But that was beside the point.
You could feel your grief melt into rage as you looked upon this newcomer, this stranger who dared to defile your sacred dessert arrangement and this entire hallowed cookout with this egregious, plastic-wrapped, sinful abomination. You turned back to the table to glare at it, your hands balling into fists as fiery emotion threatened to bubble forth out of you. You swore flames lapped at your ears.
“Now baby, he’s a guest. He doesn’t know better,” Miss Mable appealed to you, but you were having none of it.
You grabbed the abomination, the cheap plastic shell crunching under your fierce grip, the sound of Mable’s calls and Constance’s cheers melting away as you marched your way through innocent partygoers, your eyes trained directly on Value Brand Marlon Brando where he stood with Sam and the rest of his family.
Sarah was the first to notice you coming, her eyes widening, tapping Sam on the shoulder and pointing your way. Sam only had to look at you for a second before he grabbed his friend, trying to shuttle him away from danger, but it was too late.
You walked right up to him, barely an inch separating your chests, your nostrils flaring dangerously. The sidekick looked rightfully shocked and alarmed at your presence, his eyes going wide, the blues of his irises reminding you of those summers where your uncle would take you out fishing on the bay, nothing but calm waters and peaceful quiet surrounding you as you read a book or two under the warm sun...
You held up the container for him to see, clearly see, the mess he brought upon this unsuspecting party.
“What is this?” You asked sharply, your gaze unwavering, full of challenge.
“Y/n, blame me,” Sam interjected, trying to get in between you and his friend. “I’m the one who told him he should bring somethi—”
You help your free hand up, silencing the captain immediately, all without batting an eye at the malefactor in front of you.
“What. Is. This,” you asked again slowly, so he could truly comprehend, lifting the abomination higher so that it was right under his chin.
He looked down at it, then back up at you, those cerulean waves taking on a new glint that you definitely did not like.
“Well, doll, it looks like a cake,” he said, his voice low and gravelly, as if he were telling you a salacious secret, the corner of his mouth lifting up.
Your heart stuttered strangely, probably because of the burning anger coursing through you, your breath hitching ever so slightly at the gall this man had. It definitely wasn’t because of the way he was looking at you, or how soft and inviting his hair looked. Not at all.
“The fact that you think this is a cake almost makes me want to feel sorry for you,” you said firmly, giving him your best glare. He seemed unaffected though, the other corner of his mouth lifting into a wry grin. You wanted to kiss—SLAP it off his face.
“This is not a cake,” you continued, stepping even closer to him. “A cake takes skill, precision, time, and energy. This is a slab of ice cream that was cut into the shape of an overgrown hockey puck, with sandwich cookies thrown on top to make it look edible.” As if to punctuate the point, one of the cookies slid off the top of the cake and down its already drooping façade, making a sad, lackluster landing at the bottom of the container. “Ice cream? In the middle of a Louisiana spring? Do they not teach you thermodynamics up in Yankee Town?”
There was a snort of laughter from Sam, and you turned your glare on him. He held up his hands in surrender, taking a large step back from you.
“You got something against ice cream, doll?”
Your gaze snapped back to the miscreant, that infuriating grin still there, crinkles just beginning to form at the corners of his eyes. For some reason, you were rendered speechless, a gasp caught in the back of your throat at his brazen mocking.
“You know what? You can keep this,” you said, shoving the container against his broad, broad chest until he grabbed it from you, that freaking grin never wavering, those crystalline blue eyes shining like stars that had lost their way from the heavens. “Out of respect for Sam, and Sam only, I won’t throw that thing off the dock, but you better keep it away from my dessert table. Do I make myself clear?” you said crossing your arms tightly across your chest so he knew you meant business.
“Loud and clear, ma’am,” he said, his smile widening, an odd warmth spreading through you at the sight. You chalked it up to the balmy weather. “How about we grab a coffee, so I can make it up to you? My treat, doll.”
You blinked. “What.”
“Coffee?” he repeated, tilting his head amusingly at you. “It’s a drink. Dark. A little bitter. Goes real well with most desserts, too. Or, we can do dinner. That’ll really teach me a lesson, don’t you think?” he added, having the absolute nerve to wink at you.
You masked the hitch in your breath with an empty chuckle, giving him the once over with an eyebrow raised. “Tell you what, hotshot. I’ll go out to dinner with you when your cake survives a day in hell. Stay away from my dessert table!”
With that, you turned promptly, marching your way back to your precious sweets without another glance in his direction.
Bucky looked on after you, still admiring the way the afternoon sun illuminated your skin, the way your sundress swished with every angry step you took away from him, the way you commandeered those desserts like you a general in the midst of battle.
Damn, you were beautiful.
“Sam...” he said, completely unable to keep the wistful note out of his tone.
“Hey Buck, I’m sorry about her,” Sam said, clapping a hand on his shoulder. “She owns a bakery in town, and ever since we were little, she’s been weirdly defensive about baked goods. She didn’t mean any harm.”
Bucky shook his head slowly, the goofy smile on his face only getting bigger as he watched you carefully adjust a few cupcakes on their stand. “Sam. I think I just met the woman I’m gonna marry.”
Sam doubled over with laughter, joined by Sarah, AJ, and Cass, taking the cake from him and setting it down on the table nearby.
As if you could sense his gaze still on you, you glanced over your shoulder, your eyes locking with his, an adorable scowl forming on your face when you saw him. He didn’t miss the way your movements faltered when you turned away again, the way you smoothed your skirt, and fiddled with your hair a little.
Oh, there was not a doubt in Bucky Barnes’ mind that he was completely, utterly, and hopelessly in love.
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jellycolors · 8 months ago
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𝘫𝘢𝘮𝘦𝘴 𝘣𝘶𝘤𝘩𝘢𝘯𝘢𝘯 𝘣𝘢𝘳𝘯𝘦𝘴 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘱𝘴𝘥
𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞/𝐫𝐞𝐛𝐥𝐨𝐠 𝐢𝐟 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐮𝐬𝐞 𝐨𝐫 𝐬𝐚𝐯𝐞
𝐝𝐨 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐚𝐥
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gutflorizt · 5 months ago
.⋆˚ 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐈𝐭𝐬𝐲 𝐁𝐢𝐭𝐬𝐲 𝐒𝐩𝐢𝐝𝐞𝐫
𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲︱𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐢𝐭𝐬𝐲 𝐛𝐢𝐭𝐬𝐲 𝐬𝐩𝐢𝐝𝐞𝐫 𝐢𝐬𝐧'𝐭 𝐬𝐨 𝐛𝐢𝐭𝐬𝐲 𝐰𝐡𝐞𝐧 𝐢𝐭 𝐜𝐥𝐢𝐦𝐛𝐬 𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐨 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐫𝐨𝐨𝐦
𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬︱𝐃𝐁𝐅!𝐑𝐨𝐨𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐭𝐞!𝐁𝐮𝐜𝐤𝐲 𝐱 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫
𝐖.𝐂︱ 𝟓𝟎𝟓
𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 ︱𝐅𝐥𝐮𝐟𝐟, 𝐜𝐮𝐝𝐝𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐠, 𝐚𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐡𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐡𝐨𝐛𝐢𝐚
𝐀𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞︱𝐉𝐮𝐬𝐭 𝐚 𝐬𝐡𝐨𝐫𝐭 𝐛𝐥𝐮𝐫𝐛 :𝐩 𝐄𝐧𝐣𝐨𝐲!
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You and Bucky decided on one thing before he moved in. That he kills any and all bugs. Nothing scared the man, especially something so small like an ant.
You were quite the opposite. You preferred that any critter stayed outside and as far away as possible. You took every precaution to make sure your house was a bug free zone. Much to your dismay it wasn’t entirely impossible to keep them out.
You found one right before you were going to sleep. You were sitting down at your vanity finishing up your skincare routine when you felt something on your hand leg. You brushed your leg and continued. When you felt that strange feeling again you looked down and saw a black spider crawling across your lap.
“Oh my god!” You screamed as you got up and ran out of the room. Instinctively you dashed right towards Bucky’s room, “Bucky!”
“What’s the matter?” He asked calmly, oblivious to the fact you were on the verge of panicking.
“There’s a spider–Huge one in my room-”
“And let me guess you need me to kill it?”
You flashed him a smile, “Please with a cherry on top?”
He playfully rolled his eyes as he got up from the bed, “I’ll be right back.”
Bucky entered your room and scanned for any signs of a spider. He didn’t mind the fact that you had him kill bugs. In fact he found it endearing you needed him and would clutch his chest when you saw one.
He almost gave up when he saw a tiny spider crawling up the wall. “Here I thought you were this gigantic thing,” He chuckled as he grabbed your shoe and squashed it quietly against the wall.
Bucky walked back into your room and he saw you on his bed with your legs tucked under you. You inched closer to him on all fours, stopping at the edge and lifting yourself up on your knees.
“Did you get it, Bucky?” You worriedly asked. “Because if you didn’t I’m not going back in there. Like ever.”
A devious idea popped into Bucky’s mind. “I’m sorry sweetheart but it escaped.” He internally cooed at the sight when you started to nervously bite your nails.
“You have got to be kidding me,” You cursed. “Where am I going to sleep now?”
“You could always sleep with me,” He suggested as he got closer to the bed. “It’d be nice to have you in my arms. Plus my room is spider free.”
You accepted with no hesitation. Bucky eagerly got under the covers and opened his arms, an informal invitation to spend the entire night in his arms. You snuggled closer to him, sighing in satisfaction when you were enveloped in his warmth. His hand running up and down your back soothed you, luring you to sleep.
“My poor baby, scared of the itsy bitsy spider,” He teased, tenderly kissing your forehead.
“Shut up,” You groaned. “It was huge I swear!”
“Yeah sure it was,” He chuckled, knowing fully well it wasn’t that big. “At least you’re safe here.” In my arms where I could protect from everything in sight. Even an itsy bitsy spider.
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bucky-bucky-bucky-bucky · 26 days ago
Red Light, Green Light | Bucky Barnes x Reader
Hi! This takes safe sex to a new meaning lol
Warning: a little bit of smut, angst
You collapsed against Bucky’s bare, sweat-slick chest. This was his favorite version of you: flushed cheeks and sweaty hair. Breathless. This was the you only he had the privilege of seeing. In these moments, nothing else existed, nothing else mattered. It was just the two of you in your own little world. If some other-worldly threat descended upon the earth in this moment, Bucky wouldn’t have noticed.
His strong arms pulled you closer as he rolled his hips just like you liked. It pulled a sound from you that dripped like honey from your mouth. Sweet and sticky. But two could play at that game. The sharp edges of your teeth dragged against Bucky’s sweaty skin, and the depraved moan that slipped past his lips made your heart skip a beat. His eyes fluttered shut as he drove his hips against yours once more. You could’ve sworn you’d soon die of exhaustion, but you didn’t care- this was the way you wanted to go.
You teetered on the precipice of earth-shattering bliss- but without warning, Bucky’s movements slowed. He halted your attempts to move against him and silenced your needy whines. He placed a hand under your chin and angled your face toward his with authority. “I need your color, baby,” he breathed. “What’s your color?”
“GreenGreenGreenGreenGreen”, you nearly screamed. “Harder, Buck. Don’t stop, it’s green. I’m-”
With one more buck of his hips, Bucky pushed you over the edge. He watched with hooded eyes as his best girl fell apart- again- just for him. He followed soon behind, his grip on you tightening as he let loose another debauched moan. The welcome sting of your nails digging into his arm brought him back to reality, back to you.
The two of you remained tangled in each other- sweaty and seeing stars. His heart thrummed beneath your cheek as you laid your head on his chest. It was the sound of home.
With you in his arms, all breathy and rosy-cheeked, Bucky could’ve died happy. It almost scared him how much he loved you. He’d never cared so deeply for anyone, never wanted to give himself over to someone- until you. His hand found your hair and gently tangled in your locks, twirling a strand between his fingers. “How’s my girl doing?” He leaned down and pressed a kiss to the top of your head, “you good, baby?”
“Very good. Great. Fantastic.” You stared up at Bucky with adoration, your pupils still blown, “how are you doin’, Sarge?”
Bucky scooped you up into his arms and sat you in his lap, “never better, doll.”
He took your face in his hands and kissed you like it would be the last time. He was hungry. Desperate. A distinct, overwhelming need for you burned in his chest. But he did his best to keep it at bay. The serum had him ready for rounds two, three, and four before you’d even caught your breath. He could see the haze in your eyes, the tired smile forming on your lips. You were done for the night, and that was fine by him.
He handed you a water and held you close as you drank, his lips trailing gentle kisses along your shoulders. Bucky had a way of taking care of you after. He’d hold you and shower you with affection, bring you water, and always slipped into a hot shower with you. He told you he loved you, praised you, admired you like a fine work of art. He was gentle, and almost sickeningly sweet.
“Buck, can I ask you something?” you set your water on the nightstand and turned to face him, resting your hands on his bite-mark covered chest.
“Anything, sweets.”
Part of you didn’t want to say anything out of fear that you’d embarrass him. Bucky was the perfect boyfriend- who were you to ask why he did the things he did? You knew he loved you, that he cared for you more than anyone or anything. There was nothing to complain about, no unaired grievances to share. But something stood out to you.
You let your eyes drift over the evidence of your evening, admiring the nail marks and bites. They’d be gone in less than an hour. Stupid serum. “Why do you always ask me for my color?”
Bucky cocked his head to the side, “Well, we decided on the color system when we first got together…” He brought a hand to your face and swept a thumb over your swollen bottom lip. He wanted to bite on it- but kept his mind focused. And as your question sank in a bit longer, he feared he’d done something wrong. This time, his voice came out a little quieter, a little more timid, “We can change it if you like, baby. Whatever you want.”
Of course, Bucky only wanted you to be happy. He wanted you to feel safe and comfortable with him. That was non-negotiable. And if he’d done something to somehow mar the trust you’d built with him, he needed to fix it.
“Oh, no. I’m totally good with the system, Buck. I’m just…” You toyed with your hair a bit as you searched for your words. It seemed like an odd thing to say, a strange question to ask. But he’d never taken you anywhere near yellow. “We don’t do anything crazy- you never even come close to crossing a line. You respect all my boundaries. I’ve never been uncomfortable or unsure. I guess I’m just curious why you always ask- I’ve never been with anyone who did it so often. Do you think that I’m not having a good time?”
Bucky shook his head, “No. No, sweets. That’s not it.” He pressed a light kiss to your lips, granting himself just a second of extra time. The truth held a particular shame he didn’t like to face. “I just wanna know. I like to check in, make sure you’re alright, you know? Cause I love you. I want you to feel safe. And I think it’s important to ask. That’s all”. With that, he scooped you up once more and carried you to the bathroom.
His quick subject change nearly gave you whiplash. “So, what are you feeling for dinner?”, he asked, his tone artificially light. He leaned into the shower and turned it on, “I was thinking maybe Thai? We could order from that ‘Thai, How Are You?’ place on 26th street.” He kept talking- all miso soup and pad thai- forming a wall of words to try and distract you. But he should’ve known that you saw right through him.
“Hey, nuh-uh. Don’t try to distract me with food!” you laughed. You turned the shower off and caged Bucky in against the counter like he always did to you. The reverse didn’t have the same intimidating effect, but Bucky played along.
“I feel like there’s something you’re not telling me, Buck.” It wasn’t accusatory- almost apologetic. “It’s not a big deal, I’m just curious…”
Bucky didn’t like the dejected tone of your voice. He knew you had a way of overthinking things, always finding a way blame yourself. You once said you had a talent for breaking your own heart, and he feared you were about to exercise it.
“I ask you for your color a lot because I- I could hurt you, baby”.
“Oooh, is that a threat or a promise?” you shot him an over-exaggerated wink and tugged your bottom lip between your teeth.
“I’m serious-”
“So am I!” you laughed, “What if I want you to hurt me?”
Bucky didn’t laugh.
“I’m too strong, doll. I’ve got this stupid arm, and I’m…” He raked his metal hand through his hair. “I have to be careful with you- I can’t lose control.” He wanted to reach out and touch you, but even thinking about the worst-case scenario forced him to abstain. “I could seriously hurt you.”
The serum gave him enough strength to pulverize concrete. And he’d crushed more throats than he could remember. As a soldier, as a weapon, he was the perfect specimen. But in the confines of the home you shared, his strength didn’t fit. Sometimes, he hated that he gave himself permission to be close to you- someone so sweet and soft. So fragile.
He never liked admitting just how much his own strength scared him. It opened up a door that, more often than not, led to a steep drop off and a long shame spiral. But it was the reality he lived with every day. Every hug, every moment spent holding you could send you to the ER- or worse, the morgue.
“Plus, I know you-” he continued with a huff, “I know you’re the suffer in silence type, and that you won’t speak up if you’re in pain. You never put yourself first- you never prioritize your safety or comfort over mine. So, I have to check. I have to ask.”
You laid your hands on Bucky’s chest, his skin still tinged red with teeth marks. He liked when you littered traces of yourself across his body. The scars from his Hydra days never looked better than when surrounded by the hickeys you’d sucked into his skin. But not once did he return the favor. Never had he left behind a single handprint on your ass or a bite on your shoulder. And now, you knew why.
“But I’m not worried about it. You know I trust you whole-heartedly, right?”
He nodded- at least one of you trusted him. Though part of him wished you were more wary of his strength. Every time you climbed into his lap or trailed your lips down his chest, you played with fire- you put your life on the line. And though he’d never dream of refusing your advances, he wished your insatiable lust for him didn’t have to put you at risk.
“Like I said, you’ve never even come close to ‘yellow’. So you can relax, Buck. Ease up.”
Bucky ran a gentle hand through your hair, smoothing the stray strands. He looked at you like fine China, like something made of glass. “That’s the point, though, isn’t it? To never push your partner too far? You’ve never come close to yellow, either-”
“Right... but I guess- I’m not holding back.” You stared at him and cocked your head to the side, his hand falling from your hair. “Are you?”
Bucky nodded, “I have to”.
This was what Bucky hoped to avoid. With those three words, you had enough ammo to destroy yourself.
You hadn’t thought about it like that. Bucky’s old-fashioned nature made sense of a lot of things, and you assumed this was one of them. You were wrong. “You said you can’t lose control so that…that makes sense.”
“Doll, don’t. It’s okay. Please-”
But he’d already lost you.
“Do you enjoy it when we…” you didn’t finish your sentence. Negative thoughts bombarded you from all sides, forcing you into submission. “Cause I- I want you to have a good time when we’re um, together.”
“I do. I always do.”
“But if you have to restrain yourself or hold back, or whatever- how fun can it really be? If you can’t relax?” Your warm fingertips fell from his chest, leaving an unwelcome cold in their wake. “I want you to be able to let go, Buck”
“I do. I let go,” he said. “I just can’t be mindless about it, or act on my every whim. I can’t fully lose myself. Otherwise, I could-” He didn’t want to talk about ‘otherwise’.
All this time, you’d been pouncing on Bucky with no holds barred. You toyed with him, teased and tormented him with surprise nudes, intrusions on his showers, and strategically placed (or mis-placed) clothing. He’d stare at you with narrowed eyes and flushed cheeks, but always succumbed to your cheeky play. And to think that this entire time, he’d had to grit his teeth just to get through. Of course, he liked having sex with you- his greedy hands told you as much. But did he enjoy it? Did he revel in it? Did he look forward to watching you come apart at the seams?
The familiar sight of your nails digging into your cuticles made Bucky wince. He kicked himself for not wording his answer differently, for making you doubt how he felt about your sex life. But just as he sought to remedy the situation, you made him an offer.
“Well, if there’s- I don’t know if there are any other um, enhanced people you’d feel more comfortable with? Cause I just want you to have a good time, babe. I want you to enjoy yourself” You flashed him a heartbroken smile. All you wanted, truly, was for Bucky to happy. “So if you wanna talk to someone who’s more like you- someone who isn’t as breakable, I mean… I get that. Maybe Jen Walters? She’s pretty, um, sturdy. Or Maybe-”
Bucky wouldn’t hear of it. He lifted you and spun you around, placing you on the cold countertop. His arms caged you in, allowing you no chance for escape. This was what he loved- and hated- most about you: you always put him first. “Baby, do you want me sleeping with other people?”
“I want you to be happy, so if-”
“Sweetheart,” he took your chin between his fingers. “That’s not what I asked. Do you- or do you not- want me to have sex with someone else?”
You shook your head.
“Good,” he said. “Cause I don’t want anyone but you.”
It was sweet, Bucky was always sweet- but, you needed him to be honest. “Are you sure?” you sighed, “Cause I won’t expect you to only sleep with me if it’s not-”
He silenced you with a long, deep kiss. “Even if you were like me, even if you’d been dosed with the serum- I’d still be just as careful.” His voice was low and his words stern. He wasn’t saying this for your benefit or to assuage your anxiety- he meant it.
“The way I feel about you, doll- you have no idea how much I love you…” His hands ran gently through your hair- he was always so gentle. So soft. ”But I know what I’m capable of. So even if you were an Asgardian god, I’d still hold back. You’re too important.”
It didn’t matter to him if you had super strength or chaos magic or a Hulk gene- he cared about you too much to ever wield his full strength. You were the natural, uncorrupted, mortal with whom Bucky chose to share his life.
“And…” he dropped a kiss to your lips. “If you need proof…” his lips brushed your ear. “Of how hungry I am for you,” his hands snaked up your thighs. “We can go again…” he attached his mouth to your neck, trailing his tongue down your pulse. “And I can show you.”
His warmth left your neck all too soon, and his words took on an air of seriousness. “But if you’re done for the night, if you’re too tired, we can-“
“No- I’m good, I’m great.” You dragged one nail slowly down Bucky’s chest, “And I’m not as fragile as you think, Barnes.”
He flashed you a wicked grin and reached into the shower to turn it back on. He loved when you challenged him. “Okay then, doll. Get in.”
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traitorjoelite · 6 months ago
summary: your friends with benefits situation with bucky takes a turn that could break your heart
pairing: frat!bucky x reader
word count: 3.6k
warnings: ANGST, explicit language, consumption of alcohol, implied smut, mention of previous cheating (not bucky), reader may have a slight drinking problem, bad rebounds, one (1) game of spin the bottle, bucky is kind of a dick but also reader is kind of crazy, slightly toxic but it works out in the end, like the tiniest bit of fluff (if you squint). loosely based on undrunk by fletcher
a/n: here she is, the long awaited frat!bucky. i hope this was worth the wait, and everyone enjoys the happy ending i tried to do. if you like this please make sure to reblog and comment - i appreciate every single one!!
main masterlist ─ i no longer have a taglist but you can follow @theafterglowlibrary and turn on notifications for fic updates!
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You were woken up by the click of your bedroom closing, and the soft sound of padded feet through your hallway and out the front door. You squeezed your eyes tight, willing the tears not to come as you rolled over and checked the time. 5am. At least he was consistent.
It was stupid - you were stupid - to let this happen again. Bucky had broken your heart enough times that you should know better by now. But you never learn.
You guessed you couldn’t really blame him. He had made it clear to you from the very first night that he wasn’t interested in a relationship. That it would only ever be sex. Of course, when you’re half drunk and desperate for him to just fuck you already, you agree to anything. No one could blame you for a one night mistake.
No, the real pain came from the months after. The 1am texts and the secret touches. Because with those came the silly pictures and the late night talks as he laid in your bed. With it came the desperate want for more. Even when you knew it wasn’t possible.
So you laid in bed, staring at the ceiling as the tears streamed down your face, knowing you had no one to blame but yourself.
Despite the ache in your chest, there was one thing you could never say no to: a party. Maybe you should learn to stay away from them, considering that’s how you ended up in Bucky’s bed in the first place, but you just couldn’t; there was nothing like the sweet release of drinking your pain away.
At the very least, you could stay away from Bucky’s frat house. Or that’s what you told yourself.
Somehow, though, you ended up in the basement of the Phi Gamma Delta house, even though you specifically told Wanda not to let you anywhere near Fiji tonight. Not after your conversation with Bucky a few days ago.
Not after he had accidentally stayed the night, and you thought it meant more. Not after you had asked him to go to breakfast and he practically sprinted for the door.
But you hadn’t seen him yet, so that was a plus. There was always a chance he had skipped out on the festivities for the night. Maybe he had gone home to Brooklyn for the weekend, or maybe he was upstairs in his room and you could just -
Your thoughts were cut off by the cheers of the group of people around you, and you turned to see Sam in the middle finishing off a handle of vodka. In your experience, that could only mean one thing.
“Let’s play spin the bottle!” Sam shouted as the last burn of the liquor coursed through him. Having no reason to say no, you made room for yourself in the circle and patiently waited your turn.
Sam gave a dramatic look around the room, before spinning the bottle with a twist of his wrist. Everyone watched as the glass slowed, anxious to see who the first person to kiss the frat president would be tonight. To your surprise, the bottle came to a slow stop on you.
You looked up with slightly panicked eyes. Even in your inebriated state, you could recognize that kissing one of Bucky’s brothers probably wasn’t the greatest idea. But then you remembered the look of absolute terror on his face at the mention of more. And Sam was moving across the circle to you, and Steve - Bucky’s best friend - wasn’t saying anything and so you came to the conclusion that you did with most things: fuck it.
When Sam’s warm lips met yours, you felt… nothing. No spark, nothing beyond acknowledging he was a good kisser. It lasted less than 10 seconds before you were pulling away and spinning the bottle yourself.
Which is how you ended up kissing half the people at the party: Peter - everyone’s favorite pledge, Natasha - your chemistry lab partner, and Scott - who you had never met before but was as funny as he was a good kisser, just to name a few.
The game continued until it dwindled down to a handful of people and you switched to another drinking game. One which you were losing terribly and it showed in your glassy eyes and drunken babble.
The last thing you remembered was the feel of strong hands on your hips, the soft plush of a mattress, and an ache between your thighs.
A beam of sunlight burned across your face, enunciating the raging headache you had after going to bed without Advil or an acceptable amount of water. You could have sworn you closed your blinds, but figured you must have opened them up at some point during the day before.
It wasn’t until you reached for the bottle of water you usually kept on your nightstand and grasped air instead that you realized you were, in fact, not in your own bed.
You shot up before groaning at the rush of dizziness to your head. Slowly, you blinked until the room came into focus, and assessed the damage of your night.
You were naked, so that wasn’t a good sign. You remembered sloppy kisses and hushed whispers of are you sure? And at least whoever it was was just as drunk as you were, so there was no harm done in your mind.
That was, until you realized who you had spent your drunken night with.
Broad shoulders gave way to a freckled back and narrow waist. The tuft of blond hair was a mess, like he - or you - had run hands through it, a lot. You knew there was no one else you could be, but when he rolled over, his long lashes fluttering awake, it was confirmed.
“Steve?” you hissed, still in shock. “What the fuck happened?”
At the unmistakable sound of your voice, his eyes snapped open, and he nearly fell to the floor.
“Y/N? Fuck, fuck! Bucky is gonna kill me.”
“I wouldn’t worry about that,” you scoffed, and you wanted to crush the little bit of hope that creeped into your mind. No, he had made it clear there was nothing more than sex between you. But off course he wouldn’t want his best friend to sleep with the same girl. Bro code or whatever.
God, his best friend. This was worse than Sam, who he’d only known a couple of years. This was his other half since they were practically in the womb. You couldn’t have chosen a worse rebound.
Wanting to forget the mess you had just made of your life, you quickly pulled on your clothes while Steve watched with wary eyes, though he didn’t say anything else about Bucky.
“Are you okay?” You heard Steve’s timid voice as you were about to pull open his door. The motherfucker was such a sweetheart, and you couldn’t handle crying on top of everything else right now.
You were so close to just leaving without a word; that would have been easier on everyone. But damn Steven Rogers, so charming without even trying. You walked back to his bed where he had sat watching you, and gave him a quick kiss. It was a thank you and an apology and a let’s never talk about this again all in one, and he seemed to understand.
Pressing your ear to the door, you made sure no one was in the hall before you slipped out of his room. It would be your luck if Bucky was coming out of his room across the hall at the same moment you were leaving his best friend.
Thankfully, the hall was empty, and you couldn’t hear the usual chatter that came from the frat house, so you figured they must all still be sleeping off their hangovers. You pulled out your phone and ordered an Uber, figuring your best bet was to wait outside on the steps for the few minutes it would take to pick you up. You were so engrossed in your phone you didn’t hear the clatter of plates in the kitchen or the abrupt stop of voices.
When you finally reached the bottom of the stairs, you felt eyes on you, and you looked up to see Bucky staring at you from the kitchen.
You couldn’t have predicted how much it would hurt to see his face, even after only a few days. You also couldn’t have expected the gut-wrenching feeling that came with him cooking breakfast… for someone else.
Not just anyone else, Dot, the beautiful redhead from Chi Omega that you had always been insecure about, even before Bucky.
Flashes of walking in on your ex-boyfriend buried between her thighs had you stumbling back, and Bucky could do nothing but watch as you made your way to the front door. You could even hear the snicker of Dot’s voice just before you slammed the door shut behind you.
The great thing about having your own apartment is you could get wine drunk every night of the week and no one was there to judge you for it.
So every night for the next week, you poured yourself a glass before you started on your homework, and were happily tipsy by the time you took a shower and fell into bed. Some may call it a problem, but they weren’t around to know.
You got so used to the feeling that by the time Thursday night rolled around and you had nothing to do but drink, you went a little overboard.
After the first glass you didn’t even bother with any etiquette, instead drinking straight from the bottle until it was empty and you were hungry. You started a pot to boil while you uncorked another bottle, and had half of that down by the time your pasta was ready to be cooked. Trying to maneuver a pot of boiling water proved to be difficult with a bottle of wine in one hand, so you tried to set it down to give yourself room to work, but ended up knocking the handle of the pot, spilling hot water across your arm in the process.
Though it stung, your pride was the thing that took the most damage as you pressed a cold washcloth to your forearm. You slid down to sit on the tiled floor, bringing the bottle with you, and only when you drained the last of the liquid did you allow yourself to feel your emotions.
It started off with silent tears, hurt from the shards of your heart, and gradually your drunken mind spiraled until all you could feel was seething anger at the way Bucky had treated you.
How were you not supposed to catch feelings after Bucky was in your bed practically every weekend?
There were even nights where he came over just to study - although you supposed those always ended in hookups too. But he called you beautiful as he pushed into you, brushing your hair from your face and leaving delicate kisses across your flesh. He made you feel more than any other reoccurring hookup. You couldn’t believe you were the only one who felt the spark that always buzzed beneath the surface of your relationship.
Letting your anger and uninhibited brain fuel you, you grasped for your phone, dialing the number you now knew by heart.
The line rang once, twice, before he picked up, and at first all you could hear was the chatter of other people. He yelled something, muffled by his hand over the speaker, before you heard the sound of a door shutting and he finally spoke.
“Hello? Y/N?” He sounded relatively sober, which did not bode well for you. It was a lot harder to argue with someone when they weren’t as drunk as you were - and that’s exactly what you were looking for.
“James Barnes, you motherfucker.” You tried to sound confident and put together, but the tell-tale of slur coated your words. “You fucking suck, dude.”
“Why are you calling me?” You could hear the agitation in his words, and that made you even angrier.
“To tell you that you’re the fucking worst, James. You need to know that. I need you to know that.”
“God, Y/N, how drunk are you?”
“I’m not -” you hiccupped, giving yourself away even more. “I’m not drunk. You’re drunk.”
“No, I’m not the one that’s wasted on a Thursday night. Jesus.” Surprisingly, you couldn’t hear any judgment in his tone - just disappointment. And maybe that hurt worse. What right did he have to be disappointed in you? You weren’t his anything.
“Don’t fucking talk to me like that. Just don’t.” Your voice wavered and you could feel the tears coming again. “How could you?”
A deep sigh, like he knew this was coming. “How could I what?”
“You could have picked anyone but her, anyone but Dot. You know how I feel about her, and you fuck her? It’s like you don’t even care about me.”
“It’s not like that -” You cut him off, not wanting to hear whatever lies he spouted.
“Don’t bullshit me. You even cooked her breakfast. I thought you didn’t do relationships, huh? Or is it just that you don’t do relationships with me?” Finally, the dam cracked and you were sobbing and you heard Bucky sigh again, like you were a nuisance, like he had better things to do.
“Listen, Y/N, I’m sorry. I’m sorry you’re hurt, that you caught feelings, that you thought there was more. But I told you from the beginning that I didn’t want a relationship. More than once.” The truth of the words stung, but he wasn't done yet. No, Bucky had to make sure every piece of your heart was irreparable. “I’m not going to keep explaining myself to you, not when you’re acting crazy like this.”
“At least your best friend doesn’t think I’m crazy. And he was a better fuck anyways.” You were grappling for any way you could hurt him the way he had hurt you but he was a brick wall.
“Goodbye, Y/N.”
Crazy. The word bounced around in your thoughts over and over, even after the call had ended. You stared at the kitchen wall, thinking about where everything had gone wrong. Where you had gone wrong.
Because this was your fault, and that was a hard pill to swallow. Bucky was right, he had been honest with you from the beginning, and you had held onto unfounded hopes.
In that moment all you could wish was to go back in time - to stop from getting drunk that first night. To stop your spitefulness and your anger. To stop from ever falling in love with him.
The next morning you woke up, still on the kitchen floor, with a splitting headache and dried tears coating your face.
You thanked the gods you didn’t have a class on Fridays as you stepped into the shower, feeling the ache of last night slowly wash off you. It was after that you decided, staring in the mirror at your sunken cheeks, that you would make a change. You would get your shit together.
You started with an apology to Steve, one he deserved long before now, then took the time to delete the pictures of Bucky from your phone. The ones that were private and you had kept for when you needed something to take the edge off of missing him. The thought filled you with guilt now, as you pressed delete and hoped he had done the same on his end. Then you texted your friends you had neglected the past couple months, the ones who tried to warn you and who had gotten sick of your own self sabotage.
The last thing you did was type out a text to Bucky, apologizing for your behavior, for the way you had treated him, and wishing him well. But you couldn’t bring yourself to send it, so it sat undelivered in your phone until you could finally bring yourself to delete the entire text thread.
You knew you should delete his number too, erase any temptation, but it was just something you couldn’t bring yourself to do.
The urge to text him and explain yourself took a while to go away, especially when you found out that Bucky wasn’t lying about nothing happening with Dot, that she was there because her sorority sister had needed a ride home that morning, and she just so happened to catch Bucky in the kitchen.
You beat yourself up for that one, though you knew it wouldn’t have made a difference. There was never anything more for you and Bucky, regardless of who he did or didn’t sleep with. That was the hardest part to get over.
But you did it.
You stopped going to frat parties, too, deciding that part of your life was over. You threw yourself into your studies and before you knew it, May was approaching and you were just a couple weeks from graduation.
Preparing for one last hoorah with your friends, you met Wanda at your favorite bar downtown - dressed up for the first time in a while, and drinking more than a single glass of wine with dinner since that phone call with Bucky.
Who, speak of the devil, walked in just as you were grabbing a tray of drinks off the bartop. You locked eyes, but quickly hustled back to your table as you saw him attempt to push through the crowd towards you.
You thought he had gotten the hint, because you only saw him in quick glances from across the bar after that, until you made your way to the bathroom, brushing Wanda off when she offered to come with you.
Unfortunately, there was only a single stall that was annoyingly occupied, so you leaned back against the wall and waited.
You were scrolling through Twitter, contemplating going full Maddy from euphoria and banging on the door, when you felt a presence beside you. You knew without looking up exactly who it was.
Slowly, you slipped your phone in your pocket and turned to look up at him.
He was devastating. Just as charming and handsome as you remembered, and it was a struggle for a moment to catch your breath.
“Hi,” he whispered, and you wondered if maybe he was thinking the same thing about you. You could only be so foolish to hope. “I’ve missed you.”
You felt your heart skip a beat, and you wanted to shove the feeling down but suddenly his hands were cupping your face and he was just a breath away.
“I was an idiot, to say the least, and I’m sorry it took a few months of missing you everyday to realize that.” You couldn’t believe what you were hearing. It felt like a fever dream - awful and amazing all at once. “Could you give me a chance to not be an idiot?”
What you should do was tell him no, that you had moved on, that he didn’t mean anything to you anymore.
But you had always been a terrible liar.
Instead of falling into his arms like you desperately wanted to, like the you of six months ago would have, you pressed a kiss to his cheek - a forgiveness and a dismissal all in one - and walked back to your table.
After exchanging goodbyes with your friends, you sent one last look Bucky’s way before heading home.
It had been a few days since you’d heard from Bucky, and it hurt more than you cared to admit.
Although you had wanted to forgive him and move on that night at the bar, a part of you held back. You wanted to make sure it wasn’t a result of him being drunk and lonely. And unfortunately it seemed your suspicions were right.
You’d spent the days since then with your phone always in arm’s reach, hoping he would call, but on the third day of nothing, you had accepted your fate.
Just as you were about to run a bath and block out the world for a little while, there was a knock at your door. Your heart jumped into your throat, but you shoved it back down along with the lingering hope that it would be Bucky on the other side.
Preparing yourself for anything, you swung the door open to the one person you wanted above all else - Bucky Barnes, weighed down with… grocery bags?
“Uh,” you weren’t quite sure what to say, and the sheepish smile on his face was one you had never seen before.
“Can I come in?” He asked, lifting up the bags. “These are pretty heavy.”
Wordlessly, you stepped aside, and he set the bags down on the counter. When you peaked inside them, you were surprised to find an array of breakfast foods. You sent him a questioning look, waiting for some sort of explanation.
“I spent the last few days thinking about how I could prove to you that I was serious. Probably have about 50 unsent texts. After everything, I thought I could start with breakfast. Low stakes, and you don’t have to decide anything right now. Just let me be here with you.”
Although you had decided the moment you saw him on your doorstep, you let him cook you breakfast. You let him open up in ways he never had before. You let yourself fall more in love with him, knowing he was doing the same with you.
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hertzwritings · 5 months ago
Exes and Oh’s
A/N: I fully blame @buckyshattergirl​ for this idea and for making my brain even hornier than usual – which is a feat in and of itself – but it’s okay because I love you and I’m really damn thankful that you’re such a cheerleader, my little pastry chef!
You can buy me a coffee here, and I’ll make you a personalized drabble, oneshot or multichapter fic – anything you want, with anyone you want, the sky is the limit!
I love y’all. Remember, feedback feeds the soul and my requests – and askbox – are always open – there’s no limits, because I am me and I have none.
Pairing: AU!Beefy!Bucky Barnes x Ex!Female Reader x Steve Rogers (mentioned)
Warnings: sort of enemies to lovers, ex-lovers, language, Beefy!Bucky, smut (minors DNI) p in v, unprotected sex, dirty talk, spitting, fingering, oral (m and f receiving), degradation, choking, spanking, slapping, praise-kink, daddy-kink, pet-names, more dirty talk, cream pie, slight cum-play, probably something else too
Wordcount: 3.123
Exes and Oh’s
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 The door opened with the sound of Steve’s voice, boisterous and loud – Bucky stood up from the couch of their shared apartment and plastered a smile on his face; Steve had brought his girlfriend home for the first time, while Bucky was there, and the normal niceties were required of him, or – according to Steve – Bucky would get his ass handed to him. He could damn well try.
“Stevie, I’m in the living room!” He shouted out and adjusted his posture, doing his best to not look so… Intimidating. Steve came into the room first, his smile wide and happy. “Behave, Buck.” He quickly shot out, before pulling a very familiar face out.
Y/N. Fucking Y/N.
Both of their faces flipped through several emotions, all from confusion to anger to what the fuck and well, look at that, when Steve, the oblivious idiot, introduced them. Y/N plastered the fakest smile on her face. “Hi, nice to meet you.” She said through clenched teeth. Ah, they were playing this game. “You too, doll.” He answered, the same strained smile she had, mirrored on his face. “Stevie, I’m going to get some air.” He said, walking to the yard in two strides – he breathed deeply and considered if it would totally wrong of him to just run away. Probably the mountains. That seemed like a good decision.
“James?” Her voice filled his head and he groaned, turning around. She stood with folded hands in front of the door, Steve running around inside; Bucky narrowed his eyes at her. “What the fuck are you doing here?” he spat. Her face went from somewhat amiable to straight angry. “What the fuck are you doing here?” she asked him, pointing a finger at him. “I live here!” he hissed. “What the hell are you doing fucking my roommate? Is this some insane plot to get back at me, or something?” She scoffed. “Wow, you think low of me, huh? I didn’t know, you asshole.” He chuckled darkly. “Sure, you didn’t. You haven’t heard my name mentioned once, and I haven’t told you about Steve for the year and a half we were together, right?” “Oh my god, he calls you Buck, which I thought was a dog! Do you have any idea how many Steve’s exists in the world?” She glared at him. “This is fucking unbelievable. I didn’t do anything to you, prick, I met Steve, I like him and that’s all there is.” He scoffed. “Sure thing, peach. I…” He ran a hand through his hair. There was some sense in what she was saying; Steve wasn’t an uncommon name, and it wasn’t until recently that Steve and Bucky had found a house together – when Bucky dated Y/N, he lived alone. “Oh, fuck. What are we going to do?” He mumbled. She stared at him. “What do you mean?” He rolled his eyes. “We can’t just go around pretending we don’t know each other, can we?” “Why not?” She said slowly. He raised his eyebrows at her. “We fucked religiously for almost two years, and you want me to… What, just pretend I don’t know you?” “We’ve been broken up for a year, James. You should be…” He growled. “If you’re going to say that I should be over it by now, go fuck yourself with a shotgun.” “Vivid imagery.” She said dryly. He stepped closer to her, his tongue darting out to wet his lips. “I’m doing this for Steve. Not you.” “I’m not asking you to do anything for me.” She said, looking up at him – he was towering over her, his chest heaving and a his fingers twitched, wanting to press her to her knees and take her mouth. “How long are you staying?” He asked. “Just so I know how much I have to avoid the house.” She rolled her eyes. “I’m here for a week. My place had water damage, they’re trying to fix it. It’s not my first choice, either, James.” “Fine. I’ll play nice, if you do.” She pouted a little – his lips twitched. He always loved riling her up, that little pout that came with her furrowed brows, made him go wild under normal circumstances. “I always play nice.” He scoffed and stepped past her, walking inside. Right before going inside, he turned to look at her. “You look really nice.” He said softly, sliding the door open.
Now he had to prepare himself for a week of torture when his ex, who he wasn’t over, fucked his best friend in their house. While she was wearing the dress, he had bought her.
It was as if she had only packed the shit, he had gotten her. Every time he saw her, he remembered something. That skirt? Had been hitched over her hips as he pounded her against a wall at a concert. That shirt? His fingers had played with her nipples during a movie, when she wore it the first time. That dress? There was a stain on it from her birthday-party, where he had fucked her mercilessly. it was like his own, personal hell.
Steve was oblivious to it, doting on Y/N and chatting Bucky up a storm; Bucky barely had the wherewithal to grunt a semi-decent response to whatever question Steve had asked, his eyes always drifting back to Y/N, who constantly averted his eyes. He thought he had just a little reprieve from her, when Steve and her went shopping, which gave him room to fucking breathe – her perfume lingered in his nose, his hair, his skin, and he couldn’t handle it. He took a shower, scrubbing his skin until it was angry and red, before wrapping a towel loosely around his waist. He ruffled through his shirts, sighing angrily when the one, he was looking for – his red Henley – wasn’t anywhere to be found. Fucking Steve.
He flung the door open to Steve’s room, a shriek meeting him instead of an empty room. “Fuck, shit, sorry!! I didn’t know you were changing!” He turned his back to an almost naked Y/N, who was breathing heavily. “What the hell are you doing in Steve’s room?” She shouted. “What are you doing here? I thought you were out with Steve!” He shouted back, clutching his towel to his body. “No, he had a meeting or something, so I stayed back.” Before he could answer, he heard the front door open and he panicked, going back inside Steve’s room, and shut the door. “Fuck, he’s coming… Just… Go in the closet, go, now!” He shoved her inside – causing her to squeal – and got inside himself, closing the door. His eye was poked by a hanger, and he swore under his breath.
It was tight. Maybe it wouldn’t have been if he wasn’t as big as he was, but nonetheless, he and Y/N were chest to – well, almost head – both breathing raggedly. Soft light shone in through the cracks and lit up her face. Her eyes were on his face. “Don’t fucking look at me like that.” He whispered harshly. “Don’t push me into a closet, asshole.” “What, you’d rather he found us together, you half naked and me just wearing a towel?” He asked dryly and saw her shoulders sag. “That’s what I thought.” She began to speak, but he clamped a hand over her mouth pushing her back against the wall of the closet. Steve’s voice rang out through the house, clearly looking for her. “Don’t. Make. A. Fucking. Sound.” He whispered. She whimpered under his hand and he had to restrain himself from letting a finger slide into her mouth. Her phone was still in her hand, and she quickly shot a message to Steve, a bad excuse as to why she wasn’t in the house and threw it on the ground. Her eyes found his again, wide and desperate. “Don’t…” he whispered, his willpower faltering for each second, they stood this close. He could hear Steve roaming around downstairs. “Don’t give me that look, I know what it means and we can’t.” She slowly wrapped her fingers around his wrist and removed his hand from her perfect lips. “No, we can’t.” she found his eyes again.
It was all it took.
He descended on her hungrily, his lips meeting hers with wild desperation, tongues gliding against each other – he dropped the towel and her nails clawed on his back, drawing angry lines down the naked skin. He hissed against her lips and caught her lower lip between his teeth, tugging it roughly. She mewled, and he grabbed her throat, cutting her sounds and air off. “Don’t make a fucking sound. You don’t want Steve to find you like this, do you?” He asked darkly. She shook her head as much as she could with him restricting her throat. “There’s my good girl.” She rolled her hips. “Fucking hell, peach…” He rumbled before kissing her again, feverish lips against hers, his fingers sliding to her panties; she whimpered brokenly as his fingers slid across the lace covering her wet pussy. “Oh, baby girl, you want me that bad, huh? You want my fingers here…?” He slid a finger underneath the waistband, his fingers dipping into her. She mewled and he tightened his grip on her throat, his hard cock nudging her skin. “All this for me?” She nodded as he began dragging his finger in and out of her, pumping her fast, his hips rutting; it was like a fucking drug to him, her warm skin and wet pussy. “Yeah, you want to be taken by your boyfriend’s roommate in his closet, don’t you?” He mumbled, adding another finger. She was meeting his thrusts with her hips, her hands clawing fruitlessly against his skin. “Hand.” He commanded, and she complied, holding her hand out to him; he spit into her palm and wrapped it around his throbbing cock, biting down on her neck to avoid moaning loudly. “Fuck, I love it when you stroke my cock…” He mumbled against her heated skin, his fingers working hard to get her to fucking cum; he craved it, wanted it more than air itself. “Fuck!” He grumbled, holding her chin between thick fingers and looked at her. “You’re mine, aren’t you? Yeah, you’ve always been mine, you fucking slut.” Her eyes rolled back. “Open your mouth.” She complied again, putty in his hands. He spat at her and she moaned when it hit her tongue. “You like getting finger-fucked by me when Steve’s looking for you, you dirty, fucking whore, do you?” She moaned a breathy yes. Her fingers moved fast around him, and he pulled out from her grasp with a grunt. “I need to taste you. Make a noise and I’ll fucking stop, you got it?” “Yes, daddy.” She whispered in the soft darkness. He groaned, going to his knees. “That´s daddy’s good girl, isn’t it?” he chuckled at her, his fingers pumping her dripping cunt, before his tongue licked a long stripe against her. He moaned at the taste, working his fingers quickly in and out of her, drinking her up as a thirsting man. Her hips grinded down on him, chasing her release. “You want to cum, baby girl? Want to cum for your daddy, huh?” He moaned against her dripping folds, speeding his fingers up. She was so fucking tight, he couldn’t see straight anymore. “Yeah, you cum, cum on my face, you dirty bitch.” He mumbled. She exploded on him, her whines soft as she grinded herself on his face, coming hard – he drank her up, not willing to spill a drop of her, as she rode her orgasm out. She clawed at him, fingers desperate, and he came to her lips again, kissing her hard; she moaned into the kiss as she tasted herself on his tongue. She tried to grab him and line him up, but he pulled back, panting. “Fuck, we can’t fucking do this.” She pouted. “Don’t give me that fucking face.” “You didn’t cum…” She whispered, eyes wild and darkened with lust. “I don’t give a shit. I’ll cover for you, get fucking dressed. We’re never talking about this again, got it?” She nodded breathlessly, and he left the closet, wrapping the towel around his waist again, cock sensitive and hard as a rock.
The day stretched on – way too long, for his liking – and Steve was none the wiser. Bucky had kept him entertained while Y/N snuck down the stairs, outside, just to go back inside and slamming the door. Steve had kissed the same mouth, that Bucky had just spit in, and it made him feel weirdly hot.
The darkness covered his room as he tried to sleep, the thoughts of Y/N fucking Steve in the room next door, made him burn with jealousy. he didn’t notice the door creaking open, or the soft footsteps on the floor, but he definitely noticed the dip in the bed as she crawled in. “What the fuck are you doing…?” He didn’t finish, her lips searing on his, as she crawled on top of him, kissing him like her life depended on it. He growled and slung his thick arm around her and flipped them, kissing her just as desperately. She moaned against his lips, her hips bucking up against him and he groaned at the feeling. “Why the fuck are you in here, peach?” he mumbled, lips finding the sweet spot on her neck. She exhaled breathily. “I wanted you…” She whispered in the dark. He closed his eyes. His willpower was nonexistent when it came to her. “You need to be fucking quiet, got it?” He bit her soft skin. She nodded eagerly. He shoved the thoughts and guilt for Steve down – that could be pulled out at his next therapy-session –
He adjusted so he could pull her underwear down roughly, before balling it up and pushed it into her mouth, muffling her sounds. “Steve is right next door, baby, you gotta be quiet.” She nodded. He was rock-hard, the feeling of her body underneath him… It was fucking insane.
He pulled himself out of his boxers, letting the tip of his cock slide against her slit. It was just as wet as before. “You’re such a fucking dirty whore, aren’t you?” He asked her through gritted teeth, saliva pooling in his mouth. He spat down at her dripping pussy, mixing the spit with her wetness with his tip. “You want me, peach? You want me to fuck you dumber, than you already are, huh?” he was fucking feral. “You’ve been thinking about this cock sliding in and out of you, fucking you senseless? Marking you?” He kept sliding against her, the tip catching her clit every once in a while, which made her whine. He slapped her cheek, the sound echoing around the room. “Don’t make a fucking noise, are you fucking crazy?” He grabbed her throat again, reveling in how fucking right it felt. “You like this, huh? Being choked and pinned to my bed while your boyfriend is sleeping right next door, don’t you?” She nodded desperately. He lined up with her hole, straining to keep himself straight. “You’re my fucking little whore, peach, dripping for me…” He whispered before pounding into her. He had to clamp down on his teeth so hard, he thought they might break; it was heaven to be inside of her again. She bucked her hips under him, trying to get him to move, but he slapped her cheek again, holding still. “You’re not in fucking charge, got it?” He whispered dangerously, and fuck, she was responding to him so fucking well. It was almost instinctual the way, they slid against each other. “Good girl, baby…” he began moving, not really caring about the bed creaking or how quickly this would go; he wanted to fuck her senseless. Her walls tightened against him, as he began relentlessly fucking her. “Fuck…” He mumbled; hand hard on her throat. “Look at you, taking me so well… You like it when my thick cock stretch your little pussy, huh? You love to feel me inside of you, you fucking whore…” He lost himself in the feeling of her. “Daddy…” Her voice was muffled, but it was clear what she was saying. He grinned, his hips jerking back and forward, and he let a hand fall to her inner thigh, spanking the soft skin until it burned under his hand. “Is my good, little girl going to cum? You want to cum over daddy’s cock, huh? You want to soak me?” He was mumbling the words, barely able to say them between grunts and moans. She nodded and whimpered behind the makeshift gag. “Cum on my cock, baby, cum for me. Now.” He growled, gripping her tightly and fucked into her, his own release close by. She cried out and tightened her legs, wrapping them around his waist as she came, moving to meet his thrusts. Fuck, it felt so good to feel her clench and writhe on him, his cock splitting her; she was so fucking tight, her wet pussy drawing him deeper. “Good girl, you’re my good girl, aren’t you…” He whispered as she bucked against him in a wild pace. “I’m going to cum, baby, get your legs off of me.” He whispered, voice strained. She shook her head and tightened her grip with her legs, and he slid deeper inside of her – he grunted, and his pace stuttered. “Fuck, no, peach, I’m not…” He moaned, his balls slapping against sweat-slicked skin. “I’m not fucking coming in you, I can’t…” She grabbed his neck and spit the gag out, pulling him down to meet her lips. “Fill me, please, daddy…” He couldn’t have stopped it, even if he had wanted to – he came hard, shooting hot spurts of cum inside of her, filling her with him; she mewled against his lips, his hand going from her throat to her hair, pulling it roughly. They both came down and she finally unwrapped her legs from him. “You’re fucking dangerous, peach.” He mumbled, biting the sensitive skin on her collarbone. “Says you.” She whispered back. “Go back to Steve. This never fucking happened, you got it?” She nodded and slipped out of bed, throwing her panties at him. He caught them with one hand, even in the darkness – she giggled a little. “A souvenir.” The door closed and he fell back against the mattress.
She slid into bed next to Steve, hugging him tightly – she was spent, her legs shaking. “You know, you could just tell him.” He whispered to her. She could hear the smile in his voice. “Well, where’s the fun in that?” She replied.
TAGLIST:  @acaceta​ @a-skov​ @angelmather1​ @cooldreamlandsandwich​ @est1887​ @enchantedbytomandhenry​ @fionnthebandersnacc​ @herroyalbubbliness​ @keiva1000​ @kebabgirl67​ @luclittlepond @mis-lil-red​ @multifanficdom @one-sweet-gubler​ @pandaxnienke​ @perfunctory-username69 @sleutherclaw​ @summersong69​ @spookyboogyuniverse​ @stardusted26​ @thereisa8ella​ @timetraveller4​ @thatonechickhere​ @themanfromu​ @thelastpyle​ @yourlocalhoney​ @wheretheriversrunintothesea​    @avengershoney​ @getthismoose​ @gloriuspurposee​ @sebastianstansassslaps @the-omni-princess​ @the-gods-gloted-but-they-burned​  c      
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youlightmeupfinn · 7 months ago
STEEL BLUE ➳ Bucky Barnes (part five)
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➳ a/n: this chapter 🥺💙
➳ summary: When you experience the most intense night of the summer alongside Bucky, who you nickname Steel Blue, you weren’t expecting to fall pregnant. When a positive pregnancy test meets your eyes a few days before school starts, you know it belongs to the man who you’d never see again. Until you walk into your Romanian Linguistics class and he’s your professor.
➳ pairing: Professor!Bucky Barnes x Female!Reader
➳ warnings: unprotected sex, unplanned pregnancy, slight age-gap, smut throughout book, angst
➳ warnings for this chapter: mentions of blood, drawing of blood, doctor’s offices, Millie Roberts (because her character is a whole warning 😂)
➳ dedicated to my beautiful best friend pitifulbaby 💙
➳ previous chapter | STEEL BLUE Masterlist | THE COLOR COLLECTION Masterlist | spotify playlist
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This class was brutal. It was the beginning of the week, you were somewhat able to keep foods down, but your anxiety was at an all-time high. After Millie exposed your secret to Bucky in the idiotic matter that she did, you couldn’t sleep. It was constant tossing and turning as you chewed nervously on your fingernails, your leg bouncing, the noises around you ear-piercing.
And now as you watched Bucky walk the floor while teaching, his eyes were staring at you the entire time. He had to know, right? He had to know that it was you carrying this child, especially if Millie said he knew it was her. Once you two got home and you were on the verge of choking your best friend, she told you what happened.
Apparently, just as she was slipping the envelope underneath the crack of his door, he opened it. Millie said her eyes were greeted with the sight of Steel Blue, his confused expression cascading his features. She said he picked up the envelope and she tried to take it back, but it was too late. Millie mentioned that she saw Sharon nestled in his office too, which gave her all the more incentive to release the news. She wanted Sharon to see it, too. And as she swallowed the fearful lump that formed in her throat, Millie darted for the exit.
And here you were. Bucky was eyeing you warily, your anxiety forcing you not to look up. Millie was giving you scratched-out notes on the progression, your foot aimlessly tapping against the carpeted floor where you sat. You knew you wouldn’t escape freely. You noticed his uneasy gaze the moment you walked into the classroom, now almost an hour ago. When the lesson had finally come to an end, you slowly packed your things up. Gently sliding the textbook into the back of your bag, Millie looked at you momentarily.
“He’s still looking,” She informed you. Groaning softly, you pushed your chair back and stood to your feet. Once you had your bearings, you saw the class dissipate. Making your way down the stairs with Millie tucked to your side, just as you passed Bucky’s desk, he cleared his throat.
“Can we talk?” He asked.
You looked up at Millie.
“Alone,” Bucky added seconds after.
Your best friend took her cue and flowed out the door with the river of students. Bucky followed her to the door and soon shut it. His hand braced the wooden frame, his head leaning forward. You stood there in silence, crossing an arm over your chest as you waited for whatever he had to say. Bucky’s arm tensed, veins bulging where his tattoos didn’t cover on his left arm.
“You’re pregnant?” He asked after the gruesome quiet.
Inhaling sharply, your eyes met his. Bucky zeroed his gaze on your frame, his eyes gravitating towards your belly which you instinctively covered.
Bucky walked over to the desk and picked up the familiar envelope. He pulled the sonogram pictures out, his eyes staring at the black and white photograph. His fingers roamed across the picture, his eyes meeting yours again.
“I’m sorry you found out like that. I wasn’t going to ruin your life.” You breathed out, which immediately cough this attention. Bucky’s eyebrows knitted together as he looked at you. Clearing his throat, he straightened out the hem of the navy blue tee he wore.
“So, you weren’t going to tell me?” He asked you.
You swallowed the lump that threatened to form.
“I saw Sharon,” You admitted. “I was going to tell you last week - but then I saw you and her. You looked happy.”
Bucky shook his head. “Y/N,” He sighed, running his fingers through his hair.
You blinked back the tears. “We didn’t ask for this, I know. But you have a happy life, and what we had - it was just a one-night stand. I’m not going to ruin what you have with her.”
Bucky listened to you, noting how your voice cracked at the very end.
“In my eyes, not telling me about our baby would have been the worst thing you could do. Listen, Sharon may be a part of my life, but that doesn’t mean I don’t want this, too.” He walked forward. You blinked, feeling as a tear slipped free. Wiping them away with your fingers, Bucky didn’t hesitate. He wrapped an arm around you, pulling you into his chest.
“I want this baby, Y/N,” He whispered. “I’m going to be there for you, both of you, every step of the way if you’ll let me.”
You sniffled, squeezing your eyes shut. You weren’t asking to date the man, but you wouldn’t mind the support system. Sure, Millie was great and all - but this child had a father. And he currently stood there holding you in his classroom.
“Thank you,” You whispered, lifting your head.
Bucky nodded, rubbing your shoulders. He still held the ultrasound picture in his hand with a smile. “They’re so tiny. It’s surreal, Doll,” He laughed quietly. “How far along are you?”
“Eleven weeks,” You sighed, his steel blue orbs widening at the revelation.
“Already?” He asked, jaw unhinged.
You laughed, nodding. “That’s what I said… I’m due February 25th.”
Bucky’s eyes widened as he stared at you. Holding you to him, his thumb grazed your shoulder.
“Who would’ve thought?” He chuckled quietly, shaking his head.
“Again, I’m sorry… Millie is different.” You apologized. Bucky smirked, turning his eyes down to you.
“You should’ve seen Sharon’s face when I opened the door. That one was just… Well, I was ignored for a while.” He sighed. “But that’s not your fault, so don’t think it is. Sharon and I weren't even together when I met you. I’ve known her for years through mutual friends, and I asked her out at the end of June.” He explained.
“Do you know how awkward it is to see her face on Tuesdays and Thursdays now?” You asked him. His blue orbs widened.
“Ooh, yeah, that doesn’t sound fun.”
Silence brewed between the two of you. “Could I come to the next appointment?” He asked quietly.
You picked your head up to stare at him with a small smile.
“Of course, you can. You’d certainly be better than Millie, but don’t tell her I said that.” You giggled, causing Bucky to smile at you. He crossed his heart.
“I won’t tell a soul,” He winked.
The two of you shared another look, your smile spread wide.
And so the journey begins.
➳ tagging: @pitifulbaby @highly-functioning-mitochondria @l0st-in-reality @goksturges @asgardianprincess1050 @buckybarnesandmarvel @bbgem329 @melissad1974 @terrormonster55 @joannahakala @t-wordy-kk @madasaloki @cjand10 @nash-dara @babebr @danielle-leah1997 @janita @queenofshinigamis @drunk-hamlet @buckybarnesandmarvel @waiting-for-cas-to-save-me @stinkerbelle007 @loki-lover23567 @buxkybarnez @stoneyjonesstacey26 @eclecticpatrolroadlawyer @sophie-101 @chiyongberry @needyghosts @justsomebodyweird @connie326 @speedy-object-dream @clestieloakenshield @findthebeautyinbreakdowns @lakamaa12 @pineprincess @sunflowerfive @winterschildren17 @versacebutera @sebastiansstanswife @marvelouslovely-barnes @fangirl1399 @ashdoctor @dangerdolns @thegirlnextdoorssister @minbeatriz16 @buggy14 @sebsgirl71479 @traceyaudette @tiredmamamac
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urmommies--girl · 6 months ago
Sweating in the Sheets - N.R x B.B x reader
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Pairing: Soft Dom! Natasha Romanoff x reader x Hard Dom! Bucky Barnes
Warnings: smut, titty sucking, fingering, heavy degradation, mommy and daddy kink, vaginal penetration, oral (F receiving), way too many pet names, threesome, established poly relationship, ddlg content, thigh slapping, praise kink, orgasm denial,
Words: 1.2k
A//N: I can't believe i haven't reposted this yet it was my first fic to ever blow up
You lay fully naked on Bucky’s bed while his hands moved up and down your body— Your head rested on Natasha’s lap while she stroked your hair back lovingly, “Don’t tease, Buck. She’s been so good for us.” Natasha hummed, the super soldier rolled his eyes before grazing the pads of his fingers over your clit— you gasped and reached up to grab the back of Natasha’s neck desperately, “Mommy-“ you whined, She smiled and pecked your lips, “Tell Daddy what you want.” She instructed, your eyes flicked down to the male between your legs; “Please daddy. Want your mouth.” You begged, he raised an eyebrow, “Where do you want my mouth, Doll?” He asked, “M-my pussy.” You whimpered, Bucky dipped his tongue to your clit, experimentally. “There, sweetheart?” He hummed, you nodded quickly and released a loud moan, your hands flying to Bucky’s hair.
His tongue lapped through your slit deliciously, “Oh- Mommy-“ You moaned, tugging at Natasha’s shirt, “What do you want, baby?” She questioned with a soft smile, “Want- Mhm-“ You panted heavily— Bucky pulled away much to your dismay and slapped the inside of your thigh; “Tell her what you want, slut.” He spat, you whimpered, “M-mommy- wanna- wanna suck on your- p-pretty titties.” You sniffled, Natasha petted your face softly before grabbing the hem of her shirt.
Before she managed to get it over her head, Bucky stopped her, “Make her beg.” He sneered, a greedy smirk evident on his face, your eyes widened and you looked up to Natasha for support but she had an expecting grin on her face as well— you had no issue with begging but you weren’t exactly sure what you were actually begging for; the words you’d said before had faded completely out of your mind. “P-please mommy. Please, wanna be good- wanna-“ You begged incoherently but interrupted by Bucky’s fingers sliding into your waiting hole— Natasha removed her shirt above you while you were distracted by Bucky’s fingers consistently penetrating your vagina.
Natasha brought your attention back with a light tap on the side of your face, your glossy eyes connected with her green ones before you looked down at her bare chest, your pupils going wide with excitement; finally she closed the distance between you and her breasts, to which your mouth latched around her breasts, sucking gently.
Bucky’s fingers left your hole much to your dismay as you whined in protest— another sharp hit landed on the inner flesh of your thigh, “Don’t whine. It’s pathetic.” Bucky sneered, “You know, you don't even deserve my cock, fuckin’ bitch”, Bucky discarded his belt somewhere before pulling both his boxers and pants down at the same time. Your heart rate picked up with both fear and anticipation but you refused to let go of Natasha’s breasts.
He lined his cock up with your entrance and pumped himself a few times— “Go easy on her Buck. She's done so good!" Natasha both warned Bucky and praised you.
"she has done good, hasn’t she?" He smiled sinisterly, “She’s a good little slut.” His hips rammed into yours in one swift motion, his cock gliding through your wet folds with ease.
His thrusts were rough and hard and his pace was quick and brutal. You reached up to grab Natasha’s breasts for support and comfort. As soon as Bucky caught what you were doing, he laughed menacingly, “Why don't you make mommy feel good too? Let her ride your slutty face. You’d fuckin’ love that wouldn’t you?" He taunted— You whine as Natasha forces you to pull away from her breasts— she didn’t take her nipples away from you without leaving a gift first; leaving a soft kiss on your nose before lifting herself up and pressing her pussy above your open mouth.
Natasha began to grind her hips down against your tongue and you reached your hands up to knead the flesh of her thighs, Bucky grabbed your hands away and held them together roughly— as much as the grip was painful you were grate fun you at least had something to hold. Something to keep you secure.
Bucky’s cock was long and thick; you could feel him press against the walls of you stomach, almost as if wanting to get out; you wanted so desperately to scream but at the same time, you needed focus on making your mommy feel good.
Your tongue glided through her folds until you got your desired reaction when you pressed against her clit— she let out a pornographic moan as she rode your face faster and faster. Your mouth was licking and swallowing all of her juices that dripped from her sopping cunt; with the rough pounding of Bucky’s cock and the delicious taste of Natasha’s pussy on your tongue, made for an incredible sense of pleasure that caused loud rumbles of pleasure to bellow from your throat.
The bruising grip on your hands fell as Bucky re-purposed his thrust to his own pleasure and used your own pussy as if it were a fleshlight. You bucked your hips upwards at the abuse and soft whimpers vibrated through to the beautiful woman above you. Her wanton moans were almost enough to make you forget about how hard Bucky was pounding you. almost.
Bucky pushed your legs upwards to get a deeper angle and continued to pound you. You felt his cock twitch inside you and you knew his high was close— But so was yours. Your release grew closer and closer as your pussy tightened around his length.
One simple rule had managed to slip your mind as your brain had focused on two things; making Natasha feel good and your own orgasm.
You had forgotten to ask.
Bucky felt your walls clench around his throbbing cock without hearing any words from you; not even a muffled ask. He pulled out instantly— leaving you empty and sobbing desperately as he took away your release.
Bucky didn’t let the lack of your warmth stop his own pleasure as he continued to pump his length quickly— Natasha did the same; chasing her release as she continued to use your mouth for pleasure.
A warm liquid spilled from above you as Natasha spilled her seed down your throat— through your fit of sobs you managed to swallow every ounce of her liquid before she removed herself of your face. You inhaled a breath of the warm sex filled air, the moment her heat left your mouth.
You gazed down at the super soldier that was settled at the base his bed where his long cock was pumping in his hand— his head was thrown back and a loud grown spilled from the male as he released on your lower abdomen.
A moment later your two dominants calmed down from their highs before their eyes trailed down your nude body— “Poor thing.” Natasha cooed, wiping the tears from you eyes, “Oh pet… did you forget the rules again?” Bucky’s tone was mean and condescending, “Y-yes- b-but I’m sorry- please- please make me cum.” You babbled, he pouted at you, “Oh no baby.. you forgot. That’s on you.” He accused, “You don’t get to cum. Only mommy and daddy do tonight.” He taunted; another sob broke from your throat as you gazed up at Natasha for some sympathy, “M’sorry baby.” She caressed your cheek softly, “Dumb. Little. Baby.”.
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the-writer-soldier · 6 months ago
Final Exam
Pairing : Professor!Bucky x Student!Female!Reader
Title : Final Exam
Warnings : smut, fingering, oral (f receiving), use of pet names, age gap (reader in her early 20s, Bucky is 35), professor and student relation, breeding kink, mentions of Wanda x Vision and Steve x Sam,
Word count : 2810
Author’s note : This is my first time writing smut so this is not perfect. If you have advice don’t hesitate to send me a message or leave a comment. Also, English isn’t my first language so I apologize if there are some mistakes.
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6 pm. Finally, it was time to know if you validated your year. The results were online. You refreshed the page ten minutes before the official time to be sure that you’ll be among the first to know.
You entered your login and your password as fast as you could… maybe too fast because it indicated “Your password is incorrect”. You took a deep breath, hands shaking, and tried again, slowly this time.
Your password is incorrect.
Okay, maybe you were too nervous and made a mistake. Everything was fine. Maybe it was a bug, too many people on the website at the same time. You convinced yourself with that. You tried again, but this time you used the eye icon next to your password to see it : no mistake. Enter.
Your password is incorrect.
“My password is not fucking incorrect you fucking piece of shit!”
You were sure that it was the right one. It has to be because you couldn’t change it. That’s what they said at the beginning of the year : “don’t lose it, you’ll need it to have access to your results and you won’t have another one. If it happens, you’ll have to wait one week.”
Seriously, fuck them. What was that kind or organisation? You didn’t want to wait a whole week. You needed to know now. You tried again and again and again, but no : still this stupid message. You started to cry and almost threw your computer away.
It was 7 pm now. Your phone vibrated : it was Wanda, your best friend, calling. You answered.
“Boo! I got it!”, she almost screamed. You could hear the happiness in her voice. “What about you?”
You sighed and explained the problem.
“Shit!”, she said. “Honestly, I don’t think you should worry. You’re a great student, you worked so hard. I’m sure you passed.”
“But I need to know. I need to be sure!”
“I know Boo, I know. Listen, I have to go. Vision invited me to the restaurant to celebrate. Call Mr Barnes, he is your referent professor, I’m sure he’ll help.”
“Yeah, I’ll try that. Thanks Wanda, and congratulations. I’m proud of you!”
“I’m proud of you too. Love ya’”
“Love you too.”
Wanda was right, Mr Barnes would help you. He was always so nice with you. Always here when you needed help for your homework or when you were down. Sometimes, you even stayed late at his house, and you both ate fast food while watching a movie or showing him some of your favourite video games. Not the kind of relationship that students had with their professors, but apart from Wanda and Yelena, you didn’t have many friends. So you were glad to have Mr Barnes.
You could even say that you developed a crush on the man. He was really handsome, tall, smart, funny but also reserved. For that part, he was like you. Wanda often teased you about that. Yelena, your other best friend, said that you could soon fuck him as you wouldn’t be his student anymore.
Honestly, you’d love that. You’d love to bend over his desk, him fucking and spanking you. How many times had you dreamt of him eating your pussy after studying late at night? When he let you eat at his place, you wished you were his dessert.
Taking a deep breath, you took your phone and called him. Your hands were shaking while you waited. What were you going to say? That you were so stupid you probably wrote the wrong password? He’ll probably tell you to wait one week, “no choice, Miss Y/N”.
“Y/N?” You were brought back to reality by the sound of his voice.
“Mr Barnes! Sorry, my mind is everywhere at the same time.”
“Don’t worry, I’m used to that now”, he chuckled. “So, did you call to announce something great?” You could hear him smile. How were you going to present your problem?
“Well… I have nothing to announce… my password doesn’t work… so, I wondered if you could help?” You were really nervous.
“You forgot your password?”
“No! I wrote it on my phone, I tried a thousand times but it kept saying your password is incorrect!”
“Okay, stay calm Y/N! I can’t do anything, you’ll have to wait until next week.” Fuck, you knew it. “Come at home, I’ve just bought Little Nightmares, we’ll play. And I’ll try to send some mail for you. But, if you have something planned for tonight I’ll understand.”
“No, nothing. It will help to play, I wanted to buy that game for so long. Thank you so much Mr. Barnes! I’m on my way. I should be there in 30 minutes.”
“Waiting for you, doll.” You hang up without noticing the pet name, too excited that he could tell you your results.
Bucky POV
“You’ve really done this? I thought you were joking?”
“Of course not, I really want her. Come on Steve, it’s no big deal.”
“So, you gave her a wrong password just to bang her?”
“What? No! I want her, like really. I have wanted her since I met her three years ago. Now that her studies have ended, I’m no longer her professor, so we can be together.”
“Well, let’s hope she’ll never find out or you may have problems.”
“That’s what you're my lawyer, so I’ll never have problems. Now, please, go away, she’ll be here soon.”
“Right! Sam is waiting for me. He made a reservation in our favourite restaurant.”
“Say hello to Samuel for me!”
“He hates when you call him by his full name!”
“I know! And see you soon for a double date!”
He couldn’t wait for you to be here. He prepared everything so you’ll relax. He really couldn’t wait to introduce you to his friends. He just had to be more patient or you’ll freak out. Fortunately, you already felt comfortable with him and trusted him.
It was the end of May but this night was really cold. Fortunately, you didn’t have to wait too long before the next bus. You sat near the door, sent a message to Mr. Barnes, and opened a book. It was The Lord of the Rings, he gave it to you when you told him that you’ve only seen the movies. You were so deep into the story that you almost missed your stop.
You had your backpack with you. You just couldn’t go out without it, even if there wasn’t much in it : your computer, chargers and another book. You got off of the bus, the cold air of the evening contrasting with the warmth of the vehicle. But something helped you to forget that you were freezing : Mr Barnes was there, waiting for you with his black leather jacket and his beautiful smile.
He insisted on taking your backpack. You both walked under the crescent moon in a comfortable silence. His presence was so reassuring at the moment that you forgot about wanting to know the results of your final year. It was cold but the sky was clear and filled with stars. Your shoulder brushed his left arm from time to time, and you noticed how tall he was.
The walk lasted less than five minutes. Mr. Barnes owned a house in a quiet neighbourhood. It was big enough for a small family, but he lived alone. One day you asked him why he needed a big house if he had no wife or girlfriend. “I bought it for the right person even if I’m still waiting for her”, he answered with a wink.
The house was very warm. There were not a lot of decorations on the walls, just some photos of him with his family and friends. When you entered, there were two rooms : one on your left, the living-room, and the other one on your right, the dining room with an open kitchen. The stairs were in front of you, and next to them a corridor that led to the veranda. It became your favourite room when, one night, you had to stay late to work with Mr. Barnes and you sat on the rocking-chair to admire the stars.
You noticed that the TV was on. It showed the game menu of Little Nightmares, just like he promised. There was also a big blanket on the couch and some chips on the table. A wonderful odour emanated from the kitchen. You recognized it
“I made your favourite pizza,” Mr Barnes said.
“That means you have bad news for me…”
“What makes you think that ?” he asked, taking your jacket.
“Relaxing night with homemade pizza. That is something you prepare to help someone going through a hard moment.”
“Well, I want you to relax, that’s true. You can't access your results and I know it is stressful for you. But, I sent an email, and I’m waiting for the answer. So, for now, I want you to spend a great night with me.”
You wanted to cry. But he gave you the puppy look and it helped to relax. As answer, you took off your shoes and removed your sweatshirt and sat on the couch. You really needed a night like this. A part of your mind told you that it was a bit weird to have that kind of moment with your professor, but you quickly silenced it.
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You discovered that Bucky (he insisted that you called him that) was a great cook : the pizza was delicious. You weren’t a big eater so you didn’t finish the pizza. Bucky and you played for a moment while sharing jokes. If you died in the game, you passed the controller to him, and he did the same. Bucky was right : it helped you to relax, and you soon forgot about your incorrect password and results.
You look at his metal arm. Staring was the right word. It was pretty rare to see his left arm. He never told you what happened and you never asked. Whoever created the prosthesis was a real artist. It even had a star near the shoulder.
“It happened while I was in the army”, he explained, interrupting your thoughts.
“I’m sorry, you don’t have to explain”, you avoid his eyes, ashamed.
“Hey”, he said, taking your chin, it's fine. I’m fine.” You felt that he was deeply hurt. That he had been through things you couldn't even imagine. You wanted to take him in your arms. “It happened a long time ago. It’s over. Now, I’m here with you.”
His metal hand on your cheek, your eyes in his blue ones, you felt your heart beating faster and faster. You put your hands on his face and kissed him. It was something Bucky didn’t expect. He thought it would be him making the first step. But he was pleasantly surprised and kissed you back. Suddenly, you stopped, your eyes opened in shock at what you just did.
“Mr Barnes, I’m so sorry. It was inappropriate, I.. I should go home.”
You wanted to leave, but he put you back on his lap.
“It’s fine Y/N”, he whispered. “I want you to stay, please.”
“Bucky, you're my professor…” Your forehead was on his.
“I’m sure you passed, which means I’m not anymore.”
Fuck, you really wanted to stay. He was there, holding you and looking at you like you were the most important person in the world. Like you were his universe. You sighed, standing up and taking his hand. It wasn’t necessary to say a word, he understood.
He stood up, and again you noticed how tall he was. You couldn’t wait to be in his arms. And liked he heard your thought he took you, your legs around his waist. He kissed you with passion. He waited too long for this and wasn’t ready to let you go. Your hands were in his hair. His lips never left yours, even when you were in the stairs going to his bedroom.
He put you down, his eyes full of desire. He took off his shirt and you could admire his sculpted body. You probably stared too long because he lifted your chin and kissed you softly.
“I’m all yours baby girl.”
You started kissing his body, your hands touching his abs, and going slowly to his pants. Your hands were shaking : you were a bit scared but also very excited, making it almost impossible to remove his pants. He took your hands, kissing them.
“Don’t worry baby, I’m here. I will never hurt you. If you’re too scared or want to stop, just say ‘winter’. Okay?” You nodded. “Good. Now, I don’t want to wait much longer so I’m gonna take care of our clothes. Then I’ll tie you to the bed and make you forget your name.”
Again you nodded. God, you even moaned, making him chuckle. He took your tank top off and noticed that you had no bra on. He started sucking on your left nipple and touching you through your pants. It wasn’t enough for you but also for him. He got rid of your pants and soaked panties.
A second later, you were on the bed. Bucky took one of his ties from his drawers. He put your arms above your head and, as promised, tied you to his bed. Now, you couldn’t escape him. And that turned you on. This and the way he was looking at you.
“So much to touch”, he said while playing with your nipple. “So much to explore”, he said, inserting one finger in you, making you gasp and moan. You needed more. “So much to kiss” he continued taking your clit in his mouth.
You wanted to touch him but the only thing you could do was roll your hips. Damn, you really never felt like that. Or maybe you haven’t been touched for too long? No, it wasn’t that. No one had ever taken care of you like that, they only cared about their pleasure and not yours. But Bucky, he made you feel so important. And the night just started.
He added another finger. You were drenching and couldn’t wait to have him inside you. You begged him not to stop. You wanted more. You started feeling something you only felt while playing with your toys : you were about to cum. The first time it would happen with someone. But when you felt you were about to explode, Bucky stopped.
“Not now, baby.”
He stood and removed his pants and boxer. And you saw how huge it was. He was on you, whispering that you will take it like a good girl. He entered you in one thrust, making you scream his name.
“Scream my name, doll”, he said, letting less than a second to adjust to his size before pounded into you. “You’re so tight. Fucking made for me.”
Bucky dreamt about this moment since the day he met you. A new student in his history class. So shy, smart and nice. He wanted you for himself. Wanted to ruin you. Seeing you like this, naked, taking his cock and screaming his name made him so happy. But what would make him even happier would be you being pregnant with his child.
“More… please,” he heard.
He idin”t need to hear it twice. He went harder, deeper, hitting spots your toys never touched. He played with your clit with his metal hand. It was too much for you, you wouldn’t last long, he could feel it. So he untied you. You put your hands on his back as if you were going to fall.
“Gonna cum, baby girl?” You nodded, unable to say a word, too deep in your pleasure. “Me too, you’re so good. Think, I’m gonna cum inside, giving you a baby.”
“Bucky, please!”
“Please what? Better respond if you wanna cum? He added when you answered only by moaning.
“Fuck… Please.. I.. I want your baby!” You screamed while your orgasm hit you hard.
That was all it took for him to follow you.
“Fuck… Y/N”, he lay down on you.
You both stayed silent for a few minutes. You played with his hair and caressed his back. He felt so great right now. But he was also scared that you’ll leave.
“I can’t let you go now, you know that”, he whispered.
“I don’t think I want to go. And you know Mr Barnes, I still remember my name”, you teased.
“Then I hope you’re ready for the night”, he answered, kissing you and starting moving again inside you.
At this moment, you forgot about the incorrect password, about failing or passing the year. You were just happy. And just like Bucky, you couldn’t wait to see what was coming next for the two of you.
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