#bucky barnes reader inserts
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just wanna be with you - bucky barnes smut
The one where Bucky’s your roommate
Warnings: smut, name-calling
Y/N’s P.O.V.
“Could you maybe keep it down a bit?” I winced, almost startled by Bucky’s sudden arrival. I had no idea he’d be back so soon, he usually spent way longer at the gym than just an hour. But maybe Steve had other plans and forced him to stop exercising and do something else for once.
It was a Friday night, after all. That was why Wanda and Natasha were on our tower floor, drinking and chatting while some pop music played in the background and I tried to find the courage to get ready.
“Of course, Buck. Sorry about it.” He shrugged but gave me a small smile like he meant to say that he knew I meant no harm. I gave him a smile of my own in return, and he stared at me for a few seconds before disappearing inside his bedroom, closing the door behind him.
I released a breath I didn’t know I was holding. Although our relationship was much better than when he first arrived at the tower, he still kept himself at a distance that was too uncomfortable for someone who was supposed to be my roommate.
I got it, though. I was aware of what he had been through. It couldn’t be easy, and I was determined to make him feel as welcome as possible in our little busy lives as the Avengers, but with his hiding and avoidance, my objective became harder and harder to accomplish each day.
“Still cold?” Nat asked, easily understanding what was going through my mind. I nodded automatically, before frowning in guilt at my best friend. I didn’t want to give off the wrong impression. He really wasn’t that bad, and she could be so overprotective…
“I mean, he’s just… it’s just so… he’s just so hard…” I should have expected the outcome, but it still managed to surprise me with just how childish my assassin/spy best friend could be.
“Ooooh…” A snort escaped me, despite my best wishes. She was just too much - most times. Rolling my eyes, I got up to start fixing some of the mess we’d left as my mind became filled with thoughts about Bucky. It’d become a constant ever since we met.
“To understand, Nat. Don’t get any ideas.” She just chuckled to herself, taking another shot before winking at Wanda.
“Too late.”
Bucky’s P.O.V.
I groaned for what felt like the millionth time that evening, unable to find any sleep. It was already hard with everything that went on in my head all the time, but now that I had this roommate to distract me, it wasn’t the nightmares that stopped me from relaxing.
It was her. It had been like this ever since we met when I became hypnotized by her soft eyes and how clearly she showed her emotions through them. Where everyone saw me with suspicion or pity, she met me with curiosity and kindness, and I was obsessed.
I even asked Steve if there was some way to live close to her, and so we ended up becoming roommates. But if I thought this would help me open up to her, it only made everything more difficult.
She was just too perfect. The smell of her perfume and the warm fog from her scalding showers always took me by surprise, prompting my member to harden inside my pants.
That was a reaction I’d become too used to being subjected to when around her. It happened when our hands met by accident, for even just a second, the softness of her skin contrasting to the feeling of my cock against my thigh.
It happened when she looked up at me from under her eyelashes, an expression so soft and coy that it was impossible to react any differently to her innocence.
It even happened when she addressed me with that soft voice, tone reaching me much like a caress in itself, immediately soothing the uncomfortable, instinctive answer my body wanted me to suffer through.
So there I was, in love or lust with her, and unable to express it. The fact that I had to start avoiding her so she wouldn’t notice my ever-present boner definitely didn’t help my case, and still I tried to be as great a roommate as I could to her.
Like when she was leaving for that party tonight and I was surprised by her dress for the evening, staring hard at the way it hugged her curves and showed just enough skin to leave me wanting more.
I wanted to tell her not to go. I knew what she was looking for out there, and I wanted to tell her she could have it right here. I’d give her anything, she just had to ask for it.
But I couldn’t. So I resorted to wishing her a good night, knowing at least once she was out, I’d be able to release some of the tension she provoked inside of me.
“Bucky, are you okay? Did you call for me?” I hadn’t realized just how loud I’d been until she opened the door to find me naked in bed, grasping my cock in my hand. It pulsed in time with my heartbeat, and it somehow had to justify why I was having such a hard time finding words to explain what was happening to her.
She looked so pretty, staring at me with wide eyes and an open mouth, all dolled up and ready for a night out with her friends. All I could think of was to somehow justify it with, “I-I couldn’t sleep.”
Her sharp inhale resonated in the room, taking over the sound of my own heartbeat as I remained frozen and her eyes remained on my dick. Then, she looked over her shoulder and announced, “Go on without me, I think I’m staying in tonight.”
The sound of the door slamming behind her startled me, taking me out of my state of shock. She walked with confident steps towards my bed, climbed it and started crawling in my direction until she was standing between my spread legs, her eyes fixated on my hard cock as she licked her lips.
“That looks so good,” she commented like she was talking about a popsicle I was sucking on or anything else rather than my aching cock which throbbed in my hands as she tilted her head and looked me in the eye. “Can I taste it?”
A shiver went down my spine, my body, at last, comprehending this turn of events it never anticipated being a part of before. Since my brain was still having a hard time understanding that she was really here, that she really wanted me, I couldn’t help but confirm, “You want to have sex with me?”
The edges of her lips curled up, her hands reaching out to cover mine, restarting the movements on my cock. “Desperately,” was her response, right as I started panting from the stimulation on my member.
“I actually bought this dress hoping it would make you want to throw me I this bed and have your way with me.” What was going on? I couldn’t believe this was happening, and the fact that she didn’t stop touching me wasn’t helping one bit.
“But I thought,” I choked up as she leaned down to lick a stripe up my dick. “I thought you were going out?” It was the wrong thing to say, I knew. What kind of a person has the woman of their dreams in bed with them and feels the need to remind her she was supposed to be doing something else?
“Do you want me to leave?” She teased, thankfully not at all bothered by my dumb question. “’Cause I think I’m right where I should be.” Speechless, I watched as she pulled away from me and pulled her dress over her shoulders, leaving her completely nude.
“Touch me, Bucky,” she ordered, and I don’t think I’d ever been as happy to follow an order in my entire life. She really was here, in my bed. Telling me to do naughty, naughty things to her. “You have no idea how wet I am.” But I was eager to find out.
“And I want it rough.” That’s when my heart skipped a beat, a hungry smile painting my lips as I adjusted in bed to hover over her.
“Oh, you want to be my little bitch…” I shoved her legs open, groaning at the sight of the wetness that waited for me. “Is that it?” She nodded, and I leaned down to take a lick at her spread cunt.
It tasted like honey, and I was instantly addicted.
“And here I was, thinking you were such an innocent little thing.” She whimpered at that, spreading her legs further, as if to say ‘look at me, I’m as far removed from innocent as possible’.
“Stay still,” I ordered, slapping her cunt and groaning again at the sight of it clenching. “Let me look at you.” My beard tickled her as I slurped her juices, but she obeyed me and didn’t complain.
“Such a good girl,” I praised because she deserved it, and the sight of her melting against my sheets had my cock twitching against my stomach.
“Fuck, I need to be inside of you.” When she nodded eagerly, hands pulling me up to kiss me despite her juices still on my face, I knew I could slip my cock inside of her, and so that’s what I did.
“Such a fucking slut,” I name-called her then. I couldn’t believe that I was inside of her, that I had her on my bed, spread open just for me. “Such a stupid, wanton slut.”
Her moans let me know that she enjoyed everything that I was doing to her, but I wanted more. Gentle wasn’t going to cut it for what I needed from her.
Turning her around, I had her on her hands and knees, holding onto the frame of the bed as I pummeled into her.
“Is that what you wanted?” I yelled over the sound of our bodies together. “To be fucked like the slut that you are?”
“Yes!” She yelled back right as the bed broke underneath us, sending us into a fit of giggles even though I didn’t stop moving.
“Well, I’m gonna cum inside of you, slut,” I warned, feeling her channel contract around me, announcing her orgasm. “I’m gonna leave you dripping with me, like the whore that you are.”
She screamed as I thrusted inside of her a few more times, and then I let myself fall on top of her - being careful not to crush her as we cuddled naked on the broken bed.
The peaceful atmosphere of the night was interrupted by my phone ringing. “What do you mean workout?” I all but yelled at Steve, who was on the other side of the line. “I’ve been exercising all night. Fuck off.”
#my fics#bucky barnes smut#bucky barnes#smut#bucky barnes x reader#bucky barnes reader#bucky barnes reader insert#bucky barnes reader inserts#bucky barnes fanfic#bucky barnes fic#bucky barnes oneshot#bucky barnes one-shot
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Faking It
Pairing: College Athlete!Bucky x Reader
Summary: Bucky Barnes was in love with his girl—disgustingly, annoyingly so. Enough to start fights on the ice just to make sure he saw her after a game.
Word count: 3k
Warnings: This is FLUFF!! With HOCKEY MAN
a/n: This was originally something completely different but then I hated it so now it's all fluff and now I do not hate it. Pleaseeeee let me know what you think and if you enjoy it!! I love you thanks for reading ❤️❤️❤️
Masterlist
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“Jesus Christ, Buck. Again?”
Bucky grinned, split lip tightening uncomfortably. When he turned to his captain, he had the gall to act oblivious. “What do you mean, captain?”
Steve gave him a disapproving look. “Give it up, pal. There was no need to pick a fight with that guy and you know it.”
“He was talking shit about the team!”
“They’ll always be a player talking shit about the team.”
“Then why’re you breathing down my neck right now, huh? We won. Be happy, Cap,” Bucky encouraged, slinging an arm over his shoulder. Steve raised a brow back at him but was clearly fighting back a smirk. Bucky could tell by the way his eyes lifted, contrasting his deep—albeit fake—frown.
In truth, Bucky had been looking for a fight. He’d been looking for a plethora of fights since the start of the season, and was usually quite successful with his venture. It had garnered him quite the reputation, but where the crowd saw it as a short-fuse on a large man, Steve saw it for what it really was.
An opportunity to see you.
And while Steve could appreciate the dedication, it made one of his best players ride out unnecessary time in the penalty box.
“I am happy. Just not with you,” Steve clarified, knocking Bucky’s arm away.
Bucky let out a sound close to a scoff. “Even with my extra time in the sin bin I still helped carry. It’s just part of the game, Steve. Gotta protect the team’s pride.”
“Yeah,” Steve drawled sarcastically, stopping in front of the locker room doors. “I’m sure that was your reasoning. What was it last game? Someone said something about your ma?”
“Hey, he did.”
“They always do.”
Heavy footsteps created a commotion in the hall, the rest of the team finally catching up with the pair. They funneled their way into the room for showers and a fresh change of clothes, and Steve stood with his crossed arms leaning against the wall, somehow still directing an admonishing look towards Bucky amidst the crowd. Bucky did his best to look baffled by the unspoken accusation, but then Sam Wilson passed by and Bucky’s ploy was disintegrated.
“Hey man,” Sam greeted, slapping a friendly hand against Bucky’s arm as he passed. “You let someone beat the shit out of you again so you could go see your girl?”
Bucky’s scoff returned, but this time Steve was having none of it. He kicked off of the wall and went to follow the rest of the team into the locker room. Bucky watched with a grimace, not only caught, but put on display.
“You know,” Steve called over his shoulder, not expecting Bucky to follow. “You’re dating the girl now. You don’t gotta keep up with this whole schtick.”
“I don’t have a schtick,” he called back. At the responding laugh from Steve, Bucky yelled, “I don’t!” but no one was listening to him. Or believing him.
But fine. If his schtick involved you, in any capacity, Bucky would admit to having one.
Some of what Steve said was right. Bucky was dating you now. You were his girl and that would imply total access to you all the time, whenever he wanted. He didn’t need to pick fights or feign injuries anymore (the latter never really worked anyways), because he had a key to your apartment. And you were in his bed more weekends than not.
But, damn, were you busy right now.
Bucky had never really considered how much schooling went into becoming a physical therapist until he met you. You were typically swamped with papers and tests and requests from Dr. Cho, but this past month had been exponentially worse thanks to finals. He had seen you about once a week if he was lucky, and that was a generous estimation. Add your crazy schedule to the alarming amount of away games he had over the past few weeks and he was champing at the bit to see you.
Bucky just prayed it was you in the training room today and not Dr. Cho. His odds were pretty favorable considering the team’s main trainer didn’t usually stick around after games if there were no major injuries, but there was always the off chance she let her interns go home early. But, knowing you, you would be in that room until the rink lights went off.
God, he loved you. Every overworked, high-strung bit of you.
He even loved the scolding look you shot him as he pushed open the training room doors, his bruises and cuts on full display. You dropped the pen you were tapping against an overflowing notebook and rocketed out of your rolling stool, and Bucky adored the way you stomped over to him, biting the inside of your cheek to stop the curse you clearly wanted to let free.
“Hey, baby,” Bucky smiled, this time ignoring the sting in his lip. “Funny seeing you here.”
You huffed, bringing careful fingers up to his chin. “Not very funny,” you mumbled. “Not when you look like someone hit you with their car.”
Bucky let you fuss for a moment, following your touch as you turned his head back and forth and examined his split knuckles. This was your job, so obviously he let you do it, but he enjoyed watching you. So he didn’t stop you from lifting his jersey up to inspect his middle, because how else would he catch the cute way you scrunch your nose up in concentration? If he pulled his hands away when you started testing the range of motion in his wrists, when else would he be able to track your lips as you softly counted and mouthed gentle confirmations?
Never. Because you were so damn busy.
“Missed you,” Bucky said after sneaking a kiss on your forehead while you were prodding at the bruise on his collarbone. “I’ve been missing you a lot.”
You let a small smile interrupt the disgruntlement on your face. Bucky grinned at the change, pressing another kiss to your hair while he still could.
“Did you miss me enough to send a right hook into that guy’s jaw?”
“Yes.”
Your smile was gone again. Now you looked aghast. “Bucky.”
“What?” he exclaimed, sliding his torn hands from your healing ones to wrap you in his embrace. “You want me to lie instead? Okay, fine. No, sweetheart, I didn’t start a fight just to have an excuse to see you. That guy got all these punches in on me because I’m out of practice, is all. I don’t think about you every waking second of my life, and while we’re at it, no I did not use your shampoo this morning because I miss how—”
“Okay, okay,” you laughed, resting your forehead on the divot in his chest. “I get it. Thanks for being truthful.”
Bucky relished in the feel of you. He had been slightly worried that his state would cause you to be more upset than anything. If you weren’t so tired right now, there was a high chance you’d be yelling at him because of his recklessness instead of resting against his chest. So Bucky jumped at the opportunity, trailing one of his hands up to cup the back of your head. He craned his neck down, burying his face into the juncture of your neck.
He hadn’t been lying about the shampoo.
“I miss you too. Even if you act like an idiot sometimes,” you mumbled against his jersey.
Something in Bucky felt lighter, warm. “Acting like an idiot’s the only way I get to see my girl.”
You hummed. “Sorry ‘m so busy.”
You had to be exhausted. Not even a single reprimand had tumbled from your mouth. Bucky had expected at least three.
“When’s the last time you slept, baby?” Bucky kept his voice low, his thumb making unconscious circles against your hair.
“I don’t know. In the night.”
“Okay, thanks smart ass.” Bucky jostled you a bit until your eyes met his. “I meant when did you last take a break? Get a good night’s sleep?”
You sighed, gaze trailing over his face. “Let me fix you up. Then we can play twenty questions.”
“Baby—”
“No, Buck, this is the training room, if you haven’t noticed,” you quipped, stepping back and rifling through a few drawers. “Take a seat and I’ll fix you. That’s my job.”
“Well, what about my job?” he grumbled back.
“You have failed at your job. Your job is hockey and you instead played human punching bag.”
“Not that job. My other job. The one where I take care of you.”
You spun on your heel, a basket of supplies resting on your hip. The sweater that engulfed your frame had the university’s logo stamped across the front, but instead of jeans or slacks—the usual uniform for PT interns—you wore leggings. Your hair was pulled back in the most endearing, pretty mess, and Bucky’s chest hurt as he looked at you.
“My tired girl,” he hummed, bringing his hand up to your cheek as you pushed him down on the exam chair. He sat if only to appease you, his feet still flat on the floor even with the tall seat.
“I’m only a little tired,” you weakly fought. Bucky chuckled in response, sanitary paper crinkling beneath him. “Now let me clean you up.”
You snapped gloves onto your hands and Bucky fought back a petulant whine. If he had been any other member of the team, those gloves would have been on the second they walked in the door. He should be grateful, then, that you only put them on when it was time to tend to his wounds, but he wasn’t. He missed you too much to feel latex instead of your skin.
Bucky’s lip stung as you cleaned it, but he hardly flinched. If he moved, he would miss the pretty way you bit into your lip as you stared at him.
“Remember when I’d be in here all the time?” he asked when you turned back down to grab antibiotic cream.
You let out a tired laugh. “How could I forget? You picked a fight every game. If that didn't work you’d come stumbling in here complaining about a torn ACL or whatever. Big liar.”
“I wouldn’t call it lying.”
The smile you gave him was replicated on his own face.
“You were literally lying.” You dabbed the cream on his lip, and then moved to the cut on his cheek. “You would come limping in here and then I’d see you an hour later running out to the parking lot.”
“You wouldn’t look at me if I wasn’t injured.”
“It was my job, Bucky!” you laughed, eyes giving away your amusement. “I wasn’t supposed to be fraternizing with the players. I’m pretty sure Cho only lets us be together because you wouldn’t leave her alone otherwise.”
Bucky moved his hands from his thighs to your waist, tugging you closer as you worked. “Hey, sometimes drastic measures are needed.”
“You called her multiple times a day… bought her an edible arrangement. Wait, didn’t you offer to drive her kids to school a few times?”
“It worked, didn’t it,” he posed, nudging his nose against your cheek. You giggled, lightly slapping his arm to get away.
“The edible arrangement was a good touch,” you relented.
Bucky released you as you wiggled from his grip, flitting around the training room to put supplies back. He spotted your backpack in the corner of the room, unzipped with the water bottle tipping out. When you sat down at the computer to document his care, which he found a bit ridiculous (you only put a bandaid on his face), Bucky walked over and gathered your things. He did so slowly so you wouldn’t notice; you probably had plans to stay at the rink for another few hours, and that was not okay with him.
With a final zip and your water bottle now standing upright, Bucky meandered over to your seated position. He hooked his chin over your shoulder as you worked, leaning over and tapping your phone screen for the time. His heart twisted warmly in his chest when he saw a picture of himself smiling under the 8:00 pm displayed on the homescreen.
After all the pining and work it took to get you, Bucky often felt this wasn’t real.
God, he loved you.
“I know what you’re trying to do,” you whispered, clicking away at the computer. “I still have some charting to do. Peter hit his head yesterday and I have to do the follow up work.”
Still in his uniform, Bucky wrapped you up from behind. Now you would both need a shower and he could get you to leave. He kissed the back of your head, and then your temple, and then your cheek as he craned his neck to watch you work. You smelled like fresh laundry and books and the subtle hint of your perfume.
“Parker’s fine. He was up and playing today. Let’s go home, baby,” Bucky murmured, most of his words spoken against your skin.
“I know he’s okay. But head injuries are a completely different protocol and I have to—”
“I miss you,” he reiterated. “And you’re working too hard. All the lights are off in the rink ‘cept for this one. Come back to my place. Let me take care of you.”
“Why don’t you shower and change first? I’ll leave with you once you finish.”
Bucky spun your stool around suddenly, one hand on your waist, the other reaching back to steady himself on the desk now at your back. “Oh no, don’t try to pull that on me. I get back in here, you’re gonna tell me you started something new you can only finish on the PT computer and you can’t leave for another hour. I wasn’t born yesterday.”
You let out a quick sigh, caught. “Well, what about—”
“Nope,” Bucky interrupted. He used his far hand to shut the facility computer and then guided you up. “You’re coming home with me. You’re gonna sit in the car while I drive you to my apartment and then we’re gonna take a shower together and I’m gonna make you feel so good you don’t even remember what a concussion is.”
“Bucky,” you chastised, hiding your face in his shoulder.
His laugh shook your head. “Still so damn shy.” He reached down to grab your bag, slinging it over his shoulder and placing a hand on the back of your neck, meeting your averted gaze. “Just me in here, baby.”
“I know. But you don’t have to be so vulgar.”
“Vulgar? Sweetheart, if you want vulgar I’ll tell you exactly what I’m gonna do to you the second we—”
You slapped your hand over his mouth, careful for the delicate skin there. Still, Bucky was sure you could feel his smile against your skin, and he fought back an even bigger one when he saw the embarrassed twist of your brow.
Slowly, he pried your wrist down, kissing the palm of your hand on the way. “Sorry,” he whispered, not sorry in the slightest.
You pursed your lips, flustered. “You’re such an antagonizer.”
Bucky could do this every day and never grow tired of it. It had been months now and he found himself only wanting you more.
“Can’t help it. I love you.”
Your faux annoyance morphed into a bashful smile, the kind Bucky remembered from his time faking injuries. It was reminiscent of when you were trying not to laugh at his jokes, or smile at his flirting, or give him any reaction he was looking for.
But he always got what he wanted in the end.
And, more than anything, he wanted you.
“That one do the trick?” Bucky asked. “Am I finally getting my girl to come home with me?”
When you looked up at him with raised brows and a smile twisted up at the corners, he knew you’d given up. Perfect timing, too, because—in all honesty—Bucky had been punched in the side during his on-ice tussle, and his ribs were starting to hurt. You were going to be pissed when you saw the bruise form tomorrow morning, but you would be pissed in his bed, so it was worth it to Bucky.
“I have to get a little bit of homework done when we get there,” you reasoned, pointing an accusing finger at your boyfriend.
He threw his hands up in surrender, dropping one down over your shoulders as you both walked out. “Okay, okay. Homework at my place, I got it.”
“That comes first, Bucky. Before anything else. Shower, then homework, and then… other things.”
“I know what first means, baby.”
“Good.”
But Bucky had other plans, and they did not involve homework. He was pretty sure you were ahead, anyways. Like, weeks ahead, actually.
“You eat dinner yet?” he asked, fishing his keys from his pocket.
You looked up at him, incredulous. “What did I just say?”
“What?” he defended, tugging you closer as the wind in the parking lot whipped at your clothes. “I can’t make sure my girl’s had dinner? What am I allowed to do?”
You only scoffed, tucking yourself further into his side. “Keep me warm.”
“Always, baby.”
#bucky barnes x reader#bucky x reader#bucky barnes x you#bucky barnes x y/n#bucky barnes reader insert#bucky barnes fanfic#bucky barnes au#college!bucky#athlete!bucky#bucky barnes
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OPEN LETTER TO FANFICTION WRITERS ON ACCESSIBILITY; PLEASE READ.
first of all, thank you for spending your time, seldom acknowledged and definitely deserving of a compensation you are not receiving, to entertain us. i’m speaking on behalf of more than just blind readers, but everyone. you’re sick as hell.
i’ve summoned you to provide some information you may not already know. i know a lot of you like fonts. especially those who cross post their work on wattpad. i admire any and all acts of aestheticism to a degree, and can understand the desire to use them. (blind folk, sorry y’all. momma’s making a point.) 𝔰𝔱𝔲𝔣𝔣 𝔩𝔦𝔨𝔢 𝔱𝔥𝔦𝔰, it’s cute. 𝐬𝐭𝐮𝐟𝐟 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 is a little cuter to me, if i had to choose. or maybe 𝓈𝑜𝓂𝑒𝓉𝒽𝒾𝓃𝑔 𝓁𝒾𝓀𝑒 𝓉𝒽𝒾𝓈?
now, sighted folk: if you’re on mobile, i implore you to participate in a little exercise for me. select this text and scroll through all the copy/paste/define/‘search the web’ options until you get to the speak portion. if you need to change a setting for your phone to do so, would you mind? i’d really appreciate it.
please make your phone read aloud part of my post, and be sure to include any bits with those super cute fonts. 𝕚’𝕝𝕝 𝕥𝕒𝕔𝕜 𝕠𝕟𝕖 𝕠𝕟 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝕖𝕟𝕕 𝕠𝕗 𝕞𝕪 𝕡𝕝𝕖𝕒, 𝕣𝕚𝕘𝕙𝕥 𝕙𝕖𝕣𝕖. 𝕚 𝕙𝕠𝕡𝕖 𝕥𝕙𝕚𝕤 𝕚𝕤 𝕥𝕣𝕒𝕟𝕤𝕝𝕒𝕥𝕚𝕟𝕘 𝕔𝕠𝕣𝕣𝕖𝕔𝕥𝕝𝕪, 𝕚 𝕕𝕠𝕟’𝕥 𝕨𝕒𝕟𝕥 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝕝𝕖𝕤𝕤𝕠𝕟 𝕥𝕠 𝕓𝕖 𝕤𝕢𝕦𝕒𝕟𝕕𝕖𝕣𝕖𝕕 𝕓𝕪 𝕥𝕪𝕡𝕠𝕤 𝕚 𝕔𝕒𝕟’𝕥 𝕤𝕖𝕖.
whether you participated and discovered it for yourself or you thought this was a crock of shit you’d rather not sniff, i’ll tell you! screen readers cannot dictate words using those fonts. at least, on a majority of devices. not mine, or any of my mutuals elsewhere.
you do not have to change your behavior on my behalf, but please be aware that fonts limit access to your work.
blind readers do exist, i exist, and i am bound by the same feelings of dogged longing that make other sad horny bitches read angsty, smutty, father-wounded nonsense.
thanks for making it this far. i really hope my sincerity is being conveyed, reading makes me so happy and i’m not the only person on this app who relies on accessibility settings more often than not. do with this information what you will, and have the day you deserve!
#matt murdock x reader#thomas shelby x reader#elijah mikaelson x reader#klaus mikaelson x reader#matt murdock smut#fanfic#bucky barnes x reader#din djarin x reader#x reader#gender neutral reader#reader insert#writers on tumblr#ao3 writer#writeblr#female writers#writerscommunity#blindness#visual impairment#accessibility#accessible art#tasm!peter parker x reader#smut#ethan landry#matt murdock#bucky barnes#peter parker#miguel o'hara#foggy nelson#frank castle#good omens
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Every Part of You
Pairing - Grumpy!Bucky Barnes x Sunshine!Reader
A.N. - Alright, I've been asked to write about Bucky and Sunshine's first time many, many times. And the thing is, like sure, I could write that, but also I want us to take a moment to consider trying to build up to that. There's so many firsts buried in there that I think need to be navigated through before they even get there. This is one of those firsts. Like the first time you see Bucky's shoulder.
Bucky Barnes Masterlist | Grumpy Sunshine Series
"You're just- " You stop speaking, searching for his lips again. Though you're breathless, you can't bring yourself to pull away from him, "You're so pretty."
You shudder as you feel his hand slip under your sweater. The occasional graze of the cool metal on your skin enough to send shivers down your spine.
His lips trail down, nipping at your jaw, "I'm not pretty."
Your hands, winded in the hair at the nape of his neck, glide down his neck, to clutch the fabric of his henley. The moment he feels your fingers toy with the collar of his shirt, his heart hammers against his ribcage. Not in the sort of way that he usually feels in these moments with you. He feels a sense of dread, of panic. It wraps around his spine like a python. It feels like he can't breathe.
"You're so -"
He wrenches away from you, his chest heaving, "Stop, stop, stop."
You freeze, immediately dropping your hands. Panic starts creeping up your throat, coating your words. "Did I - did I do something wrong?"
He gulps, silently shaking his head. It takes him a moment to regain his composure, to regain the ability to speak clearly, "No, no, you're - you're perfect."
Guilt starts to eat at him. He can see you doing your very best to keep your own feelings off your face. He can see the sting of his rejection in the way your lips press together in a tight line. The embarrassment in the pallor of your once flushed cheeks.
You two have worked so hard to overcome your own personal issues and traumas, to build trust in each other, moments like these hadn't come easy. And he so callously pushed you away, it makes him feel worse. And what makes his heart ache even more, he sees nothing but concern for him shining in your eyes. You just look so worried for him.
Your hands rest in your lap. You twist and untwist your fingers. "If you don't want to, we don't - we don't have to do anything. I'm really sorry -"
"No, no, please don't be sorry." He reaches for you, gently squeezing your hand. It soothes him as much as it does you. "I want to. You don't know how much I want to."
"But?"
His eyes squeeze shut. He can't bring himself to meet your eyes. "You haven't seen it before - my arm, my shoulder."
"Oh."
He drops your hand. That feeling takes over him again. It feels like there's not enough air in the room. He slides away from you, closer to the edge of the tiny couch in your apartment. "It's - I am not pretty."
It breaks your heart, watching him pull away from you. You can only imagine how many people have turned away from him before. "James..."
He fervently shakes his head, refusing to open his eyes, "No, no, I know what you're gonna say, but it's bad. A lot worse than you're thinking."
"How do you know what I'm thinking?"
"It's bad," he insists. "I see it every day and I can barely - it's just bad, okay?"
You take his hand, squeezing it tightly. "It's okay if you don't want me to see it. I understand."
He finally opens his eyes again as his eyebrows pull together. He still doesn't meet your eye. "No, no, I want to - I trust you with this, I do. I just - I want you to be prepared."
In that moment, you realize that it's not really about preparing you. Not at all.
He thinks you're going to react badly. He thinks that this will make you turn away from him for the first time ever. He's worried that the love and adoration in your eyes will turn to disgust and repulsion.
It's less about preparing you for the scarred flesh, and more about warning you that he couldn't take a bad reaction. He's not sure he could take it if you turned away from him too.
"I love you," you promise him. "There's nothing that you could show me that would change that. I hope you know that."
There is no response to that. And you know that he won't believe it until he sees it. It takes him a moment. His hand toys with the hem of his shirt. His hand grips the hem, only to let it go.
"I love you," you remind him.
He takes a large gulp of air, pulling off his shirt with one quick movement.
You weren't really sure what you were expecting. You knew the story. You knew how Bucky lost his arm. He even confided the bits and pieces he remembered from getting his vibranium arm.
Your eyes trail over his skin. The shoulder is scarred, scars jut in every direction. Each scar is etched into his skin. It's clear it was a painful, violent experience for him. The metal plate protrudes from the scar tissue in a way that you're sure was painful when first placed. You look on with curiosity, you're not really sure how this, a sign of survival, a badge of resilience, could ever make anyone turn away from him.
He's as breathtaking as you could ever imagine.
Your eyes flicker up at him. He looks at the blank wall of your apartment, scared to watch your facial expressions as you take it in. "Can I?"
He nods, barely able to look you in the eyes. He sucks in a breath when your fingers make contact with the scar tissue surrounding the metal plate.
You immediately pull your fingers back, worried you've accidentally hurt him. "Does it hurt?"
"No," he answers reflexively.
You know he's lying. "I've seen you holding your shoulder before - holding it like it hurts."
"Sometimes," he amends. "The doctor said there's a lot of nerve damage. Things they can't fix."
"Does it hurt now?"
"No."
You run your hand over the plate, over his scars, down to his shoulder blade.
"Still think I'm pretty?" he sarcastically remarks.
You press a gentle kiss to his bare shoulder. "I'll always think you're pretty. Every part of you."
Bucky Barnes Masterlist
AnonymityIsFun Masterlist
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Anon request: “could you do something enemies/rivals where bucky accidentally finds out that you have a mirror kink during a training session?”
Yes, absofuckinglutely yes.
Watch Me
Rival!Bucky Barnes x Reader
Word Count 2.4k
ALL OF MY WORK IS 18+
C/W: Language, fingering, size kink, mirror kink, choking, degradation (Bucky calls reader a slut once), hate sex (p-in-v unprotected), one lil spank, no aftercare and Bucky’s kind of an asshole.
“You’re distracted!” Bucky grunts, landing another painful blow to your gut, causing you to stumble backwards as he effectively knocks the wind out of you again.
“Just shut up, Barnes!” You snap back, resting your hands on your knees as you hunch over and work to catch your breath.
He wasn’t wrong, you were completely distracted. You couldn’t tear your gaze away from the wall of mirrors behind him and it only made it that much easier for him to land hit after fucking hit.
You may absolutely loathed the man but it didn’t change the fact that the way his muscles flexed in his back and biceps in the reflection of the mirror behind him as he pummeled you with his fists sent your mind reeling with thoughts of how those toned muscles would feel under your hands, your lips, your tongue.
Why couldn’t this man wear a goddamned shir-
He strikes you hard in the chest despite you being bent over and at rest and you stagger back in shock, the force of it having you struggling to maintain your balance and remain upright. Your temporary disorientation allows him the opportunity to wrap his right arm around your neck and pull you into a sleeper hold.
“Wanna tell me why you keep lookin’ in that mirror?” He breathes against your ear, his tone assuring you that there’s a smirk creeping across his stupid fucking face.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” You pant through gritted teeth, jerking your shoulders against his arm, working to free yourself from his chokehold.
He shakes his head, a sardonic laugh rumbling up from his chest as his forearm tightens across your windpipe. “Tap out.” He orders. “You can’t fucking handle me, princess. You don’t belong in the field. You’re weak. It’s pathetic.” His voice is low and cruel as you continue to struggle. “You’re gonna get yourself killed, or worse- get one of us killed.”
Rage simmers in your belly at his comment but the shame you feel from the truth of it is evident in the crimson blush creeping across your face.
He was right again.
You were weak.
That’s exactly why Tony had scheduled you to spar with him. Had you not been explicitly instructed to have training sessions by Tony Stark himself, you wouldn’t be caught dead alone in a room Bucky fucking Barnes and his smug ass attitude. It was no secret that this man was the bane of your existence, taking every opportunity to pick a fight and belittle you in front of everyone regardless of the time, place or context.
Unfortunately when it came to hand to hand combat, he was the most skilled out of anyone else on the team. so it made sense to pair you with him for training despite how much you had protested the idea. As you spent the last hour getting taunted and insulted while simultaneously having your ass handed to you, you couldn’t help but feel like Tony was just putting you in a room with him for his own amusement.
The anger overtakes the shame and you grit your teeth, bringing your head forward before slamming it back into his face with all the strength you could muster, pain erupting across the crown of your head. Bucky releases you, stunned and furious, bringing his fingertips up to swipe away the trickle of blood that trailed from his nostril. He lifts his gaze to meet yours, his cerulean eyes narrowing.
“A fucking headbutt? Are you kidding me?” He shouts, advancing on you. “You’re supposed to grab onto your opponent’s arm, bend your knees, sidestep and roll me off your back! Have you paid attention to anything I’ve told you?” He asks, leaning over you with a menacing glare. “You could’ve given yourself a goddamn concussion, you idiot!”
You scoff, stepping up on your tiptoes in an attempt to to make yourself appear taller, more confident but you nearly shrink right back down when the scent of his cologne mingled with the musk of his sweat hits your nostrils.
Goddamnit, he smells like cedarwood and sin.
“I was paying attention! Do you really expect me to be able to roll your big ass over my back? That’s impossible!” You argue.
“Bullshit. You’re distracted. You’ve been distracted this entire time.” He growls, prodding a finger into your chest.
“Don’t fucking touch me.” You threaten, moving to swat his hand away but he’s quicker and snatches your wrist.
“Don’t touch you?”
Bucky leans down further and you stiffen at his sudden closeness.
“I think you like when I touch you.” He taunts, tightening his metal hand around your wrist and spinning you away from him to face the line of mirrors across the wall.
“Fuck you, Barnes.”
“You want to, don’t you?” He asks in a low voice as he leans in behind you, trailing his flesh hand up your abdomen and closing it around your throat. You don’t reply, unable to form a coherent thought when his body dwarfs yours, towering over you from behind. He closes in, pressing his bare, sweat slicked chest against your upper back, drawing a sharp breath from your lungs when the length of his hard cock in his gym shorts settles against the curve of your ass.
“I think you forget.” He whispers, the light stubble across his jaw brushing against the shell of your ear as he speaks.
“Super soldier. I’m enhanced. My senses are enhanced.”
His hand tightens around your throat, your pulse fluttering against his palm.
“I can hear your heartbeat, princess.” He taunts, his breathy chuckle fanning against your skin before he nips at your earlobe and goosebumps prickle across your skin.
“I can smell how badly your cunt is aching for me.”
Your eyes widen in response to his brazen statement and you make a move to step out of his hold but he splays his large hand across your stomach and tuts at you.
“Don’t try to deny it.” He whispers, his metal hand slowly working its way down your body. “You know, it’s funny. You say you hate me, but your body’s betraying you.” His cool fingers tease at the waistband of your leggings and your breath hitches, your eyes slipping shut.
“I bet if I were to just-“
Your hand catches his wrist before his fingers can trek any further and you shake your head. “No.” You mumble, opening your eyes and connecting your gaze with his in the mirror.
“Why?” He asks, brushing his lips against your neck. You tilt your chin up, granting him further access and he chuckles against your skin when you avoid answering his question.
“Because you don’t want to? Or because you hate me so much you don’t want me to be right?” He asks quietly.
You open your mouth to reply but the only sound that slips out is a moan when he proceeds to dip his fingers beneath your waist band, ghosting a finger across your slick folds.
“That’s what I thought.” He whispers, gathering your arousal on your fingers and tracing them along your clit in slow, deliberate circles.
“Jesus, Princess. You’re so fucking wet.”
You groan, trying desperately to remind yourself just how much you loathe this man but every brush of his fingers against your clit pulls you further and further away from logic.
Fuck it.
You arch your back against him and hook your thumbs in your waistband, tugging your leggings and panties down and kicking them aside in a hurry. Your eyes are completely fixed on the mirror, staring at his hand cupping your cunt and you place your hand atop his, guiding his metal fingers towards your entrance.
“Oh, is that right?” He teases, his finger poised at your weeping hole but denying you of what you so desperately want.
“I had a hunch when you couldn’t take your eyes off my reflection earlier but now I know for sure.”
You grit your teeth in frustration, exhaling sharply through your nose. “I hate you.” You whisper harshly, grinding your backside against his erection.
“I know.”
He sinks a single metal finger into your wet heat and you gasp at the sensation, keeping your eyes locked on your reflection as he pumps into you, his breath growing heavy against your neck as he adds a second finger, letting out a low groan when he’s met with resistance.
“You’re so fucking tight.” He murmurs, grazing his teeth along the tender flesh of your neck.
“I'm gonna have to open you up, princess.”
You whimper, your head falling back to rest against his shoulder as he scissors his fingers inside your cunt, massaging your inner walls and working to add a third finger. A cry escapes your throat at the intrusion, your hand flying up and carding in his hair to steady yourself.
“I’m gonna bury my cock in this tight little cunt.” He purrs, rocking his fingers into you, his palm grinding against your clit and your impending orgasm causing your pussy to flutter around his fingers. He grips your jaw and roughly tilts your head back down to look in the mirror. “You're gonna watch me when I make you come.” He growls, fucking his fingers into you at a steady pace, your arousal creating an obscene squelch with every pump of his hand.
Your eyes trail up the reflection of your body as it writhes in pleasure under his touch and your eyes connect with his. Your mouth falls open, a broken cry falling from your lips as your walls clench around his fingers and you break under the gaze of his blue, lust-blown eyes. He hums, his grip on your jaw loosening and he turns your head, capturing your mouth in a deep and passionate kiss as he withdraws his fingers from inside you. “Take my cock out.” He murmurs against your lips, his low voice carrying demand while grasping your wrist and guiding your hand to palm the aching erection tented in his gym shorts.
You don’t hesitate to follow his instruction, reaching under his waistband and curling your hand around him, letting out whine when you realize you can’t close your hand completely around his girth.
“I told you.” He whispers, peppering kisses across your jaw. “I needed to open you up for me.”
You release a shuddered breath and he pushes down on the small of your back to urge you to lean forward, his metal fingers tracing along your shoulder and down your arm to settle atop your hand. He brings it to the mirror, interlocking your fingers with his and pressing it against the glass.
“I’m not gonna be gentle. You know that, right?” He asks in a low voice, dragging the head of his cock along your slick folds. You catch your bottom lip between your teeth and choke back a moan as he releases your hand and widens his stance.
You watch as his eyes drop to your ass, his large palm resting flat against it to hold you steady while he grasps the base of his cock and presses himself against your entrance. You raise your other hand to the mirror, leaning forward with a bowed head and brace yourself against it as the sweet sting of him stretching you steals the air from your lungs.
“I don’t want you to be.” You breathe out, lifting your head weakly and connecting your gaze with his as he settles his hands on your waist.
No sooner than the words leave your mouth, he’s drawing his hips back, withdrawing almost completely before he slams back into you with bruising force. You let out a strangled cry, your eyes rolling back as he thrusts into you at a merciless pace.
A harsh slap to your ass directs your attention back up to his reflection where his hungry eyes are still fixated on you.
“I thought I told you to watch me when I make you come.” He grunts, pulling a sharp breath from you as he snaps his hips forward and kisses your cervix with the tip of his weeping cock. He slides his hand down across your pubic bone and slips it down between your folds to tease your throbbing clit. His fingers work quick, tight circles across your sensitive bud, igniting a fire low in your belly and spreading heat under your skin.
“You like that, huh?” He taunts, his voice low and husky as he fucks into you with unrelenting tempo. “You like to watch yourself when you’re getting fucked, don’t you? Kinky little slut.”
“Bucky, I-”
You lose your words in a choked sob, arching your back as your cunt spasms and contracts around his cock, your knees threatening to buckle under the wave of euphoria crashing over your body.
“That’s right Princess, come all over my cock.” He moans, his hips stuttering as he trails his fingers away from your swollen clit.
He digs his fingers into the soft flesh of your waist, chasing his orgasm in deep, brutal thrusts, his heavy sack slick with your release, slapping against your skin with every jerk of his hips.
“Fuck, I’m gonna come.” He grunts, his rhythm growing sloppy and erratic as his muscles tense.
He pulls out abruptly and you lock eyes in the mirror one last time, his brows knitting and his lips parting as he curses your name, frantically fucking his fist and painting your ass with thick ropes of cum.
You press your forehead against the cool glass before you as you work to catch your breath and it’s silent for several long, uncomfortable minutes before you hear the faint rustle of him tugging up his shorts.
You straighten up and turn around to see him moving towards you with his gym bag slung over his shoulder and his t-shirt in his hand.
“Good session.” He says flatly, tossing his t-shirt at you and you catch it, your brows furrowing in confusion. The corners of his mouth twitch up into a smug smirk and he gestures towards your sticky ass.
“I hate you.” You mutter, shame rising up your cheeks in a deep blush as you wipe yourself angrily with his t-shirt.
“I know.” He replies, not bothering to hide the amusement in his voice while he turns to leave.
“Same time tomorrow!” He shouts over his shoulder, leaving you alone, ashamed and naked in the gym.
Goddamnit, you fucking hate him.
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A/N: Thank you anon for this request, I hope you enjoy reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it!
💋Sj
#bucky barnes oneshot#bucky barnes smut#avengers smut#marvel smut#bucky barnes fanfiction#bucky barnes x reader#bucky barnes request#bucky barnes reader insert#smut requests#bucky barnes x reader requests#marvel fanfiction#smutty one shot
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You’re Mine, Sunshine (masterlist) ♡
♡ Pairing: Grumpy!Bodyguard!Bucky Barnes x Sunshine!Fem!Reader (Mob!Au Bodyguard!Au)
♡ Series Summary: Bucky gets picked by a very rich and respected man to be his daughter’s personal bodyguard. The Father warns him that it won’t be an easy job, that she is a brat and difficult to deal with. But what happens when Bucky meets you and you’re the complete opposite?
♡ Series Warnings: mentions of amputation, dark themes, violence, death/death threats, talk of parent death, fluff, angst, stalking, daddy issues, anxiety attacks/panic attacks, abuse, depression, depressive episodes, PTSD, dry humping, hints to smut, (warnings to be added as new chapters are released)
Trope ⇢ Grumpy x Sunshine ☀️
(SERIES ONGOING)
Last Updated: 9/8/23
MINORS DO NOT INTERACT | SERIES 18+
⇨ Chapter One
↳ After Pierce interviews Bucky for the job, he warns him of you. Bucky is starting to rethink his decision, but when he meets you... you're not what he expected.
⇨ Chapter Two
↳ Bucky takes you home, and later finds you in the library. You both get to know each other a little better, but Bucky is hesitant.
⇨ Chapter Three
↳ Bucky has a surprise meeting with Pierce, getting informed about your secret admire. Meanwhile, Bucky tries to keep things professional, he’s hesitant to cross the line when you need him.
⇨ Chapter Four
↳ You don’t know what to think of Bucky after he took you to bed last night. Bucky can’t continue to keep the stalking situation hidden from you. Something is found on your doorstep.
⇨ Chapter Five
↳ Getting to know each other better doesn’t go according to plan. Bucky has to comfort you and fix the mess he made. Will you forgive him?
⇨ Chapter Six
↳ Bucky receives a morning visit from Steve, with the news about what was in the box. Bucky continues to think about what he should do. Should he tell you the truth about your stalker?
⇨ Chapter Seven
↳ Bucky finds you making a mess in the kitchen, attempting to bake and offers his help. The two of you get to talking and some reveals about each other begin to come out. Will he finally tell you about your stalker?
⇨ Chapter Eight
↳ After a surprise visit from Pierce, tension arises as he threatens Bucky of his job. Pierce wants to have a talk with you and it doesn't go very well.
⇨ Chapter Nine
↳ After the events from the other day, you try and cope with the reality of what happened. The world is a lot less colorful than you remember. Bucky helps comfort you after you realize you have no one left.
⇨ Chapter Ten
↳ Someone comes knocking at your door in the morning. Bucky answers and is surprised with who he finds. Are they going to help them or hurt them?
⇨ Chapter Eleven
↳ The tension can't be ignored anymore between you and Bucky. Steve shows up and he's not alone.
⇨ Chapter Twelve
↳ Reality is hitting you as you, Bucky, Steve and his men all venture off to a secret safe house only Steve knows about. The events from the last couple of days are starting to hit you with a sickening force, leaving you weak and crippled.
⇨ Chapter Thirteen
↳ Your dreams consist of random memories of your parents, but are they really random? Despite the past days of hell—you still find it difficult to resist Bucky. You two spend a heated morning together, devouring each other while you still have these moments.
#bodyguard bucky barnes#bucky barnes#the winter soldier#marvel cinematic universe#reader insert#sebastian stan#buckybarnes#fluff#angst#protective bucky barnes#bucky barnes fic#beefy bucky barnes#bucky barnes x y/n#bucky barnes x you#bodyguard au#mob au#mini series#bucky barnes fanfic#masterlist
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Late (Bucky Barnes x Reader)
Summary: When Bucky overhears you telling Natasha about your period being late he immediately knows what this could mean. To ease your mind until you know for sure he tries to subtly show you that he’d be there to care for a potential child. You find yourself surprisingly happy about this possibility. (Female Reader)
Word Count: 4,986
Warnings: Mild Pregnancy Scares, Talk of Menstruation, Baby Fever, No Y/N, Petnames (Doll, Sweetheart)
Crossposted on AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/54538210
A/N: Also, quick question, would anyone be interested in a smut fiction with Bucky, containing choking?
---
"I’m really late.”
“How late?”
“My period should have started about seven days ago. I’ve never been this late, normally I’m almost always on time.”
“That really is pretty late.” Natasha mused and turned to face you as you stood next to her on Clint’s porch, overlooking the rainy fields. You were all visiting the Bartons after Clint had gotten injured on a mission, leaving him with a broken femur and you all coming over to try to make the house easier for him to get around with his injury. “Have you talked to Bucky, yet?”
You quieted down for a second, opting to turn back toward the rain rather than look at Natasha’s face, knowing that she would urge you to talk to your partner about this. And you knew that even with such an intimate topic you could always talk to Bucky. Menstruation wasn’t a taboo subject in your relationship, so when you were on your period Bucky was aware of it and when you needed him to comfort you or run to the store to get you supplies he was quick to do so.
The two of you had also talked about the possibility of having children before and you had both agreed that one day you would love to have some of your own but that this day was still in the future. So, you knew he wanted children one day and after being with him for years you also knew that he wouldn’t react negatively to all of this. But you didn’t want to worry him because you thought that your period was late for a whole different reason.
“I was so stressed and busy lately. I even calculated when I should have ovulated and at the time we were flying around the world, trying to take down that crime syndicate.” You explained, not meeting her eyes just yet. “I’m sure it’s just the stress that delayed my ovulation and with that also my period.”
“But have you talked to Bucky about it, yet?”
“Not yet. As I said I’m pretty sure it’s just the stress I’ve been under, so it’s probably not a serious issue and I don’t want to worry him with it. I know that everyone immediately assumes that a late period means someone is pregnant, so I don’t want him jumping to conclusions when it might just be from the stress and will probably resolve itself.” You explained before turning to her. “Can we talk about something else? If I don’t get my period within the next week, I’ll talk to him, alright? But for now, let’s please change the subject.”
“Alright.” Natasha nodded and thought for a second. “How was your date night?”
Before you could answer you heard the screen door open and turned to find Bucky stepping onto the porch. Your eyes locked with his and you smiled brightly, making his face light up as you walked up to embrace him. He pulled you to his side and pressed a kiss to your head.
“Where have you been all day?”
“All around the house really, talking to Steve and Sam, helping Laura and everyone else move things around to make it easier for Clint to get around with his cast on.” Bucky said nonchalantly, leaning over to press his lips to your cheek. “I heard you talking about our date night.”
You looked up at him, worry rising in you for the flash of a second, concerned that he’d heard the previous topic of conversation. But you quickly overplayed your concerns with a bright smile as you nodded and went on to tell Natasha about the museum you’d been to where they were currently showing an exhibition about Captain America. When you started talking about how many children had been there Bucky piped up.
“Sweetheart, do you remember that young girl who recognised me as the man from one of the photos?”
You nodded quickly and turned to Natasha with a bright smile. “He was in the historical photos there and a little girl, no older than maybe five or six years old, recognised him. She was too shy to talk to him at first but we saw her pulling at her father’s sleeve and pointing Bucky out to him.”
“How cute!” Natasha smiled and looked back at Bucky. “Did you go talk to her?”
“He did.” You answered for your partner, a warm smile on your face. “He went up to her and asked her if she could point him to the display of the shields. It was such a good idea because it meant she could be the one to help Bucky.”
“That was exactly why I did it and it did the trick. It put her in charge of the situation and she pointed me to the shields. She tagged along with us as we went there, chatting away with me about how she’d read books about me and Steve, how she wanted to be just like us when she grew up and asking me all sorts of questions. “
Natasha smiled at that, putting her hands on her hips. “Sure you don’t want to switch professions and work in childcare, Buck?”
“No, I’m quite fond of the whole superhero business.” Bucky chuckled and then nodded his head toward you. “I’m also more fond of the idea of having my own children.”
Natasha shot you a pointed look but you remained quiet and simply leaned back into his side, changing the subject of the conversation to an elderly lady who had also approached Bucky after recognising him at the exhibition. Bucky’s hand tensed on your arm for the fraction of a second but before you could even look up he was already talking to Natasha again.
---
It took another hour for the rain to lighten but as soon as it did Clint’s children were outside in the garden, Cooper getting on the tyre swing and pulling out his book, Lila going back to practising her archery which the rain had interrupted her at and Nathaniel running to get his soccer ball to play with. That’s when you heard Clint calling out to all of you, asking for someone to help him get outside onto the porch. Natasha was quick to rush inside to help him while you and Bucky kept an eye on the children.
“Come on, Lila!” Nathaniel complained from down on the field as he approached his sister who put her bow down to look at him. “Why won’t you play with me?”
“I want to practice my archery, Nat.”
Nathanial groaned in annoyance before walking over to his brother. “What about you? Can we play soccer?”
“I just want to finish the chapter first.”
The boy crossed his arms and hung his head in disappointment, kicking his ball to the side and slumping down on a nearby log. You were about to go down into the garden, to try and mediate, comfort Nathaniel or offer to play soccer with him when you felt Bucky’s arm slip off your shoulder. When you turned your head to look at him you saw him giving you a small glance before walking down into the garden, waving at Nathaniel.
“I’ll play with you!”
“Really?” Nathaniel looked up, a smile immediately spreading on his face as he watched Bucky come up to him. “Thank you, Mister Barnes!”
Bucky smiled at his excitement, picking up the ball on the way. “Call me Bucky, alright?”
“Alright!” Nathaniel nodded and then moved across the field, waving Bucky after him. “You be the goalie, alright?”
“Sure, but go easy on me. I’m not a professional soccer player.”
“But you’re a superhero!”
You watched a genuine soft smile spread across Bucky’s face. “Do you think we defeat bad guys by challenging them to a game of soccer?”
Nathaniel shrugged and then grinned up at Bucky. “Have you ever tried?”
“Actually, no. I might have to give your idea a try, buddy.”
Crossing your arms over your chest you watched Bucky play soccer with Nathaniel, a soft smile spreading across your face and a warm feeling engulfing your heart. You still thought that stress was the reason for your late period but you knew that even if you were expecting Bucky would make a great father -- but then again, you had always known that. Nathaniel kept scoring goals and though you could tell that Bucky was letting the ball go in on purpose from time to time, sometimes he looked genuinly surprised at the boy’s aim. Sighing softly, you leaned against one of the wooden support beams of the porch while Natasha helped Clint sit down on a nearby chair and you watched Bucky cheer Nathaniel on.
“Sure you don’t want to talk to him?”
You winced in surprise when Natasha’s voice sounded off just beside your ear and you turned your head to find her standing right next to you. Sighing softly, you shook your head and leaned back against the beam, turning to continue watching Bucky and Nathaniel play.
“I’ll wait a couple more days but I will eventually talk to him about it.” You promised, keeping your voice down so Clint wouldn’t hear your conversation. “But I know that I have nothing to worry about. Even if I were pregnant, I think Bucky would make a great father.”
“Definitely.” Natasha said, her smile evident in her voice as she whispered back to you. “If you want to wait a few more days, do so. But you have nothing to worry about. He’s a good guy and he will stand by you no matter what happens.”
“I never doubted that.”
A clap of thunder made everyone look up at the sky and Clint called out to the children to come back inside. They didn’t have to be told twice. Lila started packing up her things while Cooper got off the swing to head for the porch. Nathaniel clutched the ball to his chest as he looked up at the sky in fear but Bucky was quick to react, crouching down next to him and holding out his metal arm to him.
“Hold on and I’ll carry you inside. We’ll be super fast, I promise.”
Nathaniel turned to look at Bucky and at another encouraging nod from the man he grabbed onto the metal arm’s biceps, holding on tightly as your partner stood up, lifting the boy off the ground and leaving him dangling from the arm. While they set out for the porch, you could hear Nathaniel laughing as he swung back and forth on Bucky’s arm, his hands clasped tightly around his biceps. What stood out to you was the fact that Bucky’s eyes kept flicking over to yours, almost as if to see whether or not you were looking at him. But you couldn’t really think about that observation because you found yourself distracted by a strange sense of longing settling in your chest.
---
It was two days later that you two found yourself in a furniture store, looking for a new dresser and despite your period still being late, you were no longer focused on the worry you felt about that and more thinking about the longing you had felt when watching Bucky play with Nathaniel two days prior. It made you wonder if having a child with Bucky was something that you might want sooner rather than later.
“I cannot believe we broke your dresser.”
You shushed Bucky, heat rising to your cheeks as you remembered how exactly the dresser had broken and how much teasing you had already had to endure from your fellow Avengers. “Will you keep it down?”
“You didn’t tell me that last night.” Bucky grinned and wrapped an arm around your shoulders when he saw you roll your eyes, leaning over to press a kiss to your cheek. “But then again, that is part of the reason why we’re here.”
Once more you rolled your eyes but you couldn’t help but chuckle as you leaned into him. “Just remind me that we’re only here for a dresser when I will inevitably find twenty other things that might come in handy. I need you to be the voice of reason here and tell me I don’t need every little thing I see.”
Bucky chuckled at that and threw you a playfully wary glance. “I don’t know if I can turn down any of your wishes, Doll.”
The two of you kept walking until you came to the department for children’s furniture beyond which you knew lay the department for regular bedrooms. As you walked past the displays of cribs and bunk beds, the walls behind them decorated in images of stars with stuffed animals and mobiles all around, you felt a strange longing return. You cuddled closer against Bucky’s side, making him turn to you but you didn’t see his facial expression because you kept looking around. He was quiet for a few seconds before he leaned over to press a kiss to your head.
“When we have a kid one day, what theme would you choose for their nursery?”
You blinked in surprise at his question, noticing how the longing feeling lightened just the smallest amount at the first word of the sentence and you couldn’t stop yourself from asking the first thing that came to your mind. “When?”
“We spoke about having children one day. Is it a surprise that I use ‘when’ instead of ‘if’?” Bucky gave you a comforting smile. “So tell me, what theme would you choose for our future child?”
“The space theme.” You smiled softly, looking back at the displays. “Imagine our baby sleeping under those glow-in-the-dark stars or under a mobile of the planets. It would also fit so well because our first proper date was to an exhibition about space travel.”
Bucky’s smile was clear in his voice when he spoke up. “I like that idea a lot.”
You leaned closer to him again and his hand came up to squeeze your shoulder lovingly as you two started walking again. But your peace was interrupted when you rounded the corner to find a couple fighting over what sounded like the choice of a crib, making you stop in your tracks. Against your better judgment, you spoke up, directing their attention to you and Bucky.
“What’s wrong? Do you need help?”
The blond woman rolled her eyes and nodded to the redhead next to her. “My wife here thinks we should get the crib with the wooden frame but it’s much more expensive than the metal frame one.”
“Yes, I know that but I think a crib is not the piece of furniture to cut costs at.” The redhead crossed her arms and shook her head. “Our baby is going to sleep in that bed every night. If you want to cut costs anywhere why not on something like the dresser? If that’s a bit cheaper it won’t be as bad!”
“Would you like an outsider’s opinion on it?”
Both women turned to look at Bucky who took his arm off you to approach the two and they gave him a shrug, agreeing in almost perfect unison that someone else’s opinion might be helpful for their situation. You watched with an interested expression as Bucky smiled and inspected the cribs for a few minutes, reading their descriptions and taking a closer look at them before he turned to the two women again.
“I wouldn’t get either of these.”
“Why not?”
Bucky glanced at you as he spoke up again, once again seemingly making sure that you were paying attention before he said anything. “The one with the metal frame may be an inexpensive one but the mattress that comes with it is not tight fitting enough and that’s a safety hazard for the baby.”
The blonde woman quickly distanced herself from the metal frame crib to examine the wooden one once more. “Why can’t we choose the wooden framed one? The mattress fits better than the one in the other crib.”
“It does but it has those cloud-shaped cutouts on the headboard. The baby’s head or limbs could get caught in it and that’s a safety hazard, too.”
“I totally forgot about that. We even looked up crib safety before coming here and I forgot.” The redhead mumbled and sighed, turning to her wife. “And I’m sorry for going off at you like that. I’ve been so stressed lately.”
“I get it, I wasn’t any better. It’s all forgotten, don’t worry.” The blonde sighed and took her wife’s hand into hers before turning to Bucky. “Got any recommendations on what crib to buy?”
Bucky smiled and nodded toward a crib a few metres away. “I’d get this one. I know that it’s a bit more expensive than the other two but it is convertible, so it can be turned into a toddler bed. It will last you two much longer, so I’d say it’s worth the price.”
“It would look great with the changing table we picked out.”
“It would.” The redhead agreed to her wife before smiling at Bucky. “Thanks for the help, we really appreciate it.”
The blonde nodded before turning to smile at you. “You got yourself a very knowledgable baby daddy there. He’s a keeper.”
Bucky smirked proudly as he turned back at you, watching you come over to embrace his arm and look back at the two women. You didn’t correct the first statement and you didn’t even question why as you answered. “He really is a keeper.”
---
After buying a new dresser the two of you had decided to get lunch together and take a walk around the park afterwards. Your hand was in his as you walked down the walkways, passing by the other people in the park until you heard something that made you stop dead in your tracks. Someone was crying and it sounded like a child. Bucky seemed to have also heard it because he looked around for the source of it before his eyes stilled on a spot next to a large patch of shrubbery. You followed his gaze and found a young girl, no older than four years old sitting on the ground, legs drawn up to her chest and face buried in her arms as she hugged her knees. Before Bucky could react you were approaching her, calling out to her so you wouldn’t startle her as you came close.
“Are you alright?”
“I want my Daddy.” The girl sobbed brokenly but she looked up at you and only then could you see the bloody scrapes on her knees. “I-- I saw a kitty and went after it and-- and I got lost and I fell and my knees hurt real bad!”
You felt concern and pity wash over you at seeing the girl so distraught and hearing that she was lost, so you knelt down next to her. “How about my friend and I help you find your way back to your family?”
“You would? But-- But I don’t know where to look and-- and my knees hurt.”
“Let me check to see if I got some bandaids in my purse.” You said softly and began rummaging through your purse as Bucky crouched down next to you. When you found your small first aid kit you held it up triumphantly. “Look at that, we can patch you up and find your family, alright?”
She was still crying but she let you put bandaids on her knees after spraying some wound disinfectant spray on them. The sting of the spray made her cry even harder but when Bucky let her hold his hand, she calmed down a little. You ignored how he was once more eyeing you as you helped the girl.
“You did so well. You were really brave.” You smiled at her before sitting back on your haunches and introducing yourself by name. “And what’s your name?”
“Penny.”
“It’s nice to meet you Penny.” Bucky said softly, smiling at her. “I’m Bucky.”
Penny wiped her eyes and when you got up, offering her a hand to help her stand she accepted it. Once on her feet, she kept her hand firmly in yours as you surveyed the area, hoping to find someone who looked like they were searching for her.
“What is the last thing you remember? Were you at a playground or a picnic area? Do you remember anything like that maybe?”
“We were at a fountain.” Penny mused, her index finger on her chin as she thought. “We were taking a break.”
Bucky looked back at you with a smile. “I know where they might be. There’s a big water fountain not far from here. We should start there.”
Penny looked up at you before pulling at your hand. “Can you carry me, pretty please? My knees really hurt.”
“Of course.” You smiled and bent down to pick her up, letting her wrap her arms around you as you set out with Bucky leading the way. “Let’s get you back to your Daddy.”
The three of you walked for about ten minutes, with Penny telling you all about her day and you listening intently, only interrupting her to ask questions to keep her talking. Bucky kept glancing back at you, a soft smile on his face. When you came to the fountain you were immediately greeted by a panicked-looking man that Penny quickly reached out to.
“You found her! Thank you so much!” He exclaimed as he took her into his arms and held her close. “I looked away for five seconds to talk to my wife and when I turned back Penny was gone.”
“I saw a kitty, Daddy.” Penny explained before pointing at her knees. “And I fell and hurt myself. But the nice couple helped me and gave me bandaids.”
“Again, thank you so much.” Her father said with a smile. “I hope you didn’t have to search for us for too long.”
“Not at all. Penny was really smart and told us you were at a fountain.” You explained, taking Bucky’s hand and nodding to him. “And Bucky knew where the fountain was so it was no trouble finding you.”
“But even if it had been, we wouldn’t have minded. There’s no need to thank us.” Bucky explained, squeezing your hand and smiling at the man. “We’ll be on our way then.”
“Have a good rest of your day. And again thank you.”
Penny smiled at the two of you, waving from her father’s arms. “Bye-bye!”
You two waved back at her, said your goodbyes and then left to head back to the car. On the way, your hand migrated from Bucky’s hand to hold onto his biceps. Your head leaned against his shoulder and he turned his head to look at you with a small smile.
“You would be a great mother.”
The longing was back and by now you knew exactly what it meant. And you wondered if he felt the same, given how many references to having children he’d made during the past few days, from speaking about it to Natasha to asking about potential nursery themes with you to flat-out telling you you would be a great mother. The glances he kept sending your way whenever either of you interacted with a child or talked about anything that had to do with child-rearing made you question if he was doing all this on purpose.
“You think so?”
“Definitely.” He said and then looked back ahead, a gentle smile spreading across his features. “I cannot wait to have a family with you one day.”
You decided to keep the fact that there was a slim chance that day might come sooner rather than later to yourself for the time being, opting to wait a few more days. Yet, you suspected that you wouldn’t even have to tell him about your worries because by now you were sure that he’d heard all you had said to Natasha. It seemed that Bucky was trying to show you that he’d be ready to raise a child with you. And you were surprised at how happy you were about that slim chance that you might have been pregnant.
“I can’t wait, either.”
---
“Don’t think I don’t know what you’ve been doing.”
Bucky looked up from where he was putting away the dishes, giving you a confused look. You just leaned against the counter next to him, giving him a warm and thankful smile because now you not only knew what he had been doing but you also had an inkling as to why he’d been doing it.
“What do you mean, Doll?”
“Showing me how good you are with kids, how well prepared you would be for raising a child, talking about how much you want to have a child with me, telling me that I’d be a great mother and always making sure I saw how good you were at everything to do with childcare.” You explained softly, reaching out to take his hand into yours. “Thank you.”
“What are you thanking me for?”
“You overheard me talking to Natasha two days ago, didn’t you?”
“How you talked to her about your period being late?” He asked and when you nodded, so did he. “Yes, I overheard it before I came outside.”
“And I assume you thought it meant I might be pregnant.” When he nodded, you gave him a soft smile. “Did you do all of that to show me that you’d be ready to raise a child with me should I be pregnant?”
Bucky nodded and turned to face you fully now, moving so he could take both your hands into his. “I want you to know that should you ever have the suspicion that you’re pregnant you can talk to me and that I’d be willing to step up to be a father in an instant.”
“I love you so much, Bucky.” You said and pressed a small kiss to his cheek before drawing back again. “But we won’t need to worry about that for now. I got my period just after I got out of the shower, so I’m definitely not pregnant.”
Saying it out loud made you feel almost sad or disappointed but you tried your best to overplay these feelings. But Bucky was a very observant person, especially when it came to your emotions, and the frown on his face showed that he’d realised that you weren’t all too happy at the moment.
“Are you happy about it?”
“It would have definitely been a big change and a very sudden, unplanned one at that.”
“That’s not what I asked, Sweetheart. Are you happy about it?”
You swallowed at his question and shook your head. “Not completely, no. I’m obviously happy that nothing unplanned has happened because I know that it-- it would have been a big and sudden change. But these past few days I’ve seen how prepared you truly are for a child and how good you are with children and-- and you got called my baby daddy and you kept talking about how much you were looking forward to us having children. I really started liking the idea of having a child with you, James.”
“Come here, Sweetheart.” Bucky whispered as he heard the sadness in your voice and immediately drew you into a tight embrace. “I’m sorry.”
“It’s not your fault.” You protested through the tears in your voice but you held on to him nonetheless. “I just got so-- so excited about possibly being pregnant but I knew from the start that it was likely not the reason why my period was late.”
“Yes, I heard you talk to Natasha about that, too.”
“But that doesn’t change the fact that I felt so excited, so happy and so ready for it.”
Bucky gently drew back from you, mustering your face for a few seconds before he spoke up again. “You feel ready to have a baby?”
“Yes.” You nodded after a small pause before you looked up at him again. “But if you’re not ready then please don’t feel forced to do anything you don’t want to just to make me happy. I can wait, I promise.”
“Doll, what about the things I did and said in the last days makes you think I’m not also more than ready to have a child with you?”
“You want to try for a child?”
“I think we should try for a baby if we’re both ready.”
“I like that idea.”
You squeaked in surprise when Bucky all but hoisted you onto the counter behind you, capturing your lips in a kiss as he got between your legs to get closer to your body. The kiss deepened as he tipped you back and pulled you closer, and when he pulled back you gave him a breathless laugh.
“For the record, I didn’t ask you to impregnate me right this instant.”
“Then I think some signals got mixed there.” Bucky chuckled and pressed a kiss to your head. “But if we’re going to try, what’s stopping us from starting now?”
“For one, I’m on my period right now.”
Bucky leaned over to gently kiss your jaw. “If you’re uncomfortable with sleeping with me right now then obviously we’re not going to and I respect that. But if you’re worried that I’ll be uncomfortable, let me just tell you that a little blood doesn’t scare me.”
“I think we can wait a few more days to start trying.” You chuckled softly, running your hand up and down his neck. “There’s no need to be in such a hurry.”
“Of course, Doll. Whatever you want.” Bucky said and drew back to give you a warm smile. “I guess I’m simply excited to start a family with you.”
“I am excited to start a family with you, too.”
#fanfiction#textpost#writing#marvel cinematic universe#mcu#marvel#marvel x reader#bucky barnes#bucky barnes x reader#bucky barnes imagine#female reader#no y/n#reader insert
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You're Gonna Be Quiet
Bucky Barnes x Avenger!Reader
Summary: It's just an undercover mission, anyone could be married for one night - even you two.
Warnings: profanity, flirting, yucky old men, suggestive content (?), possessive Bucky <3
MINORS PLS DNI
Word Count: 2.2k
A/N: y'all.... im not an author. im an artist, not an author, so PLS go into this with that knowledge. but I have been convinced, no, coerced into posting this little funsy by @ellemj
she threatened to withhold vacation pictures from me as if I didn't draw her bucky barnes dick earlier today and I'll be damned
anyways,, please enjoy and manage your expectations :,)
“Okay, rumor has it the target, Mr. Beaumont, has a thing for married women,” Sam says casually as he holds a ring between his thumb and forefinger, “so for this mission, you get to be Mrs. Barnes.”
He tosses the ring in your direction and you catch it with a sour expression. You slip the rock on your finger and admire it, your scowl slipping just a moment as you watch how it catches the sun. That is until you see Bucky with an equally foul look on his face. Suddenly, your frown reappears.
“Sam, I feel like there is certainly someone better suited for this than me,” you grumble as you put your hand down and look back up at him, “I mean, aren’t these undercover missions more of a Natasha thing?”
Sam rolls his eyes before turning to face you, a hand on his hip. You were in for a scolding. “Natasha has her own mission. So today, you get to be Mrs. Hart. And you,” he turns to Bucky with a smug expression, “will be Mr. Hart. Any questions? No? Good, you two lovebirds go get your outfits on.”
You turn quickly, but not quick enough to miss the death stare Bucky shoots Sam. This one seems even more lethal than his typical one.
~~~
The ride to the gala is silent. Bucky is always silent, but this silence seems more… suffocating. You fiddle with the ring on your finger before glancing over at him. “Are you planning to even look at me before we get there? I mean, we’re supposed to be a marri-”
“You’re supposed to be a woman in an unhappy marriage who's looking to fuck a billionaire,” he says bluntly, not even turning towards you, “I’m just making sure that you look plenty unhappy.”
He would never admit out loud that the real reason he won’t spare you a second glance is because the first glimpse of you dolled up sent almost all the blood in his rational mind straight to his cock. He needs to preserve what little sense he has left.
~~~
You get out of the car with a huff. Just as Bucky intended, you look unhappy and thoroughly irritated. You pull the hem of your little black dress down in an attempt to recover some of your dignity, but all Bucky notices is how the little tug causes your breasts to be even more apparent. Yep, there went the rest of the blood.
He sighs and grabs your hand before plastering a fake smile onto his lips. “Let’s get this over with, shall we?”
You sigh and forget anymore yanking on your dress, looking up at him with a grim expression. “Let's,” you mutter under your breath before letting him lead you into the gala.
As expected, the event is extravagant and no doubt costly. You feel out of place, and you can’t help the way you move a little further into your ‘husband’s side. You let a breath of air past your lips as you look around the room for your target. Nowhere to be seen, you nearly move further into the room before Bucky squeezes your hand gently and nods to his left. You’re quick to ignore the flutter of butterflies that his touch sends shooting through you and casually look where he’s pointed. Surely enough, at the bar, sits a piggish man nursing a flute of champagne. Your eyes find Buckys and you shoot him a look before you drop his hand and make your way over.
You take a seat a few bar stools down from the man, making sure to fail at getting the bartender's attention. “Sir? Sir, could I-” You drop your hand with a sigh, feigning a disheartened expression.
“Sir, this lady would like a drink,” like a mouse in a trap, Mr. Beaumont waves him down for you and orders you a drink, “you look like you’d drink something fruity, a little thing like you. Maybe a sex on the beach?”
You wish you’d missed the way his lips pulled up in a foul grin and the way his eyebrow raised ever so slightly, and you really wish you hadn’t seen his greedy eyes rake over your body. Nonetheless, a soft laugh and a bat of your lashes grace him instead of the scowl that wants to pull at your lips.
“I’ve never had one before,” you say with a saccharine smile, “maybe we could share.”
You notice how his eyes nearly bug out of his head and then slowly trail to your hand. He slides his fingers, not dissimilar to link sausages, down to your left hand where he trails a thumb over your ring. “Are you sure your husband wouldn’t mind,” he asks with that same vile grin, moving his hand to rest on your knee.
“Not particularly, but I’m sure I don’t care,” you whisper teasingly, leaning forward and showing off your tits that practically beg to fall from your dress. ‘Hook, line, and sinker’ you think as the man runs a heavy hand up the side of your leg and his eyes trail down your neck to your cleavage.
Trembling anger washes over Bucky as he watches the man practically feel you up in the middle of the bar. The beads of perspiration running down the target's neck and the way he keeps nervously licking his lips give Bucky all the indication he needs to know this man thinks you’re his. Then Bucky turns to look at you. You. You’re just letting the man have his way, no, you’re encouraging it. Yes, it’s the mission. And, no, Bucky has no reason to feel such vile hatred for the target in any sense other than the professional one. But for some reason, he finds himself wanting to dismember any part of the man that graces your body where he hasn’t yet.
Yet?
Yet.
~~~
“Who’s this, darling?”
You bristle as you feel a breath of air pass your ear before the deep timbre of Bucky's voice even registers in your mind. You whip around to look at him, an expression of anger and bewilderment replacing the flirtatious grin you were just donning. You look back to the target, trying to mask your surprise.
“Honey,” you manage to say through gritted teeth, “I didn’t even see you come over.”
You pull your hands from the target's grasp, nearly cringing at the moist feeling left behind on your skin. You feel Bucky’s firm hold replace Mr. Beaumont’s slimy touch, and your body reacts all too positively. You lean back hardly at all, but it’s enough to feel his chest rigid against you. Was he standing too close or were you too eager? There was no way to be sure, but one thing you could be sure of was the fact that neither of you shied from the contact.
“Hmm,” he hummed lowly, a disapproving air oozing from the short sound, “when you never brought our drinks over, I got curious as to where you’d disappeared to.”
His eyes shift from the side of your face to the man across from you, who grows increasingly uneasy at the sight of your tall and broad ‘husband’. Bucky leans down close, so close that his lips brush against the curve of your ear and you hope he can’t hear your blood rushing in your head.
“I’ll ask again, who is this?”
You’re not sure if it's what he says, or the way he says it, but his words send a wave of arousal through your body. Suddenly, the too-tiny dress feels too hot and you’ve nearly forgotten his question. That is until he quirks an eyebrow and tilts his head expectantly. You clear your throat and look back to a flustered target, presumably intimidated by your colleague.
“This,” you reply before turning back to the sweaty man, “is Mr. Beaumont. He owns a software company and..”
You turn to the target, a ditsy smile on your lips as you try to recover your role, “what else did you do? I forget.”
He laughs nervously, shifting on his bar stool to make himself appear taller. Still pitiful in comparison to the man currently staring daggers at him over your shoulder. “I develop software and coding for various companies and organizations to use where they deem fit.”
Another low hum sounds from Bucky’s throat as he lifts his head from your ear, he meets Mr. Beaumont's eyes and sighs.
“Very impressive, Mr. B,” he says condescendingly. You frown, peeking over at him. What is he doing? This was not a part of the plan, “so you must be a smart man?”
The man in question smiles smugly and nods. “I’d think so, yes.”
“Well then, pray tell, why have you been feeling up my wife,” he asks coolly, Bucky’s turn to look smug. You, on the other hand, whip around to stare at him with an irate expression. He looks down at you with a matching frown, hardly able to mask his irritation, “Don’t worry, dear, I’ll handle you later.”
You’d like to think you were subtle in your shock, in the way his words leave you flustered. You had no idea Bucky could smell the wave of arousal that flooded your panties, or that he could hear the beat of your heart like a snare drum. Neither of you even noticed the target’s pitiful stuttering, too caught up in the most sexually charged staring contest ever.
~~~
“What the fuck, Barnes,” you hiss quietly, walking ahead of him to the car with steam practically flooding out of your ears, “I mean, what the actual fuck!”
You don’t wait for him to catch up before you get into the passenger seat, slamming the door shut behind you. You didn’t care for appearances, your mission having been sabotaged by your own partner. What appearances did you have left to keep up?
He gets into the driver's seat a few moments later, pulling his gloves off with a sigh before running his flesh hand over his face.
“Are you done?”
“No,” you snap, turning to face him, “I’m not. You have the audacity to call me reckless, but you go and pull a stunt like that? I had it under control.” Your cheeks are red with irritation and your hair is a mess from you running your fingers through it, but he’s too caught up with thinking what else would have you looking so flushed.
“If you’d just shut up and listen-” he starts, but you’re quick to cut him off.
“I was getting the intel,” you’re practically ranting now, “and you just had to swoop in. And for what? To be all macho? To fluster me?”
The scowl on his lips that once matched yours turns into a scoff, and you narrow your eyes at him. Why are you looking at his lips? And why can’t you pull your gaze away from them? “What? What now,” you ask with a huff.
“You really need to learn when to stop talking,” he mutters, looking at you out of the corner of his eye as he tries to wipe the smug smile from his face, “y’know that?”
You’re startled by his words, the flush on your cheeks no longer caused by his irritating actions but by his shocking words. Your eyes travel over him shamelessly, ready to jeopardize everything just to get rid of the tension that has lingered and grown exponentially over the course of the evening.
“Then why don’t you shut me up,” you ask softly, your tone opposite to the defiant one you’d held only moments ago. Judging by the minuscule way his eyes widen and the way his lips part around a sharp inhale, you’d be safe to guess he’d beat you to the idea.
You aren’t sure who moved forward first, or even if you’d moved at all. All you can be sure of is the feeling of Bucky Barnes kissing you like he’d never have the privilege again.
Your lips move feverishly against his own, the car filled with quiet pants and sloppy smacking. His hands tangle in your hair and he tugs you away from him, his expression turning stern when you whine petulantly. “Did you know you were a fucking brat tonight,” he asks lowly, his stare hard. You swallow thickly, pressing your thighs together to relieve the ache between them.
“I was not,” you rebut, your brows furrowing and your lips turning down in a pout. He didn’t like that.
“You were,” he chides coolly, releasing his grip on your hair and sighing, “especially after we walked back to the car. You never even let me explain why I stopped you.”
You would like to focus on his words, but you’re too worried about the way his metal fingers nimbly undo the buckle of his belt. Silence sweeps over the car, the only sound being your shaky breath and the clank of metal on metal.
“So here’s what we’re gonna do,” he continues, “I’m gonna talk, and you’re gonna listen. Quietly.” You’re salivating as he tugs the zipper of his dress pants down, allowing the tent in his boxers some much-needed reprieve. “You know why you’re gonna be quiet?”
“Why,” you ask in a breathless whisper, only just now meeting his eyes again.
“Because your mouth is gonna be full."
#bucky barnes fic#bucky barnes#bucky barnes fanfiction#bucky barnes x reader#bucky barnes x you#bucky barnes smut#mcu#the winter soldier#winter soldier#fanfic#reader insert#smut
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Pickup Game
Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Female!Reader
Word Count: 3509
Warnings: Flirt, Fluff, Smut, Oral (f rec)
Summary: An after party game of pickup lines leads to a confession and an even more fun night in bed.
A/N: Special thanks to my hype princess & beta reader @whisperlullaby.
The after party of just Avengers and close friends was in full swing. Drinks and laughter flowed as you enjoyed each other's company.
“Okay, okay. Your best pick up line! Let’s have ‘em!” Clint yells over the most recent spate of laughter. “Tony, whatcha got?”
Tony smirks before opening his arms wide and declaring, “I am Iron Man.” He grins as everyone heckles him, “What can I say? Works every time!”
“Really?” Pepper raises an eyebrow.
“Used to! Used to work,” Tony backpedals. “Rhodey, save me here, buddy!”
“Okay, okay,” Rhodey laughs as he glances at Natasha who is standing by him and tugs at his sleeve, “Feel my shirt. Know what it’s made of? Boyfriend material.”
"Nice," Natasha scoffs.
"Let's hear yours then!" Rhodey huffs.
"Ever had a White Russian?" Natasha asks, holding up her glass.
"No," Rhodey looks at her suspiciously.
"Want to?" She says seductively.
Rhodey chuckles, "Smooth. Okay, Clint, what've you got?"
Clint bats his eyes at Sam, standing next to him and says, "Well, here I am. What are your other two wishes, big boy?"
Sam laughs while rolling his eyes, "So, what you guys are telling me is that you have no game?"
"Give us your best then, Rocket Man!"
"You know, dating is a numbers game. So, can I have yours?" Sam grins.
"Boooring!" Tony heckles. "Steve, what's your favorite?"
"I've never been good with pickup lines. That was more Bucky's territory," Steve tilts his head towards the dark-haired super soldier.
"Thanks," Bucky says sarcastically, "I'm a little out of practice with pickup lines."
"Aw, come on, Buck, give it a shot," you pipe in and then try to hide your embarrassment at having drawn attention to yourself. Even though you hoped he'd test out the line on you. Your attraction to the man was undeniable and you'd harbored a crush since you'd met him. You leaned back against the wall with your hands behind your back and raised your eyebrow in challenge to him.
Bucky's face betrayed a moment of discomfiture before he straightened his shoulders and stepped over to you. He placed a hand on the wall above you, leaning in with a small smirk, "If I told you you had a beautiful body, would you hold it against me?"
You could hear some chuckling and comments in the background but it faded as you stared up at Bucky. God, he was fine as hell and you were doing your best to control your erratic heartbeat.
"Sorry, doll, that wasn't very good, huh?"
You don't know where the gall came from but, before you realized what you were doing the words slipped out of your mouth. "Don't worry, Buck, I'm not big on being picked up. I prefer to be pinned down." Your eyebrow raised as you said the words and you smirked, bringing your glass to your lips for a sip.
Bucky's jaw drops as the room erupts in laughter and cheers. Tony crows, "She wins!"
Clint laughs heartily as he agrees, "Hands down!"
After a few moments, you reach up and close Bucky's mouth, “And to answer your questions, yes, I would,” you whisper with a wink as you walk away.
A little while later, the party was winding down and you decided it was time to slip out. Your nerves were getting the better of you. Thoughts ran amuck as to what Bucky thought of you and whether the attraction you felt was reciprocated. He’d been in a conversation with some of the guys since the game ended and you hoped to catch a glimpse, some sign of mutual interest but now you were walking away with your tail between your legs. God, what must he think of you and that brazen comment.
Hitting the button for the elevator, you berate yourself for thinking you ever stood a chance. Your head snapped up when a deep voice whispered, “You know, you have a beautiful body.”
Grinning, you turn and press yourself against Bucky, “Is that so?”
“Yeah,” Bucky smirks at you. Without warning, he stoops and picks you up as if you weigh nothing.
“Bucky!” You squeal as the elevator doors open.
He carries you in, hitting the button for his floor with his elbow, “Don’t worry, doll. I know you aren’t big on being picked up but I’ll have you pinned down soon enough.”
You raise your eyebrow at him, “It was just a line, Buck.”
His confidence falters for a second, “Oh, uh-”
“Don’t worry, baby. I wouldn’t have said it if I didn’t mean it,” you smirk.
“Oh, you’re naughty,” Bucky laughs.
“I prefer ‘playful’.”
“I like playful,” Bucky adjusts you in his arms so that your back is pressed to the elevator wall and your faces are at the same level.
You use the opportunity to wrap your legs around him and look at him expectantly.
“Can I kiss you?” He asks.
You’re surprised by the request after the way he’d handled you. It warmed your heart that he would seek your consent and you couldn’t help the smile that spread across your face, “Please.”
The kiss is intense. He presses into you as his lips move over yours. His tongue slips out seeking entry and you oblige him immediately. You separate only when the elevator dings your arrival. He lowers your legs gently and takes your hand. Leading you down the hallway, Bucky says awkwardly, “I, uh, was kind of surprised when you, um, said that tonight.”
“What? The pickup line?” You tilt your head as you look at him.
“No, the… thing you whispered afterwards.”
“Really, why?” You thought your feelings for him were fairly obvious.
“I mean, I’m a mess and you’re so put together. I just,” he shrugs, “kinda thought you were out of my league, ya know.”
“No,” you laugh, “no, I don’t know. I have never thought of myself as put together. Thanks for that but I’m kind of a mess, too. I think we all are in our own ways.”
“Yeah, I guess that’s true,” Bucky smiles as he opens his door and guides you in.
You suddenly feel awkward as you walk inside the room. The passion displayed in the elevator had mellowed as you walked and talked together into a camaraderie. You were unsure how to get back to it.
“Would you like a drink?” Bucky asks as he comes up behind you, his lips brushing your neck and his hands caress your hips. You jump a little at the unexpected contact.
“I think I had enough earlier,” you breathe, heat pooling between your legs.
“I haven’t had enough, I haven’t had nearly enough. I need another taste,” Bucky says as he turns you around to capture your mouth. You oblige him willingly, snaking your arms around his neck as you arch into him.
Abandoning any reserve you would normally have, you reach for the buttons on his shirt. He reaches for the zipper of your dress but his hands still. You pull back to look at him curiously.
“You’re sure?” He asks.
You smile and pull the tails of his shirt from his pants while saying, “Barnes, if you don’t get me naked and pin me down, I will never forgive you.”
He pulls you against him forcefully, grinning as he pulls down your zipper, “We can’t have that.”
Clothes are discarded quickly as he backs you to the bed. Bucky slides his hands into your panties to grab your ass and you gasp when he picks you up. Laying you on the bed he pulls your panties off. You expect him to follow you down but instead his eyes take a slow path up your body. Propping yourself on your elbows, you resist the urge to cover yourself but tremble as he studies you. He smiles, grabs a discarded t-shirt, and rips the bottom half from it. Your eyebrow raises at the display.
“And what do you plan to do with that, Sgt. Barnes?”
His smirk as he advances has butterflies dancing in your stomach. He grabs your arms, twists the shirt around your wrists, and hauls them above your head as he pins you to the bed.
“Happy now?” Bucky rumbles as he kisses your neck.
“Almost. I’d like these off,” you use your legs to pull at the underwear he still has on, “and an orgasm or two would be nice.”
Holy shit, you don’t know where this confidence had come from. Maybe because Bucky wanted you. Maybe because of whatever drink that was that Natasha had handed you. Whatever it was, you were enjoying the results.
“Only one or two?” Bucky teases as he nibbles along your clavicle. “I bet I can do better.”
“Is that so?” You gasp as his tongue plays over your nipple.
“Mm-hm,” he murmurs before plucking at your other nipple with his lips. He lets go of your hands that are still bound above your head as he slides his tongue down your stomach. Your breathing picks up when he reaches your navel and proceeds to kiss his way down to your mound. Your eyes screw shut to take in every sensation. When he spreads your legs further apart, you feel the contrast of warm skin and cool metal on your thighs. Anticipation builds, making you lick your lips and you can’t help the whimper that slips out when you feel a gentle finger trace your slit.
“Fuck,” Bucky whispers reverently before his tongue follows the same path as his fingers. His metal arm curls around your leg and he rests his hand on your abdomen, effectively holding you in place as he explores your folds. It was almost unbearable, the way his tongue slid around to touch everywhere but where you needed him most.
“Bucky, please,” you whimper desperately.
His chuckle rumbles against your core. His fingers replace his tongue, taking the same lazy path. “Poor baby, am I not giving you what you want?” His finger tip barely grazes your clit and you whine. “Are you feeling needy?” His finger circles your entrance and his tongue gives the softest lick to your clit. Your hips flex, desperate for more friction, making Bucky press his metal hand more firmly against you. “I like seeing you like this.” Another small lick to your clit. “Wet, under me, and so desperate.”
“Bucky, pleeeaase,” you can’t keep the whine out of your voice. You don’t think you’ve ever been quite so turned on and the teasing was making you a writhing mess.
“Say please again and maybe I’ll give you what you want.”
“Please!” the word rushes out of you. His fingers and tongue driving you mad.
His tongue moves slowly, lapping back and forth over your clit while his finger still teases. It’s maddeningly delicious but not enough at the same time. He holds your hips hostage, not allowing you to move. You mewl with each motion of his tongue over you, your body on fire and screaming for just a little more until your mouth opens to plead, “More! Oh, god, I need more!”
Bucky lifts his head, a devilish smirk across his mouth, “Oh, precious, you didn’t say please. We’ll have to start all over again now.” His finger goes back to tracing the slow path over your cunt.
“What?” You gape at him as he plays with you.
“You didn’t say please, doll,” Bucky repeats, allowing his lips to brush over your thigh, far too far from where you wanted his lips.
You felt like crying. You felt like screaming. You felt like ripping off your bindings, flipping him over, and riding his face until you came all over it. Unfortunately, you knew you’d never overpower him and, if you were really honest with yourself, this little game he was playing was hot as fuck. You’d never been treated like this and he had made you a gushing mess.
“I’m sorry, Bucky. Please, please, I need more,” you whimper at him with doe eyes, hoping for a reprieve.
“You need more, precious?” Bucky’s finger grazes lightly over your clit.
“Oh, please!” Your hips try to buck against his hold but he merely chuckles as he holds you in place easily. His finger circles your clit slowly as his tongue takes a meandering path up your thigh.
“Please, baby, please!” You whine as he makes his way back to your apex and are rewarded when his tongue takes the place of his finger. His motions are still slow and deliberate while his finger brushes over your entrance again causing you to clench around nothing. Desperate for more, you start to say the one word you know will earn you some relief, “Plea- OOH!!!-” In the middle of your plea, his finger had entered you and he sucked on your clit suddenly. “Yes, fuck, please, please, please…,” the word became your only mantra as he fucked you with fingers and tongue. Your legs began to shake and then he curled his fingers into that perfect spot, making bright white flash before your eyes and a scream rend from your throat. You came hard, your muscles clenching. Your legs try to close but Bucky’s broad shoulders between them keep you open to him. He laps at you through the aftershocks.
“Fuck, I could stay here for days,” Bucky groaned. His fingers curled slowly as his tongue made gentle licks.
You gasped and moaned, words and thoughts hard to come by in the haze. “Bucky,” you finally manage to whisper his name as if it was the sweetest endearment.
“I know. I know, doll. Don’t worry, I’m not done yet,” his mouth nuzzled you as he said the words. Flicks of his tongue came closer together, “I need another one from you, precious. Gotta hear you make those sweet sounds again.”
“Bucky, oh, fuck. Please, it’s so good,” you gasp the words out, nearly overstimulated and yet still desperate for his touch.
“You know how hard I am hearing you say that?” Bucky groans against your clit, vibrations coursing through you. His tongue begins moving faster, making swift circles.
“I… I- fuck. Please,” you stutter, unable to form sentences anymore. Bucky’s fingers curl more firmly into that spongy spot inside and your back tries to arch despite his arm holding you firmly in place. He was moving his tongue as if his sole purpose in life was to make you fly into a million pieces. You were a whimpering mess, unable to form words and so close to the edge again. When he growled against you again, your eyes flew open and you looked down your body at him. His cobalt eyes met yours and the intensity in his gaze was a hit straight to your core. Your muscles began to spasm as you watched him, so focused on your pleasure and aroused by your responses. Your scream is stifled by the overwhelming intensity of the orgasm that rips through you. Your hands flex around the bonds that hold them in place.
As Bucky kisses his way back up your body, you manage to come back to yourself… mostly. You wanted to touch him, to hold him against you, to run your hands over his body. You attempt to untwist your hands from the scrap of t-shirt but the deceptively loose looking knot doesn’t budge.
“Bucky, baby, please can you untie me?” You whisper.
Bucky had paused at your breasts to show them some attention. They were deserving of the most reverent of worship in his mind. His tongue traced your nipple before he spoke, “Why? I’ve got you tied up, pinned down, and perfectly on display for me.”
“I want to touch you, please,” you gasp as he takes your nipple into his mouth to gently suckle.
“Hmm,” he muses as he makes his way to your other breast, giving it the same loving attention. “If you’ll answer a question for me.”
“Anything,” you sigh, enjoying each motion of his mouth over you. You feel the rumble of his chuckle at your quick response.
“How long?” He asks.
You slide your leg to brush against his cock, still covered by his boxer briefs before saying cheekily, “I didn’t bring a measuring tape with me but I’d say more than adequate.”
Bucky lets out a small moan at the contact and then chuckles, “Not what I meant.”
“Then what did you mean, baby?”
“How long did I waste not having you in my bed?” Bucky asks as he brings his face level to yours.
“You mean, how long have I wanted you or are you asking how long I’ve liked you?”
“Both,” Bucky narrows his eyes but gives you a small smile.
“If I’m really honest, I’ve always wanted you. You’re kinda hot, ya know?” You smile and bite your lip.
“And the other?” Bucky asks, flexing his hips into you so that his hard cock nestles between your legs.
You gasp and arch into him, “About five minutes after meeting you.”
“Seriously, when?” Bucky scoffs gently.
“You were so sweet and a little self-conscious and I just adored you,” you nudged his nose with yours, encouraging his lips to find yours. He kissed you, long and lovingly, while he released your hands. You both seemed to settle into each other as your hands explored, finally free. The heat began to return, hips flexing into each other, craving the friction, but before things got too carried away, you cradled Bucky’s face in your hands and forced him to look at you. “How long?” You repeat his question.
“Always,” he whispers passionately before taking your mouth again.
It was all you needed. You reached for the band of his underwear, wanting nothing left to separate you. You managed to get the offending garment off of him and circle his cock with your hand. He takes a sharp intake of breath and then groans. Definitely more than adequate, you think to yourself.
“Doll,” Bucky presses his forehead to yours, “I need to be inside you.”
“Oh, precious, you didn’t say please,” you tease him, rubbing the head of his cock through your slick. Your core aches to be filled but you can’t resist the chance to tease him just a bit as he’d done to you earlier.
Bucky chuckles, “Knew I should have kept you tied up.”
You rub the head of his cock over your clit and whimper loudly in his ear, “I still haven’t heard it.” You pump him in your hand but still won’t let him slip into you despite his attempts to maneuver his hips.
“Fuuuuck, please!” Buchy growls, sending a jolt of pleasure through you.
You waste no time lining him up with your entrance. He presses in a few agonizingly slow inches before grabbing your hands and hauling them above your head. He stares into you as he growls out, “I should pin you down,” he sinks in a little more, “and tease you mercilessly.” His hips slide slowly forward until he’s fully seated inside of you. “But I don’t think either of us would survive it right now.” He slides out a couple of inches before snapping his hips forward, taking your breath away. He sets a slow but driving pace, staring into your eyes as he fucks you. His hands slide down to hold your face and he kisses you fiercely, his thrusts coming a little faster as he does. You wrap your arms around his chest, pulling him to you, sliding one down to grab onto his ass. You encourage every movement, the drag of his cock tipping you closer to the precipice.
He buries his face in your neck, whispering praises and encouragement, “Shit, you’re squeezing me so tight, doll.”
“Bucky, fuck, I’m gonna-,” your breath catches as you fall over the edge. Your body sings as you come, trembling and moaning with each wave.
“You’re so fucking pretty, doll. So fucking pretty,” Bucky grits out as you clench around him. It only takes a few more sloppy thrusts for him to lose himself inside you. His hips flex with each aftershock that hits him.
Rolling to his side, Bucky pulls you against him. You nuzzle his chest as you both catch your breath. Despite the lethargy settling over both of you, Bucky's hands wander continuously over your skin and you bask in the attention.
“You'll stay, won't you?” Bucky whispers.
“I don't know,” you say sleepily, “Do you hog the covers?”
Bucky chuckles, “I'm pretty good at sharing.”
“Mmm, then I'll stay,” you yawn and a little giggle escapes you.
“What?” Bucky smiles at your mirth-filled eyes.
“That's the first time a cheesy pick up line ever worked on me,” you giggle again.
“I'll have to come up with some others. See if I get lucky again,” Bucky laughs as he kisses the top of your head.
“I'd say your chances are pretty good,” you smirk at him, “But maybe next time, I should be the one to pin you down.”
“Only if you say please, doll.”
Updates and taglist: Due to the unreliable nature of tags, I no longer keep a taglist. Updates for series will be made on Sundays Central Time Zone. Please follow my sideblog @tuiccimfanfiction and turn on notifications for updates. All series and new stories will be reblogged to it. You will only receive notifications when a new part or story is out! Nothing else will be blogged to the page. I can’t thank you enough for your support!
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#bucky barnes#bucky#marvel#bucky x reader#bucky x you#bucky barnes x reader#avengers#bucky fanfic#bucky barnes x you#captain america#Bucky#bucky barnes fanfic#bucky barnes fanfiction#bucky barnes fic#bucky barnes fluff#bucky barnes headcanons#bucky barnes imagine#bucky barnes imagines#bucky barnes oneshot#bucky barnes reader insert#bucky barnes drabble#bucky barnes one shot#bucky barnes smut#bucky barnes x female reader#bucky barnes x reader smut#bucky barns fanfiction#bucky drabble#bucky fic#bucky fluff#bucky imagine
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MJ's Masterlist - Bucky Barnes
Consider all of my works to be 18+, minors DNI.
Warnings can be found on the individual fics.
This masterlist will be regularly updated as I post more works.
🖤 - smut
🥀 - angst
☁️ - fluff
🥇 - most popular
🫶🏼 - my personal favs
One-Shots
What Am I To You? 🖤
Bigger Than He Was 🖤🥇
Strawberries 🖤🫶🏼
It Was Sunday 🖤☁️
Look At Me 🖤🥀
I Hate You
Against The Rules
Two-Part Fics
Flustered: Part 1, Part 2 🖤
Breathe: Part 1, Part 2
Series
Needs & Wants (Sex Pollen) 🖤🥀🥇
Time & Temptation (Roommates w/ Benefits, IN PROGRESS) 🖤
Off-Limits (Mafia AU, IN PROGRESS)
Christmas Season One-Shots, Two-Part Fics
Half-Tongue Rule 🖤
Insufferable 🖤
Making Sure 🖤🥀
Candy Cane 🖤
That Wasn't Quiet 🖤
Right Here 🖤
Wear That Again 🖤
Dreaming About Me? 🖤
Inevitable 🖤
We Don't Have to Stop 🖤☁️
Letters to Santa: Part 1, Part 2 🖤
#bucky barnes#bucky barnes fic#bucky barnes x reader#bucky barnes fanfiction#mcu#bucky barnes x you#marvel#the winter soldier#winter soldier#bucky barnes smut#masterlist#smut#reader insert
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An Empty Land - Bucky Barnes, Steve Rogers smut
The one with a little bit of degradation and humiliation
Warnings: smut, implicit previous consent, humiliation, degradation, jealousy, namecalling, submissive reader, sir kink, dominant Bucky, hair-pulling, poly!relationship, oral (m), dominant!Steve, gagging, kind of dacryphilia, voyeurism, shoe-grinding, dirty talk
A/N: this is part of the A Shared Future universe.
Bucky’s P.O.V.
“What the fuck do you think you’re wearing?” An incredulous laugh escaped me at the sight of my girlfriend clad in what could only be described as lingerie. Normally, that wouldn’t be a problem - if only she wasn’t wearing an open coat over it, making it very clear that the dress she had chosen for the evening wasn’t, in fact, something for my eyes only to take in.
She thought she could go out on our date like this.
“Buck…” Steve warned me in a low voice, probably anticipating the inevitable shit storm that was about to unfold, but I could only grin widely at the frown on her adorable face.
We’d talked about this before. She wanted to experiment more, this is exactly the type of situation we could try this.
“… A dress?” Her frown warned me of her genuine confusion, and I scoffed.
“Baby girl, back in my day, not even whores would be seen wearing this.” The silence that followed didn’t turn cold because I crossed the distance between us, forcing her to rest her weight on the wall as I inquired, “Tell me, sweetheart… Are you a whore?”
Her heavy breathing denounced she had caught on to my intentions, and she watched with parted lips as my finger slowly drew over her collarbones until it reached one of the straps of her dress.
“I’d answer him if I were you, darling.” Steve was onto it now, and I smirked down at her as she licked her lips, scrambling to adjust herself as one strap fell. “Wouldn’t want to leave him waiting, huh?”
She seemed unsure of what to do, breathing heavily with those fuck-me eyes of hers. God, I loved her.
“Yes, I am,” she suddenly answered, surprising me. I didn’t even have the time to come up with what to say when she continued, “if that’s what you want me to be, sir.”
Steve’s sharp inhale was the external reaction to my internal one. What my dominant mask didn’t allow me to share certainly did affect me. My cock hardened, the lines in my expression did too, and I was sure by now my eyes were nothing but pools of darkness, denouncing my desire.
“You think you’re pretty funny, huh?” I growled, pulling her by her hair to come closer to me, abandoning the wall. “Okay, if you’re so willing to be my little bitch, why don’t you drop to your knees right now?”
The sight of her doing just that was enough to have any man ruining their pants, I was sure of it. “Fuck, sweetheart…” Steve, of course, was close to breaking, but I wasn’t about to let this opportunity go to waste.
“What are you waiting for?” I asked, nodding towards her. “Get on with it.” A hand on my boyfriend’s chest reminded him what this was about. Our eyes met and whatever he saw on mine seemed to strengthen his resolve.
“You better suck him good.” Groaning, I threw my head back as her lips wrapped around the head of my member, tiny hand circling it as best as she could.
“God, I love when you get all dominant.” I pulled him by the back of his neck so I could slip my tongue in his mouth again, and when we finally broke apart to catch our breath, I found her watching us with lustful eyes, cock halfway into her throat already.
“What are you looking at, slut?” I growled, grabbing her by the hair to speed up her movements. “You better focus on this cock, you should be grateful that I even let you suck it.”
She hummed in appreciation, always such an eager cockslut. In all honesty, there was no reason to egg her on because she was nothing if not anxious to please and she made it very clear how much she loved to suck our cocks.
But we were playing a role here. And I was determined to see it through.
“God, what a mouth,” I groaned despite my best efforts, letting my head fall back as I felt Steve’s fingers run through my hair. I was tempted to crack. Almost. But then she pulled away to boast and I snarled, holding her by the back of her head.
“Don’t you dare.” She froze, lips still wrapped around my member, eyes wide as saucers. “Don’t you fucking stop.” She hesitated for just a second before going back to work, and I smirked as I curled my hand around Steve’s nape once more.
“Come back here.” I got lost in his kiss as she diligently sucked me off, the sounds of her vigorous slurping reverberating across the hallway. I only realized something else was going on when Steve abruptly pulled away to moan, eyes closed as he too let his head fall back in pleasure.
“Fuck!” Looking down, I found her mouth still milking me, but one of her hands had now made its way around my boyfriend’s cock, and the sight of it had me tingling on the inside.
“You really are a whore, huh?” Pulling her from my member by her hair, I forced her to turn towards him. “If you want his cock so badly, better treat him right, sweetheart.”
And then I proceeded to gag her on his cock, taking sick pleasure on the way tears immediately rose up to her eyes. Her hands went up to his thighs, scratching the soft skin, and I loved how seeing them like this didn’t spark an ounce of jealousy in my body.
It made me believe that we truly were soulmates.
Steve moaned loudly, replacing my hand with his on the back of her head so I could watch the scene from a distance. A couple of steps from them, I saw the way she was grinding against his shoe, desperate for any sort of relief in that hungry cunt of hers, and it made me laugh.
Y/N’s P.O.V.
“You just need to be fucked, huh?” Bucky taunted, tugging me by my hair and making me moan at the pleasurable sting. I nodded eagerly, desperate to satisfy him so maybe he would satisfy me because I was aching for him and Steve.
“Yes.” It was all I needed to say. He could see the need in my eyes and I knew he smelled my arousal too. It’s why he looked that hungry and desperate. Steve was much the same, I would bet on it.
Bucky leaned closer and closer until he could glue his forehead to mine, a dangerous smirk on his lips. “Can’t wait to have our cocks inside your holes,” he whispered, “Filling you up like the whore that you are, huh?”
I could only nod.
A hiss escaped me as he dragged me by my hair towards the bed, angry with my lack of words, and so I struggled to force some out. “Yes, yes!” I repeated as he threw me on the mattress. “Use me.”
Steve was the one who approached me, dipping the bed with his weight as he pulled me closer to him so he could devour my mouth. “We’re gonna ruin you, darling,” he warned me when we parted.
I couldn’t wait.
#my fics#steve rogers smut#bucky barnes smut#steve rogers x reader#bucky barnes x reader#steve rogers reader#bucky barnes reader#smut#steve rogers reader inserts#bucky barnes reader inserts#bucky barnes reader insert#steve rogers reader insert
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Are You Bored Yet?
Pairing: College!Bucky x Tutor!Reader
Summary: God, you hated Bucky. Bucky probably hated you, too. Maybe. It was hard to tell when he was drunk and calling you pretty at a party you shouldn't have gone to.
Word count: 8k
Warnings: Alcohol, annoyance to lovers, a bit of angst, a scary man in a parking lot, frat!bucky c:
a/n: I am so excited to finally post something!! It only took me four months 😅 If you enjoy it please please let me know ❤️❤️
Masterlist
~~
12:59 pm.
The birchwood table nestled in the back of the library was long but otherwise empty, the only thing occupying it being your laptop and quite a few books. He wasn’t late. Yet. You weren’t going to hold onto that hope, however.
Tutoring Bucky Barnes was not what you had in mind when you volunteered for the peer assistance program at your university. It was true you were only using the club to boost your resume, but you had assumed the only people reaching out for help would be those that actually wanted it. Unfortunately, that was not the case.
Sure, Bucky wanted help. Just not with anything that actually warranted the word. He wanted help sweet talking the cops so they wouldn't shut down his parties. He wanted help recruiting girls to show up to his parties. And—the one thing you could actually do—he wanted help passing his classes with the minimum GPA required to not get kicked out of his frat. So he could continue to throw parties.
Everything in his life revolved around his fraternity, which made you very important to him. When he wanted you to be.
With your apparently astounding knowledge of biology (you took notes during lectures), you became the star in Bucky’s life every Monday and Wednesday from 1:00 pm (give or take ten minutes) to 2:00 pm. He was also very attentive during the thirty minute phone calls he initiated prior to tests, and always looked happy to see you when he passed you devouring a bagel at the crack of dawn in the dining hall.
Every situation in which you had come in contact with Bucky was isolated and purposeful (minus the bagel). You didn’t hang out or invite each other places, and you were almost positive that if you were to see him in his natural habitat, you would want to tutor him even less than you did now, and that was saying something. So you were important to Bucky during the times you were supposed to be important, and he was important to you in the sense that he was a job.
But as your laptop blinked the numbers 1:22 pm back at your unimpressed expression, Bucky became much less important today. You took in a long, tortured breath before sending your gaze up to the ceiling, giving it another three minutes before you truly gave up on him for the day.
One minute.
Two minutes.
The library really needed new ceiling tiles.
1:25 pm and you snapped your laptop shut. Your fingers itched to send yet another complaint about this whole ordeal Natasha’s way, but you stopped yourself. She had already heard plenty about Barnes at this point, plus she always gave you a weird look every time you came stomping into the apartment, grumbling about something else he had done.
You hated her weird looks, all raised eyebrows and stiff lips.
With your backpack heaved onto the table and your things slowly funneling in, you figured a nap was the best reward for sitting in the library for an unnecessary twenty-five minutes. Your last prickle of irritation was stifled at the prospect of a warm bed as you stood, only to find that irritation had returned to you tenfold. In the form of Bucky Barnes.
“You going somewhere?” he seemed to taunt, his bag slung casually over one shoulder.
Your jaw ticked. “Home.”
His mouth turned up at one side, an expression you had learned meant he found you amusing. He never seemed to outright laugh at your annoyance, but apparently, it was hard to tamp down all of the joy he got out of it. Bucky took two long strides to meet the table you were attempting to abandon.
“But I still got about—” he checked his watch “—thirty-three minutes? And an arsenal of questions about amino acids. Help a guy out.”
“And I still got—” you checked the nonexistent watch on your wrist “—no patience for this today. You’re over twenty minutes late, Barnes. Use that watch to set an alarm on Wednesday and I’ll tell you everything you’ll inevitably forget about amino acids then.”
He groaned, rounding the table to set firm hands on your shoulders as he hovered behind you. “Sit. I’ll buy you a coffee and I promise I won’t be late on Wednesday, okay? I was dealing with something before this and lost track of time.”
“Were you dealing with another sorority girl in your bed? Who was it last week? Amber? No, Michelle?”
“It’s a Monday, y/n. Cut me some slack.”
“You came to me on a Wednesday with a hangover,” you deadpanned.
Bucky grimaced, the expression visible to you as he managed to guide you back into your chair. “Oat milk, right? A double?”
You grumbled, crossing your arms over your chest as he tossed his bag by your feet and jogged over to the coffee cart just outside the library. He fumbled with his wallet when he went to pay, and you watched him point to the carton of oat milk the barista had yet to reach for. His greek letters were printed on the gray hoodie he had haphazardly thrown over his shoulders, and you held the reprimand on your tongue when you saw the matching sweatpants he donned.
The last time he had shown up in his pajamas—late—you’d had some choice words for him. Bucky turned around with your coffee then, poking the straw through the lid and sending you a sheepish smile through the window.
He was lucky you accepted bribes.
~~
“Please,” the boy across from you continued to beg, a pen held loosely between pliant fingers. “Just ask her, that’s all I want. You can even come too.”
“Oh, wow, the great frat president letting me come to his stupid toga party? How could I ever thank you enough?”
It was Wednesday now, and Bucky was surprisingly on time to the tutoring session. You’d gotten through about half of the last bio lecture before he started asking you ridiculous questions that had nothing to do with the content. Today, he was dead set on getting your lab partner from chemistry to go to his party this weekend.
“Okay, yeah, you could come to whatever party you want, you know? I put you on the list—but this one will be even better if you’d just do this one thing for me.”
You finally tore your eyes from your laptop, glancing lazily at him. “And what would make this one so—wait, what list?”
He waved you off. “The one at the door. Did it like… the second week we started this? Anyways, Wanda?”
You let this new information settle and tried to ignore whatever implications came with being on some frat list thanks to Bucky. He had never explicitly invited you to any of his parties over the past few months and you had never asked to come. Apparently, you could have shown up whenever you wanted to and had a grand old time.
Not that that sounded the least bit grand.
Bucky was looking at you still, all pleading features and a soft, infuriating smile on his lips. When he wasn’t talking to random girls in the library or taking annoying phone calls in the middle of your sessions, he was sort of endearing. In a terrible, awful sense.
You groaned, throwing yourself back against your chair in begrudging defeat. “I don’t even talk to her outside of chem. Don’t you think it’d be a little weird to invite her to a party that I’m not even going to?”
“So come,” he answered simply, as if that was in the realm of possibilities.
“Yeah,” you scoffed. “Sure, I’ll come to your party, Barnes.”
“Great,” he grinned. “Vision’s gonna be so hyped.”
You watched as he pulled his phone from his pocket and kept your lie to yourself. He wouldn’t notice that you didn’t show up on Friday, and likely wouldn’t even bring it up the following Monday. He always had such vibrant, headache-inducing stories that you were sure your absence would be nothing more than a fleeting footnote.
“You have a toga, right?” he mumbled, face still screwed up in concentration as he continued his text.
“Isn’t it just a sheet all twisted up?” you asked, shutting your computer. Tutoring was obviously over.
Bucky pocketed his phone again, brows raised in amusement. “Depends on your motives for the night.”
“And my motives wouldn’t be to… wear a toga?”
He chuckled and huffed out your name, resting an arm along the back of the chair to his right—your chair. “Other motives. Like if you’re trying to get someone’s attention.”
You blinked at the warmth along your back. “Oh, of course. Then I would twist up a pillowcase instead, right?”
“Something like that.”
He smelled like coconut. Like a day at the beach but afterwards, when the sunscreen still lingered in the air but fresh clothes covered skin that had been warmed by the sun. You could usually ignore whatever expensive combination he had on his skin, but when he got close like this it was almost impossible.
Part of you always wanted to chuck his arm away when he leaned over you, but another part of you liked that he kept it there. It was a strange part of you, the same one that relished the looks you got from sorority girls in the library and harbored a sense of pride each time he made a blatant attempt to touch you.
You had spent fleeting moments analyzing these emotions and chalked them up to some internalized desire for validation. Nothing else. Bucky was a hot guy and everyone knew that, so having his attention—in any capacity—felt nice. Sometimes. Meaning right now it was nice that he was looking at you with his arm practically glued to your back, but next week when he showed up late with a hangover and tried to steal the jacket off your body it would be not so nice.
The duality of man.
It helped your partial insanity that Bucky would never actually be interested in you. You weren’t in a sorority or interested to his parent’s money, and, worst of all, you didn’t know how to maneuver a sheet into a toga. When he put his arm around you or moved your hair from your eyes as you leaned over a book, it was probably out of habit. It felt nice, but you knew reality. This was a passing phase, and by the summer you wouldn’t even speak to him anymore.
“I’ll text you more info about everything,” Bucky called, pulling you from your thoughts. “You can come early and I’ll help you with that pillowcase.”
You froze, the book you were shoving into your bag pausing in your hands. “Uh, maybe.”
“No, seriously, it’d be better if you came early. I was kidding about the pillowcase but if you come on time it’ll be too crazy for me to show you around.”
“You don’t have to show me around, Bucky. I’ve been to a house party before.”
“Y/n, are you not coming to this thing?” Bucky accused, swiping the book from your hands and softly tossing it on the table. It still made a loud thud that had a few bitter looks thrown your way.
“Dude!” you whispered, meeting each mean gaze with your apologetic one. “Why does it matter if I come? You just wanted Wanda anyway.”
He knocked your hand away when you went to reach for the book again, encircling your wrist with his fingers. “You just lied to me. Straight to my face. You said you’d come and now you gotta.”
You gave his fingers an experimental tug, but he was unrelenting in his soft grip. You glared at him through your lashes, meeting his uncharacteristically stern gaze that contrasted the humor on his lips.
“You ever hear of sarcasm?” you whispered with a half-hearted bite.
“Unfortunately, that’s about all I hear outta you,” he smirked back.
You rolled your eyes, finally yanking hard enough to free yourself from him. “Then you should have known I wasn’t going to come. No matter what ‘list’ you put me on.”
“What else could you possibly have going on on a Friday night?”
Ouch. You felt your brows furrow even though you didn’t will them to, and even worse, you felt a rash defensiveness lodge itself in your throat. You hated the heat that now prickled along the skin of your neck, and you hated even more how it extinguished all of the good warmth you had felt from him earlier.
This was humiliation, surely—the kind that only came from feeling small.
“You don’t have to be a dick,” you seethed, snapping up the remainder of your belongings. “Just because I don’t want to go to your stupid frat doesn't mean I have nothing to do. I don’t spend all of my time hoping to get invited to ridiculous parties.”
Bucky shifted up in his seat, eyes blown just a fraction wider. “Whoa, I didn’t mean—hey, stop a sec, I didn’t mean it like that.”
“Whatever, Bucky,” you droned, as a new temperature seeped into the skin of your palms and made them clammy. Any semblance of delusion you’d fallen into earlier was long gone now, but you knew to expect that. He wasn’t interested in you and you weren’t interested in him. But embarrassment wasn’t a good feeling, regardless of a multitude of reality checks.
Bucky got up when you did, his clothes looking creased and lived in. “We still have time in our session,” he defended, arm jutting out to the table. “C’mon, I didn’t mean you don’t have friends.”
Your glare sharpened. “Great, another insinuation.”
Bucky sputtered out incoherent words as you continued your trek outside, resorting to grabbing your wrist again, this time with more urgency. You felt the heat in you simmer down to a dull throb as he made contact, mostly out of respect for your future self. If you made this a huge deal it would only embarrass you more.
“Look, it doesn’t even matter, okay?” you huffed, but he just tugged you forward. It was then that you realized you were in the doorway of the library, effectively blocking it off from anyone trying to leave. Bucky pulled you close enough to his chest that you weren’t in the way anymore. His cologne was back with a vengeance, your nose just inches from his collar.
You took a steadying breath, blinking away the remnants of shame. “It doesn’t matter, I overreacted.”
He clicked his tongue. “I’m still apologizing. I didn’t mean any of that stuff you were talking about.”
Of course he did. You were sure he thought it all the time. He just didn’t mean to say it out loud.
“It’s fine,” you rushed. “I have to go, anyway. Office hours.”
“Okay,” he nodded, soft and low, like he just remembered he was in a library. “You’ll still come this weekend, right? Even if Wanda can’t?”
“You have some kind of girl quota you need to meet?” you pressed.
Bucky smiled, still so close to you that you could feel the small breath that accompanied the expression. “And she’s back.”
You left without promising anything, and Bucky left feeling like you had.
~~
Sometime between Wednesday and Friday, your detestment for frat parties had snowballed into determination. You were going to go and you were going to look like you were having so much fun it was ridiculous. Then, on Monday, when Bucky would usually poke and prod about what you’d gotten up to over the past few days, you were going to pretend that it was nothing for you. That you did that every weekend.
Of course, you didn’t. Your weekends typically consisted of calm nights with friends or dinners near campus. You’d been to a party before, sure, but you didn’t exactly frequent those kinds of scenes.
Bucky had continued to make it clear that you were invited. He had texted you a few times, prompting you to come and thanking you for getting Wanda to agree. The messages looked strange under the plethora of biology related questions, but that just spurred you further into action. You weren’t just a tutor with no social life, and Bucky was going to see that tonight. You couldn’t remember doing something out of pure spite before, but you figured having fun to prove a point wasn’t the worst thing.
Wanda pulled you out of your thoughts as the Uber rounded the last dark corner and revealed an overcrowded house with too many lights on. She rambled on about some guy she couldn’t wait to see and confirmed that she would likely be spending the night. You expected as much; it hadn’t taken much convincing to get her to come. If this night resulted in anything good it was apparently the blossoming relationship between your new friend and a man you’d never met.
Wanda continued to chat as she yanked you out of the car and past the yard littered with sparse grass. The music was loud already—the type of loud that you needed to be at least a little drunk to enjoy. And that was the plan.
“Okay, if I start dancing on a table you pull me down. And if you start dancing on a table I support you, right?” Wanda giggled, her voice now raised as you walked past the threshold of the house.
“Exactly,” you yelled back. A guy nodded to you as he leaned against the front door, his eyes glancing up from his phone and then returning. It seemed Bucky’s ‘list’ was a page on some guy’s notes app. How luxurious. “Let’s drink.”
The next hour was a blur. You tried your hardest to get as drunk as possible and Wanda tried her hardest to find the British man she was enamored with. You hadn’t seen Bucky, but you figured he wasn’t looking for you too hard since you hadn’t responded to any of his texts. Not out of anger, but because you didn’t know what to say. Somehow, with alcohol warming your blood and music vibrating your skin, none of that mattered anymore.
You: Your house is soooo dirty
Your phone jostled in your grip, people bumping into you from every side. When he didn’t answer in the thirty seconds you spent staring at the screen, you locked it and continued on with your mission.
After a few too many shots of hard liquor, you switched to beer. Gross, but decidedly less likely to make you pass out on the staircase of this house. Because you weren’t lying in your text—it was slightly disgusting. You figured you should clarify that with Bucky. You reached for your phone once again, knocking your head against the wall in the process and giggling to yourself. You had no idea where Wanda went.
The device was snatched from your hands just as quickly as the screen had lit up your face.
“You ever answer this thing?” an accusing voice called out. “Or do you just insult people and put it on do not disturb?”
The look on Bucky’s face would have made you roll your eyes in any other circumstance. Right now, however, it had a startled laugh bursting past your lips. You clutched at your stomach as the laugh grew and you found yourself tipping forward until your forehead met his chest. You felt delirious, almost silly. A hand came around to rest on the back of your neck.
“Alright, alright.” Bucky’s words rumbled against your face. “I get it, this is hilarious.”
“Your… your face,” you breathed out, catching your breath enough to part from him. “It was all—” you mimicked the straight line of his eyebrows, voice raising in a mocking tone. “—You don’t ever answer your phone. You’re so boring, y/n, answer your phone.”
“I didn’t call you boring. Hey—hey,” Bucky stressed, reaching for you as you leaned too far to the side, a smile still lingering on your face. “Jesus, y/n, how much did you have to drink?”
You went to mock him again, but his fingers on your jaw stopped you. He tilted your head up and to the left, and although he was much more composed than you were, you could still smell the alcohol on his breath. You scrunched up your nose as he continued his inspection.
“Why’re you being so uptight?” you slurred, trying and failing to push away from him. “I thought you were all like, ‘I’m Bucky and I party and get drunk and have sex with girls.’”
Bucky pulled you forward as you laughed at your impression of him, his shaking head making you blink away a bout of dizziness. You toppled over a set of stairs as he threaded his fingers through yours, and then you stumbled through a doorway and onto carpeted floors. Being pressed into an uncomfortable chair was the most jarring action, the world still spinning as you sat.
“You’re even more mean when you're drunk,” you heard Bucky mumble. You couldn’t quite catch him as he moved around whatever room you were in. “And I don’t talk like that.”
You let out a careless sigh and leaned back. “You soooo talk like that.”
Something cold pressed to your hand, followed by another touch to the back of your neck. You gazed down at the water bottle being guided up to your lips and couldn’t find it in you to fight against it, despite the small spark of defiance on the tip of your tongue. After about four large swallows, Bucky was satisfied.
He asked again how much you’d had to drink.
You answered that you didn’t know—that it didn’t matter because he wasn’t your dad and you were having fun like you always did. He bit the inside of his cheek and didn’t say anything for the next few moments.
And then, “Thought you weren’t gonna come tonight.”
You hummed, rolling your head against the chair to look up at his standing form. “Of course I was going to come. I love parties. Love drinking alcohol.”
His expression twisted into something you couldn’t recognize. “God, you’re so drunk.”
“M’not even that drunk!”
“You’re willingly in my room right now. You’re plastered.”
“Maybe I want to be in your room.”
“We both know that’s not true.”
You chuckled breathily, closing your eyes so you wouldn’t have to see the pretty flush of Bucky’s face. “You think you know everything, don’t you? Don’t know much about me though. Or biology.”
Bucky kneeled down to the height of the chair. “And what do I not know about you?”
“So much.”
“How much?”
You bit into your lip and cracked an eye open, catching the amusement that had slipped past the strange mask of his emotions. With blissful ignorance, you heaved yourself forward on the chair, your nose a few inches from Bucky’s. His eyes didn’t waver from yours as you swayed.
“You don’t know that I’m the most interesting person on Earth,” you boasted, fingers gripping the upholstery of your seat.
“That right?” Bucky probed, his voice a melodic hum.
“Yup, I’m always really busy and even though you think I’m some boring biology tutor I’m actually super cool and, like, go to raves and stuff.”
His brow twitched but his mouth stayed soft. “I’ve never said you were boring. And I don’t think you’ve ever been to a rave.”
You groaned loudly and flopped against the backrest of the chair. “See! I’m telling you I do all this cool stuff and I’m so drunk my fingers are buzzing and you still don’t believe me.”
You crossed your arms with a huff, a small pout forming on your lips. In any other context, this behavior would probably embarrass you to no end. In the dim light of Bucky’s room where you felt the feeling leave your fingers and the care leave your mind, you were just disgruntled, not embarrassed. If you remembered this tomorrow the latter would surely catch up to you.
Bucky stared at you from his spot on the ground, his gaze a bit foggy and unfocused. He was clearly intoxicated, as you deduced earlier, and it made him look more wild. Mused hair and pink cheeks, he looked like he’d been having plenty of fun before he found you. It was distracting. He was distracting you from proving that you were having a blast.
“What?” you snapped, the tone a testament to the drunken fit you were throwing.
“You’re so fucking pretty.”
He must be really, really drunk. Despite your clouded mind, you knew that, but the words affected you just the same. Your lips parted as a new lightness both lit up and compressed your chest, and Bucky watched the movement.
“Yeah,” you scoffed, but it was hardly a scoff. “Sure, Bucky. How much did you have to drink—”
“I’m not lying. I’ve thought about you in my room for weeks and now you’re here and you’re so pretty. Even when you’re yelling at me.”
“You’ve… thought about me in your room?”
Bucky shuffled forward and you subconsciously parted your legs to allow the space for him. “I think about you everywhere.”
This was crazy. It was certifiably insane. A voice in the back of your head—Natasha’s voice, it sounded like—was screaming at you to stop and think about the situation at hand. He was drunk, you were even more drunk, and he was far too close to you. He had ushered you in here with good intentions and had sobered you up a fraction, but things had taken a turn and this was a sensitive situation. The kind of sensitive that altered your reality and his and probably a bunch of other people’s you’d never met.
Or it could be nothing and you were over exaggerating.
But then Bucky’s hand was warming your thigh. You’d felt the press of it on your back and your shoulder and your head before, but it had never been on your thigh. It felt heavy there, hot. His other hand moved to touch your face and he propped himself up on one knee. His thumb brushed your cheek. Words tumbled from your mouth before you registered that you were speaking.
“Are you going to kiss me?”
Why would you ask that? Who asks Bucky Barnes if he’s going to kiss them?
“Would you let me?” he responds.
“Yes.”
He didn’t waste any time, his mouth hot against yours. He tasted like mint and vodka and his lips moved so slowly it ached. You had expected a fervor behind his lips, but instead you got a build up, an orchestra reaching its crescendo. He was kissing you like you were important, like this wasn’t some random hookup in his bedroom at 1 o’clock in the morning, and you had to catch your breath when he parted from you.
But he moved back in so quickly after your brief respite, and you were eager to give him more. This was crazy, insane. This was the best kiss you’d ever have and also the worst. This was months of staring at his stupid lips when he tried explaining concepts back to you, but this was also weeks of feeling small in his presence. Bucky slid his hand back to press against your hair and you didn’t feel small anymore.
A loud thud from the hallway interrupted the silence you’d created, and Bucky pulled back, keeping his hands on you as he craned his neck around to stare at the door. He waited a beat, and then two, and then he turned back to you. The moment was gone, but he was still touching you. You weren’t sure what you wanted—if you wanted him to kiss you again or run out the door—but when he slid his hands from your body and rubbed them down his jeans, it became clear that was not what you wanted.
A knot formed in your stomach when he met your gaze again, and you tried blinking the feeling away. It didn’t work.
“Um,” Bucky began, his voice sounding more clear, his tone not holding the weight it had.
Your plan had backfired. Severely. This was a mess and you needed to save yourself before you ended this night even more humiliated.
You were still drunk. Pretend you were still plastered.
You giggled airily, the sound burning your throat. “That was loud.”
Bucky blinked at you in what you assumed was disbelief. “Probably just someone trying to find the bathroom,” he clarified.
You shrugged, nudging him back with your knee as you stood from the chair. “I’m bored now.” You took fast steps to the door, your words foreign to you. “Thanks for the water,” you all but gritted out.
You expected him to get up. Not to run after you or proclaim his love or even say anything. But you expected him to get up.
He didn’t, and you couldn’t understand how the knot in your stomach had moved to your throat. Or how it made tears spring to your eyes when your feet hit the sidewalk outside. Your Uber came and you couldn’t understand how you felt hot and cold at the same time. How it was freezing outside but you were sweating.
You couldn’t understand why you were crying over a boy that so often infuriated you, or why he kissed you in his bedroom. The reasonable side of you sent gentle reminders that he was in a frat and kissing people is just what he did. All the time. But the unreasonable side of you won out tonight, and it was telling you that this felt different.
That you should be different, somehow.
~~
Bucky: You’re here???
Bucky: Where are you?
Bucky: Y/n answer your damn phone
Bucky: This place is fucking packed tonight I thought you weren’t coming
You stared at the text messages you hadn’t read last night, the bright light of your phone burning into your retinas. You had a brutal hangover, and the memory of the disaster in Bucky’s room felt like an even bigger one.
You’d gone through a myriad of emotions the night before, tossing around excuses and speeches in your head until you were so exhausted you let the alcohol in your system lull you to sleep. With all of that delirious thinking, you’d landed on blacking out. You were going to tell Bucky you blacked out last night and couldn’t remember a thing. He obviously wouldn’t care and would probably appreciate it.
Saturday was slow-moving. Reruns of television shows and bags of popcorn and overthinking. Natasha was at her parent’s house in the city, so you had no one to bounce your racing thoughts off of. You certainly weren’t going to text her about it.
When the evening finally rolled around and your attempts at distracting yourself with mind-numbing movies failed, you checked your email. You always tried not to on the weekends, but doing anything else sounded much less appealing.
Unfortunately, you didn’t get past the first one.
From: University Peer Assistance Program
Dear Y/n Y/l/n,
This is an automated message from the campus peer assistance program. We thank you for your continued devotion to the betterment of students at this school. At this time, your tutoring placement with James Barnes has ended. We will search for a new placement to fill your current hours.
Thank you,
University Peer Assistance
You blinked at the email, then blinked again. The breath left your chest and the muscles on your face twitched, but you were otherwise frozen.
This was what you wanted, wasn’t it? To be free from the haughty frat boy that didn’t even listen to you when you tried to help him raise his grades. You wanted someone nice, someone that had the same goals as you and appreciated the color-coded notes you took for them. Bucky only tried to get a rise out of you. He sat too close and made fun of you and put you on lists you didn’t ask to be on.
But he had kissed you. He had kissed you and then tutor-dumped you.
You knew you weren’t his type, but were you really that bad? Was the kiss so terrible?
Every inferiority complex you had developed exploded. You over-analyzed things that had already happened, things you had said. Not just at the party, but in the library, the coffee shops, the lecture halls.
Was he really willing to risk his position in the frat just to avoid you?
The strangle tickle of tears itched to be released from your eyes again, but you pressed it down. No, this wasn’t on you. He had kissed you. He had dragged you into his room and stumbled on pretty words. If he didn’t want you to tutor him anymore because of his stupid mistake, fine.
His mistake.
That word felt wrong.
You tossed your phone on the couch with vigor. The clock above the television read out 10 pm, but that meant little to you as you slid on your shoes at the front door. You were wearing sweatpants and a jacket that was far too big on you, sadness and frustration and raw confusion propelling you down your apartment stairs.
Ice cream would fix this.
The only place open at this time was the gas station at the edge of campus. It wasn’t university affiliated and was usually overrun with belligerent greek life trying to buy alcohol, but the decision-making part of your brain was currently shut off.
Ice cream, anger, probably watching tiktoks until your eyes were too heavy to keep open—those were the only things rattling in your head.
You yanked open the gas station door after your short walk, the glass smudged and fogged from the cold night. The fluorescent lights aggravated the headache you’d been sporting all day and the floor made sticking noises with each step you took. To add insult to injury, there were only three cartons of ice cream left, and they weren’t even the good flavors. Grabbing the least offensive one, you made your way to the small line of people by the register.
“Nice outfit.”
Too enthralled by the disappointing ingredient list on the side of your ice cream, you had missed the tall man now looming at your shoulder. You whipped your head around with a start, taking a step back, smelling menthol and asphalt and nothing good.
“Thanks,” you quietly replied.
He waited until you turned back around to continue. “You go to school over here?”
You kept your gaze forward. “Um, yeah.”
“Nice. I graduated a few years back. Marketing.”
“Cool,” you replied. What had compelled you to leave your phone on the couch? This night sucked.
You found reprieve in the line moving, the employee calling you over to check out. As soon as you paid—a few dollar bills funneled out of your pocket with shaky hands—you booked it. Your ice cream burned in your palm but you didn’t care, feet carrying you out the door and into the dimly lit parking lot. You fisted your keys in your fingers; pointless, you knew, but a small comfort.
The man’s voice returned with the chime of the bell over the gas station door. “Wait! Wait, I’m Beck. I own a business nearby.”
You should have kept walking, but one of your fatal flaws was, apparently, people pleasing. You turned to him. He smiled at you but it made your stomach twist.
“Oh, nice,” you responded, rocking back on your heels.
“We should connect. Maybe go for coffee or something?” He took a step forward. You fought the urge to take one back. His beard was unkempt and he held a six pack in his white-knuckled grip.
“Um, I don’t know. I’m pretty busy with finals coming up. Plus, I’m not really in the business field.”
“Not for business then,” he smiled again, teeth dull in the streetlight.
Just agree. If you agreed you could block him soon after and everything would be fine.
You took too long to answer. He took the final step forward to arrive in your space and wrapped his fingers around your bicep. “C’mon, I’m not asking you to marry me or anything.”
Frozen by fear, you let out a weak laugh. The pint in your hand was sticking to your skin now in a way that would be painful when you tried to let go of it later. Your breath rattled in your chest when you laughed again.
“Sure, okay.” But he didn’t let go of your arm, instead sliding it down to the bone of your wrist.
“What about now?” he posed. “You don’t look too busy. I can make you something at my place.”
He was at least ten years older than you. You attempted to pull yourself from his grasp to no avail. Maybe reasoning would work.
“My roommate's waiting for me,” you lied. “Could you let go? I sprained my wrist at the gym last week,” you lied again.
He refused with a shake of his head. You took a panicked glance inside the gas station to your right. No one was looking.
“Please let go of me.”
The call of your name from the other side of the parking lot initially sent more unbearable fear down your spine. But then the owner of that voice registered in your brain, and although it had been the cause of your recent internal strife, you couldn't be more grateful to hear it.
He said your name again, closer now and questioning. Bucky jogged up to the pair of you, saw your wrist and the man holding it hostage, and looked back up at you with confused, wild eyes.
“You know this guy?” he asked, jutting his thumb out at Beck.
“No,” you whispered. The word was short but the syllable still trembled.
Bucky didn’t look confused anymore. He looked pissed. “Wanna take your fucking hands off her?”
Beck was tall, but Bucky was taller. And angry. Beck released your wrist and raised his hands in a placating gesture. “Whoa, man, no need for the theatrics. I’m guessing you’re here to stock up for a party? I used to be in Sigma Nu.”
When Bucky’s silent glare failed to dampen, Beck continued with, “We were just planning a night at my place, right?”
His nod in your direction made your breath catch. Bucky took his piercing gaze off of Beck and softened it as it fell on you. You wanted to respond, but words were gone. They were impossible. Your ice cream was melting.
“Yeah, I think we’re done here,” Bucky scoffed, placing his arm around your shoulder. He guided you past the wall of a man, making sure to drive his shoulder into his chest as he went. Beck went to say more, to protest or whine, but Bucky shot him such a scathing look it almost made you wither.
The smell of coconut and spices and a hint of whisky met your nose, and it was familiar. It was safe. You fumbled with the keys in your hands as your feet guided you wherever Bucky was going, and then you fumbled even more, soft jingling disrupting the softness of footfall. God, why wouldn’t you stop shaking?
A hand fell atop yours, crunching the keys to a halt. You stared down at them, unsteady breath hitting the tanned fingers that served as your current anchor.
“Look at me, y/n.”
You couldn’t. You couldn’t do anything.
“Sweetheart, eyes up. All you gotta do.” Bucky’s voice was as soft as it was last night. That was the only reason you were able to follow his request. “There she is,” he hummed.
He removed his arm from your shoulders and shifted in front of you, placing his hand on your cheek. You ignored that it felt the same as it had last night. You ignored that you wanted it to feel the same for him, too.
“You okay?” he asked, tilting his neck down to better see your face. His thumb brushed under your eye. “He hurt you?”
You shook your head, whispering no, whispering that you were fine.
Bucky nodded to himself, eyes tracking down to your toes and then back up again. He must have mistaken your shaking for coldness because the next thing he did was guide you into the car behind him. You didn’t know it was his.
He blasted the heat the second he got in. He had shuffled you into your seat with his hands before that, smoothed your hair down and closed the door after you were settled and not shaking as hard. The heat dried out your eyes. It distracted you enough to let words form.
“Thank you,” you said. “He wouldn’t leave me alone. I didn’t bring my phone with me. I should’ve.”
“Of course.”
There was a beat of silence. The relief you had felt earlier had been muddled down to an awkward pit in your stomach, and you weren’t sure if Bucky felt it too or if he was still riding a testosterone-fueled adrenaline high.
You wanted to go home now; this was uncomfortable and you had felt Bucky’s lips on yours less than twenty-four hours ago with no closure. He obviously didn’t want to be around you. This was probably a responsibility thing for him.
“I can… I can walk home now. The guy left. I’m just a quarter mile away and you probably have to stock up or whatever.”
He looked at you with a pinched expression. “I’m not letting you walk home after that. You kiddin’ me?”
“I’ll be fine, really. I walk over here all the time.”
“You get harassed all the time too?”
“No…”
“Exactly. So you’re not walking home.”
“Bucky—”
“Look I’m not gonna kiss you again, alright? So you don’t have to turn down a ride because of that.”
Your ice cream was soup at this point. You let it roll into your lap as you clamped your mouth shut just to open it again. Bucky ran a rough hand through his hair before dropping it on the steering wheel, clutching at it with no place to go.
“I’m not following,” you finally relented.
A loud sigh released from his nose. “You don’t have to worry about me kissing you again. I just want to make sure you get home safe and then I’ll leave you alone.”
“Worry about—you’re the one trying to avoid me,” you snapped, frozen fingers pointing to your chest. “You tutor-dumped me.”
“Tutor-dumped? How do you…” he trailed off.
“I get an email when you make a change request, Bucky.”
He stared at you for a moment, lips parted and unmoving. He clenched his jaw a moment later, a red tint adorning his cheeks.
“Well, you—you—look, I know you don’t like me, y/n. You’ve made that clear,” he stuttered, words getting louder as he moved his hands around with each one. “But I like you. I like when you get mad at me and when you yell at me for not listening and when you get all embarrassed when I play with your hair. And I’ve been trying to get you to come to one of my parties since we started this whole thing, but every time I talk about them you seem to like me even less.
“If I had known insulting you would get your attention, I woulda done that week one,” he exasperated. You sat up in your seat but he continued. “I didn’t mean any of that shit you thought I did. You’re not boring. And I didn’t mean to kiss you, but you looked—well, I already told you.”
“So you don’t want me to be your tutor anymore because you like me?” You spoke slowly, each word careful.
“No,” he sighed, frustrated. “I can’t be around you because I kissed you and you didn’t care. Because I’ll want to kiss you all the time and you didn’t even wanna kiss me once. I know we were drunk, I get that, but I’ve wanted that for a long time and I need to move on. It’s nothing against your… tutoring skills. If that’s what you’re worried about”
“But you talk about hooking up with other girls all the time, Bucky. To me.”
“You ever hear of lying?”
“Why would you—”
“You really gonna make me live out all of my failures with you?”
You’d read so many things wrong. Taken so many things the wrong way. You figured the email earlier was the final nail in the coffin, but this was something else entirely. This was Bucky, sitting next to you in his car looking distressed and frazzled with his hair six different directions, telling you that he’s been trying to get your attention since he met you. That you weren’t small or insignificant or boring.
It was probably a terrible idea to follow through with your next thought. You’d probably get hurt in the long run. But you did it anyway.
“I wanted you to kiss me.” Bucky’s head whipped towards you. You bit the inside of your cheek and said, “I want you to kiss me all the time.”
He whispered your name. It sounded like the air had left every corner of his body. But he didn’t move, and you needed to rectify that.
“You’re infuriating,” you began. Bucky cringed, but you needed to explain as he had. “You’re like the antithesis of everything I want out of college. You don’t care about classes. You’re always late. You talk too loud in the library.”
You took a deep breath, fiddling with the loose thread of your pants. You couldn’t make eye contact with anything but the ground.
“But then you know my coffee order when I’ve never told it to you. You save me from losers in parking lots and make sure I’m not drunk out of my mind at your obscene party. You make me feel… you make me feel stupid sometimes. And I thought it was because you’re everything I’m not, but I really think it’s because you’re everything I told myself I should stay away from. But I don’t want to.
“I wanted you to kiss me at that party and I want you to kiss me now.”
“Then get over here. I’m not kissing you over some bullshit center console.”
You twisted to follow his directions, gasping as his hands clasped around your waist to tug you into his lap. It wasn’t seamless—there was laughing and your head briefly connected with the roof of the car—but Bucky’s touch was everywhere, soothing the uncertainty and fear and slight headache.
His forehead connected with yours when you felt secure in his arms. His fingers slid down from your waist over the material of your sweatpants and when he spoke next you felt the words on your own lips.
“You’re wearing sweatpants. You get so mad when I wear sweatpants.”
You laughed. “I get mad because it usually means you just rolled out of bed, and you’re usually. late.”
“I got a secret,” he whispered, nudging his nose against yours. “I’m never late. And I only wear those sweatpants around you. You get cute when you’re pissed at me.”
“Well, I’m about to be really cute—”
He kissed you. You’d have plenty of time to argue later.
#bucky barnes x reader#bucky x reader#bucky barnes x female reader#bucky barnes x you#bucky barnes fanfiction#college!bucky#bucky barnes reader insert#bucky barnes#college AU#frat!bucky#marvel imagine
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Comfortable
Pairing: Bucky X Reader
Summary: Bucky finds out that you’ve never climaxed during intimacy and he’s not happy about that.
Warnings: Smut, Crying during sex, Overstimulation (mental and physical), Language, Fluff, Minor Angst but not really
Word Count: 2.8K
A/n: Kinda based on life but without bucky coming in and setting things straight lol. I’ve also got the first like 5 parts of a new series written, so that’ll be coming soon hehe. anyway, I hope you guys enjoy, and I love you all very much!
~*~
“I don’t know, Nat, I just... I guess I’m just never... I don’t know. I’m in my head a lot, I guess.”
The redhead snickers, elbowing her sister and sharing a look with her before both of their gazes return to yours.
“Barnes lacking?”
You shake your head quickly, trying to clear his name.
“No! No, God no! He just... it’s not him, it’s me. I think too much, I’m focused on making sure it’s good for him, making sure he finishes that I... I don’t know.”
Yelena purses her lips, “does he know he hasn’t made you cum yet?”
You swallow hard and shake your head, dropping your gaze to your lap.
“I... I fake it.”
The assassins exchange glances again and you huff a sigh.
“He’s good, he’s really good and he makes me feel good and I get close but... I just can’t... I can’t cum. And it’s not like it’s just him, I’ve never cum with anybody I’ve been with. I just... can’t do it. Maybe I’m broken,” you whisper that last part mostly to yourself, but both women jump in and shake their heads.
“It’s an intimate thing. You probably just want to feel one hundred percent comfortable with the person before giving that last bit of yourself to them. Orgasming with a partner for the first time is... intense. You should talk to him about it, tell him the truth and explain it. Maybe you guys need more foreplay, maybe you need to be in control more, but you’ll only figure it out by talking to him about it.”
You bite your bottom lip and shake your head at Natasha, “I don’t wanna hurt his feelings though, Nat. I just... how the hell do I gently tell him that he hasn’t made me cum and I've been faking it the whole time?”
Two sets of trained eyes dart over your shoulder just as you hear the door to your apartment shut.
Tension pulls your shoulders up and you squeeze your eyes shut, praying that he didn’t hear you.
The way the two Russians in front of you press their lips into thin lines gives you your answer, and you drop your head forward, hating the fact that this is now a conversation you need to have with your boyfriend.
“Well uh, I think we should take that as our cue to leave,” Yelena says awkwardly, pressing on a smile and offering Bucky a small wave as she rises to her feet, Natasha following after.
You stay rooted in place on the couch, refusing to even acknowledge his presence as he putters about in the kitchen, waiting until your friends leave before finally making his way into the living room.
Your eyes don’t leave your hands as he takes a seat on the floor in front of you, his hands, one cold and one warm, finding yours and squeezing gently.
“I’m sorry,” you whisper, squeezing your eyes shut and trying to take deep breaths.
If you were to look at him, you’d see that his face is confused, not angry. Not a hint of anger could be found within him. If anything, he’s upset that you hadn’t told him before. That you didn’t feel comfortable confiding in him and telling him the truth.
The entire time he was under the impression that you were enjoying the sex and getting just as much out of it as he was.
“Why are you apologizing, sweet girl?”
You sniffle and shake your head, fear icing your veins.
You don’t want him to be mad at you and you don’t want him to feel offended.
“I just... I’m sorry.”
He shakes his head and reaches one hand up to cup your jaw, raising your head enough so that you finally, finally look into his eyes.
Your beautiful eyes are filled with tears and it makes his heart ache in his chest.
“Why the tears, honey, what’s wrong?”
You shake your head and sniffle, dropping your gaze only to raise it when he squeezes your chin.
“C’mon, sweet girl, you can talk to me. I... I don’t want you to ever be afraid to talk to me, okay? What’s got you so upset?”
You take a deep breath and squeeze his hand, trying to muster up your courage.
“I just... I don’t want to make you mad.”
He furrows his brows and shakes his head, absolutely flabbergasted at the fact that you think he’d be mad at you for being honest.
“Why would I ever be mad, baby? If you’re upset, I wanna know what I can do to make you feel better.”
You take another deep breath then slowly nod.
“I just... I know that sex is a sensitive topic for a lot of guys. Especially... their performance. And yours is great! The sex is great and I love it and you’re amazing! I just... I haven’t... ya’know. I never have with anyone else either. I’m starting to think that I can only do it by myself,” you whisper glumly, your shoulders sinking in.
Bucky is quiet for a moment. He’d already heard every word you’d spoken to Natasha and Yelena, and, he’s not gonna lie, it punches at his pride to know that his girl isn't enjoying it as much as he is. All he wants is for you to feel your best in every aspect of life.
“Well, why don’t we talk about this a bit more, huh? You said that it’s not just me, but everyone you’ve been with?”
He knows this isn’t about him, it’s about you, but he really hopes that you’re not trying to soften the blow. If other people have made you cum, he wants to know how and when and then he wants to cut their fingers off for ever touching you.
You nod, sniffling. “Yeah, I just... I don’t know if I get in my head too much or if I’m... not comfortable enough, but I just... I can’t.”
He nods slowly, trying to gather his thoughts and figure out a solution.
“What can I do to make you more comfortable, honey?”
You shake your head and push to your feet, hating every word of this conversation.
“I am comfortable with you, Buck. I just... forget I said anything, it doesn’t matter anyway.”
His long fingers wind around your wrist, stopping you from fleeing like you so desperately want to.
“It does matter, honey. It matters a lot, actually. I’m not mad and I’m not offended. I just... I want you to feel the same intimacy that I feel when we have sex. It’s... amazing. And I want you to experience it. So tell me how I can make you feel better.”
Your glossy eyes raise to his and, when you see nothing but honesty and love, you nod slowly.
“I don’t know what’s missing or what needs to happen. You’ve got me really close, but I just.. maybe I think about it too much? I don’t know.”
He cups your cheeks and presses the softest kiss to your forehead.
“You’re gonna need to direct me, baby. Next time, you’re gonna need to tell me what you like, what feels good, okay? And when you get close, you tell me and I’m gonna keep going until you actually cum, is that all right?”
You nod again.
“Okay.”
He kisses your lips gently then pulls you into a tight embrace.
“Okay.”
~*~
The next time the opportunity to be intimate arises, it’s after a small get-together at Yelena’s place.
You’ve already had a sizeable glass of wine, and now all you want is your boyfriend’s hands on your body.
He pushes open the door to your shared apartment, a grin on his lips as you pepper kisses along his jawline.
“Hey, sweetheart. You want something? Hmm?”
You nod, lips not leaving his skin as you push his jacket off of his shoulders.
“C’mere.” His metal arm dips beneath your thighs, hoisting you up, while his flesh arm wraps around your waist, keeping you held tightly against his chest as you wrap your legs around him.
He leads the two of you through the apartment and into the bedroom, laying you down gently on the bed and pulling away to pull his shirt off.
You shimmy out of your dress and toss it to the ground, leaving you only in your matching black lace set.
Bucky’s eyes devour your figure and he’s quick to shed his pants and join you on the bed, crawling between your legs and smoothing his hands over your thighs.
“How you feelin’, pretty girl? You okay?”
You nod, bottom lip tucked between your teeth as he looks at you like you’re the only woman on the planet.
And to him, you might as well be.
“You gonna let me eat you out, baby? Please?”
How could you possibly say no to that?
When you nod at him, he grins, beyond pleased, and slides his fingers beneath the fabric on your hips.
He pulls your panties down your legs and brings them up to his face, holding your gaze while taking a deep breath through his nose.
“Fuck, you smell good. Taste even better, though.” And with that, he situates himself between your thighs and flattens his tongue against you, licking you from your dripping hole up to your throbbing clit.
You sigh happily, fingers tangling through his hair as he works his tongue over your clit and dips two fingers into your heat.
“Just like that...” you whisper, your head digging into the pillows as he plays you like a fiddle.
He continues fucking his fingers into you, pausing when you give a particularly hard tug on his hair then repeating exactly what made you do that.
You can feel it slowly building, each pass of his tongue and thrust of his fingers brings you slightly closer, and you can’t help but feel your heart begin to race.
“Fuck... just like that, Bucky...”
He follows your instructions perfectly, doing exactly what makes you feel good.
He watches your face scrunch, feels your heels dig into his back and your nails scratch at his scalp and - Goddamn is this what he was missing out on? This is what you look like when you’re really about to cum?
It takes all of his self-control to not grab his phone and take a picture of you.
Your chest rises and falls more rapidly and your eyes are squeezed shut as your walls start fluttering around his fingers.
Fuck, you look gorgeous.
It’s such a strange feeling, having him bring you closer and closer to the edge. It’s so foreign yet so right and you tug at his hair and roll your hips up to his face.
“Bucky, I... I’m gonna.... oh fuck, please... I’m gonna cum, please!”
God, hearing that is like music to his ears.
He continues, bringing his free hand up to yours when you reach for it.
You interlock your fingers and grind your teeth together as your release washes over you, far more intense than anything you’ve ever been able to bring yourself.
A sound that’s half-moan half-gasp falls from your lips and you squeeze his hand harder while your walls clamp down around his fingers.
Bliss fills you, sparks flying from every nerve in your body, head to toe, and Bucky watches in awe.
He’s not sure how he believed you before when you were faking. The way you look when you cum is something he’s never going to be able to forget now.
Your body is wound so tight, your thighs clenched around his head and your nails digging into his scalp. Your walls are pulsing and clenching and, fuck, it feels incredible. He can’t wait to feel it around his cock.
He continues slowly fucking his fingers in and out of you while working his tongue over your clit, only pulling away when you tug your hips back.
He smacks his lips together and pulls away, his eyes connecting with yours.
Your chest heaves and your forehead has a light sheen of sweat on it, and you look like the Goddess you are.
“How you feel, baby?” He asks gently, smoothing his hands up your sides and rubbing his thumbs over the soft skin of your stomach.
You only nod at him, your hands coming to rest on his wrists.
“Words, baby. I need words.”
You lick your lips and take a deep breath before speaking.
“I feel good, Buck. I-I feel really good,” you whisper, eyes prickling with tears at the intensity of the moment.
He smiles lovingly down at you and leans in for a gentle kiss.
You taste yourself on his tongue and it makes the moment even more erotic.
“Gonna let me fuck you, baby?” He asks against your mouth, trailing his lips down your neck and kissing your skin gently.
You nod, sighing softly as tears trail back into your hairline.
He pulls back for a moment, just long enough to situate himself comfortably between your thighs and align himself with your entrance.
And then he’s pushing into you slowly, making you feel every single inch of it.
Your mouth drops open and your legs wind around his hips, pulling him even deeper than before. He’s pressing against every sensitive spot inside you and it feels heavenly.
“Fuck, you feel good, baby. Feel so good... God... nice n’ tight... wet... shit you’re like heaven.” He rasps the words against your throat, lips trailing up over your skin to rest on yours for a quick moment before he pulls back to gaze into your eyes.
“I love you, pretty girl. I really do.”
Your heart swells and you lean up to kiss him, gasping against his lips when he pulls his hips back and slams them forward.
He starts a steady pace, smoothing one of his hands over yours and interlocking your fingers.
“I wanna feel you cum for me again. Wanna feel it on my cock, baby. God, you look so pretty when you cum. Wanna take a picture of it and frame it, I swear.”
You squeeze your eyes shut and whine softly, arching your back and groaning when he hits deeper inside of you at the new angle.
“Right there... oh fuck, please...”
He buries his head in your neck, peppering the skin there with kisses while his free hand travels between your bodies to find your clit.
He circles the bundle of nerves with expert precision, lifting his lips to yours to swallow your moans.
You’re barely kissing. No, it’s more of just breathing each other’s breaths and moaning in each other’s mouths, but the intimacy is unmatched and the passion is flaming through your soul.
You wind your free arm around his shoulders, pulling him down to press more of his weight against you, and you can’t help but feel more secure and more comfortable.
“I... Bucky... I’m gonna... oh fuck.”
He nods, showering your face in kisses.
“Cum for me, honey. C’mon, please. I wanna feel you cum on my cock.”
You can’t very well deny him when he’s asking you so nicely.
His fingers move against your clit faster and faster while his hips continue grinding into yours firmly, making your toes curl and your back arch further.
Your chest presses against his and you rake your nails against his back so hard you're sure you’re drawing blood, but you can’t find it in yourself to care.
Not when you’re falling headfirst into the most intense and powerful climax of your life.
Your vision goes white and your ears start to ring, and all you can do is squeeze around him.
Your legs tighten around his waist, your nails dig into his flesh, and your walls clamp down around his cock as fireworks erupt in your belly.
Bucky fucks you through it, keeping his pace steady as you tremble and convulse beneath him, your mouth open as soft whines fall from it.
God, the feeling of you, all hot and tight and wet around him... he’s ready to die happily now that he’s gotten to truly experience the glory that is having you cum around him.
His pride swells and he can't help the way his ego inflates when he pulls his head back to look at your pretty face.
He did that.
He made you feel that good.
He’s the only man, no, the only person in the world besides yourself that’s ever made you cum. And he’s going to be the only one.
And now that he knows how to do it, now that he's gotten you there with his mouth and his cock, he’s never going to get enough of it. He’s gotta make up for lost time, doesn't he?
#bucky x reader#bucky barnes#Bucky Barnes x reader#bucky x reader smut#bucky/reader smut#bucky x you#bucky x reader lemon#bucky x you smut#Bucky Barnes smut#marvel smut#Steve rogers#yelena belova#Natasha romanoff#bucky x f!reader#bucky x female!reader#Bucky Barnes fanfic#reader insert
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Let Me Help You
Pairing: Grumpy!Bucky Barnes x Sunshine!Reader
Bucky Barnes Masterlist | Grumpy Sunshine Series
You knew something was off with Bucky the moment he came home. He kept rubbing his left shoulder, a deep grimace on his face.
You asked him what was wrong and he brushed it off saying it was just a tough mission. You didn't want to push him, so you let it go. You curled into his side on the couch, reading a book as he played with your hair.
And then he winced. Once. Twice. You've just about had it when he winces again. For the third time.
You snap your book shut. "Alright, that's it!"
"What?"
"Take off your shirt," you order.
Bucky quirks an eyebrow, a smirk slightly tugging at the corner of his mouth, "Really?"
"What? No!" You playfully swat his chest. "You're obviously in pain!"
“Aw…” Bucky dismissively waves his hand at you. "It's not that bad."
"It's been bugging you since you got back."
"I just overdid it a little. I'm fine." Even as the words leave his mouth, you can tell he's fighting back another wince.
"It's hard to see you like this."
"It's fine."
"It's not fine!" you insist. "I know you don't like other people seeing your arm, and I know you've said no to trying physical therapy, so if you're not going to go ask for help then just let me try to help you. Please?"
He deeply sighs, but considering that even the small rise and fall of his shoulders is sending pain radiating all through his shoulder, he's pretty sure he does need your help. "Fine..."
Your fingers trail over the metal plate holding his arm in place. As you flip the release trigger, he grits his teeth, a huff of relief leaving his lips as the vibranium arm detaches from the joint.
"Baby..." Your voice wavers slightly. It makes you want to cry for him. "It's really swollen. This had to have been bothering you."
"I'm used to it," he grumbles.
Your heart clenches for him. That was the problem. He was used to it. Far too used to pain. Far too used to dealing with it on his own. "I'm gonna go grab you some ice."
You return with an ice pack in hand moments later. He hisses as the coolness presses against his scarred flesh.
"You okay?"
"Yeah," he nods. "Thank you."
"All I did was grab an ice pack."
He grabs your unoccupied hand, kissing your palm, "No, thank you for caring. Sometimes, I forget that I'm not alone anymore."
"You'll never be alone. Not as long as I'm here." You press a gentle, feather light kiss to his shoulder, "From now on, promise you'll tell me when your arm's bothering you?"
He hums as your hand gently kneads his shoulder blade, soothing away the radiating ache and pain, "I promise."
AnonymityIsFun Masterlist
Grumpy Sunshine Series
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#anonymityisfunwriter#anonymityisfun#grumpy x sunshine#grumpy sunshine trope#bucky barnes x you#bucky x female reader#bucky barnes#reader insert#bucky fic#x reader#bucky barnes x reader#bucky x reader#bucky barnes x y/n#james bucky barnes#bucky angst#james buchanan barnes#bucky barnes fanfiction#bucky barnes fluff#bucky barnes angst#marvel fanfiction#bucky fluff#bucky fanfic#bucky barnes x female reader#bucky barnes au#bucky x you#bucky barnes one shot#bucky barnes imagine#bucky barnes x fem!reader#bucky barnes x f!reader#bucky barnes fic
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You’re Mine, Sunshine
♡ Pairing: Grumpy!Bodyguard!Bucky Barnes x Sunshine!Fem!Reader
♡ Summary: Bucky gets picked by a very rich and respected man to be his daughter’s personal bodyguard. The Father warns him that it won’t be an easy job, that she is a brat and difficult to deal with. But what happens when Bucky meets you and you’re the complete opposite?
♡ Warnings: mentions of amputation, light angst, hints to violence, mentions of death, bucky being a grumpy man
Part 2
Trope ⇢ Grumpy x Sunshine | Mob!AU Bodyguard!AU
“Mr. Barnes, your résumé so far is quite impressive.” Pierce acknowledged with a slow nod.
Bucky of course had a trained eye, but the glares that were not so subtly sent his way by the big boss— were intimidating. He wasn’t scared, no. He simply respected this man’s power. Bucky knew better than to get on the bad side of someone like Pierce.
“Says here you’re an amputee?” Pierce asked so bluntly, and he noticed Bucky’s eyes squint slightly. “Sorry, if I’m overstepping but nothing will be overlooked.”
“It’s not a problem, sir.” Bucky assured him. “Yes, I lost my left arm during a mission way back.”
Pierce furrowed his brows.
“Mission? I take it you used to be an agent of some sort.” He assumed.
Bucky nodded.
“Hm, very good. Continue.” He waved him on.
“I had some surgical procedures— and now I have a prosthetic.”
Bucky lifted his left arm, rolling his sleeve slightly up to expose the metal to the boss. Pierce hummed impressively, taking in the intricate designs on the metal.
“I can assure you that me having a prosthetic will not be an issue— my arm is made out of only the strongest metal. Bullet proof, in fact.” He added, hoping it would further impress the boss, proving just how perfect for the job he was.
It wasn’t his dream to be a bodyguard, actually it was quite a low in his career— if you asked him. He had fallen out of his previous steady job, due to some complications. He had the experience of being a bodyguard— just not for only one person. It would be a weird change for him, but he was willing to take on the challenge. Also, the pay was nice.
Pierce hummed again, the information that his prosthetic arm was bullet proof— only satisfying him more.
“Like I said, impressive Mr. Barnes. But this is an extremely important task. My only daughter, who must be protected at all costs.” Pierce trailed off, expression growing serious. “It’s been a hard adjustment since the passing of my wife, my daughter is all I have left.”
Bucky nodded in understanding, knowing what it was like to lose loved ones. In fact, that wound was still fresh on him.
“If I allow you to take on this role, you are to swear to yourself that you will do whatever it takes to keep her alive— no matter what.” Pierce spoke loudly, his voice orotund.
Bucky in the back of his mind thought about his choice of words. ‘If I allow you.’ Bucky respected this man, but he had to hold back the scoff that threatened to escape his lips at his statement.
“Do you think you’re ready for that?” Pierce challenged, and suddenly it wasn’t about his daughter at all. It was a man challenging another man, a task that he deemed impossible.
His metal hand behind his back whirred in annoyance. After all that fluffing his head up, complimenting his training. It was clear Pierce thought so little of him, and at that— it made Bucky wanna take the job even more. Just to prove him wrong.
“Yes sir.” Bucky promised, shaking Pierces hand in a firm— slightly aggressive shake.
Pierce smiled, dropping Bucky’s résumé on his desk. Getting himself comfortable, he sat on the edge of the front of the desk, crossing his arms.
“Now, let’s go through what is to be expected.” He started, Bucky nodded for him to continue. “You are to be with her at all times, except for when you sleep. You do sleep right?”
Bucky let the scoff escape this time, but it wasn’t as aggressive as he wanted it to be.
“I’ve got a metal arm, but I’m still human sir.”
Pierce chuckled to himself, and Bucky wanted to roll his eyes. This man thinks he’s so funny.
“Right. You must never let her leave your sight, if she wants to see her friends— you’ll be seeing them with her. Not that it’s going to be an issue, I don’t think she has many friends… or any.” The boss shrugged, seemingly unconcerned about his daughter.
Bucky nodded, taking everything in.
“You are going to be staying with her in the safe house… well— she thinks it’s just a house but the area is guarded with my men.” He shrugged again. “I’m a successful man and with that comes enemies, people who look for my weaknesses. You know that.”
Bucky gave a tight lipped smile, Pierce so far sounding like a father of the year.
“Now, about my daughter. Her name is (Y/n) (Y/L/n), and she is a handful.” Pierce stated frustratedly. “She’s rude, ungrateful, nasty— and just overall extremely difficult.”
Bucky furrowed his brows, rethinking his decision to be a bodyguard for this girl. Fucking lovely.
“You can now understand why I’m paying you the offered amount. It’s only fair to you, Mr. Barnes. Truthfully, I can’t deal with her anymore. I love her, and she’s my daughter but… It just doesn’t work out with me. I’m a busy man— I don’t have time for brats.” Pierce spat, straightening up and heading back around his desk.
Bucky had already been creating this mental image of you, so far you sounded like a witch. He was not at all ready to be dealing with you 24/7.
“Doesn’t sound like a problem boss, I’m happy to be protecting your daughter. Nobody will lay a hair on her head, I swear on my life.” Bucky promised again, bowing his head slightly.
“Oh I know. If anything happens to her and I find out you were slacking even by an inch… well you’re a smart man, I’m sure you can figure it out.” Pierce warned, and Bucky swallowed at the mere intimidation that laced his voice.
But he would not back down to this challenge, which is how he saw this— not a job.
“That will be all Mr. Barnes, (Y/n) is around here somewhere. Find her and take her home.” He told Bucky, putting on his glasses— focusing on his paperwork.
“Yes sir.”
Bucky nodded and turned to exit the room. He was so confused with the interaction. You’d think someone who hires a bodyguard for their daughter would know where their daughter is. The way he spoke about you was off putting. Bucky didn’t even know you, but it felt wrong to hear someone talk so little about you. What did he know anyway— apparently you were a monster.
He made his way through the building with a swift walk, needing to fulfill his duties and find you quickly. He was on the third floor, about to hit the button to the elevator when he saw a young lady. Despite him wanting to find you all on his own, he got her attention.
“Excuse me,” He waved to her with a fake smile, “Do you know where I can find (Y/n) (Y/L/n)?”
The lady smiled and took Bucky by surprise by laughing. His fake smile vanished immediately, his eyes squinting in a annoyed expression.
“That would be me!” You exclaimed with a warm smile.
Bucky’s eyes widened and he thought for a second he was being fucked with, but after you stayed smiling at him, being as patient as ever— he knew you weren’t joking.
“Uh right… Your dad is Pierce?” He asked hesitantly, keeping his guard up. Still thinking someone was messing with him— testing him.
You nodded slowly, giving him a curious expression. Your smile never wavering.
“Yes, and you are?” You asked so politely.
Bucky shouldn’t of been as shocked as he was but truthfully, he was expecting a demon spawn of a person. Red eyes, withered flowers left in your path, a literal storm cloud floating over you— but you looked so normal. So sweet and pretty. Your hair smelled so strongly of strawberry shampoo, he could catch the scent from his spot. Your voice was like honey, the sound soothing.
He was confused as to why your father thought so wrongly of you. He had too many questions.
He cleared his throat, straightening himself now that he believed you were who he was looking for.
“(Y/n), my name is Mr. Barnes— I’ve been hired as your personal bodyguard.” He informed you, watching the corners of your mouth falter slightly.
“Oh, did my Father hire you?” You asked politely.
“Yes ma’am.”
You nodded your head, attempting to keep a smile on your face. But you couldn’t help the distaste for being given a bodyguard. You knew it was only for the sole purpose, that your Father didn’t want to care for you anymore. He wanted nothing to do with you. That fact was enough to make your nose start to burn, but you held yourself together— not wanting to break down in front of this new guy.
Bucky watched you take in the information, the way you took a deep breath, almost controlling yourself before you spoke again.
“Nice to meet you Mr. Barnes. I’m sure we’re going to be great friends.” You told him.
Bucky shook his head, an annoyed expression etching his face.
“Ma’am, I think we should keep things professional. I have been hired as your bodyguard. Let me do my job, and you can continue with your day as usual. You won’t even know I’m here half the time.” He explained rather harshly.
You seemed taken aback, his words hurting you more than they should’ve. You were lonely, and you thought you’d be able to get a friend out of this situation. Even if he was being hired to hang around you. Luck didn’t seem to be on your side as he told you off. The burning felt stronger in your nose, and you took another deep breath.
Bucky only felt bad for a second, but he was quickly snapping back to reality. It was his life on the line to protect you, and if Bucky was anything— it was that he was good at doing his job. This was business, not playtime.
“I’m here to take you home. Are you ready?” He asked you.
You relaxed your quick beating heart, not even having time to speak with your Father. Not that he’d want to anyway. So much had changed since your Mother passed, you had yet to heal those wounds.
You nodded with a weaker smile, one that didn’t quite reach your eyes. If Bucky had noticed your sudden mood change, he didn’t mention it— instead guiding you outside.
He opened the door to the car that was waiting outside for you, climbing in himself after you were settled.
He started driving to your place, with the help of the car telling him directions.
Meanwhile you gazed out the window, watching the buildings pass by. You forced yourself to keep a small smile on your face, hoping you’d convince yourself that the gesture was genuine if you did it long enough.
Bucky glanced back at you through the rear view mirror from time to time, watching you look out the window. He was still trying to come to terms with how polite you were, how completely opposite you were to your Fathers description.
On one hand it was a relief that he didn’t have to deal with the devil. On the other hand… he was anxious to see where this job would lead him.
A/N: I don’t know what is wrong with me, but suddenly I had this urge to write a bodyguard!bucky fic. let’s be honest, we are all slut’s for bodyguard!bucky 😭 I’m also a whore for the trope grumpy x sunshine 🥰🥴 let me know what you think— this is all word vomit.
#bucky barnes#the winter soldier#marvel cinematic universe#reader insert#sebastian stan#buckybarnes#fluff#marvel imagines#light angst#oneshot#bodyguard bucky barnes#bodyguard au#mob au#grumpy x sunshine#james buchanan barnes#bucky barnes x you#beefy bucky barnes#bucky barnes x y/n#mini series
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Big, Hormonal Heart | Bucky Barnes
》 PAIRING: bucky barnes x pregnant!female!reader
》 TROPE/GENRE: established relationship (marriage), fluff fluff fluff
》 SUMMARY: It'd probably take more than one lifetime for Bucky to list reasons why he was so lucky to call you his wife. He was certain your big heart was one of them. One that grew even more with pregnancy hormones. It was sweet, how you to got so upset when they got his order wrong. Your meal was perfectly fine. But when his wasn't? Oh it was a crime.
》 WARNINGS: pregnancy, a dog named Snow and Alpine the cat, pet names (doll, baby, my love, sweetheart), emotional!r (she cries. like, most of the fic), husband!bucky being the sweetest, domesticity and just overall fluff (pretty tame fic ngl)
》 WORD COUNT: 2.5k+
A/N: this idea was super random. i saw an insta reel of a pregnant woman having mood swings over some food and then everyone was sharing their experiences in the comments and i got inspired so here ya go alksalkss. DISCLAIMER! I'm not pregnant nor have i ever been lol. I did as much research as i could but still, don't count on me to be 100% accurate.
++ ALSO this was written in just a few hours. this isn't my best work. just something i wanted to write as an exercise since i haven't written anything in months. anyways, i hope you enjoy!
📍 BLOG NAVIGATION
✩ B. BARNES MASTERLIST ✩ MAIN MASTERLIST ✩
⊱ ─────.⋅♚ *｡･ﾟ.★. *｡･ﾟ✫*.
Bucky Barnes was one lucky man.
If someone had told him years ago that he was going to live in a quaint home in the suburbs, a lovely backyard space for a dog and a cat to enjoy, and that he'd be married to the absolute love of life, an angel on earth who was now carrying his first child—
He honestly would've stared at them dead in the eye, wondering how someone could make such a cruel joke.
Yet here he was, actually living it, a life that seemed so much like a dream.
Though he was quickly reminded of how real this was as he stood in the nursery, glaring at the manual that came with the crib you two had bought from the furniture store.
It looked simple enough at first—putting together ready-made pieces should be easy, right?
Wrong.
Not when you have countless amounts of screws that more or less looked the same but were actually not because each served a different purpose.
He was in the middle of figuring out how to install the legs to the main base when you walked into the room with your two bodyguards—Alpine the Cat and Snow the five-year-old Samoyed—in tow.
"How's it going, handsome?" you hummed as you reached his side, arms wrapping around his waist, your warmth immediately easing the frustration he had about this goddamn crib.
"It's…" he sighed, gesturing at the wooden pieces scattered around the floor. "Going."
You laughed at that, kissing his clothed shoulder before standing in front of him.
Bucky held your waist then, pulling you as close as he could given that your baby bump was in the middle of you both.
He honestly couldn't begin to express how much comfort and warmth covered his whole being every time he was met with the absolute love in your eyes.
And Bucky was sure his gaze shined the same.
So many people have pointed it out on numerous occasions, the twinkle in his eyes every time they land on you—his beautiful wife.
"I was thinking," you murmured, resting your hands on his chest, moving up his shoulder and down again in a sweet caress. "How about a quick break while we order some food?"
It was only about an hour after lunch, so Bucky wasn't particularly keen on filling his stomach some more.
But you, on the other hand, were nearing the end of your second trimester. It wasn't out of the norm for you to be hungry at this time, given you were eating for two. Plus, there was an added layer that your little peanut probably had some super soldier serum in their DNA—the baby's appetite could be enhanced for all he knew.
Other than that, the last thing Bucky wanted was an angry and hungry pregnant wife. So it wasn't really a hard decision to make.
"Okay, let's get you something to eat," he said.
Ever the observant person that you were, you quickly noticed his choice of words.
"For me?" you asked, brows furrowed. "You're not hungry?"
Bucky shook his head. "Not really."
Your bottom lip went.
He instantly knew he said the wrong thing.
"But I'm hungry," you murmured, eyes starting to glisten.
He could never explain it even if he tried, but whenever you got upset, your bodyguards always seemed to notice it. The two have always been protective of you and that only grew tenfold when you got pregnant.
Today wasn't an exception.
Snow barked at him, whining his complaints as he put his fifty-pound body between your legs, slightly pushing Bucky back. The furball was well trained though, so his protectiveness never went too far beyond being vocal about it. Alpine, on the other hand, was sitting a foot away, glaring at Bucky—quite the traitor given that she was supposed to be his cat, but he couldn't blame her for loving you, either—as if she knew it was his fault you were upset.
But still, Bucky wasn't quite sure what he'd done wrong.
"I know, sweetheart," he said slowly, a little confused, trying to navigate around Snow who was pawing at his leg as if trying to push him further away. "I'll order some food for you."
"But you're not hungry," you repeated, body slumping with sadness.
"I'm not," he agreed, quickly cupping your face when a tear slipped from your eyes. "But hey, hey, that doesn't mean we can't still order food for you, doll."
"No, I know," you sniffled.
"So, what's making you upset, hmm?"
You buried your face in his chest with a shaky breath as you said,
"I don't want to eat alone."
Bucky paused, pressing his lips and swallowing down a laugh because he couldn't have you thinking he was making fun of you. He wasn't. But you were so adorable it made his chest ache.
"Okay, okay," he hummed, kissing the side of your head as he rubbed your back in comfort. "I'll order something for me, too."
•••
A few minutes later, your little family migrated to the living room. You both were sitting on the couch together, the two furballs sprawled at your feet as a random show played on TV. Various take-out bags covered the coffee table, way too many for two people but hey, that's what fridges and microwaves are for.
Fondness filled Bucky's bones as he watched you settle your food on your lap, doing what he called your Cravings Satisfied Wiggle.
He couldn't contain his chuckle.
You looked at him with furrowed brows, words a little muffled with your mouth full. "What?"
"Happy?" he asked, reaching over to wipe the sauce on the corner of your mouth.
"Very much," you giggled, eyes wrinkling at the corners.
Even after all these years, the sight of your pure joy still made his heart stutter, chest growing warmer when you leaned closer with a pout.
Bucky met you halfway for a short yet sweet kiss.
"Thank you," you hummed, even though there was no need for you to thank him for ordering you food.
"You're welcome, sweetheart."
Reaching over the table, he took the one and only paper bag that was for him, because again, he wasn't that hungry.
"Oh."
"What's wrong?" You turned to him in concern.
"It's not a big deal," he reassured with a smile, shrugging because it really wasn't. "They got mine wrong."
You frowned. "You didn't get the nuggets?"
"No, they give me the burger meal," he said. "They must've misheard me.
Bucky immediately perked up when your lips started to tremble.
"Hey, hey, what's wrong?" he asked worriedly, cupping your face to wipe away your tears.
"You—" you sniffled. "You didn't get your nuggets."
Bucky pressed his lips to stop a smile.
God you were so fucking cute.
"It's okay, baby," he soothed. "I'm fine with a burger, too."
You cried even harder.
Snow and Alpine quickly stood, all alert and concerned as they nudged your leg.
"You wanted the nuggets, Bucky," you insisted, choking back a sob. "But you didn't get it."
He carefully pulled you closer, rubbing your back in comfort as you laid your head on his shoulder. "I know, but it's okay—"
"No, it's not!" you protested, all teary and frustrated, pulling away to glare at him. "You deserve to get what you want. Y-You deserve all the good things after e-everything."
Bucky might honestly start crying too with how sweet you were being.
"Oh doll, come here," he placated, pulling you in for a hug while trying to navigate the food on your lap.
He could take it away for safety, but he'd already learned his lesson the hard way. Taking food away from a pregnant woman was a death sentence.
"I want you to be happy," you sniffled, burying your face against his neck. "You wanted the nuggets and they disrespected that."
It took so much for him not to let out a chuckle. Because as much as Bucky hated to see you crying and upset, he couldn't deny how adorably funny this whole conversation was.
But you'd always had the biggest heart. Whether that was crying over those rescue animal videos, emotional scenes in movies, to feeling upset over something he was experiencing—your empathy was always high.
What more with the pregnancy hormones in the mix?
"How about I ask them to change it?"
Again, wrong thing to say.
He needed to get better at this.
"But they're probably so stressed and overworked already," you sobbed. "A-And it's about to rain. I don't want the delivery guy to get wet in the rain. T-They already don't get paid enough."
"Hey, hey, it's okay," he hummed, rubbing your back. "Will you look at me, my love?"
You lifted your head then, Bucky's heart aching at the absolute distress on your features—pout in full play, eyes a little bloodshot with tear stains on your skin.
He cupped your cheeks with a soft smile, placing gentle kisses all over your face, unrelenting until you let out a whine of protest. He stopped then, thankful to see that you'd calmed down now.
"I promise you, the burger meal is perfectly fine with me. I'm not mad or upset about it. I don't mind it at all," he said.
You took a calming deep breath and nodded. It only took a second for you to look at him sheepishly.
"Sorry I overreacted," you whispered, embarrassed.
"Hey, none of that," he lightly scolded. "All the emotions you're feeling will always be valid."
You smiled, small yet sweet, leaning in and kissing him with as much gratitude as you could muster.
"Besides, it makes me feel so honored to know that you're willing to fight for my chicken nugget rights."
"Shut up, Barnes."
•••
You and Bucky always had a nightly routine and it usually consisted of the two of you getting ready for bed in your own different ways. They were intertwined, but not exactly the same. Like you'd be doing some skin care in the bathroom while he would be brushing his teeth.
But ever since you got pregnant, your routine became more in sync.
It usually started with a bath that he'd run for you. Most of the time he'd end up joining you, the length of said bath varying since that usually depended on what mood you were in. Bucky was always at the service of meeting his wife's needs, after all.
Recently, now that your bump wasn't particularly easy to navigate, he'd helped you get ready for bed. From getting dressed to your skin care, including rubbing some moisturizer on your stomach. That part was one of his favorite things to do.
Then it was the typical things, getting dressed, brushing your teeth—this one you stopped him from doing it for you even though he was more than willing—and overall just getting ready for bed.
Once you’d settled on the pregnancy pillow that Bucky fluffed up for you, he'd sit near the foot of the bed to give your sore feet a massage while you read a book.
Tonight, right when he was in the middle of doing that, he heard you sniffle.
Bucky looked up in concern, catching you already staring at him with tears already in your eyes.
"What's wrong?" he asked, looking you over. "Does something hurt?"
"No, I-I'm okay. I just—" You cut yourself off with a sob.
Bucky quickly moved beside you, pulling you onto his lap as he wrapped his arms around your form. You buried your face into the crook of his neck, body shaking as you cried.
"Hey, hey, talk to me," he murmured against your hair. "Tell me what's wrong."
"It's just—" You let out a shaky breath. "You're always taking care of me."
"Of course, sweetheart, you're my wife," he said. "And not only because it's my duty as your husband, but because I love you so much."
That made you cry even harder.
"I l-love you too, so much," you sobbed. "But I haven't been able to take care of you lately and that's not f-fair."
Bucky felt his heart grow as if it wasn't already bursting at the seams.
How could someone be so selfless and sweet?
"You're pregnant, my love," he stated the obvious reason as to why. "Besides, I'm capable of taking care of myself. It's alright."
"No, it's not," you argued, pulling away slightly to face him. "You deserve to be taken care of, too! You deserve to get pampered a-and a break but you're always fussing over me and taking care of me instead. I'm not helping with any of it. I'm just making it harder for you."
"No, absolutely not," he stated firmly, holding your face in his hands, wiping your tears away with his thumbs. "I love taking care of you. It honestly makes me feel so fulfilled and happy when I do."
"Really?" you sniffled.
"Yes. It's the least I could do with everything that you've been going through right now," he said truthfully, adding with a chuckle, "Hell, if I could carry our baby so you wouldn't have to go through all the pain I would."
That earned him a small laugh.
"But I want to take care of you, too," you admitted after a deep breath.
"You already are," he hummed, thumb stroking your cheek lovingly. "You're taking care of our baby and my heart, and those are very important to me."
You scrunched up your nose adorably.
"That was so cheesy."
"But it's true, though."
You smiled, cupping his face. Bucky turned his head to kiss your palm.
"Thank you," you sighed fondly. "For putting up with me and for everything."
"First off, I'm not putting up with anything," he reassured, kissing your other palm before adding, "Second, you never have to thank me for taking care of you. Never."
You nodded, leaning closer to press your lips against his, pouring all your love and gratitude into it. Bucky kissed you back with the same fervor, never needing words to express what you truly feel for each other.
He felt so content—feeling your lips, your fingers tangled in his hair, and your little peanut asking for attention too, kicking the second Bucky rested hand on your bump.
When you let out a soft, needy whine, he was ready to take the kiss even further.
That was until a wet tongue met his cheek.
Bucky groaned in annoyance, pulling away to see Snow giving you a kiss, too. He couldn't be angry at the dog for ruining the moment when your lovely laugh echoed in the air. Alpine jumped on the bed a second later, nudging her head against Bucky's chin before walking over to place a loving paw on your bump.
His smile was as bright as it could be as he watched the scene before him.
A wonderful home, a wholesome family that involved his beautiful, loving wife and two furballs, his family that was only getting bigger in a few months—
Yeah.
Bucky Barnes was one lucky man.
✫*ﾟ･ﾟ｡.★.*｡･ﾟ♛ *.
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#bhh#bucky barnes#bucky barnes x reader#bucky barnes fanfiction#bucky barnes one shot#bucky barnes fluff#bucky barnes angst#bucky barnes x female reader#bucky barnes oneshot#bucky barnes x you#bucky barnes reader insert#sebastian stan#my writing
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