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buckets-and-trees · 5 months

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Since it’s still Monday… Happy Horny Monday!🥵

Imagine Bucky telling you to get on your knees🥵

Oh… and when I tell you there are so. few. men. I have ever wanted to have in my mouth…

But he would be one.

Especially Devour Bucky…

And it’s not Monday anymore, but who can complain about a little smutty something on hump day Wednesday?

Fandom: MCU Collection: Devour Title: MINT Characters/Pairings: Mob Boss!Bucky x f!Chef!Reader Word Count: 1.5k

Content Warnings: explicit smut, oral: male receiving, vaginal penetration/fucking, sex in a semi-public space, mob boss Bucky

Logistical Notes: Takes place after Heat but before Yeast. Written on my phone while waiting for my departing flight…

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You had dated before the incident (and you’ll always call it that because it was the height of his audacious pursuit) but that was different to how things were with James now.

Now you were his, and he was so assuredly assertive about it. He touched you easily - a hand on your back, on your arm, reaching for your hand. When you weren’t next to each other, his eyes sought you out - not constantly, but frequently. It was devoted with a hint of possessive that was healthy, not insecure. It bespoke a confidence and contentment that you had never experienced in any previous relationship, situationship, or entanglement.

It felt good.

At tonight’s benefit for the museum his warm hand had found its way to affectionately rest on your thigh under the table, but it wasn’t long before his hand had shifted, sidled under the high slit of your long silk dress, and his fingers drifted over to the tender and traitorous skin of your inner thigh above your stockings, dangerously close to your core.

But no further.

Only the quirk of his mouth told you he knew how he was teasing you, but he was essentially well behaved the rest of the night.

Somewhat maddeningly so.

He continued to be physically affectionate, but only in the most appropriate way.

And his eyes danced with the mischief of it.

So you concentrated on the rest of the evening - the other VIPs you were grouped and mingling with, the performances by some of the city’s symphony and opera stars, and the culinary delights.

You had been nervous for your first public appearance like this with James Buchanan Barnes, but it had been surprisingly nice. One of Bucky’s associates and his fiancé were at your table, as were the governor’s nephew and niece and each of their plus ones, and one of the members of the museum’s board of directors and her partner. James had whispered in your ear that the charming elderly woman from the museum board terrified all the old men on the board because she was so charming they were constantly surprised by her devious control of the board without ever having been the chair.

After dinner, there was dancing, but your table was one of a handful of tables swept away first for private tours of the new collections.

That’s where he struck.

Holding your hand, fingers interlocked, James had been falling further and further back in the group, engrossed in many of the works.

And it might have been genuine, but when he pulled you into one of the enclosed galleries and you saw one of his security step in front of the entrance, you knew you were in for discreet but delicious ruin.

“James…” your voice drawled in a cautious question.

He mimicked your tone, murmuring your name right back.

“Won’t they be trying to secure a sizable donation from you tonight at the end of this tour?”

“I’m already a generous patron of the city arts council. If they leave us alone long enough, I’ll increase my patronage before we leave,” he said with a cocky smirk.

One you had come to love.

“Been wanting to have you all night,” he said, voice going lower, right to your core, and taking a step closer to you.

“Oh?” You pretended to be unaffected, the way he had pretended to be only innocently touching you at dinner.

“And I would bet you’re ready for me,” he spoke directly into your ear.

Your eyes fluttered closed, but you tried to keep the rest of your cool. “Maybe. Maybe not.”

He chuckled then pressed you flush against his front, and you felt his hard cock press into you. “I’m ready for you.”

And within half a second, he’d rucked up the long skirt of your dress, exposing your ass in your lacey underwear and large fishnet stockings. You gasped his name into his chest, but he only proceeded, cupping your mound, undeterred.

And you couldn’t hide the heat of your wetness or your soft whimper as his fingers worked over your already ruined panties.

“Get on your knees for me,” he said, gently pushing down on your shoulder, and a little dazed, you complied. He brushed his thumb over your bottom lip then cradled your cheek - affectionate but with control in those fingers. “I want your pretty mouth.”

You unbuckled his belt and unzipped his pants, and pushed his boxer briefs down, exposing his thick, glorious, hard cock.

Then your gaze flickered to the side, toward the entrance to the dark gallery.

James brought his other hand up to frame your face, now holding your head in both his hands.

“Keep your eyes on me.”

You bit your lip but nodded. He smiled. Every moment had your body more abuzz - desire, the rush of being so exposed in public, this new relationship, how intoxicating he was.

“Now open up.”

You parted your lips, placed your hands on his thighs, and he eased his cock into your mouth. The tang of his precum hit your tastebuds, and the warm weight of him had you hum as you closed your lips around him.

“Mmmm, like that,” he cooed, slowly pushing his length to the back of your throat. He drew back a little, still holding your head in his hands, and pushed in again. Back and in again. Then he pressed his tip a little more insistently against your esophagus. “Relax and let me in, let me use your throat.”

You whimpered, but blinked once, still looking up into his deep blue eyes, and squeezed his thighs a little to let him know you were ready.

He didn’t rush, but he set an insistent pace, rocking in and out of your throat, groaning when he finally pushed all the way in, your nose nudging against the pubic hair at his base. You concentrated on breathing evenly through your nose, blinking through the tears that sprung from your eyes. His fingers were there to brush away those tears immediately, and the tenderness while he forcefully took your throat made you keen.

He rutted into you a few more times, and you could feel him absolutely throbbing, ready to let him spill into your mouth and down your throat, something you almost never let anyone else do before him, but then suddenly he pulled out, and hauled you up.

“Wha-“

He stopped your words with a consuming kiss, licking into your mouth, growling when he tasted himself there. He hauled your leg up around his hip, and you clung to his shoulders.

“My good girl deserves my cock in her dripping cunt, doesn’t she?”

“God, yes!”

He pushed the delicate lace of your panties aside, quickly lined up his thick, throbbing head inside of your slick heat, and drove up into you, claiming your lips immediately again once he was sheathed in you. You wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling closer, desperate to anchor in this moment of desperate passion.

As your leg gripped around him, his hand slid down to control your hip and leverage his thrusts.

You expected him to draw away from your lips, say more filthy things, but he didn’t for once, seemingly as needy as you to race to this finish. His other hand moved between your bodies and quickly sought your clit, already knowing each inch of your body better than his own. Quick circles over the bud at his fingertips escalated the tightening in your stomach, rough, punching thrusts, and then you were clenching and cried out against his lips, turning your head to pant into his neck as your orgasm washed over you in a rush. You trembled in his arms as he pumped furiously into you, and then he groaned as he shot his own release into you.

Quick, rough, claimed.

Satiated.

He laughed softly then kissed you again, more softly, still inside you for another moment.

Then he sunk down on one knee before you and brought your left leg up to perch on his knee. He drew a handkerchief out of the inner breast pocket of his dinner jacket, and then gently cleaned up your mixed spend from your core. He pressed a hot kiss to the exposed flesh of your thigh just above your fishnet stockings and righted your panties.

“You’ve so quickly become everything to me.”

Your heart stuttered, and you pulled him up for another kiss. He smoothed the long skirt of your dress back down, smoothed his hands up and down your waist, pulled you flush against his chest to run his hands up and down the expanse of your exposed back.

“All mine,” he murmured against your lips.

Then he reached into his pocket and pulled out a few after dinner mints he had apparently snatched from the table. You giggled and shook your head, but took all three eagerly, popping the first into your mouth.

He took your other hand in his, threading your fingers together, and drew it up to his mouth. “And I’m yours,” he added before pressing a kiss to the back of your hand.

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#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x female reader #bucky barnes smut #mob au #mob boss!bucky #bucky barnes au #Aspen asks #Aspen wrote something #devour au #devour: salt fat acid heat

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bubblessunshinehoney · 1 year

Text

Big fan (part1)

Hi guys, i came with this little idea, writer!reader and Bucky. This is how they met! Would you like to read more of them?

TW: none, sweet first time meet...

Don't be shy: reblog, comment and like !

Love,

Cloudy !

no beta read

Serie masterlist

Chapter 1 | Chapter 2

Were you dreaming? Was it just an illusion ?

You just got out of the museum, the one with the historic heroic life of captain America and you did spend quite a while studying James Buchanan Barnes.

But was it really him, sipping coffee, reading a book in the corner if your favourite cafe ?

You must be dreaming, thing like this never happened to you. You couldn’t stop glancing at him. He was truly better in real life. The old pictures of him in the museum were already stunning but right now…the man felt like an angel…and you’ll be damned if you didn’t go talk to him.

Wait, to talk to him, who am i?

Unknown to you, Bucky was enjoying seeing you struggle to stop looking at him. He found you pretty, the prettiest woman he ever saw since he was back…

He felt hot under your gaze, a good warm feeling, not the one that make him want to disappear when some other people were staring at him.

He saw your open book on the table, long forgotten since he settled at his table. He liked that book, he wanted to know if you liked it.

Was he really going to go ask you that, no way…I’ll make her run away, like always.

For the first time, since you were both staring at each other your eyes met. And…let’s just say, it was like in the movies, the world stop to turn and the noise faded away, letting only your hearts beating hard and loud in your ears.

A sheepish smile came on both of your face, you felt yourself blushing and you saw that the cheeks of the man you were looking at were also quite…pink.

He waved at you and your heart stopped.

He waved at me?

You waved back and his smile grew bigger and gosh that was the most beautiful thing you’ve seen this week.

You stand up at the same time. A giggle left your mouth and Bucky wish to hear it for the rest of his life.

He walks to you. “Hi, i..i saw you reading this book, and…I’ve read it and absolutely loved it, what do you think of it?”

You look at the book on your table and get redder that you can imagine.

“well, ehm. I’m glad you’ve loved it, I’m the author?”

Why did it came out as a question?

Bucky looks at you in awe. “You’re Y/N L/N?”

You nod and he goes back to his table and takes his bag and takes out your book, he comes back to your table.

“Is it too much to ask for an autograph?”

You laugh softly and takes out the guide from the museum with his face on it. “Only if I can have one in return, Mr.Barnes”.

Chapter 2

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sarahowritesostucky · 2 months

Text

Rating: Explicit

Pairing: Steve x Bucky

Word count: 2101

Tags: a/b/o, arranged marriage, domestic discipline, spanking, head of household, dom/sub elements, alpha Steve, beta Bucky, hurt/comfort, wedding night, alternate history, nobility/royalty au, Edwardian time period, m/f/m poly marriage, enemies to lovers

Summary: To save House Barnes from scandalous ruin, eldest son James must agree to a contracted marriage, accepting Lord Senator Steven Rogers as his Alpha, Husband, and Headship.

To read previous parts of this series first, got to the story's masterlist

10. A Sojourn in London

This Chapter: He imagines his life, spent stifled and serving Steve in mundane ways, watching some faceless omega inevitably claim all of Steve’s sexual interest and produce children for him while Bucky slowly goes insane from the boredom of an unimpressive, domestic life.

Bucky and Steve might be high Society in America, part of the Senatorial ruling class, but they aren’t actual royalty. The Duke and Duchess of Kent however, are. And their living accommodations reflect it.

The carriage pulls through to the inner courtyard at Kensington Palace, and Steve offers his hand to help Bucky down. He takes his arm as they’re guided into the palace and shown the way to a grand ballroom. Bucky has to double check that his mouth is closed a few times as he looks around.

There are lots of other people, all just as finely or better dressed than Steve and Bucky are. Bucky catalogues the number of diamonds and other jewels that he can see adorning the heads and dripping from the throats of all the ladies, quickly deducing that, outside of the British Museum’s Crown Jewels exhibit, he’s never been surrounded by such wealth. “Jeez,” he mutters to Steve. “The Queen’s not making an appearance, is she?”

Steve chuckles and mutters back, “I don’t think so, Buck.”

Bucky smiles politely at the first two couples who come up to introduce themselves and chat. The Lady Cavendish is alpha and there with her beta husband. Another, Lord Barrows, is with both of his triad. The alphas both talk with Steve and eventually Bucky joins in. But the group gets quiet when he does. Lady Cavendish seems taken-aback. “My,” she says, looking unsure if she should be amused or annoyed. “You Americans certainly have relaxed manners.”

Bucky frowns, not understanding her meaning but pretty sure that he’s just been insulted. Steve’s hand comes out and pulls Bucky in against his side, almost possessively. “You’ll have to forgive my husband,” he says. “He’s never traveled enough to acquaint himself with European customs.”

Lord Barrows and his spouses smile and nod, and Bucky is left both confused and annoyed. He can’t help feeling that he’s being laughed at. “What?” he asks, peeved.

Steve squeezes him the tiniest bit tighter against his side at his tone. “It’s customary in British society for Spouses to wait on their Headship for invitation into the conversation,” he tells Bucky.

Bucky can tell from Steve’s tone that he’s trying to appear in-control to the other people. He can also definitely tell that Steve is waiting for him to blow up. Though he does feel indignation zip through him at hearing such antiquated nonsense, Bucky doesn’t say anything more than, “Oh.”

Steve seems relieved. His hold on Bucky relaxes. “That’s alright, darling. You didn’t know.”

Bucky wants to make a face at Steve calling him ‘darling’. It’s so obviously faked. Sure, Bucky understands that airs have to be put on at Society functions, but he’s not used to it with Steve. He doesn’t like it. “I’d be interested to know what other customs I’m ignorant of,” he muses, then pauses to look at the other two alphas. “That is, if I’ve been ‘invited into the conversation’?” He looks wide-eyed at Steve, pretending like he cares.

Steve’s lips quirk the barest amount, but he nods and says, “Of course.”

“Oh thank you, husband,” Bucky simpers. He doesn’t think the other guests are aware of how close he is to gagging. He looks back over to Lady Cavendish and her husband. “Well?” he asks. “What else should I know?”

“Your fashions are more liberal,” Lady Cavendish says. Now she looks mostly amused by Bucky, if also somewhat disapproving. She nods to her beta and says, “What do you think, Dear?”

Lord Cavendish perks up at his chance to speak. “Yes, I had noticed that.” His eyes run up and down Bucky’s outfit like he’s found several things lacking. It makes Bucky uncomfortable, and he has to fight not to squirm and look down at himself. “Your wrists are covered,” the other man notes. “No beta in London Society would be caught in public with such an ill-tailored jacket.”

Bucky flushes. “It’s not ill-tailored,” he snaps. He’d noticed after a turn of the ballroom that all the other married betas’ suits and dress sleeves don’t reach past their wrist bones, leaving their wedding wristbands on full display. “It’s what’s fashionable.”

Cavendish Shrugs. “In America, perhaps.”

“In the twentieth century!” Bucky scowls. “Christ. Get over yourself. Not everyone needs to advertise themselves like property.”

Lord Cavendish doesn’t say anything back to him, just stands there smugly at having gotten such a reaction out of Bucky. His wife, however, says, “Well I never,” as if that fully-encapsulates her disdain for Bucky’s attitude.

Maybe it does, because the next thing Bucky knows, Steve is gripping him by the back of the neck, jostling him in a classic scruff. Bucky’s mouth falls open at the domineering gesture, a surprised sound leaving him without his permission. The shock of the action outweighs any outrage he might otherwise feel. “I’m sorry,” Steve is apologizing to the group. “Please, do excuse us.”

The two other Headships titter as Steve steers Bucky away. Bucky goes red all the way to his ears, he’s sure of it. Steve has gotten him out into the hallway before Bucky can manage to react in any way, which is good news, because he’s not sure what he might have yelled at those people, if given the chance. He jerks out of Steve’s hold the second they’re alone in the hall. “Are you fucking kidding me?!” he yells, relieved when Steve lets him go. “Scruffing me? In front of a whole room full of people?!”

“Bucky, calm down.”

He glowers at Steve, feeling like his head is going to explode. “What the hell, Steve!”

Steve steps into his space, pressing him against the wall. “Lower. your. voice.”

Bucky would scream, if Steve hadn’t just Voiced the specific command to do the opposite at him. “How could you do that?” he hisses instead, feeling betrayed. “How? Are you trying to humiliate me?”

Steve shakes his head. “No. Of course not. It’s their custom, Buck. I couldn’t be seen to do nothing when you spoke to them like that. I told you: everything’s a lot more formal over here.”

Bucky growls. “You didn’t have to do that.” He hasn’t seen an adult, let alone an adult beta, be scruffed by their Headship in public in he doesn’t know how many years. It’s a demeaning, authoritative sort of thing. Bucky feels like crawling into the ground, knowing that a ballroom full of British Society just witnessed it being done to him. “I hate you,” he spits.

Steve sighs. “No, you don’t.”

“I do!”

“Shh!” Steve looks reproachfully at him. “I can’t let you disrespect our union in front of those people, Bucky.”

“I wasn’t!”

“To them, you were.” Steve looks pointedly at him. “And you know it, too. You were being rude.”

“So what?” Bucky snaps.

“Seriously?” Steve frowns at him. “Do you want me to have to discipline you? Because I will, if you keep this up in public.”

Someone nearby clears their throat, and both Steve and Bucky’s heads turn to see Lord Barrows standing there. “Sorry,” he says, not looking sorry at all. He steps over and pulls something from under his dress coat, handing it to Steve.

Bucky’s eyes widen when he sees what it is. “The fuck?” he breathes before he can help it. “You carry a cane on you?”

Barrows smiles at Bucky like he’s a misbehaving child, but he speaks to Steve. “It’s a switch. I thought you might need it.” His eyes flick over Bucky, then Back to Steve. “See you at the dinner table, yes?” He turns and starts walking away.

“Um, yeah,” Steve mutters. He waits until Barrows is gone before turning back to Bucky. He holds the switch between them, looking just as shocked as Bucky feels. “Well.”

Bucky’s belly flips at the implicit threat of the implement. He doesn’t like seeing it in Steve’s hand, wants to knock it to the floor. “Christ,” he mutters. “These people live in the fucking dark ages.”

“They’re strict.”

“Ya think?” Bucky scoffs.

“All Senatorial Households have canes,” Steve says. “Even your family must’ve.”

“Not as an amenity for dinner guests to use!” Bucky snatches the switch from Steve’s hand and holds it in front of his face. “You’d seriously hit me with this?”

“Senator?” Both Bucky and Steve’s heads whip up again. It’s Lady Cavendish this time. She looks distinctly interested in what she’s interrupted as she informs them, “Dinner is about to be served. Everyone is convening in the dining room.”

"Butt out!" Bucky snaps.

“Thank you,” Steve says. “We’ll be there presently.”

Lady Cavendish affords them one last, curious glance, then nods and hurries out of sight. Steve turns his attention back to Bucky. He looks very displeased. He holds out his hand. “Give me that. Now.”

Bucky gulps. Slowly, not wanting to, he gives the switch to Steve. He’s unable to tear his eyes away from the sight of Steve’s fingers curling around the handle. “Are you going to hit me?” he asks, surprised by how tiny his voice sounds when it comes out.

Steve sighs heavily. “No, Bucky. I’m not.” He sets the switch aside. “I’d never hurt you like that. Not for anything so minor.”

Privately, Bucky wonders what infraction would be serious enough in Steve’s book to warrant such a punishment. He decides against asking. “I don’t want to go back in there,” he says instead. “They’ll all think you were out here punishing me.”

Steve arches an eyebrow. “Nothing wrong with that.”

“Hey!”

“Come on," he says, with a bit of a snicker. He takes Bucky's arm and guides him back out to the ballroom. “Try and act like a properly admonished Spouse now, would you?”

Bucky makes a low growling sound, but says nothing. They are only steps away from entering the dining room, after all.

Dinner isn’t much better than the ballroom, unfortunately. The upside is that, once again, Bucky's not expected to participate in any of the conversation. So he can just focus on eating his—delicious, he must admit—food. The downside is that he has to wait for Steve to serve that food to him.

He's taken aback when he first notices it: the footmen bringing the courses out and setting them down only in front of the alphas. Bucky stares at a triad across the table as the Headship moves some of the food from her plate onto her beta’s plate, and then some onto her omega’s. Bucky flushes, suddenly remembering how that’d been one of the customs he’d observed when his father had brought him to a British state dinner when he was younger. Seeing it again, and especially with Steve sitting next to him as his Alpha, is oddly mortifying. Bucky has to wait while Steve is served his dish and the lid is pulled off. Steve looks over at him expectantly. “Well?”

“Seriously?” Bucky hisses. The other Spouses all have polite phrases that they use to ask their Alphas to be served. Steve smirks at Bucky as he waits for a response. “You’re enjoying this,” Bucky accuses, and the alpha shrugs.

“Maybe a little. Here.” He takes Bucky’s plate and gives him well over half the portion. “I’m not actually going to make you say it.”

Bucky grunts, angry but also a little bit pleased that Steve is ladling over most of the spinach puffs. I’d rather starve, is what he thinks, but out loud he says, “Well ... good.”

The rest of the dinner is spent in a similar, mildly-torturous fashion. Bucky sits quiet and pretty and lets Steve serve him each course, and he observes all of the Triads with their proper etiquette and rigidly defined roles, how insipidly all the beta and omega Spouses behave. He imagines his life, spent stifled and serving Steve in mundane ways, watching some faceless omega inevitably claim all of Steve’s sexual interest and produce children for him while Bucky slowly goes insane from the boredom of an unimpressive, domestic life.

When the Headship of the Triad directly across the table from them makes a rather obnoxious joke about omega suffrage—and Steve laughs along, mind you (Bucky doesn’t care if it's forced or not)—Bucky makes up his mind that he’s not going to let this happen to him. He’s not going to become one of those beta Spouses across the dining table, not going to resign himself to a life as an invisible Second who takes only what he's given and says 'thank you' for it.

Omegas and betas don’t have the right to divorce their Head of Household, but Alphas can choose to initiate the process if they wish. With the dowry to protect his family now permanently secured, Bucky makes a decision right then and there to do everything he can to drive Steve away.

If he can make Steve want a divorce, he’ll be free.

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starryevermore · 1 year

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best believe i’m still bejeweled ✧ steven grant, marc spector, jake lockley, & bucky barnes

angst city™ library | send in a request (consult request faqs first)

pairing: steven grant x fem!reader x marc spector x jake lockley; bucky barnes x fem!reader

summary: you think you’ve been too good of a girl. did all the extra credit, then got graded on a curve. you think it’s time to teach some lessons. because, you made him your world. but did he hear? you can reclaim the land. and you miss him, but you miss sparkling.

word count: 4,861

warnings?: angst city™ bitch, referenced cheating, breaking up, implied smut, a lil fluff, pet name (love/mi amor/doll), not proofread

Between the two of them, you never expected Steven to be the one to break your heart. No, not sweet Steven who stuttered his way through pick up lines. Not kind Steven who tripped over his feet as he rushed forward to open a door for you. Not soft Steven who was so unsure of how to act in a relationship but never failed to make you smile so hard your cheeks hurt, laugh so hard your belly ached. Marc, after all, was the one who would run when he was scared. Marc was the one who ran from his (now ex) wife when he thought Khonshu was going to make her his avatar. Marc was the one who was so cold to you at the start, so unsure of if you would treat sweet Steven right. And yet, Marc was not the one making you cry right now.

Steven had asked you out nearly a year ago. Your relationship had moved at a near snail’s pace. You understood. He had never been in a real relationship before. You didn’t want to rush him into anything he wasn’t comfortable with. Between that and the sleep disorder where he would lose days at a time (that turned out to be DID), nothing in this relationship could ever be considered fast. Except, perhaps, how fast Steven was to rip your heart out and stomp on it.

“You…what?”

“I’m sorry, love. I really am.”

It had been a month to the day since Steven had disappeared to Egypt. You had heard that Steven had been fired. Steven had loved what he did, even if he had aspirations for the tour guide position. But even as a gift shop worker, Steven was happy at the museum. He was content. When the news made its way to you as you took a break between tour groups, you found yourself taking the day off, rushing to Steven’s flat to see if he was okay.

Another woman had been there. Layla, her name was. She could have been a model she was so stunning. Between her stunning curls and her piercing eyes, the way she seemed so sure of herself, you felt small. Insufficient. You hadn’t felt that way in a long time. (You didn’t want to feel that way ever again.) It turned out, Layla was Steven’s—well, no, Marc’s—wife. She and Marc had been looking for a scarab. A lot of the words went in one ear and out the other. You couldn’t stop focusing on wife, the word swirling in your head, banging against the walls of your skull, telling you that Steven wasn’t yours. Perhaps he never had been. That night, Layla and Steven disappeared.

When he came back, telling you about Marc and Khonshu and Ammit and a man named Harrow and how he had gone to the Duat and how Layla became Taweret’s avatar and how the two of them defeated Ammit and Harrow, you did your best to be supportive. To take it one step of the time. You listened to his every story. You introduced yourself to Marc. You tried to ignore the sting every time Layla’s name was brought. Layla was the past, Marc assured you. He had signed the divorce papers as soon as the two of them returned to London. But there was always something in the way he spoke, the way he chose his words oh so carefully, that told you he was hiding something. You wondered what happened between Layla and Steven in Egypt, but you feared the answer, so you never asked the question.

“It’s just…Layla understands me. She gets me. I’ve never felt like this before.”

It felt like your mouth had been stuffed with cotton. Did you not understand him? you wanted to ask. What did he think of you? Did he think you didn’t care? How…How had you made him feel?

“Oh” was all you could manage to say.

When Steven had invited you to his flat, you had expected a quiet date night. He had promised you one when he got back to London. Said he wanted to make things up to you for leaving so suddenly, for not offering you an explanation at the time. Steven said he would put on whatever movie you wanted, that he would fix your favorite food, that the two of you could cuddle under the blanket you knitted him, that things would be like they always had been.

But when you got to the flat, everything was silent. There was no aroma of your favorite food wafting through the air. There was no theme song playing on the menu screen of the DVD, waiting for one of you to press play. Only a single light was on in the kitchen, illuminating Steven’s handsome, but worried, face. You asked him what was wrong. He blurted out that he didn’t want to be with you anymore.

“I mean, you understand me too!” he was quick to add. You doubted the sincerity of his words. “It’s just…Layla’s different, y’know? She sees me. She sees me for what I am, what I could be.”

“So do I.” You looked at him. Blinked back the tears stinging your eyes. “I’ve loved you from the moment I first saw you.”

His Adam’s apple bobbed up and down his throat. “You’ve only seen me as the dorky guy who could only fuck things up. She sees me as someone brilliant.”

“I’ve always thought you were brilliant, Steven.”

Steven shook his head. “I can’t explain it, love—”

“—please don’t call me that. Not when you’re breaking my heart—”

“—but when I kissed her in Egypt, I just…I don’t know. I knew, I guess. That she was the one—”

It felt like someone had dumped a bucket of ice water on top of you. It felt like someone had injected icicles straight into your veins. It felt like Steven had picked up your heart, the very one he had stomped on, and threw it in a fucking blender.

Wordlessly, you walked away. You went to the closet, tugging your clothes off of hangers. You collected your makeup and perfume and toiletries from the bathroom. You grabbed your books, your DVDs, your trinkets and treasures. You dumped it all in the duffel you had brought over, shoving and cramming it all in there, not caring if any of it got ruined. You didn’t ever have much at Steven’s place. You didn’t want to spook him, to make him think you were moving too fast. But there was just enough there that, when it was taken away, the flat looked oddly empty.

You looked at the blanket you knitted for Steven. It rested on the couch, all folded up and nice. You considered grabbing it, too. But it hurt to look at. You couldn’t imagine how much it would hurt to have.

“What are you doing?”

It was Marc now, the American accent completely distinct from Steven.

“I can’t do this,” you said, finally getting the zipper to shut. You let out a sigh, crossing your arms over your chest. “…Did you know, Marc? Did you know that he had kissed her?”

“I didn’t want to hurt you.”

“That doesn’t answer my question.”

Marc came up behind you, wrapping his arms around your waist. You tried to wiggle away, but his grip only tightened. Damn Khonshu for making him so strong.

“I knew,” he whispered. “I thought…I don’t know. That it was the heat of the moment. I thought if he made it back to you, that he would realize he made a mistake. I didn’t think…If I had known he was going to leave you, I would’ve told you…”

“You should’ve told me to begin with. Didn’t I deserve the truth?”

He was quiet for a moment. Then— “I was scared you might leave Steven. I was scared you would break his heart.”

“Yet, breaking my heart was okay.”

You finally pulled out of Marc’s grasp. You reached for your purse, fishing out your keys. You twisted the little gold one off the keyring, placing it on the end table next to the couch. You didn’t intend on coming back here. What reason did you have to do so? You picked up your duffel and purse, looked back at Marc. You weren’t sure if it was a trick of the light, but he almost looked like he was about to cry.

“…Take care of him, please.”

“I will.” He stared at you as if he was trying to memorize how you looked. “Where are you…What are you gonna do?”

You hesitated. You weren’t sure. You didn’t really want to go back to your job, to your regular life. Too much of it was tainted with Steven, with memories of how he loved you. In the back of your mind, you remembered a call you’d realized the day Steven had left for Egypt.

The Avengers had been slowly rebuilding after the Blip. The news was wrought with new heroes coming out of the woodwork, taking on old heroes’ mantles, claiming new ones. You figured it was only a matter of time before someone finally got a hold of you.

Early in your relationship, you had confined in Steven that you used to be something of a vigilante. That you’d been in an accident and walked away with unharmed, save for the ability to control fire. You had been angry in your youth, hated the lack of justice in the world. You did your best to defend the defenseless. As you got older, as the Sovokia Accords became a frightening reality, you hung up your hero hat and tried to return to a normal life. Even after the Accords had been repealed, you found yourself too comfortable in a normality to return to the danger of the real world. Steven had thought you were incredible when you told him, thought you were a true hero. You wondered what he would think of you now, what he would think of you considering becoming one of Earth’s Mightiest Heroes.

“I think I’m gonna try to get a fresh start.”

By the end of the week, you had crossed the pond. You didn’t look back.

It took exactly a week after Steven broke up with you for Jake Lockley to make himself known to the system. Jake had fully intended to never reveal himself to Marc or Steven. He liked his privacy. He didn’t see the need to make himself known. But when Steven broke up with you…Jake gave Steven a week to make things right. When that never happened, Jake saw red.

Steven only caught bits and pieces of Jake’s first words at him. He hadn’t been expecting an angry little man to be yelling at him in rapid fire Spanish, spit flying from the corners of his mouth as he shouted. Steven knew enough of French to understand parts of the Spanish, catching something about him being a complete idiot, that he must have been hit in the head too hard when fighting against Ammit and Harrow, that only someone who lost their mind would throw away something so good. Jake’s words stung some—Steven did feel guilty about breaking up with you the way he did, but the words didn’t have as full of an impact because Steven didn’t know Jake well enough to care about what he said—but what hurt more was to see Marc nodding along, silently agreeing with what Jake said.

“I’ll go apologize to her—” Steven tried to say when Jake paused long enough for Steven to have a chance to talk.

“Good luck with that. She left. She’s gone.”

…Steven hadn’t been expecting that. “What? What do you mean she’s gone? She couldn’t have left London so soon!”

“She didn’t just leave London. She left the whole fucking country.” Jake ground his teeth together. “You broke her heart so bad she took the first job offer to get the hell away from you.”

He wanted to ask how Jake knew that. How he knew that you left. (Had Jake tried to visit you? Had Jake been stalking you? How could Steven even trust that this new guy was telling him the truth? But…what if you were gone? What if you had left because you couldn’t stand to be in the same city as Steven anymore? Was it selfish to think that? To think he had such an impact on you?)

Steven swallowed his tears and said, “I’m sorry if I drove her away, but…Don’t I deserve to be happy? Why do I have to be with her when she doesn’t make me happy anymore?”

Jake snarled something that Steven couldn’t quite hear, but said nothing more. Jake didn’t say anything to Steven for a long time. Marc didn’t either. It was…Well, it was strange. Having a head all to himself. Even though he hadn’t had Marc for long, Steven had gotten used to him being there. At one point, that was all Steven had wanted, all he wanted was for his head to only be his head. That he didn’t have to share what was his. But now that he was actually alone, it felt wrong.

It almost made him wish that Jake and Marc were still around, if only to blame them when things didn’t work out with Layla. God, he wished it had worked out. At least if he and Layla were together, he could at least pretend the isolation was worth it.

Layla had been so excited when Steven asked on a date—of course, after the initial confusion since she thought he was still dating you. But she was so happy when he invited her to dinner at this nice vegan restaurant he loved. She told him how she couldn’t stop thinking about their kiss, that she regretted agreeing to sign the divorce papers because that meant she wouldn’t have any tie to him. That she was excited to see where this would go.

Any excitement Steven shared started to die on that first date. When he walked in, the hostess immediately recognized him. You and him had gone there to eat a lot. The hostess asked where you were, barely hiding the confusion on her face when he said he was seeing someone else, that the two of you had gone separate ways. (“But why? You two were so adorable together!”) When they were sat a table, looking over the menu, Steven fiddled with his tie. It didn’t look nearly as nice as when you would tie it for him. He missed the way you would look at him with nothing but love in your eyes, how you would lean in and press kiss to the tip of his nose when you were done. When Layla complimented his shirt, he fought the urge to say you got it for him. (Why did he choose this shirt? Was his subconscious trying to tell him something? Were Marc and Jake controlling his actions when he picked it out?)

But the date went well enough that there was a second, and then a third. Yet, the thoughts of you plagued his mind. He never meant to, but Steven kept finding himself drawing comparisons between you and Layla. It wasn’t fair to her. It wasn’t fair to you, either, he supposed. But now that he made you leave…All he wanted was to see you again.

It was after that third date that things came crashing to an end.

“I don’t think this is working out,” Layla said. She had lifted her head from Steven’s chest, staring at him, trying to gauge his reaction. “I…This has been lovely, Steven. It really has. But, I don’t know. I don’t feel…”

“The same spark?” Steven finished. Layla nodded. “I thought it was just me, if I’m being honest. Makes me feel a bit better that you felt the same. Still fit a bit like shit, but…”

“Yeah. I get it.” Layla got up, gathering one of the sheets to cover her body as she collected her clothes. “I’m gonna head out, okay? And…If you ever just want to hang out as friends, give me a call.”

“Yeah. You too.”

And just like that…Steven was all alone again. And it was all his fault.

You never expected to move on. Learning that your boyfriend had cheated on you with his sort-of-wife-but-actually-the-wife-of-Marc was something that should have made you swear off dating forever. After all, you’d been cheated on before and it took you years to feel comfortable enough to dip your toe back into the dating pool, and that had certainly been a far less complicated situation than this. You had expected to wallow in self-pity for months, to eat your weight in ice cream. To avoid going to bars so that you don’t have to be hit on and explain to people that you want to get drunk, not have sex with a stranger. To go through the inevitable conversation with your co-workers of why you’re not dating and why you don’t appreciate being set up on dates. You expected a lot of things. But never expected to be swept off your feet by a certain blue-eyed, metal-armed super soldier.

Bucky Barnes was a sweetheart who put Steven’s sweetness to shame. He was a lot more confident than Steven. (Or, at least, the Steven you were more familiar with. When Steven came back from Egypt, he carried himself differently. You had chalked it up to him and Marc finally finding peace together. You now wondered if it was because a certain gorgeous ex-wife of Marc’s had swept him off his feet.) When you first came to the Avengers Compound, Bucky was the one to greet you. He made a snarky remark about Sam putting him on tour guide duty, and you rebutted with how you probably had more tour guide experience than him. Somehow, Bucky convinced you to give him the tour, you making things up as you led him around the Compound, inside jokes being created easily between the two of you. (In the end, you found yourself getting lost in the Compound for a week and having to call on Bucky to lead you back to where you needed to go. You were pretty sure that was his entire plan, and you loved every second of it.)

“It’s easy to be around you,” Bucky told you one day, a few months into your time with the Avengers. The two of you were eating lunch on the roof, ignoring the rest of the world together. “I don’t feel like I have to pretend that I’m someone I’m not, you know? People know as Steve’s best friend, so they expect me to act just as righteous and holy as him. Or people see me as the Winter Soldier and think I’m going to go on a rampage at the drop of a hat. But you…You just see me as Bucky, and I like being just Bucky.”

His confession made your heart warm. “It’s easy to be around you, too.” You weren’t sure what compelled you to say it, but you found yourself admitting, “I just got broken up with before I came here, you know. It was…complicated. It turned out the sleeping disorder we thought my boyfriend had was actually DID. And the host…Well, he had a wife.”

“Oh, shit.”

Oh shit, indeed.

“And they were all wrapped up in this adventure, you know. The host and the wife. Well, my boyfriend found out about it and got wrapped up, too. He ran off to Egypt with the wife. They came back, a divorce was made official, and my boyfriend pretended he never kissed the wife while he was away. You know, until a month later when he decided he’d rather be with her than me. Apparently, she understood him and I didn’t.” You shrugged, picking at the sandwich you were eating. “I had just gotten the offer to join the Avengers right before he broke up with me. I took it as a sign to put some distance between us. When I got here, I was ready to just be a recluse and be miserable all the time. Instead, you made me laugh for the first time in a week.”

“Laugh so hard you tripped and fell down the stairs?”

“Okay, it was like two stairs, and you need to let me live that down!” you laughed, smacking his bicep. “But, seriously, I’m glad I make you feel comfortable, because you make me feel comfortable.”

And when he smiled at you…God, it made you feel so warm and fuzzy inside. It only made sense that, three months later, you asked Bucky on a date.

Dating Bucky was like a dream come true. Bucky brought you flowers every time he came to your apartment. Bucky brought you little presents—your favorite chocolate, little trinkets, your coffee order—just because. Bucky looked at you like you hung the stars in the sky. Bucky knew the sidewalk rule. Bucky made you feel loved when you had thought you might never love again. If you thought Steven was the sweetest man you’d ever met, then Bucky was an angel sent down to you straight from heaven. It was easy to forget about Steven when you were with Bucky. It was easy to forget why you joined the Avengers in the first place. It was easy to forget why your heart had been broken in the first place. It was easy to forget who broke your heart.

But, with all good things…Well, it didn’t come to an end. It certainly felt like it, though, when you heard that the Avengers had recruited a certain Moon Knight for a mission. Apparently, their knowledge of ancient Egypt was necessary for the mission. (As if you weren’t just as knowledgeable! Though, you supposed there was something to be gained by having an Egyptian god on your side.)

Still, you were ready to cry when the news reached you. You did cry, actually. Bucky had been the one to tell you, said that he thought it might be best coming from him. It probably was. It didn’t stop you from bawling in his arms for an hour because you never, ever, ever wanted to see Steven Grant again. You couldn’t handle it. You couldn’t handle seeing his face, knowing that he was happy without you, even if you were equally happy without him.

You had once thought you would spend the rest of your life with him, after all. That’s not something that you just forget. That’s not something that you just ignore.

Then the day came. It had felt like any other day, save for the heaviness you felt in your chest. From the moment you woke up, the dread settled deep in your bones. You half considered not even showing up at the Compound. Surely you could come up with a good enough excuse. But…Well, you would have to see them eventually. You were supposed to go on the mission, too, and that wasn’t something you could easily get out of. So, you sucked it up and went to work.

He was there when you arrived. He stood straight, shoulders back. Marc must’ve been fronting, you mused. Though, the flat cap was something new. Neither Marc nor Steven were the kind of people who wore hats very often. Of course, Marc did sport the occasional ball cap from time to time, but that was very different from a flat cap. Perhaps more had changed than you originally thought.

As you walked into the Compound, he turned, as if he knew you were there. You paused when you saw his face. He wasn’t…That wasn’t Marc. And that wasn’t Steven. You couldn’t stop yourself from saying, “You’re different.”

His face brightened when he realized you were talking to him. He reached out, taking your hand. He lifted it to his lips, pressing a kiss to your knuckles. “Jake Lockley, mi amor.”

Your heart clenched at the pet name. It didn’t feel right. Not coming from a man who wore the same face as Steven. “Are you…Are you new? Did something happen?”

Jake shook his head. “Not new, mi amor. I kept to myself. Did Khonshu’s business when he needed me, left when he didn’t.”

“Then, what made you stop keeping to yourself?”

His smile dropped. His jaw clenched. For a second, you worried that you had upset him. Perhaps something bad had happened. Perhaps that was why he made himself known to the system. Perhaps you were digging up bad memories. Then— “Steven broke up with you.”

Oh. Well…That didn’t make any sense. And you told Jake as much.

“Who do you think was the one who asked you out, mi amor? Poor guy could barely even speak to you.”

You thought back to that day. How Steven came up to you, not quite sounding the same. His voice held more…charm? Charisma? Steven had leaned against the counter in the gift shop, a huge, dimply smile on his face, as he asked you on a date to this new vegan restaurant that had opened up. How you had never seen him smile like that before. How you never really saw him smile like that again. That is, until now, as he stood in front you, the huge dimply smile on full display.

“You pretended to be Steven.”

“You make him happy. You make all of us happy.”

“Layla makes him happier.” Perhaps that was petty to say. But, if anyone was entitled to a healthy dose of pettiness, it surely had to be you.

Jake shook his head, but before he could argue like he seemed like he wanted to, you felt a hand on your waist. Jake’s face twisted into confusion, a small hint of anger hidden in his eyes, as he zeroed in on the metal hand.

“Is everything alright, doll?” Bucky asked.

You looked at him, smiling without meaning to. “Yeah, yeah. I was just…meeting Jake.”

“I thought it was just Marc and Steven?”

“So did I. Apparently Jake’s been hiding from them,” you said. You looked at Jake. “Well, um, I have to go train. It was nice meeting you, I guess.”

You turned, lacing your fingers through Bucky’s, ready to drag him away. Okay, perhaps training wasn’t the thing you had on your mind. Perhaps you actually wanted to go find an empty room and cry again. Perhaps you wanted to run away, try to forget all of this even happened. But a warm hand grabbed your wrist, holding you in place.

“Wait.”

That was Steven.

You wrenched your wrist away, turning and giving him the iciest glare you could muster. “What do you want?” you nearly spat.

“I made a mistake,” he said. His pretty puppy dogs made your heart crack, just a little bit. “I-I was wrong. Layla wasn’t the one who understood me. You were. You are. I’m so sorry, love. I wanted to…I wanted to try again. Please.”

You swallowed hard. Those were all the words you’d wanted to hear a year ago, when you were leaving his flat. Those were the words you wished he said before you left London. When you were at the airport, you wished this was some cheesy romcom and Steven would come running, confess his undying love for you. But he was too late. Your heart didn’t belong to him anymore.

“You’re not stupid, Steven,” you said finally. “You had to have known I’d move on. I don’t…I didn’t deserve what you did to me. And I don’t deserve you standing in front of me, saying everything I wanted to hear a year ago. I’m no one’s second choice, Steven. I moved on.” You looked at Bucky, who was watching you, pointedly ignoring your ex. “I found someone who understands me.”

“I understood you,” Steven said.

“Clearly not if you thought that confession would have gotten you what you wanted.” You looked back to Steven, your heart cracking a bit more at the tears in his eyes. “How long did it even last with Layla? Did you break up with her right before you came here? Give her the same treatment as me?”

“That’s not fair.”

“No, what wasn’t fair was kissing someone else when you were in a relationship.”

Steven looked away, down at his feet. “It didn’t last long. A month or two. It wasn’t the same as it was with you.”

You hummed. “I suppose that’s what happens when you throw away a perfectly good relationship away on a whim.” You started to turn to walk away. “Goodbye, Steven. I hope you find what you’re looking for one day.”

And, as you caught another glimpse at his teary eyes, you doubted he ever would. You were what Steven wanted, but you would never settle for less than you deserve.

“Goodbye, love.”

#steven grant imagine #steven grant x reader #steven grant x fem!reader #steven grant x female reader #marc spector imagine #marc spector x reader #marc spector x fem!reader #marc spector x female reader #jake lockley imagine #jake lockley x reader #jake lockley x fem!reader #jake lockley x female reader #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x fem!reader #bucky barnes x female reader #starrywrites #starryevermore

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shrunkyclunksbang · 2 years

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Title: Birthplace of Steve Rogers

Posting: The week of July 31st

Author: bird @plutosrose [Twitter] [AO3]

Artist: elkleggs @elkleggs [Twitter] [AO3]

Rating: Explicit

Pairings: Captain America Steve Rogers/Modern Bucky Barnes

Tags/Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply, Museum Tour Guide Bucky, Pre-The Avengers (Movie), Dating a Celebrity, Coming Out, Mistaken Identity, Steve Rogers's name being used in vain by conservatives to justify homophobia

Summary:

When he comes out of the ice in 2011, Steve meets a museum tour guide working at his childhood home and realizes that he has a lot to learn about himself, relationships, and what it means to be in love.

Excerpt:

Steve furrowed his brow, and then, well, he had to laugh. “God, you have no idea how good it feels to have someone be that honest with me.”

Bucky, however, didn’t respond. Instead, he glanced in his direction just once as he licked his ice cream cone, and the look that he gave him made fire kick up his spine. Steve sucked in his breath and did his best to think of something un-sexy–in this case, the first thing that popped into his head was Sitwell explaining how to use a computer to him–and that did the trick for a moment.

“What?” Bucky asked, like he didn’t know what he was doing.

“My uh–apartment isn’t that far from here,” Steve said for no reason at all, rubbing a hand against the back of his neck in an effort to keep his heart from jumping straight into his throat.

Bucky grinned. “Is that so?”

Steve let out a breath. “No, it’s actually pretty far from here, I panicked.”

#shrunkyclunks #steve rogers/bucky barnes #stevebucky #stucky #steve/bucky #shrunkyclunks bang #2022 shrunkyclunks fun #2022 previews #SCBB-22 week 1

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fanfictionera · 1 year

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Just Us (BuckyBarnesxReader) Smut

A/N: The final part, very spicy and a fitting end to this little trilogy of writing. Thank You to everyone and anyone who has read any part of this, liked it or even reblogged. You guys are awesome. Enjoy!

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Fem!Reader

Synopsys: The time is right, it feels right and between the two of them they can decide what to do. After a lovely meal Bucky and Y/N make a decision that solidifies their feeling for one another.

Word Count: 2,279

Warnings: SMUT. SMUT. SMUT. Alcohol consumption and just smut.

Just Us

Y/N walked into the common area, changed into a comfy pair of shorts and one of Bucky's shirts. "What are you making, because it smells fantastic!" she said as she walked up behind Bucky wrapping her arms around his waist.

Bucky chuckled, "Welcome home and spaghetti, how was the rest of your day?"

"Meh, it was okay." Y/N pulled herself up onto an unused section of the counter, picking up a piece of paper that was laying there, "Mostly just boring paperwork and meetings that could have been an email. Where is everyone?"

"Got called out on a mission." Bucky replied as he walked over the fridge and pulled out some ground meat.

Y/N hummed in response as she looked over the paper, an old index card of sorts, with very neat and whimsical handwriting on it. She flipped it over to see initials scribbled in the corner. "Who's S.R?"

Bucky smiled, "Sarah Rogers." He stirred the contents of the pan making it sizzle louder.

"This is Sarah Rogers' spaghetti and meat sauce recipe?" Y/N's eyebrows shot up, "As in Steve's mom?"

Bucky shook his head, "Uh huh"

"I would have loved to meet her." Y/N started, “Honestly, I could not have been Steve’s mom, that's a level of motherhood reserved for literal saints.”

Bucky laughed as he turned the burner down before coming to stand in front of Y/N, "You remind me of her." He gently took the paper from her fingertips, to read the next step. "She was kind and thoughtful but beware the moment you crossed her.” He let out a short whistle, “She was a hell of a woman."

"Sounds like you had a crush on Steve’s mom." Y/N teased.

Bucky hit the tip of her nose with the paper, "She definitely had an influence on my type." She took the paper as he turned his attention back to the stove. “Steve got a box from the museum, all filled with random pictures and letters. There was also a recipe box tucked away in the bottom.”

“Does this mean you’ll be cooking more?” Y/N hopped off the counter.

Bucky started to add the noodles to the sauce, “Will that be a problem?” It came out as a teasing tone.

“Did I say it was?” Y/N grabbed some plates down and sat them on the counter, “I very much like the view.”

"Uh huh, well take these to the table and experience the view from over there." Bucky smirked as he handed her the plates.

Y/N brought them to the table as she heard the clinking of glasses behind her. Bucky placed a glass down before pouring out some wine.

He held the red liquid up, "To Sarah"

"To Sarah." Y/N replied before she took a sip of wine.

….

Two clean plates and an empty bottle of wine later Bucky held Y/N close as he swayed with the soft music playing. In one move he pulled and twirled Y/N who let out a giggle.

"Is this what you did to get all the ladies back then?" Y/N asked as they continued to dance.

Bucky shook his head with a chuckle "Yup, every single one of them."

"I knew it!" Y/N exclaimed, with a playful smile.

Bucky pressed against Y/N's back, pulling her towards him. He pulled her close, her cheek ghosted beside his chin, with one hand still around her waist his other danced over hers as it rested on his chest.

"Now this, I only do for the ladies I really like." Bucky's breath tickled her skin.

Slowly he guided her towards the kitchen island, letting his hands slide down to her thighs, lifting her up onto the counter.

Y/N's heart pounded in her chest as she glanced up and was instantly enraptured by his gaze. "How many do you really like?" Y/N's question a whisper.

"Just one." Their faces slowly drifted closer until their lips met, this time felt different. It was slow and intense. It was addictive. His hands came up to cradle her head as he deepened the kiss.

He pulled away, letting his head rest against her forehead, their breathing heavy as time seemed to stop. Waiting for the other to move.

“Come on,” Bucky leaned forward giving a gentle kiss before helping Y/N off the counter.

Y/N climbed up on the bed as Bucky closed the door. She took in the familiar comfort of Bucky’s room. Slowly Bucky walked up to Y/N, leaning down to look her in the eyes. "Right here, it's just us," Bucky leaned in as he brought his hand up to cradle the side of her face, "What do you want?"

The way he looked at her, like nothing else existed, that the world truly stopped at the walls of his room. She could feel the heat grow on her skin and her heart pounding in her ears as time seemed to stop. A nervous excitement bubbled through her body following the words rising up her throat, "You. I want you."

Y/N saw Bucky's pupils darken as he captured her lips. Y/N leaned into the kiss, instantly addicted to the energy. Slowly Bucky guided her back towards bed as his lips trailing across her jaw. She lulled her head to the side, giving him more room. Bucky turned them, so he could sit on the edge of the bed before pulling Y/N onto his lap. His hands slipped under her shirt, dragging across her skin, before he pulled the fabric up over her head.

His eyes instantly fell to the tops of her breasts and slowly he leaned in to kiss the soft plump skin not contained by her bra. Y/N's fingers danced up the back of his scalp at the sensation before she grasped onto the strands, pulling his head back to kiss on his neck. A breath of a moan left Bucky's lips.

He grasped his shirt pulling it off, making Y/N break contact for a moment, and obstructing his view. Once discarding his shirt his gaze fell back on Y/N, her eyes wide and excited, a small smile pulled at her lips.

She slid off his thighs and stood within arm’s reach, Bucky leaned back and watched as she slowly unclipped her bra. Y/N let the delicate fabric slide down her arms and to the floor before hooking her fingers into her waistband and giving her bottoms a tug. As her clothes hit the floor, leaving her completely bare, she took a breath before looking back up at Bucky propped up on his elbows drinking in the site in front of him.

He took in every curve and line that made up her body. It made his cock throb. Before he could do anything about it, Y/N came between his legs, she leaned over, her breasts ghosting over him. She ran her hands up his torso before dragging them back down, Bucky lifted his hips as she pulled his sweatpants and briefs down.

He groaned at her eagerness. He sat up and grabbed Y/N by the back of her head, pulling her into a heated kiss. He felt a shiver run through her body as she was maneuvered back onto his lap.

Her hips began to grind back and forth, rubbing herself up and down the length of the underside of his member, coating it in her slick. Pulling back, she rested her forehead against his. Their breathing heavy. Rising onto her knees, Bucky's cock sprung up, his head just at her entrance.

A pause, her hooded eyes met his. "You look drunk." A smile pulled at her lips.

"I am," He captured her lips in a slow dance, slowly Y/N sunk down, letting herself adjust to his girth. "Dear Go--I have never drank anything as strong as this--aghhh." He felt himself bottom out and had to fight the urge to take control.

Y/N let her head lazily fall to his shoulder, placing a kiss to his collarbone, "Don't move, not yet." She rolled her head to face his neck, "I feel so full."

"Let's compromise," She could feel his voice rumble as he spoke, "I'll go slow." His large hands palmed her hips and began to lift her up before sliding back in.

Y/N picked herself up off his shoulder in response and gently pushed him back onto the bed. Using his chest for leverage Y/N began to roll her hips.

"F-fuck," He let his fingers clench down on her thighs. Y/N slid her hands on top of his as she sat up. Letting herself sink further down, the new depth sending a wave of pleasure prickling over her skin. Bucky watched Y/N fall into a high like trance as she found her rhythm.

He could feel his adrenaline begin to release and his stomach twitched as she picked up the pace. Her hand slid off his, trailing it across her thigh, to her core.

Taking a mental picture of her before he all but snapped. Bucky's hands slid behind Y/N's thighs. He pulled her in, making her brace on his chest again before he began to rut up into her. A moan ripped from her throat.

Bucky picked her up completely before repositioning them both on the bed, Y/N arched up, her shoulders pressing into the mattress as he began to take over. He leaned back slightly and watched himself disappear inside her before moving his hips in a slow and steady rhythm. He kissed up her chest, letting his thumb and forefinger graze the underside of her breasts. Her eyes fluttered shut as she slipped her fingers into his hair.

His nose brushed the bottom of her chin before he kissed her again, "Tell me if it's too much,"

Y/N opened her eyes to meet his, she saw a flicker of anxious reassurance. "I will," She kissed him again, "Don't hold back."

He leaned down, supporting himself on his forearms, on either side of her head. With every thrust he began to pick her apart. He felt Y/N respond to him as she raked her nails over his thighs.

Bucky could feel her squeezing him, he reached down. Letting his hand splay and slide down her stomach until his thumb brushed across her throbbing core. Y/N let out a strangled moan as her hips shot up. Bucky could feel the hardened bundle of nerves glide against the pad of his thumb. With every swipe her walls fluttered.

He began rubbing in circles making her squirm under him while he set a hungry pace.

Y/N wasn't even going to attempt to contain the moans that fell from her mouth. She could feel a heat building inside her and with each thrust it grew brighter and warmer. A flash of white-hot energy surged through her body as a string of moans fell from her mouth.

He felt her clench down. A groan came from Bucky as he pushed the pace, fucking Y/N through her orgasm. With several more stuttering movements Bucky followed, pulling out and climaxing on her torso. He turned over, collapsing beside her. He glanced over to see Y/N’s eyes were glossed over as a tear fell from the corner of her eyes, disappearing into her hairline. Bucky faced her, “Are you okay?”

“Yeah,” Y/n shook her head as she met his gaze, “That felt amazing. It was an intense release I didn't know I needed.” A soft laugh followed her words as she wiped away the tears.

Bucky brought his hand up to caress her jaw as he kissed her temple, “Good. Is it alright if I go start the shower?”

“Mh-mm, I don't wanna move yet.” Y/N replied.

“Alright, I’ll be back for you in a minute.” Bucky kissed her again before getting up.

The hot shower continued the feeling of euphoria. As the water trickled down their skin they explored one another, tracing the others’ skin in abstract paths. As they climbed back in bed Bucky pulled Y/N closer, tucking her in beside him. “Goodnight.”

“Goodnight. Love you.” Y/N said as she began to drift off.

“Love you too.” Bucky followed Y/N into slumber.

-----

It was late in the morning when the rest of the team arrived back. Sam, Steve and Natasha looked exhausted as they walked into the common room.

"What's going on here?" Sam was the first to question.

They looked around to see the remnants of cooking scattered around, plates and forgotten wine still on the table. As they looked at one another, two voices danced their way down the hallway, pulling their attention.

Y/N walked in first, clearly wearing Bucky's shirt as it fell to barely cover her rear. She stopped dead in her tracks as she instantly saw the team.

Bucky ran into her, "What is-" His question answered as Sam started a slow clap. Steve and Nat joined in as they tried to keep from laughing.

Y/N's face instantly reddened as she tried to hide her smile against Bucky. "Omg, please tell me this is not happening."

Hoots and hollers carried on as they walked past them, Steve patted Bucky's shoulder as he walked by before Sam tried to give Bucky a high five that he did not reciprocate. "Rude man," Sam's laughter echoes down the hallway.

"Congrats," Nat said as she walked away, "Have fun kids!"

"If only we stayed in your room." Y/N shook her head.

"Eh," Bucky replied. "They would've found out anyway, breakfast?"

"Please." Y/N said before Bucky led her over to the space of the counter she was sitting on the night before.

He picked her up, helping her onto the counter, "Now you just sit there and enjoy the view."

-end-

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