Y’all This Is So Pretty, It’s Like A Dream Mood Board. I Want It On My Wall

I have been saving this since last year. Happy Earth Day everyone.

i snorting omg

seasons greetings 

so lemme get this straight. bucky asks steve if he's "keeping the outfit", and steve decides on the spot that yes!!, he is in fact keeping the outfit, as of right now. because bucky likes it. so then steve goes out of his way to have what is essentially a padded, more functional version of his stage costume specially made, and proceeds to sneak around enemy bases in his signature stars-and-stripes outfit, in lieu of a more sensible camo uniform - or, you know, anything that wouldn't make him stick out like a sore thumb amongst the greenery - all because bucky liked it. and then bucky goes and matches him with his own fashionable blue jacket, because they're just that married. am i forgetting something

fanfiction is so awesome. some of the most brilliant writers youve ever met are writing the most crazy porn youve ever seen. does that not move you

perfect- b. barnes

pairings: bucky barnes x reader, wanda maximoff, natasha romanoff, steve rogers, bruce banner, sam wilson, etc. avengers except for thor because tbh i forgot him warnings: about: request! PF20 (too long hugs) + PF28 (person a lifting person b up out of excitement) + DF2 (“will you marry me?“) ! where in bucky and reader come from their anniversary dinner, and bucky brings her back to the avengers compound to relax and all. but little does reader know all the avengers are outside preparing the decoration and the garden for bucky to propose to her. then bucky proposes to her then all the avengers go out and congratulate them!

“y’know,” bucky starts, the rough of his voice softened as it always is with you, fond. he’s warm by all its definitions, heating you with his tender gaze as it falls along your features, fingers interlocked with yours, their tips rubbing sweet shapes into the dimples of your skin. “my ma woulda loved you. becca too.”

wobbly lips lift at their edges, your eyes glittering as they meet his profile. “you really think so?”

bucky nods definitively, a faint pull of his lips crinkling his eyes. “no question. becca would call you her sister and mean it by now.”

the little black box in his pocket with its fake velvet pricked and tattered with his anxious fingernails weighs heavier with the reminder of his family. he glances at your interlaced fingers, nearly able to see the ring his mother always wore--the one his father had saved up for for so long--on your own.

he feels the prickle of excitement in his chest at the prospect of his ring on your finger, suddenly unable to keep imagining and more desperate than ever for it to be real, for his thumb to run along your ring finger and bump into the ridges of the band. 

he squeezes your hand in his before he takes his fingers away, trailing them up, up, up until they loop around your wrist, pulling your hand to his chest.

“i planned one more thing for you,” he tells you, furtively sneaking a glimpse at his watch to catch the time. everything should be nearly ready by now, and his excitement tinges with nerves.

your features soften, bouncing on your heels at the revelation. “bucky,” you coo tenderly, pulling his hand along as you raise it to his chin. “this is too much. you know you’re all i need.”

he drops his lips to the back of your hand, dragging them along until they press a kiss to the side of your index. “you’re gonna love it, i promise.”

“i know i will, that’s not a doubt for me,” you reply, words melting away as you observe his face. “i love you.”

he’s never been more certain in anything as he tells you the words back, unable to help himself when he tugs you to him, lips finally meeting. you taste like honey and home, and suddenly bucky can’t wait anymore, pulling away even as every one of his cells begs him to continue kissing you forever. he nudges his nose against yours. “c’mon, i want to see your face when you see it,” he urges gently.

“‘kay,” you agree, letting him pull you along. “is this the surprise that natasha wouldn’t tell me about?”

“maybe.” his reply carries a lilt, hand squeezing yours.

“ooh, then it must be good. she had the little smile she has when it’s a nice surprise.” you shimmy your shoulders in excitement, urging him to move faster. “where are we going?”

“the compound,” bucky responds, jutting his chin in its direction. “figured you’d be tired after being pampered for so long. maybe we watch a movie and you fall asleep on my shoulder after i make you some cookies.”

you stop in your tracks and he stumbles into you, placing his hands on your arms. “bucky, you are incredible. just… fuck.” you stare at him for a moment, eyes wide, before your hands unravel from his grip, rising fast until they’re hot against his cheekbones, pulling his lips to his.

bucky hums against your lips in surprise, fingers twining down to vine around your hips.

“good idea then?” he murmurs against your lips, breathless with your intensity.

“can’t believe you’re mine idea,” you grin, pecking his lips one, two, three times. “let’s go,” you take his hand again, pressing a kiss to the back of it. “i wanna see your surprise, baby.”

he wants to drop to his knee right here and now and beg you to marry him, but you pull at his arm with a pretty pout, reminding him that you deserve perfect, and the closest thing to it waits in his surprise. 

it’s unusually quiet when bucky pushes the doors to the compound open to introduce the dark room, the general buzz of the avengers gone. you pause, sticking your head in to observe the darkness you only see when it’s really late. a glance at bucky’s watch tells you it’s not late enough. you pucker your lips in thought, turning to bucky.

“you got everyone out for the surprise?” you ask, the sight of his teeth digging into his bottom lip enough of an answer. “buck.” you say it long and breathy, disbelieving.

“only the best for my girl.” he winks, guiding you out of the doorway and toward the back. he doesn’t bother to turn on the light, and the gleam of the moon catches on the blue of his irises.

he’s nervous now. glittery static prickling his fingertips, climbing up until it reaches his cheekbones as he covertly glances out the window, catching the glimmer of fairy lights and a blink of a green eye, crinkled as it catches his. it disappears as soon as he sees it with a wink. he lets out a shaky breath, clearing his throat to steady it before he speaks. he slows when he reaches the doors to the garden, velvet curtains cloaking what is supposed to be the perfect setting of the most terrifying night of his life.

vibranium curls around the handle and his pulse quickens under your index.

“hey,” you call, squeezing his hand. “you okay?”

“yeah,” he assures, giving you a meaningful glance before turning the knob.

it’s beautiful as he pushes open the door, breath caught in his throat because it’s even better than he expected. but it’s natasha and wanda and sam and everyone who loves you, and he knows he shouldn’t be surprised. they love you almost as much as he does.

almost.

“oh my god,” you whisper from behind him, gazing at the garden in wonder, petal lips parted, arms limp at your sides. “it’s…” fingertips graze the yellow petals of tulips, gentle against white roses and speckled lilies. the twinkling lights reflect in your eyes. you let out a breath as a conclusion to your statement. “all this for me?”

“i told you,” bucky starts, meeting the vision you are; warm cheeks, grinning eyes, glossed lips pulled into the prettiest smile he’s ever seen. he remembers it from the first date he ever took you on--the brightest thing in the shitty forties themed diner you insisted on going to, caught around a striped straw inside a strawberry milkshake--in your room after the mission that left him in the medbay for a couple nights--vignetted with relief. “only the best for my girl.”

nose burning, eyes filling, you exhale something like a scoff, affectionate. sparkling eyes stare up at him, blinking fast.

“that is ridiculous,” you mutter, words tinged in incredulity and nectar. a tear streaks down your face, but your features are soft, kind.

bucky frowns. “what’s wrong?”

“i have never felt as loved as i do with you.” it’s light as you confess, true and sweet. “you make me feel so loved.”

bucky searches you, thumbs swiping away the tears that bubble down your cheeks. “that’s all i want. why are you crying, sweetheart?”

you sniffle, watery eyes desperate as they pull him in. “marry me, bucky.”

bucky freezes, caught in silence for a moment before his shoulders drop, the weight of the stress gone. “honey, you’ve gotta be kidding me.”

“what?” it’s dipped in confusion, fearful when he begins to chuckle.

he digs into his pockets, pulling the box out, dropping to a knee like he had been yearning to.

you gasp, lips behind your fingers. there’s rustling that neither of you notice.

“‘had this all planned out,” he starts, laughing tearfully. he pops open the little velvet box. “will you marry me?”

“i asked first,” you hiccup, but you’re dropping to his height too.

“yeah, i’ll marry you, doll. ‘f course i will.”

“me too,” you cry, falling into his arms, the ring forgotten as you kiss his face repeatedly. his arms wrap around you and don’t let go, squeezing you tightly. your arms loop around his neck, hanging on as he rises, lifting you up with him.

“ring,” he remembers, still aching to see it on your finger. he begrudgingly puts you back down on the ground, fumbling with the box to pull it out. your fingers are trembling as you hand them to him, breath getting caught in your throat when he slides it on.

“it’s your mom’s,” you notice, eyeing the deep color of the stone, the small steel hands holding it in place, molding into what looks like flower vines with smaller stones until they’re the other hand. “but it’s different.”

“i wanted it to be perfect for you,” bucky explains, tinted with anxiety. “you like it?”

“it’s perfect,” you confirm, a hand rising to his jaw so you can kiss him again. “everything is perfect.”

excited din finally escapes from the green and the avengers follow, stepping out from behind trees and vines that crawled up to cover them. 

you gasp when you see them, rushing to meet your friends. bucky’s arm stays around your waist, he’s beaming, a grin splitting his face.

tony is out first, his face bright as he envelops you in a hug, whispering his congratulations into your hair. he settles bucky with a tentative smile and a firm nod. “i’m glad it was you, barnes.”

“me too,” bucky tells him.

bruce wraps you tightly in his embrace, before coming up to bucky. “the big guy and i know she can protect herself just fine, but…” he nudges his glasses up his nose. “i’m sure you know what i mean.”

clint drapes an arm around bucky and squeezes. “finally, huh?” he teases. “knew she’d ask you first, though. steve owes me twenty dollars.” you laugh, finding your way back into bucky’s chest again, nestled under his arm.

“you have no idea how hard it was to stay quiet,” wanda exclaims, grabbing your hands.

“i had to cover her mouth with my hand,” natasha adds.

“shut up, you were bouncing on your feet when she asked him to marry her,” wanda argues.

“oh, man, i can’t believe she beat you to it,” sam grins, clapping bucky on the back.

“me neither,” steve groans. “you cost me twenty bucks, punk.”

“sorry,” bucky says offhandedly, but he’s barely paying attention to their words, his focus unmoving on you.

you’re chatting happily with your friends, waving your hands as you speak, smile threatening to overtake your face.

it’s even better than he thought, the sight of his ring on your finger.

that’s hot

“What, are you here for some private lessons?”

(insert obligatory flexibility pun)

I am kindly asking for Bucky Barnes to rail me. Any version. Every version.

me rn😭🤭🤭

Touch || Bucky Barnes x Reader

Summary: Bucky was not a fan of physical contact, that was something you knew about him even before you started dating him. What you didn't know was how incredibly touch starved he was. That is until one lazy Sunday afternoon, when you take your relationship to the next level.

Word count: 4300

Warnings: SMUT MINORS DNI, porn with feelings, dry humping, overstimulation, kinda sub!bucky x gentle dom!reader, touch starved bucky, a little angst (it’s bucky duh), fluff

English is not my first language

Notes: This is a continuation of THIS little thing that I posted the other day, but you don't have to read it to understand the story.

Bucky was not someone who enjoyed a lot of physical contact, that was a fact about him that you found out pretty quickly. You just had to see the way he interacted with his friends and the people around him to notice that he didn't really like to be touched, especially by strangers. You'd seen him jump and flinch at the slightest brush of someone's body making their way through the busiest nights at the bar, so you kept that in mind when you had your first date. It didn't really matter to you that he didn't even hold your hand or kiss you at the end of the date, you had such a good time with him that you didn't even think about it. 

Besides, that only made things more interesting. Not knowing when he was going to kiss you —or if he was even going to kiss you at all— kept you on your toes, butterflies fluttering in your stomach every time you looked into each other's eyes. The tension only increased with each date and all that build up made your first kiss magical. There were no words to describe how you felt the moment his lips finally met yours. It was a shy, experimental kiss, your lips brushing delicately as you explored this new feeling. Bucky rested his hand on your cheek to draw you closer to him, the touch of his fingers awakening a tingle on your skin. It was almost hard to believe that someone as big and strong as him was capable of such gentleness, but that was what made the moment so special.

There was definitely a spark between you, a connection you had never felt with anyone before. So you didn't care that it had taken Bucky longer than usual to kiss you, you were willing to wait as long as it took to feel that electricity that only he seemed to be able to awaken coursing through your body. Bucky made it all worth it.

You usually let him initiate the physical contact. You didn't want to end up accidentally stepping over his boundaries, so beyond a few kisses and hugs you used to let him decide when he wanted to hold your hand or cuddle up on the couch to watch a movie. You didn't mind the lack of physical contact, it didn't affect your relationship in the slightest. It wasn't like that was the only way to show affection. You didn't have to doubt if Bucky really loved you or if your relationship had a future because he always found other ways to show you how he felt about you. 

He may not be very good at expressing his feelings in a physical way, but he had a special talent for expressing in words and beautiful metaphors the love he felt for you, confessions that were immortalized in the love letters he often sent you. The nature of his work required him to spend weeks and sometimes even months away from you, and he would take advantage of those moments alone to reflect on his feelings and pour them out on paper, expressing in neat handwriting the thoughts that were running through his head. You still talked on the phone and texted each other all the time, but there was something so intimate and personal about handwritten love letters that he refused to let them die, forgotten in the past.

Bucky also expressed his love through acts of service, dropping everything he was doing to come to your aid whenever you were in the slightest inconvenience. And he also loved sharing quality time with you, whether it was planning a romantic evening or just staying by your side while the two of you did nothing on a lazy Sunday afternoon. Those were all acts that undoubtedly proved to you that Bucky loved you, so you really didn't mind the lack of physical displays of affection. The love you shared was much purer and more intense than any of your past relationships, so who cared if you weren't holding hands all the time when your chest exploded with love every time you saw him.

You learned very quickly that Bucky Barnes had a different love language than most of the other people you had dated, and you were more than okay with it. You never asked him about it because you honestly didn't think there was a reason behind it. People love in different ways, some are more vocal and physical about it and some are more quiet and reserved, but that doesn't mean they are any more or less valid. All different ways of showing love are valid and you always assumed that Bucky was naturally a person who didn't enjoy excessive physical contact because of the way he sometimes flinched and squirmed when your hands caressed his skin for too long. But your perspective on Bucky's loving ways changed one Sunday afternoon. 

You were lying on the couch watching a movie in your apartment. You were comfortably settled on the right end, your arm resting on the armrest and your legs stretched out on the coffee table. You had a pillow in your lap and on it rested Bucky's head, who was lying on his side so he could get a good view of the TV. The sunset light coming through the window illuminated his face in a special way, highlighting every detail you loved about him. The movie faded into the background as you lost yourself in the adorable image of your boyfriend resting on your lap. He looked so peaceful that if it weren't for the soft giggles he let out from time to time you would think he was asleep. It was rare to see him like that, with his features so relaxed, and you loved him. 

Bucky's long chestnut hair rested messily on the cushion. A stray strand fell over his face, hiding part of his beautiful features from your eyes. Without realizing what you were doing you reached your hand out to brush it away, tucking the rebellious strand of hair behind his ear so you could admire him better. Bucky closed his eyes for a moment when your fingertips brushed the skin on his temple, but said nothing. So you let your hand wander through his hair a little longer while you lost yourself in his beauty and the love you felt for him. Your fingers stroked his hair gently, your nails lightly scraping his scalp.

Bucky closed his eyes again, only this time he didn't realize he had done so. His body stopped responding to his brain's commands, momentarily losing himself in your gentle touches. He was instantly overwhelmed by the delicate movement of your fingers. It had been so long since he had last been in such an intimate situation that his body did not know how to react. His brain stopped working every time you touched him and this was no exception. When you pulled a strand of his hair with a little more force than usual —accidentally or not, he didn't know—, Bucky let out a pathetic whimper, electricity coursing through his body and awakening a flame inside him that he thought had been extinguished.

But then he came back to his senses. His brain regained control over his body and forced him to jump up and away from you before something went wrong. 

"Bucky, I'm sorry I didn't mean to..." you rushed to apologize, fearing you had crossed his boundaries regarding physical contact without realizing it. You should have been more careful, you should have asked him if it didn't bother him before touching him. 

It broke Bucky's heart to see the guilt and fear in your eyes, especially knowing that it was all his fault and not yours. You were nothing but loving and patient with him, never pressuring him for anything and creating a safe space where he could relax and let loose without fear. "No, no, it's okay," he tried to reassure you. "It's not you, it's me. I'm the problem, doll."

"No, Bucky, don't say that," you said, moving closer to him. You reached out to touch him, there was nothing you wanted to do more than hold his hand and kiss him until his sad expression changed. But at the last second you realized that wouldn't be a good idea so you dropped it in your lap once more.

"But it's true," he insisted. "You did nothing wrong, it's just that... it's hard for me. I haven't been this close, this intimate, with anyone in a long time and it's kinda overwhelming," he revealed, surprising you. In all this time it never occurred to you that this could be the reason for his problem with physical contact.

"It's okay, Buck. We don't have to do anything if you don't want to. I'm more than fine with the way things are right now between us."

"But that's the thing," he sighed, adjusting his posture so he could look you in the eyes. "I like it when you touch me, when you kiss me and you hold me while we watch a movie. It makes me feel good... it makes me feel loved. But then I get overwhelmed and I- I don't know, I just can't do it," he muttered in frustration, not quite sure how to explain to you that he had spent the last few months of his life trying to train his brain to stop associating physical contact with the horrors he had experienced with Hydra. 

"We don't have to do anything you're not comfortable with," you spoke in a soft tone. "I'm happy with our relationship the way it is right now. I love you, Bucky, and I would never pressure you into anything."

"I know, doll. You've been nothing but kind and understanding. I just wish I could give you more."

"We can take things slow. There's no need to rush into anything, baby." you said, moving a little closer to him until your leg brushed his. "I can still hold you and kiss you and touch you... you don't have to run from me, Bucky. We can take our time to test your boundaries and get you used to intimacy again, if you want that, of course."

Bucky would be lying if he said your words didn't sound tempting. There was nothing he loved more than feeling your hands on his body, the taste of your lips on his mouth and the warmth of your skin against his. He avoided physical contact not because he didn't like it but because he enjoyed it too much and his brain was not yet ready to process what your touch made him feel. He was easily overwhelmed by your touch, every little brush of your fingers awakened a tingle inside him and a flame deep in his stomach. He would lose the ability to think coherently when you held him and sometimes he could feel tears forming in his eyes when you held his hand as you walked down the street. The idea of someone loving him without fear or regret was something that filled his chest with joy and frightened him in equal proportions. A part of him still had trouble understanding that someone was capable of loving him like that.

"Do you trust me?" you asked as you read the doubt in his eyes. Bucky nodded, shaking his head slightly without a second thought. "I need you to use your words, baby."

"Yes, doll, I trust you" he assured you firmly, putting a warm smile on your lips.

"Can I kiss you?" you murmured, your voice barely a whisper.

"Please," Bucky begged and that was all the confirmation you needed to take his face in your hands and press your lips together. 

It was a slow kiss, your lips gently caressing his in an attempt to calm his nerves. You felt him relax under your touch, surrendering to the warm tingle that ran through his body each time you kissed him. He let you guide him, his body responding to your movements without protest. When he felt your tongue caress his lips he parted them, granting you permission to attack his mouth. 

Everything became a blur after that. He could feel your lips on his, your hands caressing his skin, the warmth of your body enveloping him completely, but it was too much for his poor brain to process. He was limited to feel, to move and act following his most primitive instincts while the flame inside him only grew.

"Is this okay?" you asked him, pulling away from his lips to speak. Only then did Bucky realize that you were now sitting on his lap, trapping his body between your legs.

"Yes," he managed to say between ragged breaths. But you didn't give him much of a break, attacking his lips once more before trailing your kisses down his jaw to his neck.

Bucky closed his eyes instinctively, losing himself in the tingling that the brush of your lips on his skin awakened inside him. His hands traveled to your hips, his fingers clinging to you as a way to keep himself grounded. It was pathetic, utterly ridiculous, that a man his age would melt at the slightest touch of your lips on his body, but he couldn't help it. It had been so long since he had last experienced such intimacy with someone that it was like it was his first time all over again. And in a way it was. The old innocent and confident Bucky had died that cold day falling off that train and for over 70 years he had been forced to live as something else, an entity with no voice or conscience damned to obey orders. He had been changed by that experience and when he was freed from his chains a completely different man from the one he used to be emerged. A man who had to adapt to a different world than the one he was used to and who had to train his brain to stop responding to old patterns. So in a way it was like being born again, at least that's how he had felt the day the trigger words stopped working on him. And that's how he felt with you sitting on his lap, your lips sucking on his neck while your hands explored his body.

Bucky felt like he was in heaven, flying through the clouds as a euphoric feeling filled his insides. He hadn't really realized how much he missed that kind of intimacy until that moment. He was desperate to feel more of you, reduced to a whimpering, moaning mess every time your lips brushed his soft spots or when your hands disappeared into his hair, delicately tugging at the chestnut strands. He let out the most pathetic whimper as your core made contact with his growing erection, your hips rolling sensually as you gently nibbled the skin of his neck. He tightened his grip on your waist, to stop you or to pull you closer to him, he wasn't sure.

The sounds that escaped his lips were like music to your ears, a sweet melody that coursed through your body and made your core throb. It had not been your intention to rub against him in that way, it was a subconscious act of your body, desperate to find some relief from the pressure that was forming in the pit of your stomach. But now that you had done it and Bucky seemed to respond positively to it, you continued to do it, finding a slow, sensual rhythm that would bring you both to the edge of pleasure.

You two were fully clothed, yet there was something so erotic about what you were doing. To have a man like Bucky, so tall, serious and imposing, turned into a moaning, panting mess beneath you ignited a flame in you, a sensation you had never experienced before. You could feel your wetness staining your underwear as you admired the pleasure in Bucky's expression-his eyes closed, eyebrows slightly furrowed and parted lips letting out an endless stream of whimpers. But there was also something in the way he seemed to be giving himself completely to you that filled your heart with joy. He trusted you for this. He trusted you to take care of him. He trusted the safe environment you had created for him. He knew he could let his guard down when he was with you, allow himself to experience that kind of closeness, that kind of intimacy, without fear of rejection or embarrassment. He loved you and that was the most important thing of all. 

"Wait!" Bucky suddenly exclaimed between shaky breaths. He tightened his grip on your hips, but this time it was to stop you before it was too late. "I- I don't think I can..." he trailed off, unsure of how to finish the sentence. He didn't want to disappoint you, but he also didn't want to admit out loud that he's had trouble bringing himself to orgasm. It's not like he didn't want to, he was desperate to feel that sweet relief, but he just couldn't. He tried to pleasure himself several times in the past and generally everything went well until his climax started to approach, then the pleasure became too much. His mind is unable to relax, to let go of the sensations, and it all ended abruptly, leaving him tense and frustrated —even more so than usual.

"It's okay, baby. I'm here for you," you said in a soft, sensual voice, your fingers delicately stroking his hair. "Let me help you." You didn't move until you had confirmation that this was what he wanted, leaving it up to him to decide how to proceed. When he nodded his head slightly you gave him a quick kiss on the lips before continuing your movements.

"That's it, baby. Let go for me," you purred against his ear as Bucky began to move beneath you, thrusting his hips upward to match you. 

You quickly found a rhythm that worked for both of you, each little brush of your bodies pushing you ever closer to the edge. Bucky's moans were almost uncontrollable as he held you close to his body, his hands never leaving your hips, pressing you against his bulge. It was too much, the heat coursing through his body, the pressure building in his stomach, the racing of his heart... he felt like he was going to explode. And yet, he didn't want the moment to end. He was desperate for relief, but at the same time he would live forever in that moment if he could. Nothing compared to the feeling of having you so close to him, moaning his name as you held him.

“You like that, baby?” you asked after Bucky let out a particularly loud whine. “You like it when I bite your neck?”

“Yes! Yes, f-fuck… please,” he muttered incoherently. He didn't even know why he was begging, the plea escaping his lips before he could stop himself.

“Does it feel good? Yeah?”

“So good, doll… so fucking good.” Bucky was struggling to respond in coherent sentences, his pleasure-clouded brain too distracted to function properly. “You’re so good to me, doll…so, so g-good. Please don’t stop.”

“I won’t, baby. I won’t." You reassured him between ragged breaths. You increased the pace, seeking your relief as much as his. With one hand you held onto Bucky's shoulder for support while your other hand traveled to his cheek. Your fingers tenderly stroked the soft skin of his face, a delicate action that contrasted with the desperation of the movements of your hips. Bucky accepted the touch gladly, leaning into your hand as he felt the world around him collapse.

"God, you're so pretty like this, all needy and desperate for my touch… my pretty boy." The words left your lips before you realized it. You didn't even know where they had come from, it was the first time you had uttered something like that in such an intimate moment. But it felt natural and Bucky seemed to like it judging by the way his member twitched in his pants. He let out a whimper that sounded almost like a cry and you knew then that he wouldn't last much longer. "Are you close, baby? You gonna cum for me?"

"Yes! Oh god, yes! Please, I'm so close… don't stop… feels so good… please." Bucky was on the verge of tears, the pleasure overwhelming him completely. He felt like he was on fire, his whole body tensing with anticipation. It was too much and yet too little. He wanted to stop, but at the same time he would cry if you took the heat from your center away from him. His brain was fried, pleasure clouding his thoughts completely.

"That's it, baby, cum for me. I wanna feel you coming undone underneath me. I wanna see your pretty face screw up in pleasure when you cum. C'mon baby, let go for me." You encouraged him, lowering your lips to his neck to kiss and nibble on his soft spots. You were close to your orgasm too, your clitoris throbbing desperately and your core clenching around nothing with every thrust of your hips. Your underwear was completely ruined, soaked with the wetness of your arousal. You were pretty sure Bucky could feel it through his thin sweatpants that sported a dark stain where your bodies met, your arousal and Bucky's mingling in the light gray fabric. But even though you were desperate for some relief you were holding back. This was supposed to be about Bucky and you wanted him to cum first.

"Oh f-fuck, I-" he tried to warn you, but his sentence was cut off by the overwhelming force of his orgasm. The knot in his stomach snapped, triggering an electric rush that coursed through his body from head to toe. He pressed your hot center against his erection, holding you in place as rope after rope of cum stained his underwear.

"That's it baby… so good to me, such a good boy," You murmured against his ear as you moved your hips slowly, riding him through his orgasm as you chased yours. He was a mess beneath you, his whole body convulsing from overstimulation. Yet his member was still hard between your legs, throbbing with desperation as if Bucky hadn't just had one of the best orgasms of his life.

"It's… it's too much, f-fuck, I-I can't." Bucky tried to speak, struggling to catch his breath and recover his cognitive abilities. He had never experienced anything similar before. He was still flying high from his first orgasm and could already feel a second forming in the pit of his stomach. He was painfully hard and overstimulated, his cock still dripping cum adding to the sticky mess that was in his boxers. He couldn't stop. He didn't want to stop. He wondered if his current condition had anything to do with the years he had gone without any kind of sexual activity, or if it was simply the effect you had on him. He guessed it was a little of both.

"Are you gonna cum for me again?" you asked him between moans, feeling the knot in your stomach tighten with each brush of your clothed core over his bulge. "Fuck, that's so hot, baby. Cum with me, please. I'm so close, baby. I want to feel you cum with me, please." You begged him, your voice broken with pleasure. You gave him a quick, sloppy kiss, all teeth and tongue as you chased your orgasm. When you broke away you rested your forehead on Bucky's, looking into his eyes as the world around you collapsed, wave after wave of pleasure coursing through your body as your orgasm overwhelmed your senses.

Seeing your face screwed up in pleasure pushed Bucky over the edge again, his second orgasm leaving him completely ruined and unable to move underneath you. His cock throbbed between his legs as he released rope after rope of cum, creating a bigger mess of sticky fluid in his pants. He had never cum so hard or so intensely before, but he'd be lying if he said that wasn't exactly what he needed. 

You collapsed onto Bucky's chest, hiding your face in his neck as you both struggled to catch your breath. You stayed in that position for a few minutes, the sound of the movie playing in the background the only thing you could hear in the room besides your accelerated breathing.

"How do you feel?" you mumbled against the skin of his neck, curious to know if the experience had been as wonderful for him as it had been for you.

"Great. I feel great," he replied, struggling to form a coherent sentence. "That was..." he trailed off, unsure of how to describe what he felt.

"I know," you assured him with a chuckle, placing a sweet kiss on the skin of his neck. Bucky smiled, wrapping his arms around your body to draw you closer to him. He used his flesh hand to caress your back, tracing imaginary shapes with his fingers as he enjoyed the way the warmth of your body enveloped him.

"How do you feel?" he wanted to know.

"Awesome," you smiled. " Although I need a shower," you added, moving to get up from your spot. But before you could pull away, Bucky tightened his grip on you, trapping you between his chest and arms.

"Later," he said. "I want to stay like this for a little while longer." You smiled, settling into his arms as you inhaled the scent of his cologne. Bucky really was the man of your dreams and you would forever be grateful to fate for having crossed your path.

“I love you,” you told him as you traced imaginary figures on his chest with your fingers, losing yourself in the warmth of his body.

“I love you too, doll.”

literally every day i say to myself “wow i’m having a really bad one today” like girl i think this is just your life.

A New Uniform

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Summary: Bucky is in need of new mission attire. You help him get all the details of his new suit, and the two of you relish in the new look of Bucky Barnes.

Warnings: fluff. Pet name (sweetheart). Working on the details ppl, it’s a process. Shy Bucky

A/N: Howdy! Flabbergasted by the response on my last post *gasp* Also did not expect almost 100 followers within my first two months on this app. #feelinggrateful

“What’s going on in that handsome head of yours?”

Bucky glanced up at you with a smirk which he was most definitely trying to hide. His hand brushed through his fluffy short brown hair as he sat back in his chair.

“Steve says I need a mission suit. Something less, winter soldier-ish, I guess.”

He was clearly flustered. There were lots of scribbles on his legal pad. Some words and a few sketches, a few pens snapped in half from Bucky’s strong grip were thrown off to the side next to his cup of black coffee.

You sighed and lightly placed your hand on his shoulder, rubbing your thumb soothingly in circles as your head rested on his opposite shoulder. Leaning his head on yours, Bucky muttered a quick, “I don’t know,” before tossing his pen on the notepad.

“What do you want in a suit?”

Bucky took a moment to compose his thoughts. “Something comfortable, maybe a suit that doesn’t restrict,” he motioned to his arm, “ya know that, and oh,” his expression brightened as he said, “pockets! Lots of pockets.”

“Okay fair points,” you lightly chuckled as you sat on his lap looking between him and the notepad. Bucky’s hand came to rest around your waist while his head rested on your arm.

“Let’s start at material,” you said assuringly, taking the pen from the notepad and scribbling the word material in a blank space.

“I usually wear black,” Bucky muttered.

“You said you wanted something less from your past right? What other colors do you like?”

“My ma always said blue looked good on me. She said it matches my eyes,” Bucky’s eyes stared off into nothing as he remembered his mother. Your touch finally broke his train of thought while you ran your hand lightly up and down his arm.

“What about navy hm? It’s a nice transition from the all black. I agree with your mom, but I just really love your eyes.”

“Thanks, sweetheart,” he murmured completely blushing. “I like navy.” He was in awe of your thinking. It was a silly superhero suit, but it was more than that to him. It was a step in a new direction and for you to want to help him and care about it, that was everything to Bucky.

“Okay and you want comfort, no left sleeve, and pockets,” you mumbled while scribbling down all that you said.

“Lots of pockets,” Bucky added in a playful tone.

“Lots of pockets,” you teased back with a giggle, turning to him with a smile.

———

It was two weeks later and Bucky was anxious up until now when he got his suit from whoever makes all the Avengers suits. It was packaged in a nice box, addressed politely to Sargent James Buchanan Barnes.

You sat excitedly waiting for Bucky to walk out into the living room. The rest of the team was out on missions, so it was just you and Bucky to take in his new look.

Finally, he stepped out, first, you saw his boots which were his usual black boots that he had worn for forever. Then his pants which were new black leather, they were sleek with small red detailing just below his hips.

The real pièce de résistance of it all was the shirt, a nice navy leather covered his chest with one black strap placed across his chest, the same red from the pants making little appearances on the apparel. His waist was perfectly fitted to the leather, slim but oh so sexy.

He looked nervous as he stepped out, clearly worried about your opinion. Taking a few more steps, he stood showing off his new look. Confidence was spread all across his face the second he saw your expression.

“You look so handsome Buck,” you said in awe of your boyfriend.

“Comfortable?” You asked, standing up from your chair.

“Very,” Bucky replied looking down and taking in his look once more. “Look,” he said all excited taking your hand and pulling you towards him.

“Pockets,” he whispered like a kid telling you a secret. He turned a few times to show the pockets laid out around his suit. The two of you laughed and giggled as you took in every little detail of the suit, ooing and aweing at certain features that were minuscule to the average person but important to Avengers.

There were lots of great things about this moment but the best feeling was seeing Bucky not as the winter soldier, but much more than his previous title. He would tell you often of how sometimes when he looks in the mirror, he still sees the winter soldier. He pictures himself with the long greasy hair and the scowl, as if that part of him is coinciding with him always.

“So, do I look like a superhero?”

“Yes, but also,” you came around to look in the mirror with him. Your hands placed at each side of his arms, with the two of you just taking in his look.

“You look like Bucky. Just Bucky.”

Bucky was no one else but himself, and for the first time in a long time, he agreed with you.