So I Need This. Like Yesterday.

I love how the world perceives tumblr as useless platform. No world news here. No algorithm. No verified accounts. Ads are about Pikachu cosplayer and shoelaces. Folks that's exactly how social media should be

way overdue edit: OP too has learned everything regarding international politics through crabs and that meme but doesn't dare to consider these paranormal/parasocial occurrences as mere news. It's a moment, it's a bliss, it's the nightmare of future generations' history textbooks, you had to be there

I never wanted it to end but this was sooooo good

6 • Operation: No More Operations | OPERATION: FAKING IT ...?

6 • Operation: No More Operations | OPERATION: FAKING IT …?

Description: Your suspension is spent collecting on your IOU's from Tony, a trip to Wakanda & Whale Watching then some happily ever after for a man who deserves the world.

Pairing: Beefy Bucky Barnes x Female Avenger Reader

Word Count: 7.5K

Warnings: NSFW, 18+, Cute Bucky, Fluffy Bucky, Bucky with children, swearing, all the smut, p in v, unprotected, oral sex (M + F), public sex, Daddy kink, mentions of choking, unprotected sex.

A/N: I can only apologise how long this has taken to get finished, I have been super busy for the last few weeks! Sad to say goodbye to these two.

Series Masterlist

[Previous Chapter]

‘Burtie stop it, no! Leave little Stevie alone’

You had been in Wakanda for three days & your pup was obsessed with playing with Bucky’s adopted goats, he had been so nervous that they wouldn’t remember him, he spent the entire flight anxiously pacing the Quinjet until you decided to distract him by crouching between his legs & pulling out his cock, it didn’t take long for him to get hard & with a single kiss on the tip he was ready to go. ‘Fuck sweetheart, don’t stop’ he wound your hair around his metal fist & guided you back & forth on his length, you couldn’t help slipping your hand between your legs, moaning as your finger brushed past your swollen clit to plunge a digit into your wet hole, the sinful noise he made as your whimpers vibrated on his cock & his utterings of ‘Yes Bambi, touch your pussy.’ ‘Such a good girl, taking me so well’ ‘Do that thing I like, fuucck, you’re so good with your mouth.’ spurred you on to add another finger into your soaking cunt.

You hadn’t ever enjoyed giving head in previous relationships, but with Bucky it was possibly one of your favourite things to do, to see this big bulky Super Soldier crumble before you & inflict such levels of pleasure that it somehow felt like you were receiving it all made sense as to why he loved eating you out every chance he got. 

Climaxing whilst not biting Bucky’s cock was a skill you had mastered quickly, as always encouraged by the filth that tumbled out of his mouth ‘you gonna cum on your fingers, that pussy is begging for me to fill it, you’re going to be dripping with my cum meeting a king darlin, everyone will know you’re mine.’ You spasmed around your digits in utter bliss, your eyes rolling back as the roaring pleasure took over & once your glistening fingers were pushed between Bucky’s lips he was a gonner, tasting your sweet nectar pushed him over the edge shooting his cum into the back of your throat, holding you until he had completely emptied himself into your mouth, you held out your cum-free tongue to show him you had swallowed it all, it had become a habit & his praises of ‘that’s my good girl’ & ‘lick every last drop honey’ ramped up your need for his cock to be buried in you. 

There were many times you cursed the super soldier serum, mainly because of his super hearing & the fact he could hear you fall over & rush to help whatever ailment had resulted then try not to laugh at how you tripped, or the conversations you would have with Burtie early in the mornings about how much you loved him & his dad. But you loved that serum when, mere moments after he had climaxed, he watched as you licked your lips of any remaining evidence he had been in your mouth & he was ready for you again. Not even waiting a second for you to catch your breath before swiftly lifting you up onto his lap, pushing your knickers aside & impaling you on his rock hard length.

You wouldn’t ever get use to his size, each time, even soaking wet the stretch felt like nothing else, ‘dripping for me darlin’ you nodded your head completely fucked out as you took him all the way, ‘Wanna be buried in you every day, fuck your pussy is heaven’ you couldn’t even form words as he was thrusting his hips in rhythm with you bouncing on his cock, ‘my good fucking girl, all mine.’ He felt you pulse around him, gripping him perfectly, his vibranium hand moved to your throat, your eyes snapped to his, for a split second he thought he had gone too far but the grip your pussy had on his length told him otherwise, between brutal thrusts he panted, ‘tell me you’re mine Bambi.’ ‘look at you, fucked you dumb sweetheart’ ‘can’t even speak, tell me, be my good girl.’ As his fingers gripped your throat tighter the pressure building was like nothing else, you were hurtling to a brain numbing orgasm but managed to moan out some form of answer, ‘yo… yours D..addy. fuck gonna cum.’

‘Cum on my cock darlin’, fuck gripping me so tight. My good girl.’

That’s all you needed to explode into heaven as he fucked up into you at super soldier speed, immediately releasing your throat when he painted your walls with his seed holding you tightly against him riding you both through your releases. 

It was in these moments holding your spaced out being against his where he held back the most, the whispered declarations of love into your ear didn’t feel enough to really show you how much he loved you, he wanted to run to the nearest chapel with you over his shoulder & marry you on the spot, anything else was not enough.

Being greeted by T’Challa, The Queen & Shuri was a moment you wouldn’t forget, they were so gracious & generous in their hospitality & the respect they treat your Super Solider with, as promised you had been filled by Bucky & were battling your pelvic floor the entire time to make sure nothing escaped after he had insisting on putting your underwear in his pocket. 

Everyone was so welcoming to you both & Shuri was an immediate ally, you held back from the rest of the group to walk with her as you made your way into the palace & expressed how grateful you were that she had helped Bucky, she knew about all about Gerald & wanted to show you her lab during your visit. She of course told you all the embarrassing tales when Bucky had his new arm fitted & how she loved being the bane of his life since & how he always spoke about you on their calls since he left. Bucky later told you more about his sister Rebecca & how Shuri felt akin to the little sister he missed so much, although he could do without all the sass she handed his way. 

Okoye lead a Dora Milaje demonstration, they were so majestic in their movements & you were enamoured by their power & skill, Bucky didn’t even dispute the fact that they would be able to take him down, you made him swear not to tell them about how you got shot, if it was possible to hero-worship someone as a grown adult Okoye was definitely it for you & you didn’t want her thinking of you as an idiot who shot herself air guitaring with a gun. 

After your welcome you were taken to the place Bucky was itching to go the most, the place where he felt most at peace before meeting you; his hut with his goats. The reunion was exactly what you were hoping for, his face lit up with sheer joy as they ran towards him, yes you cried & Shuri had to upgrade the storage on your phone you took so many videos & photos.

It was a privilege to witness Bucky in Wakanda, you hadn’t ever seen him as relaxed & care free, he said it was down to the shield protecting the entire country so there was no possibility of a Hydra threat, but you knew it was because he was at home here. He was the White Wolf, no one thought of him as a monster, they saw him for who he really was, a man capable of an unmatched determination to fight his programming, a strength to overcome the injustices against him for the greater good & a selfless humble gentleman. 

With the sun on his face & breeze through his hair, no missions, no fighting, just a stillness that he hadn’t ever had time for in his hundred years of living with the love of his live by his side, he was at peace. Bucky insisted on taking you to the lake for the first sunrise together, you both cried, such a cliché but it felt like a sign of something new, a new beginning for you both as the sun broke through the dawn, illuminating the African plains as far as the horizon, the haze reflecting from the water made you believe in the mirage of the desert, you hadn’t ever seen anything as beautiful.

He found the tranquillity by the lakeside opened him up to you far more than he had before, he told you about his family, his Ma who would have loved you dearly, details he had remembered & the parts Steve had filled in, his life before the war, the happiness of his youth but he also recalled the heart wrenching parts of his existence that tore you in two when he spoke of the horrors of what he really went through, but you listened, held him & let him speak. He always felt scared of telling people about his captivity, even the tiny parts he did share, but trusting you with his painful life was effortless, you didn’t just listen to him, you really heard what he was telling you. He wanted you to know the magnitude behind his words that he would go through it all again to be right where he was & as each memory was vocalised it was like the weight he was carrying left his soul.

He made sure to spend the first few days introducing you to all the people who had helped him during his de-programming, everyone seemed overjoyed at the progress he had made since he left especially at how enamoured he appeared to be with you. The most time was spent with the children who had given Bucky reason to get up in the mornings, they had all grown & enthused about how they used to help with his hair before he got his new arm after you asked about his infamous manbun. 

--

Bucky had been in the city all day having his arm recalibrated, you were under strict instructions to not attend so that some actual work could be done & Shuri wasn’t spending the entire time talking to you, you decided on staying at the hut the Wakandan’s had kept vacant long after its previous occupant had returned to the outside world. 

Despite the country being more technically advanced than anywhere beyond its borders the hut was a rural relic & completely isolated from the high-rise city you had first laid your eyes on when you arrived in the country. The hut stood at the bottom of a sprawling valley sitting beside a tranquil lake with not a single soul for miles, apart from the miniature goats roaming the land, the three-room home was all you needed.

You had spent the morning tidying then tending to the goats whilst trying to keep Burtie from constantly diving in the river, if Bucky asked you to retire here & raise your family you would in an instant, the silence & serenity was like nothing you had ever experienced.

The hotter you got the more you thought Burtie was onto something with the river, the water was so calm & inviting, you were re-assured by several locals that there were no swamp monsters or things that could eat you hiding in the depths. Knowing there was no one for miles you shed your clothes & began walking along the pier peering down into the water, it was crystal clear & still, you almost felt bad disturbing the serene setting, but you arched your back & dove in.

The crisp water was heaven, Burtie wasn’t far behind, diving in trying to swim to you frantically like you needed his help, you reassured him with calming head strokes & nose kisses that you were ok & it was enough for him to paddle away only to run up the bank & do the same thing over again. He was the other love of your life for sure, the number one contender though had returned & was watching from afar smiling to himself every time Burtie swam straight to you for some love & praise. Bucky started stripping the layers of his clothing as he stealthily moved towards the lake, silently entering the water,  you were startled suddenly by a splash, you whipped your head around trying to see where it came from assuming Burtie was up to no good but he was basking in the sun on the pier, you noticed the ripples in the surface of the water quickly approaching where you were stood, this was the swamp monster you were afraid of. Your breathing picked up as your heartbeat increased, frozen you awaited your fate only to be hoisted up out of the water on a very familiar pair of shoulders.

You half screamed half laughed ‘Buckkkkyy, aaaaah put me down.’

He somehow lifted you up & spun you around still on his shoulders & with your thighs wrapped around his head burying himself in your damp mound, mumbling ‘Still want me to put you down Bambi?’

Your fingers found themselves gripping onto his hair to steady yourself as his tongue found your clit, ‘Fuck, don’t stop.’ His strong hands held you upright as he continued his relentless sucking & lapping of your pussy, you could feel the pressure building as you held on to your Super Solider for dear life, he knew your body better than any man you had ever been with so could get you to orgasm effortlessly with his mouth, he knew exactly what you loved. 

He could feel you tensing, probably reluctant to relax on his shoulders enough to let go properly, he shifted his mouth, ‘Cum for me Bambi, you won’t fall, I got you.’

He tightened his grip on your back before he went straight back to work clamping his lips around your clit & sucking with everything he had, your body relaxed & let the growing climax rush over you exploding as you ground down on the mouth attached to your pussy, of course you were held steadily throughout & when Bucky could feel you completely spent he lowered you down & wrapped your legs around him so he could keep you both afloat.

‘Hi’

‘Hi.’

He kissed you so firmly you thought you’d bruise, you swiped your tongue across his mouth cleaning up the mess you’d made of it, you didn’t waste any time reaching down to feel his bare cock standing to attention under the surface, you wanted to sit straight on it but he held you tightly, so it was just out of reach. You practically whined when he stopped you the second time.

‘In a minute Bambi, not seen my sweet girl all day.’

‘How was your appointment?’

‘All shiny & new again, Shuri said hi.’

‘Missed you today.’

‘Missed you too honey.’

As you were held in his arms clutching to him like the Koala you were you mind drifted.

‘Bucky Bear, did you know there’s a kind of fish in the amazon that swims up men’s urethra’s?’

‘Shhhh Bambi, that’s enough smart words from you.’

His mouth was battling with you talking but you carried on. ‘it’s true though, I should have asked if they have them here too. You do realise a urethra is a man’s pee hole.’

His eyes widened & you were swiftly carried out of the lake, once you were both secure & demon fish free in your orifices he laid you on the side of the water, the soft grass cushioning your body as he lay over you.

The kisses being pressed against your drying skin were making you squirm with need, your hands moved down between your bodies to line him up with you, ‘need you in me.’

He wasted no time pushing into you, connecting your lips as he bottomed out, ‘can never say no to you Bambi.’

Bucky never felt like he needed to count his blessings with you, he knew how lucky he was that you put aside every bad thing he had done in his life & loved him all the same but being back in Wakanda showed him how far he had come since the day he left. It was all because of you & him wanting to be someone deserving of you, it was no coincidence, he met you as soon as he got back, it had all felt too soon to be free & be able to walk around after what he did but then you would drag him out of his self-inflicted isolation, get up to mischief & ring him to come rescue you. You always needed him & he always needed you to rescue him from himself. Why had he wasted so much time, as he continued to pump into you, he could feel the emotions stirring, bubbling & he was doing all he could to stay in that moment, you underneath him looking as ethereal & fucked out as ever.

‘Not gonna last honey, can feel you squeezing me.’

‘Cum with me Bucky.’

 His hips picked up speed & he drove your orgasm into overdrive, taking over every sense as it slammed into you, picking him up & taking him along the way as your cunt fluttered & pulsed around his cock.

He was basking in the afterglow, your heart rate was returning to its normal pace & your mind coming back to him, he loved these moments the most, holding you tightly to him seeing your hazy eyes gain some focus, then the second you look up at him it’s like the world is as it should be. 

You were both still quiet, hands caressing each other & kisses placed wherever your lips touched & he could see the gears in your head turning waiting for you to say whatever random thing popped into your head.

‘Hey Bucky’

‘Yes Bambi’

‘Would you rather be able to speak to animals or speak every language in the world?’

He couldn’t hold it in anymore, you lay in his arms so perfectly anticipating his answer to the ridiculous question & he wanted to thank every god ever worshipped that one of them sent an angel to earth for him, you couldn’t have come from anywhere else.

‘Marry me.’

You studied his eyes looking for any hint of deception, but all that reflected back was sincerity, love & devotion, you felt the tears clouding your vision from this hunk of a man so scowly & rough on the outside always managing to show you how soft he really was, you couldn’t care less that you’ve only just got together, people would think you’re nuts but when you know, you know. 

The smile spread on your face. ‘Yes’

He crashed his mouth into yours, he hadn’t ever felt as happy in his life & reached into his soggy sock to pull out a ring & you couldn’t help laughing.

‘How long has that been in there?’

‘I bought it the day after you told me you loved me, been carrying it round with me since.’

He slipped it on your left hand & you took a minute to admire the beautiful ring sitting on your finger, it looked like a 1920’s design, with a central diamond surrounded by rubies.

It took your breath away at how perfectly it sat on your finger, like it belonged there, ‘Vintage, like you.’

He poked your side & giggled along with you. ‘Definitely not Tony Stark approved. I asked him for permission but told him the ring was already bought.’

‘I love it so much, it’s perfect, you’re perfect.’

‘Not even close to perfect darlin’, but I promise you that I will try to be for you for the rest of our lives.’

--

To say Bucky’s Sea legs were shaky was an understatement, he was fine on Tonys yacht spending the days spread out on deck or spreading you out below deck, his jokes of ‘when the boat is a rocking…’ made him giggle each time as you rolled your eyes at his total dad joke. Three weeks in Wakanda flew by & you reluctantly left with the promises of returning as soon as you could, neither of you wanted to leave but the yacht & whale watching trip had been planned especially for you so cancelling wasn’t an option.

The morning boat trip to the Sea of Cortez had been choppy, Bucky had a few bouts of nausea but you were just bouncing off the deck with excitement, seeing a real life whale had been your dream as long as you remembered. The bay was stunning, the turquoise blue of the crystal-clear ocean reminded you so much of your beloved Super Soldier’s eyes, the early morning sun was bouncing off the surface & beneath a rich abundance of life, the fishes mesmerised you as they moved in perfect harmony darting along the sea floor.

Towards the horizon you saw the first breach, it was breath-taking & you screamed for Bucky to come & watch, you wanted to share this memory with him, to remember such a monumental day with the love of your life. Having seen the whale’s, the captain turned on the engine to get closer to the action, you were buzzing in excitement as you headed towards them.

It wasn’t long before a humongous humpback whale breached right at the side of the boat, you couldn’t breathe as it crashed back into the water shaking the vessel you were clinging to, you realised Bucky was probably right about you demanding a blue whale as a pet, it definitely wouldn’t fit in the pool back at the tower.

You were startled when one of the whales surfaced right next to you, its exhale through it’s blow hole hit you right in your face & the stench made you want to throw up, rude. After a few moments catching its breath, it disappeared down & then under the boat, your eyes widened & Bucky noticed your pulse sky rocketing.

You turned to him, he was expecting a beaming smile but you looked terrified ‘I think we should go home now, I miss Burtie.’

‘We just got here Bambi, why?’

‘I told ya, miss our baby, please can we go?’ you tugged on his arm & he could see the panic overtaking your face, as he turned away to speak to the captain you clung to him.

‘Just gonna tell the Captain honey. You stay here, ok?’

Your eyes were fixed on the ocean but your reluctantly nodded & let go of his arm. The journey back was tense, Bucky knew something had happened, but he didn’t want to push you when you were still looking so terrified & stuck on a boat, he waited until you were back at your hotel to get to the bottom of what happened.

You were busy packing the cases, throwing in anything you could find to finish & get out of there as soon as possible, you could see him watching you from the corner of your eye, you contemplated getting down on your knees to avoid talking about it but today wasn’t your day, ‘You gonna tell me what happened back there honey?’ he leaned on the door frame with his arms crossed failing to look as stern as possible.

‘Bucky, I don’t want to talk about it ok, just leave it.’ He hadn’t ever experienced you speaking to him like that, maybe he should have left it alone, but it broke his heart that you weren’t comfortable telling him something.

‘No Bambi, we don’t keep things from each other so please tell me what’s wrong.’ He sounded so hurt that you wouldn’t tell him which only made your guilt feel so much worse about this entire trip.

‘No … you’ll just make fun of me.’ You shook your head hoping he would drop it so you wouldn’t have to say it out loud.

‘No, I won’t.’ 

‘Yeah, you will, all the guys always do.’

‘I’m not one of them, when I have ever made fun of you?’

You took a second to think, even when you told him about how you got shot he only kissed it better & yes might have checked the safety was on with every gun you were near but being safe is a good thing … ‘Never.’

‘Exactly so can my future wife please tell me why we left so soon when it was such a big dream of yours to see a whale in the wild.’ He had slowly made his way towards you & held your face in his so you would look in his eyes.

You paused, you felt silly keeping it from him, he might even tell everyone what happened then you would never hear the end of it until Natasha had interrogated you for the truth, you let out a deep sigh, ‘The whale, it went under the boat & I freaked out thinking it would surface underneath us & we’d be stranded on its back & I was scared, ok?’

He rested his head against yours, he hated that you were scared & didn’t tell him ‘Bambi, I would never ever let anything happen to you.’

‘I know but there’s some things you can’t stop happening, a giant whale is one. If you think about it, it could just swallow us whole. We’d be trapped in its mouth; I don’t want to die in a Whale’s mouth even if you’re there with me.’

‘I’d punch it, give it an uppercut. Wouldn’t stand a chance sweetheart.’

You giggled at how ridiculous he was being, he wrapped you in his big arms & looked down on you like you loved. ‘I never ever want you to be scared of anything when you’re with me, if you are I’ve not done my job right.’

‘You can’t protect me from everything.’

‘Just watch me.’

--

It took 6 whole months before Tony agreed to you having another vacation, you were on the brink of doing something to get you both suspended before he caved & gave you the keys to his log cabin. Turns out log cabins weren’t really your thing, yes, the aesthetic was Pinterest perfect, the way the rich green leafed trees overhung the solid wood abode with mist surrounding the bark driveway almost ironically like someone had desaturated your eyeballs to look at it all murky & mysterious. 

It was just so boring, no tv, yes, all the fucking one could muster & you both were practically chaffed at this point but a hike? Yeah, that didn’t end well, falling on a flat surface is a regular occurrence so why a trail with slippery rocks was a sparkling idea of Bucky’s you’ll never know, tumbling down a cliffside hurts as much as you think it will. Yes, you had your beefy super solider scrambling after you to rescue you or more accurately pull you out of the mud at the bottom of the cliff then carry you back & patch you up but it still sucked. Plus, it was cold & damp & unless Bucky was wrapped around you, your teeth were in a permanent state of chattering. 

The yacht was a sun kissed distant memory at this point, you had proposed the idea of zipping yourself in Bucky’s hoodie & slipping your legs down the front of his joggers so you could steal his warmth, but he insisted the height difference was the sticking factor of the plan, instead he decided to light the fire & lay you down on the plush rug that sat in front of the hearth.

‘Always wanted to do this darlin’, lay you out & kiss every inch of your skin.’

You were already desperate for him as he started pressing his lips on your shoulder moving across your décolletage, savouring the places that he knew drove you wild evidenced with how you body bucked up as soon as his tongue lapped your skin. You could feel every smile your reactions pulled from him against your hot tingling skin, the fierceness from the fire pricked at you but every ember of warmth within you was systematically being delivered by the super solider dedicating himself to your pleasure.

You were writhing, dripping & begging him to kiss you were you needed by the time he reached your hip, you hands wandered so many times he had to hold them down berating you for being a bad girl. You were ready to call him daddy, sir, his lordship at this point to get him to co-operate, ‘Daddy, please it hurts.’

‘Where does it hurt sweetheart.’

‘My pussy, need you to kiss it better.’

Hmmm is that right.

‘Yeah, please I’ll do anything.’

‘Anything?’

‘Yes.’

The thoughts were flooding to his head, you’d agreed to marry him already, probably was too soon for a baby but the thought was driving him wild, to have you carrying his child but he wouldn’t ever take advantage of your desperation like that. 

He moved his lips south, at a faster pace than he had been going up til now & met your dripping cunt, he could never say no to you.

‘Gonna wish you’d not asked honey, you’ll be begging me to stop.’

You were by the fourth orgasm, he swore you had squirted you insisted you probably peed on him a little & it was his own fault for not letting you go but here he was still not releasing you from his grasp as he tried to coax another climax from your swollen overstimulated cunt.

‘I know you’ve got another Bambi, can feel it.’

‘Please just fuck me Sir, please Sargent.’

‘Oh, I will be, but I need another from you, you gonna be my good girl.’

His lips clamped around your clit & his fingers returned to your sweet spot & somehow again you could feel another orgasm ripping through you, ‘yes, yes, yes.’ Your body spasmed, twitched & convulsed around his mouth as your mind entered another realm, you sensed he had finally released your arms & you lay there waiting for him to fill you like only he could. 

‘On all fours.’ The sternness of his deep commanding voice thrilled you into moving, your arms & legs were like jello & Bucky helped move your limbs, you were face down unable to see him as he marvelled at the sight in front of him, your swollen cunt was on display perfectly awaiting him, running his aching cock along your dripping pussy had you jerking forward, tremoring from the anticipation. He gripped onto your hips & pulled you back plunging his cock into your tight warm cunt, ‘fuck, such a good girl for me aren’t you Bambi.’

‘Yes sir, fuck me harder.’

‘What do you say?’

‘Pl..please daddy, pound me.’

He almost came at you so sweetly begging but he held on to speed his hips, if his girl wanted a pounding, she would get one, he let go fully, he’d fucked you hard before but this position & angle he was slamming his hips into yours.

You lost the use of words from the sheer force bucky was using, he wrapped your hair around his hand & pulled you up to him, so your back was against his chest.

‘You like it rough don’t you my sweet girl, can feel you squeezing me. You gonna make a mess on my cock? Touch yourself, show me what a filthy girl you are.’

You connected your fingers to your clit, somehow keeping a rhythm with Bucky’s stuttering hips, even both on your knees he towered over you giving him the perfect view over your shoulder of your tits bouncing at every thrust & your hand between your legs rubbing yourself exactly like he told you, such a good girl.

‘Gonna cum.’

‘Hold on sweet girl.’ He gripped you tight & pounded into you brutally, once, twice, three times, somehow deeper each time, you were squeezing his cock with everything you had as you tried to stave off your climax, Bucky practically spluttered out ‘cum for me Bambi.’ Once the wave of his climax hit him pulling you with him, he felt your body crumple as he released into you laying you both down as his hips continued to pump you full of him until every drop was spent.

After you had both led by the fire whispering ‘I love you’s’ to each other, Bucky reluctantly made his way to the kitchen to get you both something to eat, you were lost in thought when he re-joined you on the floor mimicking the way you were led.

‘Bucky Bear?’

‘Yes Bambi?’

‘Did you know some turtles tickle each other’s faces when they’re mating?’

You looked so shy saying it, he really felt like the luckiest guy on the planet, ‘Do you want me to tickle your face Doll?’ he couldn’t help poking your side to tickle you as the thoughts he was having earlier swirled in his head. 

You shrugged your shoulders being so damn irresistible laying on your front, bottom in the air legs crossed swinging ‘maybe’.

He rolled onto you, swarming you, engulfing you entirely with his body as he leaned on his elbows & gently tickled your face kissing down your neck from above as he pressed you into the rug, your laugh filling him to the brim. How can such a gorgeous nerdy idiot like you let a big brutish shell of a man into your heart? 

--

The Brooklyn brownstone was finally ready, it took every ounce of Bucky’s assassin training to keep it a secret, it took months of renovations to get the place to the standard he insisted your home should be, he stopped short of adding an elevator at Tony’s incessant taunting that you still had all four limbs so an elevator in a three-floor home was a bit OTT even for the eccentric billionaire. So far Bucky had kept his promise about taking care of you & giving you the life you deserved, Tony was actually impressed at the level of detail he insisted on & the purpose it gave the old man, as expected you were oblivious & just going along with whatever plan was in place to distract you whilst he attended to whichever house crisis occurred that day.

You had been searching for a house together having been very rudely evicted from the Tower after the whole control room incident; did you know when Bucky had you bent over the control desk that your tits had pressed the broadcast button?, no. Did the whole tower hear you calling Bucky ‘Daddy’ & that you requested him to ‘fuck me dumb’?, perhaps. Did it warrant the meeting where every ‘indiscretion’ you had committed was laid bare so to speak with HR?, probably. But being caught 27 times wasn’t a valid reason for the eviction you argued, no one was really in the tower to hear the broadcast & yes, a few buttons may have been damaged when you rode him on the desk, but no one actually saw anything. You retreated to your apartment with your tails between your legs once they brought up the security footage, apparently arming weapons that could cause significant damage was a no no. Prudes. 

It was an easy decision for Bucky to move into your place, he hated his grey miserable apartment & the idea of spending nights alone having been inseparable from you for months filled him with dread, he was sure he was outstaying his welcome when you mentioned his apartment a couple of times in passing. You were so sad when he announced he was going back to his place, waking up every day in his arms was your new norm & the idea of going without didn’t fly with you, so you gently suggested there was no need for you both to have apartments & that he should just move in with you, he wrapped you in his arms so incredibly tight with sheer relief that you swore he broke a rib.

He had planned the surprise meticulously, every event in your relationship thus far had been spontaneous, the declarations of feelings, physical exchanges, his proposal & although buying the house next door to Ms Alice was a frantic split-second decision having committed to buying it on the spot then subsequently having to beg Tony to give him the money, the rest he needed to be planned, intentional, as serious as he was about you. 

When Bucky suggested an afternoon in Brooklyn you jumped at the chance, he had been so busy recently with missions here, there & everywhere, you were one mission away from putting a suggestion in the suggestion box about people learning more languages so that Bucky could have a break, not that they took on board your suggestion for the suggestion box. Spending a day in the bustling streets snuggled up to your Super Solider was perfect, you had lunch in your favourite restaurant, played some footsie under the table, had a walk along the river, fucked in an alleyway, your favourite alleyway & then he slowly guided you to where you bought your puppy.

He was suddenly overcome by nerves, what if this was too much, he knew you liked being taken care of but was this too controlling? He felt the panic rise suddenly as you were questioning why you were here, then getting excited that Burtie was getting a little brother. He snapped himself out of his panic before he had to break your heart about not getting another puppy, any longer you would have named it & envisaged your lives together with another dog.

‘No honey, Burtie isn’t getting a little brother just yet.’

‘Oh.’ The disappointment in your voice was palpable & still managed to break his heart, he would just arrange with Ms Alice in the morning to reserve a puppy from the next litter.

‘Well we’ve been looking for a bigger place for some time & I heard one has come onto the market.’

You gasped, ‘Ms Alices?’ 

God damn it, this wasn’t going to plan, Bucky now had to disappoint you again.

He shook his head sorrowfully, ‘No honey,’

‘Oh.’ There it was again, fuck, Bucky you are such a fuck up.

‘Come with me Bambi.’

He grabbed your hand & led you up the stone steps to the house next door to Ms Alice, the keys were already in his palm as you reached the top.

The pastel blue door opened to a foyer of subway tiles & an intricate mosaic floor tile, as you looked up a further door stood with half stained glass & dark cherry wood, a console table was waiting for the keys to be deposited & brass hooks for your jackets were lined up perfectly on the dark blue wall.

You gasped as you looked to your left to see a mid-century lounge, filled with plants, warm hues & a beautiful original fireplace, the room was open plan into the next space which had the biggest walnut dining table sat on top of a beautiful Persian rug, the floors were original herringbone & you couldn’t even digest the stunning pastel kitchen that was wrapped around the back of the house complete with crittall doors to the patio & the garden beyond.

You hadn’t said a word as you drifted from one room to another in a trance at how perfect the place was, you hadn’t even seen the upper levels, you would sleep down here if they were a disaster, you definitely wouldn’t be able to afford it. 

‘It’s ours.’ Bucky shyly whispered, all excitement had been drained from him from your silence, you always talked, always. This wasn’t a good sign & he couldn’t help himself but fill the silence, ‘Sorry if you’re disappointed, if you want anything changing let me know or we can just find something else. Fuck, I should have asked you what you wanted, I just looked at your pinboard page & went from there but why didn’t I think you would want to pick everything? Tony said you would enjoy decorating but I said you’d get overwhelmed & hide in Gerald’s closet house & get him to keep fetching you coffees until you were buzzed enough to pick, I didn’t want your heart going through all the additional stress, you’re not a Super Solider like me & I need to keep you with me until I die, you can’t die first. We’ll just go back to your place & rethink, it’s fine.

You were speechless, you should have stopped him rambling & you felt so bad that you couldn’t vocalise how you were feeling, how overwhelmed you were that this hunk of a man was really yours & had spent time making the home of your dreams.

You turned to him, ‘This is what you’ve been doing & not going on missions?’

‘Yeah Doll, look I know I lied & I swear I haven’t ever lied about anything else to you ever, I mean that, cross my heart.’

‘& you did all this by yourself?’

‘Well Tony helped with the financing & pointing me in the direction of your pinboard thing & where to find people to do things.’ He shrugged, completely dismissing his efforts to protect himself for the disappointment he was about to face.

‘Pinterest.’

‘Yeah that.’

‘Well, you know me better than Tony because I wouldn’t have been able to do all this.’

At least he held some pride in knowing you better than Tony, but he still didn’t know if you liked it, the suspense was eating at him.

‘Like I said we can look for something else or change anything.’

You shook your head, ‘Bucky it’s perfect. You’re perfect. Fuck, how did I get so lucky having you to look after me like this? This is our home? For real? Am I dreaming?’

‘It’s ours.’ This time it came out stronger, you could hear the pride in his voice & the smile that was now carved on his face.

‘Show me the rest.’

‘Well, there’s the basement I figured could be a place for you to work, I thought I’d leave you & Tony to do that space, the top floor has three bedrooms all with their own bathroom, the second floor has our bedroom, walk in closet & bathroom, a guest room, then there’s this little room next to ours, not big enough for a bedroom, maybe an office but I’ve not touched it yet. What do you think we should do with it Bambi?’

Life in your home you shared with Bucky was good, to have met someone who entertained every wild idea & joined you with as much enthusiasm as you did was a concept you wouldn’t ever get used to, even when you thought back to being friends he was always the same. Whether it was the time he drove you to Niagra Falls because you didn’t believe it could possibly freeze despite seeing a live feed & Bucky explaining that no, the feed hadn’t frozen it wasn’t moving because the waterfall was actually frozen or when you insisted he join you looking for bigfoot in Virginia after you watched a YouTube video & convinced yourself you solved where to find one, he didn’t even get mad when you ended up getting lost & calling for Tony to rescue you both.

You looked at the home he had created, it was your peaceful place, over time the details had been updated, trinkets added, photos scattered the side tables of you & your Super Solider in various stages of foreplay caught on camera at functions you had attended which had become a running joke, including the one of you emerging from a cleaning closet that Nat had stood guard in front of when you told her you were trying for a baby. Next to you sat your favourite, the photo you begged Bucky to take with you & your now fully grown dog stood next to the notches on the door frame with a height chart of Burtie’s growth carved with Bucky’s knife, you somehow got Bucky to wear a shirt & trousers to match your dress, you were tempted to buy some pearls & Bucky a sweater vest to make it as cookie cutter & wholesome as humanly possible but didn’t want to push your luck.

You should be ashamed of your camera roll at this point holding so many pictures of them both, but the real life image of them both asleep wrapping themselves around you & your growing belly was an picture you wouldn’t ever forget. Life was pretty perfect. 

AN:

Thanks so much for reading & the support you've all given me, I've loved writing this & I have a couple of requests lined up which I'll do some one shots or drabble's on. Your feedback has also been amazing so let me know what you thought of their ending!!

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blush- b. barnes

pairings: bucky barnes x reader, steve rogers warnings: flustered!bucky like stupidly so about: request! Bucky was never a ‘ladies man’ in the 40’s (him and Steve made a pack to talk the other up no matter what to other guys) so when Y/n makes a move on him he gets all flustered and doesn’t know what to do… a/n: [shortie but a goodie i hope] i had to find out cucumbers are fruit for this fic and i am not okay with this information.

the effect you have on bucky drives him nearly as insane as you do, with your flirty smiles and winks he’s only half sure are meant for him. his crush on you is embarrassingly obvious—at least he thinks so, but he can’t control the blush that colors his skin whenever you blow a kiss at him after you catch him looking at you, or he turns to meet the eyes already on him.

steve stifles laughter each time bucky is left with only a wobbly little smile and longing eyes when you walk past and brush past his arm, your fingers lingering around his bicep for a few seconds too long for it to be friendly as you apologize.

bucky grumbles about how his friend isn’t—or at least wasn’t—much better than he is, but however true it may be, it falls flat when he nearly trips over his own feet when you wave at him while you run past him with an excited “hi bucky!”

you’re even gracious enough to pretend not to see when he clumsily waves back and almost crashes against a tree, although sam certainly isn’t, only somewhat quieting down when you smack at his arm.

he’s never been good at this, and he wasn’t expecting something like that to change, but he’d always trusted that he could at least be decent when it mattered.

like now. when you’re alone in the kitchen and bucky wants to ask you to go with him to the gala steve was forcing him to go to. he’d been forgoing it only because each time he saw you, there were other avengers in the room, most of which he would definitely mind seeing him getting rejected.

but then your eyes meet his and your face breaks out into the smiles that make him go a little dumb, and he realized he can’t be decent at this even when it matters.

“hey, bucky,” you greet happily, grabbing the plate of chopped fruit you’d cut for yourself and walking toward him. “d’you want some cucumber?” you offer, lifting the container.

bucky nods thoughtlessly, taking some of the cucumber and eating it. “that’s really good,” he praises, words muffled. “best cucumber i’ve ever had.”

you laugh, only urging bucky to eat more and bring that sound back. “thanks. i’m glad you like it.”

“uh huh,” he mumbles, shoving more cucumber between his lips.

“what’s that?” steve asks when he enters the kitchen, and even though bucky knows otherwise, it makes him feel better to blame it all on steve, his own silent thoughts lying when he briefly lies to himself in believing that steve interrupted just when he was going to ask you to be his date.

“chopped cucumber with lime and salt,” you reply. “want some? bucky liked it.”

steve furrows his brows, “bucky hates cucumbers. always has.” he shoots the man a look.

surprised, you turn to bucky, retracting the plate. “you do? you don’t have to eat any if you don’t want to, buck. seriously.”

“no,” bucky argues petulantly, reaching for more fruit, “i love cucumber.” he nods seriously, gesturing to steve and waving him off. “old.”

“thanks,” steve retorts, rolling his eyes and walking out as bucky continues to force more cucumber into his mouth.

you eye him suspiciously before simply nodding and taking some for yourself. “so what’re you doing in three days?”

“hmm?” bucky questions through a mouth full of the fruit he hates. “uh, the gala i think,” he replies when he forces it down, holding back a wince but still reaching for more.

you nod. “do you have a date yet?”

bucky freezes, nearly choking when a prospect of your words drifts through his mind. he shakes it away stubbornly, refusing to get his hopes up for something that was probably not going to happen. “no,” he answers finally.

you nod, dropping your eyes and biting your lip before inhaling shortly—gaining confidence—and giving him a small smile. “would you want to go with me?” you propose. “as a date?”

bucky actually chokes then, making a strange noise and then hitting a fist against his chest. your eyebrows furrow immediately and you put your plate down, getting closer to him. “oh my god, are you okay?”

bucky forces a nod and an awkward thumbs up.

“you’re choking!” you gasp, going to slap his back. he finally swallows it down and thanks you coarsely.

before you can take it back, bucky coughs out an enthusiastic yes, nodding madly.

“are you sure?” you question cautiously, “i almost killed you just now and i’m not that great of a dancer.”

bucky chuckles hoarsely, flushing at the way your fingers are still dancing along his back in soothing motions. “that’s okay. and it was my fault. i should learn how to…” he pauses, struggling to pinpoint exactly what went wrong. ”swallow correctly.”

“i get nervous around you, too,” you blurt in an effort to make him feel better.

bucky gapes. “really?”

you nod, “obviously not as bad as you.” you motion to his neck. “but you have really pretty eyes.”

bucky goes red.

“you’re also endearingly easy to make blush.”

bucky groans lowly, trying not to choke again.

oh my. pls congressman sergeant james. pls.

Security Clearance

Title: Security Clearance

Pairing: Congressman!Bucky Barnes x Former SHEILD!Female Reader

Summary:  When a long day of political chaos leaves Congressman Bucky Barnes teetering on the edge, the last person he wants watching him is you.

Word Count:  3.8k

Warnings: /Explicit Content / 18+, Minors DNI, SMUT, Rough sex, aggressive dominants, biting, bruising, possessiveness, Semi-public setting (gym), Mutual physical aggression (consensual, Breathless dirty talk, Workplace-adjacent setting (Congressman x Bodyguard dynamic)

A/N:  Want to get this out before Thunderbolts* 

You hated this suit.

Not because it was tight or unflattering, but because it made you feel like part of the machine again. Like some cog wheeled into place after being discarded years ago. The synthetic fibers clung to your skin like old duty-like expectation. It itched in a way you couldn’t scratch. You weren’t SHIELD anymore, hadn’t been for years, but when the government needed someone with a little edge, a little blood on their hands and a spotless record on paper, your name still came up. So here you were-again. A private contractor with federal strings tied tight around your wrists. They called it security clearance. You called it a leash.

That’s how you ended up here, standing in the corner of a polished D.C. office suite, the walls too white, the air too cold, watching Congressman James Buchanan Barnes slowly come apart at the seams.

He didn’t like you. That much was obvious.

You didn’t blame him. You were a shadow in his periphery, always there. At hearings. At dinners. In hallways with nothing but silence between you. You were the person who never flinched under his stare, the one who didn’t try to smile or play politics. Your job was simple: observe, protect, report. And sometimes, control.

You were a living, breathing reminder that Bucky Barnes wasn’t as free as the country he served.

But truthfully? You weren’t sure he hated you as much as he hated what you represented. The collar he couldn’t shake. The watchdog the state had assigned him in the form of someone with matching ghosts.

Bucky Barnes was a former assassin turned polished representative with a jawline sharp enough to make headlines and a gaze that could still freeze a room. That was before today. Today, his hair was disheveled, his jaw clenched so hard it looked painful. His eyes-stormy, bloodshot, heavy-lidded-burned with something you hadn’t seen since the field: unspent violence.

His tie hung loose around his collarbone, his sleeves rolled up past the elbow. The flash of metal from his forearm caught the light with every furious step he took across the office.

You didn’t need enhanced senses to pick up the tension bleeding off him in waves. It was in the twitch of his fingers. The restless pacing. The way his mouth moved soundlessly before finally giving voice to his thoughts.

"Need to hit something before I hit someone," he bit out, ripping the rest of his tie off like it offended him. He didn’t look at you. Just turned on his heel and stalked out of the room.

You gave it two beats.

Then pushed off the wall and followed.

~#~#~#~#~#~

The gym was cold and empty. Just polished floors, the faint smell of leather and sweat, and the faint hum of fluorescent lights overhead. You stepped inside and paused just past the doorway, letting the door shut behind you with a soft click.

Bucky was already moving, disappearing into the changing room without a word. You stayed where you were, arms folded, leaning back against the wall as you let the silence stretch. A few minutes passed, and then he returned.

He’d stripped down into a plain black workout tee and loose dark sweats. Gone was the suited congressman-the image scrubbed away along with the tie and the tension. This was the man you remembered from field briefings in shadowed corners of SHIELD operations-lean muscle, taut lines, a low-simmering fury barely restrained beneath his skin.

You turned away from him, scanning the open gym floor as he began wrapping his right hand in athletic tape. Methodical. Focused. The sound of the tape unraveling was sharp in the quiet.

You started walking, slowly pacing the perimeter of the space, each step steady. You moved like you were still checking for exits, still measuring threats. It was instinct. Habit. You let your fingers skim along the wall padding. The air smelled like sweat and adrenaline and rubber.

Then the first thwack hit the air.

You stopped walking.

Bucky was hammering the punching bag. Sharp, brutal strikes. The kind that made the chain rattle and the leather creak. The kind that left bruises if anyone got in his way. You didn’t need to see his face to know he was still worked up. His grunts came short and clipped, not satisfied. Not eased.

You slowly turned back to watch him. He kept going. Harder. Faster. Each strike was more violent than the last, fists hammering the bag like it had personally offended him. You could almost hear it in his breathing-the way his exhales shortened, the growl that hovered behind each grunt. The bag wasn't working. If anything, it was winding him tighter.

You didn’t need to see his expression to know the storm inside him was getting worse. His punches turned more erratic. Sloppier, even, like control was slipping.

Then came the sharp exhale-a frustrated huff that echoed too loud in the empty space. He dropped his arms, the bag swaying slightly from the abuse, and turned toward you like he couldn’t hold it in anymore.

His eyes were fire when they met yours.

"You got anything under that you can fight in?" he asked, voice still sharp, still clipped.

You crossed your arms and raised a brow. "We're not suppose to engage the client, Sir.."

His jaw ticked. "I thought you had to follow directives?"

"Charming." You snorted muttering under your breath. 

Still, you considered it. It had been a while since you’d had a proper spar. The last few agents assigned to Bucky’s rotation had all been too stiff, too careful. The second you got aggressive, they called you 'too much'-like they didn’t sign up to be knocked flat. Bucky, though... Bucky could take a hit. More than that, he wanted one.

With a sigh, you rolled your eyes and slowly began stripping off your blazer. Then your shirt. Underneath, a fitted black tank hugged your torso. "This work for you, Congressman?"

He just turned to dig in his duffel before tossing a pair of grey sweatpants at you.

"Wear those. I don't want to get billed for ruining those pants." 

You rolled your eyes but changed, your slacks hitting the floor before you stepped into the pants he gave you. Slightly too big. Smelled like him. Looking up Bucky back was to you while you'd been changing. 

You met him on the mats, both barefoot. The floor felt cool beneath your feet, the air thickening between you in slow increments. Barnes rolled his shoulders back, the faint mechanical whirl of his metal arm filling the silence like a warning. Then came the pop of his neck as he tilted it side to side, eyes still fixed on you, unblinking.

For a moment, nothing moved. Just the subtle twitch of his fingers, your mirrored stance, the tension coiling between you like an elastic band stretched tight. You studied him-really looked. The way his shoulders stayed high, rigid with barely leashed frustration. How his jaw was still locked, even now. He wasn’t fighting to warm up. He was fighting to keep something inside.

You could see it-every inch of him wound tight like a spring, controlled only by discipline and sheer force of will. He wasn’t here to spar. He was here to unload.

Fine. Let him.

It started controlled-simple drills, practiced maneuvers. The kind of opening movements you’d run a hundred times before. You both circled, feet light on the mat, trading calculated strikes. You blocked, countered. Tested. Pushed. Watched him do the same.

He was sussing you out.

You let it build. Let him think maybe you were holding back, maybe you were just a suit who couldn’t take a hit like you used too. But the second he shifted forward with more speed, you welcomed it. Met it. Matched it. Dared him to give you more.

You weren’t made of glass.

If Bucky wanted a moving target, you’d give him one.

His pace turned aggressive. The precision in his movements gave way to something harder, more visceral. Each strike he threw was faster, heavier-like he wanted to knock the air out of you, like he needed to feel the hit deep in his bones. You answered in kind. Your footwork shifted from reactive to dominant, testing his limits with sharper counters and quicker feints. Hits landed with satisfying thuds, echoing off the gym walls like thunderclaps.

You ducked beneath one wide swing and jabbed hard at his ribs, earning a grunt. His metal arm caught your next strike and shoved you back with enough force to make your heel skid along the mat-but you didn’t hesitate. You recovered fast, twisted low under his reach, and drove a solid kick into his stomach. The contact thudded through your leg and up your spine. He grunted again-not in pain, but with a glimmer of satisfaction flashing through his eyes like you’d finally given him something real to work with.

He grinned.

You hated how good it looked on him. Like he was finally enjoying himself. Like he hadn’t looked that alive in weeks.

You went for his legs. He anticipated it, but not fast enough. He hit the mat with a solid thud that reverberated through the floor, the sound sharp in your ears. Your body reacted without hesitation-knees planted to either side of his waist as you straddled him, sweat-slick and breathing hard. Muscles burned deliciously with effort, your limbs trembling slightly from exertion. You were already flushed, heat rising under your skin, blood thrumming loud in your ears.

Then he moved. A quick twist of his hips and you were airborne for a half-second before he flipped you like a coin. Your back hit the mat, air whooshing out of your lungs.

The fight bled into something else.

Now he was above you, chest heaving, face flushed, dark hair falling loose across his brow. His breath hit your jaw, hot and ragged. Your own lungs worked double time trying to keep up, chest rising and falling with each greedy gasp for oxygen. Your skin was tacky with sweat, the sting of motion and contact still rippling through your body. Every muscle screamed with effort, every nerve buzzing with the high of adrenaline.

You felt alive. On fire.

And you stared at each other, unmoving. That flicker in his eyes-once analytical, maybe even annoyed-had burned down into something molten. Something wicked. Something hungry.

"You wanna fight," he growled, voice like sandpaper and smoke, "or you wanna fuck?"

You didn’t answer.

You grabbed him by the front of his shirt and dragged him down into you like you were daring him to find out.

The clothes went fast. His hands were everywhere, rough and demanding. He yanked your top off so quickly the friction dragged hard across your skin, leaving it tender, raw in spots-but you didn’t care. You were already burning, already writhing beneath the heat rising in your veins. His shirt was next, flying across the room like it had offended him. Skin met skin, fever-hot, slick with sweat.

You didn’t even make it upright. You rolled together across the mat, limbs tangled, lips locked in something closer to a snarl than a kiss. You shoved him back with your forearm; he pulled you down by the waist. The padded floor caught your shoulder as you twisted under him, teeth grazing his jaw. You ground your hips up into his like you were trying to fuse with him, dragging a growl out of his throat.

The need had been simmering since day one-and now it boiled over.

He broke the kiss just long enough to push your bra up and out of the way, rough fingers palming the swell of your breast before his mouth sealed over your nipple. He sucked hard until you gasped, his teeth grazing the sensitive peak. You arched into it, one hand buried in his hair.

Then his hand was dragging down, fast and possessive, running over your stomach and dipping under the waistband of your borrowed sweats and underwear in one fluid motion. The cold of the vibranium shocked you as his fingers slid between your legs, bold and greedy. 

"Fuck… you’re wet already."

"Don’t flatter yourself," you panted, nails digging into his waist. "Just.. sweat.." 

He laughed, low and dangerous, then sat back on his knees, eyes devouring you like he was already tasting you in his head. In one sharp motion, he shoved your borrowed sweats down. He didn’t hesitate. One rough yank sent your pants halfway down your thighs, and then he was grabbing your hips, dragging you against him like he was starved for it. You grunted, twisting with him as you rolled over, bodies grappling for dominance even now, forcing your pants off to give your legs a full range of motion. 

You clawed at his skin biting down hard on Bucky's neck, marking him, dragging a sound from deep in his chest that was nothing short of feral. He hissed, teeth bared, his hands fumbling with his own waistband before he shoved his sweats down just far enough to free himself.

You didn’t get a warning. No teasing. No buildup.

He shoved into you with a growl, thick and deep and unforgiving. You gasped, the stretch stealing your breath and making your spine arch. He filled you to the hilt, every inch forcing you open until your walls fluttered around him, squeezing back instinctively. The friction was filthy, the burn sublime, your cunt gripping him with a desperate kind of greed.

"Fuck..." he snarled against your cheek, his voice shredded, ragged with the restraint it was costing him not to completely lose control.

You could feel the power in him, muscles tensed like coiled wire as he bottomed out, holding still just long enough for your body to adjust-but it wasn’t nearly enough. Your hips rolled up, instinctive and greedy, chasing the sensation like you needed more of him. Needed him to move, to wreck you. He responded immediately, a brutal snap of his hips that punched a sharp cry out of your throat, the sound swallowed by the thick, humid air.

You dug your heels into the mat, bracing, pulling him deeper as you arched up into every thrust. Your nails raked down his spine, dragging welts along sweat-slick skin. Your cunt clenched hard around him, squeezing tight like you never wanted to let him go, like your body was just as desperate as he was to keep him buried deep inside. He felt massive, every stroke grinding against your sweet spot, slick and devastating.

"Christ..." you gasped, voice wrecked, torn straight from your chest like gravel. You rocked back against him, eyes fluttering, your whole body a raw, trembling thing.

His breath hit your neck, hot and ragged. "You like that?"

You could barely answer, too strung out on the push and pull of his body-but you weren’t yielding. Not completely. One of your hands wrenched free of his grip and tangled in his hair, yanking his head back just enough to crash your mouth to his. It wasn’t a kiss. It was a challenge. A bite.

He snarled and surged forward, dragging you down to the mat fully, but you fought him for every inch of control-hips rolling up to meet his, mouth dragging along his jaw to nip at his throat, your legs locking tighter around his waist. You bit down hard on the hinge of his shoulder, grinning at the guttural sound it tore from his chest.

His hands found yours again, slamming them above your head, pinning you like a wild thing beneath him. But you didn’t go limp. You writhed, arched, snapped your teeth at his throat like you wanted to devour him.

"Fucking hell," he groaned, voice raw and wrecked. "You want to be on top that bad?"

"And let you have all the fun.." you hissed back, eyes blazing.

When he drove into you again, it wasn’t just lust-it was a challenge met, a battle accepted. A dare between beasts. It was teeth and sweat and the raw scrape of skin on skin. Moans caught between gritted teeth. Fingernails carving stories into flesh. Each thrust came with a brutal rhythm, deep and fast, his hips slamming into you with force that rattled through your bones.

You took it. Gave it back. Your cunt squeezed around him like a vise, greedy, refusing to let him retreat. You met him thrust for thrust, voice hoarse and wild, breath panting out curses and gasps.

"Come on, Barnes. You wanted a fight-fucking take it."

He snarled like an animal, dragging his mouth down your neck as he ground against your sweet spot. "You're gonna be the death of me."

"You should be so lucky," you spat as his teeth meat your skin. 

Your thighs trembled with the effort, but your fire didn’t fade. You rocked up hard, lips dragging along his jaw before sinking your teeth into his neck again, marking him with pride. You felt his cock twitch in response.

"You're not the only one who likes to bite, Barnes," you growled into his ear.

He hissed again, head tipping forward, the movement desperate. His hands fumbled, trying to grab your hips, trying to hold you still as you took control of the rhythm, riding him from beneath with nothing but fury and fire and hunger.

"You’re fuckin’ feral," he panted.

"You love it," you breathed, grinding harder.

"Yeah," he gasped. "Yeah, I fuckin’ do."

You weren’t being fucked. You were fucking him back. And he loved every damn second of it.

His pace turned punishing, hips slamming into yours with an obscene, wet sound. The mat beneath you squeaked with the force of it, the slap of skin-on-skin echoing loud in the gym. You couldn’t stay quiet-not when he was grinding into you just right, hitting that perfect angle with brutal consistency.

Your body jolted with each stroke, every nerve ending flaring as friction sparked raw heat beneath your skin. The stretch had your mouth falling open, your breath coming in faster bursts as your muscles twitched, clenching around him. Heat bloomed at the base of your spine, thick and molten, curling tighter with every brutal snap of his hips until it was all you could do to breathe.

"Fuck-god yes-"

He didn’t stop. Didn’t soften. He just growled, pulled out with a curse, and flipped you over in one effortless move, dragging your hips up until you were on your knees, chest still pressed to the mat.

"Thought you were tough," he rasped, voice scraping hot against your ear.

You barely caught your breath, heart hammering in your chest, your body still twitching with aftershocks, when he grabbed your hips and shoved back inside you from behind in one brutal, claiming thrust. The impact rocked you forward with a gasp, your hands bracing against the mat to keep from collapsing.

"Fuck, Bucky-"

His hips snapped forward, dragging a broken moan from your lips. "Say it again," he growled.

"Fuck, Bucky!"

He was deeper like this-thicker, overwhelming. You choked out a moan as your walls clamped down hard around him, the sound raw and broken. One of his hands wrapped tightly around the back of your neck, keeping you down, the pressure firm but grounding, while the other dragged between your legs with unrelenting purpose. His fingers found your clit and began rubbing ruthless, tight circles that made your entire body jump.

"That’s it. Give it to me," he murmured, low and possessive.

You bit down on your own forearm to stifle the sound building in your throat, but it was useless. The sensation was too much, too fast. The drag of him inside you was merciless-slick and raw, every stroke grinding against your tender walls, forcing you wider with each thrust. The sound of your bodies colliding was obscene, wet and rhythmic, as though he was carving himself into your core with every brutal snap of his hips. He didn’t just fill you-he overwhelmed you, like his cock was made to split you open and stay buried until you forgot anything but the pulse of him pounding into that aching spot deep inside. Your muscles tensed-shoulders, thighs, back-locking up like you were going to snap in half.

"I’m gonna-shit-Bucky, I’m-"

Your orgasm slammed into you like a freight train-merciless, sudden, all-consuming. Your vision went white at the edges as stars burst behind your eyelids, a raw scream tearing from your throat. Your body locked up, then convulsed, wave after wave of climax pulsing through you with maddening intensity. You twitched, your thighs quaking, your cunt spasming tight around him as overstimulation clawed at your nerves. A sob caught in your throat as he kept going, dragging every ounce of sensation from you until your muscles gave out entirely.

Behind you, Bucky snarled your name like a curse and a prayer, barely holding on. He slammed into you one final time and froze, his entire body trembling with restraint as your cunt clenched and fluttered around him, milking him with rhythmic, desperate spasms. His head dropped to your back, and for a moment he couldn’t even breathe.

"Fucking-god, you feel unreal," he choked out, hips giving a helpless jerk as he tried not to lose it too soon.

His hips jerked erratically, cock pulsing thick inside you. You felt the twitch and heat of him spilling deep, his release pushing you into another soft, shuddering aftershock. He bit down on your shoulder, hard enough to leave an imprint, muffling his cry as his orgasm tore through him.

"You’re mine," he gasped, nearly inaudible, more instinct than declaration.

Your body gave out first. You slumped to the mat, arms too weak to hold you up. "You..you think you won that fight?" you panted, half-laughing, half-broken.

He followed you down, still buried inside, both of you breathless and slick with sweat. For a long moment, there was only the sound of your ragged breathing and the quiet creak of the gym around you.

He sagged over your back for a long moment, still inside you, both of you panting, sweat dripping from his forehead to your spine.

Eventually Bucky pulled out with a groan and flopped beside you, still catching his breath.

Neither of you spoke.

Not yet.

"Think anyone heard that?"

You let out a dry laugh, turning your head slightly where it rested against the mat. "If they didn’t, they’ll see the marks tomorrow."

He let out a rough sound beside you, one arm flung over his eyes like it was the only thing keeping him grounded. "Gonna have to bullshit my way through a morning meeting."

"Not my problem," you said, still breathless but smiling. "I don’t recall you complaining."

"I’m not. But if I stand, I’m going to fall."

You snorted, finally shifting enough to flop onto your back, your chest still rising and falling. "You going to get in trouble?"

He rolled his head toward you, expression unreadable but softer around the edges. "Probably. You?"

You exhaled slowly. "Definitely."

A pause stretched between you, thick with the weight of what just happened. But when he passed you your tank, his fingers brushed yours-slow, warm, deliberate. Like he wanted you to notice.

"Same time next week?" he asked, a flicker of something more in his voice.

You met his gaze, smirking.

"Sooner."

TAGS: @ruexj283, @yesiamthatwierd, @trojanaurora, @hextech-bros

See here’s the thing. If Inwoke up to Sebastian Stan. A man I don’t know obviously. between my legs. I’d let it happen. For the plot of course. No other reason.

Coffee. Emergency. Thighs.

Summary: You told Bucky that the only time he’s allowed to wake you up is under three conditions: He has coffee. It’s an emergency. Or his head is between your thighs.

And today, he really, really wants to wake you up.

Pairing: Beefy!Biker Bucky x Reader

Word count: 1.6k

Warnings: Smut, Oral (fem receiving), consensual somnophilia, praise kink, body worship (Bucky has a thing for thighs).

A/N: Beta’d by the amazing @lunarbuck and @cwbucky. Based off an anon ask.

《Masterlist》《Biker!Masterlist》《Library》

You’ve always said that the only time he’s allowed to wake you up before your alarm goes off is under three conditions: if he has coffee waiting for you, it’s a dire emergency or if he has his head between your thighs.

Otherwise, you won’t be responsible for what you would do to him if he doesn’t allow you to sleep in.

He learned this after he woke you up one bright and way too early morning to ask if you remembered where he put his book—it was next to his watch by the way. You found it in less than three seconds and turned on him with a disgruntled gaze.

He can’t lie, he loved the fiery way you glared at him.

Do not wake me up again without a good reason, Bucky.

You pulled him down to your level and repeated yourself so slowly and with so much malice, that he instantly got hard. 

The way you aggressively manhandled Bucky, turned him on more than either of you expected. He spent a few hours apologizing to you, mostly with you on top of him. 

It’s a little after six, muted pinks, burnt oranges and streaks of blue mar the skyline, and enough light filters through the spaces around the curtains to illuminate the room in a dusky glow.

Bucky’s been awake for hours. He spent the first two on his back, staring at the ceiling, willing himself to get up and do something, anything.

But that would mean leaving you, all warm and soft and sleepy, he tried once, even got his leg over the edge of the bed but the light weight of your hand splayed across the ridges of his lower abs rendered him immobile, he has no choice but to stay in bed.

With you.

Keep reading

OH. OH NO. PLSSSS WHAT HAPPENS NEXT

lessons in lovemaking [part three]

marvel au bucky x blackwidow!reader You and Bucky Barnes go undercover as a married couple, but when a fake kiss gets too real, he unexpectedly finishes in his pants—leaving you both stunned.

Warnings: 18+ content minors dni, smut, handjobs, fondling, nudity, fem reader, bucky is touch starved, vague mentions of previous sa, ex black widow reader, very consensual, safe words, kissing, bucky barnes needs a hug, if you squint, there's some plot, fluff, angst, bickering, sparring, training, mentions of alcohol, natasha cares, injury, blood, reader is lowkey depressed, trauma, mentions of past violence and death, no use of y/n, lmk if i've missed anything

Word Count: 9.9k

A/N: hey if you have dejavu seeing this, it's because the other post is glitched for some reason and some people aren't able to see it, i think it's to do with there being over 30 people on the taglist. i'll have to come up with a solution for that. in the meantime, pls enjoy and hopefully this post is actually visible!. sorry for any typos - not proof read.

main masterlist | series masterlist

"Go for the left."

Kate blinked. "The left?"

"Yes."

She looked from you to Bucky, eyebrows raised like you’d asked her to charge a bear with a toothpick. "We’re talking about the left? The metal freaking arm left?"

"That’s the one."

The look she gave you was flat-out incredulous. "Are you serious? Isn’t that the last place I should be aiming?"

You resisted the urge to sigh. "That’s exactly why you should aim there. Everyone goes for his right. They assume it’s weaker. Bucky knows that. He’s trained to defend that side, conditioned even. But the left? Sure, it’s strong. That doesn’t make it invulnerable. Watch him."

You nodded toward Bucky, shadowboxing in the centre of the mat, relaxed but precise, like a predator keeping his muscles warm. "See how he braces before a punch? That slight weight shift? It’s a habit. Subtle but predictable. It leaves a small window, but just enough. Learn to spot that, and you can drop someone twice your size."

Kate’s expression turned thoughtful, eyes narrowing as she studied Bucky more intently. "Okay… so how do you get good at spotting weaknesses like that?"

"Learn to observe. Don’t rush in swinging. Patience and preparation will win a fight long before your fists do."

Kate nodded slowly, rolling her shoulders. "Alright. Let’s see if I can prove you right."

She took a step forward, then hesitated, glancing back at you with a sheepish grin. "I am a little scared, though—"

You gave her a flat look. "Just go, Kate."

She groaned but turned back toward Bucky, stepping onto the mat with a reluctant sort of determination.

It was late afternoon, and golden light poured through the gym windows in long, drowsy streaks. Dust drifted lazily in the sunbeams, but the air was thick with tension—not the kind that came from training, but from something far more complicated. Natasha and Yelena had thought it hilarious to pair you not only with Kate for sparring but also with Bucky. You had no doubt they were watching from the sidelines, smirking into their water bottles. Those two were always scheming.

Natasha hadn’t said anything to you yet, but then again, you’d been avoiding her like the plague since yesterday’s meeting. She was too sharp, too perceptive not to pick up on the subtle shifts in both your and Bucky’s behaviour. The cracks were already showing, the slightly too-long looks between you and Bucky, the stiffness in your tone whenever his name came up, the defensiveness you thought you’d kept hidden but apparently hadn’t.

You knew you couldn’t dodge her forever. Sooner or later, she’d confront you. And when she did, you’d have to lie—or worse, tell some version of the truth. What that truth even was… you weren’t sure. Not yet.

And Bucky?

You had no idea how to tell him you thought she already knew. That kind of conversation was a minefield, one wrong word and you’d either send him into horrified silence or make him regret every second of the nights spent together. Neither option was appealing.

You exhaled sharply, arms crossed as you watched Kate bounce on the balls of her feet, testing the space between her and Bucky.

He stood still in the centre of the mat, arms relaxed at his sides, expression unreadable. Brooding and unimpressed, as always. He hadn’t looked at you once all day, not properly at least. And yet you couldn’t stop thinking about how you knew exactly what he looked like when he came undone beneath you, fingers tangled in sheets and voice gone rough with need. He had been about as excited as you felt when the ‘teams’ for sparring were announced. You were beginning to suspect some convoluted plot half the compound was in on to see you and Bucky go head to head.

Now, he was back to being the Winter Soldier, being precisely what H.Y.D.R.A trained him to be, stoic, intimidating, unreadable. He had a talent for making his opponents feel beneath him. Unworthy. It was a tactic, you knew that, but it still worked.

Kate circled warily, eyes darting as she tried to read him, every shift in her posture betraying nerves. You watched her movements closely, noting the hesitation, the constant foot adjustments. She was looking for the right moment. You just hoped she’d recognise it when it came.

Much to Yelena and Natasha’s annoyance, you had flipped their little prank back onto them, sending Kate out to spar first, hoping to break her out of that ‘swing first, think later’ style Yelena loved so much.

A shadow moved in the corner of your vision as Yelena strolled up beside you, arms crossed, her gaze flicking between you and the fight. Speak of the devil, and she will appear. 

"You’re staring real hard," she drawled. "What, got money riding on this?"

You didn’t bother looking at her. "She’s your pet project. Remind me again why I’m the one training her?"

"Apprentice," Yelena corrected smoothly.

You blinked. "What?"

She gestured vaguely toward Kate, who was still circling Bucky with the kind of careful precision that told you she was second-guessing herself. "She’s my apprentice, not a pet project. There is a difference."

"Uh-huh," you said flatly, entirely unconvinced. "And yet I’m the one teaching her how to think, instead of just swinging wildly and hoping the universe sorts it out."

Yelena smirked. "Because I am all wham, whack, bang, bam, action! Yes? You are all boring lectures and tactical talk. It is balance. How is she supposed to know how cool and awesome I am without hearing all your boring lectures about battle analysis—"

You turned to her, unimpressed. "Did you just make up sound effects?"

"I have no idea what you're talking about," she said sweetly, then sipped from a water bottle like she hadn’t just made cartoon sound effects with complete sincerity.

Your focus shifted back to the fight as Kate feinted right, then hesitated—again. Bucky wasn’t attacking yet, just watching her with the kind of stillness that would’ve put even you on edge. He was waiting for her to make the first move, to reveal her plan before he committed to a real counter.

"She’s hesitating too much," Yelena observed.

"She’s calculating," you corrected. "That’s what she’s supposed to do."

Yelena made a sceptical noise. "If she waits any longer, he’s just going to knock her flat."

"If she rushes in without a plan, it’ll be the same result."

Bucky shifted—just a subtle test, quick and clean. Kate dodged, but barely. Her stance faltered. Yelena sighed, dragging her hands down her face. "Okay, this is painful to watch. You should just let me handle her—"

“No. I’m trying to teach her to think, not charge in like a wrecking ball.”

"Excuse you," Yelena gasped, touching her chest in mock offence. "I am a very tactical wrecking ball."

You didn’t respond, eyes narrowing. Kate was watching Bucky now—really watching. Good. She sidestepped his next move, then launched into the attack.

A feint to the right. A quick pivot. Just like you’d told her.

Bucky braced for the strike to his right, but it didn’t come.

Kate dipped low, powered off her back foot, and drove her elbow toward his ribs. Clean, sharp, decisive.

Bucky twisted fast, but not fast enough.

Her elbow landed. His breath left in a tight, surprised grunt.

"See?" you muttered, nudging Yelena with an elbow. "She’s learning."

Yelena lifted a brow. "Yeah, yeah. We’ll see if she follows through."

Instead of retreating, Kate followed through, using the momentum to drive her knee upward.

Bucky jerked back, but not far enough. Kate’s knee clipped his chin, snapping his head up just enough for the final blow.

You scoffed. "Give her some credit—"

A sharp smack rang through the gym.

Bucky let out a startled grunt of pain, staggering back, one hand cupping his face. Blood was already leaking between his fingers.

Kate froze, eyes going wide in horror. "Oh my god—Bucky! Oh my god, I’m so sorry! I didn’t mean—are you okay? Oh god, you’re bleeding—"

Bucky tipped his head back, exhaling sharply through his nose, which only made more blood drip down his lip. “No kidding.”

Yelena snorted beside you. "Okay, I take it back. She might actually be good at this."

Kate was still floundering, hands hovering like she wanted to help but had no idea how. "What do you need—should I get a medic? Ice? Tissues? A priest?"

Bucky shot her a glare, nostrils flaring as more blood dripped down his lip. "Just… just give me a second."

You stepped forward onto the mat. "Well. I’d say she followed through."

Yelena smirked. "Yeah. Maybe a little too well."

Kate turned to you, looking utterly betrayed. "You told me to go for the left!"

"I said to attack the opening on his left, not ‘punch him in the face like you’re trying to knock out a tooth’, but hey, improvisation is an important skill."

Kate groaned. Bucky muttered something low and vile in Russian as he turned toward the exit, blood trailing faintly in his wake.

Even Yelena blinked. “That sounded like a curse, Kate. Possibly an ancient one.”

“Don’t say that!” Kate whined in fear. 

"I’ll handle him," you muttered with a sigh, already following. You paused at the edge of the mat, glancing back at Kate. “You did good. Maybe pull your punches and ease off the full-force murder next time?”

Kate groaned louder. "That was me pulling my punches!"

Yelena’s laughter followed you as you crossed the room, clapping her hands together as she bounced on her toes like an excited child. "Oh, this is fun. We should do this more often."

You pushed through the changing room door and stepped into the cooler air beyond. The space was clean and sterile in that way that only rich tech-billionaire funding could buy. Polished tiles, dark wood lockers with brass fittings, and the faint scent of citrusy cleaner lingering beneath the hum of recessed lights.

The sound of running water guided you to the sinks.

Bucky was hunched over the white porcelain basin, one arm braced on the counter, the other still cupping the lower half of his face. The mirror above caught his reflection, blood-streaked, jaw-tight, brows drawn down in a frustrated knot. Crimson spiralled down the drain, bright against the ceramic.

“You look like a crime scene,” you muttered as you crossed the room.

Bucky let out a sharp breath through his mouth, meeting your comment with a pointed grunt that spoke volumes.

You raised a brow. “Are you going to keep glaring at me like I put out a hit on you?”

“You did,” he muttered flatly.

You rolled your eyes, making a beeline for the paper towel dispenser. You pulled out a few thick, folded sheets and pressed them into his free hand. “Sit down.”

“I’m fine.” he grumbled.

“Bucky.” You shot him a look, unimpressed. “Sit.”

His jaw tightened like he wanted to argue, but after a moment, he relented, pushing off the counter, and he trudged toward one of the benches in the centre of the room and sat down stiffly, wincing as he tilted his head back.

You crouched in front of him, studying his face. The blood smeared across his upper lip stood out starkly against his skin, but at least it wasn’t gushing anymore. His nose was red, swelling a little but not crooked. Reaching out, you ghosted your fingers over the bridge, careful and light. “I don’t think it’s broken.”

Bucky huffed. “Feels broken.”

“Yeah, well, maybe don’t let Kate punch you in the face next time.”

His lips twitched, but he didn’t dignify you with a response.

Shaking your head, you folded a fresh set of paper towels and pressed them lightly against his nose. “Hold this. It'll keep you from dripping all over Stark’s precious floors.”

Bucky took them with a sigh, his metal fingers brushing yours briefly.

You sank to your knees without really thinking about it, watching as Bucky pinched the bridge of his nose, adjusting the pressure with careful precision. His shoulders had lost some of their earlier tension, but his posture was still guarded like he was bracing himself for something more than just the dull throb of pain. The quiet hum of the ventilation system filled the space, blending with the distant murmur of voices from the gym beyond.

“Last night, I—” Bucky broke the silence first, his voice slightly nasal from the swelling.

“You fell asleep.” You cut him off gently, offering a faint smile. You didn’t know how much he had actually heard before exhaustion had finally claimed him. Maybe that was for the best. Perhaps it had been a mistake to let your guard down, to speak so openly, to bare your soul so easily. You had told yourself you wouldn’t burden him with your struggles. He already carried enough of his own.

And yet, he had this way of making you feel safe. Too safe.

It was almost ironic. He was supposed to instil fear, his name alone enough to make enemies think twice. And yet, all you saw was a rather sad, damaged, and tired man, his big, mournful puppy-dog eyes carrying the weight of things he could never put into words.

“Yeah. I don’t… remember it happening,” Bucky admitted, frowning slightly as if frustrated with himself. “One second, I was with you, and the next—”

“Did you sleep well, at least?”

He hesitated like he was debating whether to downplay it. But then, finally, he nodded. “Yeah. Best I have in a while.”

Your smile grew just a little. “I’m glad.”

Silence settled again, not awkward, but not entirely comfortable either. Then, after a beat, Bucky sighed.

“I’m sorry that I don’t talk to you much outside of… lessons.”

You shook your head. “It’s fine, Bucky. You don’t… owe me anything.”

“It’s just… I don’t know how to act,” he admitted, gaze flicking away. “Not with everyone watching. I don’t want them figuring out. I don’t like their attention being all over me.”

Your smile faltered for just a second before you forced it back into place. 

“How’s your shoulder?” you asked, shifting the conversation.

Bucky’s brows pulled together in confusion. “How do you know about that—?”

You shrugged. It was your job to observe. To pick people apart and learn their secrets before they even knew them themselves. “During training, I’ve noticed you favour your right side. You block and punch heavier with it. You were compensating subconsciously because your left side was giving you grief. Have you thought about seeing a physio?”

His lips parted slightly like he hadn’t expected you to catch that. Then his gaze narrowed, a hint of suspicion creeping in.

“Is that why you gave me a massage yesterday?”

You smirked, tilting your head playfully. “Hm. Maybe.”

Bucky huffed a quiet laugh, shaking his head. “Always two steps ahead, huh?”

You leaned in just a little, eyes glinting with amusement, a witty remark hanging off your tongue—only to dissolve the moment the door swung open.

Steve sauntered in, halting mid-step by the sinks as he took in the scene. You were kneeling between Bucky’s legs, a faint smirk tugging at your mouth while he looked down at you with something dangerously close to a smile—bloody paper towel and all.

Steve’s brows lifted. Confusion crossed his face, mixed with something harder to place, surprise? Suspicion? Whatever it was, he clearly wasn’t expecting this.

You jerked back instinctively, hands bracing on your thighs as you turned to face him.

“It’s not broken,” you announced a little too quickly, jerking your chin toward Bucky. “He’ll live. Bit of swelling and a bit of bruising. Nothing that won’t fade.”

Steve blinked, still trying to piece things together. “I didn’t realise you two were… friends?”

You let out a short, sharp laugh, already on your feet and several paces away. “Hear that, Barnes? We’re friends now.”

Bucky—who stiffly sat on the bench, with his hands still braced against his knees—remained utterly rooted in place as if one wrong move would shatter the illusion. His eyes flicked to you, then to Steve, then back to you, a silent plea not to say anything more.

Steve, on the other hand, still looked perplexed. 

“What?” you asked, turning back to the sink and rinsing your hands of the small amount of blood that had smudged across the skin during your brief inspection.

He hesitated, rubbing the back of his neck. “Nothing, I just, uh…” His face twisted slightly like he regretted speaking at all. “I’ve never heard you laugh before. It surprised me, that’s all.”

That stopped you. Cold. The smirk slipped from your face like it had never been there. Classic Steve Rogers. World’s most well-meaning bastard. Saying the worst possible thing with the purest damn intentions.

You hadn’t exactly made yourself the most approachable presence on the team. You kept your distance, never bought into the ‘team bonding’ crap that Stark and Fury constantly tried to shove down your throat. You weren’t here for friendships but to do a job. But something about how he said it—I’ve never heard you laugh before—grated deep. Like your silence was an affliction. Like you were broken because you didn’t play nice like everyone else.

Without thinking, you flicked water in his direction.

He flinched back with a slight grimace. 

“Thanks, Rogers,” you said, bone-dry. Then you turned, walking away without another word.

You could faintly hear Steve’s voice, panicked and confused, coming from behind you as you pushed the door open.

“What? What did I do?” he called to Bucky, his voice trailing.

“That was painful,” Bucky muttered loud enough for you to catch. “You always tell women to smile more, or is that just your opener? Remind me how you bagged Sharon talking like that—”

“That wasn’t what I was saying—!” Steve protested, his words quickly swallowed by the sound of the door snapping shut behind you

But it didn’t matter.

Because the truth was, you probably would laugh more if life hadn’t spent the past few years making sure you forgot how. If it weren’t for how every genuine emotion now felt like an act, something you wielded like a weapon to get what you wanted. The only time you really smiled or laughed anymore was on missions, tools of the trade. Smile here, flirt there, manipulate, mislead, vanish. You could fake it all like second nature, charm so convincing it fooled even yourself sometimes.

Because when it was real, it still felt like a lie.

You stalked back into the gym, trying to push the thoughts aside. Yelena’s sharp eyes caught yours almost immediately. “We’re going to the bar after this. You coming?”

You reached for your gym bag, slinging it over your shoulder without missing a beat. “No,” you answered flatly, prowling to walk toward the door.

“You’re not coming?” Kate had appeared from nowhere at your side, big blue eyes staring up at you.

You glanced down at her, deadpan. “Can you even go? Aren’t you like twelve?”

Kate’s begging expression melted into a playful glare, hands on her hips as you hesitated by the door. “No! I’m in college. I’m not a kid!”

You raised an eyebrow, her defensive tone amusing you. “How old are you?”

“Twenty-two,” she shot back, almost proudly.

You grinned, leaning against the doorframe. “Ah, barely legal.”

“It’s fine, she’ll be with us!” Yelena chimed in, giving you a pleading look. “Nat is coming, the others too, maybe Kate can buy Bucky a drink as an apology for breaking his nose—”

“Hey! I didn’t break it!” Kate protested, then looked up at you with a fearful expression, voice dipping in volume. “I didn’t, did I?”

You rolled your eyes, leaning in dramatically as if giving a speech. “I can already see the headline: ‘Avengers Drunken Antics on Public Display’—.’”

Yelena scowled at you. “It’s fine!” 

You smirked, but the exhaustion from the past few hours still weighed heavily on you. “You’re probably right. I can’t say much, in Russia we had vodka with breakfast.”

“So you’re coming?” Yelena asked one last time, sounding hopeful despite your resistance.

“No.” You said it with finality.  “I’ve seen too much of your face today. I need a break.”

Yelena raised an eyebrow, but Kate was already heading towards her bag with a skip in her step. “Fine! More for us then!”

—

The training room was unusually quiet without Yelena’s smartass remarks ricocheting off the walls. Usually, the three of you trained together in the early mornings, but she and Kate were off on some covert infiltration upstate. Childs play for Yelena, really, though she’d taken her duties as a mentor for her little pet project rather seriously. That left just you and Natasha circling each other on the mat. You weren’t exactly thrilled about Yelena’s absence, which meant you were facing the full brunt of Natasha’s wrath alone. What didn’t help was that you hadn’t slept properly in days. You were running on fumes, and it showed. The last week had felt like one long string of wipeouts, each one dragging you down further with no sign of relief.

You ducked beneath a lazy strike, half-hearted at best, and swept your leg toward Natasha’s ribs. She blocked it with her shin like she’d barely noticed.

“Sloppy,” she remarked.

You threw a punch, weak and lazy. Natasha easily caught your wrist, spinning your body and throwing you to the mat. The impact knocked the air out of your lungs. She didn’t even break a sweat. She let out a short laugh, her hair spilling into her face as she looked down at you, amused.

But something was off.

Not in how she fought—no, that was as sharp as ever—but in her expression. Tight-lipped. Smug. And not her usual brand of smug, either. This was different, like she was sitting on a secret and absolutely itching for you to notice. She had that look again. The same one she’d had for the last two weeks. A silent challenge. An arrogant knowing. A game of cat and mouse neither of you had been willing to finish.

You groaned, deciding to cut your losses and pushed yourself off the mat, wiping sweat from your brow.

“There’s obviously something you want to say to me,” you muttered.

Natasha didn’t even pause. She moved in for another strike before you could fully recover, but you caught her forearm and twisted. She resisted effortlessly, that infuriating calm grin spreading across her face again.

“Nope,” she said. “Just… pleased, that’s all.”

“Pleased about what?” you asked cautiously.

Natasha pivoted out of your grip like water slipping through your fingers and swept your legs out from under you with a sharp hook of her foot. You hit the ground again with a dull thud. She didn’t bother offering you a hand up as if half-convinced you’d stay down.

“That I figured out your little secret before everyone else.” Her grin turned vicious. She started to circle you again, tone sing-song and entirely too satisfied. “Took me a while, but once I saw it, I couldn’t unsee it.”

You rolled up to your feet, levelling her with a look. “What secret?”

You played it cool. Innocent. But you both knew the gig was up. Natasha was like you, trained to spot what others missed, to read the body language no one else even registered. She’d probably clocked you and Bucky the moment you returned from the Gala. She and Yelena hadn’t exactly been subtle about their hunches, either.

She raised a brow. “Oh, come on. You’re really going to make me say it?”

You blinked back at her, expression blank.

“You,” she said, dragging the word out. “And Barnes.”

You deflected with a snort. “Yelena’s theories getting to you?”

“Don’t lie.” Natasha rolled her eyes. “He’s always making those puppy-dog eyes at you when he thinks no one’s looking.”

You barked a laugh, catching her off guard just long enough for you to swing a low kick her way. She dodged it neatly.

“Puppy-dog eyes? I can’t imagine it.” You lied through your teeth. “He always looks like someone kicked him while he was down. That or the brooding.”

Natasha’s smirk sharpened. “And you’re into that? He must be a very good fuck if you’re sticking around this long.”

“We haven’t…” You hesitated with a curse, missing a beat in your footwork. You shook your head, willing your mind to be able to focus on two tasks at once through the haze of fatigue. “Why would I want to fuck Barnes—”

“Considering our line of work, you’re a terrible liar sometimes.” You scowled at the amusement dripping from her voice. 

“It’s not like that between us.” You relented. “Not that it’s any of your business anyway—”

She cut over you, tilting her head. “You’re telling me you two haven’t had sex? God, don’t tell me it’s romance—”

“I’m just helping him feel normal.” You snapped back, hoping to shut her down before it got worse. “H.Y.D.R.A fucked him up, that’s for sure. The same way the Red Room fucked us up.”

Natasha made a face like something had clicked into place in her mind. “Shit.”

Your stomach dropped, movements stuttering as you realised you had unintentionally opened the floodgates. 

“Right,” she murmured, and something about her tone shifted. Not her usual brand of teasing. “You’re not… Never mind.”

You lunged toward her on instinct, catching her wrist with a clumsy grip. The contact was unsteady, your fingers didn’t have the strength they usually did, and Natasha didn’t fight back immediately.

“What?” you asked, eyes narrowing.

“Don’t worry about it,” she replied too quickly, too carefully.

“You’ve said it now,” you pressed, breath short. “Go on.”

She hesitated, her jaw ticking as her gaze drifted down, avoiding yours. The tension in her body softened by degrees, like she’d been carrying the thought for too long and finally decided it wasn’t worth holding onto.

“I just…” she exhaled, slow and controlled, “I worry about you sometimes. I hope you’re not taking on too much.”

You blinked at her, the fog in your head thick and sluggish. “Why do you say that?”

“You know what I mean.”

You knew what she meant, even if it was a truth you’d been hiding from yourself. A truth you didn’t want to look at too closely out of fear of it consuming you whole. A dull ache formed your chest, a lump in your throat as you shook your head. 

You knew Natasha wouldn’t have had any way of knowing those forbidden words you’d uttered to Bucky, the ones he had missed as sleep had pulled him under, the thoughts that haunted you now that you had finally shown them acknowledgement. You felt sick. Rotten to your core. Like maggots and rot festered within, wriggling and twitching beneath the skin, just enough for you to pretend, smile, and continue like normal as your world shattered around you.

“I’m not some broken little girl, Nat,” you said, heat rising behind your words. “I can look after myself.”

“I’m sure of that,” she said softly, and it was the softness that rattled you most. Natasha didn’t do soft unless it mattered. “But… can you look after yourself? Or have you just isolated yourself for so long that you’ve tricked yourself into thinking the only person you can trust is yourself?”

Her voice, the quiet honesty of it, landed harder than any blow she’d dealt all morning.

You looked down, your fists trembling faintly. You flexed your fingers, opening and closing them like the answer might be written in your palms.

“I’m fine.”

She didn’t argue, but she didn’t believe you either. You could feel it in the silence between her breaths. Natasha never spoke unless she meant it. She was always calculating like you.

“I just…” she said, the words tentative like they were being picked up and examined before they left her mouth. “I don’t want to see you hurt.” 

She paused, then added with a wry twist of her lips as if to soften the blow, “Or Barnes.”

You snorted, the sound bitter and short. “Since when do you care about Barnes?”

“I don’t,” she said. “Not really. But if he gets attached and this doesn’t go how he hopes, he could spiral. And if you get attached and he panics…”

“I know.”

And you did. You knew it too well. The thought had curled up behind your ribs and sat there, heavy and unwanted, gnawing at you whenever he looked at you like you were something soft. Like you were safe. You didn’t feel like a safe option. 

“Just…” Natasha’s voice was quieter now, more cautious. “Don’t lose yourself trying to fix him.”

You met her eyes, forcing yourself to stay grounded. To not waver. “I’m not damaged.”

Her expression didn’t shift, but you saw how her brow pinched, the subtle twitch at the corner of her mouth.

“You know what I mean,” she said.

You sighed, the weight of your exhaustion peeling every word from your throat like it didn’t want to come willingly. “I’m also not trying to fix him. We’re just… friends. With benefits. Nothing more.”

She gave a slow nod like she was willing to accept that on paper, but in her gut, she wasn’t buying it.

“Okay,” she said finally. “I’ll believe you. Just… don’t go all radio silent on me like you do. I’m here for you, you know?”

You raised a brow, trying for humour but lacking the energy to pull it off entirely. “You getting all sappy on me now?”

“Never.”

“Sure sounds like it.”

“Hm. Maybe.” She swiped the back of her hand across her brow. “But don’t tell Yelena. She’ll rip me to fucking shreds over it.”

Despite yourself, you let out a faint, tired laugh.

But it only lasted a second before Natasha lunged again.

You weren’t fast enough this time—your sluggish body didn’t catch up to the signal your brain sent. Her leg swept yours, and the mat slammed into your shoulder before you even realised you were falling. Pain flared, dull and heavy, and you lay there. Breathing hard. Staring up at the ceiling like it might offer you some kind of answer.

Natasha hovered above you, arms crossed loosely, her expression unreadable.

“Seriously,” she said. “When was the last time you actually slept? You look like shit.”

There it was, the usual cool, snide remark to cushion the fact that she truly cared. Like she knew you’d run like a spooked animal if she showed too much kindness. You didn’t answer right away. Just closed your eyes and let the silence stretch.

Natasha let out a grunt, not the least bit impressed.

—

You would have to warn Bucky that if he kept looking at you like that, the two of you were bound to end up in a whole world of trouble. 

It was bad enough that Natasha was on your tail—worse than that—she’d found the bones in your closet, polished them clean, and lined them up like trophies. You knew she wouldn’t breathe a word to Yelena, or anyone else for that matter, but you could feel a future creeping toward you, one where her tongue slipped. Just once. That’s all it would take.

And Bucky? He wasn’t helping. Not with that look. Not when even Steve Rogers did a double take, brows ticking up as if to say really, Buck? 

You were fresh off a particularly gruelling recon mission at Karpin’s club. No fists were thrown, no bullets dodged, but that didn’t make it any less exhausting. Playing the role of an attractive, naïve dancer took more skill than most people realised. You’d spent the last six weeks prying secrets from Karpin’s greasy fingers. Details about his buyers, how payments were moved, anything useful. He never suspected a thing, too high on his own ego to realise the little thing on his arm was gutting him for intel.

Fury had been unmistakable in his instructions—get the buyers first. If they caught wind that S.H.I.E.L.D was sniffing around, they’d scatter like roaches, and the whole operation would collapse. So you played the waiting game. Carefully. Precisely. Night after night.

Now you just wanted a drink. And a scalding-hot shower. Maybe both at once. Your skin felt like it had absorbed the club, cheap vodka, cigarette smoke, and desperation.

You adjusted the fur coat around your shoulders with a groan, trying to ignore how your dress—if you could even call it that—kept shifting against your skin. Yelena had dubbed the coat your ‘mob wife piece’ after finally watching The Sopranos, and the name had stuck. Your heels were the real punishment, though. Tall, unforgiving, and cursed by whatever sadist designed them.

After every recon job, the standard protocol was to turn in evidence immediately—cameras, bugs, audio mics, and a hand-written report. After six hours of playing pretend, you were scribbling in agonising detail while the evidence collection agent across from you gave you a rather pointed, unamused look. You briefly considered banging your head against the desk.

And, of course, Bucky was watching you. Not subtly. No, he was seated in a glass-walled meeting room across the way, surrounded by agents and Avengers, but his eyes hadn’t left you in a while. He looked like a gambler who’d just hit the jackpot. You watched him watching you, and you forgot to be annoyed for a second. He looked... ravenous. Unapologetically so.

The meeting finally broke. Doors opened. Agents spilled out. That was your cue. Evidence was handed in, and your aching wrist is getting no thanks for its service. The agent slid your report into a folder stamped ‘CLASSIFIED’ in angry red ink. You almost laughed. God, the theatre of it all.

Natasha bumped your shoulder as she sauntered past towards the elevator. 

“Better keep loverboy in check,” she muttered in your ear as she passed. Her smirk was wicked. 

You shot her a scowl.

Bucky was in the crowd, still watching. His gaze wasn’t on your scowl, though. It was lower. Tracing the cling of the gold mesh slip dress, the way it shimmered under the harsh overhead lights. Tacky enough for the job. Tight enough to draw attention. It hugged every curve with intent, and though it wasn’t your usual style, you were beginning to wonder if it might become one.

You hadn’t pegged Bucky for the type who’d go wild for glitter and skin, but judging by the look in his eyes…

Thank god for lessons, or he'd be dealing with a very awkward elevator ride. 

“I think I’ll take the stairs,” you replied, more bitterly than you meant to.

Natasha smirked as the elevator doors began to close, her eyes dancing with amusement and just a hint of sympathy. But it was Bucky’s gaze that lingered until the very last second as if he could memorise the sight of you before the doors cut him off.

You turned sharply on your heel and made for the stairs, the ache in your feet be damned. The heels bit with every step, but you welcomed the sting. It was easier to focus on than the heat lingering after Bucky’s gaze.

Four flights up, your phone dinged.

You didn’t have to check it to know. You already had a feeling. Still, a smirk pulled at your lips as you glanced at the lock screen.

Can I see you tonight?

Bucky had taken to modern tech far better than Steve ever had. Where Steve still asked what a GIF was or accidentally created a new group chat every time he tried to reply, Bucky had easily slipped into the rhythm. 

You thumbed out a reply as you rounded the next flight of stairs.

Aren’t you going out for drinks with the others?

Fridays had become a ritual for the team, provided no one was off saving the world or buried in a mission, so there’d be a few rounds at a bar nearby. Laughter. Cheap beer. Temporary normalcy.

You watched the typing bubble flicker to life… then vanish. Then again. And again.

Not my scene.

A pause.

Is that a no?

You grinned, slowing your steps just a little. You could picture him sitting on the edge of his bed, hovering over the screen like the answer might change everything.

You typed quickly.

I’ll come to your room right now if you ask nicely.

You paused in the stairway, hesitating outside the door for the residential floor where all the apartments were located. Your pulse tapped a little faster beneath your skin.

Another ding.

Please?

That was all it took.

You pushed open the door.

On my way.

—

“I want to try something different,” you murmured against Bucky’s skin, your lips brushing the hollow of his throat as you nuzzled into the warmth of his neck.

It all happened in a blur when you stepped through his door. Heels abandoned at the threshold, your coat sliding from your shoulders like a shrug of tension gone loose. Bucky had lasted all of two seconds, long enough for a strained smile and a greeting muttered through clenched teeth before instinct took over. His hands found your waist. Your back. Your thighs. And then you were in his lap as he stumbled backwards onto the bed, the mattress giving under both your weight and the familiar gravity that always pulled you toward each other.

Mumbled apologies about the scent of alcohol and sweat were lost beneath kisses, the air thick with the smell of him—black coffee from his meeting and that damn aftershave—as you melted into your usual spot atop him.

His rough palm ghosted up the back of your thigh in lazy strokes, the pads of his fingers brushing skin like he already knew it by heart. You blinked up at him, studying the angles of his face, searching for that tell-tale flicker, tightening of his jaw, a furrow between his brows, anything that indicated hesitation or worry. But there was none. Instead, he caught your eye, the touch of vibranium fingers cool and featherlight against your cheek.

“Last time you said that,” he murmured with a low chuckle, “you blindfolded me.”

“And it worked, didn’t it?” You cut back rather smugly, only to be met with a reluctant hum of agreement. “I want to talk about something first.”

Bucky stilled, alert now in that quiet, observant way of his. “What’s that?”

Your fingers toyed with the fabric of his shirt. “Are you afraid of me touching you?”

He blinked, surprised. “No? Is this a trick question—?”

“Do you like me touching you?”

“Yes.” His answer came easily, without hesitation.

“But you don’t like me touching your cock.”

That gave him pause. The stroking of your thigh faltered. There it was, his jaw ticked, the smallest tension rising between his brows like a storm cloud forming just behind his eyes.

“I don’t…Isn’t that what we’ve been doing these past few months?” His voice was low, cautious.

“You let me touch you near it,” you said gently. “But if I move my hand under your waistband, even just a little, you freeze. You ask me to stop. I just want to know why.”

His throat bobbed with a hard swallow. He stared at the ceiling instead of at you, like maybe the answer was written there if he looked hard enough.

“There’s no wrong answer,” you whispered. “I’m not upset. I’m not trying to push you. I just want to understand. To help.”

He exhaled slowly, brows knitting in thought. 

“It’s overwhelming, I think,” he said finally. “The added…feeling. On top of everything else that’s already happening.”

“So,” you said slowly, “if it happened in isolation. Nothing else, just that, you’d feel more comfortable? More in control?”

He nodded once. “Yeah. I think so.”

You hesitated, then asked softly, “Would you be okay with trying today? Right now?”

His eyes finally met yours, a flash of vulnerability behind the steel blue. “Putting me on the spot here, doll…”

Doll. That was a pet name you wouldn’t look too deeply into. Or acknowledge. He didn’t even seem to notice he had said it.

“You can always say no,” you reminded him softly. “That’s the most important rule, always. Either of us can stop at any time. No questions, no pressure, no hard feelings.”

He was quiet momentarily, gaze flickering between your eyes, searching for something. Then he nodded once, steady.

“Let’s do it.”

You paused, holding his gaze. “Are you sure?”

A small smile tugged at the corner of his mouth, a touch wry. “I trusted you when you blindfolded me, didn’t I?” he said, voice low, rough around the edges. “I don’t see any reason not to trust you now.”

That was all the encouragement you needed.

You slipped off his lap with ease, sinking onto the floor between his knees, the hem of your dress bunching up around your thighs. You blinked up at him expectantly, steady but unhurried. Bucky hesitated, shoulders tensing as his hands hovered uncertainly at his belt. A flicker of embarrassment was behind his eyes, the kind he hadn’t yet learned to hide from you.

You didn’t comment on it. Didn’t tease him for the blush creeping up his neck, or for the way his fingers fumbled slightly as he undid the buckle and began peeling off the layers. You just waited—quiet, patient, allowing him to find his own pace. You didn’t point out the irony of it all, how easily he’d unravel for you, but how nudity still brought hesitation. Like showing skin was somehow more vulnerable than offering up his soul.

His boxers were the last to go, and by the time he slid them down, he was already half-hard, his cock flushed with arousal. The pink tint on his cheeks deepened as his eyes darted away from yours.

You tilted your head, shifting closer until you were kneeling between his legs. The warmth radiating from his thighs drew you in like a hearth. Your hand brushed lightly over his knee in reassurance, and he twitched at the contact.

“You okay?” you asked softly, your voice more hum than a question.

He nodded, but it was too tight, too instinctive.

You paused.

“Need to hear your words, Bucky. I’m only going to do this if you tell me you’re okay.”

There was a beat of silence, his vibranium hand clenching in the sheets beside him.

“I want this,” he said, voice low but certain, even if his body still trembled faintly beneath you.

You held his gaze for a moment longer, reading the tension in his shoulders, the way his chest rose and fell with shallow breath.

“You remember what to say if you need to stop?”

He nodded again, more grounded this time. “Yeah. I remember.”

Satisfied, you reached out, your fingers wrapping gently around the base of his cock. You were cautious at first, letting your touch linger without pressure, just the soft drag of skin against skin. A strained groan left him almost immediately, the muscles in his thighs tightening on either side of you.

You glanced up at him through your lashes, watching his face twist with the sensation. His jaw slackened, mouth parted, eyes nearly fluttering closed as you began to stroke him. Slow, deliberate, careful. He was thick and heavy in your hand, already pulsing with anticipation, growing harder by the second. You shouldn’t have been surprised. Not after the nights spent grinding into each other, his arousal pressed tight and insistent through layers of clothing, but still, the reality of him was enough to stir a wicked spark behind your smile.

You pumped him a few more times, watching how easily his composure began to slip. He was already squirming, breaths ragged, his abdomen twitching every time your palm slid down to the base and back up again.

His head fell back, a quiet whimper escaping him as you thumbed over the slit at the head of his cock. He flinched from the contact, one hand flying to your elbow and gripping it like an anchor, his whole body responding to the jolt of pleasure like he’d been struck by lightning.

“How do you feel?” you asked, voice low, almost teasing.

It took him a moment to answer. His lips parted, trying to form words while his chest heaved, his eyes glazed over with ecstasy. A drop of pre-cum beaded at the tip, and you collected it with your fingers, spreading it down the shaft to ease your rhythm.

“Good,” he finally gasped. “Amazing. Did it always… I don’t remember it feeling—”

His words dissolved into a sharp gasp as you leaned forward and kissed the tip. The contact was featherlight, but it shattered him. His metal hand shot up into your hair, not to pull or direct, but to ground himself, trembling as if the sensation threatened to lift him right out of his skin.

“Oh my god—” He began to whine.

You giggled softly, the warmth of your breath enough to send him over the edge.

Bucky came with a choked moan, his hips jerking as thick, hot ropes spilt over your chin and neck. His thighs trembled with the force of it, his head thrown back as if he couldn’t bear the weight of pleasure crashing through him. You stroked him through it, gentle and slow, coaxing every last pulse from him while he tried and failed to string thoughts together.

As he collapsed back against the mattress, boneless and dazed, you ran a hand up the inside of his thigh, using it as leverage to push yourself upright. His grip on your hair slackened and fell away, his hands lying limp beside him, fingers twitching faintly in the aftershocks.

“I’m gonna clean up,” you hummed, leaning down to press a kiss to his temple. “Don’t move. I’ll be right back, okay?”

He didn’t even open his eyes, just nodded, lips parted, breath still ragged.

“Okay,” he mumbled, voice thick and warm with lingering arousal. “I’ll be right here.”

—

It took only a few minutes to freshen up. You moved on muscle memory, warm water, damp cloth, and a quick sweep of your hair from your neck. You paused before leaving the bathroom, grabbing a clean towel in case he wanted it. 

But when you stepped back into the bedroom, you found he’d already taken care of himself, his boxers pulled back on.

Bucky was sprawled across the mattress like he’d melted into it, a sheen of sweat still clinging to his collarbone. He looked wrecked—in the best way. Hair tousled, chest rising and falling in a slow, almost dazed rhythm, but his gaze sharpened the second it landed on you. A lazy, crooked grin tugged at his lips as he lifted an arm in a silent invitation, eyes still half-lidded and blown wide with the afterglow.

You climbed into bed beside him, the weight of his body shifting as you curled into the space between his arm and chest. His skin was warm against yours, the hum of his heartbeat steady beneath your cheek. You pressed a soft kiss to the curve of his jaw, and his breath hitched as your hand slid over his stomach.

His mouth found yours not long after, lazy and unhurried like neither of you wanted to break the spell. It didn’t stay that way for long. Hunger crept in. Familiar, greedy heat as his mouth parted and his fingers tangled into your hair, tugging just enough to make your breath catch.

And then… you felt him. Again.

Your thigh brushed his hip, and you stilled. Then pulled back, brows arching in playful disbelief. “Already?”

The question hung in the air like a teasing note, half-smirk, half-curiosity.

Bucky’s eyes dipped, lashes fanning over flushed cheeks. He looked momentarily abashed as if he’d been caught red-handed, though the evidence quite literally pressed against your leg.

“It’s the super soldier serum,” he mumbled, the corner of his mouth curling despite himself.

You tilted your head, amusement rising. He was trying to play it cool, but the slight flush on his ears gave him away.

“Oh?” you drawled. “And how exactly did you come to that conclusion?”

His fingers scratched lightly at the back of his neck, a classic tell.

“Steve said something once,” he offered, deliberately vague.

You blinked. Your smile widened, slow and predatory.

“Steve?” you echoed. “You’ve been talking to Steve about this?”

“No!” His protest was immediate and rushed like a man trying to stop a landslide with a broom. “Not exactly,” he amended quickly. “He was talking about Sharon, I guess.”

A laugh bubbled up, and you bit your bottom lip to stifle it, your hand resting lightly on his chest. You could feel the way his heart kicked beneath your palm. Nervous, flustered. Bucky Barnes, caught in the act of oversharing.

“Sharon, huh?” you said innocently, voice tinged with mischief.

His eyes narrowed slightly, catching the shift in your tone. “What?”

“Oh, nothing,” you said airily, pretending to inspect the stitching on the pillowcase behind his head. “Just something Yelena said the other day.”

Suspicion flickered in his gaze, but you forged ahead.

“She thinks Steve wasn’t as innocent as we all pegged him. Something about spotting him and Sharon… in a compromising position.”

Bucky snorted, turning his face into your shoulder to muffle the sound. “I wonder what they’d make of this.”

“Oh, I’d never hear the end of it,” you groaned, flopping onto your back with theatrical flair. “They’re already circling like vultures, trying to interrogate me about the gala.”

He shifted beside you, propping himself up slightly on his elbow to get a better look at your face. “And what did you tell them?”

You hesitated. Just long enough for the silence to tighten.

There it was, the flicker of guilt behind your eyes. You could feel it rise like a slow tide in your chest, swelling into your throat. You should tell him. About Natasha’s uncanny perception, the way her gaze had cut straight through you like a knife, and how you’d cracked under pressure with barely a word from her.

But you didn’t. You weren’t sure how he’d take it. Knowing someone else was privy to this—this, your quiet little secret.

“Nothing,” you said, soft but firm, hoping your smile would mask the lie.

His expression didn’t shift dramatically, but you saw his brow furrowed slightly—a quiet sharpening behind the eye.

“Nothing?” he repeated.

“I just…” You sighed, turning to face him properly. The pillow dipped beneath your cheek. “I figured you didn’t want anyone to know. I didn’t want to make things messy.”

He was quiet. His gaze flicked to the ceiling, and when he spoke again, his voice was lower. “Yeah. It’s probably for the best, isn’t it?”

He didn’t sound entirely convinced by his own words, and you didn’t feel entirely convinced either. 

“It’s up to you,” you said eventually. “Everyone’s image of me is already… well, damaged.” You let out a soft, bitter laugh, fingers twisting idly in the edge of the sheets. “I’m sure this will hardly ruin my reputation. But yours…”

“That seems unfair,” he said, brows drawing together.

“What does?”

“The way they treat you.” Your breath caught slightly, unprepared for its bluntness. You looked at him, and he met your gaze head-on. No hesitation, no irony. Just honesty, raw and unvarnished. And before you could piece together a response, he spoke again. “Do you always do that? Make yourself smaller for other people?”

The question landed like a stone in your gut. You froze, eyes searching his face, almost disbelieving.

He hadn’t said it unkindly. But it lodged deep.

For a moment, you were tempted to laugh it off, to deflect, to be clever. Anything to avoid the sudden, unexpected vulnerability that cracked open inside you like a fault line.

Had he been watching you this whole time? Not just looking, but seeing? Had you been too busy circling Bucky to notice that he circled you in return?

You smiled weakly, wanting to fill the dreadful silence that had settled over the both of you. “I could say the same for you.”

His hand slipped around your waist, pulling you flush against him again. You could feel the weight of him against your hip, the heat building between you again.

You let your nose brush his. “Still something to do with the serum?”

Bucky smirked, lips brushing yours. “That… and you.”

You exhaled a breathless laugh, but something about the way his thumbs moved, slow circles against your ribs, made the warmth curl low in your belly again. The mood was shifting. Building. You could feel it.

And then his voice turned quieter. Uncertain.

“I feel bad,” he murmured.

You blinked, drawing back just enough to see the look on his face. 

“Bad?” you repeated, confused.

“For not…” He gestured vaguely between your bodies. “Returning the favour.”

You reached up, brushing your thumb along the line of his jaw. His stubble rasped against your skin.

“Bucky,” you said gently, “you don’t have to do everything all at once.”

He frowned, and you could tell he didn’t quite agree. Always so ready to shoulder weight that was never meant to be his. Always prepared to give more than he thought he was allowed to take. He carried guilt like it was just another one of his old injuries that could never quite be healed.

“I don’t want to overwhelm you,” you added, quieter now. “With information. Or… expectations.”

His eyes searched yours. “But I want to learn.”

“There’s a little more involved in getting a woman to orgasm,” you said, but your tone light as you tried to shake off the weight of his gaze.

“It doesn’t have to be… I just want to make you feel good.”

God. He said it like it mattered. Like you mattered.

Your resolve crumbled.

You rose slowly, coaxing him to sit up with you. Straddling his hips felt natural now, like returning to a familiar place. You took his hand gently, guiding it up over your shoulder over the thin gold strap of your dress.

“Okay,” you murmured. “Then help me take this off.”

His fingers moved with care, grazing over your skin, catching the strap between his thumb and forefinger as he began to ease the dress down your arms. The fabric slid away like a sigh, pooling around your waist, revealing the strapless bra beneath.

You felt him falter, brow furrowing in confusion. “How does this…?”

You turned around on your knees, back to him. “It unclips at the back,” you murmured, sweeping your hair over one shoulder to expose the delicate line of your spine.

“Just three hooks. Here.” You reached behind you, fingertips brushing the clasp.

His fingers met yours, searching as he followed your instructions. A breath escaped him, soft and shallow, before he found the hooks and gently undid them one click at a time.

The tension in your shoulders eased just a fraction. “There you go.”

His hands hovered, uncertain now that your bare back was before him like an empty canvas. You tossed the bra to the floor and reached back, guiding his hands to your waist, then up, encouraging him to cup the full weight of your breasts. He was hesitant at first, the pads of his fingers a little stiff, a little too tense. The contrast of warm flesh and cool vibranium sent a delicious shiver spiralling through you, eliciting a long, satisfied sigh.

That sound seemed to break whatever restraint he was clinging to. His grip shifted, confidence blooming. He began to knead and explore, thumbs brushing experimentally over your nipples. When a vibranium finger flicked one with the barest touch, you let out a soft whine, your back arching to press yourself flush against his chest.

“I think I like this,” he murmured, voice husky at your ear, breath fanning warm across your skin.

You let out a breathless laugh, turning slowly to face him again, your balance steady in his palms. His hands slid down to anchor you at the hips.

His gaze lingered, not just on your chest, but on your face. Like he was still processing, still memorising. Desire curled in your gut, a heartbeat between your legs. You fought the urge to reach down, to chase the friction your body was begging for.

Bucky leaned forward and kissed you again. Something in him had shifted. He wasn’t following anymore. He was moving with intent. And when he gently rolled you back onto the pillows, his weight settling above yours, your breath hitched.

You tried to ignore the instinct curling tight in your belly. Tried not to let the familiar feeling of being beneath someone stir that old panic. Like the walls might close in around you. Like control was slipping just a little too far out of reach.

His mouth trailed kisses down your neck, across your collarbone, between your breasts, and you squirmed ever-so-slightly beneath him. His tongue flicked out to taste your skin, a soft sound of satisfaction humming against you. He licked a rough stroke over one of your nipples as if it were a primal instinct.

You groaned, one hand gently scratching across his back, the other through his hair. His knee slotted between your thighs, parting them easily, the gold fabric of your dress bunched at your waist. Only a thin slip of lace remained between you. He didn’t look down. He didn’t need to, his lips were still worshipping your chest.

His vibranium hand curved over your knee, pushing you open further, his hips grinding lightly into yours, and that flicker of alarm surged. Too strong to ignore.

You moved fluidly before it could root itself. With practised grace, you flipped the two of you, rolling him onto his back and straddling his hips in a single, breathless motion. He made no protest, just let out a pleased groan as his hands found your thighs.

You exhaled slowly, grounding yourself in the present. In him. His wide eyes blinking up at you, still caught in the moment.

He didn’t notice the shift. Didn’t ask why you took control again.

And you were grateful.

As you steadied yourself above him, he sat up suddenly, arms sliding around your waist. His mouth pressed a slow kiss to your sternum. He looked up at you, lashes fluttering, nose brushing the curve of your breast.

Your breath caught in your throat.

As he pressed another kiss to your skin, you realised—without a doubt—that maybe this was the single most erotic moment of your life.

Not the act, not the heat of it all but him. The way he looked at you. The gentleness in his hands. The trust humming beneath his skin like a live wire. The way your name might’ve been forming behind his teeth, even if he hadn’t spoken it.

You sank your hands into his hair and pulled him closer.

You were still tangled in each other, the heat between your bodies humming like static, when the apartment door swung open with an easy, unthinking click.

“Hey Buck, you sure you don’t wanna come out with us—?”

The cheerful voice stopped cold. 

Steve.

---

hello! i no longer have a taglist because it got too long and was reaching the tag limit. if you want to keep being notified of my updates please follow @artficlly-updates and turn on post notifications! i'll only be reblogging on there <3

Steve: *makes fun of Bucky*

Sam: *joins in*

Steve:

It’s only not cheesy when it’s bucky

Stranded at Christmas

Avengers Bucky

A/N - I crammed as many "Christmas tropes" into this story as I could!!! This basically could be a Hallmark Christmas movie!! Enjoy!

Summary: You're stranded in a small town with Bucky over Christmas. What do you do?

Content warning: Language, grumpy x sunshine, one-bed trope, fluff to the fullest.

"So we're stranded here then?" you asked the phone you had a death grip on. 

"Pretty much" Steve's voice sounded from the other end. 

"No jets are available, and the weather is bad from here to where you are" 

Bucky let out a groan. 

"Just stay there and we'll come and get you when this is all over"

"How long do we have to stay here?" you asked looking out the car window. 

"Dunno. Storm is a big one. From the visibility and size of it, maybe not for three or four days" 

"What?" yelled Bucky over your shoulder. 

You cringed at his voice. 

"So we'll miss Christmas at the compound?" you asked. 

Steve let out a deep sigh. 

"It's looking like it, but it won't be so bad you guys. At least you have each other?" 

Steve tried to help but you let out a huff. 

"Fine" 

"Fine?" Bucky gasped. 

His stomach knotted with the information Steve was saying. He did not under any circumstance want to be stranded anywhere, especially with you, alone. 

"Well, what are we going to do? Fly home? In case you missed it you, and I both can't physically fly. Airports are closed, trains aren't running and I'm not driving another mile in this white out" you waved your hand out to the window of the car you were in. 

The streets were covered in snow and the wind was howling something fierce and travel was not advised. You had managed to find this small town on your way back to the compound and had to pull over to contact Steve to tell him about the weather.

Bucky was annoyed. All he wanted to do was get back to the compound, pour himself a drink, and sit in the dark. He hated surveillance missions with a passion of a thousand stampeding elephants and this one was long and boring, ending only a few hours ago. 

Bucky had to accompany you, the rookie, on your first surveillance mission and he wasn't happy about it. Well, he thought you were impressive, but he wasn't impressed he was out on a mission let alone it being so close to Christmas. A Christmas he was looking forward to for once in his life because of you. 

You were way to cheerful and polite for him, he wasn't sure how to handle you, but he secretly liked you. You seemed to be immune to his gruff and grumpy self and that only intrigued him further. Combine that with the training he did with you and now this mission, he was having a hard time staying away from you. 

He's just lucky you came across this small town on your way back instead of being stranded on the side of the road in a blizzard. The surveillance mission turned out to be a bust, you had to leave immediately, and Bucky was able to hot wire a car to get you out of there.

"Ok fine Steve. We'll check in with you in a day or so" you huffed out. 

"Good. There's an inn a few blocks from where you are." Steve's voice came through the phone. 

"Ok. We'll talk to you later Steve" Bucky nodded, and you ended the call. 

"May as well go to the inn" you said, putting the car in gear while it trudged through the snow, putting the failed mission behind you. 

It was two days until Christmas, so you decided to make the most of it. As Steve said, you were lucky you weren't alone as that would be so much worse since you love Christmas and everything the holiday has to offer. You were bummed you wouldn't be at the compound for your first Christmas there, but you sucked it up and decided to make the most of it, even if you were with the Grinch.

You stood outside the inn Steve mentioned and took it in. 

"Mistletoe Inn" you and Bucky both read out loud making you chuckle. 

There were Christmas lights of every colour on the outside of the building with two trees on either side of the front entrance. There were Santa's pasted on the windows with reindeer, sleighs, snowmen, and elves making it festive and fun. 

"This whole place gives me North Pole energy" you giggled, walking towards the door of the inn. 

Bucky grumbled something but followed. You checked in and were told it was the last room the inn had.

You walked up the stairs with Bucky following carrying the duffle bags before you stopped in front of a large wooden door that had a gold plate on it. 

"Kringle Suite" you read before you opened the door.

The room had dark green and red plaid wallpaper, a roaring fireplace, small brown love seat, a fluffy white rug that was in front of the fire, a large pine armoire, but the thing that stood out was a very large king-sized pine sleigh bed, right in the middle of the room. 

"Is there another bed?" asked Bucky. 

"I don't think so" you checked out the rest of the room. 

There was a large bathroom and closet, but no other bed.

"You can have the bed" Bucky grumbled while he tossed the duffle bags on the love seat. 

"Where are you going to sleep?" you put your hands on your hips and looked at him. 

He gestured to the floor, and you rolled your eyes. 

"You can sleep in the bed Bucky, we're both adults and this bed is huge." 

Bucky looked over at the bed. It did look comfy with the fluffy Christmas pillows and soft blankets. 

"Fine" he turned to unpack his bag. 

"What are we going to do then?" you flopped on the bed and put your hands up behind your head. 

"This" Bucky sat down on the love seat in front of the fire and watched it. 

You rolled your eyes at him. 

"I'm going to change and explore the town a little" 

"In this weather?" Bucky looked over at you. 

"Yeah? It's not that bad, the wind died down and I have my boots!" you smiled brightly at him. 

"Are you coming then?" you asked.

You changed out of your shoes and into your boots, flinging your coat on.

"Fine" Bucky grumbled, putting his boots on, and doing up his coat. 

He couldn't leave you to wander alone in an unfamiliar town even though he knows you can handle yourself. He'd never forgive himself if something happened to you.

You both walked out of the front entrance of the inn and wandered the town, looking at the different window displays. 

"This town really goes all out for Christmas" you noticed while looking through the window of a bakery. 

The window had all the treats presented, with a Christmas tree, complete with train, music, and lights. Your stomach rumbled. 

"Come on" you dragged Bucky inside. 

You looked at all the festive goodies on display and bought a small box of pastries to snack on. You continued on your way, looking at the businesses and came to the town square where a tall well lit Christmas tree stood like a large beacon welcoming visitors and townsfolk the holidays. You smiled to yourself, at the sight. On the other side of the tree, there was a decent sized hill that led to a pond with a skating trail. 

"We can go skating and sledding! Well, once they clear it again from the snow" you beamed. 

Bucky grumbled something about his back hurting, so you rolled your eyes at him. 

"Come on Bucky, we may as well have some fun while we're stuck here" you scolded him. 

He glared at the snow hill and the few kids who were brave enough to be out playing. The wind had died down considerably from earlier, so it was just a snowy day. 

"Come on!" you headed back to the inn with your box of treats and a grumbling Bucky behind you.

🎅🏻❄

"So" you eyed up the bed. 

Bucky was sitting in front of the fire, relaxing on the love seat. 

"What?" he looked over at you. 

You cleared your throat. This was awkward.

"What side do you want?" 

Bucky gave you a look. 

"Doesn't matter to me" he shrugged. 

You eyed up the bed and jumped in. 

"This one's mine then" you chuckled to yourself, trying to relieve some tension. 

"What do you want to do tomorrow, Bucky?" you asked from the bed. 

"Call Steve and get the hell out of here" he muttered. 

"Bucky, you heard Steve. We're stuck here for a few days. We may as well relax and enjoy ourselves. I saw there's a market downtown. There's skating, and sledding too." You reminded him. 

He didn't reply so you looked over at him. His deep blue eyes were focused on you. You blushed a little.

"I thought we could you know, do some of those things? We have nothing else to do" you quietly added. 

"Fine" Bucky sighed. 

You smiled at him. 

"Ok. After breakfast then, we'll explore. Goodnight, Bucky" you said, turning off the bedside lamp leaving him sitting on the love seat.

🎅🏻❄

You woke the following morning with a heavy feeling on your chest. 

What the hell? 

You opened your eyes and there was a black metal arm flung over your chest and a softly snoring Bucky at your side. 

Huh. He's a cuddler. 

This was new. You didn't hate it. 

You didn't peg Bucky for being a cuddler, but you weren't complaining. 

He must have creeped over to your side throughout the night. You listened to Bucky sleep for a little bit, giggling at his snores and movements. He wouldn't want to know he looked adorable all snuggled up, he'd be mortified you were watching him sleep. You didn't want to disturb him, so you gently moved his heavy arm to the side while you stretched then got out of bed to shower and get ready for the day.

"Come on, let's go" you grabbed his arm and escorted him out of the dining room after finishing breakfast. 

You came across the large Christmas tree in the main centre of town and saw the outdoor market set up. 

"Look" you ran to the booths to see what people were selling. 

Bucky trudged behind you and watched as you looked at everyone's wares and chatted with them. There was baking, knitting, crafts, and jewelry that sparkled in the mid morning sun. You were always so outgoing and friendly, Bucky admired that about you. He noticed you took a long look at a sparkly snowflake necklace from a booth but reluctantly put it back and smiled at the seller. 

You moved on to another booth when Bucky got an idea.

"Come on Bucky!" you dragged him to the freshly cleared ice-skating pond. 

"I can't skate" he frowned at the skate rental booth. 

"Neither can I!!" you chuckled. 

You got your skates and put them on at the benches that were set up. 

"Come on" you took Bucky's hand and walked him to the pond. 

The two of you looked like two newborn baby fawns with your awkward limbs flailing all over the place but you managed a lap around the pond. You did slightly better than Bucky who inched his way around the pond with wide eyes and his nose scrunched up in concentration, while kids weaved in and out of your path. You took Bucky's hand in yours and you could have sworn he blushed, but it must have been from the cold air while you made your way around the pond. 

"That was fun!" you huffed out while sitting down to take your skates off. 

"It was ok" Bucky shrugged while he tugged off his skates and changed into his boots. 

He smiled a little that he got to skate with you.

🎅🏻❄

"Sorry guys, roads are still closed, and the jets won't be available until the afternoon of Christmas Day, so I'm afraid you're stuck there for a little longer" came Steve's voice from the phone. 

You had him on speaker so both you and Bucky could hear. 

"That's fine Steve, thanks for checking in with us" 

"We'll celebrate Christmas when you guys get back"

"Promise me Sam won't eat all my cookies?" you asked, and Steve chuckled. 

"He's already in the emergency tins from the freezer" 

"Damn it Steve" you groaned. 

"Language!" both you and Bucky rolled your eyes at Steve.

Before you left for the mission, you baked your face off and filled three tins of baking and put another two in the large freezer knowing everyone likes your shortbread and gingerbread cookies. 

"I'll call you Christmas morning guys" Steve said before you said your goodbyes.

"So, tomorrow's Christmas Eve" you turned to look at Bucky. 

You were both sitting on the love seat in your suite. 

"Yeah" Bucky nodded. 

"I saw there was a Christmas Eve dance if you want to go?" you shrugged. 

Bucky thought about it. Did he want to go to a dance with you in an unfamiliar town? God no, but he didn't want you to go alone. 

"Fine"

You smiled brightly at him, making him feel melty on the inside. The longer you stayed in this town, the more he was falling for you. 

"I think we can find something to wear at the general store in town. I'll charge it to Tony's card" you jumped into the large bed. 

"Night Bucky" you turned over and pulled the covers up to your chin. 

"Night" he said from the love seat.

🎅🏻❄

You woke the following morning, which was Christmas Eve, with Bucky snuggled to your side. His arm wasn't over you, but he was right up against your back. You could feel his breath on the back of your neck making you shiver. You were sad you only had one more night with Bucky but were happy with knowing you'd be home the following day. Spending this time with Bucky has made the two of you closer, and his grumpiness seems to be fading with each day you're together. 

"Morning" you said as Bucky stirred slightly. You thought he stirred but his arm came out and gripped you close, pulling you to his large chest. 

"Oof" you said while he snuggled in further. 

You tensed up a little because you could feel every hard bit of Bucky against your body and, well, he was hard all over while you blushed your face off. It has been some time since you've been with someone, and this was making it difficult for you to concentrate. 

You don't think Bucky likes you, plus, this is kind of a normal thing with guys, right? 

You cringed a little with your lack of experience with men. If you were more experienced and bolder, perhaps you could have helped him with his "situation", but you just sunk a little deeper in the covers.

 You liked Bucky, but you were certain he wasn't interested in you. Right? 

"Bucky? We should get up; it's Christmas Eve and we need to get some clothes for tonight" you whispered. 

"Mmph" he mumbled into your back. 

You wiggled from his grasp and turned to your back. 

"Come on, breakfast is on" you poked his side before getting out of bed, grateful to put a little distance between the two of you.

You walked into the general store and immediately went to the ladies' clothing section while Bucky took off for the men's. You were searching the racks when you saw a simple short cranberry red dress with long-sleeves and a bit of beading detail on the neckline. It will be perfect you thought to yourself while bringing it to the change room. You tried it on, and it fit like a glove while you moved around in it. You changed back into your other clothes and wandered the store in search of Bucky.

Bucky ended up getting a dark grey dress shirt he could pair with his black jeans. You tried getting him to buy a suit jacket, but he wasn't having any part of it, so you gave up. In your eyes, he would look good wearing sweats and a t-shirt, but you wanted to dress up a little for the town's holiday party. 

Bucky wasn't one for dressing up and liked to keep his clothes simple and basic as he usually wore layers of shirts and hoodies. You made it back to the inn with your purchases when you saw a bunch of kids head to the large hill with their sleds in tow. 

"Bucky?"

"Yeah?" you walked up the stairs. 

"Can we go sledding?" 

You opened the door to your room and flung the bag on the love seat. Bucky scowled at it. He was much tidier than you as he carefully unpacked his shirt and hung it. 

"Fine" he rolled his eyes. 

You saw a message from Steve saying they have a jet confirmed for Christmas day in the afternoon, so you showed Bucky. You replied to Steve you would be waiting at the co-ordinates and to have a Merry Christmas before you changed into your sledding clothes.

You stood at the top of the hill holding onto a sled with Bucky at your side. 

"I don't know about this" he mumbled. 

Kids were laughing and joking with each other while they piled on their sleds and took off down the hill. 

"It'll be fun. Come on, you've jumped out of planes and everything. It's just a little hill and a piece of plastic" you tapped his arm.

"Here" you put the sled down and got on. 

"Sit behind me" you waved him over. 

He sat behind you, putting his legs on either side of your body so you were wrapped up in him. It felt nice before you grabbed the side of the sled and pushed yourselves down the hill. 

Bucky tightened his grip on your sides while the speed picked up, causing you to let out a squeal while you raced down the hill, giggling and laughing like the kids. 

"Oh my god!" Bucky yelled as you came to a stop in the deep snow at the bottom of the hill. 

You turned and looked at him and smiled. He was smiling brightly, and his cheeks were rosy from the air. 

"That was so much fun!" you giggled while flopping out of the sled. 

"Come on!" you waved at him, helping him up and running to the hill to go again.

You and Bucky went down the hill a few more times, each time faster than the other while you laughed and cheered. You hadn't had this much fun in a long time, and you were happy you were doing it with Bucky. You seemed to soften his gruff exterior and were glad he was loosening up. 

"One last time!" you called before flopping down on the sled. 

"Ok doll" Bucky said in your ear, making you shiver. 

He hugged you tight as you took off down the hill, giggling and yelling. The sled must have caught an edge as it tipped over when you got to the bottom, rolling to the side, dumping you and Bucky out of it. You laughed hard as you rolled into the freshly fallen snow as Bucky came to a rest on top of you. 

You both were laughing at your spill when you noticed Bucky stop. You stopped laughing and saw him stare into your eyes. His eyes were a bright blue as they scanned your face, settling on your lips. You were both breathing heavy, and Bucky's hand reached out and brushed some snow from your cheek. He looked between your lips and eyes and smiled. 

"Umm, we should...go..." you whispered. 

"Ok" Bucky said, getting off you. 

What the hell is happening? Bucky is your friend, right? 

You returned the sled and made your way back to the inn to get ready for the Christmas Dance.

🎅🏻❄

"Wow, you look...beautiful" Bucky whispered as he saw you walk out of the bathroom. 

"Yeah?" you did a little turn and smiled, pleased with your purchase. 

"You look good too" you pointed at Bucky's new shirt. 

He smiled and patted his chest proudly. 

"Here, I have something for you" Bucky reached into his duffle bag. 

"I was going to give this to you tomorrow, but I think you'd like it now" he handed you a small box. You took it and smiled. 

"Thank you, Bucky" 

You opened the box, and your breath hitched a little. It was the snowflake necklace you saw at the market. 

"But, how?" you smiled at it, taking it out of the box and holding it to the light watching it sparkle. 

Bucky shrugged 

"I have my ways" he smirked. 

"Here, let me help you" he pushed your hair aside and helped you put the necklace on. 

"It's lovely, thank you" you smiled at him in the reflection of the mirror. 

"Since we're giving gifts, here" you walked over to your bag and pulled out a wrapped box. 

"I was going to give it to you tomorrow, but...you can have it now" you blushed a little. 

Bucky took the box and opened it. He pulled out a dark brown leather journal that had his initials embossed in gold on it. 

"Wow Y/n, this is nice" he thumbed through the blank pages. 

You know he writes a lot in his journals and when you saw this at the market, you had to buy it. The worker at the front desk helped you co-ordinate getting his initials on it. 

"I thought you'd like it" 

He looked up at you and smiled wide. Bucky rarely offered smiles but when he did, they were amazing to see. 

"Come on" you held your hand out to him, and he took it.

You entered the community hall where the Christmas Eve Dance was being held. The room was spacious, and it was festively decorated with Christmas lights, red and green tablecloths, trees, and even fake snow. You grabbed a drink and stood off to the side, watching the locals and visitors mingle. 

"This is nice" you smiled at the crowd. 

Bucky nodded while he sipped his drink. The music played carols and there was even a small part where the local school sang a few songs. You watched the smiling parents take photos and videos of their kids. You sipped on your drink when you noticed Bucky put his down. He wiped his hand on his pants and turned to you. 

"Would you like to dance with me?" he asked. 

You looked at him and blushed. 

"I-I'd like that" 

Back at the compound, Tony had lots of parties and gatherings. You normally stayed off to the side, being a rookie and all and watched from the sidelines. Bucky was usually with Steve, but he was often at the back of the room, observing just like you.

You walked to the dancefloor and Bucky held you in his strong arms. No one in the town seemed to recognize you or notice Bucky's arm so you were glad about that. That was the last thing you needed was to have people surround you and ask questions you didn't know how to answer. 

"I like this song" you said as made your way throughout the dancefloor. 

Bucky dipped and turned you, making you laugh and giggle, it was the perfect distraction for not being at the compound for Christmas. He knew you were disappointed you would miss your first Christmas there, and he wanted this night to be special for you. The dance came to an end, so you made your way back to the inn for one final night.

You were getting ready for bed when you notice Bucky was already laying down. He had his hands above his head while he watched the ceiling. You got into the bed and let out a sigh. 

"Bucky?" 

"Yeah?" he turned to face you. 

"I'm glad you were here, with me, even though we were stranded" 

Bucky thought about it. 

He thought about spending time with you over the past few days, then the mission. 

"Me too" 

"Really?" 

"Yeah doll, really"

Thank god the lights were off so Bucky couldn't see your red face. 

"Oh, we HAVE to get the rest of the group together and go sledding" you giggled, and Bucky chuckled. 

"Whatever you want" he smiled. 

Bucky noticed you still had your necklace on as he reached over and played with it in his hand, toying with the chain and fiddling with the pendant. He did this and it sent shivers down your back. He moved a little closer to you and ran his thumb up to your cheek before he leaned in and softly placed a kiss on your lips. 

"Goodnight doll, Merry Christmas" he whispered. 

You were paralyzed. Bucky's kiss paralyzed you to the point where you couldn't move properly or talk so you just gave him a small nod. 

Yeah, this was the best Christmas ever, even if you weren't at the compound with the rest of your friends, this was so much better.

me the first time i tried edibles- “i think i’m going to die”

Spicy Brownies

18+ 

High Bucky x reader 

Remember Spicy Plants ? Here’s spicy brownies. Welcome to another crack fic. 

Imagine the first time Bucky tries edibles. He knew they would hit differently than smoking but he didn’t think much would happen so he had another. Then another. He was a super solider so he’d be fine. So he had one more. 

He was fine.

He was totally and completely fine. 

“Y/N!”

“Y/N Y/N Y/N!!”

“Oh my GOD!”

You and Steve sat in the living room, giving each other panicked looks hearing Bucky yelling from your shared bedroom. You both sprinted to the elevator and ran down the hall, bursting through the door, unsure of what was going on. 

“What is it Buck- oh my god” 

“What the hell…” Steve blinked, slowly backing away while you cocked your head to the side, observing a very naked Bucky looking at the mirror. 

“He nakeyyyy” Bucky whispered, staring at himself in the mirror wide eyed, cupping his own cheeks in utter shock. “Y/n, there’s a naked man in our room” 

Keep reading

i can’t even oh my god 😫

An Experiment in Jealousy

Summary: You decided to try and make Bucky jealous. Now, you would pay the price.

Genre: Self-indulgent porn without plot tbh, lol

Warnings: slightly rough sex, dirty talk, slight!daddy kink, unprotected sex

Length: 2k

Bucky was the first man to ever make love to you. And boy, did he do everything right. He loved to pepper kisses all over your skin, worship your body, whisper I love yous and I'm so lucky to have yous against your mouth as he thrust into you slowly every night, eyes locked with yours as you both reached your climax.

Sometimes, less often, he would fuck you. When you had a fight and the inevitable make-up sex happened, or when you were just in one of those moods and ripped off his clothes with such ferocity that he just knew what you wanted, or when you told him outright that you wanted it fast and hard instead of gentle and slow.

Tonight, you knew what you wanted. You wanted him to use you, to own you.

And so you had spent the whole night flirting with Steve, playing it in such a way that just about bordered platonic without being too outrageous, but just enough to get Bucky ticking. This, coupled with how you had absolutely iced your boyfriend out all night and instead spoken to Steve with laser focus, would absolutely get you what you wanted. You were certain of it.

You watched Bucky from the other end of the bar to discreetly observe his reactions, his leather-gloved hand wrapped around a beer bottle, the other one lifting up to brush against his lightly stubbled jaw as he observed you. He took a sip of beer, his eyes piercing, and you could tell he was gently seething.

You suppressed a smile. Jackpot.

------ x ------

Bucky all but slammed you against the door of your shared apartment as soon as you had closed it, pressing up against you firmly as you gasped at his sudden movement. His hands framed either side of your head, body trapping you in place as you stared up at his icy blue eyes.

"Is that how you want to play, doll?" He murmured, gritting his teeth as your chest heaved against his.

"Bucky, please," you whimpered, not even pretending to be coy. You knew that he knew exactly what you were playing at, and now it was time to cash in.

"Please, what?" Bucky all but snarled, cocking his head to the side as you blinked at him.

"I need it. Need you."

"So desperate for my cock, are you? You want me to fuck you like the slut you are?" Bucky asked, eyes flickering down to your mouth.

His words sent delicious chills down your spine, arousal shooting straight to your core. Your hands grasped his leather jacket, moving to peel it off, but his hands were lightning. They wrapped themselves around your wrists and held them back against the door with a gentle thwack.

"No," he said sternly. "You need to be punished."

Your pussy was practically dripping. You were so wet that you were almost convinced he would be able to smell your arousal soaking through your panties.

"How are you going to punish me, daddy?" you asked in a faux-nervous voice, feeling his hard-on through his jeans already, heavy against your inner thigh. You knew he liked it when you called him that.

"On your knees," he said in his deep, authoritative voice, eyes daring you to object. His tone was void of his usual gentleness. Tonight, he meant business.

You sank down to the floor as he worked at his belt, unfastening the piece of leather and letting it snake to the floor.

"Take it out," he instructed.

You reached out and unzipped his jeans obediently, looking up at him with large, innocent eyes. You touched his bulge over his boxers as he sucked in a ragged breath, unable to hide the effect you had on him despite himself.

Tugging down the waistband of his underwear, his cock sprung free, thick and heavy and red, the velvety head waiting to be sheathed inside your mouth.

"Suck it and make daddy feel good," he commanded, his fingers lacing themselves through your hair.

You didn't need to be told twice. You opened your mouth and wasted no time in swallowing up his cock, his length barely fitting inside your mouth, but you tried your best. You relished the taste of him, the slightly salty tang of his pre-cum, urging yourself to take him deeper and farther down your throat no matter how your gag-reflex protested at the intrusion.

Your eyes teared up as he began to gently fuck your mouth, his hands tugging on your hair without the actual force to hurt you, but encouraging you to take more and more of him into your mouth.

"There's a good girl," he grunted, head rolling back in pleasure as you served him, your mouth forming a suction around his fat cock, your tongue gliding up the length of his dick as you released him with a pop.

Your eyes were wet as you dived in again to taste him, so addictive, enough to make you feel so fucking horny.

For a good five minutes, the only sounds filling the room were his dirty praises and the gargle of you choking on his cock. Eventually you couldn't hold in your needy whines any longer.

"Please, can you put it inside me?" you begged.

"Mmm. I don't know if you deserve it."

Panic flashed briefly within you. Bucky had been known to deny you of release before when you had been particularly naughty, and you mewled in protest. You didn't want to be teased tonight.

"Please, I'll be good. Need you inside me. Don't you want to come inside my tight pussy?" You knew exactly what words would make him attack you hungrily like predator on prey.

Bucky snarled and bent down to grasp your upper arms, jerking you upright to your feet. He shucked off his jeans which were still pooled around his ankles and picked you up with ease, bridal style, taking you to the bedroom. He tossed you onto your bed like you weighed nothing.

He shrugged off his jacket and tore his shirt off so he was completely naked, his muscular chest and arms flexing as he undressed. You were still on your back as he crawled onto the bed, positioning himself on top of you, knees on either side of your thighs. You watched as he hitched up the bottom of your dress so it rolled up to your waist, pulling down the neckline so your breasts fell out and presented themselves to him.

"You want this?" He asked, slapping his cock against your pussy through your panties. His hands reached down to grab your tits, squeezing roughly.

"Please, please, please," you chanted like a mantra, hands reaching out for him. You pushed your panties aside with one hand and took his cock in the other, urging him to go inside.

"Needy, aren't we?" Bucky chuckled, biting down on his lower lip. "Tell me what you want. Use your words, doll."

"I want your cock in my cunt," you said desperately, wanting - no, needing to be filled by him. "I want you to fuck me like the fuckdoll I am. I want you to cum inside me, please - Bucky!" You screamed out when he suddenly thrust inside you without warning, without letting you adjust as he entered you all at once.

He bottomed out with a groan, his cock stretching your tight hole.

"Oh god, Bucky," you moaned as he moved with ruthless speed, fucking in and out of your pussy with such force that your tits bounced with every movement. Your eyes rolled into the back of your head as he leaned down and kissed you angrily, tongue sliding into your mouth.

"This cunt is mine," he hissed, punctuating every word with a sharp jerk of his hips. "No one else. You belong to me. Say it."

"I - ah - belong to - ah - I belong you you, Bucky!" you whined, struggling to catch your breath. "Wait, not so fast, please," you moaned as he hit that spot deep inside your cervix with no mercy.

He didn't stop his pace, only moved to prop your legs up over his shoulders to allow him even better access to you, his cock seemingly sinking even deeper into you, in a way that felt impossible. You felt so full, so over-stimulated, you knew you wouldn't last long.

"Not so fast?" Bucky repeated with a humorless laugh, mocking you. "You wanted it to badly before, doll. I'm just giving it to you."

"Ah -Bucky - " tears of pleasure leaked from the corners of your eyes as you struggled to make a coherent sentence.

"Love how you're clenching around my cock. You were made to take my cock, to be filled up by me," Bucky said, the words making you wetter by the minute. "Gonna cum inside you, doll, gonna give you every last drop. Gonna remind you who you belong to. Gonna pound my cock into you until you beg me to stop."

"Daddy, please, cum inside me," you gasped. You could feel yourself reaching your orgasm, that feeling of pleasure creeping up slowly until you found yourself begging Bucky to keep going. "Please don't stop, don't stop, i'm almost there. Please keep fucking me, Bucky!"

A feral noise left Bucky's mouth as his cock continued to dive in and out of your sore pussy, never once faltering. You knew he could feel it when you clenched around him with a gasp, stars blinding your eyes as you came, his name falling off your tongue.

"Oh god," you gasped, heart beating rapidly as Bucky never stopped moving, smirking at your shaking form.

His hands reached down to flick at your clit as you squirmed, too sensitive.

"Bucky, no," you whined weakly, the pleasure too much for you as he continued to play with your pussy all the while his shaft disappeared into your cunt again and again, slick with your juices.

"You can do it one more time, doll, I know you can. Cum for daddy," Bucky grunted.

"Are you gonna cum inside me?" You asked as you felt the burning beginnings of another orgasm slowly stir inside you, biting on the inside of your cheeks to stop yourself from screaming. Your hands made their way to Bucky's neck, pulling him down to kiss you again.

"You're my cumslut, aren't you?" Bucky asked, eyes boring into mine. "Or do you want me to cum on your tits? Your face?"

The image of him painting your face white with his semen was almost too much. Tempting, but you knew you wanted it all in you tonight.

"Inside," you requested, almost begging.

He grunted in acknowledgement, and you knew he was close as he continued to draw circles around your clit.

He sped up the pace, one hand reaching out to grab the headboard behind you, vibranium hand crushing the wood as his hips stuttered. He groaned loudly as he shot his seed inside you, unloading his cum inside your willing cunt.

"Fuck, doll, you feel so fucking good," he hissed.

It was your second undoing at the feeling of him filling you up, and you unraveled seconds after he did, tears streaming down your face at the absolute electric pleasure of it.

He collapsed on top of you, both of you sweating and panting, his lips burying themselves against your neck.

"God, that was fucking incredible," he said eventually, slightly out of breath. His cock was still inside your pussy, and you whimpered at the feeling of him sliding out of your hole as he softened, his cum following suit.

"You're leaking out of me," you sniffed in protest.

Bucky reached down to deftly slide three fingers into your used cunt, inciting a squeal from your lips, a teasing smile on his face as he lifted his head to look at you, challenging you.

His fingers fucked you, fucking his cum back inside, playing with it as you almost sobbed out loud at the feeling. Eventually he withdrew his hand and lifted his digits to your mouth, which you opened automatically.

You licked him clean, the taste of your combined fluids making you shiver with delight.

"Mmm, Bucky..."

You felt your eyes grow heavy as you finally came down from the high, but you could feel Bucky growing hard against you again, his hand pumping his cock to encourage it.

"Doll, we're not even nearly finished yet."