And Suddenly I Wouldn’t Mind Being A Stripper If Bucky Was There.

he’s so cute

if the fates allow

pairing: avenger!captain america!steve rogers x tall!shield agent!female reader

summary: steve rogers accidentally got drunk at the avengers tower christmas party, and you're the one tasked with helping him get to bed. it's a good thing you have plenty of practice keeping your crush on him a secret.

warnings: sexual tension, steve is drunk, reader is conflicted (nothing happens while steve's drunk), feelings are expressed, kissing, sleepy cuddling, i think that's pretty much it!

word count: 2.9k

a/n: here's my december 13 fic for @the-slumberparty's december daze challenge, using the prompt: "I didn't know the egg nog was spiked!" tried to keep this one short and sweet so that i can catch up, so if something doesn't make sense, just ignore it i guess! also this is my first time writing a specifically tall!reader and that was nice since i'm on the taller side 😅 hope y'all enjoy!! ♡

december daze challenge masterlist

“I didn't know the egg nog was spiked!”

Steve Rogers’ voice was louder than it needed to be, and so close to your ear that you winced a little. You kept walking, a massive arm looped around your shoulders while you half-carried the ungodly large body of Captain America and tried not to think about how good he smelled.

Why exactly you had been tasked with helping the very drunk Steve Rogers to his quarters after the Avengers Tower Christmas party was still a bit of a mystery to you. You’d seen Natasha Romanoff and Tony Stark with their heads bent close, like they were conspiring about something, and the next thing you knew, Bruce Banner was asking you to help Steve get to bed.

The phrasing of the request had sent your heart skittering in your chest, even under the less-than-ideal circumstances of its reality. You’d had a crush on Steve Rogers since you’d met him as part of your SHIELD assignment to Avengers Tower, and you liked to think you’d kept it secret from everyone.

But, well, you did work with spies for a living, and you had a feeling Natasha and Tony’s conspiring had something to do with your predicament.

You’d tried to protest Bruce’s request. Sure, you were one of the taller female SHIELD agents, but you were by no means the strongest person on your team, especially when it included Brock Rumlow. But apparently everyone else had gone home or they were helping someone else, and you were the only one who could do it. 

Frank Sinatra’s “Have Yourself A Merry Little Christmas” had been playing from the sound system of the Avengers Tower lounge as you’d made your way over to where Steve lay sprawled across the entire length of a sofa. He was singing along to the Christmas song—loudly and off-key—and nerves and excitement had fluttered through your belly like snowflakes on a winter wind.

You’d shoved your emotions away and put on the professional mask you always wore around Steve, pasting a polite smile on your face as you leaned over him and told him, in a not unkind voice, that you were going to help him get to bed. 

He’d given you a dreamy smile and did his best to help you lift his large body from the sofa while you’d ignored the way the snowflakes in your tummy had swooped at his happy expression and close proximity. 

With one arm wrapped around Steve’s waist and the other holding onto his wrist so his arm wouldn’t fall from your shoulders, you lifted a leg and kicked the elevator call button with your foot, only remembering to check to make sure no one was around after you’d done so. 

Oh well. If you’d flashed someone with the move, the most they’d see under the short skirt of your cocktail dress was the gun strapped to your thigh and the shapewear the tight, clingy garment had required you to wear. Thankfully, no one was around except the super-soldier draped across your shoulders, his head propped sleepily against yours.

“Of course it was spiked, captain,” you said, picking up the thread of the conversation he’d started. Your voice was patient and professional, if a little cold. “It was Stark’s Christmas party—he spiked all the egg nog with Asgardian liquor.”

The doors of the elevator slid open soundlessly and you huffed a sigh of relief as you dragged Steve in. You made sure he was propped up against the corner of the elevator, then stepped away to hit the button for his floor. As discreetly as you could, you wiped some sweat from your brow before turning back to Captain America. 

The expression on Steve’s face drew you up short. He was…not frowning exactly. Was that a…pout? 

You tilted your head to the side, your eyes poring carefully over Steve Rogers’ familiar features—the little pinched line between his brows, the dimmed sparkle of his blue eyes, the protrusion of his lush lower lip. You forced yourself not to linger on his mouth, even though it looked particularly inviting…

Yes, that was definitely a pout, you decided. 

Before you could wonder about what you’d said to garner such a reaction from Steve, he was talking. Or, rather, muttering.

“I don’t like it when you call me captain,” he grumbled.

The elevator was nearing Steve’s floor so you moved closer to him again, ignoring the way your body warmed when you pressed into his side and lifted his arm over your shoulder. The fresh scent of him wrapped around you like the most delicious blanket, and you wanted more than anything to be able to breathe it in until it lived permanently in your lungs.

“What should I call you then?” you asked, mostly to distract yourself from your body’s reaction to Steve. He was drunk, and you needed to get yourself under control.

You tried to pull him out of the corner, but you didn’t have enough leverage and instead of budging the big super-soldier, you bounced back into him, landing against his hard chest with a surprised little “oomph.”

Before that moment, you’d known, in theory, that you were only a couple inches shorter than Steve Rogers. But it was easy to forget because he had such a large presence, and he could very easily toss you around that mats of the Avengers Tower gym with his super-strength. 

However, in that moment you learned that the minimal height difference between you and Steve Rogers had a consequence you hadn’t considered. When you fell against his chest, your face was almost perfectly level with his—specifically, your mouth was almost perfectly level with his. 

You could taste the Asgardian rum on Steve’s breath and the thought of closing the distance and licking it from his lips was far more tempting than it should’ve been.

“Steve,” he rumbled, his arm tightening around your shoulders and hauling you even closer. “You should call me Steve.”

Your soft curves molded to the hard planes of his body and your breath caught in your throat as your mind raced, trying to figure out what he was doing. His blue eyes were dark, even under the bright lights of the elevator, and they were fixed very firmly on your lips—but they were still glazed from all he’d had to drink.

“Steve,” you said, his name soft and tortured as it fell from your lips, your eyes dropping to his mouth. 

You knew you couldn’t kiss Captain America while he was drunk, and you knew that if he tried to pull you any closer, you’d have to push him away. But you wanted so desperately to close the distance between your lips, the desire felt like it might incinerate you from the inside out. 

The ding of the elevator arriving at Steve’s floor brought you back to reality and you jumped away from the super-soldier, shaking your head at yourself as you grabbed his arm and heaved his weight onto your shoulders. You dragged him out of the elevator on stumbling feet, your mind spinning with what you’d almost done—what Steve actually had done.

For all the time you’d crushed on Steve Rogers, he’d never shown any indication of reciprocating your feelings. He’d always been just as professional and aloof as you’d been, and you’d taken that to mean he didn’t have any interest in you outside of work. But you were beginning to rethink your assessment…

Thankfully, Steve remained quiet and well-behaved for the trip down the hall to his quarters, and getting him inside seemed a bit easier after your practice with the elevator. You half-carried him to his bed and it took only a little push to have him sit down on the soft mattress.

Somehow, the movement left you standing between Steve’s spread legs, his arm curled around your waist from where it had fallen off your shoulder. His face was close again—closer than it should’ve been as he looked up at you from where he sat.

“Pretty…” he murmured, the fingertips of his free hand reaching for you but hovering just a hair’s breadth away from touching you. “You’re so…pretty.”

Heat suffused your cheeks and you ducked your head. “Steve,” you whined softly, your fingers wrapping around his wrists, trying to extricate yourself from his hold. “You don’t know what you’re saying.” 

“You’re the prettiest girl I’ve ever seen,” he said softly, your name falling sweetly from his lips. He brushed his thumb over your cheek so gently, it made your knees wobble.

You’d managed to get some distance from him, but the sound of your name made you stop. You looked at Steve, and his eyes were still slightly glazed from all the spiked egg nog he’d drank. 

You huffed a laugh that was sad and humorless. Of course the only time Steve had shown any interest in you, he was drunk.

“Tell me that again when you’re not drunk and maybe I’ll believe you, Steve,” you said, a little forlornly, and pulled his hand away from your face, dropping it in his lap. 

Stepping backward, you broke out of his hold, ignoring the way he was pouting again.

“Stay with me,” Steve said, his fingers catching the tips of yours as you turned away. 

The desperation in his tone halted your retreat. When you looked at Steve again, his eyes were a little clearer, and his expression was pleading. You didn’t know if it was the best idea to crawl into bed with Captain America while he was drunk. 

You were pretty sure he’d fall asleep as soon as his head hit the pillow, so nothing would happen, but you worried about your heart. If you spent a whole night sleeping in Steve’s bed, breathing in Steve’s scent, it would be that much harder to pretend you didn’t have feelings for him. And you couldn’t seem to imagine he had feelings for you, despite what he’d said.

“Please,” Steve said, his voice cracking slightly. His face was washed in the dim light of the New York City skyline filtering in through the windows, and he looked like a work of art come to life, flawlessly gorgeous features and perfectly expressive eyes.

Your heart thumped in your chest, and were helpless to resist his request.

“OK,” you whispered, twining your fingers with his and giving his hand a small squeeze while you smiled shyly. 

Steve beamed happily at you and then flopped back on the bed. A grin was still fixed on his face while he kicked off his shoes and fought to pull down the blankets so he could slide under them.

You bit back a laugh at his gleeful reaction, shaking your head as you went to the bathroom to clean off your makeup and strip out of your gun holster and shapewear. Thankfully, your dress was comfortable enough to sleep in for one night.

When you returned, you found Steve passed out under the covers still wearing all of his clothes. You took a moment to appreciate his handsome features, softened in sleep, and then slipped into bed beside him, leaving plenty of space between your bodies.

It took you a little while to fall asleep, but the quiet, steady snores coming from Steve helped lull you, and eventually you drifted off.

The soft wintry light of the morning sunrise was just beginning to peak over the Manhattan skyline when you roused, your body bathed in a nearly overwhelming heat that came from something pressed against your back and banded around your waist.

It took you a long, groggy moment to realize the source of that heat was Steve Rogers.

At some point in the night, he must’ve moved closer and wrapped himself around you because one of his arms was curled around your waist while his broad chest was pressed flush against your back. You were so close together, you could feel his steady heartbeat against your spine. 

You must’ve shifted even to wake him because you heard the tenor of Steve’s breathing change. He buried his face in the back of your head and took a deep breath before letting out a contented sigh. 

“Pretty girl,” he mumbled, the words muffled and barely discernable. His arm squeezed tighter around your waist, dragging you even further into the wondrously warm cage of his body.

The sound of you sucking in a sharp breath was loud in the silent bedroom and Steve suddenly tensed. Quick as a flash, he removed his arm from around your waist and shuffled back a few inches, giving you space. 

Cold flooded in, even while you were still buried under the blankets, and you had to fight off a shiver. You missed his warmth, but you also needed to understand what was going on. You took a deep, steadying breath and then rolled over, looking at Steve warily. 

He was propped up on one arm, his blond hair mussed from sleep and his cheeks tinged pink from embarrassment. But his blue eyes were clear and curious, watching your reaction with interest. 

“What did you call me?” you asked in a trembling, hesitant voice. It probably wasn’t the first question you should’ve asked, but you had to know if you’d heard him correctly, and if he’d known he was talking about you when he’d said it.

Steve must’ve recognized the uncertainty in your voice or on your face because his expression softened and he lifted his hand, his fingers tracing the air next to your cheek. He was deliberately not touching you, and you had the urge to close the distance and feel his warm contact.

“You said to tell you you’re pretty when I wasn’t drunk anymore,” he said, his voice low and rough with sleep. His eyes had been wandering over your features, like he was trying to memorize the way they looked in the wintry morning light, but his gaze caught yours before he went on. “Well, I’m not drunk and you’re still the prettiest girl I’ve ever seen.”

“Steve.” His name was a soft, desperate sound, your heart racing into a gallop as you tried to process the fact that Steve Rogers thought you were pretty. 

Before your mind had caught up, your hands were moving, reaching for Steve, eager to drag him closer. Your fingers were curling around the lapels of his dress shirt and you caught a glimpse of his crooked smile before you were both closing the distance between your bodies, his mouth slanting to yours for a kiss.

Heat and pleasure filled your body and soul, and you kissed Steve Rogers for the first time, your lips pressed together ungracefully in your excitement. After a few moments of blissful fumbling, you settled into a rhythm that was as delicious as it was delightful, made all the more breathtaking by the way you could feel Steve’s reverence for you in the way he held you.

It was a long time before you came up for air, and when you did, you laughed giddily when you saw the way Steve’s eyes were glazed over, a dreamy smile curling his lips, and you knew your expression matched his. He was drunk on kissing you, just as you were drunk on kissing him.

Steve dropped one last sweet kiss to your mouth and then he rolled you onto your side, tucking you into the warmth of his body while you both faced the windows, watching the sun rise over Manhattan. You were for a moment quiet as you enjoyed being with him, but something still bugged you. 

“I still don’t understand why Bruce asked me to help you to bed,” you said, your fingers playing with Steve’s hand that was clasped in yours. “But I’m glad he did, since it led us to this.” You pressed a kiss to his palm, marveling at how even that part of him smelled fresh and wonderful.

At your comment, Steve made a rough sound in his throat, something halfway between a cough and a laugh. It piqued your curiosity and you turned your head, catching his eye over your shoulder.

“That might be my fault,” he admitted, a faint blush spreading across his cheeks. “I may have confessed to Nat that I think you’re pretty—and she’s been trying to set me up for ages.” 

Suddenly, everything from the night before clicked into place. Natasha and Tony’s conspiring, the way your SHIELD teammates were all otherwise occupied, the fact that Bruce—the least devious, and therefore, least suspicious of all the Avengers—had been the one to ask you to help Steve. 

It was all a very elaborate setup, and you had to feel a little impressed with Natasha, even as you rolled your eyes because it didn’t need to be so complicated. She could’ve just asked if you were interested, and then set you two up on a normal date. Instead, she’d concocted an elaborate scheme, just to get you and Steve alone. 

But you had to admit, it did work…

“You Avengers can never do anything the easy way, can you?” you teased, grinning at Steve over your shoulder. You reached back, fingers twining in his hair and pulling him close enough to brush a kiss to his lips. 

“Now, where would be the fun in that?” Steve murmured playfully against your mouth, kissing you more deeply before settling back down on the bed. 

For the next little while, you watched the December sunrise with Steve Rogers, basking in the feeling of being in his arms while he idly hummed “Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas” in between brushing delicious kisses to your neck. 

You did have yourself a very merry Christmas indeed.

december daze challenge masterlist

Me when y/n is acting like a little fucking child for male validation

I mean sometimes i care but other times….

The truth of it 🤣

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 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."

one more round | b. barnes

pairings: bucky barnes x reader

warnings: smut! 18+ only! this is filthy so lets get to it, bucky fucks you like he hates you, choking, spit kink, light face slapping, spanking, daddy kink, oral + fingering ( r! ) , degrading, praise, squirting, nicknames ( princess, bunny ) , hard breeding kink, cum play, size kink

word count: 1.7k

author's note: part two to hate fuck ! i wasn't going to make a second one until i was re reading it while high and just needed to write hate fucking

Your phone buzzed under your thigh as you were laid out on the couch in your living room. You were waiting for Bucky to get back home from one of the missions he was sent on. It was only for a few weeks, but you weren't allowed to know about any of it until he got back.

Grabbing your phone, you closed your book and set it down on the coffee table, seeing the text from Steve.

Grabbing your phone, you closed your book and set it down on the coffee table, seeing the text from Steve.

Mission didn’t go too well. He’s pissed.

You blushed reading that. You knew Steve was only telling you so you were aware of Bucky’s temper and that it wasn’t about you. But you knew what it actually meant.

You felt a shiver down your spine as you texted back a simple, ‘thanks 4 the heads up’. You locked your phone, setting it down on top of your book as you heard the front door unlock. You sucked in a short breath, as you heard his boot being dropped on the hardwood floor, the metal clinking of his weapons from his vest hanging on the wall.

You set your blanket to the side and got up to go greet Bucky. As you rounded the corner, you saw him turn at the same time and he let out a sigh the second his eyes connected with yours.

“Baby,” He made a few long strides to get to you, stepping over the mess he had created with the clothes pile around him and pushing you up against the door, his flesh hand wrapping around your throat. You grabbed his wrists, letting out a soft moan as his lips crashed with yours, his entire body pressing against yours. 

He pushed his hips into your stomach, feeling his hard cock through his jeans. he let out a soft, ‘fuck’ against your lips as he soaked in the feeling of your skin under his fingertips. He bit down on your bottom lip as his metal hand came to meet your core through the thin material of your shorts. He rubbed his middle finger up and down your slit, occasionally prodding your hole through the material. 

You whined against his lips, feeling like absolute putty in his hands the second he teased your hole. You tried to move your hips to get a little more, but you were met with a light slap on the cheek with his flesh hands. 

“Don’t fuckin’ move, princess.” He grabbed your cheeks, opening your mouth before collecting some spit on his tongue, and spitting onto your stuck out tongue. Your eyes never left his as you took your tongue back and swallowed his spit, licking your bottom lip and sticking your tongue back out again.

“Greedy, aren’t you?” You let out a soft moan as you nodded. He smirked, grabbing your throat against and guiding you towards the couch. He let you go before turning you around and bending you coover the back of the couch. You squealed as you pressed against the tops of the couch cushions as Bucky grabbed your hips harshly.  He dug his fingers into your skin, before tearing the loose shorts off of you in one go, tossing them to the side. 

“You’re gonna take what Daddy gives you, understand?” You looked behind you and caught his eye. They were darkened with lust, a hungry look in his gaze as he slapped your ass with a harsk smack. 

“Dumb bunny already?” He harshly squeezed your ass as you nodded. He laughed, shaking his head as he kicked your legs apart and snak to his knees. He spread your ass cheeks wide, showing your glistening pussy to him.

"Such a whore, going around with no panties. It’s like you were waiting for me.” You let out a soft moan as you felt his hot tongue swipe up through your folds, before circling your dripping hole and going back down to your clit. He groaned against you, keeping your legs spread open, teasing you with his tongue for a little while. 

He couldn’t help it, he hadn’t tasted your pussy in three weeks. It drove him mad knowing that you were here waiting for him. You both had ended having phone sex multiple times when he was able to because he was that obsessed.

And you ended up admitted that you had touched yourself on the nights you didn’t have phone sex. You couldn’t help but touch yourself at the thought of him. It didn’t piss him off, if anything it turned him on even more knowing went against him just for him to fuck your brains out. 

He loved that teasing side of you.

He swirled his tongue back down to your hole before bringing his flesh fingers to your dripping cunt, and pushing two in easily. You let out a moan as he practically drooled at the sight of your pussy taking his fingers so fucking easily.

“Oh, baby… You hear that?” He started to fuck your pussy a little faster with his fingers, and all you could hear was the squelching of your pussy. You let out a moan, nodding as you pushed against him. 

“Hear how fucking slutty you sound? Shit baby…” He kept going, and you curled your toes as you felt your orgasm approaching. You couldn’t help but rock against his fingers as he fucked you mercilessly with his fingers.

“Oh, Buck ‘m gonna cum..” You let out a pathetic moan as you felt his thumb press against your clit as he took himself out of his jeans and boxers. He started stroking himself, spreading his precum over the length of his cock as he fucked you on his fingers faster. You clenched your fingers as you came, moving your hips against his fingers.

“Dripping down my fucking hand, bunny.” You heated up, hiding your face in the pillow as he tsked, taking his fingers from your pussy and standing up, taking off his jeans and boxers all the way, tossing them to the side. He leaned over your bent frame and you felt his cock rub against your dripping folds.

You instantly pushed back against him, wanting nothing more than for him to fuck you. And he knew that, fuck did he know how bad you whined and begged for his cock while he was gone. You were insatiable and he couldn’t get enough.

He grabbed your hair and tugged, arching your back as you felt his chest against your back and the cool metal from his dog tags. Snaking his hand around he placed his two fingers that were soaked with your slick into your mouth and you sucked.

At the same time, you felt him slip inside of you, and you moaned against his fingers, pushing back into him. He let out a breathy moan, tugging your hair hader as he snapped his hips into yours at a quick pace. 

He felt your pussy squeeze him as he fucked into you faster, his lips pressing against the shell of your ear. You felt him smirk against the shell of your ear as he pulled his fingers from your lips and let go of your hair to grip your hips harshly, getting one more harsh thrust in and pulling out. 

He helped you up before tossing his shirt off and tearing off yours, leaving it into the pile around the room. He gripped your hips as you jumped into his arms, his dick sliding right into your pussy as you let out a moan. He hiked your legs up a bit higher than his hips and wrapped his arms around your back so you were folded as he fucked right up into your cervix.

You moaned as he thrusted quickly, his balls slapping against you and you could feel the tip of his cock in your stomach. He was moaning above you as he fucked you, and you couldn’t ever understand where he got this stanima from. He was fucking into you like he hated you.

“Fuck, this pussy if so fucking tight, princess. Take my fat cock so fucking well. Just my little cock sleeve, aren't you?” You moaned, tipping your head back as he pressed his lips against yours, and you squeezed his cock again, feeling another orgasm wash over you. Your nails dug into his back and he moaned into your mouth at the pain, his metal hand holding you as he pulled you away from his body just enough to rub your clit with his flesh hand.

You rolled your hips into his as he moved to the couch and laid you on the pillows, making sure to not let off your clit. The second he set you down with is cock still in your stomach and you were still bent at the knee, you squirted all over his cock, and his abdomen.

“Shit, baby. Did you just fucking squirt?” You moaned as you nodded as he fucked you throough your high, his arms untagnling from your body and your legs dropped. HIs metal hand grabbed your throat gently, not letting up on your clit as he chased his high. You came one more time the second you felt his hot cum spill into your cunt, leaking out and down your crack and his balls covered in your slick onto the couch.

“Can’t let anything go to waste, baby.” He fucked his cum back into you, grabbing a pillow and pushing it under your hips as he rocked his hips into yours. You arched your back as you felt his cock drag against your sensitive walls. He could feel your cunt flutter with each stroke, hearing how wet you sounded as he thrusted slow and deep.

“Gotta make it stick, baby. Fuck a baby into you, huh?” You squeezed his cock at the thought, feeling your face heat up once more as he grinned, leaning down and smashed his lips into yours. He let go of your throat and pulled away, spreading your legs as you let out a groan, your muscles sore. 

Pulling out, he leaned down to your pussy, his eyes connecting with yours as he licked up your pussy, both of your cum on his tongue. You let out a whine, licking your bottom lip as he smirked against you, lashed fluttering against his cheeks as he slurped you clean. He pulled away and came back up to you, grabbing your mouth and forcing your mouth open, and letting the spit from his tongue mixed with his seed and your cum drip onto your tongue. You moaned as you felt it touch your tongue and you swallowed, a satisfied grin spreading on Bucky’s face.

“Good fuckin’ girl.”

I always love a good “there was only 1 bed story line” it’s especially good when it’s an enemy’s to lovers one. But this one just read so good 10/10

5 Times There Was Only One Bed (and the one time there were two beds) | Bucky x Reader | One Shot - 4.7k

Whether it's on a mission, a work event or a holiday, your sleeping arrangements never seem to work out as planned. It doesn't really bother you until...it does. Confronted with a night sleeping apart, you and Bucky finally talk.

Warnings: 18+ for language, suggestive situations and sexism (but not from our Bucky he would never). Also rated F for fluffy and S for snuggling.

Written for the @bucks-and-noble Valentrope event - "there was only on bed" the reigning champion of tropes!

Divider by @firefly-graphics & @reveriesources

Masterlist | Bucky Barnes Fics

Your first mission with Bucky Barnes went really well, until it didn’t. 

After successfully destroying an underground Hydra base you’d returned to your transport in a less than desirable state. 

“Fuck, four flats.” You huffed, poking the tyre with the toe of your tactical boot. 

“Fuel line’s been cut.” Bucky muttered from the front, “lucky they didn’t torch it.” 

Bucky quietly rubbed a gloved hand over his face, before looking up at the admittedly stunning night sky, he seemed to study it for a moment before making a quarter turn to his left and climbing up a ridge of sandy rock. As if dazed you followed him. You could see for miles thanks to the glow of a full moon, the stars dense and glittering above you both. It was almost romantic, if you didn’t have blood on your cheek and an empty gun on your hip. 

Bucky still looked like he could sweep you off your feet though, with his structured tactical vest making his broad shoulders look even wider, his wind swept hair giving him the look of a romantic hero on the front of a paperback, especially with one foot perched on the outcrop of rock above you. 

“Let’s go.” He pointed towards a glow rising from beyond the horizon and you’d started walking, doing your best to keep up with his long strides. You could see the motel, how far could it really be.

As soon as you climbed down the motel vanished and the reality of your trek set in. 

Around hour two Bucky slowed his pace to allow you to catch up. He didn’t speak much, just what was necessary, and sometimes a hello when he saw you around the compound. But he struck you as shy, rather than cruel or rude. He had checked on you after the mission brief two days ago to make sure you were happy with the plans and, when you were left at the drop off zone, had given you a few of his spare rounds. 

You were starting to flag, your steps faltering in the dust and your fingers frozen. Without the sun the desert was so cold the tips of your ears felt like they’d fallen off. Bucky slowed too, cracking a heat pack and handing it over, swapping it for your pack. 

“Thank you,” you whispered, teeth chattering. 

He didn’t say anything, just gave you a tight smile and turned back towards the motel, growing closer with each step. 

Three hours after you’d discovered the flat tyre, you fell through the door of the dingy motel room, exhausted, cold and starving, only to be met with the sight of one queen size bed and a single chair by the window. 

“I’m gonna sleep,” you slurred, unable to manage more than zipping off your tactical vest. You fell onto your back and tried to toe off your boots but they were too tight. Your eyes slid shut and you felt the sensation of Bucky sitting on the other side of the thin mattress, making you roll towards him slightly. His weight shifted and settled, the warmth of his body behind yours comforting after everything you’d seen that evening. 

He smelt nice too, despite the blood and sweat and gunpowder, he smelt like sandalwood and the desert air. It was all you could think of as you drifted into a deep sleep, how much you wanted to press your face into his back and breathe him in. 

The  next morning you woke to find Bucky already showered and dressed, pushing his damp hair back from his face and brushing his teeth while he called Torres for new exit plans. 

Your boots and socks were off, arranged neatly by the door, a coffee steaming on the bedside table.

Despite all the changes a new team had brought, Bucky liked working with you. You were quiet too and didn’t mind when he was silent for almost a whole mission. You were efficient and skilled, but empathetic, always stopping during the fall out to ensure the team were together and protecting civilians whenever you could. 

So it was no surprise to him when you offered to share the bed at the hotel. Sam and Joaquín had long since retired to their room, but you’d both stayed at the hotel bar, silently emptying a bottle of red wine while Bucky continued his 100 Books to Read Before You Die list and you scrolled through your phone, catching up on everything you’d missed during the five day - “phone’s off, and yes, I mean you Agent” - mission. 

As soon as you retired to the room you knew there’d been a mistake. 

“Ah, shit.” You’d dropped your bag to the floor by the door and Bucky had almost walked into your back, peering over your shoulder at the very neatly made double bed. The only bed. 

“Don’t worry, I’ll take the couch.” Bucky had sighed, resigned to a night of lumpy, uncomfortable sleep. 

“There isn’t one.” You pushed your bag further into the room with your foot and Bucky brushed past to survey the space.

“The floor then.” 

“Don’t be ridiculous.” 

“I’m not.” 

“You’re not sleeping on the floor, the bed’s big enough for two, we can share.” 

You’d said it with such easy grace that he’d felt almost insulted that his chivalrous offer was so easily deflected. Then you’d returned from the bathroom smelling like mint and almond oil, your loose pyjamas hanging off one shoulder and just like that, he gave in. 

By the time he’d change and brushed his teeth you were already asleep, holding a pillow close to your chest with your leg well over onto his side of the bed. Carefully he moved you back to your side and slid under the cool sheet next to you. 

He woke first the next morning to find you still attempting to occupy the majority of the bed, your face relaxed and mouth slightly open. Bucky indulged in a moment of quiet comfort before getting up. You wouldn’t want him staring at you, you’d be embarrassed that you were trying to cuddle him and it’d ruin the fragile bond you were forming with each mission. 

By 9am you were both making fun of Joaquín’s terrible hotel bookings over pancakes and coffee. 

“Why can’t we just ask for directions?” 

“Are you seriously asking me that?” 

“Yes?” 

“Because we just crossed a border illegally, we have no papers, no passports, we’re lying low.” 

“They’re hardly going to ask to see our passports, Bucky.” You sighed, hitching your bag higher on your back. 

You’d been walking since 5am that morning, crossing through a forest trail to avoid borders and rendezvous with Torres in a village that should have been a few miles away so that you could evac together. 

5am seemed a long time ago now that the sun was setting. You’d stopped briefly to heat up a can of beans, a “late lunch, early dinner” Bucky had called it, smiling at you over the steaming mess tin you were sharing.

The scalding heat had dissipated now though and you were tired. The memory of his hand touching yours as you ate still lingering. 

“We’re not going to find him tonight, we should stop.” Bucky suggested, “I’ll find a good place to camp.” 

Suddenly you were grateful that Mr Overprepared had packed a tent. 

“Good idea.” You agreed, rubbing your hands together. 

“Well, I will be, you didn’t bring a tent, did you?” He said, walking deeper into the woods, running his foot over the ground, looking for somewhere flat. 

Your heart sank, he was right, you’d laughed at him when he’d attached it to his already full pack and he’d said you’d regret it, a teasing look in his eye. Well. You were regretting it. It had started raining a few minutes before, gentle rain drops that got heavy in each gap between the canopy. You had no doubt it’d be heavier soon though, and with the sun setting you didn’t relish the idea of being wet and cold out in the dark. 

Bucky stopped and turned, lowering his pack to the floor between two large trunked trees and those twinkling eyes made butterflies take flight in the pit of your stomach. A boyish grin crossed his face as he got to work. 

Ten minutes later and the tent was up, strung between the trees and extra protected with some fallen foliage. 

Bucky unlaced his boots and placed them between the inner and outer tent before climbing in, when you didn’t follow he poked his head back around the flap of the tent, patting the unrolled sleeping bag next to him. 

“C’mon, you really think I’d make you sleep out there?” He was almost laughing, and the sound was so welcome, so stupidly content despite your situation, you could barely stand it. 

You squeezed in, using the inner fleece layer from your coat as a blanket. Bucky lifted the side of his sleeping bag. 

“C’mon,” he mumbled, eyes already closed, when you hesitated he tugged you closer until you were tucked against his chest. He rearranged your coats on top of you both until you could feel your fingers again. “Warmer?” 

“Yeah, thanks, Bucky.”

He didn’t respond, his breathing heavy and even, beneath his sweater you could hear the steady thump of his heart as it lulled you to sleep in his arms. 

Bucky hated these stupid events, he’d only been persuaded to come because you’d done those big round puppy dog eyes and said it’d be no fun without him. Joaquín had asked too and, although Sam had joked that it’d be more fun without ‘Mr Grumpy’, Bucky knew he’d only been teasing. 

But it was you that had convinced him. It was those eyes, the way your voice had gone up a little and you’d pouted in that silly way you did when Joaquín took the last doughnut at mission briefings. He couldn’t resist. And he had no idea what to do about it. 

Behind him he could hear another team talking about you, how they didn't understand why you were always working with ‘that asshole Barnes’ so much. 

In the anonymous dark they joked about you, about him, as if you were a reward for a guard dog. A babysitter for his more violent tendencies. Worse, disgusting, accusations about how you'd come by your place in the team. He suddenly missed his mother, she'd have washed their mouths out with soap.

He felt sick. 

Bucky took a long swig from his beer and chased it with a shot of whisky, anything to stop his teeth from grinding. 

They were wrong on so many counts. You were skilled and fearless, soft and fierce at all the right moments. But you didn't care about him, or Sam or Joaquín for that matter. Not in the vile, disrespectful way those men imagined. You didn’t men like them - him - messy, unpredictable, unstable. You didn’t really need anyone. 

But Bucky - he took another swig, trying to stop the swirling feeling in his chest - he cared for you. He couldn't stop thinking about you. And as angry as he was at what he heard, he was equally ashamed for wishing that you did want him. 

He’d been watching you dance with Joaquín and one of your other agent friends for more than an hour now. Your body swaying and rippling in time to the music, your dress ghosting over your hips in a way that made his mouth dry. It was one thing to work with you in army fatigues or go to meetings with you in your casual jeans - the stealth suit had been really pushing his patience recently so he didn't want to think about it - but he could at least keep himself under control while your skin was covered. Then you arrived wearing this dress. The neckline alone made him want to sink to his knees in front of you. 

Joaquín danced away with your friend, you winked at the lieutenant and smacked his ass as he passed - you were definitely drunk. 

Alone you swayed to the music, still in your own world.

“She’s so fucking drunk -” 

“Absolute embarrassment -” 

“Can’t believe they let her in -” 

Bucky slammed his drink down on the bar top and grabbed his leather jacket, stalking across the dancefloor like a shadow, the lights skimming over him. 

You were facing away from him and he couldn’t resist, his hands finding your waist so naturally, his body melting into yours, matching the slow roll of your hips so he could lean into your ear. 

“I think it’s time to go,” he whisper-shouted above the pounding music. 

“Bucky!” You exclaimed, completely ignoring his suggestion, “dance with me!” 

You span in his hands, leaning up and into him, your hands around his neck, twisting into his hair. The little tug you gave sent pleasure shooting down his spine. God he was weak, his body moved without his say so, slipping a leg between yours and - fuck - you were grinding against him. He was lost. 

The song ended, fading into the next as the lights flickered and he regained enough of his faculties to remember you were drunk, very drunk. 

“C’mon, doll, let’s go, I’ll get you some water-” 

“You still here, sweetheart? Don’t you think you’ve embarrassed yourself enough.” 

Was he still here? Fucking asshole. 

Bucky rounded on him, keeping you close with a hand around your waist. 

“You boys having a good night?” You grinned, unable to hear their cruel words over the music. 

You were just so - good, so kind, even when these pricks were trying to tear you down, your first instinct was to be friendly - he couldn’t stand it. 

“I said -” the agent grinned, dipping down, placing his hands on his knees and levelling his face with yours, that patronising glint in his eyes, “are you still fucking here you stupid bitch?” 

Bucky saw red, tucking you under his left arm, pushing you behind his back as he had so many times during missions, and smashing his right straight into the agent’s nose. 

“Didn’t your Ma teach you to speak to ladies with respect?” 

Blood dripped onto the dark dance floor, a circle forming as the other party goers backed away. 

Bucky gave the man one last disapproving look and then his attention was solely focussed on you, leading you out past the crowd until you were outside in the freezing air. He draped his jacket around your shoulders and watched as you snuggled inside. Was he dreaming or did you inhale deeply when he did it? 

“M’sorry, Buck.” You hiccupped, leaning into him, eyes half shut. 

He took your weight gladly, “s’okay, you didn’t do anything wrong, it was those idiots in there.” With staggering steps you made it to the next street over and Bucky said nothing as he unlocked the door. 

“Where are we?” You slurred, your ankles twisting in your heels with each step. 

“My place, I thought you could sober up here while I call you a cab to get you back to your hotel.” 

He settled you on the couch and tried to walk away, but there was a hand hooked in his belt loop. 

“F’got you live in Neewww York,” you closed your eyes, resting your head against his hip as you continued to mumble about ‘the big apple’, he willed himself to breath deeply, he was struggling to keep his body under control. 

“Yeah - what’s your hotel called?” 

“You called me ‘doll’,” you giggled, your fingers closing around his belt.

“I did, sorry, it just slipped out. Your hotel?” 

“Dun worry, I liked it - can I stay here? I sleep here.” You let go, only to curl up on the sofa, your dress sliding up your thighs. 

“Sure.” He sighed. 

Bucky scooped you up again and nudged the door to his bedroom open with his hip, the duvet was still rumpled from the night before. Another night of no sleep, at least it was because of you and not another nightmare. And now you were here, nose pressed into his chest, ready to sleep in his bed. 

“Okay, I’ll be out here if you need me, g’night.”

“Stay.” 

“I’ll be right outside if you need-” 

“Stay.” 

And it was those puppy dog eyes again, the pout, the voice, the hand on his belt. 

Even though he knew you’d sleep like a log, hogging his duvet and encroaching on his space, even though he knew you’d be embarrassed in the morning, probably hungover as hell. Even though, come the morning, he was right. He still had the best nights sleep he’d ever had since he bought the place. 

You hadn’t been this relaxed in a long time, you were sure if you stood up you’d simply melt into a puddle. Sun warm skin, the buzz of a few too many afternoon beers in your system and the sound of laughter as Sam, Joaquín and Bucky continued to try and catch a single fish had lulled you into a half sleep, dozing on the deck of the Paul & Darlene 

“Hey, you want another beer, doll?” 

Bucky’s voice drifted over to you and you cracked one eye open. He’d unbuttoned his shirt half way down his chest, the white cotton sticking to his sweaty, sunkissed skin. He hadn’t been able to drop the nickname since he'd had to rescue you at the gala. Although you'd done your best to keep yourself away. The way his eyes burned into you when he turned your way, the memory of his body imprinted into yours, his leg pressing against you, the shadow of a hardness that made your mouth water. 

He'd been the perfect gentleman, of course. Had made sure you were safe and comfortable, even escorted you back to your hotel in the morning after a huge home cooked breakfast. 

He was a gent. And you were an embarrassment. It ate away at you until you couldn't even look at him. 

“Hmm?” 

“Beer?” He asked again, holding out the bottle, the cap already popped off. 

“Uh, yeah, thanks.” 

He flopped down beside you on the deck, the last of the day fading beyond the horizon and leaving you bobbing in the inky abyss where the sky met the water. 

“You feeling okay?” He took a swig and you watched the condensation on the bottle trickle over his fingers. 

“Oh, yeah, fine.”

“You look dazed, that's all, don't want you getting sunstroke on us.” 

Bucky looked genuinely concerned and you figured, from the sudden sick feeling inside, that maybe your heart had skipped a few beats or flipped over or something. 

“Uh -” Fuck, did he have to leave his shirt open like that? He asked a question, what was it? 

“Are you okay?” He used the back of his right hand and placed it against your forehead, “you feel really hot. Maybe you do have sun stroke.” 

“I’m fine, honestly.” You shrugged him off, but went looking for a bottle of water anyway. 

As the boat made its way back to the dock you watched the lights of Sarah’s house flicker on in the distance. Sam had invited the three of you to stay, taking up all of Sarah’s space and the room on the boat, while her and the boys went into the city for the night. It was a generous offer, one that you couldn’t say no to after months of hard work without a break. 

In the pitch dark you all stumbled back up the driveway, only to find Sarah on the porch. 

“Sarah -” Sam jogged to reach her first, concern written on his brow. 

“I’m alright, Sam, don’t fuss. It’s just Cass, ate too many beignets and threw up so I thought we should come home. He’s upstairs with AJ. Sorry we messed up your plans.”

Bucky took the suitcase from her hands, “it’s your home Sarah, you haven’t messed up anything.” 

She threw an arm around his shoulders and hugged him sideways, a familiar gesture you’d seen her make before, but for some reason your tummy twisted, jealousy stirring. 

“Means we’ll need some rooms back though, I know I said you could all stay but-” 

A chorus of voices filled the air, refusing to let Sarah apologise, before you started to get organised. 

“Well Cass needs his own bed, that’s a given.” You said, worried that the young boy might be ill as well as over excited about his food. 

“Of course,” Joaquín agreed. “Sarah, you’re obviously taking your room too. We wouldn’t ask you to give that up. I’ll go on the couch in the sitting room.” He smiled. 

You looked between your other two colleagues, but Bucky spoke first. 

“Well if Torres’ taking the couch I’m not going to argue, I’d rather be in a bed even if it is on a boat.” He ruffled Joaquín’s hair affectionately and the younger man shoved at him. 

Sam looked at you, “you can take my bed, if you want, I can change the sheets -” 

“I’ll sleep on other sofa -” 

“You’ll share with me, right doll?” 

The three of you spoke at once, and Sarah raised her eyebrows then her hands before opening the front door, “I’ll be in bed, you kids figure this out yourself.” 

“Bucky -” Sam started. 

“Sam - we’ve shared before,” there was a glimmer of hope that glowed inside of you when Bucky stepped closer, his shirt fluttering open again in the breeze, revealing his toned chest and that dusting of dark hair, creeping under the buckle of his jeans. “Besides, wouldn’t be the first time you’ve made us share, would it?” Bucky joked, nudging Sam as they went to collect more blankets and bedding, “what about that hotel-” 

His voice faded until all you could hear were the crickets in the distance, you’d forgotten about Joaquín until he walked past, turning backwards at the last moment so he could see you again, “if you don’t want to share with Barnes…” he let the offer hang in the air and you were torn.

Really, you should protest and ask for your own space. But then you’d missed the sound of his steady breathing beside you, the weight and warmth of him when he turned over into your space. In fact you’d missed him completely, even if you’d been avoiding him on purpose. 

Secretly you hoped the bedroom on the boat would be cooler now the sun had gone down, perhaps he’d hold you like he did while you were camping. 

Sam let you back onto the boat, making sure you had enough blankets for two distinct sleeping arrangements if you wanted. 

Bucky slid into the cool cotton sheets in only his boxers and, shyly, you followed. Expecting to sleep alone you’d packed shorts and a vest, revealing more than you really wanted to considering he clearly didn’t return your interest. 

Bucky kept politely to his side of the bed, his arms awkwardly stiff at his side when he turned away from you. Unable to stop yourself you turned too, watching the strong line of his back relax as his breathing evened out.

The boat bobbed gently, lulling you to sleep. You were vaguely aware of a strong arm tugging you closer, the smell of Bucky’s shampoo and sun cream and the weight of a bed rising to meet you. 

Everything went perfectly, again, until it didn’t. 

Intelligence? Secured. Exit? Executed to perfection. Adrenaline fueled burger stop where Bucky wiped a drop of sauce from your lips exactly as you planned? Complete. Motel booking? Perfect?

You and Bucky stared at the two motel beds. 

In the entire time you’d been working together you’d never really managed it. There were either no rooms, the room was wrong or there was no room at all, just whatever you could find. And now there were two beds and you felt sick and your head hurt and after everything you’d seen and done today the last thing you wanted to do was sleep alone. 

“Doll?” Bucky placed a hand on the small of your back and reality came screeching to a halt around you. 

“Sorry, Buck, I must be really tired, I’m going to shower and get in bed. Do you mind if I go first?” You were already half to the bathroom, the zip down on your tac suit, were you imagining Bucky’s eyes dropping down to where your skin was revealed? 

“Of course, whatever you need, I’ll just be…here,”

After a perfunctory shower consisting of a dribble of hot water that quickly turned into a freezing cold torrent, you returned to the shared room. 

Bucky hurried past, his body brushing against yours in the doorway, firm and muscular, yet you knew that being held by him was soft and warm. You tried not to feel too sad that there’d be no excuse for getting close to him again for the rest of your trip. 

By the time he was finished you were tucked into bed, trying to read the paperback you’d found in the draw because the television signal was terrible. 

He stood in the window, a shadow against the light filtering in through the thin material of the curtains, ruffling his wet hair with a towel, his sweatpants so at odds with the man who’d been by your side just a few hours before. This was a rare sight, one you were privileged to see. 

Bucky tossed the towel onto the chair by the door and then sat on the end of the other bed, watching you read from the corner of his eye. You knew because the last three paragraphs had become a blur of words, your focus solely on Bucky. 

“Maybe we should go to sleep, we’ve got a long drive tomorrow.” 

“You’re right.” 

You both slid down into bed, separately, and you’d never felt so alone. 

In the darkness you could see the shape of him, facing the door with his hand tucked under his pillow, and somehow the darkness made you braver. 

“Would it be weird if I said I missed you?” You whispered. 

Bucky rolled over, but put his hand back under his pillow, no doubt he had something hidden under there, he usually did. 

“I miss you too.” 

You shuffled back, letting the sheets fall further down the bed, “I know you have your own space over there and you probably don’t want to be all cramped up with me, but if you wanted to share still -” 

Bucky was out of his bed before you could finish, slipping under the sheets. He’d taken off his sweatpants before getting into bed, his legs bed warm against your own and you bit your lip, trying to focus on his face and not on his almost naked body just inches away. 

“Hi.”

“Hi, doll.”

“You don’t have to keep calling me that.” 

“What if I want to?” 

He was so close, his breath minty when it ghosted over your lips, his nose touching yours, his long eyelashes making his crystal eyes look brighter. 

“What if I missed you being in my bed? What if I always want to share with you?” He reached his hand out, cupping your cheek. 

“You do?” 

And then his lips were on yours, so soft, his tongue slipping past yours as you gasped. One cool metal hand and one callused, drawing you closer, a leg between your thighs, your bodies rolling together and - “oh, Bucky.” You sighed into his mouth, letting him tug you into him. 

“I - I want that too -” you squeezed out between kisses, “I wanna always - always - be in your bed - I - I always hoped we had too.” 

“You did?” He pulled back, stroking a thumb down your cheek and over your kiss bitten lips. 

“Uh huh, I did,” 

“You been sabotaging us this whole time, baby?” He laughed, his eyes sparkling. 

“No,” you laughed too, turning your head to kiss the pad of his thumb, “maybe I should’ve though.” 

“Maybe,” his hand left your face to cup the back of your neck, drawing you down for another languid kiss. 

“How long?” 

“How long, what?” 

“How long have you wanted -” his question trailed off into another series of featherlight kisses. 

“Since, ugh - Utah?” You offered shyly, embarrassed to admit that you’d been head over heels from the start. 

With a groan he rolled you over, slipping his body between your open legs, his hips settling just right against your own. “Fuck,” he dropped his forehead to yours, “we could’ve been doing this the whole time.” He admitted, lifting his head to smile down at you. 

“Well then I guess we have some making up to do,” you linked your hands behind his head, tangling your fingers in his hair. 

“I guess we do, doll.” 

😩😩😩😩😩

Lakeside Lovers

18+, minors dni

Graphic smut

You're on a walk with Bucky after celebrating a successful mission, outdoor shenanigans ensue.

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

You were never going to wear heels again, dammit.

Your feet throbbed painfully as you walked down the little dirt path behind the restaurant, your hand clasped in a larger, warmer palm.

"You okay, doll?" an amused chuckle came from your fiance.

Bucky had suggested taking a walk after you had gone out to dinner to celebrate yet another successful mission with the Avengers.

It had been a year since the battle between Steve and Tony happened and it had taken some time, but thankfully the team was able to flesh out all their issues.

The same could surprisingly also be said about the conflict with Tony and Bucky, once Tony finally accepted that Bucky had no control over his actions that led to the death of his parents. They were actually on decent terms, almost friends.

"I'm okay, Buck," you said, smiling over at him, refusing to give in to the ache that the black pumps you were wearing gave you. You wanted to look nice for him.

But unfortunately, Bucky know you like the back of his hand.

"Take your shoes off. I can tell they're bothering you. I'll carry them," Bucky offered, but you refused.

"I'm fine, seriously babe. Don't worry." a reassuring squeeze was given to him.

Between work and daily duties, you never really had an opportunity to dress up, and didn't know when you'd get to again.

Bucky cast a doubtful look but gave a, "Suit yourself," before you continued on.

It was a pretty night, the moonlight the only guide on your walk, and surprisingly there was nobody out there with you both.

There was a little lake with a small pier you both wanted to go to, and you knew it was only a bit further before you could sit and dip your feet in the water.

But when your ankle wobbled again a moment later, Bucky sighed.

"That's it," he huffed, before he quickly bent down and scooped you up, throwing you over his shoulder in a fireman hold.

"Bucky!" you squealed in surprise, fingers clutching his jacket.

You never would be used to his lighting quick reflexes.

"James Buchanan Barnes, put me down!" you said, squirming to try and free yourself, but a firm *slap* to your ass caused you to go quiet as you sucked in a breath.

Oh..

Bucky laughed as he carried you for a moment before he stopped.

There were a few benches by the lake, and he soon set you down on one before kneeling in front of you.

"I'm not gonna let you hurt yourself," he said, grabbing one of your ankles and pulling the heel off, carelessly throwing it behind him.

You protested, but he paid no mind as he did the same with the other one, before locking his arms around your thighs and pulling you to sit at the edge of the bench.

His lips landed on your left knee, left exposed by the short fabric of your dark green dress.

"You look beautiful all the time. And I don't want you in pain." he said, blue eyes looking up through long lashes.

Your heart swelled as it did every time he showed you care. You loved this man with your entire being.

Your fingers began to run through his hair, nails scratching at his scalp.

"I love you, Bucky," you said softly, and he grinned, before landing another kiss to your opposite knee.

"I love you too, doll. And since we're alone, maybe I can show you how much," he said, hands playing with the hem of your dress.

Your eyes were wide. You both were adventurous when it came to sex, but you had never done anything in public before.

Oh well. First time for everything.

"Come here," you said, pulling him to sit on the bench by you, your bodies turned to face each other.

You leaned in and wasted no time in kissing him, the whiskey from dinner still sweet on his lips.

The air was warm and the only sounds around you were the sounds of nature, crickets chirping while the water of the lake lapped at the shore.

It was honestly romantic, and you feel your need for him growing.

Your hands, which had started on his shoulders, soon began to trail down over the soft gray shirt he wore under his black blazer jacket.

It wasn't long before you hit the leather of his belt, and he rumbled against your lips as you began to undo it, the buckle clinking.

"I want to taste you, baby" you whispered against his lips, hand finding and undoing his button and zipper before dipping inside, feeling his hard length beneath the fabric of his underwear.

A grunt escaped him as you cupped him.

"Never gonna say no to that," he joked, causing a laugh to escape as you pulled him out, exposing his cock to the night air.

You never would stop being astounded at his size, and you always secretly wondered if the super soldier serum made...other parts superior as well.

You began stroking him, your thumb swiping at his tip now and again to spread the small head of precum, and Bucky's head leaned back, unable to handle the feeling.

That just gave you easy access, and you quickly leaned in, latching your lips to his neck to leave soft kisses, sucking at the crease where his neck met his shoulder before continuing down, down over his muscular torso and down to where he was exposed.

"Fucking hell," he growled as you let your tongue peek out to lick at him.

His hand came to rest on your back where you were bent over kneeling on the bench, and his breathing quickened as you hollowed your cheeks around his dick, sucking at the tip the way you knew he liked.

You could never get enough of his taste. You never really enjoyed giving head with previous partners, but you couldn't get enough of it with Bucky. You craved it sometimes, to be honest.

"Do you like it?" you pull away to ask, grinning up at his flushed cheeks as you let your tongue come out to play against the notch under his tip.

It caused his hips to jolt and he fisted the fabric of your dress, "You know I do," he huffed, his hand pulling the dress up from the back to expose your black thong. You don't usually go for this kind of underwear but you didn't want panty lines to show through the dress.

He certainly wasn't complaining as his hand came down to roam over your ass cheeks, jaw clenching as you got back to work on his cock, head bobbing as he began to play with you.

He grabbed the thin strap of the thong and moved it aside, causing you to let out a hum of anticipation around him as his warm fingers found your soaking slit from behind.

He ran his fingers up and down, up and down for a moment, cursing at how wet you were already.

A finger sunk in just a bit, causing you to shudder as he said, "I fucking love how easy you get wet for me, doll. You're such a good fucking girl."

The finger left, having just gathered some of the wetness and continued it's journey to where your clit was throbbing.

You couldn't help the moan you let out around him as he circled it, and the vibrations caused his thighs to tense.

The both of you continued, the only sounds besides nature being both of your staggering breaths and the sound of slick flesh.

Before too long though, Bucky couldn't take anymore, and he tangled the fingers of his free hand in your hair to pull you away, his other one three fingers deep in your cunt, his thumb continuing to strum at the little nub.

"I need to fuck you before I come, baby." he said breathlessly.

You nodded as you rose to your knees, dress still around your waist and thong pushed over.

He helped you climb onto his lap, hands gripping your hips with bruising strength, and you knew the next morning you would have his fingerprints on you.

You loved it.

Your arms slid to wrap around his neck as you leaned in to kiss him, both of you exchanging breaths as you began to sink down on him.

You had to go slow so you could adjust to his size, but before long, neither of you could stand it anymore.

His hands controlled the movement of your hips, his coming up to meet you as he fucked into you from below.

"Bucky, please," you whined, thighs shaking as you let him have full control.

Your head began to tilt back, the action causing you to push the breasts into his face.

He took the invitation, one hand leaving to pull the straps of your dress down, taking the top with it and exposing your breasts to the air, nipples perked and waiting for the lips that descended on them.

He loved your breasts, and never left them out any time you both were intimate.

His lips wrapped around one nipple as he fucked you, and you could help the small exhalations of "ah, ah, ah" that left you with each bout of stimulation you received.

Nobody had ever been able to please you like Bucky had, and he reveled in it.

Soon, you were both nearly at your end, Bucky's muscles wound up tight and you were moaning uncontrollably, head still tilted back as your fingers were tangled in his hand.

But there was one thing he needed before you finished.

His hand, the metal one, gently grasped your jaw, pulling you to make eye contact with him.

As soon as you gazes locked on each other, you came, shuddering with a moan as your pupils expanded, tears welling in your eyes at the pleasure.

Bucky couldn't take it anymore, and the wooden bench creaked beneath you both as he fucked into you, shivers of overstimulation wracking your body, before he came. You felt the flooding of his warmth in you, and you sighed in relief, leaning down to kiss him.

Moments passed as he softened within you, and you pulled away from his lips, leaning to rest your forehead against his shoulder as you both caught your breath.

"Well, shit," you said, voice a bit hoarse, "that's one hell of a way to celebrate a successful mission."

Bucky couldn't help but laugh. He didn't know what he did to deserve you. But he did know one thing.

He would never let you go.

🤌🏻🤌🏻 bucky is just so 😫

— Wash Away My Sins | B. Barnes

au; mob boss!bestfriend.

pairing; bucky barnes x reader.

summary; bucky barnes is your best friend and also one of the scariest mob bosses in the city. when he finds out that your current boyfriend has never pleased you, he takes it upon himself to show you what you deserve.

word count; 2.7k.

warnings; smut [oral (f), fingering, p in v, bondage (tie around neck), rough sex], language, angst [cheating, confessing feelings], fluff.

Masterlist.

a/n; a repost because tags were down the first time.

Do NOT copy, repost, translate or rewrite my work.

— “and when they finally realized that they felt the same about each other, the stars aligned”.

Bucky smiles when he hears the familiar pattern of knocking on the door. He knows that you are on the other side and that lifts his mood up a ton. “Doll” he sighs when you walk in. 

“James” you speak back noting the white dress shirt he has on paired with black pants and a matching tie.

“How many times do I have to tell you that you don’t have to knock”?

“I'm terrified at the thought of witnessing one of your middays hookups if I don’t” you joke as you grab the glass of whiskey from his desk and slump into the couch infront of it. 

“Sipping whiskey” he reminds you before he closes the file in his hand and gives you his full attention. “I take it you had a rough day”.

“Brutal”. You don’t hesitate.

“Who do I have to kill”? Neither does he.

Having been Bucky’s best friend for years now, you know the mob boss is dead serious when he asks the question. He’s always been protective over you and in a sense, you find it attractive.

“If theres a ‘me’ option i’ll gladly take it” you groan, putting the glass down on the table beside you. 

“What happened honey? Did they ID you downstairs again? Those fucking idiots. I don’t know how many times i'm going to have to tell them that you're free to enter until it gets through-” you cut off his rambleing with a wave of the hand.

“No its not- it’s not that James”. You let out another groan. You arent even sure if you should tell him whats going on. Bucky’s always found your boyfriends to be nothing but bothers. Always stating that they don’t deserve you, or that you could do better, or even as far as to say that he’s the only one who knows how to treat you right. You always dismissed his remaks -espessialy the last one- and thought of them as no more than a good friend being a good friend. After all, theres no way that Bucky feels the same way about you as you do about him. “It’s my boyfriend”.

“Bob”?

“You know what his name is”.

“Billy”?

“Elijah”.

“Whatever” he mumbles walking over to the couch you're on. “What’d he do”?

It’s not what he did, it’s what he didn’t do.

You shake your head, regretting even have bringing him up in the first place. “Nevermind, I shouldn’t even have mentioned it. I know how you feel about him”.

“That he’s a piece of shit who’s never going to deserve you? I was gonna feel that way about him whether you mentioned it or not”. His head tilts to the side when he notices that you have something on your mind that you really have to express. “Come on, doll – talk to me”.

You throw your head back and your hands fly at your face, wiping down it roughly. “It’s so fucking embarrassing though” you mumble into your fingers, looking at Bucky through the corner of your eyes for a reaction. His expression stays neutral. ”Thought we were at the point in our friendship where nothing was embarrassing”. Having to call what the two of you have a friendship almost makes him throw up. But what he has with you only is a friendship, and his hating it doesn’t change the reality of it.

You chuckle, head turning to look at him again. His features are soft and welcoming. Many people in the city wouldn’t be able to say that they’ve seen them on him but then again only you are the person who Bucky can be soft around. “It’s just me. Just your James” he says, as he takes your hand into his. “You can tell me anything”. 

You purse your lips together when he kisses the top of your hand. He really does mean that you can tell him anything because he can’t imagine anything as embarrassing as what you’re going through with Elijah. 

It’s killing you that you can’t tell him. You frown as you remember the time when you and Bucky were on a dinner date and you made him run to a corner shop when you got your period all of a sudden. Or when you were sick for a whole week and Bucky came over to take care of you, not a care about the bacteria he would harness from being around you. Or when he beat up that perv that catcalled you in the middle of the street, almost taking his life had you not been there to stop him. 

Bucky’s been there for you through thick and thin, surely he would be there for you now.

You take a deep breath and turn your body to face him completely.

“Elijah he… He's... He’s never…” Bucky patiently waits for you to spit it out.

“He’s never made me come" you blurt out all of a sudden, eyes snapping shut when you realize what you’ve done. Slowly opening your eyes, you cringe at Bucky’s reaction.

His eyes are squinted, his bottom lip is tugged under his teeth, and his eyebrows are furrowed tight. “I should’ve just shut up” you groan into your hands.

“No! No!” he speaks moving your hands from under you. “I just needed time to process”.

“Okay so…”?

“So I think he’s an ass”.

You roll your eyes as you get up. “See! I knew you were going to say something like that”!

Bucky pulls you back down. This time you're seated closer to him. “No honey like he’s actually an ass. What kind of a guy doesn’t know how to have sex”?

“Well… it’s not that he doesn’t know how to have sex”. Now Bucky’s confused. “He for sure comes. It’s just that he doesn’t make me”.

“That's not sex.” Buckys starts, voice monotone, disappointed that you don’t realize it. “Fucking someone and only making yourself come is doing half the job and half the job doesn’t count. So no, technically he doesn’t know how to have sex”. 

“Fine my boyfriend doesn’t know how to have sex!” you exclaim with your hands on your face again. “It wouldn’t even be a problem but I'm so fucking frustrated”. Sexually, you mean, but you decide that he can piece the puzzles together on that one.  

“I can only imagine” he chuckles. You look up at him with a frown. “Are you seriously laughing at my misery”?

“I mean, I don’t know what you expected from a pathetic excuse of a boy like him”. 

You have had it with Bucky laughing at your taste in men. “You know what James? I’m tired of you laughing at me and my choices so either do something about it or shut up”! A part of you feels bad that you are taking all of your anger out on him but there is some truth to your words. You do want Bucky to do to you what Elijah is supposed to. 

And he jumps at the offer.

He scoots closer to you, flesh hand making its way to hold your face. You melt in his touch. What you’ve been wanting for so long, you were getting. You were getting Bucky. Everything in you to go with it. To take what the universe was giving you but the thought of losing Bucky as a friend overweighed those suggestions.

“James” you breathe. “We can’t”.

“Why not honey”.? Bucky’s voice is low. He knows what you’re thinking “I want you”. His hand cradles your face softer than before but right as his face scoots a bit closer you drop your head to your neck.

His fingers guide you to look up at him again. The other hand moves your hair behind your ear. “James” you breathe out again feeling his thumb brush over your bottom lip. “Tell me you don't want it too baby” he starts, finger running along your jawline. “Tell me you don’t want this as bad as I do”. Your eyelids flutter when his eyes darken. 

“I don’t want to ruin what we have”. As hard as it is to, you turn your face away from him again but just as before his fingers make your eyes meet his again. “We won't ruin anything” he whispers, pressing his forehead onto yours.

“Promise,” you mumble, nose brushing against his.

“What”?

“Promise me that we’ll still hang out, and talk and won't avoid each other like they do in the movies”.

“I promise baby,” he whispers with a slight chuckle. “I promise”.

Hearing that you inch your face closer to his and close your eyes. Your lips collide and it's as if a bomb goes off. All other sounds drop away, all you can feel is his lips against yours, pressing just harshly enough to make you moan into them. He brings one hand to your back, pressing you closer to his body, feeling you fit perfectly against him. The other grabs the back of your head and moves swiftly between you're hair. “Take off your clothes sweetheart” he speaks against you when you give him a segway.

Your hands immediately grab the sides of your shirt and you lift the thin top over your head, tossing it with no care as to where it lands. Bucky pauses to take it all in. God did he adore your body. You start at his lips again as his hands quickly fall to your jeans. You both stand up to make it easier for them to come off.

“God sweetheart” he mumbles pulling the cloth downwards. “Did’ya have this shit tailored onto your body”?

You laugh at his impatience and the way you bite your bottom lip and look up at him through your lashes has him growing frustrated. He finally decides that it’s easier that he just rip them off.

“James!“ you yelp, eyes shot wide. “That was a new pair”.

“Relax” he insists, backing you up to sit on his desk. “After this, I’ll buy you the whole store if you’d like”. And hell does he mean it.

You smile when his lips attach to your neck and hand moves to unclasp your bra. “For now, take off your panties and put these on”.

And you don’t need to be told twice. In no time you’re sat at the edge of his desk, only wearing the dog tags he handed you and the spark in your eyes Bucky loved more than anything.

“You’re so fucking beautiful” he speaks mostly to himself as he drinks the sight of you in.

“James. I need you so bad” you whimper, hand grabbing at his tie and pulling him closer.

“I know sweetheart. I know” he reassures, but instead pulling away and lowering himself in between your legs. 

You shiver when you feel his breath on your core. “Gotta make you feel good first”.

You bite your lip in anticipation and then all of a sudden feel his mouth on your cunt. His lips attach to your clit, sucking like everything depends on it, making one of your hands grip the back of his head and lace through his brown locks while the other grabs onto the desk behind you for dear life.

“James fuck!” you moan when you feel his tongue lap up your juices.

His eyes watch for reactions. Watch as your back arches off his desk and hips push closer into him. “Mmm” his hums send the sweetest of vibrations to your core making you hook a leg on his shoulder. He pulls the other one up too knowing that you're not going to be able to support yourself in a bit. “Oh shit! Feels so good…” you trail off when your vision starts to blur and the knot in your stomach starts to tighten.

When seeing you clench around nothing, Bucky thrusts two fingers into you and watches as your head is thrown back again, pleasure coursing through your veins.

"Good girl, just let it all out" he speaks, face detaching from you and coming up to meet your eyes. But you can’t look at him. Not when his fingers are moving in and out of you so fast that you’re seeing stars. His scent of pine and sandalwood fills your nostrils while you can hear him softly chuckling at how fast you’re coming undone by him.

“M’close” you whimper, head falling onto his shoulder. “Fuck please dont stop, m’so close”.

He leans his head against yours and works his fingers faster, bringing his thumb up to circle your clit again. “M’not gonna stop honey. Not until I have you makin a mess all over my fingers”.

That's the final push you need to tip over the edge. Your climax hits you so hard that you bite Bucky’s shoulder to keep yourself from yelling at the top of your fucking lungs. 

“Mmnfgh”!

Bucky moves his hand up and down the back of your head as you come down from your high. “Shhh. I know honey. I know”.

“James” you speak lazily as you loosen your jaw from his shirt. “That was the best I’ve fucking felt in a while”.

He smiles at you, brushing the sweaty hair away from your face. “I’m not done just yet baby. Turn around for me. Wanna be buried so deep inside this cunt that you forget your own name”.

You do as he says, leaning over his desk as he takes off his clothes. When you look over your shoulder Bucky is taking off his tie and loosening it. Next thing you know, he puts your head through the hole and turns it around. “What's this for?” you ask, watching him tighten it just a tad.

“It’s so that I can fuck you like Billy never could”. 

You smile, turning your head back to face the window. 

"Gimme a word honey" Bucky mumbles, hand spreading his pre cum down the rest of his cock.

Your eyes flutter closed when you feel his tip move closer to your entrance, “red.”

“You're so fucking wet baby.” He taunts you before pushing his cock inside you. He waits for a beat, allowing you to adjust to his size. "Gonna start moving now alright"?

"Please" you whisper, mouth hung slightly open.

His hips slowly start moving in and out of you and you whine loudly at the same time that he groans. Bucky relishes the feeling of your warmth around him, grabbing the tie around your neck and pulling slightly so that you're as close to him as possible. Your breath is shaky as you feel him fill you up. He feels so good inside of you and your hand swipes the papers off of his desk.

"Shit honey" he grits through his teeth. "Squeezin' me so good this tight little cunt".

"Keep going, James! Fuck keep going"!

He kisses down your back, smirking when a series of whimpers escape your throat. “Don't worry. I'm not stopping until it's stuck in your head that you're my little cum slut”.

And he's giving it to you like you want it; hard, fast and raw. It's definitely in your head that you're his alone.

You moan as he grabs your boobs and rolls your nipple between his fingers. "Agh so good" you mumble feeling yourself dangerously close to your orgasm. Bucky tugs on the tie harder. "Shhh. I got you honey. I got you".

With a few more thrusts, the knot in your stomach tightens and you fall over the edge. Your legs go limp and your body falls down. Luckily Bucky's arm stops you before you slam onto the wooden desk.

"James!" you scream, coming all over his cock. As you ride out your orgasm, Bucky comes too. You can feel his cock spasm inside of you his body falls on top of yours. With pleasure still coursing through you, you turn around to face him.

"That was fucking amazing," you tell James as you watch him pull up his pants.

He smiles while he buckles his belt, watching you sit down on his desk wearing nothing but his tie and dog tags around your neck. "You look fucking amazing".

For the next few moments, the two of you stare at each other knowing that what just happened was not only going to be a one-time occurrence.

— la fin.

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Taglist:

@mrsbarneswillseeyounow @radicalbilly-hq @sarlouk @literalangels @gaycrystalbitch @knight-core @marvelfan789 @hallecarey1 @hallecarey1 @1111zxc @captain-asthmatic @daddysfavoritesexkitten @daddysfavoritesexkitten @stylesmygucci @clarinette07 @terrormonster55 @capmanranger @tyoho8 @blackwood-bodecker-housewife @sunshineyrosie @billyseye

by TrekChik

Red Sox pitcher Bucky Barnes is having a shitty year. He’s four years into his five-year contract and if he doesn’t get his shit together soon, he’s gonna be traded, he’s certain of it. In just three months of play, his ERA is creeping up towards six, his strikeout count is low, and he hasn’t won a game in his last three starts. To make matters worse, he’s at odds with the team’s catcher, Brock Rumlow.

Words: 4336, Chapters: 1/1, Language: English

Fandoms: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe

Rating: Explicit

Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings

Categories: M/M

Characters: James “Bucky” Barnes, Steve Rogers, Brock Rumlow

Relationships: James “Bucky” Barnes/Steve Rogers

Additional Tags: Baseball, Baseball Idiots, baseball pitcher Bucky Barnes, baseball catcher Steve Rogers, pitchers and catchers, Pining Bucky Barnes, Steve is savvier than Bucky realizes, Boys Kissing, Frottage