When I'm just liking your work or a post and I don’t reblog it immediately after it, that means that I added it into my queue. It will be reblogged later at a certain time 😌
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a/n: okay this is actually happened between my couisin and her husband (a very patient man)
The thing about cravings, pregnancy cravings, is that they’re a mystery even to the person experiencing them. This is why Bucky Barnes, ex-assassin turned cuddle-bear, stood frozen in the kitchen mid-bite of his third Pop-Tart as his very pregnant and hormonal wife stared blankly at the open fridge like it had personally offended her.
“I don’t know what I want, Buck!” You cried, throwing your hands up and nearly knocking over a bowl of oranges in the process. “But whatever it is… it’s not in there and I hate it… and I hate this fridge… and why is this light so bright?”
Bucky blinked slowly, then glanced guiltily at his half-eaten Pop-Tart and tried to hide it behind his back.
“Sweetheart,” he said carefully, in the same voice he once used while disarming a nuclear device, “do you maybe want some... pickles and peanut butter again? Or the chocolate-covered beef jerky thing?”
You turned your gaze on him like an avenging angel with a maternity pillow. “No! That was last week, Bucky. I evolved. That was the larval stage of cravings. I don’t even know what this one is. All I know is I’m hungry and sad and mad and also maybe I could cry over a sock.”
“You did cry over a sock yesterday,” he mumbled under his breath.
“What was that?”
“Nothing!” He said quickly, holding up his hands like he was about to be mugged. “Okay! Right… hungry… not sure what for. Could be anything. Could be... grilled cheese? Watermelon? Honey on pizza?”
“Stop saying food names, it’s making it worse!”
Bucky paused, then asked sincerely. “Do you want me to stop or do you want me to list them alphabetically?”
You made a sound that could only be described as a frustrated grunt-squeal, dramatically flopped onto the couch. “I’m going to die hungry and hormonal and the baby will come out annoyed because I couldn’t figure out what I wanted!” You shouted.
Bucky was sweating now as the Pop-Tart was forgotten. He sprinted to your side like the flat was on fire.
“Could have asked for some Pop-Tart…”
“I hate Pot-Tart… they’re disgusting!” You cried.
“Babe… don’t cry… I’ll go to the store and buy one of everything. I’ll bring back sushi and ice cream and that weird cereal with marshmallows that tastes like regret.”
“I can’t eat raw fish, you idiot!” You snapped, eyes blazing.
He blinked. “Right… raw and dangerous… got it… what about the ice cream? You love that mocha caramel chunk-”
“Ice cream makes me fat, Bucky!” You wailed, hands flying up in distress.
He blinked again, rapidly. “Babe… you’re pregnant. You’re literally supposed to gain weight. That’s part of the-”
“Oh, thank you, Doctor Barnes,” you growled. “Did they teach that in assassin school too? Did they teach you how to ruin your hormonal wife’s last shred of self-esteem while she’s swollen like a balloon and can’t reach her own toes?”
Bucky’s mouth opened.
Then closed but immeditely opened again.
No sound.
Just silent.
“Marshmallows?” He squeaked, desperate now. “Maybe marshmallows? I could make cocoa?”
You recoiled like he’d suggested eating a handful of gravel. “Marshmallows? I could vomit just looking at them right now. Why would you say that? Are you trying to kill me?”
“I’m not! I swear! I’m trying to save you!” He gasped. “Okay. No sushi and no ice cream and no marshmallows and… no joy apparently. Got it. That’s fine. I’ll go to the store. I’ll buy one of everything and we’ll sniff our way to an answer like food detectives.”
“You’d do that for me?” You sniffed, now on the verge of tears.
“I would storm a Hydra base for you, grocery is nothing.”
There was a pause.
“…Actually,” you said thoughtfully, “maybe I want… a pickle… dipped in whipped cream… wrapped in a pancake.”
Bucky blinked.
Then gave a single, solemn nod. “God help me, I’m going to make that happen.”
He kissed your forehead, stood up, and grabbed his car keys.
And as he headed for the door, you called after him. “Also maybe Funyuns! And a tub of cookie dough! And not the fucking off-brand kind this time, Barnes!”
“On it!” He shouted, already gone like a soldier on a mission.
You lay back, cradling your bump and grinning faintly. “I’m so hormonal… but I really married a good one.”
From the hallway, his muffled voice shouted back, “I heard that and I love you too, even if you make me cry once a week during snack hour!”
Damn super soldier senses, you thought.
Twenty-nine minutes later.
That’s how long Bucky had been gone. Not long, really.
Just enough for him to hit the local store, argue with a teenager over the last tub of name brand cookie dough and Google whether whipped cream counts as a dairy product or a “condiment”.
He was now juggling three overstuffed grocery bags, a wild-eyed expression and what looked like a pint of pickles wedged under one arm.
And when he finally kicked open the front door, all heroic and breathless, he was immediately hit with…
Sniffling?
Crying?
Whimpering?
“Y/N?” He called cautiously, kicking the door shut with his foot as he balanced the bags. “Sweetheart, I’m back! I brought, like… everything? Including that nightmare pancake idea? You said syrup optional… I got both. We can build the monstrosity together…”
The only reply was a soft, hiccupping sob from the couch.
Bucky dropped the bags like they were hot and darted over. “Hey… hey… hey what happened? Are you okay? Did the baby do a backflip again? Is it the indigestion thing? Oh my god, did I forget the non-dairy whipped cream?”
You sat curled up in a blanket burrito, red-eyed and nose running, clutching his hoodie to your face like it was a lifeline.
As soon as you saw him, your lip wobbled.
“I missed you,” you whispered in a teary voice that sounded like a Disney princess on the verge of collapse.
Bucky blinked. “I was gone for twenty-nine minutes.”
“It felt like a year,” you wailed, dramatically flopping onto your side. “And I was mean to you and I yelled and I said the Pop-Tart was disgusting and it wasn’t… it was fine… and I love you and I’m so sorry. I cried into your hoodie because it still smells like you!”
He gently perched on the edge of the couch, eyes soft. “You cried into my hoodie?” Bucky snorted and reached over to smooth your hair back, his touch gentle and warm. “I forgive you, doll… only because you’re very cute and very hormonal and carrying my future tiny assassin in there.”
You sniffled and wrapped your arms around his middle, burying your face in his belly. “I was just so sad and I didn’t know why. And then you were gone and I thought… what if you got hit by a car because you were thinking about pancake pickles and now I’m a widow and still hungry?”
Bucky tried very hard not to laugh. “Well… I did almost get hit in the parking lot. But it was because I dropped the whipped cream and chased it into traffic.”
You looked up at him, appalled. “Bucky Barnes!”
“What? I thought it was the fancy kind! You don’t disrespect fancy whipped cream.”
You blinked at him for a moment… then burst into laughter through your tears. It was the sort of laugh that turned into more sobbing halfway through, but Bucky just held you tighter and let you do both all over his shirt.
Once you’d calmed down, and maybe blown your nose a little too aggressively into his sleeve, he pressed a kiss to the top of your head.
“Okay… here’s the plan. I’ll make you the pickle pancake horror food,”
“With whipped cream,” you murmured against his chest.
“Obviously. I am a man of taste.”
“...And a tub of cookie dough?”
“The real stuff, babe. I tackled a guy for it.”
You looked up with teary eyes. “You tackled someone for me?”
“I lightly bumped him with the cart.”
You clutched his face and kissed his cheek like he’d just saved the planet. “You’re my hero.”
“I try,” he said dramatically, pulling the blanket tighter around you both. “Now… are you going to help me cook the Frankenstein meal or just cry while I assemble it?”
“I’ll probably cry,” you admitted, already tearing up again. “But I’ll cheer you on.”
“Deal.”
And with that, James Buchanan Barnes shuffled into the kitchen like a very tired raccoon in love, muttering to himself about pancake ratios and whether or not syrup counted as a hate crime in this context.
You smiled softly, hands on your belly.
The baby was probably wondering why it felt like a reality show in there, but it was home.
And it was full of love.
And whipped cream.
And maybe, just maybe… a slightly too charred pickle pancake.
Ten minutes later.
The kitchen looked like a cooking show hosted by a sleep deprived raccoon and filmed during a windstorm.
Bucky stood at the stove, frowning at a frying pan like it had personally betrayed him. He was still in his jeans, now wearing a dish towel over his shoulder like a professional chef or a dad from a 90s sitcom who just burned dinner.
"Okay," he muttered to himself, flipping the pancake with the concentration of someone disarming a bomb. “One warm and golden pancake.”
He glanced at the counter, where a line-up of very questionable ingredients waited.
Pickles? Check.
Whipped cream? Check.
Syrup? Optional, but included for the brave.
You? Sitting at the kitchen island with a pillow under your bump, watching him like he was cooking the final meal before his execution.
“I just want to say,” Bucky said slowly, “…this is an act of love. If I die tonight, tell Steve I went out honorably.”
You sniffed, hand on your belly. “If this goes wrong, I’m blaming you. I never should’ve said the word pancake. That’s where it all started.”
He gently placed the pancake on a plate and added a generous squirt of whipped cream then, holding his breath,rested on it a big and sour pickle. Then, like a final insult to logic, he drizzled maple syrup across the top.
You blinked. “Bucky. That looks like a war crime.”
“I know.” He turned, holding the plate solemnly like it was a cursed artifact. “I’m going to eat it with you.”
Your eyes widened. “You don’t have to-”
“No, I do.” He sliced the monstrosity in half, handed you the less-drenched side, and picked up a fork like it was a weapon.
You both stared at the halves.
Silence.
“I’m scared,” you whispered.
“Me too,” he whispered back.
Together, in synchronized doom, you each took a bite.
You chewed.
He chewed.
You blinked.
He blinked.
The baby did a single slow kick as if to say “what fresh hell is this?”
“…So?” Bucky asked, eyes glassy.
“It’s not the worst thing I’ve ever had.” You admitted, mouth full. “It’s kinda… weirdly satisfying?”
Bucky looked like he’d seen another plane of existence. “I think my tongue just had a panic attack.”
You smiled softly and took another bite. “It’s crunchy and sweet and gross but like… fine?.”
“Like me,” Bucky said with a proud shrug.
You swallowed, then leaned over and kissed his cheek. “You’re the best husband ever… forced to eat cursed food.”
He wiped imaginary tears from his eyes. “I take that as the highest compliment.”
Despite the messy pancake and the impending digestive regret, the two of you sat there sharing abominable bites holding hands across the table and laughing every time he gagged a little but kept eating anyway.
When you’re in love, sometimes the most romantic thing someone can do is eat a whipped cream wrapped pickle pancake without blinking.
am I tripping or you wrote something like bucky and neighbour? if I remember correctly reader wasn’t kidnapped or anything but he had sad thoughts about someone like her being so nice with him??
I know technically it’s not a fully request but if you have it still I’d like it 🥹 (hope you didn’t lose it completely)
My sweet neighbour
a/n: hi anon!!! no you're not tripping, i have wrote something like that with a neighbour but unfortunately it was one of the few i lost when i had the problem with my old account. so here we are i wrote it again (that's why it took me some time) hope you like it as you liked the first version. this version contain SMUT.
“Why do you still live there? It’s so far from here.” Sam asked Bucky on the jet, coming back from a mission.
“Yeah pal,” Steve adjusted his shield. “It’s far and you always have something to do.”
Bucky looked down at his boots.
He liked that place, the cozy condo he found four or five block away from the Avengers’ Tower, but he loved even more his neighbor.
“It’s somewhere I can wind down… you know how I am…” Bucky gulped, worried about saying something more than what he wanted. “It’s also cheap and there’s no Tony Stark pumping heavy metal in the morning.” He smirked.
The billionaire laughed snorting at the cockpit near Nat.
The remaining journey back home was quiet and peaceful, everyone thought about what to do within the next couple of days of rest.
Once the jet landed on the tower’s platform, Bucky packed his bag and headed out.
He always walked from the tower to his condo. He liked the night air and the dark atmosphere around him. He passed in front of a florist, and like every time he did, he thought of coming home to you with a big bouquet of roses. He saw in his mind the happiness on your face, your arms linked to his neck and your body pressed to his.
The reality was way more different.
You were on his floor, your door right in front of his. Some hello every now and then, a wave of hand if you saw him while being on the phone. He would never forget how your eyes widened the first time you saw him.
You recognized him immediately.
Bucky Barnes, the former Winter Soldier, on your floor.
Broad shoulders, wide chest, blue eyes and dark brown hair. A cheeky but shy smile when he presented even if that wasn’t necessary.
You run into your apartment, not wanting to face him and Bucky immediately got it.
You were scared of him.
Again, the reality was different.
Once you run into your apartment, you rested your back against the door. Chest moving up and down, a hand on your heart trying to calm it down. Your lower lip crushed between your teeth.
Bucky Barnes was by far the most handsome and hottest man you’ve ever seen.
Your body reacted immediately, like on autopilot, and you clenched your legs.
In the following days, you took a peek in the peephole trying to figure his routine.
Bucky did the same with you, but you had very different habits.
Bucky at five in the morning always headed out for his morning run. You preferred sleep.
Around nine, you finally woke up. Shower and a light breakfast and then straight to your office. At the same time he usually took his shower after his four hours of cardio and exercises.
Having different habits and routines, and not seeing you both as much, made it even more weird when you both got locked in the elevator.
People were supposed to know your neighbors and the fact he was taking more space with his body made you tremble.
Bucky got that as fear.
He saw you in the corner of the elevator, trapped and scared. He tried to make himself little bit but of course it was impossible.
He was a super soldier, six feet tall and 200+ pounds. His shoulders took all the space and he shuffled in his feet uncomfortably and ashamed of his past.
In your head tho, the reality was the total opposite.
You looked at him, finally not from a peephole. It seemed that his shoulders almost asked you to grab them, to rest your tights on them while he ate you out while grabbing his locks. You took a moment to admire his metal arm. You noticed how he tried to pull down the sleeve, trying to cover even the hand.
You took your sweet time admiring his lips. They seemed so soft and full. Imaging them on your skin made you shiver more.
His eyes were the thing you loved more. They were usually so shiny and bright. A blue so intense you found yourself staring at them in pictures once you found out he was your neighbor.
The great Bucky Barnes. The man turned into a weapon and then finally a hero with all the recognition he deserved.
You suspected he wouldn’t like being recognized like the Winter Soldier and so you preferred waving at him from the distance and simply saying hello to him.
“Sucks being stuck here, right?” You tried to asked him.
He hummed nodding.
“Okay,” you whispered crossing your arms on your chest. “So… do you like it here?”
“It’s fine.”
This time, you nodded without speaking.
You saw him in the opposite corner of the elevator far from you, as far as the space allowed.
Suddenly the elevator shook and you lost balance, crushing into his arms. His reflexes were on point like you suspected, as he grabbed you in a second. His flesh arm around your waist and your face against his chest. You inhaled his intoxicating smell. You didn’t see it but he smelled your hair too as he was way more taller than you.
“Oh sorry, Bucky.”
You looked up at him.
He looked down at you.
Bucky.
You said his name, so you of course knew him.
You saw the pain in his eyes. The regret of his past conditioning his present.
He removed the arm immediately from you and licked his lips.
“Sorry,” he whispered. “Did it hurt you?” He asked with a low tone.
You were about to reply but the elevators’ door opened. You saw two firefighters opening the heavy and metal door.
“Are you alright guys? Hey,” one of the firefighters removed his helmet. “You’re Bucky Barnes… god… you’re a hero.”
“Yeah… thanks…” Bucky replied shyly.
The firefighter who opened the door immediately helped you to get down since you were blocked between two floors. You refused his hand, and looked for Bucky’s hand. He gave his flesh hand to you, helping you balancing.
You looked at him straight in the eyes while thanking him.
It was now two weeks after being locked in the elevator. Bucky was nowhere to be found. He disappeared three days after.
You heard his door opened during the night and you immediately run towards the peephole. You saw him with his tactical gear and a duffle bag.
Almost a week away, you heard the news.
The Avengers were in a country you barely remember the name, fighting for the world. The local anchorman and cameraman filmed them after a fight.
Dirty, bloody and exhausted.
Bucky appeared on the screen.
Your breath got stuck in your throat.
He was suffering, painfully tired and absolutely handsome. His eyes tired and puffy. His chest moving up and down.
You picked the phone up and took a picture of the screen.
You missed him so much even tho you barely interacted with each other.
You got back on the bed and closed your eyes imagining him coming back.
After another week, he was back. You heard the keys in the door and immediately jumped up from your couch. You swung your door opened as he was about to close his.
“Bucky,” you whispered.
He turned and looked at you.
He didn’t have the same exhausted and dirty look he had on TV the week before, but he had a sad look in his eyes.
“Go back to sleep.”
“No.”
“We barely know each other… you should stay away from me.”
“No.” You replied again.
Bucky moved suddenly and you took a step back flinching at the speed not at him.
He froze.
“See?” He smiled sadly and got inside his apartment.
You run towards the closed door. “Bucky, please… you don’t get it. Open please.”
You kept knocking on his door but he didn’t answer.
He stayed near the door, hearing your knocking and looking at you through the peephole.
After some minutes your eyes were red and tears began to stream on your cheeks.
Bucky died inside seeing you like that, but he kept his facade.
As the days passed, you noticed how he avoided you even more. It looked like he was trying to even avoid getting on the floor the same time as you. At least sometimes you used to meet at the elevator.
He kept his five in the morning run cause he knew you would sleep at that time. He began to notice how the curtain of the living room, perfectly on sight from the street, was closed every time you were out and wide opened when you were in as you took all the natural light possible. He started monitoring the curtain as his personal tracker.
Close safe.
Open not safe.
It was inevitable seeing each other again.
It happened one afternoon after a summer storm. You were back from the office, no umbrella and light dress on. The first thunder made you walk a little bit more faster. As the rain began to pour, you found yourself two blocks ways from the condo.
The water wet your dress, making it cling to your body. Sadly that attracted weird looks from a man waiting on the bus.
You passed in front of the stop, one block from home, and he whistled at you. You kept your face down for not getting an eye contact with the man, and also for shielding your eyes from the rain and wind. You were right in front of your door looking for your keys, sensing his presence approaching.
“Hey beautiful,” the man began. “Why don’t you let me in your home.”
“Get off!”
“Mommy didn’t teach you the manners?” He lifted his arm in the air. You didn’t know what for, because it got stuck in the air.
Turning, you saw something shiny and metallic grabbing the man’s wrist.
Bucky.
You exhaled calming yourself, while your heart kept beating hard in your chest.
“Think you need to go dude.” Bucky said with a lower tone of voice. His eyes almost closed threatening, teeth gnarling and an evil smirk on his face. A wet wall of muscle, probably coming back from a run.
The man completely shuttered.
He nodded quickly and once Bucky left him, he run in the rain.
“Bucky,” you began.
“Did he hurt you?” He asked you worried. “Did he?”
You shook your head, thinking at what could have happened. “Thank you. You’re my hero.” You said opening the door of the hallway.
He looked down, letting you pass in front of him. You noticed he gave a final look at the street before closing the door.
You press the elevators’ button and stood near him. His scent, mixed with the rain, was in the air and you found yourself inhaling all.
The elevator hissed and again he let you pass in front of him. He pushed your floor’s button and rest his back against the wall of the elevator.
His henley stuck to his chest, his hair wet and messy. He passed a hand through them and you took a deep breath.
You turned and pressed your chest against his.
“Don’t talk.”
You pressed your lips against his, lifting yourself on your tip. Your arms circled his neck as your fingers began to play with his hair.
He growled in the kiss and grabbed your hips. You began to press yourself more against him and you felt definitely something getting harder.
“Wait,” Bucky told you. His hands on your shoulders. “Wait… wait… wait.”
Shame and sadness on your face.
You’ve never felt so bad.
Was that meaning he wasn’t interested in you?
Was it all in your head?
Were you the only one feeling the attraction?
“Sorry Bucky… I misjudged apparently…”
You slid away from him.
The elevators’ door opened and you rushed out. Bucky remained blocked and shocked.
You kissed him.
Hardly and passionately and roughly.
He saw you closed the door of your apartment and disappeared.
Why did he told you to wait?
Wait what?
Something more exciting of this?
His body reacted way too good at you but his brain stopped him.
He got back to his home and didn’t let anyone interrupting him.
He moved to the bedroom, cock heavy in his pants. He laid down on the bed while removing pants and underwear. He grabbed his shaft, already hard and leaking. He thought about your face, your hands around his neck and your chest against his.
Your soft and full boobs crushing on his hard pecks. He pressed his metal hand more around the base of his cock, while his mind pictured you in your soaked dress. The fabric clinging to your body like a vision.
He slid his hand up and down more, his thumb gliding on his tip as he felt the pleasure rising in his body.
What he didn’t know in that moment, was that you were doing the same in your bedroom.
You didn’t even take your time to remove the dress, you simply pulled it up around your hips as you sat on the bed. Legs spread opened and your phone on the dresser.
Bucky’s news picture on the screen.
You looked at him. His eyes looked at you as you were able to capture the moment the starred at the camera.
Your hands began to slid down your body. You fingers rolling your nipples pinching them.
Your chest already moving up and down quickly. You spread your legs more, lifting one on the mattress. Your index began to play with your clit, but it wasn’t enough.
Sitting better, you laid down on your elbow and rolled your clit more into your fingers.
“Bucky…” you panted. “Yeah… please…”
You licked two fingers and slid them in your hole. Already worked up, you didn’t need much time.
His picture staring at him was able to let the pleasure rise in you. You grabbed the sheet under you and starred more at the pic. You remembered his chest against yours, how his hands grabbed your hips and his soft and wet hair in your fist.
“Please let me come Bucky…”
“Please let me come Bucky…”
Bucky couldn’t possibly imagining what was happening on the other side of the wall. He suspected over the weeks that your bedroom was right near his and just a wall was separating you. Now he was sure.
He heard your moans after coming down from his high, already worked up enough.
He stood up, letting his clothes fall on the ground and rest naked against the wall. He pressed his forehead on the wall and grabbed his cock hard again.
Being a super soldier with enhanced senses had some flaws but this one was definitely an advantage.
Metal hand on the wall and flesh around his cock, Bucky began to pant and moan again.
He heard all the wetting sound your fingers made. He heard his name coming out of your lips and that made him shiver more.
“Y/N,” he grunted against the wall, punching it as he came again.
It was the first time he said your name out loud.
Everything stopped and he realized it later.
You heard him hearing you.
You stood, unsatisfied, and walked toward the wall. “Bucky?” You asked in the silence of a stormy afternoon.
“Yeah…”
“Can you hear me?”
“Yeah… I can…” his hand still around his cock. He pumped himself more as you spoke.
“Want to help me?” Your hand slid down too. “Why don’t you come here? I’ll opened the door just now…”
Bucky heard your footsteps getting far and even your door unlocking. His sense were so overstimulated that he was aware of everything.
You got back and punch lightly the wall for him. “Here I am… I’m waiting Bucky…”
“I’m ruining you if I’ll come…”
“I’m counting on it…” you breathed out. Your fingers sliding inside you again and Bucky heard the wetting sound he heard before.
He took his short, no underwear, and put them on. “Coming sweetie.”
He didn’t think of putting his shirt on, it wasn’t necessary.
In a second he was inside your apartment.
You scent reached his nostril in a second and he felt his cock hardening even more.
He removed his shorts and began pumping himself again.
“Follow my voice, Bucky…” you told him.
He gulped and licked his lips and indeed followed your voice.
You kept talking to him until you saw him on the edge of your room, naked and hard. He growled when he saw you. He kept pumping himself as you kept sliding in and out your fingers from your pussy.
“How… how could you… po-possibily... hear me…oh my god…”
“Sweetie,” you saw his knuckles getting white as he pressed more. “Super hearing… you made me weak and on alert all the time…”
His cock twitched in his hand.
Naked too and legs spreading on the bed. You back anchored to the mattress as you rested on your elbow. Your hand kept playing with your pussy.
“Why don’t you come here?” You asked in a sexy tone.
He moved like a leopard, precise and fast.
He grabbed your knees and spread your legs even more. He took a look at your glistering pussy before diving in you. His tongue licked a long stripe until his teeth grabbed your tiny and pulsing clit.
“Fuck… Bucky… you’re so good…”
“I know… stay there…” he ordered you.
You tried, really tried, but he was too good and your upper body irreversibly stood a little.
As he felt your core clenching, after began pumping two fingers in you, he stopped.
“Why?” You whined.
“Told ya to stay there. You have to earn it now…”
He looked at you with a smirk, you didn’t feel any ounce of fear, just excitement.
He slid up, reaching for your lips. He dove his tongue in your mouth as his hand kept your chin steady. He bite your lower lip while his all body crushed yours. You felt his fingers still playing with your pussy.
“Bucky… please…” you panted against his mouth.
“You wanna come?” He asked you, kissing your neck.
You nodded.
He looked at you and turned your entire body on the bed.
“Ass up,” he said lightly spanking it. “Are you gonna stay there?”
“YES YES YES… I’LL DO IT…”
“Good girl…”
He kissed your back, still a little wet from the rain in your hair. He grabbed his fat cock and teasing your entrance with his tip. You tried to wiggle a little but you were remembered what he told you with his hand grabbing a little harder your hip. You stopped when you felt him sliding into you.
It stung a little but it immediately transformed into pleasure. You felt every inches of him, stretching you deliciously.
He grabbed your hips both and began to push harder inside you. “God you are made for me…”
“Bucky…” you were able only to pant and moan his name.
“Yeah… that’s my name… scream it loudly…let everyone hearing it…”
“BUCKY!” You screamed as he pull out and push himself inside hardly.
“So beautiful with that dress on it… wait,” he kept pushing inside you. “Is that my face on your phone?”
You froze while he was still pushing into you. In the rush of adrenaline you completely forgot your phone and his picture.
“Can… explain…” you tried to told him in the middle of your moans.
“God,” he lowered more on you, letting your legs buckled and fell on the bed. He crushed you more as he kept pounding in you. “That’s the hottest thing even… I heard my name from your mouth pretty girl…”
“Bucky… please…”
“Yeah… just like that…”
He grabbed a fist of your hair, pulling yourself up on your not so stable knees. He circled an arm around your waist, then rested his palm on your chest letting you up. Your back pressed more against his chest. His cock kept sliding in and out. He felt clenching your muscles and snacked a hand on your clit. His fingers played with your clit.
“God Bucky… I need to come…”
“Come pretty girl… come on my cock…”
Your body reacted in an aggressive rush of pleasure. He let you fell forward, balancing on your elbows. Your ass pushing more against him as he kept pushing and sliding in you walking you through your orgasm.
“I’m coming sweetie…” he rasped, hands grabbing your hips.
“Inside Bucky. I want it inside.”
He let his head fall behind and grunted as he came. Hot spout in you, that he kept inside with his big cock.
He finally slid out of you, resting his forehead on your back. Once he stood, you stopped him.
“Lay down.”
“What?” He asked you confused.
“Do it.”
He did, and laid down on the bed. You knelt on the bed and turned. Bucky began to understand once you straddled his legs.
You lowered your head near his cock, too close.
“Sweetie… you don’t have to…”
“I want to,” you smiled at him. “I really do.”
You pressed a kiss on his tip as he pushed his head more into the pillow. Grabbing the base of his shaft, you began to bob the head on him. He was very well endowed so you had to really hollowed your mouth. His hips jerked up a little as he felt the tip of his cock in the back of your throat.
His hand immediately flew to you head, grabbing a fist of your hair. He wasn’t controlling you, he was guiding you and you wanted to be guided by him.
Already overstimulated, Bucky came again in a few minutes. You let him come into your mouth, greedily swallowing all of him.
You felt on him, arms opened and chest ready to let you sleep on it.
As your skin touched his, he circled you with his arms and caged you against his warm and sweaty body.
He peppered your head of kisses, it was sweet and kind, totally the opposite of what you both did.
“Why did you avoid me, Bucky?”
“It was easier. You’re too pure to be in this with me…”
“But I want to…”
“No, you don’t,” Bucky slid his hand on your back in a gentle caress. “The first time you saw you run away… I know fear when I see it… but it’s not your fault… I mean…”
“OH MY GOD!” You laughed hard and loud. “YOU REALLY THINK THAT?”
Bucky looked at you as you stood naked in front of him.
“Sweetie it’s normal… I get it…”
“Why the hell would you think that after I let you fuck me?”
“Well-” Bucky stopped.
Now that he was thinking, why letting him in your bed if there’s only fear from your side?
“You don’t tremble because I scare you?”
“Bingo,” you replied sarcastically. You took a look at his sad eyes. “Oh god, Bucky I’m sorry… you must sensing fear from people a lot…”
He nodded sitting on the edge of the bed.
“Well,” you said sitting on his tights and circling his neck with your arm. “I am not scarred of you… and the first time I saw you I run inside because I was horny…”
You looked down, right at his cock, and smirked.
“Horny?”
“Yes horny. Weren’t you horny the first time you saw me?”
“I’m always horny when I look at you…”
You turned, straddling his lap. The warm of your pussy touched his cock, hardening it again. You kissed him deeply and hardly. His tongue fought with yours. You snatched a hand between you, grabbing his half hard cock.
A couple of pumps and it was hard fully again.
Keeping kissing him, you let it slid inside you again.
You didn’t move, he didn’t just grab your hips.
He remained there, his cock protected in your warm and welcoming pussy. His metal hand, a little cold treat with the warm temperature in your room, resting on your back keeping you caged against him.
Kissing Bucky was good, maybe too good.
You rolled your lap a little and he grunted in your mouth. The sound made your nipple hardening even more.
He circled his flesh arm around you now, he pressed it against your hips.
You began to move a little, adjusting the position.
“Don’t move please…” he moaned.
You nodded but clenched your muscles. He moaned more, harder and deeper.
Music for your ears.
You did it again and made him come again.
A couple of pushes from under you as he came, made your orgasm approached too.
Hours later, the storm was already a memory from the past.
You convinced him to take a bath with you.
“How could I fit in there?” He asked you confused.
“We’ll make you fit…” you voluntary smirked in an allusive way.
You did made it fit in the tub.
His back completely against the end of the tub. His long and big legs spread opened. The right one completely out, resting his calf on the edge of the tub.
You sat in the middle of his legs, grazing his cock on more.
“Sweetie, you need to behave…”
“No.”
You laid down, back to his chest.
Your torso completely on him.
You took his arm and circled your collarbone with it.
“Are you sure it’s okay for you, sweetie?”
“More than okay, Bucky.” You said, eyes closed.
His metal fingers grazed your forehead, sliding out of your cheek some wet locks of hair.
“Can I wash your hair?” Bucky asked whispering.
“Of course, Bucky.”
You sat better, feeling already the loss of his chest to your back. You stretched your arm on the other edge of the tub, where some bottles stood there.
“Here,” you said, turning to him slightly. “Here’s the shampoo.”
He took the bottle as it was made of glass, then squeezed out a little amount of shampoo. Lathering between his hands, he makes the foam.
Once his fingers were on your scalp, you moaned.
“God… your so good…”
You heard him taking a deep breath.
“Mmh... Bucky… just like that…”
“Sweetie please…” he fought the urge to pull your head toward him and kissing you.
“I love this.”
“Yeah,” he snorted. “Figured…”
As he washed and rinse your hair, and even untangled them, you turned to him.
“Your turn…”
“What? How…”
“Don’t worry.”
You took the same little amount of shampoo and lathered it too.
You began washing his hair, and then you pulled his head toward your chest.
“Stay there.”
Bucky rested his face on your boobs, the best pillow he could get. They lightly giggled as you move your arm on his head.
He found himself cupping them with his both hands.
“Sorry,”
“Don’t say sorry. Do it again.”
He did.
Light and soft touch. He took care of them as he took care of you before.
His fingertips rolling your nipples making you deep breathes.
Once you rinsed his hair, he kissed your chest.
“I can get used to this, sweetie.”
“You have to get used to it.”
You kissed him, he circled your waist and pulled you against him slouching some water out the tub.
Thinking of the question from Steve about how he preferred living there, well… now he had a real answer.
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hiiiii if you’re taking requests can i ask something where reader and bucky both avengers and friends but like in love with each other bla bla bla and reader has toxic bf hitting her and bucky noticing it?? I know it’s like suuuuper popular in here but i absolutely love your writing style and i already know you’re gonna ace this 😍😍😍😍
You don't get it, Buck...
a/n: thank you so much love!! like we talked there's smut too (ofc duh!) really hope you like it! if the topic is too much (even tho is not descripted in details) for someone pls read something else.
“I’m telling you,” Bucky said smiling. “This is gonna be huge… Tony is gonna throw the party of the year…”
Oh dear Bucky, you said in your mind.
Bucky, your dear and most loyal friend. The man with a metal arm and tons of issue with the modern world and the coffee machine.
“I swear she hates me,” he said one time, referring to the coffee machine.
“She hates you.” You replied mocking him. “You do know she doesn’t have a soul nor a brain so she can’t hate you?”
You always smiled thinking back at that moment.
“You have to come… c'mon it’s been ages since we saw your pretty face with us outside work…”
Work… if being an avenger could be defined just as work.
The reality wasn’t so easy to get, especially for Bucky.
The coffee machine incident was almost three years ago, when you swore to yourself that no other man could be even remotely made you happy like him. Yes, you had a big crush on the super soldier but now every morning you woke up near Mark.
You forgot how you and Mark met.
Friend of a friend?
Someone you saved during a mission?
Casual encounter in the park with the dog you kept for a week for a Shield’s agent?
You completely cancelled everything the first he hit you.
A slap on your face, strong and calculated. The trace of his fingerprints on your cheek. That day, listening to his reason, he was forced because you got back home late for dinner.
“I was waiting while you were out playing costumes with your friends. I expect a warm and ready dinner the second I’m in,”
You laughed, thinking he was pranking you then he moved closer raising his arm. His dark and angry eyes targeting you, his slim figures appearing gigantic with anger. It burned where his hand hit, but it wasn’t burning like the humiliation of being an avenger slapped by him.
“Kitchen. Now.”
Not recognising yourself, you moved to the kitchen. Moving on autopilot, you took some pots and pans and began to make something. You didn’t cry even if he wouldn’t hear form the couch. You stared at the backsplash of the kitchen. Your lower lip trembled but you regained immediately your composure.
Without speaking, you served him something and walked fast toward the bedroom. In your en-suite bathroom, you opened the shower jumping in without waiting for the hot water. An ice cold stream of water hit your head. Resting the forehead on the glass door, you silently cried.
After that slap, Mark began to hit more and more.
Someone made him angry at work? Slap.
A deal with a client went wrong? Slap.
You not in the mood for sex of something else? Slap before taking advantage of your body.
You didn’t react anymore. You were sadly used to Mark’s behaviour.
The worse in this scenario, was having to lie to your colleagues. Especially to Bucky.
It was a random Friday. The big party Bucky begged you to come was gone. That night, your phone was beeping non stop for the messages you were receiving.
Giirllllll… so many alcohol in here, Nat wrote
I swear this chick wants me, Sam said
I’m sorry for Sam’s messages, Steve texted you.
Btw that lady was really looking at him, he wrote in a second text.
Doll, I miss you here…, Bucky simply wrote.
You smiled at Steve text, and deeply exhaled at Bucky’s one.
Mark of course noticed it. “Your boyfriend’s texting you?” He said, anger already sensed in his tone.
“You know it’s not my boyfriend…” you replied tired, omitting the sadly.
“Bet you’d like tho,” he stood up. “Look at me when I talk to you!”
You kept your eyes down.
He moved closer.
In a rush you felt your hair pulled up, closed in his fist.
“MARK STOP! IT HURTS!”
“As it should you slut. You’re all day with him… I know you’re fucking when you’re together,” he said, closing his fist more on your hair. “HE. CAN’T. HAVE. YOU.”
You moved your legs and kicked him, he lost the grip for a second and you tried to slid out of his presence but you miscalculated and trip on the rug. Coming closer from behind, he gripped your ankle and pulled your toward himself.
Imagining the scene from the outside, the shame of being treated like this grew in you.
You defeated Thanos, aliens and every kind of creatures but now your so called boyfriend was the one hitting you, making you feel like a little and scared girl. The pressure on your ankle didn’t fade, he gripped it even harder and yanked you more. When he was right above you, he left your ankle not before sitting on your lower back.
“Think you need a lesson…”
You tried to shake him off you but in that moment he was way stronger. The fear and panic blocking you. You heard him playing with the belt, sliding it off his trouser and smacking on the floor.
“I’m sure he’s into this type of game so…”
He didn’t finish the phrase, or maybe you blocked out his voice. You only heard the belt ringing into your ear, stinging on your legs. You tuned a little and you see the anger and yet satisfaction in his eyes.
He made the belt swinging behind him, hitting you again. “You like it just as you like it with him?”
You begged him to stop, to free you but he was completely blind by his anger. You tried to explain, again, how you and Bucky weren’t a thing if not just coworkers and friends. He stopped only when he was tired of swinging the belts in the air, leaving you there on the floor crying and sobbing. You tried to touch the parts where he hit you but the pain was unbearable.
After he left the apartment, you stood up crying more from the pain. You reached the bedroom and picked some clothes with a bag. After waiting some times, you got out. Since you were too ashamed, you choose an hotel near the tower and after a quick check in, you entered in the room.
Throwing yourself on the bed you cried more.
Violently and uncontrollably.
In the meanwhile at the tower, a very worried super soldier kept his eyes on the elevator all night. Phone in his hand and ear ready trying to hear every kinda of possible noise. Bucky recently noticed something was off. You smiled less, during mission you much more stiffened and most importantly, he swore you flinched after breaking accidentally a glass some days before.
Something is off, he thought.
The next day, after blocking Mark’s number, you reached the tower.
“Here she is,” Nat said, hugging you. You didn’t know how you could control the pain you felt. “The party was phenomenal… you are definitely gonna be in the next one. No objections.”
You simply nodded. You reached the common room, where the other avengers were standing finishing the meeting for the upcoming mission. Everyone cheered seeing you but Bucky’s eyes stayed on you for a long time.
It wasn’t a mystery you lived far from the tower, but they didn’t know about your relationship. You and Mark lived in your apartment in which he moved immediately.
Once you also got ready, carefully getting dressed in a separate room, you reached the others. When you entered the hangar where the jet was waiting, Bucky circled your shoulders and kissed your temple.
“Missed you yesterday doll,” he said, resting his cheek on your head. “You’re okay?”
You hummed yes and untangled from him.
The mission should have been easy.
Enter.
Eliminate all the threats.
Getting on the jet again and spending the night drinking a lot of beer in the common area.
So easy… until it wasn’t.
A grenade exploded right behind the warehouse, fortunately not hitting the jet. An explosion so big and loud that everybody was laying on the ground, ears ringing and throat burning.
“Is everybody alright?” Steve shouted, standing in a quick jump.
“Yeah…” Sam said limping.
“Kinda.” Tony exclaimed checking everybody’s vitals with his sensors.
“Okay.” Nat shouted, croaking his neck.
“Here pal,” Bucky replied. He stood attaching his arm on his shoulder. “Where’s Y/N?” He asked worried.
In the distance, you heard Bucky’s voice. He sounded so worried, for you. The back of your thighs burning from the day before. The ankle Mark crushed in hand was now hurting since you fell on it. You tried to stand failing miserably.
“Doll,” Bucky said running to you. “Here let me help you…” he moved closer to you followed by the team.
“No… I can do it myself… just take my hand…”
Knowing Bucky he was already ready to pick you up, but the idea of his arm under your legs made you tremble. He couldn’t know what happened, let alone knowing you had a toxic relationship.
In that moment, you thought that not telling the team nor Bucky about Mark, was a signal about how wrong it was all the situation.
“C'mon doll, you need help.” He snorted.
“I SAID JUST FUCKING TAKE MY HAND!”
Everything stopped.
Tony, Steve, Nat and Sam blinked trying to look anywhere but you.
Bucky froze. His eyes went down, slightly wet.
“Doll…”
“Please take my hand and stop talking,” you begged him. Your tone now low, sweet almost whispered.
He took your hand and you limped, he resisted the urge to circled your waist. You saw the pain in his eyes, but he kept his mouth shout.
No one dared to speak in the jet.
Bucky saw how you limped on the jet and how you laid on your side. You did that just because your thighs couldn’t handle your weight on them. When you arrived, you held Bucky’s arm without hesitation. He of course helped you.
Again, no one talked when you all entered in the compound.
You untangled from Bucky, looking at him.
You both took the elevator since your rooms were on the same floor. Entering the room you were barely using since living with Mark, you checked the phone, miraculously not broke from the explosion. You saw a voice message from Mark, and you played it.
Bitch… I swear the moment I found you I’m gonna break you so hard you can for-
“The fuck was that?” A voice behind you exclaimed.
Bucky.
You flinched and turned noticing the slightly ajar door. You pushed the phone in your pocket in a second.
“Doll,” he fought for keeping his tone controlled. “What was that?”
“Bucky… you don’t get… it’s nothing I swear…”
“Nothing? You wanna tell me that was nothing? Are you out of your mind?”
You didn’t know what to say. Bucky heard Mark’s message. He heard everything and now he was standing in front of you, hand closed in a fist while the metal one screeched. You moved to the bed limping, feeling his eyes on you. It burned when you sat.
“He’s Mark,” you said looking down. “My boyfriend…” you didn’t dare to look up.
“Your boyfriend? Wait… you have a boyfriend?”
Feeling his eyes on you, you nodded. “He’s not my boyfriend anymore… at least I hope…”
In a rush of laughter, you snorted. Every kind of emotions busted in you.
“Why the secret?” He asked you.
“Don’t know,” you whispered. You did know the reason but you weren’t ready to say it. Bucky couldn’t stand it.
“How the fuck you couldn’t know? It’s your fucking life…”
Hearing Bucky’s voice, made you angry. “You wanna know why? Because I’m fucking ashamed…” you stood abruptly. “Ashamed of your reaction… of being a fucking avenger but getting hit with a fucking belt-”
“A fucking belt? He hit you?”
Panic rushed in your body. You didn’t mean to say it and let Bucky know about it. “No… wait… I-I didn’t mean it like that…”
“And how did you mean it?”
You looked down again, while the tears began to run on your face. You legs began to burn again as you sat.
“Did he hit you?” Bucky asked calmly.
“Buck…”
“DID. HE. FUCKING. HIT. YOU?”
“Yes.”
Bucky jumped out of your room. A movement so quick you almost didn’t see him.
“BUCKY PLEASE WAIT…” you limped behind him.
He run toward the elevator, beating you. You waited for the closed one and once it was there you rushed into it. When the door opened, you caught a glimpse of Bucky’s voice in the common room.
“Stark! Look every fucking camera in this fucking city and find whoever was near Y/N-”
“Bucky what? Are you high?” Tony laughed, but immediately stopped seeing Bucky's face.
“BUCKY BARNES STOP!” You yelled.
“Can everybody explain?” Tony asked very much confused.
“Y/N,” Bucky exhorted you.
Sensing everybody’s eyes on you, you picked the phone from the pocket. Mark’s voice ringing into the silent common area.
Bitch I swear the moment I found you I’m gonna break you so hard you can forget your fucking weirdos avengers and that stupid assassin of yours.
You closed your eyes in the end. Bucky in your room made you pause the message but now you, and everybody else, heard it.
You explained everything.
How Mark seemed pretty normal or at least that was what you remembered since the trauma made you erased him from your mind. You now pictured only the pain, the humiliation and the loss of your freedom.
Nat was ready to fight just as Sam, Steve and Tony.
Bucky was calm, too calm. Knowing him, you knew he was already memorised his tone of voice ready to track him down in the streets if needed.
“Did he really hit you with a belt?” Sam asked.
You nodded. Again, you told them how you spent the night in a hotel after you escaped him. “It was easier like that… the mission today…”
“HOW CAN YOU FUCKING SAY THIS WAS EASIER. YOU SHOULD HAVE COME TO ME FOR GOD’S SAKE. I FUCKING LOVE YOU Y/N,”
You stopped breathing.
“You love me?” You asked shocked.
“Cmon, Y/N everybody knows this,” Bucky said looking down.
You saw around you the others nodding. You looked at Bucky. His head bent down, his eyes locked on the floor and his both hands closed into fists.
In your mind there were only the things Bucky did for you and thinking about it, it was pretty obvious. He always remembered your coffee order, the way you ate your sandwich or the books you liked more. It was when you decided to move closer to him, that you all hear a voice.
“I fucking knew it!”
Mark.
In the tower.
In the common room.
“I knew it. No one has your freaking relationship without any feelings…”
Feeling again scared and little you moved behind Bucky, who put already himself in front of you. As he turned looking at Mark, he gulped. He actually never saw Bucky in real life. He knew of course who he was and what he did in the past but seeing him there in real life was another thing.
Tall, broad shoulders, dirt and blood on him from the mission. He was intimidating and he knew it.
Bucky moved toward Mark, maybe too fast because Mark stumbled on his feet. He felt down, looking Bucky up from the floor. A coward in his natural state, eyes wide opened. Panic and fear rushing through him.
“Did you hit her?” Bucky asked him calmly, making him way more terrifying.
“I…I…” Mark stumbled and stuttered.
“So?” Bucky asked again, lowering near Mark. “Did you?”
“Yes.”
“Why did you,” Bucky smiled. A smile tight and fake but surely effective on Mark. “In fact… I don’t care why you did it,” he said that keeping his composure but then he snapped.
In a second Bucky stood. Six feet tall, 200 and more pounds standing there in front of a scared little man. He grabbed Mark by the collar of his shirt with his metal hand. He kept him in the air, Mark’s legs swinging in the air. Bucky pressed his hand more on his neck, causing Mark’s face to change colour into a reddish shadow.
Seeing this, you realised how stupid you were.
Fearing a man like this?
Being treated like that?
And then you took a look at Bucky. The man you thought was only your friend, the one who was now defending you and giving him a lesson.
Bucky, sensing your eyes on himself, turned his head. His sweet blue eyes made a strong contrast with what he was doing to Mark.
He looked again at his target, held locked in his hand and threw him onto the floor. Mark coughed touching his neck. Bucky walked closer, lowering near him.
“If I ever saw you near her again,” he looked Mark with a firm glance. “I’ll kill you.”
Ever the loser, Mark nodded.
As he was about to stand, Bucky talked again. “Steve,”
“Yes pal?” Steve replied immediately.
“Call the police please.”
“On it.” Steve said, as Nat approached Mark.
In a bunch of minutes the police arrived and cuffed Mark, pressing charges against him for domestic violence and abuse. Nat asked the policemen to escort him at the station. You didn’t really know if she brought him at the station. Steve, Tony and Sam hugged you one by one whispering sweet thing to you.
You were now alone in the common room with Bucky.
“Buck,” you started. “I can explain…”
“Don’t,” he stopped you raising his hand. “Why didn’t you tell me anything?”
You looked down. “I was scared of your reaction,” you admitted. “Scared of what you might have said…”
“I should have killed him. I was going to… but I stopped…”
You knew why he stopped. Killing a man with his metal hand, keeping him in the air. Too many resembles to his previous life as the Winter Soldier.
“You were defending me,” you said as you moved closer.
“I spend my life defending you… and I’m not gonna stop,” he moved too.
Now you were face to face, chest to chest, the tip of his nose touching your head as he kissed your forehead. You looked up at him, towering over you. You took his head between your hands and pulled him down. Your lips touched his, just a peck until he deepened the kiss. His tongue playing with yours, his hands gripping your waist pulling impossibly close to him.
You felt his heartbeat against yours. Circling his neck with your arms, you breathed in him as he did the same with you. He tightened his press on your waist, lifting you in the air. As he was about to hold you from your legs, you hummed against his lips.
“Buck,” you said out of breath. “Not there please,”
He looked at you, calming his breath too. “Is your stomach okay?”
You looked at him confused but smiling. “I guess…”
“In that case,” Bucky said before lifting you from the waist and gently holding on his shoulder. Your stomach touching his shoulder as he circled your waist to kept you there.
“Right,” you snorted.
He walked you through the compound toward your bedroom. He gently put you down and stood there in front of you. The dirt and dust of the mission still on your bodies.
“I’ll let you take a shower,”
“Stay.”
“Doll, I don’t think it’s the right time.”
“Stay.”
He looked at you, trying to find any trace of doubts. He couldn’t. You knew what you were asking. He knew you were letting him see the pain Mark gave you.
“Okay.”
He stood in the bathroom, looking at you. “You don’t have to show me anything, doll.”
“I want to.”
You began to undress yourself. First the boots came off, then socks and belt. Your fingers rested a little on the shirt. After removing it, you stayed there in front of him with your bra on.
Bucky, always the most skilled spy in the room, immediately noticed some bruises on your hips. You noticed how he looked at your hips and began to unzip your tactical pants.
He wasn’t ready for that.
He noticed at some bruises on your arm, due to the mission and the explosion but looking down he flinched. Your ankle had a handprint on it, purple and dark. Giving him no time to reply, you turned showing him your back thighs.
Red whips landed on your meat. The skin a little puffy, painful and horrible to look at.
“That’s why…” he gulped. “That’s why you didn’t want me to hold you…”
You were naked in front of a fully clothed man and you were at ease. It was Bucky, your Bucky.
He could have took a look at your body but he concentrated only on the bruises Mark left on you. You only nodded.
“C’mon,” he said exhaling. “I’ll help you in the shower.”
He removed boots and socks and belt first, just as you did. When he stood back up again, his eyes never left yours. He took out the edge of his black shirt from his pants, removing it so damn fast that you didn’t even lost connection with his eyes. He moved closer, shirtless and barefoot, only his pants on him. “You don’t need to see if you’re not okay with this…”
You looked at him, at his eyes and caressed a cheek. “You don’t know how much I’m okay with this,”
He smiled at you and unzipped his pants. His boxer did absolutely nothing to hide the excitement. “Sorry,” he smiled sheepishly, covering his bulge.
“No,” you took his hand away. “No need to hide,”
He nodded and slid out of his boxer.
He stood there in all his glorious glory and strength. Broad shoulders and wide chest. His pecs perfectly sculpted along with his abs. His metal arm, shining with the bathroom lights.
“Turn the light off Bucky,” you said while he looked at you confused. “I wanna feel you before seeing you.”
He almost lost the balance, but immediately turned off the light.
It wasn't completely dark in the bathroom due to the big window with the city lights reflecting on it.
You felt Bucky shifting, coming back in front of you. You saw a glimpse of his arm in the dark, sensing his natural and intoxicating smell too. Raising your arm you caressed his abs, then raising up against his body until his pecs. When you rested the other hand too, he took a deep breathe.
“Doll,”
“What?” You asked, moving closer until your skin touched his. “Don't you like it?”
He was liking it, maybe too much. His cock twiched in the air, and when your thigh barely touched his tip he lost it for real.
Grabbing your neck with his metal hand, he pulled you toward him. He kissed you like his life depended on that kiss. His fingers tangling in your hair while his flesh hand grabbed your hip. “God, sorry… tell me if this is too much…”
“It's not even enough Buck…”
He growled against your mouth circling your waist with his arm. He lifted you in a second, keeping you against him. His arm only touched your waist, so your legs could be free to dangle.
“You're so fucking beautiful, doll…” he panted in your mouth. “I should have killed him… but I didn't… i'm gonna spend my life protecting you.”
“Bucky…” your words died in your throat as his tongue dove more into your mouth. He was starving.
In Bucky's mind, while his tongue devoured your mouth, there were only the pain of knowing you alone somewhere near that man. His hands on your body. Bucky hugged you a little more.
“Buck,” you said pulling out for a second. “I'm not going anywhere…”
“Oh god,” he said realizing what he was doing. “I'm sorry… did I hurt you?” He whispered putting you back on the floor.
“What? No! God, no.”
He released a breathe, locked in his throat when eh asked you if he hurted you.
You smiled at him, moving closer again. You pressed your mouth on his chest, as he push his head behind. His arms remained still at both of his sides. You smiled more and took both of his arm, linking them on your waist.
“I need to take control tonight, Buck… would you let me?”
“God yes. Please take control on me.”
Bucky knew you needed it to regain your trust in a man but he couldn't lie to himself, or to you if you ever had asked, that he was turned on by the idea of being bossed around especially by you.
You knelt on the floor, his knees buckled a little. He found again his balance grabbing the counter.
You hand began to grab the base of his shaft, sliding it up and down. A slow but very effective movement. You thumb worked on his tip. As you saw him closing his eyes, you kissed the tip of his cock.
“Doll,”
“Relax and let me…”
You took his cock in your mouth. Bucky towering over you, his eyes locked on yours. You winked at him and in a rush of pleasure he lifted his hand in the air. You got it immediately and nodded. He rested his hand on your head, fingers tangled in your hair guiding and not controlling. It took him a few more minutes to feel the pleasure raising in his body.
“Doll please… I don't wanna come in your mouth…”
“I do.” You replied sucking him more.
That wrecked him as he came in your mouth. Once he came down from his high, you stood and swallowed all.
He kissed your lips, starving again. His hands both at the sides of your face keeping you there.
“Turned around.” He ordered you.
You nodded smiling and turning.
Resting your palms on the countertop, you spread your legs. Bucky stayed still for a second, looking at the red whips on your body. He fully stood, chest to your back. Moving your hair, he kissed your neck almost sweetly and devotionally.
“I'm sorry this happened to you, doll.”
“It's not your fault, Buck.”
You pushed your head behind, hitting his shouder. It was almost a romantic scene. Two lovers getting back after a fight.
His hands roamed on your skin, you noticed in the reflection of the mirror. His fingers delicately grazed your stomach, then your belly button making you snort and then he moved them down. Gently caressing your folds at first. You felt a wave of pleasure almost immediately and you pushed yourself more against him. His metal hand circled your waist as his flesh one began playing with your clit.
“Little precious thing here,” he pinched a little, not hurting you. He felt the wetnees of your core. “Is that all for me?”
“You know it is, Barnes…”
He lifted your leg on the counter, waiting for a stop from you. You didn't stop him of course.
“Is this…?”
“It is, Buck.”
He knelt on the floor, behind you. He kissed the red part on your skin. You flinched a little when the tip of his tongue licked a puffy part on the back of your thighs. You should have stopped him but he was way better than any cream.
“Please do that again…” you panted.
“Like this?” He said before licking a stripe on your skin. “Or this?” He kissed the same spot.
You slouched yourself on the counter, forehead almost touching the mirror. Bucky, behind you, kisse for the last time your thigh.
He moved fast and efficient. In a second you felt the tip of his tongue in your pussy.
“Buck!” You yelled.
“Let me,”
He dove into your pussy, licking everything he could. He bite your folds and clit a little, your knees menaced to fall but Bucky's arm was pretty secure around your waist.
His tongue, strong and raw, devoured you. He was good at this and you suspected he knew that.
“Best day ever, doll.” He said against your core.
It was now your turn to clench around him. He felt the muscles in your pussy moving, so he inserted a finger too.
“Bucky!” You yelled moaning.
He pumped his finger in you as his tongue continued his journey. You came on his tongue yelling his name. You turned for a second, grabbing his hair. He moaned and groaned as you pulled his hair more.
As you came down from your orgasm, keeping his face in you for a second more, you feel on the counter.
Bucky stood behind you, caging you between his body and the sink. He rested his forehead in the middle on your back.
“I fucking love you, doll. I'm tired of pretending I don't. I wanna spend my life with you.”
You smiled as a tear escaped from your eye. “I love you too Bucky. I wanna spend my life with you too…”
He hugged you, still towering over you. “Let's have that shower.”
You nodded.
Entering in the shower, he opened the water. When the stream, not too hot due to your skin, hit the both of you. His body covered you from the direct stream of water. He remained for a second fixing your face.
“What?” You asked smiling.
He kissed you with the same damn hunger he had since entering your room. He pushed you more against the wall.
“Buck,” you asked against his lips.
He hummed.
“Pick me up and fuck me…”
“Doll… your legs… what?”
“PICK. ME. UP. AND. FUCK. ME.”
He looked at you and hs eyes got darker. He picked you up in a second, weight like a feather in his arms. His hands on your thighs did infact burn but you couldn't care less. Keeping his mouth on yours, he slid inside you in a singular movement. He stayed there fronzen from the pleasure, still keeping you up. When you looked at him nodding, he began to move.
His thrusts were precise, deep and able to reach every part of you.
Your nails grabbed him more, on his shoulders. His face went direct in the crook of your neck, hiding himself.
“Can't last, doll… too perfect…”
“Come inside…”
He quickened his movements as he felt your core clenching around him. You wanted to keep him inside you forever.
You felt his warm release in you and you hugged him tighter.
He held you with his metal arm as his flesh one went on the wall to balance himself. After regaining it, he moved it on your face. He traced the edge of your lips, playing with the lower lips.
He was still inside you when he stopped trembling.
He put your down, still keeping you from your waist the proceeded to wash your body and hair. He quickly did his too, soldier efficienty.
Once he rinsed yoo both, he opened the shower's door and grabbed the fluffiest towel he could. He delicately patted your skin.
“On the counter… rest on your elbow…” he said blushing.
“Again?" You asked smirking
“Uh, no…” he blushed more. “I'll apply the cream… if you want…”
“Oh,” you smiled at his shyness.
You perched your body on the sink, propping up your ass as he applied the cream.
“Behave.” He ordered with the less intimidating voice ever.
“Okay…”
Once he finished, you felt the relief on your skin. He massagged your thighs with gentle hands, too gentle. Completely the contrary of what he was in the shower.
You began tearing up a little.
“Doll, did it hurt?”
You shock your head no. “It's the way you care,” he stood behind you like he did before. “I suppose i'm not used to it anymore.”
“I've got you. Today, tomorrow and for the rest of my life.”
“I know.”
That night, when he slid in the bed near you, you felt at ease for the first time in a very long time.
Bucky's metal arm protecting you. His body against yours. His breath on your neck, warm and reassuring.
“I love you, Buck. I'm sorry if I didn't see it…”
“I love you too,” he kissed your shoulder. “Now you're seing it… it's all I care about.”
You closed your eyes with a super soldier on your side and a smile on your lips.
The most underrated act of kindness is letting people be. Let them mispronounce a word, talk too much about a show they love, or get excited about something you don't understand. Everyone got something that lights them up. let them shine, even if it's not your thing
The serum amplifies everything that is inside, so good becomes great; bad becomes worse. This is why you were chosen. Because a strong man who has known power all his life may lose respect for that power, but a weak man knows the value of strength, and knows compassion. Whatever happens tomorrow, you must promise me one thing. That you will stay who you are, not a perfect soldier, but a good man.
HAPPY BIRTHDAY, STEVEN GRANT ROGERS (July 4th, 1918)
Summary: Apparently, you're too old for your hobby. Bucky disagrees.
Word Count: Over 2k
Warnings: Purely self-indulgent, reader has kids, mention of fanfiction and anon hate, writer positivity, age positivity, swearing, Bucky Barnes (he's a warning, okay?).
A/N: I had to this, okay? ❤️ Not beta read and written on my phone, so any and all mistakes are my own. Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog for new fics and notifications as I no longer do taglists. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!
You were sitting on the couch, scanning the words on your screen. You read them once. Twice. Part of you wanted to smile at the terrible grammar that dared to grace your inbox, and the rest of you was stunned by the sheer audacity of what you saw.
Screenshot. Blocked. Done.
Bucky walked in with a mug in his hand and took a seat beside you, which brought a small smile to your face. He liked being close. You were one of the only people he let into his personal space bubble.
“You okay?” he asked when you set your phone down. “You’re being quiet.”
“I’m quiet sometimes,” you tried to tease.
He tilted his head. “No, this is a different kind of quiet. Something happened,” he said because he knew you so well. “And I want to fix it.”
You smiled again. Of course, he wanted to fix it. That was the kind of man he was.
“Apparently, I’m too old to have hobbies,” you stated.
An adorably confused look crossed his face and you wanted to kiss him for being so cute. “You’re… what?”
“I got some anonymous ask on my blog basically telling me to stop posting fanfiction because I’m too old and I should do something my age,” you explained, showing him the screenshot.
Bucky stared at the screenshot, his fingers twitching before they curled into fists. He didn’t say anything. It didn’t even look like he was breathing.
The cold that filled his blue eyes told you he was about two seconds from somehow climbing into the internet and finding this person.
“And before you asked, I didn’t respond. I blocked them,” you explained, keeping the phone out of his reach. “They’re just trolling or trying to get a reaction.”
One of the wonderful things about your blog was that you could curate it for your own experience. If you didn’t want to respond to rude asks or messages, you didn’t have to. If you wanted to, you could. It was that simple.
A downside of the website was that some people seemed to forget to curate their own experiences, like simply unfollowing or blocking blogs and tags if they didn’t like, agree, or want to see them.
“I am reacting,” Bucky said in a quiet voice tinged with building rage.
“I noticed,” you said, not flinching when he set the mug down with a little more force than necessary and took a deep breath.
“That… is one of the dumbest things I’ve ever read, and I’ve read a lot of stuff.”
You almost laughed, but he was dead serious.
“Does this…” He gestured to your phone and flexed his fingers again. “Askhole really thinks that there’s an expiration date on hobbies? Because there isn’t.”
You shifted and tucked your legs underneath you, giving him your full attention.
“That’s so fucking…” He let out a bitter laugh. “People collect baseball cards into their seventies. Eighties. They paint miniature trains. Build model airplanes. Knit. Garden. Fish. Hunt.”
“They do,” you agreed, running your fingers through his hair just because you could.
He closed his eyes at your touch before he continued. “People go to comic cons and cosplay. They play D&D. Video games.” His voice was starting to rise and your nails touched his scalp again. “And what about grown ass men who paint their faces and spend entire weekends yelling at sports games?”
“You sound personally offended.”
He looked at you incredulously. “I am personally offended on your behalf.”
You snuck in a kiss because you couldn’t help yourself. You felt some of the anger leave his body when your lips touched. It meant a lot that he cared so much.
“Don’t distract me,” he whispered.
“I’m not,” you whispered back, smiling when you pulled away. “You just have very kissable lips.”
“So do you,” he said with a smile before he frowned. “But I’m still not happy because they’re acting like people writing stories is somehow less respectable because what? Other people read them online and not from a book?”
You shrugged a little. “It’s fanfiction,” you said softly.
He shrugged, too. “So?”
“So…” You tried to find the words. “Some people think it's an inferior form of writing and a waste of time.”
His brows pinched, something sad filling his eyes. “I think creating something that makes you happy is one of the most adult and superior things you could do.”
You were quiet for a moment. “Really?”
“Really.” He opened his arms for you to move close. “You have two kids who love and adore you and vice versa, and they’re busy with so many activities that you have a calendar to keep it all straight. You make sure they’re never without.”
Your heart swelled. Your babies. No matter how old they got, they would always be your babies. And you wanted them to thrive in life. That was one of the reasons you worked so hard to give them not just a nice home, but a loving one.
“You work 40 hours a week. Sometimes more,” he said, his lips brushing the top of your head. “You pour so much of yourself into that job and your teammates that it wears on you by the end of the week.”
Mist filled your eyes. You did put a lot into your job because your parents taught you the value of hard work. And as frustrating as growth in your job could be, there were perks to your job and you had a great team. That wasn’t easy to come by.
“And when you aren’t pouring yourself into the kids or work, you have a pretty amazing husband who always wants your attention,” he teased, tilting your chin up with a tender smile. “Seriously, I can’t keep my hands off you half the time.”
Heat filled your cheeks and a laugh bubbled up. It amazed you after so many years how your husband still wanted you. Still admired you. He was an amazing partner and father.
You couldn’t ask for anyone better.
“And when you aren’t dealing with a handy husband.” He smirked a little. “You’re paying bills, handling responsibilities, and checking on others. Online and offline.”
Your heart sank a little. Messages sometimes went unanswered. Asks got buried. Comments got late replies. Not on purpose. Never on purpose.
But you felt guilty just the same. It didn’t feel like enough some days. There wasn’t enough time. There wasn’t enough of you to go around.
“I try,” you said sadly.
“You do your best, and people see that,” he said proudly. “And after all that, you write.”
“Yeah.”
You wished you could write every single day. Life rarely gave you the opportunity to do so. You accepted that.
“I’m in fucking awe of you,” he said so seriously that your mouth fell open. “And not just you, but the community you all have online. They may not have your same kind of life or schedule, but they have their own struggles and they still find the time to create and share. You all help keep fandoms alive.”
Everyone had a life and a story to tell. Everyone had their hardships. That was one of the reasons so many of you gravitated to certain characters and communities. Life was tough enough. Building connections helped.
“I guess we do,” you said, much softer.
“Does that piece of shit askhole realize that your creations have touched people? Helped people?”
“I haven’t-”
He silenced you with a deep kiss, the words dying in your throat.
“Don’t you dare say that your writing hasn’t touched or helped at least one person because it has,” he said fiercely, cupping your cheek. “Fluff, smut, angst, soft, dark. There’s something for everyone.”
You did your best to provide a variety of stories, and you adored your readers. They were cheerleaders, supporters, and friends. You wanted them to feel loved and cared for. They deserved that.
“And some coward.” The word tasted bitter in his mouth. “Hiding behind a button doesn’t get to treat you like you don’t belong in your own space because of your age.”
Your eyes burned again. “Bucky…”
“Not to mention, you do this for free in the very limited free time you have.” He brushed his thumb along your cheek. “I’m glad you blocked them. You don’t need that trash in your inbox.”
“I’m glad, too.”
It wasn’t the sort of energy you needed in your space, and blocking them helped take your power back.
“And look at me? I’m over a hundred years old. I’m an old fucking man, and I still have hobbies.” He smiled when you snorted. “Like jumping out of planes.”
“You take after Steve,” you joked.
That beautiful man could be reckless in the best way.
“I like old records.”
“And we dance in the kitchen while listening to them.”
You always felt cherished when he held you close.
“I read,” he said, nodding to the chair where he usually sat to read.
“I should get you reading glasses,” you mused.
Even if he didn’t need them, he’d look sexy in them.
“I’m a science nerd,” he stated proudly.
“I still want to get your glasses.”
Because nerds were sexy as hell.
“I like fixing motorcycles.”
You sighed dreamily. “And you look good on your bike.”
Maybe he could take you for a ride later… in more ways than one.
“I bake with Sam’s nephews.”
You sighed again because the man looked good with kids. “They do love when you add extra chocolate chips to cookies.”
“Extra chocolate chips make it better.” He winked. “And I’m still saving the world every so often.”
You put your hand over his. “My hero.”
“So, if I can still have hobbies at my age, why can’t you?” he asked rhetorically. “If this person really thinks people should stop once they hit a certain, they’re going to live a sad life. If anything, people get better at their hobbies because they’re getting more experience which happens with age.”
You didn’t disagree.
“I don’t care if you’re in your twenties, thirties, forties, fifties, whatever age,” he promised you. “If it brings you joy? If you love it? Then don’t stop creating. Don’t stop writing your stories.”
You closed your eyes when he kissed your forehead. “Even the self-indulgent ones?”
He smiled against your skin. “Especially the self-indulgent ones.”
“Even if I write about other characters?”
“I’ll support you,” he promised.
“What if someone else says I’m still too old?” you asked.
“Then I’ll remind them, once again, that I’m over a hundred years old and they can get fucked.”
“You look very good for your age.” You giggled when he playfully growled and managed to grab your phone. “Hey!”
“You look very good for your age.” You giggled when he playfully growled and managed to grab your phone. “Hey!”
“Forget about them,” he ordered, tucking the device away. “And talk to me about one of the next ideas brewing in that beautiful brain of yours.”
An almost shy smile appeared on your face. Almost. He knew better.
“It might be better if I… show you.”
He leaned back against the cushion and helped you straddle him, his eyes dark as his hands settled on your hips. “I like the sound of that.”
You stopped him before he could pull you down for a kiss. “Bucky?”
“Yeah, sweetheart?”
You gazed at the man who brought so much light into your life. He helped you connect to others. He fueled your creativity.
You felt very lucky.
“Thanks for loving and seeing me,” you whispered.
His eyes softened. “Thanks for loving and seeing me, too,” he said, meeting you halfway. “And if some askhole bothers you again, send them my way.”
“Yes, sir,” you teased, letting him kiss you.
So, yes, you’d keep posting your stories on your blog.
The self-indulgent ones. The ones you struggled to tell. The ones you put your blood, sweat, and tears into.
You’d joke about the writing process. You’d apologize for late updates. You’d keep on doing what you were doing.
Because there was no expiration date on creativity and hobbies.
And anyone who thought there was?
Well, they didn’t need to read your stories.
Yep. I'm a mom. A wife. A friend. I work. I adult. Fanfiction isn't just fanfiction, lovelies. It's community. Keep doing you. Curate your own experience. Love and thanks for reading. ❤️
Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
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Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
✓ Live Streaming✓ Interactive Chat✓ Private Shows✓ HD Quality✓ Free Actions
Free to watch • No registration required • HD streaming
