I'm getting back into the writing game from...way too many years ago. I am a slow updater, so bear with me. My tumblr bio, if you're interested.
I have an AO3: PotatoThot. My work isn't anywhere else.
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On to the Enjoyments!
Do not be a bad potato and steal.
The potato I use is licensed under CCC share alike international by Christa Ackerman.
Fyi: I rate as best I can, but my work with explicit ratings will be marked and are not to be consumed for those under 18.
Note - I'm not your guardian. You read what you want. I can't stop you. If you don't heed the warnings, too bad for you, not me.
Works:
What Are You
"I'm whatever you want me to be."
An AU series of miniseries, one-shots, PWPs, drabbles, and more based on the Lovecraftian concept of âold godsâ and a vague sprinkling of mythological creatures from around the world.
Click the link above for the masterlist.
Updated as of 1/25/2023!
General Fics
Updated as of 1/25/2023!
Bucky Barnes
"Porcelain Doll": a semidark!bucky x reader smut (explicit) where Bucky learns what it means to have a duel-edged kink. Warnings: Sex, obsessive!bucky, powered!reader (no explicit description given), choking kink, fear of choking kink. This is NOT a dub/noncon!
"Weapon": dark!bucky. Bucky knows what he is and what heâll always be. Warnings: anger, dark bucky, the winter soldier, canon type violence, some racism (in passing)
"Ruminating": Bucky Barnes x Reader. Bucky canât help but let obsessive thoughts run through his mind at night. His girl helps him out. Warnings: dark bucky, the winter soldier, sex, blow job (m receiving), bad thoughts, mentions of drug use, the reader has powers (vague in what they are), talk of death (winter soldier's handiwork)
"Alien Machinery (Love Scripts from Metal Fingertips)": Pt. 2 to Alien Machinery Warnings: noncon, masturbation, implied sex, implied noncon, voyeurism, humiliation
"Good Morning": Hydra AU. Dark Winter Soldier x You. Hydra won. How did you sleep through that? Warnings: canon-level typical violence allusions, mentions of a hard on, non-con drugging
Part 2 to "Good Morning": a blurb for the upcoming larger part.
"Princess": for @charmed-asylum 's #promptthebreaks challenge 2022: Dark Vampire!Bucky Barnes x Reader. Challenge prompts are inside. Reader has a crush on Bucky. Bucky has a crush on reader. He decides to show her what she means to him during Halloween. Warnings: Sex, obsessive!bucky, noncon, blood, physical violence in a bad way
"Consciousness": Hydra AU. Consciousness is the first thing the Soldatâs brain registers. Not the cold hanging in the air, the darkness enveloping him, nor the silence only broken by far-off creaking. Warnings: canon-level typical violence, overly descriptive language
"Bitter Man": Dark Professor Bucky Barnes x Reader/you. You go to Professor Barnes in hopes of having him help you with your failing grade in his class. Warnings: Smut, Blow Jobs, mean bucky, dark bucky, dub-con, degrading language
"This Coffee is Gonna be Good": Bucky Barnes x Reader/You, Natasha x Reader/You (platonic). Bucky is a liar. You're tired of it. Fluff, no cheating or anything! It's too fargin' cute; I hate it. ;)
Bi-Han (Sub Zero from Mortal Kombat 1 - 2023)
"Tea Culture": Bi-Han x Reader. He sees everything you do.
"Untitled (for now)": Dark!Bi-Han x Virgin!Reader. Bi-Han takes what he wants. The Lin Kuei are always repaid.
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Between fear and fascination, a solitary creature struggles to protect his hidden world -and himself- after an unexpected encounter with a curious human woman makes him question everything he thought he knew about trust, danger, and boundaries.
note: A Cecaelia is a mythical creature that's half-man, half-octopus.
Warnings: non/dubcon, marital troubles, body insecurity, and other dark elements. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.
My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.
Characters: Bucky Barnes
Summary: your marriage is on the rocks.
As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. Iâm happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging â¤ď¸
The knock makes you jump. You close the cabinet and sigh. The downstairs bathroom doesn't have much more than hand towels and soap.Â
"Doll, I got my med kit. Let me have a look at you," Bucky calls through.Â
You look at yourself, a wadded length of toilet paper pressed to your cheek. You don't want him anywhere near you. Not after that.Â
Before you felt repugnant, now you feel trapped.Â
"It's not that bad," you force your voice steady. "I just need to keep pressure on it."Â
"Doll," he leans on the door. "You know I wouldn't mean to do that. This damn plate in my hand keeps lifting--"Â
"That's... you should get that fixed," you stammer.Â
He's quiet. The door shifts again.Â
"Your heart's racing," he says. Â
You sigh, "Bucky," you frown, "just give me a minute, okay?"Â
The last word peaks and you cringe. You're not doing a very good job of staying calm. You hear him sniff and the handle jiggles. Â
"Baby, let me just have a look. I feel awful--"Â
He doesn't stop. Before, he couldn't be bothered to answer a phone call, now he won't let you breathe. You push on the tissue until your flesh throbs and face the door. You flick the lock back. Â
He opens it from the other side. "Hey, uh, let me have a look."Â
You drop your hand and stare at the wall. He sets the melt on the counter and frames your face. You wince. His touch is lighter than before. Â
"Shit, I'm sorry. I... your face. I never would mean to cut to such a pretty one," he flips the lid of the kit. "I was... I'm scared too, you know? I don't wanna lose you. That's all it is."Â
You swallow and let him wipe the cut with alcohol. You can't speak. If you do, you might break. You know he can hear your fear but can be hear your anger? Your hurt.Â
"I got the chicken out so it doesn't burn. I'll fix dinner when I'm done with you," he says as he presses sterile strips across the cut. "No stitches. Hopefully it won't scar."Â
You lower your lashes and inhale, "thanks."Â
"Of course. I'll always take care of you," he frames your chin. "I didn't do it on purpose."Â
"Got it," you meet his eye. "Can I go change my shirt?"Â
His gaze falls to the droplets on your shirt. His cheek ticks. "You don't have to ask me like I'm some tyrant."Â
You stare at him. He shakes his head and steps out of your way. "God forbid you're stuck with me," he raises his hands. "I'll set the table. You don't gotta lift a finger."Â
You pass him and measure your steps. You want to run but you know better. Right now, there's nowhere for you to go.Â
You donât even know if you want to go. Even if you could. It was a question. A conversation you thought would be kept private. Youâre hurt by Bucky but even more so by Natasha. Worse, you feel stupid. How could you think anyone would ever take your side?Â
Look at it from the outside. Youâre married to a hero, an avenger, someone who can support you. You donât have to work, you work because you didnât want to be that kept wife. Your comics barely prevented that, did they? Youâre not a housewife but still kept.Â
You go upstairs and switch out your shirt. This oneâs loose, a deep burgundy without any detail. Just a plain jersey tee.Â
You linger in the bedroom. Youâre nervous. Afraid. Your adrenaline is still surging. You feel his iron grip around your jaw.Â
When you started dating, you loved how strong Bucky was. He could pick you up like nothing. And he did. He loved it. How you would gasp and giggle. You donât have fun like you used to.Â
You make yourself go downstairs. If he has to come find you, you donât expect it will go any better than the last encounter. He has the table set, the salad waiting.Â
âCroutons?â He asks as you sit.Â
âNo thanks,â you say. Youâre cutting back the carbs.Â
You pick up the fork and jab into the lettuce and tomatoes. Heâs acting like itâs all fine. Like your face isnât totally fucked up. Itâs not that bad. He could do worse. And it was an accident. So he says. But he grabbed you on purpose. He did that all intentionally.Â
âYou know,â he pauses as he chews. He swallows thickly, âif you wanna work out, we could do it together. Like we used to.âÂ
You look up at him. You shove a mouthful of salad through your lips to stifle a scoff. Thereâs nothing you want to do with him at the moment.Â
You nod and gulp down the vinaigrette laden lettuce. He didnât toss it very well.Â
âSure, it could work,â you say. âI just wouldnât want to be in your way.âÂ
âOh, you think Sam doesnât?â He snorts. âThe guyâs always messing around.âÂ
âRight, yeah, I... havenât heard from him in a while.âÂ
âHeâs busy. Too busy for me. Plus, I think he likes Steve better,â Bucky shrugs. âThink Iâm falling out of style.âÂ
He stares at you. You flinch. You lower your chin and take another bite.Â
âWe can start tomorrow,â he suggests.Â
You nearly shrug. You stop yourself. Your indifference wonât help. You need to start trying. Not to keep this together, but to pretend you are.Â
âI think itâs a good idea,â you agree. You clear your throat and wipe your mouth with the napkin he placed beside your bowl. âMaybe we can figure this out. Maybe... you know, theâwhat I spoke about with Nat, itâs girl talk. Itâs not anything serious. I just... had doubts.âÂ
âLetâs move past it,â he says as he rests his metal fist beside his bowl. You stare at his knuckles before you make yourself look him in the face.Â
âSure,â you stir your salad. âI just...â you bite the inside of your lip. Stop while your ahead. âA whole month?âÂ
He huffs, âI get it. Alright? I shouldâve answered. I know. I... I didnât think youâd want to sit and listen to me rant about the idiots they got me training.âÂ
âBut I would,â you say. âIf youâd just picked up the phone.âÂ
His fist tightens, ânoted.âÂ
You poke at the lettuce and exhale slowly. Youâre already standing on the line, no use stepping past it. You touch your cheek without thinking and his eyes flash. You tear your hand away and put it against the side of the bowl instead.Â
âThanks for finishing this up for me,â you scoop up some more chicken, âum, and the flowers are pretty.âÂ
âWell, youâre my wife. I do everything for you. Everything,â he snarls.Â
â warnings: My content is dark and contains triggering elements such as mentions of torture and/or torture; abusive relationship; dacryphilia; sexual themes; weapons and possible others. Read at your own discretion. MDNI, this work is 18+, as always.
â author's note: This is for the ones doubting my dark content lmao. enjoy (if you can), these are the fruits of my mind (i am fucked up tbh). Finally, I got to write Bucky, especially for you, my love, @highonmarvel. Forever in love with you, my soul sister. xxx
Šthehydraethereal 2025. My work and writing is not to be copied, translated, reposted or stolen. My content is dark. Your media consumption is your problem, not mines. Reblogs, asks, requests and comments are always required and appreciated
Small droplets of frozen rain and lost, shimmery snowflakes hit the windows as Bucky makes his way up the staircase towards his bedroom. The bedroom you two shared.
You really think you can leave Bucky. "That's almost cute", he thinks to himself, as he finishes to put the other leather glove on his vibranium arm.
His jaw is clenched, the low lights portraying him almost ghostly, demonlike, in the refections of the windows. That's how he had seen himself his whole life, since the forties, but having you---the nucleus of his life---see him such a monster that you try to leave him is something Bucky could never allow.
With a little help from Steve, the man that always had his back, Bucky was able to prevent the...loss of you.
And as his fingertips touch the doorknob, and his eyes fall on your restrained, frozen figure once the door is unlocked, the icy wind blowing softly the hair away from your petrified, purplish face, Bucky oddly feels no remorse. He actually feels his actions are entitled and extremely 'disappointed' at your previous stupid actions.
Blood runs to his already hardening cock when he hears your whimpers muffled by the blood-stained rag and your tears. Oh, those tears. The sweet acid rain falling from your bewitching eyes because of him is something that Bucky not only likes, but in fact adores.
"Hey, doll...", he sighs, rubbing his thick thumb over the much thicker bulge in his jeans, while his ocean eyes bore into your terrified ones.
When you try to crawl away, your feet get tangled in the white sheets and a mocking smirk screws on Bucky's features.
"Oh, doll...I thought we already went through this.", he says, his calm stressing you even more. His eyes rest on the drawer you know he keeps his knive and gun in.
Your pleading face is shoved down into a pillow. "You know, if I say I don't enjoy this---", Bucky starts as he takes his time with ripping down your underwear and moving his gloved, iron arm to grip your thigh, "---I would be telling a big fucking lie." You flinch when you feel a metalic pinch on your skin, followed by warmth pooling between your thighs, as Bucky's knife dances on your skin.
No tag lists. Do not send asks or DMs about updates. Review my pinned post for guidelines, masterlist, etc.
Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as dubcon/noncon, age gap, possible abuse, alcoholism, and other possible triggers. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.
This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.
Summary:Â Your father is strict but his authority is challenged by the boy in town and the man at his door.
Characters:Â Arvin Russell, Lee Bodecker
Note: dirty old man vs. nasty young man
As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. Iâm trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me <3
Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I havenât forgotten those!) Asking for more or putting âpart 2?â is not feedback.
Love you all. You are appreciated and your are worthy. Treat yourself with care. đ
The radio blares as you enter the front room, a plate in each hand. You hand one to the sheriff as he smirks and offer the other to your father. He doesnât look at you as he cups his chin and slumps. Youâre not sure heâs even awake.Â
âDaddy,â you say.Â
He doesnât answer. You set the dessert on the round table next to his chair. You back up as Bodecker catches your eye. You bite back a frown.Â
âIâll get that rum,â you utter.Â
You retreat and hurry off to the kitchen. You find two short liquor glasses and pour the rum. You return to them and place one glass by your father before giving the other to the sheriff. He examines the dark liquor.Â
âFine brand,â he drawls, âand a fine dessert. Hard to enjoy without a fine woman.â His blue eyes flick up to yours. The silver strands in his brown hair glimmer in the lamp light. âWhereâs yours, then, baby?âÂ
âMine, sir?â You fold your hands and step back.Â
âYou put all this work in, you should enjoy the fruits of your labour,â he tuts. âAinât that right, Jack?âÂ
You father grumbles as he leans toward the radio. Itâs got an arched top, one of the ones back from before the war. Your grandfatherâs. You donât dare touch it.Â
âCome on, then, you gotta have a bite,â he puts the drink down and lifts the plate off his lap, âhere ya are, girl.âÂ
He cuts into the pastry with his fork and chisels away a creamy bite. Your purse your lips as he offers it to you. You gulp.Â
âSheriff, thatâs for you. Really, dinner was more than enough--âÂ
âGo on,â he hovers the fork, the cream about to drop. âIâm sharinâ, like a gentleman.âÂ
You nod and push your hands behind you. You ball them up tightly and bend forward. You're overly aware of his gaze as you close your lips around the tines and suck off the cream. You keep your mouth sealed as you pull back.Â
You chew thoroughly before you swallow. He chuckles and balances the plate on his thigh. He curls a finger to beckon you down, âcome here, baby girl, you got something...âÂ
You crinkle your brow but obey. Your father garbles senselessly as the commentators call an out. You wince as the sheriff drags his thumb across your lower lip.Â
âMade a mess,â he purrs and pushes against the center of your lips. âBest clean it up.âÂ
He forces his way into your mouth and rubs your tongue, wiping the sweet cream on your tastebuds. He pets your chin before he pulls away. Your saliva glistens on his thumb. He puts it to his mouth and licks.Â
âYouâre just as sweet, baby girl,â he winks.Â
You waver and look at the floor, âsheriff, thereâs a real mess in the kitchen. I best clean it up.âÂ
âYou always do whatâs best, donât ya?â He teases. âGo on, then. Be a good girl.âÂ
His words send chills over you. He's not saying anything wrong but his tone suggests otherwise. That look on his face too. You flit away, your breath constricting from the breath trapped inside.Â
You exhale as you enter the kitchen. You focus on cleaning up. You wash the dishes meticulously, hoping to waste the time until the sheriff leaves.Â
A sudden crash rings through from the front room. You wring the dishcloth and rush through the door. Youâre daddyâs on the floor, his plate and glass around him. The radio continues to buzz.Â
Bodecker stands over him, hands on his hips.Â
âTold him to slow down,â he clucks.Â
âDaddy?â You scamper forward. The sheriff looks at you and lays a hand on your shoulder.Â
âDonât you worry, baby girl. Iâll get him. He just needa sleep this off.â He squeezes and rubs with his thumb, reluctantly letting you go. âYou lead the way, huh?âÂ
He bends and scoops up your daddy. You pout but canât argue. You wouldnât be able to move him on your own. You turn and guide the sheriff. You take him to the stairs and up to your fatherâs room. You open the door but stay outside. Youâre not supposed to go in there.Â
You watch from the door as he lays your daddy on the mattress. You rub your palms together nervously. He grips his lower back as he steps back.Â
âAh, sittinâ in that cruiser, no good on me,â he grits as he crosses the room. He shuts off the light as he gets to the door.Â
âIs he alright?â You ask as he closes you out.Â
âShould be,â he brushes his fingertips long your hip. âDonât you worry. Seems you do too much of it.âÂ
âOh... uh,â you step away from him. He looks past you and heads down the hall.Â
He stops by your bedroom and spins back to you. You trip to keep from colliding with him. âThis yours?â he taps on the door.Â
âUm, yes, sheriff.âÂ
He spreads his hand on the wood, âreally?âÂ
He grabs the handle and twists. You donât have a chance to stop before he struts inside. You gasp and follow him.Â
âSheriff? What--âÂ
âIâm just lookinâ,â he says as he heads for the bed. âItâs nice. Got a ladyâs touch, ainât it?âÂ
He admires the shelf clock. Your mom painted it. You teeter on your toes.Â
âI guess, but...âÂ
âIâm gonna need the guest room,â he says. âAinât in no state to be drivinâ. You got a heavy pour on ya, girl.â He turns and strides up to you. âThat rum sure is strong.âÂ
âOh, I'm sorry, sheriff--âÂ
ââSides,â he stops before you, âshould be sure your daddy makes it through the night. Heâs a lush.âÂ
You look away guiltily, âIâll make up that spare bed.âÂ
âYou do that. Iâll clean up the mess he made.âÂ
He dips his chin and squeezes past you, so close you feel a tug in your skirt. You wait until you hear him on the stairs before you move. You go to the linen cabinet and take out some new sheets.Â
You make up the bed, crawling over it to tug a corner tight. You donât often have company. A whistle cuts through the air and you quickly back up off the bed, embarrassed at having your bum right up in the air. The sheriff leans in the doorway, grinning.Â
âThatâs a nice skirt. Fits ya real good,â he purrs.Â
âThank you, sheriff. All done,â you sniff and fix the collar of your blouse.Â
âNow, you hear anything, be sure to come get me. Itâs a big house, ainât it?âÂ
âYes, sheriff. I will.â You near the door but he doesnât move.Â
âIfân ya scared, you can always bunk with me,â he raises his brows and licks his lips.Â
âIâm alright, sheriff. I hope you sleep well.âÂ
âYou too,â he finally moves, just inside the door frame. âSweet dreams.âÂ
âYes, good night, sir,â you scurry out.Â
âI know Iâll be havinâ nice dreams,â he slithers.Â
đĽ§
Youâre restless. Sleep doesnât come easy as the winds whistle and the panes shake in the window frames. Itâs more than that keeping you awake.Â
The sheriffâs just on the other side of that wall. Sleeping, but still there. It was only ever you and your  daddy. Company feels strange.Â
You toss and turn. You roll around enough to agitate your bladder. You sigh. You wonât sleep with the urgency pressing. You get up and tiptoe to the door.Â
You go into the hall and creep down the bathroom. You close yourself in and flip on the light. The release is not much of a relief. Youâre tense and uneasy. You wash your hands quickly and open the door. Your hand pauses before the light switch as a shadow greets you.Â
You yipe at the sheriff as he stands in only his white briefs and undershirt. He yawns and scours you with he droopy eyes. His lifts his head and bats away the sleepiness.Â
You hug yourself. Your nightgown feels thinner under his gaze. He presses his hand to his chest and hums.Â
âFunny runninâ into ya. Lookinâ mighty scrumptious, ainât ya?â He drawls.Â
You clasp your hands over the neckline of your nightie, âsheriff, I was just--âÂ
âWhat was you doinâ?â He leans in, his hand on the door frame. âWas you thinkinâ of something fun?âÂ
âNo, sir, just had to... go.âÂ
âMm, mm, mm,â he looms over you, âyou wasnât thinkinâ of openinâ my door, was ya? Sneakinâ into the bed, keepinâ warm?â His eyes drift down to your chest and the fabric bristles against your hard nipples, âcold in here.âÂ
âNo, sir, I wouldnât--âÂ
âYou wouldnât? Is it âcause you such a good girl, hm? You tellinâ me a girl like you ainât been with no boys?âÂ
âSheriff?â You nearly shriek.Â
âWell, look ya, baby girl,â he growls and lumbers closer, backing you into the bathroom. âYouâre mighty fine. Might fine.â He grabs your hips and pens you in. âAny manâd be lucky to get you.âÂ
âSheriff,â you whimper and push against his chest. âPlease, Iâm tired. I want to go back to bed.âÂ
âWhy? You gonna go hide and touch yourself? Gonna think of me?âÂ
Is this a nightmare? Itâs too distorted not to be.Â
âI donât do that, sir.âÂ
âYou donât?âÂ
âN-no, sir, and I donât want to talk about that--âÂ
âYou should,â he growls. âYou should try it least once. Know what ya like.âÂ
âPlease,â your voice quavers. âYouâre scarinâ me.âÂ
âIâm scarinâ ya? How so, baby girl? You know I wouldnât hurt ya.â He sucks his teeth. âIâd be real gentle.âÂ
You nearly choke. Silence curdles as you stare at him in horror. You know what he means. Heâd be gentle while heâwhile you--Â
You push him and elbow by him. Horror keeps you moving. You wonât look back. You canât. He chuckles.Â
âYâainât got now humour, you youngins,â he taunts. Â
You get to your door as the trickle of his stream hits the toilet water. The door is open, shining into the hallway. Heâs so blatant, so unafraid, you canât help but wonder what you did to encourage him.Â
đĽ§
You spend the rest of the night awake, watching the door. You donât think Bodecker would let himself in but you also never expected him to corner you like he did. Each time you close your eyes, you see his. That shine in them; that darkness.Â
No, he wouldnât do anything. He was just messing with you. Your daddy always says he has a strange sense of humour.Â
You canât lay in bed all day. Even if you want to hide. After last night, you have to make sure your daddy is okay.Â
You make yourself get up and get dressed. You donât hear the sheriff. You sneak to the bathroom to go through your usual routine then emerge at last, ready but not.Â
You go to your daddyâs door and knock. He doesnât answer. You donât expect he would. Especially after last night.Â
Hinges creak and you lock up. You knock again. You should just go in.Â
You turn, pressing your back to the door. âJust checking on daddy.âÂ
âSuch a good girl,â he is unkempt as he emerges.Â
Again, he has only his briefs and his undershirt. Now that itâs brighter, youâre agape to notice the tightness in his lower half, the tension of fabric draw over his... part. You keeps your eyes up. A shake of hair juts up and his eyes are puffy with fatigue.Â
âIâll just have a look then go start breakfast,â you say.Â
âNow, now, baby girl,â he charges toward you, âyou go and start now. Iâll see to the old man.â He drags his knuckles up and down your arm. âI dreamt of you.âÂ
You blink, âyou did?âÂ
âSure did, but donât compare to the real thing. Canât,â he grins. âYou got bacon? I like bacon.âÂ
âYes, sheriff,â you gulp and back away. âThanks uh... for checking him. But, er, he gets real mean in the mornings.âÂ
âAll the better I should deal with him.âÂ
You sidle away, cautious. You turn at the stares and keep yourself from barreling down. You stop at the bottom to gather your wits. Heâs not going to hurt you. Heâs playing around.Â
You go into the kitchen and get started. Eggs, bacon, bread. You light the stove and a hear a thumping. You pause and listen to the house. You hope your daddy isnât causing too much trouble for the sheriff.Â
That noise comes again. You only realise then itâs not upstairs, itâs the front door. You leave the pan on the burner and go into the entry way. You open the door sheepishly and peek out. Itâs that man from the day before. The one that carried your bag. Howâd he find you?Â
He says your name and smiles. His brown eyes are warm and deep. You blink at him.Â
âHe-hello,â you murmur. âWhat, er... Arvin?âÂ
âYou remember. Yeah, I was just passinâ by and I saw the cruiser out front.âÂ
âHuh? You meanâyou need the police?â You ask.Â
âNo, no, I can take care of myself. I was just... concerned. Thought maybe you were in need of help.âÂ
âNo, um, but... how... how did you know I'd be here?âÂ
âYesterday, when I walked ya. I could go until I was sure you were back safe,â he explains. âThatâs all. Long as youâre good, I'm good.âÂ
âOh, uh...âÂ
âWhoâs that then?â Bodecker asks as he comes down the stairs heavily.Â
You wince and back up. You canât close the door, that would be rude, but you donât know that you should let the sheriff know that this man followed you home.Â
Bodecker sighs and comes down. Youâre thankful he put his pants on at least. He grabs the door and rips it out of your grasp. You shuffle aside.Â
âRussell, whatcha botherinâ her for?âÂ
âNot bothering, sir,â Arvin grins. âI was just confirming our planes. Sheâs cominâ with me to the soda shop this afternoon and I was making sure she donât forget.âÂ
The sheriff growls. âIs that so?âÂ
âSure it is,â Arvin sets his stance. âGonna get her a cherry soda float. Right?âÂ
He looks at you. You donât know what to say or do. If you say no, then you have to explain that you led him back here. Plus youâd have to reject Arvin and heâs been so nice. If you say yes then... then you have to go out with him and you donât know him very well.Â
âYes,â you eke out. âYes, I like cherry.âÂ
âWell, itâs not even eight in the morninâ so you be off, boy,â Bodecker swings the door shut and faces you. âWhereâs that bacon at?âÂ
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Any chance for something with Nick Fowler, little spicy. Maybe not respecting personal space because youâre his and why should he, even if you donât know that yet.
Sending all the love and best vibes for the weekend!
I didn't get to add too much spice, and this does go into semi-dark territory, but I hope you like it!
All Nighter
Pairing: Soft!Dark Nick Fowler x Female Reader
Word Count: Over 530
Warnings: Sexual harassment, possessive behavior
Ever since you started working for him, the handsome Director of the CIA had no sense of personal boundaries. The man always found an excuse to touch you whenever possible; the small of your back or your hip whenever he guided you through an open door, rubbing your shoulders while you sat at your desk, brushing up against you when you were at the copier. At first you told yourself he was just a touchy-feely person, but you noticed that he never put a hand on anyone else and kept a respectable distance.
So why was it different with you?
âSweetheart, whereâs that file I asked for?â Nick called from his desk.
You counted to three in your head. It was bad enough that he made you stay late, now he was adding pet names on top of it? You were seriously considering filing an HR Complaint against him. âOne moment, Mr. Fowler,â you replied, making sure all the needed papers were in the folder.
Nick didnât look up when you walked in, too busy reading the piece of paper in front of him. âSet it right here,â he said, tapping a spot close to him.
âYes, sir.â
That made your boss lift his gaze, his blue eyes glancing at you from head to toe. You almost faltered when you walked around the desk to set the file down, his stare too dark, too lustful. âDid I tell you how nice you look today?â he asked, brushing a hand along your backside. You tensed up when he did it again. âYou look nice every day.â
âMr. Fowler-â
âWhat happened to âsirâ?â He leaned back in his chair with a smirk. âI like how that sounds.â
You took a breath. âYou canât keep⌠doing that,â you said, taking a step back.
His hand gripped your wrist, preventing you from moving back any further. âWhat exactly am I doing?â
âTouching me and using pet names with me. Youâre my boss, and that crosses a boundary,â you explained. Holding a position of power didnât give him the right to abuse it.
Nick didnât release you as he stood up, and your heart only raced faster when he tugged you close. âYou think Iâm crossing boundaries now, sweetheart? I havenât even bent you over my desk yet,â he smiled, like a wolf about to eat the lamb.
You tried not to let it show how nervous you were, but everyone else on the floor had gone home for the day. âYou canât just-â
Your mouth snapped shut when he gripped your chin and leaned in close. âI canât do whatever I want because youâre mine,â his breath ghosted your trembling lips before he let you go, your legs shaking where you stood. âYou just donât know it yet.â
Nick sat back in his chair and opened his file like he hadnât said or done anything. You didnât understand. Why you? It didnât matter. You had to quit. You could find another job. Maybe-
âYou wonât quit, and you wonât talk to HR. So, why donât you just relax and order us dinner?â he said, his voice crawling over your skin. âWeâre going to be here all night.â
Love and thanks for participating in Ficlet Friday! â¤ď¸
If you're still taking ficlet requests, maybe a dark or soft dark Bucky who works for your dad?
I hope you like where I went with this, nonnie!
Dollhouse
Pairing: Soft Dark!Bucky Barnes x Female Reader
Word Count: Over 900
Warnings: Toxic family, implied cheating (not reader or Bucky), drug and drinking reference, inspired by the song Dollhouse. Soft!Dark Bucky Barnes and implied future dubcon/noncon.
You didnât want to come home for the weekend. You lost track of how many times you told your dad that. It didnât matter that you werenât a child anymore or that you werenât living at the mansion. The expectation was that you would play the part of a supporting daughter in front of his employees no matter what. It was laughable, if not utterly sad. Either most didnât know your family was far from a happy one or they didnât care. And why would they as long as they got what they wanted?
Places, places, get in your places. Throw on your dress and put on your doll faces.
âDad, Iâm going to change and go for a swim,â you announced.
Your dad along with the group of men that surrounded him turned their heads toward you. Most of the men averted their gazes after a moment, except for one: Bucky Barnes. Ever since he started working for your dad he took an unexpected interest in you. He was always asking about your personal life, and he seemed all too happy when your recent relationship ended. Your dad, of course, loved him because he was a hard worker and made him money.
âWhereâs your brother?â your dad asked, making you look away from Bucky.
âCouldnât tell you,â you answered. If you had to guess, he was off in his room getting high.
âOkay. Just enjoy your swim, princess.â You did your best not to roll your eyes at the nickname. âBut make sure youâre set for dinner. Your motherâs cooking your favorite.â
You did roll your eyes this time, and Bucky continued to stare. Your mom never lifted a finger in the kitchen. Sheâd order out and make it look like she did it herself.
Everyone thinks that we're perfect. Please don't let them look through the curtains.
âOf course, dad,â you said, leaving without another word and feeling a pair of cold blue eyes follow your every move.
The chatter from the main room filled the hall as you went to your room to change, the sound muffled once you shut the door. You blocked it out as best as you could as you selected one of your bathing suits and changed. You hoped your mom wouldnât drink too much and embarrass herself at dinner. You also hoped your dad was smart enough not to bring a side piece around until after she passed out. It could be a little entertaining though if your brother ran his mouth.
Picture, picture, smile for the picture. Pose with your brother, wonât you be a good sister?
âWell, look at you.â
Your heart leapt to your throat when you turned around to see Bucky standing by your bed. He held your cover up in his hand. How the hell did he get in your room so quietly? Why was he there?
âWhat the hell are you doing?â you demanded.
âSorry. I was trying to find the bathroom,â he said. A terrible lie, like he didn't even try. âSuch a large place, you know. Easy to go through the wrong door.â
âDo you normally pick up garments that donât belong to you when youâre 'lost'?â you asked, trying to take it from him.
He pulled his hand out of reach. âNot normally, but I couldnât resist,â he said, not hiding the lust in his eyes as they landed on your chest and slowly drifted down. âYou know, you have a pretty fucked up family.â
âTell me something I don't know,â you scoffed.
Everyone thinks that we're perfect. Please don't let them look through the curtains.
âAllow me,â he offered as his gaze flickered back to your face.
âNo, thanks,â you said, attempting to grab the cover up again as he narrowed his eyes.
"Turn around,â he ordered, his voice deeper and gruffer than before. âI won't tell you twice.â
Tell, not ask.
You hoped your trembling wasn't noticeable when you turned and faced the mirror, having to look at his reflection as he slowly walked up behind you. He was handsome, you couldnât deny that, and large. He could overpower you easily.
âThis is such a beautiful color on you. Must drive all the boys crazy when you wear it. Also must be why your daddy keeps you locked up as much as he can,â he said more to himself than to you as he ran a gloved finger down your side. âBut Iâm not a boy, am I?â
âHe doesnât keep me locked up,â you whispered, unsure of why you were arguing. Maybe it would distract you from his touch.
He brought his mouth to your ear, his eyes locked with yours in the mirror. âYou think because you live on your own that youâre free? That you arenât watched at all times?â He asked, chuckling when you shivered again. âYou may be your daddy's princess, but you'll be mine soon enough.â
âWhat are you talking about?â
âI make your dad a lot of money. He owes me.â He straightened up and slipped the fabric over your shaking frame. âAs much as I hate to cover up such a beautiful piece of art, I may lose control if I don't,â he said, as if he had the right to do so. âKeep your door unlocked for me tonight.â
âI won't-â
He had a hand around your throat, but didn't squeeze. âYou will,â he said, kissing your temple. âAnd we'll see if you can keep quiet.â
Love and thanks for participating in Ficlet Friday! â¤ď¸ And this one may be fun to continue.
Pairing: Alternative!Bucky Barnes x Cheerleader!F!Reader
Word count: 5.2k
Summary: You were always a sensible girl â an angel some would say. But how quickly are you willing to shred your wings when the devil himself is so damn tempting?
Or, Bucky Barnes, collegeâs resident bad boy, upturns your ethics, your morals, your life when you invite him to support the cheer teamsâ fundraising kissing booth.
Warnings: College AU, bad boy v. good girl trope, inexperienced!reader, Bucky has tattoos and piercings, pet names, unwanted groping (not from Bucky!!), violence, mention of blood, sexual tension, almost kisses.
Authorâs Note: Unbetaâd. Divider by @saradika-graphics. Part 1 of 2 â this is a build up to the smut. Hope you enjoy!
The fundraiser season was upon you â an event your college went a little crazy for every year and as a new member of the cheer squad, it was a main part of your duty to join in with the festivities.Â
A proposition of a kissing booth, shyly put forward by yourself had become a hit amongst the rest of the cheerleaders that they instantly approved of â most of them, at least. It was all in good spirit to raise money for charity.Â
And so wanting to gather hype around the event â one you had tirelessly worked day and night to put together â you and your best friend, Sharon, volunteered to hand out fliers together. The two of you wandered aimlessly around the courtyard in your team uniform to spread the word.Â
âI think this is going to be really good, sweet,â Sharon excitedly spoke over her shoulder as she stapled a flier onto the notice board. âI checked our hashtag on the school's twitter page this morning and weâre already trending.â
Your eyes widened and you spun your head towards her in shock. âReally?â Whipping out your phone from your skirt pocket, you quickly brought up the app and checked the post â already the most anticipated fundraiser of the night. âThat was fast!âÂ
âMhm,â she mumbled, nodding her head. Slyly, she looked over at you from the corner of her eye. âI bet youâre excited about all those hot and sweaty football players who are gonna be lining up for a kiss.âÂ
Your head snapped up from your phone with your mouth parted, struggling to scold her. âSharon!â you squealed.Â
âWhat?â The smirk on her face was all too teasing for your liking. âYou know most of them are gonna be desperate for a small piece of you, sweets.âÂ
Your cheeks grew warm, an embarrassed heat growing up your neck as you stumbled over your words. âN-No I donât think soââ
âCâmon babe.â Sharon stopped what she was doing and cocked her hip towards you with a raised eyebrow. âYou really donât see the boys practically drooling over you?âÂ
Honestly, you didnât see it. Spending most of your time practicing your routines or studying in the library, there was no time to worry about boys and you didnât have much experience within the relationship department anyway, which made you blind to any advances.Â
âEven if they did, theyâre not my type.â You shrugged, not giving in to the disbelieving expression on Sharonâs face. âIâm serious! Iâm just not into that.âÂ
âOkay, sureâwhatever you say.â Your friend playfully taunted you with a smile until her gaze locked onto something behind you. A small frown appeared on her lips and a not-so-subtle sneer lined her cheeks. âJust so long as it isnât them, for fucks sakeâthe last thing you need is an asshole like that.â
Spinning around, you squinted your eyes, looking for whoever Sharon was talking about. A group of students, dressed collectively in hoodies, leather jackets and combat boots were gathered around the bike sheds with a cloud of smoke billowing over their heads.Â
âWhatâs wrong with them?â you asked inquisitively, genuinely stumped for her dismay.Â
âTrust me, sweets. You donât want to get wrapped up with those people. Theyâll fucking eat you up and spit you back out,â Sharon replied.Â
Leaning on your tiptoes, you spotted a familiar face in the crowd. âWell, what about Wanda? Sheâs with them and sheâs not an asshole.âÂ
Your friend seemed to struggle to come up with an answer to your question. âThatâs different. Sheâs part of our squad and sheâs actually nice.âÂ
That didnât appease you, though. âCouldnât that mean the others are nice, too?â
Sharon was protective, fierce to those she loved and held dear. She had befriended you the day you bumped into each other on the field for practice; when your eyes were holding back tears after Daisy, the second in command cheerleader, made a remark with her friends about how on earth you had managed to be accepted onto the team.Â
Since then, the two of you have been glued at the hip â like sisters you dared to think. Her advice was gospel to you and so you took her word seriously. âSweetie, theyâre no good. Just trust me.âÂ
âOkay,â you sighed as you turned back around. A solemness took over as you remembered that you had been benched to the sidelines for your very own event. âI donât actually think Iâll be working the booth anyway. Daisy said she only needs me on clean up duty.âÂ
Sharonâs body suddenly tensed with aggravation.
âExcuse me?â Her eyes were burning with fury as she turned to look at you. âDaisy said what now?â
âT-That I have to clean up?â you offered once again unsure.
Your friend scoffed. âShe canât do thatâshe has no fucking right to do that. You came up with the idea!âÂ
The intensity of her anger, even when not directed at you, was overwhelming and your eyes darted down while you mumbled disheartenedly, âI know but what can I do? What she says goes.âÂ
The fire in Sharonâs eyes was unlike anything else as she went on a tirade of rage â her own dislike for Daisy getting the better of her.Â
You zoned out of the conversation, not wanting to dwell on the upset Daisyâs disapproval of you caused. Instead, you counted the rest of your fliers, satisfied to at least have made progress for the day.Â
Just as you were about to jump back into the heated conversation, laughter behind you caught your attention. While Sharon was busy brewing in her hatred, you glanced over your shoulder to once again look at the group you had become so intrigued by.Â
The colourful paper in your hand, rustling together with the slight breeze drew you to look at them. You only had a few fliers left and you knew Daisy would have something to say if you came back with them.Â
A lightbulb dinged in your mind. Your head snapped up; your whole face lit up with the prospect to gain a wider audience for your event.Â
Sharonâs voice became clear then. âI canât believe she even has the audacity when sheâs not even the head cheerleader. Such a stuck up biââÂ
âWe still have fliers left!â you interrupted your friend mid sentence, feigning shock as though you had only just noticed. She stopped talking and frowned while you began to walk backwards. âM-Maybe I should just head over there to hand them out. We do need all the people we can get after all.â
Looking behind you, the direction of your steps, her eyes widened once she saw where you were going. âSweetsâ,â she warned, as though she was talking to an animal ready to run. âCome back here, please.âÂ
But there was no use; you had already spun around and started skipping on over. âHeyâWait! Get back here you little shit!âÂ
The pleats of your skirt bounced along with you while you giggled, your shoes scuffing along the pavement until you stopped in front of the large group. With the little confidence you had, you cleared your throat before squeaking your greeting over the loudness. âHi!âÂ
Instantly, conversation amongst everyone died down, every single person turning their head to you. A pin drop could be heard over the busy courtyard.Â
The amount of beady eyes, all wondering who had interrupted them, caused an overwhelming anxiety to fester in your stomach. Regret soon sank in as what small bout of bravery you once had soon whittled away once you gained their attention.Â
Swallowing the lump in your throat, you were sure everyone heard your gulp before you forced yourself to speak. âIâI um, just wanted toâto hand these out.â Your hands shook as you held the vibrant fliers up â the red and pinks contrasting to the sea of black and greys staring you down like prey. âFor our fundraiser cel-celebration.â
The awkwardness dragged on in the silence and your skin crawled with nerves. This was a terrible idea. Sharon was right, you should have never come over and instead listened to her. But you were soon pulled from your inner turmoil.Â
A brooklyn drawl, raspy yet smooth cut through the deafening stillness at the same time a tall figure stood up in the crowd, whistling low as he feasted on you. âWell ainât you the prettiest lilâ thing, hoppinâ on over in your short skirt.âÂ
It was difficult, even in the daylight, to make out the face of this stranger; long shaggy brown hair, hidden behind a hood. Even partly elusive, you had never seen anyone like him before, but you couldnât deny the tingles that shot up your arms and made the fine hairs stand on edge.Â
His thick-soled boots, covered in buckles that jingled with each step, thudded menacingly along the concrete while he made his way over to you. And as the sun hit his face just right, thatâs when you saw his eyes, bright blue and sparkling; giving attention to his silver nose ring. Â
You were held to your spot, breathless and squirming. Though you tampered yourself as he drew closer and finally came before you, one step away from touching your toes. âSo, whatâs this you got planned, sweet thing?â
A gruff blonde with cropped hair and a sleeveless denim jacket snorted behind him, a thick scruffy beard decorating his face. âGo easy on her, punk.âÂ
The stranger that had you a little starstruck brought himself even closer â within an inch of you â crossing his arms behind his back and squinting curiously to look directly into your eyes, a gleam in his own.
You were intoxicated by the smell of leather and smoke, a combination that should have made you feel sick and yet rendered you dizzy with heat. The spell he bound you with held you in a deep trance. âA kissing booth,â you whispered timidly.Â
âOh?â He grinned wide, a huff of fresh mint from the gum he was chewing combined with his aroma. âA kissing booth, you say?â
âItâs for charity.â You licked your lips with hesitation. âYouâumâyou pay for a ticket and in return a girl of your choosing from the team can k-kiss youââ A sudden thought that you had no idea who you were talking to stopped you from continuing and you shook your head apologetically. âIâm sorry I didnât catch your name.âÂ
The man in front of you smirked, sinister and perverse. His eyes darted between your own while you trembled, close to breaking a sweat. âYou can call me Bucky, sweetheart,â he replied, smoothly.Â
Murmurs and quiet chatter from the rest of Buckyâs friends picked up while he took you in, his eyes clinging to the bare skin of your thighs, barely covered by your cheer skirt.Â
You began to introduce yourself, too. âMy name isââÂ
âOh, I know who you are.â The corner of his lips curled up while he dragged his eyes lazily up your body. âIâve seen how you move. The twirls and spins and shit, lookinâ all cute.â Â
âY-You have?â you asked in shock, surprised to find he was already familiar with you.Â
âMm, Iâve heard all about you.â He nodded, before cocking his head behind him. To your surprise, you looked and found your squad mate, Wanda, who threw you a sly wink. Your attention was brought back to Bucky, gliding his pierced tongue across his pearly white teeth. âA cute bunny showing off her tricks is kinda hard to miss.âÂ
His presence was all too intimidating, but one of the sweetest addictions you knew would give you an all time high. You couldnât keep still, switching your weight between you feet as subtly as you could possibly manage. Opening your mouth, you readied yourself to respond until Buckyâs eyes flicked to your side.Â
An all too out of breath Sharon, weary eyed and scary looking stormed towards you. Uncaring for your new friend, she stood in front of him, blocking his view while her hands grasped your upper arms to check you over. âSweetie! Are you okay?âÂ
The strenuous effort to tear your eyes away from Bucky was almost impossible. âMhm,â you mumbled noncommittally, finally able to bring your gaze to Sharon. âIâm okay.â
Leaning to the side, Bucky caught your eyes once again as he asked. âWill you be workinâ, sweetheart?â
Confusion fogged up your mind, disorientated as your eyes played tennis between him and your best friend. âIâm sorry?â
âThe kissing booth.â He reiterated, standing straight to pluck the cigarette tucked behind his ear. Those damned eyes never left you while he placed it between his lips and grabbed a light from his back jean pocket. âWill you be workinâ it?âÂ
âOh!â You shook your head, trying to get out of your daze as he lit his cigarette. âIâumâI donât know. I donât think so. Technically?â Nerves made you ramble on. âIâm sort of workingâbut I wonât be near the booth andââ
Stepping forward, Bucky gently pushed Sharon out the way. âHey!â she huffed, glaring at him. But he ignored her in favour of closing the distance between the two of you. Â
He placed his thumb over your lips, effectively silencing you as he took a drag of his smoke and blew it out to the side of you with a smirk. âYouâll be there, Bunny.â Your eyes fluttered when he chucked your chin and winked. âMake sure of it and you wonât regret it.â
Struggling to come down from floating in the clouds, you almost whined as he teased his finger along your neck when he stepped back â his chilled rings lit your nerves on fire. You stared hopelessly after him as he started to walk backwards away from you to his friends. Â
âIâll bring some of these fuckers too!â he shouted over the growing distance between you, gracing you with one last grin. âGood for business and all.âÂ
You sighed, a love-sickening one that caused your friend to roll her eyes. Sharon clicked her fingers in your face, snapping you out of your haze. âSweets!âÂ
You shook your head and your hooded eyes darted over to her. âHuh?âÂ
Sharon grabbed your shoulders, a firm scolding ready on her lips. âListen to me,â she implored. âYou need to stay away from him. Heâs bad news.âÂ
You swallowed, unable to help the flicker of your eyes back to Bucky, watching as he threw his head back while he laughed, his full head of long hair framing his face beautifully.Â
Sharonl cleared her throat pointedly and you snapped back to her, a guilty expression to your features. âOkay?â she reiterated.Â
You begrudgingly nodded, and she sighed, seemingly appeased for now. Looping her arms through yours, she pulled you away and began to speak about your fundraiser once more.Â
When once, incessant talk and arrangement of the kissing booth would have spilled from your lips, you held quiet; basking in whatever the hell had just happened.Â
It was impossible to stop yourself from looking over your shoulder once more. To catch a final peek of Bucky, and your heart jumped as you caught his steel eyes already focused on you. Glancing back to Sharon, she was in her own world, already deep into discussion about decorations.Â
Discreetly, you turned around, happy to find Buckyâs gaze still reciprocated and so you waved, small enough to not catch your friendâs attention. You held back a squeal, fighting to stave off the bubble in your throat that was desperate to escape when he brought his inked hand up to his mouth and blew you a kiss.Â
It was a couple of days later while you were grabbing your books for your next class when you next saw Bucky. Earlier than expected but not at all in the way you imagined.Â
You were at your locker, reaching to the back for that one annoying book that always seemed to hide from you. Your back was turned to the busy corridors, other students passing by as your fingertips ghosted along the textbook you needed when the feel of someoneâs hand groping your ass caused you to jump in fright.Â
Spinning around in shock, you came face to face with an all too pleased Tony Stark â the schoolâs rich playboy. âHey, sweet cheeks.âÂ
The sleazy grin he donned made you feel queasy, but to avoid confrontation, you instead laughed nervously, hiding your discomfort. âUm, h-hi, Tony.â
He leaned his arm over your head against the lockers, trapping you in with no way to escape. âHow havenât I noticed you before, hm? Nothing better than some fresh meat on the cheerleading team.âÂ
Beginning to squirm, you shifted away as best as you could with hardly any distance between you â the unease you felt clear from your expression. âExcuse meâIâm sorryâyouâre justâa little too closeââÂ
âLet me take you out tonight,â he interrupted, careless to your lack of comfortability. âIâll show you a real good time.âÂ
Alarm bells started to ring in your head. The fact that he had touched you without permission in such a crowded place and continued to ignore your requests unsettled you deeply.Â
You looked around frantically, trying to silently scream for help. But no one batted an eyelid to your situation.
âTony,â you quietly said, not wanting to cause a scene. âIâm not interested and Iâve really got to goââ
âDonât be a prude, babe.â A lump tightened in your throat as Tony pawed at your waist, his clammy fingers digging into you harshly. âItâs not a good look on you.âÂ
Fear clouded your ability to shout out. Sharon wasnât there to be your knight in shining armor like usual and you clawed down your cries as best as you could. To your dismay, tears began to gather over your waterline. âPlease. Justâjust move back and we can talkââÂ
âItâs okay,â he whispered against your neck. âJust say yes and Iâll take care of you.âÂ
Closing your eyes tight, you willed for him to leave you alone, your fingernails digging into your palms so hard they created indents into your skin. His breath against your neck made you desperately want to crawl out of your skin, his unwanted touch and proximity more of a burden than a compliment.Â
You were rendered useless, weak. His heavy weight pinned you down to the lockers and left you unmoving. Overwhelmed, your breathing started to become erratic, panicked and just as you thought you couldnât take it any longer, Tonyâs presence disappeared and the air rushed back to your lungs.Â
A loud commotion sounded on the other side of the hallway, but the blur of it all was disabling. It took you a while to gather the courage to squint your eyes open and once your vision became clear, you gasped at the sight of Bucky slamming Tony against the other side of the lockers, holding him up by his shirt with an unparalleled fury in his darkened eyes.Â
âB-Barnes!â Tony squeaked in shock. âHeyy there, take it easy big guyââÂ
Bucky jolted him brutally another time. âWhat the fuck do you think youâre doinâ to her?â he growled, venom in his voice and a tone that held no room for humour.Â
Tony laughed, apprehensively. âCâmon man, we were just having some fun.â
Disgust was clearly visible on Buckyâs face as he reeled back, only serving to make him angrier. âFun?â he scoffed. âYou think itâs fun beinâ a fuckinâ creep? She told you no.âÂ
Soon enough, a mob of students had gathered around the commotion, filming with their phones and whispering amongst themselves in anticipation for a fight.Â
You watched as Tonyâs cheeks flared red, the embarrassment of being so easily overpowered by Bucky in front of the whole school paralysing him when his eyes suddenly shot to you, a vein bulging from his forehead.Â
You cowered back as much as possible, covering your body with your arms while he spat, âAre you fucking kidding me? Sheâshe wants it! Look at her! The bitch is practically begging for it in that skirt.âÂ
There was a stilted pause, a deathly quiet over the hallway before a chilling laugh echoed from Bucky. âYouâre gonna fuckinâ regret that.âÂ
A flock of shouts and cheers bounced off the lockers as Bucky threw Tony to the ground. Without remorse, he grabbed him by the scruff of his shirt before he tried to desperately crawl away and pummeled him to the floor with a single punch, the silver rings on his fingers cutting the skin of Tonyâs cheek and smothering blood over his face.Â
You winced as you heard Tonyâs pleas for mercy as Bucky continued to lay into him. The sight should have worried you â Sharonâs previous warnings clear as day in your head â but your thighs rubbed together instead, an ache between them leaving you equal parts aroused and concerned.
The one sided fight seemed to be over within seconds. Bucky stopped, letting Tony flop to the floor, gifted with an instantaneous black eye and most likely broken nose.Â
Stepping over his body, Bucky squatted down, a grave warning grunted as his chest rose and fell with adrenaline. âIf you ever talk about Bunny like that again, or even look at her.â He paused, laughing sadistically. âWho am I fuckinâ kiddinâ? If you dare breathe the same air as her again, I wonât be so fuckinâ kind next time.â The humour died from his tone within seconds. âAre we clear?âÂ
When he didnât hear a response from Tony, he forcefully kicked his boot into the side of his ribs. âI said, are we clear?â
âY-Yes! Yesâpleaseâweâre clear!â Tony coughed out a quick reply, the pain in his voice evident.Â
Satisfied, Bucky swept his long hair back from his face and stood up. He caught his breath for a moment, hands on his hips as the students watched on, just as mesmerised as you.Â
But he paid them no attention as he suddenly brought his gaze over to your direction. He had no trouble finding you as he towered over the crowd and they immediately parted the way for him while he strode towards you.Â
You held your breath when he reached you and immediately cradled your face with his hands â his delicacy while he handled you compared to Tony stunned you. He wiped the remaining tears away with his thumbs as he looked at you with concern. âAngel, are you okay?â
It took you a while to respond, still reeling from the previous events. âIâI think so,â you stuttered, though not from fear of Tony anymore.Â
Buckyâs hands gently fell down to your waist, the cutout of your uniform allowing him to touch your bare skin. âDonât worry, baby. Iâll make sure heââ
As he lightly squeezed your hips, you inhaled sharply, a shoot of pain radiating through your body.Â
Bucky instantly stopped in his tracks and quickly lifted his hands, only to find bruises in the shape of fingertips staining your skin. A dark cloud fell over his cerulean eyes. âThat fucker,â he growled, turning to shoot daggers at Tonyâs form still crouched on the floor. âIâm gonna kill him.âÂ
Before Bucky could lunge back at him, you grabbed at his arms, a desperate need to keep him close. âNo!â you cried, waiting until he whipped his head back round to you as you pleaded, âPlease stay with me.â
His gaze flicked back to your bruise, confliction locking up his muscles. âBunny, he fuckinâ marked you. No way am I lettinâ him get away with that shitââ
You grabbed his hand and began dragging him along, away from everyone still lingering and staring at the two of you. âPlease, Bucky?âÂ
The fury dissolved from his features, your sweet request too difficult to ignore. âOkay,â he sighed, following you blindly as you led him into an empty storage closet.Â
Locking the door behind you, you turned the light switch on. There was limited proximity between you in the tight space, but Bucky seemed to have no qualms being so close to you.Â
âIâm sorry,â you whispered, diverting your eyes away from him and fidgeting with the hem of your skirt.Â
You didnât see the confusion on Buckyâs face, how perplexed he was for your apology. âBunny,â he called for you, waiting until you looked at him. âWhat in the fuck have you got to be sorry for?âÂ
Your breaths started to come in heavy, lips trembling as you tried to hold your tears back. âI didnâtâI didnât mean toâto cause a fight,â you sniffled. âI shouldnât have been wearing my uniform andââÂ
âHey,â Bucky cut you off, stern and resolute. His fingers sweeped your hair out of your face gently. âYou did absolutely nothinâ wrong, you hear me?â
Your eyes darted down, however he was quick to catch your chin with his forefinger and thumb. âLook at me.â
With glassy eyes, you did just that, reluctant but submissive to his order.Â
Bucky wrapped his hand around the back of your neck, his thumb running back and forth soothingly, âDonât you ever apologise for that shit.â His blue eyes bore into your soul. âI beat the shit out of that fucker because he deserved it. No one talks to you like that and gets away with it. You understand, baby?âÂ
Timidly, you nodded your head. âMhm.â
âI mean it.â He reiterated, determined to make you see sense.Â
You werenât convinced, Bucky could tell. Delicately, he smoothed his free hand over your waist. âBesides,â he shrugged his shoulders, a teasing smile crawling onto his face. âMy Bunny looks fuckinâ hot in her uniform.âÂ
Heat began to creep up your neck and a nervous giggle escaped from your lips. The anxious knot that had built in your stomach slowly began to unravel in Buckyâs presence.Â
âThere she is.â He stroked your bottom lip with his thumb. âCâmon, sweetheart youâve gotta know how fuckinâ good you look in that outfit, waving your pom poms and puttinâ on a show.â
âYouâve watched me?â Your breathing picked up.Â
âCourse I fuckinâ have. Knew you were somethinâ special when Wanda mentioned you.âÂ
You relaxed into his hold, melting from his touch. However, from the corner of your eye, a flicker of dark red running down from his hand down to his wrist caught your attention.Â
You gasped, grabbing his hand and turning it to get a better look at the damage to his knuckles. âBucky! Youâre bleeding!âÂ
He raised his eyebrows, a little surprised to see he was in fact bleeding. Laughing it off, he tried to ease your worries. âAh sweetheartâitâs nothinâ. Donât even worry about itââ
âLike hell I wonât!â The unexpected fire in your voice stunned Bucky as his eyebrows rose in shock. Thinking on your toes, you spun around towards the shelves. âLet me find something.âÂ
While you were busy rummaging through storage boxes, you missed the heated glint in his eyes and the subtle squeeze of his own dick through his denim pants.Â
You searched until you found an unopened pack of bandages along with some ointment cream. Softly, you took his hand over to the old sink in the corner and began washing the dried up blood staining his skin.Â
Bucky watched intently while you gently cleaned him up, your tongue stuck out between your lips as you wrapped the bandage around his knuckles in concentration.Â
âThere. Good as new.â You smiled happily with your work and without thinking, you carefully lifted his damaged hand up to your lips to kiss over the bandage.Â
The realisation of how bold your action was finally caught up to you. With caution, your eyes flitted up expecting the worst. However, your mouth slightly dropped open as you noticed the wicked glint in his eyes while he stared you down like a wolf. âYouâre just precious, ainât you, angel?âÂ
You didnât have the chance to respond as Bucky spun you around and cornered you against the wall. You should have felt as vulnerable as you did with Tony, but you only whimpered with curious delight as tingles shot down your spine.Â
Your noses bumped together when Bucky moved in even closer, lips so close to touching. âThis okay, Bunny?âÂ
Fighting off a shudder, you quickly nodded without hesitation. âYes.â
He chuckled breathily. âI havenât stopped fuckinâ thinking about you.âÂ
Common sense seemed so far from reality as you closed your eyes and rested your head back against the wall. His scent dizzied you, his whole presence threw you for a loop. How the hell had he gotten into your system in such a short span of time?Â
âYou know Iâd kill anyone who tried to touch you like that donât you, baby?â Your fingers tangled into the lapels of Buckyâs leather jacket while his soft lips teased yours. âNo one else can have you. You were mine since I laid eyes on you.âÂ
âOhâBucky.â Just as wrecked as you, he began to lean in and you closed your eyes in anticipation for his kiss. All he had to do was push forward, connect the remaining distance and claim you.Â
But to your luck, the school bell for the beginning of class rang loud through the hallway. Sense came back to you then. Opening your eyes, you quickly untangled yourself out of Buckyâs hold.Â
You half-expected him to be annoyed, but instead he had the biggest grin on his face, almost predatory.Â
Skittishly you started to walk backwards towards the exit of the storage closet. âIâum,â you began. âI need to goâgo to my class.âÂ
Bucky smirked even wider while he combed his ringed fingers through his messy hair and then slid his hands into his pockets. âMhm,â he mumbled devilishly.Â
âIâll s-see you around?â You offered, lamely while you fumbled with the handle of the door. Your nerves built even higher when he started to stalk towards you and the simple task of opening the door seemed impossible.Â
âYou sure will, Bunny.â Bucky gained closer, a couple of steps away from you when you finally managed to swing the door open with urgency.
Hurriedly, you excited the closet, breathing heavily. But you shrieked as you collided into another person. Turning around to apologise, your words died on your tongue when you found the person you had bumped into was none other than Sharon.Â
âSweets?â she asked, instantly concerned at your flustered state. âWhatâs wrong? Did something happenââÂ
Then, her eyes glanced behind you, a scowl appearing on her face while a disheveled Bucky exited the same closet you just stumbled out of.Â
You gulped as her fierce gaze shot to you. âI can explain.âÂ
âWeâre having a serious talk.â Once again, Sharon dragged you away from Bucky and you fought to keep up to pace with her.Â
You felt like a child being pulled away from their favourite toy. Bucky was trouble, that much you knew. But of course, you couldnât help but look over your shoulder â a common occurrence it seemed â and you also couldnât help the grin that crept onto your face as you watched him wiggle his fingers at you in goodbye with a wink.Â
Trouble had never looked better â with horns and a tail that could make heavenâs most loyal angel want to sin.Â
Pairing: Bucky Barnes x female reader (friends to lovers)
Word Count: 2.5K
Summary: You have to attend a close relative's wedding and there's no one better to bring than your best friend, Bucky.
Author's Note: Seeing so much of happy Seb lately-and looking so good-made me want to write something sexy and fluffy so here we are. Thank you all so much for reading! Much love always! â¤ď¸â¤ď¸â¤ď¸Divider by the lovely @firefly-graphics thanks Daisy!đĽ°
Warnings: soft and sweet, tense and flirty, Bucky is the best in every way!
âCome on up. Room 322.â
His thumbs hang limply over the phone screen, his brain going blank.
When he sent the text ten seconds earlier to let you know heâs arrived he figured you would meet him down in the lobby or at the hall.
Meeting you in the hotel room is a problem he anticipated when he gave himself a pep talk before leaving.
âSheâs your best friend. Donât do anything stupidâŚlike go to the hotel room.â
His fingers finally start to move over the letters. âI can meet you down hereâŚâ
But maybe you need help with something?
He deletes the text, now typing, âis there anyone with you?,â but that just sounds weird and possessive.
âI can see you typing,â you text. âJust come up. I need help.â
With a laugh, he deletes everything again and types simply, âbe right there doll.â
His long legs carry him quickly to the elevator and when he presses the button for the third floor he takes a deep breath, his pulse climbing itâs way up his throat.
The door to your room is propped open with the dead bolt, but he knocks anyway.
âCome in Buck!â
Pushing it open just enough to peek his head in, he calls out, âI could be anyone, and you just invite me in without checking!â
âYou just texted me you were coming up,â you sing from the bathroom, quickly continuing before he can say more, âand most of the people on his floor are friends or relatives here for the wedding.â
âWell, Iâm glad to know you take your safety as seriously as I do,â he shouts back.
Your voice gets louder as you walk into the bedroom. âWith you around I never have to worrâŚâ
You stop for a breath when you see him, but your next words are lost to the blank void of his brain as he takes in your dress and how you look in it. To put it simply- stunning.
âBucky?â
He startles, having no idea how long heâd been silent.
âYeah dollâŚthatâsâŚIâm here.â
When he finally drags his eyes to your face, youâre fighting a smile. âI asked if you could help me?â
âOh, right. Sure. With what exactly?â
He cringes but steps closer.
âMy dress?â
You turn around to show him the fabric at the back that hangs open, a tiny zipper dangling down at your lower back.
Trying to suppress a groan, but not being entirely successful he swallows hard. âThat zipper looks very tiny.â
âIt is,â you agree. âI realize I should have asked someone with smaller hands to help me out, but everyone is running around with their own nonsense so here we are.â
He approaches with a casual, âsure, of course doll.â
But then he does something without fully realizing it until the shiver runs along your back: he drags a knuckle down the curve of your spine.
You turn and look at him over your shoulder.
He just blinks and looks down to grab the zipper, mumbling about how small it is.
Itâs quiet as he carefully pulls the zipper up and when he reaches the top he lets it fall and gently runs a finger along the top of the dress as he moves around to look at you.
âAll set,â he whispers.
You smile and clear your throat before giving him an appreciative once over.
âYou look hot.â
âThanks doll. YouâŚâ and he struggles when his voice comes out a bit strangled, âyou look breathtaking.â
You reach up and touch his bow tie, pulling at the neatly tied ends as you tell him, âI was hoping youâd arrive a flustered mess over how to tie this so I could do it for you.â
With a grin, he reaches up and tugs the end, untying it in a smooth pull.
âFigure you should do something in return after I battled that zipper,â he teases.
Still smiling, you take a hold of the tie, tugging it to align the ends evenly around his neck. âI didnât get the impression it was such a hardship.â
His answering smirk is so telling you have to stifle a laugh.
âAre you feeling ready for this? I know these big events arenât your favorite.â
âIâll manage just fine doll, thanks. Besides, Iâve got the most beautiful date in the whole place.â
With your focus still on his bow tie he takes the opportunity to openly stare. When you smile at his sweet words heâs mesmerized by the way your soft lips part and his eyes stay glued to your mouth.
You look up to meet his gaze and he quickly lifts his eyes, a light pink sweeping across his cheeks.
You blink away and he looks down at your hands, noting the very little progress youâve made.
âDo you have any idea what youâre doing?â
âWellâŚyes. Iâm sure I canâŚâ
âYouâve never done this before, have you?â
âYou might be right!,â you quip, âbut Iâm no quitter.â
Heâd be happy to stand there all night.
You finally step back, surveying your work, and frown. âIâm going to be honest, not sure I made it look as good as you did.â
He looks down and undoes the mess and you glower as he handily fixies it.
âWow, no need to gloat you butthead.â
He lets out a full-bodied laugh, eyes crinkled, and nose scrunched, and you enjoy the sight before he explains, âIâve done it a million times. Iâm always the one in the tux when we go undercover.â
âThatâs because youâre the one that looks the best.â
âThanks doll,â he answers quietly.
âThere are so many people here,â you whisper as you lead him through the crowd in the hall.
He letâs out a low whistle, nodding in agreement and aking in the dĂŠcor.
You greet people as you walk, introducing Bucky to those that donât already know him. Their eyes follow you, curiosity piqued in their expression as they wonder who he is to you.
You wonder the same. Your favorite person in the world. Your best friendâŚand so much more?
You take his elbow and guide him forward toward the outside set up where the ceremony will take place. On the way you find your grandmother and introduce him.
Since he canât take his eyes off you he notices the subtle shift in your demeanor, the softening of your face and the adoration in your eyes.
He expects a gentle handshake but instead gets pulled in for a hug.
âOh darling, isnât he a sight,â you grandma says, patting Buckyâs cheek. âAnd you,â she says, turning her eyes your way. âGorgeous.â
âThanks grandma,â you beam.
A woman whizzes by, catching your eye and pointing to her watch.
âLooks like itâs time,â you announce.
Bucky holds out one arm for your grandma and the other for you.
âAnd a gentleman too,â your grandma gushes as she loops her arm through his. âDefinitely a keeper.â
âYou can keep grandma company,â you say as you approach the chairs.
âOf course, doll,â he says and leans in to kiss your cheek before helping your grandma into her seat.
âIâll see you after the ceremony.â You gather your dress and turn to head back inside to meet the wedding party. âMiss me,â you call over your shoulder with a playful smile.
He stares as you walk away, quietly admitting, âI already do.â
Slight nerves take over when you hear the music start but the moment you walk out into the crowd your eyes zero in on Bucky. And what do you know? Heâs looking right back at youâŚand he doesnât take his eyes off you the whole ceremony.
After the ceremony it takes forever to work your way through the crowd to him, and in between catching up with friends and family or directing someone somewhere, you catch glimpses of him smiling and laughing with your grandma and happily keeping her company.
When you finally do reach him, your grandma has been safely escorted to her seat and now a woman hangs off his arm- Jessica. You know her, an old family friend, and you like her well enough, but you step up behind them right as she asks Bucky if she can steal him for the first dance, and your stomach drops.
You jerk to a stop. He hasnât seen you. He should accept. Youâll hate it, but youâre not in any position to protest.
But then Bucky says only a gentle, âsorry, no can do. Tonight, Iâve only got one dance partner.â
Your heart nearly leaps out of your chest, and you step closer, swallowing down the emotion.
âHey you two!â
Bucky turns, extracting his arm from Jessica and setting a warm palm at your lower back.
âAnd here she is. My favorite dancing partner.â
Jessica leans around from his other side and says hello.
âThanks for coming,â you tell her.
âOh my god, of course. I wouldnât miss it. And I was just meeting your friend, James, here.â
She emphasizes the word friend and at her usage of his real name you have to hold back a giggle.
âIsnât he wonderful,â you hum, sliding your hand up his bicep. âHeâs been keeping my grandmother company this whole time.â
She swoons and smiles at Bucky before turning back to you.
âHe is. I just wasnât expecting you to have a date. Youâre usually always flying solo at these family events.â
You feel the smile slipping from your face and an uncomfortable laugh escapes.
The simple answer never comes to you, and you feel caught like a deer in the headlights.
âActually, thatâs only because I was away for work,â Bucky steps in smoothly. âI hate to miss any chance to be her date, but my schedule can be pretty demanding sometimes.â
âOh, youâre so sweet,â Jessica says. âWork is important of course.â
âYeah,â he answers, âbut not as important as her. So, from now I wonât be missing another event.â
Jessicaâs face does a thing. Itâs a barely restrained, âoh okay, I see.â
Buckyâs smile remains but it doesnât look entirely natural anymore but when he looks at you, every emotion on his face is genuine.
âReady to find our seats doll face,â he asks you.
âSure,â you reply.
âWell, it was nice to meet you Jennifer. Enjoy the party.â
With a firm hand, he leads you away. You allow yourself to be guided up the grassy path and indoors to where a band plays. Bucky grabs you two flutes of champagne off a passing tray and hands you one.
âThat was swoony,â you tell him then take a sip.
âAll I did was grab it from a tray doll. Time to raise your bar a bit.â
Laughing, you smack his beefy shoulder with your free hand. âNot that! The way you gently let Jennifer have it back there.â
He takes a sip, eyes on you. âShe deserved worse, but I didnât want to start trouble.â
With your brow raised you match his mischievous grin then you take his glass and set it down on one of the small tables, leading him to the dance floor.
He looks confused at first but when your hands slide up his chest and around his neck he circles his arms around your waist.
He relaxes against you, hands warm and strong on your lower back and you rest your cheek to his shoulder.
âYouâre always so comfy.â
âThank you.â
âAnd you always look out for me.â
He presses a kiss to your temple.
âOf course, doll.â
âYouâre my favorite person in the Universe.â
He doesnât respond at first, not for five or ten or thirty seconds. You keep waiting for the feeling of rejection in his silence but instead it feels like an agreement and finally his words confirm it.
âMine too, doll.â
Your quiet slow dance is the last moment alone you have for the next few hours because what follows is a whirlwind of a reception.
And the whole time he canât take his eyes off you.
âThink Iâm ready to get out of here,â you say as you slump against his side.
He carefully holds you up as he stands and reaches to take your hand.
âCome on doll face. Iâll take you home.â
When you reach your apartment door your feet are aching, and your legs are tired. You retrieve your key from the hidden pocket in your small purse and slide it into the doorknob.
âIâm going to need you to unzip me,â you say, gesturing casually to your dress.
His silence makes you slowly turn around to face him and when you meet his eyes theyâre heavy with heat and desire.
âBucky?â
âTurn back around,â he says gruffly.
You do as your told and feel his exhaled puff of air against your bare shoulder before he takes your wrists in this hands and places your palms flat against the door. His metal fingers slide down one arm then trace the curve of your shoulder, while his other toys with the small zipper.
He starts to pull it down, so slowly, you feel every brush of his skin against yours and it sends a tremble across your body. For every new inch of your skin that he exposes his breath quickens. You can feel the heat of him so close and your fingers press into the hard wood of the door.
Once the fabric hangs loosely at the sides he stops and slips his hands inside to your waist and turns you back to face him.
âYouâre so soft,â he murmurs. âIâŚâ
You drag your fingers along his temple and down his jaw. Your finger falls to his bottom lip, tracing itâs outline.
You can see it in his eyes, the understanding that everything between you is easy and you donât have to try. Itâs too good.
Your gaze drops to his lips again and your mouth goes soft. âKiss me Bucky.â
The words are just barely out of your mouth and heâs already leaning in, lips on yours, warm and urgent, his hands rising to cup your face. Your instincts send tight, possessive fists to the lapels of his jacket and you melt completely into the domination and tenderness in his touch.
With a quiet groan he tilts his head, deepening the contact into a decadent slide, sending a hungry hand down your body once again and grabbing your ass to press all your softness against the hard planes of his body.
He catches your bottom lip between his teeth, drags slowly away, and you chase the contact, but he stops you, pressing his thumb over your lips.
He stares for what feels like forever, then kisses you again, lingering before he murmurs, âyouâre so beautiful,â into the sensitive skin below your ear, and then repeats it quietly into your neck.
âAre you going to stay the night?â you ask breathless.
2025, lets GO. 18+ Minors dni. A teaser of my thots. Donât know whatâs wrong with me and tbh I donât think weâll ever find out. But I canât stop thinking about this manâs cock. Such a pretty, pretty, super soldier cock. In the most descriptive way imaginable. Imagine a touched starved menace Bucky. The way heâd want to be touched, how fucking good it feels when your lips wander to his most sensitive areas. Getting him so horny, heâs telling you every damn thing his cock is feeling without holding back because heâs so desperate.Â
âSuck the tip angel, pleaseâ The last word nearly melts into a sob because youâve been teasing him for far too long and you know exactly where he wants you.Â
âYeah? Why should I baby?â You coo, rubbing the sides of his thighs, âWhatâs so special about that, mâalready sucking you hereâ Your lips drag up his shaft, letting your tongue lave up and down, ignoring the little mess heâs making with precum dripping from his slit.Â
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Warnings: non/dubcon and other dark elements. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.
My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.
Character:Â thick!Bucky Barnes
Summary:Â Your new job isnât all that you expect. (maid AU â short!reader)
Note:Â hate me, baby.
As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. Iâm happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging â¤ď¸
As Buckyâs lips cover yours, your eyes round and you press your hand to his stomach. Beneath the softness, there is hard muscles. His hand, the real one, cradles your head as his tongue flicks along your mouth, begging for more. You quiver and brush your hand higher, pushing on his chest as your breath catches in your chest.Â
His touch, his embrace is animalistic. Itâs desperate. Itâs urgent. You wriggle beneath him, trapped between him and the bed.Â
He slips his lips away from yours, smearing a kiss along your cheek. You squeak as his other hand twines down to yours and frees it from between your bodies. He brings it to his lips and kisses your knuckles, pecking them with low hums. Â
He marvels at your fingers, unfurling them forcefully as his eyes glimmer, and he guides your palm against his cheeks. He nestles into your touch like an affectionate pet, biting his lip as his gaze flicks up to your stunned stare. He brings your hand along his jaw and down his neck.Â
You shiver at the sight of your bodies flush together. You beneath him. His naked form trapping you against the bed. He drags your touch to his chest and pushes your fingertips into his pec. You gasp as you watch the stolen affection.Â
He kisses you again, pulling your hand around his side. You hook your arm around him as he nibbles along your lower lip. He growls and pushes his tongue into your mouth. You struggle to breath as he suffocates you.Â
He rolls his hips, rocking slightly between your legs as frictions rubs against your pelvis. You squeak as you feel his length through your jeans. You curl your fingers into the meat of his back and whine into his mouth.Â
He draws away as you puff breathlessly, turning your face away as he drags his nose along your throat. His body writhes as his shoulders round and his back curves. He seems to spasm as he slides his hand beneath your back, grinding against you with a snarl.Â
âI need you, doll,â he rasps as his nose tickles your neck. âIâm sorry, I need it so bad.âÂ
You can only whimper as your lip trembles. You couldnât stop him if you tried. The way he carried you up here, how heâs put himself on you like this, and so easily bowled you over. Even if you had the courage, you donât have the strength.Â
He pets your cheek and lifts himself over you. His blue eyes shine down and you flutter your lashes. Fear surges through your body.Â
âPlease,â he breathes and rolls you over with him.Â
He brings you to straddle him as he flips onto his back. You steady yourself on his chest, your hands tiny across his bulging muscle. You stare down at him, mindless as you wait for what comes next.Â
âTouch me, please,â he covers your hands with his and guides them up and down his chest, pushing them to his stomach as you lean back. He tenses and lets go, his hands clutching at the blankets.Â
You keep your hands moving, trying to hide the tremble in you. His fingers dance up to your legs and along your thighs. He feels you as you feel him. You stare at your hands, watching as if they arenât your own.Â
He grips your hips and pulls you down against him. He groans and tilts his hips under you. He bares his teeth and shakes. His chest fills and he rocks you over him.Â
You murmur and latch onto his wrists. You look down between your legs as he moves your body and his together. His tip peeks out with each thrust as he rubs himself against your jeans. A tingle stirs in your stomach and speckles down through your pelvis. Â
You squeeze his arms and whine. What is he doing? He pushes his head into the mattress and his eyes roll back under his lids. He grunts and groans as the mattress moves with him.Â
He snarls and spasms under you, stilling you as he shakes, thumbs jabbing into your hips. His cum spurts up his stomach as he rolls through his climax and hisses through his teeth. His head falls to the side and he shudders, his motion easing.Â
You sit atop him in the stagnant loft air. You look around at the bed and slowly release your hold on his wrists. His hands trail down to your thighs and he exhales with a groan.Â
He doesnât move. His chest rises and falls and he brings his arm up over his face, hiding behind it as he pants. You lift yourself cautiously. His other hand slips down to the bed.Â
You watch him as you climb off of him. The bed jostles with your movement as his short breaths rise like growls. You sit on your knees next to him and your hand crawls over your belt. You look around the room; a boxing bag hanging from rack, a bookshelf, the bed, a closet... itâs all quite normal.Â
You free the cloth tucked into your belt and turn to him. You wipe up the mess on his stomach and he winces. He drops his arm and opens his eyes. He watches as you clean up his cum silently.Â
âDoll,â he reaches for you.Â
You recoil and jump off the bed. You blink at him and your teeth chatter in fear. You look at the cloth in your hand.Â
âIâll keep cleaning,â you utter dumbly.
You turn and scurry away. He huffs after you but says nothing. You step down through the hatch and get a foothold on the stairs. You descend so quickly you nearly fall off the last step. You hurry to the kitchen and shove the cloth into the trash can.Â
You go to the sink and flip the tap up. You hold your hands under the scouring water and watch them tremble. Thereâs a dampness on your jeans, youâre not sure if itâs him or you. All you know is that you need to get out of here.Â
Loved this chapter! I canât tell if Bucky is just a taker and expects people to give, or if he thinks she likes him and itâs okay. Or both, maybe. đ¤ since heâs dark. I mean, weâre so tiny here. We need a big, strong man to help us.
Warnings: non/dubcon and other dark elements. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.
My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.
Character:Â thick!Bucky Barnes
Summary:Â Your new job isnât all that you expect. (maid AU â short!reader)
Note:Â hate me, baby.
As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. Iâm happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging â¤ď¸
Bucky coughs. You hear him through the wall. Your earbuds are still in your pocket. The smell of coffee pervades the apartment.Â
The door opens as you unload the dishwasher. He emerges with a cloud of steam from the shower, along with the smell of his soap. His hair is damp and messy, his beard shining with moisture as his eyelids slit.Â
"Doll," he stops on the other side of the counter as you keep your attention on the dishes. You are aware that he was only a towel around his waist, that realisation making the plate clack loudly as you put it away. "Can ya close the curtains for me?"Â
"Sure," you agree and leave the dishwasher open. Â
He lumbers to the couch and sits. You glimpse him as you tug on the cords to draw the curtains. You quickly hide around the corner as you return to the kitchen.Â
He groans as you try not to clink the porcelain too loudly. You feel bad for him. You can tell just by looking at him how much he hurts. You've always had a bleeding heart.Â
You roll the rack back into the dishwasher and close the door. You grab your phone and chew your lip. He would probably prefer to be left alone. Still, you can't see how trying to help is bad.Â
You approach him as the results load on your phone. You hover behind him as you scroll. His breath startles you as he heaves.Â
"Need something?" He asks without looking back.Â
"Erm," you wince and shuffle around the couch. You hold out your phone. He narrows his eyes at the screen and scowls. "For your head?"Â
He watches the video and shrugs. The gesture catches your attention for a split second. His right arm is just as thick as the metal one, muscle taut and bulging. His chest looks softer under a mat of dark hair and his stomach overhangs the towel just a little.Â
"Too much work," he grumbles and his eyebrows twitch with the effort it takes to speak. He touches his forehead and growls. Â
You lower the phone, "sorry."Â
"...unless," he drops his hand and looks at you, agony sewn into his expression. "You could..." he looks at your hands. "Doll?"Â
You glance down at your hands, clutching your phone tighter. You watch the video of the 'scalp massage', fingers kneading into thick strands. You bring the screen closer. Â
"I can try," you say at last.Â
Your gaze meets his again and he nods. He bends forward and hangs his head. He grips the cushions as his hair falls over his face. Â
You rewind the video and set the phone beside him so you can see it. You rub your palms together anxiously. You raise them and hesitate above his head.Â
"Will you let me know if it hurts?" You ask.Â
He laughs then groans. "Sure, doll."Â
You touch his hair lightly then weave through his locks until you meet his scalp. You press your fingertips in and swirl them like the video. He grumbles again and you stop. Â
"Keep going," he rasps.Â
He leans into your touch. You firmly knead his head as you stare at his wet hair. A few strands of silver thread through the dark tangle. Another droning noise rises from him.Â
His breath deepens enough for you to hear it. You move your hands around his head as he leans into you, more and more. You hope he feels better even as your anxiety peaks with his snarls.Â
Is this okay? You probably shouldn't have done this. Even if he is in pain. You could be fired for unprofessional behaviour. Â
As you curl your fingertips against his scalp, he moans. You yelp as suddenly he reaches to clamp down on your wrists. He stills you but doesn't shove you away.Â
"I'm sorry," you squeak as he lifts his head.Â
He keeps hold of you as he looks at you. His face is tense, jaw squared, eyes foggy, a vein coursing in his forehead. His grips tightens dangerously as you whimper. He looks... feral.Â
"I'm sorry," you apologise again.Â
He growls. Like an animal. He stands as his thumbs run up and down the insides of your wrists. You gape at him in horror. You're in trouble.Â
You say sorry again and again and again as he walks you backwards. He turns you around the couch and continues around to the foot of the spiral staircase. You wriggle and whine as you as good as dangle from his grasp. Â
He jars you suddenly, pulling you against him. He lets you go as you crash against his stomach. You shakily press your palms to him but can't get away.Â
You look up at him, "Bucky," you quaver, "I'm sorry if I hurt you."Â
"No," he breathes and grabs you by the waist, "I'm sorry if I hurt you."Â
Before you can process his words, he hauls you up and over his shoulder. He turns to the stairs and hooks his arm around you to keep you steady. His other hand slides up the railing as climbs the steps.Â
You squeak and lightly brush his back, "Bucky?"Â
He doesn't stop. The ascent makes you even dizzier as you hang over his shoulder. You don't understand what's happening. What is he doing?Â
He angles you through the hatch and up into the loft. That's against the rules too. You're not supposed to be up there.Â
"Please, I'm sorry..."Â
He carries you across the room and bends to put you down. He sits you on the foot of the bed and you quiver as he stands straight. His hands go to the front of the towel, slack around his hips. You peer up at him.Â
"What did I do?" You eke out.Â
He puffs through his nose and pulls the towel free. He bends and cradles your head. His nose touches yours and he snarls. He urges you back until you're flat and you tremble at his mercy.Â
Warnings: non/dubcon and other dark elements. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.
My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.
Character:Â thick!Bucky Barnes
Summary:Â Your new job isnât all that you expect. (maid AU â short!reader)
Note:Â hate me, baby.
As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. Iâm happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging â¤ď¸
You're a little less addled as you enter the condo that day. You have a soft playlist going as you carry your kit through and roll in the vacuum. The sunlight beams large rectangles across the hardwood as the shadows of the frames skew between. The air is still and as placid as the melody in your ears.Â
The list guides you. Even as you could recite it by rote. You can never be too careful. You turn the corner into the living room, the TV glaring blue across the space. Â
You round the couch to grab the remote. Strange, the coffee table is pushed back. Your toe brushes something on the floor and you stop short.Â
You look down at the body on the floor.Â
Concern ripples up your spine and swells in your throat. Is Bucky okay? His shoulders curl forward as he hugs a pillow, legs bent under the thin throw blanket usually folded over the back of the couch. It's only his low snores that assure you he didn't collapse there.Â
You sway above him. Even as he lays on the floor, you feel tiny. Should you wake him? You glance up at the television and decide better of it. You've been a part of a similar tableau. Sleepless nights are often a battle, especially alone.Â
You shut off the TV and retreat. You'll wait to do the front room. You look up the spiral staircase. The metals too noisy. What can you do that won't disturb him?Â
You turn off your earbud and put it away. You'll have to be careful of everything you do. The silence is dense. You don't often let it pervade your life. You always have something going; music, a show, an audio book... anything to keep you from drifting.Â
You start small, wiping down the cupboards with a dust cloth. There isn't much to catch but one day can make the difference.Â
There's still no step stool. You make sure he isn't around when you lift yourself up on the counter and work on your knees. You should ask but you also hate to be demanding.Â
Despite the odd circumstance, it's calm. You stay alert as you work through the lost, out of order, but you do what you can.Â
Will he wake up soon? You hear a groan followed by a murmur. You can't understand it. You turn the faucet on, keeping the stream slow, and wash up the few dishes left near the sink. The smell of the citrus dish soap wafts in the air. As do his snores.Â
The snorting rhythm reassures you. They don't stop even as you chance your ascent upstairs. You use the small hand broom on the steps. You find that's easier. Slowly you make your way down until a metallic chink startles you.Â
You turn on the steps as Bucky squints sleepily at you. He wears a pair of briefs, his shoulders draped in the throw blankets, as his thick hair hangs in puffy tangles. He rubs his chest, scratching there as you avoid looking below his groggy face.Â
You push yourself against the narrow railing as he grips the bottom. You do your best to make room for him to pass.Â
"Time?" He asks.Â
You wince and fumble to free your phone from the holder on your belt. "Eleven."Â
He sniffs and nods.Â
"I know it's not on the list, but... coffee, please."Â
He backs up and rubs his temple. You can tell by how he moves that he has a headache. You didn't expect a super soldier to fet those. Â
"Yes, sir," you leave the hand broom on the step so you can remember where you left off and stand.Â
You come down cautiously. You don't like how narrow and steep the climb is. Bucky goes to the couch and drops down heavily. You glance over as he grips his skull.Â
You keep your phone out and google the instructions for his coffee machine. You don't have one yourself. You find the bag of grinds and load it up. You add water to the tank then hit 'brew'. Simple enough.Â
You wait for the machine to finish and pour a mug. You turn to face the front room. Buckyâs head rests against the cushion as he remains unmoving. You tiptoe over and peer around. The coffee tableâs too far to put the cup down. You stare at him as his eyes are firmly shut.Â
âSmells good,â he sits up and reaches for the mug. You hand it over. âYou can help yourself.âÂ
You fold your hands and offer a tight smile, âno thanks. Very kind though.âÂ
He groans and nods, bringing the cup up to inhale the scent. He blows over it before he drinks. You wince. âOh.âÂ
His blue eyes flick over to you, âwhat?âÂ
âOh, I didnât... didnât ask if you put anything in it.âÂ
He shrugs, âblack is fine.â He takes another deep swig and clears his throat. âYou wouldnât believe the dirt water they put in field rations.âÂ
You dip your chin and shrug, âuh, oh no.âÂ
âDonât worry about it,â he grumbles as he cradles the mug in his large hands and leans forward, elbows on his thighs. âJust... talking.âÂ
You nod and put your hands behind you. He glances at you again. You canât read his expression. Is he annoyed?Â
âGoddamn,â he exhales deeply and raises the cup to press against his forehead.Â
You watch him, teetering between fleeing back to the stairs and waiting for him to tell you to do so. âDo you need some advil?âÂ
His cheek dimples and he scoffs as he lowers the mug, âdoesnât work for me.âÂ
Your brows pop up curiously, âoh.âÂ
âAnother cup should do the trick,â he drains the coffee and holds out the cup. âAppreciate it, doll.âÂ
âYes, sir,â you take it as a dregs trickles down onto your fingers.Â
âDonât gotta call me sir. This isnât a platoon,â he rubs his cheek. âNot the sergeant here. Just...â his voice trails off and he shakes his head. He stands and rolls his shoulders. âYou can leave the cup on the counter for me.âÂ
He steps towards you and you flinch. He moves around you and you turn to watch him. His feet slap the floor heavily. He must be in rough shape as you usually donât hear him stalking around the place. He disappears into the bathroom, the door clicking shut.Â
You look down at the porcelain. More coffee. Simple.Â
Warnings: non/dubcon and other dark elements. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.
My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.
Character:Â thick!Bucky Barnes
Summary:Â Your new job isnât all that you expect. (maid AU â short!reader)
Note:Â hate me, baby.
As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. Iâm happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging â¤ď¸
Stevie Nicks drones in your ear, her tones added to the airiness of the condo space. The melody guides your diligent work along with the list on your phone. The shelves should be done before the counters, so as to not do the same job twice.Â
You look around for the step stool. There was a collapsible one there, nestled by the pantry. Itâs not there that day. You guess Bucky wouldnât have much use for it. He can probably reach everything just fine. You donât want to be nosy by going on a full-blown search. Youâll just have to do your best.Â
You stand on your toes and reach up blindly. Great. Youâll not get close to even the second highest shelf. Instead of cupboard doors, the plates are stacked openly on the shelves that line the brick. You like the look. Simple but tidy.Â
You are going to have to find the stool if you want to do it right--Â
âOop!â You exclaim as pressure clamps around your hips and suddenly, your feet are off the floor. You wriggle and grab onto the shelf to keep from flailing.Â
You crane to see over your shoulder, looking back at Bucky as he holds you aloft. Thereâs no effort in the act. Youâre nothing but a feather in his hands. You feel powerless in his grasp. You donât dare to tell him to put your down or ask why he snuck up on you.Â
âYou can reach?â He asks.Â
You nod and turn away from his stern expression. Despite the helpful act, he remains stoic and unreadable. You hate the sensation of having nothing between your feet and the height makes you slightly woozy. Youâll just have to be quick.Â
You wipe along the top of the shelves as he sidles you along the length. An awkward tension crawls up your body from beneath his hold on you. His fingertips dip into your flesh as he keeps you steady.Â
You do the next shelf, moving the plates to wipe beneath them before placing them back. Itâs a delicate balance. Once you get to the third, you find your voice. You pause your music as you eke, âI can reach the rest, sir.âÂ
âYou sure?â He checks with you.Â
You nod. He puts you down gently, crowding you against the counter for a moment before he moves away. He turns and opens the metal fridge. You focus on your task, peeking briefly over as he pivots back to the other end of the counter.Â
His hair is pulled back behind his head but several strands hang loose around his face. He has a black tank on, his thick arms exposed, flesh and metal, and a pair of shiny track pants on the bottom. He doesnât acknowledge you as he loads the blender. He clears away the scraps and rinses off the spoon and knife he dirtied in his task.Â
He hits the button and the blender whirs loudly. He angles to lean on the arm of the counter and reaches into his pants pockets. He takes out a long strip of fabric and stars to wind it around his wrist and hand. Youâve seen those. The things that boxers wear.Â
He does only his real hand. The blender stops and he turns to fill a shaker with the smoothie. He goes for the sink and you clear your throat.Â
âI can get that,â you offer.Â
He glances over and shrugs. He grabs his shaker and doffs it at you with a nod. He passes you and heads for the stairs. You peek after him then move to rinse out the blender. That wasnât terrible. You hope. Â
Youâve done your best not be in his way since that first day. Youâre still paranoid by his cryptic stares and long silences. You never minded quiet but this is the sort that gnaws at you. Aside from that, the job is manageable.Â
You shiver as your hip brushes against a draw. Youâre reminded of the weight of his hand there. Both his hands, around you, so easily holding you up. And what did you do but let him.Â
The first heavy thump makes you wince. You spin and look up to the open hatch. He must have a bag up there or something. That makes sense since he wrapped his hand. He looked ready for a workout. It must be good stress relief to just punch something you canât hurt.Â
You tap play on your music. Heart starts to play. Your taste is a bit out dated but thereâs no one to judge you. At the same time, you donât have anyone to share it with. Sadly, most of the artists you love, you canât even see in concert anymore. If you could ever afford that.Â
The steady pounding of the punching bag continues from above. After a while, itâs almost comforting. You finish the kitchen and move on to the front room. As you fluff the couch pillows, the beating stops. Thereâs a hiss and Bucky snarls as he comes down the stairs swiftly.Â
âShit,â he hops past the last few steps and marches into the kitchen. You watch him in confusion as he raises his metal arm. He holds it up as he looks down and touches his side. He curses again as he swipes paper towel from the roll mounted to the wall.Â
âSome help, doll?â He tosses over his shoulder.Â
Heâs talking to you. Right? You drop the pillow and take your earbud completely out. Somethingâs wrong.Â
As you come around the arm of the counter, he turns to you, revealing the wet stain on his tank top. He holds out the paper towel with his other hand. âPressure.âÂ
He gestures to his ribs. You take the paper towel with a tremble and push it against his middle. He puffs behind his teeth and reaches to his extended metal arm. You see the panel sticking out. It mustâve cut him.Â
âDamn thing.â He growls.Â
You blink and look at your hand. His blood seeps through and stains your fingers. You can smell the iron. You gape at the crimson smear as your heart pumps wildly. He pushes the panel flat and lowers his arm. He puts his hand over yours, spreading his thick fingers to completely cover yours.Â
âYou donât like blood, do you?â He says. âI can hear your heart.âÂ
You slip your hand from beneath his as he takes the paper towel. He crumples up the sopping square and tuts. You turn and rush over to your kit. You fish out the pouch you keep tucked behind the sponges. You unzip it and return to him as you pluck out the roll of gauze.Â
He considers the offer before he accepts it. Your eyes meet as his fingers brush yours. You quiver as his gaze bores through you.Â
âYou should wash your hands,â he takes the pouch too. âI got this.âÂ
He turns and stirs through the contents. You look at your hands then the sink. You go to the counter and twist the faucet on. What an unusual day.Â
Warnings: non/dubcon and other dark elements. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.
My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.
Character:Â thick!Bucky Barnes
Summary:Â Your new job isn't all that you expect. (maid AU â short!reader)
Note:Â hate me, baby.
As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. Iâm happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging â¤ď¸
You punch the code into the keypad. The instructions are in the app, under the corresponding address. It took you sometime to find the building, then a little longer to figure out how to work the elevator. As it stopped on the right floor, the grated door struck you with a glimmer of panic.Â
Unlocked, you roll the door back to reveal the condo on the other side. Wow. Itâs quite the place. Spacious. High ceilings, polished dark floors, tall counters. Well, everything is âbigâ compared to you. The world is gargantuan in a way that makes you feel like a spec of dust.Â
You set down your kit and roll in your vacuum. Itâs a haul and a half and you felt a bit silly dragging it all up the front steps of the building. You always feel a bit ridiculous. Like you donât belong. Even in a city so big that youâre invisible.Â
You tap your earbud twice to turn the music up. You always keep one in to ward off the overstimulation of the New York chaos. It helps you through the hours of cleaning.Â
You check the notes in the app. Itâs a long list. The work isnât new, just the place. They chose to give some of your old clients to newer cleaners and you took on the more particular ones. Zuli said itâs because you know how to get in and out without any hint that you were ever there.Â
You start your cautious work. The client has included some very direct instructions. What you can and canât touch. Alright, easy enough. Youâre good with that. Details help.Â
You get to the spiral staircase that leads up to loft bedroom. The instructions say to dust the railings and sweep the steps. It doesnât really look like they need it but it canât hurt. Youâre paid to do the job.Â
You start with the railings. Going top to bottom as you drag a microfibre cloth down the twisting ascent. You go back to the highest step with the broom, the task made awkward as the broom handle pokes through ceiling that would be the floor of the room above. Itâs an interesting set up.Â
As you bring the bristles across the metal step, a shadow shifts over you. The windows are tall enough to let the sky in. You ignore it until a voice startles you from above. âGot an extra cloth?âÂ
Your foot slips as a hand grabs the other end of the broom. You cling to the stick as another hand reaches to catch your arm. You squeak and look up at the man as he bends through the hatch door and keeps you from falling further.Â
âOh, I'm sorry,â you whittle out of your tight throat.Â
âCareful,â he steadies you on the step until you get your balance. He lets go and steps back, standing above you as he looks down through the open hatch. âSo, a cloth?âÂ
You tap your earbud to pause the music. You nod and give a wide blink. You turn and scurry down the spiral steps, dizzy by the bottom. You search your kit and take both the roll of paper towels and a microfibre cloth. You go back to him and offer both.Â
You bat your lashes as you peer up at him. You know him. Well, you recognise him. The hair, the beard, the bright blue eyes. It's Bucky Barnes. What really gives him away are the metal fingers twiddling by his jeans. He bends to take the paper towel.Â
âThanks,â he rasps and walks away without another word.Â
You donât move for a moment. Then you set back to your work. Youâre not there to ogle the famed super soldier. You have your list of tasks. You remember the underlined point on the list. Do not enter the loft. Â
You make a slow descent down with the broom and gather the small cluster of dust in the pan. You dump it and begin on the lower floor. You get about halfway around the front room of the open-concept condo before the silence smacks you across the face.Â
You hit play on your earbud. Thatâs better. You finish up with the sweep and start with the mop. Youâre sure to use the gentle, unscented, all natural cleaner as specified in the app. You suppose a place this nice requires extra care.Â
You bob as you clean, the rhythm of the music soothing your nerves. You canât help by keep replaying your near disaster in your head. Imagine if youâd fallen down those stairs. That would have been painful and just as torturously humiliating.Â
As you finish up, packing up your kit and tie up the trash bag to take out, you sense something behind you. You turn as you wait for the elevator to rise up and blanch at Bucky as he stands at the foot of the metal stairs. How hadnât you heard him?Â
He looks at you then around the apartment. You squirm, too tongue tied to speak. Better off that you donât. Was that on the list? You canât remember.Â
âLooks good,â he says.Â
His eyes meet yours and you flinch. His irises are a blue so bold and deep that they threaten to swallow you up like the sea. And the way he stands. His posture. Heâs intimidating without trying. Or maybe you are a bit of a wuss.Â
You press on your earbud, once more silencing the music. You wait for him to say something else. He doesnât. He goes into the kitchen and opens the fridge. Â
You hesitate and face the elevator again. Tension roils at your back as you hear the glass tingle followed by the hiss of a cap popping free. You push your shoulders up and lift your kit, hanging on tightly to the hose of the vacuum.Â
He must deal with enough leers, he surely doesnât need that from a cleaner. The elevator doors open and you step inside. You roll the vacuum into the corner and go to close the gate. Â
Bucky appears at the threshold as he pulls it across himself. The whole time, his gaze doesnât leave you. He hits the keypad on his side and the lock clicks before the outer doors roll across and block him from sight. You stay there, frozen, even as the elevator jolts into motion.Â
Did you overstep? Miss a check on the list? You hope you didnât mess this up already. You really hate starting all over again. You prefer to know what to expect than to have to keep guessing.Â
Heâs just so intense even when heâs being casual. Iâm enjoying this reader. You write the anxiety and worry really well and itâs making me anxious!!!
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Square Filled: Trying something new in bed for @star-spangled-bingo
A/N: This is for HBCâs Drunk Drabbles! @the-ss-horniest-book-club @the-ce-horniest-book-club / Divider by @firefly-graphics
You lay in one of the motel beds curled up against Bucky while Steve is in the shower. It had been a long two days on mission and the three of you were glad to get to a motel after having spent the last two nights sleeping in shifts wherever you could. As soon as he got in the bed from his shower, Bucky had pulled you flush against him and nuzzled your neck.Â
âMissed having you in my arms, Doll.â Bucky murmurs.Â
âMmm, me too. Iâm glad we can at least sleep together tonight. Iâll look forward to other activities as soon as we get home.â You tease, grinding against Bucky suggestively.Â
âWho says we have to wait until we get home?âÂ
âHaha, Steveâs already getting out of the shower.â You laugh.Â
18+ Minors dni. Seriously, it gets feral in a way I didn't anticipate and I'm the pervert who wrote this.
Bucky sleeping naked. We're back to this again cause I'm a pervert and he's a cutie, I canât help it. Why do I find it adorable. Sexy. So pretty. And the different of versions of this?
Imagine being Buckyâs roommate and having to deal with different types of Buckys. A shy, soft Bucky is always in the softest pjâs, cotton t-shirts and warm sweaters. He is truly the sweetest, more precious thing on the planet, always making you a steaming cup of coffee in the morning and hot chocolate at night.
You donât think much of it when you slip into his room to return the hoodie you stole and you all but faint when you see him practically starfish on the bed, soft snores slipping past his lips, the bedside lamp still on along with the book his was reading half open on his chest but that wasn't what you were looking at cause-
You shouldnât even be here, you should look away, you really should but itâs not your fault that he has the prettiest cock on full display with perfect, heavy balls in between plush thighs. You're not sure how someone so sweet and pure can look this sinful, nearly tearing the hoodie you're clutching onto the longer you wait by the door.
Idk why my mind went here but imagine he's soft but gets hard when he smells you. You're close enough in his room that your shampoo and something so distinctly you fills his senses. It's not his fault his senses are heightened. I mean imagine you see it happen. A cute little groan as all the blood rushes down between his legs, his cock now standing at full attention, stiff and begging. Leaking.
You're frozen on the spot, begging for your feet to move, just drop the hoodie and run, anything but no. He's still asleep, lashes fluttering against his cheeks as his pulse starts to work a little faster, his hand coming down to soothe the ache, his book slipping off his chest.
You should definitely leave now, it's too intimate, you can't be here when he-
"mph" His sleepy movements are barely coordinated as he gives his cock a squeeze, his cheeks getting pinker by the second. He rolls over with his face now buried into the pillow, pressing his hips against the mattress for some relief.
I can't deal.
Innocent Bucky having a wet dream over you.
Innocent Bucky making a mess because of you.
Innocent Bucky acting normal around you the next morning, placing a steaming mug of tea in front of you while you stutter a thank you and he says you're welcome doll, like he always does.
Innocent Bucky still too shy to tell you that he jerks his cock off to you more times than you can count. That he adores you too much, he'd never be so crass to make a move on his roommate. He's still working up the courage to ask you on a date. Till then he's gonna fuck his fist and hump his bed and think of all the ways he wishes you were naked with him, your legs around his waist while he pounds you, filling you up while you scream his name-
-
Fuck boy Bucky shows himself off without a care in the world. You start to wonder if the man owns anything else aside from a few slutty pairs of boxer brief's. He's always manspreading and it's hard to act like it's an inconvenience when he's built like that. That being said, it's not like you've seen all of him. He leaves little to the imagination but it's not like he walked around naked.
You'd never openly admit you were a little curious.
You find out he's put your mug on the highest shelf again and you swear he does it on purpose just to mess with you. You grumble, ready to tell him off, walking right into his bedroom, his full legal name right at the tip of your tongue-
"Fuck-"
His chest rises and falls along with his soft snores, one arm propped under his head while the other is half one his chest. His thighs were spread apart without a care in the world and not a single piece of clothing covered his body, bed sheets also tossed aside.
Apparently the serum made him run hot.
Every single bit of him is on display, the only thing he's wearing are his pretty silver dog tags. You freeze, blinking, your tongue now tied, you were so annoyed with him and now-
"Y'like what you see angel?" His raspy voice makes you yelp as he keeps his eyes closed but the smirk that makes its way to his lips lets you know he's more than awake now. You have no idea when he woke up or realized you were there but you can't get your feet to move, voice caught in your throat.
He doesn't even bother trying to cover up, unbothered at the state you're seeing him in.
Imagine this cocky fuck going as far as giving his cock a lazy tug and he can definitely smell how wet you are. He knows you're getting wetter.
"Need something baby, cause I gotta take care of this or I won't fall asleep" He cocks an eyebrow, nodding down to his hard cock before looking back at you. He's not going to tell you yet that he'd been pining after you with the most desperate crush. That he keeps those mugs up high on purpose so you have to call him to get it for you.
"I-I
"Don't get all shy on me now princess, better lock the door on your way out unless you're gonna stand there and watch?" He gives himself another lazy tug, this one followed by a groan.
Fuckboy Bucky who loves the way you look like a deer caught in headlights.
Fuckboy Bucky who strokes his cock while you watch.
Fuckboy Bucky who lets out a deep, raspy, "Fuck baby, just c'mere" when he hears a desperate whimper slip past your lips.
Fuckboy Bucky who gets you naked with him, not wasting a second to get inside your pussy.
Fuckboy Bucky who runs his mouth too much and mumbles an unconscious "Fuck, i love you" when he starts to cum.