Pairing: Bucky Barnes x F!Reader
Summary: Bucky has been feeling a little insecure about his body and you cheer him up.
Content Warnings/tags: Explicit sexual content, 18+ mdni, fem!reader, piv, dom! bucky, Bucky’s a eater!, angst with comfort, happy ending, lmk if i missed anything!
Notes: All body types are beautiful in their own ways please don’t forget that:)
“So old. No wonder she’s got all these younger agents tripping over themselves just for a bit of her attention. You’re not as much competition to them anymore, you know?”
Sam’s words echoed in Bucky’s head as he stared at his reflection. A rough hand skimmed over his stubbled cheek, catching on the lines that had never been there before. Crow’s feet. Grooves around his mouth. Small reminders that time didn’t stop for anyone. Bucky didn’t care about appearances. Never had. There were bigger things in life than worrying about how you looked. And yet, Sam’s words wouldn’t leave him alone.
You had younger guys chasing your attention now? He guessed that made sense. You were beautiful. Always had been, and somehow even more so as the years went on. He’d seen the way people looked at you. He’d felt it too, even when he didn’t want to. He figured you’d probably get approached in public a lot more if he wasn’t always around. Big, intimidating. Hard to miss. A walking warning sign keeping most people away without a word.
So yeah, it didn’t surprise him. Not really. A woman like you? People noticed. People always noticed. And sure, Bucky himself had dealt with his fair share of attention before. But somehow… seeing it aimed at you now made his chest tighten in a way he wasn’t ready to admit.
Bucky couldn’t lie, Sam’s comment had gotten under his skin. He’d never really thought about it before, but now that the idiot had said it… the thought of a bunch of younger guys trying to get your attention made his chest tighten.
Normally, Bucky Barnes would have made it very clear who you belonged to. No question.
He looked at himself in the mirror. Stressed. Tired. Lines and grooves that weren’t there before. Old. Not like he used to be.
He didn’t care about looks. Never had. But the idea that maybe you weren’t attracted to him anymore… that hit differently. Sharp. Stabbing.
How could he even confront some younger, probably better-looking guy? He’d just make a fool of himself. Maybe embarrass you, too. No, he couldn’t. Shouldn’t.
Bucky let out a heavy sigh.
Turning off the bathroom light, he headed to your bedroom. Clothes came off one by one. Shirt. Belt. Pants. He grabbed a pair of pajama pants from the wardrobe and slid them on, finally letting himself relax a little.
Bucky let out a soft sigh as the cotton of his pajama pants settled against his skin and padded over to the bed. He was planning to read a bit while he waited for you. Talk a little before finally crashing for the night. He liked that. Pre-bedtime talks with you were one of the few things he actually looked forward to. He was about to slide under the covers when he caught the edge of the body-length mirror. He froze for a second, glancing at himself out of the corner of his eye. Then he stepped closer, standing in front of it, straightening up, studying himself.
Bucky’s eyes dropped to the metal arm on his left side. The reminder hit him like always. Broken. Not whole. He winced.
Then he moved his focus up to his face. Dark circles under his eyes. Stubble along his jaw. Hair long, messy, sticking out. And… when did the grey start showing up? He hadn’t really had time to care about grooming lately, but this… this felt different.
He swallowed hard. His gaze drifted down to his stomach. Not fat exactly, but… not slim anymore either. Being a congressman had let him eat whatever he wanted, and it showed. He grabbed the hem of his shirt and lifted it. No abs. Not the ones he remembered. Just… soft, undefined abs.
Suddenly, Bucky felt way worse than he had fifteen minutes ago. He let go of his shirt and stepped back from the mirror, climbing into bed with a heavy sigh and a head full of thoughts. Is this… really what you saw when you looked at him? His stomach felt like it weighed a hundred pounds. He wanted to curl up under the covers and just disappear. He wrapped an arm around himself like it would help, but it didn’t do shit.
He stayed like that. Minutes? Hours? Didn’t matter. Brow furrowed, back hunched, stewing in all the insecurity that had just hit him. And then… he heard you. Humming as you walked in. Bucky couldn’t bring himself to lift his head properly, however he did manage to muster up enough courage to glance up at you from underneath his lashes. When his gaze settled on you, his breath caught in his throat. God, you were stunning. His heart thundered in his chest. You smiled at him, that damn look he loved so much, entrancing him.
Bucky was mute as you chattered on about something Yelena had told her, words sounding like muffled background noise as he simply stared at you in wonder. You began changing your clothes and his eyes strayed to your figure. He inhaled sharply as you undressed, baring yourself to him without an ounce of hesitation. Your body still looked so beautiful and perfect. Your hips were just begging for him to grasp in his hands.
There weren’t enough words in the world to describe you. Your perfection. And then there was your heart. Big. Caring. Full of love. All of it for him. The way you smiled, the way you touched him. The way you said “I love you,” soft or loud, whispered or moaned. Whenever, wherever. Always for him. Always yours. Bucky froze. He didn’t deserve this. Not you. You could do so much better. And if you ever left him… there’d be nothing he could do. Because you’d be better off without him anyway.
Your soft voice pulled him out of it. His eyes met yours, and immediately you knew. You always knew when he was off. Always. That was just… you. Incredible like that.
you asked, pulling him back with that soft, irresistible voice of yours. He could listen to it forever and never get tired.
“Yes,” he said, but it came out stiff. Tighter than usual.
You tilted your head, curious, then sat down on the bed in front of him. Fingers tracing lightly along his skin. Sparks. Electric. Down his forearm, to his wrist, and finally your hand closed over his, small against his.
“Bucky… I can tell when something’s wrong. Be honest with me,” you said.
He froze a second. Then it spilled out, messy, panicked. “Do… do you get hit on a lot when I’m not here?”
The words came out all wrong, tumbling from his mouth like he couldn’t stop them, like he didn’t know how. You blinked.
“Hit on? Yeah… I guess it happens sometimes,” you said, a small, amused smile on your face. “But no one actually tries anything. They’re too scared of what you’d do if you found out.”
“Scared,” he muttered. The word stuck in his mouth, bitter.
You studied him, tilting your head. “Bucky… did someone say something to you?”
“No. Well… yes. Sort of,” he stammered, words tripping over each other. He swallowed and tried again. “Sam mentioned something.”
You waited, silent. Expectant.
He grimaced, running a hand over his face. “He… said I’ve gotten old. That I’m not really competition for your… other admirers anymore.”
You watched him for a moment, face calm, giving nothing away. “Is that it? That’s what’s bothering you? You’re not usually the type to freak out over getting older,” you said, a small smirk tugging at your lips.
Bucky flinched slightly, even though he knew you were joking. Harmless teasing. But still… the embarrassment hit hard. He swallowed it down. He couldn’t let it stop him from talking. This conversation mattered. Communication. Always his weak spot. Always had been. Even after years of being together. Years of this… relationship. Good God. No wonder you might have doubts about him sometimes.
“I… I just… I worry that one day you might… stop being attracted to me,” he said, voice tight, words stumbling out.
Your raised eyebrow made him hurry to explain, defensive now. “It’s not crazy. You’re beautiful… and I’m not exactly getting younger.”
“Neither am I,” you shot back, quick and sharp.
“You… you definitely don’t look it,” he muttered.
You just stared at him. Eyes calculating, like he was a puzzle you were slowly figuring out. Curiosity. Amusement. Something else in there too. Heavy. Rich. Dangerous. Hot. Enough to make him shift in his seat, heart hammering, dick throbbing.
You stared at him for a moment, then a grin spread across your face. You pulled your hand from his and cupped his cheek. “So damn handsome,” you said. “Seriously… you just get sexier with age. Like wine.”
Bucky’s mind went blank. Not at all what he expected. He… didn’t even know what he expected. Pity? Comfort? Some soft reassurance?
Instead, you held his face. Stroking. Looking at him like you wanted him so badly it hurt.
“This face…” you murmured, fingers tracing the sharp line of his jaw. “…so hot. Makes me wanna ride it.”
Bucky let out a sharp breath, mind going blank. He’d never heard you talk like this before. Sure, you two had a sex life, but it was almost always him doing the dirty talking. His throat went dry.
“Can I… Bucky? Can I ride your face? I just love what you do with your tongue… you know the one,” you murmured, slowly kneeling on the bed, leaning closer. So close he could smell you—soft, sweet, and all you.
Bucky’s hand shot out, gripping your thigh, fingers digging into the soft flesh. “Yes. Yes, I know exactly which one,” he said, words coming fast, hot, eager.
“Come here,” he panted, chest rising and falling from anticipation and arousal. “Come sit on my face, baby. I’ll make you feel so good. I promise.”
“You will?” you asked, crawling up his massive body, all broad shoulders and thick arms. He nodded fast, almost frantic, and you couldn’t help but smile. “You’re so sweet, Bucky…”
“You’re sweeter,” he growled when you finally settled above him.
His nose caught your intoxicating scent and he was practically drooling now. You were wearing just one of his oversized shirts and those dark red panties that drove him insane. There was a damp spot that Bucky couldn’t resist pressing his nose to, and you jolted, letting out a little moan. Before you could even think, he had moved the fabric aside and replaced it with his mouth, long tongue dragging a stripe straight up your slit. Your eyes rolled back instantly. No warning. No mercy. But he didn’t care. Impatient. Starving. Needed you. Needed you now.
Bucky lapped at you like a man lost in the desert who had finally found a lake. Drinking you in, making a mess of both of you. Wanted to imprint your taste on his tongue. Wanted to eat you out until you passed out, wanted you shaking under him. When he flicked your clit with the tip of his tongue, you gasped out a moan and tried to move away, the pleasure too overwhelming. But he wouldn’t let you, he took advantage of his metal arm and gripped on it your thighs while the other sank two digits into your gushing cunt. Bucky continued to flick at your clit with his tongue with rapid, fast strokes- this was the thing he did with his tongue that you loved- and simultaneously pumped his fingers deep, deep into you.
“Bucky..!” You cried out, clutching the headboard for dear life and squeezing
your gorgeous thighs around his head.
He moaned at the way you desperately clenched around his fingers, and rewarded you with a curl of them, grazing your walls. That caused a wail to spill from your mouth.
All of a sudden, you started grinding, hips moving against his mouth, fucking his face.
“Bucky, please! Oh, fuck, I’m—! Ah!”
Bucky groaned as your juices kept pouring out like a faucet, coating his mouth, his hand, dripping down his throat. Covered in you, and he loved every second. Loved it.
“Look at you,” he moaned against you, voice low and rough. “Fuck, baby… you taste so good. I love you. I fucking love you.”
You keened, pushing harder, grinding faster, desperate for release. His deep voice, vibrating through you, set your whole body on fire. You sobbed out, letting yourself get lost in it. Tears streaked down your face, and you didn’t care, too good, too much! His tongue was heaven.
“Bucky! I’m gonna— I’m—!”
“That’s it, baby. Let go. Come for me. All over my face…”
With a sob, you came. Hard. Over and over. Felt endless. Bucky stayed under you, drinking every last drop, slurping, licking, letting nothing go to waste. You barely caught your breath before he had you pinned on your back. Chest to chest, heat to heat. He hovered above you, and without warning, sank into your dripping wet core.
You both groaned, loud and messy. Bucky’s eyes rolled back. The second he was all the way in, he got on his knees, hooked your legs over his arms, spreading you wide, and slammed into you. His pace was relentless. Brutal. And you just let him, letting him ride out toward his peak. He groaned into your neck, pumping over and over, the wet, sloppy sounds filling the room.
“You feel so good… so tight. Gonna come inside you. Can I, baby? Can I fill you up?”
“Yes! Yes! Yes!” you cried, gripping his sides. Your hands roamed, sliding over every inch of him, shoulders, back, stomach, love handles. You loved all of him. So damn sexy.
“Please… please come inside me, Bucky!”
A broken groan ripped from his throat. His thrusts sped up, cock buried so deep you could almost feel him in your throat. He came hard, jets of heat filling you, plugging you up perfectly. Bucky moaned low, rough, sending another shiver straight through you, before finally collapsing on top of you. You both stayed there, still, just breathing. Panting. Letting the aftershocks of what just happened wash over you. Every inch of you buzzing.
“Wow,” you murmured, fingers sliding through his damp hair, slow and affectionate.
“Yeah,” he breathed back, a little wrecked, a little dazed. You laughed softly at that.
The room fell quiet again before you spoke.
“You’re the most beautiful man I know,” you said simply. “And if you ever say some dumb shit like that again, I’ll ride you until the only thing left in your head is my name.”
Bucky felt his face heat up instantly. “…That doesn’t sound like a threat,” he muttered.