#buckybarnessmut

You stopped in front of the tower that had watched you grow up, then crossed the street with the team and entered the small convenience store. Leaning over the counter, you smiled at the old man who’d been working there for years.

“What are you up to this time? Haven’t seen you in years,” he said.

“I left some of my dad’s stuff in there, but those people won’t let me in. Can you believe that, Mr. Wilbury?”

Your voice softened into that tone—the one Bucky knew too well. You always used it when you wanted something. He remembered it vividly… how much it turned him on when you used that pleading voice while grinding on his lap and whispering, "Please, soldier.” You were the only one who could call him any nickname and get away with it, because he knew you never meant it in a bad way. Soldier. Old Man—okay, that one he didn’t like so much, and it usually earned you a good smack on the ass, but that’s another story. Sergeant Barnes. Or the classic: "Oh my God, the Winter Soldier wants to fuck me. Someone stop me—actually, no. Don’t. Let me be happy." You’d screamed that once, and he had forgotten all about his tragic past.

“She gets what she wants just by asking. Didn’t break a single thing. How the hell is she the most stable one here when she looks like she’s eighteen?” Ava grumbled. John shook his head, watching you disappear behind the counter and go down the hidden stairs—only to get shoved by Bucky a second later, making him stumble.

“Fuck man...” John muttered.

“Don’t stare too long,” Bucky warned without even looking at him, his eyes fixed only on you as he moved forward.

“Uh, Friday? Can you deactivate the cameras in Elevator A, please?” you asked, stopping in front of the rusty old elevator at the end of the hallway. You pressed your finger lightly to the bridge of your nose, lost in thought. Bucky noticed. That little habit hadn’t changed.

“She still has that thing with her?” Alexei asked. You laughed. If anyone else had referred to Friday as that thing, you’d have told them to go to hell. But Alexei got a pass.

“Yes. She’s linked to all my gear.”

“Your girlfriend’s got expensive taste too, Soldier. Fancy couple.”

Silence fell as the elevator doors opened. You sighed and turned slightly to glance at them before stepping inside, leaning lazily on the railing. One by one, they followed. You ended up sandwiched between Bucky and John, with Yelena in front, next to Alexei and Ava. The elevator felt tighter than it was. Everyone stood stiff. You and Bucky kept shifting, uncomfortable. It sucked to be there. None of you knew Valentina was already waiting.

“You didn’t expect the fight to be here, did you? What a surprise. This place wasn’t cheap, but at least the view’s great,” she said, pouring herself some champagne. “I knew you’d show up. But with Yelena and Ava in the mix, I thought it would be more… violent. Congressman Barnes. Never thought your political career would end here. Captain America that didn’t quite make it.”

John went for his weapon, but Bucky stopped him with just one word:

“Walker.” And you thought it sounded sexy as fuck. He looked sexy too. But that wasn’t the point right now.

“Y/N Stark. Well, that explains how you all slipped in so easily.”

“Cut the crap, Valentina,” you snapped.

“It’s cute, really. I sent you all to kill each other, and now here you are—teaming up against me. With Santa Claus and her.”

“Where’s Mel?” Bucky asked. Your brow furrowed. Jealousy hit your chest hard. It made you want to gag.

“Mel’s having some… trust issues,” Valentina said. That was all she managed before Bucky lunged with his vibranium arm. She laughed as he failed miserably. “I’m not alone. Robert?”

Bob came down the stairs in a ridiculous suit, with ridiculous hair, looking like a completely different man from the one you knew. You’d been in college together a few years ago—before you were taken by Hydra, tortured, and had your biological development frozen. Bone growth and all.

“Wait—is that Bob? Dude. You really went there? Oh my God. Did you dye your hair?”

you asked, breaking the tension. Bob smiled shyly. You meant something to him once. You protected him, believed in him. You even got him a full scholarship. But then you were kidnapped, and… yeah.

Fifteen minutes later, you were all exiting the same elevator. Bucky was slumped over Alexei’s shoulder, missing an arm, dazed. The streets outside were chaos, filled with screams. You stood there, your head aching, your chest tight.

“You knew him?” Bucky asked, adjusting what was left of his arm. You shrugged, watching the road like you were sensing something strange.

“From college.”

“From college?”

“Who’s Mel?” you asked back, changing the subject. Bucky let out a bitter laugh.

“Why are you doing this?”

“Doing what? I’m just concerned, okay? Bob’s powerful. People like that don’t stay in the hands of anyone trying to control them.”

“And how the hell do you know that about him?”

“Oh, come on. We were friends,” you said, rubbing your temple.

“Friends,” he repeated with venom. You laughed dryly.

“Why were you talking to that Mel girl with such a soft voice? You like her?” you snapped, sounding genuinely pissed. Bucky narrowed his eyes.

“Maybe I do. And what if I do?”

He was provoking you, and you took the bait, even though you knew better. Being away from him so long was screwing with your head.

“Yeah? Then go to her, James.”

You turned on your heel, walking away from the building.

“Maybe I will. You said it yourself—we don’t know each other anymore!” he shouted.You looked back with a fake, sugary smile.

“Well, go fuck yourself too, James.”

“Hey! Stop!” he shouted—but before you could react, you stepped into a void.You dropped into a scene you hadn’t seen in years. You kept walking, starting to recognize the pattern. It didn’t make it hurt any less. Watching it all over again still burned.On the other side, Bucky looked back at the others just as a giant Sentinel flew across the sky, carrying New York with it.

Without thinking, Bucky leapt into the void. If it meant death, so be it—he had to find you.Yelena followed, and soon Bucky was trapped inside his own worst memories. Hydra. Torture. Screaming. But then—he saw you.

He found a memory with you, and he stayed there.

You were nine years old, watching your mother get stabbed to death. You screamed, helpless.Another portal opened—and Yelena, John, Alexei, and Ava followed.

“How the hell did you get here?” Bucky asked.

“She’ll know how to reach Bob,” Yelena said, watching the scene unfold.

The memory was full of guilt. You looked twelve, curled up in a hallway while Tony screamed at Pepper behind a door.

“She’s just some silly little opportunist!”

“Tony, that’s your daughter. Have you looked at her? The only difference between you two is that she’s alone. Her eyes are exactly like yours.”

“Well, you take care of her! I don’t want to!”

He stormed off, and the scene reset.Bucky hadn’t known about Tony rejecting you. You’d always said good things about your dad. His chest ached seeing that small, unwanted version of you.Another paradox shattered, and a worse memory appeared—you strapped to a machine, like an animal. Screaming. Begging them to stop. Crying until you passed out. And then it restarted. Again. And again.That’s when Bucky found you—your eyes hollow, expression nearly identical to his. From that moment, he swore he’d protect you.But then he failed.

“I didn’t know,” someone whispered.Bucky just nodded, jaw clenched tight. He didn’t trust himself to speak.Then another portal opened—and jealousy burned in his gut. You and Bob. In bed. Naked. Tangled up like more than friends. His head on your chest—the same chest Bucky had once claimed as his.

That’s mine, he thought, seething.

“what...” Yelena muttered.

“Wow,” John added, earning immediate glares.

“This is my last week here,” you whispered, fingers in Bob’s hair.

“What?” he asked, raising his head—his head. Not Bucky’s.

Mine, Bucky thought again. And this time, it hurt.Bob lifted his head from her chest — the same chest Bucky used to rest on — but the touch was different, the warmth wasn’t the same. That wasn’t him.That’s mine.Bucky screamed inside his own head.

" okay. I didn’t know that" Yelena murmured beside him, uncomfortable.

“You’re leaving me?”

“Bob…”

“You’re giving up after telling me not to?”

“Bob, I… I can’t do this. My head is literally so fucked up rigth now. ”

He stood up, got dressed, and walked out the door, leaving behind a crushing weight on your chest. When the scene reset, Bucky looked for the exit, muttering

" Let’s get out of here. "

Another scenario appeared. Now, Bucky saw you rolling your eyes at Tony and letting out a loud sigh.

“I hate you. More than anything in this life.”

You shouted as you stormed down the hallway.Like a time break, the scenery shifted. You were in space. That moment when everything had gone right with Thanos. You laughed, happy—until you saw him.Tony.Lying lifeless on the ground.You ran to him, stumbling like a madwoman and collapsed at his feet.

“Dad?” You called out, and Tony looked up at you with one last soft smile, took your hand, and pressed it to his right cheek.

“Hey… we won.” Your voice cracked with despair.

Peter was crying behind you, Pepper too, and that’s when it hit you—and you started to cry for real.

“Hey, hey… I’m sorry.”

You repeated, shaking.

“I’m sorry. You can’t leave yet, Dad. I dont hate you, i need you.”

A sob escaped your lips as you hugged him tight.

“I need you. You can’t do this to me, please.”

Your desperate pleas echoed through the battlefield like a prayer no one would answer.

Bucky hated seeing it. But when the portal scene came, it was worse—because then, he saw himself.

You were getting up from the couch sweetly that night. Your hair down, curls falling softly over your shoulders, wearing the pajamas you knew he loved. He had just gotten the paperwork and signatures—it was official. He was the new congressman of Brooklyn, New York.It was supposed to be a good night. But he ruined it.He kept wondering why that memory was so vivid in your mind, as if the guilt belonged to you.

You had poured two glasses of wine for when he arrived. He saw you waiting, glancing at the door, a bit embarrassed, curling into the couch until the sound of the keys finally reached your ears. “Friday?”

“It’s him now, Y/n,” the AI answered.Your gaze dropped to Bucky, and forcing a smile — fake but warm — you walked toward him gently, always so delicate.

“I was expecting you earlier,” you said in your soft voice, too soft for him.

He didn’t even look at you. Not once. And you felt the rejection, the same one you’d felt once before.

“I guess this is how things are now,” he said, voice cold and empty.

It broke him, knowing those were his last words to you that night.You gave a nervous chuckle, tried to brush it off, then walked up to him, took off his jacket, and gently placed it over the chair.

“I hope not. I was hoping to spend the night with my fiancé.”

Bucky closed his eyes—he knew what was coming.— We shouldn't be watching this.Bucky tried to pull the group away, but it was too late.

“If you still have a fiancé,” he said.

" Oh shit. " Ava muttered, and Yelena nodded in agreement.

" You bastard. You broke up with her. "

Bucky rubbed his face with both hands, then looked back at the scene, seeing how pale he looked—like he’d seen a ghost.

“Ha… silly,” you laughed awkwardly, but Bucky didn’t smile.

“What’s wrong?”

“What is it?”

Bucky saw what he hadn’t noticed before—how you stepped back, slowly, as if giving him space.

“Bucky?”

“Look, I don’t think we should do this anymore.”

“Do what?”

“This… fake little domestic game.”

“What the hell does that mean? Is that what this is to you?”

Your voice was hurt, offended—but now, from a different point of view, he saw you breaking.Your eyes welled up with tears, and you wiped them away before he turned around.

“What are we doing then?”

You opened your mouth but closed it again, shaking your head in disbelief.

“Are you serious?”

“We’re not getting married, Y/n. We’re not having kids. We’re not living until we grow old, because guess what? We don’t get old. So if this isn’t a game, I don’t know what is.”

His words hit you, and a sob escaped your lips.Watching the scene, Bucky felt his own lip tremble, his hands ball into fists, his mind screaming at himself.He ruined it.He shattered you—the most important person in his life—into pieces.

" Let’s get the hell out of here too. " Bucky smashed the mirror on the table and saw you through it. He stepped through the other side of the portal, leaving the scene behind—leaving you in a storm of tears and brokenness. When the group found you with Bob, all Bucky could do was stare at you, full of regret.He needed you like air—and yet, he had treated himself like a toxin, pushing you away from your pure oxygen.When Valentina announced you as the new Avengers, all you wanted was to crawl under your blankets and cry yourself to sleep.The memories burned.The wounds hadn’t healed.They were raw.

Alive.Haunting.Shifting uncomfortably in bed, you let out a sigh, rubbed your face, and collapsed between the sheets.You wanted to disappear.

To punish yourself for helping with something that wasn’t even your job.You drifted off for a moment, only to jolt awake from a nightmare.Without thinking, you grabbed your phone—your fingers dialing before your brain could stop them.

" Doll? "

" Shit, I… I called without thinking. I’m sorry. "

" What are you doing up? "

" Just… tired. "

" Then you should be asleep."

" I can’t. But I’m okay. Sorry. Bye. "

You hung up on him.Bucky tried to call again, but you didn’t pick up

.So he came to you.

Ten minutes later, the doorbell rang.

Your heart almost stopped.

You walked slowly to the door, breathing uneven, eyes still burning. And there he was—Bucky, in a hoodie, hair tousled from the wind, eyes locked on you.

" You hung up on me. "He wasn’t angry—just… broken.

" I didn’t want to bother you. "

" I care about you. Way more than I ever said. " His eyes were red. Bucky had been crying. " I fucked everything up. I fucked you up. I ruined what we had because I was scared. I messed it all up—how I left you, how I left myself, because I can’t sleep without you."

" Buck…"

" I care about you like hell, and it kills me knowing I’m the reason you’re hurting. "

" No. You’re not. You’re not, Buck. " Now you were both crying on your doorstep.

" It’s ridiculous… I thought I was the problem. That maybe I wasn’t enough for you. That you deserved someone with more experience. But then I realized—I just want you. In my bed. Every night. And you weren’t there. "

You broke down, and Bucky pulled you to his chest, wrapping you in the kind of hug you desperately needed.

" Today… I needed you more than anything. And you weren’t here and... its just so bad not having you here "

" I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. I love you. More than my own life, doll. I’m sorry. "

You didn’t know if this was your happy ending.But you knew, somehow—you were going to be okay.

..............................................................................................

Oh no. No. No. Not today. Not now.

Fuck, You hate mother nature.

The sheets of your bed are stained a red hue. Little spots and specks paint the white fabric and your thighs are sticky with blood.

Your fucking period. If you had enough energy you could just slam a fist into the wall, broken bones be damned.

You whimpered and whined all the way to the shower, stomach aching, legs weak. You made sure to tear off the sheets and add them to the heaping pile of laundry in your room.

As soon as you stripped yourself of your clothes and felt the steaming water hit your skin, all was forgiven. The sound of water hitting the cheap chipped tile was so relaxing you would give everything you had to be in this state forever.

Unfortunately, a girl has a water bill.

ღ

You changed your clothes, put on low-cut shorts, and bought a shit ton of pads. It was only the first day and your flow was already heavy.

The cramps were bearable, but you could tell they were going to get a whole lot worse. Which led to your current state, in bed, lights turned off, head against a cold pillow, and blinds drawn.

An unbreakable fortress of cold pillows and snakes you managed to hoard in anticipation for this day's arrival.

You couldn’t turn on the tv, the light was harsh and irritating. So you just sat in darkness, eating Resses and groaning in pain.

Your only thought was “when would he arrive"?

ღ

“Кролик” (Bunny) a heavy voice woke you from your sleep. A familiar musk of gunpowder and him filled your head.

“You're bleeding.” He says from the shadows. You find your fingers gripping your blankets in both anticipation and fear. Your breath hitches.

He smells it, smells you.

“You need to be bred.”

Fuck.

The Winter Soldier, soldat, in his six-foot-tall frame, rounds the side of your bed. The harsh fabric of his suit, made to withstand all kinds of obstacles was now in front of your vision.

The soldat didn’t bother to take his combat boots off before sliding into bed with you. He kneeled on the mattress, denting it.

You waited in anticipation, legs slightly parted, breath coming in slow gasps as heat filled your entire body.

“Remove your shorts. Or is it too painful?” In a way, he’s mocking you, a way of saying you will always need his help. If you weren’t drunk off him right now, you’d recoil. Sober you would not have heat pooling in her core right now.

“Hurts- Soldat. Please take them off.” You wiggled your hips to emphasize. The soldats mask covers his face, muffling the groan he made when sliding the fabric off your legs.

Your body jolted when cold metal fingers met your clothed core. You tried your best to hold in the moan you held in your throat.

“Shh…quiet, кролик” You know there’s blood on your panties, you know the soldat does too.

Except, he doesn't seem to give a shit. His fingers prod at your entrance before removing your panties entirely, along with the pad stuck to them.

The soldat looks at your cunt, the mask hiding any real facial expression. You shiver from the cold air hitting your exposed folds.

He takes two metal fingers and slides them through your folds, gathering both blood and slick. The soldat purrs as you whine. “Relax -Going to hurt, stay still.”

You do as you are told, unable to stop the soldat as he places a flesh hand against your stomach, while two metal digits slide into your cunt.

"Beautiful, sweetheart.” The Soldat hums, pushing down just a little on your tummy as the digits slowly slide in and out of you. The pain eases at whatever he’s doing to you, and pleasure becomes more prominent.

You can hear the sound of your slick as he fingers you, your back arching off the bed as he picks up the pace, adding more pressure to your stomach. “Good, кролик. Right there.”

“Doing so well for your soldat. -think you can cum for him? Hmm?”

Fuck. The edge is so fucking close and your itching to barrel over it. The soldier can feel your cunt squeezing his fingers and can see the look in your eyes as you're about to come.

His metal digits speed up, going at a pace that is sure to push you over the edge. He releases his flesh hand from your stomach to pinch your aching clit.

It’s over from there. “Soldat! Soldat- fuck ” you cry out, heart pumping and legs shaking as he works you through it, pumping his fingers in and out of you.

“So good for your soldat. Look so pretty when you come for him, so beautiful.” The soldat slides his fingers out of you, wiping your juices on his pant leg.

The soldier undoes his belt buckle, sliding off the weapon-studded pants and throwing them into the darkness of the bedroom. His cock is throbbing, angry, and red.

“Ready to be bred, Кролик? Take all you're given?” His boxers are next, his metal hand wraps around the waistband. The fabric is torn from his body in one snap.

Your legs shake and your hips squirm as he lines his cock up with your entrance, his body crowding over you, balancing himself with a hand on the headboard. “You're so wet. I bet I’d just…”

His cock nudges your fold, “-Slide right in.” The pain hits you immediately as the soldat bottoms out. You can hear him curse in Russian under the mask, as he rests his head on your shoulder.

Skin meets skin as he gives time for you to adjust to his size. You’ve taken him many times before, but it’s different on your cycle.

It’s like your womb opens up a little more for him.

“So good, sweetheart.” He moans, sliding out to just half of his length before snapping his hips to you. You can feel everything. Every throbbing vein on his cock, every breath he groans through his mask.

The Soldat always has a primal urge when you're bleeding, he needs to come inside you, needs to breed your cunt.

He wants to mark you as his.

“Soldat-" you moan, feeling his cock slide out another couple of inches, until he’s balls deep again, kissing your cervix with the tip of his cock.

The entire bed shakes with the force of the soldat fucking you, and he fucks you hard. He’s so needy, desperate to fill you up with his seed. His moans and groans do not go unheard as his flesh hand presses on your stomach.

“Watch me fuck you, Кролик. See me sliding in and out?” All you can do is nod your head, words do not come easily.

Winter Soldier presses that hand on your tummy, pushing down as he stills, balls pressed to your skin as his cock twitches inside of you. “Feel me in your guts."

A few more thrusts has you clamping down on his cock, and when the soldier feels it, he goes fucking feral.

“Milk your Soldat's cock while he fills up your pretty pussy.” The soldier does exactly as he promises, shooting rope after rope of cum inside you.

Later, he flips you on your back so your pressed to his muscled chest, cock stuffing you full, keeping his load inside you. The Soldat mutters something like, “helps with the pain.”

It was supposed to be two easy days of cat-sitting Alpine. Just like you always had every month. You cat-sit her and you earn two hundred at the end. It was all great doing this for him, especially for you. Sure it never quelled the tiny (huge) crush you had for the man but it was helpful cash for you. Plus, he confessed to you after six months of doing this that it did get lonely for him at times so, you were happy he considered you somewhat as a friend. And that he trusted you to some degree.

You knew his secret. He’s a vampire and that his monthly vacations were to quell his thirst. It wasn’t hard for you to figure all of this out and the way you found out never made sense to him, but you knew his soul. He knew yours.

It was just…you never expected to see him at his front door in the middle of the night, a whole day early from his bloody trip, staggering while he’s on his knees as blood was coated his body and clothes. The redness seeped into his floors. A tiny puddle of red slowly emerged as the darkness swallowed the color deeper. His face was flushed and beaten, his eyes barely opening.

“Oh my god.” You choked out.

You carefully placed Alpine down on the couch and rushed over to him, placing tender hands on his forehead, “What happened, Bucky?”

Bucky, with whatever strength he had left, tried to push you away from him but you stayed put, your clean hands now painted with his blood. He mumbled something incoherent as his head spinned and spinned. The air was getting dazier and thicker for him. The figure of you blurry.

“Bucky?”

He shut his eyes to wallow the pain. “You need,” He winced, trying to even his breathing as he held onto his stomach, “You need to go.”

You shook your head, inching yourself closer to him to inspect how badly the bruises on his face were before your eyes worriedly searched his body. You then used your hands to pat around and when you found the wound spot, you quickly tore off your sweatshirt. Luckily you wore a tank top underneath.

Bucky gazed upon you and started shaking his head, “Please, go. You don’t need to do this for me.”

“Are you kidding me?” You furrowed your brows as you gently moved his hands away from the wound and wrapped your sweatshirt to keep the blood from oozing out more, “Bucky, I’m your friend.”

“You’re my cat sitter.”

“You’re only saying that now cause I’m helping you.”

You disregarded how his blood was on your hands, on your favorite sweatshirt. At this point, it didn’t matter to you. This man single handedly saved your life with the money he gave you every month and to think you’ll just stand around without helping him was bullshit to you.

With quick succession, you wrapped a careful arm under his arms and hoisted him so he was able to lean on you somewhat despite his taller height. You watched him intently to see what he needed, what his face was like, what medical attention he needed.

You couldn’t let him bleed out like this even if you knew he was an immortal vampire.

Bucky stumbled a bit as you guys started to walk to the nearest bathroom. He would hiss as he moved, his face scrunched in such a way it made your heart break. His body was slumped on you mostly and you used whatever strength you had to carry this bigger man.

Pressing down on his wound, his mind still waving in and out, his eyes gazed upon your dizzy figure. “I’ll heal.” He mustered out but the way his grip tightened on you made his statement unbelievable.

“Self-healing or not, you need medical attention, Bucky.”

He frowned, mumbling, “No I don’t…”

“Whoever told you the lie that you don’t need it is a bullshitter. You’re not Batman. Just tell me what I need to do.”

You two managed to make it to the downstairs restroom. You quickly heated up a warm bath to wash him up and found some medical supplies from the sink’s cabinet. He stopped protesting against your help and let you shimmy him out of his clothes.

You pried your eyes away when you helped him take off his slacks, but you couldn’t help the disgusting urge to look at him exposed all the way. But you kept the boundaries in check, never looked below his lower half. He needed help whether he believed it or not.

The whiteness of the bathroom had splatters of the red on little spots. His clothes made the wall painted red, the doorknobs you opened were painted in the red. And when you ushered him in the hot water to wash off his blood, the water turned a lukewarm red quickly.

You cautiously cleaned the wound he had on his stomach, wiping the rest of his blood clean everywhere on his chiseled body. His erratic breaths soon turned quaint as he let you clean him. Your eyes stayed on his face to stop them from looking anywhere else on his body.

The only sounds in the restroom were the splashes of water and his occasional wince or hiss.

You were softly rubbing the bar of soap over his stomach where the wound. You absorbed every reaction from his face. His frown, his scrunched face, his brows furrowed. You took it all to see when the cleaning was too much. His eyes were shut the entire time, trying to keep the loopiness down.

“Doll…” He muttered.

You leaned in closer to hear him clearer, “Yeah?”

His hand slowly grasped your wrist and you gulped, your heart pittering. He opened his eyes, his head tilting so he could see you better. His eyes were low and dark as he moved your hand to his chest, metaciously watching your every breath, every move, every reaction.

“Thank you.”

You gave him a faint smile and ignored the way your stomach was flipping with this burning desire, “I would’ve done it in a heartbeat.”

“And you did.” Bucky jokes and the two of you sweetly chuckle but the moment falters when he hissed loudly, his head rolling back and his eyes back to being shut. “Fuck.”

“Here,” You pulled the drain from the tub fast, “Let’s put you in a robe so I can stitch your wound.”

You turned around to find one of his robes but his hand pulled you back roughly to the spot you sat at. Confused by his action, you looked at him to see him shake his head.

“I just want to rest now.”

Even though you were afraid the wound wouldn’t heal when you dragged him to his bedroom, he reassured you it was alright. (Though you still wrapped the wound with a bandage). You gave him a robe so he was able to sleep in some clothes rather than lay naked. Plus it was easier than dressing him knowing you were going to be face to face with his dick.

It eased your heart a little knowing that.

He fell asleep the minute he was covered in blankets and when his head hit the fluffy pillow of his. Little Alpine came strolling and took her place right next to him. She meowed while looking at you, as if telling you to come too in bed, but you told yourself no that’s delusional and you closed the door quietly so you could take a shower.

Yet you couldn’t sleep that night. Even after you took your shower and wore the silk black pajama Bucky gave you as a present. The second day was sleepless too. You took care of Alpine as usual but this time you waited by his door in case he needed something. By the third day where Bucky had rested like he was in a coma, you were growing restless with this urgent need bellowing in the bottom of your stomach. Combined that with your tired self, you were bitchy to yourself to say the least.

On the fourth night when you washed the pajama set (seeing how the clothes you were when he was bloody got bloodied, it was hard to wash off blood), you laid in the bedroom that Bucky claimed was yours while you were over cat-sitting. Sure you were extending your stay, but you were worried for him and if he wasn’t awake soon, you were sure he wouldn’t like to see his cat meowing and purring cause no one took care of her.

And for the first time in ages, you tried sleeping. You had your eyes shut tight and you snuggled with another pillow on the bed. There you pushed images of the beach, hiking, anything you would deem peaceful to help you sleep. But nothing worked because your random thoughts would shift to Bucky going down on you, biting you, grazing his fangs over your lips, him eating you out while you’re on your period—

What the fuck is wrong with you?

You moved your fingers to touch your lower lip and let out an annoyed huff when you realized you bit down hard, specks of blood started to drip. Frustrated, you went out of the bedroom and walked down the hallway to reach the grand staircase. You kept your hand on your mouth to stop the cut from flowing more blood.

You were six down from the stairs when you stopped, hearing footsteps from above.

“Doll?” His voice was raspy and low, maybe even a hint of sultry in it. “You’re still here?”

You whipped around to face him and the relief spread throughout. With your hand still covering your mouth, you nodded, “Of course I am,” You mumbled, “Someone had to take care of Alpine.”

He didn’t smile. But he smelled an intriguing aroma coming from you, the boxers he put on before leaving now tightening. He leveled his breathing as he started to make his slow descent towards you and you were pretty certain he was hunting you.

The way his eyes slanted and how dominating his presence was gave you this exciting feel in your core. Your thighs clenched when he stopped in front of you, one of his hands gently tugging your wrist to unwrap the gift you were beholding from him; your dripping blood.

“May I see it, love?”

You held back a whine as you nod, never looking away from his eyes. It seemed like his wounds and pain were healed. The bruise that was near his eye disappeared.

He moved your hands away from your bleeding lip. His eyes gazed upon your blood coated fingertip. He was trying hard to control himself. His jaw clenched as he reached his hand closer to your lips, peering down at you through his eyelashes.

“May I?”

“Yes.”

Your heart was beating fast as he glided his finger over your blood. Like he was a scientist, he sucked your blood off your finger and it was like tension rolled off of him. He towered over you and placed tender hands on your cheeks, gently pulling your face closer to his.

Both of your heads touched and you couldn’t deny how this situation made you feel.

“Do you know how long I wanted to taste you, doll?” His head tilt made you feel like he was taunting you, his words making your head turn into the thought of that, “Every damn month when you show up on my doorstep with that pretty little face of yours, your smell overwhelms me.”

You couldn’t help the whine that left your lips. Your body squirmed around, hips trying to reach him but he inched his lower half away.

“Did you know?” He asked, his warm breath clouding your senses as he turned you into mush.

“No.”

He breathed in deep. His thumb started to trace your cheek in delicacy as he stared at your face for a while. Relishing the small reactions you gave to his touch, his words.

“Would you give me the permission to taste you even more? Touch you where you want it?”

You gazed up at him with fast nods. Your body was heated with this lustful energy and you just wanted him now selfishly. Like all of the small dreams you had of him came true.

“Need you to use your words, sweetheart.”

“Yes…please.”

His tongue glided across his lips at your words, your eyes concentrated on how they glistened after. The light of the moon fell perfectly on you both. His eyes bounced to your lips and to your eyes and when you nodded again to push him to the edge, his lips engulfed yours.

It was gentle. His hands moved to your hair, to your neck, to your face, anywhere that he could touch you. He started to guide you down so you two could sit on the wide staircase, comfortable enough than standing. He leaned back on the railing, the sensual kiss pursuing. He licked your lips and rolled you on top so you were straddling him.

He produced deep grunts when he tasted your blood and when your hip started to grind against his in a desperate manner. He felt your wetness soak his boxers, his dick erecting harder at that feeling.

You moaned when his tongue experimentally prodded against yours. He assumed from your reaction it was alright and his tongue met yours again, your hands combing through his hair for some form of grounding. His nails traced your back in a repeated pattern as he bucked his hips into yours and you moaned in surprise, breaking the kiss.

The both of you catched your breaths, your chest heaving. His spit combined with yours covered your mouth, the blood he went in search for gone. You gulped and was ready to kiss him back, but his face had gone to the crook of your neck. His fangs grazing your skin, earning him shuddery breaths and goosebumps from you.

He nibbled in different areas to find your sweet spot. He listened to your every reaction and when he finally found the spot, he began sucking, and placed his hands on your hips to help you grind against his crotch. He didn’t give you a hickey, no, with a test of his fangs, he bit into your neck, holding you still as you gasped out.

“Shit!” You muttered, your forehead laying on his.

He drank your blood slowly as he didn’t want you to pass out on him but fuck, he wanted you to get used to this. He couldn’t get enough of your blood. He groaned when it reached his tongue. It was hard for him to stop, especially when you moaned and whined next to his ear, urging him to keep doing it.

But he let go. His desperation was clear when he licked over the spot he bit into to swallow more of your blood. He looked over at his bite mark proudly, loving the way you were marked. With your blood covering his fangs and mouth, he looked up at you.

“How did it feel, love?”

You moaned, arms wrapped around his neck as you continued to grind on him.

“It felt good.”

“Yeah?” He slowed your grinding, wanting you to look at him for a moment. “I enjoyed it. Your taste fucking gives me life.” He planted a kiss on your cheek, pecking his lips to your jawline, chin, neck, before grazing your lips, coating yourself in your blood, “What else did you want me to do, huh?

You hummed as you tried to push down on his clothed dick again, but his hands held a firm grip on your hips. “Fuck, Bucky, please.” You whined desperately into his ear, earning yourself a deep chuckle. “This isn’t funny at all.”

“I need you to use your words, doll. I’m not gonna do anything else unless you give me permission.”

“Just shut up and kiss me.”

“My pleasure.”

Your lips crashed onto his. This time it was passionate. He let his fangs graze your lips and every time you shuddered or moaned, he would hump against you. You tugged on his tongue and he hummed, his hands gripping on your hips tightly now.

He did the same to you, but he eased you down on your back, his knee spreading your legs open. He soon planted kisses all over your face and neck, his hands clasping your shirt so he could unbutton it. You watched him, seeing his hands expertly doing so.

You looked at the beautiful sight in front of you. With his beefy body on top, no shirt on, and the clear erection he was keeping in his boxers, you only got more wet. You wanted to clamp your thighs together but he knee kept spreading you apart.

Bucky took your shirt off and stared lustfully at your uncovered breasts. He started to massage them, giving you tiny peeks to see if this was pleasuring for you. When he got his answer, he licked the nipple and relished in the way you rolled your head back, your back arching at the sudden warm temperature.

He gave your boobs the attention they deserved. With one hand massaging the other or squeezing your nipple sometimes while he sucked and licked the other and then he would switch. You could only moan at the worship he was giving your body, your hands beginning to tug on his hair.

He sucked on one of your breasts before releasing it with a pop, circling his spit over your nipples. He glanced at your disheveled self, “Does this feel good, love?”

You groaned at the raspiness in his voice. Nodding, your face scrunched in pleasure, “It feels good, Bucky.”

“Finally responding to my questions, hm?” He nibbled on your ear, his hands dragging their way towards your shorts, teasingly tugging on the hems of it, “You know how to be good, huh?”

“Mmhmm,” You whined, “I know how to be good.”

Bucky grinned. With a slow taunt, he got rid of your shorts and placed them somewhere near. He dragged his fingers towards the outline of your panties, rubbing his thumb in a circle on the inside of your thighs. He hummed at your desperate pleas, leaning himself closer as he started to kiss your jawline.

His fingers, so close yet so far, grazed your pussy through your underwear and you whined, bucking your hips up to find his fingers. He gently tapped your cheek so you could open your eyes, and cupping your cheek so softly, he whispered, “I want you to stare at me while I finger you.”

Fuck.

You nodded, staring into his eyes that intently stared into yours. You couldn’t even watch his fingers take your panties off or watch his fingers barely miss your throbbing cunt. You wanted to look away from his eyes so you could grab his wrist and do the work instead, but his eyes held you in your place.

One finger found your clit and you quietly gasped, resisting yourself to flutter your eyes shut. His finger started to rub your clit. Your thighs clamped on his hand but he used his knee to widen your legs again.

The more he waited and teased, the more wet you got.

“Bucky, please—“

“Shhh,” His finger dipped to your entrance and you whined, trying to grind on his finger but he simply moved it away, “It’s okay, doll. You’ll get what you want soon enough. Just keep those precious eyes on me.”

His finger went back to your wet pussy and he gathered your slick, humming when he realized how wet you were for him. Tilting his head, he found your entrance and with one finger, he pushed his finger little by little, watching how your eyebrows bunched up together and much you wanted to look away but you kept your eyes on him, letting him soak in your pleasured expression.

He didn’t move his finger for quite some time, letting you grind helplessly on his finger to find the relief yourself. The sight alone had him leaking in boxers.

Then he started to pump his finger in and out, slowly, testing you. You moaned, your hands trying to find something to grasp on. The obscene and slick noises coming from your pussy and your moans were the only sounds around you guys.

Your hand grabbed onto the railing behind you. The intense staring was hot and it only made you want more of his fingers inside of you, pumping fast. You wanted him to find your release. Let him stare at you while you orgasm.

You moaned loudly when he started to pick up his pace, his other hand finding your breasts. He spit on them, using his spit like a lube as he massaged your boobs like he did before.

“Bucky.” You drawled out his name, mumbling cuss words under your breath, “Don’t stop, please.”

But like a tease he was, he pulled out his finger, smirking when you groaned. You pulled yourself up on your elbows and glared at him, “You’re such an ass, you know that?”

He shrugged.

“Bucky—“ You gasped when he inserted two fingers inside you. You huffed, resting on your back now at the new feeling, ignoring even staring at him. “Fuck, fuck, fuck.”

“Am I an ass now?”

Frustrated, you shot out your hand to his boxers and touched his throbbing dick. He grunted, eyes closing shut. His stomach tightened when you began stroking him through his boxers.

“Shit doll.” He groaned out, quickening his pace with his fingers. “This makes me want to fuck you so bad.”

“Fuck me, please.”

He pulled out his fingers again, much to your dismay, but he pulled down his boxers with your help. You stared at his dick and the way his precum glistened and leaked out. You supposed there was always another month to suck the hell out of it.

He settled you into a position as he pumped his dick. His eyes relished in the sight of your wet pussy, seeing the way it clenched around nothing. He bit his lip and positioned his dick to your entrance, looking at you, “Are you comfortable?”

“Yeah.”

Bucky used your slickness to lube the tip of his head. Guiding it to your hole, he slowly inched his dick inside, losing all of his self control when he heard you strung out moans and gasps.

He pushed himself all the way inside, his head over yours and his arms besides your head. Veins popped out from his neck as he shuddered at the feel of your pussy stretching and taking his dick.

Clenching his eyes, he bottomed out and the both of you groaned at the feeling. Your hands wrapped around his arms, nails digging into his skin. He grunted, snaking his mouth to your neck where he thrusted his hips.

You moaned and he couldn’t help himself anymore. After years of not having sex, he couldn’t help but to chase your high.

“I’m so sorry, doll.”

“Why are you—fuck!” You shouted.

Bucky slapped his hips against yours repeatedly, grunting each time he did. His arms gave up on him as he wrapped them around your back while you wrapped yours around him. He listened to your breathy moans in his ear, the primal rage in him wanting to go harder, but he restrained himself from doing so.

He felt the way your boobs moved up and down on his chest and when you started grinding your hips against him at the same pace he was going at. It was all so warm, he knew he couldn’t hold in his release for much longer if you kept doing this.

“Where do you want me to cum, doll?” He groaned out, caging you closer to him. “I, fuck, you feel so good. The way you’re clamping down on me, shit, feels like heaven.”

“Cum in me…please, sir.”

“Fuck.”

He didn’t speed up his movements but the nickname you used for him lit up a fire in him. He kissed your neck, licking over the mark he made, now littering you with purple hickeys. “You have no idea how good you feel. How badly do you want to cum?”

“Very badly?”

“Yeah?” He thrusted deeply, you moaning loudly, “You want to cum? You can cum, love. Want you to cum while I’m fucking you like this. I know this pussy wants to cum so bad. Come on, doll, cum. You got this.”

You moaned. The coil in your stomach churned when he talked to you. So cooing. With one last thrust, your thighs clenched as you groaned, cumming while he fucked you through it.

“I got you, fuck, yeah, I got you.”

He didn’t hold out for long after you did as he grunted and came inside of you. You hummed when he did, your pussy becoming sensitive the more he slowly thrust into you to finish both of your releases.

Panting, his head fell onto your shoulder, giving you tiny kisses where his mouth was. He pulled out his dick and watched his cum leak out. Fuck, there was no way he could consider you just his cat-sitter anymore.

He used his boxer to wipe down there for you, apologizing when you moved your hips away. You yawned, the tiredness catching up to you. Bucky grinned and lifted you up, letting you wrap around him as he carried you to his bedroom.

“If you get pregnant, I swear I won’t leave you.”

You laughed against his neck, “I have the arm implant. Trust me, I’m not getting pregnant, Bucky.”

“So my name is Bucky now, huh? No more sir?”

“Oh, shut it.”

He cleaned you up in his own bathroom. You fell asleep in the tub before he even finished. Cleaning himself off, he puts you in clean nightwear clothes and carries you to his bed. He covered you in blankets and kissed your forehead before moving to the other side, cuddling you.

You were lounging on the bed, stretched out on your back. The tv was playing some drama, but you weren’t really watching it. Instead, your thoughts wandered as you absentmindedly played with the switchblade in your hand, flipping it open and closed repeatedly. The familiar sound of jaunty jazz music briefly caught your attention, letting you know the time as a late-night talk show started. Your eyelids were drooping, more from boredom than from sleepiness. You could still hear Sam and Bucky talking, or more accurately, arguing, downstairs as you drifted into a light sleep. 

Sometime later, you awoke with a start as you felt the weight of Bucky’s body land on the bed next to you. 

“Hey sleeping beauty, it’s time to go.” 

“Finally,” you said through a yawn while you sat up to stretch. “What time is it?” 

“A little after 2 am. Sam wouldn’t go to bed.” 

You shrugged and turned to meet his eyes. He was still laying on the bed, propped up in his elbow. The look in his eyes mirrored the excitement you felt at the promise of a dangerous evening. You placed your hands on either side of his face and pressed your forehead to his. 

“I do my best work in the middle of the night anyways.” 

Bucky grinned, “you’re right about that.” 

The rare, genuine grin made your heart flutter on a good day, and on days like today, it made you practically melt through the floor. 

You captured his lips in a sweet kiss, tasting the expensive scotch that lingered there. Bucky only drank scotch when he was stressed, and the taste reminded you of how sexy he looked when he was mad; and how he liked to destress after the scotch glass was empty.  

Your kiss became more forceful, and he kissed you back as he sat up and ran his hand over your thigh before he abruptly stood up and left you on the bed. 

He walked to the closet and grabbed his boots. You watched him lustfully, the swagger of his simple movements, unnecessarily sexy. He rattled on about the plan as he sat on the settee in front of the bed, his back to you, to put his shoes on. 

You crawled to the edge of the bed to sit behind him, innocently running your fingers through his hair. The plan sounded reckless, dangerous, and fun. The adrenaline that was already starting to make its way through your veins, mixed with the heady scent of Bucky’s cologne, was your own unique aphrodisiac. 

The leathery scent of his cologne wafting off of his neck was practically begging you to come closer, and who could blame you when you began lightly kissing his neck. Your hands moved over his shoulders and down his chest. You kept your movements slow, taking time to enjoy the power that his thick muscles exuded under your small hands. You were far from weak, but you still balked at the way his chiseled body looked compared to yours. The fact that he could so easily overpower you; easily take whatever he wanted from you; easily force you to comply with his every demand with his physical strength had made you lust over him instantly. Who could have guessed that all he would need to keep you under his thumb was the hold he had had over your heart. 

“Are you listening?” Bucky turned his head to look at you from the corner of his eye. 

“Of course.” You kissed his cheek, and he continued going over the plan. 

You continued trying to distract him, targeting the most sensitive spots of his neck. Your lips left light kisses followed by the quick teasing twirl of the tip of your tongue. 

He leaned into you and closed his eyes but kept talking. Then, as your lips moved closer to his ear, he started to lose his train of thought. He could feel your lips part in a knowing smile before you ran the tip of your tongue over the shell of his ear and gently sucked his earlobe into your mouth. 

“Fuck, doll,” he hissed. 

Proud of yourself, you giggled tauntingly and started to repeat the movement. Finally, he spun around to face you, roughly pulling you by the hips off of the bed and into his lap. 

His speed and strength never ceased to turn you on, and you gasped through your giggling. 

“You’re very distracting, you know. I ought to make you stay here.” 

“You’re the distracting one,” you mumbled in weak defense. 

“Do you want to go or not?” He asked as his calloused fingers danced over the exposed skin of your midriff, tempting you to say no. 

“Yes, I want to go,” you said with a sigh. 

“Then be a good girl and go wake up Zemo and meet downstairs in the study.” He punctuated the order with a firm smack on your ass, knowing it would drive you crazy. 

Using every ounce of self-control you had, you nodded your head and removed yourself from his lap. 

“And remember to play nicely,” he added, making you smirk as you left the room. 

**

Same as you, Zemo had fallen asleep waiting for the right time to leave the house. You crept into his room silently and sat on the edge of his bed. In the moonlight, you could just barely make out his face; he looked oddly innocent when he slept. For a moment, you wondered if the usual arrogant, cocky persona was all just for show. Then you reminded yourself that it didn’t matter; he was just a means to an end.  

You ran your hand slowly but firmly up the inside of his leg as you whispered his name. He didn’t stir, so you climbed onto the bed, positioning yourself between his legs. You placed both hands on his thighs, caressing him and calling his name a little louder. 

“If I pretend that I’m still asleep, will you keep doing that?” He asked as your hands moved over his inner thighs, so close to where he most desired your touch. 

“Maybe,” you teased. 

“Then consider me asleep,” he snapped, his eyes closed playfully. 

You continued moving your hands higher up his inner thigh until you reached his hips, purposefully avoiding the prominent bulge in his pants. 

He squirmed underneath you as you repeated the movement, making you lick your lips in desire.

You liked letting Bucky be dominant, but sometimes you craved the control Zemo was handing over to you. Knowing you had the power to make him - a  Baron, a man so cunning and lethal that Sam had called him ‘one of the most dangerous men in the world’ - knowing that you could make that man fall to pieces was almost as euphoric as relinquishing control of your body and soul over to Bucky. Still, a small part of you wished that he would flip you over on your back and take what he wanted from you. 

“Time to wake up before Bucky comes looking for us.” Without warning, you drug your fingers over the strained bulge in his pants with a feather-light touch. 

He moaned your name, and the sound was so sweet that you had to jump off of the bed to keep yourself from straddling him right then. 

He swore under his breath and met you at the door. “You’re trouble. I can see why James has to keep you under control.” Zemo’s finger trailed lightly down your arm as his words sent an excited chill down your spine. “How does he make you submit to him?” 

You turned to him with a smug smile, your eyes flashing with a spark of tenacity. “He doesn’t make me do anything. I do it because I love him.” 

**

As you led Zemo into the study where Bucky awaited you, your eyes grew wide. Bucky had laid out a plethora of weapons on the mahogany table in the middle of the room.

“Are we going to take out the entire town?” You asked as you joined his side. 

“Only if necessary,” Bucky replied with a kiss on your forehead. 

You grinned slightly at the tender gesture before turning back to the weapons laid out in front of you.

Your eyes scanned the display, looking for something in particular, your lips pulling down in a frown when you didn’t find it.  

“Don’t worry, I haven’t forgotten,” Bucky grinned knowingly. He grabbed a box off of the desk behind him and opened it.

Your lips curled into a small smile as you ran your hands over the cool metal of your daggers and guns. Finally, you picked up your favorite, a 7-inch Fairbairn-Sykes dagger, and lightly ran your fingertip over the smooth blade. 

Bucky watched you with rapt attention as if you were performing just for him. His eyes followed your every movement curiously as you put the dagger back, and your hand hovered over the other weapons. When you settled on a 9mm pistol, he nodded in approval. 

Zemo observed silently from his position on the other side of the table; you were proving to be more interesting to him than he had anticipated. 

He watched as Bucky put the box back on the desk and turned back around with ammo and a gun holster in his hands. When Bucky grabbed your wrist and slowly inserted the magazine into the pistol without breaking eye contact with you, Zemo almost looked away, feeling like he was intruding. 

The contrasting feeling of the icy vibranium hand that gripped your wrist and the warm touch of Bucky’s flesh hand on yours; the way his fingers moved delicately over the magazine before he pushed it into place; the way his eyes, filled with excitement and adoration, said everything you ever needed to know about how he felt about you - made you dizzy with want. 

Your breath hitched as the click of the magazine punctuated the sexual tension radiating between you. Bucky smirked, and you felt slightly embarrassed by how everything this man did seemed to light a fire within you. 

The feeling of embarrassment vacated your body, replaced with more desire, when he lightly grabbed your hips and turned you around, your back flush against his chest. Your gaze caught Zemo’s across the table.

Neither you nor Zemo broke eye contact as Bucky knelt down, his hands never leaving your body, to fasten the gun holster to your thigh. Zemo tried to keep his face emotionless, but his eyes betrayed the absolute hunger he felt for you. 

You smirked when Zemo broke first, his eyes leaving yours to rake down your body. “See anything you like?” you quipped with a sly grin.

Zemo’s eyes snapped back up to yours, and you nodded in the direction of the weapons table. 

Bucky looked up and saw the smug look on your face; he followed your gaze and saw the need on Zemo’s. 

He was surprised at the rush of adrenaline and the twitch of his cock in response. You indeed had a hold over him. He always gave you what you wanted. 

He stopped fastening the holster and let it drop to the floor. He ran his hands tantalizingly up your thighs. His voice was dark with lust when he spoke, “Zemo, please, what's mine is yours.” 

You looked down at Bucky, the question in your eyes clear to him. He nodded slightly, sending sparks of exhilaration and anticipation flying through you. Bucky somehow always knew what you wanted. No, what you needed. 

Zemo stared at the both of you from across the table, not sure if the invitation was just his own wishful thinking. 

Bucky’s fingers lightly trailed over your clothed sex making you shiver. Then, he unbuttoned and unzipped your pants, beckoning Zemo forward. 

Zemo’s stare suddenly felt dangerous as he looked down on you, his eyes predatory and intent. A brief thought about how sexy he must look when he’s mad flitted through your mind.The rush of fear sent goosebumps across your skin. If you weren’t wet before, you certainly were now. 

“Don’t you want to touch her?” Bucky further encouraged as he stood up and placed his hands on your shoulders. 

Zemo reached out to touch you. But, before making contact with the white lace of your underwear, he looked in your eyes, seeking your permission. 

“Go ahead, she’s going to be a good girl now, right doll?” Bucky’s voice purred in your ear, and you bit your lip as you nodded your head in agreement. 

Bucky’s fingers trailed deliciously over your neck and your collar bone, teasing at rough touches that were to come. 

“Use your words now, doll.” 

“Yes, I’ll be good. Please.” Your voice started to get whiny as your desire for one of them to just get on with it already increased. 

You didn’t know how Zemo had so much self-control after what you had put him through. Still, his lithe fingers moved achingly slow over the lace on your hip bone as he spoke to you, his voice condescending and barely above a whisper. “White lace? You are the farthest thing from innocent.” 

You could feel Bucky’s lips curl into a smirk as he kissed your neck. You held your breath as Zemo’s fingers finally moved lower. 

“So wet already,” Zemo murmured as his tongue swiped tauntingly over his bottom lip. 

He moved his fingers teasingly, rubbing your clit at the same time that Bucky sucked your earlobe into his mouth, his teeth grazing against your skin.

“Fuck,” you breathed out as you pushed your hips forward, begging Zemo to touch you more. 

“She is a needy little thing,” Bucky said to Zemo as they both ignored your movements. 

“Please, Bucky--” he cut you off by grabbing your face and turning it up towards him, smashing his lips to yours. He was enjoying this.

He broke the kiss and sat back against the desk behind him. “Begging to come already? You haven’t even taken care of our guest yet.” 

With one swift movement, he pulled your jeans down and helped you step out of them. “Before we get to that, I think she deserves some punishment for her earlier actions. Don’t you agree?” Zemo spoke to Bucky as if you weren’t even in the room.

Bucky agreed and pulled you back into his lap. You let out a small whimper as his hardness pressed into your ass. He shushed you sweetly as he ran his hands over your thighs. Then, he grabbed your right leg roughly and hoisted it across his own, leaving you open and exposed to Zemo. 

Your heart was thumping madly; they might just kill you tonight, but what a way to go. 

Zemo’s fingers ghosted over your skin, frustrating the hell out of you. You tried to move into his touch to get more friction, but he left you unsatisfied every time. 

“I thought you didn’t want me to touch you?” The cockiness of his feigned innocence made the question sound like a taunt. 

“I do. I do want you to touch me.” 

“Oh, you do? I don’t know if you deserve it after how you treated me today.” 

You licked your lips at the memory, “did you touch yourself and think about my fingers buried in my pussy?” The curiosity had been killing you, and you had to ask, despite knowing the reaction it would get you. 

Bucky forcefully grabbed your face and tilted your head up to look at him. “You’re not in charge anymore, baby girl, behave.” 

He released you, and Zemo replaced his hand with his own, pulling you closer to him so he could whisper in your ear.

“Of course I did. Do you know how hard it was to keep from fucking you senseless into that couch?” 

You moaned in response, his need making you throb. 

“Oh, you’d like that, would you?” 

“Zemo, please, please touch me,” you whimpered. 

Finally, finally, Zemo sunk his fingers below the waistband of your underwear and touched your forbidden sex. He mimicked the movements he had seen you make on yourself earlier in the day, making your head spin. 

Bucky held down your hips with one arm, keeping you from trying to grind harder against Zemo’s fingers. His free hand absentmindedly teased your nipples through the fabric of your shirt while he whispered in your ear, praising you for being so good. 

In no time, the stimulation was overwhelming, and you were teetering on the edge of release. Your head was thrown back against Bucky’s shoulder, and your eyes closed tight as you rode out the pleasure. 

“Eyes open doll, Zemo wants to see how good he’s making you feel.” 

You obeyed, and the sight of Zemo’s hungry eyes watching you as his free hand palmed at the straining bulge in his pants pushed you right to the edge. 

His name left your mouth in a filthy moan, and Zemo almost couldn’t make himself stop, but Bucky’s tap on his arm told him to remove his fingers, and he complied. 

You groaned in frustration as your orgasm slowly crept farther and farther away from you. 

Seeing the opportunity to get what you wanted, you gazed into Zemo’s yearning eyes, “Zemo, please,” you begged,your voice laced with sex, “don’t you want to hear me moan your name as you make me come?” 

Zemo let out a low moan as he rubbed himself a little faster. 

Bucky tsked disapprovingly in your ear, “why do you insist on making me punish you? You know I only want to make you feel good, but you just can’t behave.” 

“I’m sorry, I just need--” 

“I know what you need,” he said gruffly, “now sit here and take your punishment like a good girl.” 

Bucky’s words kept you close to the edge, and as Zemo tugged your underwear off and settled his face between your legs, you were already close to toppling over again. 

Your right leg resumed its position over Bucky’s thick thigh, and Zemo lifted your left leg over his shoulder. 

Bucky easily supported your weight with the arm wrapped around your waist, and you completely gave yourself over to Zemo’s ministrations. His tongue felt like heaven on your desperately wet folds. He alternated between long, languid strokes of his tongue and little short rapid ones over your sensitive clit. The only two words in your vocabulary at that moment were fuck and please. 

The short rapid strokes gave you hope that he would get lost in his own pleasure and accidentally send you plunging over the edge, but he somehow always knew when to stop. 

Bucky held your wrists, keeping you irritatingly still. All you could do was writhe and moan under Zemo’s tongue. 

His tongue began moving rapidly again. This time his fingers joined, and you thought for sure he would grant your release. But you couldn’t even get the words out of your mouth before Bucky shortly said, “No.” 

Zemo didn’t stop, though, and you were past the point of no return. So you let your body relax, resigning yourself to whatever punishment would come from cumming without permission. 

He took you higher and higher; the moan of pleasure started to build deep in your belly and travel quickly up through your chest. Then, just as it was about to be released, Zemo retreated, withdrawing all stimulation and your moan turned into a strangled cry of despair. 

The ruined orgasm moved through your body weakly, giving you not one ounce of pleasure. 

“Oh, look at you; so beautiful,” Zemo hummed, his face still between your legs. 

His warm breath made you twitch in Bucky’s arms. Anger at Zemo started to grow inside you; you hadn’t been this cruel to him.The condescending tone of his voice and the smug look on his face made you want to hit him. However, you remained still, wanting to please Bucky. 

You turned your face to him, your breathing still erratic, “Bucky, please, I’ve been good, haven’t I?” 

Bucky pretended to think about the answer for a moment, keeping you in suspense. Finally, he looked down at you sitting on his lap, dripping and desperate, and Zemo on his knees, palming at his erection while staring at your pussy. You felt his cock twitch underneath you, and you ground your ass against it. 

His hands gripped you tighter, “you haven’t earned that yet, doll, now stop moving.” When you obeyed, he released your hands; you balled them into fists to keep from touching him. “That’s better. To answer your question...you’ve been better.” Your heart sank. “Don’t you think it would be rude to come before our guest?” 

You didn’t care, but you verbally agreed with him anyway.

As your heart rate slowed a bit from the ruined orgasm, you watched Zemo back up and lean against the table, the artillery of weapons splayed out behind him. You remembered why you were in this situation in the first place. The dim lighting cascaded around his burly frame. The snug purple sweater he donned revealed the lithe muscles underneath when he crossed his arms over his chest. He cocked his head to the side, his chocolate eyes drawing you in like a lamb to slaughter. The perfectly styled coif of chestnut hair; the haughty look that was permanently etched on his face; the air of aristocratic superiority that hung around his every action; he looked absolutely sinful. You felt a twinge of guilt at how turned on you were by him and looked up at Bucky to make sure you were still on the same page. You knew each other’s safe words, but this was uncharted territory for the both of you, and you had to be sure. 

He kissed your nose and pushed you off of his lap, sending you towards the waiting Baron. 

Because now, here he was, grinding up against his teammate, Y/N, in the heat of the club, resting his hands on her jean-clad hips as she bent over and rutted her bum against his pelvis in a filthy demeanour that had his inebriated body aching for more as small whines and slurs echoed from her throat.

"Fuck, Y/N," he grunted, carding his fingers through her sweaty hair. "We should get out of here."

He couldn't believe the words leaving his mouth because Y/N was one of his closest friends on the team, as well as his mission partner, and the mere thought of doing anything more than offering platonic cheek-kisses was absurd, but the voice of reason in the back of his head was silenced when she ran her fingers through her sweaty hair and laughed. She looked gorgeous.

She nodded at his previous words and turned around to wrap her arms around his neck.

"We should leave, but we need to leave without everyone seeing us," she said, leaving sloppy open-mouthed kisses along his neck that had his heart rate spiking, "If we get caught we'll never hear the end of it."

Bucky chuckled and dug his hands into the back pocket of her jeans, squeezing slightly and smirking when she jumped.

"Makes sense," he agreed, "I don't know how much more of Sam's teasing I can take."

Y/N hummed in response and a chuckle vibrated through his neck. "Me too."

She pulled away and smiled, ruffling his hair and taking in just how sexy he looked underneath the strobe lights and the pounding music: his eyes were wide and bleary, his hair was plastered on his forehead with sweat and a small smirk tilted up the corners of his lips, making her core tighten.

Y/N sighed at the sight but Bucky didn't seem to hear because he continued by pulling her into his chest and pressing a sloppy kiss to the top of her head. She giggled and began to trace small shapes on his arm, swaying back and forth slightly as a bleary smile quirked up the corners of his plush lips.

"Speaking of other teammates," he said casually, twirling a strand of her hair around his fingertips, "Do you think this is, like, wrong?"

"Not really," she shrugged, leaning into him and shifting with the music. "We're friends, so it doesn't really interfere with work if we fuck." She paused for a moment and frowned, "At least I don't think it does."

Bucky smirked, "Yeah."

The voice in his head was screaming now.

"But anyways," she continued, turning around and tilting her head with a small smile on her face, "I came here to have fun, not have a drunken heart-to-heart. I only have those with my cat and when I'm tipsy," she poked his cheek and stuck her tongue out, "And I'm way past tipsy, Barnes."

Bucky chuckled and pulled her into his chest.

"Me too, Y/L/N. Let's get out of here," he repeated, nuzzling his head into the crook of her neck and pressing a kiss there. He smirked when she shuddered and sighed.

She went quiet for a moment and stumbled over her feet, but only before a smirk tilted up her lips. She tapped her fingers coyly on his bicep and had Bucky shivering with anticipation before saying evenly, "I've always wanted to give a bathroom fuck a try."

Bucky's drunken heart soared and he laughed, pressing a sloppy kiss to her temple as she giggled and batted his hand away.

"Great minds think alike, babe," he smiled, "That's the smartest thing I've ever heard you say."

Y/N snorted and pinched his arm. "That's rich coming from you. You're stupid."

Bucky rolled his eyes and wrapped his hand around her wrist, wordlessly urging her to come with him as he guided her through the sea of drunken Avengers and invitees.

She went silent and gave into his touch, giggling a bit and stumbling over her feet but only until her eyes landed on the singular bathroom.

It was simple, a dark mahogany with gold accents, but her vision tunneled and it seemed to be calling out to her. Everything amplified a tenfold.

Excitement and euphoria bubbled in her stomach and Bucky's warm touch on her hand became more intense. Her pupils dilated and she salivated with anticipation, not noticing Bucky's subtle glance back and forth to make sure nobody was watching them before pushing her into the bathroom and attaching his lips to hers.

She squeaked and furrowed her eyebrows, but melted into it as soon as Bucky kicked the door shut and locked it. Luckily it was only one room without any other stalls, and the sheer absurdity of it all just might've been the thing to make her initiate a dirtier kiss.

Bucky tasted like vodka and strawberries and winter.

She had seen the many ways his lips moved over the past few months and didn't know what underlying feelings she had until now. She knew they were there, but they seemed to be asleep. It just took a heady action to wake them up, and God, they were roaring.

Over the months she had memorized how he laughed when she said something hilarious, how his eyes raked over his suited-up body before a mission and how his lips twitched into a small awe-struck smile at the sight, how they frowned when he read something upsetting on his phone as she ran her fingers through his hair and how he kissed other random girls at clubs when they decided to go out after a long day of training. She always regarded him with longing and thought damn, he looks like a good kisser.

But with his lips against hers, breathing in the other with the taste of sweet liquor and honey, she never knew just how good he would be when it was her he was kissing.

She was overcome with a surge of lust and suddenly pushed his shoulders off her, pressing him against the sink and welcoming the hot pressure of his hand under her shirt as he groaned and explored her mouth with his tongue, tasting something sweet - her sweetness; a tantalizing hue of rose and cotton candy.

Bucky breathed hastily into her mouth and detached his lips from hers so he could kiss the column of her neck.

She felt her body buzzing with excitement and sighed, carding her fingers through his hair as he hummed against her skin.

She had never felt excitement quite like this before. Usually with other hookups she felt excited and maybe a little horny, but this was different - Bucky was utterly intoxicating and his warmth made her delirious with lust and anticipation.

The relationship they had was deeper than most and held more meaning than the randoms she met at clubs. He wasn't just a random one night stand. He was Bucky and he made her happy.

With that thought in mind, she smiled and pulled Bucky up, peering into his blue-grey eyes.

"Buck -"

"Sh," he encouraged, reaching behind her head and pulling her forward, pressing a kiss to her lips. "Let me taste you."

Those four words were enough to make her orgasm on the spot.

She sighed and smiled, breathing into the kiss.

"This is crazy," she mumbled against his lips, teeth clashing as an involuntary smile forced its way onto her face, "Who'd have thought we'd end up like this."

She heard Bucky's chest rumble against her own.

"It's insane," he breathed, detaching his lips from her own to continue his assault on her neck. "You looked so lovely, hon, I just couldn't help myself."

The old fashioned term of endearment made her core feel like it was connected to a live, hot wire that only Bucky Barnes could control.

She dipped her head back and tangled her fingers into his dark tresses. His lips were hot against her neck and his teeth bit at her skin, soothing the blossoming bruise with a sensual lick of his tongue.

"Shit," she mumbled, closing her eyes as she got lost in the heady movement, "You're quite sexual for an old man."

Bucky chuckled against her skin, bringing his head up to peer into her longing eyes.

His lips were red and puffy and his hair was the epitome of the word messy. The sight of him made her want more.

She smiled softly and leaned forward, putting her fingers on the front of his suit as she pulled him towards her.

"Fuck me, Bucky," she whispered pleadingly, peppering his neck with little kisses, "I can't wait anymore."

Bucky's breath hitched as she hit the perfect spot on his jugular. He tossed his head back and groaned quietly, already in shambles, threading his fingers through her hair.

"You want to do this right here?" he asked quietly as she hummed, "Are you sure?"

She pulled away and Bucky swore there was an evil gleam in her eyes.

"Yes," she whispered, brushing her lips against his. "I want you to fuck me right here."

Bucky groaned and threw his head back, face contorting into a look of pure need.

And that was all the confirmation she needed.

She slammed her lips onto his again, but this time, it wasn't for the sake of fun, but for the sake of lust.

"Fuck, honey," he hummed, moving forward to catch her lips as he ran his hands up her shirt, "You don't know what you're doing to me."

She couldn't muster up the words to reply. His ministrations on her breasts over her top were inhumanly good---she silently thanked whatever God there was because she had felt an urge to go without bra tonight; it had done her mighty well.

Bucky grinned at her lack of response. "Baby, you're absolutely fucked already, aren't you?"

She bit out a desperate whine of agreement and his grin widened.

"That's what I thought," he whispered. His eyes only seemed to get darker as he peppered a trail of kisses on her jawline to the side of her lips, not bothering to fully kiss her. His hands started to un-button her top, and when he couldn't take apart those damn buttons thanks to the sheer size of his hands and the level of inebriation he was in, he scowled and ripped her front open.

She gasped. "That was my favourite shirt!"

"I'll buy you a new one," is all he mumbled as he began trailing kisses over the top of her breasts, to her belly, to over where she wanted—needed—him most.

She moaned and rocked her hips towards his face.

Bucky smirked. "Eager?"

With a gulp, she nodded.

Bucky's eyes darkened. "Perfect," he whispered.

His hands found their way to the button of her pants, undoing the top. She shimmied them off with help from Bucky, heart in her throat as her chest heaved with anticipation.

Bucky's eyes were staring. Her wetness was practically seeping through her thong, and if it was anyone else she was with she would have the mind to be embarrassed, but she was too drunk and high on Bucky Barnes to find it in herself to care.

"Aren't you lovely," he whispered to himself, bending down on his haunches. He looked up at her through hooded eyes, pressing a languid kiss to her calf, then her quad, then the inside of her thigh.

"Bucky," she whined, "Don't tease. They're gonna notice we're gone if you don't get to it."

Bucky's eyes seemed to get brighter.

"Then I'll have to make you come before then." He looked animalistic. "I don't care whether it's on my tongue or cock."

Y/N's eyes nearly bulged out of her head.

Then he connected his lips to her clothed core.

It was just an innocent lick, but the absurdity of it being her teammate she was doing it with sent a wave of spirals down her body, a strong bolt of electricity travelling to the apex of her thighs.

"Shit, Bucky," she gasped, squeezing her eyes shut as she tried her best to keep quiet.

She felt him smirk against her core. He licked up her wet panties again before finally, finally, pushing them to the side, allowing him to touch and see her most vulnerable part.

His blue eyes morphed to a shade of grey, desperate.

"Jesus, doll, you're soaked," he said quietly, amused, gazing into her dripping core with a small look of satisfaction.

Y/N felt a flash of embarrassment. "I know," she muttered, having half the mind to apologize for some strange reason, but she didn't have the chance; Bucky's lips were connected to her pussy now.

"I fucking love it," he grumbled. His eyes were the darkest she'd seen them yet. "You're so..."

He didn't finish his sentence. He started eating.

Y/N threw her head back, arching her back as her whole body shuddered. She but out a yelp, biting her lip as she tried to keep quiet, but Bucky didn't care.

Slurping on her pussy as if it was his last meal, he licked a stripe up her lips to her clit—which of course he knew how to find—looking like he was in utter bliss. There was no hint of smugness in his face, only the want for pleasure and the need to give it.

It made her for restless for more.

"Fuck, you're close already, aren't you," he mumbled. He nibbled on her clit, making her suck in a breath and squirm under his touch.

She nodded in response, eyes squeezed shut, barely able to form words.

Bucky only nodded slowly, running his finger up  her core to collect her juices. He looked pensive for a moment, all before bringing his finger to his lips and sucking on them. He hollowed out his cheeks and closed his eyes, groaning, as the taste of her took over his tastebuds.

The sight nearly made Y/N come.

"Mm." Bucky's eyes fluttered at the taste, eyebrows furrowing into a desperate knot. "You're lovely."

Y/N couldn't respond.

He leaned forward, putting his muscular arms on both sides of her. He brought a hand to her jaw, rubbing his thumb against her cheek.

"Suck," he demanded, voice low.

Nodding slowly, she took his pointer finger into his mouth and obeyed. She hollowed her cheeks as her tongue wrapped around his finger, warm from her dripping core, eyes fluttering shut at the taste of her arousal.

She hummed lowly, brining up a hand on hold onto Bucky's arm.

"Doing so good for me," he rasped, "Doing so well."

Y/N felt a shudder course through her body.

The moment was sensual and sexual and Y/N wanted nothing more than for Bucky to fuck her—until the thought was shattered by a quick knock to the door.

"Hey, Y/N, are you in here?" Sam Wilson's voice echoed out, causing Bucky to groan and put his head in his hands. "I think Thor's looking for him!"

Y/N frowned, looking to Bucky, confused.

"Uh," she slurred, watching that familiar gleam make its way back into his eyes, "I don't know where he went, sorry."

Bucky snickered like a mischievous child and Y/N almost whacked him.

Behind the door, she heard Sam swear loudly.

Y/N frowned. "Why do you need him? What's he done this time—oh!"

Her eyes became the size of saucers as she felt Bucky's thick fingers thrust up into her dripping pussy. She threw her head back and hissed, trying to bite her lip to keep quiet.

Bucky looked like he was having the time of his life; and to make matters worse, he just pressed his lips to her clit.

Y/N gulped and nearly forgot about Sam. Completely enamoured by the blue-eyed soldier in front of her, she had half the mind to tell Sam to fuck off and let her enjoy her orgasm, until she heard his voice again.

"Are you alright?" he called, suddenly sounding concerned, "I just heard something." He paused. "Don't tell me you fell in the toilet again."

Bucky almost laughed, but he put a hand to his mouth before it could escape.

Y/N shot him a glare from between her thighs, "I didn't fall in the toilet, thanks, it's nothing."

Sam went quiet for a moment; but of course, in the quick silence that followed, Bucky took the liberty of beginning his ministrations again.

She rasped a heaving breath. The pleasure of his tongue on her core was nearly unbearable and it took every ounce of strength she had not to moan.

"Y/N?" Sam asked again, bless him, "Are you sure you're alright?"

Bucky nibbled her clit and she squeaked, clamping a hand over her mouth.

"It's n-nothing!" she replied, face contorted, "I just... fuck, I just slipped."

She could heard him mutter something that sounded suspiciously like, "Drunk bastards," before continuing his spiel.

"Well," he said, "If you know where Bucky is, can you relay this message to him?" Sam didn't let her respond before saying, "Thor's pissed because all the Asgardian liquor is gone. I'm assuming it's Barnes because Cap doesn't drink and it's the only thing that gets super-soldiers drunk."

She squeaked out a brief hum of acknowledgment, lip tucked between her teeth with such pressure she nearly drew blood.

Sam hesitated for a moment before deeming the interaction good enough, rapping his knuckles on the door in farewell.

She suppressed a scream at how well Bucky's fingers worked into her.

Suddenly, he stood up from the ground, fingers still working their assault on her pussy. His eyes became a stern line and he looked at her with an expression that almost read anger, though she's pretty sure he wasn't angry—maybe annoyed?

He pressed his hand to her mouth to silence her and she nearly bit it.

"He left," she hissed, "Why are you stopping?"

Bucky held up a finger, eyes calculated, before—in perfect timing—pointing to the door as soon as Sam said, "You still in there?"

Y/N's lustful gaze became weary.

Bucky put his head in the one palm that wasn't inside of her.

"When is he fucking leaving," she heard him growl, looking like he had half a mind to run to the door and kick him halfway across town. "I swear to fucking God."

Sam, obviously not hearing the interaction from inside, continued, "—Yeah, so basically Thor said he'd curse Buck if he found out it was him and I don't want him to sprout feelers from his head or some other crazy shit, so I thought I'd tell you. Yeah."

He went silent, probably awaiting a final response.

Bucky looked to Y/N expectantly, raising an eyebrow as if saying, he isn't going to leave until you talk.

Y/N rolled her eyes and went to nip playfully at his smug figure, only before his fingers curled perfectly inside of her, causing her eyes to roll back in her head as a low gasp rasped through her throat.

"Fucking bastard," she hissed.

Bucky smirked.

She looked to the door, "Thanks for the info," she said in response to Sam, trying her hardest to keep her voice even, "I'll tell him when I see him."

Sam's voice sounded oddly smug from behind the door.

"Yeah, okay," he said. "Let me know when you find him."

She heard his footsteps echo away and nearly let out a screech of pleasure. The sheer relief of finally being able to be slightly louder and feel the way Bucky played her like a fiddle was unparalleled to any kind of relief she's ever felt.

"You almost gave us away," Bucky muttered suddenly, jolting her from her thoughts. She expected him to look upset, but he looked anything but angry; he looked pleased. "You almost got us caught, sugar," he repeated.

Y/N bit back a response, "It's a little hard to be quiet when you're fucking doing—THAT!"

For some unknown reason, when she was talking to The Cockblock she presumed, Bucky took the time to undo his belt and pull out his dick. Unbeknownst to her, his cock was out and pushing into her without warning.

Her eyes widened as the pair both let out a moan, hers considerably higher, his extremely satisfied.

"Fuck," Bucky drawled, looking utterly debauched as his eyebrows knotted together in pleasure, "You're so tight."

She couldn't manage a response.

Her eyes met his pleadingly, and from the amount of dangerous missions they both had to endure, he could read the fucked out woman like a damn book.

Please, she seemed to say.

A flash of concern surfaced under Bucky's eyes. Perhaps he misread her expression. But before he had an opportunity to voice it, she caught it and silenced it.

"Don't worry, Buck, I need you to fuck me—please," she breathed, begging, as his expression became level again. "I fucking need you."

Bucky groaned at the sight of her begging, and without any warning, again, he began to thrust into her.

She cried out, eyes wide as his girth stretched her perfectly, offering that sweet, sweet burn that she missed so much.

"Shit!" she moaned, eyes beginning to water as Bucky grunted, "You're so big, fuck, I can't—"

"Take it," he hissed into her ear, voice so hot is seemed to scald her lungs and eat her up, "Take my cock."

Her eyes rolled back into her head. His filthiness was incredible and sent a direct throb of pleasure to her clit.

"God," she moaned out, having to hold onto Bucky's biceps as his jackrabbit thrusts pounded into her at such a quick rate she could barely keep conscious. The pleasure was so consuming she nearly fainted in his arms.

He grunted and squeezed his eyes shut as she clenched around him, tangling her trembling fingers into his hair. He grabbed her calf and hitched it onto his hip, hitting her at such a deep angle it had her falling apart.

She yelped and almost cried out again before Bucky crashed his panting lips into hers, swallowing the moan.

She kissed him back feverishly, tongues twisting as both of their eyebrows furrowed in none other than pure ecstasy. He brought up his other hand to cup her cheek, pulling her closer towards his shiny lips, spilling his sweet spit into her mouth.

The movement was so hot and sexual coming from him she almost became delirious with the pleasure.

"Fuck," she moaned against his lips, his own mouth wide open and breathing hotly into hers as curses spewed from her own, "Oh, God, shit, Bucky... fuck, Buck..."

Suddenly, the moment became tender and her quiet utter of his name was the catalyst.

For a split second his thrusts slowed, kiss turning languid, the fingers that were pressing into her cheek relenting their harshness...

The reality of the situation suddenly sank in.

Y/N was fucking her partner, her best friend, in the bathroom of some random club.

And without any warning, a laugh bubbled from her lips.

Bucky pulled away, thrusts slowing as his lips twisted into a pout.

"What?" he breathed.

Y/N snorted and fell against his shoulder that was now bare (though she can't remember ever taking his shirt off), laughs falling uncontrollably from her puffy lips.

"We're fucking in a bathroom," she tried to contain her laughter as Bucky's gaze softened, blue eyes starting to glimmer, "We're fucking in a bathroom."

"Yeah, we are," Bucky laughed, voice dripping in mirth as a small smirk twisted up his features. He brought up a hand to cup her jaw and kissed her nose. "It's weird for me too."

Y/N frowned, wiping a bead of sweat from her forehead—the sweat that he had induced—in such a nonchalant manner that for a split second, Bucky thought that he had half a mind to continue his earth-shattering thrusts.

"C'mon, it's not weird if we're drunk," she said, trying to ease that sense of sober guilt that seemed to be poking through that drunken fog more and more. She smiled. "I like having sex with you," she paused, "In a bathroom."

Bucky laughed and dropped his head to her shoulder. "God, we're insane."

Y/N smiled and kissed the top of his head. "Yeah, I know."

Bucky went quiet for a moment. Suddenly pressing a gentle kiss to the top of her shoulder, her amused gaze softened considerably.

He didn't speak for a few moments.

He brought his head up to look at her, blue eyes glassy and lips puffed. His gaze was loving, and she were so invested in it she almost didn't notice his hips slowly starting to pick up again.

No words were exchanged this time, and she gladly let him continue his thrusts because this time, this time, it didn't feel like a drunken blur. It felt like intimacy. It felt like making love in a location that is absolutely not ideal, but it also felt like sex. Not a crude fuck, not a one night stand, but sex, with someone she genuinely cared about.

Bucky's hips met hers as burning eye contact never wavered, hand pressing against her cheek.

"Fuck," he mumbled, biting his lip in a way that had her whimpering and clenching around him, "You're so pretty."

It was a drastic change from the filth he was speaking before but the simplicity of the statement made her heart feel warm.

Her eyes glimmered and she sighed, arching her back, bare chest meeting chiseled planes of muscle. She brought up a hand to cup his face.

"You're so handsome, Bucky Barnes," she whispered.

Bucky's reaction was immediate: blue eyes softening, eyebrows knitting together in a love-filled line, lips threatening to break into a smile. He didn't know how to respond, so he opted with the only way he knew how to show it, which was emphasizing that he understood.

He kissed her.

His thrusts sped up and her chest was heaving, breasts bouncing against his chest, dog tags dangling and chilling her heated body, but she could barely feel any of those sensations.

She only felt Bucky.

She closed her eyes and melted into his kiss, and though it was a little messy and miscalculated thanks to the alcohol still roaming their veins, she tried to relish every second of it.

Bucky knew how to kiss. More specifically, he knew how to kiss her.

Y/N sighed.

"Bucky," she whispered, feeling her core tighten again as his thrusts were back up to the earth-shattering speed he was at before, "Open your eyes."

And slowly, he did.

He brought his head up to look at her, mouth hanging open and lips shiny with spit, eyebrows contorted as he felt her and only her.

The room spun out of view and it only became Y/N and Bucky; moans on moans, flesh on flesh, metal hand cupping her jaw and flesh hand rubbing vigorously on her clit, Bucky so painfully close to release and Y/N already teetering on the edge.

"James..." she suddenly moaned into his neck, pressing a chaste kiss to his earlobe, "'M gonna come, oh god, fuck, James—"

It was his name spilling like a prayer from her lips that prompted him to provide her with the last thrust that had her coming. Hard.

Y/N's eyes rolled back into her head, hands tangling in his dark tresses as he chased his own release, knocking his head against her collarbone. Grunts and broken moans rasped from his throat, coaxing her high to reach its unbelievable peak.

Electricity scorched through her entire body and she felt like it could shoot through the tips of her fingers. She felt like she was floating, like she was in her own content subspace that had Bucky and only Bucky... she was writhing, mouth open in a silent scream.

Her mind-bending orgasm set off his own within seconds.

"Fuck, Y/N," he gasped, groaning so deeply she nearly felt it rattle her bones. With a low, choked moan, he finally came inside of her, coating her walls with his seed as she shuddered, masking the urge to violently shake.

There was a silence.

Bucky's head rested on her clavicle, chest heaving; her eyes were shut closed, breaths coming out hard, hand combing through his hair as she leaned back against the counter, back hitting the mirror.

Y/N figured Bucky didn't know what to do when the situation was tender for him. Perhaps he was uncomfortable. The poor man was so traumatized and broken that she was just thankful he was able to show some of that love inside of him that still lingered—perhaps it would take some coaxing to bring out, but she knew that she could.

In a sense, she always knew the real Bucky Barnes was in there somewhere.

Gingerly kissing the top of his head upon hearing his shaky, relieved sigh, he brought up a hand to gently squeeze the side of her thigh. She smiled.

Things could not get any better.

Until another sharp knock on the bathroom door made her and Bucky jolt apart, puncturing the content subspace. Again.

"James Barnes, you cannot drink all my liquor and expect to get away with it! I know it was you, you blasted scoundrel!"

A silence followed.

Y/N laughed loudly, and it was followed by a rather unattractive snort which had Bucky bursting out in laughter, too; she just proved that it was, in fact, Bucky Barnes that drank the liquor all along, and that she was in there with him.

She faintly heard Sam yell, "I told you they were fucking!", though in an odd way, she didn't find it in herself to care.

She felt okay.

-ˋˏ ༻✿༺ ˎˊ- 

note: if you don’t want to be tagged, pls don’t hesitate to reach out and i’ll gladly remove you from the list :) also tagging sum moots & blogs that i adore !