#buckyxoc

The morning started like any other; Bucky rose at dawn and left on his morning run, leaving Alana to burrow deeper into their plush comforters. She settled into the warm dip he’d left behind, drifting back to sleep among his scent. It was mid morning when she rose again, warm light streaming through the windows.

The hardwood floors were cold beneath her bare feet, the kitchen tiles colder. Any thoughts of the discomfort, however, escaped her mind as Alana caught sight of the coffee pot. She approached it, mood already improving, more so upon realizing it was filled and ready to brew for one. A smile tugged at her lips. One push of the button and she retrieved the desired add ins.

Her mind wandered briefly to Bucky and what time he might be home, fingers fiddling with the hem of her (Bucky’s) shirt. They’d planned to have a lazy Sunday, staying indoors and avoiding the heat of summer. A stack of movies sat waiting on the tv stand, and they’d pull the blackout curtains before settling in. Buck had insisted on at least going for a run (or two) and she made no objections, looking forward to the quiet moments alone.

Coffee in hand, Alana turned to the living room, swiping the soft blanket she’d used the night before and settling at the end of the couch. Moments later she was once more settled comfortably among her favorite blanket, watching her favorite show and sipping coffee. The best way to begin a lazy Sunday.

Emptying her mug rather quickly, Alana set it aside and stretched out; she hadn’t meant to doze off, but in her position it was almost inevitable.

When she woke again, it was dark. Panic gripped her chest and she shot up, sleep rushing away like the tide. Had she really slept into the night? Alana sat up straight and was surprised when the familiar soft fabric of her blanket brushed her head. A small sigh escaped her lips. Stupid, she thought, you’re under the blanket!

And yet, something wasn’t right. Sitting up beneath the cover should have resulted in a tent draping down to her lap, but now it hardly brushed her hair. Confused, Alana stood, raising her hands to push against it. It was heavier than she remembered. A lump formed in her throat, and suddenly she was rushing forward, feet sinking into what she knew to be the couch cushion.

Her heart was racing as she finally burst into the light, blinking furiously to adjust. She stood frozen as the landscape of the living room came into view. The cushion she’d once rested on and fully taken up with her ass alone now spread before her like a field; to her right the blanket formed hills taller than she was now. Far off past the coffee table the tv still quietly played, its pictures a blur of color as she struggled to comprehend the situation. She’d shrunk. Alana now stood at a mere two inches, stranded alone in the apartment she shared with her boyfriend.

Bucky! A wave of relief washed through her. Yes, he would be back any minute now and notice right away she was missing. With his super soldier hearing, there was no doubt he’d hear her yelling.

Filled with new energy, Alana scrambled over the edge of the blanket, stumbling and struggling to maintain her footing among the now knee high fibers. She climbed the nearest hill and perched at the top, trying to ignore the realization of just how small she was.

Thankfully, she wasn’t forced to wait long. The sound of keys in the lock drew her eyes to the door, and moments later the massive form of Bucky Barnes stepped inside. He wore a gray top and dark sweats; the shock of seeing her boyfriend towering high above her even at a distance stunned Alana into silence. Well, that and the glistening sweat over his shoulders and bulging biceps. She was caught even longer in this trance as he removed his shirt in one fluid motion, balling it in his fist to wipe his brow.

Only when Bucky took a step towards the hallway was she shaken from her thoughts. “Bucky! Bucky wait!” It was too late. In three steps he entered the hall, another three and he was in their shared bedroom, no doubt preparing for a shower. Alana sighed, running a hand down her face at her own foolishness. Who could blame her? The man she had no problem complimenting as a god had never looked more like one than he did now.

Alana shook her head; from the hallway came the sound of running water. Forcing herself to remain focused, she secured a higher spot, wishing to be as noticeable as possible when he returned.

It wasn’t more than twenty minutes later his steps approached. Alana stood straight and raised her arms. Bucky wore only a pair of red boxers, his hair down and dripping. He turned into the kitchen and she lowered her arms. Of course; how long will I have to wait? She thought bitterly. The familiar sounds of the coffee machine and fridge opening and closing filled the space, urging her ever growing anxiety.

Then, finally, finally, Bucky approached the couch. Arms up, Alana began shouting, “Bucky! Bucky look down! Help, please!” He held a steaming mug with his flesh hand; before she knew it he was towering over her, eyes focused ahead as he suddenly turned and presented his rear. Dread filled her as she stared at the expansive surface that was her boyfriend’s boxer clad ass. Thankfully, he was descending on the cushion beside her, but that didn’t spare her from the effects of his massive weight crashing down.

The ground beneath her shifted violently, sending her flying from the blanket with a shout. She landed with a bounce on the couch cushion, sliding towards the massive thigh. Alana caught hold of the couch fibers and halted her movement, sucking in air to calm her racing heart as Bucky settled.

Above her, he sipped his coffee, unaware of the turmoil he was causing his minuscule girlfriend. Alana hauled herself up, craning her neck back at the mountains of flesh before her.

“Bucky!” She tried again. “Bucky please! Look down!” The giant man made no motion to show he’d heard her. Alana sighed in defeat and turned towards her next option; the cloth of his boxers was loose, offering numerous footholds and places to grab. If she were lucky, he’d look down and realize it was her as soon as she touched him.

Alana approached slowly, the couch cushion dipping sharply towards his weight. Preparing herself, Alana leapt and grabbed hold of the soft cloth and quickly hauled herself up. She made it to the top without trouble, resting on her knees to catch her breath. Looking up she was greeted by Bucky’s bare stomach and abs, her eyes following his happy trail until it disappeared into his boxers. Alana swallowed the lump in her throat as she realized just how close she was to Bucky’s cock, the only thing separating her tiny form a thin cloth. She forced her attention away and stood, swaying on the uneven surface and looking up. A few stray drops of water remained on his chest, pausing their journey down every few inches.

Again, Alana raised her arms and began to shout. “Bucky! Bucky look-“ just her luck, it was at that time her giant boyfriend decided to shift; his hips slid forward and raised up slightly before settling back down. Alana fell on her back, cries for help turning to startled shouts as once again her world shook.

There was nothing she could do to stop her rolling, the folds of the boxers to big to grab hold of. “Bucky!” She shouted once more before stopping at her destination-the small hammock between the thigh and bulge. The smell hit her then, a mix of soap and natural musk.

“Oh, no. Bucky!” Panicking, Alana struggled to stand, swaying unsteadily. “Bucky damnit look down!” Her hands groped desperately for purchase, for anything she could use to haul herself out of this hell.

Naturally, her efforts led only to Bucky’s bulge. Alana fell still, staring desperately up at her boyfriend for help. His gaze remained fixed ahead on the tv far behind her. Had it really come to this? Her eyes drifted to the cock she’d come to know so well; only then it didn’t dwarf her, as she knew it would now should she wish it.

I just need his attention, she tried to reason with herself, he’ll have to look down, surely! Convincing herself it would be as it had been many times before, Alana hauled herself up and lay over the bulge, working her hands along its length. It responded instantly, pulsing gratefully at her touch.

She looked up to Bucky’s face and found that same distracted expression. Alana worked faster, hauling herself up to straddle his member. This drew out his first sharp breath. Under different circumstances, she may have been into this, and wondered briefly if Buck would feel the same. However, as she turned again to see if Bucky was looking down, her heart sank.

With his eyes closed, Buck tilted his head back to rest against the couch as he received sudden bolts of pleasure to his growing cock.

“Bucky!” She paused her motions and tried once more to call to him. “Bucky look down! I’m down here!”

Steams in the winter sometimes lmao

No one’s allowed to talk about his arm steaming 

Sam did once. Once. 

had the heater shit added cause Des is always freezing - kept making him scoot away at night >:(

Des is usually WRAPPED around bucky’s arm

Below 70? Glued to his personal heater

Loki doesn’t feel the cold so much, but his hands are freezing

 Sometimes makes Loki warm up his hands on his arm before he’s allowed to touch anyone

He should do the same to Des. He does not

Loki tries to complain about the double standard but Des just looks at him like 🥺 and he gives up

Desmond is 100% manipulating them into letting him put his icy death hands on them

Des gets to be a little evil

He makes his way towards the back gate. He hates the front gate, the front lobby, the fucking elevators. His new condo complex is filled to the brink with fresh-faced graduates who think yoga in the lobby at six in the morning is cool, and young lawyers who care more about their style than the case they’re handling. Bucky has a few skills in... stalking, and he’s followed, on more than one occasion, a few of his fellow tenants. They are not as professional, immaculate, and put together as they portray. Most of them are late on their bills, don’t know how to cook for themselves (evidence enough in their garbage), and are not as vegan as they say they are.

The back gate to his new, government-issued condo leads to the short but quaint backyard that everyone can share. Let me rephrase. It is a fully furnished back yard, with an outdoor pool in the summer and a patio, for a condo complex of 100 units. It’s chaos.

But in the early hours of morning, there is only Savannah filming her morning yoga and Youssef on the jump rope. The hot summer rays are beginning to heat the outdoors as Bucky lounges the wall, desperate to not be spotted. He hates interacting with these people. They only talk about themselves.

“Meatball!”

The back door, which leads to the only staircase Bucky ever uses, flies open, and a girl comes running out, screaming. She slams brutally into Bucky, knocking the breath from his lungs, and by instinct, by the things put in him without his consent, he robotically wraps an arm around her shoulders and hauls her against him.

“Meatball!”

She struggles against him, messy hair getting into his face, and Bucky realizes she’s in a panic and releases her. She smells of clean soap and... flowers.

Bucky watches her tentatively. She’s wearing pajama shorts that cover barely anything at all, a loose camisole, and a short pink vest.

She stares at Bucky with big, wide eyes drinking in the first rays of morning sun. “Did you see a tiny little cat?” she asks, her voice roach, breathless. She’s probably been running.

Bucky shakes his head.

She’s beautiful, he realizes.

“He’s tiny!” she sobs, looking around. By now, she’s garnered the attention of jump-rope-man and yoga-girl. “Have you two seen a tiny little brown kitten?” she calls to them. They both shake their heads, exchanging a concerned look.

“Oh, God,” the girl mumbles, looking around. Her eyes are red from crying, her lips bitten raw.

Bucky feels the beginnings of pity and empathy build between his ribs. It’s numb, as it always is, because HYDRA took his ability to feel, and as his therapist said, it is up to him to harbor any emotion in order to feel better.

He takes a breath, biting the inside of his cheek. “Where did you see him last?” Bucky asks.

The girl turns to him, as if unaware of him even if, seconds ago, she was pressed up against him, albeit briefly. She frowns, raking a hand in her messy hair.

“Uh, in my condo,” she sniffs. “I left the door slightly open to get to the chute, and when I came back, he was gone.”

“And he’s a kitten?” Bucky asks.

She nods. “Yeah, he’s two months.”

Bucky gestures towards the stairs. “Then he wouldn’t have taken the stairs.” The girl nods, completely trusting him, and Bucky finds that he likes that, that he likes her dependency on him. “He’s too small. He’s probably in the hallway. Or hiding.”

She bolts for the stairs, Bucky behind her. “I’m on floor eleven,” she says, and Bucky groans. She couldn’t have been on an even higher floor?

By floor five, the girl is panting, slowing, sweat evident on her brow. Bucky watches in silence, begging his mind not to take him there, to where his eyes want to go. To where his mind is titillating towards. He’s careening, holding onto the imaginary railing in his mind.

She smells so good, and in the confined space of the stairwell, he can smell her everywhere. His heightened senses beg him to turn, to touch her, to taste those red lips, feel her skin that now glows from her exertion.

“I’m Elora,” she breathes, ripping him from his reverie.

He stares down, back at her, where she slowly follows behind him. “Bucky,” he says. “Or James.”

“You have two names?” she asks, her voice between sarcasm and true curiosity.

“Your cat’s name is Meatball,” he deadpans.

She snorts. It’s cute.

She’s evidently out of breath and physically drained by floor ten, and Bucky gives slight encouragements for her to continue. Her hair, loose and messy, has begun to stick to her cheeks, but she is more adorable now. Her face glows from the exertion, and Bucky watches her neck as she strains up the last stairs.

“I didn’t think about coming back up when I came running down,” she breathes as she reaches for the door to her floor.

Bucky grimaces. “We should have taken the elevator.” But he hates elevators. The space is so small, confined, and he can’t feel the air in his lungs nor on his skin. It’s like being buried alive. But he doesn’t tell her that.

She chuckles breathlessly as they emerge into the hallway. The rug is dark brown, just like on his floor. The walls are pristine, lights on the walls, on the ceiling. If Meatball was here, they’d find him.

Elora takes a second to catch her breath, leaning against the wall. Bucky lingers by, not even out of breath.

“Are some sort of marathon runner?” she asks between gulps of oxygen.

Bucky snorts. “No.” He puts his hands in his pockets, trying not to watch her chest heave up and down with every labored breath she takes. “Just fit, I guess.”

She rolls her eyes.

“Why Meatball?” Bucky asks, curious, unable to keep himself from asking her questions.

Elora swallows hard, finally starting to even out her breathing. “Well, you know that apartment block on the other side of the street?” she asks, jutting her chin. Bucky nods. “On the basement ground, there’s an apartment with, like, a whole zoo in there. I’ve never seen the owners. But I’ve seen all the animals. Sometimes I…” she trails off, laughing, pushing herself from the wall.

She starts to walk past him, towards her apartment, and Bucky follows. “Sometimes you what?” he insists, following a few steps behind, head down as if to appear uninterested but he’s shimmering with curiosity. What does this girl do on her free time?

She laughs again. “Well, you don’t work for the police, do you?”

Bucky raises a brow. “Are you murdering innocent people, animals?”

She stops, turns, looks up at him with a frown. She’s so close, he can smell her so much, see every detail of her skin, her eyes, her lips. “No,” she says. “I just go and… rescue those animals. You should see the living conditions.” She resumes walking. Bucky follows.

“So,” he begins, “if I got this straight. You break and enter into an apartment and steal their pets?”

She waves him off.

And just as they turn the corner of the hallway, Elora exclaims, “Meatball!”

She rushes towards a small, tiny little speck of brown fur curled up in front of door 1116. Elora picks up the kitten, cradling it to her chest, cooing and kissing it.

Bucky sighs. “He is very cute,” he acknowledges, eyeing the tiny creature with a small smile. Elora makes a noise of agreement. “So you stole Meatball from the apartment over?”

She rolls her eyes again, a behavior Bucky finds endearing.

“He was starving in there,” Elora mumbles. “I’d been in the apartment a few times. Giving the animals food. But this little guy here, I found nibbling on a rotting meatball. I just… took him home.” She looks up at Bucky with a daring expression, as if challenging her to say anything else about the wrongs of breaking and entering.

Bucky just shrugs, intent on knowing how exactly this girl breaks into homes to free dying cats from their neglectful owners.

“Hence the name,” Bucky mumbles.

She chuckles, nodding, and moves towards her door. “Well, mister James or Bucky… or whatever,” she says with a bright smile, stealing something in Bucky that makes him want to barge through that door with her. “I’ll see you around.” She gives a shrug of her right shoulder, tossing Meatball around in her arms, and turns to enter her condo. Bucky glimpses a soft, grey couch and the smell of vanilla.

“Yeah,” he breathes, steeling his gaze, hearing the soft click of her door closing.

He walks down the hall, back to the stairwell, the empty, grey, echoing stairwell, and shuffles his way down.

On floor five, he takes out his phone and dials Sam.

Ever since Sam took on the mantle of Captain America, the man has been busy, to say the least. But he always picks up when Bucky calls, and Bucky is counting on it.

“Wilson!”

“God, that’s arrogant,” Bucky replies in a low, mocking tone.

“Mister Barnes,” Sam sing-songs, chuckling. “What a pleasure. What you been up to, man?”

“Nothing.” Lie. “I’m going to need some gear.”

There’s a silence, a very concerned, friendly silence. “For what?”

Bucky hesitates. “Surveillance.”

“For who?”

“You’re going to laugh.”

Sam chuckles. “Damn right, I am,” he answers. “Tell me who’s it for.”

“There’s an apartment building on the other side of my new place that is neglecting their animals.”

“Oh,” Sam says. “Well, anything for you, Mister Animal Savior.” Sam chuckles but Bucky can hear the concern, the fear of being lied to, in his voice.

“I prefer Sir Pet Rescue,” Bucky retorts, but there’s barely any humor in his tone.

After dinner we are all sitting around the lounge area, chatting. Everyone is there. I'm sitting on a couch with my feet up, leaning into Steve, his arm around my shoulder, and Nat at the other end. Tony, Wanda, Vision and Bucky are sitting opposite of us. On the third couch Clint, Sam and Bruce sits.

Some of them are drinking beer but it's all very casual as we all sit around, basically doing nothing.

I glance at Bucky who meets my eyes instantly, almost like he felt it. I give him a soft smile that he returns before looking back down to the beer in his hand, biting his lower lip.

I don't mind that he looked away - the longer eye contact I keep with that man, the harder it gets.

"Let's watch a movie," Wanda suggests and everyone agrees. Tony asks FRIDAY to turn down the lights and Wanda finds a movie on Netflix. I get a blanket from the end of the couch, covering myself and Steve as I cuddle up close to him.

As the movie progresses I feel him moving my shirt up slightly, drawing lazy circles on my waist. It tickles but it also feels good. I still feel the electricity whenever he touches me and I know I said it was hard being around him without touching before, but being around him now and touching him, but not really touching him, might be even harder.

We also didn't have sex this morning because I was in a rush and although I know it's insane, I'm very horny at this point. I'm used to him acting like a teenager and having sex once or twice a day, so it's actually a very long period of abstinence at this point.

I lean my head on his shoulder and he shifts me slightly, my back leaning against his front as he leans on the sofa arm. I feel his hand move slowly against my stomach and it makes me tingle already. I glance up at him quickly, telling him to be careful with my eyes, but he just smirks down at me and kisses my head.

He moves his hand further down and I almost hitch my breath. I'm trying to be quiet and not move, and luckily the room is very dark and the movie very loud. Thank god for surround sound.

As he moves his hand down my pants I shift a little, allowing him better access, leaning my head back further, relishing in the feeling.

He feels how wet I am and whispers in my ear, "I guess you missed me too, huh?" and his taunting tone is making me even more needy.

He's stroking me up and down my slit as he feels how wet I am. He whispers in my ear again, "I would take you right here, right now, but I'm not so sure the others would enjoy that very much." I almost moan as he says it but I manage to stop myself in time.

As he moves further down and slowly enters a finger inside me, I open my eyes at the sensation. I look around, conscious of the people around us, but none of them seems to notice anything.

That is, until I glance towards Bucky.

His gaze is locked on me as he watches me intensely.

We make eye contact and he keeps me hostage, his bright eyes demanding in the darkness of the movie. I want to look away but I can't - and as Steve enters another finger in me, my breath hitches slightly and I see Bucky react instantly, his eyes turning dark.

Steve is fingering me slowly as Bucky watches and I know he can tell what's going on. I can't look away although I know I should, I know this is wrong. But it doesn't feel like being caught - it feels like being watched by someone enjoying the show, excited about what's being done to me right now.

I rip myself away from Bucky's eyes but he keeps his fixated on me. I glance up towards Steve, expecting him to be watching the screen, but as I see where his gaze is, I see him noticing Bucky looking. He glances down at me, smirking, as he stops his motion, asking permission. I contemplate it for a fraction of a second before moving against him, urging him on, and he does instantly, still aware that Bucky is currently watching right now, but seemingly either unfazed or turned on by it.

He did tell me they used to do this sort of thing and I definitely felt his reaction to us getting caught by Bucky the last time. I know I should feel weird about this, but I don't. It feels wrong, hot, wild and insanely sexy, all at once.

Steve's still fingering me and he moves his palm to stimulate my clit, and I feel the familiar knot in my stomach at his motions. I glance down before looking back up at Bucky through my eyelashes to see if he's still watching me.

He is.

He holds my gaze once again and as Steve hits a familiar spot, I part my lips slightly, only a tiny whimper of a sound leaving my lips. Normal people would never hear it. But the Super Soldier sitting across from me, watching me intensely right now, obviously does, as he licks his lips and shifts slightly in his seat.

My heart is racing and my mind is getting cloudy with lust. I close my eyes as I get closer, breaking eye contact with Bucky.

In the darkness of my closed eyelids I see Bucky, his metal arm around my throat, whispering profanities in my ear as Steve touches me.

I bite my lower lip to keep from any sounds coming out and as I'm close to reaching climax, I shoot my eyes open, meeting Bucky's gaze once again. His eyes are dark and dominating, almost urging me on. Telling me to come.

I do, silently, not moving a muscle other than the one Steve feels right now. It takes all my strength.

Steve reacts to what he feels and kisses the top of my head before leaning down and whispering in my ear again, "That should keep you at bay for a while."

I am still holding eye contact with Bucky who is looking at me like I'm his next meal at this point.