#dom!bucky

You reach up, fingers brushing the chain at his neck. “Leave them,” you breathe, because the sound is filthy in its own way, the soft metallic music of him claiming you.

But Bucky’s eyes, stormy blue, pupils blown wide with lust darken further. He leans down, mouth brushing your ear, breath hot. “They’re distracting you from what I want you feeling.”

In one smooth motion, he catches the tags between his teeth. The chain pulls taut against the back of his neck, the metal plates disappearing into his mouth. His jaw flexes, lips parting just enough for you to see the silver edge glinting against his tongue. The sight alone rips a fresh wave of heat through you, Bucky, the Winter Soldier, reduced to biting down on his own history just so he can fuck you without anything getting in the way.

He groans around the tags, the sound muffled and raw. Then he drives into you harder.

No more clinking. Just the wet slap of skin on skin, the creak of the bedframe, and the obscene sounds of your body taking him. His metal fingers dig into your hip, cool and unyielding, while his flesh hand slides up to cup your jaw, thumb pressing at the corner of your mouth like he wants to feel how wrecked you are.

“Look at me,” he demands around the metal. His voice is distorted, rougher, sex-drenched. Sweat beads at his temple, dark hair falling into his eyes as he fucks you with punishing precision, long strokes that bottom out and grind against that spot that makes stars burst behind your eyelids. Every time he bottoms out, his abs flex against your clit, and the tags shift between his teeth with the motion, a constant, visible reminder of how much control he’s exerting just for you.

You moan his name and he bites down harder, jaw tight, eyes locked on yours like he’s memorizing every gasp, every flutter of your cunt around his cock. The chain trembles against his throat with each thrust. You can see the way his tongue moves against the tags inside his mouth, the way his lips are shiny with spit, and it’s so fucking filthy you clench around him involuntarily.

“That’s it,” he growls through clenched teeth, the words barely intelligible but vibrating straight down to your core. “Milk me, doll. Let me feel how much you love this.”

Your hands scramble up his back, nails digging into scarred skin and metal plating alike. He’s relentless, hips snapping faster now, the wet sounds louder, your slick coating his balls as they slap against you. The dog tags stay right where he put them, trapped between those perfect teeth, catching the light every time he pulls back to look at where you’re stretched around him.

You’re close. So fucking close. And Bucky knows it, he always does. He drops his forehead to yours, tags still clenched tight, breath coming in hot pants around the metal. His voice is a broken rasp:

“Come on my cock while I’ve got these between my teeth, baby. Want to feel you fall apart knowing I’d do anything- anything- to keep fucking you right.”

The orgasm slams into you like lightning under your skin, sudden, devastating, unstoppable. Your back arches sharply off the mattress, a broken cry tearing from your throat as your pussy clamps down hard around his thick cock, fluttering and pulsing in relentless waves. Pleasure rips through every nerve ending, white-hot and overwhelming, leaving you shaking uncontrollably beneath him.

Bucky doesn’t stop. Doesn’t even falter. He keeps fucking you through it with those deep, grinding thrusts, hips rolling relentlessly as he chases his own release, dragging out your climax until you’re a whimpering, sobbing mess beneath him.

Only then does he let the tags fall from his mouth, spit-slick and gleaming, dropping heavy and cool against your heaving chest. He buries his face in your neck, groaning your name like a prayer as he spills deep inside you, hips stuttering, metal arm braced beside your head so he doesn’t crush you.

For a long moment, there’s just the sound of your ragged breathing and the faint, final clink of the dog tags settling between your sweat-slick bodies.

Bucky kisses the side of your throat, soft and reverent now, his lips brushing tenderly over the spot where his teeth had been clenched moments before.

“Next time,” he murmurs, voice hoarse, “I’m putting them between your teeth. See how quiet you can stay while I ruin you.”

You laugh breathlessly, already aching for it.

— yours truly, ѕℓυtdιεr.

You hadn’t meant to say it, but your hormones clearly had other plans.

“It’s my ovulation week,” you breathed, nuzzling against his stubble. Your voice trembled with need, barely a sound. “Everything… feels extra.”

His hand had stopped, just for a second.

Then, danger. Pure danger. The way his fingers tightened possessively at your waist, the low hum he gave in response, and that glint in his eyes, it was not just mischief, his gaze was hungry almost as if he couldn’t wait to claim you.

That’s when you knew you were in trouble.

Now, the next morning, you’re standing in the mirrored gym on trembling legs with a kettlebell in your hand, sweat sliding down your spine, and your boyfriend is watching you like he’s about to drag you into the nearest closet and fuck you into the drywall. Not that you minded though.

He’s leaning against the wall across the mat. Casual on the surface. But the tension in his jaw and the weight in his stare?

It was anything but casual.

His sweatpants hang low on his hips, framing the sharp cut of his v-line and doing absolutely nothing to hide the thick, heavy outline of his cock beneath the cotton. His black tank is soaked through from sparring, clinging to the hard planes of his chest and abs like a second skin.

Bucky's got that calculated look in his eye almost like he’s pretending to assess your form, but really, he’s picturing bending you over the nearest bench and wrecking you six ways from Sunday.

You shift on your feet, stretch your arms overhead, arch just enough to let your back curve and your chest push forward.

If he’s going to tease you, you’ll tease back.

That’s your first mistake.

The second is letting out a moan, quiet, soft, instinctual as you bend down to touch your toes. It was barely audible, but he hears it.

The moment it escapes your lips, his eyes flash. And then, he moves.

Not a walk. A stalk.

He pushes off the wall and prowls toward you across the mat, slow and deliberate, like a wolf scenting its prey.

You straighten up too quickly, nearly dropping the kettlebell.

“Need a spotter?” he drawls, his voice pitched low and lazy, but his eyes rake over you like he’s already got you on your knees. “Or are you just making those noises for fun?”

You swallow, trying to look as unimpressed as possible. “Just warming up.”

He hums, circling behind you.

You feel the heat of him before he touches you, his presence like the sun, warm and overwhelming. You can smell him, too, sweat and cedar and something feral. And then, he kneels behind you, dragging his palms slowly up the backs of your thighs like he’s not in the compound's gym right now.

“Mm,” he murmurs. “We should stretch you out more.”

Your breath catches.

He parts your legs wider, his metal hand sliding between your inner thighs to nudge them open. You gasp as the fabric of your shorts pulls taut across your aching core, the pressure sweet and cruel.

“Bucky—” you whisper, heart racing.

“Shhh.” His breath ghosts over the curve of your ass. “You’re being so good. Standing still like this. Letting me see just how fuckin’ desperate you are.”

His fingers dance under the hem of your shorts, barely grazing your skin. Teasing your soaked, sensitive flesh without mercy, but he doesn’t touch you where you need though. Just close enough to ruin you.

“You’ve been wet since last night, haven’t you?” he murmurs. “Could feel you clenching around nothing when you were grinding on my lap. Bet you soaked through your panties when you slept.”

You tremble, the heat between your legs now unbearable. You want to scream, maybe even cry, perhaps drag him into the supply closet and beg him to fuck you until you can’t walk.

And he knows it.

“You told me it’s your ovulation week dollface” he whispers, voice dark and sinful. “That means this little pussy’s hungry, huh? Just aching to get filled.”

“God, you’re evil,” you whisper through your teeth, trying not to fall apart in front of the squat rack.

He chuckles. Presses a kiss to the side of your thigh. And then—he stands. Just like that.

Leaves you there, shaking, soaked and empty.

You spin around, panting, barely restraining the urge to launch your kettlebell at his head.

Bucky smirks, that infuriating, self-satisfied look that says he’s enjoying your torment a little too much.

“I think Yelena’s done with the sparring mat,” he says, voice loud enough for everyone to hear. “Why don’t you grab it, sweetheart?”

Your face burns and your clit throbs. And Bucky walks off like he didn’t just edge you in the damn compound gym.

You turn and meet Yelena’s smug grin.

She’s still jogging on the treadmill but slows to a bounce-walk as she tosses you a towel. “You look like you need a different kind of workout, sweetheart.”

“Don't.”

Yelena leans on the handrails. “No, no, I’m just saying—” she lifts an eyebrow— “the mat isn’t the only thing that’s going to get stretched out today.”

You throw the towel at her face.

She catches it mid-air, laughing.

“Tell Bucky to let you finish next time,” she calls as you storm off to the locker room, “Or at least let us know so we can film it!”

Somewhere near the dumbbells, Bob chokes on his protein shake.

You don’t even know what this briefing is about.

There’s a map stretched across the table, John is mid-rant about “optimal insertion points,” Alexei’s chewing sunflower seeds with the enthusiasm of a man watching spring training, Ava is checking her knives for the third time, Yelena’s leaned back in her chair, scrolling through her phone, occasionally snorting at whatever she’s watching.

And Bob, well Bob is asleep. 

But none of it matters.

Because Bucky is sitting next to you. And his fingers are buried between your thighs.

From the outside, everything looks innocent. His flesh hand rests gently in your lap, your own placed demurely over his like the two of you are just quietly close, sweet, even.

But beneath the table, where no one can see, his metal hand is sliding past the waistband of your shorts with deliberate, devastating precision.

He doesn’t even pretend to rush. Two thick fingers move in slow, torturous circles over your clit, skimming with maddening pressure, barely enough to satisfy, but just enough to make your legs tremble.

Your breath catches, body frozen in place, every muscle tight with restraint. He knows exactly what he’s doing, how to touch you just right, how to coax those tiny, helpless reactions from you while you try to sit still and pretend you’re paying attention to a goddamn map.

His fingers stroke like he has all the time in the world, like there isn't a room full of operatives around you and a mission briefing happening overhead. A soft whimper curls in your throat and dies behind your teeth.

You squeeze your thighs together, trying to catch more friction, but that only makes him chuckle under his breath, barely audible and smug as sin.

And still, he doesn’t go deeper. Doesn't give you what you're aching for. Just keeps circling, teasing, controlling. Like this is a game, and you’re already losing, pathetically.

You sit stiffly, back ramrod straight, every muscle locked as you try not to make a sound. Your tablet is open in front of you, gripped so tight your knuckles ache and it's the only thing grounding you in this room while your body burns.

He leans in, voice low, lips grazing the shell of your ear. “You’re fuckin’ soaked,” he murmurs, and you can hear the smirk in it. “You really gonna cum in front of the team, princess?”

Your breath hitches. “Bucky,” you whisper, voice sharp like a warning, like a prayer.

He doesn’t stop. If anything, his touch gets lazier. Crueler. His cold vibranium fingers part your folds like he owns every inch of you, and he dips just barely inside, only to pull away, dragging the wetness back up to swirl gently over your clit again.

“You said you needed me,” he continues, brushing his nose against your temple. “Said your body’s beggin’ for it. I’m just helping”

“Are you two doing this again?” Yelena asks flatly, without even looking up. Her tone is dry as dust. “She’s vibrating like she’s possessed, someone get her a snack before she faints.”

You glare daggers at her, but it’s weak, your body is already betraying you.

Alexei squints at you across the table. “I thought she had blood sugar issue”

“She’s ovulating,” Bucky announces casually, not even bothering to lower his voice.

Ava groans. “Jesus, Barnes, you can’t just say that.”

“She told me,” he shrugs, like he’s reading weather reports. “I’m being supportive.”

You make a choked sound as he presses down harder in tight, purposeful circles now, inescapable. Your hips twitch without your permission, Bucky's not even fucking you yet, but you can already feel the orgasm winding tight in your belly like a wire stretched too thin.

“I hate you,” you grind out under your breath, nails digging crescents into your palm.

He turns just enough to meet your eyes, that wicked glint in his blue gaze that makes your lungs seize. “Say that again when you’re cumming on my fingers, pretty girl.”

But he doesn’t let you get there.

Each time your body trembles on the cusp, he pulls back, slows, teasing you with strokes so feather-light they feel like punishment.

You’re soaked, shaking, every inch of your skin flushed with heat. He’s wrecking you in silence, in full view of your teammates, and no one’s the wiser, save for the few who clearly suspect exactly what’s happening under the table.

“Bucky,” you beg, barely audible, lips barely moving. “Please.”

He tilts his head, brushing his mouth over the corner of yours. “Not here, sweetheart.” His voice is velvet, low and dark and dripping with promise. “You wanna be bred, honey? Stuffed full like you’re meant to be?” You whimper, and he smirks. “Then you’ll wait.”

“Okay,” Walker claps his hands like a kindergarten teacher trying to salvage control, clearly frustrated. “Unless Bucky would like to finish fucking his girlfriend under the table, can we maybe circle back to the infiltration routes?”

“Bold of you to assume he hasn’t started,” Yelena mutters, not even glancing up from her screen.

You want the ground to swallow you whole. Or set the whole damn briefing room on fire. Maybe both. 

Bucky withdraws his hand with excruciating slowness, fingers slick with your arousal. He doesn’t bother hiding it. Instead, he drags them along the inside of your thigh, leaving a glistening trail before wiping them off on your skin like he’s branding you. A silent, possessive mark that has your breath catching in your throat.

He leans back in his chair like nothing happened, legs spread in that display of dominance, expression unreadable but infuriatingly smug.

Completely relaxed. Completely in control.

And you? You’re ruined. Wrung out and twitching. Every nerve ending crackling with frustration, your body screaming for the release he just denied you.

Then he turns again, tilting his head so his lips hover at the shell of your ear, voice so low it shivers through your bones.

“Kitchen. Twenty minutes. Don’t wear panties.”

You almost beat him there.

Almost.

You're already perched on the edge of the kitchen island, legs swinging slightly, thighs pressed tight together in a poor attempt to dull the ache pulsing through your core. Your shorts are somewhere back in your room, discarded in your frenzy to get here fast enough, and you’re bare underneath his black t-shirt, no panties, no shame.

Just soaked thighs and need.

The cotton of his tee clings to your skin, damp with sweat and arousal. Your nipples are pebbled against the fabric, the cool air in the kitchen brushing over them each time you shift. You’re a mess of frustration and anticipation—hot, dripping, ruined—and all because he didn’t let you finish at that stupid meeting.

Then the sound of footsteps.

He strides in like he owns the whole fucking building—sweatpants hanging low on his hips, dark tank sticking to his chest, muscles flexed, jaw tight. But it’s his eyes that stop your breath. Cerulean blue, blazing and feral.

He takes one look at you—legs spread, thighs gleaming, lips parted in silent plea and something in him snaps.

He crosses the space in two steps and his hands are already on you.

“You waited like a good girl, huh?” he rasps, voice wrecked and raw, lifting the shirt up and over your chest. “Sittin’ here all wet and desperate, no fuckin’ panties like I told you. Fuck.”

You don’t get the chance to answer—he’s already kissing you. Hard and possessive. Open-mouthed and filthy, all tongue and teeth and the sharp edge of punishment. You moan against his mouth, clawing at his waistband, nails scraping the hard lines of his hips.

His vibranium hand slides between your legs and you nearly sob. He groans into your mouth as he feels how wet you are, how ready.

“Been leaking for me all fuckin’ day,” he growls, dragging slick fingers through your folds. “You know what I want, don’t you, baby? Want that sweet little cunt full. Stuffed so deep you feel me for days.”

“Please,” you pant, grinding shamelessly against his hand, desperate. “Need it—need you to fill me up, Bucky, please—”

That’s all he needs.

He spins you around and bends you over the island, chest pressed to cool marble, ass bared and ready. There’s no teasing this time. No patience. You feel the thick, blunt heat of him at your entrance and brace yourself—

Then he slams into you with a brutal thrust.

You cry out, loud and unrestrained, one hand slapping the counter, the other gripping the edge like a lifeline. Bucky bottoms out instantly, stretching you open, splitting you around the thick length of him.

“Fuck,” he groans, snapping his hips. “Tight fuckin’ pussy. You were made to be filled by me.”

He sets a relentless pace, hips slamming into your ass, the sound obscene and echoing off the tiled walls. Each thrust drives your body forward, forces breath from your lungs, drags you closer to the edge with reckless, punishing efficiency.

“You want it in you, huh?” he pants, gripping your hips like he’ll never let go. “Gonna fuck you full, baby. Gonna fill that greedy pussy ‘til it’s dripping down your thighs. Want my cum deep, want me to breed this needy little cunt?”

“Yes!” you scream. “Fuck, yes, yes, please, Bucky, fill me,"

He snarls, pace turning savage. “Gonna take it. Gonna fuck a baby into you right here on the goddamn counter. My needy little slut, my good girl.”

You unravel, shaking, twitching, walls spasming around him as your orgasm hits you hard, pleasure burning through your bloodstream, exploding behind your eyes. You sob his name, voice wrecked.

Bucky’s right behind you.

He grits out a curse and drives in deep, cock twitching as he spills inside you, hot, thick and endless. He keeps grinding forward as if he could somehow fuck his cum deeper, claim every inch of you from the inside out.

And then you heard voices and footsteps from the hall.

Yelena’s voice rang out, “You know we eat food on that counter, right? Like with our mouths?

Alexei exclaims, “Walker owe me twenty bucks!”

John retorts, dry as ever “at least she's not complaining now.” Ava laughed, “Told you they wouldn’t make it to sunset”

And you could vaguely hear Bob asking if they were supposed to see this.

You bury your face in your arms, groaning. “Kill me. Kill me now.”

Bucky chuckles, actual laughter, low and warm, chest shaking against your back, he presses a kiss to the base of your neck, then another to your spine. “Don’t worry, sweetheart,” he murmurs.

He pulls out slowly, a filthy squelch of sound following, then hums when your thighs glisten with his release. “Look at that,” he says softly. “Already leaking. Just how I like it.”

You melt when he wraps his arms around you from behind, chest to your back, still warm and panting.

“You did so good for me,” he whispers, brushing your hair off your cheek. “So perfect. Gonna clean you up, put you in bed, and hold you all night. You earned it, needy girl.”

You sigh, body boneless.

And when he lifts you off the counter like you weigh nothing, bridal style, you don’t even resist. You just curl into his chest, letting yourself be carried away, dripping and satisfied.

“I love you,” he says softly into your hair as he walks past the rest of the team like you two didn’t just fuck in a common area.

Despite everything, despite the chaos, the teasing, the way he just wrecked you in the kitchen, you smile.

“I love you too.”

Even if you’re banned from the kitchen forever.

a/n: thank you so much for reading my sweethearts! ❤️ please leave a comment or a reblog if you enjoyed this fic! it keeps me motivated 🥰

soft!dom!bucky who figured the next gift he'd give you would be something a little smaller. he doesn't want to overwhelm you, or make you think you're not capable by accepting his help. so, he figured a bouquet (that cost way more than bucky will ever tell you) and takeout from your favorite restaurant would be a good start, dropping them by your apartment after your shift from hell. actually, he thinks it's the bare minimum in a relationship, but he can tell you're not used to receiving things just for the hell of it, and he wants you to get used to it. so. starting small is necessary. you were still a little hesitant to take the flowers, but bucky could see the way your eyes lit up at the beautiful arrangement, the way you stumbled through expressing your gratitude as though you were trying not to show how touched you were at the gesture.

soft!dom!bucky who makes it a point to buy you a new bouquet every sunday. it's always a different arrangement with vibrant colors and calming scents, and always comes with a little note, each one different than the last. to my princess, just for being you, or you deserve things as beautiful as you are, or you've made me the happiest man alive. and all of the notes end with from, your daddy<3. and bucky absolutely preens when he steps into your apartment one day and finds himself in your bedroom, only to see the cork board on one of your walls with all of his notes pinned to it.

soft!dom!bucky who always pays when you go out to eat. and, this is pretty normal with all of the dates you've been on with any of your past partners, but it's the location of the dates that gets you. the restaurants get more and more expensive as time goes on, and you have to fight not to gawk at the prices of the entree's alone. the first time you went to a higher-end restaurant, you started with a single glass of wine and scoured the menu for any dish that cost less than fifty dollars, only to find none. bucky saw your deliberation, and he caught on quickly as to why you seemed stressed, causing him to place down his own menu and reach over the table to grab your hand and tell you to order whatever you want, princess. you like steak, right? let's get that. when you quietly fought him on it (the steak was fucking 65 dollars??), bucky insisted that he doesn't care about the price. he wants to treat his princess to a nice evening and this place has the best food in town.

soft!dom!bucky who refuses to call maintenance or talk to the landlord about any issues his place has. he's pretty handy and can fix most broken things on his own, so he always opts to work on a project himself. this also applies to you. the hinges on your cupboards are loose? baby, why are you calling maintenance when you know I have a toolbox? ac went out again? princess, hang up the phone and show me where it is. the first time he fixed something for you, you offered to pay him for the 'inconvenience', to which bucky looked absolutely offended, claiming that helping you isn't an inconvenience, princess, I'm your boyfriend, of course I'm going to help you.

soft!dom!bucky who always offers to drive you anywhere you need to go. he doesn't trust public transportation and he has a perfectly good vehicle, so why would he let you take the bus? especially since he knows you'll be safe, away from prying eyes and people sitting uncomfortably close to you. you tried offering him gas money a few times, but he always turns it down immediately with princess, it's only a 10 minute drive, I'm not losing that much gas, or driving you places isn't a chore, I just love spending time with you.

soft!dom!bucky who eventually starts ramping up the generosity. as time goes on, you're less hesitant to accept his smaller gifts and gestures, which bucky absolutely loves. it feels like serotonin is being pumped directly into his veins when you stop appearing guilty every time you take his gifts or let him buy your groceries for the week. it also helps that you give him a kiss afterward, a little thank you for treating me even though I don't really believe I deserve it.

soft!dom!bucky who nearly gets an instant erection the first time you ask for something. granted, it's just a blanket from your local farmer's market, but still. you're asking for something! he pauses for just a second too long, relishing in the fact that you're taking that step, but you interpret his silence as rejection, so your smile immediately falls. you start assuring him that it's okay, I'll just buy it! it's fine, I just thought - interrupted by him taking out his wallet and shoving too much money into the stall-owner's hands as he says you absolutely will not be buying it, I've got it. and he has to recite his grandma's old apple pie recipe to will away his hard on any time you look up at him with those doe eyes and timidly ask for the painting hanging in one of the stalls or a new cup of coffee after you've finished the one he bought you when you first arrived. he does, but insists you drink water to offset the jitters he knows you'll get if you don't hydrate.

soft!dom!bucky who swears nothing will ever compare to the feeling he gets when you send him a link to an apparel website with a screenshot of the new blouse you've been eyeing but have been hesitant to purchase because of the price. you offer to pay for shipping, but bucky ignores that text and simply sends you a screenshot of the confirmation email he received and lets you know that it'll be at yours in a few days. he loves that you're coming around to letting him treat you, that you've stopped apologizing for needing or wanting anything from him. he'll spoil you rotten any day of the week, and he's so happy that you're starting to love it too.

He holds up the vibrator — a slim, rose-colored thing he’s already charged, tested, memorized the settings on. His thumb flicks it on. The quiet hum is menacing.

“Hours,” he promises.

You try to push your legs together, but his shoulders are already settling between them.

“Bucky—”

“Ah ah,” he interrupts. “No whining. You asked what it was like when I really let go. When I stop holding back. This is what it looks like, baby.”

He drops the toy beside him and licks a long, slow stripe up your slit.

And then it begins.

At first, it’s slow.

Teasing.

He kisses like he’s got time. Like he’s not in a rush to get anywhere, because he’s already home. His hands keep your thighs spread wide, thumbs rubbing soft circles just to keep you relaxed.

He sucks your clit into his mouth gently, just enough to make you arch. And when you try to chase it, he pulls back and grins.

“You taste unreal, sweetheart.”

Your fingers curl against the ties.

“I could live here,” he breathes against you. “Never leave this pussy. Just eat you for breakfast, lunch, and fuckin’ dessert.”

Then he flicks his tongue fast, just once—sharp—and you squeak.

He hums, satisfied. “There’s that sound.”

After the first orgasm, you’re gasping.

After the second, your legs start to shake.

By the third, you’ve already forgotten your name.

He doesn’t stop.

He doesn’t stop.

“You still with me, doll?” he murmurs, sliding the vibrator between your slick folds.

You whimper, already twitching.

“I know,” he coos. “Sensitive. That’s the point.”

He holds it there, humming low and steady, while his mouth returns to your clit—tongue working in messy circles, slow at first, then faster when he feels you tense.

You break again.

Your thighs tremble. Your eyes squeeze shut. Your mouth drops open but no sound comes out.

And still—still—he doesn’t stop.

At some point, you start begging.

“Please—Bucky, please, I—I can’t—”

“Yes, you can.”

“I’m—s’too much—”

“You can take more,” he says calmly, darkly, like he’s in church and you’re the altar. “This pussy was made for my mouth.”

He flattens his tongue. Sucks your clit again. Moves the toy slightly—just enough to drag the vibration against that sweet, aching spot inside you that makes your hips jerk.

“You’re perfect,” he groans, half-drunk on your taste. “So goddamn perfect. Can’t stop. Don’t wanna stop.”

He licks you through another orgasm, and another, and another—until your voice breaks, your thighs quake, your throat aches with his name.

“Say it again,” he murmurs. “Tell me who makes you come like this.”

“You—Bucky, fuck—you do, you—”

He kisses your thigh sweetly. “Good girl.”

You lose track of time.

All you know is the sheets are soaked. Your hair’s stuck to your forehead. Your wrists are burning and your whole body buzzes.

You feel like a live wire.

Like the edge of a scream.

And still—still—he’s going.

His mouth glistens with you.

His beard’s wet.

His fingers trace shapes on your hips while he presses the vibrator deep again, like he’s mapping constellations on your skin.

He murmurs praises like prayers between each wave:

“So beautiful like this.”

“My favorite fucking thing.”

“God, I love this pussy.”

“You taste better than heaven.”

When you finally sob his name—beg—he stops.

Just for a second.

Just to look at you.

Tears in your lashes. Lips swollen. Body wrecked.

He smiles. Soft. Worshipful.

“You’re mine,” he says, kissing your knee.

“All mine.”

And then?

You could hear him before you could see him, the sound of metal on metal unmistakable, and then the door to room 205 slammed shut behind a fleeing doctor and his cry of anger was released into the corridor. 

“Bucky?” You pushed the door open again, peering inside. 

“Don't, baby, just go and I'll come to you when -” he cut himself off, thrashing side to side. 

205 was somewhere between an officer's quarters and a hospital room, it was furnished like a bedroom, but away from the mess hall and regular sleeping areas downstairs. You'd expected to see Bucky hooked up to machines, maybe an IV drip, at least a monitor. 

But Bucky was handcuffed to the bed. The vibranium cuffs attached at each corner, spreading his body across the sheets. He’d shed his shirt and leather jacket, but his tactical pants still stretched over his thick thighs, his boots kicking out despite the restraints around his ankles. 

“Bucky, what happened?” 

“Doll, please -” he grit his teeth, jaw ticking, and set his head back on the pillows, “I don't want you to see me like this, go home, I'll come back.”

‘Like this’ was sweating and writhing, veins bulging in his already flexed muscles, sweat forming on his brow. 

“I can't leave you, what happened?” 

“Hit,” he tugged at his bonds again and you noticed red welts forming on his right wrist, "serum booster something, they were trying to - ugh -” he arched up, a vein in his neck pulsing, “enhance, but I - hit. We don't know - ugh - what it will do to me.”

Despite his otherwise out of control appearance, Bucky's blue eyes were clear and pleading. This was painful, you were sure, made worse by his movement in the cuffs. 

“You need to calm down, baby, stop moving.”

“Can't,” he tugged again, rattling the cuffs. 

“Let me help,” you stepped forwarding, shedding the big coat you'd pulled on when you left the house in a hurry. Your nipples pebbled under the flimsy nightdress you'd been wearing when you got the call. Bucky took a deep inhale at the sight. 

“No, no, no - I'm here because I could - fuck, baby, I could hurt someone. I don't wanna hurt you, go - fucking hell you look so damn delicious - go home!” 

But you ignored him. Instead you knelt on the end of the bed and unlaced his tactical boots, sliding them slowly off and setting them to the floor. Bucky kept his eyes squeezed shut. 

It did feel better to have them off though, and he rolled his ankles in relief, despite the cuffs. 

“Better, baby?” Your hand was on his leg and he managed to get out a quick nod before your hand moved higher, higher. He thrashed. 

“Seriously, you have to stop, what if I -” 

“You won't hurt me, you're a good man, Bucky. And look at you.” 

Your hand left his leg, the bed moved and he cracked his eyes open in time to see you settle in his lap. He bucked up, involuntarily he was sure, and revealed in your giggle as you grabbed his tac belt for stability. 

“Hmm, later, Bucky baby. Let me take care of you first.”

Your hands were back, sliding up his chest. He'd put on weight, since moving in with you, coming home to a hot dinner every night, desserts on the weekend, treats on dates. You liked seeing him well and happy. Beneath your hands the feel of his abs was still there, an undeniable strength, but he was so soft too and you loved that about him. The softness that he only shared with you, that he had gained through your love and care.

“Doll-” his warnings were beginning to sound whiny, pleading, and you could feel his familiar hardness growing beneath you now. 

“Just let me look after you,” you repeated, though you weren't sure if this was for him or you.

Your hands grazed higher, over his pecs, brushing your thumbs against his nipples, and up to his tense shoulders. It would hurt, you knew, to have his arms pulled like that. Especially his left, where the vibranium met skin and muscle. You'd massaged that spot enough times to know exactly where to dig your thumbs to make him say - 

“Fuck - I can't -" the cuffs rattled again, his hips driving upwards and knocking you off balance, leaving you in one of your favourite places, sprawled over his chest. He was thick beneath you, spreading your thighs wide, his cock straining against his zipper and pressing up between your legs.

“Bucky - let me take some of that pressure off, I love you so much - I” 

He tipped his head, catching your lips in a bruising kiss. Your hands clutched at his hair, turning his head to the perfect angle, lips parted you kissed him back fiercly in a whirlwind of his desperation and your need.

“We shouldn't - the doctor said -” 

Your hands were gone again, leaving his hair mussed on the pillow. 

“You're mine, Bucky, I won't have anyone else telling us how I take care of you.” 

The zip on his pants was close to splitting and so was Bucky's sanity, back arched from the bed, teeth bared. Slowly you popped the button and lowered the zip, allowing the hard length of his cock to spring free.

Like the rest of him, Bucky's cock was beautiful, thick and ready, the vein running up the side pulsed beneath your palm, precum beading at his red tip. He looked delicious.

“Do something,” Bucky's hips pumped again and again, thrusting up into your grip. You let go and he growled, low and throaty, body straining against his bonds. “Get your hands back on my dick right now.” 

You shivered, lust coursing through your body like fire. "I thought you told me to leave? Besides, wouldn’t you rather have something else?” You teased, leaning forward and licking a long stripe from his base to his weeping tip, gathering his pre-cum on your tongue and groaning lewdly in satisfaction. 

“Fuck!” He tugged again and the bed groaned. “Do that again.” Instinctively, you lent forwards and wrapped your lips around his head, sucking slowly and dipping your tongue into his slit. It was Bucky’s turn to groan now, head tipped back. 

He was thrusting up, trying to get himself as deep into your mouth as possible and - fuck - you loved him like this. Raw and wild and passionate. You had to have him, the need was so strong you could feel your heartbeat between your legs, arousal making your thighs slide together when you moved to sit up. 

“No, no, no, doll, please, what are you doing?” He pleaded, eyes wide in understanding when you climbed up to sit in his lap. 

Bucky’s cock lay hard against his soft stomach, your lips perfectly molded around it to push the tip against your clit when you rocked back and forth. It was delicious, this temptation, the tease. But Bucky was beyond teasing. He needed to be inside of you now.

With one last pull he broke free of the restraints. His hands, vibranium cuffs still hanging from his wrists, went straight to your waist, lifting you enough to impale you on his cock. 

He was so ready, throbbing inside of you, and the sensation of being empty and then so wonderfully full had you clenching around him immediately, teetering on the edge of an orgasm you weren't prepared for.

“No, no, Doll, this was your idea so you can fucking wait for me.” 

You wailed but clenched down, willing yourself to hold on for now.

Bucky set a bruising rhythm, holding you still as he thrust up into you, using your body to chase his own pleasure.

“Bucky I'm gonna -”

“No you're fucking not, you're gonna hold it like a good girl and cum when I say.” His voice was low, gravelly from shouting.

God. You needed it. It was like an electric shock, the power looking for an escape and ricocheting around your body until every muscle felt sore from holding back. 

“I can't, Bucky, I've got to-” you sobbed, tears welling in your eyes from the effort. 

“Cum,” he grunted, holding you down and grinding you onto his cock while your body went tight, light exploding behind your eyes, “look at me.” 

You opened your eyes and met his, dark with lust, and you twitched again, milking him as he filled you in three harsh pumps.

“Fuck,” he dropped his hands to the bed and you rolled off him. 

“Well, at least you didn't get sick from the serum, right?” You flopped back onto the bed. 

Bucky rolled into his side, looking down at you with a grin on his face, hand pumping his already hard dick again. 

“No ill effects, anyway.” He laughed, before sliding back between your legs. 

His patronizing tone pisses you off to no extent as you sit up and glare at him. "Fuck you, Barnes," You hiss.

"You wish you could," He sings with a smirk.

"Dr. Griesz said you should be back to yourself in a couple of hours; your serum doesn't make you as fast-healing as the soldiers'," Bob says, walking over to and kneeling on the floor next to the couch. "Don't beat yourself up about it, ma'am. I saw you fighting - you were amazing."

"Robert, please," You mumble, shaking your head. "Just leave me alone. I need a nap."

With a nod, he gets up and leaves the room after gently patting your shoulder - and the sudden silence makes you realize that Bucky is gone, too.

Finally. Some peace and quiet.

A few days later, you're on your way to one of the meeting rooms and humming a tune to yourself when you spot Ava talking to Bucky. Ava looks furious as she rants, glaring at Bucky who looks like he couldn't be less bothered about whatever it is he's being reprimanded for.

"I did you all a favor, didn't I?" Bucky says casually. "If anything, you should be thanking me right now. One less asshole on the streets."

"This is exactly how not to handle shit," Ava grumbles. "You almost caused an innocent civilian's death."

"I knew he'd be fine," Bucky hisses. "I dont need you micromanaging me."

"You're part of a team now, Barnes, and that means your actions reflect on us," Ava says. "What you did was reckless and could've hurt a lot of people. Don't do stupid shit like that. Ever."

With a huff, Bucky spins on his heel and storms away in your direction. When he sees you, he rolls his eyes before shoving past you, making you turn and chase after him.

"What was that about?" You wonder, speed-walking so you can keep up with him.

"Fuck off," He mutters, turning into one of the mission prep rooms. While he takes off his tactical gear, you notice the dried blood and bruises on his face.

"You haven't been fighting civs again, have you?" You ask with a smirk as you lean against the wall.

He pulls off his shirt with a huff. "Matter of fact, I have," He admits lowly, before bitterly adding, "N'you oughta be grateful."

"Grateful for what?" You question him with a frown, parting your lips when you see his sweaty abs. Grateful for the view, most definitely.

It's incredibly annoying that, as incredibly annoying as Bucky is, he's also incredibly attractive. In fact, when you first met, you were ready to ask him to take you home, until he gave you one look and decided you weren't good enough for his respect. Ever since then, you've hated one another.

He looks up from his boots at you, clenching his jaw. "For getting rid of your little buddy, Bong," He reveals, taking a few steps towards you.

You're taken aback by his words and you stand up straight. "What do you mean?" You question him lowly. "You-"

"Killed him," He tells you bluntly. "I didn't give him another chance to escape from prison, and I sure as heck didn't give him a chance to beat another Avenger. I killed him."

Entirely surprised, you raise a brow. "Why would you do that?" You ask. "He was my mission."

"And you were failing miserably," He points out dryly, taking a few steps closer to you. "He knew you were onto him, so he targeted you. You know what they found in his house? A detailed itinerary dedicated to your death. He hated your guts, Y/N, and so I ended his life," Bucky relays casually, moving closer until you're forced to step back and hit the wall. He then leans down, lowering his voice to a grumble. "'Cuz hatin' you is my job, and my job alone."

Speechless, you keep your eyes on his.

"And if anyone's gonna kill you," He goes on to say, wrapping his metal hand around your throat. "It's gonna be me."

Instinctively, your legs squeeze together as he restricts your breath, making your heart skip a beat. Knowing you're almost as strong as him, Bucky also knows he can go hard on you without actually hurting you, and it turns you on to no end when he uses his strength against you. He notices your bodily reaction and raises a brow.

"Seriously?" He asks with a scoff. "You're turned on?"

"Fuck you," You hiss through gritted teeth, hating how badly your body is betraying you right now. Get your shit together.

Bucky chuckles darkly, bringing his free hand up to your cheek. "Mmm, I bet you want to," He mutters teasingly. "You getting wet for me?"

When he brings his knees between your legs, rubbing it against your mound, you shudder. "You- you wish," You manage to say, cringing at your weakened voice.

He smirks, knowing he has total control in this moment. It isn't often that he feels powerful when you're in the room, so he soaks it in and decides to use it while he still can.

"Beg for it," He orders simply, his tone blunt and unforgiving.

Swallowing thickly, you meet his eyes. "What are you-"

"Beg me to fuck you," He elaborates, tilting his head with a wicked look. "You know it's what you want. What you need."

"Go to hell," You say through gritted teeth. "I'd rather die than let you touch me."

Bucky begins to move his knee, rubbing it against your cunt. You suck in a sharp breath as your stomach flips. For a few moments, your mind goes blank and all you can focus on is him - but then you gather yourself and do your best to push him away, making him step back. He's quick to retaliate, grabbing you by your hair before spinning you around and slamming your face against the wall. You let out a whimper just as you feel his crotch pressing to your ass.

"Say it," He whispers in your ear. "Just a few simple words, and you'll get what you want. What you were made for. All you're good for."

"Fuck. You," You seethe through gritted teeth.

After a few seconds, Bucky lets out a dark chuckle. "Good enough for me," He mutters before suddenly ripping apart your tactical pants.

You give up trying to fight back when you feel his hard cock brush against your thigh. He brings it to your whimpering, soaking pussy, rubbing the tip through your folds and keeping it in place as it finds your clit.

Your entire body is set alight as he rubs your clit with his cock, your fingers and toes going numb. Bucky rests his chin on your shoulder as he covers his dick in your juices, deep sighs leaving his nose.

"I wanna hear the special word," He utters teasingly into your ear. "Want you to beg me."

A shaky breath leaves your mouth as your hands clench into fists. Even in your desperate state, your pride prevails. "Never," You whisper.

"Alright then," Bucky replies casually, not giving you any hints as to what his next move may be.

He wraps his hand around the base of his cock and starts stroking it where it is, brushing against your pussy every so often. Your breath is stolen and your eyes wide. His grunts and groans make your stomach flip.

"Don't worry baby," He mumbles. "When I'm done, I'll make sure every drop of my cum coats your wet little pussy. Then you can go ahead and finger it into your hole, and hope it feels as good as my thick cock would."

You're shaking like a leaf beneath him, losing every last drop of willpower. Shit.

"Is that what you want?" Bucky asks you gruffly. "Or would you rather I fuck your brains out and fill you up myself?" The wetness from your pussy drips onto his cock which is already wet with pre-cum. You can hear the smirk in his voice. "Promise I'll get much deeper than your fingers, baby."

With a hiss, you choke out the word he's longing for; the word you'd have rather died than uttered.

"Please."

"Oh, no, no," He tuts, slapping his cock against your pussy. "You're going to have to do much better than that, baby. See, you've done nothing but disrespect me for six months now, and it's gonna take a lot more than a half-assed plead to earn my cock."

For fuck's sake. With a deep sigh, you swallow your pride and what's left of your dignity. "Bucky, please," You repeat with a little more sincerity.

"And...?" He goads you.

"And... I'm sorry. For being disrespectful," You continue, falling into submission, each word stinging a little less. "I hope you'll forgive me."

Bucky spins you around and takes your chin in his metal hand, holding it firmly in place. "Keep going," He orders you bluntly, still stroking himself while you reduce yourself to nothing for him.

"I... I know I'm not worth your time," You say, gradually allowing yourself to submit entirely. "I'm beneath you. I'm nothing. But please, just give me a chance to prove my worth. Please use my body. It's yours, Sergeant Barnes. To do with what you may."

His eyes flicker with wicked delight. Without warning, he lifts up one your legs and wraps it around his waist before pushing his cock into you. You throw your head back as you feel him fill you up, every inch making you shudder.

"Now, that's a good girl," He says as he bottoms out. "See? You're so much better behaved like this. Full of cock. Taking it, like the good slut you are."

Your eyes roll back as he starts fucking you hard. When you half-heartedly agreed to helping Yelena out with a recon mission months ago, you never thought it would lead to you getting your world rocked by the Winter Soldier.

But you're so fucking glad it did.

"That's it, fuck, you're so tight," He grunts, snapping his hips faster. "This is all you needed, huh? Just needed a good railing to shut that smart mouth of yours?"

Unintelligible whines escape your lips as he lifts you up, wrapping both your legs around him and pistoning his cock in and out you, keeping you in the air like you weigh nothing. Your arms wrap around his shoulders and your right hand moves up to his hair, grabbing a fistful of it and pulling it, making him hiss. He spanks your ass, once, twice, three times, each one pulling a squeal from your throat.

Suddenly, he pulls you off his cock and throws you to the ground, before mounting you from behind as he pushes you down onto your hands and knees. His cock gets much deeper into you at this angle, making your thighs shake.

"Such a fucking brat, always talking back," Bucky rants. "Always got something to say. How about now, huh? Cat got your tongue?"

As hard as you try, you can't get a single word out, nothing but sounds of pleasure and desperation leaving your mouth.

"Getting fucked stupid, just like the slut you are," He grunts, tightly gripping your hips and surely leaving bruises. "If I knew this was all it would take to shut you up, I'd have fucked you the day we met. And I bet you'd have been more than willing, huh? Willingly let a stranger fuck you, like a whore. I know you wanted it. I saw the look in your eyes. Fuck, maybe I should've. The past six months would've been a lot easier if I knew I could just fill your holes to keep you obedient."

Your eyes roll back as his words echo in your mind, driving you insane.

"I bet I could've fucked your face that night, right?" He wonders out loud with a dark laugh. "You'd have let me. You desperate little thing, doing anything for my attention. But instead of being a good girl, you got an attitude. So now, I gotta fuck it out of you until you know how to behave again. Shit, are you about to cum? Tightening around me like a fuckin' vice."

You suck in a sharp breath and hold it in as you feel your climax approach, pouring over your body like ice-cold water.

"Keep breathing, baby, breathe through it," Bucky mumbles into your ear as he continues fucking you. "That's it. Nice, deep breaths. Let it take over. Cum."

Your entire body shudders underneath him and for a few moments, all you see is white. You can't hear anything but your own heartbeat as you orgasm, pure, unbridled pleasure coursing through your body.

As you come back down, his voice comes back into focus. He's groaning, moaning your name as he empties his balls into you. "Oh, fuck, baby, good girl, that's my good girl," He mumbles weakly, his thrusts gradually slowing down.

You lay on the ground, breathing deeply, wincing when he pulls out.

"Oh, shit," Bucky breathes out with a sigh as he gets off of you, before taking hold of your shoulder and turning you over onto your back. He then takes your hand and pulls you up onto your feet. You immediately stumble so he grabs onto you, his lips curling up into a smirk.

"Don't give me that fucking look," You mutter bitterly.

"Aaaaaand there she is," He responds with an eye-roll. "That good-girl behavior didn't stick, huh?"

"Oh, Barnes," You sigh, patting his chest. "You're gonna have to do a lot better than that if you want me to be a good girl full-time."

He clenches his jaw while you gather your wits and stroll out of the room, thankfully able to hide your limp. With his hands in fists, he glares at your back. "Fuckin' tease."

eek first thunderbolts* fic <3 hope u enjoyed

bucky masterlist

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Sitting on the couch, you had a glass of wine in hand as you watched TV. You zoned back in as your phone chimed, vibrating on the coffee table. Picking up the device, you saw a text from Bucky.

Bucky: Just got back from a mission with Sam, you home doll?

You smiled, texting back a reply.

You: I'm home, everything okay?

Bucky: Need to get away from the compound, can I come over?

You: of course, doors unlocked

A little while later, you heard the doorknob turn as Bucky walked in, still dressed in his gear from the mission. "Hey Buck," You put down the glass of wine, walking over and pulling one of Bucky's beers from the case he had left at your house.

"Hey, doll, you know I have a key, right? Don't keep your door unlocked just for me." You shrugged, popping the top off of the beer and handing it to him as he toed his boots off.

"I knew you'd be exhausted after this mission, so I left it open for you. Plus you always forget your key." You smiled, padding back over to the couch and grabbing your glass of blueberry wine, wrapping yourself back up in your sweater.

Bucky followed, sitting beside you and wrapping an arm around your shoulder. He laid his head back, his beer bottle resting on his thigh. He let out a long breath, leaning over to kiss your forehead and pull you into his side. His metal arm rubbed over the top of yours, squeezing every once in a while.

"How was the mission?" You took another sip of your wine, resting it on Bucky's thigh as you looked up at him.

He shrugged, "It was fine. Sam got a couple stitches when we got back and Nat has a bruised rib, but all I got was a couple scratches."

"A couple scratches to you is never just a scratch, Buck."

Bucky let out a low laugh, turning to look down at you. "How about you make me forget the pain?" You smiled, sitting down your wine and putting his beer next to yours.

Climbing into his lap, you had your thighs over both sides of his legs, slowly grinding down onto him. "Fuck, doll." Bucky leaned his head back, looking at you before grabbing your throat and pulling you to kiss him.

You felt his mouth move against yours, tongues tangling together as you felt him bite your lip, making you moan.

You moved your hips against him, grinding down as you felt him push his hips into yours.

All of a sudden, Bucky wrapped his metal arm around your waist and flipped him under you. He pushed himself against your core, making your head fall back in pleasure.

Without warning, he attacked your neck with his lips, biting and sucking on your pulse point as his right hand wandered down your body.

Pulling your sweater from your shoulders, his metal arm still around your waist, he reached up and unclasped your bra. Your tits spilled out as he pulled himself from your neck he tugged your bra off with your tank top, baring you entirely to him.

"Tell me want you want, doll. " Bucky whispered in your ear, pulling your right nipple between his thumb and pointer finger. You moaned, nodding yes as you tried to kiss him again until he pulled back, shaking his head. "I need words, honey."

"P-please, Bucky, I want you." You moaned, biting his lip in between your teeth, feeling him play with your nipples, pinching and squeezing them.

"You want me to what, huh?" Bucky teased you, smirking as you whined below him.

"I want you to touch me, please." You begged, making him let out a low laugh, "All you had to do was ask, doll."

Without warning, he gripped your leggings and pulled them down along with your panties. Sinking down onto the ground below you, he pushed your thighs apart, looking up at you with dark eyes.

He teased you, sliding his finger through your slit and up to your clit with feather-soft touches. You squirmed, pushing your hips toward him more. "Bucky, please." You whined.

"You just told me to touch you, doll. You didn't-" "Oh my god, Bucky just-" He slammed his face into your pussy, cutting you off and turning your words into moans. He licked up and down before focusing on your clit, slipping his metal finger into your opening before adding a second one. He curled his fingers forward, making your legs shake.

You moaned loudly, your nails digging into your couch as your thighs started to close around his head.

"Uh-uh," Bucky removed his fingers from you making you let out a whimper as he slammed your legs apart. "Keep them open or I stop."

You nodded before seeing him tilt his head at you. "Yes..Sargent."

"Good fucking girl." Bucky dived back in between your legs like a man starved. "Oh, God." He smacked your thigh before slipping his fingers back inside of you. "Oh, Bucky!" You corrected, digging your hands into his hair, pulling him further into you.

Bucky sped up his movements, flicking and sucking at your clit as he started to feel you tighten around his fingers. "That's right, cum for me."

You nodded shakily, feeling your legs spasm as waves of pleasure washed over your body, Bucky making you cum.

Your body sunk back down to the couch. Bucky lifted his head, his chin and lips covered in your cum. "You thought we were done, huh doll?" "What?" You mumbled before Bucky stood, lifting you and flipping you onto your stomach, your chest resting on the arm of the couch as your back arched. You could hear him unbuckle his belt and pull down his boxers.

"Bucky we don't have a condom." You looked back, watching as he brought his hand down and tucked a piece of hair behind your ear. Bending down, Bucky kissed your lips softly, quickly grabbing your hair in a makeshift ponytail and entering you with one thrust.

You cried out in pleasure, feeling his thick cock stretch you out.

"I don't fucking care, doll." Bucky drove in and out of you with each word, bringing his flesh hand down on your ass with a painful spank as his metal hand squeezed your hip. "Fuck, such a good fucking girl."

You nodded, and Bucky pushed a hand down on your back as he brought his metal fingers around to your throat, cutting off your air supply. "You're my good girl, aren't you?" All you could do was moan, feeling lightheaded as the only sound in the room was Bucky's hips slamming into yours. Your body pummeled forward with every thrust.

"Tell me, tell me how you're my good girl." Bucky bit his lip, watching your body quiver in response. You tried to speak but couldn't, he knew you couldn't but still decided to taunt you.

"The only way I'm gonna let you cum is if you tell me, doll," Bucky smirked, pulling your body flush to his as he still continued to fuck you fast and hard.

He reached around your body, his metal fingers rubbing circular motions on your clit. Letting go of his grip a little on your neck, you groaned out, "I'm your good girl, please, Bucky, let me cum."

Bucky let out a low moan in your ear, "Such a good girl, cum for me again." He let you fall back onto the couch, "I'm not far behind you, honey."

With one brutal thrust and a pinch of your clit, you came for the second time. Bucky stilled inside of you, his cum painting your walls as he grunted and fell forward.

You felt your head drop to the arm of the couch as Bucky rubbed a hand up and down your back soothingly. With his right hand, he moved your head to look at you, "You doin' okay, doll?"

Nodding, you flipped on your back, Bucky hovering over you. "I'm okay. You okay, Buck?" He leaned down, kissing your lips softly as his thumb rubbed over your hip lightly. "Always when I'm with you. I love being friends."

-

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