Looking for more Bucky content? More events to challenge yourself creatively? Just a fun place to be? Welcome to Bucky Barnes Events, where we run events all year round and promote other Bucky-related events!
Bucky Barnes Events: Running & promoting events all year round!
We wanted a space dedicated to Bucky Barnes and all the wonderful events run by the fandom. Come hang out, have some fun, and join some events!
✨Please read our general RULES & FAQs.
✨Come join our DISCORD for announcements, hangouts and more
✨Read entries & post your works to our AO3 PARENT COLLECTION
✨Follow along with our scheduled events HERE. And, you can see BBE events (those run by us and those run by others) on our CALENDAR
Have an event that involves our dear murder muffin and don't see it on our page? Send us an ASK!
Schedule:
Prompting opens: May 22nd
Prompting closes/Fills open: June 5th (Aro Visibility Day)
Works due: July 2nd
Works revealed: July 3rd
Creators revealed: July 10th
AO3: AromanticBuckyBarnesFest2026
Fest rules and FAQ:
Fest rules:
Participants must be 18+
Creations must be new and complete.
Aromantic Bucky Barnes must be the focus of your creation/s.
Identity policing is not allowed. All kinds of Aro Buckys are welcome here, including experiences of aromanticism you may not relate to. This includes kinky aros, aplatonic aros, aros in relationships, loveless aros, and so on.
Rate and tag your creations accordingly.
No AI works.
Be respectful. Harassment and harmful behaviour won’t be tolerated.
Fest FAQ:
What is a prompt fest?
It’s a challenge where people share fanwork prompt ideas and creators fill them.
How does it work?
People leave prompts and then creators ‘claim’ the prompt they want to create for, and once they’ve finished their fanwork they post it anonymously to the AO3 collection. Later in the fest the submissions are revealed, and finally, the creators are revealed.
What kind of prompts can be submitted?
Anything with Aromantic Bucky Barnes as the focus.
How many prompts can I submit?
Up to 50!
What kind of fanworks can we create?
Basically, anything that can be posted to AO3. Fanfics, fanart (incl. moodboards/aesthetics, fake texts/social media), fanvids, gif sets, crafts, and so on. If you're unsure, please ask!
Are there minimums?
Fic: 50 words
Fanart: a doodle
Moodboards: 3 images
Other fanworks: a rough equivalent in your medium
There are no maximums.
How do I submit my creation/s?
You go to the Claims section of your AO3, press "fulfill" on the prompt you've claimed and post it to the AO3 Collection (AromanticBuckyBarnesFest2026). Once creators are revealed you can also post them to tumblr and tag @aromanticbuckybarnes.
We are pleased to announce the Team Cap 10 event, celebrating a decade since the release of Captain America: Civil War. The movie that brought us Team Cap will reach this milestone in the spring, so we wanted to mark the occasion with an anniversary event for our favorite characters.
Over the eleven-day event, we will be running themed days with a set of prompts to celebrate each member of Team Cap (Steve Rogers, Bucky Barnes, Clint Barton, Scott Lang, Wanda Maximoff, and Sam Wilson). All prompts are optional and can be interpreted however you wish, though we request that they are focused on CA:CW (whether canon or canon divergent), and prominently feature a member of Team Cap.
The event is open to all types of creations: fanfic, fanart, moodboards, gifsets, fic rec lists, playlists, etc. As this is designed to be a low-pressure event, there are no sign ups needed.
Please take a few moments to read our Rules & FAQs. The schedule for the event is as follows:
April 1: Full prompt lists are published
April 26: Start of event
May 6: End of event
May 9: Final event masterlist shared
This event is modded by @cable-knit-sweater, @voylitscope and @sparkagrace. If you have any questions, please feel free to send an ask to this tumblr or reach out to us at [email protected].
pairing: brother's best friend!bucky barnes x female reader
summary: you've spent the entire summer at a lake house with your family, and you've been unable to stop thinking about your brother's best friend, who's also staying with you. though he's insistent you can't touch each other, that doesn't stop you from doing other things. and then one thing leads to another and your relationship reaches a breaking point.
warnings: 18+ content (minors dni!!!), smut, light angst, secret relationship, mutual pining, mutual masturbation (m and f), dry humping, piv sex, unprotected sex, creampie, bit of breeding kink (including post-sex talk about having kids), dirty talk, light degradation, praise kink, pet names (baby), aftercare, fluff, happy ending
word count: 4.5k
a/n: for week 13 (the final week!) of @buckybarnesevents's Hot Bucky Summer event, i had the idea for some kind of forbidden relationship, and i had y'all vote for what exactly that relationship with Bucky would be. y'all chose brother's best friend, so here we are! i had fun with this one and i think it's the perfect ending to summer—specifically Hot Bucky Summer 🤭 hope y'all enjoy!! ♡
Your brother’s best friend, Bucky Barnes, was staring at you with lust burning in his crystal blue eyes, but hesitancy in his furrowed brows. His handsome face was twisted into a tortured expression of desire and shame as he voiced the words you’d already heard countless times that summer.
You wanted to take Bucky’s face in your hands, feel the rasp of his scruff on your palms, and kiss away the deep grooves that had dug between his brows, but you knew the rules. Well, rule—there was only one: No touching.
Your fingers curled in an effort to restrain yourself, your fingertips digging into the soft mounds of your breasts where you were groping them over the slightly damp fabric of your bathing suit. You were sitting in Bucky’s lap, the warmth of his body a teasing reminder of the game you two had started earlier in the summer.
“It’s fine, Buck,” you whispered, staring into your brother’s best friend’s tortured blue eyes, holding yourself still as if trying not to spook him. “We’re not touching,” you reminded him. “We’re not doing anything wrong.”
Bucky’s gaze flicked to the basement stairs that led up to the kitchen, his mouth screwing into a frown, and you knew what he was thinking. When Bucky had joined your family at the lake house where you spent your summers, your older brother had given him an explicit warning: Keep his hands off you.
But the moment you’d met Bucky, you’d felt an inexplicable pull to him. He was charming, with his easy smiles and his gently teasing words, and you hadn’t been able to resist the sparkling mischief in his eyes.
And you knew he felt the same pull because of the way he looked at you when he thought no one could see.
On more than one occasion, especially late at night after everyone had had a few beers or glasses of wine at dinner, you’d caught Bucky staring at you. There’d been a desire so exquisite in the depth of his eyes, it made your heart ache.
On one particularly muggy night in July, when the heat and humidity of the day clung to the air and made you feel nearly out of your mind with a need for relief, you’d finally approached him.
It was late, and everyone had been drinking since mid-afternoon. You’d finally gathered the courage you needed to do what you’d wanted to do for weeks.
Bucky had been sitting alone in the near pitch-black night on the back deck, his chair facing the lake as he listened to the soft lapping of the gentle waves. While everyone else made their way to bed, you stepped through the sliding glass door, shutting it behind you and glancing back inside to make sure everyone was out of sight.
You’d slipped into Bucky’s lap before you could talk yourself out of it, winding your arms around his neck and letting the words spill from your lips, “I want you.”
Gently, but firmly, Bucky had tugged your arms from around his neck, setting them at your sides as he said what would become a constant refrain between the two of you: “We shouldn’t.”
But Bucky hadn’t pushed you off his lap, and that, along with the alcohol swirling in your belly, made you bold.
Still, you’d been almost shy that first night when you’d groped your tits in front of him, and rubbed your clit teasingly over your clothes. But the longer he’d watched you, heat blazing bright in his blue eyes even in the dark of the night, your inhibitions fell away.
You’d sat in Bucky’s lap, spurred on by the way his pupils had blown wide and his chest had heaved with ragged breaths, and made yourself cum. He’d shuddered violently when you squirmed through your release, his eyes closing like he couldn’t take the sight of your pleasure anymore.
Bucky’s body had been tense, his hands curled into fists so tight, his knuckles were white. He’d still refused to touch you, but he looked nearly feral with desire, and you’d been unable to hold back a wicked smirk at the way you’d affected him.
He wanted you just as badly as you wanted him, of that you were sure.
When your release had ebbed, you’d placed a hand on his shoulder and brushed a kiss to his scruffy cheek. Then you’d hopped up and gone to bed, high on the power you held over your brother’s best friend.
That night, you’d assumed it was only a matter of time before Bucky snapped, gave in and touched you. But, although your stolen moments became more and more frequent—with you sitting in his lap, getting yourself off while he watched—he still stubbornly refused to touch you. .
After a few weeks, Bucky finally gave you a slight concession.
It had been late one night in early August, the heat still lingering even hours after sunset, and everyone had gone to bed, exhausted by the sun and the activities of the day. You and Bucky were on the deck again, swathed in darkness, but your eyes had adjusted enough to see the bulge in his gray sweatpants.
As you’d watched, transfixed, Bucky had reached into his pants and pulled out his cock. He was long and thick, with a slight curve that you ached to feel inside you. He’d taken himself in his fist, stroking the hard shaft, a low groan rumbling in his chest.
Your fingers had slipped against your slick folds, drool immediately gathering beneath your tongue with the urge to take Bucky’s perfect cock in your mouth. It had taken all your self-control not to do just that, holding yourself back and remembering the unspoken rule of your stolen moments.
Instead, you’d leaned back, pulling your panties to the side and giving Bucky a perfect view of your fingers playing with your pussy. You’d pumped them inside your dripping hole while he’d fucked his fist, both of your eyes fixed on each other.
You’d gotten yourselves off like that, in the dark of the summer night, not touching, but watching. The pleasure had been delicious, but left you with a twinge of dissatisfaction. You’d take anything you could get from Bucky, but you desperately wanted more.
You couldn’t get enough of Bucky Barnes, which was how you’d found yourself perched in his lap again, stealing a moment after an afternoon swimming in the cool water of the lake. You both still wore your bathing suits, the fabric damp and cool, lake water seeping into the plaid couch in the basement of your family’s house.
Everyone else was upstairs, napping after a long day in the sun or getting ready for dinner. Anyone could walk down the stairs to the basement and catch you and Bucky—anyone including your brother, Bucky’s best friend. While that made things hotter for you, it had concern creasing Bucky’s brow.
“We’re gonna get caught,” he muttered through gritted teeth. Despite his words, though, his hand was gripping his cock through his swimsuit, the stiff length jutting against the fabric and making your body warm with a familiar yearning ache.
“Then we better make it quick,” you whispered back, flashing Bucky a shameless grin as you slid one of your hands down your front and into your bathing suit bottoms. You were warm and slippery, your body already turned on by being so close to Bucky.
His eyes darkened as he watched your hand move between your thighs, but a second later, he was groaning, his head falling back against the couch. “Fuck, what are you doing to me?” His gaze was trained on the ceiling, and you missed the heat of his eyes immediately.
At his sudden change of mood, a sliver of unease slid down your spine, and you withdrew your fingers from your bathing suit. Your hands curled into fists, laying useless on your thighs.
“I’m not doing anything to you, remember?” you shot back, your tone sharper than you intended. Closing your eyes, you took a deep breath and tried to regain the playful tone that typically came easy when you were fooling around with Bucky. “That’s the rule, isn’t it?”
There was an edge of bitterness in your voice, and it must’ve been plain enough to catch Bucky’s attention because he lifted his head to give you a long, searching look. His face became even more tortured at whatever he saw in your expression.
“I can’t stop thinking about you,” he said, the words falling from his mouth in a rush, like he couldn’t contain the confession anymore. “I walk around this house, constantly half-hard, thinking about your eyes and your smile, and the way you go a little dazed when you sink your fingers into your pretty pussy.”
He paused only to swallow, his Adam’s apple bobbing tantalizingly in his throat while you sat still, your breath caught in your throat, too stunned by his admissions to form words. His blue eyes were bright and intense as he stared at you.
“All I can think about is you,” he rasped. “And how fucking good it would feel to push inside your snug little hole, to have your warm cunt wrapped around my cock. I want you so fucking bad, and I can’t…”
Bucky closed his eyes, overcome with emotion, and you felt for him, you really did. You wanted to wrap your arms around his shoulders and tuck his head against your chest. You wanted to rake your fingers through his hair and coo soothingly at him until he felt better.
But you knew the rule, so you kept your hands to yourself.
In a small, broken whisper, you told him, “I want you, too.” You paused when Bucky’s eyes opened, pinning you with the intensity of his stare. “Can’t we…?”
“You know we can’t,” Bucky said, cutting you off with a frustrated shake of his head. “You know your brother will kill me.”
That statement had you huffing an annoyed sigh and crossing your arms, glaring at Bucky—though he was momentarily distracted by the way your arms were pushing up your tits.
“I don’t know any such thing,” you snapped, sharp enough that Bucky’s gaze flicked to your face. He seemed taken aback at how angry you were. “We’re adults, Bucky, he doesn’t get a say in what we do.”
Bucky didn’t seem convinced by your perfectly rational argument, his eyes mournful as he looked at you. You could practically feel him pulling away, even if neither of you was moving.
So you decided to get right to the heart of things. You spoke with your gaze trained on his chest, unable to look him in the eye, knowing how much your words were going to devastate him.
“The whole point of my brother telling you to keep your hands off me was because he didn’t want you to hurt me,” you said in a small voice, your shoulders hunching as if your body was bracing for the fallout of your words once they landed. “But you’re already hurting me.”
You paused, almost unable to continue. But you knew he needed to hear this, so you kept talking.
“It hurts that you won’t let me touch you or do more than this,” you said, gesturing vaguely to the way you were sitting on his lap, a wide gap of space between your bodies so you had enough room to touch yourselves without touching each other. You closed your eyes and gathered yourself before delivering the final blow. “I like you, Bucky, I can’t help it, and the way you’re treating me hurts.”
“Baby,” Bucky rasped, his voice so desolate that you finally opened your eyes and looked at him. His face was even more handsome in the soft afternoon light filtering into the basement, and he looked even more tortured that you’d ever seen him before. “Baby, you’re killing me.”
He reached for you, but before his fingers could brush against your skin, he stopped. His hands curled into fists and you watched them fall to his lap. Useless.
“We can’t,” he repeated, his tone choked but firm. “We shouldn’t even be doing this.”
Hurt and anger swirled into a messy cyclone in your chest, eclipsing the way your heart was breaking for Bucky. Tears gathered in your lashes, but you swiped them away. “Then, I’m done,” you said, shaking your head. “I can’t do this anymore.”
You’d barely shifted your weight to one side, moving to get off Bucky’s lap, when his big hand landed on your hip. You froze.
There was so much of his bare, warm skin pressing against yours. You could feel the callouses on his palm, and the heavy weight of his hand. It was almost too much after going so long without his touch that you shivered, your eyes closing briefly at the pleasant sensation.
“Don’t—don’t go,” Bucky rasped, his eyes wide and terrified as they darted back and forth across your face. “I’m sorry, baby. I don’t want to hurt you, and I don’t want to let you go.”
“Then don’t, Buck,” you whispered, swaying into his chest. Your hands pressed against his pecs, your fingers digging into his warm, sun-kissed skin; you felt his big body shudder under your touch. “I’m yours, all you have to do is hold on to me.”
“Baby,” Bucky groaned, the pet name rough and delicious in his low voice. Then he was sliding his other hand around the side of your neck, cupping your cheek and drawing you in even closer until the heat of him was nearly overwhelming. “I like you, too, and I’ll hold on to you forever if you’ll let me.”
With that promise murmured against your lips, Bucky closed the remaining distance between your mouths and kissed you for the first time.
Fireworks popped and crackled behind your eyes, fizzling through your entire body as you sank into the kiss. Your heart raced in your chest, your mind barely able to understand that Bucky’s mouth was finally—finally—on yours, his lips moving as you tentatively explored each other.
When his tongue teased the seam of your lips, you opened for him, feeling him slip inside and invade your mouth, making you moan at the delicious decadence of it. He answered you with a low, gruff groan that you felt all the way from the top of your head down to the tips of your toes.
The hesitancy at the start burned away, and Bucky’s mouth became hot and hungry on yours. The kiss grew more and more frantic as your tongues tangled, your bodies clinging to each other. Your fingers sank into Bucky’s soft brown hair, and his arms wrapped around your waist, holding you on his lap while he devoured your mouth.
Your body moved on instinct, your thighs spreading wider so you could press closer. The change in position allowed your center to settle more fully on Bucky’s lap, the bulge of his cock digging into the soft mound of your pussy. Beneath your bathing suit, your folds spread for the hot, hard shaft of Bucky’s cock.
Experimentally, you rolled your hips, grinding your dripping wet slit down on the hard ridge of his length through your clothes. You moaned wantonly into his mouth, Bucky grunting as he swallowed the sound down greedily, nipping at your lips as if begging for more.
“Bucky,” you gasped when he pulled away to suck desperate kisses down your jaw and neck. Your fingers tangled tighter in his hair, using your grip as leverage while you rocked your hips, humping shamelessly against his cock as a pitiful whine tumbled from your lips. “Oh god, Buck, I’m already so close—I could cum on your cock just like this.”
He chuckled into the side of your throat, the sound so warmly affectionate and devastating, it sent a shiver down your spine and urged you to grind harder on his cock. That made his laughter dissolve into a groan, and his hands grabbed your hips, guiding your pussy to rub faster on his cock.
“Fuck, baby,” Bucky moaned, his breaths hot and heavy against your skin. “You feel so good, you’re gonna make me cum in my shorts.”
As soon as he said those words, you knew it was exactly what you wanted—you wanted to make him so feral that he couldn’t help but cum in his shorts.
A sly smirk curled your lips and you raked your nails through the hair at the nape of Bucky’s neck, delighting in the feeling of his big body giving another helpless shudder. Between your thighs, his cock twitched, and you slowed the roll of your hips, grinding harder on him but taking your time.
“Can you feel how hot my pussy is, Buck?” you teased, whispering in his ear before taking the lobe between your teeth and biting softly. “I’m sooo wet and empty—my little hole is begging for your big cock to fill me up.”
You had to bite back a giggle when you felt his hard length twitch again, like it was jumping at the chance to push inside your cunt and empty his seed inside you. Bucky grunted, but before he could say anything, you went on.
“Want you to slide inside me bare—want you to fuck me raw with your big, thick cock, and pump me full of cum. Want you to mark me as yours, only yours, all yours, Bucky.”
“Jesus fucking christ,” Bucky cursed, one of his hands sliding up your spine and wrapping around the back of your neck, towing you back far enough that he could catch your eye. “You’re a filthy girl, baby,” he said, his tone almost accusing, but his eyes sparkled like he loved it. “You want my cum—you wanna cum on my big cock like a little slut, baby?”
Before he’d even finished his question, you were nodding your head. All thoughts of making him cum in his shorts were forgotten once the idea of him cumming inside your pussy entered your mind.
You were biting back a wide, eager grin as you bobbed your head, but Bucky’s thumb swiped across your plush lower lip, tugging it free and letting your smile bloom across your face. His blue eyes softened with affection, his mouth curving into a grin of his own as he stared at you for a moment, lost in the look on your face.
Then Bucky was moving, reaching into his shorts and pulling out his cock while he slid his hand under your ass and guided you to lift up on your knees. Once you realized what he was doing, you curled two fingers in the fabric of your swimsuit between your thighs, pulling it to the side and lining up your entrance with the tip of Bucky’s cock.
“Ready, baby?” he asked, his gaze raking over your face like he was searching for any hint of hesitation. There was a slight furrow of concern between his brows and you reached up, smoothing it away as you smiled happily at him.
“I’ve been ready for this since the beginning of the summer, Buck,” you promised, settling your hands on his bare shoulders and gripping him tightly. You leaned in and pressed a kiss to the corner of his mouth, murmuring, “Now give me your cock, Bucky, please.”
Bucky let out a low growl, capturing your lips in a searing kiss, and a second later he gave you exactly what you asked for. His hips surged up, his hand on your hip pulling you down, and in one swift thrust, his cock was buried inside your body. Your kiss ended as you both broke away to moan your delight.
The stretch of him filling you up so suddenly sent bolts of pleasure streaking through your body, leaving you teetering on the edge of your release. When his hands fell to your hips and he guided you to rock on him, your clit rubbing against the base of his cock, you were done for.
“Bucky!” You came with a hushed cry of his name, remembering yourself at the last second as you plunged into the depths of your pleasure. Your entire body trembled in his arms, and Bucky held you tight, his mouth pressed against your ear, his scruffy cheek rasping over your skin as he spoke.
“That’s it, baby, cum on my cock like a good slut. Show me how good I make you feel,” he encouraged in a low rumbling voice right into your ear. “Fuck, you feel so fucking perfect,” he groaned, his hips shifting as you rocked against him. “Feels like you were made for me—fuck, baby, ‘m gonna cum.”
“Cum inside me, Buck,” you gasped against his neck, your tongue darting out to taste the salt and sun of his skin. “Please, Bucky, want your cum, want you to cum in my pussy, fill me up—please!”
Your babbling devolved into desperate moans when Bucky began thrusting up into you, bouncing your body on his cock as he chased his pleasure, grunting and groaning into your throat. Your fingers twisted in his hair and your mouth pressed to the side of his neck, licking and sucking on his skin as you reveled in the pleasure he offered.
“Fuck—baby, fuck!”
Bucky’s cursing was muffled against your skin, his body going taut for a second as he held you tight in his arms before he let loose a delicious, devastating groan when he came. His cock twitched inside you, pumping you full of rope after rope of his cum.
You pulled his head up, blindly finding his mouth and kissing him desperately. It was a hot, messy kiss, both your mouths clumsy as you moaned through your pleasure. Your bodies writhed against each other, wringing out every ounce of bliss from your releases together.
Finally, when you both were sated, you pressed your forehead to Bucky’s, feeling his warm breath against your kiss-swollen lips as you caught your breath. A slight smile curled the corners of your mouth, enjoying the closeness, and you wrapped your arms loosely around his shoulders, clinging to him.
Bucky’s hands splayed across your back, pressing you more tightly against his chest, and you were nearly dizzy with the heady feeling of so much of your skin against his. The two of you stayed like that for several long moments—until Bucky broke the silence.
“You’re on birth control, right?” he asked in between heaving breaths. He didn’t sound particularly concerned, and you let out a breathless laugh, pulling back enough to look him in the eyes.
“Yes, of course I’m on birth control,” you told him.
Bucky chuckled, leaning forward and stealing a quick kiss from your lips. But he wasn’t satisfied with just one, kissing you half a dozen times before he leaned back against the couch again, grinning at you.
“That’s good,” he said, his voice a low, lazy drawl. “Probably best if we tell your family about us before I knock you up.” His blue eyes sparkled as they watched your face, like he couldn’t wait to see how you’d react to that statement.
Your eyebrows winged up, and you tilted your head to the side as you stared at him, trying to pretend like you were affronted, but you couldn’t hide the way your pussy clenched around Bucky’s cock at the idea. In response, his hard length twitched inside you, and his hand squeezed your hip lightly.
“Oh?” you asked, continuing to pretend like you weren’t excited by the idea. “You planning to knock me up, Barnes?” you teased, purposefully clenching around his softening cock, managing to milk another drop of cum from his spent shaft.
Bucky’s blue eyes went heavy lidded and he chuckled affectionately, gathering you up in his arms and holding you against his chest. He kissed you sweetly, his mouth moving mesmerizingly against yours until you’d melted in his arms.
“When you’re ready, yeah,” he murmured, his tone warm and so affectionate it made your heart thump in your chest. “You want a couple rugrats, don’t you, baby?”
Your gaze found Bucky’s, and you saw he had that little furrow of concern between his brows. You reached up and kissed it away, just like you’d wanted to earlier, and smiled fondly at him.
“Yeah, I do,” you assured him, your smile turning sly. “But let’s give it a few years—I want to enjoy being with you, just the two of us, for a little while first.”
“You got it, baby,” Bucky said, kissing you again. His mouth lingered against yours. The two of you got momentarily lost in each other, in the heat of your mouths and the glide of your tongues.
When Bucky finally pulled away, he pressed his forehead to yours, the edges of his mouth curving in a smile.
“I plan to hold on to you forever,” he said. “So we’ve got all the time in the world—we’ve got all the time in forever.”
With a soft laugh, you nodded and pulled him in for another kiss. It felt like such an indulgence, after going so long without being allowed to touch him, and you didn’t know if you’d ever be able to stop. You certainly wouldn’t ever be able to take it for granted.
For a long, lazy while, the two of you lounged on the couch, enjoying the feel of your bodies joined together and kissing until you were breathless. The spell of your first time touching without restriction was broken only when you heard people moving around upstairs.
Instead of trying to sneak past the others, you and Bucky raced out of the basement through the back door that led down to the dock. You took a quick dip in the lake together to clean up a little, laughing and splashing each other until you finally hauled yourselves out of the water.
You walked back up to the house holding hands, and when you stepped through the sliding door of the deck, you announced your relationship to everyone gathered—which was pretty much your entire family.
To your and Bucky’s relief, your brother didn’t kill him.
He approached the two of you warily, pulling you aside to make sure you were happy and that Bucky didn’t hurt you. You told your brother that Bucky had been respectful, and that you’d been the one to pursue him.
With a nod, your brother seemed to accept this. He told you that if Bucky ever did hurt you, he wouldn’t hesitate to kill him. You laughed and shook your head at your brother’s threats, just happy he seemed to be respecting your newfound relationship with his best friend.
For the rest of the evening—and for the rest of the summer—you reveled in being able to touch Bucky any time you wanted. You held his hand all through dinner, sat beside him on the couch with his arm around your shoulders, and kissed him in the rare moments when no one was looking.
It was a wonderful end to the summer, and the best part was that you were going to go back to your lives and start building a new one together. You’d finally gotten your brother’s best friend, and you planned to hold on to Bucky Barnes forever.
thank you for reading!! comments and reblogs are always appreciated ♡
I'll be your disaster if you'll be mine - Chapter 4
AN: Wow! It’s the final week of @buckybarnesevents Hot Bucky Summer and I want to say a big thank you to the organisers for another cracking prompt list. This week is another free week, with optional M prompts and I’ve gone with Missions and Movies for this mostly fluffy instalment. Find last week’s instalment here.
Beta’d by @theeternalghost - biggest thanks to you, my dear!
Likes are loved, but reblogs are golden
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Master List | HBS Master list
Summary: Bucky punched the enemy directly in front of him and then whirled around, lifting his pistol, ready to shoot the next death minion from a hell dimension, when a purple fletched arrow bloomed from its chest.
“That’s twenty-eight,” he heard Clint mutter over the comms.
He rolled his eyes at his boyfriend’s competitive nature. “Thanks, baby,” he said back, only to immediately hear a snort of disgust from his loudest team mate.
“Just reminding you that this is a full team comm channel, Buckminster. If you wanna be schmoopy, switch over to your private one.”
Relationship: Bucky Barnes x Clint Barton
Word Count: 1.8k
CW: Crack, Humour, Banter, Doofuses, Disaster Gays, background Stony, Background SamNat, Monster of the week, Movie references, Domestic Avengers, Disabled Clint Barton, Disabled Bucky Barnes, deaf jokes, Lucky the Pizza dog, Alpine the Kitten, Pet parents Bucky and Clint, Natasha Romanoff knows everything.
Bucky punched the enemy directly in front of him and then whirled around, lifting his pistol, ready to shoot the next death minion from a hell dimension, when a purple fletched arrow bloomed from its chest.
“That’s twenty-eight,” he heard Clint mutter over the comms.
He rolled his eyes at his boyfriend’s competitive nature. “Thanks, baby,” he said back, only to immediately hear a snort of disgust from his loudest team mate.
“Just reminding you that this is a full team comm channel, Buckminster. If you wanna be schmoopy, switch over to your private one.”
“Do I complain about the number of times you mention Steve’s butt, Stark?” he retorted, but without any real bite.
Tony sniffed. “That’s different. I think we can all objectively agree that Steve has a fantastic ass.”
Barely holding back his own chuckle, Bucky could almost hear Steve’s blush over the background static.
“Could we get back to the mission? You know, the–” Steve broke off talking for a moment and Bucky could hear the whoosh and clang of the shield in the background “–bad guys!”
Bucky allowed himself a moment of amusement at Steve’s discomfort, before unloading a full clip into the next oncoming minion. They had far too many limbs for his liking i.e. more than four. They also had mandibles. They were in fact, giant fucking bugs and like any colony there were hundreds of them. It already felt like they’d been trying to turn the tide for hours, although it had probably only been twenty minutes or so. Strange and Wong were over by the rift they’d burst through, trying to find a way to close it. Personally Bucky thought they should take a line from Tony’s playbook and fly a nuke into it, but apparently they thought they’d try some of their mystic mumbo jumbo.
So of course, it then had to get worse. Whatever they’d just done back-fired. The rippling hole in reality got bigger, which meant more bug men came running through.
“Well, fuck,” Clint exclaimed and for once no one disagreed.
With a scream of resignation, Bucky charged forward, fists flying. In his peripheral vision, he could see Steve, Thor, and Hulk doing exactly the same. Nat was running as well; however, she’d chosen to do less punching and more shooting and electrocutions. The creatures made a satisfying, but gross pop when her Widow’s Bites hit them. In the sky above their heads, Tony, Rhodey, and Sam swooped and soared, repulsors and guns blazing. Every so often, Sam would fly close to the ground for a few seconds, the wings of his suit slicing any bugs in his path in half. Bucky had to admit it was quite impressive, not that he’d ever admit that to the man out loud. He had an image to uphold.
In the midst of the chaos, Clint loosed arrows from his perch on top of the quin-jet. Some in singles and some in multiples, keeping the enemy guessing. Normal arrows, exploding arrows, arrows that shot out nets and gas. He was going the whole hog. Bucky could see the evidence of his lover’s efforts scattered over the field of battle, as well as hear his running commentary on the number that he’d felled.
It was carnage everywhere.
Thank goodness these creatures had decided to come through in the middle of bum-fuck Minnesota and not the middle of, say Chicago, or DC, or even Philadelphia. At least the team didn’t need to worry about civilian casualties. Local law enforcement, backed up by some SHEILD agents, were keeping a perimeter, and so far the Avengers were keeping the aliens well within it.
Then, having somehow gotten past the two wizards – sorcerers – magic men – a great lumbering creature, more than twice the height and breadth of the rest of its kin, started to bear down on Nat. Those on the ground all noticed at once and both Bucky and Steve started to sprint towards her. However, when they were still twenty feet away and both probably thinking they couldn’t get there in time, a multitude of arrows sprouted from all over its buggy body, sending it crashing to the ground
“Don’t worry, guys,” came Clint’s chipper voice. “I got this.”
“That still only counts as one,” Bucky grumbled.
“Whatever you say, Gimli.”
And then all the bugs exploded.
A few hours later and back at the tower, they were all gathering for their traditional post-mission movie night. This had been a tough one, with even Nat coming back with a few scrapes and bruises, not to mention how long it had taken to wash bug guts out of hair once they’d gotten back
Most of the team were already in the common room when Bucky and Clint appeared. Their entrance was a lot less noisy than usual, but as they walked through the door, their fingers moved at high speed. Despite not having been in the thick of the battle, Clint was sporting several band-aids on his face, the result of his inelegant dismount from the top of the quin-jet racing to check on Bucky. His purple hearing aids were noticeably absent. Bucky was wearing what looked like one of Clint’s sweatshirts, a faded purple, with the left sleeve pinned up out of the way.
The pair flopped down onto one of the sofas, continuing their almost silent conversation and Nat sidled over, taking a seat on the arm next to Bucky. She smiled and made the odd comment in ASL until she let out a loud snigger.
“What’s tickled you, Rushman?” Tony asked as he swaggered past, mocktail in hand.
“It’ll be better if Bucky tells you,” she replied, her eyes alight with mischief.
“Really,” Tony drawled and Bucky rolled his eyes, but by that point Steve, Sam, Thor, and Bruce had all gathered round, ready for the story. A heavy sigh fell from his lips.
“Barton here is adamant that because he’s deaf and an ASL user, that a hand job also counts as oral.” As he spoke, his fingers moved. Clint just waggled his eyebrows.
At the end of the explanation Tony and Sam burst out laughing, while Steve and Bruce went beet red. Thor’s eyebrows drew together in confusion for several seconds until he too started laughing. “I get it,” he exclaimed. “Because you talk with your hands. Very amusing, my archer friend.” He patted Clint hard on the shoulder, almost oblivious to how he winced.
“So,” said Tony, once he’d recovered from his laughing fit, “we’re watching this with the subtitles on, yes?” Nat signed along as he spoke and Clint replied in the affirmative.
“He’s just feeling a bit worn out and his ears ache from the aids. Also, apparently, it means he can block you and Steve out when you are being gross more easily.”
A cat-like smile graced her face and when Tony scowled, Clint waggled his eyebrows again, earning him a follow-up eye roll and a pair of hands thrown in the air in exaggerated despair.
With the whole team now gathered, they set about their usual preparations. Tony and Bruce were on snack duty, Sam and Thor began shifting the couches into the optimum position for comfortable viewing, leaving Nat and Clint to have an apparently heated discussion about which movie to pick.
While all of this was going on, Steve sidled up to Bucky. “You okay, pal? Feeling a bit sore after all that?
Bucky dragged his gaze away from his boyfriend “What? Hmm?” He lifted his right hand up to rub the top of his left shoulder, his skin tight over metal plates that helped to reinforce his spine. “Yeah, I’m fine. We can’t all heal as fast as you, punk.” He bumped his hip against Steve’s with a smile. “I might be all serumed up, but it’s still knock-off. And carrying that arm around, well, sometimes I just need a night off from it.”
“I can understand that. But overall you’re good?” There was a caring note to his enquiry and Bucky felt a wave of love for his best friend.
“You know me, Stevie – mustn't grumble.”
Steve snorted. “You’re the most grumpy and grumbly person I know. The day you stop griping about something is the day I worry you’ve been replaced by a Skrull.”
“Says Mr. Constantly Angry at the State of the World,” Bucky retorted with a chuckle. Steve just shrugged in acknowledgement.
“But you’re happy?”
Bucky didn’t even try to hide that his eyes flicked back over to Clint, who appeared to be insulting Nat’s unknown father regarding her suggestion of some French arthouse film. “Yeah, I’m happy. We might own more band-aids than anyone else, and go through more coffee pots than is sensible, but I don’t think I’d want to change a thing.”
Steve smiled and pulled Bucky into a hug, which he happily returned, before they went and sat down with the others for the umpteenth watch of Raiders of the Lost Ark. Due to them all being so tired, they mostly watched in silence; however, just as the U-boat intercepted the steamer to London, a clattering noise from the corridor caught all their attention.
They all watched, in differing levels of confusion as a one-eyed golden retriever jogged through, a purple cap on its head and the strap of one of Clint’s quivers caught around one of his feet. In the dog’s wake, a small, white, fluffy kitten followed, jumping after the wagging tail wafting in front of its nose.
Bucky let out a chuckle and untangled himself from Clint’s octopus arms to scoop the kitten up off the floor. It let out an indignant noise at its fun being cut short and then used its tiny claws to scale Bucky’s front and sit on his shoulder. As this was happening, Clint called the dog over with a whistle and fed it slices of pepperoni off his pizza, distracting it so he could untangle his quiver.
“Umm, excuse me? Tweedle-dee and Tweedle-dum?” Tony was waving his arms around to catch Clint’s attention. What he hadn’t anticipated was that doing that while holding his hamburger would also catch the attention of the dog. The lumbering animal barked and then leapt towards the treat it thought was on offer. Tony dropped his snack with a squeal and launched himself onto Steve’s lap. “Steve! It’s going to drool on me!”
Everyone else started laughing.
Clint quickly recalled the dog, and it sat at his feet, licking its mouth to remove the residue of ketchup. Bucky came back over and pushed his way back onto the sofa, the kitten moving itself to investigate the cushions.
“So,” said Bucky. “Everyone meet Lucky and Alpine.” He gestured at the animals in turn and he signed his speech.
“When did they appear?” Tony enquired with high-pitched incredulity.
Clint let out a cackle and started to sign swiftly, Bucky translating a beat later. “You really need to be more observant, Stark. We brought them home from bug-geddon.”
Tony started to turn puce, spluttering, and over in the corner Sam slipped Nat some bills with a resigned eyeroll.
“They’re our babies,” Bucky cooed, before pulling the kitten back into his lap. “Anyway – should we rewind the film? We’ve missed the bit where they open the Ark.”
Tag list: @km-ffluv, @wheezy-stucky, @kmc1989, @kombatfather1796
An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works
Chapters: 1/1
Fandom: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Relationships: James “Bucky” Barnes/Clint Barton
Characters: Clint Barton, James “Bucky” Barnes
Additional Tags: Established Relationship, Were-Creatures, Werewolf Bucky Barnes, Dreams, Human Clint Barton, Human Disaster Clint Barton, Werewolf Sex, Monsterfucking | Teratophilia, Anal Sex, Oral Sex, Human-Werewolf Interactions
Summary: Clint knew he was kinky, but it wasn’t until he started dating a werewolf that his subconscious really cut loose. Thankfully, Bucky’s on board with making Clint’s dream come true.
This is my contribution to @buckybarnesevents‘ Hot Bucky Summer Week 12: | using the prompts “You can’t be real.” | [Monsterfucking | Dreaming/Daydreaming]. And yes, I’ve taken another item (possibly more) off my dwindling Never Have I Ever writing list with this one!
I'll be your disaster if you'll be mine - Chapter 3
AN: Week 12 of Hot Bucky Summer by @buckybarnesevents already! Can you believe it? More WinterHawk PWP with the prompt ‘You can’t be real'. Find last week’s instalment here.
Beta’d by @theeternalghost
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Master List | HBS Master list
Summary: “Hello sailor,” Bucky drawled, tipping his head up to brush silvered lips over Clint’s.
Feeling hypnotised, Clint murmured “You can’t be real.” Somewhere off to the side Sam bit back a belly laugh.
Bucky smiled, and Clint felt his knees going weak. “Ready to be lured to your death?”
“Uh-huh. Gonna die happy.”
Relationship: Bucky Barnes x Clint Barton
Word Count: 2.7k
CW: Crack, Humour, Banter, Doofuses, Disaster Gays, background Stony, Background SamNat, Costumes, Smut (Top Clint, Bottom Bucky, Ass Eating, Wet and Messy, Semi- Public Sex, Blow Job, Face Fucking)
Another day, another Tony Stark Costume Charity Gala. The bold and the beautiful of New York’s elite were in attendance at the tower and for the Avengers, an appearance, however brief, was mandatory.
No one was surprised to see Nat and Sam dressed as a Devil and an Angel. Nat’s outfit, other than the addition of horns and a tail, looked very much like her normal tac outfit, except in red. Either way, Sam – in a skimpy outfit consisting of white booty shorts and a matching harness holding a pair of feathered wings – didn’t seem to mind. If his hands weren’t roving over her body, then his eyes were. She seemed equally taken with his costume, given the fact that it left most of his toned body on display.
Steve was standing near a wall, looking as though he hoped it would open up and swallow him, because somehow, his outfit had even less to it than Sam’s. His facial expression was that of someone who agreed to a costume without fully understanding what he was actually signing up to. The only saving grace appeared to be when a black lace lingerie-clad Tony tottered past him in stilettos. He was, though, having to employ all of his brain power to avoid an embarrassing tent in the front of the gold hot pants he was wearing. What they had to do with a boxing film, he wasn’t sure – this was probably another cultural moment that he hadn’t caught up on yet – but they definitely left nothing to the imagination.
In contrast, Bruce seemed to be fairly happy with his costume of a mad professor, although Tony had already griped that he probably forgot all about it and just grabbed a random lab coat and waxed up his hair. It also seemed that Thor hadn’t really grasped the concept and was just wearing his full armour, happily posing for selfies with the other guests.
Clint, meanwhile, was leaning on the bar, his eyes flicking between the clock, the main doors, and back again. He was dressed as a pirate, complete with a purple bandana around his head.
Nat slid over and climbed up on one of the barstools, motioning to the bar tender for a drink before turning to her best friend. “Relax. He’ll be here soon. It’s not like he’s run away or something.
“Shh,” Clint hissed, “don’t jinx it.” His left had started to fidget with the single hooped earring he wore. “I just hope he likes my outfit. He told me to be a pirate, but I’m not even sure what he’s wearing. Maybe he’s going to be a shark. Or a parrot.”
One of her enigmatic smiles passed over Nat’s face as her eyes flicked behind him for a moment. “None of those, Barton. Look…” She lifted the hand holding her shotglass of vodka and extended her index finger, pointing towards the doors.
Clint turned. And stared. His eyes went wide and his jaw fell open. He vaguely heard Nat chuckle as she pressed one of her fingers under his chin and closed his mouth before she sashayed away, but really, he wasn’t paying that much attention.
Because Bucky.
Bucky who was wearing… well, something.
Clint supposed that technically, it was a skirt. Silver metallic, scale-like fabric hugged his hips and legs down to his knees where it flared out into a gauzy and voluminous bottom in shimmering black and red. The waist band was also low.
Really low.
Bucky’s sinful cum-gutters and happy trail are on display and Clint. Couldn’t. Think.
Adding to the look, his skin shimmered silver, patches of it painted to look like red-black scales. Over his ears were little covers that made Bucky look more mythical, on his neck were fake gills and on his arms were fins. Over his left shoulder and pec was a piece of armour that looked like it could have belonged to Poseidon, tangled in his hair was a crown made out of shells and net and he carried a silver trident in his left hand.
How Clint hadn’t dropped to his knees he didn’t know, because Bucky looks like a god of old ready to be worshiped. Fuck, he had a semi making itself known in his pants.
“Hello sailor,” Bucky drawled, tipping his head up to brush silvered lips over Clint’s.
Feeling hypnotised, Clint murmured, “You can’t be real.” Somewhere off to the side, Sam bit back a belly laugh.
Bucky smiled, and Clint felt his knees going weak. “Ready to be lured to your death?”
“Uh-huh. Gonna die happy.”
The spell was broken by the approach of Steve and Tony. Steve raised his eyebrows as he took in his friend’s outfit. “Woah, Buck! Looking good, pal.”
Tony nodded in agreement, his lips twisted up wryly. “I hate to say it, Buckeroo, but I think you rival even me. I don’t know whether to be impressed or annoyed. I’m used to being the belle of the ball.”
Bucky just smiled coyly in return. “Well, you only have yourself to blame, Stark. I enlisted JARVIS’s help so, technically, you helped.”
Tony pouted and wiggled his way under Steve’s arm with a “hhmph”.
“Anyway, Bucky continued, “I have a sailor I need to lure to his doom, so if you’ll excuse us…” He pushed his trident into Steve’s hand and then wiggled off toward the dancefloor, towing a lust-addled Clint in his wake.
Steve ducked his head down to Tony’s ear. “Tenty bucks says they’re going to end up fucking somewhere they shouldn’t before the night is over.”
Tony let out an inelegant snort. “The only bet I’m taking, sweetheart, is on how soon. I’ve got JARVIS on standby to reroute guests away from things they’d rather not know about. I’m betting fifteen minutes, but you’d best go find Sam and Nat, and take their guesses.”
Out on the dancefloor, Bucky had his back pressed to Clint’s front, grinding back on him in the most filthy manner. Clint’s hands were on Bucky’s hips, petting over the fabric of his costume, his eyes still wide, and a goofy look on his face.
Bucky tipped his head back onto Clint’s shoulder to talk into his ear. “You sure you’re alright, baby?” he queried.
Clint shook his head a bit, as though clearing off the stupor. “Yeah. I’m umm fine. It’s just….”
“Just what?” Bucky purred as he ground back even harder. Clint realised there was no way he was hiding how aroused he was. His cock had absolutely passed the ‘semi’ stage.
“You – umm – ever not realise that something’s a fantasy until you see it, and then your brain can’t stop imagining it?”
Bucky turned and wrapped his arms around Clint’s neck. Under the flashing lights, Clint could see the fake gills moving as Bucky swallowed, and wondered why he found that so hot?
“You’re cute when you’re flustered. And is that some pieces of eight in your pocket or are you just pleased to see me?”
Clint’s eyebrows pinched together in confusion. “Pieces of –? Bucky, that doesn’t even make sense.”
“And? You don’t make sense. Heck, I don’t make sense. But here we are anyway.” The fingers of Bucky’s right hand toyed with Clint’s earring, which for some reason seemed to have a direct line to his dick.
“Umm. Yes. He we are, indeed.” His tongue felt thick and dry in his mouth, so it was lucky that at that moment Bucky decided to kiss him, slow and deep.
A moan rose unbidden from Clint’s throat. Kissing Bucky was always one of the best things ever, but this time there was an unusual taste to the kiss, something both salty and sweet, and with the urgency and elegance of someone swimming up through treacle, he managed to pull back and ask roughly what it was.
“Saltwater taffy,” Bucky murmured before pulling him back in and Clint thought that he fell in love with Bucky a bit more.
“Great… detail…” he managed to mumble out between kisses.
“All for you, baby.”
They were fully making out in the middle of the dance floor, the bass thumping and the lights flashing as other people danced and mingled around them. However, for Clint there was no-one else in the room but Bucky. A need settled over him, one that was more than physical. More than spiritual.
It was existential, as he’d cease to exist without Bucky.
“I need you,” he breathed into the kiss, totally unashamed. How could he be ashamed of requiring Bucky as much as he required air?
“Yeah?” Clint could feel the smile on Bucky’s lips as they continued to tease over his own.
“So much.”
“Wanna get out of here?” Bucky’s hands scratched over the short hair on the back of Clint’s neck where it poked out from under his bandana.
“Again, so much,” Clint grinned.
Bucky broke the kiss and finally stepped away, but once again was holding Clint’s hand. He walked backwards and crooked the index finger on his left hand while biting his lower lip. Under the shifting light, Clint could see that hIs silver lipstick was smeared. He thought that Bucky had never looked so beautiful.
“Come this way then, my pirate king.”
As he followed Bucky across the ballroom and out of the main door, Clint felt like one of those sailors of old, following the siren’s song to wherever it led, heedless of danger.
Watching them leave, Sam leant across to Tony, his wings catching on the pearl necklace around Tony’s throat. “Twenty five minutes, I think I win. Pay up, Stark.”
Bucky was giggling as he dragged Clint down the hall. Every time he stopped to see if a side door opened into somewhere suitable he also cupped Clint’s face and kissed him senseless, until finally – finally – they found an unlocked door that opened into a small lounge. Sure, they could have just taken the elevator back to one of their rooms, but that would have taken time. Also, where would the fun have been in that?
Walking backwards into the room, Bucky collapsed down onto a chaise lounge, pulling Clint on top of him, their mouths meeting once more.
“You’re fucking perfect, you know that, Buck?”
“I’m a fucking disaster, is what I am,” Bucky replied with a chuckle.
He kissed and groped at Bucky, uncaring of how the glittering and shimmering makeup was ending up all over him. Sliding his hands down to Bucky’s hips, he tugged and pulled at the skirt, but it wasn’t budging.
“How the fuck do I get you out of this?” he asked, with no small amount of frustration.
Bucky giggled, a sound that rang like a bell in Clint’s heart, and gave Clint a shove so that he ended up on his ass on the floor. Then, standing up, Bucky reached behind himself and lowered the zipper, allowing the fabric to pool on the floor around his ankles. On his feet, previously hidden by the tail of the outfit, were what could only be described as flat ballet style pumps. However, what was really taking most of Clint’s attention was the thong Bucky was wearing, made of the same material as the skirt.
“That’s another great detail,” Clint pronounced with reverence, watching Bucky smile back before he turned himself around and clutched the back of the chaise, arching his back to show off his ass. Within seconds, Clint was back off the floor, resting on his knees so he could bury his face in his boyfriend’s plump buttocks.
“Yes,” Bucky hissed out as Clint nosed between his cheeks, his own large, calloused hands taking handfuls of flesh and just squeezing and groping. He nudged the string of the thong to the side and pressed his tongue to Bucky’s hole, licking and slurping. “Fuck baby, get me all messy and loose for you.”
Clint didn’t need to be asked twice, worming his tongue into the ring of muscle and sucking on the rim of it. All he could smell and taste was Bucky and he was immediately lost in it. He couldn’t help but release himself from his pants and start to stroke.
“More, sweetheart,” Bucky entreated and Clint slid one of his thick fingers in beside his tongue. Bucky ground onto his face and Clint’s eyes rolled back in his head. It didn’t stop him from adding a second finger though. However, despite how much he was enjoying himself, Clint knew that saliva alone wasn’t going to cut it, and having learnt from Bucky, when he reluctantly pulled back after a few minutes of rampant ass eating, he grabbed a lube sachet from his boot with this free hand. Ripping it open with his teeth, he squeezed half out over Bucky’s hungry hole and worked it in with his fingers, before pouring the rest over his hard and equally eager cock and immediately pushing in.
Bucky tossed his head back with a pleasured cry. “Oh fuck, god. Fuck me, baby. Fuck me hard.”
Clint gripped Bucky’s hips and started to piston in. “God, Buck, I love you so much.”
“I love you too, baby,” Bucky gasped. He let go of the chaise with his right hand and reached back to grip Clint’s hip, keeping hold of him as they fucked.
“So fucking beautiful. Don’t know how I got so lucky,” Clint babbled, swept away on a tide of lust as well as love. Bucky was hot and tight around his cock and with his brain being as scrambled as it was, it didn’t take him long to near his peak.
With a groan he spilled into Bucky, hips still moving as he wrung out the last drop of his orgasm. With legs like jelly, he pulled out of that clutching heat and dropped to his knees. He could see his cum trickling down the back of Bucky’s thigh and his spent cock twitched as it softened, his enthusiasm greater than his energy. If only he was twenty years younger. Or had supersoldier refractory powers. However, what he did have was a mouth that many people told him never quit. He wasn’t going to prove them wrong now.
“C’mere baby.” He lifted up his arms and made grabby hands towards Bucky, who was looking back at him over his own shoulder, eyes still blown wide with lust. Then, turning around, Bucky pinned Clint with his unwavering gaze and he shimmied out of his thong. Taking hold of himself, he stood right in front of Clint’s face, precum dribbling from the slit and rolling down the shaft, and Clint leant forward to catch it before it dripped on the floor. He couldn’t waste a single precious drop.
He ran his tongue up and down Bucky’s length, getting it as sloppy as Bucky’s hole had been. In response, Bucky gripped his short hair, and as soon as Clint’s lips sealed over the head of his cock, Bucky thrust in, straight to the back of Clint’s mouth.
“The mouth on you, fuck,” Bucky shuddered out.
Steadying himself on Bucky’s meaty thighs, Clint relaxed his throat, oh so ready to have it fucked. He didn’t care that he was having difficulty breathing or that tears were prickling his eyes. All there was, was Bucky.
With all the build up, plus the fucking, it wasn’t long until Bucky came with a shout, his body trembling as he pulsed and spilled down Clint’s throat. When he pulled back, allowing oxygen to return to Clint’s lungs, a string of mixed cum and saliva stretched between Clint’s lips and Bucky’s still hard cock.
With Clint still breathing hard, Bucky picked his thong up from the floor and stepped back into it, tucking himself back in. Clint couldn’t disguise his whimper of disappointment. Bucky smiled and knelt down, kissing Clint softly and tucking his cock back inside his pants.
“Let’s really get out of here, sailor,” he said, giving Clint’s crotch a squeeze. “You’re going to want the comfort of a bed for what I want to do to you next.” Then, humming to himself, Bucky wiggled his way back into his ‘tail’ and dragged a very dishevelled – but happy – Clint out of the room and towards the elevators.
“Best costume ever,” Clint murmured to himself.
Tag list: @km-ffluv, @wheezy-stucky, @kmc1989, @kombatfather1796
pairings: werewolf!CEO!Bucky Barnes x human!assistant!female reader
summary: feeling unfulfilled by your job, you sign up to become a member of the Pleasure Portal network, which allows you to have sex with monsters around the world for money. then, when you connect with an anonymous monster on a boring summer day at the office, it leads to an afternoon delight—and something more.
warnings: 18+ content (minors dni!!!), smut, unspecified age gap, monsterfucking and teratophilia, werewolf/human sex, knotting, sex work/reader becomes a sex worker, portal sex, piv sex, very rough sex, unprotected sex, anonymous sex, multiple creampies, come inflation, cockwarming, orgasm control/delay, multiple orgasms, big cock, size kink, free use, some objectification, dirty talk, sexting, praise kink, light verbal degradation, bdsm undertones, sir kink, pet names (sweetling, sweet girl), aftercare, feelings
word count: 10.2k
a/n: for week 12 of @buckybarnesevents's Hot Bucky Summer event, i had a pretty good idea of the premise for this fic (and it's based loosely on this post) but i had y'all vote to help decide some of the specifics, like Bucky being a werewolf. since the other two options were so close, i worked them both in 🤭 this ended up being way longer than i expected, but i'm really excited about this particular magical universe, and i hope y'all love it as much as i do!! please enjoy some werewolf CEO Bucky!!! ♡
prompt: "You can’t be real." | [Fantasy Character | Monsterfucking | Dreaming/Daydreaming]
Hot Bucky Summer 2025 masterlist
You didn’t need the money. Not really.
All your bills were easily covered by your job. You worked 60 hours a week as the senior executive assistant to Bucky Barnes, who, in his early 40s, was the first werewolf to ever become CEO of a Fortune 500 company.
The role paid well enough that you’d been able to buy your dream apartment in Park Slope, Brooklyn, and still have money leftover for savings and fun things like vacations and going out to brunch.
So you really didn’t need any extra money from a side hustle, because your career was plenty lucrative. But, frankly, your job as Bucky Barnes’ senior EA was boring.
Over the course of your career, you’d worked hard to rise up the ranks of assistants, taking on new roles at different companies until you’d made it to the top of the ladder. But you found yourself in the odd position of having nowhere else to go, and little to do.
As Mr. Barnes’ senior EA, your job was to oversee the rest of the CEO’s assistants. At any given time, he had half a dozen, all of whom managed his schedule, fetched his dry-cleaning, and did everything else the busy werewolf didn’t have time to do.
However, after the brief transition period when you first stepped into your role and made some changes so that the fleet of assistants ran more efficiently, and everything was delegated to the others, there was little left for you to do.
All that was expected of you was to sit at your desk in the sparsely decorated antechamber outside Mr. Barnes’ office, with its towering, thick wooden doors that were often closed, leaving you entirely alone. Occasionally, you’d have to greet any visitors who’d arrive for an in-person meeting, but that was rare.
Most days, no one came to Mr. Barnes’ office, since the werewolf preferred virtual meetings and phone calls to in-person sit-downs. So you spent long, arduous days alone at your desk while your boss worked and the fleet of assistants scurried around doing his bidding, which was relayed through you.
It left you with a lot of free time—free time that you spent trying to keep busy, and trying not to daydream about your handsome werewolf boss.
It had been against your better judgement that your foolish heart had caught feelings for Bucky Barnes, but it turned out you had a soft spot for werewolves with icy blue eyes, sharp canine teeth, and expensive suits. It didn’t help that he had a dry sense of humor and a brusque, no-nonsense way of conducting business that you respected.
Still, you maintained a professional demeanor at work, not allowing your feelings for your boss to show when you greeted him in the morning or spoke to him about his schedule. But if you were honest with yourself, your little crush on the werewolf was the reason you didn’t look for another job.
You’d fallen into a routine of monotony, broken up only by the brief, thrilling moments when you interacted with Bucky Barnes. You didn’t even realize you were looking for something to escape the vicious circle your life had become until it was right in front of your face.
It was on one particularly dreary afternoon when you took the first step down a path that would change everything.
Cold rain lashed against the floor-to-ceiling windows of the antechamber outside Mr. Barnes’ office, obscuring the view of New York City’s Central Park that lay at the feet of the company’s high-rise in Manhattan. You felt like a princess trapped in a tower, held above and apart from the rest of the world, bitterly alone.
To remind yourself that you weren’t the last person in the world, living among the gray clouds, you found yourself scrolling through your social media feed, eagerly watching the little windows into other peoples’ lives.
It was then that you came across a video from a woman who made her living as a “spicy accountant.” Unlike some of the others you’d seen on the app, though, she made her money through something called Pleasure Portal.
You watched in rapt attention as the woman in the video explained what it was—a network created by the company’s warlock CEO using proprietary portal technology that connected those with willing holes with clients willing to pay to use those holes, even if they were entire continents apart.
According to the woman, all transactions were completely anonymous and conducted through the app, though there were options for leaving tips and favorable reviews. To ensure everyone’s safety, there was an application process that included health and background checks verified by the Pleasure Portal company.
And the best part, at least to you, was that it was open to everyone—human and monsters alike.
That had been the most enticing selling point for you, because even if you didn’t need the money, Pleasure Portal offered a safe and anonymous way for you to explore what it would be like to be with a monster, something you’d only ever fantasized about before.
Although you’d developed a crush on him, Bucky Barnes wasn’t the first monster you’d daydreamed about.
Over the years, you’d wondered endlessly about what it would feel like to be split open by a minotaur, to be put under a lust spell by a warlock, to be tied so intimately by a werewolf’s knot…
You’d been breathless with excitement as you applied to be part of the Pleasure Portal network right then, on that dreary afternoon. You kept oscillating between feeling like it was a dream, too good to be true, and giddy excitement as you filed your paperwork, and gave proof that you tested negative for STIs and were on birth control.
It took surprisingly little time to be approved, the app on your phone unlocking your profile while you were sent the portal device.
As soon as you got the notification that the package had been delivered, in the middle of the afternoon on a hot, summer day, you left your desk, giving Mr. Barnes a ridiculous excuse about needing to go home early to feed your neighbor’s cat.
Once at you made it back to your apartment in Park Slope, you tore into the box with as much care as you could muster, your eyes widening and lips parting with wonder when you finally got your hands on the portal device.
It was as small as a matchbook and, according to the instructions, should be affixed to your skin above, below or beside the hole you wished to connect to the network. The magic in the device could then be activated only from your app, which required face ID, and it could be shut off using the app or by voicing the safe word you registered with the service.
The app was how you connected with potential Pleasure Patrons, filling out your profile with interests and limits, and setting yourself as available whenever you were open to clients. Anyone looking to use your services as a Pleasure Pocket could send a request, and you had the option to approve or deny based on their profile, which revealed their first name, age and species, and how much money they were offering.
Although you were almost too excited to read through all the instructions on the portal device and fill out your profile, you forced yourself to pay attention and get through it as quickly and methodically as possible so you could finally get started.
It wasn’t long before you were attaching the device to your mound, just above your pussy, and setting yourself as available on the app. Your profile specified that you were particularly open to monsters—and you were delighted to discover they were all too eager to use your services.
From that night on, you became an active Pleasure Pocket on the Pleasure Portal network.
At first, you consigned yourself to only using it when you were at home, letting monsters from all over the world rail you while you made dinner or took a shower or lay on your couch watching TV. But work was so boring, and you really didn’t have much to do, so what was the harm in wearing it to the office?
It was breathlessly thrilling to wear the Pleasure Portal device at your desk, alone in the antechamber outside Mr. Barnes’ office, feeling all manner of monster cock fill you while you were on the clock. It got to a point where even if you weren’t stuffed full of cock, you were daydreaming about it. Your idle thoughts constantly wandered back to your favorite Patrons.
The day everything truly changed, was a day like any other.
It was a beautiful sunny afternoon in New York City, the golden summer sun glinting off buildings and giving you a perfect view of Central Park with all its gorgeous green foliage. And it was another boring day at your desk, with nothing for you to do since the assistants were self-sufficient and Bucky was busy behind his closed office doors.
At that point, you’d been part of the Pleasure Portal network for a few months, and your mind kept straying back to one of your recent clients, a minotaur that had used you the previous week.
Your fingers toyed idly with the buttons of your silk blouse, which was tucked into a tight black pencil skirt. You bit your lip as you remembered the feeling of the minotaur’s impressive length filling you up for hours one morning, his stamina lasting for what seemed like an eon.
He’d used you for so long, and fucked you so relentlessly, you’d nearly passed out at your desk. It had been glorious.
Once he was done with you, the minotaur had left you a generous tip “for monopolizing your morning,” as well as a favorable review: “5/5 stars, tightest pussy I’ve had in a long time. Would fuck again.”
It was the last part of his review that still stuck with you a week later, and had you daydreaming that he would, in fact, fuck you again. You didn’t often accept repeat clients, but for the minotaur, you’d make an exception. He’d pleasured you well enough that you could see yourself enjoying another session with him.
Unbidden, your thoughts veered sharply away from your minotaur client. Instead, icy blue eyes, sharp canine teeth, and a broad chest clad in an expensive suit flashed through your mind. You tried desperately to halt your thoughts before they could venture further down that path, but your imagination couldn’t be stopped.
Your fantasy shifted, and before you could rein in your mind, you were thinking about being stretched open on a thick werewolf cock while you sat in your boss’s lap. The base of his length, where his knot would inflate, would nudge against your clit and remind you that once he came, you’d be unable to separate.
Your bodies would be tied together in such an intimate way that couldn’t be ignored. You’d be connected in the most primal, physical way possible…
With a sigh, you blinked the tantalizing image from your mind and returned your focus to the gorgeous sight of the summer sun shining brightly down on New York City, glinting off the water of the lake in Central Park and shimmering off the windows of the other skyscrapers in midtown Manhattan.
You willed your heart to slow and your breathing to even out in an effort to temper the heat that had begun building in your core. When your fantasy had shifted to Bucky, your slit had flooded with desire, and you could feel the sticky evidence in your panties when you crossed one leg over the other.
Truthfully, you’d hoped that joining the Pleasure Portal network would distract you from your crush on your boss, but it seemed to have the opposite effect. Letting all manner of monsters use your hole was fun, but it was all anonymous, and it lacked the true connection you thought you could only find in real life.
And, to be perfectly honest, you weren’t interested in finding a true connection with anyone other than Bucky. Even the minotaur from the previous week paled in comparison to your boss. Though he’d been a good lover and had tipped well, you didn’t want anything more from him than a few more orgasms.
You were, unfortunately, still hung up on the older werewolf CEO with the icy blue eyes that sent shivers down your spine and the devastatingly handsome face. You wanted the monster who sat in his office just a few dozen feet away from your desk, but might as well have been a whole world away with the thick wooden doors and his inability to see you as anything more than his EA.
A soft chime from your phone pulled you from that train of thought and you picked up the device. A small smile stole across your face when you saw a Pleasure Portal notification: A new Patron was requesting a session!
Eager for something to distract you from your thoughts of Bucky Barnes, you quickly opened up the app and scanned the request.
James, 42, werewolf, was asking for an immediate session, and he was willing to pay an exorbitant amount of money—so much that even your eyes widened at the number of zeros. It was more than you made in an entire week as a senior EA, and all for a few hours of being this monster’s Pleasure Pocket.
Still, you couldn’t lie and tell yourself the money was really what swayed you. It was this potential client’s profile, particularly the part where he noted he was a werewolf.
After daydreaming about Bucky, you were feeling more than a little needy. And even though fucking this werewolf named James wouldn’t be the same as finally getting the attention you desired from your boss, you couldn’t deny yourself. You wanted a knot, and if you couldn’t have the one you really wanted, you’d take anything you could get.
So, without any more thought, you hit the button on the app that accepted James’s offer.
As soon as the Pleasure Portal app registered your acceptance, you felt the device hum to life on the mound of your pussy. Delightful tingles erupted in a circle around your hole, the magical current of the portal coming to life and teasing your skin.
You gave a little shiver of anticipation as you leaned back in your expensive, ergonomic desk chair. You closed your eyes, and waited for James to begin using his side of the open portal, arousal already gathering between your thighs as you thought about being used by the anonymous Patron.
Less than a minute later, you felt the pointed tip of the werewolf’s cock nudging carefully against your entrance. The first feel of him made your breath catch in your throat.
James felt big, even just the tip of him spreading your lower lips as he pushed against your entrance. He seemed to be taking it slow, testing out your readiness, being careful not to hurt you with one rough thrust.
When you realized how big he was and the care he was taking with you, your pussy flooded with arousal. It was enough to make your hole slick and ready for his massive cock.
It occurred to you that James might be the biggest monster you’d ever taken, and you were eager to find out if you were right about that. In your chest, your heart raced, but the rest of you remained still as you waited with a breathless excitement for James to feed you more of his cock.
Your prediction was confirmed a moment later when James pressed deeper, the narrow tip of his cock giving way to a thick girth that had you gasping for air and clutching the edge of your desk. Your nails dug into the unyielding wood as your pussy clamped down hard on the werewolf’s penetrating length.
A soft chime came from your phone, and you picked it up to find James had sent a text through Pleasure Portal’s in-app messaging system. Some clients tried to use it for dirty talk, but more often than not, their attempts at seducing you with words had the opposite effect so you usually ignored them.
However, James’s message was different.
Fuck, you’re tight. Even for a human.
The werewolf sounded grumpy, almost resentful of your pussy, like he could barely believe anyone, even a human, could be so tight. It was a far cry from the effusive flattery most other Patrons tried to woo you with, but the honesty of it charmed you.
A smile tugged at the corner of your mouth, and your thumbs moved quickly as you typed out a response that you hoped would elicit more delightful grumpiness from the older werewolf.
Fucked many humans, have you?
The self-satisfied grin on your face slipped when James pushed further into your hole, your mouth forming a perfect ‘o’ and your eyes going wide as your body stretched to accomodate his monster cock.
He was so big and overwhelming, the velvet-wrapped steel of his girth rubbing deliciously against your inner walls while he pressed deeper, that you momentarily forgot about your phone and it fell with a dull thunk to your desk.
When he was still only partway inside your pussy, James paused, as if giving you time to adjust—and giving himself a moment to send an answer to your question.
My fair share. How many werewolves have you had?
Picking up your phone to read the message, you huffed a dry laugh at James’s blunt question. It wasn’t really his business—though he must’ve seen on your profile that you had a few positive reviews from past werewolf Patrons—but you found you didn’t mind the intrusive question.
For some reason, you felt a connection to James that had always been lacking in your previous clients, werewolf and other monsters alike. You knew it was likely just because he reminded you of the boss you were crushing on and would never have, but you couldn’t help indulging yourself and gave James an honest response.
A few. None as big as you, though.
The werewolf must’ve shunted his hips forward, burying his cock impossibly deeper in your pussy. The sudden surge of pleasure made you forget yourself, and a desperate squeal slipped from your lips before you could clap a hand over your mouth to muffle the sound.
God, he was so big, the stretch of him burning pleasantly through your core. Your pussy throbbed around the thick girth of his shaft, which was buried so deep, you swore you could feel him in your belly. Pressing a palm to your lower stomach, you stared down at your lap in awe when you could feel the thick steel of him inside your body even while you sat alone in your desk chair.
The magic of the Pleasure Portal was wild—and you loved it.
You loved sitting at your desk, in your office above the clouds, stuffed full of werewolf cock where anyone could walk in—where even Bucky could walk in—and talk to you like nothing was out of the ordinary. He’d never know you were full of cock, unless your face gave you away.
That thought made your pussy drip around James’s thick cock, making the slide of his hard length easier as he slipped even deeper. Your moan at the feeling was muffled behind the palm of your hand and you bent over, letting your forehead fall against the cool wood of your desk while you basked in the sensation of being filled so deliciously.
Even with your thighs trapped tight together by your pencil skirt, the new position opened your body up, and made it easier for James to hilt his monstrous cock in your tight hole. In seconds, he was buried to the base, filling you up more than you even thought possible.
It was all you could do to stifle your blissed-out moans and desperate whimpers in your hand, not wanting to draw your boss’s attention and end your exquisite torment as you writhed in pleasure on James’s cock.
I’m sure you say that to all the monsters on this app.
It took a moment for you to wade through the haze filling your head and grab your phone to read James’s message.
When you did, you let out an unladylike snort. It was so perfectly grumpy that it made you want to be playful with the older werewolf, an urge you didn’t often care enough about your Patrons to muster.
Gotta earn those tips somehow 🤪
James must’ve let out a low growl at that response, because you could feel the vibration reverberate through his cock where it was buried inside you.
A soft, pitiful mewl slipped from your lips, and you dropped your head back to your desk with a thunk, your eyes sliding closed as overwhelming pleasure washed through you.
You’re trouble.
The chime of your phone had you lifting your head back up, your eyes popping open, and you couldn’t bite back the smile at the warm grumpiness of James’s response.
Something about those two words had your heart doing flips in your chest and the long-dormant butterflies in your stomach taking flight.
Your inner walls were stretched so perfectly around his hard length, you could practically feel the thrum of his blood pumping in his shaft, and he could feel every throb of your pussy. Your pussy fluttered around the werewolf’s thick cock, and you could feel him twitch in reply.
It was as if your bodies were conversing in a language all their own.
It was so intimate, the physical connection between you and this anonymous werewolf named James, that you couldn’t stop your mind from wandering to your boss. You wondered if he would be as big, if he’d fill you up as good—if you’d be able to feel every vein and ridge in his cock.
You wondered if Bucky would be able to make you smile and laugh the way James had.
And as soon as you had that thought, you realized how unfair you were being to James. It wasn’t his fault you couldn’t get over this ridiculous crush on your boss, and you started to feel bad for thinking about another monster while he was inside you.
So you pushed all thoughts of Bucky aside and refocused on James, picking up your phone to type out another playful response, hoping to get another grumpy reply.
Trouble with a tight pussy, though, right? 😉
Yeah, sweetling, you’ve got a very tight pussy. Feels like you’re strangling my dick.
You huffed a laugh at the vaguely violent description of your pussy, enjoying the blunt way the grumpy werewolf spoke. And if your heart fluttered even more at the sweet nickname and naked praise in James’s message, you ignored the blossoming emotion in your chest.
The only thing worse than harboring a crush on your unattainable boss was developing a crush on one of your anonymous Pleasure Patrons. That way lay only heartbreak, of that you were certain. So you tried to rein in the feelings developing in your heart.
When you tried to type out another playful message and remain detached, though, your fingers seemed to have a mind of their own, sending a text that was perhaps a little too honest.
Thank you, sir ☺️ I want to please you.
James’s cock jumped inside you, drawing a low, obscene moan from your lips before you could bite it back, your eyes going hazy as pleasure throbbed through your body.
Distractedly, you wondered which part of your message had elicited that response from James—whether it was you calling him ‘sir’ or your honest desire to please him. Or perhaps it was both.
Before you could muster up the courage to ask, his next message came through, and your mouth curved into a pleased smile when it answered your unspoken questions.
Keep calling me that and you’ll earn a very generous tip, sweetling.
A pleased smile bloomed across your face as you read James’s message. You tried to tell yourself it was in response to the prospect of the tip he was offering, and not the sweet nickname, but you weren’t fooling yourself.
You tried to think of a more playful, detached response, but before you could come up with anything, another message came in.
I have a call soon, I just need some quick stress relief beforehand, but I’ll double your tip every time you cum on my cock.
You breathed a sigh of relief before you could stop yourself, happy to have a break from your flirty exchange with the werewolf to talk about the logistics of your session. Still, you couldn’t stop your pussy from fluttering around James’s cock at his blunt, filthy words.
He filled you so well, it was almost hard to think, and you blamed your needy distraction for the almost desperate tone of the response you sent him.
Use me, sir, and I’ll do my best to take it 🫡 That’s what I’m here for.
James didn’t need any more encouragement than that. You could feel the way he groaned at your words, the low rumbling of pleasure reverberating through your sensitive inner walls, and making you gush with even more wetness, like your pussy was drooling for the werewolf cock stuffed deep in your hole to fuck you.
Then he was doing just that, using his side of the Pleasure Portal to fuck you hard and fast, pounding into your pussy like you were nothing more than a fleshlight made solely for his pleasure. It was brutal, ruthless, perfect, the way his cock filled your tight hole, the pointed tip bullying your cervix with every merciless thrust.
All you could do was take it, pleasure swarming through your body and overwhelming your mind, until you were little more than the werewolf’s toy, your body hunched at your desk, your face buried in the crook of your arm to muffle your sounds of enjoyment while you took everything he offered.
Your inner walls were stretched thin around James’s cock, and though the drag of his thick girth felt devastatingly good, it wasn’t enough to make you cum. With trembling fingers, you slipped your hand beneath your pencil skirt, not caring how high up your thighs you pushed the material, just intent about reaching the juncture of your thighs.
It took only a brief brush of your fingers against your clothed clit to set you off.
Your mouth fell open and you pressed your blunt teeth into your arm through the silk of your blouse, a high-pitched whine falling from your lips as the pleasure in your body exploded and you were carried away in the relentless rhythm of James’s cock pounding into your cunt.
Your panting breath was loud in your ears, but you could’ve sworn you heard a faint groan as your pussy milked the werewolf’s cock, your inner walls clamping down so hard on his thick length, you felt him twitch deep inside you.
But you brushed off the sound as a figment of your imagination. It must’ve been your mind playing tricks on you, born of a desire to hear your partner when you were alone in your pleasure, with only your gasps and moans as company. You ached to press against James’s sturdy body, to hear his voice, to feel more than his cock…
Thankfully, a soft chime from your phone dragged you back from the sudden rush of loneliness that filled your heart and threatened to consume all your enjoyment like a black hole.
Good girl. Cum on this fat werewolf cock like the perfect little slut you are, sweetling.
“Oh fuck,” you whispered to yourself, your eyes sliding closed as another shiver of pleasure skated down your spine at his words and his pumping cock. Already, tension was coiling tight in your core again, and you were rocketing toward another release.
You’d never gotten off to the dirty talk your Patrons had sent in the past, but James’s words did something to you no other monster had managed—they made your pussy gush and flutter. They made you moan, the sounds low and lewd as they bounced off the bare walls of the office antechamber.
James’s message was the ideal mix of praise and degradation. It tapped into your desires so perfectly, you wondered distractedly if he was also a wizard or a mind-reader.
And then you realized he hadn’t stopped his ruthless pounding even when he’d been texting you, which meant he was fucking his half of the portal with one hand while typing his filthy messages to you with the other.
It all unraveled something in you, and you scrabbled for your phone on the desk, your fingers clumsy and trembling as you typed out a response, desperate for James to know what he was doing to you. You wanted him to know how good he was making you feel.
You feel so so good inside my tight cunt, sir. Your fat werewolf cock is splitting me open, breaking me apart. Feels sooo good.
The act of typing out those words made the tension in your body wind tighter, and just as you hit send, you realized you were on the precipice of another release. Quickly, you sent another message without waiting for a response.
I’m gonna cum again.
Your fingers, which you’d pulled from beneath your skirt so you could text with two hands, slipped back beneath the tight fabric. They squirmed between your plush thighs, which were already pushing the pencil skirt’s seams to they’re limits, and tugged your panties to the side to rub your clit.
You were careening toward your second release in just a few seconds, your breaths coming in sharp, desperate pants, and your heart pounding in your chest. You could even hear the faint, obscene wet sound of James’s cock pounding into your gushing pussy.
But all of it fell away when you heard the chime of another message.
Rub your pretty pearl, sweetling, and cum again on this thick werewolf cock. Show me what a good slut you can be for me, use that tight cunt to milk my fat cock.
Obediently, your fingertips pressed harder to your clit and you rubbed it roughly, matching the rhythm of James’s fucking, until you were shoved over the edge again. Your entire body seized, every muscle in your body going taut, as the tension in your core wound tight and then, suddenly, snapped.
Dropping your phone to your desk, you shoved half your fist in your mouth to muffle the high-pitched scream that clawed up your throat and wanted to burst free.
You couldn’t tell how much noise you were making, but you hoped it wasn’t enough to get Bucky’s attention, because you were lost to the bliss James offered. You were a hopeless, pitiful puddle of pleasure in your ergonomic chair—and you never wanted it to end.
While you were in the throes of your release, you thought you heard another groan, deeper and filthier than the one earlier, a sound that matched the way James’s cock kicked deep in your cunt, like he was on the verge of losing himself in your body.
But that thought drifted away in the current of pleasure that was carrying you along, dissolving as soon as it had appeared, leaving you to revel in your release.
Distantly, you heard your phone go off, and you reached for it blindly, gasping for breath as you struggled to open your eyes and read the text.
That’s a good girl, cumming so perfectly for me. You have such a slutty hole, sweetling, cumming all over my werewolf cock and clutching at me like you’re begging for more. Do you want another one, my sweet girl?
A soft, sharp whine slipped from your lips and you had to bite down hard on your plush lower lip to stifle the sound. Even still, it ricocheted off the bare walls in the antechamber, and you hoped the thick wood of Bucky’s office doors muffled it.
But you barely paid your boss any mind, fingers trembling with need and excitement as you typed out a response to James with one hand.
Yes, please, sir. Please make me cum again, I wanna cum all over your big werewolf cock. You fill me up so so good. I wanna bounce on your huge, perfect cock and take every inch of your fat knot, sir. Please!
James’s reply came back so quickly, even you were stunned with how fast it appeared. All he said was:
Fuck. You can’t be real.
You had little time to marvel over those words, and the way they made your heart flutter dangerously in your chest, because in the next breath James was pounding into you even harder.
He used your cunt as his own personal pleasure portal, fucking you like you were the stress relief he deserved, shoving his entire length deep inside your pussy. The narrow tip of his cock battered against your cervix, pushing into it a little more each time, giving every thrust a sharp edge of pain that made the pleasure even more exquisitely devastating.
It was all too good, too perfect, your mind splintering as the world around you fell away entirely. You were no longer the senior EA to werewolf CEO Bucky Barnes, you were a Pleasure Pocket made to be used by every manner of monster for their pleasure.
No, not just any monster—you were made specifically for James, 42, werewolf. You were his personal sex toy, his pocket pussy, his fuck hole. And all you could do was take it—take his cock, take the brutal pounding he offered, and the bliss that came with it, and let him take his pleasure in your body.
You imagined James on the other end of the magical portal, holding the cylindrical fleshlight-like device in his big hands and yanking it down on his impossibly thick cock. You pictured him fucking the portal toy—and, by extension, your cunt—with everything he had, sweat beading on his face, the muscles in his broad body shifting beneath his fur and skin.
Before you could stop it, the image in your mind shifted, the generic figure of a werewolf morphing into something more familiar, something resembling the daydream you’d had earlier.
In your mind’s eye, James became Bucky.
You could so easily picture the way Bucky’s bright blue eyes would flash with hunger and darken with lust as he pounded into your tight cunt, the emotions churning like the sky during a summer thunderstorm.
It was far too easy to imagine the way his sharp canine teeth would glint in the lights of the office as he bore down on your body, his expensive suit only undone enough to free his cock, the gush of your pussy making a mess of the front of his slacks as he split you open with every thrust.
His inhuman muscles would strain the seams of his suit, making them cling to the bulge of his biceps and the flexing of his thighs as he fucked you on his desk. You’d be entirely at his mercy, which was exactly where you wanted to be more than anywhere else in the world—even with James.
A pang in your chest dragged you out of your fantasy, and you remembered the werewolf who was actually fucking you. You felt a little bit bad for daydreaming about Bucky when you were with James, especially since the latter had quickly become your favorite Patron. But, you reasoned, what he didn’t know couldn’t hurt him.
So you sank deeper into your daydream about your boss, imagining it was Bucky fucking you instead of some random stranger on the other end of the Pleasure Portal.
The combination of James’s perfect cock and your imagination’s perfect picture of Bucky was too much for your mind and body to take. The werewolf was fucking you too hard and too fast, and you were breathless from the pleasure, unable to stop yourself from speeding toward a devastating release.
You held on for as long as you could, but James seemed intent on making you cum again before his call began. And the werewolf confirmed as much when your phone chimed with another message.
Do it. Cum on my cock, sweetling. Be a good girl and give it to me so I can fill you up with my knot and stuff your tight pussy full of cum. Then you can sit pretty on my fat werewolf cock like a perfect little knot slut while I take this call.
Those filthy words were all you needed to push you over the edge.
A breathy, high-pitched cry escaped your lips before you could stop it, but you were too far gone to care. Pleasure overwhelmed you, blackness creeping into the edge of your consciousness as your body shivered and shook with the force of your release.
All the while, your pussy was clamped down on James’s thick cock as he kept fucking you, like your body was begging for his cum. His hard length vibrated with a groan you could’ve sworn you could hear. You swayed perilously in your chair, your eyes closed and your entire being focused on the cock bringing you so much pleasure.
The werewolf lasted only a few more moments, his thrusts turning wild and erratic as he rutted into your too-tight cunt. Then he was shoving his cock deep in your hole, his knot inflating and stretching the edge of your hole a second before his big cock twitched inside you, spilling his cum in your plugged pussy.
Your breath caught in your throat at the sudden stretch of James’s knot, and though there was a brief moment when you worried he might be too big for you to take, your body was loose and relaxed enough from your three orgasms that it adjusted. You were left with a feeling of being blissfully full.
It felt so good, in fact, that you leaned back in your chair with a sigh of contentment. Your fingers trapped between your thighs stroked your clit and your pussy pulsed with one more release.
Pleasure shivered down your spine as you came again, and your inner walls fluttered weakly around James’s cock, sucking him deeper while his shaft throbbed and he filled you with cum.
Did you just cum for a fourth time, just on my knot?
You dragged your hand from beneath your skirt to grab your phone when it chimed. A sated smile curled the corners of your lips as you read James’s message, your pussy fluttering with happiness.
The smile bloomed into a full-blown grin when you typed out your response, going for playful but ending up sending something entirely too honest. Again.
Yes, sir 🥴 I wouldn’t have thought of myself as a knot slut, but I think you’ve converted me.
Haha
James’s dry response had a pleased sense of pride filling your chest. It was the first time he’d shown any kind of emotion outside of his dirty talk, and your heart squeezed, even as you told yourself nothing good could come of the little crush you were developing on your Pleasure Portal client.
Before you could spiral about how you felt about James, though, another text from the werewolf came through your phone.
Time for you to rest, sweetling. Be a good girl and keep my cock warm while I take this call. If you’re patient, I’ll use you again and double your tip.
You smiled at James’s message. Of course you could be patient and good, especially for him. You shifted in your seat, trying to get comfortable and accustomed to the feeling of fullness in your core.
It was a little strange, the feeling of James’s thick cock and full knot inside you, mainly because you were still alone at your desk, high above the New York City skyline, but it wasn’t unpleasant. In fact, you thought you might be able to get very used to sitting on a werewolf’s knot, and even enjoy it very much.
But you would’ve rather been able to do so in the presence of the werewolf whose knot you were tied to.
A pang of loneliness pierced your heart, and you thought of the werewolf whose knot you really wanted to be tied to, but you quickly pushed it away. Instead of thinking about your boss, you focused on the throbbing pulse between your thighs where you were tied to the anonymous werewolf.
Thank you, sir. Knock ‘em dead 😘
As soon as you sent the message, you wanted to take it back. Blowing a kiss felt too…romantic, too intimate for a Pleasure Pocket and their Patron. But the little note had already popped up confirming James had seen it. He didn’t respond, though, and you had to assume his call had started.
You tried to distract yourself by checking on your own work.
The fleet of assistants were all busy with their tasks, and according to Bucky’s schedule, he was in a meeting for the next couple hours.
It was a relief to know your boss wouldn’t be interrupting your session with James, and you wondered distractedly if they might happen to be on the same call. But then you snorted and shook your head at the ridiculous thought. Not every werewolf knew each other, you chastised yourself, and it was small-minded to think otherwise.
It was just a coincidence that James was in a call at the same time that Bucky was in a virtual meeting.
Satisfied that there wasn’t any work to be done, you got comfortable in your chair, and closed your eyes against the bright summer sun filtering in through the windows of the antechamber. You allowed your mind to drift and daydream to your heart’s content.
You wondered what James looked like—what color his eyes were; what shape his canine teeth were, if he left them sharp or had filed them to be blunter and more socially acceptable. You wondered if he was broad-shouldered, like Bucky, or lithe and slim like other werewolves you’d seen.
All the while, you tried to ignore the building restlessness in your body.
You should’ve been plenty sated after James gave you four orgasms in such a short period of time, but the constant fullness of his cock in your cunt and his knot stretching the rim of your hole was enough to make you needy again.
Still, you remembered James’s last command, and you did your best to sit still, be patient and not bother him. It wasn’t that you cared much about the tip he’d offered, you just wanted to be good for him.
After a while, James’s knot deflated enough that he could’ve pulled free and ended the sessions, but he kept his cock lodged inside you. His cum was slowly seeping out around his thick girth, soaking your panties and creating a sticky mess between your thighs.
Unfortunately, that only turned you on more, your renewed desire mixing with the copious amount of James’s cum, and it wasn’t long before you couldn’t stop squirming in your seat. Unable to stop yourself, you slid a hand beneath your skirt, already bunched up around your thighs, and rubbed your clit teasingly.
The touch was enough to make your pussy pulse around James’s cock, and you felt his thick length kick in response. He’d softened a little since unloading his cum in your pussy, but you felt him start to harden again.
A second later, your phone chimed.
Sweetling.
A shiver of desire slid down your spine at the warning in James’s tone, even through text.
You knew the message was meant to stop you from distracting him during his call, but you couldn’t help yourself. You stroked your clit, delighting in the feeling of your pussy throbbing and his cock twitching deep in your tight hole, growing to fill you again.
With one hand, you typed out a reply.
I tried to be good, sir, but I’m just a silly knot slut who needs you to fill me up with your fat werewolf cock again until you’re pumping my tight cunt full of your cum and tying me to your cock with your knot 🤪
James’s response came back a few seconds later.
I knew you’d be trouble.
You gave a soft snort at his words, and though it was difficult to discern someone’s tone over text, you got the impression James’s comment was said with warmth.
Before you could analyze it any more, the werewolf’s cock began to move inside you. He fucked you in slow, shallow strokes that gave you only a fraction of the friction you needed to get close to cumming again.
You expected him to pick up speed, but he went on like that for long, torturous minutes, until a pitiful whine was building in the back of your throat and you were scrabbling for your phone.
In just a few minutes, James had reduced you to a desperate mess, your hips squirming restlessly in your chair, your body uselessly trying to fuck yourself on his cock.
Please, sir. Please fuck me, use my tight pussy to make your cock feel good. You’re tormenting me. I can’t get off like this. Please!
Writhing in your chair, you unbuttoned your blouse down to your bra, brazenly groping your tits and plucking at your nipples while you tried to give yourself the stimulation James seemed determined to withhold.
His next reply seemed to take forever.
Maybe you should’ve thought about that before you decided to be a naughty knot slut instead of a good, patient girl like I asked.
A frustrated sound wrenched free from your lips and you abandoned your tits to drop your hand between your thighs. You rubbed your clit madly, intent on eking out a release despite James’s torture.
James must’ve felt the way your pussy spasmed and fluttered around his cock as your pleasure ramped up, because another message came through.
If you cum, you won’t get any of the tip you’ve earned.
Your mouth twisted in a snarl and you rolled your eyes. Of course every man or monster using Pleasure Portal assumed you could be controlled with money. They all assumed that was the only thing you were after.
You’d never been more grateful for Mr. Barnes’ generous salary than in that moment, because it meant you could care more about your release than James’s threat.
You kept rubbing your clit, rocking your hips on your seat until the ergonomic chair began to squeak. You were desperately clawing your way to the peak of your pleasure, and though you could already tell it wouldn’t be anywhere near the heights you’d reached earlier with James, it would at least take the edge off.
But then the werewolf’s next message made your fingers go still.
If you cum, I won’t use your pussy again.
Your whole body shuddered in protest at the idea of not feeling James’s cock pounding into your cunt again, and a tiny growl slipped from your lips.
It took a great deal of effort, but you pulled your hand from between your thighs and typed out a reply.
Fine.
You couldn’t help but tack on another message, anger, desire and frustration swirling through your body and making you feel far too comfortable with your client.
You’re a mean werewolf.
Faint vibrations reverberated through James’s cock and you thought he’d chuckled at your message, though you couldn’t be sure. Even more frustration surged, and for the first time since you started using the Pleasure Portal, you wished you were actually with your client.
You wanted to see James’s reactions, you wanted to hear his voice and feel his strong body beneath yours while his cock filled you up…
That’s ‘You’re a mean werewolf, sir’ to you.
James’s message brought your attention back to him and, despite yourself, you giggled at his ridiculous joke. Some of the frustration had drained from you as you eased back from the edge of your release, and you were ready to forgive him.
But before you could, he sent another text.
Don’t worry, sweetling, my call’s almost over. Then I’ll use you the way you want.
With a happy grin, you settled back into your chair and waited patiently, keeping the werewolf’s cock nice and warm in your dripping pussy. You kept your thoughts on easy things like your plans for the next weekend as you watched the sun slowly descend on New York City, the shadows growing long as they stretched across Central Park.
True to his word, James’s call ended not too long after his last message. You knew the moment it was over because he started fucking you hard and fast again, so suddenly you cried out, careless about whether your boss could overhear you.
Thankfully, those thick wooden doors to Bucky’s office must’ve swallowed the sounds you made. You shoved your hand under your skirt, rubbing your clit, desperate to reach the crescendo he’d denied you during his call.
Cum on my cock, sweetling. Gimme all your sweet cream while I fill you up with so much cum, your belly will be bloated, stuffed full with my seed and knot.
As soon as you read James’s message, you were lost to the pleasure of his words and his cock, and your fingers on your clit.
You muffled a piercing scream in the palm of your hand as you came, your mind flooding with pleasure and your pussy clamping down possessively on James’s cock while he rutted into you. You were so far gone in your bliss, you thought you heard a roar over the rush of blood in your ears, but you didn’t think it could be real.
Then all thoughts were pushed from your mind and you could only focus on your own clenching body, the warm waves of bliss surging through your limbs as James’s knot inflated and tied you together. His cock twitched as his cum spilled inside you, filling you beyond what you thought possible.
You looked down at your belly, watching it swell slightly; your eyes widened, and your pussy gave an excited pulse. The sight was so obscene, you couldn’t help your response, but the werewolf on the other end of the portal didn’t seem to mind.
James’s cock kicked and reverberated like he’d groaned or chuckled, and you softened, relaxing into your seat as you enjoyed the aftershocks of your release. All the while, you lightly stroked your ever-so-slightly distended belly with a sense of pleased satisfaction.
While you floated in your post-orgasm haze, your phone chimed with a sound like a cash register. Lazily, you picked it up, knowing it wasn’t a text, and read the screen.
Your jaw dropped and your whole body clenched in surprise at the amount of money James had tipped. His cock twitched as if in response in your cunt and you pressed your palm to your lower belly, as if to calm him, while you blinked a few times.
Still, the absurd number remained on your phone’s screen.
You earned it, sweetling.
The message popped up in the app and you clicked on it, navigating to your exchange with James. Your fingers were clumsy as you typed out a reply.
Thank you, sir. You’ve been so incredibly generous.
You chewed on your lip, thumbs hovering over the screen as you wondered if you should say more.
You didn’t want James to think your session was all about the money, but was that a ridiculous thought? Maybe it was all about the money to him. He was using an anonymous sex portal app, after all. Not looking for someone to form a connection with.
But it still seemed like there was something more between you two, right? You felt more comfortable with him than you had any other client, like you knew him already somehow…
Before you could agonize over your exchange with James any more, a new message from the older werewolf came in.
You were the best stress relief and cockwarmer, sweetling, and I enjoyed our afternoon together. I hope you’ll accept me as a Patron again.
James’s words settled the anxiety brewing in your chest and you let out a sigh of relief. You knew it didn’t mean he’d ever want more than you offered on Pleasure Portal, but at least he wanted to be with you again. It was as simple as that, you didn’t need to overcomplicate it.
He wanted to have another session with you—and you wanted that as well. So you told him as much.
I had a good time, too. You’re welcome to use me any time you want, sir ☺️
The two of you chatted about unimportant things until James’s knot deflated, and he instructed you to drink plenty of water and have a nutritious snack. You promised him you would and bid him goodbye before ending the session.
Glancing at the time on your phone, you suddenly realized how late it had gotten and you pushed yourself up to your feet.
All the blood rushed to your head and you swayed for a moment, blinking spots from your eyes. Remembering James’s words, you gulped down some water from your reusable water bottle and grabbed a snack from your desk along with a spare set of clothes you kept on hand for messy Pleasure Portal sessions.
In the bathroom, you changed and cleaned yourself up, glad that Bucky was already in his office when you got to your desk that morning so he wouldn’t notice you were wearing something different if you ran into him.
Though that was a big if.
Your heart sank a little at the reminder of your unrequited crush on your boss, but hope filled you again when you thought of your newest Pleasure Patron. It might be another silly crush on an unattainable man, but at least James seemed interested in you.
By the time you made it back to the antechamber outside Bucky’s office, it was time for you to gather your things and head home.
You were bent over your desk, your hips straining at the seams of the slightly smaller pencil skirt you’d thrown on, having forgotten it had shrunk a little in the wash, when a door opened behind you. You jumped and straightened up, nearly dropping your water bottle and spilling it all over your desk.
“Oh! Mr. Barnes,” you said, spinning to find your boss towering in the doorway of his office, broad shoulders filling the space. “Heading home early?” you asked in a bright, professional tone, trying to hide the breathlessness from your voice.
It wasn’t often that you saw your boss. He was always in meetings or coming or going from his office so that you only got cursory glances of the large werewolf. But he was paused for once, and you took a moment to look him over.
He had a mop of dark brown hair, worn just a little bit shaggy so no one could ever accuse him of trying to pass as anything but a werewolf. His blue eyes were bright and sharp in the late afternoon light, and you could see just a hint of his canine teeth as he offered a charming smile.
That expression on Bucky’s face nearly bowled you over. Your eyes skimmed quickly over his broad shoulders, trim waist and thick thighs before returning to the handsame face of the werewolf that haunted your daydreams. He looked every bit the important CEO, but there was also a looseness in his body you’d never seen before.
“I am,” Bucky said, his blunt words drawing you back to the moment. He held a hand out in a gesture for you to precede him to the elevators beyond the antechamber outside his office. “Let me walk you out.”
The offer was so surprising, all you could do was murmur, “Oh, thank you,” before scurrying in front of him. As you began to walk, you felt James’s cum begin to leak from your pussy and you moved faster.
Your belly wasn’t bloated anymore, and you’d cleaned yourself up as well as you could in the bathroom, but your Patron had filled you with so much cum, you expected you’d be leaking for the rest of the day, if not into the morning.
You hoped desperately that your boss couldn’t smell it, because if he did, you wouldn’t have any explanation if he decided to question why you smelled like another werewolf’s cum when you were meant to be working at your desk outside his office.
When you came to a stop at the elevator bank, Bucky gently laid a hand on the small of your back and leaned around you to press the button. Thankfully, he didn’t show any signs of smelling James on you, and you exhaled a silent sigh of relief.
The two of you made idle chatter while you waited for the elevator—you asked him how his afternoon meeting had gone and the edge of Bucky’s mouth fluttered like he was holding back a smirk while he told you it went very well. He said he’d gotten everything he wanted.
Then he asked how your afternoon had gone, and you’d stumbled out a response about being very productive, all while more of James’s cum leaked from your cunt.
As you talked, you got the sense that Bucky was in a better mood than usual. He was certainly more talkative and open with you than was typical for the older werewolf CEO. He was polite, of course, but he mostly left you alone to do your job, only communicating via email.
But that particular afternoon, he seemed…happier. His icy blue eyes were warm, crinkling at the sides whenever he chuckled, and his smile was quicker, easier somehow.
Impossibly, it made Bucky Barnes even more attractive to you.
He was hot as the brusque and busy werewolf CEO, but this side of him, which was charming and warm, was even hotter. You could feel your heart unfurling in your chest, your feelings for your boss not only returning, but blossoming into something you didn’t know if you’d ever recover from.
When the elevator finally arrived, it was empty, and you gave yourself a subtle shake as you stepped in, reminding yourself that your boss was off-limits and likely didn’t see you as a potential partner.
Bucky followed you, pressing the button for the lobby and turning to you as if to continue your conversation. But just then, the door whooshed closed and you were alone in a small, enclosed space with your boss—your werewolf boss.
You were already looking at him, anticipating what he’d been about to say, so you were able to watch the change in his demeanor as it happened.
Bucky’s nostrils flared, and his shoulders stiffened, his bright blue eyes darkening with something you could only describe as hunger. His gaze raked over your face, and his chest expanded as he took a deep breath, his thick muscles testing the limits of his suit.
You watched as recognition dawned in his sharp, icy eyes, and if your mind wasn’t so sluggish after your afternoon of orgasms, you might’ve understood what was going on, what he was realizing.
As it was, you still hadn’t caught up with the shift in Bucky. You stared at him in confusion as he stepped quickly to the side, his thick finger pressing the emergency stop button on the elevator. It shuddered to a halt between floors, leaving you alone with your boss.
Slowly, Bucky turned to you, his eyes flashing with lust and his teeth bared so that you could see the light glinting off his canine teeth. He prowled toward you slowly, like he was trying not to spook you.
All you felt was intrigued, a thrill of excitement shooting through your body as you allowed Bucky to back you into the corner of the elevator until his chest was a hair’s breadth away from yours. Your chest was heaving in your blouse with excited, panting breaths, and your head was tilted back, watching Bucky’s face closely.
The purr that came from the werewolf CEO was so low and dark, you hardly recognized it as belonging to your boss, even as the sound went straight between your thighs. Your pussy thrummed eagerly in response, like it knew something you didn’t—like it recognized him in a way you didn’t understand yet.
“Tell me, sweetling,” Bucky Barnes rasped, staring deep into your eyes as his big hand settled possessively on your hip. You swayed into him, watching his pink mouth framed by dark, gray-streaked stubble as he voiced the question that would change everything. “Why do you smell like my cum?”
thank you for reading!! comments and reblogs are greatly appreciated ♡
as a reminder of my blog's rules, please do not comment/reblog only to request a part 2! specific questions and comments about the fic, the characters, and the larger universe are entirely welcome!! i just ask that you please engage with my story rather than simply demanding more!!
Will there be another event this year? I was too late to start the summer event 😪
Aw! That’s alright, I hope you’re enjoying the output so far, at least!
I can’t guarantee any events this year as I don’t want to make any promises I can’t keep. I’ve had neat ideas for events that I haven’t put out yet but my real life has taken over much of my time right now. Please check back periodically! 🫶🏻
Call My Name, I'm Yours To Tame | Beast!Bucky x Beauty!Reader | Oneshot - 5k
You wake up in a strange castle surrounded by stranger people. But there's something familiar about the glint in his eyes, something reassuring in his touch, something from your dreams, and you need more.
Warnings: 18+ unhinged stream of consciousness Beauty and the Beast retelling, talk of blood, injuries, hurt/comfort (if by comfort you mean fucking), Beast doing beasty stuff, magical people, kissing, possessive behaviour, monsterkissing - cuddling - fucking, oral (f receiving), choking, size kink (reader's size is never mentioned but he's a Beast so…), hyperspermia maybe if you squint.
HBS Week 12 August 17th - August 23rd | “You can’t be real.” | [Fantasy Character | Monsterfucking | Dreaming/Daydreaming] @buckybarnesevents
@fairytalebingo cursed as a beast & a dream is a wish your heart makes
You woke from your sleep to the rumble of a growl, your head and heart pounding so hard that your vision blurred, spots appearing in front of your eyes.
The sun cut across dark parquet flooring, lighting up the stained glass of an enormous window and sending flashes of red and blue across the walls.
The growl sounded again, closer this time, accompanied by the panicked chattering of a…flame? A candle? It was hard to tell as the sunlight met the artificial light, the brightness hurting your eyes until you were squinting into the otherwise dark hallway.
"It only just happened, I didn't see -"
The woman blazed yellow, low flames flickering up her arms and pluming from the crown of her head.
The other voice, the growl, followed.
"I shouldn't be anywhere near here right now, for god's sake why do you think it should be me who —"
"You know why, she'd want you." The candelabra turned and you watched as the flame dance from her blonde hair to the small of her back. "Don't pretend like you don't want to see her too."
"Fine."
The shadows moved in the darkness next to the ornate staircase, the candle moved closer, illuminating the man as he appeared to grow taller by the second, standing at his full height and towering over his friend.
His hair tumbles down his back in long brunet waves, tied back with a dark navy velvet ribbon, but it continues into his long beard as well. Between the surpringly soft looking facial hair, two long teeth protrude from his mouth and horns from his temple. Both catching the light cast by his friends flames. Though he is dressed smartly, his hands are equally furred, his arms disappearing beneath his long coat and white ruffled shirt, where his chest peaks out between the undone laces at his neck.
He is hardly like any man you've een before, more a beast than a person,and yet his eyes hold something you recognise. A strike of blue ice full of longing, disguised beneath his obviously gruff exterior.
"You're awake." He bends down, scooping you up in his paw and holding you close as he examines your face and hairline. You barely reach his shoulder and his whole hand seems to cover the back of your head, but he's gentle nonetheless.
"I was asleep?" Your mind is swirling, nothing seems quite right except his warm body pressed against yours.
"You were hurt, let me…" an even warmer hand with fiery fingers reaches for you but —
"Leave her, Yelena, I'll tend to her."
The beast lifts you easily, one arm beneath your shoulders and the other under your knees giving you no space to argue that, apart from having no idea where you are, you mostly feel fine.
"The blood…"
Her voice fades and you have some recollection of their being blood on your fingers, on odd black gloves with no tips, and now there's blood on your white lace gloves, on your bare arms, on the buttermilk silk of your dress.
"Don't listen to Yelena, she worries." The Beast says, still gruff, and you allow your eyes to close against the comfort of his chest, tangling your fingers in the lengths of silver chain that hang there.
You know that name. You know Yelena, but who are you?
"Yelena told me she'd moved."
"She's fine, Ava. Leave us."
Ava, Ava, Ava, Ava, you knew an Ava. You turn blurry eyes towards the woman, who flickers in and out of your vision every second, tick-tock, moving slowly sideways, forwards, backwards, with each moment. She reaches a hand out, her entire arm moving rhythmically too, but the Beast snatches you away like a doll, curling a hand over your face and pressing you into his chest.
It's nice, tucked against his chest, he smells good, not just the delicate scent of his shirt, but his furred chest too, something raw and musky that has you clenching your hands further and burying your nose closer to his skin.
The Beast seems pleased with your actions, squeezing your leg in response and marching smartly down the corridor away from the vast entrance hall.
He stops outside of a set of double doors, pushing them with his foot so that they swing open dramatically, revealing a long dining room complete with polished wood table and a seemingly infinite amount of chairs. At the far end, the table has been set for two, one place at the head, the other at its side, in front of a roaring fire that makes the room feel stifling.
It's so hot you pull at the bodice of your gown, the pretty laces suddenly restrictive, the dress skirts stuck to your legs so tight it's like you can't even wiggle your toes.
"Oh, hi, I managed to find some clean cups and — oh my god what happened to you!" The man placed a large mug of coffee on the place mat and ran to your side as the Beast set you on your feet. He tucked his purple sweater over his hand and wiped at your forehead.
Blood again.
You turned to look at the Beast's shirt, but it was still pristine, falling open in the artful way shirts did on the front covers of the well read paper backs you hid in the back of your wardrobe.
Your wardrobe.
It didn't look like this place with it's swooping curtains and vaulted ceilings, there was no hardwood flooring or intricate woodwork. Just clean white lines, neat edges, no personality save for that box of belongings, half falling apart.
"Fucking hell, Bob, you've confused her now." The Beast groaned, swiping a large hand down his face and mussing up the once neat ponytail of his hair.
"Sorry, didn't mean it, but man we should really get her seen to, this looks bad."
"Can I have that coffee?" Your voice is weaker than you'd like and your hand shakes as you hold it out, the white lace of your gloves now a deep scarlet red.
"Sure, sure, you have to drink something." Bob helped you sit down and held the mug as you sipped, but the coffee was scalding and you pushed it away, sending the mug scattering across the floor in a thousand shards. "Don't worry, I'll get that."
Bob crouched down and started picking up the shards, each one seemed to get smaller and smaller in his hands, vanishing away while he moved across the room slowly, gathering the infinite pieces of the mug.
His movements, the light, the shards, suddenly you were clutching at the arms of your chair and breathing heavily, your vision blurry and there was definitely something trickling down from your brow. Your eyes foolishly looked up and you slipped forward in your seat.
"Whoa, whoa," the beast was knelt before you, large hands cupping your cheeks and then you found his eyes, "can't have you sprawled on the floor again. Sit properly. Sit up." He pushed you back into the chair and your head lolled a little, but your vision was better looking at him.
Concern was written across his stern features, a familiar line between his eyes. He stayed like that, eyes locked with yours, until your breathing slowed and all you could think about was the weight of his presence before you.
"I'm fine… I'm fine." You whispered, trying to stop your speech slurring. You were fine, it felt better with the Beast here. His hands made you feel steady, his eyes gave yours something to focus on.
"Do you want anything to eat? Bob can get something for you?" You looked down the endless room where Bob was still somehow picking up shards of smashed cup, in the partially open doorway Yelena lit up Ava's flickering concerned face.
"I don't think so, I can always …" your eyes caught on the table, full of your favourite foods in artful piles, drinks lined up, icy or steaming in turns.
You shook your head, was that ringing in your ears? Or in the hallway?
"Who's that?!" The Beast rose to his feet, towering over you.
The room was empty, the sound of Bob, Ava and Yelena hurrying away echoed only faintly compared to the scratch of the Beast's movements, his long strides covering the once endless room in mere seconds.
He wrenched the door open to find two men dressed in red, both tall and broadly built. The younger wearing large gold belt that caught the firelight and a military beret perched on top of his dirty blonde hair. He strode past the Beast, brushing his shoulder, "let me take her, we need to get her somewhere safe."
You protested as he tried to lift you, "I can stand, leave me alone."
"You heard her," the Beast roared, "leave her." He yanked at the man's shoulder, but was easily shrugged off.
"I don't want to fight with you, but she needs a proper medical assessment, look at her."
You peered down at your reflection in one of the serving salvers, you looked mostly okay. Turning your head you reared back in shock, blood had begun pouring down your face, something dark blossoming around your cheekbone and your shoulder hurt terribly. Lace fingers touched the ache and came away bloody.
"What's happening to me?" You trembled.
"Walker, you frighten her, let me speak to the little one." The other man stepped forward, he was older, but no less loud than his friend, crouching down to look you in the eye. "There was an attack."
"On the castle?" You took a deep inhale, worrying about the other people you'd seen here, were they okay. "But I was just drinking my coffee."
Walker sighed, "before now, before whatever you think is happening, we have to get you outta here. So, no more daydreaming, let's go. Alexei, maybe he'll let you carry her."
Alexei stood and bent to scoop you up but got no further than touching your shoulder before the Beast was tossing him across the room.
"You don't touch her, no one touches her, get out!"
His demand echoed around the room and while it should've sent fear rushing down your spine, there was something comforting in his possessiveness. You never felt sick or dizzy when it was just the two of you. You couldn't see the blood in the reflection of his eyes. Just yourself. And him too.
"I'm not leaving her here, she'll die. Stop being —" the Beast swung again, knocking Walker across the room to where Alexei was getting back to his feet. The noise brought the other's back. Yelena's light showing Bob and Ava hiding behind the carved wooden doors.
Now there was more blood, spilling from Walker's nose. "That is enough!" Alexei shouted back, squaring up the Beast again. "We do not hit each other when there is something greater out there we need to stop."
There was a rumbling again and the Beast didn't hesitate, lifting you into his arms. It was safe here, with the scent of petrichor and whisky and him so close to you. The blood didn't drip, your mind stayed still enough for you to take in the way his jaw clenched beneath the long tufts of hair on his cheeks.
He ran, barging past Alexei and Walker, slamming the door off it's hinges and heading for the stairs again, as he ascended they got higher and higher, narrowing with each turn until the wood panelling gave way to stone.
"We'll be safe here." The Beast set you down on a large bed, the carved bedposts covered in long deep scratches and the bedsheets tangled in a mess of velvet, brocade and cotton.
"Where are we?"
The narrow windows looked out over a desolate forest, bare trees and quarries, the tumbling of the castle as it fell into the woodland below.
"The tower, we're safe here, you're safe here." He insisted, giving you enough space to look around the room, yet you could still feel him at your back, ready to pounce should he need to protect you.
"What happened to me?"
"Don't worry about that now," he stopped behind you, your back to his chest, and you felt the solid weight of him as he breathed in and out, "I'm here, they can't touch you now." His voice dropped into that same low growl he'd given before.
"Can you though?" You bit your lip at your boldness, but ever since he'd set you down you'd been dying to get back into his arms.
"You want me to touch you?" He moved, dipping his head down to whisper in your ear, his hands, like paws, hovered over your arms.
"Yes. I want you to hold me." You whispered back, trying to step back into his space. But he held your shoulders, keeping you still.
"You don't know what you're asking for, you've seen what I look like…how I am with others. I could've hurt Alexei, I —"
"You'd never hurt me."
"You don't know that. You don't even really know me, you're too delicate —" he leant in again, his nose pressed to the side of your neck, his lips brushing your skin, "a flower, a rose." He kept his hands on your shoulders, but he moved imperceptibly closer to you.
"Roses have their thorns too."
He chuckled.
"So they do, and do you have thorns?" His low purr sent a thrill down your spine and you turned in his grasp, grabbing at his face and pulling him down to kiss you. But he was strong, stopping with his lips hovering above yours, "you don't know what you're doing, little flower, how easily you could be crushed." His tone was teasing, but there was something sad in his eyes too.
"What if I want to be crushed?" You snarled back, gritting your teeth in your best approximation of his own growl.
"Then you're a foolish girl, stop running after monsters." He tried to tug himself away, putting his hands over yours to peel you off him. But you held firm.
"I'm not running after monsters, I'm running after you."
You took him by surprise, lurching up on your toes and fitting your lips to his. They were perfect, soft and plush and they tasted of cinder toffee. Your moan slipped out and he eagerly devoured it, grasping at you and holding you close. His hands explored your back, claws catching on the silk of your dress in their haste to feel every part of you.
Turning your head, you broke the kiss briefly to see his eyes closed, face relaxed. His eyes opened, gaze love struck, and he kissed you on the cheek, "my flower, my rose." His kisses tickled across your cheek to your ear, where his panting breath left goosebumps tingling up and down your spine. He kissed further, his beard softer than you'd expected, when he pressed his face between your breasts. His hands cradled your back, holding you to him as he inhaled deeply.
"I don't want you to get hurt, I can't see you in pain." His words reverberated through your body, your heart clenching at the thought he could ever really hurt you at all.
"I'm not in pain when I'm with you."
It was your turn to make him see, to tug his face up to yours so he could read the undeniable truth of your love in your eyes.
"But I'm hurting without you, take the pain away, please. I know it's you in there and I don't want to be without you anymore."
He hesitated for a moment, and then his hands met the backs of your thighs, lifting you to his body again. He was far too broad for you to truly wrap yourself around him, but you tucked your knees up enough to hang on as he carried you backwards to the bed.
You braced, expecting him to drop you, but instead he turned and lowered himself so that you were seated in his lap. He took your hands in his, engulfing the delicate silk and lace that covered your fingers, and pulled them off slowly, dropping them to the floor. He turned your palm over, stroking his thumb over the thump of your pulse, careful of his claws as they made dimples in your hand and arm.
"Are you really mine?" His voice was a whisper, spoken into your palm.
"Yours. I only want you, I need you, please."
His eyes lifted to yours and then he was kissing you again. Pulling at your clothes roughly and leaving them in silken tatters around you. You tugged at the laces of his shirt, attempting to push it up whole, digging your fingers into the hair of his chest.
The Beast stood again, allowing the remaining tatters of your dress to fall like rain along with his breeches.
In just your shift and with the Beast just in his shirt, he set you down and you paused, breathing heavily.
He went to speak again…
"If you ask me one more time if this is what I really want, I swear to god!" You laughed, tugging on his shirt to bring him closer, this time he came willingly, his mouth quirked up into a familiar half smile, his eyes twinkling.
"Well," he cocked his head to the side, his hair flopping slightly, "if you are sure, come and lay down on the bed."
He took your hand in his, spinning you gracefully in a circle until your knees touched the end of the bed. He dipped you, laying you on the jacquard coverlet. The Beast knelt between your legs, kissing up your ankle and to your trembling knees.
"Please —"
"I know," he speaks only into your skin, reverently making his way up your thighs and between your legs. There's nothing but the hem of your shift stopping him from seeing how wet you are, the knowledge that the cotton is probably sticking to the outline of your folds has you squirming too. "Let me see you."
Though he'd been rough when stripping your dress off, he's gentle now, carefully pushing your shift up, revealling you bit by bit until the embroidered hem is around your waist and his hands are massaging the tops of your thighs.
"Please —" you never knew you could beg so much, you'd never behaved like this in bed before and yet, you'd never been with him before, had resisted imagining what it'd be like to have him between your legs.
In answer he pressed his furred face to your pussy, lapping at your arousal before pressing hard kisses to your clit.
"Oh fuck!" you grab for his hair but end up wrapping your hands around his horns instead, using them as leverage to rock your hips against his mouth and nose.
The horns are smoother than you expected, cool to the touch, and close up you can see intricate gold patterns that circle each one before disappearing into his hair. You tug again and his growl is back, vibrating through your cunt and into your stomach where the coil of your release compresses further. His hands grab at your thighs and hips, one huge paw spread over your lower stomach to keep you pinned to the bed as he licks and sucks and devours you like a man starved.
"Oh god, I can't, I'm gonna —"
"Come then." His voice is rough, his mouth still tracing the shape of his words on your sensitive skin, and you can't hold back, tightening around nothing, the emptiness making you wail until he pushes his thumb into your waiting cunt. The relief, the pressure, stops your orgasm from receding and instead it builds again like a tidal wave, crashing over you while you fight to free yourself from his hold, thrashing and moaning like a wild thing on his bed.
The Beast slowly rises above you to until he reaches his full height, shucking off his shirt and revealing himself to you. The dark hair of his cheeks and arms spread down his chest to where his cock, standing proud amongst darker curls, is thick and weeping with precum. He's larger than you'd expected, fat and veined, and though you know you should put a stop to the insanity of a situation, you find your body doesn't agree.
The Beast grinned as you spread your legs further, and he crawled onto the bed as you moved back towards the pillow.
"You taste as delicious as I imagined," he purred, taking your face in his hand and brushing his shining lips against yours. "Nectar, honey." He murmurs.
Your legs tremble, weak from pleasure and from the wide spread of your knees accommodating him, but he doesn't relent. He leans down further, caging you in the waves of sheets and blankets below so all you can see and feel and hear is him. His deep breaths, his scent, the reassuring weight of him holding you to the mattress.
"My rose."
"Yours."
His kiss isn't rough as much as it is needy, his tongue insistent, head tilted to better control the kiss. His free hand grabs at your leg, hooking it high over his own hip and spreading you wide beneath him.
The head of the Beast's cock notches at your entrance, too broad to slip inside easily, and you respond with a slow roll of your hips, rubbing your slick down the length of him as you move. You're rewarded with a grunt and the twitch of his hand on your hip, holding you closer, angling your body to his.
"I can't resist you any longer, once I've had you, you can never go." The Beast growls his oath and you're too weak, too gone for him to do anything put kiss him again, hoping that all you feel in return is expressed with the press of your lips.
The Beast tugs again, sliding you onto his cock rather than pushing in himself, and the sensation of being so thoroughly held and controlled has you gushing around his cock, easing his entrance.
The fat head dips inside, making way for his length inch by glorious inch, forcing a wail of painful pleasure from somewhere deep within your chest.
"You're so — so —" your words come out stuttered, eyes squeezing shut, but he continues, pulling back only to thrust further forwards on his return, feeding you his cock in slow, measured moments. "I knew you'd be gentle with me." You choke out, feeling the brush of his fur against your clit and looking down to see him buried to the hilt inside.
The Beast rests his forehead on the pillow beside you, harsh panting breaths belying his desire. "I wouldn't want to break you— on our first round." He admits, voice full of promise.
And then he's rising, taking the weight of his body on one arm, the better to keep his other hand on your face, your chest, your neck, as he begins to speed up his pace. His cock is so deep you're sure you can feel it in your belly, each drag of his cock has you pulsing around him, the very veins throbbing against your walls.
There's no sound you can make, no air in your lungs, that isn't granted by him, he surrounds you, leaving you with nothing but punched out noises between ragged intakes of breath.
"You feel so fucking good squeezing me like this, soft as a petal inside and out aren't you." His hand cups your breast, your nipple barely visible between his fingers and aching for his rough touch. His hands feel calloused, but when he pulls back you see there are pads on his palms and finger tips.
With a feral grin he licks his thumb, tongue bright pink against the dark brown of his fur, before swiping it over your puckered nipple.
"Oh god!" Your hands fly out, grabbing at his arms, his horns, and he lets you, his grin is lopsided, following the drag of his horn as you pull him in for a crushing kiss.
"That's it —" he moans against your tongue, "take what's yours, little flower, I'm yours."
And for a second you believe you could actually be change, until his hand leaves your nipple and circles your throat, so large your chin is forced back, eyes rolling open to see him towering over you. Your legs are spread, one over his hip and the other now pushed up to your chest, allowing him to drive himself deeper. He's barely moving, grinding himself inside as your mind searches for clarity, eyes hazy, a momentary panic that has your pulse fluttering and then — air.
His hand drops, you heave in a breath and your pussy clamps down on his cock, your orgasm racing through your veins and making your muscles tense while you pulse around him.
"So beautiful when you come, my rose, in bloom, her petals spread for me." He watches, awed, while your legs twitch, but he doesn't relent his rhythmic grinding. "But I did warn you, now I've tasted you, felt you, I could never let you go."
You draw a deep, shaky breath and he holds your hips tightly, but the moment doesn't last. One minute you're on your back, enjoying a romantic moment, the next you're on your front, one leg bent and the other sprawled behind you, the Beast's body covering yours completely.
You thought he might have come at the same time as you, the tickle of arousal on your thigh surely can't all belong to you, yet his cock sits heavy on the small of your back, sticky and solid and you need it inside of you right now.
Despite your exhaustion, you cant your hips up to meet his and he rewards you with a growl so deep you can feel it all over your body. It's hot beneath his body, his legs and arms covering you.
"I told you, if I had you once, I'd never be able to let you go."
His cock slides in easier this time, you're more prepared for the deep stretch of him, but the position makes him feel so much bigger. The rounded head of his cock brushes over your walls, pushing deep inside until you're sure you'd be able to see the outline of his cock in your belly.
Maybe you can try it next time, maybe he really will keep you here, maybe everything is going to be okay.
The thrill of it builds inside of you, alongside a rush of emotion that this is where you have always wanted to be. In his space, his bed, to be his.
You reach a hand back just to feel him there behind you, and he presses kisses to your back, working down your spine as he grinds into you, barely leaving the silky warmth of your pussy.
"I could stay here forever, my beautiful rose."
He rests his arms beside you, his cheek on yours, and all you know is your mingled moans and panting breath as he lifts off you, limbs trembling.
"Come for me again, let me feel that cunt of yours milking me while I fill you."
You bit your arm as your orgasm builds and he pushes a hand between you to cup your pussy, his palm so large his fingers spread around your lips, squeezing his sopping length and exposing your throbbing clit to the friction of the sheets below you as he continues to fuck you in deep, piercing, thrusts. The pad of his palm is rough but it's the perfect friction for you to rub against, crying out in ecstasy as you clamp down on him once again, leaving a messy puddle on the sheets.
The Beast pulls his hand away and you shout out, only for him to hold your hips still, one hand on the small of your back, keeping the pressure on your clit and lower stomach while he paints you with rope after rope of cum.
Just when you think it can never end he drags himself away with a sigh, falling to your side and panting heavily.
You cuddle closer, an arm and a leg thrown over him, matting the fur with your arousal in the process. But he's so soft and welcoming, his heartbeat steady beneath your ear, that you can't care about anything else.
"I thought —" he starts, a rumble in his chest.
"Was it not good? Did you not enjoy it?" Panic rises in your own, you just had the most mind blowing sex of your life and he didn't even enjoy it. Tears well but he cups your cheek instead.
"I just thought, after, I'd be me again. Not a monster." His eyes are full of unshed tears, trapped behind the facade he's built for himself. His jaw is set, but you kiss it anyway, hoping to relieve the tension.
"You were never a monster to me." You sigh, kissing his cheek, running a finger down his horns, and falling into a deep sleep, curled around your very own Beast.
There's a steady beep that Bucky can hear even when he's not in the room. It gets louder and louder as he paces back down the corridor, coffee in hand. He wouldn't have left at all, only the machine in the corridor is terrible and he needed something stronger. Two shots won't do. This a four shots night if ever there was one.
He pushes open the door and there you are, still, bandage around your head, endless tubes and machines and monitors strung around you.
Yelena and Bob look up, they've been playing a game again, Uno, your hand is layed out beside you and they appear to be taking it in turns to make plays for you.
"You're back, I thought you were going to get a shower?"
Bob moves over and lets Bucky sit in his seat, the one next to your left hand where there are no IV tubes, no monitors. He takes your fingers and kisses them, then lets them go. He knows he shouldn't be touching you, kissing you, when you haven't done any of that with you awake. But he needs you to know he's here and the thought that, maybe, he might never get you feel you kiss him back, has him worried.
"Couldn't stay away, I need to be here."
"It was not your fault, Bucky." Yelena says sincerely.
"It was, I got angry, instead of thinking, and she got hurt because of me." He feels angry again, some desperate, violent, part of him can't even stand to be here, he needs to track down those Serpent agents and end them. Preferably slowly and over a few days. It's a part of himself he hasn't felt for a long time.
The cards in his hands crumple.
"Bucky," Bob moves the cards away and offers his own hand instead. He's too kind, Bob, too breakable too, when he's not Sentry. So Bucky declines and turns to you instead. You face is relaxed, your tactical gear, covered in blood, is thrown over a set of drawers in the corner, but he can still see you as you were before it happened.
He can still see you running towards him, shouting about being chased. He should've got you out of there, should've just left. But the idea of leaving anyone who'd scared you to walk free was unthinkable. He went back, and that's when the bullet had hit the stonework, knocking it loose, and knocking you down with it.
"If I wasn't so…angry, if this monster inside of me would fuck off."
Bucky bent his head to rest it against your sheets.
"Take a minute." Bob said and he gathered the cards and ushered Yelena out.
Bucky lay there, wallowing in his own anger and shame, missing the flickering of your eyelids.
Your voice is hoarse when you try and speak, dry and scratchy and there's something down your nose that makes you want to throw up.
"Buh—" his name won't form in your mouth, your tongue dry, your mind a whirlwind. Why where you on the medical floor? Where had the bed gone? The castle? The Beast. You'd heard familiar voices, Yelena and Bob, and Bucky's plaintive voice as he chastised himself.
The Beast. Gone. The solid comfort of his body was gone, it was your own arm weighing you down and — you opened your eyes. There was a metal arm thrown over your hips and a mop of brown hair, grown longer since you'd all moved to the tower.
"Buhh—" you tried again, flexing your hand and nudging his cheek.
Bucky looked up, his face wet with tears, "you're awake, oh shit — you're actually awake, I need to call the nurse or something." He ran a hand through his hair, leaving it in messy waves.
"Buck—"
"Don't speak, petal, just let the nurse check you." He cupped his hands to your cheeks, his palms so large you thought you'd disappear beneath them. He'd never held you like this, but there was something so familiar about the roughness of his callouses, about the way the word petal dripped off his tongue.
"Bucky," you whispered again, really looking at him, and there it was, the flicker of something in his eyes, like chipped ice, but so full of love and longing. There he was, not a monster like he thought. Just your Beast.
"Yes…" his eyes were wild, searching for anything to make you feel better. "What do you need? I can get the nurse? Do you need medication?"
"I don't want medication, I don't need the nurse." You sighed softly, he'd never held you like this, never shown how much he cared, though you'd wondered often enough.
An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works
Chapters: 2/2
Fandom: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Captain America (Chris Evans Movies)
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Relationships: James “Bucky” Barnes/Steve Rogers
Characters: James “Bucky” Barnes, Steve Rogers
Additional Tags: Canon Related, Established Relationship, Bottom Steve Rogers, Oral Sex, Anal Fingering, Anal Play, Aphrodisiacs, Multiple Orgasms, Dildos, Vibrators, Shibari, Anal Sex
Summary: After enjoying an aphrodisiacal meal, Bucky and Steve plan a sexy evening. Bucky gets Steve off with his mouth and fingers, but that’s just the beginning.
Chapter Two: Bucky fills Steve up on both ends; then ties him up before giving him what they both really want.
This is my fill for @buckybarnesevents Hot Bucky Summer: Week 11 “You look good like this.”| [Marked Up | Tied Down | Ruined] and my @fandom-free-bingo May Madness : Alt1 - Shibari square
I'll be your disaster if you'll be mine - Chapter 2
AN: Roll up for week 11 of Hot Bucky Summer by @buckybarnesevents (because surely it’s still Saturday somewhere?), and more cracky WinterHawk. The prompt for this week is 'You look good like this'. Catch up on part one here.
This chapter is unbeta’d so please excuse any errors.
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Summary: It was therefore inevitable that he slipped. And because Clint never did anything the easy way, especially if there were sixteen other hard ways of doing something, it was while he was on the cargo net. Anyone else who’d slipped would have just had their foot go through one of the gaps and ended up with some aching nuts and rope burn for their trouble, but not him. Somehow he got so twisted up in the ropes that he ended up dangling about two and half feet off the floor, knees up by his ears, unable to move either arm or either leg.
“Aaww, ropes, no,” he whined out into the empty room, followed by “A little help, JARV?”
Relationship: Bucky Barnes x Clint Barton
Word Count: 1.9k
CW: Crack, Humour, Banter, Doofuses, Disaster Gays, background Stony, Background SamNat, JARVIS is so done, Clint is a simp for Bucky, Smut (Top Bucky, Bottom Clint, Accidental/Imporvised Bondage, blink and you miss it knife play, Wet and Messy, Public Sex (although no-one except an AI is watching)
The mood that lay over the tower was one of low-level suspicion. There was no big threat that the team was waiting for, or any threat at all really. No, the team was worried because it had been a few weeks since any of them had been mentally scarred by Clint and Bucky’s lack of shame, so something definitely felt… imminent.
No-one was dropping their guard.
“I think it’s more luck than anything else,” Sam said as he stirred a pot of gumbo in the kitchen. “But they better stay away from this kitchen.” This was his Meemaw’s recipe and there was no way he was going to muck it up and have her ghost levitate all the way up from Louisiana just to cuss him out.
“Yeah, definitely luck” Steve agreed. “But I’m not going to get complacent. The last time I did I found them playing ‘find the soap’ in the gym locker room. Almost got my eye taken out and ended up walking into the lockers trying not to see any more than I already had. And don’t forget it’s worse for me – eidetic memory and all.”
From her perch on the counter, Nat rolled her eyes and snaffled another piece of bell pepper from the chopping board. “So dramatic Steve. Tony must be rubbing off on you.” Her neat white teeth bit into the vegetable with a crunch.
Sam let out a snigger at her double entendre, while Steve just scowled. “Ha-ha, Nat. Very funny. However, for the sake of all our sanity, I’m going to ask a higher power. JARVIS?”
“Yes, Captain?”
“Where are Bucky and Clint? Please tell me they have their pants on?”
“I can confirm that Mr Barton and Mr Barnes are still both fully clothed. The former is in the gym, while the latter is down on the gun-range.”
“See,” Nat chided. “We’re perfectly safe.”
“For now, Nat,” Steve hissed as though she’d just cursed them. “For now! Don’t tempt fate.”
No-one knew just how correct Steve was.
Down in the gym, Clint was happily taking advantage of the fact that he was the only one there. He was climbing up and down over the various obstacle blocks and rigging, loosing off dummy arrows at targets that JARVIS was projecting onto various surfaces. It was the best way to keep his skills sharp, but was hard to do if the others were around – folk tended to get annoyed if he accidentally hit them. Although that might be because they all knew that there was no ‘accidentally’.
He’d been going at it for some time and, feeling confident, he was ignoring the signs of fatigue. It was therefore inevitable that he slipped. And because Clint never did anything the easy way, especially if there were sixteen other hard ways of doing something, it was while he was on the cargo net. Anyone else who’d slipped would have just had their foot go through one of the gaps and ended up with some aching nuts and rope burn for their trouble, but not him. Somehow he got so twisted up in the ropes that he ended up dangling about two and half feet off the floor, knees up by his ears, unable to move either arm or either leg.
“Aaww, ropes, no,” he whined out into the empty room, followed by “A little help, JARV?”
Down on the gun range, the tower AI interrupted Bucky’s target practice.
“Mr Barnes? I regret to inform you that Mr Barton has had an accident, up in the gym. He requires assistance.”
The plummy English voice hadn’t even finished before Bucky was holstering his gun and running up the stairs two at a time. JARVIS didn’t bother to remind him that the elevator would have been quicker. Bursting through the doors, Bucky’s worry at what he might find evaporated as he quickly assessed the scene before him. He skidded to a halt and an amused grin split his face.
Clint looked up as Bucky’s shoes squeaked across the floor, and saw the predatory look on his boyfriend’s face. This would either bode well for him, or not, or both. If he was a betting man, he’d go with the latter option.
“Well, what do we have here? A bird caught in a net?” Bucky unsheathed a knife from his boot and flipped it end over end in the air as he sauntered forward.
“Ha fucking ha. Get me down, will ya?” Clint griped.
Bucky stopped in front of him, still grinning slyly and gave him a small shove, and Clint felt a flash of concern at the way his boyfriend watched him sway in the ropes like he was on a swing. The tip of Bucky’s tongue peeked out from between his pink lips.
“Not just yet,” he responded, his tone only marginally menacing. “You look good like this.” He reached out with his knife and with just a few deft flicks not only was Clint’s shirt in shreds, he could also feel cold air on his ass.
Did Bucky just slit the back of his pants? And his underwear?
He didn’t have long to think on it more as Bucky closed in further, standing flush between his tangled thighs and oh! Bucky groin was pressing up against his revealed flesh.
Now,” he said with a snap of his hips that thrust against Clint and set him swinging again, “I know it’s not what we normally do, but I have been known to pitch on occasion. You feel like catching?”
It took a few seconds for Clint’s brain to process what Bucky was asking, but as soon as he had, he began to squirm in his bonds, his face and neck flushing and the remains of his pants feeling too tight.
“I can do that,” he breathed out, “but we might need some–”
Bucky raised an eyebrow and pulled three travel sachets of lube from one of his many pockets. He ripped one open with his teeth and dumped it over the finger of his right hand.
“You were practising with your pistol. Why do you even have lube?” Clint squawked as cold, sticky fingers rubbed over his hole, and Bucky chuckled.
“Because, baby, I can’t rely on you having lube available every time I want to get fucked. Are you complaining?” He pressed a wet finger in and started to twist it, smearing the lube inside Clint’s channel.
“No! Nope! Absolutely not. No complaints here. But you are gonna do this bit properly, aren’t you? You know, cause, I’m not as used to it as you and I don’t have your healing factor, and oh God!
The addition of Bucky’s second finger made something short-circuit inside of him and then, just to make it worse – better? –, Bucky’s left hand came up to where his nipples were framed by his shredded purple shirt so that his cool, solid fingers could tweak each one in turn.
“Buck!” he choked out.
“Don’t worry,” Bucky crooned, “gonna take good care of you, baby.”
Clint’s cock was straining against the zipper of his pants which was ironically the only part of them that appeared to still be intact. There was no doubt that he wanted this. Yes he normally topped, but that was mainly due to the fact that Bucky preferred to bottom, and Clint’s mantra was ‘whatever Bucky wants, Bucky gets’. Therefore, if Bucky wanted to fuck him this way, then Clint was a-okay with it.
He’d fully admit he was a simp. What was more surprising to him was that more other people weren’t. There was something about Bucky that just made Clint want to be good for him. He wanted to make his boyfriend smile and giggle, and all those other things Bucky thought he’d lost because of HYDRA. Yeah, so he’d take a fucking. He’d done it before and he’d happily do it again, knowing he’d enjoy it, and not because he was ‘doing it for Bucky’. Well, not just because of that.
He was pulled back from his thoughts as Bucky scissored his fingers, holding his hole open wide and squirting the lube from the second sachet right into him.
“Jesus, fuck, Bucky! That’s cold!” His voice warbled up an octave as Bucky added a third finger, mid-gripe, before tailing off into a salacious moan.
“You like that, huh? Here I was thinking I was the size queen.” Bucky’s fingers twisted and stretched him, every so often brushing his prostate but only enough to tease. “Hhnnnggg,” was the only noise he could make under Bucky’s ministrations, and when those sticky fingers were dragged from his body, he felt bereft and empty. He realised that his head had lolled back against the ropes and he lifted it to see Bucky, eyes twinkling, slathering the lube from the third sachet over his thick cock. Seeing just how wet and messy Bucky was intending this fuck to be made Clint’s hole twitch in anticipation. The fact that Bucky had also only lowered his pants enough to free himself, but was otherwise fully clothed was also doing something to Clint. Apparently that was another kink to add to the list.
“You ready for me, baby?” Bucky asked, leaning his slippering cock right up against Clint’s equally slippery ass.
“Yeah,” he replied breathlessly, his whole body trembling in anticipation.
Bucky pressed the head of his cock right against Clint’s entrance, applying only the smallest amount of pressure before stopping. “You remember how this goes, right?”
Clint let out a cry of frustration and wiggled in his accidental bonds. “Just fuck me, Barnes!”
With a smirk, Bucky did.
He pushed in hard and fast and Clint swore he could feel it in his throat, as if it was Bucky’s dick that was pushing the noises from him. If he sounded like a cheap whore he didn’t care. Then there were the ropes, the things that had gotten him in this predicament in the first place. It turned out they made an effective, makeshift sex swing. It was only after the first few thrusts that Clint realised that Bucky was actually standing still, just snapping his hips to send Clint back and forth. Each return movement led to Clint being jabbed straight in the prostate and the almost overwhelming stimulation set Clint babbling. He knew he was making sounds, but he was no longer in control of what they were.
“Feels good, don’t it baby?” Bucky cooed “But think how much better it’s gonna be once I’ve come in you the first time and everything’s so much more wet and slippery.”
Clint almost came in his pants then and there, just thinking about it.
“Oh fuck!”
Upstairs in the common room, Sam was dishing up the fragrant southern staple over piles of steaming rice while Nat set the table and Steve looked on hungrily.
His eyes darted towards the door and back to the empty space at his side as his stomach rumbled. “Do you think we ought to wait–”
At that moment Tony came through the door, a skip in his step. He pressed a kiss to Steve’s cheek. “Better close that pretty mouth, Steve. You’ll be catching flies otherwise.” He then turned towards the kitchen counter, rubbing his hands with glee. “And I see I’m right on time. Looks and smells delicious, Superwings.” He reached out for a bowl and then settled down at the table. “Come on, Steve,” he chided. “Don’t let it go cold.”
Steve opened his mouth again to protest, but thought better of it and grabbed his own serving. He weaved around Sam and Nat as they made their own way to the table.
“Right, Bruce is out for the evening, so we’re only missing Birdbrain and the Cyborg– what?” He looked around at the glare from Steve. “I say it with love. Anyway, JARV?”
“Yes, sir?”
“Where are the two who shall not be named? They’re going to be late for dinner.”
“I’m afraid, sir, that they are in the gym and despite the fact that both are still technically dressed, I’ve had to invoke the ‘Sans Pants Protocol’.”
Steve’s spoon clattered to the table as he looked up at the ceiling.
“Additionally,” the AI continued, “I’ve arranged for a new cargo net to be installed.”
“What on Earth?” Steve exclaimed, his face going red.
“I can assure you, Captain, you don’t want to know. As soon as they… finish I will be deleting it all from my memory banks. Enjoy your meal.”
For some reason, no-one except Nat still had any appetite. As the others stared at the way she was putting away the food, she looked up. “What? If I stopped eating every time I saw or heard something mildly traumatising I’d have starved to death twenty years ago.”
The others did have to admit she had a point. It didn’t help them though.
tag list: @km-ffluv, @wheezy-stucky, @kmc1989, @kombatfather1796
pairing: neighbor!stalker!bucky barnes x female reader
summary: you never should've trusted your neighbor with a key to your apartment...
warnings: 18+ content (minors dni!!!), dark themes and elements, stalking, stockholm syndrome, smut, nonconsensual bondage, dubious consent, panty stealing/sniffing, panty gag, oral sex (f receiving), vaginal fingering, marking with hickeys, piv sex, unprotected sex, possessive sex, creampie, orgasm edging, choking, tit and nipple play, finger sucking, teasing, dirty talk, Bucky has a degradation kink, praise kink, pet names (doll, sweet girl, baby), aftercare, happy ending—let me know if i missed something!
word count: 5.9k
a/n: for week 11 of @buckybarnesevents's Hot Bucky Summer, i had an idea for a soft dark!Bucky and y'all voted for him to be a stalker, so here we go!!! the little horny goblin in me took over on this one and this fic is pretty much just pure smut, so if the character stuff doesn't make sense (like if the reader makes choices that aren't fully earned) let's just go with it, ok!!! ok great, hope y'all enjoy!! ♡
prompt: "You look good like this." | [Marked Up | Tied Down | Ruined]
Hot Bucky Summer 2025 masterlist
You never should’ve trusted your neighbor, Bucky Barnes.
You’d known from the moment you met him that he was too charming for his own good, too handsome for you to think rationally, and too earnest about knowing you for it to be normal.
He was, to put it simply, too good to be true.
With the benefit of hindsight, you could see the red flags—the way his eyes lit up with a feverish glint whenever you revealed something about yourself. At the time, though, you’d just felt flattered by his interest, that a man as good-looking as him cared so much to learn everything he could about you.
It had made butterflies take flight in your belly whenever Bucky’s attention was fixed solely on you, his blue eyes sparkling and so gorgeous you could get lost in them. It had made your heart soar whenever he was in the hallway or on the stairs at the same time as you, which happened more and more often the longer you lived in the building.
It had felt like fate, like you and Bucky were destined to be together. It seemed like it was only a matter of time before he’d make a move, but you never expected the move he ultimately made.
That was because you never would’ve guessed your charming, handsome, earnest neighbor was also your stalker. You never would’ve guessed that Bucky was monitoring your comings and goings and figuring out your schedule so he could purposefully run into you.
In a million years, you never would’ve guessed that Bucky was using the spare key you’d given him to watch your plants while you were away to slip into your apartment when you were at work and steal your dirty panties. You had no idea he’d use that same key to let himself into your place and lay in wait for you to get home one night…
“You look good like this.”
Bucky Barnes was grinning shamelessly as he said those words, a dark glint in his icy blue eyes. His gaze was hungry, almost starved, as it raked over your prone, naked form.
He’d surprised you in the dark of your apartment, lunging out of a shadowy corner when you’d entered your pitch-black bedroom, coming home late from work on the same night of the week you always did. If you’d had the presence of mind, you might’ve cursed yourself for maintaining such a consistent schedule.
Bucky was strong—stronger than you expected—and you were no match for the way his thick arms banded around your body. He’d quickly clapped a hand over your mouth, preventing you from screaming for help. You’d fought, squirming and kicking in his arms, but it had done nothing except tire you out.
Before he’d started the process of undressing you and tying you up, Bucky had shoved a pair of panties in your mouth. You were so distracted by the way Bucky was tearing through your clothes that it took a while for you to realize the fabric in your mouth was soiled with more than your own natural fluids.
There was a salty, unfamiliar musk that seeped into your tongue. When you realized what you were tasting, and what it meant—that Bucky had jerked off into your dirty panties and you were tasting his cum—you went silent, too stunned to fight back anymore.
Warmth curled low in your belly, a pulse of desire throbbing between your thighs, even as your mind reeled. You refused to admit, even to yourself, that you liked the taste of Bucky’s cum. You refused to get off to the idea of Bucky wanting you so badly, he’d used your panties to bring himself pleasure.
With your limbs pliant and your mind distracted by fighting against your body’s responses to Bucky’s taste, your neighbor was able to move you how he wanted to. By the time he’d flicked on the light on your bedside table and climbed onto your bed to join you, you were thoroughly tied down.
Your body was bare, your wrists bound in thick cuffs and laying on the pillows above your head, the chain attached to your headboard. Meanwhile, your legs were spread as wide as they could go, your ankles secured with similarly thick cuffs, holding you open, putting you entirely on display for the hungry eyes of your neighbor, your stalker.
For the final touch, Bucky yanked the panties from your mouth, tossing them down to the foot of the bed, forgotten. He sat back on his haunches, his eyes raking greedily over every inch of your exposed skin while he kneeled between your spread thighs.
You tried to struggle, to see if there was any give in the restraints Bucky had strapped you down in, but there was nothing you could do. You were entirely at his mercy…
Your pussy gave an eager pulse at the thought, and you immediately ignored your body’s response, glaring up at the man you thought you could trust.
“Fuck you.”
You hissed the words with as much venom as you could muster, your body trembling with rage—and something else you didn’t want to name.
A wicked smile spread slowly across Bucky’s handsome face, and his blue eyes sparkled brighter. They were lit with a look that promised dark and depraved things were in store for you.
Interest pulsed in your core and you could feel the first signs of gathering desire trickle down to your slit, but your glare never wavered.
“Aw don’t be like that, doll,” Bucky chastised you lightly, smoothing his palm down your inner thigh, as if trying to soothe you. A shudder wracked through your body with what you told yourself was disgust. “You’re going to enjoy this—I’ll make sure of it.”
“Never—I’ll never enjoy anything you do to me,” you hissed, refusing to acknowledge the way your body was warming to his touch. “You’re sick, you’re depraved, you’re a filthy pervert!”
Bucky groaned, his eyes sliding closed and his free hand gripping the thick, twitching bulge in his pants. “Fuck, doll, keep talking—you’re making me so fucking hard right now.”
Despite your better judgement, your eyes dropped to his lap and you felt a thrum of arousal flutter through your core when you saw how big and hard he was. He looked like he could fill you up real good and, if he knew how to use it, give you the type of hard fucking you craved.
“Yeah, you like that, don’t you, sweet girl?” Bucky cooed, his voice taunting as he stroked himself through his pants. “You like the sight of my fat cock all thick and rock hard for you, huh? Bet it makes your pretty pussy leak for me—bet this slutty hole wants me to fill ‘er up,” he said, his thumb skimming close to where you craved his touch.
Biting back a wanton mewl, you glared up at Bucky from your prone position on the bed. Through sheer determination, you managed to keep the desire out of your expression and ignored the way wetness gathered and began dripping from your slit.
“It doesn’t make me leak for you,” you spit out through gritted teeth, seething with fury. Anger and shame burned through your blood, knowing you weren’t telling the truth, but you remained spitefully resolute not to give you stalker what he wanted.
A low, filthy chuckle rumbled in Bucky’s chest, spilling from his perfect pink mouth and washing over your body in pure pleasure. The sound was so patronizing, your inner muscles clenched pathetically around nothing and you had to stifle another pitiful whimper.
“I can see that you’re lying, doll,” Bucky said, his hand skimming further down your thigh until his thumb brushed against your lower lips. You sucked in a sharp breath, and tried to shift away from his touch, but you were tied down too well.
Oh so gently, Bucky ran the pad of his thumb up and down your slit, dipping just a tiny bit between your folds. The touch was so teasing, a whine worked its way up your throat, but you managed to bite it back at the last second.
Then, he held up his thumb so that you could see it glisten in the soft, golden lamplight of your room. It was clear as day that what you’d said about not leaking for him was a lie—you were wet for him. The evidence was right in front of you. You were wet for your stalker.
“You can tell me you don’t want this, that you could never enjoy the touch of a filthy pervert,” Bucky began, playing with the wetness on his fingers before dropping his hand back to your mound and gathering even more of your juices. “But you’re a damn, dirty liar, doll. And by the time I’m done with you, you’re gonna know that we’re perfect for each other.”
Rage, shame and desire bubbled in your throat, making it difficult to speak, but you managed to spit out, “Never.”
Before you could get the rest of your words out, though, they died on your tongue. They were lost to the sight of Bucky popping his thumb into his mouth, his eyes sliding closed with sinful satisfaction as he licked the taste of you from his skin.
You felt your traitorous slit drip a little more as you watched the far too erotic sight of your stalker tasting you for the first time.
Bucky groaned, low in his throat, and your pussy trembled, begging for more of his touch. Something inside you cracked, and suddenly you couldn’t do it anymore—you couldn’t ignore the way desire was rushing through your blood. Your need was an insistent throb, hot and heavy, between your spread thighs.
A whimper slipped from your lips unbidden and Bucky’s eyes flew open. Pulling his thumb from his mouth with a soft popping sound, he pinned you to the bed with his gaze just as surely as he’d used cuffs and chains to tie you down.
His eyes were dark, and promised untold pleasure, but you were sure that if you gave in, it would mean selling your soul to the devil.
Your desires were a tangled mess behind your ribs, your need for Bucky warring with your determination not to give in. He was your stalker. He was your downfall, not your salvation. You had to stay strong, now matter how much you wanted to succumb to him.
Bucky watched the conflicting thoughts and emotions flicker across your face, reading you like a book, and a slow smile spread across his face. He shifted closer to you on the bed, until your thighs were propped up on his, the lap of his pants close enough to your core that you clenched with need.
“Here’s how this is going to go, sweet girl,” Bucky started, so much confidence and authority in his voice that it settled something inside you. And when his hand skimmed down your thigh in a soothing gesture, your muscles relaxed slightly. “I’m going to ruin you.”
A gasp caught in your throat and Bucky paused, as if waiting for you to protest. When you didn’t immediately speak up, his grin widened and he squeezed your thigh in encouragement before going on.
“I’m going to ruin you so good, you’ll never want anyone but me, and you’re going to thank me for it,” Bucky rumbled, his gaze fixed on yours. “You’re going to promise you’ll be mine from this day forward. Forever. Do you understand me?”
You were already shaking your head before Bucky had even finished speaking, a challenge on the tip of your tongue. It was too much, he asked for too much. But…
A part of you yearned for what he promised. Your heart pounded hard in your chest because deep down, you wanted someone to own you in the way Bucky promised.
Your neighbor might be more than a little unhinged, but it was intoxicating to have his devotion laid bare at your feet.
The words you’d thought to voice turned to ash on your tongue, and Bucky’s grin hitched higher on his handsome face, turning almost feral.
Leaning forward in a flash of movement, his hand wrapped around your throat, fingers digging into the sides of your neck just enough for your breath to catch in your throat.
His blue eyes were sparkling with depraved desire as they raked over your face.
“Do I need to gag you again, doll?” he asked darkly, the promise of a threat in his tone. “Or are you going to be a good girl for me and let me destroy that stubborn resolve of yours so we can be together?”
A not-so-small part of you wanted him to put the soiled panties back in your mouth as a gag, just so you could get another taste of him. That shocked you so much, and you were so tired of fighting, that when your lips parted to give Bucky your answer, what came out was a meek, “I’ll be good.”
The change in Bucky’s expression in response to your words was instantaneous, like the sun breaking through the clouds, and you were reminded all over again of just how devastatingly handsome your neighbor was.
His gorgeous blue eyes softened with something like sweet affection as he stared at you, a smile tugging on the edges of his perfect, pink lips. His mouth was framed by dark scruff, which gave him just enough of a rugged look to offset the beauty of his face.
The way Bucky looked at you then, like you’d given him the most precious gift, damn near stole all the breath from your lungs.
“That’s my girl,” he murmured, ducking down and pressing a kiss to the corner of your mouth. You sucked in a surprised breath, the potent scent of his cologne going straight to your head, and felt his smile against your cheek.
Then, he kissed you properly.
You were shocked by how gentle Bucky was. After he’d captured you in the dark, tied you up, and talked about ruining you, his kiss was astonishingly soft, his lips exploring you and coaxing you to kiss him back. His tongue slid tenderly along your lower lip, seeking entrance, and it was all too easy to give in.
You let yourself get swept away in the sweetness of Bucky’s kiss, the tang of your desire on his tongue adding an indescribable filthiness that offset the softness of his lips. Slowly, you opened up beneath him, the walls around your heart beginning to crumble as lust rushed in.
When Bucky finally pulled away, you lay there stunned, your lips parted and swollen from the rasp of his stubble. You blinked slowly, trying to reorient yourself.
Your eyes were a little unfocused, and the sight of your stalker looming over you was softened around the edges. If it weren’t for the fervent glint in his eyes, he might’ve looked sweet.
“That’s a good doll,” Bucky cooed, ducking down to press a kiss to the underside of your jaw.
He trailed more kisses down to your heaving chest, pressing his mouth firmly over the spot where your heart was racing beneath your sternum. He looked up, catching your eye and grinning at you while his hand cupped one of your tits, his thumb brushing teasingly over your hardened nipple.
“All ya gotta do is lay there and let me play with you,” he murmured, pinching your nipple and wringing a little cry from your lips that had his grin widening. “I’ve waited so long for this,” he said, almost as if to himself.
Bucky’s gaze was greedy as it raked over your bare chest, flicking between your tits and your face, watching your reactions as he teased your nipples and groped your soft flesh.
You were so distracted by the bolts of pleasure thrumming through your body, you almost missed the contemplative look on his face. But his next words brought you back to the moment.
“Now, where should my first mark go?”
The word ‘mark’ finally snapped you from the daze you’d fallen into, and all your muscles tensed again. Your eyes sharpened and stared at the looming form of your neighbor as he hunched over your body, his eyes roaming your skin as if he was looking for something.
“Ma-mark?” The word came out in a breathless whisper, but instead of fear tinging your tone, there was only an eager interest that surprised you.
Bucky looked up, meeting your gaze, his mouth curving into a shameless grin that had a note of pride in it. “That wasn’t an immediate protest—have you decided not to fight me anymore, doll?” he asked, his tone teasing.
You didn’t want to answer that question, because you hadn’t decided anything yet. At least, you didn’t think you had. So you just watched him, your lips pressed into a thin line.
But Bucky didn’t seem deterred by your lack of answer. If anything, he seemed to take it as if you agreed you weren’t going to fight him anymore, and he let his gaze drift back to his perusal of your chest.
“I”m gonna mark up your pretty body, sweet girl,” Bucky explained, flashing a grin when you let out a helpless whimper. “Gonna take my time leaving hickeys all over your body—they’re gonna remind you that you belong to me now.”
You squirmed, your hips writhing on the bed and your arms and legs pulling on the cuffs restraining you. At first, you assumed your body’s reaction was disgust, that you were trying to get away from Bucky, but your pussy pulsed with need, and you realized you liked the idea of Bucky marking you up.
In your chest, your heart was pounding against your ribs, and what you felt wasn’t horror or distate, it was excitement.
Bucky watched your face closely, his blue eyes sparkling with sinful perception, and he lowered his mouth to the top of one of your tits. Your stalker held your gaze as his lips latched onto your soft flesh, sucking and working your skin with his mouth and teeth.
Warm throbs of pleasure curled low in your belly with every pull of his mouth, and it took every ounce of strength in your body to keep your lips pressed closed. You didn’t want him to see any of the pleasure you were feeling from his sweet torture.
But that seemed to only spur him on. He doubled his efforts, sucking a hickey into your skin until, when he pulled away, there was a dark shadow of a bruise on the swell of your brest. Your jaw dropped, your slit throbbed, and when your gaze slid to Bucky’s, his grin was unrepentant.
“Don’t give me that look, doll,” he scolded lightly, pressing a kiss to the newly formed bruise. “You’re mine—forever—and you’re going to understand that. Even if I have to mark up every inch of this gorgeous body.”
His hands skimmed up your sides, stroking over your soft skin before cupping your tits in his big palms. He buried his face in them for a moment, groaning with barely contained lust before looking up and catching your eye.
“I promised to ruin you, sweet girl, and that’s exactly what I’m going to do.”
And Bucky Barnes was a man of his word.
He took you apart piece by piece, breaking you down and stripping you even more bare than you already were with his mouth and his teeth and his tongue. He sucked marks into your skin until they littered your chest like stars in the night sky.
It wasn’t until he finally made his way down to your soft belly that something inside you broke, and you let out a low, lewd moan. Your head was swimming in pleasure and desire, and you finally gave up all pretense that you didn’t want this man. This man who was your stalker.
“That’s it, sweet girl, that’s a good doll, moan for me,” Bucky rumbled before sucking another mark into your hip. “Let me hear how much you’re enjoying my mouth on you, how much you’re enjoying me marking you.” He sank his teeth into your hip bone, making you cry out and pull on the restraints.
Your entire body was trembling from need and desire, your chest heaving with panting breaths, your mind dizzy with pleasure and weakened resolve. By the time Bucky’s mouth made it to your pussy, you were a pitiful mess, desperate for him to lick you or fuck your or do anything to sate the hunger in your core.
He pressed the flat of his tongue to the seam of your cunt and dragged it up your soft folds, groaning when he tasted you straight from the source. A shiver raced down your spine at the deep, pleasured sound muffled against your damp skin.
You couldn’t help but watch with wonder in your gaze as he nuzzled his stubbled jaw into your warm, slick, swollen folds. His eyes were burning with blue fire when they flicked up to meet yours, a depraved, feral grin curving his sinful mouth.
“You’re fucking drenched for me, doll,” he teased lightly, sweeping his tongue along your slit again, making your whole body shudder with pleasure when he grazed your clit ever so lightly. “So wet I bet I could slide into your velvet-soft cunt in one smooth stroke, huh?”
In the farthest reaches of your mind, you were screaming to scoff at him, to not give in, but that voice was getting quieter and quieter the longer Bucky’s mouth was on you. As it was, all you could manage in response to his question was a helpless whine, your hips wiggling restlessly as you tried to grind against his face.
Bucky chuckled, like you were the cutest thing in the world, and his gaze dropped back to your pussy before he spoke again.
“Don’t worry, pretty girl, I’m gonna fill this hole soon enough,” he promised, rubbing your wetness into your skin, making a mess of your soft, swollen folds as he teased your entrance and clit with his fingertips. “All your holes are mine now, and I’ll make sure none of them ever feel neglected.”
With that promise hanging in the air, Bucky dove into your cunt face first and all you could do was whimper—both from his words and the way he devoured you with his mouth. He feasted on you with the patience of a man who knew you weren’t going anywhere.
He licked and sucked on your folds, occasionally deigning to pay attention to your clit and give it the love you needed to rocket toward your release. Before you could get there, he’d pull back, easing you away from the edge.
Then he’d slip his long, thick fingers into your pussy and work your body until you were panting and moaning and writhing beneath him on the bed.
But Bucky never let you cum. Every time you got close, your pussy fluttering around his fingers, your sounds of pleasure ratcheting higher, he’d ease you back down.
It got to the point where that voice of protest in your mind was entirely silenced and you’d accepted you were completely at the mercy of your stalker—and you desperately wanted him to give you what you needed.
“Bucky, please!” you snarled, after the third or fourth time he’d edged you, your voice anything but nice as you yanked impatiently on the cuffs binding your wrists. Your headboard knocked against the wall, but you paid it little mind, too focused on glaring at the man between your thighs.
After a long, torturous moment, Bucky lifted his head slowly, giving you an insolent, heavy-lidded look that went straight to your pussy, your slit throbbing as more wetness leaked down to your ass.
His gaze was unfocused until he blinked, staring up at you almost like he was annoyed at you for interrupting his fun.
“Need something, doll?” he drawled, his fingers pumping leisurely in and out of your hole, making soft, obscene sounds because you were so wet.
“You know what I need, you sick, perverted jerk,” you hissed, your face contorting into what you hoped was a glare, but suspected was a needy look. Frustration was pulsing angrily through your body, craving release, and it was making you desperate.
Bucky watched you, like he was trying to figure you out, but then his mouth curved into a wolfish grin.
“Oh I see what you’re doing, doll,” he said, sounding like he was in on the joke. “You’re calling me those names to make me hard so I’ll fuck you, huh?”
He waited for your response, but you kept your mouth firmly closed, refusing to give him the pleasure of acknowledging he’d seen right through you. His grin widened.
“All ya had to do was ask, sweet girl—I live to serve you.” Bucky pressed one last kiss to your pussy and then he was sitting up.
He made quick work of yanking his shirt off, then undoing his jeans and shoving them down around his thighs. When his thick cock bounced free, smacking wetly against your pussy, your head tipped back and you bit off a strangled, desperate moan.
Bucky rocked his hips forward and back, dragging the heavy weight of his cock through your slick folds, teasing your clit and drenching himself in your juices. He grunted, using his thumbs to press his shaft deeper between your swollen lower lips, his gaze fixed on the sight.
“Y’know, I’ve dreamed about this for months. Laying in bed, stroking my cock to thoughts of you,” he said, his tone casual, almost conversational, but there was a hitch of excitement in his voice—and it made you feel powerful to know you had such an effect on him. “I’m sure you’re feeling real needy, doll, but I still think I want this more.”
It was on the tip of your tongue to protest, to argue with Bucky that there was no way he wanted to fuck you more than you wanted him to fuck you, but you bit it back at the last second, realizing how it would sound. He was your stalker, you reminded yourself, still trying to pretend you didn’t want him.
Bucky seemed to sense your inner battle because he fisted his cock and smacked the heavy length against your pussy. At the same moment, his other hand slid around your throat, fingers squeezing gently until your eyes found his and you stared up into his sinful, sparkling blue gaze.
“You’re mine,” he reminded you, and his words holding a surprising amount of comfort, settling the protests brewing in your mind. “You belong to me, now and forever—and you’re going to take my cock like a good girl, isn’t that right, doll?”
Your chin dipped, brushing against the back of his hand as you nodded, watching a sweet sense of satisfaction bloom in Bucky’s eyes. He gave your throat a squeeze of encouragement, and you could feel the praise in his fingertips as he ducked down for a quick kiss.
Then he sat back up, pinning you to the bed with his hand around your throat, and his cock against your pussy. He took a moment to rake his eyes over your prone form, appreciating the sight you presented to him with your limbs strapped down to the bed, your legs spread open for him.
“Oh, this is so much better than I always imagined,” he said in a soft murmur, almost to himself. The naked affection in his tone warmed your heart, and you had the urge to thank him, but before you could respond, the moment was over and he was moving.
Bucky notched the tip of his cock at your entrance and he pushed inside. Even with how wet you were, it was a stretch to take him. Your mouth formed a little ‘o’ as he slid inside, his cock filling you up until you were so full of him, you didn’t know where you ended and he began.
“That’s it, that’s my girl, you’re taking me so fucking well, doll,” Bucky rasped, his voice devolving into a groan of pleasure when he finally buried himself to the hilt. “Oh fuck, that’s good.”
His head hung down, and he swayed a little above you, like he was overcome by the sensation of your pussy wrapped around his cock. Truthfully, you felt a little dazed yourself. You couldn’t believe how good it felt, how perfectly he fit inside you, stretching you enough to feel it but not hurt you.
Fuck, it was so good. Your stalker’s cock felt so, so good inside you that you didn’t want him to ever not be buried balls-deep in your pussy.
“This cunt is mine now, baby, d’you hear me?” Bucky’s voice was dark and deep and when you glanced up at him, his blue eyes blazing with an intensity that made your heart and pussy flutter.
“Yuh huh,” you mumbled, unable to stop yourself from agreeing. All the fight had been drained out of you by Bucky’s mouth leaving hickeys all over your body, and his cock pushing all thought of protest from your mind.
“Let me hear you say it, doll, say your cunt belongs to me,” Bucky growled, his eyes alight with a feral gleam, like he knew you were right on the edge of giving everything to him. He choked you lightly again, encouragement in the grip of his hand on your throat. “Admit it, sweet girl—you’re mine.”
Your resolve had crumbled to dust, it had collapsed under the weight of the pleasure Bucky offered. He filled you up so good, he’d marked you as his, and he felt so perfect, like he was made for you just as much as you were made for him. It was true, you belonged to him, and you were finally ready to accept it and say it.
“My cunt belongs to you, Bucky,” you said, your gaze focusing on your stalker until all you saw was him, the depraved glint in his eye and the pleased smirk on his face. It matched the perverted, needy spark in your heart. “I belong to you, James Barnes—I’m yours. Forever.”
A look of stunned surprise flitted across Bucky’s face, like he hadn’t expected you to actually give in, but it was quickly chased away by soulful exuberance. The grin that spread across his face was nearly blinding, and he ducked down to capture your lips in a searing kiss, one that felt like sealing your vows of eternal devotion.
“You are, you’re mine. Forever,” Bucky rasped against your mouth, his forehead pressed to yours. “And I’m yours, I’m entirely yours—my body belongs to you, my heart belongs to you, my soul belongs to you,” he vowed. “I am yours.”
Emotion swirled through your chest, Bucky’s words opening up your heart in a way you never expected. He’d crawled into your soul and made a home, and it was a relief to know that he was yours just as surely as you were his.
A sob of happiness tore from your lips, tears splashing down your cheeks and Bucky kissed them all away, cooing sweet words in your ear. His hips began to move, fucking you in slow, deep thrusts that made your toes curl.
Something desperate and needy flickered through your body and you tugged on the cuffs holding your wrists above your head. “Please, Bucky,” you begged, catching his eye and giving him a meaningful look. “I want to touch you, please let me.”
Immediately responding to your words, Bucky reached up and flicked a release on the cuffs. Suddenly, your hands were free, and you wasted no time wrapping your arms tightly around his shoulders, your fingers digging into his soft brown hair.
You tugged him close, until his broad body was flush against your softer one, your mouths brushing as you snarled, “Mine.”
He chuckled, the corner of his mouth flicking up in a grin. “Mine,” he repeated, fucking you harder until you were letting out little ‘uh, uh, uh’ sounds against his lips. “My sweet girl, my pretty doll, my perfect, perverted match.”
You lifted your hips as much as you could to meet his thrusts, your ankles still restrained to the bed, sobbing your pleasure and chanting, “My man, my man, my man,” over and over again.
Bucky pounded into you with everything he had, his hips thrusting flush against your core, the base of his cock grinding against your clit until you were seeing stars. Your chanting words cut off in a high-pitched cry, and Bucky groaned his pleasure, crooning into your lips that you were all his.
You came undone like that, shattering around Bucky’s cock while he kissed you, swallowing your sounds of pleasure like he was a starving man and they were the only sustenance he needed. Your body shook with the intensity of your release, and he held you through it, fucking you harder, his hips falling out of rhythm as he chased his own pleasure.
He followed you over the edge a moment later, groaning his release into your lips as his cock twitched inside you, drowning your pussy in his cum. You licked the sound of pleasure from him mouth, greedily drinking it down and savoring it like it was the most delicious, delectable treat you’d ever tasted.
The two of you writhed together, eking out every bit of pleasure from your releases as you kissed hungrily. It wasn’t enough, it didn’t feel like you’d ever get enough of Bucky. You could feel an obsession with him and his cock blooming deep in your heart and soul, and you couldn’t be bothered to fight it. He was yours, after all.
When you and Bucky were finally sated, he released your ankles from their bindings and the cuffs quickly fell away. He rolled onto his back, taking you with him, massaging the muscles in your arms and legs to ensure they recovered from being restrained.
A soft smile curved your mouth and you buried your face in Bucky’s bare chest, inhaling the scent of him and enjoying the feeling of his touch. You lay, pliant and happy, on top of him, his cock still inside you as his cum seeped out around his softening length.
“Say it again,” Bucky murmured into your temple before pressing a kiss there. His stubble rasped deliciously against your skin and you couldn’t help the soft giggle that erupted from your lips.
“I’m yours, Bucky, all yours,” you said, giving him what he’d asked for you. “Thank you for ruining me, for marking me as yours—thank you for keeping me. Forever.”
Bucky made a pleased sound in his throat, then his finger pressed beneath your chin, tipping your face up so he could see you. The edges of his mouth were curled in a gentle smile, and he looked so handsome in that moment, it took your breath away.
“I’m yours, too, sweet doll,” he vowed, his voice low and rumbly and so earnest you felt your heart throb in response. “All yours, only yours, forever. I’m your man—your filthy pervert, your depraved stalker.”
You giggled into his kiss. “My man is a stalker, and I might be a sick freak because I like it.”
“You’re my sick freak,” Bucky said, his voice filled with affection as he wrapped you up tightly in his thick arms. He pressed another kiss to your lips and then urged you to settle down and get some rest.
You fell asleep in the arms of your neighbor, your stalker, your man—Bucky Barnes.
thank you for reading!! comments and reblogs are always appreciated ♡
An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works
Chapters: 1/1
Fandom: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Captain America (Chris Evans Movies)
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Relationships: James “Bucky” Barnes/Steve Rogers
Characters: James “Bucky” Barnes, Steve Rogers
Additional Tags: Pre-War, Pre-Serum Steve Rogers, Established Relationship, Anal Sex, First Time Bottoming, Bucky Barnes Has a Large Penis, Bottom Steve Rogers, Top Bucky Barnes, Improvised Sex Toys, Size Kink
Summary: During a heavy petting session, Steve asks for more, telling Bucky he’s been getting himself ready for their first time together.
This is my fill for the @buckybarnesevents Hot Bucky Summer Week 10: “I can’t.” | [Big Cock | Anal Training] prompts.
