As you know, I haven’t been very active on here as of late (writing wise) and I’m so sorry about that!! However, I’ve got some exciting projects planned for the new year that I hope you will enjoy!!
Here is what’s coming for 2022 :
I’m confessin’ (that i love you) - Peter Parker x reader
Trope : bestfriends to lovers
Summary : You know how the story goes...two bestfriends who are in love with each other but are completely oblivious. What could possibly go wrong?
Chapter one - 31/12/2021
Dynamite Touch - Peter Parker x reader
Trope : enemies to lovers
Summary : You cannot stand Peter Parker, and he can’t stand you. You know that you have to try and put your differences aside when you are paired together for an upcoming school project.
Chapter one - 1/2/2022
Rent a relationship - Tom Holland x reader
Trope : co-stars to lovers
Summary : When you are asked to star in a rom com alongside Tom Holland, all you can say is yes. Everything is perfect. However, you forget about a certain rule in the contract when filming comes to an end. You must fake a relationship for PR.
Chapter one - TBA
Darling Dearest - Tom Holland x reader
Trope : best friends brother
Summary : You’ve been best friends with Harry and Sam every since you were little. Their older brother Tom was always mean to you. Luckily for you, you haven’t seen him in years due to his busy schedule...however your luck may be about to run out as he comes back home.
Chapter one - TBA
As well as all of this, I will also be working to finish MTSAY by the end of March, so watch out for that aswell!!!
Thank you so much for your patience, have an amazing christmas and new year!!!
Dear Sebastian Stan, It would be great if you would let me give you that gawk gawk 5000.I am actually pro I have been on tumblr and Wattpad and ao3 for some years now and at this point I’m an expert just give me a couple minutes pls I beg, and if you do not want head we could compromise and you could raw dog me will whispering “ good girl , and mommy in my ear “ and if you are feeling a little kinky you can even spit in my mouth if you would like okay thank you.
Summary: You're a college student who hates visiting home. Bucky is new to town and works with your dad. Your mom thinks you need a break from studying and your dad thinks Bucky needs help meeting new people. Smut ensures. 4.5k SMUT
Warnings: Age gap, flirting in inappropriate circumstances, dirty talk, oral - m. receiving, Bucky is cocky and sees right through you, D/s vibes (but not really), very little Daddy kink (one mention), unedited.
A/n: I don't think I have to mention this, but 18+ please!!! Please reblog and lmk if you liked it ❤
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"Hun-" your mother warmly called as she approached you, a transparent plastic container filled with freshly seasoned raw pieces of meat, in her hands, "Take this to your father, ok?"
With unmistakable disgust on your face, you still faked a smile - all for her sake and took the container from her. It was heavy and you did your best to look anywhere but at it as you crossed the backyard, approaching your dad. He was with his back at you, facing the grill, and a man - which you barely noticed at first, stood by his side.
"Dad?" you sighed, "Mom said you should make these right now"
Their conversation stopped in an instant, and the two men turned to face you.
A smile instantly made its way onto your dad's face, "Didn't think you girls would be done so fast" he commented.
You just shrugged, knowing damn well you did not help prepare the food in any way. However, your eyes landed on the man behind your dad. He was tall, definitely well built, his shirt a size too small and his eyes shamelessly boring into yours.
You fell under his spell in under a second. Or maybe he fell under yours. Something definitely happened. A switch flipped inside your brain, and you knew you'd have to work hard to not allow yourself to do, or at least try to do, anything stupid at your parents party.
His eyes trailed lower down your body, and judging by the way he fought back a grin, it was clear what he had in mind.
In order to keep things from getting awkward, his lips parted into a dazzling smile, as he extended his hand to you, "You must be, Y/n. I'm James Barnes. You can call me Bucky. Or Buck"
"Oh, yeah!" you dad smiled, "You two haven't met! James is the best damn mechanical engineer I've ever seen"
"You work together?" you squinted your eyes, "I never heard of you before"
"He just moved to the state" you father added, and Bucky nodded in agreement, his hand still slowly shaking yours.
Feeling your cheeks heat up with embarrassment, you smiled and excused yourself, "Nice to meet you, Mr. Barnes. I'll go now, see if mom needs any more help"
Bucky's eyes didn't leave your frame as you walked away, however you barely managed to take a couple of steps before you heard your mother's voice. "Y/n, baby? Can you go grab the glasses?"
"How many?"
"12" she responded in an instant, and then you took off towards the house.
It was dead silent inside. The house was empty, and already a mess. You took off your sandals and walked over to the cabinets above the sink, pulled out a tray and started looking for the fancy glasses your mother saved for special occasions.
You must've grabbed about 3 or 4 when a deep voice startled you, "Need any help?"
You lightly jumped in surprise, but hoped he didn't notice. "No, it's ok, thank you, though"
"Ok" Bucky mumbled, and you heard the smugness in his tone.
Unable to fight your instincts, you turned around and looked at him over your shoulder. Leaning against the wall with a small bottle of beer in his hand, he sent you a mischievous wink which almost brought a lump to your throat.
You hurried to turn around and keep gathering the glasses your mother asked for, struggling more and more with each one. When you cleared the first shelf, it was obvious you'd need help reaching the ones higher up, but you weren't about to ask Bucky. Instead, you hiked your dress up your thighs and pushed one of your knees on top of the counter, lifting yourself up just enough to reach the remaining glasses.
"Careful up there," Bucky laughed, walking over to you.
On a normal day, your palms wouldn’t be shaking and you wouldn't even think about the possibility of dropping a glass or falling off the counter. But he was too close, taking way too much satisfaction from seeing you struggling to maintain your balance. Not to mention the skirt, and the way almost all the skin of your thighs was on display for him.
"You could've asked me to help, you know?" he taunted, taking one more step towards you. There were barely a few inches separating your bodies now, and although you were sure it was your mind playing tricks on you, the heat from his body flooded your senses. He was too close. Too smug, looking at you. But the last straw was when he placed his left hand on the counter, inches away from your knee. That was when you noticed the prosthetic arm as the metallic sound of its vibranium plates overlapping grabbed your full attention. After a momentary lapse of composure, you looked into his eyes but all he did was raise his eyebrows. He knew exactly what he was doing.
"Uh, it's ok" you shook your head, turning back to look at the cabinet. "Just five more"
For the remaining glasses, you grabbed them from the shelf, handing them to Bucky to place them on the tray.
When you were finally done, with a gentle grab of your hips, Bucky helped you off the counter, his hands lingering against the thin material of your dress for a bit too long. But you didn't mind. His touch burned and under his gaze, you found yourself turning around to face him, the proximity being nothing other than obscene especially if you were to take into consideration the age gap, and how you met him.
But that was 20 minutes ago. A moment not so conveniently interrupted by your mother barging in, wondering what was taking you so long. Bucky helped you carry the glasses to the table outside, and after that, you parted ways.
Even though he went back to the rest of the men gathered around the grill, your mind remained fixed on him. You found it almost impossible not to look for him every other minute, and the fact that he managed to catch you staring everytime, made the butterflies in your stomach go even crazier.
And then it took a little bit of devious and manipulative work on your part - to convince your aunt she got the wrong seat. You told her there was a seating plan, and that she was supposed to sit next to your mum. That opened up a seat left of Bucky, and since that seating plan was as unreal as your chances with him, or so you thought, you had to make sure the seat wouldn't be taken by someone else. And you didn't want to make it obvious - didn't want him to know you only chose that spot after figuring out it was right next to his. So you sprinted back into the house, grabbed your purse and placed it on the chair, pushing it as close as you could to the table, so no one could see it. Maybe it's been there for hours, even before any of the guests even showed up. Who'd know?
But of course, once the food had been served and you were all seated, you had to play your cards right. All your confidence seemed to have vanished ever since Bucky took his seat next to you. Casually sipping his beer, having a taste out every single type of food laid out in front of him, cracking jokes every now and then, and the glimpses… And the winks... And the way whenever he had to turn in your direction, his eyes would first land on you, and only then travel to the person he was having a conversation with.
But that was just the start. Soon enough, his attention was more and more directed towards you. His arm on the back of your chair. His jokes solely for you.
When you figured it was your time to make the next move, after giggling at one of the stupid puns he just made, you cleared your throat and scanned the table. "James, where did you get the olives? Can you hand me the bowl please? I can't see it"
"Oh, yeah" he said, pushing himself up to grab them for you. But conveniently, the bowl was empty. "There aren't any left, doll." he announced after settling back in his seat.
"That's ok" you smiled, ready to stand up, "I'll go see if there are any inside"
The "No" he whispered was way too low for you to hear, but his metal hand grabbing your thigh and pinning you down in your chair got the message across. You turned to look at him confused, but your plan was already going in a completely different and indisputably better direction.
"Here-" Bucky said, using his fork to pick up one of the olives on his plate. "I'm full anyway"
"Thanks" you nervously laughed, raising your hand to grab the utensil, but he stopped you.
"Open up"
Only for a second did you stop to consider just how bad of an idea that was, but you hurriedly pushed the thought aside and opened your mouth. Your eyes met his as you lowered yourself and grabbed the olive with your teeth, barely managing to hide your enthusiasm as you slipped it off his fork.
"Good?" Bucky asked.
You nodded, "Very. Thank you"
"No problem, doll"
After that, you returned to your plate - some cheese and salad left. None of them looked too appetising right now, you knew what you wanted - two things, but only one of them would be acceptable. So, you lazily gathered some salad leaves into your fork, and turned to Bucky. "Can I have one more?"
"Hm?" he muttered, removing the beer bottle from his lips and looking at you confused.
"One more olive? Can I?"
Instantly, he smiled. "What was that?"
"Can I have one more-" and when his amused smile turned into a devious grin, you realised what he actually wanted from you. "Please?"
He still wasn't satisfied so he just raised his eyebrows, telling you to try again.
"James? Can I please have one more olive?"
"Of course" he taunted.
You didn't know what you expected, of course you'd have to eat this one out of his fork too. However, this time, he didn't bother helping you at all, instead making you lean all the way into him to grab it.
"Thanks"
"And call me Bucky, ok?"
"Yeah, ok. Bucky"
As much as you wanted to keep this game going, the atmosphere around the table shifted. Even though your parents were seated at the other end of the table and on the same side, making it impossible for them to see what you were up to, you still felt like you crossed one too many lines.
When your demeanour changed, so did Bucky's. He leaned back in his seat, shifting uncomfortably for a couple of minutes, until he decided to stand up, announcing he was grabbing another drink for himself. You wanted to ask him to bring one for you too, but before you even managed to get a word out, he was already sprinting towards the house.
In his absence, you tried to calm yourself down and regain your composure, but there was only one thing on your mind. Him. So, against your better judgement, you left your seat at the table too, innocently heading towards the house.
There you found Bucky, leaning almost all the way in into the fridge, scavenging for another beer. The man emptied your dad's stash before the second course was even served.
"Whatcha looking for?" you beamed, walking up beside him.
"There's no more beer left" he announced, straightening his back and turning to face you. "I guess I'll have some water"
"I can go and see if there's any in the basement" you offered, "Or you could always go for something stronger"
"What do you suggest?"
"What are you into?"
"What am I into?" Bucky laughed.
"Whiskey?" you questioned, walking around him to open the liquor cabinet. "I hate this rum so I don't recommend it." You grabbed another bottle, "This vodka is amazing, no headaches the morning after."
"That won't be a problem" Bucky chuckled, leaning against the counter. "I'll have whatever you wanna give me"
"You seem like a whiskey kinda guy, is that ok?"
He nodded in approval, and then watched you pad around the kitchen, grabbing a glass and some ice. "What makes me look like a whiskey kind of guy?"
You took a deep breath, weighing your next words. "Rugged, tall.. handsome. Not my age." You shrugged. "Whiskey". Before allowing him to comment on that, you spoke up again. "What kind of drink do I remind you of?"
He pondered for a second, his eyes studying your every move. "One of those overly sweet girly cocktails, that has way more alcohol than my whiskey, but it's masked by all the syrups and preservatives inside it"
"Really?" you laughed out loud, handing him his glass.
Bucky smiled as he took it from you, raising it as if making a toast, and then took a sip. He licked his lips and sent you an approving nod.
Slowly, you both turned around and started walking out of the kitchen, but unlike you - Bucky stopped in the middle of the house, his voice urging you to do the same. "I'll go out front for a cigarette"
"Can I come, too?" you asked, heart beating out of your chest.
"Please" He urged you, stepping aside and allowing you to walk in front of him.
With a hand on your waist, he followed you out the front door. It was quiet, the sun shining a bit too bright for your liking.
You skipped down the stairs onto the pavement, but he stopped and sat down. Bucky spread his legs wide and motioned for you to come in front of him. After you did, with a gentle tug on your hand, he got you to kneel, one step below him.
"Want a cigarette, doll?" he asked, leaning back to retrieve the pack and lighter from his jeans pocket.
"No, thanks"
"Don't smoke?"
"Not if there isn't at least a mile between me and my parents" you giggled, placing your hands on his knees.
"Why?" he raised an eyebrow, lighting up his cigarette and taking a puff. You watched the smoke dissipate to the side, only to have your attention grabbed by him when he placed his free hand on your shoulder. "You're an adult. Have been for years. You live on your own. Why not?"
As he spoke, his fingers curled around the strap of your dress, nonchalantly pulling it down.
You swallowed thickly, but due to the way he was making you feel, you decided to ignore his action. "What they don't know, can't hurt them, right?"
"Mhm" Bucky agreed, taking another puff and then moving to play with the other strap. "So I was right?"
"About what?"
He shook his head, "Nevermind"
"Tell me!" you whined, pushing yourself up against him. His thighs completely framed your body as you closed the distance between the two of you. "Tell me!"
"Nope" he grinned, his proud smile inches away from your hungry lips.
"Bucky, come on" you pleaded, framing his face into your palms, "Tell me, please"
"No, doll-" he dismissed you, turning his head to the side to smoke. After blowing up the smoke, he threw the cigarette into the ashtray, his hands coming up around your body to rest on your ass.
"Pretty please?" you whined.
"Don't push me" he threatened, his grip on your ass tightening to the point where you almost whimpered out loud. Instead, your eyes just opened wide and you bit your lips.
"Ok" you sighed, playfully defeated, "Ok, fine. Don't tell me. But now I'm sad"
"Of course you are, doll" Bucky laughed, grabbing your chin. "I can tell how sad you are. You're not almost bursting into laughter at all"
"Shut up!" you scoffed, slapping his side, but he interrupted your antics with another rough squeeze of your ass.
Unable to keep calm anymore, you dragged your hands up his thighs, stopping inches away from his member. When you looked up to see his reaction, Bucky was already watching you.
"Can I?" you pouted.
"Stand up"
"Why-"
"Stand up" he commanded again, slapping your ass before you stood up and settled in front of him. "Take your panties off, doll"
"Here!?" you gasped, "What if anyone-"
"No one's gonna see you if you keep quiet and shuffle out of them like a good girl"
With your heart panging in the back of your throat, you slowly reached under your dress and pulled your underwear down. The feeling of cotton slipping down your legs made your shiver, and by the time your panties fell to the ground, Bucky had already stood up.
Wordlessly, you grabbed them from the floor and handed them to him, "Good girl" he nodded and then stepped out of the way, motioning for you to head inside.
You did so without any further form of complaint, determined to have your way with him by the end of the party. Dessert hadn't been served yet, so you knew there was still time to get to him.
But once you stepped into the house, you barely managed to make it past the hallway before Bucky grabbed your elbow and dragged you to the side. He forcefully pushed you into the small bathroom by the guest room, slamming the door behind him and locking it in one smooth movement.
Now it all made sense. Nerves and anxiety washed over you, but the good kind. You were bursting with emotion, shivering from every joint as your juices finally started running down your legs. You licked your lips and waited for instructions from him, ready to do absolutely anything he'd tell you to.
"Why don't you show me what you're made out of, hm? I wanna see how fast you can make me cum with that pretty little mouth of yours"
And that was all you needed to hear before you dropped to your knees in front of him, drooling like a good little girl as you watched him undo his pants. Your eagerness got the best of you. He looked divine, especially from that angle. His thick thigh inches away from your face, his metal hand playing with his belt, his hungry eyes staring down at you, his rugged breathing and the perverse view of his cock straining against his clothes.
Thank god he was fast, because you didn't know how to control yourself anymore.
When he finally pushed his underwear down and leaned against the wall, you were ready to show him what you were capable of. You wrapped your arms around him, settling your palms on the back of his thighs and sloppily took his cock into your mouth.
"Holy shit-" he cried out loud when you first sucked on his tip, bucking his hips and clenching his thighs.
Eagerly working him from between hollowed cheeks and with your tongue pressed to the underside of his hardening member, you proceeded to look up, innocently blinking at him. The corner of Bucky's mouth tilted upwards, perfectly expressing the immense amount of satisfaction he was getting.
When the strain on your neck became noticeable, you slipped his cock out of your mouth and wrapped your hand around his base. With delicate and experienced flicks of your tongue against his slit, you worked on shattering his self control, getting more and more wet as his breathing started to accelerate.
"Fuck, Y/n, you little slut-" he gasped, bringing his hand to rest on the top of your head.
You knew what he wanted, but it wasn't his turn to make decisions. Instead, you ignored his gesture and lowered yourself further between his legs, wrapping your lips around his balls. You sucked slowly, applying just the right amount of pressure that you hoped would drive him up the walls.
"Doll, so good. So, so fucking good" he panted, his cock nearly twitching in your hand as you kept pumping along the length.
Pulling back when your neck needed a break, you settled in front of him again, this time mouth open, and placed his tip on your tongue. No physical pleasure from that, but no amount of shadow could hide the pure bliss in his features. Just having you there, on your knees, with his cock on your tongue, was exactly what he needed to see.
"Come on, baby. It's not gonna suck itself" Bucky grunted, rubbing his thumb across your cheek. You nodded eagerly, but he stopped you before taking him back into your mouth. "All the way down, ok? Take my cock all the way down your throat, and when you feel like you can't anymore, go a little further"
You nodded again.
"And don't worry, I'm here to help you, doll"
You wanted to mumble a 'Thank you' but didn't get to, since he hurriedly curled his fingers around your roots and forced your head down his cock.
The feeling of your throat expanding around him reached your core in no time, making you shiver under his hold. You crumbled to the floor, your knees weak from the sheer feeling of it all, blinking wearily as he kept you down.
A mere few seconds had passed before, out of nowhere, Bucky pushed you off of him and looked to the door, eyes wide with shock.
"What happened?" you mumbled, wiping your chin.
"Thought I heard something"
"You locked the door" you reminded him, "No one's gonna catch us. And that's a bit of a shame, if you ask me"
"Huh?" Bucky frowned.
"I wouldn't mind people seeing me with your balls in my mouth"
His mouth fell open. "You dirty, little whore"
Wrapping your hand around his cock, you licked his tip and looked up, "Don't act like you don't like that about me"
"I absolutely fucking love it" Bucky scoffed, "Don't know what could have possible made you think I don't like it"
"I was just saying"
"Just.. stop talking. Put that mouth to better use for me, ok?"
"Yes, Daddy" you teased and wrapped your lips around his tip again.
"You little-" Bucky started cursing as he shook his head in disbelief, before a rapid knock against the wooden door made your heart stop.
"Buck?" your father's voice echoed around the bathroom, "You in there?"
Without even thinking twice, Bucky forced you back all the way down on his cock, completely blocking your air supply.
"Yeah! I'm in here!" he yelled as you struggled to keep quiet and muffle the way your body desperately begged for air.
"Have you seen Y/n?"
"Nope"
The panic that was running through your veins had your oxygen burning faster than normal, the tears in your eyes being the first sign of it.
"I can't find her anywhere" you dad went on.
No matter how much you tried and how much training you had, in that moment right there, you found it impossible to fight your gag reflex. Before you knew it, a choked down whimper erupted from your throat, forcing Bucky to cough, loudly, hoping to cover you.
"I haven't seen her, man. But, urgh-" The way your throat convulsed around his cock made Bucky weak too, way too close to his release to be able to sound inconspicuous. "Can I- can I have some pr- privacy now? Please? Just - just a sec"
"Are you feeling ok? Do you need-"
"I'm fine!" Bucky yelled. "I'll be out in a sec"
It was not like you were able to hear anything or even concentrate, but as soon as it was clear, Bucky let you off his cock, as he fell back against the wall and you stumbled into the sink.
Gasping for air, you heaved under his stare, eyes wide in shock. "You know I could've kept perfectly quiet without your cock blocking my throat"
"Where's the fun in that?" he panted, getting ready to finish on his own.
"No!" you stopped him, crawling back to him, "Let me!!"
"Just open your mouth" he grunted, and you obeyed.
It took him approximately 30 seconds to reach his orgasm, his hot cum landing perfectly on your awaiting tongue. His moaning and his breathing, and the way his face contorted through endless expressions of pure bliss, had you neatly coming yourself.
When he was done and after you proudly swallowed all that he had to offer, you stood up to fix your lipstick while Bucky cleaned and dressed himself back up.
"Your best friend called. She's having an emergency, you need to get there as soon as possible"
"What-?" you gasped, confused for just a second before you realised there was no way that could have been true.
"Yeah, and I'm not feeling well, so I'll head home. I can drop you off if you want"
And that was what you told your parents. That they couldn't find you earlier because you were talking on the phone with your best friend, reassuring her that everything would be fine and that you'd meet her as soon as possible.
Your parents weren't happy about it, but they didn't shy away from thanking Bucky a million times for offering to drive you. After a sappy round of goodbyes and promises to visit more often from now on, your parents finally returned to the party while Bucky led you to his car.
Once you got in, you didn't even manage to put your seat belt on before Bucky grabbed your chin and forced his lips against yours, kissing you deeply. His tongue pushed its way into your mouth, tasting every inch of you. He dominated the kiss as you melted in his hold, moaning against his lips before he pulled away.
"Been waiting to do that since I first laid eyes on you"
"What stopped you?"
"Had a feeling it wasn't a good idea" he laughed, starting the engine, "Saw what you did to my dick. It was all pink. Don't know how I would've explained lipstick all over my face to your parents"
"Well, excuse me for not wearing blow job proof lipstick to my parents barbecue"
"You're forgiven" Bucky teased, squeezing your thigh as he pulled out of the driveway.
"But why are we leaving though?" you questioned, "You know I have my own room upstairs, right?"
"I know, I know.. but next time we're nearly getting caught, I don't want it to be by anyone who's seen you in diapers"
You burst into laughter, "Oh god, you're right, yeah, that makes a lot of sense! But where are we going?"
"You'll see"
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Please reblog if you enjoyed this and hmu with concepts!!!
Summary: Peter is working on a secret project and starts acting strange when you ask him about it. How do you explain to your best friend that you are engineering your spider suit to have vibrating fingers? And how are you supposed to react when she offers to be your test subject?
Lazy days at the compound were not to be taken for granted. Between the high regiment training schedule, international travel, press conferences, and team meetings, it felt like you rarely had a minute to yourself. So when a day popped up where you could relax for a minute, you took full advantage.
That was the problem though, you didn’t know how to relax. Your body naturally woke you up at the crack of dawn and you instinctively went on a morning run. What was wrong with you. Every time you sat down to “relax” you felt restless, searching around for something productive to do.
summary: When Bucky is injected with a substance that leaves him desperate for release, you offer your help.
pairing: bucky x reader
word count: 7.8k
warnings: smut (18+), sex pollen (with as much consent as one can have in a dub/con trope)
“What in the—” you slammed an elbow to the nose of the assailant behind you, “holy,” a quick right jab to another coming up on your left, “godforsaken,” a knee plunged straight to your ribs and you kicked to the assailant who managed to get one up on you, “hell, Rogers!”
Another body fell to the ground and settled at the collection at your feet.
Dripping in sweat, heart pounding in your chest, and your body short of giving out completely, you slumped a shoulder against the cold frame of the wall. Down the hall, at least a dozen more Hydra agents were barreling towards you.
There was no response on the coms; not that you expected as much. The Hydra base in Munich you were tasked with rigging to blow was meant to be abandoned. Nothing left but a dozen empty cells and decades of barbaric research no one should ever lay eyes on again.
Seemed Captain Roger’s intel was just slightly off. Tell that to the series of bodies lying in your wake.
“You better send backup, Rogers, or I swear to God I’ll haunt your star-spangled ass for all eternity,” you grumbled to the broken transmission as you attempted to square up. Fists out ahead of you, swaying slightly on weakened legs, a dizziness in your vision making it hard to tell exactly how many men were charging straight at you.
“What? I’m not enough for you?” Bucky suddenly appeared on your right, chuckling to himself as he released the empty magazine from his weapon and quickly replaced it with a new one. Blood was soaked into his hair line, mixing with the sweat beaded on his forehead, and he brushed the back of his hand against his face to smear it back into his hair.
“About time you showed up. Making me do all the hard work myself,” you scoffed, shooting him a teasing smile as you eyed the hallway he came rushing in from.
He insisted you’d be out in time for movie night back home if the two of you split up, divided the C4 amongst you and met back at the quinjet in twenty. Not even his super soldier instincts could have predicted this place would be overrun with stray Hydra agents looking for a rematch.
One of the agents opposing you whipped out a handgun and Bucky jumped forward, using his left arm as a shield. The bullets ricocheted across the room, puncturing into another Hydra agent who collapsed to the ground clutching his knee.
You exhaled a heavy breath, the edges of your lips dipping down into a frown as you watched more agents stepping over the bodies of their colleagues and advancing down the hallway. You glanced up at Bucky, watching as he weighed the rifle in his hands, bouncing it lightly. It was running low on ammo.
“You get anyone on coms yet?”
“Nothing. We’re on our own.” Bucky gritted his teeth, firing a few rounds down at the mass of Hydra agents swarming their way towards you. It knocked a few of them down, at least.
You started to take a few steps in their direction, yanking a knife from the spine of an agent on the ground before you whipped it down at the ones ahead of you, knocking another to the ground. The echo of gunfire tore through the cramped hall again and it left a pile of men at the front lines.
Four left.
“That was my last round,” Bucky grunted, tossing the weapon to the floor as he tugged a small blade from the holster on his thigh. He smirked as he glanced over at you through the corner of his eye. “Who do you want?”
You shrugged, studying the four agents who came to a slow halt at the opposite end of the hallway. The two on the left looked about as you’d expected from Hydra agents; tall, dark haired, with shoulders twice as wide as their hips and a vicious kind of look in their eyes. Then, a blonde-haired woman who couldn’t seem to tear her eyes away from Bucky, a hand resting impatiently on the knife against her hip. Last, a man who towered at least two feet above the others with a long, jagged scar covering most of his face.
“I’ll take the two on the right.”
Bucky narrowed his eyes, glancing between you and your chosen assailants. The taller one cracked his neck to the side and bared his teeth.
“You’re sure?”
You feigned offense; a hand pressed your heart as you took a few steps forward, sliding the batons out from the holsters along your shoulder blades and twirling them between your fingers. “You underestimate me, Barnes. You think I’d let you have all the fun?”
Bucky laughed, shaking his head as he jogged to catch up with you, disregarding the battle cries of the Hydra agents as they advanced as if it was only ever the two of you in the room. “Not a chance in hell, sweetheart.”
The blonde woman stared to advance on Bucky, eyes trailing him up from his boots to the top of his head with a devilish kind of look in her stare. She licked at her lips hungrily, as if she was ready to take a bite into him, though he paid her no mind as he rushed at the two men to her right.
“Hey, Barbie!” you called, waving a baton in the air to grab her attention. “Looks like your stuck with me.”
She glared at you, pausing in her strut for only a minute, but it was all you needed. You sprinted towards her, using the wall as leverage as you jumped up against the frame to propel yourself into her. Baton at ready, you slammed down into her collarbone as she let out a yelp and fell down to the ground. It didn’t take her long to get back on her feet and when she did, her knife was nestled tight into her grip, a new kind of intrigue on her face as she stared you down.
“Need any help over here?” Bucky called out from the end of the hallway as he ducked under the right hook of one of his assailants. He clipped one in the knees, sending them spiraling to the floor with a pained shout, before he smirked over in your direction.
“Mind your business, Barnes!” You rolled your eyes as a smile crept up against your lips.
Barbie took a single glance back at Bucky before her eyes returned to you and there was something darker within her stare you didn’t quite notice, or perhaps you simply mistook it for enemy territory. Either way, when she raised her arm with knife in hand, you whipped around the baton in a backhanded strike, sending the knife flying down the hall. Unarmed, she stared at you with wide, fearful eyes, until you knocked her out with a final hit to the side of her. Nothing fatal, but it would keep her under until backup arrived to hull her in.
Bucky was still fighting off his second attacker as you approached the man leaning against the wall with his arms folded over his chest, patiently waiting. He pushed himself off the wall, cracked his knuckles between his palms with sharp snaps that echoed down into the hallway.
“Think you can take me, little girl?” he taunted, voice low and thick, like it had gone years in disuse. He made a show of the way he settled into his stance; fists held out in front of him, shadow boxing in an attempt to intimidate you. It seemed to catch him off guard when you rolled your eyes.
“It’s been a long day,” you shrugged, “and frankly, I’d like to go home. So, let’s make this quick.”
The arrogant smirk dropped from his face, replaced quickly with a wash of rage that a woman half his size would dare mock him in such a way. But he was clumsy in his stance and in his swings, so you saw each of his moves coming a mile ahead. With every right hook, you slid under his arm and stepped out behind him. In every jab, you side stepped out of reach. He exhausted himself while you made little effort in your defense. Without a single offensive throw, he was panting in a matter of minutes.
“WHAT ARE YOU DOING?!” he bellowed, loud enough to make Bucky pause for a moment and you winced as his assailant took advantage of the moment to get in a punch to his jawline. He recovered quickly, giving you the security to face your own attacker head on. The Hydra giant was dripping in sweat, red in the face, teeth bared and near feral. “Fight me!”
“Only because you asked so nicely.”
As he threw his next swing, you met it with the brunt of your baton, stilling him in his stance. He stared at you, wide eyes and jaw slacked, as you winked at him and dove under his legs. Before he could manage to turn around, you flicked at switch at the bottom of the batons which emitted an electrical pulse from the top edge and plunged it into the man's neck.
He convulsed, gargling out a few incoherent words, before he collapsed to the floor at your feet. You grinned, sliding the batons into the holsters at your shoulder blades.
“Alright, I take it all back,” Bucky’s voice chuckled from behind you. “You don’t need me at all.”
You laughed, shaking your head as several strands fell down into your face, lost to the bun at the top of your head in the struggle. As you turned to face Bucky, you found him standing with his hands planted on his hips and the brightest smile on his face, one that took him years to find again since you first met him and damn if it wasn’t one of the most beautiful sights you’d ever seen.
But then, there was a sudden rush of movement on the ground. One of the Hydra agents wrestled back up to his feet behind Bucky, a malice imbedded deep into his glare, a determination as he rushed forward.
There was little time to think as you lunged for the knife you broke free of the blonde agent’s hand and whipped it across the room. It plunged straight into the man’s jugular and he fell backwards, hands sliding out from around Bucky’s neck as blood coated the tile floors.
“Shit,” you panted, hands on your knees. “You okay?”
Bucky didn’t respond.
Slowly, heart pounding in your chest, you glanced up to find him pulling a syringe from his neck. He stared at it for a second, stunned as a few stray droplets dripped from the edge of the needle before he dropped it to the ground, letting it slip out from his fingers limply. The vile was empty as it rolled along the tile and settled against the dead body of its owner.
“Bucky?”
There was a sudden, paralyzing dread that swept over his features, one that seemed to worsen as his eyes fell upon yours. Then, his knees started to buckle, his stance falling unsteady and you rushed forward, darting under his arm to catch him before could lay amongst the bodies of Hydra agents. He was shaking, hands trembling, and you could feel the sharp rise and fall of his breath as you held him steady.
“We have to get you out of here,” you said, trying to push down the panic etching its way up your spine, but Bucky shook his head.
“No time.” It was all he could mutter out.
“Bucky, you've just been injected with God knows what and we need to get to you a medic or—”
“There,” he grunted, pointed to an open room at the end of the hallway. With a thick, metal door and dozen locks lining the outside, it was more of a cell than a room. You started to shake your head, but Bucky gripped tight to your arm. “Y/n, please.”
You watched him carefully, noticed how he couldn’t seem to meet your eye, how sweat was beading at his hairline more profusely than it was in the midst of a battle, how his breaths were broken and trembling on every exhale.
“Okay, okay. Hold on.” You slowly guided him to step over the bodies at your feet, most unconscious, others not as lucky, and swiftly led him into the cell. It seemed to put him at ease as you aided him to sit on one of the metal chairs at the center of the room. As you released your touch from his arm, a rush of what appeared to be pain twisted into his facial features though he tried to hide it.
“So, what do we do now?” you asked. “I could try to find the lab. They could have counteractants to whatever this is. Or I could try to fix the coms... but we all know Parker’s a lot better with that stuff than I am.”
You laughed, trying to ease the tension in the room, but it was so thick you could have cut through it with the blunt edge of your baton. Bucky’s eyes were glued to the floor, his hands curling around the undersides of the chair until the metal warped under his grip.
“You need to leave.”
Your smile dropped. “What? No, are you crazy? I’m not leaving you alone after—”
“Go!” His voice boomed against the walls and you tried not to let the shock startle you.
“Bucky, stop. That’s not happening.” You dug your fingers into your hips as you paced back over the door, stole a quick glance in both directions. It was still empty save for the bodies lying in your wake. It seemed you and Bucky were entirely alone. You pinched the bridge of your nose. “We’ll figure something out, okay? We always do. This can’t be worse than the time we were buried in that old chevy under twelve feet of snow in Alaska last year, can it?”
You shot him a grin, hoping to ease him, though it did little use. His face was red, jaw stoned. He looked like he was barely breathing.
“You’re not hearing me,” Bucky groaned, his voice molding into something darker. “You're not safe here. You need to leave. Now. Before I... Before I can’t control this. Before I hurt you.”
You paused, narrowing your eyes. “What are you talking about? Do you… Do you know what that stuff was?”
Bucky clenched his jaw, turning away from you the best he could. He let out a pained groan and kicked the chair out from under him. It slammed against the wall with a harsh clash and forced a skip in your heartbeat, a hand darting up to your chest. Bucky leaned over the table, trying to find support, but he ended up gripping onto the sides hard enough to dent imprints in the shape of his hands.
You rushed forward, desperate to help because you couldn’t stand to see him in so much pain, and placed a hand on his shoulder. It touched upon the thick straps of Kevlar for only a second, and still, it was enough to elicit a visceral reaction. He whined, something between a moan and cry, and he slumped down out of your reach.
“Don’t touch me,” Bucky warned, though his voice broke in the effort. His breaths were labored and heavy, and still it seemed as though he could barely get one in. “Please. You—You have to get away from me. I’m— I’m begging you.”
Bucky choked back a cry, biting down hard on his lower lip, and it was then you noticed his right hand palming at the hardened outline nestled tight against his thigh. He pressed the heel of his left into his eyes, shame burning hot against his ears and cheeks and trailing down in red patches along his neck. He tried to hide behind his hair, hide from you, but it was enough; you recognized what this was.
It was a serum created by Hydra in the seventies, meant to create inhumans of their own design when the clinical measures were proving unsuccessful. It was created to induce a euphoric state, a primal need beyond personal control, to put its host through hell until Hydra had what it wanted: a viable chance at an inhuman child.
“Bucky,” you called gently, though all you earned was a whimpered grunt in response. Slowly, you crossed the plane of the room to him and laid a hand against his collar. His eyes fluttered shut in response, his whole body keenly alert to every touch.
“You should leave,” he warned again, his gaze slowly drawing up to meet your own; a glossy shine shielded over a stunning ocean blue. “Let me... let me take care of this on my own. I’ll be f-fine.”
“It’ll be agonizing,” you told him, having remembered the speech Tony gave a few months back after the team first encountered the serum in Peru. “It won’t kill you, but it will feel pretty damn close. Nothing you do on your own will relieve it. It doesn't work like that. You need someone to help you through this.”
He shook his head. “No. I won’t-- I won’t ask you to do that.”
“You don’t have to,” you replied gingerly, drawing your hand up along his arm, tracing over swells of muscle as watching the way a shiver followed so tenderly in your wave. You rested your hand along his cheek, brushing your thumb under his eyes. He was scorching hot. You smiled at him, something soft and gentle, something sad. “I’m offering, Bucky.”
“No,” he grunted out. “I—I can’t. I won’t.”
You nodded, letting your hand fall to the side. It was remarkable he was able to hold himself back this long, let alone decline an offer when presented to him. You’d heard the stories of men to devolved to a near primal state, who attempted to jump the first person they saw and fought their way to release. Bucky was determined to spare you, even as you offered, even knowing that turning you down would put him through a world of pain.
“Okay,” you conceded. “Tell me what you need. Tell me something I can do, Buck, because I can’t just watch you in pain like this.”
Bucky stared at you, pupils blown wide, almost as if he could see right through you.
“Need to get this off,” he finally admitted, eyes drifting down to his suit.
“Okay,” you replied steadily. “Do you want help?”
He shook his head, his stare glued to the floor, but you could see the way his hands were reaching out for you, how he had to keep himself in check and hold them firmly at his sides. He tried to unfasten the buckle at his chest himself, but within seconds he let out a hallowed cry, dropping his head in defeat.
“Hurts,” he exhaled, and slowly his eyes came back up to yours. He forced out a halfhearted smile the best he could. “Can you...?”
You returned the nervous smile, as you took a cautious step forward. He followed your every move as your hands extended towards his chest, fingers clipping the buckles easily as they unsnapped down his jacket. Each one left a new breath of relief in its wake, like he was just on the edge of the surface, under only a few inches of water.
Your hands slid under the seams, helping to slip the sleeve down his right arm, and Bucky choked back a moan. His eyes fluttered shut, lips parted just slightly, and you jumped back.
“Sorry,” he muttered. His cheeks were near on fire.
“It’s alright, Buck. It’s not your fault.” You reached out for him again. “Here, let me help with your belt.”
“No, no, I’ve got it.” His hands were shaking as he started to fidget with the buckle. He swayed on his feet, trying to find some relief. As he unfastened the latch and unbuttoned the hem of his pants, his eyes flashed up to you. He exhaled a heavy breath. “Can you... Christ... can you turn around?”
The look on his face, the shame radiating from every ounce of him, shattered you right to your core. You nodded quickly, turning your back to him and making your way to the door. He needed privacy – of course, he did. He didn’t need you around to bear witness to the consequences of Hydra’s newest attempt to leave him powerless and vulnerable.
But just as you approached the door, Bucky called out quietly, “don’t go.”
You stilled in an instant, though you didn’t dare to turn around.
“It, um,” he cleared his throat awkwardly. “I think it helps if you’re here. If that’s alright.”
“Need something to look at, huh?” you laughed, trying to make light of the impossible position he was in, and you were thankful for the short chuckle you heard behind you.
“Don’t flatter yourself, doll. You’re the only one here,” he replied, a teasing back in his tone, and no matter how tense it was or how forced it felt, it made your heart skip a beat.
You smiled, shaking your head. Leave it to the two of you to find the humor in a situation like this. Biting down on your lip, you tried to suppress the grin, though it did little use.
Then, you heard the soft fall of his shirt to the floor. Quickly followed by the pants of his suit, dropping to the ground in a heap. He exhaled a breath that sounded as though he hadn’t done so in years and you found yourself wondering what he looked like standing there behind you, naked and aching, harder than he’d ever been in his life.
“Swear you won’t tell Sam about this.”
You shook your head, chewing on the inside of your cheek to hold back another laugh. “No promises.”
“Y/n.”
“You’ve got to be in crippling pain, Buck. You don’t have time to be embarrassed right now,” you shot back teasingly. “Stop edging.”
“Fine, okay,” he grumbled back, though you could hear the light in his voice, even if it was a little tense. “Just… give me a second.”
The room became impossibly quiet, painfully so, and you waited under bated breath for something to happen. The smile slowly left your lips, fading into a restless frown as you listened intently to his labored breathing, the tight groans of pain, until finally, his hand circled around the base of his cock.
The whine that left his lips was near sinful, and you felt your own breath hitch in your chest as you listened to soft whimpers parting his lips as he stroked himself, covering his length in the precum dropping at his tip. Heavy breaths and wet pumps of his closed hand around his cock, and you clenched your thighs together, wondering how his eyes might travel over your frame.
But God – those sounds he made were beautiful. You could picture him tugging his lower lip between his teeth, his eyes fluttering shut, his shoulders slacking, knees falling a little weak the harder he gripped at himself. Little murmurs of ‘oh god,’ and ‘fuck yes,’ and ‘please’ as he fucked his fist.
You didn’t know how much time had passed by, but your lip was nearly chewed raw, nails indented into the palms of your hands. You could hear how close he was, how his movements picked up in pace, how his breaths labored, how his moans filled the room higher and higher until – it stopped.
Sudden and aching, he lost it before the fall and your heart broke as you heard him cry out in pain.
“Bucky?” you called softly, not daring to turn around to face him after he asked you not to. Your heart was pounding in your chest, hands clenched tight, and you swore your knees would buckle out from under you if you unlocked them for even a second.
“Fuck, I… I can’t...”
“Bucky, are you okay?” you tried again, worried. There was a panic in his voice that wasn’t there before, a desperate longing etched into every syllable, and it scared you.
“I can smell you,” he said simply, achingly.
Your breath hitched and you squeezed your legs together. There was a throbbing there, an emptiness you couldn’t quite shake. “Do you... Do you want me to leave?”
“No,” he replied quickly and you could tell he was contemplating his options. He was growing desperate and that lingering sense of control he maintained was slipping through his fingers. “No, I— You were right. I can’t do it on my own. I need—fuck. I need…”
“Just ask,” you offered again, head tilting just enough to the side that he could see your face but you kept your stare to the wall. “I’m here. I’m saying yes. Just tell me what you need.”
“You.”
It surprised you as he said it; a little lower, a little darker, but certain.
Slowly, you turned to face him.
Sculpted by Michelangelo himself, Bucky carried the most beautiful lines across his body; divots along muscles and carvings of delicate design. You could tell he expected your eyes to fall straight to his shoulder, to the mess of scars and metal he loathed, or to the vulnerability standing hard in his grasp, but instead, you kept your gaze focused on his eyes.
Bucky stood completely naked before you, his right hand still pumping slowly around his cock as you edged forward. He watched you, biting at his lip as he flicked his thumb over his tip. Eyes trailed down over your frame greedily, hungrily, as if the act of simply looking was enough to draw a twitch from his cock. He tugged his lip between his teeth, tightening his grip around himself.
As you came up beside him, you reached up and sat your hand against his right shoulder, watching how he closed his eyes in response, how his jaw slacked. His lazy thrusts evened out, slowing down, as you traced your hand down his arm, simply lost in your touch. Your hand slid down his bicep, over raised muscle, along his forearm to his wrist, and then, you gently nudged his hand from his cock and replaced it with your own.
His lips fell open, a slight tremble in his breath as you gripped him. His forehead dropped to your shoulder, leaning against you as he caged you to what appeared to be an interrogation table. You felt the warped metal against your thighs from where he’d clutched at it just moments earlier.
Steadily, you began to pump him in your hand, careful to spread the wet of his precum down his shaft. He was hard within your grasp, painfully so, enough that you could feel the crystal outline of a vein running up along the underside. You pressed your thumb against it as you slid your hand up to his tip and brushed it over his slit. The whine he released against your neck was the most beautiful sound you ever heard.
“This okay?”
“S’good.” He nodded meekly against your collar but you could feel the strain in his shoulders, the restraint that left his jaw wired shut and breaths tight.
“It’s not enough, though. Is it?” you asked gently, though you knew the answer. You knew what he needed and your hand, or even your mouth, would not be enough. The Hydra scientists knew what they were doing when they designed this. It had a very specific purpose and it would not yield for anything less.
“You don’t have to, Y/n,” he said, stronger than you’d heard his voice since he was injected. It took nearly all his strength.
You smiled, letting your free hand cup at the side of his face. He leaned into the touch, seeking more, almost instinctively. Bucky was a complicated man; capable of light-hearted jokes in the middle of a warzone and an immeasurable guilt and shame that had not left him in his years since he was freed from Hydra. He was your closest friend, your partner in the field, a man that you trusted above all others, a man you cared for in ways he would never quite understand.
“I’m here, Bucky. I’ve got you,” you whispered sweetly, but you could still feel his hesitance. “Listen to me, I’ll leave if you really want me to. I’ll stop if this isn’t what you want. But please, don’t send me away and leave you suffer through this alone because you think I don’t want you. I do, Buck. I want you. I want to make you feel good. I want to take away your pain. Let me.”
He stared at you for a moment, a strange mixture of disbelief and longing upon his features. Slowly his hands lifted from the table and felt for the clasp at the back of your suit. You nodded at him, and slid the zipper down your spine, exposing perfect, untouched skin. He pealed it down along your shoulders, over your chest and down your waist. You helped him remove it down to your feet and kicked it off to the floor beside his own.
His eyes drifted to your chest, hands itching to reach out, but he held them firm at his sides.
“It’s okay, Buck. You can touch me,” you told him, reaching behind your back and releasing the clasp of your bra. The straps fell down your shoulders and you let the fabric slip from you. Bucky swallowed, his eyes drifting to your exposed chest. A smile started to curve upon your lips the longer he stared at you, like you were something to revere.
“You’re so beautiful,” he murmured quietly, almost to himself, as if saying it purely for the state of fact.
Your heart skipped a beat, lips parting in a slight shock, and you wondered if this was what it was like for the women he brought home on cold, lonely nights from the bar. You’d seen the content smiles on their faces in the morning as they sauntered out of his room with messy hair and a blissful kind of look in their eyes.
Bucky wasn’t the cold, calculating man the papers made him out to be. He was kind, exceptionally sweet, and a selfless to a fault. You didn’t suspect he was any different in a bedroom.
He shook his head, a ghost of a smile on his lips. “I never thought this would be how—"
But then— his face started to contort and suddenly Bucky was keening over. He clutched at his stomach, digging his nails deep into the muscle and he nearly collapsed to his knees.
“Bucky!”
You grabbed a firm hold of his right arm, just enough to keep him steady, and even the smallest of touches alone seemed to ignite something in him. Goosebumps littered his skin and a sweet kind of whine escaped past his lips as you ran a hand soothingly along his spine.
“Come on, we don’t have a lot of time,” you warned gently. It was a miracle within itself he was still on his feet. This serum had put ordinary men into shock within minutes if they didn’t find release. Never enough to kill them, but just enough to make them wish it would.
Bucky followed you back to the table at the center of the room, his hand clasped tightly in your own. It was the most physical affection you’d shown for one another, a tenderness outside of the rush of foreign chemicals in his veins, and you tried not to think about the fallout you were bound to find after.
He helped to guide you onto the table, resting your back against the cool, metal surface. Then, slowly, he crawled on top of you. His eyes drifted down to your panties and you lifted your hips for him, giving him the permission he needed to pull them down your legs.
His hand slid down along your curves, drawing goosebumps in his wake, until he swiftly slid his fingers between your thighs. Dipping into the wetness at your core, he spread his fingers around, lubricating himself until he slid two easily inside of you.
“Oh, Bucky,” you moaned, back arching as he pumped them against your walls. “God, that feels—so good.”
His left hand was curled tightly into a fist near you head as he propped his body weight up against the arm; gears whirring, the scars at the base of his shoulder red in the strain of it. One quick glance at the tension coating his muscles, the sharp breaths in his chest, the whine as his cock touched your thigh, and you were pulled swiftly from the clouds, a startling reminder why you were doing this in the first place.
“Hey, don’t worry about me,” you told him, a little breathless as he added the third finger. “I’m fine, Buck. You need to come. This isn’t about me.”
He shook his head, determined. “You’re not ready yet.”
You chuckled, a heat of embarrassment washing over you, even as he scissored his fingers, stretching your walls. You had to choke back a moan and the urge to clamp your thighs together around his wrist.
“I’m more than ready,” you said, voice a little higher, hands clenching at the sides of the table as you felt your walls tightening around his fingers. “Trust me, Buck. Just listening to you touch yourself was enough.”
You laughed again but the room was thick in tension, almost unbearably so. Bucky could hardly hear you. His hair had fallen down to shield his face, his gaze focused on where his fingers were lost to the most intimate parts of you; determined.
“It has to be good for you,” he muttered out slowly. You narrowed your eyes on him, growing worried as he seemed to retreat within himself. He was distant, his mind far away from his body. “It has to be good… it has to be good for you otherwise… otherwise I’m… I’m...”
He wouldn’t say it but you knew what he meant.
“Bucky, come back to me.” You reach up and grabbed a firm hold of his cheeks, thumbs at his jawline, and drew his attention to your eyes. It took him a moment to get there, but you found ocean blue again, even if it was clouded in dark, stormy skies. “I’m okay. Don’t worry about how I feel, alright? Just do what you need to, I’ll be fi—”
“I won’t use you like that!” Bucky snapped defiantly, startling you. “I don’t care that it feels like my skin is on fire and there’s knives carving through my body. I don’t care that I feel like I’m going to pass out and everything in me is fighting to force my way onto you and take what I want regardless of what it does to you! I don’t care! You’re my best friend and I… I…” He was panting, red in the face, and he couldn’t seem to find his words. He swallowed, though it looked as though it burned. “It has to be good for you, okay?”
You nodded, running your hands gently along his arms; his left, solid metal, unwavering, and his right trembled deep within the tissue – the gentle movements of his forearm pressed up against your stomach, his fingers searching out a pleasure he so desperately needed you to feel.
“I…” he started before he clenched his jaw. A heavy exhale followed, a drop of his gaze, and he muttered out weakly, “I need to pretend this is real.”
Your lips parted in shock; heart stammering so painful in your chest you wondered if he could hear it. Before you could say anything, before you could ask him what he meant by that, Bucky let his fingers slip out from between your legs, resting slicked against your thigh. The emptiness was startling.
“I think you’re ready for me now.”
Bucky nestled himself between your legs, lined his length your entrance with a gentle sweep of his top through your folds. He shivered, something near violent as it shook through his spine, and you were reminded again that Bucky was suffering, that he had a foreign chemical in his veins that ripped away his control and left him powerless to Hydra.
His skin was flushed red, sweat beading on his forehead and down his neck. There were sharp marks in the palm of his right hand where he dug his own nails into his skin. His breaths were coming in quickly and uneven.
“Look at me,” you ordered, stern enough to draw his attention. “Don’t hold back. You need to get this out, okay? I will tell you if it’s too much.”
It took him a moment, a breath of contemplation, before he nodded; slow and hesitant. You could see the strain in his jawline, the tension in his shoulders from how much he was restraining himself. It must have been agonizing, but Bucky had been through worse in his life. You supposed pain had become a familiar friend, one he learned to tame and control, even when it ripped him apart.
The moment he pressed his tip past your entrance, as he bottomed out in one thrust, as he felt your walls squeeze tightly around him for the first time, Bucky nearly came on the spot. He gasped into your shoulder, sucking marks against your skin as he rolled his hips against you. Slow and steady at first, reveling in the feel of being consumed whole, of being taken so well, of a rush of endorphins and pleasure he’d never felt even in the peak of sex. Everything was heightened, every touch was immaculate; he could feel your heartbeat through the walls squeezing at his cock.
“Oh, f-fuck,” he moaned against your ear, breath hot, voice dangerously low. “Fuck you feel so good, sweetheart. So fucking good. Goddamn perfect.”
You nodded, arms circling up around his shoulders as you rolled your hips to meet his own. You could still feel the stone carved tension in his muscle, how much he was holding back from what he needed. He was trying to be gentle with you, loving in a way the serum was not designed for, but it was testing him. He wouldn’t give into it, not in the way you asked him to, because Bucky had already lost so much to Hydra, already lost pieces of his mind and body, he would not let them take his soul, too.
“Just for you.” The words passed through your lips before you could quite catch onto their meaning. Your hands slipped down his chest as you brushed your thumbs against his nipples. He moaned, hips picking up in pace. He needed the encouragement, you realized. It was the only way he’d allow himself the release he needed to free his body of that serum.
He needed to pretend it was real.
He needed to pretend that you weren’t laying upon a cold, unforgiving table in an old Hydra base, that maybe this was something more than the consequences of a vile he didn’t ask for.
The line between the fantasy and reality was painfully thin.
“F-fuck, you’re so tight,” he mumbled breathily. The table began to squeak with every snap of his hips, with every drag of his cock at your core, the brush of his tip to the sweetest spot. It was easy to lose yourself in him, to forget that you were in an abandoned Hydra cell, that he had a foreign chemical in his veins determined to destroy him. He felt like heaven.
“S’all yours,” you whispered, drawing your hands down along his waist, slipping over his hips and gripping into the soft flesh of his ass. You pulled him deeper into you, daring him to go further. His pupils were blown so wide, you could barely see the blue in his eyes. He was slipping, barely holding into the restraint he so desperately clung to, and you rolled your hips at just the right angle, squeezed him enough to draw a mangled cry from his lips.
You kissed at the dip of his collar, sucking sweetly as he all but purred in response. Your lips mapped a path up his neck, along his jaw line, over cheekbones and at the tip of his nose, until you paused at his mouth. His heart was pounding, thunderous in his chest, and his hips seemed to pick up in pace with every kiss.
It wasn’t until you captured his lips against your own that Bucky lost the last ounce of control he had been clinging onto.
Something like a growl purred against your lips, a sound near feral, and the gentle push of his hips like ocean waves against you turned into quick, harsh snaps. He pulled his lips from you, trailing hot, wet kisses down your neck, until he found the place he was looking for and sunk his teeth to the crook of your shoulder.
“Ah, Bucky!”
All consuming. Feverish. A man untamed and he did not relent, not as your walls tightened around him like the twist of a coil, or as the sound of skin and wetness between your legs echoed high into the room, or when his fingers touched at your clit and rubbed harsh, quick and pressured circles until you were crying out so loudly, it must have carried through the whole base.
“Fuck! Ah, God, Bucky, don’t stop!”
Bucky groaned against you, sucking a mark where his teeth had met your flesh. You could feel the vibration of his voice against your skin, the pulse of his cock in your cunt, the thick vein that ran along his underside as it added so sweetly to the pressure at your entrance. It was wild and unhinged, but God – it was good.
“Y-yeah, baby, right there,” Bucky moaned, his thrusts falling uneven, haphazard, needy. “F-fuck, I’m gonna come. I’m gonna—ah, ah, f-fuck—”
The heat of him, the way he filled you so perfectly, the rush, and it pushed you over the edge. White hot and intoxicating, the wash of it broke open in floodgates and swept through you. His fingers did not let up on your clit as you squirmed and withered below him, his thrusts falling lazy as he chased the end of his release.
Breathless and a little dizzy as you came down from your high, you felt his heartbeat inside of you; quick, but even. The serum had done its work. It released him from its hold.
Bucky was panting, the full of his weight having fallen onto you. His hair was wet with sweat, messy and untamed, and the room smelled distinctly of sex. But more than that, it was unbearably silent.
Slowly, Bucky began to pry himself off of you, allowing his softened cock to slip from between your legs, slick and satisfied. He swallowed, a blush creeping onto his cheek as he pushed his hair behind his ear.
“Are you alright?” he asked.
You chuckled, propping yourself up on your elbows as you watched him quickly tug his pants back on before he bent down and picked up your suit for you, handing it gingerly to you upon the table with a shy sort of smile.
“Alright? I’m great.” You grinned over at him, glowing in the aftermath of your release. “You feel okay now?”
He nodded, a nervous smile tugging on his lips as he watched you jump down from the table and step into your suit. His eyes must have lingered on your thighs where his cum was still slick along the skin from his release because his smile began to fall, his jaw tightly clenched.
“SHEILD has me on birth control, Buck. Don’t worry about that,” you told him softly. You tugged the sleeves back up your arms, though it proved difficult with the lingering sweat on your skin. You flipped your hair over your shoulder and turned your back to him. “Do you mind?”
He cleared his throat awkwardly, shuffling forward to zip up the back of your suit. He brushed a few stray strands of hair over your shoulder, the gentle sweep of cool metal a relief against the hot flush of your skin; impossibly tender for a man capable of the things he was.
“So,” he started, a nervous chuckle in his voice as he grasped hold of the zipper, “should we talk about this or—”
“Bucky? Y/n? You guys read me?”
Steve.
“Seems the coms are back on,” you sighed, stepping to the side after Bucky finished zipping your suit. He was still holding his tactical vest in his hand, along with the one-armed jacket. His hair was untamed, cheeks flushed, and you imagined you looked of the same.
“We got you, Steve,” Bucky replied, though it seemed rather reluctant. “Where you been, man? You dropped us in a warzone.”
“Yeah, I figured that out,” Steve grumbled back. “Get to the jet. We’ll debrief on the way back. Don’t forget to rig the place to blow on your way out.”
“Right,” you rolled your eyes, grinning at Bucky as he slipped his jacket on. “Certainly, can’t forget the one thing you sent us here to do.”
“Unless you’ve got more Hydra agents hiding in the wings?” Bucky added on and you could practically see Steve deadpan from the cockpit.
“Just get out of there before I come get you myself.”
You laughed as you slid the batons back into the holsters at your shoulder blades.
It was strange, how quickly it felt as if nothing had changed at all. Maybe it hadn’t. Maybe it was a quick release and you were simply helping a friend. Maybe it was something neither of you would speak of again and you’d go right back to being partners, friends, as if it never happened.
But as you turned around at the edge of the room, a smile wide upon your face, you found Bucky watching you with a kind of look in his eye you couldn’t quite place. It wasn’t one you recognized, wasn’t one you’d seen in him before. It was something new.
His eyes flickered to your collarbone where a mark upon your skin was growing discolored; bite marks and bruising where his mouth had been. A strange mixture of remorse and longing, affection and need, all rolled into one.
“You ready, Buck?”
He nodded quickly, snapping himself from his gaze with a pressed smile. It didn’t quite reach his eyes, though he tried. He met you at the edge of the room, trailing a few steps behind you, and you turned around to find him staring back into the cell, like he was trying to preserve a memory of some kind.
You realized as you watched Bucky clear his throat awkwardly, turning back to you with a gentle blush of pink in his cheeks, that there was no pretending you hadn’t crossed a line together. There was no going back.
you do not have permission to repost, translate, or take my works. all works are of fiction—i do not own the rights to any characters involved. MINORS DNI—18+ ONLY
