Summary : Empty meeting rooms are not supposed to be used for fucking your boyfriend before a mission. But since when do you follow any rules?
Warnings : 18+ MDNI, smut, oral (m rec.), semi public sex, dick pronouns, kinda sub Bucky.
Word Count : 260 (yayy)
“Baby, I gotta leave” Bucky grunts “Lena would—fuck—she'd kick my ass if I'm late”
“But I'm having such a good time, buck” you tease, pulling your mouth away from his cock and making him whine at the loss of your warmth.
You kiss the tip of him, swollen and blushed and so happy to see you. “Fuck, honey, I can't, not right now”
“You say that but your cock tells me otherwise. He tells me he wants my mouth. My cunt. He wants to be inside me all day” You graze a nail against the sensitive underside and he curses at the feeling.
“You're such a—”
“Slut for you? I am!” You complete his sentence before the words make their way out of him mouth.
“I was gonna say menace. But that works too” He teases and you punish him by wrapping your mouth around his cock.
He moans, fingers tangling in your hair as you bob your head faster. “Baby, I'm—fuck—I’m gonna—” He comes with a choked groan and your name in his mouth.
He pulls you up swiftly, metal palm still resting in your hair as he kissed you fervently before tugging his jeans up and rewearing his misson gear.
You wait until he's done and about to leave before grasping his hand and pulling him back towards you. “You're not leaving until I'm full of you”
Warnings: Reader is described to have curls, detailed stalker behavior, Stockholm syndrome (?) please let me know if I missed anything!
Playlist Prompt: Mack the Knife - Bobby Darin / “And he shows them pearly white”
Summary: Your sweet tooth will be your downfall
WC: 578
A/N: Day 3 of June Jukebox Scribbles by @societynsoelsscribbles . I'm not too happy with this one GRRR.
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You didn't want to stop, you knew he could be close, but the heat on your car decided to stop working on one of the coldest nights of November .
Maybe kicking it didn't help, — stupid thing. —
The diner looked so warm and inviting, the thought of a cup of coffee with a slice of pie was enough to make you steer into the empty parking lot.
You were so fucking tired.
As you hoped, tables were clear, not a soul in sight except for the cook and the waitress, you made sure you knew where all the exits and entrances were before you went in, tucking your curls into your hoodie. You didn't use to be so paranoid, but when you heard him trying to break into your apartment in the middle of the night, as soon as the sun came out you packed a bag and texted your parents you were visiting.
All your life, safety and comfort was all you knew, so when a handsome stranger payed for your drink in your favorite coffee shop, you smiled back at him; never even thinking that he'd been watching you long before that day.
It wasn't out of nowhere, every Monday morning when you got coffee, he was there, and when you bumped into him for the first time as you left work, you never noticed he placed his AirPods into your bag.
The letters you found in your mailbox, your office, even at the gym weren't even the worst of it, when your dates disappeared after you returned from the bathroom, running out like their life depended on it, or when your landlord stopped asking for rent and always avoided eye contact…
How you let him insert himself into your life like this, was baffling.
After driving for hours, every bone in your body ached, even sitting down on a booth took effort. Despite the obvious lack of upkeep you liked that you could see the pass of time, every nook and cranny held history, the 50s music they played only kept it frozen in time.
For a moment you could breathe again.
As the nice waitress carefully sets your order on the table, you smile for the first time in what felt like forever, you didn't waste a second to dig into your pie, as soon as you did you almost chocked; the memory of his hand tracing the back of your neck invaded your thoughts, how despite his rough and calloused touch, he was gentle… even sweet.
It felt so real, and when your back shivered you realized you weren't relieving a memory, he was behind you.
"You're such a sweet tooth" He grinned, showing them pearly white; endeared by the big dollop of whip cream on top of your apple pie. You thought he would be angry with you, but he was genuinely happy to see you, your heart did this weird thing in response.
It dawned on you, maybe you didn't run away because he scared you… maybe you ran because it scared you just how easy you were willing to fall into his arms.
Reading you like a book, Bucky had this knowing look in his eyes, he offered you his hand like he was certain you would take it, the dimming light of the diner made him look almost angelic…
You were so fucking tired, it wasn't until you were getting into his car that you realized you took it.
For the June Jukebox Scribbles challenge, hosted by @societynsoelsscribbles | June 2nd: Season of the Witch - Donovan / “When I look out my window” *swapped prompt
A/N: I'm back in the fucking building-
//
“Oh, for fuck’s sake,” Bucky cursed. Groaning to himself, he stopped for the midnight sight at his bedroom window.
New neighbors could be tough but Bucky considered himself a reasonable man. Reasonable enough to know he shouldn’t be hesitating to pull his curtain closed, give you your privacy for… whatever the hell it was you were doing. Only he couldn’t make himself move.
He vaguely recalled his phone conversation with Sam.
“No, Sam, it’s ridiculous, she sits on the grass, in this circle of candles at midnight… And when I look out my window, she’s just there…” Bucky gulped, remembering your hardened nipples, “... butt naked. I mean, fuck, isn’t it too cold to–”
“Must be the season of the witch,” Sam replied, barely containing his laughter.
“Remind me why I tell you anything at all?”
“Uhhh, cause you need my help.”
“No, I don’t.”
“Yes, you do. You’ve got the hots for your neighbor and you want someone to tell you to go over there.”
Yeah, fine. You were weird and hot, but Bucky couldn’t look you in the eye, let alone hold a conversation, knowing how hard you got him.
Bucky snapped out of his trance when you suddenly opened your eyes, waved and winked at him. He all but threw himself onto the floor, snatching the curtain to close it. He dragged his hand down his face. Dammit.
Exactly two pitiful days passed before Bucky bumped into you on a run.
“Bucky, right?” You grinned. He hoped you didn’t recognize him as your neighbor.
“Yeah, uh–” he gulped, nodding.
You gave him a once over before introducing yourself.
“Nice to meet you.” Bucky offered politely.
“Yeah, nice to–” You cut yourself off with a laugh. “You know what? See ya around, peeker.” You smirked before walking off.
Pairing: Bucky Barnes x fem!reader
Authors note: here goes my next entry for the June Jukebox Scribbles event.
June 4th June 4th - Right Place, Wrong Time - Dr. John / “But I'm having such a good time”
Dividers by @/saradika-graphics
Warnings: SMUT 18+
Word Count: 300
Summary: it's kinda my version of why it went poorly when Bucky spoke to Sam about the New Avengers 😅. Bucky thinks he can tease you during an important breefing until you find him during a video call with Sam...
“The extraction point is here,” you tap with your finger on your padlet, and an image appears on the screen at the end of the room.
All heads turn toward it. All but one. Bucky sits next to you, looking far too innocent for the way his metal hand is sliding up your inner thigh under the long table.
“There are several retreat routes…,” your voice suddenly takes a higher pitch and you choke as his fingers brush higher, teasing the edge of your panties.
Fuck, wearing a skirt to the breefing was definitely a mistake.
You glance at him with a pleading face. The smug look he gives you makes your hand itch to smack him if only the whole team wouldn’t be here to witness it.
You grab a scrap of paper, scribble something and slide it toward him.
Stop!
Bucky reads, writes something back and flicks the note your way.
But I'm having such a good time.
The video call has just started as you slip inside the small meeting room. Bucky raises his eyes from the screen and waves dismissingly.
You almost turn around to leave but then stop suddenly. There is just a moment of hesitation before you drop to your knees and crawl under the desk.
“It’s not really about the copyright, Sam, isn’t it…,” Bucky’s voice suddenly fades into a sharp gasp as you settle between his spread thighs and unzip his pants.
You smile wickedly as Bucky’s metal hand grips the armrest. He’s already half-hard when you pull him free.
“Stop it,” he hisses under his breath, muting his mic for half a second.
You look up at him through your lashes.
“But I’m having such a good time,” you whisper and drag your tongue slowly up the underside of his cock.
updated May 3 2026. I'm separating the dialogue prompts into their respective sections. Went through Anger & Angst Lists the last few days & separated them into smaller lists. Will be working on the horror/Apocalyptic list next!
PLEASE reblog if you use any of these/wanna share with your writer friends!!
♪ Prompt | Mack the Knife by Bobby Darin | Scarlet billows start to spread.
♪ Summary | Maybe...grabbing a cast iron skillet wasn't the best idea...
♪ Warnings + Tags | Mature fic warning!!! Mentions of Stockholm Syndrome, blood mention, death briefly mentioned, talks of cannibalism
♪ Phoenix Chirps | Please heed the warnings! This one's a tad dark. Steve Kemp, where do I begin? I know it makes me an awful person, but I would've gladly adopted to his lifestyle...also three days of staying UNDER the word limit. Let us rejoice!
♪ Word Count | 300
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This was supposed to be easy. Or at least a way to prove that you no longer needed to be kept in a cell like a lamb awaiting slaughter.
The parameters Steve Kemp had set forth were two fold. One, find a victim. Two, bring her to him. As a reward, your shackles would be loosened - both physically and mentally.
Maybe you shouldn't have let Stockholm Syndrome take over. But you knew that the man that courted you for months and slept in your bed before he kidnapped you to upstate New York was still in there. And if by bringing him a victim you would be able to live in domestic bliss? Well, there was shockingly little that would stand in your way.
"Steve, I - I fucked up," your voice trembled, watching scarlet billows start to spread onto the stark white tiles. That was going to be a bitch to clean. Your weapon of choice, a cast iron skillet, clattered to the floor as the events of what transpired caught up to you.
Okay, maybe a skillet shouldn't have been the first thing to reach your grasp, but you were desperate. Days of trying to convince your new 'friend' to take a trip with you was making you grow impatient. And with Steve dangling the promise like a carrot, you…snapped. In a panic, you called the only person you could for help.
A deep sigh sounded on the other end of the line. "Was she scared when you hit her?"
"No…no, she didn't even know it was coming."
A hum of approval had your heart leaping. Maybe you hadn't fucked up too terribly. "Then the meat is still salvageable. I'll be there soon to help you, sweets. I'm so proud of you for doing what I asked."
Pairing: Professor!Bucky Barnes x F!Student!Reader
Warnings: Toxic relationship (but not in the way you think), Dom and Sub dynamic, reader is over 25 and Bucky's 40yo, mommy kink, lactation kink implied, pls let me know if I missed anything.
Playlist Prompt: I Wanna Be Bad - Willa Ford / “No I can't promise that I won't do that”
Summary: Professor Barnes tries to break up with you.
WC: 426
A/N:: Day 2 of June Jukebox Scribbles Challenge by @societynsoelsscribbles . I might delve more into this later 👀
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"This is what's best not only for you but for me as well… it's only a matter of time before someone talks to the administration".
— He looks stupid — was the first thing that popped into your head.
You loved him in that black sweater, made him look soft and sophisticated, suddenly you wanted to rip that thing off, slap some sense into him.
After an awkward amount of silence, you couldn't help but laugh "You're right"
The way his eyes stared at you, along with that subtle quiver of his lip told you he wasn't expecting that answer. Taking a step forward you purposefully avoided his eyes.
"We're clearly wrong for each other" you almost took his hand and when pulled away he followed you like a magnet.
Still refusing to look at him, you feel him hovering, the sound of his breath picking up.
Turning your back to him, "I deserve someone that wants me enough to stay", after more silence you think maybe he didn't hear you but then you feel his hands gripping your hips, with fear and care, like you might disappear into thin air.
"H-how could you say that?" He says just above a whisper, "look'it me— of course I want you", you smile at his response, you have him right where you want him…
"It's clear to me now that I'm too good for you" you sigh as if realizing your life is doomed, your name was on the tip of his tongue when interrupted "I think you're right, I should look for someone safe, sweet… maybe Steve" you wondered out loud.
With a pleased smile you watched Professor Barnes get on his knees while his arms surrounded you, gone was the highly respected scholar, and in his place your precious Bucky, your special little man.
"No nono! I'm sorry" he whines "he's stupid, I can be better, please I'll be so good mommy", he was desperate now, the glimmer in his eyes told you as much, your stone cold heart almost melted.
Leaning in, your breasts brushed his bearded face, the roughness against your soft skin making you purr; like a newborn puppy looking for milk, his lips searched for your warmth.
Your hands caressed his hair, enjoying the smell of his hair, you swear he was about to come when your fingernails scratched his scalp. "Don't tell me my Bucky's about to come in his pants just because I touched him" you scolded.
With a soft moan Bucky replies "No I can't promise that I won't do that".
With a pleased smile you watched Professor Barnes get on his knees while his arms surrounded you, gone was the highly respected scholar, and in his place your precious Bucky, your special little man.
Characters: Bucky Barnes & unnamed child, no romantic pairings
Word Count: 303
Audience: general
Synopsis: Bucky is recognized by a young fan.
A/N: June 1st submission for June Jukebox Scribbles with the song prompt Joy to the World by Three Dog Night. Lyrics in bold.
Event Masterlist | Main Masterlist | AO3
“Aren’t you Bucky Barnes?”
Bucky looks from the museum exhibit plaque down to the inquisitor. Apparently the ball cap isn’t enough to hide his identity. A young boy beams up at him, one front tooth missing.
“You are,” he whispers, eyes growing wide.
Bucky holds a finger up to his mouth and the boy nods, complying.
“Did you really know the first Captain America?” The boy whispers.
Bucky glances around quickly, scanning the room for a caregiver, but not seeing anyone. He nods toward a nearby bench, and they both take a seat.
“Are you here with a grown-up?” Bucky asks.
"Yeah, but my baby brother threw up so my mom is in the bathroom changing him. She told me to stay in this room."
"Okay," Bucky says, silently vowing to stay here until his mom returns to keep an eye on him.
"So… did you know him?" The boy asks, nodding toward a large photo of Steve in his first Captain America suit.
"Yeah, he was a good friend of mine. We grew up together."
"What was it like being a soldier?" He asks as his legs dangle from the bench seat.
Bucky steeples his fingers while he thinks of an appropriate way to explain war to a child.
"It was scary most of the time," he starts, "but if you found something or someone to fight for, it made you brave."
"Who did you fight for?" He asks, looking up at Bucky.
Steve, he thinks, but doesn't say it. He settles on, "Everyone I loved."
"My mom says you were a ladies man," the boy retorts.
Bucky laughs and shakes his head. "I'm not sure how that rumor got started, but I did love to have my fun."
"Mom!" The boy exclaims, jumping up from the bench. "Come meet my friend!"
Summary: A night in has Bucky reflecting on time lost.
Warnings: a male bodily reaction is briefly mentioned
AN: Entry for June Jukebox Scribbles over @societynsoelsscribbles, using prompt: June 1 Joy To The World - Three Dog Night/ “I never understood a single word he said”. Divider courtesy of @saradika-graphics
WC: 300
The cold, gray rain was gusting against the window of your Brooklyn apartment. You’re tucked against Bucky on the couch, wearing nothing but his oversized hoodie, legs tangled in his lap. You are both reading, enjoying each other's company.
Bucky’s metal fingers trace patterns up your thigh, stopping just short of where you want them.
You tilt your head, listening to the low song drifting from the speaker. “I never understood a single word he said,” you quietly sing along.
“What year did that song come out?” Bucky asks, his eyes locking onto yours.
“1970.”
Bucky hums as his gaze drops. Instantly his mood has shifted.
“What’s up babe?” you asked, closing your book.
“I missed so much,” Bucky sighs. “I don’t know if I was being used then, or in cryo… still sorting out memories.”
Your heart breaks. “Bad people took choices away from you for a long time. When something terrible happens, sometimes the most important thing isn’t pretending it never happened.”
Bucky’s eyes flick briefly towards you.
“It’s deciding what kind of person you’re gonna be afterward. And you,” you remark as you climb onto his lap, “are a good man.”
You press a small kiss to his lips as you settle over him.
Bucky’s eyes lock on yours, his hands at your waist, keeping you in place. He leans in, lips brushing against yours as your fingers curl into his shirt. You shift, pressing closer, feeling him hard beneath you. The ache, the desire is thick and building.
“Tell me what you’re thinking right now,” you murmur, lips brushing his jaw.
“I would’ve been 52 in 1970.”
“Well it’s a good thing I’ve always had a penchant for older men,” you tease as his metal hand slides up your back under the hoodie, warm and possessive.
Authors note: here goes my next entry for the June Jukebox Scribbles event. June 2nd - I Wanna Be Bad - Willa Ford / “ Tell me what to do, how to be; Teach me all your rules from A to Z"
Dividers by @/saradika-graphics
Warnings: canon typical violence, shooting
Word Count: 300
Summary: reader saves Bucky's life, but he doesn't seem happy about it
The mission went to hell in seconds with Bucky pinned down by crumbling concrete and gunfire raining from all sides.
“Fuck,” you cursed as your magazine clicked empty, leaving you with only one reasonable option–to look for the cover before you got perforated like a sieve.
Split of a second your eyes wandered around before locking on an abandoned rifle a few feet ahead close to Bucky. Reasonable had never really been your thing.
"What are you doing?" Bucky shouted as you slid down beside him. "Leave me! Get out of here!"
"The fuck I will."
You grabbed the rifle with one hand and hooked the other around his waist.
"Barnes, you should really consider eating less," you grunted under his weight.
"What the hell were you thinking?" your back hit the wall the moment you stepped out of the med bay. "I gave you a direct order,” Bucky shouted, metal hand slamming beside your head.
“To leave you to die? Screw your orders, Barnes.”
You and Winter Grouch hated each other. It was an open secret. Still, you hadn’t expected to be yelled at for saving his damn life.
"You know there are rules, right?" he growled. "Like it or not, you're going to learn to follow them."
“Rules? You really think you can tell me what to do, how to be?" You snarled back at him and tilted your chin defiantly. "Listen carefully, Barnes. I’m not a baby. You can teach me all your rules from A to Z, and watch me break them one by one."
“You could’ve been killed!” Bucky’s jaw flexed so hard you half-expected to hear teeth crack.
"That's..."
The rest of the sentence never made it out. Bucky’s mouth crashed against yours.
Pairing : Bucky x Reader (assume they're in their 40s)
Summary : a car ride, an old song, and memories worth lifetime.
Word Count : 360 (I know, I'm sorry)
The wind hits your face like waves hitting the bow of a ship, splattering your hair into your face and making you giggle every time bucky tries to drag a stray strand of your hair behind your ear and loses control on the steering wheel slightly.
“Your driving skills are rusty, old man” you tease
He looks offended “You seemed to like my driving skills just fine last night”
He wiggles his brows at you and you nudge him with your elbow.
He chuckles.
The sound making you feel warm and fuzzy in the chest even after all these years.
The radio chooses the same moment to play your song.
“I never understood a single word he said”
The voice sharpens as you turn the dial up a notch, letting yourself be lost to the past.
Bucky turns to look at you. His eyes telling you that he is right there with you.
1970
A long drive and two teenagers in love. When the radio decided to play this song and you shared your first kiss at the tune of it.
“You remember this song?” You ask bucky, despite knowing he does remember it.
“I do” he nods eyes on the road but the picture behind his irises is of you.
You with your wild hair and wilder laugh. And how you sneaked your father's car keys just so he could take you out on a drive.
He remembers being flustered. Remembers wondering if you'd be impressed or repulsed. He remembers the entire length of your then very short relationship pass in front of him, worried if he'll make it last.
Turns out the relationship lasted just fine.
You had wrinkles around your eyes now. His hair had streaks of gray. Your children had moved out to go to college and you were back to how you were when you just got married.
Just you two.
And in a fleeting moment it hits bucky. That he got to see the woman with wild hair and wilder laugh turn into this majestic person he got to live his life with.
A NAFTK prequel drabble. Eventual Bucky/Reader, General Audiences, 100 words exactly. This drabble meets the requirements for @marveldrabblechallenge June Challenge (New Teammate) and @societynsoelsscribbles June Jukebox Scribbles (Joy to the World by Three Dog Night).
Summary:
Why is Bucky's new teammate singing?!?!?
She's singing. They're in the middle of a mission, and she's singing.
"If I were the queen of the world..."
Bucky flashes a look at Barton, who just shrugs—and annoyingly, sings along.
"…I'd tell you what I'd do…"
It's a good song! protests Barton, as his arrow sends the Doombot spinning.
Bucky turns to her, ready to tell her to shut it.
"…And make sweet love—"
She stops abruptly, staring at him in utter shock, the song stuttering on her lips.
"Um," she stammers, "Next target?"
"Yeah," chokes out Bucky, and tries to ignore Barton laughing behind him.
PAIRING: congressman!bucky barnes x female reader
WORD COUNT: 300
WARNINGS: slight suggestive content(?), bucky really loves his girl, no use of y/n, established relationship.
SONG PROMPT: i wanna be bad by willa ford
LYRICS: “i won’t do that.” / “i wanna be bad.”
NOTE: so did we all see the photos of mr. stan looking too hot for his own good as soon as we woke up yesterday? because i did and crashed out and this was the outcome.
event masterlist | day one | day three | main masterlist
"Hey, baby."
You turn at the sound of Bucky's deep rumble and his keys hitting the trinket dish you keep near the front door.
"Hi," You greet softly from the couch.
He tilts his head back, throat bobbing and his eyes close for a second, resting briefly against the door like he's relishing in the sudden quiet of your shared apartment. You watch him with your bottom lip pulled between your teeth as he loosens his tie.
"Rough day?"
Bucky huffs a tired laugh, "Rough life."
He toes off his shoes, leaving them on the hazardous pile by the door and walks towards you, dropping down next to you— slouched, legs spread, his head resting against the back of the couch.
You give him a moment to settle, let the silence stretch, and before you could say anything he reaches for you. Bucky's hand grasps your hip and tugs, gentle but insistent, guiding you over until your astride his lap, enveloping you in his strong arms.
His eyes track your hands as they curl around his tie.
"You should get some sleep."
"No," Bucky rasps with a slow shake of his head, leaning up with his metal hand cradling the back of your head to kiss you— languid, unhurried, sensual.
"You're tired," His fingers tangle in your hair, "You should."
Bucky kisses the corner of your mouth, tucking your hair behind your ears as he cups your face, thumbs swiping across your cheekbones, "Won't do that."
"Bad boy." You tease softly, tugging him towards you, silk wrapped around your fists.
His lips twitch into a small, tired smile— something private and just for you, resting his forehead against yours and gently nudging your nose.
"Maybe I wanna be bad." He whispers as he leans in to steal a second kiss.
🏷️: @metal-armed-muse @juniebjonesin @kileyking @nightfirecomit @chocolatemilkshakex @spring-soldier @spideyskywalker + to be added to the tag list? comment on this post or send in an ask!
PAIRING: 40s!bucky barnes x female reader
WORD COUNT: 352 (not off to a great start lmao)
WARNINGS: fluff, reader works at a diner, no use of y/n.
SONG PROMPT: joy to the world by three dog night
LYRICS: “you know i love the ladies, love to have my fun.”
NOTE: thought i’d challenge myself to try and complete most of the prompts!! i wrote this one so quickly 😭
event masterlist | day two | main masterlist
Rain pours outside the diner as the day shifts to night.
It's late, and you hum along to the song that's been rolling around in your head for days as you clean the serving counter.
Your shoes click gently as you shuffle across the tiles with every swipe of your hand, getting closer to the end.
After this, you could finally head home.
The door dings behind you, the bell ringing above as it opens.
"Sorry, but we're closed!" You call out, scrubbing at a sticky substance that refuses to melt away.
"Even for me?" A smooth voice purrs, sweet like honey and definitely up to no good, "Say, what's a guy gotta do to get a coffee 'round here?"
You turn around and sigh at the sight of Bucky Barnes standing in front of the diner door, who's been trying to get you to do more than just work for weeks, looking like a drowned rat.
"Well, maybe showing up during opening hours might help with that," You quip, hands on your hips with a disapproving stare, "You’re dripping all over the floor. I just finished cleaning that!"
Bucky steps in anyway, walking up to the counter, "I'll have one pretty girl to take dancin', please."
"Bucky," You admonish.
He quirks an eyebrow.
Your head shakes, "No."
"You know I love the ladies," Bucky purrs with that easy-going grin, leaning against the counter, "Love to have my fun."
You roll your eyes, whipping the rag in your hand against his leaning arm with a thwack and he yelps.
"Hey, now! C'mon, darlin', I don't bite," He pauses, tilting his head, "unless you want me to."
"If I say yes, will you stop bothering me?"
Bucky's face lights up, "Can't promise you that, but I can promise you a good time."
"Let me finish up," You sigh in defeat, waving him off towards the door, "I'll be there."
"I'll be waiting, darlin'!"
Bucky swings the door open and disappears into the rain.
Now, you have to mop the floor and go dancing. . . but you suppose the latter isn't such a terrible thing.
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