niya

!18 and up only over here! im a reblog warrior yall, sorry to your notifications! i’m a levi and bucky girl first loll

[kazzzistired]

Feeling inspired... Might put off writing and think about it the whole time

[imnotjustreadingg-volume-two]

Messing up

No one died and there was no major injury, but it had been a split-second decision he made on the field that cost Y/N the shot she’d lined up for hours. She'd been livid.

Her glare sharp enough to cut through vibranium, said everything she didn’t because now she wasn’t speaking to him.

At all.

And that silence was worse than any bullet wound. Back at the compound, Bucky shuffled around the common floor, shoulders tense, watching her from a distance.

She ignored him.

Not a glance.

Not a single word.

Not even when he hovered by the kitchen, making her favourite tea.

He already missed her laugh, her teasing, her touch... god her touch.

Especially her touch.

Bucky wasn’t used anymore to the cold.

Not from her. Hell, it was just a couple of hours and he already missed her. He craved her warmth more than anything now. He missed the way she fit perfectly against his belly on the jet after mission. Or the way she leaned on him, injured or not.

He’d fucked up. So, he knocked.

Her room was quiet. He didn’t hear movement. Maybe she was ignoring him. Still, he whispered, “Y/N, please…”

Nothing.

“Doll, I-I need you.” He was begging. “Please, doll. I know it’s only a couple of hours but I’m going crazy…” The door opened after a few seconds. Her expression was unreadable. He swallowed hard. “I’m sorry. I didn’t trust you to take the shot. That was wrong. I know you’re capable. And I should’ve let you handle it.”

She leaned against the doorframe, arms crossed. “It wasn’t just about the shot, Buck. It was the way you looked at me. You decided for me.”

“I know,” he murmured, stepping closer. His voice trembled. “I was wrong, and I hate that I made you feel like that.”

Her eyes softened. He looked miserable. Eyes red-rimmed, face puffy. She reached out, fingers grazing the hem of his shirt. “You hurt me. You treated me like a baby... like I was in the wrong spot or in the wrong position...”

“I’ll make it up to you,” he breathed. “Please. Let me show you.”

Her hand slid under his shirt, over the soft curve of his belly.

He shivered. “You’ve been pouting since the mission ends,” she whispered, stepping back into the room, tugging him with her. “Poor baby.”

Bucky followed without hesitation. The door clicked shut. She pressed her lips to his neck, slow and lingering, and he groaned deep and needy. “I missed you,” he whispered against her shoulder. “Missed everything.”

“Then get on the bed.”

He obeyed instantly, large frame sinking into her mattress. She climbed on top, straddling his lap, fingers tracing the stretch marks at his sides.

“I love every part of you,” she said, eyes locking with his. “Even when you’re a dumbass.”

His hands gripped her hips as she kissed him, hard, teeth scraping his bottom lip. He moaned into her mouth, tugging her closer, needing to feel every inch of her pressed to him. When her hand slipped under his waistband, his breath hitched.

“Y/N-fuck.”

“Beg for me.”

“Please,” he whimpered, eyes blown wide. “I need you, doll. Need to feel you. Need to make it right.”

“You will,” she smirked, pulling off her shirt. “Starting now.”

Y/N stood up and went at the edge of the bed, watching him with unreadable eyes. Bucky sat up, cheeks flushed. His thick thighs spread slightly apart, tension coiled in every part of him. He looked at her like she was the only thing that mattered, because she was.

“On your knees,” she said softly, but it hit him like a command.

He obeyed instantly, sliding off the bed and sinking onto the floor before her. His flesh hand rested on her thigh, trembling slightly, while the cool metal of the other hovered at her hip.

“I’m sorry,” he murmured again, eyes locked on hers. “I’ll make it right. Let me show you how much I need you.”

She nodded once, slowly. “Then do it, Barnes. Show me.”

He leaned in, kissing the inside of her thigh slow, reverent. He didn’t rush. He took his time, trailing open-mouthed kisses up the soft skin, pausing just before her center. She could feel his breath, hot and shaky, ghosting over her heat.

“You’re everything to me,” he said, voice low and hoarse. “I wake up thinkin’ about you. I fall asleep wishin’ you’d touch me. I can’t breathe right when you’re mad at me.”

His hands gripped her hips, grounding himself as he buried his face between her thighs, tongue parting her folds with aching desperation. He groaned as soon as he tasted her deep, guttural, needy. He took her leg, tilting it until her knee rest on the bed, letting her stand on one leg only. The new position made almost buckled Y/N’s knee. He licked slowly at first, savored her. His beard scraped lightly against her skin as he worked, mouth moving with practiced devotion. He moaned into her, loud and unashamed. His hands didn’t wander, they held her in place reverent, like he was scared she’d pull away and he’d lose this.

Lose her.

“Fuck, Bucky…” she gasped, hand sinking into his hair. “That mouth should come with a warning.” He looked up at her, pupils blown, lips slick, chin wet.

“Yours,” he panted. “Always yours.”

Then he dove back in with more intensity, tongue circling her clit before sucking it between his lips. He flattened his tongue, dragged it up her slit, then flicked mercilessly until her leg began to shake. The one on the bed, now straight on Bucky’s shoulder. 

When did he put it there? She though.

Y/N bit her lip, head falling back. “God, don’t stop-”

“I won’t,” he promised, mouth still pressed to her. “I’m not stopping ‘til you come on my tongue. I need it. Need to taste you.”

He was messy with it now, greedy and desperate. His hands tightened on her thighs, holding her still as he fucked her with his mouth, tongue deep and nose brushing her clit. Every whimper she let out made him groan, hips rutting against the floor unconsciously. And when she finally came loud, breathless, back arching. He didn’t stop. He moaned like she’d just given him oxygen, lapping at her through the aftershocks, murmuring her name like a prayer between kisses. When he finally looked up, flushed and dazed, his lips were pink and swollen.

“I’ll spend every day making it up to you,” he whispered, chest heaving. “Just… tell me you’re mine again.”

Now both of the legs on the floor, she bent down and grabbed his face in her hands. She kissed him deeply, tasting herself on his tongue. “I never stopped being yours,” she whispered.

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[sergeantbarnessdoll]

Hi Shannon, can I please request something for Bucky where he surprises his wife with a trip for one week to see the polar lights at their second wedding anniversary. She wanted to surprise him too (that she is pregnant) but he was faster. So when they arrived he planned a romantic dinner. So right after dinner when they're in their hotel room, she is surprising him with a little bag (tiny shoes, a onesie "best dad ever", an ultrasound picture and 3 pregnancy tests)

A lot of fluff, kisses, emotions and happy tears, (just sweet/soft Bucky 🥺🫠❤️) please? Thank you so much

Not The Only Surprise -> Bucky Barnes/Winter Soldier

Pairings: Husband!Bucky Barnes x Wife/Pregnant!Reader

Summary: Bucky surprises you with a week trip to see the polar lights for yours and his second wedding anniversary, but that’s not the only surprise.

Warnings: Fluff, language, kissing, crying (happy tears), pet names

A/N: @jackys-stuff-blog thank you for the beautiful request🩵

Written on my phone. My apologies for any mistakes

Header made by my friend / divider made by me

GIF IS NOT MINE! Gif credit goes to the creator

Yours and Bucky’s second wedding anniversary is next week. You two have been thinking about what you two should do. You two could go out for a romantic dinner at a really nice restaurant, but you and Bucky want to do something more fun and romantic. Bucky came up with the perfect idea to celebrate yours and his second wedding anniversary. He’s going to surprise you by taking you to see the polar lights for a week. The week of yours and his wedding anniversary to be exact. Bucky is excited to take you.

That’s not going to be the only surprise though. You’re going to surprise Bucky too. You found out that you’re pregnant a few days ago. You’re going to surprise him in the cutest way. You bought baby shoes and a onesie that says “best dad ever” on it with the ultrasound pictures and the three pregnancy tests you took. You put all of those items in a cute little gift bag that has baby animals on it. You’re more than excited to give it to him.

“Doll, are you home?” Bucky asks after he closes the door to yours and his apartment.

“I’m in the bedroom. I’ll be out in a minute.” You say.

You hid the gift bag behind a stack of blankets in the closet that’s in yours and Bucky’s bedroom. Then you went out to the living to greet your husband.

“Hi, baby.” You smiled, greeting him with a kiss.

“Hi, doll.” He smiles and kisses you back. “I thought of something we can do for our anniversary next week.” He says.

“Oh? What is it?” You curiously asked.

“We’re going a week long trip next week.” He tells you.

“That sounds fun and romantic.” You say.

“I know right.” He agrees.

“We should get packing.” You say.

That what you and Bucky exact did. Bucky’s back was turned to you as he was putting clothes in a duffel bag. That gave you the perfect opportunity to get Bucky’s surprise out of the closet and carefully put it into your bag. Bucky wraps his arms around you as you’re zipping up your bag.

“I can’t wait for our anniversary.” Bucky says softly.

“Me too.” You smiled.

You turned your head just enough to kiss him softly and sweetly. When next week finally comes, you were unable to contain your excitement.

“When’s the last time we went on a trip?” You asked.

“Our honeymoon.” Bucky says.

“Really? It’s been that long?” You asked.

“Yes.” He says.

“Wow. We need to go on vacation more often.” You say.

“I know right.” He agrees.

The drive to the hotel Bucky booked for the two of you was a few hours away, which made the car ride feel like forever, but it went by fast.

“Oh, wow.” You say, looking at the outside of the hotel.

“I know right.” Bucky says.

You and Bucky got yours and his bags out of the car and went inside of the hotel. You two got the room key and went up to the hotel room.

“Oh, wow. This room looks as big as the honeymoon suite we were in on our honeymoon.” You say.

“That’s because it is a honeymoon suite.” Bucky says.

You looked at your husband with the look of surprise on your face. Surprised in a good way.

“You did not.” You say speechlessly.

“I did.” He smiles. “It’s our second wedding anniversary. So, why not go all out.” He says.

You kissed him passionately, smiling against his lips.

“You’re the most romantic man in the universe.” You say softly.

“Only for you, doll face.” He smiles.

You smiled and kissed him again. Then you two took a look around the hotel room.

“This room is incredible.” You say.

“Don’t say that just yet, babydoll.” Bucky says.

“Why?” You asked.

Bucky gently grabs your hand and leads you out to the balcony where you and him are going to have the best view of the polar lights tonight.

“This is even more incredible.” You say, amazed by the view from the balcony.

“Wait until tonight.” He says.

“What’s happening tonight?” You asked.

“After dinner, we’re going to sit out here and watch the polar lights.” He says.

Your jaw dropped.

“No way!” You exclaimed excitedly.

“Yes way!” He exclaims just as excitedly as you.

You squealed excitedly and hugged him tightly. Then you cupped his cheeks.

“You always know how to surprise me.” You say softly.

“It’s my job as your husband to surprise you, doll.” Bucky says softly.

It’s your job as his wife to surprise him too, but his surprise is coming later.

“Let’s get ready for dinner.” He says.

You two kissed once more before getting ready for dinner. The restaurant you and Bucky had dinner at was incredible too. Then came time to watch the polar lights. Both of you watched it in amazement.

“This is beautiful.” You say amazed.

“You’re more beautiful.” Bucky compliments softly.

You couldn’t help but blush. Bucky never fails to make you blush.

“You’re the best husband in the world.” You say, leaning over to kiss him softly.

Bucky smiles at your words. You two watched the polar lights for a moment longer before you told him that you have a surprise for him.

“I have a surprise for you too.” You say.

“I told you that you didn’t have to get me anything, babydoll. Being married to you is the best thing I can ever have.” He says softly.

“This surprise is nonrefundable.” You say.

“Oh?” He asks.

You smiled and nodded before going back inside of the hotel room. You unzipped your bag and got the gift bag out of it. You went back out to the balcony and gave it to Bucky. Bucky looks at the gift bag with curiosity.

“Baby animals. Adorable.” Bucky smiles.

You were practically on the edge of your seat as Bucky opened the gift bag and took the contents of it out. He looked at each item carefully, starting with the baby shoes. Then he took the onesie out of the gift bag.

“Best dad ever.” Bucky reads aloud.

Finally, he pulls the ultrasound pictures and three positive pregnancy tests out of the gift bag. His jaw drops when he finally pieces everything together. Bucky’s eyes teared up with happiness and excitement.

“You’re pregnant?” Bucky asks softly.

“Yes!” You smiled.

Bucky looks at the baby shoes, onesie, ultrasound pictures, and the three pregnancy tests one more time before carefully putting all of the items back into the gift bag. He stands up, pulling you up with him. You squealed in surprise when he picked you up to hug you. You wrapped your legs around his waist.

“We’re going to be parents!” Bucky exclaims loudly and excitedly.

“We’re going to be parents!” You say just as loudly and excitedly as him.

Bucky kisses you with so much passion that it takes yours and his breath away.

“When did you find out?” He asks.

“The day after you left for the mission. I thought it would be a cute idea to surprise you on our wedding anniversary.” You say.

“I’m more than surprised, babydoll.” He smiles.

Bucky gently puts you back on your feet and guides you to sit down. He gets on his knees in front of you and pulls your shirt up just enough to expose your soon to be pregnant belly to him.

“Hi, little one. I’m your daddy. Your mommy just surprised me with you. I just wanted to tell you how loved you already are and we can’t wait to meet you soon.” Bucky says softly and sweetly.

Your eyes teared up at Bucky’s soft and sweet words. He softly kisses your belly before pulling your shirt back down and looking up at you. He smiles widely at you before leaning up to kiss you.

“Happy anniversary, doll. I love you so much.” Bucky says softly.

“Happy anniversary, honey. I love you too.” You say just as softly.

This is the best wedding anniversary ever for you and Bucky. You and him are more than excited to celebrate it and have a baby together. That’s something you two will never take for granted. You two wouldn’t change it for the world either.

-Bucky’s Doll

[navybrat817]

Come Home

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Female Reader

Summary: Bucky wants you to come home.

Word Count: 300

Playlist Prompt: Right Place, Wrong Time - Dr. John / “But I'm having such a good time”

Warnings: Implied arranged marriage, tension, possible soft!dark vibes if you squint, pet names (sweetheart, angel), drinking, Bucky Barnes (he's a warning, okay?).

A/N: Day 4 of the June Jukebox Scribbles Challenge by @societynsoelsscribbles . ❤️ Not beta read and written on my phone, so any and all mistakes are my own. Divider by the talented @saradika-graphics. Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog for new fics and notifications as I no longer do taglists. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!

You sipped your drink, watching your friends from your table as they danced. A faint smile touched your lips. They were having fun. So were you.

But then the air shifted.

“Hey, sweetheart.”

The low timbre wrapped in affection sounded stronger than the bass of the music.

You didn’t turn your head when Bucky Barnes took a seat, his thigh pressed against yours. You felt his eyes on you anyway, watchful and warmer than how he looked at everyone else. Some days you forgot that he was a dangerous man with power, reach, and a reputation.

My fiancé.

“Hey, yourself,” you replied, hoping your voice didn’t betray the emotions swirling inside you.

“It’s time to come home,” he said.

Home.

“But I’m having such a good time,” you teased, finishing your drink in one gulp.

He snatched the glass from your hand and forced you to meet his gaze. Your breath caught. He was always handsome, but the trimmed beard was really doing it for you. And he was staring at you like he was a heartbeat away from spreading you out on the table and taking you right there.

He had waited long enough.

“It’s midnight,” he said, his breath brushing your lips. “Time’s up.”

You swallowed. One year. You asked for one year of freedom before you had to marry him, and he shockingly obliged. 

But you should’ve realized he’d know right where to find you tonight.

He never stopped watching you.

His expression softened. “Angel, come home with me.”

Your stomach flipped. “So it’s ‘angel’ now?”

“Well, I know you behaved during your year without me, so that’s pretty angelic,” he answered with a hint of possession. “But we can talk more about that at home.”

Talk. Plan the wedding. Become Mrs. Barnes.

Your fate was sealed.

This could be fun to expand on. Love and thanks for reading. ❤️

Masterlist ⚓Bucky Barnes Masterlist ⚓ Ko-Fi

[luv4dapape]

masseuse! levi ackerman. repost. +18.

↳

masseuse! levi who absolutely hates his job. rubbing and touching random, dirty people all day definitely wasn't something he enjoyed, but hey, whatever pays the bills right? until you starting coming in more often, requesting him every. single. time.

your skin was always so soft and smelled like shea butter that made his head dizzy, it was music to his ears hearing the small groans of pleasure whenever his calloused hands reached that certain spot in your back or rubbed deeply into the backside of your thighs, slowly trailing up to the plush of your ass.

so you can just imagine how drunk he was on the whiny moans that bounced off of the walls of the small room as he held your waist tightly while licking a long strip of your cunt, puckering his lips and spitting on your clit before sucking harshly, pulling another high pitched moan from your lips.

[phoenix-in-writing]

Earned It

pairing | Massage Therapist!Bucky Barnes x f!Reader summary | While on vacation, your best friend books a spa day for you to loosen up. A luxury spa, the hottest masseuse you've ever laid eyes on, and the slip of a sound lead to a very not normal massage. But in your defense...he had very good hands and a flexible definition of tension relief. warnings | MDNI 18+ Barbies only, please | female reader, no use of y/n, vacation fling, porn with a sprinkle of plot, open ended, inappropriate use of towels + massage oils (literally don't...don't do this at home), fingering, dry humping, unprotected p in v, pussy pronouns, exactly one (1) clit smack, soft dom Bucky if you squint, slight Romanogers if you squint even further and hold the phone at the right angle, reader is briefly described as being smaller than Bucky (if I missed anything please let me know) word count | 5.6k phoenix chirps | Hi Barbies! It's time for my first installment for the Barbie collab put on by the @stantastic-association. It's been so fun watching this come together that I can almost hardly believe it's my turn to post. I don't have much to say about this one, except that I feel the need to remind you that this is fiction. Please don't engage with massage therapists in this manner out in the real world. Even if they do suspiciously look like Bucky Barnes. dt | Literally everyone who had to listen to me bitch about needing to lock in since...January? Y'all know who you are, and I'm giving you all a big forehead kiss through the screen. I hope you can feel it. Though a very special dt to @miraclediviner who made sure the collab ran as smooth as butter and didn't let me slack off. You're a real one Mecca ❤️

"We should do a girls trip!"

A dreaded six word sentence among friend groups. It always felt like something elusive that would always get talked about, but never actually get planned. In the history of your particular circle, those words were carelessly thrown around during Pinterest searches or doom scrolls after too much wine more times than you could count, but never once made it out of the group chat.

That was until the self appointed leader of the group, Natasha Romanoff, decided that enough was enough. In her own words, she was tired of the drab concrete buildings in which you worked soul sucking desk jobs and wanted to explore. But she didn't want to go alone. So, she planned. She made itineraries that the group was excited about. A few helped narrow down the field to a destination of the Amalfi Coast. But somewhere between the planning stage and the plane taking off for a two week trip to Positano, only you and Natasha had actually managed to buy the airfare and split the cost of an ocean front hotel room in the picturesque town.

Arriving in a landscape dotted with colorful cliffhanging houses on the bluest waters you had ever laid eyes on should have been enough to decompress. Yet the first thing out of Nat's mouth when you had barely unpacked a bag in the small hotel room you would be sharing was: "You look like you need to relax." Evidently the charm of being in another country without having to think of emails and spreadsheets for two weeks was not enough to bring your shoulders down from where they had permanently bunched at your ears.

And that is how you found yourself herded to the five star spa attached to your hotel. The air was tinged more prominently with orange blossom and citrus oils here, mixing with the salt air of the sea that seeped in through the windows. There was a soft melody of instrumental music along with water bubbling from a few rock fountains that dotted the reception area, granting a relaxing atmosphere from the bustling of the hotel lobby just beyond the entrance.

You had been directed to a pair of plush armchairs by the receptionist and offered a glass of cucumber water along with a list of services that were outrageously priced, even for a tourist town. You supposed that the main focus of stepping into a place like this should have been the ease of which it was to relax. But what really wasn't relaxing were the prices on the laminated sheet.

"Nat I - " you began in a hushed tone, but were cut off by the wave of her hand.

"We're on vacation," she sighed taking a small sip of water. "Just charge everything to my card, and you can pay me back when you can. I need the miles anyway." It wasn't so much of an offer as it was a request to just treat yourself. Like innately, she knew that you would argue over spending an exorbitant amount of money on a ninety minute massage.

Slumping back in your chair, you knew it was futile to argue when Natasha put her mind to something. The receptionist approached shortly after, getting you both on the schedule. Her voice had a distinct charming Italian lilt that you supposed was meant to be calming, though it felt performative in a way; like everything in this over priced spa. Maybe that's how they were able to charge such high prices. If clients were lulled into a false sense of comfort at every turn, it hurt less when money changed hands.

Natasha's name was called first by a tall, muscular blonde man wearing dark blue scrubs. Before she disappeared behind the frosted glass doors flanked by two lemon trees, she gave a sly wink, her nose scrunching slightly. A secret girl code that loosely translated to her likely coming back out with her masseur's personal phone number.

Good for her, you thought. Though you dreaded if she actually did get it that you'd be spending the rest of the vacation playing tourist alone.

That left just you and the incessant dripping sound of water in the reception area, which truthfully wasn't all that relaxing when it had you debating if you had time for a bathroom break. In the middle of your deliberation, you heard your name called.

When your eyes lifted to see who your appointment was with, you now had a concrete reason as to why services here were so expensive. A six foot, broad shouldered muscular man with chestnut hair, and blue eyes that could rival that of the ocean waters of the coast was looking at you expectantly. Your gaze drifted down to the clipboard that held your assessment form you had filled out while waiting. And you were sure it was a normal sized clipboard, but it looked dwarfed being held in his hands. Hands that would soon be on your skin.

His smile was warm, and looked to be the most genuine form of soothing in the spa as you walked up to him on unsteady legs. "I'm Bucky, looks like I've got you for the next hour and a half," he introduced himself, and you immediately noticed he did not carry the same Italian accent of anyone you had encountered at the hotel.

He held the door open for you into a warmly lit hallway, with more greenery and a stronger scent of lemons. "Do you have any problem areas you'd like me to address?"

The only problem that came to the forefront of your mind - aside from your sore back muscles - was that your mind was now…blank.

And yet he patiently waited for an answer as he directed you to a small dim room. Likely having rendered so many women speechless, that this was just part of his routine when he introduced himself to someone new.

The room he showed you to only held a massage table, a small cart with various oils and towels, and the same plinking music that had been playing in reception could also be heard in here, albeit much softer. "Uh, my back kind of? It was a long plane ride," you said, finally finding your voice.

Bucky nodded, jotting something down on the clipboard he still held. "Taking care of yourself on vacation? Good girl, sitting that long can cause unneeded stress on your muscles."

The praise coming from his mouth seemed to slip out so naturally, your brain almost didn't register it. But the rest of your body sure did.

He's probably like this with everyone, he's just trying to get a bigger tip from you. You reminded yourself.

"If you'll just undress to your comfort level," he pulled the drape of the massage table back, "I'll be back in five minutes."

And with that, he was out of the room with the door closing behind him with a soft click. Truthfully your comfort level with a strange man in a foreign country should've been to add more clothes and walk out of here. Especially with the way your thoughts were racing as you pictured his hands on your body.

Perhaps you should go request a different masseuse. One that you didn't want to do things with he probably wasn't allowed to charge for. But with the way your back ached and the crick in your neck from an eight hour flight, you didn't want to wait for a different masseuse. Nor did you want to explain to Natasha why it was necessary and get teased relentlessly.

Deciding you'd like the full experience, you stripped bare and folded your clothes in a neat pile on the chair in the corner. Sliding into the cocoon of soft sheets on your stomach, you shifted the drape over your backside and as soon as you made yourself comfortable with your head on the rest, a knock sounded at the door.

"Alright sweet girl," Bucky's smooth voice reached your ears once more as he stepped into the room. "Let's see if we can't get you to relax."

This was already a bad idea, you surmised. Your body was reacting to the baritone of his voice in ways you hadn't even considered when Nat suggested a massage. Like it was reminding you of the dry spell you had currently been in with your dating life and that something or someone needed to rectify that soon.

He peeled the sheet away from your back to begin, the sudden rush of air hitting your nerves and sending a shiver down your spine,

"Cold?" He asked from somewhere above you, concern lacing his words.

"A little?" Your voice squeaked the lie piling on to your mortification. You weren't really cold, more like your nerve endings you long thought dormant were reacting to any form of provocations.

You heard the click of a button somewhere and a sudden wave of gentle heat flowed from a vent on the wall next to you. "There we go," he murmured. "I want you to be as comfortable as possible."

Some more shuffling occurred while you watched his shadow cast by the dim amber lights dance around the dark floor. A click of a cap being flicked open almost had you peaking over your shoulder to see what was going on, but eye contact would likely only heighten this one sided awkwardness you felt for the next ninety minutes.

A warm sensation dripped over your skin, and you felt goosebumps rise in its wake. Bucky's palms were on you next with a firm pressure that already had the tension floating from your body and into his palms. Deft fingers kneaded the muscles along your spine first, pausing to roll among your shoulders.

Sinking further into the table, it was almost easy to forget who was on the opposite end of the hands that you could describe as harbingers of magic. Your eyes slipped shut, finally letting out a deep breath you didn't remember inhaling.

"Good girl, keep letting go," Bucky whispered, knuckles digging into your shoulder blades and working your muscles loose. There was that praise again, made all the more intimate by the fact that you were now naked and his hands seemed to be working overtime to pull every bit of tension out of your body.

He made it so easy to relax. More so than anything out in the reception area. The aura around his person inviting and safe in a way that made it easy to let go. From the warmth of the room, the slide of his fingers, the gentle praise, a floaty kind of feeling rushed to your head. It was then he found a knot just to the right of your spine that was worked out with enough pressure for an involuntary moan to slip past the barricade you'd been carefully crafting.

And it really wasn't even something you could pass off as a momentary lapse of judgment, especially if he kept skillfully working your muscles out like he was.

But Bucky, professional as he was, never wavered even when he felt the tension rising back to your body like you had done something wrong. "Happens more often than you think," he reassured. "Make all the noise you need to, sweetheart. You don't need to hold back on my account," he said evenly, and you could hear the ghost of a satisfied smile in his tone.

With permission granted unlocking something in your brain, you sighed, letting whatever slightly pornographic sounds come out. It wasn't like you would see him again anyway to be embarrassed about it. And as you fully let go, both of Bucky's hands continued working lower now to where the drape covered the last bit of your decency.

"Your lower back is really tense…" he muttered, hands wrapping around your waist, your attention flaring to the point of contact. "Desk job?"

Your mind momentarily stuttered as you tried to get your mouth to form words that weren't 'you can bend me over a desk'. "Uhm, yeah, unfortunately. I try to stretch but…"

"I can put a towel under your hips if you'd like?" he interrupted whatever your thinly veiled excuse was going to be for not getting up and stretching for ten minutes every hour. "May help me work out some of this discomfort."

You spied him already rolling up a piece of fabric into a tight cylinder. His hands and fingers glistening in the low light looking like a sin you'd love to commit.

You nod in agreement, and shift so he can wedge the towel under your hips. In doing so, the drape covering your ass narrowed, now just barely keeping you concealed.

More oil was added to your skin and Bucky's hands returned to your lower back. You had to give it to him, the added cushion under your hips did help your spine stretch, and the oil was already seeping into your muscles, aiding in the relaxation. But now you had a different problem entirely. The towel had been placed in such a way it pressed right against your clit, the texture of terrycloth mixed with the oil dripping down providing a delicious friction you hadn't been expecting.

And just why had you decided it would be a fabulous idea to get naked? As if the heat pooling between your thighs the second you laid eyes on your masseuse wasn't bad enough, you now had to deal with the fact that every time his thumbs pushed from the swell of your ass to the middle of your spine he unknowingly rocked you just right to send sparks shooting through your limbs.

If you thought keeping your noises to a minimum before was a challenge, it was certainly about to be an even bigger struggle. Screwing your eyebrows together, your fingers gripped the face cradle harder, you dared to let out a much more breathy exhale than before. Slightly worried that if you held any further noises in, Bucky would catch on to the lewd activities happening under the drape.

It would be so embarrassing to come like this, you thought for a brief second, another airy moan traitorously leaving your lips.

That time, Bucky's hands did pause, ever so briefly, on their upward trajectory. Enough that it was obvious he noticed your sounds had changed. But he didn't draw attention to it verbally. Instead, he moved…slower.

His hands trailed down, past your hips to your thighs. Thumb digging just a touch more into your muscles as he moved with leisure.

You barely noticed the drape that had still been covering your ass was being pushed up, too focused on the way he seemed to know when to press on your lower back to get another inappropriate sound out of your mouth. On the next pass, Bucky's fingers grew bolder, dipping between your thighs and nudging your legs apart.

It eluded you that his thumbs were getting closer and closer to where you were now dripping on every pass. Rational thought had long since flown out the window with the way he was slowly rocking you against the towel.

At least…until he drifted experimentally. Two fingers slowly and precisely slipped directly between your thighs ever so slightly relieving the ache that had been building since you had put your body in his very capable hands. It was too deliberate, yet slightly timid to be considered an accident. Much like the soft moans he had elicited from you moments earlier.

Your eyes flew open, breath catching as he did it again. Two fingers mindfully stroking your clit like he was testing your reaction. "I can stop," he said easily once you met his piercing blue eyes over your shoulder, pausing his ministrations but not taking his fingers away. "But I am very good at my job."

You were aware that you could say no. Surely such a posh and highly rated establishment would not survive if such acts were being performed under duress.

You were also aware that while you could…you had absolutely no intention of asking him to stop. Much like when you gave yourself grace by letting your mouth fall open, moans flowing freely, you rationalized that you were on vacation. You were never going to see this man again, and your body was wordlessly begging your mouth to just say yes. Shifting to tilt your hips in a silent dare for him to keep going, you both performed a staring contest in the soft light. But you realized quite quickly that he wasn't going to move again until you said something verbally.

Letting out a shuddering breath, and throwing all caution to the wind along with the last of any rational thought, you imperceptibly shook your head and gave a shaky whisper of "don't stop."

A slow grin spread across his face, a spark of delight as he gingerly tossed the drape to the side. There was no use for it now, considering it had turned into a small sliver that covered nothing.

"Turn over for me, sweet girl, if we're doing this, let's do this right," he murmured, giving a slight tap to your clit before withdrawing, a gentle hand coming to your hip to help maneuver you to your back.

With shaky arms and his guidance, you adjusted. The towel you had been grinding against was also discarded quickly, all the better so you didn't see the mess you had likely caused. Bucky's hands were on you again, steady, but sure, working their way slowly back up your thighs like he was still giving you the chance to back out.

"Beautiful," you swore you heard him whisper above the low music that was still faintly playing in the background. Heat spread from your chest to your ears as you chanced a glance at him while his fingertips made their journey back between your thighs. But his eyes, dark and hooded, were fixated on the dance of his hand moving closer to your center.

You let out a small 'oh' the second he circled your clit, thighs parting further — an invitation to keep going while your fingertips dug into the table. Eyes falling closed, your body arched into the movement, rocking without abandon now that it wasn't something you were trying to hide.

He had not been over exaggerating, he was very good at his job. Executing just the right amount of pressure on the bundle of nerves, every so often dipping to gather the slick now freely dripping from your cunt and tease your entrance. Like he was a lover made just for you, and had learned every single way to provide the highest amount of pleasure to make your head spin.

"When's the last time she was taken care of, hmm?" his voice was closer than it had ever been, your eyes flew open again to see he had moved so his torso was hovering over yours, hand that wasn't performing magic between your thighs braced next to your head.

Fuck, his eyes were more disarming up close. Two shimmering pools of bright blue reflected what could only be described as starlight from the ambient lamps.

Did you really want to admit to a stranger how long it'd been since the last time anyone touched you like this?

"Uh…" you stammered, "haven't really…been awhile."

Real smooth. But what were you meant to say when words were drowning before they had a chance to form?

A gentle, compassionate look crossed his features. "Tsk, you can't neglect something as precious as this sweetheart."

With that, he finally pushed a long finger past your entrance, the stretch sudden causing a needy whine to travel up your throat.

"There you go. Just relax for me…" he whispered the command right against the skin of your cheek, and to your credit, you really did try. But the coil in your lower belly was tightening further and further.

Another unabashed moan slipped past your lips as he added a second finger, your jaw going slack from the sudden stretch while your fingertips dug further into the table to the point your knuckles ached. "I'm trying," you protested, though several parts of your body were continuously clenching.

Above you, a deep rumble vibrated from Bucky's chest. His hand that had been planted next to your head reached for yours, working your grip free of the table. Your fingers interwove with his creating a far more intimate connection than you had been braced for.

"Keep trying sweetheart, you can do it," he coaxed, leaning further in until his lips were right next to yours. While his hands and words were confident, there was a hesitation in the movement of his lips. Like he was a man who was afraid of pushing too many boundaries.

Your fingers squeezed his once his thumb pressed deliberately onto your clit, back bowing off the table while your thighs spread further, one ankle falling carelessly over the edge. "You're so close," he whispered, lips finally meeting the corner of yours. "Can feel it in the way she's squeezing me."

"Mhm," you managed to whine, lips chasing his automatically when he went to pull away.

There was barely a second of hesitation and his mouth was on yours, greedily drinking in the sounds of pleasure as he pushed you closer and closer to release. He tasted of bergamot, lemon and sea salt, like the personification of the small town itself.

It was like something snapped between you the second your lips collided. Something untamed finally being set free after being unfairly caged. Your hand flew to the nape of his neck, drawing him in closer, enough that with the angle, he had to withdraw his fingers from your cunt so he could steady himself above you.

You wanted to grumble at being denied, body clenching desperately around nothing. Until Bucky adjusted, knee finding the bare space of table between your legs. With a slight bounce, his large form soon eclipsed yours as he settled into a comfortable position. All the while, his lips never really ceased contact with yours. Exploring parts of you that you hoped he never dared venture with other clientele.

But any unfounded jealousy you may have stumbled upon exited your mind the second he pressed his hips to yours. The hard, throbbing ridge of his erection had your mind reeling. It hadn't really even occurred to you that he could be as affected as you were, needing his own form of tension relief. Perhaps the soft dark blue scrubs he wore were intentionally chosen to hide such things.

Your legs bent at the knees, drifting to either side of his torso until you cradled his lower body with yours. A sound came muffled from his throat, his teeth sinking into the plush flesh of your lower lip when your hips twitched upwards, bare pussy dragging across the outline of his cock that sent fire rushing through your belly.

Your free hand fisted into the hem of his top, thoughts running rampant of how you planned on daydreaming about ripping this very top off when you got back to your hotel room to now being able to experience the real thing. His hips moved in needy, urgent circles, the head of his cock catching your clit every so often causing your thighs to clench around his frame harder. His movements were so delicate, so restrained, you wondered if he was reconsidering.

Testing the already flimsy boundaries, your hand released his top, moving to rest on the warm skin of his abdomen. A shudder radiated from where your palm was placed as the weight of him sunk deeper onto you. Your hand explored further, your own hips canting up to meet his; soaking the front of his pants with your slick. Fingernails scratched into the hard wall of muscle, contracting like claws with each slow grind.

When you reached his shoulder, Bucky released his grip on your hand, yanking the fabric off and discarding it. It had been one thing to imagine what he looked like underneath the navy blue top. It was another thing in itself to see it in the ambient lighting of the massage room. The flickering candles on the shelves reflected shadows on every crevice that had to have been honed by hours in the gym. Both hands now moved of their own volition, traipsing up the dips until they smoothed over the light dusting of hair along his chest.

"Seems only fair I suppose," he chuckled softly, watching your hands explore. "That you get to feel me up now instead of the other way around."

You felt your cheeks heat once more, moving to withdraw your touch. But, Bucky moved quicker, gripping your wrist and placing a soft kiss to the delicate inside with a smirk.

"Knew you were going to be special the minute I laid eyes on you," he whispered, tugging your wrist until your hand landed at the nape of his neck again, your fingers carding into the soft hair.

"Bet you say that to every girl who walks in here," you mumbled, gaze darting to where his other hand was palming his erection through his pants that were slick from where you had been grinding against him.

A short laugh flitted from his lips, pulling the waist of his pants down further until his thick cock was freed. "I do, but none of them have ever gotten to do this though," he admitted gently, running the tip of his cock already leaking with precum through your folds.

The meaning behind his words barely registered when your eyes were still glued between your bodies. His large hand was wrapped around the thick shaft as he fucked into it, tip gliding through your aching pussy until it kissed your clit and withdrew again.

The motion continued, teasing away what little self restraint you had left with each dip that barely caught at your entrance. A frustrated exhale escaped your lips, looking back up to meet Bucky's eyes. "Can you just - " you huffed as he slid through even slower, like he had all the time in the world yet you knew the ninety minute session would have to end sooner or later.

The corner of his mouth pulled up again, head dipping so his nose brushed yours. "Patience sweet girl," he murmured against your lips. "Don't wanna rush this."

Your leg wrapped higher on his hips wondering if your strength could out match his. But his grip found your thigh, fingers digging into your flesh to keep you from using your muscles in an attempt to get what you want. His hand released his cock, letting it fall heavily onto your hip so he could cup your jaw.

"Breathe with me, okay? In," he inhaled, your lungs expanded on command, chest rising to meet his.

"And out," he exhaled, lips brushing yours intimately while your breaths mingled, his hips adjusting so you felt the nudge of his tip at your entrance.

You really should have expected him to press in the next time he coaxed you to inhale, yet the stretch of him finally filling you completely and slowly was something no amount of breathing exercises could've ever prepared you for.

A loud whimper tore through from your throat while you adjusted to his size, the hand at the base of his neck gripping a bit tighter to steady yourself. Bucky hiked your leg up further, hooking it around his hip — freeing up his other hand to completely cradle your face, elbows tucking under your shoulders while he settled his weight onto you. An intimate gesture you least expected, from someone who was a stranger a little more than an hour ago.

He hadn't even really moved yet, letting your bodies get acquainted; muscles clenching around his throbbing cock while his thumbs slowly brushed over your cheekbones. Every breath leaving your mouth was shallow, attempting to get air to your lungs while every other nerve ending was just concerned with pleasure.

Your fingernails found solace digging into the taut muscle of his bare back, clinging to reality as he finally buried every inch in. Eyes watered as you held his stare of concern marred behind feral need. "Breathe sweetheart," he reminded you once again, thumbs never ceasing the calming movement against your skin.

The table swayed gently with the start of his hips rocking. The ridges and veins of his cock massaging the most intimate and sacred parts of your body.

Needy deep grunts and soft breathless moans soon filled the room, articulated by the whisper of your skin connecting and the nature sounds that were once meant to be relaxing. They now only fueled a delirious fantasy, mixing with the heat rising. Where the room melted into something far more primal and less composed than anything the upscale spa had offered in their list of services.

His strong hands continued to keep your head tilted up. Every desperate thrust into your already fluttering pussy, still aching for the release he denied you earlier had your eyelids dropping. But his hypnotizing eyes that watched every flicker of pleasure on your features were hard to stay away from for long.

"Come on now, darling, let go of that last bit of tension," he breathed softly, head dipping to your collarbone so his lips were right next to your ear with another deep thrust that had stars bursting in your vision.

Words seemed fleeting, as much as you wanted to say for the umpteenth time that you really were trying, but the bliss washing over your body in waves was hard to release. Nothing would have made you more content than to stay in this haze of citrus scented oils.

"So stubborn." You swore you heard him huff, trailing a hand between your bodies where his thumb found your clit, massaging gently.

Entire body locking from the jolt caused a gasp to punch out from your lungs. Thighs and arms wrapped tighter around him, nails digging further into his skin until you were sure the half moons would become a permanent feature to his otherwise flawless body.

"There you are, now let it all go." Bucky's teeth grazed the column of your neck, thumb picking up speed in time with his pace that was becoming erratic. Pleasure finally crested through your nerve endings, flowing to every limb and ligament as you fell over the edge. Saliva pooled on your tongue, eyes finally falling closed to surrender to the sensations. His lips found yours again, an intimate gesture designed to bring you back to the present. He groaned deeply, a tremor rumbling through his entire body as you felt the throb of his own release flare into yours.

Bucky pulled back from the crook of your neck, hair that had been perfectly styled now fell in front of his wild eyes while realization crashed down on both of you. A sudden dawning of what just happened probably…should not have happened. Your limbs were still limp, muscles melting into the table in a sensation you had missed for too long.

"Am I - uh - going to have to pay extra for that?" you asked in an attempt to diffuse the situation, breath still ragged.

He laughed, low and genuine, brushing a piece of your hair back from your forehead. "Nah, we'll keep that off the books."

You giggled in response as he carefully maneuvered off of the table. You propped up on your elbows, accepting a clean sheet he handed in your direction, like he knew your body was already growing colder without his to keep you warm.

"When do you leave?" he asked sincerely, donning a fresh scrub top. Eyebrows drawn together in earnest.

You really hadn't been expecting him to all of a sudden seem so vulnerable, for someone who got you to the position you were currently in with such quiet confidence. "Oh, we're here for two weeks."

He nodded, looking now at a planner that was splayed open on the small counter. "Do you…want to come back tomorrow? I can take you to dinner first and then I can get you another…more appropriate session."

He tripped over his words as he asked, endearing in a truly charming way. "Yeah," you agreed easily, swinging your legs off the side of the table. "I'd like that."

Bucky's shoulders dropped, relief flooding over his features. "Great," he smiled, handing you a business card. "I've, unfortunately, got another appointment I need to get ready for, but I'm looking forward to it."

"Hope it's not one just like this?" you asked, turning the card around in your fingers to see what you assumed was his personal cell phone number scribbled in a margin.

"No," he chuckled again. "This was a…uh…first for me."

Natasha was already in the reception area when you drifted through the frosted glass doors. Everything that had first annoyed about the corporately saccharine decor was muted, the only thought on your mind was when you would get to see it again.

"So?" Natasha asked, a perfectly manicured eyebrow raised as she scrutinized your sudden glow. "How was it?"

You accepted another small glass of cucumber water, settling beside her. "Amazing. I'm coming back tomorrow."

The redhead's eyes narrowed at that, her tongue swiping over her bottom lip. "Is that so? And here I thought this was meant to be a girls trip?" she teased, nudging your foot with hers.

"Weren't you the one who said I needed to relax?" you shot back, briefly flashing the business card before tucking it back into your pocket with a playful smile. "Not my fault the relaxation method doesn't fit your definition of a girls trip."

After Chirps: Okay, maybe I did have more to say??? I hope you liked this one! But I'd be remiss if I didn't link the masterlist post for the collab, and let y'all know that along with all of the other scrumpdillyumptious fics coming, my veterinarian Bucky fic comes out in less than a week! As proud as I am of this one, that one is my baby and I can't wait to share it ❤️

Everything Taglist: @overwintering-soldier @stanmarvelous @wint3rbarnes @barnes-babydoll @defn0tonyourleft @herejustforbuckybarnes @stesha02 @sheriff-bodecker @wherewinterblooms @miraclediviner @tw1sters @bucksbby @daddysbitchybaby @metal-armed-muse @avgdestitute @imtoooldforthis82 @daydreamgoddess14 @hailmary-yramliah @nachtigall127 @heavenchana @ornateglass @steelandvibranium @stkmaprang @yourmomoclockit @misswhiddless @mariamorales1998 @mistressmkay @ladymiseryy @my-drvidess @alli0-0 @buckyscaptain

Bucky Only: @thegirlwhowaited5everok @phantom-wolf-girl @optimisticchildtyrant @sassandscribbles @i-gotta-go-so-much-bigger @procrastination20 @mathcat345 @highhopes1008 @biaswreckedbybuckybarnes @scarletkanami

Stan Characters Only: @iamthatonefangirl @cassity357 @erina00 @buckytakethewheel

If you'd like to be added to the taglist comment here ᝰ.ᐟ

[phoenix-in-writing]

Buttercup

Rockstar!Bucky Barnes x Reader

♪ Prompt | Somebody That I Used To Know - Gotye | “When you said we would still be friends” ♪ Warnings + Tags | Fluff, misunderstanding, reader is dramatic af ♪ Phoenix Chirps | I don't even know you guys. Just laugh along with me, please ♪ Word Count | 297

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You [9:32 pm]

i know you're on stage rn don't care tho

You [9:33 pm]

you promised looked me in my eyes and said that we would still be friends

Another hit of anger mixed with frustration smacked against your ribs as memories of promises that were not kept swam into your vision.

You [9:34 pm]

lying dickhead

With that, you tossed your phone onto the small coffee table littered with snacks, empty beer bottles, and a few ash trays.

You heard it buzz once, knocking against a glass bottle, but you couldn't bring yourself to care. A headache was settling deep behind your eyes from being so misled by someone you thought cared for you.

"Baby," you heard the muffled voice from somewhere above the pillow you had placed over your eyes against the harsh florescent lights.

You grunted in response, waving a blind hand in the direction of the voice.

The pillow was yanked from your head in the next second, your sound of protest now filling the small green room.

"Lying dickhead?" your boyfriend, Bucky Barnes, and drummer of the band that just played a sold out show in Madison Square Garden whispered dangerously. His phone with the text messages you sent in anger held within an inch of your nose.

You drew your lips in, determined not to laugh at your own dramatics. "You ate the last of the peanut butter cups." As if that was a good enough excuse to text him a string of messages while he played the show of his life.

A long suffering sigh left his chest as he looked to the heavens for help.

"Baby," he said again, slower this time, and slotting himself between your thighs. "Let me make it up to you."

Everything Taglist: @overwintering-soldier @stanmarvelous @wint3rbarnes @barnes-babydoll @defn0tonyourleft @herejustforbuckybarnes @stesha02 @sheriff-bodecker @wherewinterblooms @miraclediviner @tw1sters @bucksbby @daddysbitchybaby @metal-armed-muse @avgdestitute @imtoooldforthis82 @daydreamgoddess14 @hailmary-yramliah @nachtigall127 @heavenchana @ornateglass @steelandvibranium @stkmaprang @yourmomoclockit @misswhiddless @mariamorales1998 @mistressmkay @ladymiseryy @my-drvidess @alli0-0 @buckyscaptain @larissareidbarnes @castielscaplan @juniebjonesin @angelryex

If you'd like to be added to the taglist comment here ᝰ.ᐟ

[societyfolklore]

Just Competitive  

Title: Just Competitive  

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Female Reader

Summary:  Sam’s new gf keeps waking you up

Word Count: 2.5k  

Warnings: /Explicit Content / 18+, Minors DNI, Established relationship Light possessiveness / dominance, Noise kink elements, Bucky gets competitive, fingering, unprotected sex

A/N:  Ok so the other night I woke up at 2:30am and this is what happens when you ask the group chat what to do. @azriona This was your idea! (also sorry for everyone else who got edged in the chat)

Bucky rolled over, eyes still heavy with sleep, only to find you already wide awake- eyes on the ceiling, brows pinched in irritation.

“What’s wrong- ”

He didn’t even finish the sentence before he heard it.

Moaning. Loud, exaggerated, and frankly theatrical moaning. The kind that bounced off the thin apartment walls with no shame.

From the other side of the wall, Sam’s room.

Sam’s new girlfriend.

Bucky blinked at the ceiling, then turned toward the wall with a mix of annoyance and reluctant admiration. “Jesus,” he muttered. “She’s still going?”

You groaned, rubbing your face. “Twenty-five minutes. She’s been going off like a broken wind-up toy for twenty-five minutes, Bucky.” It was all too much right now.  “It's 3 a.m.,” you whined, dragging a pillow over your face. “Why does everyone have to be loud now?”

Bucky chuckled, soft and gravelly, then pulled you into his chest, spooning you close. One arm wrapped around your waist, petting gently over your stomach.

“We knew it was gonna be an adjustment moving in with Sam,” he said, trying to soothe you.

You nuzzled in, only to freeze when the sound of the headboard started thumping against the wall.

Again.

“Oh come on,” you hissed. “What’s she trying to prove? She always gets like this when she knows I’m home.” A beat. “Tell me I don’t sound like that.”

Bucky didn’t answer. He just started kissing the side of your neck, slow and deliberate, his hand sneaking a little lower under the sheets.

“No, doll,” he murmured against your skin. “You sound so much better.” Another kiss, hotter now. “Prettier. Real.” His hand gripped your thigh and pulled it over his hip.

You squirmed, suddenly more awake, heat creeping up your cheeks.

He smirked. “Wanna put on a show of our own?”

You were about to swat him away, really, you were, but Bucky’s fingers were already sliding lower, finding that soft, puffy spot between your thighs, circling your clit with lazy precision. It wasn’t fair how practiced he was at this. How well he knew your body.

Your breath hitched, hips twitching back into him before you could stop yourself.

He snorted softly into your hair. “That’s it, sweetheart. Knew you’d warm up to the idea.”

You tried to sound annoyed. “I’m not trying to compete with her- ”

But your words dissolved into a soft gasp as one thick finger slipped inside you. The stretch made your back arch into him, thighs instinctively squeezing together around his hand.

“Oh, come on, beautiful,” Bucky drawled with a grin you could hear in his voice, “we can get you to do better than that.”

Your hand grabbed the edge of the blanket, already flushed with heat, trying not to give him the satisfaction. But then his thumb started stroking again, gentle, taunting circles on your clit, and your body betrayed you with a whimper.

“That’s better,” he cooed, finger curling just right. “Thought you said you don’t sound like her.” Another stroke. “But this? Baby, this is music.”

“Bucky- ” you tried to whisper a warning, but it broke apart halfway through, breath catching in your throat as he added a second finger, his arm tightening around your waist to hold you still while he played your body like a favorite song.

“Y’know,” he murmured into your neck, lips brushing your skin, “if she wants to perform, she should hear what a real show sounds like.”

His fingers plunged deeper, curling just so. You moaned, louder this time and Bucky groaned behind you, rutting his cock against your ass through his boxers, hard and throbbing.

“Fuck, that’s it. There’s my girl.”

He bit softly at your shoulder, then licked the spot to soothe it. “Think I could make you cry for me before she hits round four?”

You turned your head slightly, breathless and hot all over. “You’re awful.”

He grinned, kissing your cheek. “M’just competitive.”

“I think someone’s holding back…” Bucky murmured, voice all sweet mockery, hips grinding slow and deliberate into your ass while his fingers pumped inside you, unhurried but ruthless.

You whimpered, clutching the sheet with one hand and his metal wrist with the other, thighs trembling as he twisted just right, making your muscles clamp tight around his fingers.

“Ohh,” he laughed softly, low and warm in your neck. “There it is. That little clench- mm, yeah, you’re gettin’ close, huh?”

His thumb rolled over your clit in a tighter circle and your whole body jerked, a desperate moan catching in your throat.

You squeezed his wrist hard, but it wasn’t enough.

“Bucky- Buck, wait- no- ”

He knew what that meant. Knew you didn’t really want him to stop. That you were right on the edge. Which is exactly why he did.

He pulled his fingers out slow, wet and glistening, and you made a pitiful noise of protest that only made him smile wider.

“Aw, c’mon, sweetheart,” he said, already rolling you onto your back like you weighed nothing. “Don’t look at me like that.” He slotted himself between your thighs, pushing his boxers off. “You know I’m just tryin’ to help you live up to your potential.”

You glared up at him, flushed and needy, hips trying to chase his even before he lined himself up. But he didn’t push in right away. No, Bucky had to tease.

He ran his cock through your slick folds, tip dragging lazily up and down, tapping against your clit until your whole body twitched.

“Fuck, baby,” he growled, voice suddenly tight. “You’re already soaked. It didn’t take much- never does with you.”

He held your hips still, teasing the head of his cock along your slick folds again before finally giving in, slow, steady, thick. The tip nudged at your entrance before gliding up and down to smear your wetness, until your hips arched up in silent plea.

Then, finally, he pressed in just the tip, thick, hot, stretching you just enough to make your breath leave your chest in a broken gasp.

You arched, clutching his bicep. “auhh- ”

Bucky grinned.

“Better.”

He pushed in another inch, then another, groaning at how tight you were around him, your body pulling him deeper with every inch.

“You gonna give me those pretty sounds now, doll?” he whispered, rolling his hips just so. “Or do I gotta work for ‘em?”

You didn’t even get the chance to answer.

Because that was when the rhythmic thump-thump-thump of Sam’s headboard started agai Harder this time. His girl’s voice climbed an octave, all high-pitched gasps and theatrical moaning, just shy of pornographic.

And then- fuck- you heard Sam.

A low groan, unmistakable.

You buried your face in Bucky’s shoulder with a miserable whine.

You were screwed now.

Even in the near-darkness of the room, you could feel Bucky’s expression change, could sense his tongue poke into his cheek, his jaw flexing as he stared at the wall like he was personally offended.

“Oh, hell no,” he growled, pulling his hips back and snapping them forward, burying his cock deep, all the way in, dragging a sudden, guttural cry out of you before you could stop it.

“Bucky- !”

“That’s better,” he grunted, hand sliding under your thigh, hitching your leg up so he could angle himself deeper. “You let them have their noise. You’re gonna sing for me now.”

He started to move, slow but powerful thrusts that punched little gasps from your throat with every roll of his hips. You clung to his shoulders, eyes wide, trying to hold back, but it was useless. Every thrust forced a sound from you, each one a little louder than the last, your body unraveling beneath his.

You were already soaked, already there, and the feeling of him dragging along every nerve-ending inside you made you tremble. He was so deep, so heavy inside you, his hips grinding with purpose, like he was sculpting those sounds out of you.

“Not gonna let ‘em win, baby,” he whispered, breath hot against your lips. “Gonna fuck you so good you forget your own name. Let her try to moan louder than you- I dare her.”

His metal hand gripped the headboard behind you for leverage, and you swore it was about to start banging against the wall too. The creak of the bed and slap of skin echoed through the room.

“Bucky, fuck- ”

“There we go,” he praised, fucking into you harder, rougher now, each thrust rocking you up the bed. “That’s my girl. Soundin’ so pretty for me.”

You moaned helplessly, arching into him, fingers digging into his skin, and he was relentless, devoted to making you cry out louder than whatever was happening on the other side of that wall.

“You feel that, sweetheart?” he groaned, dragging his cock out slowly before slamming it back in, harder than before. “That’s it, let them know how good we fit. Let them know who’s makin’ you feel like this.”

You tried to answer, tried to form anything like a thought but it all shattered as he slammed into you again, grinding deep, and your breath hitched into a needy, helpless cry.

Your fingers clutched the pillow beside your head. Your legs trembled. You could barely keep your eyes open.

“Bucky- ”

He growled low, loving the way you moaned, loving the way your body trembled under his. Every sound you made spurred him on, every breathless whimper, every little hitch of your hips. He was drinking you in like he’d starved for it, worshipping every flutter and squeeze you gave him.

The girl next door let out another dramatic scream, the headboard knocking rhythmically against the wall, but all you could focus on was the way Bucky filled you, every inch of him, thick and hot and perfect inside you. The pressure of his cock dragged against that spot that made your spine bow, your thighs clenching around his hips instinctively.

Bucky grinned into your neck, not slowing. He fucked you through it- deliberate and deep, his hand sliding between you to circle your clit just to hear you sob again. The world was narrowed down to just the heat of your bodies and the slick slide of him inside you.

Nothing else mattered. Not the noise. Not the neighbors. Just the man above you, within you, around you, driving you out of your mind.

“That’s it, baby,” he panted, mouth against your throat. “Don’t hold back. Let me hear you. Let her hear you.”

You did.

You couldn’t not.

He was grinding into your spot now with every thrust, dragging his cock against it until your toes curled and your nails scraped his back. Your moans started coming louder, broken, desperate, real. It wasn’t a performance. It was a surrender.

“Ohh, fuck, you feel good,” you sobbed, voice high and shaky.

Bucky’s head dropped, his breath stuttering. “God, you sound so good.”

His voice cracked slightly as he rutted into you, deeper and harder, his grip tightening on your hip. "Fuck, baby... you’re squeezin’ me so tight- keep that up and I’m not gonna last."

His mouth found yours, messy, hungry, claiming you completely as his hips snapped faster, harder, losing the rhythm as he chased both of your releases like he needed them to win. Like it was a goddamn competition now.

And maybe it was.

His chest was heaving, breath ragged, as he braced himself above you, each thrust more urgent, more desperate than the last. Your fingers tangled in his hair, pulling him deeper into the kiss, swallowing each other's whimpers and gasps as he fucked you through the mounting tension building between you.

You cried out into his mouth when he hit just right, your back arching off the mattress, thighs shaking around his waist. Your whole body tensed, every muscle winding tight like a wire ready to snap.

“There. There- fuck, baby, I’ve got you- let go,” he rasped, holding you tight, grinding deeper, determined to take you with him.

And then you broke.

Your orgasm ripped through you with devastating force, your mouth falling open as a high, raw moan spilled out, his name dragged from your throat again and again. Your walls fluttered around him, soaking him as your thighs quivered, toes curling tight.

Bucky wasn’t far behind.

“Shit- fuck,” he gasped, hips stuttering as your body milked him. “Gonna fill you up, baby- fuck- take it- ”

With a shuddering groan, he buried himself to the hilt, cock twitching deep inside you as he spilled, filling you with hot pulses. His muscles tensed, arms locked tight around you, and he stayed there, shaking against your chest while your bodies trembled together.

The bedframe finally banged once- twice- against the wall, a perfect echo of your cries, before stillness settled over you both. Bucky sagged against you, chest heaving, lips brushing your jaw as he caught his breath, his body pressed so close it felt like you were still one- joined and molten and weightless in the aftermath.

Both of you were drenched in sweat, your skin sticking where it touched, the heat of your bodies radiating between tangled limbs. Your heart pounded against his chest, and his matched it beat for beat, steady and grounding as your fingers lazily traced the back of his neck.

You clung to him, dazed and utterly spent, your body still humming with the ghost of your climax, little shudders twitching through your thighs. You let your cheek rest against his shoulder, eyelids fluttering shut, the silence around you ringing like an echo chamber of the storm you'd just ridden together.

You were both loud, breathless, fucked-out messes in the dark- hair mussed, voices hoarse, sheets soaked beneath you.

And you didn’t care.

You didn’t care if they heard.

Hell, you hoped they did. Let Sam and his girlfriend have their act.

You had something better. Something real.

Bucky was still inside you, his cock softening but not leaving you, like even his body refused to let go. He nuzzled your cheek, one arm wrapping more tightly around your back, the other brushing his fingers gently through your hair. A tender kiss pressed against your temple as the muffled sounds from next door finally gave way to silence.

“Think we won that one,” he murmured, smug and sleepy.

You let out a breathless laugh, still shaking a little. “Think we both lost our minds.”

His arms tightened around you, possessive and soft all at once. “Worth it.”

You tilted your head up, eyes meeting his in the dark. “Think we woke Alpine?”

He snorted, mouth curving into a tired grin. “Probably." 

You both chuckled quietly, your legs still wrapped around his hips, unwilling to break the closeness.

And then, in the stillness that followed, came the faintest sound, soft little wails starting up from the hallway. Mournful, high-pitched, and thoroughly dramatic.

“Speak of the devil...” you murmured against his shoulder.

Bucky huffed a laugh, burying his face in your hair. “Alpine’s filing a noise complaint.”

Neither of you said anything else after that. You didn’t need to. Not until you both heard the telltale noise of the little queen scratching at the door. 

[aphroditaeon]

telling no to anal before marriage to underground!Levi and he gets so mad he “takes a walk” and accidentally starts a gang war

[aphroditaeon]

telling Captain Levi no boot kink or spitting before marriage and he goes and makes everyone run till they pass out

[aphroditaeon]

telling postwar!Levi no piss kink before marriage and he’s like we’re literally married and I’m not even into that shit

[winteryn]

BUNNY GONE WILD the winter soldier x ditzy!reader [8.5k]

— ⟢ SUMMARY: the winter soldier infiltrates a college halloween party to follow the pretty girl with bunny ears who collided into him on the sidewalk.  — ⟢ WARNINGS: 18+ MDNI; she/her pronouns for reader; ditzy & clueless!reader; reader is mentioned to have hair & wears a skimpy bunny costume; size difference (he's beefy and taller than reader); original characters; mention of punishment and violence (suck dick, hydra); mention of alcohol & weed (they're not the ones intoxicated); mention of murder; bucky mainly speaks russian (it's english in cursive because I don't speak russian + I don't trust google translate when I don't have a basic knowledge of a language) and a little broken english; he asks reader to call him soldat; touch starved bucky; slightly dark & possessive!bucky; light fluff & angst; smut (no explicit consent but both of them want it); feral behavior; big dick bucky organization (🙂‍↕️); oral (f receiving); spanking & pussy spanking; pussy pronouns; nipple play; a little bit of degradation; sex in the woods; unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it pls); primal and rough sex; multiple orgasms; creampie; panty sniffing & stealing.

A/N: I posted this last october if I'm not wrong, and honestly this is still one of my favorite one-shots lol. the reader's behavior and personality was heavily inspired by karen from mean girls and rose from the golden girls (a line in particular comes from one of the episodes 🥸). hope you'll enjoy it!

“I can already smell the weed from here. It’s only eleven, for fuck’s sake.” Sarah grimaces as she gets out of the driver’s seat of her Nissan Versa. 

“It’s a college party, were you expecting tea and cookies?” Nicole sighs, bent over as she reties the straps of her shoes for the umpteenth time. 

The huge mansion sits among the bare trees like a sore thumb. Strings of fake cobwebs dangle from the balconies in tangled clumps, lazily swaying in the cold October breeze. The projectors wash the building in a ghostly glow and pumpkins with bizarre carved faces line the porch, their flickering candles warping the jagged smiles into something unsettling.

The front steps are already crowded with masked people smoking, drinking and laughing too loudly. Sarah snorts out loud as one of the few latecomers nearly trips over a fake gravestone planted in the lawn beside a massive steaming cauldron that reeks faintly of dry ice.

“At least this year Ethan and his minions put some effort into decorating. Do you remember last Halloween?” Nicole turns towards the house with Sarah beside her, but then glances back to find you still standing by the car window, adjusting the corset of your costume.

“Jesus,” Sarah huffs exasperated, planting a hand on her hip. “Stop fussing, you look good!” 

“Just a sec…” You mumble absently, turning sideways to check your back.

This year, the three of you agreed to not pick a group costume. Last Halloween had been a disaster from start to finish, mainly because Nicole wanted to go as Cher, Tai and Dionne from Clueless, while you suggested Sam, Clover and Alex from Totally Spies. Sarah was too busy with her now ex-boyfriend to care either way, and a few days before the party she ditched both of you to dress up as Princess Peach and Super Mario with him. 

Naturally, you and Nicole still managed to clash over something as simple as matching outfits: she pushed for Harley Quinn and Poison Ivy, but you barely knew who they were, so you argued for Daphne and Velma instead. Long story short, neither of you had time to buy decent costumes and ended up throwing together the easiest thing possible: a devil and an angel.

Just like at least thirty other girls at the party. 

That same night, Sarah caught her dear Super Mario kissing Princess Daisy—her cousin—in one of the upstairs bathrooms of this exact mansion, and from that moment on, she swore off group costumes forever.

One year later, in front of the Nissan, a Kim Possible looks pretty much done with life, while a Cher from Clueless sits on the curb smoking her first cigarette of the night. And you, a bunny in a very revealing outfit, tap your lips to even out the glittery gloss.

You thought the ears were a little too big when you bought them, but now, paired with the sheer corset and the short skirt, they look perfect.

“Okay,” you tug the skirt down out of instinct, though the snug fabric barely moves against your thighs. “I’m ready!”

“Fucking finally.” Nicole mumbles, lifting herself from the sidewalk with a groan.

“Hey—” 

Sarah’s warning comes too late. Your body is already colliding with something solid, hard as steel. A startled yelp escapes you as a large hand instantly clamps around your bare arm to keep you from stumbling backward. You realize your eyes have squeezed shut reflexively only when they flutter open at once, landing directly on a broad chest covered by what looks like a black tactical vest. Your gaze slowly drifts up, along a strong neck, until it catches on a pair of blue eyes staring down at you. The lower half of the stranger’s face is hidden behind a black mask, yet you are instantly fascinated.

“Oh, hi!” You beam, tilting your head slightly, fully aware of how much guys usually love it when you do that.

The bulky stranger simply looks at you, expression barely changing. There’s a faint furrow between his brows that makes it impossible to tell whether he’s assessing you or debating scolding you for nearly knocking yourself flat against him.

A beat of silence passes between you, in which you let your curious eyes roam shamelessly on his face, before dropping to his impossibly large shoulders. Heat tingles low in your stomach, before a hint of embarrassment curls through you at how obvious you must look beneath his unwavering stare.

Someone clears their throat behind you, but you can’t look away. You don’t want to.

“Honey, let the gentleman go, c’mon.” Sarah grabs your wrist while wrapping her other arm around your waist to gently steer you away.

The long fingers around your forearm jump back as if your skin burned him.

“Nice costume, man. Looks expensive.” Nicole nods at the strange guy, still standing rigidly in the same spot. Only his eyes move, tracking you carefully as your friends lead you toward the entrance at an unhurried pace.

Something about him feels off and Sarah has no interest in provoking some potentially dangerous individual. After all, nights like these are full of creeps looking to take advantage of crowded parties and drunk girls.

Still, you glance back twice.

Each time, you catch him still looking at you.

Before fully crossing the threshold and navigating the sea of intoxicated students, your head turns one last time. The stranger is now facing the house with his shoulders squared beneath his dark clothes, and a stupid little thrill runs through your veins at the thought that maybe he might be here for the party as well.

Years without being touched by anything except harsh hands and cold medical equipment, and what unravels the Winter Soldier is a sweet-looking girl wearing bunny ears and clothes so tight he could almost trace the shape of her nipples. 

He can’t remember the last time he felt such a delicate thing brush against him.

Because you are soft. Too soft. Too pretty. He could snap your bones with one twist of his wrist, yet you looked at him like you wanted to be swallowed whole.

His heartbeat has not slowed down since the moment his hand closed around your arm. And as much as he wanted to glare at your friend the moment she took you away from him, he had taken the chance to study your body properly: from the luscious curve of your hips straining against that pathetic excuse for a skirt, to the way your tits threatened to spill from the indecent corset that looked almost painted onto your torso. The fishnet stockings bit into your flesh with every step you took, the tiny bows stitched along the hems probably meant to make the costume cute, but to the Soldier, they only made it filthier.

But the thing that truly made him swallow thickly was the puffy, white cotton tail sewn to the back of your skirt, right at the top of your ass.

Fake.

Such a shame.

He could picture it so clearly: grabbing it between his fingers and tugging until you made that sweet little sound again for him.

It makes his jaw clench beneath the mask.

With a sharp shake of his head, the Soldier forces the intrusive thoughts away.

You weren’t supposed to be here. Nobody was.

The orders had been clear: break in, eliminate everyone inside, then wait at the nearest safe house for extraction. 

No witnesses.

The target is a former HYDRA scientist who’d escaped over a decade ago. He’d covered his tracks well, moving states almost yearly, changing names often enough to become little more than smoke in old files. The Soldier vaguely wonders if the man had worked on the Winter Soldier project at some point, even if there would be no way to know. The face in the mission folder had looked painfully ordinary. Like all the others.

The wife and son were to be eliminated too, if present.

HYDRA had enforced the no witness rule brutally during his earlier missions. Back when he still hesitated. Back when stray civilians had managed to survive because he’d been too uncertain.

He can almost feel the scars across his back throb faintly at the memory—a lesson carved into flesh.

However, this situation is entirely new for the Asset.

For starters, the black SUV belonging to the scientist is missing from its usual spot in the driveway. And considering the mansion now resembles a nightclub overflowing with sweaty college students in cheap costumes, the target is clearly elsewhere.

He can’t proceed with the mission.

HYDRA hasn’t contacted him with further instructions either, which means he’s expected to wait at the designated safe house until retrieval. That could mean tomorrow. Or next week.

The Soldier looks back at the house spilling laughter and obnoxious music into the cold night air, then glances down at his gloved hand, slowly flexing his fingers.

Your warmth still seems trapped against his palm.

With a quiet exhale, barely audible beneath the pounding bass, he starts walking toward the door.

Inside, it’s pure chaos.

The bass from the speakers had already been rattling the lawn outside, but in here it practically punches through your rib cage. You roll your eyes at the umpteenth awful EDM remix of some new pop song you don’t even know the lyrics to. Personally, you’d rather dance to early 2000s hits—preferably ones not butchered by a DJ with a SoundCloud account and too much confidence.

People spill through every hallway of the mansion. The improvised dance floor is packed shoulder to shoulder with students clumsily grinding against each other beneath flashing purple lights, while smaller groups cling to the walls, shouting over the music with red cups clenched in their hands.

The smell hits the second you step inside: a mix of cheap perfume, spilled beer soaked into hardwood floors, and sweat that makes your nose wrinkle—all layered beneath the sickeningly sweet scent of vape smoke. Laughter ricochets off the high ceilings, blending with shrill screams every time the DJ blasts the fog machine over the crowd.

A staggering vampire bumps hard into your shoulder, nearly sending you wobbling off your pumps, but Sarah promptly catches your elbow before you can stumble. She immediately sends his back a glare, before shooting a look of utter disgust toward a group of visibly wasted frat boys gathered around the kitchen island.

“I hate college.” She gags dramatically, scowling as they loudly dare each other to shotgun whatever neon-colored concoction the host is pouring into their plastic cups.  

You grin at her because, honestly, Sarah would rather be home wrapped in a blanket watching some obscure slasher movie marathon. But after the stunt she pulled last Halloween, you and Nicole practically dragged her here by force. Ever since her cheating ex, she’d shut men out entirely, and a small part of you hopes tonight might finally loosen her up enough to flirt with some attractive masked stranger for a few hours.

Your attention drifts toward the windows lining the far wall. Beyond the glass, the quiet street stretches through the chilly night, washed in pale streetlights.

The strange man is nowhere to be seen.

Almost immediately, your eyes flick toward the front door, scanning person after person as they wander in and out. Vampires. Cheerleaders. Devils. Witches. Cowboys.

No sign of the hot, tall man in black tactical gear.

Disappointment settles strangely heavy in your chest. With a small, dejected sigh, you turn back toward your friends, who are currently debating whether it’s worth risking the kitchen—where there’s at least a seventy percent chance of walking in on some couple making out—for drinks, or staying in the living room to dance instead.

Adjusting your bunny ears with a small smile, you vote for alcohol.

“Hey, Nic!”

All three of you turn at the sound of a familiar voice.

Jacob, captain of the basketball team, jogs toward your group, stopping directly in front of Nicole with an easy grin plastered across his face.

“Hey, girls. Nice costumes.” He grins, wiggling his fingers at you and Sarah in greeting. She gives him a flat nod in return.

“Hi, Jacob! You too!” You smile politely, before leaning closer to your friend. “Is that a... basketball uniform?” You mumble into her ear.

“Of course.” She raises both eyebrows, pressing her lips together as she fights a chuckle at the sight of your college team’s uniform.

Jacob isn’t a bad guy. Just a little painfully self-absorbed. And maybe slightly too obsessed with basketball—to the point where being team captain has somehow become his entire personality. Nicole went on one date with him last semester and came back with a migraine after listening to him talk about playoff rankings for nearly two hours straight.

She’d tried letting him down gently afterward, but he insisted on staying friends. Now he trails after her like an overgrown golden retriever.

“Which player did he dress up as?” You ask quietly.

Sarah’s face goes completely blank. She stares at you for a full second, mouth opening and closing once before she gives up entirely and decides eavesdropping on their conversation is more worthwhile.

“I need a teammate for beer pong,” he mentions offhandedly, pointing toward the long folding table at the far end of the living room, where rows of red cups are already set up beneath flashing lights.

Nicole grimaces slightly. “I don’t know. Maybe later? I’m with my friends right now.”

“Don’t worry about us, Nic.” You interrupt immediately, grabbing Sarah’s arm before she can object. “We’re getting drinks, then we’ll come find you, right?”

Sarah smirks at Jacob’s instantly hopeful expression and nods once.

“See?” He spreads his arms dramatically. “C’mon, we’re gonna crush them. Don’t you remember? You’ve got a winning streak to defend.”

Nicole laughs—a sharp, bright sound that somehow cuts through the pounding music.

“Okay, fine.” She sighs, sending you a half-smile.

As she steps beside him, someone near the table suddenly shouts her name. Then another voice joins in. Within seconds, half the group is chanting Nicole! loud enough to rival a halftime show.

Throwing her arms into the air, she pumps her fists along with the cheers like she’s entering a stadium instead of a living room.

Sarah shakes her head before nudging you toward the kitchen. “C’mon, Lola Bunny. Let’s get a drink.”

If his handlers found out about this, he isn’t sure he would get away with something as mild as hair pulling and a few lashes on his back.

“Cool outfit, dude!”

A guy dressed up as a banana—only his face visible through the costume—shouts after him. The Soldier glances at him briefly, expression unreadable, before continuing to run a silent scan of the room, re-evaluating the night’s target. His enhanced senses catch everything at once, unfortunately: from the humid press of bodies, to the sour-sweet spill of rum beside the DJ booth. Sweat and perfume and alcohol mingle into something thick and suffocating.

“Shit, man. That’s a nice costume you got there.” Someone slurs behind him. “Looks like real metal—” Before the hand can even reach his wrist, instincts detonate and his fingers clutch the guy’s forearm.

Hard.

“Ow ow ow—sorry sorry! Y—You’re crushing my bones, dude!”

The man wearing a cheap Jack Sparrow costume goes pale beneath the eyeliner, features twisting in pain as the Asset looms over him, a silent threat carved into posture alone.

At some point, he registers a small cluster of students turning towards them, whispering with curiosity blooming into something sharper.

Exhaling, the Soldier ultimately decides to release his grip. The pirate stumbles back into his friend, who immediately starts scolding him about consent and personal space.

Satisfied with the clear warning, the Soldier turns around, moving again through the crowd.

He raises an eyebrow, scanning the sea of people with his keen eyes. Finally, he catches a familiar pair of bunny ears excitedly turning left and right.

He walks to a dark corner of the living room with deliberate ease, folding his arms across his chest and leisurely resting back against the wall.

And he waits.

Nicole’s yellow and navy-blue plaid jacket is neatly draped across Sarah’s arm as she rolls up the sleeves of her shirt, a cocky grin spreading across her face. 

“Watch and learn, losers.” She snaps, reaching for a ping-pong ball.

From the sidelines, Sarah offers a shout of encouragement, her voice already a little hoarse from all the previous screaming as Nicole sank those balls one right after the other in the rival team’s cups with brutal consistency. You lean into her slightly, eyes tracking the table from one end to the other as a red cup still full of peach vodka sits loosely in your hand, mostly forgotten as you watch the game unfold.

Nicole lines up her shot with practiced ease, wrist flicking at just the right angle. The ball arcs, drops, and sinks cleanly into the last cup with a satisfying splash.

The crowd erupts, chants of her name break out from multiple directions as you and Sarah cheer, briefly pulling Nicole into a tight, celebratory hug. Jacob throws himself at her, and she shrieks as his muscled arms lift her body from the ground, parading your friend around like he would do with the player scoring at the last minute of an important game. Nicole blows a kiss at the losing team, and once her feet touch the floor again, she bows before the intoxicated crowd surrounding the table. 

You dart forward to hug her again, while Sarah claps behind you, still laughing. 

“God, you were amazing. That was a really Tour de France!” You beam excitedly, but Nicole just stares at you deadpan for a second, before bursting out laughing, too tipsy to deal with your clueless ass.

“Thank you, bunny.”

“Also, Jacob is still very much smitten with you.” Your eyebrows wriggle up and down and Nicole is already sighing half-amused, lips parting to say something, but Sarah’s voice cuts through the moment, sharp.

“Are you fucking kidding me?”

Her expression tightens, focus snapping in place as she leans closer to you and Nicole, lowering her voice.

“Tactical guy is here.”

“Who?”

“The weird guy you bumped into outside. Black gear and blue eyes. Tactical guy.” She explains as if her choice of the nickname should be obvious.

He’s easy to spot because he doesn’t belong here—not in movement, not in stillness, not in anything about the way he stands. He towers above the crowd in matte black, posture too controlled and a judging frown permanently etched on his features.

The people around him are too inebriated to notice him, yet he doesn’t even spare a mere glance to anyone who isn’t you, not even the girl in a lingerie-level costume strutting up and down the room, hoping to catch the attention of his icy eyes. 

She doesn’t know he’s busy admiring a much better view that is making his pants tighter and tighter the more he studies it.

“Holy shit,” Nicole gasps. “He’s staring at you.”

Your stomach does a weird flip at her confirmation. At least you aren’t imagining it. 

“Yeah, and it’s creepy as hell. He hasn’t blinked once in the past five minutes.” Sarah frowns, goosebumps running up and down her arms. Nicole just smirks, eyes flicking between him and your parted lips. 

“Go talk to him!”

“What? No way!” Sarah retorts, her head snapping towards the other. “He looks like he eats people like her for breakfast.”

“Duh, that’s exactly her type!” Nicole chuckles, nudging you forward as she gently takes the cup of vodka from your hand. “C’mon, put on that pretty smile of yours and he’ll be asking you to go upstairs before the next song starts.”

Across the room, his steady gaze still hasn’t moved.

Sarah grabs your right arm again. “Seriously, something’s off about him.”

“Boring!” Nicole says in a singsong voice, rolling her eyes to the sky. “We’re literally right here if anything happens.” She touches your left elbow, subtly pushing you forward.

If this were a cartoon, they’d be the angel and devil arguing over your shoulders.

You grin as usual, even if your heart is pounding so fast you are sure it’s going to come out of your chest any moment now.

With a small nod, you leave your two bickering friends behind and slowly make your way through the bodies swaying to the beat of Candy Shop. Your heels click against the sticky floor, until they stop short in front of the brooding man. 

“Hey.” You smile, shouting over the music. “You look kinda lonely. It’s okay if you don’t know anyone, first parties are totally the worst. At my first college party, I ended up throwing up on my crush’s shoes after kissing him.” He doesn’t answer, but a deep line forms between his eyebrows.

“You’re very quiet, but that’s fine. My friend Sarah says I talk enough for two people. Or a whole group, depends on how much caffeine I’ve had.” You shrug.

Still nothing. 

“So, um… what’s your name?” You tilt your head, this time expecting at least a reluctant answer, but the guy just keeps staring down at you with an unreadable expression.

“You’re the silent type, hm?” You muse, your amused chuckle soft. “That’s okay. You’re like those spy movie protagonists who never smile until the very end, and then make everyone swoon the second they do.”

He blinks once. Slowly. Maybe a little confused?

“Anyway,” your manicured fingers adjust your bunny headband as you introduce yourself. “I don’t know if you remember but I actually ran into you earlier outside. Sorry again about that. I’m a little clumsy.” You clear your throat, taking a step forward.

“You really are a good listener, by the way!” You sigh dreamily. “Most guys just check their phones halfway through our conversation.”

“So,” You lean closer, slightly standing on the tip of your toes. “Do you want to dance? You look like you need to loosen up a little.” Your eyes immediately fall down to his torso, following the sculpted muscles hidden under those heavy clothes. It’s honestly a miracle slick doesn’t start running down your thighs the moment you realize he could literally pin you to the ground and have his wicked way with you right here in the middle of the party.

Well, you spoke too fast. 

The flimsy pair of panties you chose tonight to avoid the outline to be seen through the fit skirt, is getting damper. The thought of this beefy man fucking you until you pass out tickles the back of your brain for a second too long, and suddenly your thighs are clenching against each other in a way you are certain went unnoticed.

It didn’t. But you couldn’t know that the man in front of you is an enhanced individual who could probably track you from a single sniff of your pussy.

The pungent scent of something inherently you teases his nostrils even through the thick black mask. Yet he hesitates, as though he’s trying to determine whether ignoring you would make this conversation end faster. The problem is, he isn’t entirely sure he wants it to end. On one hand, he doubts he can keep himself together much longer if you continue speaking to him in that sweet voice, especially while standing this close to his starved body.

On the other… he doesn’t want to leave you.

But then you slip your hand into his left one, and his body stiffens.

“Wow, your hands are freezing!” You mention casually, squeezing his palm once. It’s indeed cold and weirdly smooth. Before his brain can fully process the alarming ease with which you’ve intertwined your fingers with the most dangerous weapon he possesses, you are unknowingly leading the fucking Winter Soldier straight onto a dance floor packed with sweaty college students—him silent and tense behind you, you practically glowing with excitement.

Yet, he doesn’t dare to stop you. 

Why would he do that? A gorgeous girl with soft hands and even softer eyes has been watching him like he embodies all her prohibited wet fantasies. He would be a cruel bastard to deny this pretty thing anything.

The dance floor is a chaos of flashing lights and flailing arms that makes the Soldier’s breath hitch, but you don’t give up, and lead him right into the middle of it. 

“Okay!” You yell over the music—far too close—and raise a finger. “Rule number one: just move! Don’t think too much about it or you’ll get self-conscious. I’m talking from experience.” Then raise a second one. “Rule number two: have fun!”

He just stands there—stiff as a marble statue—blue eyes darting back and forth, as if he can’t decide whether to scan the crowd like he’s on guard duty or watch the angel swaying her sinful hips right in front of him.

“See? It’s easy! Just let the music guide you.”

You smile anyway at his lack of response, peering up at him through your eyelashes. “You know, you look so cool. You’ve got this very brooding bodyguard vibe going on, like I’m some rich, dangerous man’s daughter and you’re protecting me from his enemies trying to harm me.”

Another confused blink. 

“Maybe I read too many fanfics.” You ponder under your breath, before you reprise your little tantalizing moves, giggling as your fingers barely wrap around both of his wrists to coax him to move with you.

Somewhere at the edge of the improvised dance floor, Nicole is whooping, bouncing on her feet like an overexcited puppy as she takes a sip of your drink. Beside her, Sarah observes the scene appalled.

“Shit.” She mutters, tiredly dragging a hand down her face.

“I like your company. You don’t talk much, but that’s okay. Also, you’re kind of scary—but like, in a cute way.” You chuckle, twirling once and nearly bumping into him again.

That’s when it happens.

A slow, careful shift of his shoulders, but it still is something. His movements are stiff, precise, like his body is negotiating with itself about whether it’s allowed to respond at all. But it’s enough to make you smile satisfied.

The heavy bass pulses hard through your bones, and for a moment, it’s easy to forget he isn’t even really dancing, yet his presence feels like gravity: solid, unshakable, dragging attention toward him without trying.

You turn once again, this time giving him your back. His hand accidentally brushes your hip, causing you to shiver at the faintest twitch of his fingers. They jump back at his side, flexing once like he’s fighting the urge to touch you.

You tilt your head up at him, eyelashes lowered just enough to make it feel deliberate. “Are you having fun, big guy?”

You don’t expect an answer, obviously, but the way his gaze sharpens, intensely following the movement of your lips, is enough for you. It’s not unsettling. On the contrary, it feels… focused. And you already love being the centre of his undivided attention. 

The music slows into a deeper beat, couples around you melting closer together, so you get bolder. Initially it’s your back simply brushing against his chest. And then, you unexpectedly find yourself gasping as his right arm circles your waist, keeping you firmly to his front. His jaw locks as you rub yourself against his solid body, your ass inevitably grinding against his bulge. For a second, you really think he might actually say something. Instead, his chest moves behind you with a slow exhale.

“You are so beautiful.” He murmurs against your neck, almost too quiet to hear. As a matter of fact, you don’t catch that, the words being swallowed by the loud song and the thick mask.

“Not so bad, right?” You bite your bottom lip, turning your face back enough to glance at him.

But your lips accidentally brush his mask and the last thread keeping his brain anchored to sanity rips in half.

“Oh!” A loud squeal erupts from your lips as the man spins you around and takes you into his arms. Suddenly, the world is hanging upside down.

Well, no. You are.

He throws your squirming body on his shoulder with an ease that should scare you, yet your stomach twists in excitement as you are kept completely still into his strong arms. You can feel several eyes burn through you as he struts towards the front door, an abrupt gust of cold wind sending a shiver down your spine as you realize he’s taking you somewhere outside.

“Oh my Gosh!” You giggle, feeling the urge to kick your legs like a teenage girl gushing about her crush. 

He’s taking you to the woods. This is really happening!

Inside, Nicole freezes mid-sip. “What the—is he taking her away?”

“I told you! Fuck, Nicole! I told you!” Sarah shrieks, running to the door with her friend in tow. They both stop on the porch, eyes frantically searching into the darkness, until they see you waving at them from his shoulder, grinning ear to ear. 

“Don’t wait up!” Nicole bursts out laughing, astonished.

“Holy shit, look at her, she’s loving it!”

Sarah groans in response, pressing a hand to her forehead, her chest heaving with quick, short breaths. “She’s giggling. She’s actually giggling. Why is she giggling?”

Nicole simply shrugs. “If a quiet, huge masked man with those gorgeous eyes picked me up like that to fuck me in the woods, I’d giggle too.”

They observe in silence as you get smaller and smaller, until you completely disappear amongst the dense trees. Nicole sighs, placing her hands on her hips.

“Well, you heard her, don’t need to wait up.” She claps once, skipping down the front steps.

“Where the fuck are you going? Of course we’re gonna wait for her to come back.” Nicole stops at the bottom of the stoop, throwing Sarah a deadpan look.

“You really think she’s coming back here? They will probably go at it like bunnies—pun not intended—all night, and then he’s going to take her home tomorrow morning.” She climbs two steps, grasping her friend’s wrist. “Like any adult having fun on Halloween.” She tugs at it, until Sarah reluctantly complies, hesitatingly following her to the Nissan.

“I don’t know, Nic. There’s something wrong about him—” 

“So what if the guy is quiet? Maybe he just wants to stay in character.” She huffs, raising both her eyebrows expectantly. 

“Mmh... that makes sense.” Sarah mutters, frowning at the trees. “Where are we going, by the way?”

“Home. And we are watching the new The Conjuring. You look miserable here.”

“Well thanks, you asshole.”

“You still haven’t told me your name.” You breathe out, yet to be released. After a few seconds of silence, you huff out a laugh. “You really don’t talk much, do you? By the way, that exit was so dramatic. I loved it!” He grunts in reply, shaking his head. It’s a deep sound that makes your legs shake a little, and you hope you’ll hear it again when he pounds you against a tree.

The walk feels endless as you dangle upside down, forced to watch the ground without anyone to talk to. Finally, he stops in a rather secluded place, and from the looks of it, you must be quite far from Ethan’s house.

Good. You don’t need some wandering drunk couple ruining your night.

As soon as your heels touch the crouching leaves scattered on the damp land, you shriek in surprise, finding yourself pinned to a tree as the man’s hands eagerly explore the sides of your body.

“O—oh! That—that feels nice.” You gasp when his palms squeeze your tits, his thumbs roughly stroking your nipples. The Asset’s eyes don’t know where to focus, torn between your hazy eyes staring up at him pleadingly and the outline of your turgid nubs pressing insistently against the fabric of your top.

“I need to kiss you.” He mumbles, the tip of your nose brushing against his mask. The hoarseness in his voice makes you flinch. It feels like he hasn’t spoken in a while... A long while.

“I don’t understand you.” You complain, clinging onto his vest to keep him close. He sighs, abruptly leaving your chest to cradle your face with a certain rudeness that twists your insides with arousal.

“Kiss. But you close… eyes…” He utters tentatively, staring right into your sparkling eyes. “Don’t look.” 

The implications of seeing his face are several and dire. First and foremost, he doesn’t even remember the last time he saw his reflection, and his heart wouldn’t bear a potential rejection. What HYDRA forces him to do is repulsive, but of course you don’t know who he is—and you don’t need to. His face could reflect that repulsiveness though, and be in the worst conditions known to mankind. At that point, why would someone as lovely as you allow him to taint your body with his touch? 

Plus, recognizing him would mean putting a target as large as a skyscraper on your back. If anyone were to ever find out about this, you would be in serious danger with both legal and illegal organizations. 

The less you know, the better.

Your eager nod momentarily sets his worries, your hands immediately shooting up to cover your face. The Soldier’s mouth twists into what should be a small smile, but probably looks more like a grimace after years of his features knowing only pain and anger. His trembling fingers reach for the side of the mask, stopping there briefly to take you in. He waits, just enough to make sure you are actually following his order. Then, the device is tossed to the side with an uncaring flick of his hand, falling on the ground with a dull thud.

His fingers shake as they wrap around each of your wrists, waiting. 

“Kiss, but… don’t look.” He repeats, his voice coming out in a rough, agitated whisper.

“My eyes are closed.” You swear, giving him a resolute nod. The Soldier lowers your hands with great care, until he can see your pinched expression as you keep your eyes squeezed shut. 

And then, your lips finally meet. From the way he was treating you a second ago, you would think he was going to kiss you just as softly, like a doll made of glass.

Wrong.

The kiss is feral. His teeth clash against yours, biting and tasting you as if he has been waiting for you his whole life, his tongue frantically searching yours as his hands keep your jaw firmly open, allowing him to do whatever he wants with you. 

And you can’t help a needy whimper from clawing out of your throat.

The Soldier pulls you closer to his chest, his metal arm now wrapping around your waist as the other hand traces a slow path down your body, from the side of your breast to your exposed thigh, leaving behind a trail of goosebumps. 

He knows he just crossed an inviolable line he won’t easily come back from. He was ruined the moment he decided to look for you inside that chaotic mansion instead of following HYDRA’s orders. Yet, that stinging guilt rapidly crumbles the more he kisses this sweet creature.

He has yearned for something warm for so long. Something soft, and pretty, and nice. Something that is completely and utterly his. And now, it is time to finally collect what he is owed.

The sloppy kiss is met with eagerness from your part, your hands urgently tugging at his vest to keep him pressed against your squirming form. You need more. You need to feel him too. 

He reaches for the corset first, pulling both cups down until your breasts spill free from their confines. Once his lips leave yours to focus on your neck, you let out a gasp at how dizzy you feel—your head has been spinning all along because of the intensity radiating off him.

Your moans are still pretty restrained, and the Asset doesn’t like that at all. He wants to hear you whimper for him, beg him to paint your insides white, scream his name over and over again in that sweet voice of yours.

His name. 

He doesn’t own a name.

Maybe you could give him one. You sound like a creative girl, with all your silly little anecdotes.

When his mouth finally reaches the swell of your chest, the sight of your soft, bare tits makes him grunt appreciatively. His lips immediately latch onto one of your nipples, while his capable fingers flick and tug at the other. Your whimpers echo through the small clearing as he uses his teeth to lightly pull at your sensitive nub, moaning as he feels it hardening in his mouth. The way he kneads and sucks at your soft skin reminds you of a starving man being offered food after a week without eating.

The Soldier has never seen a more beautiful pair of breasts in his entire life. Well, he doesn’t remember ever looking at a woman’s chest before, but if he did, he is sure it wouldn’t even get close to yours. 

The hickeys that now mark the tender skin of your tits are burning, causing you to flinch each time the Soldier’s tongue worships them softly. 

“What—oh shit—what’s your name?” You utter between your own wanton noises, eyes still closed as your head falls back against the bark of the tree. Your bare back keeps brushing against it as your body jerks in time with his tongue stroking your nipples. They are so sore, tingling whenever he leaves one exposed to the chilly October air to give the other some love. Still, the scratches on your back are already burning as the coarse surface cruelly scrapes your skin, and you’re certain they are going to hurt so bad in the following days.

The Asset momentarily leaves your nub with a wet pop, frowning up at your parted lips. He grips your jaw with one hand, keeping your mouth open while rising to his full height. He gathers a bit of saliva, before letting it fall gently onto your tongue. Your breath hitches at the unexpected, lewd act.

“Swallow.” His cock twitches at the way you obey at once.

“Soldat.” His voice is authoritative, leaving no space for questions and doubts, before going back to lavish your nipples. Your eyebrows momentarily knit in confusion, not understanding what it means.

Is it a video game character? Is that why he’s all geared up like some sort of spy?

Your brain doesn’t have the time to elaborate a sensible question, as a twist of your poor, abused peaks draws a loud cry out of your throat. 

The scent coming from between your legs is now too much for his straining cock. He needs to taste all of you: your mouth is sweet, your breasts are sweet... but the Soldier is certain your pussy is even sweeter.

With an annoyed huff at the realization he has to leave your tits, he makes quick work of removing his tactical vest, tossing it on the ground. You squeal as you are once again lifted in the air; still, you keep your eyes firmly shut and that makes his expression soften a little. 

“You’re such a good girl for me, sweetheart.” With a small peck, he takes you away from the poor tree that has already witnessed enough for one night, manhandling you down on your knees and guiding your hands on the ground to make you understand he wants you on all four.

“Stay.” The order growled right into your ear, along with his hands squeezing your hips, makes you whimper and nod quickly as a reflex.

Now that he’s behind you, you deem the situation safe enough for you to slowly open your eyes. Black spots soon materialize out of nowhere, yet you notice immediately the rough fabric underneath you. 

“Oh,” you blink at it. “Thank you, Soldat.” 

There might be a feral beast clawing at his chest, challenging him to take you right there right now, over and over again, but he doesn’t want the rough ground to scratch your knees and palms. The softness in your voice makes him tense up, enough to feel an unfamiliar sting behind his eyes. His name—his title—said with so much gentleness stokes the flames in his lower belly until he feels a damn blaze licking at his insides.

You barely catch the black glove being discarded to the side as his calloused hands grope your hips, pushing you back against his crotch. You gasp at the ferocity he puts into his thrusts as he starts rutting your ass, grunting and panting with the effort of not coming in his pants like a fucking virgin seeing a pretty girl half-naked for the first time.

“This is what you’ve done to me.” He groans under his breath.

“Soldat…” You hum, one arm reaching behind to caress a strong thigh. “Don’t tell me you’re going to come like this, humping me like an animal.” The little airy giggle you let out makes him swallow, a shiver running down his back at those mocking words that should make him recoil. Instead, the fire grows, and before he can regain control of his body, his hips stop abruptly. 

His nimble fingers don’t waste any more time, lifting the hem of your skirt until your ass is completely at his mercy.

“Yes, yes!” You encourage him, gently rocking back. The heady scent is stronger now, but it’s still not enough. The flimsy panties leave you with a sad ripping noise and a feral growl rumbling in his chest. A gasp falls from your lips at the sudden bareness of your core, giggling when you hear him inhale deeply. Is he smelling your underwear? Fuck, you want to turn around so bad and enjoy the show.

The Soldier almost drools when your scent clings to his nose, along with your slick soiling the delicate fabric. He clumsily stuffs your panties into his pocket, shifting around until he’s lying right beneath the lower half of your body.

“C’mere, bunny.” His digits sink into the skin of your thighs, forcing you down until you are fully sitting on his face. “It’s time to eat.”

“Wait! Oh, fuck!” Your lips part pathetically around a breathy moan as his tongue looks for your clit, pulling your knees apart until you’re completely spread open for him. Tears form at the corners of your eyes as your hips uncontrollably buckle down, clawing at the vest when the tip of his tongue leisurely flicks your throbbing nub.

A loud moan escapes your lips when he finally breaches your hole, eating and sucking as if he’s savoring the most exquisite delicacy he’s ever had the chance to taste. Your body squirms at the unforgiving stimulation, still, you’re covering his face like a fucking oxygen mask and you’re far too worried he’s not breathing at all. 

“S—Soldat, wait! You can’t brea—AH!” A smacking sound echoes through the air as his palm leaves his mark on your asscheek. “Fuck, please! Do it again.” You beg, hips grinding down without restraint as slick shamelessly falls into his waiting mouth.

Finally.

The Asset internally preens at your enthusiastic reaction to something he did so spontaneously. Unprompted. Human.

Because you are not treating him like a ruthless weapon. A lethal killer that acts in the shadow. An ugly experiment with no dignity left. 

But like a man.

So he does it again. And again. 

“Taste so good, my pretty bunny.” He rasps out, returning to your clit, two of his fingers curling inside you in the meantime. You yelp, the knot in your belly getting closer and closer to snapping. Your asscheeks are burning, yet you don’t stop his punishing palm, instead arching up into his hand every time it comes down on your tender skin. 

“I’m gonna come.” You mumble deliriously, sobbing when in response his metal palm smacks your ass before meanly grabbing the tender flesh, and a third finger joins the other two, pounding against that sweet spot of yours before your orgasm hits you out of nowhere.

“Fuck fuck—Soldat!”

He wonders what he’s going to do from now on when he hears that word. It would be impossible to not get hard as your delightful whines resound through his mind. 

Your hole clenches desperately as he nurses on your throbbing clit one last time, panting heavily once he lifts your shaky thighs up. 

“Holy shit.” He whispers surprised, licking his lips clean. His lower face is completely damp with your arousal, and in that moment he decides he’s not going to wash his face until the scent disappears on its own. 

The Soldier takes a good, long look at your trembling body, now back on his knees behind you. His palms gently caress your raw skin, pulling a shiver out of you as one of his two palms is colder than the other, yet the sensation is soothing against your burning cheeks. 

He would really love to kiss the sensitive spots until you fall asleep, but he can’t stop now, not when his cock is painfully craving to be inside you, his imposing bulge pushing forcefully against his pants.

The rustling sounds behind you are loud but you can’t find it in yourself to focus, still dizzy after the violent orgasm Soldat drew out of you mercilessly. You are not inexperienced by any means, yet you’ve never come this hard and fast in your life. You wonder if it’s the whole situation influencing you—being half-naked in the woods while a feral, beefy stranger eats your pussy as if it’s his last day on Earth—or if he’s just that good.

Maybe it’s a mix of both, maybe it’s something else. You don’t care. You just want him to rearrange your insides. Now.

You seem to share the same sentiment as your eyes widen at his cock obstinate at your wet folds. Your gasp soon morphs into a startled moan when the tip slides inside. The way he feeds you his length is far from careful, and without warning, your hole is tightening around all of him.

The Soldier needs to take a deep breath, the muscles in his abdomen clenching to prevent himself from disappointing you by spilling his cum at once.

When was the last time he was intimate with someone? When was the last time he felt something other than fear? 

He doesn’t hold back, gradually pulling back, before lust takes over him and your trembling arms give up under you. You fall forward with a whimper, resting your cheek on his vest as his grip on your hips becomes brutal, and barely catching the foreign words being muttered under his breath.

You are delirious with pleasure, the stretch of his thick girth burning so good you can’t breath—for a second you truly fear your hole is going to tear apart.

It’s almost humiliating how it takes only a big cock and a pair of broad shoulders to reduce you to a shaky mess of moans and whimpers. 

“Beautiful, sweet creature... you’re so lovely.” The obscene, sloppy noises of your pussy swallowing every inch of him drives him insane. You’re like heaven incarnate wrapped around him, and he refuses to leave, his hips barely pulling back as he clumsily humps you from behind. 

“Mine, mine, mine.” You whisper the name he gave you, lying helpless with your eyes rolled into oblivion and drool soaking the dark fabric under you. It’s a miracle how the bunny headband still survives on your head as his harsh thrusts push your body back and forth, your fingers weakly holding onto the same ruined vest that your nipples brush against, now rubbed raw and sensitive.

“That’s a good girl. She’s squeezing me so tight, baby. I can’t let you go now that I found you, need to keep you forever here around my cock.” He grits out, head falling back as he feels his orgasm dangerously close, yet he’s ready to deny himself over and over again until he can feel you come around him again.

“Bet you’d like that... be my little cumdump until you are too full it starts spilling down your thighs. But I’ll just fuck more into you and then everyone will know you are fucking mine.” That’s when, with his mind clouded by pure pleasure, he reaches between your wet thighs, experimentally spanking your clit.

“Fuck!” Your squeal pulls a smirk on his lips, prompting him to do that again, his thrusts still frantic and erratic. 

“Take it, my sweet little bunny. That’s it.”

Your nub throbs as the man fucking you like an animal smacks it repeatedly, and you’re certain he’s enjoying himself so much watching you jolt each time, panting like a dog the louder you whimper. His tip relentlessly taps your sweet spot, and it’s just a matter of time before you let out a delirious moan, walls tightening as your second climax washes over you—this time leaving you stiff and crying as wave after wave of bliss settle deep in your bones. 

 “Got… you.” The Asset grits out breathless as he buries his cock deep into you with a hard, final thrust, succumbing to the overwhelming sensation of your hole squeezing him. He falls over the edge with a guttural groan. Thick, hot ropes of cum flood your insides at once—there’s so much of it you almost choke at the unfamiliar yet pleasant sensation of being stuffed full.

You shiver under him, exhausted but sated, yet the Soldier doesn’t seem to want to budge, still hugging you tight as his thighs shakes at every little twitch of his cock. 

It feels too much.

His dick snug inside your tight heat, your body held with care by the same hands soiled with innocents’ blood, the sudden emptiness in his chest after such a heavenly experience... Should he cry? He feels like crying. He’s almost certain of it, though he doesn’t understand why. He just had the best night of his entire life with the most beautiful woman he has ever seen. 

Still, the weird sensation sits somewhere deep in his chest, heavy and unfamiliar, pressing against ribs that only know obedience and survival.

He knows he’ll have to move eventually, reality catching up to him the moment he steps too far from this strange warmth you keep offering so freely.

But he doesn’t want to let you go yet.

Honestly, he isn’t sure he can.

“Soldat, my back hurts.” Your voice is feeble yet tinted with amusement. Still, he scrambles on his knees, pulling out carefully in fear of hurting you. You wheeze softly at the sudden loss, your weak arms barely moving at your sides as you try to get yourself into an upright position, but the man behind you has other plans. You find yourself facing him at once, gently led down until your back is touching the vest.

With your mind too foggy with exhaustion, it is hard to remember the only rule he gave you. And shock flashes across your face the moment you can finally see Soldat’s handsome features clearly.

Your lips part, a compliment already rising to the surface, but it never makes it out. His hands come up instead, cradling your face with surprising tenderness before guiding you into a slow, lingering kiss. There’s no urgency in his actions this time, no hunger sharpened by desperation. Just some deep and achingly careful adoration that makes your heart clench painfully all the same. The kind of kiss that feels dangerously close to a goodbye. Like he’s trying to memorize you through touch alone.

He kisses you until your lungs are begging for oxygen, and when he finally pulls away, neither of you can move. His blue eyes simply observe you, urgently tracing your features with a spark of veneration glinting in his gaze.

You look like the personification of debauchery with your smudged mascara and lips swollen from kissing and biting, the poor bunny ears hanging crookedly from your hair after being fucked so crudely.

Yet, the Winter Soldier thinks he has never seen anything prettier.

“I looked at you.” You whisper softly, your dazed eyes dancing over his face with sleepy fascination, utterly devoid of remorse.

His right thumb lovingly strokes your cheek, and somewhere beneath the Soldier, beneath HYDRA’s cruelty, something human finally smiles back at you.

— ⟢ END NOTES: thank you so much for reading 🤍 my masterlist → winteryn's masterlist

[heldbybarnes]

bucky slowly realizing he can’t live without y/n? it creeps up on him so subtly he doesn’t even realize it, but suddenly his day doesn’t start until u walk into the room? or he can only concentrate once he knows ur safe? he doesn’t know when exactly u became his entire world and he’s a bit terrified of it bcuz of how easily he could lose u

There’s no lightning bolt, no cinematic swell of music, no single moment where Bucky Barnes wakes up and thinks, I can’t live without her.

It creeps in quietly. Patiently. Like dawn bleeding into the sky before you even realize the sun is up.

At first, it’s small things.

He notices that his coffee tastes better when you’re in the kitchen with him. Not because you add anything to it—he still drinks it black—but because you’re there, humming softly while you dig through the fridge, stealing sips from his mug when you think he’s not looking. He pretends not to see. Pretends not to wait for it.

But on mornings you sleep in? He finds himself standing at the counter longer than necessary, mug cooling in his metal hand, listening for your footsteps in the hall.

His day doesn’t feel like it’s started until you appear.

He tells himself it’s coincidence.

It isn’t.

He realizes it again during missions.

There was a time when Bucky could compartmentalize anything. He could put emotions in a locked box, shove it to the back of his mind, and focus solely on the objective. Clean. Efficient. Detached.

Now?

Now he checks his phone before every briefing.

Just to make sure you texted back.

Just to make sure you’re safe.

He doesn’t relax until he sees your name on the screen—some mundane message about groceries or a picture of the stray cat you’re trying to befriend. His shoulders loosen. His breathing evens out.

Only then can he concentrate.

Sam notices it before he does.

“You’re distracted,” Sam mutters one afternoon while they’re reviewing intel.

“I’m not.”

“You are.”

Bucky bristles automatically, jaw tightening. But when Sam raises a brow and glances pointedly at the phone in Bucky’s hand, Bucky feels something twist low in his gut.

He sets it down. Pushes it away.

He doesn’t pick it up again.

Not for fifteen whole minutes.

And then he checks it anyway.

It’s subtle at first, the way you become the axis his world turns on.

He starts timing his workouts so he’s home when you are. Starts grocery shopping for things you like without thinking about it. Starts leaving a light on if you’re coming back late because he doesn’t like the idea of you walking into a dark apartment.

He tells himself it’s just… consideration.

He doesn’t realize it’s devotion.

The first time it truly hits him is on a random Friday.

You’re late.

You said you’d be home by six.

It’s 6:17.

And Bucky is pacing.

He hates that he’s pacing.

His chest feels tight in a way he hasn’t felt in years—like something is pressing down on his ribs from the inside. He checks his phone. No new messages. He considers calling you, then stops himself. He doesn’t want to be overbearing.

You’re fine.

You’re fine.

You’re—

The lock clicks.

You walk in, shaking rain from your jacket, muttering about traffic and a flat tire and how your phone died halfway through the tow.

You barely get two steps inside before he’s in front of you.

“You okay?” His voice is rough, sharper than he means it to be. His hands hover at your shoulders like he’s afraid to grab you too tightly.

You blink at him. “Yeah? Buck, I’m fine.”

But he doesn’t breathe properly until he pulls you into his chest and feels the steady rhythm of your heart beneath his palm.

And that’s when it settles in.

The realization.

It’s quiet and terrifying and absolute.

His world doesn’t function right without you in it.

He doesn’t know when it happened.

He doesn’t know the exact moment you became the first thing he looks for in every room, the person his mind reaches for when things go wrong, the calm in the storm of his thoughts.

He just knows that somewhere along the way, you stopped being a part of his life and became the center of it.

And that scares the hell out of him.

Because Bucky Barnes knows loss.

He knows how easily things can be ripped away.

He knows what it’s like to wake up in a world where everything you love is gone.

The thought of that happening with you?

It makes him feel hollow.

He starts watching you differently after that; much more aware.

Of how you laugh when you’re half-asleep. Of how you chew your bottom lip when you’re thinking. Of the way your hand always finds his without looking.

He memorizes you.

Like if he learns every detail, he’ll somehow be able to keep you.

One night, you catch him staring.

“What?” you ask, smiling softly from where you’re curled against him on the couch.

He hesitates.

He doesn’t do vulnerable easily.

But this feels too big to swallow.

“I don’t remember when it happened,” he says quietly.

“When what happened?”

“When you became… everything.”

You go still.

His thumb brushes over your knuckles, metal cool against your warm skin.

“My day doesn’t start until I see you,” he admits. “I can’t focus unless I know you’re safe. If you’re late, I feel like I can’t breathe.” His jaw tightens. “And that’s— that’s dangerous.”

“Dangerous?” you whisper.

“For me.” He swallows. “Because I know how easy it is to lose things. I know how fragile good things are. And you…” His voice falters just slightly. “You’re the best thing I’ve got.”

You reach up, cupping his face in your hands, forcing him to look at you.

“Bucky,” you murmur, pressing your forehead to his. “I’m not going anywhere.”

“You can’t promise that.”

“No,” you agree softly. “But I can promise I’m here right now. And I choose you. Every day.”

The tightness in his chest eases, just a fraction.

He wraps his arms around you, holding you close like he’s grounding himself in something solid.

He may not know when you became his entire world.

He may never pinpoint the exact moment.

But he knows if loving you means being terrified of losing you, he’ll take that fear.

[heldbybarnes]

Hiii just thought about this

Reader works as lifeguard, it can be in a pool or a beach, and bucky is her husband who loves to admire her from afar even if he's on work or mission. Which cause alot of distraction and hard to get his attention back.

(would be cute seeing bucky being inlove whenever he sees his wife being serious in her job)

lore drop: i was a lifeguard in high school (traumatizing times for lil k)

--------

When realizes it’s a problem, he’s standing on a mission briefing call with Sam in one ear and Steve pacing somewhere behind him—and he hasn’t heard a single word in the last thirty seconds.

“Buck? You still with me?” Sam’s voice crackles through the comm.

“Yeah,” Bucky answers automatically, even though he’s not. Not even a little.

Because you’re down below him, framed by sun and water and the bright white edge of the lifeguard stand, completely absorbed in your job.

You don’t look like his wife right now—not in the way he’s used to. Not soft and sleepy in the mornings, not laughing on the couch with your legs thrown over his lap, not teasing him over coffee.

No, right now you look focused. Sharp. All straight lines and quick movements, scanning the water with practiced precision. Your sunglasses are perched on your nose, your posture perfect, whistle resting against your collarbone like a promise.

You look… untouchable.

And Bucky can’t stop staring.

“Barnes,” Steve says, a little louder this time, stepping into his line of sight.

Bucky blinks, dragged back into the moment, but it’s delayed, like surfacing from underwater. “What?”

Steve follows his gaze without meaning to—and then huffs, something amused flickering across his face. “You’ve got to be kidding me.”

Bucky doesn’t even bother denying it. “I’m listening.”

“You’re not,” Sam cuts in immediately. “You’re absolutely not.”

“I am.”

“You just agreed to something I didn’t even say yet.”

Bucky grimaces. “…Okay, maybe I’m not.”

Sam laughs outright. “Man is down catastrophic.”

Bucky ignores him. Mostly because he’s already looking back at you.

There’s something about the way you move when you’re working that does something to him—something deep and instinctive. It’s not just that you look good (though, yeah, you absolutely do in that red lifeguard suit, skin sun-warmed and glowing). It’s the way you take it seriously.

The way your eyes never stop moving.

The way your body is always ready.

The way you don’t hesitate.

A kid jumps off the side of the pool a little too recklessly, and you’re already shifting, watching, calculating. Someone calls out from the shallow end and you’re down from the stand in seconds, jogging over, calm but firm.

Bucky swears his heart stutters.

“Okay,” Sam says, clearly watching this unfold in real time now. “This is worse than I thought.”

“He’s in love,” Steve says simply, like that explains everything.

Bucky scoffs, but it’s weak. “I’m married to her.”

“Yeah,” Sam replies. “And somehow that made it worse.”

Bucky should argue. Should focus. Should drag his attention back to the mission, the plan, literally anything else.

Instead, he leans his forearms on the railing and just… watches.

Because you don’t notice him yet.

You’re too busy, too focused, too good at what you do to spare him even a glance, and for some reason that makes it all the more impossible to look away. You belong to him, yeah—but right now, you belong to this moment. To your job. To the people you’re responsible for.

And God, he loves that.

He loves you soft, he loves you sweet, he loves you half-asleep and curled into him—but this version of you?

This version steals the air straight out of his lungs.

“Buck,” Steve tries again, a little more gently this time. “We need you here.”

“I am here,” Bucky insists, even as his eyes track you crossing the deck again.

“You’re really not.”

Bucky exhales through his nose, scrubbing a hand over his face before forcing himself to look away. It physically hurts a little, like tearing himself out of orbit.

“Fine,” he mutters. “Run it back.”

Sam doesn’t even try to hide the grin in his voice as he starts over. “Alright, Romeo, listen up—”

It lasts maybe a minute.

Two, if he’s being generous.

Your whistle blows.

Bucky’s head snaps up before he can stop himself.

“—you have got to be kidding me,” Sam groans.

Someone’s struggling in the deeper end. It’s not full panic yet, but it’s heading there fast—and before anyone else can even react, you’re already moving.

You dive clean.

The water barely splashes as you cut through it, strong, sure strokes carrying you straight to the kid. Bucky’s entire body goes tight, every instinct screaming at him to jump in after you—even though you don’t need it. Even though you’ve done this a hundred times.

You reach them in seconds, voice calm, hands steady, guiding them back, keeping them afloat.

You’re in control.

You’re always in control.

And when you pull them to the side, helping them out, crouching down to check on them with that same focused concern—Bucky swears something in his chest cracks wide open.

“…Buck?” Steve says, quieter now.

But Bucky doesn’t answer.

Because you’re laughing softly now, reassuring the kid, brushing wet hair out of your face, and then—finally—you glance up.

Right at him.

It’s like the world tilts.

Your whole expression shifts the second you spot him. The sharpness melts, replaced with something warm and familiar and so unmistakably yours that it hits him harder than anything else.

You smile.

And just like that, he’s gone.

“Hi,” you call up to him, shading your eyes with your hand.

Bucky forgets every single word he’s supposed to say into the comm. “Hi,” he echoes, softer, like it’s just for you.

Sam makes a noise that’s somewhere between a laugh and a groan. “Oh my God.”

“You’re working,” you remind him, a little teasing, even from a distance.

“So are you,” he shoots back.

You grin, shaking your head before turning back to your stand, climbing up like nothing just happened.

Like you didn’t just completely derail him, again.

There’s a beat of silence on the comm.

Then Steve sighs, long-suffering. “We’re never getting anything done, are we?”

“Nope,” Sam says immediately.

Bucky doesn’t even try to argue this time.

Because you’re back in your chair, scanning the water again, all focus and purpose—and he already knows exactly how this is going to go.

He’s going to try.

He’s going to fail.

He’s going to fall in love with you all over again every single time you don’t even realize you’re doing it.

[aphroditaeon]

Does Levi ask you to be their GF or does be just refer to you as his GF and you just go with it 😭

LMAOOOOOO I love this idea, he doesn’t even ask, he’s like Yeah, we’re dating, you’re mine, end of story (in his head) after asking you out for dinner once 😭 It would be even funnier if you weren’t sure you were really dating or exclusive for the longest time too bc he just never made it clear and you were too afraid to find out SKSJSK (meanwhile he’s looking at engagement rings)

[sergeantbarnessdoll]

Hey Shannon, sorry for the spam 🙈

Can I please request something with Bucky where he kisses the reader every chance he gets, sometimes he kisses the reader and says "I love you" in between kisses, which makes the reader laugh or he randomly pecks her lips, which makes the reader smile even more.

When the reader found out she is pregnant, Bucky is on cloud nine and he is being happy. He does everything, carrying bags, doing chores, being with the reader at every appointment etc., he truly loves her, when the reader feels insecure about her changing body he does everything to convince her other wise, when her stomach is very visible he covers her tummy with kisses and talks to their Baby, being already a loving (girl) dad that's the moment when they found out that they are having a baby girl 🥺🥺❤️❤️

Sorry I got carried away 🥺

Thank you so much 🫂❤️

Love That Grows Even More -> Bucky Barnes/Winter Soldier

Pairings-> Husband!Bucjy Barnes x Wife/Pregnant!Reader

Summary-> Bucky loves you more than anything and that love grows even more when you and him find out you’re pregnant.

Warnings-> Fluff, language, kissing, pregnancy hormones, morning sickness, insecurities, crying, pet names

A/N-> @jackys-stuff-blog thank you for the beautiful request🩵

Written on my phone. My apologies for any mistakes

Header made by my friend / divider made by me

GIF IS NOT MINE! Gif credit goes to the creator

Bucky loves you more than anything. He falls more and more in love with you everyday. He always gives you kisses and says he loves you every chance he gets. You could be doing the most simplest thing and he’ll kiss you and tell you he loves you. Like right now, you’re almost done cooking dinner when Bucky came into the kitchen. You were so focused on cooking that you didn’t hear him come into the kitchen. He walks over to you and wraps his arms around you from behind, making you smile. He kisses your cheek. You turned your head just enough to kiss him.

“Do you have any idea how much I love you?” Bucky asks.

“You say it about an infinite amount of times a day, but I would love to hear it more than that.” You say.

“How about an infinite more I love you’s?” He asks.

“I would love nothing more.” You say.

Bucky smiles and kisses you again. The kisses didn’t stop there. After dinner, you and Bucky decided to watch a movie. You and him were cuddling on the couch and he continued to give you more kisses. He also said he loves you.

“I love you so much, doll.” He almost whispers.

“I love you more, sweetheart.” You say softly.

“Impossible.” He says.

“Possible.” You smiled.

Bucky smiles back and kisses you again.

A few days go by when you find out you’re pregnant. Bucky was on his morning run with Steve and Sam when you found out. You stared at the positive pregnancy test with the looks of excitement and happiness on your face. Bucky comes home just in time too, because you’re beyond excited to tell him. You ran out of the bathroom and straight to the door to greet your husband. You kissed him before he could say one word.

“What’s got you so excited this morning?” Bucky curiously asks.

“I have exciting news!” You say.

“Care to tell me what it is?” He asks.

Instead of telling him, you showed him the positive pregnancy test. Bucky stares at it in shock. He’s shocked in a good way.

“Does that mean what I think it means?” He asks just to be sure.

“Yes, I’m pregnant!” You exclaimed happily.

“Oh my god! This is wonderful, doll!” He exclaims happily.

Bucky kisses you with so much passion that it took your breath away. You two smiled against each other’s lips.

“We’re having a baby.” Bucky almost whispers.

“We’re having a baby.” You say just as softly.

In that very moment, Bucky fell even more in love with you. He’s happy and excited to begin this new chapter in yours and his lives.

You and Bucky were beyond excited to go to your first doctors appointment. Although, you couldn’t help but feel a little bit nervous. Luckily for you, Bucky was right by your side the whole time.

“I’m a little nervous, Bucky.” You say.

“It’s going to be ok, doll. I’m right here.” Bucky says softly.

A nurse calls your name and takes you to an exam room. Bucky held your hand as you two went back there.

“How are you feeling?” The doctor asks as she gets the ultrasound machine set up.

“Nervous.” You tell her.

“It’s ok to be nervous.” She assures you.

Bucky’s hand never left yours throughout the ultrasound. His free hand caresses your cheek, his thumb gently rubbing your skin. Then you and him finally heard the baby’s heartbeat for the first time. Tears filled yours and his eyes.

“That’s your baby’s heartbeat.” The doctor says.

The doctor shows you and Bucky the monitor and points yours and his baby out to you two. A huge smile grew on yours and his faces.

“And there’s your baby.” She says.

You and Bucky smiled as you two looked at the monitor and then looked at each other.

“That’s our baby!” Bucky says excitedly.

“It is!” You say just as excitedly.

Bucky leans down and kisses you sweetly. The doctor prints out the ultrasound pictures and then you two left. You two looked at the ultrasound pictures in the car for a moment.

“We’re having a baby.” Bucky smiles.

“We’re having a baby.” You smiled.

Bucky was very attentive throughout your pregnancy. He did everything for you. He knows that you can do things on your own, but he wants to help in any way he can.

“Why don’t you go relax on the couch and watch TV and I’ll bring the groceries in and put them away.” Bucky says as soon as you and him get home from the grocery store.

“Are you sure? I’ll be more than happy to help you.” You say.

“I’m sure.” He says.

Bucky gives you a kiss before you went inside of the house. You went to the living room and turned on your favorite show while Bucky brought the groceries in the house and put them away. When he was done, he went to the living room and sat down next to you. Bucky, being the amazing husband he is, brought you a snack and something to drink.

“I thought you might want a snack and something to drink.” He says.

“You’re so sweet. Thank you, baby.” You smiled.

“You’re welcome, doll.” He smiles.

Like always, his hand rests on your small pregnant belly.

“How’s our little one doing?” He asks.

“He or she is doing great.” You say, putting your hand on top of his.

Bucky was even there for you when you had morning sickness. He didn’t mind getting out of bed and sitting on the bathroom floor to comfort you. He just wanted to be there in any way he can. As if it were on cue like it is almost every morning, you ran straight to the bathroom. Bucky got out of bed as soon as you did. He followed you to the bathroom. He got a washcloth wet with cold water before sitting down on the bathroom floor behind you. He even put your hair in a bun so you didn’t get anything in your hair. After a few seconds, you leaned back against your husband. Bucky gently put the wet washcloth on your forehead. The coldness of the washcloth felt good against your skin.

“How are you feeling now?” Bucky asks softly.

“I think I’m good for the time being.” You say.

You spoke too soon. You got sick again. Bucky comforted you by rubbing your back.

“Now, I think I’m fine.” You say.

“That’s good.” He says.

Bucky stands up from the bathroom floor and helps you up. You brushed your teeth so you didn’t have that gross aftertaste in your mouth. Then he gently guides you back to the bedroom.

“Let’s go back to bed for a little bit longer.” He says softly.

“What about your morning run with Steve and Sam?” You asked.

“I’ll text them. Besides, you and the baby are way more important than running.” He says.

“Ok.” You smiled.

Bucky gives you a soft peck on your lips and rests his hand on your pregnant belly.

“I love you.” He says softly.

“I love you too.” You say just as softly.

When it came to chores around the house, you had already started them and then Bucky walks into the room and tells you to go relax in the living room and he’ll do the chores. Bucky did the dishes after breakfast and now, you’re getting all the dirty laundry together to do the laundry. You were gathering the dirty clothes in yours and Bucky’s bedroom when he came into the room.

“Doll?” Bucky says.

“Yes, sweetie?” You asked.

“I told you that I’d do the laundry.” He says.

“I know, but I thought I’d gather all of the laundry in the laundry basket and take it to the laundry room for you.” You say sweetly.

Bucky smiles at how sweet you sound and walks over to you, resting his hands on your pregnant belly.

“I appreciate that, babydoll, but you didn’t have to do that. You can go relax and I’ll do everything. Ok?” He says softly.

“Ok.” You say.

Bucky gently pulls you back to him as you began to walk away from him. You giggled as he did so. He kisses you softly and then crouches down so he’s at eye level with your pregnant belly and pushes up your shirt just enough to kiss your pregnant belly, which always makes you smile.

“Keep mama company while I do chores, little one.” Bucky coos.

He kisses your belly once more before standing back up and kisses you again.

“I love you, doll.” He says softly.

“I love you too, honey.” You say softly.

Bucky was definitely there for you at times when you felt insecure throughout your pregnancy. Those insecurities didn’t start until your clothes didn’t fit you like they used to. You noticed that your shirt didn’t cover your pregnant belly all the way. You kept trying to tug it down, but your belly still showed. Your eyes teared up and a small whimper left your lips. You went to the living room where Bucky was reading a book on what to expect throughout your pregnancy.

“I have a problem.” You pouted.

Bucky looks over at you. He saw that your clothes down fit anymore, but that’s not the only thing he saw. He also saw how visible your pregnant belly is now. He puts the book down and reaches his hand out to you, guiding you over to him. He places both of his hands on the sides of your pregnant belly.

“You’re carrying our baby, doll. Don’t think you’re any less beautiful. You’re still as beautiful as you were when we got married.” Bucky says softly.

“I know you’re trying to be sweet, but it doesn’t help with my insecurities that my clothes don’t fit anymore.” You say.

“You have absolutely nothing to be insecure about, babydoll. Don’t let those insecurities bother you for another second. I’ll buy you maternity clothes. Till then, just keep thinking about you carrying our baby girl.” He says sweetly.

And just like that, your insecurities faded away.

“What makes you think we’re having a girl?” You curiously asked.

“I have a feeling that our baby is a girl.” He says.

“You don’t want a boy?” You asked.

“I wouldn’t mind a boy. Just as long as he or she is healthy, I’m fine with either.” He says.

“Me too.” You smiled.

Bucky moves your shirt up above your pregnant belly and covers your belly in kisses. Your smile grew even wider. You played with his hair as he did so. Then he gently guides you to sit down on the couch. He laid down with his head on your lap so he can talk to the baby.

“How are you doing in there, little one?” Bucky asks softly.

You smiled as you listened to Bucky talk to the baby. He told the baby every story he could think of. You thought it was the sweetest thing ever. You played with his hair again as he talked to the baby.

“I love both of you.” Bucky says softly.

“We love you too, honey.” You say just as softly.

Your next doctors appointment is the one you and Bucky have been looking forward to, because this is the appointment where you and him find out if you’re having a boy or a girl. Bucky is still going with his feeling of you having a girl, but like he said, just as long as the baby is healthy, he’s fine with either. So are you. Both of you were unable to contain yours and his excitement.

“Do you guys want to know the gender of your baby?” Your doctor asks.

“We want to know.” You say.

“Ok. Let’s find out if you’re having a baby boy or a baby girl.” She says.

Bucky held your hand like he always does at these doctors appointments. Your doctor paid close attention to the ultrasound monitor to figure out if you’re having a boy or a girl. The silence was killing you and Bucky. Then she finally found out what you’re having.

“Congratulations, Mr. and Mrs. Barnes! You’re having a baby girl!” Your doctor tells you and Bucky.

“A baby girl?” Bucky asks, making sure he heard her right.

“Yes.” She confirms.

“This is incredible! We’re having a girl!” He exclaims happily.

Yours and Bucky’s eyes filled with happy tears and he kisses you passionately. Your doctor printed out the ultrasound pictures and gave them to you. When you and Bucky got to the car, you and him sat in there for a moment.

“Can I tell you something?” You asked.

“Of course, doll. You can tell me anything.” Bucky says.

“I always imagined you would be a girl dad.” You say.

“You really imagined that?” He asks.

“Yes and now, it’s come true for us.” You say.

“It’s like a dream come true.” He smiles.

“It is.” You smiled.

“Can I tell you something now?” He asks.

“Of course, sweetheart.” You say.

“I just fell even more in love with you.” He says.

You smiled widely when he said that. Bucky leans over the center console to kiss you softly and sweetly. He put his hand on your pregnant belly.

“I want both of you to know that I’m going to do everything I can to protect you guys.” He vows softly.

That made your eyes tear up. His words are always so sweet. You put your hand on top of his.

“I love you, Buck.” You say softly.

“I love you too, babydoll.” He says softly.

Bucky leans down just enough to kiss your pregnant belly over your shirt.

“We love you too, baby girl.” He says softly.

Bucky’s love grows more and more for you and yours and his daughter everyday. You and yours and his baby girl are the two most important things in his life. He’s going to cherish both of you forever. He wouldn’t change it for the world either.

-Bucky’s Doll

[mickimoo1409]

Overdue

Pairing - Bucky Barnes x Reader

Summary - You and Bucky finally cross that line from friends to something more.

Warnings - Smut, kissing, dry humping, premature ejaculation? 18+ Only! My warnings are not extensive so enter at your own risk.

Word Count - <800

"Oh god baby, you're gonna have to stop." Bucky rasped as you ground yourself down on his lap.

You were still fully clothed, both of you caught up in the moment the second your lips pressed against each other's for the first time.

The pining had gone on too long, building up into something uncontrollably feral and tonight both of your resolves had snapped.

The problem with that kind of gut wrenching tension that burns in your very core like an active volcano, is that within minutes of your covered cunt making contact with his rock hard cock hidden beneath his dark jeans, he was ready to bust.

He inwardly cursed himself for having the restraint of a prepubescent teenager before finding the courage to ask you to stop, to slow down so that he didn't disappoint you after all this time. He should have known that you would never see it that way, you weren't like that.

"You okay?" You asked, with worry laced between your brows as you stopped your movements and pulled back to search his face.

"Yeah I'm fine. This is great, really." He replied with a hitch in his throat, tightening his palms against your hips in fear you would just jump off him and leave, "I just...fuck...you feel too good sweetheart...I don't think I'll last if you keep moving on me like that."

"That's so hot." You breathed as you stared back at him, watching his features change from worry to amusement in mere seconds.

"Hot? Sweetheart I'm about to bust in my jeans without getting my cock anywhere near you and you think that's hot?" He said in amusement, lip twitching at the corner as you nodded with a wide grin.

"Do I think it's hot..." You breathed, dipping back down to suck on his ear love, hearing him groan low in his chest, hips bucking up into you involuntarily, "That you're so attracted to me, that just me sitting on you can make you cum."

He inhaled a deep breath, voice catching in his throat as you began grinding your core against him once more, placing kisses along his stubbled jaw and neck before nibbling at the skin.

"Fuck baby." Bucky groaned, feeling his cock twitch under you, the pressure of your body on his pushing him closer and closer to the edge.

"It's okay Bucky," You moaned into his neck, feeling arousal pool in your panties from his desperation and the feel of his body against yours, "Let me make you feel good."

"God, you are baby. Feels so good." He groaned, tilting his hips up to meet your pelvis once more and making you let out an involuntary pleasurable gasp at the contact.

You pulled back, your own eyes flicking between his deep blue orbs as his mouth hung agape, small groans slipping from between the flesh as you moved your body over his, pushing him closer and closer to the edge.

"You're mine now, you know that right." Bucky whispered up at you, adoration filling his gaze.

"All yours bucky, I've always been yours." You whimpered.

He slipped one hand up your spine until it rested between your shoulders and he pushed your body into his, pressing his lips against yours with a satisfied hum.

His groans got louder in your mouth, hips getting more desperate as your tongue melded to his and you let out your own mewls and whimpers, clutching desperately at his shoulders to make sure this was real, this was finally happening.

Bucky gasped, hands twitching were they splayed and head pulling back to stare in your eyes as his cock juddered, spilling warm ropes of cum into his underwear.

You worked him through it, pressing soft kisses to his cheek, jaw and lips while he came down from his high, before you finally stilled and he pulled you against him, cuddling you against his chest.

You sighed against him with a soft smile, burying your face into the crook of his neck, feeling his chest move up and down as his breathing steadied.

"Fuck." He murmured, pressing his lips to your forehead, "That was..."

"Long overdue." You whispered happily.

"I owe you one now sweetheart." He promised with a smirk, "Fuck I owe you as many orgasms as you can handle."

You giggled against him, feeling his lips curve into a wide smile against your skin before they pursed and pressed a long drawn out kiss there.

His palms rubbed the length of your back, body's fitting together like they always should have.

"We've got all the time in the world." He whispered, pressing another kiss to your scalp, "Always gonna be yours sweetheart, always."

Everything tag - @late-to-the-party-81

@the-wandering-wonder @rnurse-kole @chemtrails-club @marvelgurl

SS Tag - @buckysdecaflove

Bucky - @wickedfun9

[bucksangel]

run little bunny

pairing: softdark!ceo!bucky x naive!assistant!reader

word count: 8.6k

summary: Being John Walker’s assistant is hard; he’s mean, disrespectful, misogynistic, the whole nine yards. On top of that, he hardly pays you fairly. So, when you’re fired for a mistake you’re sure wasn’t your fault, you’re at risk of being kicked out by your rude roommates. Luckily for you, James Barnes, a wildly successful CEO, has found his way into your life. And he’s going to take such good care of you.

warnings: where do i even start, 18+, minors DNI and i fucking mean it, mild coercion, some of it could be interpreted as stalking, fingering, unprotected p in v sex, sir kink, oral (f receiving), housewife kink, breeding kink, pet names (bunny, darling), dirty talk, dom!bucky and sub!reader, choking, squirting, basically just absolute filth, a little hurt-comfort, reader’s roommates are awful and mean, not john walker friendly but when am i ever

a/n: so this was supposed to just be some quick smut but as always i went overboard, so please enjoy! likes and comments are appreciated, reblogs are even better!

tip jar | main masterlist | ao3 | run little bunny masterlist

Your hands are shaking slightly, your heartbeat races with anxiety, and your leg bounces rapidly. Today is an important day after all, and your boss has made it clear that if you mess up in any way then he’d have to rethink your employment. That sent dread flooding through your body, so you’ve been preparing yourself for the last week to make sure everything for the meeting is perfect.

And, on the technical side, everything is immaculate - mostly due to you staying up until almost midnight each night to polish the presentation. You thought everything was done properly, but when you’d walked into the building that morning your boss was holed up in his office finishing up his portion of the work, so you’d decided to simply email him to let him know that you had arrived.

Everything was perfect. But when you get into the meeting room, your boss’ eyes go wide, anger clouding them while he scowls. You quickly make your way to his side, only for him to bark out a command for you to grab water for his incoming guests. Placing your notebook on the table, you turn to scurry off to the side to grab the glasses, but you’re stopped when your boss grabs your arm harshly.

“Do you have a change of clothes?”

“Um… Um, I-“ Your boss raises an eyebrow, and you feel like you might throw up from the sudden anxiety. “No, sir.”

He scoffs, muttering under his breath something about looking “trashy,” before releasing you and allowing you to go to the minibar.

Your arm stings, no doubt sporting a red mark because of how harsh the grip was. You’re also confused because you thought the floral dress you’d chosen was pretty. Sure, it may not be high class, but your boss has never had a problem with it before, but you’re assuming that he’s on edge due to who he’s meeting with.

James Barnes; the most powerful and successful CEO in the entire country. You haven’t met him personally, but from what you hear you know that he’s not someone you want to upset. According to the hushed whispers around the office, he stands at a towering 6’6, tattoos cover his arms and hands, and if he frowns then you better move out of the way.

Would Mr. Barnes be upset with your attire?

You desperately hope not, because you need this job. While you can barely make your rent and utilities, you don’t have any other job lined up, and you’re way too scared to ask for a raise from a man who so clearly disrespects you. For right now, though, you’re stuck.

The oak doors open, and one of the office assistants steps off to the side while holding the door open for several men to walk in. You hear him before you see him. You’ve never heard his voice, but the commanding tone he uses when he addresses your boss lets you know that it must be him.

“Hello, Mr. Walker,” Mr. Barnes greets him, and you can hear your boss stand and greet him as well.

You’re trying your hardest to keep calm while you walk toward the table with a platter holding several glasses of water. You do your best to place them in front of the men without showing how nervous you are.

But when you get to Mr. Barnes, you nearly spill the drink all over the table once you get a whiff of his clearly expensive cologne. Oh, how you’d love to be surrounded by that scent, the woodsy smell almost intimidates you but you’re unsure as to why you don’t mind.

You’ve never done anything even remotely sexual with a man, you’re far too awkward and anxious in a way that isn’t too appealing to many, but for a very brief moment, you wonder what he looks like underneath the black three-piece suit — the prominent veins on his hands insinuates that the rest of his body is probably just as toned. But you’re immediately snapped out of your thoughts by your boss’ harsh voice calling your name.

“Aren’t you going to greet our guests?”

You breathe in sharply, heat flooding your face as you stumble your way through an apology and a polite “Hello, Mr. Barnes.”

You’re about to leave his side when he reaches out to grasp your hand — surprisingly gentle for such a powerful man. With a slight jump, you glance over to your boss who’s staring at you as though you’re becoming a nuisance and should quickly get back to your chair beside his. But you can’t, both because of Mr. Barnes’ hold and the fact that when you look back at the man in front of you his ocean-blue eyes pull you in, and you’re unable to break your gaze.

“And who might you be, darling?” His eyes twinkle with mischief but you’re too blind to see it, you’re too flustered to really focus.

“Oh, you don’t need to worry about her, she’s just –”

“I wasn’t asking you,” Mr. Barnes snaps, briefly glancing at your boss and not bothering to hide his smirk when he almost visibly cowers. “Now, darling,” he continues, rubbing the back of your hand with his thumb. “What’s your name?”

You nearly squeak, having to force yourself to tell him your name before he gets upset with your lack of answer.

Mr. Barnes hums, then brings your hand up so he can place a delicate kiss on your knuckles. “A pretty name for a pretty girl.”

You flounder for a moment, unsure as to what to make of the compliment. You don’t have much time to overthink it because this meeting has a time limit and you’re sure your boss would prefer to get this over with.

“Th-Thank you, sir.” You’re not sure why, but your voice is breathy because something about that word — sir — just feels right for him, though you’re not sure what it means.

“So polite,” He mumbles to himself, and his eyes seem to grow darker. Finally, he lets you go, shooting you a wink and smirking to himself when you scurry off to sit next to your boss.

The presentation went relatively smoothly — thank God. You don’t know what you would have done if anything went wrong. In fact, Mr. Barnes seemed extremely invested in what you had to say, catching your gaze several times and causing you to stumble over your words a few times, only for your boss to clear his throat and glare at you. Eventually, Mr. Barnes throws him his own glare, silently telling him to shut up, to which your boss finally does.

Once the meeting was declared to be over, you were quick to close your notebook and tuck your pen behind your ear, then you went around the table and started collecting the now-empty glasses. As you’re running around the room trying to clean up, you can feel a powerful gaze boring holes into your body, but you try not to pay it any mind. It’s probably just your boss anyway.

But when you turn away from the desk to finally leave, you bump into Mr. Barnes, your body nearly slamming into his very sturdy chest. His hands shoot to your hips almost immediately, helping to steady yourself.

The warmth of his body pulls you in, but that might also be because Mr. Barnes is literally bringing you closer to his chest by the hold he has on your hips. And that’s when you realize that your hands are clutching his shoulders, but you can’t find it in you to let go.

“What’s the rush?” He asks playfully, his upper lip quirking up in a smirk. “You’re running around like a little bunny.”

“Oh, oh I’m sorry, Mr. Barnes.” You’re not sure why you’re apologizing, you recognize that he’s just teasing, but something in you doesn’t want to disappoint him. 

“Mr. Barnes.” He hums, his eyes briefly glancing down to your lips. “I like it when you call me that.”

Now you’re really flustered, your face heats up and you have to do everything in your power not to faint — the way his voice deepens is doing something to you and you don’t know how to handle it.

“I’d like it a lot more if you called me James, though. Can you do that for me, bunny?” 

“Ye-Yes, James.” You might have been embarrassed about how quick you were to answer him, but the way he closes his eyes and tightens the hold he has on your body you’re thinking it was the right decision.

Mr. Barnes — James — opens his mouth again, but is interrupted by the door being opened by one of the office assistants, whose eyes immediately go wide in shock. It seems to take a second for her to gather her bearings, but she recovers soon enough.

“Mr. Walker is requesting you,” She tells you, glancing over at James and giving him a nervous smile. “He says you have to file all of the paperwork for the meeting.”

You sigh, you’re tired of having to do everything for your boss only for him to take credit ninety percent of the time. But, it’s what you’re paid to do, so you suck it up. 

Looking back to James, you give him a shy smile, reluctantly removing your hands from his shoulders. 

“Um, I guess I should go, James.” You’re a little sad, and you don’t quite know why having to leave him and go back to your duties makes you so anxious. It could be because Mr. Walker is mean, or maybe because James makes you feel safe. In reality, it’s probably a mixture of both.

“I guess you should,” He murmurs, removing one of his large hands from your waist so he can cup the back of your neck and pull you closer, only for him to press a lingering kiss on your forehead.

And absolutely no one can blame you for the quiet whimper that leaves your lips, even though you are surprised by your reaction. It doesn’t matter though, because he finally moves back, letting go of you and reaching into the pocket on the inside of his suit jacket so he can pull out what looks like a business card.

“Here,” James says, handing it to you. “In case you ever want to talk, you’re always free to call me.”

“What would we talk about?” Your confusion causes James to chuckle, and he seems amused by your naivety.

“Whatever you want, Bunny. Whether you just want to talk about nonsense or vent about your boss. Doesn’t matter to me as long as I get to hear your beautiful voice.”

With that, he gives you a wink, then turns to the door and leaves, though he does glance back at you. With one final smile, he leaves, and you’re left with a million racing thoughts while standing in the middle of the meeting room.

It took three days for you to finally reach out to James. As soon as you got home that night you ran to your bedroom and added his number to your phone, going so far as to put his business card in your bedside table drawer so you wouldn’t lose it. It just took a little time to gain the courage to actually contact him. After all, what if he was just being friendly? You’ve never met anyone quite like him, so it’s hard to read into his actions.

But today had gone horribly. The café you frequent before work was so busy that you didn’t have time to grab your coffee without being extremely late, the bistro you were demanded to pick up lunch from was closed — and while it wasn’t your fault, Mr. Walker certainly seemed to think it was. Your workload was piled high and by the end of the day, you were on the verge of crying due to the stress and mean comments thrown at you by your boss.

You need a shoulder to lean on and, unfortunately for you, you don’t have anyone else to go to. You’re pretty sure your roommates hate you and only let you live with them because they haven’t found a new roommate yet, you don’t have siblings and your parents are states away, and you have maybe a few friends, but even then the communication is scarce.

You need a shoulder to lean on, and James offered his, so you finally decided to pull up his contact and start a new message. It takes several minutes to figure out what to say, but you eventually settle on something simple.

Hi, James. I don’t know if you remember me, but I’m Mr. Walker’s assistant. You gave me your number in case I ever wanted to talk.

You hit send and stare down at your phone anxiously as you wait for a reply. A minute goes by, then two, suddenly five, and then you’re starting to regret texting him, what if he doesn’t remember you? What if he’s busy? What if – 

Your phone starts ringing, James’ name popping up on the screen and taunting you — almost commanding you to answer.

“Hello?”

“Good evening, bunny,” James says softly, and if you press your ear close enough to your phone you could pretend that he’s right next to you.

“Hi, James. I hope I’m not disturbing you.” Your voice is soft and timid, you’d hate to disrupt anything he’s doing.

“Don’t be silly, bunny,” He says, his smile evident in his tone. “I always have time for you.”

“Oh, um. Thank you, sir.” It’s almost indescribable, but you can just make out the soft curse James lets out, followed by some shuffling.

“So, what did you want to talk about?”

You’re a little apprehensive, but with James’ gentle encouragement, you’re able to get everything off your chest, complaining about your day and everything that went wrong. Each word spoken feels like weights lifting off of your shoulders, allowing you to breathe easier every time James hums. He doesn’t interrupt you, which you greatly appreciate, and by the time you’re done, you fall backward onto your bed, relieved.

“I’m sorry you had such a bad day, bunny,” James coos with his smooth-as-honey voice, filling your body with warmth and comfort. “A pretty girl like you doesn’t deserve to be treated like that.” That comment floods your face with heat and you shuffle up the bed to lean against the headboard.

“Oh, I - thank you, sir.” There it is again, sir. James exhales slowly as though he’s trying to control himself from doing something he shouldn’t, and part of you is momentarily worried that you’ve upset him somehow. You don’t want to disappoint him.

“What can I do to help?”

What can he do to help? You’re not quite sure, you’re not sad, and you’re not angry, but you would be lying if you said you didn’t need at least a hug right now. But, it would be too imposing to ask, right? There’s no way he would be willing to come over – that is, if your roommates would even allow him over. And he certainly wouldn’t invite a stranger into his house. So, you lie to him.

“Oh – Oh, no, James, I don’t – you don’t have to – it’s fine –”

“Bunny.”

Your mouth promptly closes, taking a deep breath through your nose and exhaling slowly.

“Sorry, James.”

“Don’t be sorry, bunny.” There’s some shuffling in the background as he talks and you can’t help but sigh at how sincere his voice is. “Now, what can I do to help?” And before you can even open your mouth he’s talking again, “Don’t say nothing, because I know there’s something you want.”

You’re silent for a moment, stewing over how to tell him. But, he’ll probably just be empathetic and say something along the lines of ‘I’d hug you if I were there right now’. So, you decide to just spit it out.

“I guess I just want… I just need a hug, I think,” You sigh, feeling a sudden sense of loneliness. It’s hard not having anyone to talk to, to be isolated even from the people you live with, to be put down time and time again, and not have anyone to support you.

“Where are you?” James asks, and you hear some more shuffling in the background, followed by the jingling of what sounds like keys.

“I’m at my apartment,” You say, confused. He couldn’t possibly be coming over, could he?

“Send me your address and I’ll come pick you up, we’ll go out for ice cream,” James says decisively, and you can tell he doesn’t want any protesting. “Bunny,” He says when you don’t say anything. “You need cheering up and I’m here to do just that. Please send me your address.” He speaks gently but once again, he doesn’t seem to want you to argue against it.

“O-Okay, I will.”

“Good, I’ll see you soon, bunny.” When you bid him goodbye, he hangs up, and you’re quick to send him your address, giving him instructions to text you when he arrives so you can meet him out front of the building.

During the next twenty or so minutes you’re practically running around your room trying to make yourself look presentable. You cried all of your makeup off so you opt to just wash the rest of it off, and then you pull your hair back and away from your face. It takes a bit to decide what to wear, after all this is just a friend taking another friend to get ice cream, but this is also James Barnes; he has more wealth than you could possibly imagine. You want to impress him and appear grateful for his friendliness, and looking at least half-decent would achieve that.

Finally, someone knocks on your door, yelling, “Someone’s here for you!”

With a rush of excitement, you grab your phone and wallet and slip on your shoes, then make your way out of your room to the front door where another roommate is standing in front of it, leaning against the frame and giggling at the person.

James.

He looks bored, almost like he’s trying to appear interested but can’t quite muster up the energy to do so. When you approach, he lifts his head, a wide smile crossing his face.

“There’s my little bunny,” He says confidently, completely ignoring your annoyed roommate. “Come on, let’s get you cheered up.”

With that you walk to him, timidly accepting his outstretched hand and letting him gently tug you into the hallway. When you turn around to tell your roommate that you’ll be back later you can’t even get a word out before you see her glaring at you and shutting the door — the click of the lock is audible through the empty hallway.

“Are they always like that?” James asks with a tone that conveys concern.

“Like what?” You know what he’s talking about, but you hate acknowledging it.

“Rude and disrespectful.” He is so blunt that it causes you to look down in embarrassment to avoid his intense gaze.

Yes, you want to say, they’re awful. You want to shout from the rooftops that your roommates are horrible to you, but you’re just too scared to do it.

“Oh – Oh, no, they’re just…” You trail off, peeking up at James to see the disbelief in his eyes. When you look down again, he brings up one of his hands to cup your cheek and guide your head up so you can look at him head-on.

“You don’t need to lie to me, bunny. I want you to trust me.” James sighs, leaning forward and placing a small kiss on your forehead. “Come on,” He squeezes your hand, smiling softly at you as he starts walking you out of the building and to his car.

It doesn’t take long to get to the ice cream shop, only a five-minute drive, and when you get there James keeps the car locked as he gets out so he can circle around to your side and open your door for you.

“Th-Thank you,” You say as you put your hand in James’ outstretched one, letting him guide you out of the car. He keeps his hold on your hand as you walk into the shop, going so far as to thread your fingers together while you wait in line.

The image of your hand encompassed by James’ large tattooed one has your tummy fluttering with butterflies. But, you must have been staring for a little too long because you’re broken out of your trance by James gently squeezing your hand.

“Is this okay, bunny?”

“Yes!” Heat floods your face as soon as you say it, feeling embarrassed by how quick you were to answer. “I, I mean. Um… Yes, it’s okay.”

James smirks at you, clearly enjoying how flustered you are. But, before you can stew in your shame, the man behind the counter says, “Next!”

You walk up to the counter, letting James order before giving yours. And when it’s time to pay, James doesn’t even drop your hand while he fishes his wallet out of his pocket and takes out his card. Your tummy flutters once again.

“Come, bunny.”

With your desserts now in hand, James leads you to a corner booth, only letting go of your hand so you can scoot in. He sits across from you, looking at you with what can only be described as thinly veiled hunger. It’s not off-putting, you just don’t know what it means.

“So, um…” You trail off looking down at your bowl of ice cream, fiddling with the spoon they gave you.

“You don’t need to be nervous, bunny,” James coos, reaching over and placing his hand palm up on the table, and you’re helpless but to take it, practically aching to feel his warmth again. “Now, other than everything that happened today, how have you been?”

It’s surprisingly easy to fall into a pleasant conversation with him, he asks questions and lets you finish talking before adding his own input, and he doesn’t break eye contact. It feels like he’s really listening to what you’re saying, and it’s almost freeing to have someone in your corner, someone you can trust and depend on.

What feels like far too soon, though has probably been several hours due to how dark it is outside, the man behind the counter comes to your table to tell you that they’re closing soon, and you can’t help but be sad. You’re enjoying James’ company far more than you probably should since you’ve only known him for a handful of days. It almost seems like you’ve known him your whole life.

“Well, bunny. I guess it’s time to go,” James says remorsefully, getting up out of the booth and reaching out his hand to help you out of the booth as well. He keeps holding your hand while you walk out of the door — making sure to throw away your trash on the way out.

James insists on opening the car door for you again — ever the gentleman. There’s a comfortable silence on the drive back to your apartment, your stomach swirling the entire time because James refuses to drop your hand. But when you get to your apartment building, a small amount of anxiety settles inside you, and you’re desperately hoping your roommates are asleep because you don’t feel like dealing with them after you’ve had such a good evening.

The silence is a little more tense while you ride the elevator up to your floor, but you’re grounded by James’ touch. It’s not until you get to your front door that you really look at him, staring into his twinkling eyes. And when he smiles, it settles your nerves.

“I guess this is the end of our night, bunny,” He says, squeezing your hand one last time before dropping it. Before you can mourn the loss of his touch he’s wrapping you in his arms and pulling you close to his chest, and you desperately hope he doesn’t hear the squeak you let out. You wrap your arms around his waist, letting James tuck your face into his neck while he holds you close.

“I had a wonderful time tonight,” James murmurs, pressing a lingering kiss on your forehead.

“Me too,” You say softly, breathing in and inhaling his comforting scent. “Thank you for cheering me up.”

“Of course, bunny. I’m always here for you.” Then, James pulls his head back so he can look into your eyes. “Always.”

You can’t help but smile. His gaze is hypnotizing, pulling you in and almost refusing to let you go.

“Thank you, James,” You breathe out, and one last time, James squeezes you and kisses your forehead, then steps back.

“I’ll talk to you soon, bunny?” James asks, smiling wide.

“Y–Yeah, I’ll text you. Or you can text me. Or call, that’s–that’s fine too.” Heat floods your face in embarrassment, but you don’t feel too bad about it because James only smiles wider, nodding once.

“I will.”

“Goodnight, James.” With that, you turn and unlock your door, turning around to look at James one last time as you shut the door.

“Goodnight bunny, I hope you have dreams as sweet as you are.” James winks, and you swear you can hear him chuckle when you squeak out an “o-okay,” and shut the door.

And maybe James is some kind of wizard because you have the best night of sleep you’ve had in a while.

For the next few weeks you and James text almost every day, and talk on the phone every couple of days. You’ve met up with him a few times as well, accepting his invitations to lunch or coffee. Each outing would last for several hours, too enraptured by his… everything to be the one to suggest the night should end. You’ve come to trust him, you know with a possibly concerning amount of certainty that James would do everything possible to keep you happy and safe.

Roughly a month and a half after meeting James, you’re sitting on your bed in the same position you were in when you first called him crying. Unlike last time, though, you don’t hesitate to call him. He’s told you time and time again that it doesn’t even matter if he’s in a meeting, he’ll always make time for you. You just hope that’s true.

He picks up almost immediately.

“Hello, bunny,” James says with the same soft tone he always uses when talking to you.

“H-hi, James,” You manage to say, before breaking out into sobs. You’re nearly hyperventilating, trying and failing to catch your breath between hiccups, and it takes a few minutes to calm down enough to hear rustling in the background on James’ end.

“Are you at home?” He asks with the utmost concern.

“Ye-Yes.”

“Stay there,” He says, using what you’ve deemed his CEO voice. “I’m coming to get you.”

“Ja–”

“Bunny.”

You sigh, knowing you can’t change his mind – not that you really want him to. You could really benefit from a hug right about now and James always provides the best ones.

“Can you at least stay on the phone with me?” Your voice is small, still sniffling every few words. You don’t think you could handle being alone with your own thoughts right now.

“Of course. You know I’ll do anything for you.”

It takes James twenty minutes to get to you, and he talks to you the whole time, just menial things to get your mind off of your sadness. When he lets you know that he’s at your apartment, you don’t even wait for him to tell you he’s coming up, you simply grab your jacket and slip on your shoes, then run to the front door without so much as a word to your roommates in the living room.

“James!” Upon seeing the man himself standing next to his car, you fling yourself into his arms, taking deep breaths to prevent yourself from crying in public. “Thank you for coming.”

“Bunny, how many times do I have to tell you that I’ll do whatever it takes to keep a smile on your pretty face?” James’ tone is teasing, but you know he’s serious if his stern and concerned gaze is anything to go by.

You nod, blinking back tears. It’s so nice to have a friend like James Barnes; kind, chivalrous, attentive. With the way he acts sometimes, you’d almost think he’s interested in more than friendship, but you always shake that thought off. He’s too handsome and wealthy to date some random personal assistant who’s barely able to make her rent.

“Come on, bunny,” James moves back but keeps an arm wrapped around your waist, leading you to his car and helping you in. Like always, he waits for you to sit so he can strap you in your seatbelt, pressing a quick kiss to your forehead before shutting the door then running around to the driver's seat.

This time, instead of taking a left at the light at the end of your block, he keeps going forward, taking turns until you’re not exactly sure where you are.

“Um, where are we going?”

“My house,” James says casually, briefly glancing at you so he can give you that ever-soft smile.

“But, isn’t your house only twenty minutes away?” You’re confused, and a little curious as to what he’s talking about.

“I only stay there when I have meetings in the city. I have a house a little further out where I live most of the time. It’s a little more lived-in, so I want to bring you there where you’ll feel a little more…” James pauses for a moment, glancing at you again. “At home.” His explanation makes sense in your brain, quickly squashing any nerves that you had. He’s rich, so of course he’d have multiple houses.

It’s almost an hour long drive to get to his house. Well, house feels like an inappropriate term for what it actually is. It’s more like a mansion, standing tall at three stories, a long driveway with trees lining either side of the road, and a luscious garden surrounding the property.

James helps you out of the car and guides you up the steps to the front door, where he unlocks it and lets you step inside. The moment you pass through the threshold your jaw nearly drops to the floor; a large chandelier hangs from the ceiling right when you step in and beautiful artwork adorns the walls. The open floor plan gives you a good view of the living room and kitchen from your vantage point, and you can’t wait to sink into the luxurious and almost comically large couch in front of the TV.

“Can I get you anything to drink?” James urges you further in, bringing you to the living room.

“Um, just water is fine.” You look up at him, smiling shyly and nearly tripping when he smiles back.

“I’ll be right back,” James says, watching as you sit and sink into the plush couch. “Make yourself at home.” The look in his eyes when he says it sparks something inside you, something warm and fuzzy. Thinking of James’ house as your home makes your tummy flutter, but you don’t understand why.

God, you need to get it together.

You’re left alone for a moment, and everything is quiet except for the fridge opening and the glasses clinking. James’ absence allows you a moment to breathe properly, being with him always leaves you flustered, though you can’t deny that some part of you likes it. You like his commanding nature, how deep his voice gets when he talks passionately about something, how warm his embrace is when he holds you for what might be a little too long, squeezing you like he doesn’t want to let you go.

“Here you go, bunny.” Suddenly, a glass of water appears in front of you, and you take it with a gracious smile and a small “thank you.”

“So,” He says, sitting next to you — really close — and throwing his arm over your shoulders, practically pulling you into his lap. “Do you want to tell me what’s wrong?”

Tears immediately spring to your eyes, suddenly remembering how horrible today was. You force yourself to take a couple of sips of your glass but your hand starts shaking enough to where James takes your glass and sets it on the coffee table in front of you.

“Bunny—“

His soft voice causes you to start crying, throwing yourself into his chest and burying your face in his neck as you sob out your troubles. James’ hand is warm on your back, rubbing it soothingly and squeezing you close to him. This time, he actually pulls you in his lap, you’re grasping the front of his sweater while he maneuvers your body so you’re straddling his thighs, and you can’t help but scoot closer so you’re sitting on him properly with your body flush against his.

A few minutes of crying later and your tears have finally slowed, your sobs deforming into hiccups until you calm down enough to hear James cooing into your ear, whispering sweet nothings. When you finally catch your breath, you pull back, staring up at James with wide eyes and a pout.

“I-I… I was fired! Fired! And I don’t know what I’m going to do! Mr. Walker just tossed me to the side because a document went missing and he blamed me, and now I’m jobless and my roommates are definitely going to kick me out because I can barely make my rent as it is. What am I going to do?”

James sighs, rubbing one hand up and down your back and keeping his other on your waist, though they manage to sneak up your shirt a little without your notice.

“I’m sorry, bunny,” He starts, giving you a comforting smile. “It’s awful that happened to you, and it’s not your fault, so don’t go blaming yourself like I know you want to.”

Your face goes warm with embarrassment. How is he able to read you so easily?

“And as far as your living situation, you’ll move in with me.”

“James!” Your eyebrows furrow, your head automatically shaking. “No, no I can’t do that to you. I don’t have a job anymore and I definitely can’t afford to pay you rent, I-I can’t burden you like that.” Even though it hurts to say it, you want to be honest with him. Because how on Earth are you supposed to pay him back for this?

“You’re not a burden.” You’re surprised by his angry tone, and his eyes darken as though he’s challenging you to say otherwise. “You’ll never be a burden on me, bunny. I’m offering you this, I don’t want you to pay me.”

As though he can sense your hesitation, he gives you a playful smirk.

“But if you really want to help, how about you do the cooking and cleaning? I don’t always get a good home-cooked meal, and it’d be nice to come back from work to see you in a cute little apron.”

This makes you giggle, a weight lifting off your shoulders when you nod timidly. “I-I can do that. I’ll do anything.”

And while you had pure intentions with that statement, James takes it differently, his eyes darkening even further as he nibbles at his bottom lip.

“Anything?” He smirks wider when you nod eagerly because that’s what you are. Always eager to please — especially please James.

“Yes, anything!”

James hums, seemingly thinking something over, before sliding one of his hands up the back of your shirt.

“How about you give me a kiss? I haven’t had a good one in a while,” While he sounds like he’s teasing, his face shows he’s anything but.

He really wants you to kiss him. And, well, it’s not like you’re going to deny him, you’re too grateful for his generosity. Plus, you’d be insane to pass up such an opportunity, he’s handsome, kind, and makes you feel safe. So, with only a little hesitation, you lean down and press your lips against his in a simple peck, but before you can pull away James groans, placing one hand on the back of your head to keep you steady.

His lips practically attack yours, his tongue invading your mouth and taking what it wants – you. You don’t even know it but you’re whimpering almost immediately, opening your mouth and letting James consume you whole. He’s smiling against your lips, biting your bottom lip as he retreats for a moment so he can stare up into your eyes.

“You’re so beautiful, bunny,” James whispers reverently like he’s hypnotized. And he’s not the only one. Your brain is quickly going silent, your sole focus is on James and how good he’s making you feel.

“Really?”

“So beautiful, I’ve always thought so.” His confession makes you whine, he thinks you’re beautiful, this gorgeous man with the deepest blue eyes you’ve ever seen. Suddenly, James curses softly, grabbing your waist under your shirt, and that’s when you realize you’ve started subconsciously moving your hips against his.

“S-Sorry,” You mumble, though you’re not too sorry considering you can’t stop rolling down onto his lap, it feels too good.

“Don’t be.” James hums thoughtfully, leaning forward slightly and wrapping his arms around your waist. “Why don’t we go to my room? It’ll be more comfortable.”

You don’t even wait for him to finish before you start eagerly nodding your head, adjusting your legs as he stands so you can wrap them around his waist. He carries you to his room, smirking to himself the entire time because you can’t stop kissing and biting his neck in the hopes of leaving a mark, staking your claim. When you finally get there, James quickly shuts the door behind him and then drops you down onto the bed.

“Sir,” You whine when he doesn’t do anything, he’s only standing at the end of the bed, staring at you with eyes so dark with lust that you can’t see the blue of them.

“Don’t worry, bunny, I’ll take good care of you.” With that, he swiftly strips his shirt off and tosses it to the side, then undoes the button on his pants, slowly dragging down the zipper with a wide smirk at the haze in your eyes. “Do you want to help me?”

It takes a few moments for you to understand what he’s asking of you, but once you do you push yourself up, shuffling over to him until you’re sitting with your legs underneath your butt. For a moment you’re not sure what to do, you reach out for his pants but freeze mid-air because you just now realize that you don’t know what the fuck you’re doing. You’ve never been in this situation before, your sexual exploits consist of goodnight kisses on the few dates you’ve been on, and your vibrator in your nightstand that has been working overtime ever since you met James.

“I-I’m sorry,” You murmur, embarrassment flooding your features.

“Why are you sorry, bunny?” James’ voice is soft, soothing your worries.

“I… I don’t know what I’m doing. I’ve never… been with a man before.” Your hands fall to your lap at the same time you hang your head. What if you disappoint him? You don’t know what you’re doing and you’d hate to mess anything up.

“I know, bunny. It’s okay.” James lifts your chin with his fore and middle fingers, guiding you to look at him again. “I’ll teach you everything.” His voice dips lower, his bottom lip getting trapped between his teeth when you smile, relieved.

“Now, I’m going to take off my pants, but I want you to take off my boxers. Okay?”

“Yes, sir,” You say quickly, eyes dropping to his crotch as he begins pulling the denim down, down, down until it pools on the floor. He steps out of them, then steps in front of you with his arms hanging by his side. When he raises his eyebrow, nodding to his underwear, you reach out for him again, this time with only a small amount of hesitation. Your nerves are nearly off the charts, but knowing that James is going to guide you makes you feel better.

Your hands are shaking slightly when you pull them down, and absolutely no one can fault you for the loud gasp you let out when he’s finally bare because holy shit. Despite being relatively anxious and naive surrounding sex, you’ve watched your fair share of porn, and while the men in them did usually have big dicks, they seem small compared to James’.

You’re almost frightened, how the hell is that going to fit inside you? James chuckles, and you realize you probably said that aloud.

“Don’t worry, bunny. I’ll make it fit,” James groans, reaching down to grab the bottom of your shirt. “I’m going to take this off now, okay?” He tugs it up and over your head once you give your consent, tossing it to the side and cursing when he sees the light pink bra barely covering your breasts. James is biting his lip so hard you’re worried he might draw blood, but you don’t pay it any mind because he’s soon urging you to lay on your back with your legs dangling over the edge.

“Gonna take these off too.”

Giving him a shy smile and a nod, he hooks his fingers in the waistband of your sweatpants, glancing up at you one final time to make sure you’re okay before he surprises you by pulling them off of your legs in one swift movement. You’re tugged down the bed a little, a shocked gasp leaving your lips.

“Fucking angelic,” James murmurs, dropping to his knees and placing his large, rough hands on your knees. He smirks when he sees your matching light pink panties, already soaking wet at the crotch. You have to bite your lip to keep from whimpering when he pushes your legs wide apart, but you can’t stop yourself from squirming when he doesn’t do anything else.

“James,” You whine, high-pitched and needy.

“Sir,” He reminds you with a raised eyebrow as though he’s daring you to say his real name again. And just for good measure, he surprises you by lifting up one of his hands and swinging it down onto your clothed pussy in a harsh swat, causing you to let out a loud moan.

“Sir! I-I’m sorry, sir.”

“It’s okay, little bunny,” James coos as he runs his hands up the back of your thighs so he can push them up and out, letting him get a good look at where you need him most. “Are you going to let me eat your pretty pussy?”

Even though it’s phrased as a question, you know James isn’t going to take ‘no’ for an answer. It’s not like you even want to tell him ‘no’, you’re too desperate for something, anything.

“Y-Yes, sir. Please.” Your begging makes him groan, and he quickly dips forward so he’s not even an inch away from your core, inhaling deeply and cursing again.

With a quick kiss to your covered clit, he twists his fingers into the band of your panties and rips them into pieces, and you know you’ll have marks from it. But you want them, you want evidence of this night, and you’ll gladly take anything he gives you. And no sooner than your panties off do James dive in, inhaling once more before his tongue sneaks out and licks a long stripe from your hole to your clit.

It’s at that point that you know you’re well and truly fucked, because there’s no way you’re not going to become addicted to the feeling of his tongue dipping into your quivering hole, the way he wraps his lips around your clit and sucks it into his mouth, the way he groans into your pussy like there’s nowhere else he’d rather be.

And it doesn’t take long for your legs to start shaking, desperately trying to close around James’ head but not being able to due to his hands gripping your thighs and holding them still. The filthy groans he lets out are enough to make you cum alone, but then he attaches his lips to your clit again and gently bites down, forcing an obscene moan out of your mouth.

He lets you get used to the pleasure, switching between fucking his tongue deep inside you and flicking at your clit, and only when he decides you’re ready does he manage to slide his forefinger in your pussy all the way to the third knuckle.

“Sir!” You can’t help but yell. Yes, it stings, but it’s far outweighed by the pleasure of his tongue assaulting your pulsating nub.

He wastes no time in slowly sliding it in and out, wiggling it around until you whine loudly, letting him know he’s found that special spot. You’re too out of it to realize it but James is smiling, clearly smug at how he’s making you react. You wouldn’t care anyway, in fact, he deserves it. He’s making you feel too good, especially when he slips in his middle finger and spreads them.

“Oh god! Yes, fuck. Sir, yes,” You’re incoherent, blabbering nonsense because your brain is too foggy to form a coherent thought. James picks up the pace, wrapping his lips around your clit and sucking it as he thrusts his fingers directly at your g-spot.

“Sir! Sir, I-I’m…” As soon as he started, he stopped, pulling out his fingers and leaning back slightly with a wide grin. His chin is coated in your juices, and the gleam in his eyes shows you that you’re not going to be able to cum so easily.

“Not yet, bunny,” James says when you whine pathetically, trying to buck your hips up into his mouth but unable to do so because of his commanding grip now holding your waist. “I’m not letting you cum until I’m inside you.”

James then climbs onto the bed, guiding you upwards to lay your head against the plush pillows so he can lean over your body. With little preamble, he snakes his arms around your back to quickly unclasp your bra and allow your breasts to spill free.

“I can’t wait to watch these bounce,” James groans, palming one of them, twisting and pinching at your nipple. James just laughs when you hiss, because your soaked pussy is enough to tell him that you’re loving what he’s doing. 

“Bunny.” He says gruffly, and your eyes shoot up to meet his, though you can hardly see him because your vision is hazy, nothing matters except James. “Are you ready?”

You’re barely able to mumble ‘yes’, but you manage to do so, and James takes that as his cue to grasp the base of his cock and position it at your entrance. He places his other hand on your neck, lightly squeezing the sides to keep your eyes locked on his.

The pressure against your hole is immense, James telling you to breathe as he slowly pushes deeper. He stops about halfway through, giving you a moment for the pain to fade. He’s clearly having a hard time staying still but is cognizant enough to know you’re overwhelmed. It takes a few minutes of deep breathing before you finally nod, silently letting him know that he can move. And he does, pushing in all the way until his hips are flush with yours. Once again, he stills, leaning down to brush his lips over your cheeks and catch the tears spilling from the corners of your eyes.

“H-Hurts, sir,” You whimper out, forcing yourself to keep eye contact with him. And while your core is burning, James looks so damn proud that you’re taking him that it pushes away any discomfort.

“Do you want me to stop?”

“No!” Even though you’re in mild pain you’re pretty sure you’ll cry if he pulls out, you need everything he can give you. “Please, don’t stop.”

“Don’t worry, bunny,” James coos, then tightens his grip around your neck ever so slightly. “I’ll give you what you need.” And as though a switch was flipped, James pulls back, pausing for half a second before thrusting forward.

“Ahhh!” Your mouth drops open as you scream, your arms coming up to claw at James’ shoulders and back as he gives you all he has.

And he has a lot to give. He puts his back into fucking you, keeping one hand around your neck and using his other arm to pull your left leg over his shoulder. Sweat beads at your hairline, your eyes stinging with tears, your whole body lit on fire. At this moment, nothing matters except the delicious burn between your legs, the way your body is shoved further up the bed with each of James’ powerful thrusts until it gets to the point where he has to place the hand around your leg on the headboard to steady you.

“Fuck, bunny, you feel so good. You’re so good for me.” James can’t stop mumbling praises, and even though you can’t really hear them, you feel them. Your eyes don’t move from his, even as he glances down to where your bodies are joined. “Fuck, little bunny. Your pussy looks so good stuffed full of my cock, knew you’d take me so well.”

“S-Sir,” You whimper, bucking your hips up to meet his thrusts and digging your nails into his skin. But James doesn’t seem to mind if the way his whole body shudders and his hips slightly lose their rhythm is anything to go by.

“Are you gonna be a good little bunny and cum for me?” James moves his gaze back up to your face, chuckling when he sees how fucked-out you already are. Despite his hand still around your neck you manage to nod, little cries and whines escaping into the air every time James’ cock gets shoved against your cervix.

“Yeah, you are,” James continues, leaning over your body even more and shifting so the tip of his dick hits your spot with every thrust. “You’re going to squirt all over my cock so I can cum deep in your cunt. Gonna cum in you every day, keep you full of me, maybe even plug you up to make sure it sticks.”

You’re right there, your pleasure climbing higher and higher until you’re ready to fall off the edge. James’s next sentence sends you there.

“Fuck, bunny. You’re going to be the perfect little mommy to all the children I’m gonna give you.”

When you wake up, James will tell you about how you came so hard that you blacked out, squirting and gushing around his cock while he continued telling you how even more beautiful you’ll be when you’re pregnant, taking care of him and his home, how he knew you were the one for him from the moment he first saw you. Your things will already be moved into his house. New clothes chosen specifically for you will be hung up in his closet and the bathroom will be adjusted to fit your products. The kitchen is going to be filled with all the food you like. And your cat will be curled up in a miniature hammock in her very own room.

When you wake up, you’ll see how much thought James put into redecorating his home just for you.

And you’ll be too grateful for his kindness to question where he put your birth control.

main taglist: @lilyalone / @crazyunsexycool / @goldylions / @yeehawbrothers / @buckyssweetheart / @buckysprettybaby / @sushiseoks / @heytheredelulu / @somnorvos / @ozwriterchick / @pxgeturner / @gentlelimerence

bucky taglist: @justsebstan / @myfavbuckyfics

[erina00]

I need him

[mickimoo1409]

The Doctor Will See You Now

Pairing - Dark Steve Kemp x Naive/Innocent/Virgin Reader

Summary - You go to your doctor looking for advice, what you get is something else entirely.

Warnings - Extreme Dubcon! Manipulation, coercion, medical manipulation, fingering, dark! 18+ Only! My warnings are not extensive so enter at your own risk!

Word Count - 3k

After a lot of deliberation, you'd decided to brave a trip to the doctor's office, deciding you were ready to take a big step in your personal life.

Doctor Kemp had taken over your local doctors clinic a few years ago and you felt content under his care.

He was always friendly with you, making you feel at ease with your issues and you had confided in him about almost everything. You knew that today's conversation would only be okay because of him, despite how nervous you were.

You entered the clinic with a hammering heart and shaky palms, locating a seat as far away from anyone else as possible, after a quick check in with the receptionist. You were anxious as other patients stepped in and out of the double doors for their own appointments, biting at your nails and leg bouncing as you waited. 

When your name was finally called, you scampered through the doors and along the pristine white halls to Doctor Kemp's office, knocking quickly before entering, after hearing the sound of his soft voice calling you inside.

"Good morning." He smiled at you from his seat by his computer, "Take a seat."

You smiled back shyly, flopping down in your seat so quickly that you winced on impact and immediately flushed red in embarassment. 

Doctor Kemp looked back at you with a glint of amusement in his eyes, lips turned up into that charming smile you'd come to know all too well.

"Hi Doctor Kemp." You breathed shakily as you tried to compose yourself, "Thank you for seeing me."

You placed your palms in your lap, spine ridged and stiff while Steve relaxed back in his seat.

"What can I do for you today?" He asked, steepling his hands in front of his chest, with his elbows on his knees as he appraised you.

"I uhh...well..." You uttered, scratching nervously at your forehead, "It's kind of embarrassing..."

"It's okay, you know you can tell me." He smiled softly before letting out a light chuckle, "I don't bite."

 

"Okay well..." You sighed, glancing around the sterile room to avoid making eye contact for too long, "I uhh....I want to get some kind of birth control."

"Oh is that right?" Steve replied with a harsh underbite to his tone.

"Yeah," You continued, oblivious to his change in demeanor, "I just don't know what kind of one to get or whatever, I was wondering if you could help."

"Forgive me sweetie, but last time we spoke you informed me you were still a virgin." He said sternly, "Is that no longer the case?"

"Oh, uhh yeah I am." You said pressing your lips together, "I'm just...preparing I guess....trying to be safe."

"You got yourself a boyfriend now?" He grumbled with a raised brow, flattening his palms on his thighs to stop them clenching into fists.

"No, yeah." You mumbled, "Uhh I dunno. Kind of. It's new."

"And things have been heating up?" Steve pressed, "Has he touched you?"

His fingers twitched against his thigh and his jaw ticked in irritation, as he watched your face blush at the question.

"Nn..no. Not exactly." You mumbled, rubbing your hands together in your lap, "But he uhhh..he asked me to touch him..so I just want to be prepared..."

Steve's shoulders relaxed and you watched as he visibly exhaled before his face softened. He reached across the space, taking your hand in his and gently running his thumb along your knuckles. 

Your friends told you their doctors were cold and uncaring, Steve wasn't like that, he was always soft with you and always made sure to touch you in such gentle caring ways, you knew you were safe with him.

"You sure you're ready sweetie?" He asked softly, watching you nibble your lower lip.

"Yeah I think so." You sighed, "I mean I'm 23 now and I've waited a long time."

"I know." He smiled, "You're such a sweet girl, so innocent."

"Yeah well...maybe I'm ready for more ya know?" You replied, unsure whether you were trying to convince Doctor Kemp or yourself, but you were fed up of the things your friends said about you, of missing out on something your friends all talked about like it was a gateway drug.

"Okay well as your doctor I guess I'll have to trust what you're saying for the mental side of being ready," Steve hummed, still holding your palm in his, "But there's still the physical."

"Physical?" You gulped, looking up at Steve's blue eyes with your doe ones, as confusion laced your brow.

"Yeah, your vagina might not be ready."  Steve replied. 

"Oh." You gasped in shock, "Really? But...I thought...the girls said.."

"You think your friends know more than me? A qualified practitioner?" Steve scoffed, dropping your hand in your lap with irritation and you felt an embarrassed flush creep up your neck.

"No. Of course not. I just..." You mumbled apologetically.

"We'll need to do an examination." He interrupted, "Make sure everything is okay."

"Right..okay...sure...yeah...." You breathed, rubbing your now sweaty palms along your trousers.

"Good girl." Steve smiled, suddenly soft again, "You wanna jump up behind the curtain, take your jeans and panties off and pop the towel over your lap. I'll be there when you're ready."

You swallowed nervously, getting to your feet and moving to the clinical bed while your hands shook at your sides. You knew you shouldn't be nervous, Steve had seen down there before, several times in fact. He made sure you had regular check ups, making sure to take pictures of your pussy to keep on his files in case anything changed, although he'd never touched you, not once, just appraised between your legs with a clinical scrutiny.

You pulled the paper feeling curtain across the space, separating you from Steve's gaze and quickly stripped your lower half, before climbing onto the hard bed and grabbing way too much paper towel to place over your exposed core.

"Ready." You gulped nervously, hands desperately pressing the paper to your body.

"Okay." Steve hummed before pulling the curtain back, making your body flinch at the sudden screeching sound, "Comfy?" 

"Mmm it's okay." You breathed with a faux smile, "I'm just nervous."

"Don't be nervous sweetheart." He smiled reassuringly, "Nothing you haven't done before. It'll be just like when you do it yourself."

"What do you mean?" You exhaled shakily as he crossed the room, collecting a pair of blue rubber gloves from a nearby drawer.

"I mean it'll only be like when you touch yourself." He replied, facing the wall with a wide smirk and a twitch in his cock that you didn't see.

"Oh..I..I never..." You mumbled nervously, swallowing harshly with wide eyes when Steve suddenly turned to face you once more.

"You've never touched yourself before?" He asked with a raised brow and a twitch in his upper lip.

"N..no..." You repeated.

"God sweetheart, you're such an angel." He almost groaned, quickly snapping the rubber of the gloves before blowing into the opening, "So sweet."

"Oh, uh thank you Doctor Kemp." You blushed, dipping your head under his gaze.

He smiled back, pulling the latex gloves over his large hands before releasing them to his wrists with a loud slap.

"Okay just relax for me sweetie." He said softly as he positioned himself near your lower half, "Bend your knees. That's it and just let your legs drop open."

You did as he asked, pulling your legs up and planting your feet flat on the bed before dropping your knees to the sides, opening yourself up for him.

"Good girl." He praised, "See. It's okay right?"

"Yeah...okay..." You breathed, feeling more secure knowing you were safe with him as you always were.

"Okay. Let's have a look at you." Steve purred, quickly ripping the toweling away from your core and tossing it haphazardly behind him, tongue darting out to run over his lower lip as he looked at your exposed cunt.

"Mmm. Good." He hummed with a nod as his head tilted to the side.

"Is....is it okay?" You asked nervously, attempting to glance down at your own pussy.

"Very beautiful sweetheart." Steve smirked back at you before slipping his gloved hands onto your thighs gently, "Let's have a little feel, see how she's doing?"

His palms slid along the inside of your thighs until you felt his fingers tickle the outer side of your pussy and you audibly gasped at the feeling, unsure if that was how you were supposed to feel when it was your doctor touching you so innocently.

Suddenly you felt his finger tip gently flick at your untouched nub before gently massaging it and you felt an unusual heat spread across your body. 

"That feel okay?" Steve purred, glancing up at your surprised eyes and mouth hanging agape.

"Mmmhmmm." You nodded with a harsh swallow as he continued his soft movements over your clit.

"Words sweetie." Steve coaxed, "Need you to tell me how it feels."

You took a deep breath, letting your head flop back against the bed so you could stare at the ceiling instead of the way Doctor Kemp was staring back at you hungrily.

"It feels g..good." You breathed, "Kinda tingly."

"Yeah?" Steve purred in response, "You're getting nice and wet."

"Is that normal?" You squeaked suddenly, worrying as you regularly felt that flush of wetness pooling down below, often finding patches of dampness in your panties and you worried that it could mean something was wrong.

"Yeah sweetie, perfectly normal." Steve smiled, "It's a good thing."

"Oh..okay...good." You breathed, shoulders relaxing slightly, although still on edge from where he was touching you.

"Now I'm gonna need you to relax sweetheart." Steve ordered softly, "Take a deep breath. Good."

You inhaled deeply and let out a squeak as you felt one of his fingers push inside of your pussy, curling upwards to stroke your inner wall as his thumb took its place on your clit to continue the stimulation there.

Your stomach tightened, more intense heat searing at your skin as sweat began dripping from your brow.

"Oh..." You gasped at the new intrusion.

"Yeah, that okay?" Steve asked and you had to swallow, reminding yourself to use your words when all your body wanted to do was writhe and mewl.

"Mm. Feels. Good." You mumbled, chest heaving up and down.

"Yeah? You got more of those tingles?" He coaxed as he continued pumping his finger inside of you, dragging the tip against your wall and rubbing over your nub in soft circles.

"Yeah and my tummy feels funny." You admitted with a shaky breath as the strange sensations kept building.

"Good, that's what's supposed to happen sweetheart." He hummed in approval, "This is all good so far."

You let out a raspy moan as he continued working your cunt with his finger, feeling yourself becoming wetter and wetter as he continued.

"God. You're so tight." Steve groaned to himself as he stared at his finger disappearing into your virgin pussy over and over, "Dunno if you're gonna be able to take two."

"Huh? Two?" You squeaked, catching the end of his sentence and lifting your head to stare at him with a small amount of fear shooting through you.

"Of my fingers sweetie?" Steve smirked as if it was completely obvious, "Need to get two in to make sure everything is all good inside."

"Oh, okay." You nodded before dropping your head back down. You were being silly, you had nothing to be scared of, Steve was a good doctor, he'd take care of you.

"Just remember to breathe sweetheart and relax." He coaxed with a hitch in his throat, barely holding himself together as his cock pressed stiff and hard against the inside of his slacks, weeping and needy.

"Okay Doctor Kemp." You whimpered as your tummy tightened further.

"Call me Steve." He rasped as he tickled the tip of his middle finger against your opening.

"Steve?" You questioned, though it came out shaky and weak.

"Mmm. Yeah sweetie." He hummed, "You call me Steve, we know each other well enough."

"Okay Steve." You whined softly before letting out a loud moan, "Ahhh!"

"Oh yeah there we go." He grinned as he pushed his middle finger into your pussy to join the other, "Doing so good sweetie, got two fingers in there."

"Oh god. I feel...funny...." You mumbled as heat spread to the tips of your ears and tingles spread across your abdomen, stomach tightening in a way you'd never experienced in your life.

"That's good sweetheart." Steve hummed happily as he sloppily fucked you with his fingers, "That's perfect, you're going to have an orgasm."

"I am?" You gasped, unable to stop yourself from wiggling and digging your fingers into the plastic feeling bed to try and ground yourself.

"Yeah. Just let it happen." He continued, pressing more firmly on your clit and slapping his palm against your core with each thrust of his fingers, "Let me help you."

"Okay Steve." You whined, back arching from the bed involuntarily like it had a mind of its own.

"That's it. Fuck you're perfect." He groaned, using his free hand to grab his cock through his slacks, squeezing it tightly, "So tight, so wet."

"Steve." You whimpered as you felt like you were about to plummet into the abyss, body overtaken with the strange but pleasurable sensations.

"Say my name baby." He grunted, "Say my name when you come on my fingers."

You felt his fingers curl inside you, pressing on a spot that had you suddenly crying his name as your vision whited and your whole body was taken over by a white hot bliss.

"Oh god. Steeveee!" You moaned with tears pooling in your eyes.

"There we go, there she is." He breathed shakily, slowing his movements to work you through the high, "Keep breathing sweetheart, you're okay."

When your body finally relaxed against the bed, shoulders slumping with exhaustion, Steve slipped his fingers from your core, settling his dry hand on your thigh.

"You okay?" He asked softly, looking over your spent body with a proud smile.

"Mmhmm." You hummed with a lazy nod, "That was...good....I liked it...was it okay?"

"It was perfect sweetie." He reassured you, "I'm just gonna have a little taste to make sure?"

"A taste?" You said, head tipping up and eyes snapping to his, seeing a dark glint in his eyes you'd never noticed before.

"Yeah, you can tell a lot by the taste?" He smirked.

You watched as he brought the creamy coated, blue latex to his mouth, swirling his tongue around the wet digits before sucking them into his mouth with a low hum.

"Mmm god." He groaned, shifting on his feet as his erection throbbed, "Fuck."

"Is it okay?" You breathed, worried by his reaction.

"Perfect. So perfect." He hummed as his eyes rolled in pleasure at the taste of your innocence.

"Okay good." You nodded, pushing yourself up onto your elbows and letting your legs drop flat onto the bed.

Steve slowly pulled his gloves off with loud snaps of rubber, before looking at you with a gleeful smile.

"Get dressed sweetheart and we'll have a chat." He grinned before stepping towards his desk and pulling the curtain across the space, as though he hadn't just seen every part of you.

"So it was all okay?" You asked as you pulled the curtain back, clothes now firmly in place as you crossed the space and carefully sat in your seat, watching his reaction with interest.

"Yes and no." He hummed with a nod as he typed something on his computer.

"What is it?" You replied as anxiety began niggling in your mind.

He let out a sigh before turning to face you, placing his hands on your knees softly.

"You're ready sweetheart but there's a small problem." He said with a serious expression that had you shifting in your seat, hands clutching each other uselessly.

"What is it?" You mumbled as fresh tears began to pool.

"Well you're so tight that it's going to be difficult for you to have sex, painful." He admitted and your eyes widened in surprise, you had never thought about the fact that someone may not be able to fit, it hadn't even crossed your mind. You internally scolded yourself for being so stupid and naive. Your friends spoke about sex like it was so easy, you should have known it wouldn't be that simple.

"Oh." You murmured, "Is there something I can take to help?"

"I think it would be best if you come back tomorrow for a longer appointment and I will pop your cherry for you. I'll be able to do it safely and with minimal pain for you." He said, brows furrowing in concentration to stop the smirk threatening to over take his face.

"You mean? Like with equipment?" You squeaked nervously, cursing yourself when you felt more wetness pooling at the thought of Doctor Kemp playing with you again.

"No sweetie, I'll do it myself, with my cock, take real good care of you." He said softly, reaching a hand up to cradle your cheek with a genuine tenderness, "Then you should be ready for other people."

"Really? You'd do that?" You almost whimpered under his touch.

"Of course Sweetheart. Anything to help." He smiled, "I wouldn't be a very good doctor otherwise would I?"

"I guess not." You giggled, watching as his lips twisted up into a charming smile.

"Okay then." He grinned as he released you, "You go home and get some rest. You'll need it for tomorrow."

"Okay doc...Steve." You corrected yourself with a shy smile before standing, "See you tomorrow."

"Can't wait sweetheart." He smiled, watching your ass jiggle as you walked away, with his lip between his teeth and a promise to his cock that tomorrow was the day he would finally make you his, you just didn't know it yet. 

Everything tag - @late-to-the-party-81

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SS Tag - @buckysdecaflove