18+ Filth and pure smut. My mind is on a sexy dilf Bucky with those delicious greys in his beard. I want his sweet wife teasing him over his age, especially after he shakes his head over the way their teenage sons friends keep trying to subtly hit on her. He doesn't blame them because his wife is gorgeous; an absolute milf and he's the luckiest man on the planet to call her his.
You can't help but playfully pinch his side when Bucky ushers your son and his friends all out of the house, slipping him a few bills, insisting he stay out late as he wants. He even gives him permission to crash at a friends house for the night leaving the two of you alone. (of course your son already knows why his dad is so persistent and it leaves him both disgusted and happy his parents are still so in love).
"Breakin' young boys hearts, Mrs. Barnes" Bucky lets out a low chuckle, untying the apron that was tied around your waist, letting it drop to the floor.
"Careful there, old man" You tease, giggling at the way he cocks an eyebrow not that the house was empty, "Might get a heart attack if you try anything at your age" and with that you saunter off to the bathroom to run a shower, looking over your shoulder to see if your husband would follow. He watches the way your hips sway, the insatiable little minx in you trying to get a rise out of him, discarding your clothing in the middle of the bedroom and leaving the bathroom door unlocked on purpose.
He'd show you exactly what an old man could do.
****
You felt your muscles relax as steam filled the room, hot water spraying against your skin while you added your peach shower gel to the loofah. You wondered what Bucky was up to, usually he'd-
"James" You gasp, feeling your husbands hard cock brush against your ass as he presses up you from behind, his large hands moving up your soap slicked body to grope onto your lathered breasts, his fingers pinching your nipples, giving them a harsh tug.
"Shhh," He smirked, nipping your neck, his tongue running up your skin, licking up the water droplets, "Don't stop on my account gorgeous, go on" He let out a satisfied hum when you went back to gently scrubbing your skin, his hands moving to rub up your thighs, ghosting in between them before pulling away and standing in front of you. His cock stood tall and proud, his swollen tip so pink, begging to be touched.
"James, please-
"Uh-uh, thought m' just an old man baby, just doin' what old men do" He smirked, palming himself, his eyes raking up and down your body, wrapping his hand around his shaft, "Aren't you pretty"
You went along with exactly what Bucky wanted, letting your hands trail along your body, soapy bubbles flowing down your curves while your husband started to stroke himself while leaning against the cold shower wall. "You're a pretty sight, look at what you do me to darlin' got me acting like a perverted little boy, touching myself while watching you"
He groaned, jerking himself faster, not sure what he wanted to focus on first. He'd seen you naked plenty of times and he'd certainly showered with you more times that he could count but he'd never get tired of the sight of his wife covered in the cutest bubbles, dripping wet, putting on a shower all just for him.
While Bucky was admiring you, you admired him right back. He'd aged like fine wine, his chestnut hair still luscious, the ends of his hair curling from the steam of the water. His beard had a few flecks of grey which just added to how handsome he was along with the thick muscle that ran under his skin. Nothing turned you on more than a very naked Bucky under hot water, lost in self pleasure with you as his muse. Every groan and whimper was for you, shamelessly touching every intimate part of himself because of you. It was that very sight that had your fingers start to travel down your body, your pussy desperately craving attention.
"That's mine, sugar" Bucky grabbed your wrist before you could slip it between your thighs, pulling it away and positioning himself behind you again. "This pussy here-" His palm cupped every bit of your cunt in the most debauched way, his cock slotted between your ass while his chest was pressed against your back, "Is all mine. I get to play with her baby, s'mine to touch"
"Then touch me Jamie, please" Your voice was nothing more than a whine now and the pet name that slipped out was more than enough for Bucky to know you needed him bad.
"M'Jamie now, huh? Thought I was just an old man before" He chuckled, rubbing his cockhead against your slicked entrance, teasing and letting the tip catch on your hole and pulling away before stuffing his way in.
"F-FUCK JAMES!" You cried out as he set a brutal pace without warning, his thighs slamming against your ass, his hands holding your hips with a bruising grip. "P-PLEASE-Don't-don't stop!"
"That's it, scream for me baby, let everyone know how your husband fucks you" Bucky's hands held onto you for dear life, fucking you like a ragdoll, his fingers skimming across your belly and down to your clit. He could feel your stretch marks as he felt your body up, one of his favorite things about you, his mind starting to wander.
He remembered the way they felt when you were pregnant with your son, the way he'd hold onto your belly, tracing over those gorgeous lines as they made room for his growing baby boy. He'd feel those same curves when making love to you, loving the way you were extra sensitive, constantly craving for him to fill you up. You were the most gorgeous thing when you had a piece of him inside you, fuck he missed it, his balls felt so fuckin' heavy and full and maybe it was just the heat and steam from the shower but-
"Think you could handle another baby?" Bucky purred, his cock already getting harder at the thought of you with a rounded belly again, looking fucking gorgeous, barefoot and pregnant. He was perfectly happy with the way things were but another wouldn't hurt....
Fuck it.
"M'gonna knock you up pretty girl, you'll have my baby again won't ya, gonna let me get you pregnant again? Show everyone I still know how to fuck, show em how well you take my cum in that tight little cunt"
"Oh God, Jamess" Your eyes practically crossed as his fingers began to strum your clit, your head thrown back, barring your neck letting him bite and suck bruises onto your skin, groaning into your ear, "Gonna-gonna cum"
"C'mon mommy, make me a daddy again" Bucky's pace grew faster, the obscene sound of skin slapping filling the bathroom. "Milk my cock, take my cream, want it, want another baby"
Bucky angled his hips to hit depths you didn't know were possible, his fingers rubbing tight circles onto your clit along with those words alone sent you crashing head first into your orgasm. A sob slipped past your lips as your vision went white, your cunt greedily pulsing and gripping onto Bucky's cock, coaxing for him to empty his balls in you.
"That's-fuck that's it, just like that, milk it, shit mommy, milk daddy's cock, fuck'm'gonna-oh God I'm cumming!" Bucky bit down onto your shoulder letting out a slutty moan as cum burst from his cock, his endless orgasm leading to drops of his pearly white seed splashing onto the shower tile below. "Fuck, you make me cum so hard for you baby"
His hips stutterd at the aftershocks of his orgasm, his cock still throbbing the last few spurts while his arms held your limp body, rinsing you both off. He wrapped you up with a fluffy towel, carrying you bed with ease and snuggling up in the sheets.
"Meant what I said, angel" Bucky gave you a soft smile, a hint of shyness now replacing his previous dominant demeanor. "How about another"
"I'd give you as many babies as you want, Mr. Barnes" You giggled, squealing when he rolled on top of you, instantly hard-
My bad, I got distracted while already distracted and then this happened. Look at him though, can you blame me.
Summary: Your daughter wants her dad to look pretty.
Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Wife!Reader
Characters: Steve Rogers
Warnings: fluff, domestic Bucky, daddy Bucky
Catch up here: Magnetism
“MOMMY!“ Your daughter gasped loudly when your husband got out of his car, someone else but you in tow. “Who’s that walking with Daddy?"
She was about to cry watching her father walk toward you, a stranger by his side. They were chatting and laughing, all the while your daughter was losing her mind. “DADDY!”
She held out her hands, whimpering like a small, wounded animal.
“DADDY!”
“Babygirl!” Bucky stopped dead in his tracks. His daughter was in distress, and he couldn’t bear it. “What happened? Who hurt you?”
“Daddy,” she choked out a sob, running toward her father to look up at him. “Why are they walking with you?”
You chuckled softly at Bucky's confused look. “She’s worried you found someone prettier than her mommy, right?”
“No,” your daughter sniffled silently. “He…he laughed with them. Daddy can only laugh with me.”
“Aw, Babygirl,” Bucky said, wrapping his arms around his trembling daughter. “But you know Uncle Steve, right? He’s Daddy’s friend. He was telling me a joke.”
Your daughter peeked up to look at Steve. “No. That’s not Uncle Steve. He’s got a beard, and his hair is longer. Uncle Stevie’s face is smooth, and his hair is short.”
“Little doll,” Steve laughed, crouching down to get on your daughter’s eye level. “It’s me, Uncle Stevie. I didn’t have anyone around to tell me to shave and brush my hair. That’s why I look different.”
Your daughter made a face. “I don’t like it. I want your face as smooth as my dolphin plushie.” She looked at Steve again, recognizing the bracelet she had made for him on his wrist. “Mommy, we need to help Uncle Stevie. He looks like a lumberjack.”
Bucky chuckled because his friend looked offended for a second. “You know, lumberjacks are strong men who cut wood. They are nice men, mostly.”
“Hmm…” your daughter nodded slowly. “Then he’s a nice lumberjack. I need my brush. Maybe I can braid his hair.”
Bucky smirked at his friend. “Yeah, I bet Uncle Stevie will look great. I’ll leave him to you.”
“YAY!” Your daughter excitedly jumped up and down. “I’m going to braid Daddy and Uncle Stevie’s hair! Can I use the glitter, Mommy?"
It was your turn to smirk. Bucky’s hair grew longer, and now, he was going to look even better with hair clips and glitter in his hair. “Of course, you can use glitter…”
Your son watched two super-soldiers turn into princesses. While Jamie Jr. laughed and snickered, your daughter added more glitter to Steve’s hair. “Uncle Steve, your hair is pink now.”
“I know,” Steve grumbled, but he smiled at your daughter. “We are pretty princesses now. Do you want some glitter too?”
“No!” Your son violently shook his head. “Last time, my friends made fun of me because she put a pink hair clip in my hair.”
“You looked cute,” your daughter said. “I will do your hair next. First, I need to finish making Daddy even prettier.” She said and grabbed a pink hair bow clip.
You couldn’t help but chuckle at Bucky’s pained expression. He loved his daughter dearly, but she was about to put even more glitter and the hair clip in his hair.
“Doll,” he whispered, pleadingly looking your way. “I still look manly, right?”
“I’ll put another magnet on Daddy’s arm.” Your son ran off to get a dinosaur magnet. “Daddy! I’ll save your coolness.” Jamie Jr. ran toward his father to put the magnet on his arm. “YAY! Now you are cool.”
“Daddy is always cool!” Your daughter confidentially said. “He doesn’t need a magnet. He’s the coolest and nicest dad in the world.”
Jamie Jr. looked at his father, his eyes saddened because Bucky’s focus was on his sister.
“Why don’t you sit here with Uncle Steve and me while your sister makes us pretty?” Bucky said. “Maybe she’ll make you pretty too, bud. What do you say?”
Your son climbed onto the couch, sitting between Bucky and Steve. He proudly told his sister to make him prettier than his father…
bucky barnes x reader
summary: a family trip to Italy was supposed to be about culture and sightseeing — not stolen glances at your dad’s best friend. but with Bucky around, every photo, every dinner, every late-night walk only makes it harder to pretend.
word count: 4k
warnings: explicit +18 mdni, smut, age gap, dad’s best friend, unprotected sex, fingering, dirty talk.
You're in Florence, sweltering under the afternoon sun, pretending you care about Renaissance art when all you’ve done for the past two hours is sneak glances at the man walking just a few steps ahead of you.
James Buchanan Barnes.
Your dad’s best friend. Also known as: the man who's been single-handedly ruining your peace of mind since day one of this “family vacation.”
He’s wearing a dark linen shirt, rolled up to his elbows. His hair is pulled into a lazy bun, a few strands falling around his face. And when he lifts his sunglasses to get a better look at the Duomo, you almost drop your phone.
Italy was supposed to be about family. Sightseeing. Culture. That’s what you kept reminding yourself, at least, every time your dad snapped another picture for Instagram.
And yet somehow, every picture your eyes went straight to him. The man who’d been around your whole life in one way or another, but who had apparently decided that this summer, during this trip, he would choose to look like sin.
You go through your dad's photo dump from the trip and zoom in on Bucky every single time he’s in the background.
In one, he's laughing at something your mom said at dinner. His hand’s mid-air, holding a wine glass, his smile wide and stupidly attractive.
In another, he's half asleep in the back of the tour van, head tilted back, throat on full display. You cropped that one.
You have a whole folder at this point. Titled “scenery” in case someone goes through your phone. You're sick.
It doesn’t help that he’s nice to you. Says your name soft, helps you carry your bag when the cobblestones get too much, teases you when you order gelato for the third time in a day. Calls you sweetheart.
Now, he’s turned back to check on you, eyes squinting against the sun. “You good back there?”
You nod way too fast. “Yep. Good. Great.”
“Not too hot?”
You choke. On air. “Hot? N–no. I mean—yes. But it’s fine. I’m good.”
He raises a brow, like he knows. Like he’s seen the way you freeze up when he stands too close, the way your eyes linger a little too long. Maybe he’s humored by it. Maybe it’s just your overactive imagination.
Either way, he chuckles. Walks slower so you’re next to him now. Close enough that you smell his cologne. You’re doomed.
By dinner that night, you were a mess.
The restaurant was tucked into a narrow street, string lights overhead, tables so close together you could hear other people’s conversations. You tried to focus on the food, on the laughter, on anything that wasn’t Bucky. But of course he had to sit across from you, glass of red wine in hand, his voice low and steady whenever he leaned in to answer your dad.
You felt his eyes before you even looked up.
“Something on my face, doll?” he asked suddenly, catching you in the act.
Your fork clattered against the plate, and you nearly dropped it entirely. “N-no. Sorry.”
He smirked, lifting his glass again. “Didn’t think pasta was that distracting.”
You ducked your head, wishing the ground would open up and swallow you whole.
The next day was worse.
The vineyard tour the next day is worse. The sun is brutal, and Bucky undoes two buttons, collar open, chest glinting with sweat. You nearly melt. When his hand brushes your arm, your heart stutters so violently you think he must hear it.
“You’re awfully quiet today,” he said, walking beside you, his voice pitched just for you.
You kicked at a loose pebble, trying to look anywhere but at him. “Just tired.”
“Mm,” he hummed, clearly not buying it. His hand brushed your arm—accidentally, maybe, maybe not—and you swore your heart forgot how to beat for a second.
Later, when the tour guide paused to explain the wine-making process, you pulled out your phone, pretending to check messages. You tilted it ever so slightly, snapped a photo—just of the group, just the vineyard—but your eyes immediately zoomed in on him afterward. His profile, sharp against the golden light.
But when you look up, he’s already watching you. This time no teasing smile — just something heavy. Sharp. You lock your phone like it burns, but the damage was done. Because if he hadn’t noticed before, you were pretty sure he did now.
Avoidance doesn’t work. In a small gallery the next day, cool marble and quiet, his voice finds you.
“Thought you’d gotten lost.”
You turned. He was leaning casually against the wall, arms crossed, watching you like he’d been waiting for you to notice him.
Your throat went dry. “Just… needed a break.”
His gaze flicked over you — not in a way anyone else would notice, but enough to make your skin feel too tight. “You’ve been doing that a lot lately.”
You forced a shrug. “I’m fine.”
Bucky tilted his head, like he didn’t quite believe you. And then, softer: “You always were a bad liar, y’know that?”
Before you can answer, your dad calls. The moment slips away. But later, when Bucky takes a family photo, you see it clear: everyone’s smiling for the camera, but his eyes are locked on you.
No one else notices. But you do.
The trip blurs. Piazzas, dinners, espresso. And him. Always him. The world sees your dad’s best friend carrying bags, holding doors. Only you see how he angles toward you in every crowd, how his gaze finds yours like it can’t help itself. You were losing your mind quietly.
One afternoon, while your parents haggle at a market stall, Bucky appears at your side like he’d been magnetized there.
“Not really your thing, huh?” he asked, nodding toward the table of trinkets.
You shook your head, managing a small laugh. “I don’t think I need another keychain.”
“Smart,” he said. Then, quieter, leaning in just enough that you felt the brush of his shoulder, “Besides, you’ve already got something to remember this trip by, don’t you?”
Your chest tightened. Does he know? He can’t know.
But when you looked up, he was already straightening, his expression unreadable again.
That night your dad posts another selfie. Everyone’s smiling. Except Bucky, whose eyes are fixed on you. Sharp. Uncovered.
You can’t pretend anymore.
On the seventh night, your parents went up to their hotel room early, worn out from the long day of exploring. You lingered in the lobby, scrolling aimlessly on your phone, nerves buzzing like static. You weren’t waiting for him, not really. At least, that’s what you told yourself.
And then the elevator doors opened.
Bucky stepped out, hair still damp from a shower, a plain black t-shirt stretched over his shoulders like it had been made for him. He spotted you immediately. “Not heading up yet?”
Your throat felt dry. “Couldn’t sleep.”
“Same.” He hesitated for only a moment before nodding toward the front doors. “Walk with me?”
You should’ve said no. You knew you should’ve. But your body betrayed you, feet already moving before your brain caught up.
You walked side by side, close enough that his hand brushed yours every so often, close enough that every brush set off sparks under your skin.
“You’ve been different this trip.”
Your head whipped toward him. “Different how?”
He shrugged, eyes forward. “Quieter. Can’t tell if you’re avoiding me, or…” He trailed off, but the weight of what he didn’t say hung heavy between you.
Your pulse thudded in your ears. “Or what?” you asked, barely a whisper.
That’s when he stopped walking. Just… stopped. You almost stumbled, turning to face him, the glow of a streetlamp cutting across his features. His jaw was tense, his eyes dark in a way that made your stomach drop.
“Or maybe you’re not avoiding me at all.”
The air felt electric, charged, like the entire city was holding its breath. He was so close now, close enough that you could see the flecks of silver in his hair, close enough that if you leaned in just a fraction—
And then he exhaled sharply, shaking his head. He stepped back, running a hand through his hair. “We should head back.”
The spell shattered. Just like that.
You nodded mutely, heart pounding, and followed him in silence.
The next day your dad suggested a slower pace, and eventually everyone settled on exploring the quieter streets near the hotel. You swore you wouldn’t let yourself get caught up in him again. You repeated it like a mantra while brushing your teeth, while pulling on a sundress, while sitting across from him at breakfast.
It didn’t work.
Because Bucky wasn’t making it easy.
“You always walk like you’re in a hurry,” he said casually, hands tucked in his pockets, matching the pace of his steps with yours.
You huffed a laugh. “Maybe I just don’t want to get left behind.”
His eyes flicked down at you, unreadable, then softened. “Trust me. I’d never let that happen.”
Your breath caught. It was nothing — just words, just Bucky being… Bucky. Except his tone was different, low and certain in a way that made your skin stutter.
A block later, your mom spotted a shop she wanted to duck into. Your parents disappeared inside, leaving you and Bucky standing awkwardly on the sun-warmed cobblestones.
You fiddled with the strap of your bag, unsure what to do with yourself. “They’ll probably be a while.”
“Good,” he said without thinking.
Your head snapped up. “What?”
He ran a hand through his hair, looking almost frustrated with himself. Then he stepped closer — just a fraction, but enough that the air shifted. “You’re driving me crazy, you know that?”
Your breath hitched. “Me?”
He stepped closer still, close enough that you could smell the faint trace of cologne under the salt and sun. “Don’t play dumb, doll. I see the way you look at me.” His voice dipped, almost a growl. “You think I don’t notice? The pictures. The staring.”
Your entire body froze. He knew.
“I—” you started, but the words tangled.
And then he slipped.
One of his hands came up, fingers brushing just under your chin, tilting your face toward his. The touch was barely there, feather-light, but it lit you up like a match. His thumb lingered against your jawline, the calloused pad dragging across your skin like he couldn’t stop himself.
For one breathless second, you thought he might kiss you right there in the shadow of the alley.
But then his jaw tightened, and he dropped his hand, stepping back as if burned. “We shouldn’t,” he muttered, more to himself than to you.
Your heart was racing so hard you thought it might echo in the street. “Then why—”
“Because I couldn’t help it,” he cut in, voice rough. His eyes met yours, blazing, unguarded for once. “And that’s the problem.”
Before you could say anything, before you could even breathe properly, he turned and walked ahead, leaving you pressed against the wall, your skin still tingling where he’d touched you. And for the first time, you knew with absolute certainty: this wasn’t just you anymore.
At dinner, the lively chatter of your family faded into the background, drowned out by the weight of Bucky’s gaze. Every glance across the table chipped away at your composure, leaving you restless and distracted.
When he quietly asked if you were okay while your dad was away from the table, his low, intimate tone only made your chest tighten. By dessert, you were unraveling, so you excused yourself. His eyes followed you, making your skin burn.
Hours later, after you’d changed into pajamas and tried to read to calm your racing heart, a soft, deliberate knock sounded at your bedroom window.
Your stomach flipped. You peeked out, and there he was — eyes glinting in the moonlight, looking impossibly dangerous and yet impossibly tender.
“Bucky…” you breathed. “What are you doing here?”
“Didn’t think knocking on your door was smart,” he muttered, voice low, smirking at you through the glass. “But you left your jacket.”
Your chest tightened at how careful he was, how much thought he’d put into this little act just for you. Without thinking, you opened the window wider and let him slip inside.
“It’s cold,” you murmured, shivering slightly, and he handed you the jacket, lingering close. The heat radiating off him made your fingers tremble.
“You okay?” he asked softly, voice almost a whisper. His hand brushed against yours.
“Better… now,” you admitted, unable to stop the small laugh that escaped.
For a long moment, you both just stood there, the quiet hum of Florence outside, the nearness of him, and the undeniable electricity that had been building all week. Neither of you moved to break the silence, neither of you wanting to be the first to let go.
And in that suspended, fragile moment, you knew — everything that had been simmering all week, all the glances, all the touches, all the near-misses — was finally teetering on the edge of something neither of you could deny anymore.
You swallowed hard, heart hammering, body buzzing with nerves you hadn’t been able to contain all day.
“You didn’t have to climb all the way here,” you murmured.
“I wanted to,” he replied, voice low, rough, and dangerous. He stepped closer, closing the sliver of space between you. “I wanted to see you.”
Your chest heaved. “Bucky…”
He didn’t let you finish. One hand came up to your jaw, tilting your face toward his with a force that was gentle but undeniable. The other slipped behind your back, pressing you closer against him. Your body betrayed you, leaning in without thought.
His lips hovered over yours, brushing softly at first — teasing, dangerous, impossible to resist. You tried to pull back, to remind yourself this wasn’t supposed to happen, that it was forbidden, that your dad’s best friend shouldn’t be here like this. But you couldn’t. Every nerve ending in your body screamed for him.
Then his mouth covered yours, and the world shattered.
It was rough, demanding, hungry. His tongue teased yours, daring, claiming, as if punishing you for all the stolen glances and quiet lust that had built up over the week. His hands roamed over your body with precision — one pressing firmly to your waist, the other to the back of your neck, threading through your hair, holding you like you were about to vanish if he let go.
You gasped into the kiss, melting against him, letting the sin of it wash over you. Nothing mattered except the way he tasted, the way he moved, the way he made you feel.
Your breath still came in shallow gasps, Bucky’s forehead resting against yours, his thumb sweeping lightly along your jaw like he wasn’t ready to stop touching you. Like stopping would mean admitting it had happened.
You didn’t speak. Neither did he. Because there wasn’t anything to say that wouldn’t shatter the fragile, burning thing suspended between you.
His fingers drifted to your waist again, and you swore you could feel every callus, every brush of his skin like it had been branded there. And when he looked at you — really looked — it was with something hungry and aching and impossibly soft all at once.
“I should go,” he said, voice raw.
Your fingers curled in the fabric of his shirt. “I know.” Neither of you moved.
His mouth ghosted over yours again — not a kiss this time, just the echo of one. A memory in the making. He whispered, “This doesn’t mean nothing, you know.”
You swallowed hard. “I know.”
“Say it again,” he said, eyes flicking to your lips. “So I believe it.”
You reached up slowly, palm settling against his chest. His heartbeat was wild under your hand. “It doesn’t mean nothing,” you said, barely audible.
He nodded, jaw clenched like it was taking every ounce of control to step back. But he did. Eventually. Hands slipping away like it hurt to let go.
“I’ll see you in the morning,” he murmured, and climbed back out the window like something out of a fever dream.
You didn’t sleep.
Your dad wanted to see another cathedral in the morning, dragging your mom along, but you begged off with the excuse of a headache. Bucky stayed behind too, claiming he’d already seen enough stone and stained glass to last a lifetime.
That left the two of you alone.
Exactly what you shouldn’t have wanted — and exactly what you did.
He didn’t say anything at first. Just waited until the rest of the group was out of sight.
“Your dad would kill me if he knew.”
You looked at him. Really looked.
“But he doesn’t,” you said softly.
Bucky exhaled. “You’re not making this easy.”
“You’re not walking away,” you countered.
He stepped closer.
And this time, when he kissed you, it wasn’t hesitant or careful or secret. It was real. Possessive. His hand at the back of your neck, the other gripping your waist like he couldn’t stand another second of pretending.
When he pulled back, your lips were swollen and your heart was in your throat.
“You better keep your window open tonight.” he said, voice hoarse.
Your parents returned late, laughing about the worst pizza they’d eaten so far. You played your part. Ate three bites, smiled at the right times, slipped away after dessert.
You were brushing your hair when the soft knock came again.
You opened it before thinking, and there he was. Still the man who kissed you like he couldn’t stop.
“This is a bad idea,” he said.
You opened the window wider. “So don’t come in.”
He jumped inside without hesitating.
It felt louder than it should’ve, the soft thunk of wood against frame echoing in the small room like a final decision.
He didn’t move right away. Neither did you.
The air shifted — thickened — stretched taut between you.
Bucky stood there. His jaw was tight. His hands flexed at his sides, as though he didn’t trust them.
“I shouldn’t be here,” he said, voice barely above a whisper.
“You are here.”
He exhaled through his nose, eyes flicking up to meet yours. “Say the word, and I’ll walk out.”
Your stomach flipped.
It would’ve been easier if he’d kissed you again the second he stepped inside. If he’d let the tension snap the way it was threatening to. But this was worse. This slow, dangerous unraveling.
This was a man who had waited. Held back. Felt everything, and kept it all in his chest like it would kill him if he let it out.
You stepped toward him — one careful step.
He didn’t move away.
“I don’t want you to leave,” you said, quiet but sure.
The breath he let out was sharp. Almost pained. Then he was on you.
His mouth crashes back onto yours like he’s starved for it, like he’s been waiting years for this moment. “Fuck” His voice was low, wrecked, lips trailing down your jaw and your neck as he presses you back against the wall, body hot and solid against yours. “You feel what you do to me, doll? How bad I’ve been needing this?”
Your answer was a whimper, your hands already sliding under his shirt, nails dragging down the ridges of his abs.
His hands roam shamelessly — one sliding down to grip your waist, the other dragging over your thigh before hooking it around his hip, pinning you to him. You can feel him, hard and thick, straining against his jeans, grinding against your core until your head spins.
“B-Bucky—”
“Shh,” he growls, one hand suddenly pressing lightly over your mouth. His eyes burn into yours, dark and hungry. “Gotta keep quiet, sweetheart. Your dad’s right down the hall.”
The warning only makes your pulse race faster. You nod, muffling another gasp against his palm as he ruts harder against you, the friction making you ache.
He smirks, feral, like he can feel how soaked you are through your dress. “That’s it. Good girl. So fuckin’ sweet for me.”
When his fingers finally slip beneath your dress, dragging your panties aside, you nearly sob into his hand. He strokes you slowly, deliberately, spreading the wetness over your swollen clit, then dips lower, teasing your entrance until your thighs tremble.
“So wet already,” he murmurs against your ear, voice rough silk. “Been waiting for me to touch you like this, huh?”
You nod frantically, nails biting into his shoulders as he pushes two thick fingers inside you. The stretch makes you whimper, muffled under his palm, back arching against the wall. He curls them deep, hitting the spot that makes your knees nearly give out.
“Look at you,” he whispers, kissing your cheek, your temple, his pace relentless. “So fucking tight. Gripping me like you were made for it.”
By the time he pulls his fingers out, you’re shaking, desperate. He brings them to your lips, smearing them against your mouth before slipping them past. “Suck,” he orders softly, eyes locked on yours. And you do, tasting yourself on his skin, heat flooding your cheeks.
He growled, shoving you gently back until your knees hit the mattress and you fell onto the bed. His body followed, heavy and overwhelming, lips crashing down on yours.
His hand slid down your thigh, spreading you open.
“Christ,” he groans, undoing his jeans. His cock springs free, thick and heavy, brushing against your thigh. Your breath catches at the sheer size of him.
“Eyes up here,” he says with a dangerous grin, lining himself up. “You can take it. I’ll make sure of it.”
The first push steals every bit of air from your lungs. He’s so big it hurts, stretching you wide, forcing you open inch by inch. Your muffled cry vibrates against his hand, and he presses his forehead to yours, panting.
“Fuck, you feel unreal… so tight around me.” He thrusts deeper, slow, controlled, until he’s buried to the hilt, and you swear you see stars.
When he finally starts to move, it’s devastating. Each thrust drags against every nerve ending, filling you so deep you can barely think. Your muffled moans grow higher, desperate, and his grip tightens over your mouth.
“Quiet, baby,” he warns, voice ragged in your ear. “Don’t wanna give us away, do you?”
The danger of it makes your whole body burn hotter. You shake your head wildly, biting down on his palm to keep from crying out as he pounds into you harder, faster, the wet sound of your bodies obscene in the quiet room.
“That’s it,” he groans, jaw tight, sweat beading at his temple. “Take it for me. God, you’re perfect.”
You’re already close, the knot in your belly winding tighter with every thrust, every filthy word he growls against your skin.
“Come for me,” he orders, voice wrecked. “Be my good girl and come all over my cock. Quiet — don’t want Daddy hearing his baby crying on my dick.”
That filth shatters you. The orgasm tears through your body, violent, overwhelming, your scream strangled under his hand. You convulse around him, walls milking him until he curses, rutting harder.
“Fuck—fuck—” he pants, pulling out at the last second to spill hot against your stomach, his groan low and guttural as he braces himself above you.
For a long moment, the only sound is your ragged breathing, the pounding of your hearts.
Then, softer, almost reverent, he kisses you again. Slow this time.
“Shouldn’t have happened,” he whispers against your lips. “But I don’t regret a damn thing.”
And you know, with absolute certainty, that neither of you will stop now.
Could you write something where there’s an emergency and stucky have to go help and reader is being so brave in the safe room? Or something else.. I trust you💗💗
Over a year later....I'm sorry for the delay. Please believe me it eats at me. Hope you're still around for this, and I love you <3
Take One Down
Pairing: Daddy!Stucky x Little!F!Reader, featuring big Peter
Warnings: DDLG (SSC), f! reader, reader is named but name scarcely used, language, pet names, attack on the Tower during the night, Bucky is armed, slight alcohol reference, angsty/scared baby, a few tears, safe room. Happy Ending- always :)
A/N- also Happy Birthday to me :D
YOU ARE RESPONSIBLE FOR YOUR OWN MEDIA CONSUMPTION. THIS STORY IS SFW- THE REST OF MY BLOG IS NOT NECESSARILY SO. MINORS DNI. I DO NOT CONSENT FOR MY WORK TO BE STOLEN, COPIED, OR TRANSLATED ONTO ANY OTHER SITE BUT MY OWN. Likes, comments and reblogs are deeply appreciated.
The first thing you became aware of was that Papa was breathing hard. And you were in his arms.
Then you realized you weren't in bed, and you were moving. Fast.
"Papa?" you whimpered sleepily, not being awake enough to understand what was happening.
"Shh, shh, it's okay baby, you're okay," Papa said instantly, pressing a quick kiss in your hair. Despite his soothing words, he didn't slow his pace at all.
You forced your heavy eyelids to open, and then almost immediately shut them again as the flashing red lights in the hallway were too bright. You were still in your pajamas, but you definitely weren't at home. Steve could feel that you were waking up and becoming more alert, but he couldn't stop. He had to get you to safety.
"Where's Daddy?" you asked, your voice trembling as you started to realize something was wrong. "Daddy okay?"
"Right here, Trouble," came Daddy's voice from farther away. You tried to twist in Papa's arms to see where Daddy was, but Papa's iron grip on you didn't leave much purchase.
"It's okay, princess, you're safe, but I need you to be a good girl and be quiet for us right now, okay?" Steve said, deliberately keeping his voice calm and low even through the exertion of running.
"'Kay," you said as quietly as you could, holding on to Papa tightly, shutting your eyes tightly, and trying to be brave. Steve kissed your hair again and kept running.
Within 30 seconds, you felt Steve stop. You opened your eyes and looked around. It took you a second, but you recognized this place. You'd been here before, back when you very first came to live with Steve and Bucky. You were in the panic room.
The reinforced steel walls were made slightly less intimidating by the giant sofa that could convert into a bed, the soft rug that nearly covered every inch of floor, and the overwhelming amount of toys and stuffed animals in baskets and boxes all around the edge of one wall. You hadn't been here in a while, but you could never forget this place.
Your eyes darted all around, trying to get some answers or understanding as to what happened, but before it came to you, Steve set you down carefully on your feet and took you gently by the shoulders. You heard Bucky shut and lock the door, but before you could turn to look Steve gently guided your face back towards his.
"Katie-Cat, I need you to listen to me, okay?" Steve said, looking you very seriously and directly in the eye. "Someone is in the Tower. Someone who's not supposed to be here. We don't know how they got in, but right now, we need to keep you safe so we can go get them out. Do you understand?"
"I- yes, Papa," you said shakily. You swallowed your nerves down and tried to be brave.
"Good girl," Steve said, as a fierce wave of protectiveness rushed through him. "Peter is on his way, and he's going to stay in here with you and keep you safe while Daddy and I go get the person out. Okay?"
"Petey coming?"
"Yes."
"He don't need to fight?"
"Right now, he needs to keep you safe, that's his most important job."
"But...who gonna keep him safe?"
"He's Big Peter right now, munchkin- he's going to be okay. Can you be a good girl and listen to what Peter says and do what he tells you to?"
"Um- yeah. Papa-"
"Good girl. You remember the rules of the safe room?"
"Papa..."
"The rules, Katie-Cat."
"Don't leave the room unless you, Daddy, or Aunt Nat comes to get me, don't open the door for nobody, and....and be good."
"That's my girl," Steve said, his heart both proud and shattered that you had to know these things.
"Papa?" you tried again.
"Yes?"
"You gonna come back, right? You and Daddy?" you asked in a small voice. Steve pulled you into his chest immediately in the biggest bear hug.
"Yes, baby," he said, his voice thick with emotion. "Daddy and I will always come back for you. Always."
Just then, you felt another pair of arms wrap around you two. "Try and keep us away, Trouble," Daddy added in a light, joking tone, but even you could feel the tension underneath it. "Here, I brought you someone who can help you too." Bucky reached behind him and pulled Jellybean out of his back pocket, where he had unceremoniously stuffed her as he and Steve were racing to get you out of the apartment.
You gasped sharply, and pulled your beloved bunny in so tightly to your face that her little button nose left a slight imprint on your cheek. "Tank you Daddy," you said, trying hard not to cry. "AND tank you Papa for carryin' me," you added quickly, not wanting him to feel left out. Both men responded by hugging you tighter.
Just then, the panic room door clicked, announcing that someone else was coming in. Bucky immediately dropped his arms and spun so you and Steve were behind him, his gun appearing in his hand as if by magic. However, once he saw that it was Tony and Peter, he instantly lowered the gun and ran to bolt the door back behind them.
"Pete, you sure you're good?" Tony asked immediately the second the door was shut.
"I'm good Dad, I swear," Peter said. You looked at him wide-eyed- it had been a while since you had heard his big voice.
"Okay. Only if you're sure," Tony pressed.
"I'm sure. I wouldn't take a chance if I wasn't."
"Atta boy."
Tony turned towards the three of you to find Steve smiling at him. "That's good enough for me," Steve said kindly to Peter. "But if there's any trouble at all, and I mean anything, you radio us. Copy?"
"Copy," Peter nodded quickly. "I'll link with your comms now," he said, before pulling out the large, black case from underneath the sleeper bed sofa. He quickly opened the case and got to work on a radio comm.
You watched him carefully. He was so...different and serious when he was Big- not the silly, carefree bestie you immediately recognized- so it was always surprising to you when you saw it. Of course, YOUR definition of 'serious' was much, much different than Tony's or Steve's or Bucky's, but that didn't matter now, as you watched Peter's fingers fly over the machinery.
"Okay, we should be linked," he said into the comm. All three men immediately nodded, confirming that they could hear him in their earpieces. Steve and Bucky spun back to you.
"Do what Peter says. We'll be back as soon as we can," Daddy said gruffly, taking your face in his hands and pressing a long kiss to your forehead. "We love you so much. Be good, got it?"
"Got it," you said, trying to match his gruff tone to show him you could be serious too. That made the ghost of a smile cross his lips, and as Steve kissed you too, it stayed. Tony even came over, quickly, giving you what he hoped was a carefree grin.
"Alright, have fun, stay safe. Don't tap the keg unless you really need to," he said, tapping your nose and grinning when you looked confused and Steve tutted loudly. Bucky was the last one out the door, and before he left, he turned to Peter.
"You remember the code word?" he asked the young man brusquely. Peter nodded, but due to the door being opened, didn't say it. "Good job," Bucky said with that faint grin again, closing and locking the door behind him.
It was deathly silent in the room. You swallowed hard, gripping Jellybean tightly, almost afraid to move, even though you knew you were in the safest spot imaginable (outside of your daddies' arms). Peter immediately noticed your distress.
"Hey Katie, hey Little One," he said softly, holding out his arms to you. "You wanna come here?"
You nodded, then slowly walked towards him. You cautiously stepped into his arms. Once he folded them around you, you inhaled. His scent never changed, no matter if he was big or small, and you knew this was your Petey, no matter how he was feeling right now. You threw your arms around him and hugged him back tightly, and felt him give a soft chuckle. "It's okay, you're okay. I'm gonna keep you safe- you know that, right?"
You pulled back a bit, nodding. "Tank you, Petey. I mean...Peter."
Peter smiled. "Ah, that's okay. You can call me Petey right now if you want to."
"I can?"
"Sure you can."
"Otay Petey," you said, suddenly feeling a little better upon hearing that. "What's happenin' in da Tower?"
"What did Uncle Steve and Uncle Bucky tell you?" Peter asked carefully.
"Um, dat someone got in dat wasn't a'sposed to be in?"
"That's right. And they'll get 'em out, so you don't have to worry about them anymore, okay?"
"Um....okay," you said, wanting to trust Peter with your whole heart, but still uncertain due to the nature of the circumstance. Peter saw pretty quickly that he would need to distract you.
"Hey, you wanna sit on the couch and read some stories while we wait?" He trotted over to the box containing tons of books and started pawing through them. "You can pick out whichever stories you want. Okay?"
Curiosity peaked, you trotted over to look. You recognized The Gruffalo and Frozen, pointing at them. "I like those!" you said excitedly, and Peter snatched them up.
"Let's get to reading!" he said. "Race you to the couch!"
Since it was only a couple feet away, it wasn't much of a race, but it was still fun. It was always fun when you got to run. You both jumped onto the couch enthusiastically, and Peter opened up the first book and began to read. You inched closer and closer to him as he continued, eventually snuggling into his side, your thumb in your mouth and Jellybean in the crook of your arm.
He finished off Frozen in about ten minutes, then turned to you. "Alright, Katie, you ready for...THE GRUFFALO??" he said in a mock scary voice that made you laugh. But once you stopped laughing at his silliness, you had another question in mind.
"Petey, what's a keg?" you asked innocently.
Poor Peter nearly broke his neck doing a double take. "Wh-what?" he asked, not sure of what he heard. When he was in little space with you, your random questions and changes of subject made perfect sense to him, but when he was bigger it was hard to keep up sometimes.
"Unca Tony said don't tap da keg unless we needed to. What's a keg?"
"It's nothing....he was just being silly. Let's read."
"Is a weapon?"
"No...it's....hey, look, books. Let's read."
"But what IS it?"
"Ahhhh...it's....you know....it's...hey, you wanna sing a song?" Peter said, loudly and excitedly, hoping the non-sequitur would distract you.
It worked. "What kind of song?" you asked, intrigued.
"Umm..." Peter thought quickly, trying to get your mind off of what a keg was. He felt a flicker of compassion for Uncle Steve whenever his Dad did this to you, but mostly he was trying to come up with a song. "Hey, do you know Ninety Nine Bottles of...." he said suddenly, his brain both working and failing him miserably all at the same time.
"Bottles of what?" you asked, now completely invested. Peter broke out in a cold sweat. He couldn't teach you a song about beer, for goodness' sake.
"Did I say bottles? That was silly. I meant...boxes. Yeah, boxes!...of... juice! That was it! Ninety Nine boxes of juice on the wall! Do you know that song?" he improvised wildly. You tilted your head, trying to think, but then shook it.
"How's it go?"
Peter cleared his throat awkwardly. He wasn't much of a singer, but he knew he was going to have to give it a go if he had any hope of distracting you from asking about kegs. Uncle Steve and Uncle Bucky would rip his head off if he told you, and he knew that you were stubborn enough to keep asking. But man...he REALLY didn't want to sing and embarrass himself in front of you....
Just then, you both heard a loud crash coming from somewhere below. It was loud enough that it made you both jump, even though the room didn't even shudder. Peter watched as your face turned pale and you gripped your bunny tighter. You pinched your lips together and breathed slowly. He knew exactly what you were doing. You were trying to calm down and being as brave as you could be. His heart melted for you.
And he found his courage in that.
"So...the song," he said, rubbing his hands up and down your arms to regain your attention and hopefully calm you a bit. "It goes..." he coughed again, took a deep breath, and went for it. "Ninety nine boxes of juice on the wall....ninety nine boxes of juice....you take one down and pass it around...ninety eight boxes of juice on the wall!"
You blinked at him, wide-eyed, and waited for the rest. He looked back at you hopefully to see how this was going down.
"Short song," you said, tilting your head, confused. Peter rolled his eyes and chuckled.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
A short time later, Steve and Bucky were finishing sweeping their own floor and apartment. "Clear," Steve said definitively into the comm. "Natasha, Tony, Thor, what's your status?"
When everyone came through confirming the all-clear, Fury came through the line. "Rogers, Barnes, Stark- go get 'em." It was all the permission they needed.
Steve got their first, but instead of punching the code in immediately, he stopped and stared at the door. "Steve?" Bucky asked in a tense voice, instantly on alert. To his immense surprise, Steve turned to him, a look of astonished humor on his face.
"Buck, listen," he whispered. Bucky strained his ears...and then couldn't believe what he was hearing. The room was sound proofed, but hey- they were super soldiers.
"Twenty-three boxes of juice on the wall, twenty-three boxes of juuuuuicceeeee...."
Bucky punched in the code. The second before he touched the keypad though, he heard Peter's voice cut off suddenly, and then within .5 seconds, your voice cut off too. The button panel lit up green and the door unbolted. Bucky threw the door open, Steve right behind him.
Peter was standing in the middle of the room, his suit in the last phase of forming around him, in his classic Spiderman pose. Bucky raised his hands immediately.
"Password?" Peter asked firmly.
"Trouble," Bucky replied immediately. Peter instantly relaxed and stood up straight, his suit disappearing, knowing for sure this was Bucky. "Good job Peter," Bucky said gratefully, even as he and Steve were rushing to the secret panel they knew you were hiding in. The second they slid the door back, you threw yourself into their waiting arms.
Bucky held you so tight you could feel his every breath, and Steve kept kissing your hair and murmuring what a good girl you were. Eventually, you looked over and saw Tony and Peter in an embrace as well, Tony clapping his young charge on the back proudly.
"Are you okay, angel?" Steve asked you, his eyes lovingly scanning your face. You nodded happily.
"Yeah, Papa! We good! Did you get the bad guys?"
"We sure did."
"YAY!! Who was dey? How did dey get in? What did-"
"Okay, angel, that's too many questions for a little girl right now," Steve said gently, nuzzling your nose with his. "We're safe and it's time to go home. Can we go say goodbye and thank you to Peter?"
You nodded again, suddenly very sleepy from all the receding adrenaline. Bucky carried you over to Tony and Peter.
"She was so good and brave, Dad," Peter was saying enthusiastically to Tony. "She picked out books and sang and we jumped on the couch and everything!"
"You did so good, buddy, I couldn't be more proud of you," Tony said, his seams bursting. He grinned at you as you approached. "Hey, thanks for taking it easy on the kid, little one."
"Petey was da best!! He taught me a new song. Papa, you're gonna love it!"
Steve smirked. "I'm sure I will, baby. Can you say thank you please?"
You wiggled a bit, wanting Bucky to let you down, but you gave up pretty quickly. After being separated from you during a stressful situation, Bucky didn't like to put you down for anything. You leaned forward towards Peter, however, and he accommodated you. You gave your big bestie the biggest hug you possibly could.
"Tank you for taking care of me, Petey," you said lovingly. He squeezed you back.
"Thank you for being so good, Katie!" he responded. Tony clapped a hand on his shoulder. He could hear it in Peter's voice- he was getting close to becoming small again, and he wanted to get his brave boy home. You all said your goodbyes and headed home.
You were cuddled between your daddies and asleep again before you knew it, secure in the knowledge that you were safe and loved by the best people in the galaxy.
ohhh could i please request super soldiers little angels au where reader is in babyspace while peter is regressed maybe to around 4 or 5 so steve & bucky teach him how to take care of reader and be a good big brother🥺💕
the super soldiers little angels au masterlist
Steve is bouncing you around in the kitchen, are already sitting at the table and eating their breakfast. Whenever he tries to set you down you would start to whine or fuss instantly, demanding to be held again.
Steve and Bucky exchange glances at that and both just know you are in a smaller headspace today, given your current behavior.
Peter stops shoveling pancakes in his mouth to see how you are sucking mindlessly on your paci, your eyes dropping close here and there as your head rests on Steve’s shoulder.
"Daddy?"
"Yes, buddy?" Bucky glances up from reading through the newspaper to give him his full attention.
"Is bunny otay?" he asks in a whisper, pointing at you and Steve.
"Bunny is in babyspace today." He answers. "You know what that means?" He asks him and Peter nods his head quickly with a smile.
"She baby!"
"Correct, she's feeling a lot smaller than usual and that means you have to be more careful with her today. Dada and I are gonna show you how to take care of her, okay?" he explains and takes you from Steve's arms when the blonde holds you out to him, moving you so you're facing Peter.
You babble happily and make grabby hands for your Petie. As your daddies are talking with each other, Peter makes it his mission to entertain you, doing funny faces or letting you play with his hands.
"We have to go grocery shopping soon." Steve reminds his husband, closing the fridge with a sigh. "Oh, and I-"
Both caregivers attention gets drawn to you and Peter when they hear him yelp, seeing you pulling on his hair slightly.
"Ow, ow, ow! daddy help!" He winces and Bucky smoothly de-tangles your hand from the poor boys hair.
"No pulling, Doll." He chides you softly, helping you flat your hand and pat Peter's head gently a few times. "There, that’s my girl."
"Can we go pway now?" He asks a little impatient, his breakfast already finished by now.
"Sure, buddy, but remember to be gentle with her."
He nods and gets up from his chair to easily pick you up from Bucky's lap thanks to his super-strength, carrying you to your shared playroom.
Throughout the day, Peter is very determined to look after you, carrying you everywhere, talking with you even though he sometimes doesn't understand your babbling.
Sometime around lunch you are both watching Inside Out in the living room, cuddling on the couch. You are laying between Peter's legs with your back against his chest while he has his arms wrapped around you snugly.
Steve and Bucky have just finished preparing a snack for you both, small cut sandwiches with some fruits for Peter and for you a bottle since you're too little for solid food today.
They enter the living room, completely in awe at the sight of you both snuggling peacefully.
"Time for lunch." Steve announces in a quiet voice, not wanting to disrupt the current atmosphere as he and Bucky approach.
Peter perks up at that, smiling. "Can I feed bunny?"
"If you don't forget to eat yourself, you can hold the bottle for her." Bucky smiles back, handing him the bottle as Steve places Peter's plate on the armrest beside him.
Peter adjusts you against him, pulling your paci out of your mouth and quickly puts the rubber of the bottle between your lips before you can protest. Steve corrects the way he holds the bottle for you, raising the boy's hand a bit so the bottle is tilted upwards. As soon as you begin to suckle he starts eating as well albeit a little clumsy, focusing back on the tv.
summary: its summer which means office attire slightly changed and buckys professionalism is on thin ice
a/n: tbf bucky is THE office siren but oh well. OOP AND THIS IS SO LONG AND FOR WHAT????
warnings: yearning, slow burn, bucky in a suit, office misbehaviour, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it) bratty behaviour, dom bucky
~~~~~~
Bucky never expected to be stuck in the office looking at emails, answering them, mostly because in his time computers didn't exist and also being a HYDRA weapon didn't help.
It took a lot of time to get used to it, and he so desperately needed help with the technology that they had to hire someone to teach him basic things, which happened to be you. Well not at first,as they had to hire three people before you because all of them lost patience after day two. But you? You stayed, you took your time explaining things, you didn't rush him, showed him the same things hundred times, and with a smile.
After Bucky somewhat managed to work independently he expected you to leave, there must be better opportunities than to help a 110 year old ex assassin, apparently for you there wasn't.
And so you stayed and worked with him for over a year.
He doesn't know when, but somewhere along the way or maybe it was at the beginning, Bucky started admiring you in a not professional way. At first it was professional, he admired you organisation skills, politics knowledge, work ethic, how you always come 15 earlier to do some preparations for the day ahead.
But then he started noticing things about you, the way you always have scrunchie on your wrist even though your hair is almost always tied, you say it's in case you lose the one on your head, or if you forget to tie your hair at home. Or how you always drink cold coffee, no matter the season, and always put insane amount of sugar since you hate the bitterness, or how you subtly steal pens from other tables because you somehow lose them daily. Or how you have perfume for every day of the week, but you only carry Friday perfume in your purse and then have a battle with yourself if you should use it when the smell of the one you put at home faded.
And then it's the little things you do for him, like turn on his computer just before he comes in the office, or bring him coffee from the same place where you get yours but you always draw something different on the cup, or how you always print out his schedule and color code it so he doesn't have to rely on his phone because you know he hates it, or how you leave him paperwork in three piles, most important, less important and not important (he had gotten in trouble when he skipped this pile once.)
And Bucky knows it's wrong, it was wrong in the 40s and it's wrong now, but he just can't help it, you're just breathtaking. It doesn't help you take your office outfts seriously. You're always dressed professionally but the outfits always have a personal touch. You also love putting pins on your suit jacket, the ones that you always have are your pronouns and a pride flag and you absolutely love showing them off to bigoted old men.
But Bucky is suffering, not only because of summer heat but your outfits are getting more and more revealing each day while still technically appropriate according to the rules.
However today's a different story, this is definitely not appropriate.
The second Bucky walked in the office and saw your outfit he froze. He changed a lot and has come to terms with modern fashion but he has no idea how he'll be able to have a single thought today.
You're wearing a skin tight white shirt, two top buttons unbuttoned as well as the last one, framing your hips perfectly and the replacement for gray pants you usually wear is an extra short gray skirt that barely covers your ass. The black stockings leave nothing to imagination and the black stilettos make your legs look extra delicious.
Luckly you hadn't noticed him in the office hall, so Bucky quickly ran to the toilets to refresh himself and calm down or his 110 year old heart would stop or he would be one od those creepy bosses with a boner and neither of those options sounded good to him.
Bucky walks back slowly to his office and when he opens the door he is met with you standing on a chair your hands in the air your skirt riding up dangerously up.
"Mornin'. May I ask what are you doing?" Bucky tries to keep his voice normal but the "morning" comes out huskier than intended.
"Good Morning, Mr Barnes! Well of course you can ask, I am fixing our air conditioning because there's no way I'll be sitting in this heat without it!" you turn and smile as you answer. Bucky thought he's used to you calling him, Mr Barnes but apparently not.
"How about you let me fix that and you come down from that chair so you don't hurt yourself?"
You look at him, amusment in your face hands on hips but still standing on the chair.
"And sorry to ask but do you know how to fix air-conditioning?" you teasingly say making him smile.
"No but I'm sure I can figure it out." his statements earns him a laugh from you.
"Alright" you say but before you even start stepping down Bucky is there beside the chair holding out his hand, which you look at surprised at the offer, but something changes in your expression and instead of taking his hand you put your arms around his neck and start stepping down. Bucky reacts fast and puts both his hands on your hips helping you down.
When both of your feet touch the ground, you don't move your arms or step away, but Buckys hands don't move either. So you stand there closer than necessary looking at each other for too long. A knock at the door makes two of you jump away from each other.
"Come in" Bucky says after coughing nervously.
A guy around your age in repairman uniform walks in.
"Hello sir. I was called here to check the air conditioning some other aircons aren't working since there was an outage." Bucky glances at you and you just shrug.
"I'll be really quick!"
You two let him do his job and you sit at your tables. Your table is in his office right next to his own, the assistants usually aren't in the same room but Bucky still sometimes needs help so this was just easier than you coming in and out of his office to help him.
Bucky tries hard not to look over to you, but he just can't. He watches you take a sip of your coffee, your lips covering the top of a straw, lipstick staining it. And images wash over him. The ones of you on your knees in front of him, lips swollen, hands on his-
An annoying beeping sound wakes him up from his fantasy.
"There now it's working!" The guy announces, and puts the remote on your table, Buckys pulse quickens when he notices the boy taking in an eyeful of your cleavage.
"Thanks you can leave now." Bucky harshly says making the guy jump and leave in a hurry. While you haven't even taken your eyes off of your screen.
Bucky can't relax even with air conditioning working so he takes off his jacket, and when that wasn't enough he took off his tie but that still wasn't enough so he rolled up his sleeves.
Throughout the day he kept glancing at you but you didn't even once look at him, eyes stuck to the screen. And he was losing composure because every time you moved he would flinch, especially when you leaned down to catch a pen that had fallen.
As the day was coming to an end, your focus was slipping.
"So does your hand ever overheat in the summer?" you ask turning your chair to face him making Bucky chuckl at your sudden question.
"It does actually, but not like it won't work its just too hot to hold it next to my body because it burns. And yes it does get too cold in the winter." He unconsciously flexes the arm.
"How did you know I was going to ask?" you laugh and Buckys heart does a flip.
"You work with someone for a year, you tend to learn a thing or two about them. How come you never asked a out it? The arm I mean, so many people did?" Bucky is curious about it.
"What more can I ask you get asked about it every day and all the questions I have are not appropriate for someone who's my boss."
The tone of your voice changes and he hears your heartbeat pick up.
"And what would you ask if it was appropriate?" Bucky fully turns his chair so now your legs are touching. It takes you a couple of seconds to consider the reply.
"I would ask if you have the same feeling in your fingers, do you feel the temperature difference in your fingers when you're using them on someone. Does it have any special features or something? That's what I would ask. If it was appropriate so I won't ask." You hold eye contact with him and bite your lip.
"Maybe you don't have to ask maybe I could show you."
Bucky stands up suddenly and walks to the door and locks them.
"You made today living hell for me so maybe I should torture you now."
you look at him through your lashes acting all innocent.
"Mr. Barnes don't act like you haven't been teasing me all day too? First you took off your jacket and then tie and rolled up sleeves. You might be from other era but you're not stupid Sergeant . You know what you're doing." you walk up to him and start unbuttoning his shirt, Bucky grabs your hands and stops you.
"You're a brat you know?" you give him a smug smile, which only makes him push you to the edge of the table by the throat. You moan and throw your head back.
Buckys baby blues are now darker and full of desire.
"I need you to tell me in words if you want to stop now."
"No please, touch me, please."
"Safe word baby girl?"
"Staples. I once stapled my finger it hurt I didn't like it." Bucky smiles softly at your explanation.
"Good girl." he places soft kisses on your neck and nibbles your ear as he unbuttons your shirt, making you arch your back.
"Please." you say breathlessly grabbing onto Buckys biceps for support.
"Patience." Bucky says as he removes the shirt and looks at your chest that are covered with white lacy bra. He pinches your peaked nipples over the bra, as you let a small desperate moan.
Bucky takes off your bra with ease.
"Beautiful absolutely stunning." He caresses your breast with his flesh hand and the metal one stayed at your hip. You look at him with desperation and need, and when he meets your eye he grabbs the back of your head and kisses you. The kiss is needy yet soft, his tongue explores your mouth, and you keep trying to grind on him but he won't let you
"You're so beautiful. I've wanted this for so long and you're evil. Wearing this small piece of clothing that barely covers your ass? Been wanting to throw you over the table the second I saw you this morning. You think you can take me now? Been close since morning."
"Oh god yes Sir. Please I'm so wet, I can take it. Please, just fuck me. Fill me up please."
Bucky didn't need to be told twice. He quickly moved your laptop on his table and pushed all the papers on the floor and before bending you over he put his jacket on the corner so your hips didn't get hurt. When Bucky pulled your skirt up he then ripped the stockings off of you.
"Oh god Bucky!" you moan, as Bucky smacks your left cheek.
"Fuck you're dripping." he says as he slides his metal fingers down your thigh collecting the wetness.
"Shit you're so tight." Bucky groans as he watches his fingers easily slide into your folds.
"Please fuck me." You cry out, your pussy clenching on air.
"Oh my god." Bucky smirks at your reaction to his cock. He might not be the biggest out there but the grith.
"Please, you're so big, I need you."
Bucky pushes your back down and spreads your legs by pushing them with his own. He takes his cock and pumps himself a few times before lining himself with your cunt.
"You okay?" He ask, and you reply with an eager nod.
He slowly pushies his tip and it already has you shaking.
"Fuuck me, you're so fucking tight." Bucky moans, and then slowly pushes in just a bit more giving you a couple of minutes to adjust.
"I'm ready please fuck me." Buckys self control is slipping but he starts slow, the room is filled wet sound your pussy makes every time Bucky thrusts, your breaths are short and erratic.
"Harder Bucky. I can take it, use me." and Bucky breaks. He fucks into your mercilessly, his balls hitting your ass. You're holding onto the table so hard your knuckles turning white. Bucky holds your hip with one hand and hair with the other. The room is filled with his groans, your moans, skin slapping and if it wasnt sound proof you would've definitely been caught.
"yes right there Sir. dont stop please im so close. please let me come, I need to come I cant oh god I think im going to die." you beg shamelessly.
"Such a good girl for me. Asking for permission, let go pretty girl." and you do and Bucky is not far behind, he lets you ride your orgasm out before he finally let's himself cum, your pussy squeezing him incredibly tight.
"Shit we made a mess." He slowly pulls out looking down a where his and your release slips down your legs to the office floor.
"Baby you okay?" Bucky asks as he turns you gently and sits you up.
" Damn; give a girl a second to recover after having the most earth shattering orgasm." Bucky laughs breathlessly taking hair that's fell on your face putting it behind your ear.
Bucky lifts you up and sets you down in his massive chair covering you with his shirt and brings you a glass of water.
You watch him as he quickly cleans up the office.
"You okay now? Enough to talk?"
"Yeah"
"I'll start, I want you to know that this wasn't just a fuck for me, you're really dear to me and I dont want you to think you're replacable but its okay if this means nothing to you. I can live with that and if it makes you uncomfortable to work here I'll even write you a recommendation letter with your skills Im sure people will be fighting for you."
"No, stop that, this wasnt nothing for me either. I wanted you for so long and yeah maybe we skipped a few steps but we're not strangers and before you send me off to someone else take me to dinner."
Bucky is relived to hear that and the weight on his shoulders lifted, he really cares about you and you have become his friend over the past year and he would be devastated if he had ruined this whatever it is.So this makes him really happy.
"I can do that, I promise I'll do this properly like a gentleman."
"And maybe after dinner you can show me what that arm can do since we didn't have time for that today."
"You're really impatient." Bucky jokes.
"God forbid a girl wants to ride vibranium arm that's literally one of a kind that's attached to the sexiest soldier to ever exist."
~~~~
The end or is it? Kind of wanna write more for them tbh... even though this is a lot of words for me ahaha
Pairing: Mafia!Bucky Barnes x f!reader (reader is little in the very beginning)
Word count: 7,390
Summary: Bucky's angel finally sees the hidden side of him.
Warnings: details of violence, kidnapping, getting shot, physical abuse by kidnappers, slapping, too much crying, angst
A/N: to all the nonnies that came to me once and asked "what if angel saw bucky beating someone up?" "what if angel gets kidnapped?", this is for you💜 i hope you have a good time with this one, loves x💜
~
Whenever he’d think of her, he’d think of jasmines. Soft, fragrant, pure-looking, fragile, beautiful jasmines. Like jasmines, she released her sweet perfume engulfed by the darkness of his night. Only he got to bask in her aroma. And like a jasmine in autumn, he’d fallen for her evergreen soul and he’d fallen hard.
Bucky knew she saw him through a pink lens. She ate up his lies like candy and although he felt bad, he knew it was for the best. He could visibly see her running out the door whenever he’d imagine someone opening her eyes to how cruel he actually was. It was selfish, but it was easier for him and safer for her this way. Better for both of them.
Luck wasn’t exactly his best friend though.
Bucky would never forget the look in her innocent, teary eyes as she watched him literally beat the life out of a man with all his might. He knew it was fairly stupid of him to do it in the back of his own garage, right next to his house where she was peacefully getting ready to call it a night. But he just couldn’t hold back when he saw the guy’s dumb face when his men brought him in.
“Miss?” She found Roseanne by the door, looking more nervous than usual.
She was shocked, no, terrified at the scene she couldn’t take her eyes away from. How and why was she even here in the first place?
~
Daddy said he’d be back for story time but he hasn’t been back yet. What was taking him so long?
She couldn’t fall asleep if his voice wasn’t lolling her to sleep. She couldn’t fall asleep if it wasn’t in his arms. Life without him just didn’t make sense anymore.
She got out of bed, slipped in her fluffy cat slippers and went on a little quest to find him. Bucky was always happy to see her so he’d forgive her for getting out of bed where he’d expected her to wait.
“Roseanne, have you seen my Bucky?” she asked with a smile.
“I think he’s busy right now, miss. You better wait in your room where it’s warm,” Roseanne tried to tempt her, using the cold as a good reason why she shouldn’t go outside where Bucky was.
The young woman looked distressed, like she was scared of something.
“What’s wrong, Roseanne? Is daddy okay?” she questioned the poor maid, her smile leaving her face.
“Yes, miss. Don’t worry. He’s just a little busy but he’ll be here soon.”
“Is he in the office?”
“I— I don’t know, miss. I think he is,” Roseanne lied.
She tilted her head suspiciously before running to the office to check it out, leaving Roseanne’s pleads for her to get back to the bedroom behind.
It seemed even more suspicious now that Bucky was nowhere to be seen in his office. It didn’t feel right and she had to find Bucky and make sure he was okay. Bucky always knew how to calm all her worries. He knew what to do and what to say.
Bucky protects her and is here for her.
But wait a minute, she didn’t hear his car leave. And if the car didn’t leave then Daddy was certainly in the house, she just missed him while looking.
She roamed the whole mansion, up and down, checking every room twice and she still couldn’t find her daddy.
Her mind was getting cloudier and she was getting more scared. Did daddy leave? Where would he go without letting her know that he’d be leaving? Why didn’t he kiss her forehead goodnight before leaving?
She made her way outside the main door and took sure steps to the large garage, once again taking no regard of Roseanne’s begging, confident in her smart train of thought.
When she arrived at the garage though, the pants she heard startled her to a halt as she ducked behind the black Range Rover.
Was that really Bucky? Her Bucky? Beating up a man to the point where his features weren’t recognizable anymore? That wasn’t possible. Her daddy was a sweetheart. He was the gentlest man she’s ever met and he wouldn’t hurt anyone like that. She knew he was feared because of his work, but he couldn’t kill anyone. Could he?
She peeked around and fell silent as a rock. The sight before her made her feel cold, leaving her poor mind perplexed.
On the first look, she couldn’t fathom what she was looking at. She wanted to look away. She did. But she couldn’t will her head to turn even just a little.
“How stupid do you have to be to think I wouldn’t know you were sent here to hurt my girl?”
A stronger pang hit her little heart when she realized this was happening because of her.
No, this was no bad dream though she’d hoped with all her heart that it was.
She’d made Daddy promise that he wouldn’t hurt anybody on her behalf. He’d promised to choose forgiveness if it was an option. It didn’t make any sense.
Was she too sleepy that she was seeing things? Did her little mind fall asleep without a story anyway and she was having a nightmare?
Sam had seen her first, wide eyes tearing up at the sight of her man smashing another’s face with his fist. He’d tried to tell Bucky, but it was too late. She’d already seen it all.
Those fingers that have ever so tenderly glided across her cheeks time and time again were hidden behind brass knuckles, covered in someone’s blood. That jaw that has only ever tensed from smiling too much around her was clenched, making him look scarier than she could’ve ever imagined him to be. His eyebrows were furrowed and his breaths heavy as he repeatedly and ruthlessly punched the man on the chair.
Her fear intensified when she’d recognized the beaten up man as their newest driver. She remembered him trying to repeatedly ask her if she wanted to go get ice cream with him when Bucky wasn’t home. She also remembered saying no like she was taught. She remembered Bucky promising to choose forgiveness if it was an option again and she saw him break his promise.
“Bucky, enough!” Sam pulled him away from the tied up guy, head nodding to the black vehicle.
Her head went dizzy when she thought of all the men she’d complained to Bucky about since they’d started their relationship. Have they all faced the same fate?
Who was this heaving, bloody-fisted beast before her? Did she ever know Bucky at all? Was he ever truthful about anything he’d told her or was it all just a big lie? How could she trust him with herself ever again? Who was her daddy really?
The walls around Bucky collapsed and he almost collapsed with them when he saw her face. She was there and she’d seen everything. His angel saw it all. His angel was scared. She was scared of him.
“Angeră?”
Her legs no longer wanted to hold her up once she heard his hoarse voice. The air was out of her lungs as she took slow steps back until she pressed herself to one of the grey walls behind her. The stuffie in her hands fell to the ground and with it her heart.
She wanted to run, but her cold body wouldn’t budge. Maybe if she could go back to the house right now, listen to Roseanne, stay in bed, and pretend this never happened, Bucky would miraculously come back with a perfectly healed, clean hand and they would peacefully have a cuddling session while his loving voice told her a story.
“Please don’t hurt me,” she begged, her voice above a whisper as she cowered away from him.
Bucky carefully walked closer, visibly watching her hands tremble. He raised his clean hand to caress her cheek like he always would when she needed him to calm her down.
He wasn’t expecting her to lean into his touch like she was used to, but it still shot daggers to his heart when she flinched, closing her eyes in fear and letting out the tiniest whimper.
“Angel, I’m not gonna hurt you,” Bucky’s broken voice had her heart clenching as she saw him trying to muster up a smile.
“Stay away from me,” she said in panic when he tried to take another step towards her.
“Angeră—”
“Please, Bucky, I’m sorry.”
She didn’t call him daddy or even her Bucky. She couldn’t.
“Baby, let me—”
She shook her head, running away from a shattered Bucky, almost tripping on her own feet.
“Go, we’ll take care of him,” Sam told him, patting his shoulder.
He watched her run as if she was escaping a wild lion, terrified and fearing for her life.
Bucky slammed his fist into the concrete wall where his love once leaned before slipping the brass knuckles off his probably broken fingers and hearing them clank on the ground. He rested both palms on the wall and let his head fall down as he breathed hard.
“Dragă, nu! Te rog, (love, no please)” Bucky begged, his hands grabbing her forearms to stop her from throwing more of her things into the suitcase.
Bucky ran like a mad man on the way to their house. He had no idea what he was going to say or how he was going to justify what she’d just witnessed him do.
She called him Bucky with glossed over eyes. She was bordering on little and he just gave her the trauma of her life. He had no answers to any possible question she might rightfully throw at him. Bucky only knew that he couldn’t lose her; she was the best thing that’s ever happened to him.
He busted through the front door and ran up the stairs only to be met with her frantically packing her things, fat tears soaking her face as she hiccupped out sobs.
“Please let me leave.” Her voice trembled and more tears left her eyes. His right hand had dried blood all over it and it made her skin crawl.
“Please don’t,” Bucky pleaded again, on the verge of crying himself.
“I’m really scared. Please don’t make me stay here,” she begged Bucky, trying to slip out of his grip.
“Angel, please believe me. I will never hurt you,” Bucky swore, his eyes brimming with tears.
“Angel, of course I love you! Please just stay and listen to me, baby.” Tears rolled down Bucky’s cheeks as he took a dress out of her hands before she could pack it.
“Did you ever really love me? Would you really never hurt me? Was anything you ever told me the truth?” Her voice was way too innocent as the questions left her trembling lips.
She didn’t even sound like she was blaming Bucky, she just sounded confused. Disappointed. Hurt.
“I wanna leave. Please let me leave,” she repeated, crying harder as she tried not to let herself crumble down on the floor of their bedroom.
“Angel, please don’t say that.” Bucky shook his head, holding onto her writs for dear life, “I can’t live without you, love. I can’t.”
She looked up at him and the look she gave him let him know she wasn’t little anymore.
Bucky despised himself for making her feel and think that way, “angel—”
“Why did you ever take me? Why did you bring me here?” She asked, the reproach hurting her too, “I didn’t know what love was before you. I trusted you. I trusted you with my heart, Bucky.”
She was saying everything that came to her mind, unable to keep her thoughts inside or else it felt like they might suffocate her. She was mad at herself for letting herself trust and love when she shouldn’t have.
“Are you used to doing this to people? Do you kill people, Bucky?” Her voice broke as she asked, already fearing the answer.
“Angel, please.”
“No, answer me.” Her eyebrows furrowed in sadness, anxious of the reply she was about to receive.
Bucky closed his eyes, not wanting to see her face when he told her his truth, “yes.”
“Yes.” Bucky nodded, hot tears leaving his closed eyes.
Her breath hitched at his answer, making more tears leave his eyes.
“D-Did you do this to the other guys I complained about before, too?”
“Did you kill them?” Her tone fell with her heart.
Bucky only swallowed, going dead silent at her question.
“Oh my god.” She cried, her knees almost giving out as she tried to get her arms free from his grip.
“No, no, angel, I only drove them out of town. They’re alive.” He assured her, leaving out the details about the probable permanent disabilities some of them left town with.
“Why?” She sobbed, her shoulders hurting from squirming in his grasp with no avail.
“They were bothering you.”
“So this makes it okay to kidnap them and beat them up?!” She screamed, her tears never drying up.
“I wanted to protect you,” Bucky whispered, his heart dropping at the realization of how his angel must see him now.
“Protect me from you then and let me go.” Her words shot daggers right into the mafia boss’ chest.
“I can’t believe I loved you so much.” She whispered, mostly to herself, lamenting her foolish, trusting heart.
“Angel, I can’t. You know I can’t.” He knew she was right, but he couldn’t let her leave.
She was his whole world; his life and everything good in it.
“Loved?” Bucky could hear his heart shattering.
“Loved,” she replied despite herself, knowing too well that she was lying.
Bucky finally let her arms go after her confirmation. He knew that if he tried to hold her back now she would only end up hating him. He would rather have her leave him than hate him. He wouldn’t be able to take it.
“I’ll tell the driver to get the car ready so he could take you to your grandma’s,” Bucky told her without looking up, wiping away his tears. For now.
She didn’t reply, and only continued shoving clothes into the bag.
“I just want you to know that I’ll always be here whenever you need me. I will always be yours, angel. Even if you’re no longer mine. I love you and I will love you until the day I die.”
But all of this was nothing compared to the fear that shot up her spine when she heard gunshots making contact with the car she was inside, forcing the driver to stop abruptly.
Bucky’s last words had her sobbing even harder as she fell to her knees the moment he left her alone in the room.
She didn’t want to leave him and she never saw a day like this one coming, but she knew it was only right that she did. They were different from the beginning and she was wrong to let herself live in a daydream for too long. She had no place in Bucky’s world.
~
The drive back to her grandma’s house was torture. The pain of being fooled could only be overruled by the pain of fearing the only man she’s ever loved. She couldn’t ignore the feeling that she was leaving a piece of her behind in the mansion that the car just drove away from. She knew that piece was her heart and she knew that she was most likely never going to get it back. It will forever remain with Bucky.
Her tears kept coming as she silently wept in the backseat.
Pathetic fallacy was at its highest and the skies were sobbing with her. It was cold and the roads were muddy, thunder hitting every now and then, making trees shudder where they were rooted.
She cried more knowing Bucky would no longer be there to hold her through thunderstorms.
The man and the guard next to him got out their own guns but it was too late for them to do anything as another couple of bullets were shot, going right through their heads. The driver fell lifeless, face first on the driving wheel and she felt her heart stop with his.
“Let me go for your own good,” she said, trying to keep her tone confident and her pain veiled.
Before she could even think of a route to run in, a bag was put over her head, her screams futile as she got violently dragged to another vehicle before it all went completely dark with a hit to the back of her head.
~
“I thought we were past that shit, babygirl. Three days didn’t teach you who’s in charge yet?” Lloyd Hansen, Bucky’s biggest enemy, asked her with a provocative smile.
She was in absolute agony.
She let oud a loud, pained scream, desperately trying to pull her arm from underneath his huge shoe.
They’d untied her an hour ago after she claimed she needed the bathroom, a guard on her tail as he led her through the abandoned building.
Once inside the toilet, she managed to pick up the upper part of the toilet seat. She gained the guard’s attention with a scream, going down on his head with the heavy ceramic piece as soon as he opened the door to check on her.
She managed to run as far as the hallway of the floor she was in before a very angry Lloyd grabbed her. She surprised him with a harsh slap across the face, taking the chance to run again when he froze for a second.
Lloyd got even angrier, stretching his leg and knocking one of her feet off the ground, making her fall over. He walked over her crawling body and evilly stepped on her right wrist.
“I can’t wait to kill you,” Lloyd said, not taking his foot off before he heard a snap and a loud screech from her.
Lloyd got hold of her hair, dragging her all the way back to the room where she was previously tied up.
He tied her to the same chair again, only this time one arm got the ropes while the other was left to redden and swell.
Now she was here, on the same chair, throwing empty threats as she’s almost given up hope that Bucky might find her.
“Aww, did you hear that, boys? Little slut right here is worried for our good,” Lloyd mocked her, laughter erupting and filling the room in response.
“You’re not getting out of here, babygirl,” he spat, his voice laced with venom, “this is where you die.”
“Let me go. I won’t say it again.” Her voice almost shivered with her heart at the end of her warning.
She was scared, and in so much pain, but she couldn’t let it show. She wouldn't even cry and was sweating like crazy from the ache in her dangling wrist. She was Bucky Barnes’ girl.
“You’re making the demands now? Not even a “please” to persuade me?” Lloyd moved his face closer to hers, slowly pushing a strand of her hair behind her ear with a smirk, “or do I have to heat you a bottle to get to meet your polite side?”
She felt her face go hot as her eyes filled with tears and she couldn’t stop herself from spitting in the bastard’s face, “fuck you”.
Next thing she knew was his rough hand slapping down hard on her cheek, making her go dizzy. Blood trickled out of her nose and down to her lips right after and she couldn’t hold back her tears this time.
She was tired. Terrified. She needed Bucky.
“Your filthy mouth isn’t anything short of your boyfriend’s, but don’t worry, if you don’t know how to be respectful to your masters I have ways to teach you, and believe me, I can’t wait to start your lessons.” Hansen smirked at her wrist before spitting back at her and leaving with everyone else.
She cried harder than she has ever before, tears and blood mixing. Her body was shivering and her arms aching from being tied up in the most uncomfortable position and smashed down under Lloyd’s boot.
There was no way out for here, was there?
She knew she was done for and she didn’t have any last wishes except for getting to tell Bucky that she loved him and that she will never stop loving him one last time.
She couldn’t even pay her pain or blood any attention when all she could think about was Bucky and how he would have never let anything like that happen to her.
She remembered his soft smile that only she got to meet. The way he’d lean forward to engulf her in a hug momentarily warmed her before the iciness of the empty room made her shiver again.
She didn’t dare linger on Bucky, however.
It’s been exactly 3 days and 21 hours since his angel left him and he still couldn’t believe it.
She left him. She left and now she was here in some old factory under some asshole’s mercy. She couldn’t escape the situation she was in no matter how hard she tried. She couldn’t give her mind any kind of relief. There was none. Before she realized, her head was falling forward and she was getting a temporary break from reality.
~
“Bucky, are you o—” Sam cut himself off when his sight landed on his best friend’s face.
Bucky’s eyes were red with yet to be shed tears, again.
His car never reached her grandma’s because his men were murdered on the way. His angel was no where to be found and neither was Bucky’s will to live.
He kept telling himself that it wasn’t true, that she was at work; that she would eventually come back and sleep in his arms again.
However, she didn’t even call. Didn’t even look at his multiple texts. She really was missing and Bucky couldn’t face it. Between denial and heart wrenching pain, he buried himself 9 feet under.
He’s looked everywhere, asked everyone, but still couldn’t find her. It was as if she’s disappeared, turned to air.
Bucky has deserted their bedroom ever since she walked out of the mansion, the bed still as messy as she left it after she dragged the sheets down with her packed bag. Every time Bucky would enter the room he would see her leaving him, so he’d stopped. That couldn’t be his last memory of her. He slept on the couch in his office now, if at all.
And soon enough, the Bucky he used to be when she was around was dead and another angrier, more violent and very impatient Bucky had replaced him. He was always mad, at everyone and everything. And he was drinking every night, sitting on his bar for as long as he could, just to get himself hammered enough to fall in a deep unconsciousness where he didn’t have her scared eyes invading his dreams.
Sam was seriously worried for him, but there was nothing he could do; no advice he could offer. Nothing would bring that Bucky back as long as his angel was gone.
Bucky’s wallowing and Sam’s overthinking were interrupted when Bucky’s phone rang, vibrating on the ceramic floor. Bucky quickly crawled over to it, hardly believing his eyes when he saw her name in the place of the caller ID.
“Angeră?” he answered, his voice hoarse from staying silent for too long.
“Awww, you call her angel?” the voice on the other side mocked.
“Who the fuck is this?” Bucky asked, standing up slowly as his anger and worry forced him to sober up.
“You know too damn well who this is,” Lloyd answered, his smile evident in his tone as he knew he had Bucky by the throat.
“Where is she?” Bucky asked immediately.
“Tied up somewhere cold.”
“I swear on my life, if you touch her—”
“Relax, she can take a few scratches,” he replied, chuckling as if it was a joke.
“You son of a bitch!” Bucky shouted, losing his mind at the mere image of his angel being hurt.
“I’d watch my mouth if I were you, Barnes,” he snarled confidently.
“What do you want?” Bucky asked through his teeth, just wanting to get to his girl as quickly as possible.
“Let me hear her voice.”
“No,” Lloyd chuckled.
“I wanna destroy you.” Hansen laughed.
“Let her go. She has nothing to do with this.” Bucky tried his best not to sound desperate but it was obvious that he was begging for his girl’s safety.
“That’s where you’re wrong, B. She has everything to do with this.” Lloyd walked into the room where she was with a smug smile.
“Let her go.” please
“If you sound so distraught just because I’d hogged her for a couple of days, imagine how you’ll be when I erase her off the face of the earth,” Hansen said, laughing at the thought of hurting Bucky this bad.
Her face toughened up at the realization that it was Bucky on the phone.
“If you do as much as touch a hair on her head, I’m gonna kill you and everyone you know,” Bucky promised, his heart hammering in his chest as he hastily started moving.
“I might’ve broken a bone or two, but that’s only because she was a bad girl.”
“You’re dead, Hansen. Fucking dead!” Bucky promised, throwing the bottle he was drinking from across the room.
“We’ll be waiting with popcorn.” He hung up on Bucky, laughing.
“He’s gonna kill you.” She smiled once he hung up, making Lloyd grab her hair.
She hissed, trying not to show she was in pain.
“Not if I kill him first, angeră.” Lloyd spat, throwing her head forward before leaving the room.
She was horrified at the thought of anything bad happening to Bucky, but she willed her heart to trust in him. She had no time to ponder but she was actually proud of the fact that Bucky could so easily end this awful, evil man and she couldn’t wait for him to do just that.
Still, she waited for him. Something inside of her told her Bucky would never abandon her, not even to death. So she waited. Waited with the longing of all the lovers that ever were until longing had exhausted her.
~
It was like a slow motion dream. Doors being kicked down, guns being fired and her Bucky entering the room with a man’s body held in his left fist by the neck.
Instead, Bucky found Hansen and smacked him so hard with his metal hand that a tooth flew out. He slapped him again and his nose was bleeding. They made eye contact one more time and she noticed the difference for the first time. That wasn’t Bucky. It wasn’t her Bucky. His eyes still softened for her but the hint of revenge in them was more dominant.
He doesn’t even talk; doesn’t negotiate. He doesn’t even ask for her to be released. He doesn’t need to.
His men were getting everything done. His only mission was to look for her now. His eyes met hers but he didn’t start walking towards her like she’d expected he would.
She thought she would be afraid meeting Bucky again after what she’d witnessed him do, but she actually didn’t. Not even a tiny bit.
She was rather happy, the feeling that she was safe again warming up her body so much that she’d started sobbing.
It was like no matter how long they were away from each other, they were still together, never estranged from one another.
Bucky was on his 40th slap/punch on the man’s bloody face when he noticed her crying. He temporarily threw the man’s tired body on the ground and rushed to his girl.
He kneeled before her shaking body, wanting nothing but to make sure she wasn’t hurt.
And she was.
She looked up and could still see the coldness in his eyes despite hers being blurred by tears.
“I missed you. Is my Bucky okay?” She asked, her voice drained but not scared like Bucky had feared and expected.
“Let’s get you home, angeră,” he replied, saving his answer for now as he noticed the finger marks on her cheek.
She nodded desperately, her tied hand reaching for him despite being behind her back.
“Stop right there,” Lloyd said, crocking his gun at Bucky.
“Bucky,” she whimpered, eyes glued to her man, her anchor.
“E în regulă, angera meu, (it’s okay, my angel)" Bucky replied, getting closer to her and sticking to her side.
“No, it’s not. He’s lying to you. Just like he’s lied to you about everything else,” the man chuckled.
“Shut up,” she whispered, trying to calm down her breathing.
“Give it up, Hansen. I beat you. Again and for the last time. You’re done.” Bucky racked the slide of his gun.
“He never loved you. Do you even know who he is most of the time?” Lloyd continued, not willing to give up until Bucky was reduced to nothing before him.
“Shut up,” she repeated, wishing her hands were free so that she could cover her ears with them.
“Do you have any idea about the other side of this man you gave yourself to you poor little thin—”
“Shut up!” She shouted with all her might, “don’t speak about him like that.”
“Do you even know what you’re defending?” Hansen yelled at her with a crazy, bloody smile on his face.
“I know,” she answered calmly, “I know everything.”
Bucky looked at her in surprise, not believing what he just heard. There was no way she knew. How would she know? How would she choose to stay if she actually knew?
“Oh so you know about frosty over here?” Hansen smirked, pointing to his head.
“I do,” she answered once more, her answer shocking Bucky yet again.
“Angel?”
“It’s okay, Bucky. I promise.” She sincerely promised, making it hard for Bucky not to tear up in the middle of the room.
“Aww, how sweet—” Hansen cooed and in a second 3 of Bucky’s bullets were in his head, neck and chest before he could say anything else.
She gasped, closing her eyes and turning her face away from the body as it collapsed on the floor with a thud.
She didn’t notice that Hansen had landed a shot at Bucky before he collapsed and Bucky didn’t even flinch as a bullet literally made it through his right shoulder. He didn’t feel the pain. He didn’t care about anything but his angel.
She was the only thing he could see and hear. Her wounds were his pain more than his own.
Bucky wordlessly kneeled down and untied her quickly. His gaze was glued to her wrists for a second before he rubbed the one that wasn’t swollen with his smoother thumb.
“What happened?” Bucky asked, referring to her other wrist.
“I'm gonna need a doctor to look at it.” Was all she gave him for an answer.
He silently opened his arms for her and she threw herself in them without an ounce of hesitation, crying more now that she was home.
She was so scared she wouldn’t get to feel like this again. She let herself let go. She then closed her eyes and finally succumbed to the cozy darkness now that she was safe.
Instead, Roseanne looked at her with a teary smile, “welcome back, miss.”
She lost all sense of consciousness that she didn’t hear Bucky shoot the man’s dead body a fourth and a fifth time with her in his arms as he took another look at her wrists.
~
When she opened her eyes again, she was back in Bucky’s bed, but Bucky wasn’t by her side.
“Roseanne, I missed you so much,” she replied, unable to stop her own tears.
“Thank goodness you’re okay,” Roseanne said, breaking the hug to let her rest her back.
She invited Roseanne for a hug with her good arm as she noticed the other was in what looked like a cast.
Lloyd had broken her wrist.
“Mr. Barnes is in his office,” she told her while adjusting the pillow behind her when she noticed her eyes roaming the spacious room.
“Is he mad?” she asked, more tears gathering in her tired eyes.
“At himself, maybe.” Roseanne shrugged politely.
“Please help me go to him, Roseanne.”
“One more thing though.” Roseanne chew on her lip.
“What’s wrong?”
He didn’t know what he would’ve done with himself if something had happened to her and he kept blaming himself as he sat there with his right arm in a sling.
“Mr. Barnes has been shot.”
~
Bucky didn’t care to look when the door to his office opened, not knowing that she was awake and too busy wiping his tears of regret.
He’s been like this since he got her home and in his bed again. His tears were unstoppable now that he saw the results of his lifestyle on the one girl he chose and held closest to his heart. In fact, he cried more every time he took a look at her angelic figure tiredly sleeping in his large bed as the doctor patched up her broken wrist.
She was so small, so pure and so so good for this world. Her face was fainter and the spark was gone and he was sure Lloyd didn’t feed her. The fading finger marks she had on her cheek, the rope burns around her wrists and ankles and the cast around her forearm slashed new wounds at his heart.
“Bucky,” she called out faintly, her head and body still aching a little, heart dropping when she saw him with his arm hanging, “are you okay?”
He stood up and helped her sit in his chair, not sure if it was okay for him to carry her and sit her on his desk like he usually would.
He hastily wiped his eyes with his hand to look at his baby.
“Hi, angel,” he tried to say with a smile but his voice cracked as another tear escaped down his red cheek.
She surprised him by using his chair as a step to get on top of his desk, pointing to the chair for him to sit back down.
Bucky was on eye level with the marks on her ankles as she settled her bare feet on his lap.
What was he going to say now that she was awake? And most importantly, what was she going to say?
“My Bucky,” she could recognize the difference between this man and the man who started her rescue right away.
Bucky was stunned to see she could see it despite everything. He didn’t want her to ever find out about that side of him and it killed him even more that she caught the difference. How on earth did she find something like this out?
“All yours, angel.” He tried to compose himself, for her.
She couldn’t bare seeing him like this. It was like she’s forgotten about everything that happened before this very moment and all she could do was sit up and hold his face to lovingly wipe his sorrows away with her left hand.
It was enough time away from Bucky.
“I’m okay, Bucky. I’m okay,” she tried to reassure him, only making him cry harder as the dam broke when she rubbed his shoulder.
“Iarta-ma, iubita mea. Te rog. Iarta-ma. (forgive me, my love. Please, forgive me)" He sobbed, moving his lips to the palms of her hands to leave wet kisses all over the reddened skin.
“I’m okay, I swear,” she repeated, not knowing what to do or say.
“I forgive you. Please don’t cry; we’re good,” she said it to him in the kindest tone like it was the easiest thing to say.
“I’m so sorry. I’m sorry for everything. I will spend the rest of my life making it up to you if you give me the chance to. Please, love,” Bucky cried like a child in her lap.
No, he couldn’t even remember a time when he cried like this as a child despite all that he’d gone through. He didn’t care though. He was going to do whatever it took for his angel’s forgiveness. He disappointed her, broke her heart and risked her life. Bucky was going to beg until the end of time if he could.
Bucky shook his head, crying harder, “no, you’re good. You’re too good to me, angel. Too good. I don’t deserve it. I don’t deserve you. Never did.”
It sent a knife to his heart that she still sincerely called him her Bucky after everything she’s been through just because he was in her life; because he was selfish enough to bring her into his without a care.
He was still beating himself up over it. And how could he not when everything terrible that’s ever happened to her had happened because of him? He traumatized her more than anyone ever could have and he’s gotten her hurt time and time again.
This girl who’s made him feel like he could stand against the whole world all by himself with no fear just because she called him her lover. This girl who taught him loyalty, kindness and love and was now teaching him forgiveness. This girl was sitting before him with a broken wrist and heart telling him not to worry about it.
“Don’t say that, please. I’m alive right now thanks to you, my Bucky.” Her own tears rolled down her cheeks before she could stop them.
She loved him more than anything and wished she could make him see that. Oh how she was dying to make him see how safe and loved he made her feel.
“You mean you were taken and hurt thanks to me.” Bucky casted his eyes down, too ashamed to even look at her marked face.
“Bucky—”
“I get it if you still wanna leave me. And I will let you. I would never make you do anything you don't want. I just want you to know that I never lied to you about my love for you. You’ve been and still are the realist thing in my life, angel. Everything I said and did was true. I adore you.”
“Bucky, I—”
“I know it’s selfish to choose to speak about this now, but I’m afraid you’d leave before I get to tell you how in love with you I really am,” he sniffled, wiping his eyes again in vain before looking up at her, “I would die without you. Your love owns me, heart and soul. But.. if leaving me is what you choose.. and if leaving me will make you safe, I will accept it. I just need you to know that I’ve never lied to you. Angel, you are my whole life. You’re my one and only. I belong to you. I’m yours and I will die yours.”
She was speechless, too taken aback to stop herself from crying harder. Bucky’s never opened up to her about his feelings before. Not like this.
“Bucky, I love you,” she managed to whisper before he cut her off again. Before she could tell him that she felt the same way, that she was all his and will forever be his, that only him ruled over her heart.
“You don’t have to say that, angel—”
“Let me speak,” she demanded, her palm cupping his wet cheek as she grabbed him a tissue from his desk.
He nodded, biting his lip and bracing himself for the harshest ‘but’, preparing to get his heart ripped out of his chest.
“I don’t wanna leave you,” was the first thing she could get herself to say, desperately wanting to soothe his thumping heart.
Bucky’s eyes filled with more tears because he knew he didn’t deserve her.
“I forgive you. I want to tolerate this dangerous life because it lets me have you; be with you, which is the only place I ever wanna be.” She took a deep breath, her own tears continuing to fall as she wiped his.
“Baby,” Bucky whispers, hating to see her tears yet again.
“I knew you weren’t the nicest guy to others and I knew your line of business wasn’t the safest either. I just— it freaked me out when I actually got to see you inside of it. I couldn’t believe my eyes.”
Bucky lowered his head in shame again.
“In my head, especially when little, you’re incapable of hurting. In my eyes, you’re safety, Bucky. You’re home.” She brought his eyes back to hers with a hand on his cheek.
“I’m sorry, love,” Bucky was quick to apologize but she shook her head in reply.
“It might take me some time to get used to everything now that I know everything. But it didn’t affect my love for you, Bucky. Not one bit. I lied. I was so scared I would die without getting to tell you that. I still loved you more than ever even in that moment with your fist against another man’s cheek, and I guess that scared me even more. Because it was unlike the me I thought I knew. But this me, right here, is madly in love with you and she doesn’t care about anything other than being by your side for ever.”
“Angel,” Bucky sobbed, holding her hand to his lips, leaving appreciative, wet kisses on her palm, “you won’t regret it, baby, I promise. This is the last time you get hurt. I would die before I let anything like this ever happen to you again.”
“I know, and I trust you, my Bucky. If you’d give me time and if you’ll have me, I wanna be with you every moment of my life, forever.” She couldn’t not throw herself inside his arms, needing the closeness to reassure her this was real.
“I love you so much,” he whispered, holding her on his lap as tight as he possibly could.
“Lucky me,” she whispered in his shoulder.
Bucky felt himself coming alive again at the smell of jasmines in her hair and the feel of her warm body in his hold. She was a piece missing from him and now that she was back, he wasn’t going to waste a second without worshiping the steps she walked.
“I know I might need a while, but that doesn’t change anything. I still love you with my whole heart, Bucky,” she reassured, squeezing him to her even more.
“Take all the time you need, angel. I’ll be right here. I’ll wait forever if I have to.”
“Promise me something though.”
“Anything.”
“No more killing people on my behalf.”
“What if they have a gun pointed at you?”
“Okay, only in that case then because it’s self-defense.”
“I promise.” Bucky smiled, sliding her hair behind her ear before kissing her forehead.
She pressed her forehead to his with a smile, “thank you.”
“We’re injury buddies now,” she joked when they pull away making Bucky laugh out loud for the first time in days.
“Does it hurt, angel?”
"Mine doesn't hurt, you?" He kissed her covered wrist gently.
"Does it hurt?"
They both asked at the same time, making each other laugh.
“Not as much anymore,” she replies, not wanting to remember how much it hurt when she was tied up in the cold room.
“Let’s eat so you could take your pain meds.” Bucky offered her his metal hand and she took it with her good one with a content smile.
~
Everything was going to be okay again. She knew it. Her hand was back in Bucky's and there was nothing their love wouldn't be able to pass. This might not be the Bucky she got in a relationship with, but it was the Bucky she wanted and was going to continue it with.
He was still and was always going to be her bucky.
Warnings: daddy kink, reader is called babygirl multiple times, reader has an oral fixation, oral (Bucky receiving, obviously), dom/sub dynamic, short
You love sucking Bucky’s dick. Or putting anything in your mouth, really. But especially Bucky’s dick. You’ll wake up before him and sneak under the covers, pull his cock out and spit on it before taking it in your mouth.
Which is what you’re doing right now.
You rub in your saliva before taking him as deep as you can, bobbing your head up and down. Bucky stirs in his sleep before opening his eyes, lifting the covers to find you performing your favorite activity. His hand tangles in your hair, “shit, babygirl. You really love daddy’s cock don’t you?” You hummed around him in agreement, gripping his meaty thighs.
“Fuck, that’s it. Such a good girl. Sucking dick like that…” the brunette thrusted his hips up into your mouth, moaning. He knew he was getting close to his finish.
“Fuck, babygirl. I’m gonna cum.” The soldier warned, before spilling his release down your throat. You swallowed it like a good girl and pulled off of him, smiling.
