urnos1girl

she/her 21

[urfavgirllll]

𝑯𝒆𝒚! 𝑾𝒆𝒍𝒄𝒐𝒎𝒆 𝒕𝒐 𝒎𝒚 𝒃𝒍𝒐𝒈! 𝑨 𝒇𝒆𝒘 𝒕𝒉𝒊𝒏𝒈𝒔 𝒊’𝒅 𝒍𝒊𝒌𝒆 𝒕𝒐 𝒔𝒂𝒚 𝒃𝒆𝒇𝒐𝒓𝒆 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒄𝒐𝒏𝒕𝒊𝒏𝒖𝒆 𝒊𝒔 𝒕𝒉𝒂t my blog is mostly smut 𝒔𝒐 𝒎𝒊𝒏𝒐𝒓𝒔 𝒈𝒕𝒇𝒐!. 𝑾𝒊𝒕𝒉 𝒕𝒉𝒂𝒕 𝒃𝒆𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒔𝒂𝒊𝒅, 𝑨𝒍𝒍 𝒐𝒇 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒄𝒉𝒂𝒓𝒂𝒄𝒕𝒆𝒓𝒔 𝑰 𝒘𝒓𝒊𝒕𝒆 𝒇𝒐𝒓 𝒂𝒓𝒆 𝒂𝒈𝒆𝒅 𝒖𝒑 (𝒊𝒇 𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒚 𝒂𝒓𝒆𝒏'𝒕 𝒂𝒍𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒅𝒚 𝒐𝒇 𝒂𝒈𝒆)

About me

Master list

Marvel

Bucky Barnes

Thought 1

Thought 2

Thought 3

Thought 4

Thought 5

Thought 6

Thought 7

Loki

Thought 1

[quakee4eva]

Hi so if Bucky dies in Doomsday just know I am going down with him

[urfavgirllll]

Im so pissed all Spider-Man tickets until the last week of august are sold out

[taw-k]

Hc: one of the ONLY scars Loki has, as he's an Asgardian that heals very quickly, is on his chest from when he was impaled by Kurse. Since he was literally dying his body didn't have time to heal it properly so it came out a little messy and left a scar.

It always shocked me how in all those shirtless Thor scenes he has not one scar, and he was way more reckless and war hungry than Loki "in his youth"

So not one scar, really? I guess it means scaring an Asgardian is extremely difficult so that's why I hc that Loki has a couple scars from the times he's almost died, maybe some scratches from hitting shards of the bifrost bridge when he fell or like I said a huge one on his chest. We know he was actually stabbed and we know they intended to kill him off in the movie but fans didn't like it so it was obviously real, he was DYING but somehow his body managed to save him.

Does anyone have any Loki/Thor scar HC's?

[incorrectstevebucky]

bucky posed like an angry wife ready to greet his husband

[pinksplace]

bound by desire

Day Seventeen of Pinktober: Bondage

Warnings: not shibari bc I don’t know enough but it’s bordering on it! crotch rope, bondage, predicament bondage, use of vibrator, overstim, soft!dom bucky, not even a little proofread, Bucky canonically uses a soft hemp rope bc I said so MDNI 18+ seriously minors last warning

Word Count: 1.5k (I have no self control)

title from the wonderful @juniebjonesin !!!!

It’s everywhere.

Your entire body is stripped, just cotton panties and the stretches of soft rope across your skin.

He’s started at your chest, knotting the rope together over your sternum. He curled it, expertly weaving it around your breasts and under your shoulders. You’d felt him connect it in the back, pulling two sections of rope over your shoulders until they formed straps. Then he pulled. The rope going taut against your skin as its shape suddenly became clear to you. A harness.

You should have realized you were out of your depth then.

Instead your thighs clenched, and you willingly presented your arms behind your back to be tied as well. The rope curls over your wrists, creeping up your forearms, like Ivy. It does the same to your legs, growing up from the floor and attaching them to the legs of the chair.

“Can you move at all?” He asks.

You try tentative squirms against the vines, there’s no give your thighs can’t even close half an inch with the way he has you set. “What about your hips.” he asks.

Oh.

You’d almost forgotten.

The rope between your legs, fixed over your hips like a belt. It’s tight, digging in slightly to the softness of your belly, but it’s not uncomfortable, not yet at least. Like jeans fresh out of the washer. Over your cunt rests a stretch of with a simple overhand knot notched against your clit.

You cant your hips, making the knot drag hard and fast across your clit. The knot pulls from the front to the back, then over again. The pleasure is sharp, nearly painful with how tight the friction is.

The gasp comes from your toes.

Bucky grunts, a satisfied smile curling at the edge of his lips. “You still want to do this?” He asks, fingers tracing over the rope around your middle. A soft kiss lands on your shoulder, his broad chest warm and comforting against your back.

“I’m good.” You promise, “I asked for this remember?”

Bucky’d been asked to teach the team some basic restraints, handcuff ties, easy chair ties. He’d gone over every knot like a Boy Scout, explaining the best way to tie it, and the best way to get out of it. When he’d gotten to you, pulled your wrists together and laced them through rope, you couldn’t help the full body shiver. Then he pulled it tight and you had to bite your tongue to stop the whimper that bubbled up your throat.

The dream began to take root.

He’d told you later that night, how he had learned them all slowly. Some working at the marina as a kid, others during basic, refined them all during his time as the soldier.

Curious, wrists still humming where the rope was, you couldn’t help the question that rolled off your tongue.

“Ever use them for fun?”

As if admiring his work, Bucky runs his hand along it, thumb sliding between the rope and your skin as he follows it down your navel to your folds.

His breath hitches, the wetness catching on his fingers is unmistakable, the rope already damp with it. He pulls away, the rope snapping back into place against your clit.

It feels like a shock, your body jolting as it lands. A pathetic whimper slips through your lips, behind your back your fingers twitch, reaching for him even when you know it’s impossible.

Your brain feels fuzzy, far away almost. Like every thought is watered down, your processing capabilities reduced to understanding three things. Bucky, the rope, and the throb of your clit.

Bucky’s eyes are painted with devotion, an underlying reminder that you are in charge, despite all of the power he wields in this moment.

“Comfortable?” He asks.

You hum, body thrumming with anticipation. The knowledge that a single twist of your hips could push you over the edge into pleasure or pain. Or both.

A kiss on your lips, gentle and loving, juxtaposing the binds he’s tied you in. It makes you melt, reservations ebbed away by the weight of your trust in him. Even greater, your want.

Something shifts when he pulls away. It’s almost imperceptible, the dilation of his pupils, the tightening of his jaw, the soft whirring of his arm as his hand flexes.

He walks away, shoulders rigid like it takes all of his willpower. Across the room he pour himself a glass, three fingers of whiskey. When he turns back to you, he brings it to his lips, drinking both you and the liquor in.

The weight of gaze spreads across you like a wildfire, burning your skin, shrouding you in warmth. It sparks the kindling in your belly, a blaze from the inside out.

Your hips twitch, unconscious and ruining. The knots drags against your clit again, even harder this time. You catch yourself half way, holding your weight off the chair before it can pass back over your clit. Then the realization sets in, your thighs beginning to burn almost immediately. You’re trapped in the rope, a decision to hold your weight or sit back onto the knot.

Bucky tilts his head, a smile playing at his lips behind the glass. “Still comfortable baby?” He teases.

You huff, forcing yourself to relax back down onto the chair. You move slowly, which only makes the pressure even more torturous, just enough to make your breath hitch without giving you any real friction.

Across the room, Bucky puts the glass down, and grabs something else you hadn’t seen yet. It’s rubber, almost shaped like a bar of soap, a soft slope in the center.

As if he’s adjusting a piece of your tactical gear, Bucky nonchalant in his movements. He slides the toy between the rope and the chair, letting the slope of it hug your cunt and the knot pressed against it.

Then he retreats, back to his drink. Without sparing you a second glance he grabs his phone.

“Bucky-“ you’re cut off by the toy buzzing to life. The vibration goes straight to your bones, carrying through the rope like it’s a live-wire. You nearly choke on your moan, the sound of surprise bouncing off the walls.

It intensifies, roaring louder as Bucky swipes his finger across the screen.

The combination of the vibrations and the pressure of the knot have you gasping for air, chest heaving already. You haven’t even cum and you already feel overstimulated, if it weren’t for the rope you’re sure you’d be shaking.

Your hips lift again, too desperate to get away from the whelming sensation that you’ve already forgotten when happens when you pull.

You buckle, throwing yourself back down as the rope moves against you, the fire in your stomach turning your nerves to molten lava.

“Bucky!” You cry out, breathless and already so tired. “Oh my god!”

The way you land pushes the vibrator even harder against you than before, trapping your clit right against it.

Before you can even realize you’re close, you’re cumming. White hot and painful as it crashes over you. You can hardly breathe as it passes over you, every muscle taut against your bonds as you’re forced to ride it out completely still.

Then as it passes, the vibration stays.

Your eyes snap back to Bucky’s, unfocused and glassy, body still thrashing through the after shocks.

You realize, as Bucky stays unmoving, not even looking towards his phone, that the only way to make it stop, to escape the overstimulation is to hold yourself off of it.

That’s why he made it so you could lift your hips.

As if he watches the realization dawn on your face, Bucky chuckles, low and dark into his drink.

“Gotta pick baby.” He tells you. “What do you wanna torture? Your thighs or that pretty pussy?”

Your hips lift, desperate for a reprieve. Your relief is palpable, suddenly the ache in your legs feels like nothing compared to the intensity of what your clit just endured. You could probably last ten minutes like this if you really focus, you think. At least long enough for your body to calm down, maybe long enough for him to get bored of this and pull the vibrator away-

Bucky walks back to you, and with his drink still in hand. Interrupting all your clever planning, he sprays his palm down over your pelvis and pushes down. With a single move he presses you flush against the vibrator again, holding you against it as you try to buck away, ignoring the sting of the crotch rope as you try to fight his strength.

Drink still in hand, Bucky watches you, taking a sip as you try to resist him.

“Never said you were gonna pick.” He tells you.

You whimper, head rolling over the back of the chair, nails digging into your own palms as another orgasm claims you, just as punishing as the first. Bucky’s eyes are intent, cataloging every move and noise and pull of the rope.

“You were right.” He whispers, lifting his hands and smiling when your hips twitch back up, the rope pulling taut. “This is fun.”

Pinktober Masterlist

Main Masterlist

My highest BDSM quiz score! love you all and hope you like it <3

Taglist: @alex-cheraya @seraphina-barnes @its-carlerrr @pestoluvr8 @strawbvrrystrgirl @nothing-behindher-eyes @purple-soldier @shadeaave @x-fanaccount1-x @youvebeenbrekkered @avgdestitute @billieatusn-blog @aeriwifee @mistalli @bad-wolf1991 @star-yawnznn @absinthe-xxx @lilbloggs @j23r23 @ssasa-romanoff

[cherrywineisawaltz]

Bucky Barnes is using that metal arm to lock your shit down. Beard rubbing on the sensitive skin of your inner thighs, fingers pistoning in and out of your squelching cunt while he’s got the heavy metal sitting on your hips, not even pushing down, just letting it sit heavy on your tummy while you’re helplessly thrashing against his tongue. Can’t even kick up off the bed, your hips aren’t lifting an inch with that heavy metal resting on your hip bone, bruising as he’s curling his fingers up into you, pressing long tongue stroking kisses on your aching clit.

[ratdesire]

Saw someone say they think the person in the foreground of this shot is Steve and if it is it makes the poses and expressions on Sam + Bucky's faces so much funnier.

[caeruleusbarnes]

imagine waking up one morning, the sun gently warming your face as you turn over, expecting your husband’s side of the bed to be cold like it usually is, only to find him still dead asleep next to you.

To others, it might seem like a couple spending a cozy morning in bed together, but panic creeps up your spine so quickly your heart nearly beats out of your chest because this isn’t like your man at all.

Usually, Bucky is up and out of bed with the sun rise, as he never really managed to get rid of the habits he developed as a soldier.

Sure, he always comes right back to bed when he notices you’re waking up, ready to spoil you with cuddles and fresh coffee first thing in the morning, but this isn’t something that has ever happened before. Bucky never sleeps in, not even after a long and grueling mission or when he isn’t feeling well. Now, it’s 9 am already, and you can’t help but carefully shake his shoulder, trying to wake him up as gentle and calm as possible even though you are anything but.

“Buck?” Your voice isn’t much more than a whisper, but the urgency hidden underneath makes his eyelashes flutter immediately. “Everything okay?”

The sound that slips past his lips is definitely not one you would expect from a super soldier like him, a whine more than it is a groan.

“No,” he complains, blindly reaching for you so he can tug you closer and nuzzle his face against your stomach, voice muffled against the fabric of your shirt now. “You are a crazy woman, you know that? I won’t ever recover again. This is it.”

It takes you a moment to understand what the hell he is talking about, but when do, you can’t help the laugh that escapes you, your fingers comfortingly running through his hair. “That bad, huh?”

”Bad? I’m broken, sweetheart. Leave it up to you to completely wreck a super soldier. Not that I’m complaining, though.”

“Of course you’re not,” you agree, your thoughts going back to how good you’d made him feel last night, finding out just how much his enhanced stamina could actually handle, making him take you until your husband couldn’t give anymore.

Turns out, testing just how often your man can cum in one evening is enough to leave him spent and exhausted like nothing else ever manages to wear him out.

And if that is enough to give him a break from the buzzing energy usually running through his nerves?

Yeah, you are definitely going to do it again.

(yeah that’s it I think this is my sign to go to bed now.)

[urfavgirllll]

Saw this in a tik tok comment section beefy bucky we will always love you ❤️

[itzzkaylaaa]

⬩ Celebrating fifteen years of SEBASTIAN STAN as JAMES BUCHANAN BARNES in the Marvel Cinematic Universe

[phoenix-in-writing]

Mind Your Manners ⋆˚࿔

Pride 03 | Bucky Barnes x Reader

⭑Prompt.ᐟ "Begging doesn't suit me." For @theoracleofsin's Summer of Sin event ꨄ︎ ⭑Summary.ᐟ After a mission in which you needed to call in a favor you were less than grateful for, Bucky shows you that you really should both respect your elders and mind your manners ⭑Warnings.ᐟ MDNI 18+ SMUT, edging, brief mention of reader being tied to headboard, established relationship, Bucky Barnes is a problem ™️ ⭑Word Count.ᐟ 642 ⭑Phoenix Chirps.ᐟ Already falling behind, but I really couldn't pass up this prompt. Hoping to catch up in the next few days or so 💗

"Begging doesn't suit me I'm afraid, Sergeant."

It was meant as a joke, said in the heat of battle after Bucky teasingly asked you to say please as you lovingly demanded another round of ammo.

Now, it didn't feel much like a joke, now that the battle ended in victory and you were left with nothing but heat. Like you had somehow said a phrase that unlocked something primal you weren't aware existed in your boyfriend's DNA.

The second your boots had hit the helipad of the Watchtower, you were lifted off the ground once more like you weighed nothing and thrown over a strong vibranium shoulder. At the time, you thought you would be enjoying the usual celebratory ritual - a shared shower with teasing touches, being wrapped in freshly washed sheets in an explosion of passion, with a slight pause for food before falling asleep with Bucky still rutting into you. Yet this time, the teasing continued far longer than anticipated.

He had your legs spread wide to accommodate his shoulders, fingers digging into your muscles that had once been straining to clamp shut now weakly convulsing under his expert touch. Along the way, your wrists had been bound by bed sheets, and somehow tied to the headboard in an effort to keep you where he wanted.

Your mind didn't seem to know what to do with itself, scrambling to connect dots on how you ended up being pushed to the edge only to be pulled back from it just as quick.

"Buck - ah - Bucky what are you doing?" you finally asked, head lolling to the side to look down at him after he withdrew the warmth of his mouth from your aching pussy. The pulsating close to embarrassing as you felt yourself squeeze in around emptiness in a desperate attempt to cross a finish line that kept moving.

His eyes flicked to yours ever so briefly before focusing back at the mess of arousal between your thighs. "Teaching you some manners," he stated so matter of fact, he may as well have been scolding you for taking his last protein bar. "Gave you my last few bullets and you didn't even say please or thank you."

You felt the warm press of his tongue once again on your clit, a slow curl of the tip dipping barely in your entrance before massaging the oversensitive bundle of nerves with a cool metal thumb.

More slick trickled from your cunt onto the sheets and his beard, but Bucky didn't seem to care to stop, unless his super soldier senses could tell you were on the brink of orgasm.

The two remaining brain cells you had sparked the memory of your words, frustration gripping hold that he would have kept you teetering all night had you not asked for clarification. So much so, tears began pricking at your waterline, emotions becoming muddled.

"Please," you whimpered in desperation, sounding incredibly weak for someone who had just taken down several members of an opposing faction by themselves. "Please, Bucky, I can't - "

"That's my girl," he whispered in satisfying warmth, moving your bodies until the blunt head of his cock - flush with his own arousal - bumped at your entrance.

Breath catching on a moan as he slowly slid in, your orgasm threatening to break before he even buried fully into your welcome heat. Bucky kissed the drying salt of your tears away, letting your pussy clamp down greedily before he even had the chance to move.

"Now say thank you," he teased, with one shallow thrust that had your body trembling in an instant, release coming in a crash so intense your vision went spotty while your lungs tried to remember how to function.

"Thank you," you mumbled, feeling a deep sleep about to take hold as Bucky chased his own release with long, deep thrusts.

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

Bucky Only: @thegirlwhowaited5everok @phantom-wolf-girl @optimisticchildtyrant @sassandscribbles @i-gotta-go-so-much-bigger @procrastination20 @mathcat345 @highhopes1008 @biaswreckedbybuckybarnes @scarletkanami @onyx8514 @jamesbbcrnes

Stan Characters Only: @iamthatonefangirl @cassity357 @erina00 @buckytakethewheel @buckysdecaflove @singulartoast @writtenbyeos

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

[superbassbuck]

honor him | bucky barnes (18+)

⤷ gladiator!bucky x servant!reader

⭐︎ warnings: smut, rough sex, reader talks him through it, bucky doesn't dirty talk, he snarls instead, size difference, dumbification (bucky talks like a caveman? idk), talks about consent, period typical misogyny, creampie, praise, breeding kink, spitting in mouth, mating press, overstimulation, bucky loves eye contact

⭐︎ word count: 6k

⭐︎ a/n: what started out as a 'hahahehe' food for thought turned into a smutty porn without plot fic. ty to @epiphanyrogers for giving me the motivation to write this by feeding me with her own gladiator steve !! reader literally teaches what consent is to bucky, but ultimately the sex is consensual. either way, please tread carefully.

synopsis: Bucky becomes the reigning champion and naturally, he seeks a prize—a pretty maiden to bed. You fall victim to his rough hands—to a brute who doesn't even know the meaning of the word "no." Yet to your surprise, despite being a man who takes whatever he wants, he is willing to let you teach him what consent really means.

← previous fic | main masterlist

The Colosseum is a home for bloodbaths.

There is a symphony of cheers and screams that rings throughout the entire dome. Swords clash against swords, sweat and blood dance together, dirt kicks into the air, and alcohol and spit shoot out of patrons’ mouths.

It is meaningless—all of it just a cruel form of entertainment for the emperor and his family.

You are thankful that you hadn’t been born a male to be pushed into these silly games, but instead, you are a woman—and that might be worse. But for now, despite all the screaming happening outdoors, you find solitude and a somewhat sense of peace near the barracks, sweeping debris and scrubbing the blood and grime off the floors from the defeated champions who walked away, already on the verge of death.

“Look at them,” you breathe. You pause your sweeping, wiping a strand of sweaty hair out of your face as your eyes peer through the wide holes of the wooden gates. “Animals. The whole lot of them.”

Livia does not need to look up to know what them you are referring to. There is only one kind of ruthless animal in the world—and that is men.

“Do not stare,” she warns you quietly. “If they catch you looking, they’ll punish you.”

“Please,” you scoff. “Their heads are too far up their own egos to notice us.”

“Big egos, yes.” Livia’s golden eyes glance over her shoulder from where she kneels on the floor, scrubbing grime. “And bodies. They are also quite handsome.”

Your eyes snap to her in revulsion. “Handsome? How can you say such a thing!” You glance back at the two men battling in the center of the dome. “Look at them. They are monsters.”

In the center is a man that you recognize—Bucky Barnes, the reigning champion for years. The White Wolf, is what the Emperor likes to call him. He is fighting another man, not much bigger than him, and certainly a man you do not recognize, meaning a man who will soon be falling to his doom beneath Bucky’s swords.

You have to admit, however, the man was giving The White Wolf a run for his money.

Finally, the man kneels before Bucky in defeat. Bucky raises his sword and delivers the final blow that sends the man to his grave.

Cheers erupt inside the dome. People jump out of their seats to shout and stomp. More debris and dust fall from above, landing on your and Livia’s faces—making you both cough.

The gates of the dome rattle as the herald’s voice shouts over the roaring crowd.

“Victory belongs to the undefeated! Behold your champion—The White Wolf!”

Thousands of voices chant his name as the dome thumps in a cadence that shakes the stone foundations around you. Through the wooden slats of the gate, you watch Bucky raise his blood-slicked sword to the sky. Unlike the other victors, he doesn’t smile. He never smiles.

Livia wipes the dust off her brow. “Another one to his name. He truly is unstoppable.”

You pull your gaze away. “He is a butcher,” you mutter.

Livia pushes herself off the floor with a light groan. She lifts the empty wooden basin to her chest. “I am going to refill this,” she says. “We’re going to need a lot of water to wash the victor up. I will be back.”

The wooden gate in front of you begins to groan as it slowly lifts. You grip your broom tight, moving to the side to make space for the blood-soaked victor to return back inside.

When Bucky steps in, the cool shade of the barracks is pure bliss against his hot body. Behind him steps the herald, adjusting his fine robes and wiping a pristine handkerchief over his sweaty brow, while the champion in front of him bleeds everywhere.

Bucky drops onto a wooden bench, and it creaks beneath his large body. His chest heaves as he catches his breath. With eyes still fueled by the adrenaline of battle, he watches as you approach him with a damp cloth and drop to your knees, wiping the splattered blood from his shins and boots.

“A magnificent display, White Wolf,” the herald boasts, pacing the floor and waving a hand dismissively in your direction as if you were just another piece of furniture. “The Emperor was thoroughly pleased. The coin will be transferred to your keeper, of course, but the Emperor insists on a personal reward for his favorite fighter tonight. A token of appreciation. Wine? A feast? Or perhaps a woman from the upper courts?”

Bucky does not answer the herald.

You try to keep your eyes down, working on scrubbing the crimson off his leather armor, but you can feel his cold stare watching your every movement, tracing the line of your shoulders and the curve of your vulnerable and exposed neck.

“We have the finest women prepared,” the herald continues, oblivious. “You have earned the right to take whatever, or whomever, you please.”

A massive and calloused hand suddenly shoots out. His fingers lock around your fragile wrist, making you wince and drop the rag.

“This one.”

You meet the champion’s eyes, and the spirit behind them terrifies you.

Bucky looks at you, not the way he stares at his opponents, but with something far more lethal. He looks at you as if you are roasted meat served on a silver platter by the Emperor himself. It sends shivers down your spine, and you avert your gaze.

The herald stands confused beside him.

“Her?” the herald sputters, looking down at you in disbelief. “White Wolf, she is a mere servant. A floor scrubber. The Emperor offered you a lady of the court. Someone fit for a powerful champion, such as yourself!”

The way the herald utters the word lady sounds like an insult to you—as if insinuating you’re not woman enough for a man like Barnes.

Bucky’s grip on your wrist tightens again as he gives your arm a rough shake, forcing your attention back to him with a gasp.

“Want her,” Bucky grunts, his tone leaving no room for argument.

The herald blinks, his eyes flickering down to you where you kneel before the champion. He clears his throat uncomfortably. “You must be mistaken, champion. She is nothing but a dirty servant—”

Bucky’s leather gloves creak as he tightens his hand on the hilt of his sword, and the herald falls silent, taking that slight movement from the gladiator as a threat to shut up.

“Fine, fine,” the herald mutters with a defeated sigh. “If that is what pleases you, then she is at your disposal.”

Your eyes nearly bulge out of their sockets. You hadn’t expected the herald to give you up so easily. You had hoped he would insist Bucky find a better woman—someone of higher value, and nowhere near your station.

“Wait, sir—you can’t possibly—!”

“I will let the Emperor know of your decision.” The herald turns on his heel, continuing to talk as if you aren’t even present. “He will be very amused. Though… it does make my job easier, finding another prize… I shall consider this a win for the both of us!”

The herald scratches his beard and shrugs as he continues to walk away. You feel like your life is already flashing before your eyes. There are horror stories of men like Bucky—men who just take and take without remorse. You are no exception. You don’t even want to imagine the kind of things he would do to a woman like you once the herald leaves you two alone. Ignoring Bucky entirely, you try to pry your weak arm away from the fighter’s grip and get to your feet.

“Sir, wait! Don’t leave me here with him!”

But Bucky’s grip remains tight. He hauls you against his broad, bare chest as he stands up. You collide into him with a yelp as he pins you still.

“Mine now,” he rumbles deeply.

You try to pull back, your heels digging into the grime stained floor, but it’s like trying to move a stone pillar. “Let me go! I have to finish cleaning, I have to—”

Without a word, he crouches before you and wraps both strong arms over your legs, hauling you like nothing and propping you over his shoulder like a prize he rightfully deserves.

“Come,” Bucky barks without a single opportunity for defiance. “Take you home.”

Your voice is dry from all the shouting and begging for him to release you. Your fists are weak from pounding his back in an attempt to make him let you go. Now, as you sit at the edge of his worn bed in his small home—which feels like it’s being held up by nothing but sticks and tapestry—you realize all of it was futile.

Tears streak your dirty cheeks as you wipe at them pathetically. You couldn’t even say goodbye to your dear friend, Livia. She must be worrying herself sick about you.

Bucky stands large and imposing in the center of the already tiny home. He wastes no time as he strips himself of his clothes, eyes locked onto your trembling frame. This man in front of you has no sense of shame as he leaves himself completely bare, his cock already hard and springing to his muscular lower belly.

You glance up, your breath catching in your throat at his size.

He is huge, his tip already gorging into an angry red while pre-cum dribbles out from the slit. Your eyes follow the veins that decorate his shaft up until you reach the base of his cock, where dark curls sit unruly and trail thinner up to his belly button.

“Good,” he grunts in approval. “Look at me. Only me.”

Bucky’s strong legs stalk forward to meet you at the edge of the bed. All you can do is stare at him with wide eyes. The campfire flickering behind him casts a warm light, highlighting his muscles and the sharpness of his features.

As he gets closer, you scramble backward. His knees dip and creak the bed as he crawls after you. To him, this is a game of cat and mouse—and he doesn’t mind one bit. You’re terrified, but he sees this as foreplay. The two of you continue this until your back hits the stone wall, leaving you nowhere else to run.

“Please,” you whimper. “Don’t do this.”

Then, without warning, his hand shoots out to grab the neckline of your dress. With a simple tug, his mere strength tears right through it.

“No!” you shriek, your hands coming up to cover your breasts before he even catches a glimpse. “Stop!”

Bucky furrows his brows. Your cries and actions only confuse him. His hands grab your arms, trying to pry them away from your chest. He is so much stronger than you; he could easily break you if he wanted to.

“No! Stop! I’m not ready!” you cry again, shaking your head as you gather all your strength to fight back. “I said, I’m not ready—!”

With your hand acting on a mind of its own, it reaches out and delivers a hard slap across the gladiator’s face.

Bucky’s head whips to the side, his dark, matted hair covering the features of his face—you can’t make out his expression at all.

Your eyes go wide, and your hand weakly retreats back to your chest. If you hadn’t thought Bucky was going to kill you before, you are certain he is going to skip the sexual act and kill you right now instead.

But, being as stubborn as you are, you hold onto the shovel that digs your very grave.

“I told you to stop,” your voice is shaky, but you try to find your footing. “I said no. Countless times. I did not give you my consent. Don’t you know what that word means?”

This is foolish, you think to yourself. Talking to a gladiator like Bucky is like talking to a brick wall. Your words will just go in one ear and out the other.

Bucky slowly turns his head back to you, his gaze locking onto yours with eyes so sharp you could swallow the blade. This is it. You’re certain this is where you die.

He makes an expression—not a pained one, but confused. His jaw is tight where your hand just struck him. He doesn’t move to strike back like you think he will, and he doesn’t wrap his hands around your throat to kill you.

He tilts his head, his face scrunched now in a way that makes him look almost like a kicked puppy.

“No?” he repeats, treating it like a question.

The syllable sounds clunky, foreign, and deeply awkward rolling off his tongue.

He looks down at your hands, still clamped tightly over your torn dress, and then back up to your glassy eyes.

“Consent?” he tries the next word, his brows furrowing from how unusual it sounds.

You nod, holding your breath. “Yes. Consent. I did not give it to you.”

Bucky blinks as the cogs work—or try to—in his head.

The reigning champion of the Colosseum, the brute of a man who knows exactly how to sever someone’s limb or take a prize by force, looks completely lost. For his entire life, the rules were simple: fight, win, take. No one had ever told him ‘no.’ No one had ever given him a choice, and he had never given anyone else one either.

“Consent,” he tastes the word again, as if trying to see if he likes it or not. Then, he shakes his head. “I don’t know.”

Now, you are just as confused as he is.

You stare at the gladiator who kneels before you on the bed. He is probably the most feared man in the empire, yet he sits there naked and baffled by such a basic concept.

“You don’t know?” you whisper. “You don’t know what the word consent means?”

Bucky shakes his head, his broad shoulders slumping a fraction. He looks down at his own massive hands, then back at you, looking almost defeated and unsure of what to do from here.

You let out a trembling breath, slowly adjusting your grip on your torn dress to keep yourself covered as you try to find the words to explain it to a man raised only for slaughter.

“It means... permission,” you explain softly. “It means that my body belongs to me, just like yours belongs to you. To take a woman to bed, she has to want it too. She has to say yes.” You gesture weakly between the two of you. “If I say no, or if I say stop, you have to stop. Otherwise, you are just hurting me. You are just forcing me.”

Bucky listens intently, his dark eyes watching your lips as you speak.

“Don’t want to hurt you,” he answers, his voice rough and strained.

That catches you by surprise. You didn’t expect that kind of softness out of him. Then, he meets your eyes again and continues. “Not yet, at least.”

You pull the torn dress tighter against your chest with a slight frown, and Bucky notices. He shifts awkwardly on the back of his heels—his cock still hard but his mind just as confused.

“How do I get you to want it?” He rests his hand on your bare ankle, tugging you gently. “Like how I want you?”

You swallow hard as you stare at his large hand wrapped around your ankle. He could grab you and break you—mold you and bend you so easily to his will—but he doesn’t.

“You have to… court me,” you try to explain. “You have to make me feel safe, and you have to make me want it.”

Bucky tilts his head. Everything you have just said—even the word safe—feels alien to him.

Your teeth worry your bottom lip as you continue. “It means you don’t just take what you want. You touch softly. You talk to me, and you kiss me.” You point a trembling finger to your mouth, then to his. “With your lips. To show me that you care about how I feel, not just what you want.”

“Touch softly,” Bucky repeats, drilling the instruction into his mind.

You shudder as his hand, once wrapped around your ankle, turns into a gentle caress with his fingertips.

Up and down, his calloused fingertips trace your foot up to your bare calf. He leans over your body, forcing you to lie down beneath him as he hikes up the hem of your skirt. He flattens his palm so it rests heavy against your bare thigh.

“Kiss,” he murmurs, his blue eyes tracing the curve of your lip. “Make you safe.”

He lowers his head, his dark, unruly hair brushing against your cheeks as he brings his face inches from yours.

He hesitates for a second, his nostrils flaring like an animal as he breathes you in. Then, with an awkward, slow movement that he isn’t at all used to, Bucky presses his lips to yours.

The kiss is clumsy and far too hard at first, but as much as he wants to, he doesn’t force his way inside. He doesn’t push his tongue into your mouth, demanding dominance. He keeps his mouth pressed against yours, his lips slightly parted, mimicking the action as best as his instincts allow. It is gentle, surprisingly soft, and very wet—he might’ve even been drooling, aching to kiss you.

He pulls away just a fraction and searches your face for any sign of fear.

“Like this?” he murmurs, his breath hot against your mouth. “Safe?”

Your heart flutters wildly in your chest, except this time it has nothing to do with fear. You stare up at the man before you with wide eyes and wet lips. Bucky studies your face, trying to make out if what he did was right or wrong.

“Y—yes,” you breathe out. “That was good.”

Satisfied with your answer, he leans back down and kisses you again. One hand rises up—slowly, to avoid startling you—and cups your cheek gently. His thumb grazes over the curve of your cheek while his lips explore yours.

A soft, needy sound leaves your lips before you can stop it, and Bucky answers with a deep groan. While one hand cradles your cheek, his other hand slowly rises beneath your dress to grip your smooth hip.

You find yourself unexpectedly leaning into the kiss, matching him until his tongue pokes past your lips and swirls around yours. The two of you breathe heavily, moaning softly against each other as Bucky positions himself between your legs. His cock grows even harder, poking against your warm inner thigh.

He can’t take it anymore. Each moan that leaves your lips sounds like yes, yes, yes to his ears. His desperate hands find the waistband of your panties, threatening to tear them.

You suddenly pull away from the kiss with a gasp, catching your breath. Your hand presses against his bare chest, stopping him.

“No,” you pant as you stare up at him. “Stop. Not yet. You have to be patient.”

At the word stop, Bucky freezes. A snarl rips from the back of his throat, and his face twists in frustration. His jaw clenches so hard, his muscles twitch. You wince back into the pillows in fear, thinking you are in over your head and have pushed him too far.

You brace yourself, closing your eyes tightly.

“I’m trying,” he growls, the words tearing past his teeth. “What do I have to do? Tell me.”

You open your eyes and see him hovering over you. His large body acts as a blanket of warmth while one strong arm props him up, the muscles straining under his own weight and restraint.

“You have to touch me,” you explain gently, pulling his hand away from your underwear and bringing it up to your chest. “Like this.”

Bucky’s eyes follow your movement. Your smaller hand rests over his as you guide him to squeeze your breasts. His breathing grows heavier as his fingers tug and start to play with your budded nipple, relishing the way you moan and arch your back into his touch.

“Like that,” you moan softly. “Good—good boy.”

He groans loudly at your praise. His dark, unruly hair brushes your skin before his mouth closes over your budded nipple. He begins to lick and suck hungrily, his tongue swirling around the sensitive peak while his teeth graze the edge.

“Mm…” Your eyes flutter shut at the pleasure, your head tossing back against the pillow while he makes love to your tits.

Encouraged by your sounds, he grinds his thick hard cock firmly against the smooth skin of your bare thigh, seeking any kind of friction to relieve the ache between his legs.

One hand leaves your breast to grip your hip, digging his fingers into your skin to hold you still while he ruts against you like an animal. He whimpers against your chest, drunk on your scent and the high of your soft moans.

“Please,” he begs, his stubble tickling your bare chest. “Say yes. Let me have you. Now.”

The way he pleads sends a warm rush through your lower belly, a feeling that leaves you craving him just as badly. The man who is used to taking whatever he wants without remorse is reduced to being entirely at your mercy between your legs. A sensation settles inside you that you never thought you would harbor.

Control.

Just one word—one breathless little “yes”—would send Bucky over the edge. His pleasure and his craving are both held in your hands.

“Okay,” you say, giving him a small nod, satisfied with how well he has done. “You can have me.”

A growl rips from his chest. Driven by instinct, his large hands grip the waistband of your panties once more, his knuckles pulling taut as he prepares to shred the flimsy fabric to pieces.

“No,” you interject quickly, slapping his hands away. “Don’t rip them! That’s rude!”

He scowls as he draws his hand back, a whine of frustration catching in his throat like a disappointed hound. It’s clear he is unhappy about facing another rule when he is so close to the edge, yet he listens.

“Pull them down slowly,” you instruct.

Using every ounce of restraint in his veins, he resists the urge to tear the cloth. He hooks his thick fingers into the sides and slowly pulls the fabric down past your hips and thighs until you are completely bare beneath him.

“There you go,” you sigh softly, pleased with his gentle movements. “Good boy.”

Bucky’s eyes drop to the slick heat waiting for him. He hovers over your body, his heavy breathing filling the space between you as he positions the thick head of his cock right at your entrance. He rubs himself up and down against you, soaking his length in your arousal and sucking in a breath at the heat of your touch.

He is too big—impossibly so—and you aren’t sure if he will fit.

“Need to fuck you,” he grits through clenched teeth. “Hard.”

Holding himself at the base, he works at your entrance. His tip slowly slides in, stretching the opening and pushing deep enough to make you arch your back off the bed with a painful hiss.

He pauses at the sound.

“No,” you whimper, blinking tears away as you peer down at him. “If you’re going to have sex with me, you have to be gentle.”

His face twists into a strained expression, but he reluctantly abides.

One hand steadies your hip while the other holds his heavy cock, sliding into your warm, tight walls. Your body is so tight, not used to accommodating such a size, but he relents and continues pushing in.

You cry out, eyes squeezing shut as your arms rest on his shoulders for support.

“Look at me,” Bucky commands in a rough, deep voice. When you don’t listen, he tilts his head down so he is in your line of sight and tries again. “I said look at me.”

You finally do, and his eyes search yours intently. The ring of blue demands that you look at him, and him only.

“Keep them open,” he instructs. “Look at me. It will feel better.”

So, you do.

You both stare into each other’s eyes while he slides himself even deeper. As his cock stretches you wide, his brows furrow and his face twists into a snarl, baring his teeth at the tightness of your body until he finally sheathes himself fully inside with a groan.

“Gentle,” he rasps brokenly. “Gentle. Gotta be gentle.” He repeats the words as if he’s trying to remind himself.

Your legs shake around him, your body trying to get used to his size.

He hasn’t moved yet, but you already feel impossibly full. Your walls embrace him, and you feel your body slowly opening up to let him in. As his cock settles deep inside you, pleasure slowly overwhelms your senses.

For Bucky, it feels like pure torture. Your body is snug and warm—like a wet, tight fist wrapped around his cock, so much better than what he’s used to with his own calloused hands.

“Need to move,” he curses. “Need to fuck. Say yes.”

His voice comes out rough and crude, but he refuses to move without your consent.

“Hold on,” you whimper, still adjusting to his size. You shift your hips slightly, trying to get comfortable, but the movement only makes him groan in pleasure.

“Fine,” he grunts, squeezing your hip.

After what feels like forever, you finally nod your head.

“Okay,” you whisper. “I’m ready.”

And just like that, you open the pearly white gates to heaven for him.

With a hungry growl, he draws his hips back until only half of him remains, and then he slides himself back in. Your lips part in a gasp as he fills you again—his cock sinking even deeper, kissing your cervix.

“Tight,” Bucky clicks his tongue, growing frustrated. “Too tight.”

He pulls out halfway before slamming into you again, and again, and again. Each thrust grows harder and more unrelenting, forcing your body to yield to his cock.

“A—ah! It’s… s’too much—”

“Want me to stop?” he groans out painfully and reluctantly, like he doesn’t want you to answer with a ‘yes’.

“No,” you manage to breathe out. “Don’t stop.”

Moans and gasps spill from your lips every time he fills you. His girth splits you open with every savage thrust, his strong thighs forcing your legs wider for him.

His eyes never tear away from yours. Every time you try to squeeze your eyes shut from the force of his thrusts, he grabs your chin roughly and shakes you, forcing you to look back at him.

“Eyes. On. Me,” he hisses angrily.

Squeezing your cheeks to force your lips apart, he drags his thumb down your lower lip to pry them wider. He leans down, his hot breath tickling your skin while his damp strands of dark hair dance over your face.

He spits into your mouth, the traces of it dripping from his lips down to his chin, slicking your open mouth. It’s wild and savage, unlike anything you’ve ever experienced before. Without giving you the opportunity to pull away, his lips cover yours as he forces his saliva to swallow down your throat.

His tongue dances around yours again while he fucks you deeply, each move threatening to break both you and the bed.

Your eyes roll back so far in your skull while your legs dangle helplessly around his hips. Every thrust feels like a punishment for making him wait. Your nerves are crying out for release—and eventually, you give in. Your cunt spasms violently around Bucky’s length as bliss overwhelms every single sense.

“Oh my god,” you cry. “I’m gonna cum—!”

Your cries fill the small house as your back arches off the damp bed. Bucky insists on making eye contact with you, holding your jaw and forcing you to look at him while he fucks you through your climax.

You clench him tightly, your pussy pulsing in loving beats and squeezing him for every last drop.

“Fuck. Yes. Good, feels so good,” he rasps angrily, his thrusts becoming harder and more desperate.

His balls slap vulgarly against your wet pussy, traces of your slick clinging to him every time he bottoms out. His balls churn with pent-up seed, aching to fill you deep. Your cries grow louder, your hips shifting around to accommodate the overstimulation—but it’s no use.

Bucky’s close, so close. While his eyes bore into yours, his pupils dilate with desire. He just needs to get deeper, to fuck you at an impossible angle to pump you full…

“Wait,” you dig your nails deep into his back, making him gasp in pain. “Slow down—it’s too much…”

He snarls angrily, his hips slowing down just a fraction, but not entirely.

The sound that leaves your lips is a cocktail of pain and bliss. It’s a sultry sound that encourages him to continue, to take what he wants, but the words leaving your mouth say otherwise.

“No,” you shake your head. “Stop, please. It’s too much for me. You’re going to break me—”

His hands release your cheeks roughly as his head drops to press his sweaty forehead against yours. Another animalistic sound tears through him as he forces his hips to come to a stop. His cock stills inside you—pulsing for any form of friction. Just a few more thrusts, and he’ll cum. He’ll cum hard. But he stops, because you asked him to.

“Need to cum,” he pants against your face, taking in the way your eyes have gone teary. “So close.”

“I know,” you say with a soft sigh, your eyes fluttering shut for just a moment. “I know. I just… just need a minute.”

You let your fingers trail up and down his back, and he shudders at the feeling.

The two of you lie there, tangled in each other’s limbs while you catch your breath. Bucky waits impatiently—his heart beating so fast in his chest as he uses every ounce of restraint in his blood to refrain from fucking you right through the bed.

Your pussy is already swollen and puffy from his size, and the longer he remains stuffed inside you, the tighter your body squeezes around him.

With his forehead pressed against yours, he shifts his knees and hips slightly to get comfortable, but even those tiny, forced movements are agonizing. Breathy moans and grunts escape both your lips, shared in the tight space between you. It’s sex without the vulgar movements, and it feels far too intimate for a ruthless man like Bucky.

Finally, you grant him permission.

Staring into his eyes, you give him a small nod to let him continue. And the moment you do, the last thread holding Bucky’s control snaps.

He grabs your legs and shoves them high over your shoulders, splitting you wide and pinning you down into a deep mating press. “Need to go deeper. Hold still.”

You had just gotten used to his size, and the sudden change in position makes your eyes fly open. Your mouth falls open in a gasp as he draws his hips back before bottoming out completely inside you.

His heavy, sweaty body crushes down on yours as he begins to fuck you hard and fast. Every draw of his hips fills you impossibly deep, your stretched cunt molding helplessly around his thick length. He works his hips in a wild, frantic rhythm, chasing his release at full speed before you can say another word to stop him.

“Mine,” he rasps through gritted teeth, his chest heaving as his sweat drips onto your skin. “Say it. Tell me you’re mine—”

The force of his hips slamming against yours knocks the breath right out of you, your moans coming out as breathless gasps while he pounds into you. His eyes bore into yours, waiting for you to finally give in.

“Tell me you’re mine. Say it.”

You blink through tears of bliss. “I—I’m yours—” you manage to stammer out.

His face twists in pleasure, baring his teeth as he pins your legs against your chest while the tip of his cock works deep against your cervix. “Good. A perfect sleeve for my cock. Look at me while I cum inside you.”

The sight of your face scrunched in pleasure and vulnerability sends a wave of heat coursing from his lower gut to the very tips of his toes. His cock pulses and throbs inside, slicking your walls with his pre-cum—a warning before giving you the real thing.

“Pump my cum,” his large palm settles over your lower belly. “All in here.”

The thought of you walking around the house barefoot and round with his children—growing up to be champions just like their father—makes his head spin and his balls grow heavy.

“Close. So close,” he curses and groans over and over, speaking more than he ever has. “Hold still. Take it all for me, wife.”

Bucky buries himself as deep as his length will go, pinning you down as his entire body locks tight. His cock pulses, pumping wave after thick wave of his hot seed deep inside your womb.

His head drops into the crook of your neck, his large, sweaty chest heaving against yours as he rides out his pleasure.

He releases your legs for a moment until both your rapid hearts finally slow to a steady beat. Slowly, agonizingly so, he draws his thick length back, pulling out of your slick, overstimulated cunt with a wet suction sound.

You let out a soft, breathless gasp at the sudden empty feeling. A ring of creamy white circles the base of his cock, and his seed dribbles between your folds—physical proof of what he just did to you.

Without a word, he grips both your ankles with one large hand, pinning your thighs together and pressing your legs straight up into the air to hold them suspended above you.

You blink at him—dazed, exhausted, and thoroughly used. His cock rests half-limp between his strong legs, so he clearly isn’t going for another round.

“What are you doing…?” you whisper softly, confused.

He holds your legs firmly in place as his dark eyes scan your bare, trembling body.

“Make sure it takes,” he grunts out, his voice rough from satisfaction. He uses his free hand to trace a warm, possessive line down to your lower belly, pressing down gently right over your womb. “Keep your belly round with my sons.”

You stare up at him in disbelief while your legs are held helplessly aloft by his massive hand. You’re too exhausted to argue, your brain still foggy from your orgasm. Still, you manage an incredulous laugh.

Does he seriously think propping your legs up like a pair of stilts is going to magically guarantee a pregnancy?

He looks so proud of himself that you don’t even have the heart to argue. He squeezes your ankles slightly, letting out a satisfied hum from his chest once he’s convinced his little trick did the job. The smile on his face is almost boyish in a way that does not belong to a rough man like him.

“Good wife,” he praises you. “Birth me healthy champions.”

You let out a soft sigh, fluttering your eyelids shut as fatigue finally crawls its way into your bones.

As you drift into slumber, you make a mental note to teach this brute a lesson on how gravity works. And right after that, you’ll teach him what aftercare is—especially if he plans on keeping you forever and making you his wife.

if you've made it this far, as always thank you so much for taking the time to read my work. interactions are always appreciated, I love reading every bit of them!

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[urfavgirllll]

Bucky barnes looks so sexy in that trailer please i wanna ride his face 😋😋

[urfavgirllll]

My headcannon (just because it's too perfect) is that Bucky's family is the Barnes of Barnes and Noble bookstores. Their first bookstore was opened in Manhattan in, wait for it, 1917. 🤗

[urfavgirllll]

My headcannon (just because it's too perfect) is that Bucky's family is the Barnes of Barnes and Noble bookstores. Their first bookstore was opened in Manhattan in, wait for it, 1917. 🤗

[purrrrblonde]

giddy up 𝒃𝒖𝒄𝒌𝒚 𝒃𝒂𝒓𝒏𝒆𝒔

when bucky asks to try something new, you expected bondage or maybe a headlock. what you didn’t expect was bucky wanting you to take the lead. (it doesn’t last long.)

warnings ︖ 𝐬𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐜𝐡!𝐛𝐮𝐜𝐤𝐲 𝐝𝐫𝐲𝐡𝐮𝐦𝐩𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐜𝐨𝐰𝐠𝐢𝐫𝐥 𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐨 𝐝𝐨𝐠𝐠𝐲 𝐫𝐨𝐮𝐠𝐡 𝐬𝐞𝐱 𝐥𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐥𝐞 𝐩𝐥𝐨𝐭 𝐬𝐥𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐜𝐡𝐨𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝟏𝟖+

bucky barnes has a reputation, even in your relationship. he’s always the one with a plan, always the one making decisions, always the steady hand guiding things. you joke that dating bucky is like dating a very affectionate drill sergeant. he’s bigger, stronger, older in every sense of the word, and you’ve long accepted that letting bucky take charge is just part of loving him.

so when he shyly asks if the two of you can “try something different,” your imagination immediately spirals. something adventurous. something complicated.

instead, bucky’s request catches you completely off guard. he wants you to take the lead. and out of the 8 months you’ve been dating, he’s refused to let you be on top.

but because after decades of carrying everyone else, making impossible decisions, and feeling like he always has to be in control, he’s curious what it would feel like to let someone he trusts hold the reins for once.

the problem?

you’re terrible at being in charge.

bucky is six feet of muscle and old-fashioned manners who blushes when you compliment him too much. meanwhile, you’re overthinking every little thing because you’re terrified of doing something wrong. the first attempt is awkward. the second is interrupted when you accidentally burst out laughing because bucky, who once fought aliens, gets embarrassingly flustered when he’s the one being fussed over. he watches you carefully. he's trying really hard not to take over. he knows this is about trust. trusting you to lead. trusting himself to follow. he swallows hard when you laugh. he knows he's not good at this. he's not used to being led.

you take a deep breath, moving to straddle his hips. you’re both fully clothed, but decided maybe dry humping would open a few doors. his hands hover uncertainly at your sides. he's not sure where to put them. he's used to gripping your hips, your waist, your ass. but right now, he's trying to follow your lead. so his hands just hover there, fingers twitching with the urge to grab on.

"okay?" he asks quietly, voice rougher than usual, looking up at you with those too-blue eyes. he's letting you be in charge. and you can see how much effort it's taking him not to take over. not to guide your hips. not to set the pace. "you want me to grind on you?" you ask, testing the waters. "yes?" he says, like a question. because he's not used to you checking in like this. you're usually the one getting directed, getting told what feels good.

you start grinding slowly, testing the way it feels. your clit presses against his hard bulge through both sets of clothes. you bite your lip, watching bucky's face carefully. his eyes are glassy, his breath is shallow, but he's still not touching you. his jaw tightens. he's getting hard. he can feel you moving against him. he's not used to this. he's used to being the one moving. the one taking. he's used to pulling you against him. pushing you down on him. he's used to being in control.

you grind down harder, pressing your lips together to keep from moaning. bucky's face twitches, his nostrils flaring. his hands curl into fists at his sides, knuckles turning white. "fuck," he grits out, eyes squeezing shut. you lean forward, pressing your hands against his chest. you feel his heart pounding beneath your palms. you grind your hips harder, feeling his dick swell against you.

you suddenly stop moving. bucky's eyes fly open, his breath coming in harsh pants. he looks up at you, confused and desperate. "don't... don't stop," he pleads, voice breaking. his control is hanging by a thread. "please..." you freeze, a little bit confused by his uncharacteristic begging before bouncing back.

you suddenly start moving again, faster this time. bucky's eyes roll back slightly, a low groan escaping him. his hands twitch at his sides, like he's physically restraining himself from touching you. "fuck, fuck," he chants softly, hips lifting slightly to meet your movements. “take, fuck- take it out,” you all but demand, pawing at his chest.

he looks at you with complete surprise, like he can't believe you're telling him what to do. then he realizes what you want and his brain short-circuits. he shoves his pants down, freeing his hard dick. no underwear today. you immediately grind down on his bare dick, feeling it slide against your underwear. bucky lets out a strangled sound, eyes locking onto yours. his hands hover uncertainly over your hips, squeezing the air like he wishes it was your flesh. "shit, shit, shit,"

you lean back, bracing your hands on his thighs behind you. you start rolling your hips, using his dick to rub your clit through your underwear. bucky's eyes are glued to the sight, mouth hanging open slightly. his hands are still hovering, like he's waiting for permission to touch you. “you look so-" he stops himself. he's not supposed to be describing things. you're supposed to be in charge. you grab his hovering hands and slam them down on your hips. "touch me," you order, voice shaky but firm. his fingers immediately dig into your skin, like he's been holding back for years. "fuck,"

his hands move of their own accord now. one stays on your hip, pulling you down harder against his dick. the other moves to your ass, squeezing and spreading your cheeks apart so he can feel you better through your underwear. his hips start lifting to meet your movements. “more,"

i’m you shakily reach down, tugging your panties to the side. his breath catches audibly. he watches you expose yourself to him. he sees your wet pussy, the way your folds are puffy and swollen. his mouth waters. his dick twitches against your opening. he wants to thrust up and fill you, but he waits.

you rub your wetness against his bare dick head, coating him with your arousal. bucky throws his head back and groans loudly. his hands tighten on your hips possessively. one hand slides down to grip your ass cheek firmly, pulling you apart again. "stop fucking teasing me,"

you slap his cheek, “who’s on top?” he pouts at the light but prominent contact. “you are.” he says with a heavy breath. he swallows hard, hands moving back to your hips but not taking control. he's waiting for you to make the next move. his dick is throbbing between your spread legs, dripping with your wetness. "please... sit on it," he begs softly, breaking his own rules.

you feel a little jolt of power go through you. bucky barnes is begging. you've had him under you before, but never begged quite like this. never let you lead. never looked at you with such raw, needy desperation. you position yourself just right, his head brushing against your entrance. you look down at him, watching his face contort with want.

he's staring up at you, eyes wide and pleading. his mouth is open, breathing heavy. his tongue flicks out to wet his lips. "come on... sit down..." his hips twitch, trying to lift up and push inside you. "please," he begs again. you slowly lower yourself onto him. you're so wet that he slides in easily. but you're also tight, and he's thick. so it burns a little as he stretches you open. you bite your lip against the sensation, hands flying to his chest for support.

ohis face screws up in pleasure as you take him inside. he grips your hips tightly, fingers digging in as you sink lower and lower. when you finally bottom out, his dick buried deep inside you, he lets out a shaky breath. "oh fuck... fuck...” he resists the urge to thrust up into you, waiting for you to set the pace. his hands move to your ass, spreading your cheeks and squeezing as he holds you down on him, feeling you pulse around his dick. "move... fuck, move on me," he urges hoarsely.

you start moving, lifting up and down slowly. you watch his face as you do, seeing the way his eyes flutter closed and his mouth opens slightly. he's so handsome like this, desperate and out of breath. you lean forward, placing your hands on his chest and grinding down on him. his eyes roll back as you lean forward and grind down harder. he can feel your tits pressing against his chest, your hands squeezing him possessively. he loves this view - you towering over him, riding him like he's your own personal fuck toy. "yes...” he hisses.

you start bouncing on him, using his chest for leverage. he watches your tits bounce with each movement, the sight making his mouth water. he lifts his head, catching one nipple between his teeth and biting down gently. his hands slide up to your back, holding you in place as he sucks. you yelp at the sudden bite of pain, arching your back. your hands fly to his hair, gripping tightly as he sucks hard on your nipple. you keep bouncing on him, using the new angle to take him even deeper. he releases your nipple with a pop, only to start kissing and biting his way up to your neck.

his breathing is ragged against your throat now. his hips start moving up to meet yours, thrusting into you from below. he can't help himself anymore. his control snapped the second you bounced on him. “can't— can't just—" he gasps between thrusts, his mechanical arm wrapping around your waist to hold you down on him. he starts fucking you in earnest now, his real arm joining the mechanical one to hold you in place as he pounds into you from below. his face is buried in your neck, his open mouth sucking bruises into your skin.

your arms are wrapped around his neck, holding onto him tightly as he fucks you hard. you can feel every ridge and vein of his dick as he thrusts into you. you're so wet that it's dripping down onto his stomach. the sound of his hips hitting yours fills the room.

he suddenly stops moving, his dick buried deep inside you. he looks up at you with a determined expression, his arms still holding you tightly. "turn over," he demands suddenly, his voice hoarse and commanding. "i need to be on top now." his hips twitch inside you.

you whimper at the demand, immediately understanding his need to take control. you lift off his dick with a wet sound and quickly turn over onto your hands and knees. before you can adjust, he's gripping your hips and slamming back inside you from behind.

he starts pounding into you immediately, his hips slapping against your ass with each thrust. his mechanical hand reaches around to grip your throat, pulling you up so your back is against his chest. his other hand moves down to toy with your clit. "fuck, so tight," he grunts in your ear. you whimper and moan, your hands gripping the sheets tightly. you can feel his thick dick stretching you open with each thrust. his hand around your throat is squeezing just enough to make you see stars.

his thrusts become more erratic as he feels you squeezing around him. his mechanical hand tightens on your throat, cutting off your breath. his real hand works your clit faster, applying more pressure. he's fucking you so hard the headboard is hitting the wall with a thudding noise. he leans over you more, practically folding you in half as he fucks you from behind. his broad chest is plastered against your back, his heavy breathing ghosting over your shoulder. he's so big that he's practically swallowing you whole with each snap of his hips.

you feel his dick twitch, knowing his heavy load is on the way. his eyes roll back as he feels his orgasm building. his hand on your throat tightens even more, his fingers digging into your clit roughly. he buries his face in your neck, biting down as he starts to come. “fuck— fuck— i’m gonna fill you up,”

he slams into you one last time, his dick pulsing as he comes hard. you can feel his hot seed flooding your insides, coating your walls. his hips spasm against your ass as he empties himself completely. his mechanical arm wraps around your stomach, holding you in place as he keeps you full of his cum. “i…what…what happened to me being on top?” you breathe out, tapping at his bicep.

he huffs out a laugh, still buried deep inside you, still coming a little. his hand finally releases your throat, moving to gently rub where his fingers dug in. "you felt too good bouncing on my dick. had to take over, doll."

he slowly pulls out of you, his softening dick slipping out with a wet sound. a flood of his cum follows, spilling out of your well-used pussy and onto the bed below. he collapses next to you, pulling you into his side and throwing a heavy leg over your hips.

he kisses your forehead, his arm wrapping around you possessively. he's still breathing heavily, his mechanical heart rate slowly returning to normal. he can feel his cum leaking out of you and onto the bed, marking you as his. "next time, i'll let you stay on top longer," you huff a tired laugh. you don’t believe him in the slightest.