“We chose the term “asexual” to describe ourselves because both “celibate” and “anti-sexual” have connotations we wished to avoid: the first implies that one has sacrificed sexuality for some higher good, the second that sexuality is degrading or somehow inherently bad. “Asexual”, as we use it, does not mean “without sex” but “relating sexually to no one”. This does not, of course, exclude masturbation but implies that if one has sexual feelings they do not require another person for their expression. Asexuality is, simply, self-contained sexuality.”
— The Asexual Manifesto, Lisa Orlando and Barbara Getz, 1972
It’s 50 years this month since the first version of the Asexual Manifesto was written. Aces have been writing about our experiences under this name for at least half a century. We are not an internet fad.
Summary: Bucky suggests sneaking off at the gala. How can you resist?
Word Count: Over 3k
Warnings: Unprotected v. sex, sex in a closet, dirty talk, possessiveness, established relationship, slight insecurities, mention of breeding, slight feels (it's me), Bucky Barnes and he's a simp for you (he's a warning, okay?).
A/N: Sorry, lovelies. I just really wanted this. Not beta read and written on my phone, so any and all mistakes are my own. Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog for new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!
Bucky didn’t bother to hide his discontent as he looked around at the ballroom. Was it a gala? Fundraiser? What cared? He hated functions like these. People were either there to kiss ass and move up the chain of command or gloat about how well off they were in life under the guise that they were doing good for others. He didn't attempt to converse with any of them, but still had to go as a way to support SHIELD in some capacity and show that he was no longer the Winter Soldier.
At least Steve and Sam were excused from the event due to a mission.
Leaning against one of the pillars and tugging at his bowtie, he spaced out momentarily. No one looked his way, but he still felt judged. Like he didn’t just belong at the event, but amongst anyone. He wanted to go home, get out of his tuxedo, and get the product out of his slicked back hair. He debated sneaking away from some air until he blinked and saw the reason he was truly there: you, the only real person in the crowd of liars and cheaters.
He never understood the expression of clothes clinging to someone like a second skin until you stepped into your floor-length black dress earlier this evening, the fabric enhancing every beautiful curve of your body. His eyes narrowed as you moved around the room and exchanged smiles and handshakes with people. Your aura drew people to you, men brushing against you and their stares lingering for far too long. It served as another reminder of why he didn’t want to go tonight, especially when a General gripped your arm.
If he had a glass in his hand it would’ve shattered.
Convincing you to stay in bed didn't work since you both had to make an appearance, but it didn't mean he wanted you apart from him. “Get over here,” he whispered, craving your attention, needing you close.
As if you sensed him seeking you out, likely feeling the weight of his stare, you turned to meet his gaze across the room. Your eyes sparkled with love that he never thought he’d receive in his lifetime. The kind of love he never wanted to be without again. “Would you please excuse me?” You asked loud enough for him to catch as you removed your arm from the man’s grip. “My husband is waiting for me.”
Your hips swayed as you worked your way toward Bucky, not stopping for any other man who tried to catch your eye. Hearing you call him your husband brought the first smile to his face since he arrived. He still couldn’t believe some days that you wanted forever with him. “I was wondering when my beautiful wife would remember I was here,” he said once you were close enough, reaching out for your hand.
The moment you took it, he stood tall and pulled you against him. He was certain no one else came close to the intimidating vibe he put out, his hold on you possessive as you smiled. “As if I could forget. Practically heard you growling when General Rando touched my arm,” you teased.
“Because he has no right to touch you,” he said, your lashes fluttering as you spun away. His hands guided you back to him. “I know you’re better with people than I am, which is why you’re the one who has to socialize and I’m sorry for that. But you also said I’m not allowed to break any fingers tonight and I won't be held responsible if he tries to touch you again.”
He swore he didn’t have a possessive bone in his body until you sauntered into his life, giving him hopes and dreams and longing.
You laughed at him, a seductive sound that had a few heads turning. “You do know I can break his fingers myself, right?”
He chuckled, leaning close to your ear and tickling your skin with his breath. “I know you're more than capable of kicking his ass. One of your many wonderful qualities,” he whispered. People underestimated you and that was always a mistake. “But I still don't like that he touched you like he wanted to own you.”
You rang a finger along his bowtie. “We all know who owns me and we know I own you, too,” you said, holding up your hand to show him your wedding ring. He tried to ignore how fast his heart pounded at the sight of his ring on your finger, the pledge you two made together. “In a very healthy, non-toxic sort of way, of course.”
He smirked, glancing around at the crowd before looking back at you. “Of course, but maybe we could give everyone a friendly reminder that we’re a happily married and loyal couple.” His voice dropped lower, teasingly. He wanted to make your heart race like his. “Or maybe we could sneak away for a bit. Make this night a little more interesting.”
“Sneak away?” You feigned innocence as you blinked at him. He was certain any innocence you had before he met you was gone thanks to him. “Whatever for?”
“You know what for. It’ll be like that expo we went to a few months ago.” Bucky tilted his head slightly, studying your face closely. He easily picked up your sharp inhale, the way your pupils dilated and lips parted. It was clear that sneaking off was something that very much interested you. “C’mon, baby. This gala is boring and neither of us want to be here. My idea is much more fun. You know it is.”
He touched your cheek, your skin warm under his hand. He wasn’t able to keep you in bed earlier like he wanted, but the thought of pulling you away and having you right here and now had his stomach fluttering with excitement. “This gala is boring,” you agreed carefully.
“Then let’s make it exciting.” His thumb brushed across your lips and it took everything in him not to push his thumb inside. “You made me come to this thing. Don’t I deserve something for showing up and behaving?”
“I haven't made you come yet.” His muscles went taut when you briefly sucked the digit into your mouth, electricity crackling under his skin. He admired your boldness, how you were unashamedly yourself in front of these people. You didn't and would never care what they thought. “And I didn't make you come to this event, but I can make it worth your while.”
He held your chin and moved close until only an inch separated your faces. Your eyes gleamed with a hunger that rivaled his. The air crackled between you, daring you both to give over to your obvious desires. “And how exactly do you plan to do that?” He rasped when you suddenly pulled back and helped move him across the floor in a dance.
“My plan? I thought sneaking away was your idea,” you smiled, guiding you both closer to the open doorway. “But if we can find a closet or dark corner, you can do whatever you want with me. And I’ll even let you fuck my throat first thing tomorrow morning for behaving.”
A rumbling, deep groan escaped his throat. His fingers dug in possessively when he gripped the nape of your neck and tilted your head so he could taste your skin. Your body molding against his, soft and yielding against his solid frame, wasn’t enough. There were too many clothes in the way and he wanted to bury himself deep inside you.
“You drive me crazy, Mrs. Barnes,” he whispered, lifting his head to look into your eyes.
“The feeling is mutual, Mr. Barnes.” You bit your lip once he waltzed you for enough away from prying eyes, the heat flaring between you. “I need you.”
Every nerve ending came to life when he claimed your mouth in a searing kiss. His tongue plunged past your lips, holding you steady as he devoured you. You melted against him, which only brought forth his primal hunger more. His intensity never scared you and he would be forever thankful for that.
You gasped as your back hit a wall, the sounds of chatter and music from the ballroom muffled. Your nails scraped the fabric of his jacket, both of you lost in sensations of lust and desire. As one of your hands continued its journey to his shoulder, the other wandered down his torso and didn’t stop until you gripped his thick erection through his pants.
He abruptly broke the kiss when you gave him a squeeze, his eyes wild. “Fuck,” he breathed, gripping your wrist and pushing more firmly against your hand. “You feel that? That’s what you do to me.”
With dizzying speed, he spun you so that your back pressed against his front. You panted as his hand ventured through the slit of your dress and brushed along your trembling thigh. “Wait until you feel how wet I am,” you whispered, grinding your hips back against his.
His mouth brushed the exposed column of your throat, alternating between small bites and open mouthed kisses. “Still get wet for me?” He asked, massaging your breast with his vibranium hand and drawing another gasp from you when he pinched your nipple. He marveled at how much he could feel with that hand and how he’d never harm you with it.
“Have you seen yourself? One look from you and I’m soaked.” Your back arched as he bit down again. He wished he saw himself the way you did. “And you’re my husband. That craving for you isn’t going away.”
He rocked his hips against yours, seeking out more contact and friction as his cock throbbed and heart swelled. Marriage wasn’t a constant honeymoon phase. It took work. Effort. Compromise. But you were worth every moment, every struggle, every up and down.
Laughter from a few feet away had him lifting his head, both of you looking toward where the noise was coming from. “Fuck,” he snarled, wanting to scream at whoever it was to go the fuck away.
“There’s a closet around the corner. We just need to pick the lock,” you told him, smiling over your shoulder. “I may have scoped out the place in case this happened.”
He chuckled, utterly in awe of you. “I fucking love you,” he exhaled.
Walking with an aching hard-on wasn’t easy, but he managed to get you both further away from the ballroom. He picked the lock with record speed once you got to the door and moved you both inside. He flipped on the light, wanting to see as much of you as he could. For a moment, you two stared at each other and waited for the other to make a move. He loved the anticipation.
“I’m disappointed in you, Mr. Barnes,” you said, reaching for the doorknob to lock it. He was about to ask what he possibly did to upset you when you smirked. “You didn’t mention anything about me not wearing any panties.”
His cock was ready to burst from his pants. “Because that fucking clown out there interupted me,” he rumbled, pinning you against the door and crowding your body. His nose touched yours as he hiked your dress up, desperate to kiss you again. Eager to feel your wetness. “You trust me?”
It was a question he always asked. You put all of yourself into his care, your body, mind, heart, and soul. It was only fair that he made sure you still wanted him to be the one for you today, tomorrow, and every day after that. Even then a single lifetime would never be enough for him. He wanted a thousand lives with you.
“Always,” you said, an ache in your voice that he couldn’t resist. He fused his lips with yours, building up the fire all over again when his hand found your damp heat. The most intimate part of you where you allowed him to make himself at home. Your hands shook as you went to undo his pants, wanting to free him. “And you trust me?”
It wasn’t just his heart that contracted. His very soul trembled, wanting to wrap itself up in your light and love. “With everything in me,” he promised, sighing when he pulled his cock free from his underwear. “I’ll worship you later. Those gorgeous tits of yours. Your sweet cunt.”
Once you were home, he’d slip off your dress and give every beautiful inch of your body the attention it deserved. He’d draw a bath for you, too, and hopefully join you so he could simply hold you. But he was desperate for you now. He thought he’d burn if he didn’t have you.
You hiked a leg around him, moving your hips enticingly. There was only so much he could take. And who wouldn’t fall under the tempting spell of your body? “I’m ready for you.” Your soft moan echoed in his ears as he trailed a finger along your slit to your clit, barely touching it. He knew it would shoot small sparks through your body until you begged for more. “I mean it, Barnes. Get. Your cock. In me.”
“My needy little wife,” he whispered against your lips as he gripped the base of his cock and probed your entrance. The breathy sound you made when he began to push in had his blood pulsing in euphoria. It was a wonder he fit some days with how tight you were, but your slick heat stretched and welcomed him every time.
“My needy husband,” you smiled as you enveloped him completely, your fingers curling in his hair.
“What kind of man isn’t needy for his wife?” He began to thrust in deep, deliberate strokes. It matched the rhythm of the music in the distant ballroom, the two of you creating your own sultry dance. Maybe he would go up in flames. At least he’d have you to burn with. “Fuck, your body was made for my cock.”
Each snap of his hips tore more moans and whimpers from your throat and sent shockwaves through his system. You clenched around him with a smile, looking like a debauched angel. “My pussy was made for you, so ruin it.”
He groaned, his pulse beating strongly as his grip tightened on your hips. He fucked you without restraint, just as greedy for you as you were for him. Allowing himself to feel you and what you did to him was everything he was denied for so long. His life had only been order. Pain. You let him lose control. You gave him pleasure. Even a home.
I love you.
“I love you, too, Bucky,” you panted, brushing a thumb over his cheekbone as his eyes closed against the emotions threatening to surface. “I love you, too.”
His pace picked up, urgent, frenzied. At this rate, he might explode into fragments from your declaration and how good you felt. “You love me?” He bit out, his eyes opening and breaths harsh as he felt you clench again.
You cried out, his hand flying up to brace your head before it hit the door. “So much,” you moaned as you gazed at him. You were the most beautiful person he had ever seen. Fierce in love and loyalty, patient and steadfast. He feared some days he’d need you more than you needed him, but you drove that thought from his mind. “I’m yours.”
“I’m not gonna last,” he warned. He couldn’t with the way you looked at him, the way your walls gripped him, knowing you were his.
“Neither am…” Your mouth fell open as your release hit you, your fluids drenching him. It was a wonder to watch you go over the edge in a blissful orgasm. He wanted to be right there with you.
“There you go. Good girl,” he encouraged, your body still tight around his cock. He erupted in one last thrust, his head falling back with an animalistic roar. “Fuck…”
Bucky braced a hand against the door, the other holding you like a lifeline. If only the two of you were at home so he could properly cuddle with you. His breathing remained ragged for a bit as he came down from his high, your breathing beginning to steady, too. He couldn't help but smile as he took in the sight of you thoroughly ravaged and satisfied. “Worth every second of being here,” he sighed, slowly pulling out of your twitching hole. You inhaled when he moved a hand down and swiped two fingers along the mess seeping out of you. “Clean them off for me, baby,” he ordered huskily, bringing them to your mouth.
Obediently, you parted your lips and allowed him to push his fingers in. You swirled your tongue around them to taste your combined essence, moaning at the tangy flavor. He tucked himself away once you finished up, afraid that he’d fuck you all over again if he didn’t get completely dressed. It didn’t stop him from gazing longingly at you as he fixed his jacket.
And it didn’t stop him from imagining your mouth around his cock the next morning.
“Now.” You grimmaced slightly as he helped you steady yourself and straighten out your dress. He knew that look. It was the look you got for a split second whenever the sticky remnants continued to trickle down your thighs. He loved having that claim on you. “How do you expect me to go back to the gala after that?”
“I don’t,” he smirked, his hands moving back to your hips as he snuck in a gentle kiss. “I think it’s time to get you home and back in our bed where you belong. I promised I’d worship you, remember?”
You nodded, your eyes still slightly dazed. “On one condition.”
He titled his head. “What’s that?”
A slow smile curved your mouth, his heart pounding and cock twitching back to life at your answer, “You put a baby in me tonight.”
So, lovelies, was it okay? I feel rusty. And who wants a future fic of Bucky breeding you? Just me? Love and thanks for reading! ❤️
There is no reason for this. No one asked for it. I have a ton of other things to work on. This is just self indulgent and I hope you all enjoy it!
Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader, Bucky Barnes x Female Reader
Summary: Bucky tried his best not to lose control, but a man can only take so much.
Word Count: 2,277
Warnings: Possessive behavior, it’s really just porn.
18+ Please!!!
This is not beta-read, so any and all mistakes are my own!
Bucky always tried his best to stay in control. After suffering for so long at the hands of HYDRA, losing himself was something he never wanted to experience again. It wasn’t good for him or anyone else. Meeting you tested that and more.
Summary: You hook up with a stranger while you’re out with your friends.
Word Count: Over 2.7k
Warnings: Smut, explicit sexual content, instant connection, lust at first sight (maybe more), consensual unprotected rough sex (wrap it before you tap it), fingering, oral mentioned, dirty talk, drinking (not drunk), term of endearment (sweetheart), quick discussion of birth control and STI, possible feels, confident Bucky Barnes (he's a warning, okay?)
A/N: Inspired by this nonnie. Happy Moanday. ❤️ Not beta read and written on my phone, so any and all mistakes are my own. Divider by the talented @saradika-graphics. Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!
Hooking up with a stranger wasn’t like you, but tonight was different.
You and your friends wanted to let loose after a long week. You couldn’t remember the last time you wore your little black dress and now you had a reason. Your group settled at a club after some bar hopping. You drank enough to feel it but not enough that you couldn’t think straight. Everyone moved to the music, living in the moment.
A few guys tried to dance with you, but you subtly moved away. A couple of your friends frowned and you shrugged. They knew you hadn’t been laid in months, but you weren’t about to fool around with a random guy when you had a perfectly good toy at home.
And then you saw him.
A stranger in all black, from the tight t-shirt down to the boots, watched you from the corner. The handsome man didn’t smile when you two locked eyes. You forgot how to breathe since he wouldn’t look away, his stare somehow both cold and hot. Something told you to run far away because he seemed dangerous.
But a voice in your head said he’d like the chase.
You tried to focus on dancing, but it was difficult with his eyes following your every move. You glanced at him over your shoulder, looking more enticing than you meant to. Or maybe you did it on purpose since it felt good to have his attention on you. You couldn’t understand why since he looked far from safe.
That was part of the appeal, wasn’t it?
Lust and need sizzled up and down your spine when his gaze went over you from head to toe, your instinct warning you not to play with fire. You didn’t care. You wanted to feel the heat. Hell, you wanted him to burn you by the time he was done with you.
“I need a drink,” you told your friends.
You walked through the crowd with purpose, not letting any guys brush against you since you weren’t interested in them. Your heart raced, but you did your best to stand with confidence once you reached the bar. From the quick glance at the man, he was more handsome up close and no less intimidating. His muscles were two seconds from bursting through his clothes and his dark hair framed his face perfectly. The trimmed beard added to his allure.
Oh, the burn was going to feel good.
You held your breath when moved beside you, so close you felt the heat from his body. The heady scent of his cologne made you dizzy once you remembered to breathe. Heat rose in your cheeks when he stared, your throat so dry you weren’t sure if you’d be able to speak.
“Bucky,” he said, his deep voice so low you almost missed it.
“I’m sorry?” you asked, confused.
“Bucky,” he repeated, a hint of warmth in the blue of his eyes. “That’s my name.”
A name you wanted to scream before the night was over.
“Oh,” you breathed, giving him your name in return. “Nice to meet you.”
He licked his lips and said your name, making it sound like something sinful. “Nice to meet you, too.”
“Were you watching me out there?” you asked, already knowing the answer.
He tilted his head. “Did you like me watching you?”
Bucky already knew the answer, too.
You inhaled when his finger dipped under the strap of your dress, lightly tracing your skin. It was a bold move. If it were anyone else, you would’ve smacked their hand away. But his touch lit a fire within you that you hadn’t felt in a long time.
“I think you want me to do more than just watch.” He leaned in close, his breath warm against your ear. “Come with me.”
Your heart pounded in your chest. The request sounded dirty and intimate, which was likely his intention. “Come with you… where?”
“On my cock.” He took your hand with a firm yet gentle grip, your thighs pressing together as his words registered. “Outside.”
You followed without protest as he pulled you along, your breaths shallow. You should’ve yanked your hand away or called for your friends once he reached the door. The man could be a killer for all you knew. Were you so desperate to get dicked down by a hot man that you threw all caution to the wind?
The door shut with a bang, the music from the club muffled as you realized you were in a dimly lit alley. It was the perfect backdrop for something seedy. “I don’t usually fuck strangers,” you blurted out when he faced you.
You didn’t judge anyone who did. Their bodies and choices were their own. But you made it a point not to hook up with random people. There had to be some sort of connection.
Which is exactly what you were feeling with him, so what was the problem?
Maybe the instant chemistry scared you more than you wanted to admit.
“I gave you my name and you gave me yours, so we’re not strangers,” he said.
You laughed because you couldn’t help yourself. His logic was… something. “We’re still strangers.”
“I’m clean,” he said, like that solved everything.
“Congrats. So am I. And I’m on the pill,” you retorted, shaking your head. “Maybe I shouldn’t have come out here.”
His nostrils flared, making you step back as he stepped toward you. You jumped when your back hit the brick wall. “Tell me you don’t want me, and I’ll let you go back inside,” he demanded, grasping your chin and forcing you to meet his gaze. His lips were so close that they grazed yours. “You can forget all about me.”
Your mouth parted. You believed him when he said he’d let you go back inside and you didn’t want to forget him, but he was still a stranger. He could be married or have a partner, at least. You didn’t even know his last name.
But he excited you. Your panties were damp and your nipples were hard against your dress. Your pussy clenched around nothing, begging for some relief. Your body knew what it wanted. That was all you needed to know tonight.
His cold eyes searched yours, waiting for an answer. “You scared of me?” he whispered.
If you didn’t know any better, you would’ve thought he sounded vulnerable. “No,” you whispered back. “I’m not scared of you.”
Maybe you should’ve been, but you weren’t.
His gaze softened, or maybe it was the dim light playing tricks on you. “Say you don’t want me,” he dared, his thumb brushing your lips. “Say it.”
“I can’t,” you whispered, your next breath shaky. “Because we both know I want you.”
“Atta girl.” Bucky smiled, the first time he smiled since you spotted him tonight. “Don’t worry, sweetheart. I’ll take care of you. And if you say stop, I will.”
At least he cared about consent.
“Sweetheart?” You raised an eyebrow. “Did you really just-”
He cut you off, pressing his lips against yours in a demanding kiss. You thought your legs would give out when he bit your bottom lip and swept his tongue inside, a sigh escaping as he dominated your mouth. He didn’t release your chin, tilting your head to give him more access. Every thought faded from your mind, your body melting into his.
Fuck, he was going to ruin you.
The kiss ended far too soon, but heat flowed from your core when he nipped along your throat. His teeth found the sensitive spot where your neck met your shoulder, and he bit down hard enough to make you gasp. His tongue soothed the sting, fueling the fire between you.
How did he know what you needed?
“Fuck,” you whimpered, your legs turning to jelly as his hands roamed your body.
It was crazy. Insane. Maybe you were daydreaming and still out on the dance floor, letting yourself get lost in some fantasy.
“Yeah, I’m gonna fuck you,” he promised, cupping your breast and brushing your nipple through your dress. “Wanted to fuck you as soon as I saw you. Wanted to own you.”
He brought his mouth back to yours, devouring you as he slid a calloused hand between your legs. He ran it up your trembling thigh until he brushed the fabric that barely covered your pussy, robbing you of your breath. Your hips jerked when he rubbed lightly, making you grow wetter by the second.
He pulled back enough to let you breathe and made a rumbling sound of approval. “You’re drenched,” he rasped, shoving your panties aside and brushing a finger through your folds. “Desperate for me.”
You could only nod and moan when he slipped his finger inside you. He groaned at the feel, the sound vibrating through your bones. Pleasure seared down your spine when he added another finger. When was the last time you wanted someone so badly?
Your mouth went dry when he pressed close, feeling his hard cock through his jeans. He was huge. You hoped he split you in half. You wanted to feel him for days.
He stared at you with a predatory hunger as he removed his fingers and brought them to his mouth, growling as he licked them clean. “Such a sweet cunt.”
You shivered, wishing he could have a proper taste.
“And it’s gonna feel even sweeter around my cock.”
Without warning, he spun you around and pressed your front against the cold wall. He hiked your dress up, your underwear still pushed aside, and you barely registered the sound of him unzipping his pants over the rush of blood in your ears. Your breathing picked up when he spread your legs wider.
If anyone walked out and saw you like this…
“Need to be inside you. So beg for it,” he said, the head of his cock breaching your entrance. You tried to squirm when he didn’t push in more, but he held you still. “Beg for me to fuck you.”
You whimpered. Wasn’t your pussy trying to suck him in enough begging? Of course not. He had to hear you say it.
“Fuck me, Bucky,” you begged, not caring how desperate you sounded. “Please.”
God, you were really doing this.
You were about to let some guy you just met fuck you in a alley.
He filled you in one ruthless thrust, you cry echoing in the night air. It was like you felt every ridge and vein of his cock. You had never felt stretched, so full. It was reckless to not use protection, but the feel of his bare cock deep in your pussy heightened your pleasure.
And at least he was kind enough to give you a moment to adjust to his size.
“Fuck, you’re tight,” he grunted, letting you feel every inch of him before he nearly pulled out completely and buried himself deep again. “Practically strangling my cock.”
“Fuck, Bucky,” you moaned, your hands scrambling along the wall for purchase.
“That’s it, sweetheart,” he grunted, setting a steady pace. “Say my name and take my cock like a good girl.”
Oh, you did.
He took you hard and deep, the fog of arousal growing thicker with each movement. Every brutal thrust drove you up on your toes and you could only hold on for the ride. He gripped your hips with a force that bordered on pain, his breath hot and ragged against your neck. No one had ever fucked you like this.
It was dirty and perfect.
A hand moved to your throat, your pulse hammering. The possessive grip wasn’t enough to choke you, but it made you aware of his power and dominance. He was in control and you both knew it.
The world around you stilled until all you knew was him.
You reached back to grip his hair, making him groan. “Please,” you gasped when he thrust faster, his lips moving across your skin.
You almost stopped breathing as the coiling pressure built, your muscles tight and your nerves igniting. Your moans grew louder, mixing with his grunts in a euphoric melody. He was ripping you apart at the seams.
“You need to come, don’t you?” he asked, his hand snaking around to rub your clit. The dual sensations sent shockwaves through your body and you didn’t know how much more you could take. “Do it, sweetheart. Come all over my cock.”
His name was a fractured prayer on your lips as you shattered, your back bowing. You convulsed and clamped around him like a vice, colors swimming in your vision. An arm moved around your waist to keep your legs from giving out and he kept driving into you, your head spinning as he drew out your orgasm and chased his own.
When was the last time you came that hard?
“Knew you’d be perfect,” he gritted, his rhythm starting to falter. “Such a good. Fucking. Girl.”
He groaned your name against your neck when his cock throbbed, his release flooding you. It almost pulled another orgasm from you from how good it felt. If his rough fucking didn’t make you feel owned, him filling you up did.
If he lied about being clean… Well, you took that risk, didn’t you?
He panted and slowly pulled out you, the loss making you whimper. You were still coming down from your high when he turned you around and you almost avoided his gaze. It wasn’t fair that he looked mostly composed while you probably looked wrecked. But there was a hint of satisfaction in his eyes.
That had to be a good sign.
But you swallowed, wondering where you went from there.
Instead of walking off and leaving you there to collect yourself, he fixed your underwear, which were completely ruined thanks to the mixed release leaking out of you. He fixed your dress after with tender hands, smoothing it out as your breathing steadied. His eyes didn’t leave yours when he leaned in and pressed a soft kiss to your lips, a stark contrast to the rough, passionate kiss from earlier. It made your heart flutter.
Oh, no.
Bucky fucked you against an alley wall. Just because you felt butterflies, it didn’t mean he felt anything. How could he when you gave it up so easily?
But why did you have a feeling that he wasn’t the kind of guy who would slut-shame anyone?
“You okay?” he asked, his thumb brushing your warm cheek.
You leaned into his touch without thinking. “Yeah,” you replied, surprised that you could speak and that he asked. “You?”
“Yeah.” He fixed his hair and tucked himself away. “Ditch your friends.”
“What?” you asked, not sure that you heard him correctly.
He stared at you with a faint, almost amused, smile. “Ditch your friends because I’m taking you home and fucking you in my bed.” His tone implied that it wasn’t a suggestion and you didn’t want to protest. “The night’s still young, I didn’t get to see how beautiful you looked when you came on my cock, and I haven’t eaten your pussy yet.”
You laughed breathlessly to cover up the whimper that tried to bubble up. You had wanted to see his face, too. And, fuck, you wanted him to devour you like a starved man.
“So, more sex?” you asked, already feeling that spark of arousal light up again.
The smirk he gave was enough to soak your panties again. “On as many surfaces as possible,” he said, taking your hand. “Oh, and food. Gotta make sure you’re comfortable and well fed.”
Your mouth fell open. He wanted to feed you? And was he implying that you’d stay the night?
“You’re something else,” you breathed.
He chuckled, the sound making you smile, before he snuck in another gentle kiss. You felt that flutter again. “So are you.”
You followed him out of the alley, your body eager for more. You wondered what excuse you’d give your friends for taking off. Surely they’d understand if they got a glimpse of Bucky.
It was reckless to go with him, but maybe it was just the beginning of something more.
Who wants to get dicked down by this man some more? Is it bad that part of me is also leaning soft!dark that he just decides he wants to keep you? Love and thanks for reading! ❤️
Pairing: Actor!Bucky Barnes x Actress!Female Reader
Summary: You and Bucky sneak off to have some fun at a screening, but he's tired of sneaking around.
Word Count: Over 1.8k
Warnings: Secret relationship, smut, explicit sexual content, fingering, mention of unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it), breeding kink, possessive behavior, dirty talk, term of endearment (sweetheart), slight feels, Bucky Barnes (he's a warning, okay?)
A/N: Inspired by a gif @biteofcherry sent me. Happy Moanday. ❤️ Not beta read and written on my phone, so any and all mistakes are my own. Divider by the talented @saradika-graphics. Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!
Your heart almost stops when you see Bucky Barnes on the carpet.
Still single, according to the tabloids.
If they only knew about you two.
He ended things amicably with Natasha Romanoff months before he even met you, but his agent insisted it would tank his image to be seen with someone new too soon. He hates it. Says you deserve to be seen with him in the light and not behind closed doors. But you both get it and play along after people trashed his ex for dating another guy.
So, you arrive separately to the screening, keep your distance, and remind yourself to act like nothing more than acquaintances. No slip-ups. No lingering gazes that the cameras might catch.
But the second Bucky spots you, his eyes sweep over you in a slow and claiming stare, and you forget how to breathe.
The man has never been good at pretending you’re not his.
He looks good, of course, looking every bit like a man on top. Confident, perfectly styled hair and suit, his beard growing out just enough to still look put together. He even has a slutty chain to compliment his panty-dropping smirk.
Everyone sees a star while you see the man who had you in his bed last night.
He’ll have you again before the night is over.
“Love falling asleep and waking up beside you.”
You should be good. You should stay away. But you decide you want him then and there when he gives you that look.
It isn’t your fault he follows and corners you when you manage to slip away from the crowd and noise for a few minutes. It’s not like you purposely flash your leg through the slit of your dress when you walk past him. And you don’t mean to look over your shoulder and give him those “fuck me” eyes.
Okay, maybe you do.
Still, it’s all his fault.
Because you’re just a woman who knows what it feels like to have Bucky Barnes inside you and you can’t help wanting him.
“Hey you.”
“Hey,” you breathe, thinking how lucky you are to know the man beyond the glamour.
“We don’t have much time,” he says, the intoxicating scent of his cologne filling your nostrils once he has you where he wants you.
“Still enough time for you to get me off,” you reply sweetly.
He isn’t fooled by the innocent look you give him when he shoves your dress up enough to get his hand between your thighs. It’s not like he needs to feel the fabric barely covering your pussy to know you’re wet. He knows.
He always knows.
He knows what you taste like and how his name sounds on your lips when you come. He knows how to make you beg for more even if it feels like too much. He knows how good you are for him but not-so-secretly loves when you tease him.
Bucky also knows how to make you smile and stop your tears.
“Like I didn’t get you off this morning?” he asks, raising an eyebrow.
Your face gets hot as you remember falling apart in his arms. He held you like you were something precious after. It almost brought tears to your eyes.
“You did, but that was hours ago.”
“Needy girl. Can’t even wait ‘til later,” he taunts in your ear, his hand simply resting there when you grip his wrist, heating seeping through with your wetness. “Say ‘please’, sweetheart.”
The endearment sounds condescending and intimate all at once and you whimper, your hips shifting. “Hurry up,” you snarl.
He presses his palm closer, but nothing more. “That doesn’t sound like ‘please’, does it?” he asks, his lips ghosting yours as you tremble. If you two were truly alone, he’d put you over his knee and spank you. “Be good and say ‘please’.”
There’s a slight growl in his demand and you narrow your eyes. You need to get off and he knows it. There’s also satisfaction in his steel eyes that you don’t beg for any other man.
Only him.
“Please, Bucky,” you whisper.
“Please what?” he asks casually, pulling the flimsy fabric aside.
You gasp when his fingers move along your center slowly, like he has all the time in the world. “Please, Bucky, touch me. Please, get me off,” you beg, wishing he could fuck you but knowing you’d have him later. “I need you.”
You need all of him.
He chuckles, lazily moving through your slick folds. “I do love you desperate and dripping for me. Love it even more when you ask nicely.”
He swallows down your gasp when he suddenly shoves two fingers inside, curling them and making your back arch. His tongue moves against yours frantically and you know he wants to get you off quickly since there’s a chance someone may catch you. That only fuels your desire for him more.
You try to grip his hair, but he swiftly pins your hand above your head. You whine at being denied. He better feast on your pussy later so you can pull it all you want.
“Such a good girl for me,” he praises when he breaks the kiss, his forehead resting against yours as he draws pleasure from you. His fingers drag in and out in time with your breaths and you feel your orgasm building fast. “Gonna smell you on my fingers the whole night. It’ll hold me over ‘til I fuck you.”
Heat coils. Your legs tremble. It’ll be torture for both of you to wait, but at least you’ll get to come.
Who says Bucky isn’t a giver?
“And guess what? I’m finally gonna fuck you raw.” He smirks as you teeter on the edge, seconds away from falling. “That’s it, sweetheart. Give it to me.”
His mouth covers yours again when you cry out, your body tensing before melting. Ecstasy flows through you like lava and his fingers work you through every second of your climax. He doesn’t stop until you whimper, your heart pounding as you register the words.
“I’m finally gonna fuck you raw.”
“You’re so beautiful,” he sighs.
You always feel beautiful with him.
“What…” you breathe once he removes his fingers and licks them clean with a smile, like a cat who got the cream. “What… did you say?”
He tilts his head. “You heard me.” Instead of merely smoothing out your dress, he tugs your underwear down and makes you step out of them. “I’m gonna fuck you raw,” he says again, tucking them into his pocket.
Your mouth parts, your pussy throbs, and he takes advantage of your stunned silence with another deep kiss.
Bucky always uses a condom. Neither of you are seeing anyone else, so there’s no risk of diseases, but birth control isn’t full proof. The extra layer of protection helps.
But both of you want your wet pussy around his bare cock.
“Maybe I’ll even fuck a baby into you,” he whispers, something dark and tender in his gaze before pulling you away from the wall. “Finally show everyone you’re mine.”
Your eyes widen.
Is he serious?
“Really? You’ll knock me up at the height of our careers?” you tease, trying to keep your voice light to hide how your pulse is jumping.
“Yes,” he replies with such conviction that it makes you pause.
He’s dead serious.
“Bucky, the public doesn’t even know we’re a couple. Your agent’s call, remember?” you remind him gently. “We’re supposed to be careful.”
You wish it didn’t have to be that way, but you get the timing and optics. You understand the game. Fooling around seconds ago was risky enough.
Thankfully, the paparazzi has never spotted you near either of your homes.
He steps close enough that you almost take a step back, but you remain rooted to the spot. “He doesn’t get a say anymore,” he says, his voice steady and territorial in a way that makes your knees weak. “I’m done sneaking around. I’m done pretending you’re not mine.”
Your heart stutters because he really isn’t kidding.
“Are you sure?” You swallow, trying not to let tears fill your eyes. “This is your career we’re talking about.”
You don’t want to contribute to tarnishing his image, especially after seeing Natasha put through the ringer for moving on.
Then again, men and women aren’t always held to the same standards, which isn’t at all fair.
“I’ve never been more sure of anything.” His eyes lock with yours and he smiles, your heart melting. “I want everyone to know you’re my girl.”
His girl.
All you want is to be his. You want to walk down the street with him and hold his hand. You want date nights and vacations together between filming. It isn’t too much to ask.
You two waited long enough.
You can’t stop yourself from smiling back and sneaking in a kiss that ends far too soon. “I do, too.”
“Good.” He licks his lips, like he’s fighting the urge to push you against the wall. “Now go before I practice breeding you right here.”
You shiver at the combination of warning and want in his tone.
“But don’t stray too far,” he adds softly. “I need at least one photo with you at the after-party.”
Your heart skips a beat. “I won’t stray too far,” you promise.
There’s no more flirting or teasing when you walk away, his eyes on you until you’re out of sight. Your head is still spinning from it all. And then you let yourself laugh.
Bucky wants to fuck you raw and breed you? He wants everyone to know you’re together? He wants to go against his agent?
Jesus, he wants a future with you. A real one. One without secrecy or careful distance or agents dictating the terms. He wants to stop hiding.
So do you.
And when he gives you that look later at the after-party and beckons for you to join him, you know he’s thinking about what transpired and what’s to come.
“You sure?” you ask again, wanting him to be certain.
“I’m sure, sweetheart,” he murmurs, spotting a photographer nearby before kissing your lips. “I’m sure.”
Bucky hopes his agent loses his shit.
Serves him right for making him sneak around with you like a dirty little secret when you deserve more than that. He’s done letting someone else decide what the two of you are allowed to be. He’s done pretending.
And he’s counting down the seconds until he gets you alone and convinces you to throw your birth control out. He’ll fuck you with nothing between you this time. He isn’t going to let you leave his bed. Not until you’re pumped nice and full of him.
Not until the whole world knows you belong to him.
Just the way it should be.
Who wants to get bred by Bucky? And maybe his agent wants you for himself. 😏 Love and thanks for reading! ❤️
Pairing: Janitor!Bucky Barnes x Teacher!Female Reader
Summary: Bucky reflects in the quiet of his home and debates if he should text you or not.
Word Count: Over 2k
Warnings: Insecurities, longing, loneliness, overanalyzing, implied PTSD, service dog, term of endearment (sweetheart), Bucky's POV, Bucky Barnes (he's a warning, okay?)
Previous Part of Beneath the Surface: After the Bell
A/N: More Beneath the Surface with our soft-spoken janitor! ❤️ Beta read by the wonderful @mumbles411, but any and all mistakes are my own. Divider by the talented @saradika-graphics. Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!
It was quiet when Bucky got home, the kind he was used to and normally looked forward to. But tonight felt too quiet. There was no laughter, no one there to greet him since he lived alone. His chest tightened as the silence surrounded him. It was nights like this when he remembered how lonely he was.
Then he thought of your smile and the knot in his chest loosened.
He set his keys in the bowl as Bear padded in behind him, his nails clicking gently along the floor. He shrugged out of his coat a little slower than usual, almost like he was lost in thought. Maybe he was since your phone number was in his pocket and he still couldn’t believe you had given it to him.
“I’m really glad you stopped by my classroom tonight.”
Bucky smiled to himself. He was used to most of the teachers and staff not paying much attention to him since he began working at the school. They weren’t rude by any means. They just… overlooked him.
He didn’t mind it most days. It didn’t stop him from taking his job seriously and doing it well. The kids were nice to him and they adored his gentle giant of a dog. It made the days a little easier. Not perfect, but not bad either.
Then you showed up with your warm smile, making a point to acknowledge him. He was certain he stared at you like an idiot because he hadn’t known how to respond to your kindness. It didn’t fade after that initial meeting. You kept smiling and always greeted him, making him feel a little less invisible. It made him believe he was something special in your eyes.
But why would he be?
A weary sigh escaped before he could stop it. He wouldn’t say he had a low opinion of himself. He was conventionally attractive by some standards and didn’t have a bad personality. But he didn’t have the same charm he possessed when he was younger.
Things happened.
He changed.
Everything changed.
He wondered what you would’ve thought of him if you knew him then.
Bear brushed against his leg when he stood there longer than necessary, making him blink. “Sorry,” he muttered.
He bent down, his hands moving on autopilot to remove his boots and give Bear an extra pet. He was a steady and patient companion, always staying close. He really was great with the kids, a calm presence in the chaos. It shouldn’t have come to a surprise to him that his dog liked you, too.
Bucky moved to the couch and sat down, his eyes sweeping across the room. His place was functional and comfortable, but without bursts of color or brightness. Even the blanket draped over the cushion beside him was dark.
His home felt bigger at night. Emptier. He shook the thought away, reminding himself that he had a lot to be thankful for, like his health. Regular exercise kept him in shape. He had a roof over his head and food in his stomach, which was more than a lot of people had. He had good friends in his life and Bear. And now he had you.
At least, he hoped he did.
He took the post-it note out of his pocket slowly, like it might disintegrate if he wasn’t careful. He traced the curve of one of the numbers with his thumb. Your phone number. You really gave it to him.
And you wrote it down with one of the pens he left for you.
He almost didn’t stop by your classroom today. Not because he didn’t want to see you, but because he didn’t want to intrude. Not only did you welcome him into your space, you seemed to enjoy him being there. Your company both soothed and excited him.
Bear climbed on the couch and stared at Bucky.
“She said I could call,” he said, tracing the number again. “Didn’t say I should tonight.”
Bear tilted his head.
“It’s too soon,” he whispered. “I don’t wanna look desperate.”
His dog huffed softly.
“Don’t huff at me like that. I haven’t done this in a while, and I don’t wanna mess it up.” He swallowed hard. “Not with her.”
He hadn’t let himself want anything in so long. It was easier that way. It was less of a risk of being too much or not enough for someone. He really didn’t want to ruin something good before it even started.
His eyes shut. You deserved someone uncomplicated. Not a man who woke up in the middle of the night covered in sweat with his heart pounding. Not someone who needed a dog to remind him to breathe when he was triggered.
But he wanted to try.
Bear shifted close and rested his head on Bucky’s knee, whining as if he sensed the inner struggle.
“She smiled when she gave me her number and she looks forward to me stopping by,” he said quietly, sinking his fingers into the dog’s fur. “So, maybe a text tonight wouldn’t be a bad thing.”
His heart skipped a beat at the thought of you checking your phone, waiting to hear from him.
He could already imagine reactions from Steve and Sam if they knew he was mentally stressing over sending a text message. Steve, his best friend since childhood, would encourage him with a gentle smile to reach out. Sam, a friend he made later in life through Steve, would bust his balls in the “friendliest” of manners until he sent the text. Both of them want him to be happy.
He wanted the same for his best friends.
Bucky exhaled and reached for his phone, the device feeling heavier than normal in his hand. His thumb hovered over the screen until Bear nudged his hand. “Okay, okay,” he muttered.
He typed in your phone number and checked it twice to make sure he entered it correctly. He swallowed, carefully typing a short message. It was just a text. There was no reason to feel so nervous.
“Hey. It’s Bucky.”
He stared at the message. It was direct. It would let you know it was him. But it felt a little bland.
He deleted it and started over.
“Hi. It’s Bucky. Just wanted to say hi. Did you get home okay?”
That was better. Considerate. But asking a question implied that you’d have to answer, which might seem a little overbearing and he didn’t want you to feel obligated to reply. And he said “hi” twice.
He deleted that message, too.
“Hey. It’s Bucky. Thanks for letting me hang out with you after school.”
His face scrunched up. Hang out after school? It made it sound like you were kids instead of adults.
“Why is this so difficult?” he muttered, running a hand through his hair.
There was nothing wrong with any of his texts. He needed to stop overanalyzing and just send something. Anything.
“Hey. It’s Bucky. Thanks for today. Talking with me and letting me walk you to your car. I hope you made it home safely. And I’m really glad I stopped by.”
His heart raced as he read the message to Bear. “Is that too much?”
His tail thumped, which he took as his cue that it was just fine.
“Okay.” He took a deep breath. “I’m hitting send.”
The sound of the message being sent sounded loud in the quiet space.
Bucky immediately tossed the phone on the coffee table. “That’s it,” he said, his knee bobbing. “I’m not looking at it.”
He leaned his head back and looked at the ceiling, his knee continuing to bob impatiently. He did that for about five seconds before he grabbed his phone again. Disappointment filled him when the screen stayed dark before he scoffed.
“Idiot. It’s been five seconds,” he mumbled.
He once went through hell that many didn’t know about, but waiting for a text response was a special kind of torture.
Jesus, if Steve and Sam could only see him right now, gripping his phone like a lifeline.
“She has a life,” he reminded himself when the screen continued not to light up. “She could be making dinner or grading more papers…”
He sat up straighter, remembering the snow globes on your desk while you graded papers. His attention had been on you when you shook one, your smile making his heart flutter. It was so beautiful. Everything about you was.
He tapped the screen, not to check for a text this time. He opened a browser and typed in “gift shops near me”. Supporting local businesses was important to him, and you did say it was okay if he gave you a snow globe. Maybe he could take a look over the weekend.
“What am I doing? I haven’t even asked her on a date yet,” he muttered, the corner of his mouth lifting when his dog nudged his thigh. “I don’t want to get her something she already has.”
He couldn’t get you just any snow globe. It had to be something special. Something… well, like you.
Just the thought of you smiling at something he chose for you, your eyes soft and warm and-
The phone buzzed in his hand.
He almost dropped it, his heart leaping to his throat when he saw your number pop up. You messaged him. You messaged him back.
Bear lifted his head and stared at it, too, understanding that it was important.
“Here goes nothing,” he whispered, heart continuing to race when he opened the message, eagerly reading every word.
“Hey, Bucky! I was hoping to hear from you. Yes, I made it home safely. Thanks again for today, too. I hope your night’s going well so far!”
He was still absorbing your words when another message popped up.
“I still have a little bit more work to do, but texting you is more fun.”
A slow, disbelieving smile crossed his face before he softly chuckled. You hoped to hear from him. You wanted to text him. It helped melt his nerves away.
“She wanted to hear from me,” he told Bear, who nudged his hand in response.
He felt much lighter as he replied.
“Night’s not too bad so far. Quiet. I hope the rest of your work goes by fast. Always happy to text or provide a distraction.”
He snapped a quick photo of Bear and sent it.
“He’s happy to distract you, too.”
Bucky chuckled again. Steve and Sam would be proud of him for using his dog to flirt a little. Hell, he was proud of himself for taking a step to put himself out there.
He barely set the phone down when it buzzed again. It surprised him how quickly you messaged him, but he saw it as a good sign. Maybe you were like him, looking at the phone and waiting.
“Oh, my goodness! Hi, Bear! What a wonderful distraction. Please, give him a pet for me.”
He pet the dog’s head and ran his fingers through his fur. “This pet is from her. You’re a wonderful distraction.”
His tail thumped hard enough to shake the cushion.
“Bear appreciates the pet and praise.” He hesitated before adding another line. “I’ll let you get back to work, but I’m here if you need anything, sweetheart.”
Bucky’s heart sank when he hit send. He didn’t want to take up your time if you had other things to do. Maybe he shouldn’t have added “sweetheart” to that. He still couldn’t believe he said that earlier. It was too much.
“I appreciate that, Bucky. I’m here if you need anything, too.”
He reread the message three times, a kind of warmth settling over him that he hadn’t felt in a long time.
He leaned back against the cushion. He’d have to get up eventually to feed himself and Bear, but he was taking in the quiet again. It didn’t feel lonely anymore. It felt hopeful.
You did that.
And he was going to find you the perfect snow globe.
