😫😫😫

getting old = milf/dilf years

Aging is hot. Gray hairs are hot. Smile lines are hot. Get with it.

click- b. barnes

pairings: bucky barnes x reader, steve rogers, alpine warnings: about: requested! Some really wholesome fluff of Bucky coming back from a long mission (i may have gotten carried away and barely included the fluff i am so sorry)

“i miss you.”

“i miss you too.”

the words are an echo now, your tongue so used to the taste of them that it has become as habitual as i love you; so constant, the pain is a throb you’re afraid to nudge, the ruby of the blood in them resting in the crevices of the soft smile that bucky can’t see.

“i don’t think this is fair,” you say into the phone, lightly tugging on a strand of your hair in bitten-down frustration. “this isn’t fair,” you decide instead, pupils catching on the faded blue of the shirt bucky left behind before leaving, completely void of the remnants of him that used to settle you.

“i know,” bucky agrees from the phone, voice not as kind as you know it is with the gravel of the phone. “i’m sorry, honey.”

“it’s not your fault,” you shrug, uncaring that he can’t see the action. “this is just so—two weeks is two weeks, you know? it’s unfair. you should be able to go home by now.”

“you don’t know how bad i wanna go home, sweetheart,” bucky replies, “steve is not a tidy guy and i miss my girls.”

at the mention of her, alpine meows, nudging your arm with her head. you smooth her fur down, cooing softly at her. “we miss you too,” you tell him honestly, eyeing the picture with him you have on your nightstand. “are you sure it’s only another two weeks?” you ask, having already resigned on fighting it after enough two weeks were added and bucky had been gone for nearly a month.

“that’s what they said. s’what i’m hoping. no more extensions because shield can’t get their shit together.” his tone is biting with frustration, the repetition of the excuse weary from his lips, angry because of the use.

“yeah,” you whisper instead of pointing it out. “i just want to get you home already. i don’t think i’ll let you leave for double the time this stupid fuckin’ mission took. i’ll hide you in my apartment if i have to.”

bucky’s laugh is just a glimpse filtered through the phone, but you grasp onto it anyways, running gentle fingers over the sound.

“i can’t wait,” he responds.

“me neither.”

it’s an unkind silence that settles between you two, steve’s bed whining about him moving reminding you further of the fact that bucky was so far away.

“please come home soon,” you blurt, unable to help the plead that you know is out of bucky’s control, but he understands, playing along with a smile of spiteful hope.

“i’ll be home before you know it.”

the call clicks when it ends, a soft sigh leaving your lips as your phone dims, your eyes landing on your reflection in your mirror.

-

“has steve been letting you sleep?” you question, phone between your ear and your shoulder as you move around the kitchen, trying to prepare the meal bucky usually makes you when you feel upset.

“of course not,” bucky retorts, steve’s muffled offense making you laugh lightly.

“i told you that you should’ve taken those ear things,” you remind, quickly turning to the timer to make sure you have enough time to make something extra.

“i know,” bucky replies sheepishly, “you’re always right, i dunno why i didn’t.”

“you’ll be back soon anyways,” you point out—hopefully, wishfully—as you begin to chop veggies.

“yeah,” bucky follows along, willing the fact that the words were out there, spoken like they were the truth to become so, even if previous experience had taught him otherwise. “‘m gonna be back soon, so it’s not gonna be a problem for long. but not one i’m gonna miss.”

you slow your pace with the knife to stare pointlessly at the carrots on your plate. “so how was today?” you ask the phone on the counter.

“it was a day. missions are no fun without you, you know that.”

“missions aren’t fun period,” you chuckle. “they’re missions. they’re dirty and bloody and exhausting.”

“but you can’t tell me they’re not more fun with me there with ya, doll.”

you smile even though he can’t see you, putting down the blade to forget about the carrots and set your chin in your hands. “you’re right, i can’t say that. missions are definitely fun with you there, even if you’re only distracting me the whole time.”

“you just look so pretty, i can’t help myself.”

you shake your head, sighing through a bashful smile as you laugh. “so you like the whole messy, tired assassin look i have going on?”

“i like all the looks.”

you groan, letting your head drop, face heating like it always does when bucky flirts with you, even if it’s through the crackle of your phone’s speakers. “stop talking me up, buck, you’re gonna give me a big head.”

“i gotta make sure you know,” bucky excuses, and you can imagine his nonchalant shrug as he says it, the easy way he praises you. the cold of your granite counter brings you back to your reality, the reminder that your image of him is just that; an image.

“i do know,” you admit, letting your head roll so your cheek is pressed again the table. “i do.”

there’s a sweet silence that is short-lived, because your smoke alarm begins to go off and steve begins to bark orders at your boyfriend, his commands screeching with urgency but drowned by the shrieks of your alarm. you hastily grab your phone as you finally look up to see the food you thought still had time too dark to be edible, your kitchen foggy with smoke.

“is everything okay?” you muster into your phone as you jog to your kitchen, turning off the stove and grabbing the pan of burnt food, wincing when you burn yourself.

“fuck,” bucky grunts, “something happened. what’s that sound?”

you nod without realizing he can’t see you, reaching up to turn off your alarm but remembering you can’t reach. “the smoke alarm, it’ll be fine. be safe, okay?”

“you too. i love you.”

you turn to grab a long wooden spoon to silence the sound you can’t reach, standing on your tiptoes to poke at it. “i love you too.”

the call ends with a click as the sounds finally quiet, and you’re left alone in your kitchen with burnt food and a hand cradled against your chest, worry already beginning to blossom at the bottom of your stomach.

-

“but everything’s okay now?” you ask for the third time, playing with the bandage on your hand as you ignore your cereal.

“steve made a really big deal out of nothing. i coulda kept you on,” bucky assures. “what was it that happened over there again?”

“i burnt some food,” you admit, mindlessly running gentle fingertips over the white dressing over your palm. “you distracted me,” you try to excuse.

“is that what happened the other times?” he teases.

“yes, actually,” you quip. “but i’ve decided to stave off actual stove cooking until you’re back. to be safe.”

“that seems smart. i don’t want you burning down the house.”

you ignore him, “i’ve been eating cereal for a lot of meals in the past two days.”

“unhealthy.”

“this is why i need you here,” you insist, “at least when you’re distracting me here, you can turn off the stupid smoke alarm quicker.”

“of course.”

“and i’ve never gotten burnt with you here.”

“you burned yourself?” bucky repeats, and you can hear some creaks in the background.

“only a little,” you murmur, “and cho got me all fixed up almost immediately.” you pick up a piece of cereal with your fingers, pushing it into your mouth, surprised at the fact that you’re not sick of it yet.

“are you eating cereal again? stop eating cereal with your hands, you’re going to hurt yourself more.”

you pause, surprised that he could tell. “no.”

“get a spoon.”

“i have one,” you pick it up, aimlessly mixing around the cereal in your mug to prove a point. “will you make me that thing i like when you come back?”

“whatever you want, honey.”

you sigh softly, the term of endearment hitting a part of you that makes you yearn. “i miss you again,” you complain.

bucky laughs, “me too.”

there’s a knock at the door that makes you stand, lazily heading to your door to sign for your package.

“when will you be back again?” you request.

“sooner than you think,” bucky answers cryptically, making you frown as you pull open the door.

“what does that me-”

you gasp when you see him on the other side of the door, exhaustion written across his features, blurred out by the happiness that makes his eyes shine once he sees you. he’s rolling his feet in anticipation of your reaction, grunting softly when you crash into him, letting your phone drop.

“bucky!” you greet excitedly, pulling him even closer when he wraps his arms around you.

“i came back a little early,” bucky informs, pressing his nose into your hair to press kisses along your crown. “i missed you.”

you shut your eyes as you melt in his embrace, treasuring his unfiltered voice and the warmth of him as he holds you. “i missed you too.”

there’s a pain that shoots up when your injured hand curls around his shirt, but you can’t find it in you to care as much when you finally get to breathe him in, realizing how much you truly missed your bucky, remembering how much you hated having him leave for so long.

bucky pulls away only so he can look into your eyes, giving you a relieved smile before he kisses you, nudging his nose against yours.

you draw back after a few seconds, letting your foreheads drop against each other, observing each other in all their reality. “i’m so glad you’re back,” you laugh shakily, overcome with the truth of it. your voice echoes back through your phones, making the both of you laugh as you move to hang up.

the call ends, but with the heat of bucky’s hand in yours, it doesn’t hurt to hear the click.

IMAGINE HIM PUTTING THAT RING AROUND A CHAIN AND GIVING IT TO YOU THO

HIS FUCKING INITIALS???!!!??!?????? THATS SO DAMN SEXY ITS A FUCKING FALLS DOWN THERE KITTY IS ROARING

---

by WinterSabbath

Peter: I’m not saying that Rogers is in Barnes’ house but that’s exactly what I’m saying

MJ: They’ve only been dating for like a few months

Peter: THEY HAVE THE SAME WALL COLOR

Words: 1302, Chapters: 1/1, Language: English

Series: Part 2 of Mr. Rogers & Mr. Barnes

Fandoms: Marvel Cinematic Universe

Rating: General Audiences

Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply

Categories: M/M

Characters: James “Bucky” Barnes, Steve Rogers, Peter Parker, Ned Leeds, Michelle Jones

Relationships: James “Bucky” Barnes/Steve Rogers

Additional Tags: Alternate Universe - Teachers, Humor, Conspiracy, Established Relationship, Moving In Together, Texting, Online Classes, Fluff, Teacher Bucky Barnes, Teacher Steve Rogers, Teacher/Teacher, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - No Powers

oh my. we love a steamy scene

the art of pretending [one-shot]

marvel au bucky x agent!reader

being mentored by bucky is nothing short of torture; he’s cold, infuriating, and impossible to please. but when a mission gone wrong leaves you stranded in a freezing safehouse together, you start to wonder if all that supposed hatred has just been hiding something else entirely.

Warnings: 18+ content minors dni, smut, shower sex, unprotected sex, fingering, forced proximity, one bed, kissing, enemies to lovers-ish?, sexual tension, sparring, mentor bucky, bickering, insults, violence, bit of blood/gore/wound descriptions, bucky has issues, protective bucky, slut shaming (not from bucky), no use of y/n, lmk if i've missed anything

Word Count: 12.4k

A/N: hi! this is for some requests i received (one and two). i combined two of the requests because they were pretty similar, hope thats okay and i hope you enjoy! this took me... so long to write. i hope it doesn't flop <3 sorry for any typos - not proof read.

main masterlist

You had two goals for the night: get shitfaced and get railed. So, catching your asshole boyfriend wrist-deep in some girl’s panties, doing the kind of finger work he never even bothered to learn for you, wasn’t part of your itinerary.

You could’ve cried, you could’ve begged, or collapsed into a sad cliché with a tub of ice cream and Sex and the City reruns. But no, you had a mission, and one mission alone. Get so unbelievably drunk on whatever you could get your hands on, so drunk in fact that you wanted to black out before midnight and preferably unconscious until sunset the next day.

Tony’s penthouse parties weren’t usually your scene. Too many sleazy rich men with superiority complexes, trophy wives sipping champagne through botoxed grins, and a carousel of extras that Stark always vehemently denied were hookers. What you did know was that, being an agent for S.H.I.E.L.D., your name was always on the list, and tonight, free top-shelf booze felt like divine intervention.

You just had to get in, get drunk, and avoid eye contact with your co-workers long enough to pull off a quiet mental breakdown and ignore the fact that you were rather underdressed for the type of party Stark was hosting. Scantily clad club clothing clashed hard with the pearls and Prada crowd.

A few raised brows and vague greetings followed you as you slithered through the gathering. 

But you held back a groan when you spotted the trio parked at the bar: Yelena, Steve, and Bucky. Great. The Greek god chorus of shame, in all their sculpted, judgmental glory. They looked just as uncomfortable as you felt, loitering by the bar instead of mingling with Stark’s circus.

You ignored their stares and made a beeline for the shelves behind the bartender—some poor kid who looked far too green for this gig. He gave you a look of dismay as you grabbed a bottle of tequila without asking. Slamming down a shot glass, you poured with shaky hands and knocked it back with the elegance of a car crash.

You barely registered the silence that followed until you glanced up and saw the stunned expressions staring back at you.

Yelena was the first to speak. “What happened to you? You never come to these things.”

You poured another shot. “Free drinks,” you muttered, then downed it, already lining up the next. No salt. No lime. Just pain, raw and unfiltered, sliding down your throat.

“I thought you were going out with your boyfriend?” She continued to press, while Steve looked rather scandalised as he watched you swallow back your third shot in a row with a shudder. 

Yelena reached over and snatched the bottle from your hand before you could pour again. “You should slow down.”

​​You blinked at her, teeth gritted, blood thrumming loud in your ears. She meant well. Of course she did. You’d always gotten along—ever since she’d been assigned as your mentor in your early days at S.H.I.E.L.D. You two had clicked effortlessly. It was all a part of S.H.I.E.L.D.’s long-term strategy to make field missions run smoother and reduce casualties. Avengers were paired with up-and-coming agents to pass down their experience and training, with the hope that one day, those hard-earned skills would save lives.

But everything changed when they reassigned you.

You’d been told it was to ‘broaden your skillset’, that it was about growth, adaptability, and learning from different leadership styles. What they didn’t say was that it would mean training under James Buchanan Barnes, aka Mr. No-Praise-All-Pain.

You’d tried. Really. At first, you gave it your all. Took his criticism, bit your tongue, pushed harder. But Bucky didn’t bend. He didn’t compliment. Didn’t guide. He just judged, cold and final, like every failure confirmed whatever low expectations he had of you.

Five months of that, and you were drowning. You begged for reassignment—back to Yelena, to Natasha, to anyone—but were denied every time. Some higher-up probably thought your mutual disdain was ‘motivating’, like locking two angry wolves in a cage and expecting them not to rip each other’s throats out.

And now here he was. Bucky Barnes. His suit jacket was slung carelessly over the back of his bar stool, his tie loosened just enough to reveal the sharp line of his collarbone. His dress shirt clung to his muscular frame, sleeves rolled to his elbows, exposing those unfairly defined forearms and the gleam of vibranium wrapped around a bottle of beer. His expression was stony, but familiar—stern brow, mouth set in a tight line, like he was already displeased with you and you hadn’t even said a word yet.

That look. That look you couldn’t stand.

Disappointment, or maybe pity. You couldn’t tell. Either way, it made your skin itch.

You wanted to punch him in his sullen, pouty face.

Instead, you laughed bitterly and reached for the bottle again, only for Yelena to hold it further away, firm.

“I said slow down,” she warned.

You made a face at Yelena. “Uh, you can’t talk. I saw you do shots out of a candle holder once.”

She didn’t even blink.

“Yes. And you called me messy. So I stopped.” She turned away just long enough to vanish the tequila bottle from sight like some sleight-of-hand magician. “This is me returning the favour. Stop it. You’re being messy.”

You barked out a harsh laugh and rubbed a hand down your face, smearing frustration across your cheeks. “You know what’s messy? My boyfriend. Well—ex-boyfriend.”

Across the bar, Bucky shook his head and muttered something low under his breath. You didn’t catch it, but you were sure it was vile because even Steve glanced over at him in disbelief, his eyebrows climbing high. Great. Judgment from Captain Morality and the Tin Soldier. Just what you needed.

Yelena sighed, already exhausted. “What did he do this time?”

You could tell she was reaching the end of her patience, and honestly, it was fair. She’d been your reluctant witness through the entire tragic saga of your love life. Two and a half years of emotional landmines and loser boyfriends who all somehow managed to be worse than the last. It was impressive, in a bleak kind of way.

You gestured vaguely, your expression somewhere between rage and disbelief. “I was supposed to meet him at some sleazy club downtown, his buddy was DJing—-fucking terrible DJ by the way. I’d barely walked in the door when I caught him in a back booth, fingering some girl who wasn’t even trying to be subtle about it!”

Yelena’s lips pursed. Steve stared like he’d never heard someone use the word ‘fingering’ out loud before.

“What did you do?” Yelena asked, her voice low, careful.

“Oh, the usual,” you said sweetly. “I punched him. Hard. He hit the floor like a sack of shit. Then I stepped on his hand until I felt something snap.”

Steve choked on his beer, coughing violently into his elbow. Bucky just watched you with the world's best poker face, a slight clench in his jaw muscles. 

You smiled at Steve, feral and unbothered. “Don’t worry, Cap. He won’t be playing DJ with anyone’s body parts anytime soon.”

Yelena gave a low whistle, somewhere between impressed and alarmed. “You actually broke his hand?”

“Felt like justice.” You shrugged. “Plus, he was always texting with that hand. Two birds, one stomp.”

“That’s assault,” Steve managed, his voice slightly strangled.

“Oh, please,” you said, rolling your eyes. “We’ve all done worse.”

Across the bar, Bucky finally spoke, his voice gravel-edged and unimpressed. “And now you’re here, drinking like a lunatic in front of half the team. Real graceful recovery.”

Your shoulders tensed, that familiar heat creeping up your spine.

“I’m not showing up for training tomorrow,” you said flatly. “Hell, I don’t plan on being conscious tomorrow.”

Bucky didn’t miss a beat. “It’s going on your report.”

Your mid-year report. Just another excuse for Bucky to publicly drag you, whining to the higher-ups about what a terrible mentee you were. How you needed to ‘apply yourself’, ‘show initiative’, or whatever corporate nonsense they lapped up. And of course, those same higher-ups were always looking for a reason to cut dead weight. One misstep, and you were done.

“Of course it is,” you snapped, spinning on your heel. “You miserable, ancient cunt.”

Steve choked on his beer again.

Without another word, you reached behind the overwhelmed bartender, who looked about five seconds from quitting, and grabbed the nearest bottle. You didn’t even look at the label. You stormed off with tequila already burning in your veins and spite lighting the way. 

—

You were leaning casually against the wall outside the gym’s changing rooms, dressed in workout gear that was probably a little more flattering than necessary. Tight enough to flatter your waist, breathable enough to pass as practical. Around you, the low hum of chatter buzzed from a small group of fellow agents. You were killing time before your dreaded one-on-one training session with Barnes.

Theo leaned a shoulder beside yours, towelling sweat from the back of his neck. He’d been an agent about as long as you had—charming, competent, and a little too easy to get along with. The two of you were part of that unofficial after-hours crew: drinks on Fridays, complaints about the job, stumbling home tipsy and hungover texts on Saturday mornings.

“You’re on sparring duty all week too?” Theo asked, glancing at you with mock pity. “I swear Rogers gets off on making me eat mat.”

“I know what you mean. Barnes definitely loves making me suffer,” you replied with a grimace. “That man has a personal vendetta against me.”

Theo grinned, tossing the towel over his shoulder, and he gave you a playful sidelong look. “When I get knocked on my ass, promise you’ll kiss it better?”

You arched a brow, but the smirk tugging at your lips betrayed your amusement. “Careful. I’m starting to think you’re flirting with me.”

“Starting to?” he shot back, unfazed. “Let me make it clearer. If I don’t get my ass handed to me by Rogers, I’ll buy you a drink Friday.”

You leaned back against the wall, arms folding over your chest. “And if Rogers wins?”

Theo leaned in, voice low and smooth as his fingers brushed a stray strand of hair behind your ear, lingering just a moment too long. “Then I’ll buy you two,” he murmured.

You opened your mouth to respond. Flattered, a little surprised, already mentally debating whether it was worth shaving your legs, when a voice cut through the hallway like a blade.

“Agent. You’re late.”

You didn’t have to look to know who it was. That gravel-edged tone, sharpened with disapproval, could only belong to one man.

Bucky stood at the end of the corridor, arms crossed, jaw set like granite. His black compression shirt clung to every sculpted line of his chest, joggers slung low on his hips in a way that really shouldn't have been legal. He looked like he’d just stepped out of a combat simulation and into a fitness magazine.

But the expression on his face? Full-on battlefield.

That signature scowl was locked in place, thunderclouds brewing behind his eyes as he stared straight past you, straight at Theo. Typical. You hadn’t even done anything, yet somehow, he already looked pissed.

“Training doesn’t start for another twenty minutes.” You reminded him.

He didn’t seem interested in whatever argument you were about to make, and he turned on his heel without another word.

You sighed, uncrossing your arms as you pushed off the wall and flashed Theo an apologetic smile. 

Jogging to catch up, your boots thudding against the hallway floor, you called after Bucky. “You know, there’s this really neat thing called a schedule. Maybe try sticking to it?”

He didn’t even glance over his shoulder. “You could use the extra time.”

You scoffed in disbelief at his audacity. Classic Barnes, gruelling, joyless, always ready with a critique and never a compliment. He’d made it his mission to grind you down, one scathing remark at a time. And yet, you knew you were one of the top agents. The higher-ups had told you as much in your mid-year review, even going so far as to say that your mentorship with Barnes was working brilliantly. You hadn’t bothered correcting them, though it irritated more than you liked to admit. All your hard work, and somehow, he got the credit.

Bucky didn’t stop until you were both inside one of the gym’s private sparring rooms. The door clicked shut behind you. No audience. No distractions. Just him and you and the electric tension that always seemed to spark the moment you were alone together.

“Seriously, Barnes, what’s your problem today?”

Bucky stepped onto the mat, gesturing for you to follow.

“You’re here to train, not flirt in the hallway.”

You barely resisted the urge to roll your eyes. Bucky always had a problem whenever your love life even breathed into the conversation. Said it was irrelevant. Unprofessional. A distraction.

Back when Yelena was your partner, the two of you used to spar and gossip at the same time, her dodging your punches while you gave dramatic play-by-plays of whatever your latest fling had done to you in bed the night before. She lived for it. Bucky? Not so much.

He’d cut the conversation short every time. Couldn’t even stand the sight of you laughing a little too long with someone else. He’d yank you away with some bullshit excuse like, ‘distractions on the field will get you killed’, or ‘do I need to report you for slacking off?’ Like you were breaking protocol instead of just being a human being.

You stepped into position across from him, tightening your stance, heat already prickling beneath your skin. From the glare he was giving you, he looked ready to fight. Good. So were you.

“Are you always such an asshole,” you said, voice flat, “or is that just a special little treat you save for me?”

He gave you a look, deadpan and infuriating. “Only when I’m working with someone who’s constantly late, distracted, or hungover.”

You let out a sharp breath through your nose and threw a lazy jab, just to shut him up. He deflected it with a flick of his wrist like he could’ve done it in his sleep.

“And yet,” you muttered, circling to your right, “you wrote me a glowing mid-year report.”

His hand faltered for a split second. It was brief, but you caught it, a crack in the armour he hid behind.

“So you read it,” he replied, already shifting back into motion.

“Hard not to. Maria practically quoted it word for word at me in the hallway.”

His mouth flattened. “It was accurate.”

You scoffed and came at him again, this time with more force, a blow aimed at his jaw. He blocked with ease, catching your wrist mid-air and twisting just enough to tip your balance. You staggered, caught yourself, then stepped back with a glare.

“‘Most adaptive mentee in the current program,’” you quoted, circling him again.

A jab. He blocked it.

“‘Performs under pressure.’”

You followed up with a low kick aimed at his calf. He side-stepped like you were moving in slow motion.

“‘Good instincts in the field.’”

Another punch, this one he met palm to palm, stopping your momentum cold. You grit your teeth and shoved him off.

“‘Promising.’” You swept your foot in a feint and then struck at his ribs. He pivoted out of reach, breath barely changed. “‘Capable.’”

He lunged this time, arm out, trying to lock your elbow, but you twisted under it, ducking away, the mat skimming under your feet.

“‘Excellent recall.’” 

You squared off again, eyes locked on his.

“Why the hell,” you asked, low and angry, “are you always such an asshole to my face when you’re singing my praises behind my back?”

He didn’t answer right away, moving like a shadow around you, eyes locked on yours. 

“As much as it pains me,” he finally spoke, tone flat, “you are my best mentee. Even if I dislike you personally, I felt your report should reflect that.”

You blinked, momentarily thrown. That was… probably the most praise you’d ever got from him—buried beneath the usual bullshit, sure, but praise nonetheless. On a good day, you might get a grunted ‘good’ if you were lucky. Most of the time, training with Bucky was just an endless list of everything you were doing wrong, punctuated by a jab to the ribs for emphasis.

“Do you always make your compliments sound like insults?”

“It wasn’t a compliment. Just the truth.”

You threw a kick toward his side, fast and impulsive. He caught your ankle and held it, grip firm around your calf for a second too long. His vibranium fingers were cold, even through the fabric of your leggings. You could’ve sworn they tightened around the muscle just a fraction as your eyes swept up to give him a look of disbelief. But instead of pulling away, you leaned into the moment and used the hold for balance. You pivoted hard on your grounded foot, letting the captured leg swing inward. Then you launched yourself forward, hooking your other leg around his waist, aiming to bring him down with you.

For a half-second, it worked. His balance shifted. Your hips were flush against him, legs locked tight around his torso as you twisted your weight, trying to drag him off his feet.

With a grunt, he straightened, twisted, and you suddenly found yourself airborne.

You hit the mat hard, slamming against it with a thud that knocked the breath out of you. The ceiling lights above blurred for a second as the impact rattled through your spine. His shadow hovered for a beat, chest rising with exertion, jaw clenched.

He didn’t smirk. Didn’t gloat. Just stared down at you, maybe it was the oncoming concussion you probably just suffered, but you could’ve sworn there was a flash of concern in his eyes.

“Next time, I won’t let it slide if you don’t turn up because you’re hungover.” He wiped a forearm across his brow.

“How do you know my heart wasn’t broken?” You asked, shaking off the blow as you rose to your feet once more, feet finding their usual stance.

He arched a brow, unimpressed.

“Don’t you have sympathy for me?” you asked, somewhere between a joke and a challenge.

“I wouldn’t call it sympathy,” he said coolly. “More like pity.”

That stung more than you cared to admit. You rolled your shoulders, stepping in again. Your guard was up, but there was a crack in it now, frustration flaring under your skin.

“I can’t imagine you were actually that sad about it.” Bucky bit out, not even bothering to hide his annoyance now. “Don’t you have a new fling every other week? Sure sounded like you were lining up another one in the hallway.”

“Oh wow,” you drawled, voice harsh. “Slut shaming? This isn’t the 1940s, Barnes.”

“It’s not my fault who you choose to date.”

You exhaled, long and low. The tension between you had teeth now, gnawing at the air. “Y’know, for someone who hates me, you sure pay a lot of attention.”

He didn’t respond. Just stood there, fists flexing at his sides, poker-faced.

You waited, ready to shoulder any insult he laid on you. You could see irritation simmering under his skin, jaw ticking, knuckles white.

“I think you should take a lap or two around the room.” He huffed finally. “Your blocks are late, your punches are soft, and your stance is a joke. Try warming up before you embarrass both of us.”

You grinned back at him, though it was closer to baring your teeth than a show of amusement. “But I’m still your best mentee, huh?”

“Let’s make it five laps then.”

You gave him a lazy salute and turned for the edge of the mat.

“Whatever you say, Sergeant.”

As you jogged the first lap, footsteps echoing lightly in the private room, you could feel his eyes on you, tracking every movement and watching you like a hawk, like a fuse lit, waiting.

And damn it, you ran a little faster because of it.

—

If you’d known how this mission was going to turn out, you would’ve called in sick. Faked a family emergency. Broken your own damn leg. Anything to avoid being stuck alone with Bucky Barnes in a freezing H.Y.D.R.A. bunker from hell. You’d even considered whispering a desperate prayer to whatever all-seeing god might be listening—or hell, maybe begging Stephen Strange to yank you into an alternate universe where this wasn’t your reality.

Gunfire rattled somewhere outside the cement walls, and you imagined your fellow agents in the middle of all the fun, chucking grenades, dodging bullets, living the dream. Meanwhile, you were practically glued at the hip with Sergeant Sunshine, babysitting an ancient Soviet-era computer that looked like it still ran on dial-up.

You were perched on the edge of a desk, legs swinging, having shoved aside a mountain of dusty files scribbled in Russian. All completely useless to you.

“What is it with H.Y.D.R.A. and brutalist architecture?” you muttered, eyeing the thick ceiling. “Why does concrete get them so hard?”

“I can’t concentrate with all your whining.”

You raised an eyebrow. “That’s literally the first thing I’ve said in ten minutes, Barnes.”

He didn’t respond. Didn’t even throw you one of his signature grunts. Just kept clicking away like the keyboard had wronged him personally, eyes narrowed at the screen as if trying to decode the goddamn Rosetta Stone.

You groaned and rolled your head back, staring up at the ceiling.

More concrete.

You weren’t usually this unbearable on missions, but this? This whole situation felt like a personal attack. You’d been mid-flirt with Theo on the quinjet (who had been very committed to making bedroom eyes at you) when they’d called out team assignments. The second you heard your name paired with Barnes, tasked with data extraction while everyone else got to blow things up, you’d spun around to glare at him.

He’d been sitting there in his usual cold, statue-like stillness beside Steve, as if this wasn’t a death sentence. You’d stormed over, demanded if he knew anything. He just shrugged and muttered something about ‘higher-ups’.

The walls shook suddenly—another explosion—and dust drifted from the ceiling. You blinked it out of your lashes and slid lazily off the desk, sauntering over to where Bucky hunched at the terminal.

“Can you hurry it up? At this rate, they’re going to bury us alive in here.”

“Give me a second,” he muttered through gritted teeth.

You leaned in slightly, eyeing the screen. A wall of Cyrillic met you, completely unreadable. You couldn’t help the exasperated sigh that left your lips.

“Remind me again why we’re the ones doing this? Wouldn’t it have made more sense to send someone who actually speaks Russian to help you? Or, I don’t know, someone who has the patience to teach you how to use a flash drive?”

He didn’t answer, just kept typing and clicking, as if the keys owed him money.

You crossed your arms, scowling. The only thing more miserable than being stuck in a concrete crypt was being stuck in one with him. When he was distracted, like now, he forgot to wear that usual look of thinly veiled disappointment. His brow furrowed in focus, lips twitching as he muttered to himself in low, clipped Russian. He looked—God help you—human. Not like the cold-hearted pain-in-your-ass who’d spent the last six months tearing you down. But like someone thoughtful. Careful. Quietly brilliant.

And stupidly, stupidly attractive.

You hated how your eyes lingered on the way his rolled-up sleeves hugged his forearms. The way the shadows danced over his cheekbones and the little groove between his brows. The way that little furrow deepened when something didn’t go his way, like he was trying to wrestle the entire world into submission with sheer concentration alone.

It would’ve been easier if he were just awful. Easier if you didn’t catch glimpses of something else beneath the gruffness. Something that made your chest tighten a little when you weren’t focusing. 

You swallowed hard, forcing your eyes to the screen. What was wrong with you?

The download bar finally appeared on the screen, crawling forward at a snail’s pace. You exhaled loudly, half in relief, half in impatience. 

“About time,” you muttered.

He shot you a look, cold and flat. “You wanna do it?”

You turned your back on him, pacing the room. Your nerves were coiled tight, the distant sounds of gunfire and explosions growing louder. The base was a pressure cooker and the damn download bar still hovered at 34%.

While you were busy taking your own turn brooding, the heavy metal door at the far end of the room slammed open with a deafening clang, nearly launching you out of your skin. Three armed H.Y.D.R.A. agents stormed in, rifles raised, eyes locked on target.

So much for the diversion. Clearly, it hadn’t been enough—or worse, H.Y.D.R.A. had seen through it. They must’ve realised it wasn’t a full-blown William-the-Conqueror-style invasion, just a cleverly dressed-up distraction.

“Company,” Bucky muttered, pulling his sidearm in one smooth motion.

You were already moving, instincts kicking in before your brain could catch up. You dove low, sliding across the slick concrete floor as a hail of bullets tore through the room. You grabbed the nearest overturned chair, dragging it into place just in time as metal pinged and sparked against it.

Bucky didn’t hesitate. A single, precise shot rang out, dropping the first H.Y.D.R.A. agent without a flinch. You didn’t stop to think. You surged forward, catching the second agent by surprise, your knee slamming into his gut with enough force to knock the air from his lungs. He doubled over, right into the crack of your gun butt across his temple. He crumpled, unconscious, before he hit the floor.

Then you saw the third.

Rifle up.

Aimed right at you.

“Get down!”

The shout was raw, sharp enough to slice through the chaos. You barely had time to turn your head before a body crashed into yours. His arm slammed into your torso, hurling you sideways just as the trigger was pulled.

The shot cracked like thunder.

Your back hit the ground hard, skidding across the floor. Pain flared along your shoulder, but it was nothing compared to the sound that followed, the harsh, guttural grunt that tore out of Bucky’s throat.

You twisted around.

He was down, gasping, clutching at his side and blood already soaking through the black fabric of his suit.

You scrambled back to him just as the final agent aimed again. Snarling, you fired three quick shots into the bastard’s chest before he collapsed in a heap.

The air went still for only a moment, then the ground trembled violently before you had a chance to assess the damage done to Bucky. Chunks of the ceiling cracked and began to rain down. Concrete groaned like a beast waking from a long sleep.

You turned to the computer, some unreadable symbols flashing across the screen, but you were quick enough to decipher that it meant the download was complete. Snatching the flash drive, you spun back to Bucky, who was trying to sit up, blood spilling between his fingers as he pressed them hard against the wound in his side.

“Get up,” you barked, crouching beside him. “We need to move, Barnes!”

—

The two of you had spent nearly two damn hours stumbling through the snow-blanketed mountainside, following the rough coordinates burned into your mind from the mission briefing. By the time the cabin finally came into view—half-buried in the snow, smoke long gone from the chimney—you were soaked to the bone and one more smart comment away from throttling him.

The escape had been messy, the H.Y.D.R.A base nearly becoming your tomb. You’d been forced to bolt through a collapsing back corridor, dragging the injured super soldier along with the last of your adrenaline. Between the debris, the gunfire, and the growing dark stain across his side, you weren’t sure how either of you had made it out. Worse still, you’d missed the quinjet extraction window by twenty minutes. The skies had turned black with storm clouds, wind howling across the range as ice and snow stung your cheeks. The base had finally picked up your call for aid on the mission-assigned satellite phone, but due to zero visibility and increased H.Y.D.R.A activity in the area, the replacement quinjet wouldn’t arrive until first light.

Which meant you were stuck together. In the cold. For the whole night.

The safehouse, at least, was still intact. A small timber cabin tucked between trees, barely standing but just enough. It had a lounge no bigger than a broom closet, a wood-burning stove long dead and cold, a bathroom you prayed had running water, and a single bedroom with a mattress that looked like it had seen better decades.

Your breath misted in the air as you slammed the door behind you, the wind nearly ripping the handle from your grip. Bucky collapsed onto the torn couch by the stove without a word, letting out a low groan that he probably thought you didn’t hear.

You should’ve made starting the fire your first priority. But one look at the blood soaking through Bucky’s side made that choice for you.

Now, kneeling between his legs with the remnants of the first-aid kit splayed out on the coffee table, whoever had been here last hadn’t restocked it properly. You glared up at Bucky as he shifted under your touch again. “Stop squirming.”

“I’m not.”

“You are,” you hissed, dabbing antiseptic across the wound with a gauze pad. “You keep flinching.”

“Because you’re digging in like you’re trying to punish me.”

“Oh, I haven’t even started,” you muttered.

He scoffed, muscles twitching beneath your hands as you pressed down. “Are you always this demanding?”

“Are you always this whiny?”

His glare was instant, eyes narrowed. “Is it your goal to piss everyone off?”

“I’m a fucking delight, and you know that.”

He gave you a deadpan look. “I think you’re mistaken. I definitely don’t like you.”

You lifted your brows, trying to keep your voice light despite the roiling mix of emotions spilling out. “You say that like you didn’t just take a bullet for me.”

You hadn’t even had the time to process it when it happened. The crash of his body slamming into yours, the sound of the gunshot, and the sickening thud of him hitting the ground. But now, with him sitting across from you, shirt dark with blood and a fresh gash still weeping crimson, the weight of it began to settle in.

He took a bullet for you.

You didn’t know what to do with that.

Part of you expected him to twist it somehow, to throw it back in your face as some kind of lesson that you were careless. That you’d left an opening. That he had to clean up your mess. You were already bracing for it, the sting of snide remarks spread over weeks like salt in a wound, little digs during training about how you ‘owe him one’ or how ‘distractions get people killed’.

And yet... he hadn’t said any of that.

Instead, he just shrugged, wincing slightly. “I heal faster because of the serum,” he muttered, voice gruff but quieter than usual. “I’ll be back on the field faster than you ever could.”

You stared at him.

At the stubborn line of his jaw, the tight press of his lips as he tried not to show how much pain he was in. The way his hand gripped his side was too tight. The blood beneath his fingernails.

Why had he done that?

You weren’t always the easiest to get along with. You’d spent months pushing each other’s buttons, arguing, fighting, constantly locked in a cold war of insults and bruises. So why? Why would he throw himself into a bullet’s path for you?

It was hard not to feel... something. Flattered, maybe. A little shocked. And, against your better judgment, grateful. You didn’t want to be grateful—not to him, of all people—but your stomach wrenched every time you replayed the moment in your head.

You didn’t ask him to do it. And yet, he did.

And now he was pretending it didn’t matter. Like he hadn’t made a split-second decision to put your life before his own. What if that bullet had hit a little higher? His heart? His throat? His skull?

“Sure,” you drawled, trying to cover for your sudden silence. “Great excuse.”

“It’s the truth.” He muttered. 

He didn’t look at you. Just kept his eyes on the floor and said nothing.

Which, somehow, said everything.

You stared at him for a moment longer, shaking your head as you tossed the bloodied gauze into the small bin beside the couch. The cold was starting to settle into your bones, your fingers stiff with it.

“Whatever. I’m going to try to find some firewood before we freeze to death.”

He glanced toward the boarded-up window, ice clinging to the edges. “You sure there’s any left out there?”

“Nope.” You pulled on your jacket. “But I’d rather get eaten by a bear than stay in here with you.”

You were halfway to the door before you paused, glancing over your shoulder.

“Can you get to that bed yourself, or do you need me to do that for you, too, super soldier?”

His answer came quickly, teeth clenched. “I’m fine.”

“Sure you are.”

You couldn’t deny the nausea in your stomach. Not from worry. Definitely not that. Just frustration. That’s all it was.

The wind nearly ripped the door from your hands as you stepped outside. Snow came in sideways, biting at your skin the second you crossed the threshold. You tugged your jacket tighter and trudged into the blizzard, squinting against the blur of white.

The woodshed was exactly where the briefing had said it’d be, about ten feet from the side of the cabin, half-hidden by trees. Or at least, had been. What you found instead was a crooked mess of collapsed timber and broken beams. Snow had settled deep into the heap, and every piece of wood you managed to drag free was soaked, the logs heavy with ice and rot.

You swore, breath clouding in the air.

You searched anyway, fingers numb, arms shaking. You tried the back of the cabin. Nothing. Even the branches scattered beneath the trees were too damp. No kindling, no dry bark, not even a damn pinecone. The cold was sinking deeper now, crawling down your spine and settling like an anchor in your chest. You didn’t want to push further into the wilderness, not in this weather and not with H.Y.D.R.A. agents crawling all over the mountainside. 

By the time you stumbled back inside and forced the door closed again, you could hardly feel your fingers or toes. Every limb ached like they were five seconds away from turning purple and black from frostbite. The cabin felt just as cold as the outside, but it was a momentary relief to be out of the wind that cut through your thick layers.

Bucky was on the bed, half-sitting up against the wall, the blanket pulled low across his hips. His eyes flicked up as you entered, taking in your dripping hair and shaking hands.

"Let me guess," he muttered. "No luck?"

You didn’t answer right away, just peeled your jacket off and dropped it near the door with a wet splat. “Everything’s soaked. The shed’s collapsed.”

He exhaled through his nose, chest deflating with the effort. “You’re freezing.”

You ignored him, stomping the snow off your boots. “I’ll live.”

“Not if you keep acting like a damn idiot.”

You turned to glare at him. “I’m sorry, which one of us got shot again?”

You crouched down, your knees protesting as you bent to untie your boots, but your fingers were too stiff, trembling from the cold. The laces had frozen slightly, the knots tight and uncooperative. You hissed through your teeth, fumbling and cursing under your breath as you tugged uselessly at them.

Bucky watched from the bed, arms crossed over his broad chest. He didn’t move to help, but you could feel his eyes on you. He tilted his head slightly and gave you a look that was half-concerned, half-exasperated, like you did this to yourself.

With a final frustrated yank, you freed your boot and kicked it off, followed quickly by the other. A damp string of muttered profanities trailed from your lips as you scrambled back to your feet, wet clothes clinging uncomfortably to your skin. 

“Which one of us,” Bucky spoke pointedly, breath fogging in the air between you, “went outside to play in a blizzard and came back looking like a drowned rat?”

You were shivering now, teeth on the verge of chattering, but you still squared your shoulders and stared him down, as defiant as ever. A bead of melted snow trailed down your temple. He stared right back.

“Get over here,” he said finally.

“Excuse me?”

“You need to warm up.” His tone was flat, too practical. “And the bed’s the only warm place in this shithole.”

“Oh, now you care about my well-being?”

He didn’t dignify that with a response. Just lifted the edge of the blanket.

You hesitated, eyeing the small mattress like it might bite you. "You’re the worst."

"And you’re still standing in wet clothes. Take them off and get in."

Your mouth dropped open. “Excuse me?”

“Not all of them,” he said, eyes rolling. “Just the top layer before you die of hypothermia. Stop being dramatic.”

With a theatrical sigh for good measure, you peeled off your wet sweater, leaving the thermal shirt beneath and then your pants. You did not check to see if he was watching you shivering in your underwear, cheeks flushed. You padded toward the bed like it was a walk to your own execution, hesitating again at the edge.

You tried—really tried—not to let your eyes linger on the broad plane of his chest, but it was impossible not to. His shirt was rumpled and half-untucked, the hem tugged up where he’d peeled it back to expose the bandage on his side. The white gauze was already marred with deep red, blooming in uneven patches that made you pause with something halfway between guilt and concern. Your gaze drifted to the sharp curve of his waist, the ridge of muscle visible beneath the bloodied wrappings. 

It was distracting. 

He was distracting.

But what you tried hardest not to think about was the bed. Specifically, how absurdly small the mattress looked with him sitting on it, shoulders nearly brushing both edges. There was no way you’d both fit. You’d be pressed against him. Shoulder to shoulder, chest to back, knee to thigh. 

You swallowed hard and told yourself not to think about it.

But you were already thinking about it.

“Don’t make it weird,” Bucky muttered.

“I’m not making it weird.”

He let out a low, tired huff, the kind that told you he was in pain but too stubborn to say it. You rolled your eyes in reply, more at yourself than him, and climbed in carefully, slipping beneath the blanket with a reluctant shiver. The bed was warmer than expected. Or rather, he was. Bucky radiated heat like a furnace, the kind that seeped into your skin and made your limbs relax before your mind could catch up. You hovered near the edge of the mattress, body stiff, spine straight like it might help you keep your distance. But it was a hopeless attempt. The bed was tiny—criminally small, really—and with him taking up so much space, there was nowhere to go but closer. One wrong move and you’d be on the floor.

“God, you’re warm,” you muttered into the pillow, trying not to sound too affected.

“Serum,” he replied shortly, his voice rough with exhaustion.

Slowly, inch by inch, you gave in. The chill in the air made it too easy to justify. You shifted toward him, the blanket tugging between you as your arm brushed against his. Then your hip. Then your thigh. Until, somehow, your bodies were nearly flush. 

He didn’t move. Didn’t pull away. Didn’t say a word.

And that somehow made it worse.

The silence settled between you, heavy and warm and intimate, like the air itself had thickened. You could hear his breathing, steady, but a little too deliberate. You could see his chest rise and fall from the corner of your eye. And worse, you could feel him. Every inch of him. The solid line of muscle at your side. The way your knees had somehow locked together under the blanket. How your forearm grazed his with every breath you took.

You needed a distraction. Desperately.

Reaching over to the nightstand, you snatched up the battered satellite phone, almost too quickly. The cold metal was jarring against your palm. For a moment, you considered activating the self-destruct protocol and blowing both of you up to end your shared misery. You flicked it on, the screen’s pale light casting long shadows across the room and across him.

Your eyes flicked over before you could stop them.

He was already staring at the ceiling, the faint furrow between his brows still present even in rest. His profile was defined in the low light, long lashes, strong nose, and the stubble on his jaw catching just a hint of light.

You forced yourself to look back at the tiny screen to check for any new updates.

Nothing. You were well and truly in for the night.

You scrolled to the mission briefing instead, flicking through the files to pass time, anything to distract you.

And then you saw it.

There, buried under the pre-mission notes, weather expectations, and extraction protocol, was a small addendum in the personnel request section.

Operation HARVEST: Agent Barnes, James B.Requested field partner: Agent 00149. Request approved.

You stared at it, the room suddenly quieter than it had been all night. 

That was your agent number.

He asked for you.

The same man who had spent the last six months grunting his way through every interaction, who seemed perpetually annoyed by your existence, who had made a point never to give you more than an ounce of credit, had explicitly asked to be paired with you.

You felt your throat tighten.

“You okay?” Bucky asked, as if he could sense your world shattering around you. His voice was low, eyes half-lidded with exhaustion 

You didn’t answer right away. You sat there, still curled under the heavy covers. The warmth of his body was helping, yes—but your blood was starting to simmer for a very different reason.

You turned slowly, holding the satellite phone up between your fingers.

“You want to tell me why it says on the briefing notes that you requested me as your partner for this mission?”

Bucky blinked once. His mouth parted slightly, but no sound came out.

“I asked you on the quinjet if you knew anything,” you went on, voice harsh now. “You told me it was a higher-up’s decision. You lied to my face.”

Bucky sighed through his nose, already bracing himself as he sat up straighter against the headboard. “I didn’t think it mattered.”

“Didn’t matter?” you scoffed, pushing yourself to your knees to face him, ignoring the goosebumps that rose as the blankets fell from your shoulders. “You picked me. You had me assigned to a mission with you, just the two of us, didn’t tell me, and then lied about it.”

“I didn’t lie—”

“You did lie.”

He dragged a hand down his face, slow and weary, but there was tension in the movement, an edge of frustration barely restrained. “I didn’t want you partnered with the other guys, alright?”

You faltered, unsure if you heard him right. “Excuse me?”

“It doesn’t matter—”

“No, you can’t just say that and not explain—”

“Fine!” He groaned, exasperated. His eyes dropped away from yours, fixing instead on a knot in the cabin’s dark wood wall. “I heard them talking. Theo and a few of the other agents.”

“What?” you asked, voice tight. “What were they saying about me?”

He didn’t answer. The silence stretched, heavy and awful.

“Just say it,” you bit out.

He looked at you then. Really looked at you. And it hit you square in the chest, something dark and protective burning behind his eyes. But it was reluctant, too, as if he hated that he was about to say it out loud.

His voice was low and rough when it came. “That you’re easy. That it’d be simple to get you into bed because you’re always asking for it. That you’re a slut. I gave them a piece of my mind and reported them, but I still don’t want you around them.”

You felt it like a punch to the gut.

Your breath caught, the sting behind your eyes immediate and hot. You blinked once. Twice. The words echoed, raw and ugly, and for a second, all you could do was try not to let them settle too deep. Not to let them stick.

You weren’t naïve. You knew you didn’t sleep around any more than anyone else your age. You knew that if the situation were flipped, if you were a man, no one would bat an eye. And still, the weight of it settled heavy in your gut, all twisted up with something darker. Dread. Shame. Fury. And under it all… that sick, crawling feeling that maybe Bucky had said something. Given them reason to think they could say it. That maybe he thought the same thing deep down.

That, maybe, to him, you were just some mess he had to clean up.

The words came fast, your voice shaking. “And what, you thought you’d ride in and defend me like some white knight? You know I could easily drop Theo, I could easily drop any of those assholes!” Bucky blinked, caught off guard, but you were already going, bitter heat rising in your throat like bile.

“You thought that would make it better?” you snapped. “You think that helps? They’re probably all laughing behind my back about how I can’t defend myself—”

“I wasn’t going to stand there and let them talk about you like that!”

“Why?” you demanded. “Because you didn’t want to hear it? Or because you’ve thought the same fucking thing?”

His eyes flared with disbelief, maybe even insult.

“I would never think of you that way,” he barked, and his voice cracked like thunder. “Let alone say it out loud. Because I’m not an asshole. Not like those guys you date.”

You laughed, blunt and hollow. “Why do you care who I date?”

He opened his mouth. Closed it. For a moment, you thought he wouldn’t come up with any words, but to your surprise, he exploded before you. “Maybe because you deserve better!” he shouted, the words ripping out of him before he could take them back.

The silence after that was suffocating.

You stared at him, heart hammering in your chest, a strange cocktail of feelings in your stomach that you didn’t care to identify. He sat there, breathing hard, his hands clenched at his sides like he didn’t trust himself to speak again.

“Jesus,” you muttered. You weren’t foolish enough to believe him, to fall victim to whatever joke he was trying to play. “Give me a break.”

“I’m serious,” he mumbled this time. 

You turned your face away. “Oh yeah? Like you could do any better? Don’t be ridiculous.”

His breath hitched, like you’d slapped him. You could feel him shift beside you under the covers.

“You really think that?” Bucky asked in disbelief.

You didn’t answer. Couldn’t. But Bucky didn’t let it stay quiet.

“You want to know the truth?” he asked, voice low and rough, as if the words had been caged for too long in his throat. “Fine.”

You turned back toward him, uncertain what expression you were even wearing anymore.

“I’ve liked you since the first damn time I saw you,” he said. “Group training. You were paired with some agent twice your size, and you still knocked him on his ass.”

Your heart slammed against your ribs.

“I thought you were… brilliant. And sharp. And confident. And yeah, beautiful too. You had this way of looking right through people—through me—and it scared the shit out of me. When they assigned me to mentor you, I panicked,” he said, with a dry, bitter laugh. “I thought if I pretended, if I was distant, if I acted cold, I could make it go away. Trick myself out of it.”

“But it just got worse,” he went on. “Every time I saw you smiling at some sleaze who didn’t deserve to breathe the same air as you, every time I had to watch you flirt with some smug asshole agents, I wanted to break something. Because it should’ve been me.”

You shook your head slowly, stunned. “Bucky…”

“I hated watching you get your heart broken over and over again,” he said. “Hated seeing you walk into training after pretending like nothing happened. You didn’t deserve that. Not when I knew I could treat you better if I just had the fucking guts to say something.”

Your ribs felt suddenly too small for your body, bones pressing into your lungs.

“And now we’re stuck on a mountainside,” he said, his voice softer, hoarser, “and I’m here bleeding in a bed with you, still lying to you, still trying to act like it doesn’t kill me every time you look at me like I’m just your mentor who you hate.”

You gaped in stunned silence, heartbeat pounding in your ears. Bucky watched you expectantly.

No. No, that couldn’t be what he meant. Not really.

“I don’t know what kind of cruel joke you’re playing on me,” you finally said, voice shaking, fingers knotted in the sheets. “I don’t get it. You’ve spent this whole time being…”

“I’m being serious,” he said, eyes locked on you. “I don’t expect you to believe me. I’ve fucked this up too many times. But I swear on my life, I’m not playing a game.”

You stared at him, blinking hard. “So what, this entire time you’ve been an asshole because you were what, pretending? Pretending that you didn’t like me, pretending that you weren’t jealous, when you could’ve just talked to me?”

His silence was immediate. Heavy. It told you everything you needed to know.

Your chest rose and fell too fast. Your mind was spinning, flipping through every memory like a film reel: his cold shoulder, his clipped instructions, the scowls when you joked with someone else, the way he always hovered a few steps too close in combat zones. The way he always caught you when you fell. There had been moments. Tiny fractures in his mask. The way his gaze lingered when he thought you weren’t paying attention. The time he bandaged your hand without a word, but so gently it had made your throat tighten. The night you caught him staring at you across the gym like he was in pain.

How had you missed it?

“I need to…” You whispered, slumping back under the sheets, pulling the blanket higher around yourself as if it might guard you from the ache in your ribs. “We should sleep. It’s late. Evac’s coming once the sun is up.”

He didn’t protest. He just nodded once, jaw tight.

Neither of you said another word.

Sleep didn’t come easily.

—

You hadn’t seen much of Bucky since you were both airlifted off the mountain.

He’d been recovering from his wound, officially. But it didn’t take a genius to figure out he was avoiding you. No texts. No nods in the hallway. No eye contact across the cafeteria. Just cold silence.

Coward.

You’d spent the past week half-waiting for him to come to his senses. The other half had been consumed wondering what the hell you’d do if he did. Because yes, you found him infuriating. Yes, he was emotionally constipated and moody and had the charm of a brick wall. But he was also gorgeous in that tortured-soul, sharp-jawed, arms-too-big-for-his-shirts kind of way. He cared about you, in his own twisted Bucky way. He’d taken a bullet for you. Defended you. Chose you.

And now he was just… gone.

You were leaning against the wall at the edge of the main gym, arms crossed, purposefully not looking at Theo and the other assholes you had suspected Bucky had been right about, when you heard footsteps and someone cleared their throat beside you.

Yelena stood beside you, her smirk suspiciously wider than usual.

You turned, brows knitting in apprehension. “Hey.”

“Congratulations,” 

“For what?” You replied hesitantly, watching as her brows lifted in delighted surprise. 

“You haven’t heard?” Her voice was alarmingly gleeful, like she was especially thrilled to be the bearer of whatever news she was about to lay upon you. “Barnes finally accepted your mentor transfer request.”

Your heart flatlined for a second. 

“What?”

Yelena, oblivious to your distress, continued to dig further. “I don’t know what you did to him up on that mountain, but… damn. I didn’t think he’d actually do it.”

“I didn’t ask for a mentor transfer,” you muttered, dread settling in your chest.

Yelena’s expression faltered. “Oh. Well, you have one now. You’re with Thor. They tried to pawn you off onto me, but you know, got my hands busy with the new group coming in—”

“Thor?!” You snapped, interrupting her spiel, “He’s a drunk! And he’s not even here half the time, too busy in Asgard—”

Yelena gave you a helpless shrug, and that’s when the doors to the gym opened and in walked the ghost of your week-long frustration.

Bucky was in full training gear, black sweatpants slung low on his hips, compression shirt clinging to him like a second skin. His hair was ruffled, pushed back half-heartedly like he couldn’t be bothered to fix it, a few strands falling into his eyes. The corded muscles of his arms were on full display, the glint of his vibranium arm catching the light with every step. He looked unfairly good, carved from grief and sleepless nights. But it was the way he wouldn’t look at you that struck harder than anything else. His jaw was tight, lips set in a permanent pout, that brooding scowl etched so deep it felt deliberate. He looked everywhere but at you, like you weren’t even there. 

Your blood boiled.

Without a word, you peeled yourself from the wall and marched toward him. He spotted you mid-stride, his posture tensing like he was preparing for impact.

“Hey—” he started.

“What the hell is wrong with you?” you snapped, voice low and venom-laced.

“Not here,” he muttered, eyes flicking toward the other agents filtering in behind you. A few of them had already glanced over curiously, settling in for whatever show was about to unfold.

“Too late,” you hissed. “You requested a mentor transfer for me without even telling me?”

“I thought it was what you wanted.” You both knew he was lying, and he refused to meet your eye. This wasn’t about what you wanted. It was about him feeling embarrassed after his outburst on the mountain. 

“Oh, really?” You stepped closer. “Because I don’t remember asking you to make my career decisions for me.”

“I was doing you a favour.”

“Yeah? Maybe try talking to me like a normal fucking person, and then I’ll tell you what I want.”

His eyes flickered up, stormy blues locking onto your face. “And what is it you want?”

You stared him down, tilting your head slightly, weighing the war going on inside you.

You.

I want you.

The thought was immediate, impulsive, and so painfully real it made your chest ache. But you shoved it down, crushed it before it could breathe. No. That was stupid. Why the hell would you want him—this man-child who’d ghosted you for a week, who’d spent the last six months acting like every word out of your mouth was a personal offence, who seemed to find joy in making you feel like nothing?

But then again… maybe you both had been trying so hard to deny the truth, burying something under six months of thinly veiled insults and sparring matches that got too rough. Maybe he was pushing you away because he didn’t trust himself to keep it professional. And maybe you were just as bad, biting back, rising to the bait, pretending you didn’t notice the way his eyes lingered or the way his voice softened when you were actually hurt.

You had to know if it was real.

The shuffle of movement and muffled chatter around you signalled the start of group training, slicing through your heated stand-off. Agents around you began to pair off, leaving you and Bucky still locked in place, face to face, breath mingling.

You lifted your chin. “Be my sparring partner?” you asked, voice loud enough for the others to hear, but eyes fixed solely on him.

He didn’t argue. Didn’t flinch. Just nodded once, tight-lipped, like he’d been waiting for the invitation all along.

You squared off on the mat, bouncing on your toes, adrenaline already coiling in your veins. Bucky moved like a soldier, controlled, fluid, annoyingly graceful.

“You don’t have to prove anything,” he muttered as you circled.

“I’m not,” you said, “Just testing a theory.”

He raised a brow. “What theory?”

You lunged, caught his arm, and twisted into a low grapple—just enough to draw him in.

His chest brushed yours. His breath hitched.

Then you kissed him.

Hard.

Your lips crashed against his mid-motion, stealing the next move right off his tongue. You felt him freeze, just for a heartbeat, before his hands twitched at your waist like he didn’t know whether to shove you away or pull you in. You felt the tension roll off him in waves. The way his body reacted was instinct. Shock. Hunger. 

His movements hesitated, and to your delight, despite the entire gym watching, he began to kiss you back. 

And that hesitation?

It was all you needed.

You shifted fast, breaking the kiss, then ducking low, hooking your leg behind his knee as you spun. In one fluid motion, you swept his legs out from under him and used the twist of your momentum to pull him down with you. He stumbled, off-balance, and you moved like lightning, hips snapping around his waist, thighs locking tight. You rotated with the drop, forcing him onto his back as you rolled with the momentum.

He hit the mat hard.

You were straddling him, thighs clamped around his ribs, palms flat on his chest. You smirked down at him, panting. 

Bucky stared up at you, winded, stunned, and very, very pinned. “That was dirty.”

You leaned down, your face just inches from his again. “So was your little mentor stunt. Call it even.”

Throughout the room, the entire gym was dead silent, staring. You gracefully dismounted him and marched off the mat, but Bucky scrambled up and followed you.

“Oh, now you want to talk?” you snapped as he caught up beside you.

“You can’t just kiss me and then walk away like that!”

“Why not?”

“You kissed me to mess with me.”

“I kissed you to see if you meant what you said on the mountain.”

The two of you burst through the gym doors and into the hallway. You didn’t look back. You didn’t have to. Bucky’s heavy footsteps were right behind you, his presence unmistakable, all coiled frustration and breathless anger.

A few agents stood frozen near the water station, others lingering by the mission board, all of them caught mid-conversation as they turned to witness the fallout. You were aware of the eyes on you, the awkward silence that followed, but you didn’t care. Let them stare. Let them gossip.

You stormed past them without pause as Bucky chased you like a dog on a leash that was just about to snap.

“You just kissed me in the middle of sparring,” he shouted after you, voice ragged and accusing. “In front of everyone. Is this a joke to you?” 

You didn’t stop. Didn’t slow. The elevator was too slow, too exposed. Instead, you veered to the stairwell and shoved the door open with enough force that it bounced off the wall. The clanging echo followed you as you started up, two steps at a time.

“Oh my god, would you just shut up already?” you snapped over your shoulder, breath catching as your hand slid along the metal railing, spiralling up the concrete stairwell. 

Behind you, Bucky cursed under his breath. “It was unfair.”

He reached for you and just missed your wrist. You yanked it away before he could try again, your skin buzzing with the ghost of contact.

“Isn’t that what you taught me to do? Use anything to my advantage?” you bit out, pushing through the next door as you reached your floor. The hall here was quieter and dimmer. You passed rows of familiar doors. Your apartment was at the end of the corridor, and every step toward it made your pulse throb louder in your ears. “What, you have a problem with me using my assets against you?

“Assets, huh? You know, you really are unbelievable—”

You let out an exasperated groan, cutting him back. “You kissed me back.”

That stopped him.

His boots scraped the floor as he slowed a few paces behind you, chest heaving, eyes wide with shock.

“What?” he asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

You turned your key in the door. The metal clicked, and you pushed it open with a little more care this time.

“You kissed me back,” you repeated softly, almost to yourself this time and stepped inside. 

Bucky barged in after you.

“You don’t understand—I’m… I’m trying to protect you!” His voice followed you into the room, desperate. 

You kicked off your shoes without looking at him. “I don’t need protecting.”

“Would you just listen for once—” he snapped, shutting the door behind him. 

You rolled your eyes and started pulling off your shirt, tossing it onto your bed and turned to face him, arms crossed. “I am listening, you’re the one not listening to me.”

Bucky stood just inside the door, like he hadn’t decided whether to walk out or burn the whole damn building down. 

“I shouldn’t have told you that on the mountain, it was unprofessional of me.” His voice cracked as his words poured out faster than it seemed he could stop them, emotion thick in every syllable. “I requested the mentor switch because I don’t trust myself to keep pretending. I can’t control myself around you!”

You padded barefoot across the room to the small bathroom.

“How am I supposed to go on training you?” He muttered, gesturing vaguely in your direction. He was repeating himself now, rambling like a crazed man completely oblivious to your actions. “You pull that stunt in the middle of training, humiliate both of us in front of the others, and then act like it meant nothing? Jesus, I can’t even think straight when you—”

You peeled your leggings off and let it fall to the floor behind you.

“—and don’t even get me started on that assets comment! What the hell does that even mean? You can’t just go around weaponising your—”

You unclasped your bra and bent to turn on the shower. The hiss of water filled the room, steam already curling up the mirror.

“—I mean, are you even hearing yourself? You just, what? Decided to tackle and kiss me like it was some kind of training tactic?! That’s not even…Are you using my confession against me? God, you’re impossible, I swear—”

He looked up.

And stopped.

Mid-sentence. Mid-breath.

There you were, back turned, steam catching on the bare curve of your spine and trailing over the lines of your thighs, standing in nothing but your underwear.

His words died in his throat like a car slamming into a wall.

Mouth slightly open. Eyes locked. 

You glanced at him over your shoulder, saw the exact moment it hit him and raised a brow, feigning casual curiosity as you stepped toward the open shower door, letting the foggy heat billow around your legs.

“You joining me?” you asked sweetly. “Sure sounds like you need to cool off.”

He said nothing.

Just stared.

Like you’d just knocked the wind out of him for the second time that day. Just that haunted, hungry look in his eyes like he was trying to figure out if he’d died and gone to hell. Or heaven.

His mouth opened, like he had something to say, some half-assed rebuttal, some snarky comeback.

But no words came out.

Only a low, helpless breath.

“I wasn’t using it against you.” You clarified as you dragged your underwear down your legs, tossing them somewhere across the room. “I was seeing if you meant what you said.”

You stepped nto the shower, leaving him stood stunned in the bathroom doorway. A soft sigh slipped from your lips as warm water poured down your shoulders and back, washing away the dull ache in your muscles. For a moment, you simply stood there, facing the stream, eyes closed, the patter of droplets against your scalp soothing like white noise in a storm.

Then came the soft rattle of the shower door behind you. You didn’t need to open your eyes to know it was him.

The subtle swish of movement was followed by the cool press of metal against your waist, his vibranium arm snaking around you, cool against the heat of the water and your flushed skin. Goosebumps prickled instantly across your stomach, nipples peaking at the contrast.

You turned slowly, steam swirling around you in thick waves as you met Bucky’s eyes. His wet hair was slicked against his neck, droplets clinging to the dark strands and sliding down his jawline. Beads of water traced the line of his throat and the rise of his Adam’s apple, disappearing over the muscle of his chest. His hands found your hips, warm and solid, the grip almost possessive.

You tried not to look down, tried not to let your eyes drift to the answer to a question you’d been too proud to ask. Instead, a smirk tugged at the corner of your lips as you stepped into him, letting your palms slide up the hard planes of his chest, past his dogtags and looped around the back of his neck.

“I think this is going to do the opposite of cooling me down,” he muttered, voice husky, half-lost beneath the steady rhythm of water hitting tile.

You let out a soft, breathless laugh, and then you kissed him.

It wasn’t gentle.

Your mouths crashed together like you’d both been holding back for too long. Hungry. Desperate. Sloppy. The water only made it messier, lips sliding, catching, breath hissing as teeth grazed. He kissed like he needed to claim this moment before the world snapped back into place. You returned the kiss with equal urgency, fingers threading into his wet hair, tugging, needing more.

His hands slid down your back, firm, sure, guiding you until your spine pressed against the slick wall of the shower. You wrapped a leg around his hip, instinctive, needy, and he growled softly into your mouth as his hand dropped to support your thigh, holding you steady. You ground your hips into him, once, twice. His grip tightened, and the next thing you knew, he was lifting you, hands firm on your ass as he carried you effortlessly from the shower. The bathroom was thick with steam, fog curling along the edges of the mirror and dripping from the ceiling. Water trailed down both of you, soaking the tiles as he strode across the room.

Your back met the edge of the counter with a soft thud, followed by the chill of the fogged-up mirror behind you. The coolness shocked your skin and made your spine arch sharply, drawing a low noise from your throat. Bucky didn’t miss a beat. He was still kissing you, still swallowing your gasp as his hands ran down your thighs and urged them further apart.

He stepped in, slotting himself between your legs, his body flush against yours. The sensation of him made your head spin. Water from the still-running shower continued to hiss in the background, steam billowing out and filling the room like a cocoon. You were both soaked, skin slick and glistening, lips swollen, breaths short. Your fingers found the back of his neck again, anchoring yourself as he kissed you deeper, slower now, like he was savouring every second.

His hands slid down your hips and tugged you forward until your thighs bracketed his waist. You felt his cock, solid and insistent, pulsing against the sensitive skin of your inner thigh, and your breath caught.

“I think I’ve dreamt of this moment.” He confessed between kisses, before consuming you again.

It took little resistance for him to push into you in one smooth motion. You weren’t just drenched from the shower. Your whole body sang from the shock of it, a strangled sound tearing from your throat as your fingers fisted in his wet hair. His mouth tore from yours with a ragged gasp, trailing down your jaw, your neck, leaving fire in his wake. Bucky braced a hand behind you on the counter, the other gripping your thigh, steadying you as his hips began to move precise and relentless.

“Do you know how long I’ve thought about this?” he muttered into the curve of your neck, voice wrecked. His lips brushed against your pulse, the edge of his teeth grazing the skin like he was half a second from losing control. “How many nights I told myself I couldn’t touch you... shouldn’t want you, couldn’t have you.”

You let out a breathless laugh that quickly turned into a gasp as his hips snapped forward again. 

“Keep going,” you rasped, one hand clawing up the curve of his back, the other buried in his hair. “Don’t stop.”

His only reply was a low, broken groan against your skin, like he was coming apart just from the feel of you wrapped around him. You locked your ankles behind him and rocked your hips forward, drawing him deeper. A spark of pleasure flared up your spine, making your head fall back against the fogged-up mirror..

“I tried so fucking hard to keep my distance.” He chuckled low against your collarbone, though the sound was strained, caught between shallow pants and a raw groan of need. “You have no idea what you do to me.”

His vibranium hand slid between your bodies. His fingers found that sensitive bundle of nerves, circling with gentle strokes, and your body jolted in response. An uncontrollable whimper left you as your thighs trembled around him.

“I’ve been dying to hear those sounds from you.” Bucky panted against your ear. 

You pressed closer to him, shaking legs tightening around his waist as you pursued his fingers. He chuckled at your poorly hidden desperation, chest vibrating from the sound. As his fingers swirled, cock pumping in and out, you felt your body clench involuntarily around him, drawing a moan from him. 

“Fuck, Bucky, ” you breathed, barely able to form the word as your pleasure surged, unrelenting and dizzying. “If I’d known this was what you were holding back, I would’ve pushed harder.”

Bucky’s rhythm faltered, his thrusts becoming uneven and desperate, chasing the high he could feel coiling tighter in both of you. Your raw moans echoed around the small bathroom, rising above the hiss of the shower and the frantic beat of the slap of wet skin. Your climax broke over you like a wave crashing against the shore. Your entire body arched, legs trembling as you whimpered, lips parted, eyes squeezed shut. Pleasure tore through you like lightning, leaving your nerves sparking in its wake.

With a guttural groan muffled against your neck, Bucky followed you over the edge. You felt him twitch inside you, warmth spreading as he spilt into you, his hips stuttering erratically as he buried himself as deep as he could go. His arms tightened around you, as though he needed to hold you close to keep himself grounded.

For a long, breathless moment, you stayed like that. Tangled together, trembling, the heat of the afterglow. The water still rained behind you, forgotten, as you both came down slowly, limbs heavy and slick with sweat and steam. Then, slowly, Bucky lifted his head to look at you. His hair was plastered to his forehead in wet strands, water trailing down the lines of his cheekbones and along his jaw. His eyes, dark and hungry, searched yours with a mix of dazed satisfaction and something else. A flicker of awe, maybe. Or disbelief.

You gave him a slow, wicked smirk and reached up to brush a dripping lock of hair off his brow, your fingers lingering just a second longer than necessary.

“I need you to pull that transfer request, by the way,” you murmured, voice low and rough with breath. “There is no way in hell I’m training with Thor.”

His lips twitched, a hoarse laugh escaping him, short and surprised. But the fire in his gaze didn’t fade. If anything, it darkened.

“I’ll pull it…” he said, voice thick with promise as his hands slid back down to your waist, “…when I’m done with you.”

From the way his fingers gripped your hips, you had a feeling that wouldn’t be anytime soon. 

---

hello! i no longer have a taglist because it got too long and was reaching the tag limit. if you want to be notified when i post please follow @artficlly-updates and turn on post notifications!

I guarantee this would just make me a better person

Relief Mission (Part 2 of 2)

Pairing: Bucky x Female!Reader

Word Count: 3.3k

Warnings: Mutual pining, flirt, and so much smut

Summary: The morning after and beyond.

A/N: Special thanks to my beta reader @whisperlullaby This one's for you @weekendgothgirl.

Part 1 of Relief Mission

You had no idea what time it was when it happened, probably the middle of the night. That strange sensation of falling hit you and you jerked awake to the realization that you were falling out of the bed. You had made yourself as small as possible, put yourself on the edge of the bed, to give Bucky room. Scrambling to keep yourself from hitting the floor, you feel a hand grab your waist and pull you back. Bucky fit your body to his in the small bed, burying his face in your neck. 

“Thanks,” you whisper, but there’s no answer from the man snuggling against you. “Bucky?” you try again but the only answer you receive is a moan as he flexes his hips more firmly into you. You bite your lip and debate what to do. You could try to extricate yourself but you imagine that the loose grip he holds is deceptive or maybe you just want it to be. You decide to stay where you are, it was where you wanted to be anyway. You smile as you fall back to sleep. 

The next morning, you wake with your face pressed to his chest, legs tangled with his, and your hands curled into his shirt. When a ray of light hits the one eye not shielded by his chest, you groan. 

“Piss off, sun. I’m not done with nighttime yet,” you mumble the sentiment, enjoying the feel of waking in someone’s arms. Bucky’s chest rumbles against your face. His laugh telling you he was awake and had heard you.

“Morning, doll,” he says quietly. You can hear the smile in his voice and bask in it for a moment.

“Mmm, morning. I know, I know. Gotta get up. Long drive,” you say mostly to yourself. 

“Five more minutes?” Bucky whispers. 

“I knew I liked you,” you smile as you nuzzle into his warmth. His arms tighten around you slightly. You fall into a hazy half-sleep, more comfortable than you should be with a man you barely knew. Rousing yourself a few minutes later, you take a deep breath, “Sorry,” you extricate yourself, sit on the edge of the bed, and grasp for words to explain why you were practically wrapped around him. “I, um… Thanks for saving me from hitting the floor last night,“ you say with a nervous little laugh. 

“What?” Bucky’s eyebrows knit together as he looks at you from where he’s still laid out on the bed.

“Last night?...” you read his confused expression and continue. “I almost fell out of the bed and you pulled me back. I, uh, guess you slept through the whole thing, huh?”

“Yeah, I guess,” Bucky scratches the back of his head. “I’m not surprised. I was probably crowding you.”

“No!,” you say too quickly. “Not at all. Anyway, we should get going. I’m going to change. My shirt should be dry by now. I’ll give your’s back.”

“No need, doll. Keep it. Looks-” Bucky cuts himself off.

“What?” you ask, curiously. 

“Nothing,” he shakes his head with a sheepish smile.

“No, it’s okay. What were you going to say?” 

“It, um, it looks better on you anyway,” Bucky quietly says and then stares, waiting for your reaction. 

“Oh,” you smile, heat creeping up your face. “Okay. Th-thanks. I’ll be out in just a minute.”

Bucky kicks himself as you scramble into the bathroom. His stupid mouth always seemed to run ahead of his brain around you. You probably thought he was an idiot. 

You stood in the bathroom for a minute and couldn’t stop smiling like an idiot. He was so adorable. Shaking yourself from your thoughts, you get ready quickly. You still had to get to the rendezvous point to join the rest of your team. 

The drive was long but it was as if a dam had broken between you and Bucky. Perhaps the shared intimacy of sleeping in each other's arms had made the awkwardness melt away. Whatever the reason, the polite conversation and long silences you had formerly shared with the metal-armed supersoldier had turned into laughs and getting to know each other. He was surprisingly funny and incredibly sweet. The stories he told were endearing. You even managed to make him laugh. He asked questions and listened to you prattle on. 

By the end of the drive, your attraction to him had become a full blown crush. However, there was no time to dwell on it as the team immediately went on to the next part of the mission. It was a few days before you were back home and settled down from the action. You were happy when Bucky sought you out more often after that. You spent time together, laughed, and just enjoyed each other. The only thing that was bothering you is that he had never made a move in the two weeks since that night. You were wondering if he just wanted to be friends. 

You had just closed your door after hanging out with the team for the night when there was a knock. Opening the door, you look curiously at Bucky as he leans against the doorjamb. 

“Hey. What's up?” you ask, your heart beating faster.

“Do you ever think about that morning? Waking up together?” Bucky looks at you. His eyes are filled with such tenderness and just a tinge of fear. 

“All the time. All the time,” you smile widely and pull him through the door.

He shuts it as he walks through and your heart soared as he wrapped you in his arms. You stared into each other's eyes, taking each other in and then the tension snapped. His lips found yours and he kissed you until you were dizzy. It was as if neither of you wanted to separate. When he finally pulls away, you smile at each other. 

“I’ve been wanting to do that for weeks,” Bucky says, his hand caressing your neck. 

“What took you so long?” you tease. 

“I’m a little out of practice at the whole dating thing,” Bucky chuckles while his cheeks tinge pink. 

“Does that mean you want to date me?" You bite your lip.

"Yeah, doll. Can I take you to dinner tomorrow?" Bucky asks, nervously.

"Why don't you take me to breakfast in the morning?" You raise an eyebrow.

"Uh, sure. If that's what you want. I'll see you in the morning," Bucky stutters in confusion. 

Realizing he hadn't taken your meaning, you decide to be a little more clear,  "Ya know, it's a long commute from my room to yours, maybe you'd like to just… stay the night?"

Biting your lip, you watch as realization dawns on Bucky's face. It's nearly comical. Sure, you were being forward but you'd practically walked around with a lady boner since that morning. Constantly hot and bothered from feeling him against you but nothing you did seemed to quell the ache. When Bucky stepped forward, his expression was full of wonder, as if he couldn't believe you had extended such an invitation.

He puts a hand on your neck and then pulls you to him for a kiss. You had expected it to be passionate as the one before had been but it was incredibly soft and tender. Your eyes flutter closed as you take in the moment. The feel of his lips, his hand caressing your neck, his metal arm going around your waist to pull you closer, and then suddenly, he breaks the kiss, bends down, and picks you up. You gasp as you put your arms around his neck and stare at him in surprise. Giving you a sweet smile, he walks to your bed and gently lays you on it. He follows you down, settling next to you before finding your lips again. His hands wander over your arms, your hips, your neck, as if he’s discovering you. Memorizing your curves and testing those spots that make you shudder. 

Taking some initiative, you put your leg over his and pull him closer. He rolls you under him, settling between your legs, and putting one hand under your shirt to feel your skin. You slide your hands under his shirt, feeling his warm skin, and push it up slowly. He takes the hint and leans back to pull it off. Running your hands over his chest, the ache between your legs becomes more pronounced. 

When you look into his face, he plucks at the hem of your shirt, the question in his eyes clear. You lift yourself up to help him pull it off and you’re a little surprised when he reaches behind your back and unclasps your bra with ease. He registers your surprised expression and pulls away. 

“I’m sorry. I should- I should’ve asked,” Bucky begins to stutter. 

You put your fingers to his lips and shake your head gently, “I was just surprised at how easily you did that. The answer’s yes.” You pull the bra off and throw it aside, immediately pulling him to you and enjoying the delicious warmth of his chest pressed to yours. You kiss his neck, dragging your tongue across the stubble there. 

Bucky shudders and whispers desperately, “Doll, I’m trying so hard to go slow.”

“Why?” You say against his skin, “You don’t have to go slow.”

“I don’t want to hurt you,” Bucky groans. 

You let out a little laugh, “I’m not fragile. You won’t hurt me, baby.” To drive home your point, you nip at his neck. And just like that, the dam is broken. Bucky presses you into the mattress, your hands intertwined as he kisses you with abandon. His hips flex into yours and you moan as you wrap your legs around him. He drags his lips down your neck and pays special attention to your breasts as he practically rips open the zipper on your jeans. You shimmy as he pulls them, along with your panties, down your legs and tosses them aside. He’s nearly feral as he pushes your legs apart as wide as he can, stretching your cunt open to him. His mouth attacks your clit and you arch. 

“Jesus! Fuck, Bucky! Oh my god!” Your words melt into moans as he fucks you with his tongue. You arch and keen with each motion over your clit. You grab handfuls of his hair as he eats you. It’s nearly too intense but you wouldn’t stop him to save your life. You’d never felt anything this incredible and it wasn’t long before you cried out, “I’m coming! Fuck! Oh, God, oh, God!” You were babbling as Bucky never even thought to stop or slow down. He kept going as if he’d never tasted anything as divine as you, as if his sole goal in life was to make you feel those incredible waves crash over you. He changed his angle and speed a second later and it had you building more quickly than you knew you could. You were bucking uncontrollably, chasing that friction he was creating, and then your body went taut, “Bucky! Baby, fuck! I- Ohhh!” Your voice died out as your whole body spasmed with the orgasm he had pulled from you. You felt like a ragdoll as you came back to yourself. You look down at Bucky where he’s watching you from between your legs, only his eyes visible as he slowly circles your clit. 

“Glad you aren’t fragile, doll. I’m not done yet,” Bucky smiles as he slides his fingers inside you and flicks his tongue more firmly against you. 

“Oh, fuck,” you moan, “I can take it.” 

You grab handfuls of the sheets as his fingers find that spot inside you and the feeling of his tongue pushes you higher. You still manage to push the words past your lips, “Just remember, I get to taste you next. Fuck, it’s gonna be so good.” You feel your cunt gush as you say the words and Bucky growls, sending vibrations through you. “That’s right, baby. Gonna suck that cock. Want to feel it hitting the back of my throat. Gonna make you weak, oh fuck, from my mouth. Bucky! I’m gonna-” you scream, you can’t stop yourself. The orgasm that rips through you is the most intense thing that you’ve ever felt. You ride it out, one hand in Bucky’s hair to hold him in place as the incredible aftershocks hit you. When Bucky’s tongue starts making those delicious circles again, you laugh as you pull his head away from you, “my turn, handsome.”

He crawls up your body and hovers above you for a moment, looking at your debauched expression, “You don’t have to, doll.”

You smile and reach up to touch his face before catching him off guard and flipping him under you. Hovering over him, you smile, “I want to.” You lean down to kiss him, tasting yourself on his lips and grinding your soaked pussy over his considerable bulge. Pulling back, you stare into his eyes as you slide down his body. You pull his sweatpants off and lick your lips as his length bobs in front of you. “Fuck, I’m going to enjoy this.” You wrap your hand around him and give a long lick across his tip. 

“Doll!” The heels of Bucky’s hands are pressed into his eye sockets as if he’s in the most pain… or pleasure of his life. 

“What is it, baby?” you tease, repeating the action. You swirl your tongue around his head as you watch his breathing pick up. 

“I can’t, I’m gonna explode,” he whimpers. 

“That’s kinda the point,” you smirk as you take him in your mouth, running your tongue along his underseam. 

“Jesus, doll, I’m serious! I don’t think I can hold myself back. It’s been too long. You feel fucking amazing,” Bucky moans. 

“Then don’t,” you say before sliding him back in. You fuck him with your mouth, sliding your tongue back and forth, pumping what you can’t fit with your hand, palming his balls, and moaning at the divine feel of him. You employ every trick you know to give him pleasure. He fists the sheets, breathing heavily, and tries not to buck his hips. 

“Doll, I’m gonna… Where- oh, fuck, Doll!” Bucky’s pleas end on a long moan as you slide him into your throat. You hold back your gag reflex as Bucky explodes, filling you with his spend. It’s almost too much but you manage to relax and swallow. His hands nearly shred your sheets. He was incredibly turned on that you would even do this for him but when you slid him all the way in and let him come down your throat, he didn’t think he’d stop coming. His balls tightened up harder than ever before and all he wanted was to make you feel as incredible. You slide him out carefully and move to curl up beside him. “I need more,” Bucky’s voice is gravelly. 

“Oh, sorry, of course,” you sit up to move back down the bed but don’t make it far.

“No,” Bucky says as he lifts you and sets you down with a knee on each side of his head. “Just like this,” he says, pulling you down to sit on his face. Grabbing hold of your headboard, you gasp as pleasure rolls through you. Bucky’s hands knead your ass as he flicks his tongue over your clit again and again. 

“Bucky!”

“Ride my face, doll. Come on, you deserve it after that little show you put on,” Bucky uses his grip on you to move you back and forth, encouraging you to take your pleasure from him. You’re tentative at first but then the pleasure rolls through you as you grind against his tongue. As you roll your hips, he moves his head back and forth adding to the friction. Twisting to look back, you see his cock hardening again and all you can think of is riding it rather than his face, letting him fill you up, and as the image runs through your mind, your cunt spasms.

“Fuck! Bucky! I need you! I need you inside me,” you say the words desperately as you scramble down his body. He’s still only semi-hard but you line him up with your entrance and sink down. “Oh, fuck, yes,” you whimper as you slowly move your hips, eyes rolling back in your head at the pure hedonism. 

Bucky grabs your hips, staring at where your two bodies meet, indulging in the fact that he’s finally buried inside you. “You feel amazing, doll. Fuck.”

“Bucky,” you moan as you feel him growing inside of you, stretching you, hitting deep. “Bucky, I can’t stop. It’s so good, so fucking good,” you babble as you build momentum. You grind your hips against him, pleasure building with each motion.

“I wanna see you come on top of me, doll. Look at me, look in my eyes and come all over my cock. I want to see you fall apart. Give it to me,” Bucky commands. 

“Oh, fuck,” you whine as your orgasm breaks over you. Staring into his eyes, your mouth forms an O as you lose yourself to the spasms. Your hips stutter and Bucky holds your face as he watches you. 

“I know, I know, babydoll. Good girl. You feel so good riding my cock. Just had to have it in you, huh? Couldn’t let me feel you come on my tongue one more time, you needed this cock inside you. Well, I hope you meant it when you said you weren’t fragile. We’re not done yet,” Bucky smiles cockily as he rolls you under him. He starts to move his hips in a slow rhythm, making you lift your knees to wrap your legs around him, arching to give him better access. 

Sex had never been this good. It had never felt like this. Never been this thorough and pleasurable. You were lost in it. Lost in him. He could do anything to you at this point and you would beg for more. 

“Bucky, Bucky, oh god, Bucky, please,” you moan. 

“Please what, doll?” Bucky murmurs in your ear. 

“More, harder, please!” you whine. 

“Good girl,” Bucky praises, “You want more, huh? Yeah, you need it, don’t you? Tell me.”

“I need it. Please, baby, I need more!”

Bucky pulls your legs up, throwing them over his shoulders and begins fucking into you with hard, fast strokes making you cry out. It was intense and you felt your cunt tightening around him.

“Yeah, that’s what my babydoll needed. Fuck, you feel good. You're squeezing me tight, taking me so good,” Bucky’s hands are everywhere, holding your hips, feathering over your nipples, caressing your neck. 

Your brain goes into complete overdrive between his hips driving into you relentlessly and the words of a sex god spilling out of his mouth. Fuck, it was just the first time and you were addicted to him already. You were gonna need a dose of him every day for the rest of your life. 

“Come on, doll. Come for me again. I’m so close but I need to feel you do that all over my cock again. Give it to me,” Bucky demands sweetly. 

“Ohhhh, fuuuck,” you whine as your orgasm slams through you. You nearly black out from the intensity but you will yourself to watch as Bucky loses himself to the fluttering of your cunt around him. His roar of pleasure as he emptied himself into you makes your cunt grip him even tighter. When he’s spent, he lowers your legs and gently lays down beside you. Pulling you against him, he kisses your neck and you smile. 

“See, not fragile at all,” you quip, still trying to catch your breath. 

“I hope not, doll. After all, this is just a break. We’re not done yet,” Bucky chuckles. 

Your eyes widen but, never one to back down from a challenge, you reply, “Barely started, baby.”

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i never hated you

Summary | You and Bucky never got along.

Content | 18+ content, minors DNI, P in V, enemies to lovers, NFSW.

Paring | Bucky Barnes x female reader

Side note | every time I write smut it flops, hopefully this will be the one 😩❤️ and also check out my other work!!

"You're training with Buck." Steve doesn't bother to look her way knowing the moment he does it will be met with narrowed eyes. The look of annoyance forms creases against her forehead, arms crossing against her chest as a huff fills the distance between them.

"Steve, you can't -."

"No one else can train you. I have a mission, Nat is coming with me. Only you and Bucky will be here." Steve had taken her under his wing, teaching her everything he knows. If only his best friends weren't at each other's throats all the time.

"Well I don't want to."

"Suck it up sweetheart." The voice snarls behind her, both heads turn toward the direction of the door. Bucky crossed his arms across his chest, intimidating as ever as his eyes darken under his gaze. "It's not like I want to waste my time with you but here I am."

The way her lip curls up is annoying. His fingers dig into the large bulge of his bicep to suppress the urge to say something he knows Steve would only scowl him for.

Bucky was handsome to say the least, dark short hair with an equally short beard that peppers over the skin of his chiseled jaw. With a pair of striking blue eyes that anyone can be charmed by, not to mention the muscular build that even a nun would be able to look away from, too bad he's a jerk.

The two can't even remember how it started, this unspoken hatred but it's been going on for months now. While she's blames it on his jealously of Steve, he blames it on the fact that she's so whiny and always needs guidance.

"Enough." Steve's authoritative tone leaves very little room to disobey, seafoam blue eyes tightening are a warning enough. "Both of you will act like adults, like you are."

"Yeah, whatever." Bucky mumbles under his breath, head turning to convey the room to avoid her gaze but hers doesn't move. Greedy eyes meet the thick column of his neck, the belly muscle popping through and the sudden feeling to run her tongue across it makes her eyes widen.

"What are you looking at?" Bucky snarls.

"Nothing!" She hisses back, "Get over yourself."

"You're the one looking at me, honey." The nickname makes her visibly cringe, teeth gritting as she steps closer despite her cheeks burning hot with embrassment.

"Stop calling me that." The way he steps closer until their chest to chest is intimidating, towering height earning a smug look from Bucky.

"Buck, out." Steve huffs, fed up with them both. The next words mumbled under his breath, "Can't concentrate with you two acting like children."

The slam of the door causes her to jump, head snapping towards the direction except Bucky is long done but the lingering smell of fresh mint and chapped leather is promient.

***

"You're late." Bucky booms so loudly it seems to echo off the walls and causes her to hold a hand against her chest, breath hitching as she places her things down on the mat.

"I'm two minutes late, got your panties in a twist?" The words causing his lips to curl with distaste. "Let's just get this over with."

Before Bucky can even turns he feels a force of a body try to knock him onto his feet but he quickly turns, not paying much attention to his left hand until it comes it contact with her cheek.

It was hard enough to hurt and his face drops instantly, he watches as she cups her cheek and he can already see the angry, red mark forming there.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to -."

Two rather small hands aim for his head but he manages to dodge the fists but he doesn't expect the strong leg that comes from behind and sweeps him off his feet. Bucky reaches forward as he brings to fall towards the ground, big fingers curl around her shirt and pull until she tumbles on top of him with a huff.

His chest rises and falls under the scrutiny of her gaze. Parted thighs straddle his lap, a face full of hair as her hands flatten against his chest to push off the fall but he can't seem to keep his eyes trained, instead they fall to irregular rhythm her chest. Beads of sweat forming against skin and trails down and over collar bones and into the valley of her breasts and he can't seem to look away as they move with every breath.

Between her thighs radiates with warmth and it's his turn to stop breathing with the way her eye lids flutter at the sensation of his growing erection press against her clothed mound. The thick material of his tactical pants grinds against her puffy clit even through the clothes.

The moment her eyes open she's met with the intense electric blue eyes. His bottom lip is tucked between his pearly whites as an experimental hand presses against the small of her back. The size difference makes her head spin, the size of his hand as he pushes her forward on his lap to catch the swollen head of his clothed cock against her throbbing clit.

The mix of a moan and whine that fall from her lips makes his cock throb and she turns her head away with embarrassment but the hand that cups her chin and turns her back to the sultry gaze, "No, you sound so sweet."

The words makes her gasp or maybe it's the thumb that lays flat against her bottom lip and toys with the skin. Bucky doesn't dare move, just leans in excruciatingly slow, unsure eyes flickering from her own to her lips waiting for the words to stop him but they never come. The moment he's met with the soft, warm lips he melts.

Time felt like it almost stopped when his nose nudged her own, lips barely touching, they hover as he lets out a soft sigh, leaning closer until his eyelashes flutter against her own.

Every breath he takes smells like her. Purple and pink wild flowers and vanilla slips past his flaring nostrils as his lips form against her own. Both filled with fire, body tingling as he pulls her closer into his lap to give him a better angle to kiss her from.

He pulls away, it's just for a quick second to catch his breath but steals a small glance and his heart pounds. He wants to say how beautiful she looks, how warm she feels but he can't seem to form words so instead claims her lips again. It's heavy with emotions as the taste of sweet mint comes with his tongue parting her lips.

So caught up in the way his hand curls into her hair as she grinds her hips slowly, she doesn't feel the fingers that slip under the thin material of the shirt. Cool, false appendages press against the base of her belly as a small moan vibrates his chest as she shifts her weight against his aching hard on.

"You are so beautiful.." To be on the sweet, giving side of Bucky Barnes is almost breath taking. Time moves so much slower, it's hard to breath as he captures her lips again but not before his hand experimentally raises further and further up the soft skin of her stomach but stops right under her breasts. His eyes flicker up to her own, a silent question, he won't dare move another muscle until she nods. "Can I, sweet girl?"

The nickname makes her heart flutter. Since when did Bucky use nicknames like this and why did it make her skin so unbarebly hot?

"Yes." The words come out before she even has a chance to think about the consequences but the way his hands come down to cup handfuls of her breast she soon realizes she doesn't care.

His lips press against the shell of her ear, hot breath making it nearly impossible to focus on anything else except for the two fingers that tweak the peak of her nipple. Her mouth falls open with a gasp and Bucky smiles against the skin of her neck as smooth kisses trail. Open mouth and wet kisses cause her to shudder, a tongue peaks out to taste the salty skin.

"Bucky." She moans his name so sweetly that he can't help but groan. He pulls away and the only audible sounds is the whirling and clicking of mechanical plates as he cups her cheek.

"You are.. driving me crazy." He admits, "I gotta have you, please."

He asks like she could ever deny him, she nods against his palm and finger reach out to unloop his belt but a thumb that presses into her chin stops the movements. "Are you sure?"

"Want you." She mewls and this time encloses the line between their lips and invades his mouth once again to taste the fresh mint.

Once opened, her fingers dip past the waist band of his boxers and skillfully wrap around the base of his cock. He huffs against her lips, hand wrapping around her wrist as she tests the waters and gives it a small squeeze.

With an experimental movement of her wrist Bucky hisses, heavy eyelashes flutter against her cheek. His hips lift from their position on the ground to thrust for more and just like that he's putty in her hands.

"You don't have to -."

He couldn't even finish his sentence if he wanted too. Met with the fifty site of her pulling away only to spit on her hand and tugging the hem of his boxers dangerously low on his hips until his cock is freed and curves against his abdomen.

Slowly her hand slides down the length of Bucky, and up, then down again until beads of pre-cum mix with her salvia to create wet, flithy sounds.

"That's it." Bucky plops from his position on his elbows to flat against the floor, eyes fluttering close as split starts to slide down his lower abdomen and balls, but her torment doesn't end there.

Soft fingers cup the sac with a delicate but meaningful touch. "God, honey."

The pet name makes her blush but it goes unseen to Bucky as he whines. Her head bobs lower and his head shoots up with confusion and only to watch her lips pucker and a long string of spit cover the head of his cock.

The self made lubricant squelshes with every quick motion. Bucky's finger tips curl into the foam mat understand them, his hips tuting into the air to meet the rhythm of her hand.

"Sweetheart." He calls so beautifully, eyes pinching with pleasure. "So good but god, stop."

She's determined as every and Bucky's throat runs dry, belly growing with warmth as a wave of heat makes his head grow hot and his body buzz with anticipation. He weakly lifts his head to only be met with her sparkling eyes, a ball of pleasure grows in his throat as he mumbles, "You are so fucking sexy."

Flesh fingers wrap around her wrist and hult any more movements. Lips fingers her own as she falls into the mat, back hitting the foam with a small gasp but Bucky's mouth catches it. His fingers run slowly along the hem of her yoga pants as his lips his the corner of hers, "Are you going to let me see that pretty pussy, sweet pea?"

"Yes, please, touch me." The words are sweet, beautiful music to his ears as two fingers prod against her chin. Her mouth opens instantly at the intrusion as the digits press against her tongue. Lips close down on them, swirling and licking until Bucky seemed satisfied with the slickness of them.

A vibranium arm pulls at the waist band of her pants and forces them down, Bucky decides not to comment on that fact she hadn't worn any underwear. Her arousal smears across her thighs, so much so that Bucky can practically smell it.

Those two digits wet her stomach as they trail down to her already soaked entrance. The tips kiss the opening of her pussy and it's impossible to fight against grinding down on them. Those thick, warm fingers spread along the hood of her cunt, teasingly until they press against the swollen clit and her hips jolt off the mat.

"Buck -." One finger slips into her sopping hole and she whines at the intrusion.

"Oh, baby." Bucky clicks his tongue with a smirk, blue eyes darkening as he speaks, "So tight, sweet pea."

A large hand glides under her back that arches, feeling the grooves of vertebrae against his false fingertips up until the grasp the back of her neck to pull her into a harsh kiss.

Teeth clash together as his pace increases, lips parting but his forehead presses against hers and his hand keeps it's hold on her neck. "Want another one?"

"Please, please." She mewls as eyes flutter close at the sensation of another finger stretching her open. Not wasting any time, they leave only to come back and reach that spot in that makes her eyes roll back into her head and mouth open with silent screams.

The sounds coming from in between her legs are heavenly, the swishes of her juices that drips down her legs and Bucky's hands as he finger fucks her into the mat. "You are so good for me, look at you. So desperate honey, you wanna come?"

The silent reply earns a squeeze at the base of her neck and Buck clenches his teeth, "I said, do you want to come?"

Her pussy squeezes around his fingers with a wanton moan, "Yes, Buck! Wanna come!"

Head falling to the mat harshly as his fingers release their hold. Head feeling drowsy as tears sting and blur her vision, heat creeping up the base of her stomach as goose bumps erupt across her body. "Come for me honey, I want it."

All it takes is seven little words for his fingers to milk her orgasm through. Heart leaping inside her chest as his soft kisses and mixed with the snap of his fingers she feels something snap inside with white, searing hot pleasure that temporarily blinds her.

Bucky doesn't offer a warning, the sudden feeling of his heavy cock is a burning but pleasure able stretch that causes a shriek to rip through her swollen lips.

Bucky's eyes roll back into his head as her pussy pretty much sucks his cock up inch by inch. Two cold fingers tease the bundle of nerves and rub circular motions as he sinks every inch of his cock until he's nestled so deep she feels him in her stomach. The delicious burn makes her lightheaded, so full of him it's hard to form words. She curses under her breath but Bucky barely notices, eyes fixated on the filthy sight of him stuffed so deep inside her. Hips against hips as he tries to press the rest but the intrusion sends sparks up her spine. Bucky stills, eyes finding hers for one last time before testing the waters with a deep, sensational thrust.

The squeal that falls from her lips is one of pleasure and pain but straight up sinful and he groans on his own accord as her cunt cleches around his throbbing cock.

"Such a sweet pussy, baby. She's so thirsty for me."

Hips snap faster and faster and he can't look away from the sight of his cock disappearing and reappearing into her silky opening over and over again. The sounds that fill the room are mixes of Bucky and hers followed by the slapping skin and squelches of her leaking juices. Pleasure tingles up his spine every time he hits that spot that makes her vision blur and drool gather at the corner of her lips.

"That's it, sweet pea. Taking me so good." He smirks as her mouth falls open but no words or sound come through, "Fucking you dumb, huh?"

His thighs shake, covered in her slick as his whole body erupts with heat. Stomach studying with the familar feeling of incoming relief. With every push of his hips come deep, rough strokes that hit that spot that makes her stomach ache.

Bucky loves the sounds she makes, how she begs for more and more, his hips rolling into her pussy which drips between the pair. It smears against his abdomen, leaks down his and her thighs.

Back arching off the mat, pushing him deeper inside of her, if that's even possible. A hand rest against the small of her back giving him a better angle to continue to fuck her senseless. “Buck, oh, so fucking good!"

"Yeah, princess? Still hate me?"

Half crescent form from his nails digging into the flesh of her hip and sweats drips down his chest and forehead. "I'm so close!"

The whine has him groaning with relief feeling his own balls tighten at the words. "Bucky, I have to cum - fuck!"

"Where do you want it, sweetheart?" Buck visibly chokes as another wave of heat warms his belly.

"In me, want to feel you in me!" No doubt in her mind she's going to feel him for weeks.

“Come for me.” The orgasm hits her like a truck - clenching around him so hard that his hips sputter but he continues to drive his dock so deep inside of her that her legs begin to shake.

He hits a spot so deep and explodes, lining his thick ropes of cum into her pussy and stuffs her to the brink. There's so much as it drips from where the two are still connected but he doesn't dare move. Taking a few seconds to recover against the cushion of her chest with deep breathes.

Bucky rests on his elbows as fingers hook behind her neck to gently being her eyes to his own. Eyes so lovingly soak in every beautiful mark of her face as soft digits rub against her hairline as the mechanical arms holds her whole head in his palm. Gentle lips press against her own, a soft kiss that he pulls away with a smile. "I always thought you were beautiful."

His fingers move the hairs from her forehead to press a kiss to her still red cheek as she speaks, "I never hated you."

I never wanted it to end but this was sooooo good

6 • Operation: No More Operations | OPERATION: FAKING IT ...?

6 • Operation: No More Operations | OPERATION: FAKING IT …?

Description: Your suspension is spent collecting on your IOU's from Tony, a trip to Wakanda & Whale Watching then some happily ever after for a man who deserves the world.

Pairing: Beefy Bucky Barnes x Female Avenger Reader

Word Count: 7.5K

Warnings: NSFW, 18+, Cute Bucky, Fluffy Bucky, Bucky with children, swearing, all the smut, p in v, unprotected, oral sex (M + F), public sex, Daddy kink, mentions of choking, unprotected sex.

A/N: I can only apologise how long this has taken to get finished, I have been super busy for the last few weeks! Sad to say goodbye to these two.

Series Masterlist

[Previous Chapter]

‘Burtie stop it, no! Leave little Stevie alone’

You had been in Wakanda for three days & your pup was obsessed with playing with Bucky’s adopted goats, he had been so nervous that they wouldn’t remember him, he spent the entire flight anxiously pacing the Quinjet until you decided to distract him by crouching between his legs & pulling out his cock, it didn’t take long for him to get hard & with a single kiss on the tip he was ready to go. ‘Fuck sweetheart, don’t stop’ he wound your hair around his metal fist & guided you back & forth on his length, you couldn’t help slipping your hand between your legs, moaning as your finger brushed past your swollen clit to plunge a digit into your wet hole, the sinful noise he made as your whimpers vibrated on his cock & his utterings of ‘Yes Bambi, touch your pussy.’ ‘Such a good girl, taking me so well’ ‘Do that thing I like, fuucck, you’re so good with your mouth.’ spurred you on to add another finger into your soaking cunt.

You hadn’t ever enjoyed giving head in previous relationships, but with Bucky it was possibly one of your favourite things to do, to see this big bulky Super Soldier crumble before you & inflict such levels of pleasure that it somehow felt like you were receiving it all made sense as to why he loved eating you out every chance he got. 

Climaxing whilst not biting Bucky’s cock was a skill you had mastered quickly, as always encouraged by the filth that tumbled out of his mouth ‘you gonna cum on your fingers, that pussy is begging for me to fill it, you’re going to be dripping with my cum meeting a king darlin, everyone will know you’re mine.’ You spasmed around your digits in utter bliss, your eyes rolling back as the roaring pleasure took over & once your glistening fingers were pushed between Bucky’s lips he was a gonner, tasting your sweet nectar pushed him over the edge shooting his cum into the back of your throat, holding you until he had completely emptied himself into your mouth, you held out your cum-free tongue to show him you had swallowed it all, it had become a habit & his praises of ‘that’s my good girl’ & ‘lick every last drop honey’ ramped up your need for his cock to be buried in you. 

There were many times you cursed the super soldier serum, mainly because of his super hearing & the fact he could hear you fall over & rush to help whatever ailment had resulted then try not to laugh at how you tripped, or the conversations you would have with Burtie early in the mornings about how much you loved him & his dad. But you loved that serum when, mere moments after he had climaxed, he watched as you licked your lips of any remaining evidence he had been in your mouth & he was ready for you again. Not even waiting a second for you to catch your breath before swiftly lifting you up onto his lap, pushing your knickers aside & impaling you on his rock hard length.

You wouldn’t ever get use to his size, each time, even soaking wet the stretch felt like nothing else, ‘dripping for me darlin’ you nodded your head completely fucked out as you took him all the way, ‘Wanna be buried in you every day, fuck your pussy is heaven’ you couldn’t even form words as he was thrusting his hips in rhythm with you bouncing on his cock, ‘my good fucking girl, all mine.’ He felt you pulse around him, gripping him perfectly, his vibranium hand moved to your throat, your eyes snapped to his, for a split second he thought he had gone too far but the grip your pussy had on his length told him otherwise, between brutal thrusts he panted, ‘tell me you’re mine Bambi.’ ‘look at you, fucked you dumb sweetheart’ ‘can’t even speak, tell me, be my good girl.’ As his fingers gripped your throat tighter the pressure building was like nothing else, you were hurtling to a brain numbing orgasm but managed to moan out some form of answer, ‘yo… yours D..addy. fuck gonna cum.’

‘Cum on my cock darlin’, fuck gripping me so tight. My good girl.’

That’s all you needed to explode into heaven as he fucked up into you at super soldier speed, immediately releasing your throat when he painted your walls with his seed holding you tightly against him riding you both through your releases. 

It was in these moments holding your spaced out being against his where he held back the most, the whispered declarations of love into your ear didn’t feel enough to really show you how much he loved you, he wanted to run to the nearest chapel with you over his shoulder & marry you on the spot, anything else was not enough.

Being greeted by T’Challa, The Queen & Shuri was a moment you wouldn’t forget, they were so gracious & generous in their hospitality & the respect they treat your Super Solider with, as promised you had been filled by Bucky & were battling your pelvic floor the entire time to make sure nothing escaped after he had insisting on putting your underwear in his pocket. 

Everyone was so welcoming to you both & Shuri was an immediate ally, you held back from the rest of the group to walk with her as you made your way into the palace & expressed how grateful you were that she had helped Bucky, she knew about all about Gerald & wanted to show you her lab during your visit. She of course told you all the embarrassing tales when Bucky had his new arm fitted & how she loved being the bane of his life since & how he always spoke about you on their calls since he left. Bucky later told you more about his sister Rebecca & how Shuri felt akin to the little sister he missed so much, although he could do without all the sass she handed his way. 

Okoye lead a Dora Milaje demonstration, they were so majestic in their movements & you were enamoured by their power & skill, Bucky didn’t even dispute the fact that they would be able to take him down, you made him swear not to tell them about how you got shot, if it was possible to hero-worship someone as a grown adult Okoye was definitely it for you & you didn’t want her thinking of you as an idiot who shot herself air guitaring with a gun. 

After your welcome you were taken to the place Bucky was itching to go the most, the place where he felt most at peace before meeting you; his hut with his goats. The reunion was exactly what you were hoping for, his face lit up with sheer joy as they ran towards him, yes you cried & Shuri had to upgrade the storage on your phone you took so many videos & photos.

It was a privilege to witness Bucky in Wakanda, you hadn’t ever seen him as relaxed & care free, he said it was down to the shield protecting the entire country so there was no possibility of a Hydra threat, but you knew it was because he was at home here. He was the White Wolf, no one thought of him as a monster, they saw him for who he really was, a man capable of an unmatched determination to fight his programming, a strength to overcome the injustices against him for the greater good & a selfless humble gentleman. 

With the sun on his face & breeze through his hair, no missions, no fighting, just a stillness that he hadn’t ever had time for in his hundred years of living with the love of his live by his side, he was at peace. Bucky insisted on taking you to the lake for the first sunrise together, you both cried, such a cliché but it felt like a sign of something new, a new beginning for you both as the sun broke through the dawn, illuminating the African plains as far as the horizon, the haze reflecting from the water made you believe in the mirage of the desert, you hadn’t ever seen anything as beautiful.

He found the tranquillity by the lakeside opened him up to you far more than he had before, he told you about his family, his Ma who would have loved you dearly, details he had remembered & the parts Steve had filled in, his life before the war, the happiness of his youth but he also recalled the heart wrenching parts of his existence that tore you in two when he spoke of the horrors of what he really went through, but you listened, held him & let him speak. He always felt scared of telling people about his captivity, even the tiny parts he did share, but trusting you with his painful life was effortless, you didn’t just listen to him, you really heard what he was telling you. He wanted you to know the magnitude behind his words that he would go through it all again to be right where he was & as each memory was vocalised it was like the weight he was carrying left his soul.

He made sure to spend the first few days introducing you to all the people who had helped him during his de-programming, everyone seemed overjoyed at the progress he had made since he left especially at how enamoured he appeared to be with you. The most time was spent with the children who had given Bucky reason to get up in the mornings, they had all grown & enthused about how they used to help with his hair before he got his new arm after you asked about his infamous manbun. 

--

Bucky had been in the city all day having his arm recalibrated, you were under strict instructions to not attend so that some actual work could be done & Shuri wasn’t spending the entire time talking to you, you decided on staying at the hut the Wakandan’s had kept vacant long after its previous occupant had returned to the outside world. 

Despite the country being more technically advanced than anywhere beyond its borders the hut was a rural relic & completely isolated from the high-rise city you had first laid your eyes on when you arrived in the country. The hut stood at the bottom of a sprawling valley sitting beside a tranquil lake with not a single soul for miles, apart from the miniature goats roaming the land, the three-room home was all you needed.

You had spent the morning tidying then tending to the goats whilst trying to keep Burtie from constantly diving in the river, if Bucky asked you to retire here & raise your family you would in an instant, the silence & serenity was like nothing you had ever experienced.

The hotter you got the more you thought Burtie was onto something with the river, the water was so calm & inviting, you were re-assured by several locals that there were no swamp monsters or things that could eat you hiding in the depths. Knowing there was no one for miles you shed your clothes & began walking along the pier peering down into the water, it was crystal clear & still, you almost felt bad disturbing the serene setting, but you arched your back & dove in.

The crisp water was heaven, Burtie wasn’t far behind, diving in trying to swim to you frantically like you needed his help, you reassured him with calming head strokes & nose kisses that you were ok & it was enough for him to paddle away only to run up the bank & do the same thing over again. He was the other love of your life for sure, the number one contender though had returned & was watching from afar smiling to himself every time Burtie swam straight to you for some love & praise. Bucky started stripping the layers of his clothing as he stealthily moved towards the lake, silently entering the water,  you were startled suddenly by a splash, you whipped your head around trying to see where it came from assuming Burtie was up to no good but he was basking in the sun on the pier, you noticed the ripples in the surface of the water quickly approaching where you were stood, this was the swamp monster you were afraid of. Your breathing picked up as your heartbeat increased, frozen you awaited your fate only to be hoisted up out of the water on a very familiar pair of shoulders.

You half screamed half laughed ‘Buckkkkyy, aaaaah put me down.’

He somehow lifted you up & spun you around still on his shoulders & with your thighs wrapped around his head burying himself in your damp mound, mumbling ‘Still want me to put you down Bambi?’

Your fingers found themselves gripping onto his hair to steady yourself as his tongue found your clit, ‘Fuck, don’t stop.’ His strong hands held you upright as he continued his relentless sucking & lapping of your pussy, you could feel the pressure building as you held on to your Super Solider for dear life, he knew your body better than any man you had ever been with so could get you to orgasm effortlessly with his mouth, he knew exactly what you loved. 

He could feel you tensing, probably reluctant to relax on his shoulders enough to let go properly, he shifted his mouth, ‘Cum for me Bambi, you won’t fall, I got you.’

He tightened his grip on your back before he went straight back to work clamping his lips around your clit & sucking with everything he had, your body relaxed & let the growing climax rush over you exploding as you ground down on the mouth attached to your pussy, of course you were held steadily throughout & when Bucky could feel you completely spent he lowered you down & wrapped your legs around him so he could keep you both afloat.

‘Hi’

‘Hi.’

He kissed you so firmly you thought you’d bruise, you swiped your tongue across his mouth cleaning up the mess you’d made of it, you didn’t waste any time reaching down to feel his bare cock standing to attention under the surface, you wanted to sit straight on it but he held you tightly, so it was just out of reach. You practically whined when he stopped you the second time.

‘In a minute Bambi, not seen my sweet girl all day.’

‘How was your appointment?’

‘All shiny & new again, Shuri said hi.’

‘Missed you today.’

‘Missed you too honey.’

As you were held in his arms clutching to him like the Koala you were you mind drifted.

‘Bucky Bear, did you know there’s a kind of fish in the amazon that swims up men’s urethra’s?’

‘Shhhh Bambi, that’s enough smart words from you.’

His mouth was battling with you talking but you carried on. ‘it’s true though, I should have asked if they have them here too. You do realise a urethra is a man’s pee hole.’

His eyes widened & you were swiftly carried out of the lake, once you were both secure & demon fish free in your orifices he laid you on the side of the water, the soft grass cushioning your body as he lay over you.

The kisses being pressed against your drying skin were making you squirm with need, your hands moved down between your bodies to line him up with you, ‘need you in me.’

He wasted no time pushing into you, connecting your lips as he bottomed out, ‘can never say no to you Bambi.’

Bucky never felt like he needed to count his blessings with you, he knew how lucky he was that you put aside every bad thing he had done in his life & loved him all the same but being back in Wakanda showed him how far he had come since the day he left. It was all because of you & him wanting to be someone deserving of you, it was no coincidence, he met you as soon as he got back, it had all felt too soon to be free & be able to walk around after what he did but then you would drag him out of his self-inflicted isolation, get up to mischief & ring him to come rescue you. You always needed him & he always needed you to rescue him from himself. Why had he wasted so much time, as he continued to pump into you, he could feel the emotions stirring, bubbling & he was doing all he could to stay in that moment, you underneath him looking as ethereal & fucked out as ever.

‘Not gonna last honey, can feel you squeezing me.’

‘Cum with me Bucky.’

 His hips picked up speed & he drove your orgasm into overdrive, taking over every sense as it slammed into you, picking him up & taking him along the way as your cunt fluttered & pulsed around his cock.

He was basking in the afterglow, your heart rate was returning to its normal pace & your mind coming back to him, he loved these moments the most, holding you tightly to him seeing your hazy eyes gain some focus, then the second you look up at him it’s like the world is as it should be. 

You were both still quiet, hands caressing each other & kisses placed wherever your lips touched & he could see the gears in your head turning waiting for you to say whatever random thing popped into your head.

‘Hey Bucky’

‘Yes Bambi’

‘Would you rather be able to speak to animals or speak every language in the world?’

He couldn’t hold it in anymore, you lay in his arms so perfectly anticipating his answer to the ridiculous question & he wanted to thank every god ever worshipped that one of them sent an angel to earth for him, you couldn’t have come from anywhere else.

‘Marry me.’

You studied his eyes looking for any hint of deception, but all that reflected back was sincerity, love & devotion, you felt the tears clouding your vision from this hunk of a man so scowly & rough on the outside always managing to show you how soft he really was, you couldn’t care less that you’ve only just got together, people would think you’re nuts but when you know, you know. 

The smile spread on your face. ‘Yes’

He crashed his mouth into yours, he hadn’t ever felt as happy in his life & reached into his soggy sock to pull out a ring & you couldn’t help laughing.

‘How long has that been in there?’

‘I bought it the day after you told me you loved me, been carrying it round with me since.’

He slipped it on your left hand & you took a minute to admire the beautiful ring sitting on your finger, it looked like a 1920’s design, with a central diamond surrounded by rubies.

It took your breath away at how perfectly it sat on your finger, like it belonged there, ‘Vintage, like you.’

He poked your side & giggled along with you. ‘Definitely not Tony Stark approved. I asked him for permission but told him the ring was already bought.’

‘I love it so much, it’s perfect, you’re perfect.’

‘Not even close to perfect darlin’, but I promise you that I will try to be for you for the rest of our lives.’

--

To say Bucky’s Sea legs were shaky was an understatement, he was fine on Tonys yacht spending the days spread out on deck or spreading you out below deck, his jokes of ‘when the boat is a rocking…’ made him giggle each time as you rolled your eyes at his total dad joke. Three weeks in Wakanda flew by & you reluctantly left with the promises of returning as soon as you could, neither of you wanted to leave but the yacht & whale watching trip had been planned especially for you so cancelling wasn’t an option.

The morning boat trip to the Sea of Cortez had been choppy, Bucky had a few bouts of nausea but you were just bouncing off the deck with excitement, seeing a real life whale had been your dream as long as you remembered. The bay was stunning, the turquoise blue of the crystal-clear ocean reminded you so much of your beloved Super Soldier’s eyes, the early morning sun was bouncing off the surface & beneath a rich abundance of life, the fishes mesmerised you as they moved in perfect harmony darting along the sea floor.

Towards the horizon you saw the first breach, it was breath-taking & you screamed for Bucky to come & watch, you wanted to share this memory with him, to remember such a monumental day with the love of your life. Having seen the whale’s, the captain turned on the engine to get closer to the action, you were buzzing in excitement as you headed towards them.

It wasn’t long before a humongous humpback whale breached right at the side of the boat, you couldn’t breathe as it crashed back into the water shaking the vessel you were clinging to, you realised Bucky was probably right about you demanding a blue whale as a pet, it definitely wouldn’t fit in the pool back at the tower.

You were startled when one of the whales surfaced right next to you, its exhale through it’s blow hole hit you right in your face & the stench made you want to throw up, rude. After a few moments catching its breath, it disappeared down & then under the boat, your eyes widened & Bucky noticed your pulse sky rocketing.

You turned to him, he was expecting a beaming smile but you looked terrified ‘I think we should go home now, I miss Burtie.’

‘We just got here Bambi, why?’

‘I told ya, miss our baby, please can we go?’ you tugged on his arm & he could see the panic overtaking your face, as he turned away to speak to the captain you clung to him.

‘Just gonna tell the Captain honey. You stay here, ok?’

Your eyes were fixed on the ocean but your reluctantly nodded & let go of his arm. The journey back was tense, Bucky knew something had happened, but he didn’t want to push you when you were still looking so terrified & stuck on a boat, he waited until you were back at your hotel to get to the bottom of what happened.

You were busy packing the cases, throwing in anything you could find to finish & get out of there as soon as possible, you could see him watching you from the corner of your eye, you contemplated getting down on your knees to avoid talking about it but today wasn’t your day, ‘You gonna tell me what happened back there honey?’ he leaned on the door frame with his arms crossed failing to look as stern as possible.

‘Bucky, I don’t want to talk about it ok, just leave it.’ He hadn’t ever experienced you speaking to him like that, maybe he should have left it alone, but it broke his heart that you weren’t comfortable telling him something.

‘No Bambi, we don’t keep things from each other so please tell me what’s wrong.’ He sounded so hurt that you wouldn’t tell him which only made your guilt feel so much worse about this entire trip.

‘No … you’ll just make fun of me.’ You shook your head hoping he would drop it so you wouldn’t have to say it out loud.

‘No, I won’t.’ 

‘Yeah, you will, all the guys always do.’

‘I’m not one of them, when I have ever made fun of you?’

You took a second to think, even when you told him about how you got shot he only kissed it better & yes might have checked the safety was on with every gun you were near but being safe is a good thing … ‘Never.’

‘Exactly so can my future wife please tell me why we left so soon when it was such a big dream of yours to see a whale in the wild.’ He had slowly made his way towards you & held your face in his so you would look in his eyes.

You paused, you felt silly keeping it from him, he might even tell everyone what happened then you would never hear the end of it until Natasha had interrogated you for the truth, you let out a deep sigh, ‘The whale, it went under the boat & I freaked out thinking it would surface underneath us & we’d be stranded on its back & I was scared, ok?’

He rested his head against yours, he hated that you were scared & didn’t tell him ‘Bambi, I would never ever let anything happen to you.’

‘I know but there’s some things you can’t stop happening, a giant whale is one. If you think about it, it could just swallow us whole. We’d be trapped in its mouth; I don’t want to die in a Whale’s mouth even if you’re there with me.’

‘I’d punch it, give it an uppercut. Wouldn’t stand a chance sweetheart.’

You giggled at how ridiculous he was being, he wrapped you in his big arms & looked down on you like you loved. ‘I never ever want you to be scared of anything when you’re with me, if you are I’ve not done my job right.’

‘You can’t protect me from everything.’

‘Just watch me.’

--

It took 6 whole months before Tony agreed to you having another vacation, you were on the brink of doing something to get you both suspended before he caved & gave you the keys to his log cabin. Turns out log cabins weren’t really your thing, yes, the aesthetic was Pinterest perfect, the way the rich green leafed trees overhung the solid wood abode with mist surrounding the bark driveway almost ironically like someone had desaturated your eyeballs to look at it all murky & mysterious. 

It was just so boring, no tv, yes, all the fucking one could muster & you both were practically chaffed at this point but a hike? Yeah, that didn’t end well, falling on a flat surface is a regular occurrence so why a trail with slippery rocks was a sparkling idea of Bucky’s you’ll never know, tumbling down a cliffside hurts as much as you think it will. Yes, you had your beefy super solider scrambling after you to rescue you or more accurately pull you out of the mud at the bottom of the cliff then carry you back & patch you up but it still sucked. Plus, it was cold & damp & unless Bucky was wrapped around you, your teeth were in a permanent state of chattering. 

The yacht was a sun kissed distant memory at this point, you had proposed the idea of zipping yourself in Bucky’s hoodie & slipping your legs down the front of his joggers so you could steal his warmth, but he insisted the height difference was the sticking factor of the plan, instead he decided to light the fire & lay you down on the plush rug that sat in front of the hearth.

‘Always wanted to do this darlin’, lay you out & kiss every inch of your skin.’

You were already desperate for him as he started pressing his lips on your shoulder moving across your décolletage, savouring the places that he knew drove you wild evidenced with how you body bucked up as soon as his tongue lapped your skin. You could feel every smile your reactions pulled from him against your hot tingling skin, the fierceness from the fire pricked at you but every ember of warmth within you was systematically being delivered by the super solider dedicating himself to your pleasure.

You were writhing, dripping & begging him to kiss you were you needed by the time he reached your hip, you hands wandered so many times he had to hold them down berating you for being a bad girl. You were ready to call him daddy, sir, his lordship at this point to get him to co-operate, ‘Daddy, please it hurts.’

‘Where does it hurt sweetheart.’

‘My pussy, need you to kiss it better.’

Hmmm is that right.

‘Yeah, please I’ll do anything.’

‘Anything?’

‘Yes.’

The thoughts were flooding to his head, you’d agreed to marry him already, probably was too soon for a baby but the thought was driving him wild, to have you carrying his child but he wouldn’t ever take advantage of your desperation like that. 

He moved his lips south, at a faster pace than he had been going up til now & met your dripping cunt, he could never say no to you.

‘Gonna wish you’d not asked honey, you’ll be begging me to stop.’

You were by the fourth orgasm, he swore you had squirted you insisted you probably peed on him a little & it was his own fault for not letting you go but here he was still not releasing you from his grasp as he tried to coax another climax from your swollen overstimulated cunt.

‘I know you’ve got another Bambi, can feel it.’

‘Please just fuck me Sir, please Sargent.’

‘Oh, I will be, but I need another from you, you gonna be my good girl.’

His lips clamped around your clit & his fingers returned to your sweet spot & somehow again you could feel another orgasm ripping through you, ‘yes, yes, yes.’ Your body spasmed, twitched & convulsed around his mouth as your mind entered another realm, you sensed he had finally released your arms & you lay there waiting for him to fill you like only he could. 

‘On all fours.’ The sternness of his deep commanding voice thrilled you into moving, your arms & legs were like jello & Bucky helped move your limbs, you were face down unable to see him as he marvelled at the sight in front of him, your swollen cunt was on display perfectly awaiting him, running his aching cock along your dripping pussy had you jerking forward, tremoring from the anticipation. He gripped onto your hips & pulled you back plunging his cock into your tight warm cunt, ‘fuck, such a good girl for me aren’t you Bambi.’

‘Yes sir, fuck me harder.’

‘What do you say?’

‘Pl..please daddy, pound me.’

He almost came at you so sweetly begging but he held on to speed his hips, if his girl wanted a pounding, she would get one, he let go fully, he’d fucked you hard before but this position & angle he was slamming his hips into yours.

You lost the use of words from the sheer force bucky was using, he wrapped your hair around his hand & pulled you up to him, so your back was against his chest.

‘You like it rough don’t you my sweet girl, can feel you squeezing me. You gonna make a mess on my cock? Touch yourself, show me what a filthy girl you are.’

You connected your fingers to your clit, somehow keeping a rhythm with Bucky’s stuttering hips, even both on your knees he towered over you giving him the perfect view over your shoulder of your tits bouncing at every thrust & your hand between your legs rubbing yourself exactly like he told you, such a good girl.

‘Gonna cum.’

‘Hold on sweet girl.’ He gripped you tight & pounded into you brutally, once, twice, three times, somehow deeper each time, you were squeezing his cock with everything you had as you tried to stave off your climax, Bucky practically spluttered out ‘cum for me Bambi.’ Once the wave of his climax hit him pulling you with him, he felt your body crumple as he released into you laying you both down as his hips continued to pump you full of him until every drop was spent.

After you had both led by the fire whispering ‘I love you’s’ to each other, Bucky reluctantly made his way to the kitchen to get you both something to eat, you were lost in thought when he re-joined you on the floor mimicking the way you were led.

‘Bucky Bear?’

‘Yes Bambi?’

‘Did you know some turtles tickle each other’s faces when they’re mating?’

You looked so shy saying it, he really felt like the luckiest guy on the planet, ‘Do you want me to tickle your face Doll?’ he couldn’t help poking your side to tickle you as the thoughts he was having earlier swirled in his head. 

You shrugged your shoulders being so damn irresistible laying on your front, bottom in the air legs crossed swinging ‘maybe’.

He rolled onto you, swarming you, engulfing you entirely with his body as he leaned on his elbows & gently tickled your face kissing down your neck from above as he pressed you into the rug, your laugh filling him to the brim. How can such a gorgeous nerdy idiot like you let a big brutish shell of a man into your heart? 

--

The Brooklyn brownstone was finally ready, it took every ounce of Bucky’s assassin training to keep it a secret, it took months of renovations to get the place to the standard he insisted your home should be, he stopped short of adding an elevator at Tony’s incessant taunting that you still had all four limbs so an elevator in a three-floor home was a bit OTT even for the eccentric billionaire. So far Bucky had kept his promise about taking care of you & giving you the life you deserved, Tony was actually impressed at the level of detail he insisted on & the purpose it gave the old man, as expected you were oblivious & just going along with whatever plan was in place to distract you whilst he attended to whichever house crisis occurred that day.

You had been searching for a house together having been very rudely evicted from the Tower after the whole control room incident; did you know when Bucky had you bent over the control desk that your tits had pressed the broadcast button?, no. Did the whole tower hear you calling Bucky ‘Daddy’ & that you requested him to ‘fuck me dumb’?, perhaps. Did it warrant the meeting where every ‘indiscretion’ you had committed was laid bare so to speak with HR?, probably. But being caught 27 times wasn’t a valid reason for the eviction you argued, no one was really in the tower to hear the broadcast & yes, a few buttons may have been damaged when you rode him on the desk, but no one actually saw anything. You retreated to your apartment with your tails between your legs once they brought up the security footage, apparently arming weapons that could cause significant damage was a no no. Prudes. 

It was an easy decision for Bucky to move into your place, he hated his grey miserable apartment & the idea of spending nights alone having been inseparable from you for months filled him with dread, he was sure he was outstaying his welcome when you mentioned his apartment a couple of times in passing. You were so sad when he announced he was going back to his place, waking up every day in his arms was your new norm & the idea of going without didn’t fly with you, so you gently suggested there was no need for you both to have apartments & that he should just move in with you, he wrapped you in his arms so incredibly tight with sheer relief that you swore he broke a rib.

He had planned the surprise meticulously, every event in your relationship thus far had been spontaneous, the declarations of feelings, physical exchanges, his proposal & although buying the house next door to Ms Alice was a frantic split-second decision having committed to buying it on the spot then subsequently having to beg Tony to give him the money, the rest he needed to be planned, intentional, as serious as he was about you. 

When Bucky suggested an afternoon in Brooklyn you jumped at the chance, he had been so busy recently with missions here, there & everywhere, you were one mission away from putting a suggestion in the suggestion box about people learning more languages so that Bucky could have a break, not that they took on board your suggestion for the suggestion box. Spending a day in the bustling streets snuggled up to your Super Solider was perfect, you had lunch in your favourite restaurant, played some footsie under the table, had a walk along the river, fucked in an alleyway, your favourite alleyway & then he slowly guided you to where you bought your puppy.

He was suddenly overcome by nerves, what if this was too much, he knew you liked being taken care of but was this too controlling? He felt the panic rise suddenly as you were questioning why you were here, then getting excited that Burtie was getting a little brother. He snapped himself out of his panic before he had to break your heart about not getting another puppy, any longer you would have named it & envisaged your lives together with another dog.

‘No honey, Burtie isn’t getting a little brother just yet.’

‘Oh.’ The disappointment in your voice was palpable & still managed to break his heart, he would just arrange with Ms Alice in the morning to reserve a puppy from the next litter.

‘Well we’ve been looking for a bigger place for some time & I heard one has come onto the market.’

You gasped, ‘Ms Alices?’ 

God damn it, this wasn’t going to plan, Bucky now had to disappoint you again.

He shook his head sorrowfully, ‘No honey,’

‘Oh.’ There it was again, fuck, Bucky you are such a fuck up.

‘Come with me Bambi.’

He grabbed your hand & led you up the stone steps to the house next door to Ms Alice, the keys were already in his palm as you reached the top.

The pastel blue door opened to a foyer of subway tiles & an intricate mosaic floor tile, as you looked up a further door stood with half stained glass & dark cherry wood, a console table was waiting for the keys to be deposited & brass hooks for your jackets were lined up perfectly on the dark blue wall.

You gasped as you looked to your left to see a mid-century lounge, filled with plants, warm hues & a beautiful original fireplace, the room was open plan into the next space which had the biggest walnut dining table sat on top of a beautiful Persian rug, the floors were original herringbone & you couldn’t even digest the stunning pastel kitchen that was wrapped around the back of the house complete with crittall doors to the patio & the garden beyond.

You hadn’t said a word as you drifted from one room to another in a trance at how perfect the place was, you hadn’t even seen the upper levels, you would sleep down here if they were a disaster, you definitely wouldn’t be able to afford it. 

‘It’s ours.’ Bucky shyly whispered, all excitement had been drained from him from your silence, you always talked, always. This wasn’t a good sign & he couldn’t help himself but fill the silence, ‘Sorry if you’re disappointed, if you want anything changing let me know or we can just find something else. Fuck, I should have asked you what you wanted, I just looked at your pinboard page & went from there but why didn’t I think you would want to pick everything? Tony said you would enjoy decorating but I said you’d get overwhelmed & hide in Gerald’s closet house & get him to keep fetching you coffees until you were buzzed enough to pick, I didn’t want your heart going through all the additional stress, you’re not a Super Solider like me & I need to keep you with me until I die, you can’t die first. We’ll just go back to your place & rethink, it’s fine.

You were speechless, you should have stopped him rambling & you felt so bad that you couldn’t vocalise how you were feeling, how overwhelmed you were that this hunk of a man was really yours & had spent time making the home of your dreams.

You turned to him, ‘This is what you’ve been doing & not going on missions?’

‘Yeah Doll, look I know I lied & I swear I haven’t ever lied about anything else to you ever, I mean that, cross my heart.’

‘& you did all this by yourself?’

‘Well Tony helped with the financing & pointing me in the direction of your pinboard thing & where to find people to do things.’ He shrugged, completely dismissing his efforts to protect himself for the disappointment he was about to face.

‘Pinterest.’

‘Yeah that.’

‘Well, you know me better than Tony because I wouldn’t have been able to do all this.’

At least he held some pride in knowing you better than Tony, but he still didn’t know if you liked it, the suspense was eating at him.

‘Like I said we can look for something else or change anything.’

You shook your head, ‘Bucky it’s perfect. You’re perfect. Fuck, how did I get so lucky having you to look after me like this? This is our home? For real? Am I dreaming?’

‘It’s ours.’ This time it came out stronger, you could hear the pride in his voice & the smile that was now carved on his face.

‘Show me the rest.’

‘Well, there’s the basement I figured could be a place for you to work, I thought I’d leave you & Tony to do that space, the top floor has three bedrooms all with their own bathroom, the second floor has our bedroom, walk in closet & bathroom, a guest room, then there’s this little room next to ours, not big enough for a bedroom, maybe an office but I’ve not touched it yet. What do you think we should do with it Bambi?’

Life in your home you shared with Bucky was good, to have met someone who entertained every wild idea & joined you with as much enthusiasm as you did was a concept you wouldn’t ever get used to, even when you thought back to being friends he was always the same. Whether it was the time he drove you to Niagra Falls because you didn’t believe it could possibly freeze despite seeing a live feed & Bucky explaining that no, the feed hadn’t frozen it wasn’t moving because the waterfall was actually frozen or when you insisted he join you looking for bigfoot in Virginia after you watched a YouTube video & convinced yourself you solved where to find one, he didn’t even get mad when you ended up getting lost & calling for Tony to rescue you both.

You looked at the home he had created, it was your peaceful place, over time the details had been updated, trinkets added, photos scattered the side tables of you & your Super Solider in various stages of foreplay caught on camera at functions you had attended which had become a running joke, including the one of you emerging from a cleaning closet that Nat had stood guard in front of when you told her you were trying for a baby. Next to you sat your favourite, the photo you begged Bucky to take with you & your now fully grown dog stood next to the notches on the door frame with a height chart of Burtie’s growth carved with Bucky’s knife, you somehow got Bucky to wear a shirt & trousers to match your dress, you were tempted to buy some pearls & Bucky a sweater vest to make it as cookie cutter & wholesome as humanly possible but didn’t want to push your luck.

You should be ashamed of your camera roll at this point holding so many pictures of them both, but the real life image of them both asleep wrapping themselves around you & your growing belly was an picture you wouldn’t ever forget. Life was pretty perfect. 

AN:

Thanks so much for reading & the support you've all given me, I've loved writing this & I have a couple of requests lined up which I'll do some one shots or drabble's on. Your feedback has also been amazing so let me know what you thought of their ending!!

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this had me kickin my feet n shi

Same Lonely Night

summary: Your roommate Bucky Barnes hears you pleasure yourself and moan something he never thought he would be into. That forces him to face his feelings for you.

pairing: Bucky Barnes x Female Reader

word count: 2.6K

warnings: 18+, masturbation, fantasies, daddy kink, no mention of y/n

A/N: This is the second part of A Lonely Night. This time we are seeing Bucky's POV and what comes next. You don't have to read that part to understand what's going on but if you want to, you can find it on my blog/masterlist. I planned this as a 3-part story and I hope I'll maintain my inspiration and motivation to write the last part. Wish me luck!

Thank you so much @notafunkiller for beta-reading and editing. You are the best!

All work is mine, please do not repost or translate without my permission.

Read more tag starts after the second paragraph of the story.

Bucky’s head is resting on the shower wall while the water is running down. His flesh hand is still wrapped around his cock, but he doesn’t move it. Taking a couple of deep breaths, he’s trying to calm himself down. 

He really had no intention to listen to you. He was just watching the news mindlessly, but his enhanced hearing turned into a curse the moment he heard you taking a sharp breath. He couldn’t help but focus on the noises you made. That’s when he started to hear the way you were touching yourself. Every stroke, every rub, every muffled moan… 

He knew what you were doing was private and he had no right listening to it, but he couldn’t stop. He just couldn’t. How could he? You were so needy and subby. Even in your fantasy, you were begging. He wondered what you were imagining. Who were you begging? Your crush? Maybe you have been seeing someone.

That thought had never occurred to him before. You were always in your element, working, chilling at home, doing whatever you enjoyed in your spare time, and occasionally going out with your friends. You never brought someone home. Not yet at least. So he never questioned if you were seeing someone or not. Even if there was someone, he wouldn’t know, and that thought suddenly hurts him.

“Oh fuck, oh fuck.” Your moans bring him back to reality. If you are seeing someone why are you so needy? Are you just that greedy or has it been that long? He’s certainly hoping for the latter. That’s something he can relate to, and it's probably been much longer for him. That’s why he can’t stop listening. That’s why his cock is painfully hard. Normally he would just remove himself from the house, and give you some space instead of creeping like this.

“Oh please, fuck me.” He would do anything to be able to do that. Anything. Just to be in that room with you, taking his time exploring your body and satisfying your needs. Even just the thought of it drives him crazy. “Fuck me, daddy, please.” 

That surprises him on so many levels. He never thought you would be into that. You look pretty innocent. He wouldn’t assume you would have such dirty fantasies. Fucking an old man… Are you into older men or is it just a little fantasy you are playing? Maybe you are seeing someone old. Maybe that’s why your mind goes there. He doesn’t know. He has no idea what’s going on in your private life, and every word that comes out of your mouth confuses him even more. It creates more problems, but the biggest one is, when he heard daddy, his dick twitched with excitement. So it makes him question himself, too. Is he into younger women or is it because you were the one saying it? The latter somehow seems more likely. Yet all of that doesn’t change the fact that he’s listening to you and getting hard just because of it. 

“Yes, yes, yes. Right there.” He hears how your head falls onto the pillow while your whole body is shaking, and how much you are enjoying it. He knows this is his cue. He should just remove himself from the living room so he won’t get caught with a hard-on. He doesn’t miss a beat. Quickly, he turns the TV off and runs to the bathroom. 

That’s how he ended up here, head pressed against the cold shower tiles, thinking about the way you said daddy over and over again. He is trying really hard not to give in, but his cock is aching with need. A part of him thinks he should just give in. It’s not such a big deal. Everyone masturbates. You just did. Three fucking times! That thought makes him groan. If you can come three times just by masturbating,how many times could he make you come? 

So it’s not even a conscious decision when he starts to stroke himself when he starts thinking about making you come. He can’t stop himself from imagining how you would look under him or on top of him. It doesn’t matter which position. He just wants to feel you. Your moans are echoing in his head while he caresses the top of cock. Just one stroke and it makes him tremble. He can’t remember the last time he felt this turned on. He can’t remember the last time his whole body heated up like this, just at the thought of someone. But you aren’t just anybody. You are you.

Maybe it’s because it has been ages since he had sex. Perhaps it’s because of his growing crush on you. He tried to control those feelings, thinking he was too old for you. He thought you would never look in his direction. Why would you? You are intelligent, beautiful and so cute. Like all these qualities aren’t enough, you are always so thoughtful. You always ask if he wants your leftovers, or if he needs help with anything. He knows he wakes you up at night sometimes. His nightmares are loud, but you never complained. Not once. You always let him watch the news even though you would rather watch something else. You even lent some books to him. They were in such good condition he couldn't believe his eyes. It was like reading a brand-new book. So yeah, he really tried to act like it was nothing but a silly crush, but after hearing the way you moan daddy he can’t stop himself anymore. It was as if you awakened something inside him.

He doesn’t know what to do. Should he take his time or just get over with it? He keeps his fingers loose, stroking himself up and down slowly while his head still rests on the tiles. Even with minimal effort, it feels so good. He gently cups his balls, massaging them and imagining you are the one doing it. You are the one touching the most intimate parts of his body. You are the one ready to satisfy his growing need.

“Oh fuck.” A moan escapes his lips. The shower is running and you don’t have a super hearing like him, so he knows he’s safe. Still, it feels like it’s something he shouldn’t be doing. He shouldn’t be touching himself. He shouldn’t be moaning like this, yet you are so beautiful and needy… He already wanted you before hearing how you sound in bed, but now he wants you even more. He wants to be the one to bring you pleasure. He wants to be the one that satisfies all your needs so much that you would never need to touch yourself. Unless it’s to tease him.

He’s feeling guilty. So fucking guilty, but there’s no way he could stop now. Imagining you does something to him. There’s this primal need in his abdomen, building up.

His fingers tighten around his cock, moving faster than before, and he presses his lips together, trying not to make a sound. He keeps rubbing on that one sensitive part of his cock and finally, he starts coming with a choke. He keeps stroking himself, thinking it will be over soon, but it doesn’t end. There’s so much come that it surprises him. His hands continue pumping and his come paints the bathroom tiles immediately. He takes a deep breath when he’s done, trying to collect himself.

It feels like his head is spinning. He had been masturbating for quite some time, but he doesn’t remember the last time it felt this good. He opens his eyes, trying to ground himself, and all that shame he feels comes rushing in while looking at the mess he made. He groans loudly and then reaches for the showerhead. It doesn’t take long for him to clean the shower and then himself with the thought of you is still on the back of his mind. He is soaping himself, scrubbing, and then rinsing while trying to convince himself that it isn’t a big deal. It’s just masturbation. It’s normal.

Of course, he knows how normal it is. It’s like breathing, eating, or drinking water. His body needs it so he gave in, but listening to you and touching himself while thinking about you… That’s where he crossed the line. He knows it, yet he can’t bring himself to wish he never heard you. He might be a creep or a pervert, it doesn’t matter. Your voice, the way you sound while coming, and the way you touch yourself are stacked in his memory forever. It’s something no one can take away from him.

Sighing, he steps out of the shower. Drying himself doesn’t take too long. When he steps into the living room, all that welcomes him is silence. You are still in your bedroom, God knows doing what. The TV is off, and nothing seems to have moved since he ran to the bathroom. So he’s safe. You haven’t heard or suspected anything.

Quietly, he goes back to his room, finds something to put on and just looks in the mirror. Is he really too old for you or is that all in his mind? He doesn’t look older than 35, but that doesn’t change when he was born.

What if you are into that, though? What if you really like older guys? That would change everything, wouldn’t it? You would like that he’s older than you. Maybe you would even call him daddy, just like you did in your fantasy. That thought makes the blood rush back to his cock, making him feel the arousal running through his veins once again. Like he didn’t masturbate in the shower a couple of minutes ago. 

He knows his anatomy by now. He knows he’s able to get hard again pretty quickly thanks to the super soldier serum, but he hasn’t been this horny for a long time. Especially not because of the thought of someone, but the thought of you calling him daddy… 

Jesus… It makes him so hard!

Sighing, he drops his whole weight on the bed and closes his eyes, fighting the urge to touch himself again. It’s for the best if he stops thinking about you and focuses on something else, isn’t it? He tries to think of something, anything that could take his mind off of you, but nothing, absolutely nothing is more interesting. Nothing he tries to focus on lasts. His mind goes running back to you, imagining how you would look the moment he would push himself inside you. How your mouth would open, how you would throw your head back, and how wonderful it would feel.

That thought does it. It breaks his resistance. All the effort he put into not touching himself again goes out of the window, especially once he imagines you saying “Harder, please, daddy, I need it harder.” His hand goes under his boxers, slowly toying with his cock. It feels like he didn’t touch himself today, and the need is even stronger now. After a couple of strokes, he realizes he can’t move his hand properly like this, so he pushes down his shorts and boxers at the same, creating some space for movement. 

He looks down at his cock, already oozing with precum. His flesh hand moves on top of the head and smears it all the way down, making it easier for him to play with himself. He sets a steady rhythm, testing what feels right, but his precum isn’t enough to make it enjoyable. That’s when he reaches for his nightstand and takes out the bottle of lube. His metal hand works fast, opening the bottle and putting a generous amount on hisnhand, before he puts it back and starts to touch himself. 

Now it feels much better. His hand works seamlessly from the top to the bottom, repeating the same movement a couple of times. He tries to get lost in his fantasies but something feels off. He isn’t sure what it is because what he’s doing is enjoyable. Something is not enough. Maybe he should work faster. So that’s what he tries. His hand starts to move faster on his cock, but that’s not helping. 

He’s pretty sure this is what his body wants especially because he’s still rock hard. Should he be more gentle and take his sweet time? That doesn’t seem to work, either. Does he need a tighter grip? Maybe, but he can’t do more with his flesh hand. He glances at his metal hand for the first time since he started. He never used it to pleasure himself before. The flesh looked and seemed more appealing than metal, yet right now it’s not enough.

There’s a first time for everything.

He reaches for the lube once again. This time he uses his flesh hand and pours some on his metal one as he tries to convince himself that this is not a bad idea.

He goes right back into touching himself, just with his metal hand this time. It feels different, really different, and surprisingly okay. It doesn’t feel as warm. The texture is completely different yet it somehow works. His fingers start to work faster, his thumb brushing over the head and, thanks to the lube, it starts to feel much better than he ever expected. His reluctance slowly fades away and he decides to test how fast he can move his metal hand and how much his cock can actually take it. As he paces up, pleasure starts to build so unexpectedly. He takes a deep breath but keeps moving his hand. His head is now thrown back while with the flesh hand, he cups his balls, gently massaging them.

“Oh god…”

He doesn’t realize that he's just said that out loud. He just keeps working on himself, letting his whole body relax under that pleasure. He really didn’t intend to focus on you this time, but here you are again, in his mind. The image of you on top of him… You with all your charm and cuteness, touching him, making him feel this good while he takes your nipples into his mouth and sucks them until you can’t take it anymore. It drives you crazy, so you beg him to fuck you. Just like you begged while touching yourself.

“Please, please, please… I really need it, please…”

He can hear it so clearly like you are here and really begging him. There’s nothing he wouldn’t do to make that really happen.

“Anything you want, doll.”

His fingers move like they have a mind of their own. He knows he should slow down a little, make this one last a bit longer because it feels amazing, but his metal hand isn’t listening to him.

“Oh fuck, fuck.” 

He knows he’s about to come. He can feel it. It’s right there, just a few strokes away. He loses his damn mind imagining you under him, split open, and getting railed by him. God, that would feel so fucking good! You looking at him with those big beautiful eyes and begging him for more… Then your name slips out of his lips like it’s the most natural thing to say at that moment. 

Right when he’s about to come, a loud noise comes from the living room. Like something has just got shattered into pieces. His eyes fly open. He grabs his shorts and puts them on quickly, tucking his freaking erection away, and opens his door to see you standing there with an oversized T-shirt on. The glass you were probably holding is on the ground, but you don’t seem to care about that. You are looking at him with wide eyes and an open mouth.

Shit! She heard me.

acquainted | b.b

pairing: bucky barnes x reader (based on tfatws)

summary: in which you and bucky don’t like each other very much, not until one afternoon when you two finally decided to get acquainted. (enemies to lovers)

word count: 3.5k

warnings: nsfw, 18+, oral (m receiving), loads of teasing, unprotected sex, bucky making you beg for it, cocky!bucky, 

a/n: hello! i am back with another bucky fic because i love him so much, he owns my heart and i absolutely love writing for him! i hope you enjoy this lovelies!

requests are open!

thank you so much for reading love! please like and reblog!

Nine in the morning saw you padding down the hallways of the apartment, sighing as you glanced over to the coffee table, last night’s drinks were still stacked on the wooden table, meaning that he had probably stayed over.

Again.

You made your way to the kitchen, the smell of freshly made pancakes wafted through the air, making your mouth water, your stomach grumbling in anticipation as you walked in, not surprised to see Sam at the stove, pouring the batter into the pan.

“Morning sunshine” he greets with an award-winning smile as he turns to you, a grin on his face as he stacks the pancakes one on top of the other.

“Morning Chef” you joke, not being able to stop yourself from laughing with the man standing before you who had donned an Elsa apron which you vaguely remember the neighbour had given him.

“Shut up” Sam grumbled as you doubled over in laughter, clapping your hands as the peals seemed they would not stop anytime soon.

“You can just let it go” you said in a sing song voice, giggling when your best friend shot you a death glare as you mimicked the famous princess, much to his annoyance.

“That’s it, you’re not getting any pancakes”.

“Come on Sam, it was a joke” you protested as he feigned anger, his arms akimbo, the Elsa apron looking a little too small on his frame, you stifled your giggles as you pouted, giving him your infamous puppy dog eyes.

Eyes that you knew Sam could never say no to.

“No,”

“Please, I’ll do anything” that was partially true because Sam’s pancakes were to die for, literally, especially the chocolate flavoured ones.

“Anything?” Sam questioned, and you nodded confidently, knowing that the worse that could happen was you having dishwashing duties for a week.

“Bucky’s staying over for a few days-“

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