Chapter Text
Bucky literally just entered the room.
“You have some nerve showing up here,” you say sharply. You don’t even turn around to look at him, giving him the cold shoulder.
“What.”
“After what you did to me. You sick son of a bitch.”
Well, this isn’t good.
“What? Baby?” There is just a hint of fear in Bucky’s voice.
“How could you?”
“What did I do?” He feels the urge to weep. “Baby, I’m so sorry. What did I do? Don’t leave me. We can work through this.”
“Of course. Now you’re here, begging for my forgiveness. Well, guess what, pretty boy.”
“I swear I don’t know what happened to Bones-Bones. I didn’t even touch him.”
“There will be hell to pay.”
“Okay, you’re right. I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to break him. It was an accident, you’ve got to believe me.” Bucky begs for you to understand. But you keep your back to him, stoic and unforgiving like a god deciding on a punishment for the sinner in front of her throne.
“Get down on your knees.”
Bucky obliges. He winces and fights back a groan when his joints pop loudly on his way down. Yoga doesn't help shit. His knees feel like they might never be the same. But deep inside, he knows he deserves it.
Bones-Bones was your favorite full-boned skeleton. You kept him in the bedroom. Whenever Bucky came in there, Bones-Bones greeted him in a bowtie and a tophat, hands lifted in permanent finger guns. The bones even glowed in the dark. Bucky thought it was a bit morbid, but you liked it, so it stayed.
Until today when Bucky was fucking around waiting for you in the bedroom and decided to try on the skeleton’s top hat. For some unexplainable reason, the top hat turned out to be the thing holding Bones-Bones together. All 206 of its bones tumbled down like a Jenga tower. The teeth scattered everywhere.
Bucky had stood there, blinking slowly, his hands still outstretched and holding the cursed tophat.
And then he ran.
And just his luck, he ran right straight to the room you were in.
But this just happened. So how do you know already? This is some sixth-sense bullshit.
But Bucky knows - your anger is justified.
“You’re going to make it up to me. Right now.” You say slowly through clenched teeth.
Bucky has to hold back a pathetic whimper. “Whatever you want, baby. I’d die for you. I’d kill for you. My body is yours. Do with it as you please. Order me. There is nothing I wouldn’t give you.”
“I’m going to make sure you never disrespect me like that ever again.”
“Just say the word. I’m yours.”
“Now come here and own this pussy.”
What?
“What?” he squeaks.
What sort of punishment is this? If you wanted some extra attention, all you had to do was ask. He was more than willing. In fact, that is why he was waiting in the bedroom in the first place.
“You heard me. You want my forgiveness, fool? You’re going to have to work for it.”
Alright. If that’s what it takes.
You still have your back to him, but he can work with that. His fingers know how to make you feel good, he doesn’t have to look.
He crawls to you on his hands and knees. Quietly. There’s something sacred about this. Working for your forgiveness. Repenting for his sins.
Once he’s behind you, he reaches for your thighs. As he pulls up the hem of your dress, his fingers lightly brush against your soft skin.
The touch makes you shriek and jump approximately 10 feet in the chair.
“Aaaaahhh! Oh, hey, Bucky. What’s up? Didn’t see you,” you try to act nonchalant, but your chest is rising rapidly from the scare. You're also slightly flushed and breathless.
You take out the tiny earbuds from your ears and turn your attention to your boyfriend, the love of your life, future baby daddy, etc, etc.
“Scared me good. Sneaking up on me like that. Like a spy. Like James Bond. Wait, James -,” you light up in realization. You mimic cocking a gun with your hands and say in the lowest voice you can muster, “My name is Bucky-Barnes. James Bucky Barnes. Dun, dun, dun, dun, dun, dun, dun, dun!”
Even discounting James Bond's theme song, Bucky is proper confused. You don’t even look mad at him anymore. The emotional whiplash is unreal.
Then Bucky sees the screen in front of you. There are half-naked actors, looking quite similar to your public Avenger personas. The man even has a fake metal arm. Bucky doesn’t know whether or not he should be insulted by that.
“Baby,” he drawls out, realization slowly sinking in. His smile is all teeth now. “What are you doing.”
It’s your turn now to look bashful. It’s quite adorable. The tops of your ears are pink. Bucky’s impossibly in love.
“There’s this thing going around the internet. Of us. And other Avengers. Sort of. It’s become quite popular. Iconic, even.”
“It’s a porn parody, isn’t it.”
“Yeah.”
“Of us?”
“Uh-uh. ‘Winter Soldier eats puss like a champ ft. Badass Bae’ - that would be me. They’re not that far off, actually.”
That piques Bucky’s attention.
“Is it good?”
You pat his thigh affectionately. “You’re better.”
Oh, Bucky likes that.
“That right, baby?” he coos. “Might have to do it again. You know. Just to be sure.”
“We sure do,” you tease back. “Wait here. I’m going to change into something more comfortable.”
You press a quick kiss on his lips and skip off to the bedroom.
Bucky sighs in relief. Everything is all right. In fact, this is turning out to be even better than he expected.
Until he hears you enter the bedroom. And, ohh, right, that thing.
“Bones-Bones?!” you shriek in horror.
James Bucky Barnes isn’t as lucky as his porn-star doppelganger. And, judging from the cursing coming from their bedroom, he isn’t going to get laid any time soon.