Static: Get, Set, Glitch

Then (6 months ago)

There’s a knock at the door. But it’s 7 a.m. in the morning, she’s still heartbroken from the quasi rejection two days ago and her bed is her only solace. So she doesn’t move.

“Y/n!” comes a shout and she sits up in an instant. “Tell me you’re home, goddamn it! Please be home!” It’s Bucky. Bucky Barnes is banging at her door, at 7 a.m. in the morning. So she runs over to open it, “Y/n—”

He’s fucking soaked. He’s been running in the rain, she realizes. But he, on the other hand, seems to not even notice it. Almost seeming lost to the world, to everything but her.

“Sarge?” She asks simply. Because, in her line of work, this could just be a simple oh-the-world-is-ending-again-and-we-need-you-on-the-mission kinda banging on the door instead of a big romantic gesture kinda banging on the door.

She sincerely wishes it’s the latter.

He looks right at her, vibranium arm resting on the door frame as he says,“Taking time is for losers who didn’t spend 70 years in utter misery.” And with that he lunges at her, slotting his lips against hers. Right there. At her doorstep.

It takes a second for the words to settle into Y/n’s head and when they do, her lips curve up, she can’t stop herself. She’s not sure she wants to.

Bucky’s hands make their way onto her waist, pulling her close as she gasps. Bucky takes the opportunity to surreptitiously let his tongue slide in, sighing softly. Her hands, on instinct, have found their way around his neck. He seems awfully content to keep kissing here at the damn doorstep but she can’t have that. It’s too unceremonious.

So her hands fall onto the collar of his jacket, pulling him inside the house. She’s faintly aware of him kicking the door shut behind him, not inching away from her for even a second. She pushes him back into the door, her hunger rising. The kiss is getting sloppier by the second, they’re both fairly restless. Bucky’s hands are traveling slowly but surely to down her thighs again.

And oh fuck, does she love what’s coming next.

Bucky picks her up and she instantly wraps her legs around him. And the fact that he seems to be able to carry her like she weighs nothing more than a feather is making her drip just a little bit more… Okay, a lot bit more. “I love it when you do this,” she admits in between kisses.

“What? Pick you up?” He asks, as his lips begin to make their way down her neck, biting and sucking and licking.

She just nods wordlessly, too lost in the sensation that is Bucky. Her hands travel from his shoulders to his hair, playing with them softly.

Bucky smirks at her silent response. “Will pick you up, as much as you want. Whenever you want,” he promises, peppering soft yet needy kisses, in between the words, all over her face.

She chuckles softly. “That’s good to know.” She pulls back just a bit. “So you want this, then?” She asks, looking at him. And fuck she hates sounding so… worried, okay? She does. She doesn’t want him to feel guilty if he doesn’t but she wants him. Oh, how she wants him.

He rests his forehead on hers, noses brushing, “I do… Do you?”

“Been wanting you for a while now, sunshine,” she confesses in a whisper as if it’s a secret for just the two of them to have, in the confines of these walls. For them and just them. “Can’t get you out of my mind.”

Bucky seems invigorated by the admission because all of a sudden they’re turning around, and she’s being pushed into the wall of her short hallway. One of his hands slowly begins crawling up to her cheek, with fleeting feathering touches over her body that makes her downright dizzy. “Will you go out with me?” He asks, breathlessly before resuming kissing.

Really? What does he think, she’s gonna say ‘no’ with his hand on her ass?

“Right now? It’s fucking pissing outside,” she remarks absentmindedly, focusing on the feel of his sharp jaw under her palms.

“Is it?” He licks the side of her neck, reaching up to her earlobe, and begins nipping on it. Her head falls back unable to contain the soft moan that escapes her. Meanwhile, his metal hand journeys lower coming to rest on the curve of her waist, gripping. He sounds surprised.

She pulls on her lips between her teeth.“Yea, Buck. You’re soaked.”

“Let me help you get the same?”

Fucker doesn’t have to charm her pants off. It’s not like he wasn’t literally getting there already.

“Thought you wanted to go out,” she remarks because she doesn’t want to lose to him just yet.

His lips have found their way onto the curves of her breasts now. “I do.” She pulls on his hair as he begins to lick the place the spot just above her chest he was just sucking. “But fuck, you’re addictive.”

“Then can’t we just skip it?” She bucks her hips onto him and as suspected, he’s hard as a rock. They both let out gasps simultaneously at the feeling, finally pulling back a little.

“I wanted to do this properly,” he tries. But he’s already lost half the battle in using past tense. She tries to pull him back but he doesn’t relent, “You deserve a proper date.”

“Buck, right now, I deserve the painfully handsome man standing between my legs, in between my legs.” She watches a blush flood his cheeks. “Hopefully, more than once.”

And with that she’s being pulled back in, lips crashing together as he begins to walk carrying her with almost no effort at all. “As many times you want, sweetheart,” he promises.

She smiles, riding her hips higher, rubbing their groins together.

“Fuck,” he breathes out. And she would demolish constellations into nothing to hear that noise again, and again, and again.

She directs him to the bedroom in between passionate kisses. They stumble along and bump into the steel sliding door of her room along the way. But when she suggests he puts her down so they can do it without that much hassle, he whispers a soft ‘Never’ into her ears.

He plops her down onto the mattress, her legs dangling off the edge of the bed. His hands gently begin pulling up her sweatshirt, kissing every inch of the exposed skin along the way. He focuses on the kisses on the valley between her breasts as he gets rid of the clothing as if it’s personally offended him.

And, yeah. She’s not wearing a bra. She’s not a heathen, okay? Why would you wear a bra at home? Besides, Bucky doesn’t seem to even pay it any mind, focusing on sucking on her tits with ardent vigor.

She tugs at his jacket, motioning him to remove it as well. He obliges. But she isn’t satisfied. Grabbing at the hem of his shirt, she begins pulling on it. He chuckles and breaks away from her cleavage to take it off and throw it off to the side. And then he’s back on her in a second.

Moving lower, marking her torso along the way, he slowly takes off her sweat pants. Spreading her legs apart, he gets on his knees between them. She can see his tongue dart out, licking his lips hungrily, taking in the sight in front of him. His eyes match the same need when they meet hers. “You drive me crazy, you know that?”

She’s leaning up on her elbows, eyebrow cocked. “I try my best.”

A smile spreads across his face and without much preamble, he dives in. His tongue licks a long stripe over her panties, which were already pretty ruined to begin with. “I see I don’t really have to help you much in the soaking department. You’re drenched, sweetheart.” Without waiting for a response, he jumps back in. Licking long and hard over the cloth and it’s driving her insane.

“Bucky,” she whines. Needing more, wanting more.

He pulls back a bit, clicking his tongues in disapproval, and then licks her clit over the panties. His hands are on her torso, wrapping each of her thighs from underneath. While one is rubbing gentle circles on her skin, the other one is occupied in the process of pulling up on the panties, stretching them out over her folds just painfully enough to drive her wild. “Not the name I wanna hear.”

“What?” She doesn’t have the brain capacity for this right now. They aren’t even completely naked yet and she’s losing it already.

“Come on sweetheart.” He noses at her clit as he speaks. “Say my name.”

“Jamie,” she moans out.

“There you go, babygirl.”

He’s gonna kill her. This man is gonna fucking kill her.

He tears off her panties in favor of taking them off, with a mock apology that she can hear his smile clearly through. She can’t bring herself to protest because his lips are on her pussy again and he’s slowly adding in two fingers. “God, look at you. You’re dripping. Fucking gorgeous.” He pushes in the last knuckle. “All this for me?”

“God yes,” she breathes out. Her voice sounds wrecked even to herself. His fingers curl and flick back and forth, and in and out, while his metal arm keeps her legs apart. “Want more, please.”

“Cum on my face first, sweetheart. Wanna taste you so bad.” He’s licking her in tandem with the strokes of his fingers. “Cum on my tongue. Then you can cum on my cock all you want.” And then his pace takes off. And she’s a withering mess. Her legs are crushing his head in an attempt to relieve the pressure. But he seems to only enjoy it more, his ministrations becoming more intense. Her hands are gripping onto his hair, pulling at them in some vague attempt to push him further in. And the fucker groans while sucking harshly on her clit. He groans! And how can she possibly not lose herself in that?

Her vision blurs, falling off the edge. Her body writhes and he laps her up, fingers not stopping their movement, fucking her through her orgasm.

When he finally relents, she doesn’t waste a moment, pulling him back up to her. Her lips clash with his and she can taste herself on them. She relishes it in, and he seems to notice. He brings up his fingers, pulling back to let her suck them off. He whimpers at the sensation and that’s enough invitation for Y/n.

She pushes him off, hopping onto his lap. “My turn.”

She places one last kiss on his lips for good measure and then her knees hit the floor. She unbuckles his belt, urging him to take his pants off. He lifts his hip, sitting up and in one fluid motion, she rids him of both the pants as well as the underwear.

Her mouth waters at the sight. His cock is painfully hard. The tip is a glistening pink coated in pre-cum. She can’t stop herself from leaning in and licking it off slowly while looking at Bucky with nothing but unadulterated need in her eyes. He shudders audibly, “Fuck me.”

“I’m trying, sunshine.”

He chuckles but it breaks off into a gasp as she takes in him as deep as she can. She lacks the patience he had. She’s hungry for him. His cock feels heavy on her tongue. Tastes so sinful it’s downright sacrilegious. Her hands come to the base of it, jerking him slowly in tandem with the moment of her head bobbing.

She pulls back, swirling her tongue over the tip twice, puckering her lips, hollowing her cheeks. He gets out an ungodly moan that she wants seared into her brain, for the rest of her long life. She pushes back down, taking in as much of her as she can. And his hips buck up, making her gag. She can feel him freeze under her.

Looking up, meeting his eyes, she just goes deeper, gagging more. He cocks his brow at her, remaining stiff.

So she pulls away, eyes still fixed, “Fuck my face, Jamie.” She licks her lips as slowly as possible. His eyes finally break away to follow the movement. “Please.”

And with that whatever restraint he had, breaks. His hands find their way into her hair and her lips fall back onto his cock. He begins slowly, testing out the waters. But his thrusts slowly pick up the pace. “God. Fuck, Y/n.” She’s gagging at the length—which is considerable—her jaw hurting at the width of his cock—also appreciable. There’s tears running down her cheeks.

She loves every single second of it.

“God, your mouth feels so good around my cock, sweetheart,” his pace is unrelenting. He seems lost in his bliss. Y/n soaks up every second of it. “Fuck look at you, you’re taking me so well.” He wipes away her tears but doesn’t slow down. All she can do is keep her mouth wide open and let him ram into her face uninterrupted. And enjoy it, of course. She can feel herself soaking again. So much so, she can feel some of her slick dripping down her legs.

His thrusts become irregular, his pace stutters and he goes to pull her off of him but she’s come this far, she won’t leave without her grand prize.

She smacks his hands away, continuing to suck on him bobbing her head with more fervor than before. She’s fucking milking him. He’s a mess of ‘oh gods’, ‘oh fucks’, and her name falling off his lips like a sin. “Y/n, you keep going like that, I’m gonna—Oh fuck!”

A moan falls from his lips, cutting him off as her hands press on his balls while swirling her tongue around the tip of his cock. God, she could do this for the rest of her life without a single complaint.

“Baby I’m gonna—”

And with that being the only warning he cums into her mouth. She pulls back a bit, collecting the load in her mouth and then sucks him off some more. He cries out, overstimulated. “God, fuck. Baby. Holy fuck.”

She finally pulls back, meeting his eyes, still on her knees. She’s wearing a small smirk and that makes Bucky’s brows furrow in confusion. Until she opens her mouth, sticking out her tongue which is coated in his thick white release, not having swallowed it.

“Motherfucker,” Bucky lets out a shuddering breath. “You’re gonna kill me, sweetheart.”

He pulls her up on his lap, and she hops on happily. With a hand around her neck and the other around her waist, he pulls her close to his chest. “Stick your tongue out, sweetheart.” She obeys. And this Adonis of a man licks off his own release off of her tongue as slowly and as seductively as humanly possible.

Y/n can’t help but mewl at the sight.

He pulls her closer still, lips slotting together. Their kiss is sloppy, lubed by his cum, smearing over both their lips. Whatever drops seem to slip out of their grasp are brought back in by either one’s tongue darting out and lapping it up. Their tongues dance around each other, while their nip at each other’s lips. Bucky’s hands are now resting on her breasts, playing with her nipples, pulling on them just hard enough for her to whine in pleasure.

She can feel Bucky’s cock—still rock hard—under her pussy. She grinds on it to tease him and in retaliation, he smacks her nipple harshly.

The moan that falls from her lips makes her pull away from the kiss. A string of spit mixed with cum stretching out between lips.

“Fuck me,” she exclaims.

“I’m trying to,” Bucky mimics her words back to her with a coy smile.

“What’s stopping you?” She challenges with a smug smile of her own.

The only answer she gets is him picking her up a bit, and lining up his cock with her entrance. He rubs the tip of it back and forth across her folds, soaking up her wetness. The asshole is teasing her.

“Please,” she begs. “Please, I need you.”

At her words, he can’t hold back, he pushes in. Simultaneously, she pushes down on him. The stretch is fucking sublime, she’s ripping apart in half on his delectable length as a series of ‘oh god’s escape her lips. Fingernails are scratching down his back, and she’d be worried about it if he wasn’t a super soldier.

“Fuck sweetheart!” He breathes. “God. You’re so fucking tight.”

He doesn’t move. His grip on her waist is deliciously tight.

She can’t take it anymore, “For fuck’s sake James, move or I’m going to die.”

He lets out a half chuckle before replying, “Gimme a second, babygirl. Or this’ll all be over way too soon.”

“Then we can do it all over again.” And with that, Y/n begins to move herself. With her knees on either side of him, and using his shoulder as support she begins to ride him with pure abandon. The whole room is filled with nothing but shamefully loud moans and half spoken pleas. Both asking for more, both craving each other endlessly.

“You’re so beautiful,” Bucky breathes, “especially like this. Bouncing on my cock. You look fucking perfect, baby.”

Her head falls back at his words and his lips find her nipples. He sucks on them, bites them, driving her insane. “Harder, please,” she begs. “Baby please, fuck me harder.”

And Bucky readily obliges. Wrapping his arms around her waist to shoulder her weight. He picks up his pace with longer, harder thrusts. He’s fucking up into her. And she can do nothing but hold on and let him. He angles her a little farther away and that aligns perfectly with her spot. “Fuck!” She screams out.

“Ah, found it,” Bucky smirks and begins fucking her, aiming at her sweet spot relentlessly.

She’s a mess of mumbled prayers. “Please, don’t stop. Yes. Yes! Don’t stop, baby. I’m so close.”

“Look at me,” Bucky says, breaking her chanting. “I want to see you fall apart.”

And the words are enough to push her off the edge, for the second time. Her back curves and she sees pure white. Her eyes remain fixed to his but the sheer bliss warms her from the inside out.

His pace, however, remains unrelenting.

“Jesus Christ!” She’s sensitive and overstimulated but the pleasure is too fucking mind-numbing to protest against. So instead she just screams out in raptured delight.

He chuckles, picking her up and throwing her on the bed, never pulling out. “Just me, babygirl.” He pulls her legs over his shoulder and almost pulls out only to thrust back in with full force. The new angle is mind-numbingly euphoric. Every buck of his hip hitting her spot. She doesn’t think she can remember her name right about now. All she knows is Bucky. And frankly, that doesn’t bother her one bit.

“Too much—I can’t—” she tries.

“One more, baby. Please,” he coos at her. “Cum on my cock again, please. And then I’ll fill you up.”

Her ears perk up at the promise. She can feel herself squeezing onto him harder. He can too. She can tell, 'cause he’s smiling smugly, “You want that, sweetheart? You want me to fill you up?”

“Fuck yes,” she answers, fingers grabbing at the sheets for purchase. “Want to be full of your cum, Jamie. Want it dripping down my pussy.”

“God,” he curses, his hips faltering. “You’re gonna be the death of me, you know that?”

“Worse ways to go.”

He pushes her legs apart and drapes himself over her, placing a searing kiss on her lips. And of all the things that could throw her off the edge, this has to be her favorite one. “Jamie!” Painfully sensitive and blissfully numb, she hasn’t been this fucked out in ages. She relishes in it as he fucks her through her third orgasm and his thrusts grow irregular.

He’s so close, she can see it in the way he’s biting his lips. He just needs a little push.

Her hands cup his face. “Cum for me, baby. Cum in me.”

And he does.

His release coats her insides with warmth. He comes so hard and so long, she feels stuffed. She can even feel the warm sticky liquid slipping out of her pussy and dripping down onto the bed.

He collapses on top of her. His face, buried in the hollow of her neck, he sighs in content. And that brings a smile to her face. She begins tracing small patterns over his back as she says, “You plan on getting out of me, Barnes?”

“Not if I can help it.”

She chuckles. He sounds… relaxed. “We can come back after we clean up.”

“Just wanna hold you a little bit longer.”

And who the fuck is she to deny him that?

Now (6 months later)

There’s a knock at the door.

Y/n and Bucky had been lounging around in her apartment all morning. They’d barely convinced themselves to make it out of the bed and into the shower with whispered promises of getting far dirtier in there, before getting clean.

Still feeling lazy post the shower shenanigans, they had decided to order pizza for lunch, having skipped through breakfast entirely in favor of soft and sweet morning sex.

Sam, who they had plans with that afternoon, has shown up just as they were placing their order over the phone. Now the three of them were desperately waiting for pizza while shooting the shit and talking about absolutely anything and everything.

Upon hearing the knock, she gets up and so does Bucky.

“Where’s the plates?” he asks when he makes his way into the kitchen but can’t find them at their usual place.

She walks over to the door. “I shifted them to make space for your stupid mug collection.”

She can hear him grumble in response before pointing at a shelf and asking, “this one?”

“No. It’s on up on the left there,” she answers pointing over at another one, as she opens the door. Bucky tries to follow her line of sight but reaches for the wrong shelf. “Sunshine, that is not your left,” she chides, with a chortle and then looks ahead at the person at the door who was supposed to be their much-awaited pizza man.

Except, it’s not the pizza man.

It’s Steven Grant Rogers.

Her body fucking halts.

“Oh fuck no,” she deadpans and shuts the door on his face.

Both Bucky and Sam are confused by the outburst at what they presumed was the pizza man.

But Y/n doesn’t have time for that. She needs out. Right now. Right the fuck now.

She walks back into her bedroom, pulling out a denim jacket and white converse from the closet, and walking out.

“Y/n?” Sam calls out, confusion clear on his face. She places the jacket on the couch, where he’s sitting, and plops down on the backrest and begins putting on her shoes. His body is turned to her, his hand resting over the back of the couch. “Y/n?” He asks. Again.

Bucky walks over to her, and unlike Sam he seems worried.

Which makes sense, cause he can probably read her better now that—

Oh fuck no, that is not something she can deal with right now in light of this recent revelation.

There is another knock at the door. More hesitant than before but all three of them turn to look at it.

She laces up her shoes. “What—what’s happening?” He asks. “Where you going?” She gets up, picking up her jacket. “And who was that?” He balks out all the questions, arms flailing.

She puts on her jacket atop her white sweats, walking over to the door which is still being knocked?? The audacity of this man, she thinks. “What’s happening is, I’m leaving. I’m going out and that,” she opens the door, “was your best friend since childhood; Steve Rogers.”

He’s not old and grey like the Steve in this timeline. He doesn’t look a day older than the last time she saw him… before he left to go be with Peggy.

“Well, fuck.” Both Bucky and Sam speak out in unison from behind her.

They’re all standing face to face with the man who is very much supposed to be in the past… somewhere in the early ‘50s, living out in suburban bliss, enjoying the perks of true Americana.

But instead, he’s staring at her with his ocean blue eyes, a frown evident on his face.

“Steve?” Sam asks cautiously.

“Is it really you?” Bucky asks, almost to himself.

Steve’s eyes don’t leave Y/n’s as he nods wordlessly. But then he speaks and Y/n wishes he really hadn’t. “You cut your hair,” he points at her.

Y/n can’t help but cackle at his face and the hollow nature of it shocks everyone out of the trance they had fallen into. “Yeah well, so did he,” she points back at Bucky. “Anyway, see you later folks.”

“Wait wait!” Bucky calls out at the same time as Steve says, “But it’s your home!”

“And?” She snaps, and both men flinch away.

“I just was hoping to talk,” Steve replies hesitantly. Letting out a shuddering breath, he asks, “Can—Can I come in?”

She moves aside, giving him passage.

All three men fall out of the short hall, and she uses the moment to grab the keys off the keyholder on the wall. She turns to them one last time and says, “Well, seems like y’all have a lot to catch up on. I’ll see you guys later.”

And with that, she steps out and closes the door behind her.