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Bucky Barnes. Blue eyes, pink smile, blue jacket. Oh, he’s nothing short of a heartthrob. Handsome, remarkably so, chiselled and boyish. Charming in every way imaginable. Flirtatious, of course, but in a gentlemanly way. It starts off innocently enough. Bucky’s blue jacket draped over your shoulders one particularly cold night. The blue jacket that’s been the object of your fantasies for so long. Simple to him, or at least you thought so. There’s an intensity in his eyes. And you burn hotter than ever before.

A compromising position. One you’re only too happy to find yourself in. Bucky’s confession seared into your memory, no doubt a fantasy that will work you up for weeks to come. Bucky’s confession that seeing you in his blue jacket has him at his hardest.

“Oh, fuck, babydoll,” he groans, handsome head pillowed on your bed. “Sugar, you’re the sweetest thing to a man like me. And when you wear my jacket, Jesus Christ, cock’s just aching for your pussy.”

Bucky’s scent drifts over you. You feel so heady, already lost to your desire. Rough fingers curled around your hips. Your palms splayed on his chest. Nails scrape the defined lines of his muscles. Walls fluttering wildly. His length slick with your arousal. And the obscene sound of him fucking into you is deafening. But you can’t bring yourself to care.Steve could hear and that only turns you on more .

Bucky’s blue jacket. Heavy on you, dragging against your hot skin, catching on your hardened nipples. And God, it’s dirty but it’s erotic. You, riding Bucky, wearing nothing but his jacket. He’s beautiful like this. Hair tousled on your pillow. Chest shiny with sweat by candlelight. Bucky, the heartthrob.

Bucky knows it, too. Though he’s not arrogant, he takes pride in seeing you ogle him. A lick of his lips and he growls hungrily. You squeak, finding yourself on your back and Bucky hovering over you with a glint in his eyes.

“One of these days, we’ll get our own place. I wanna see you walkin’ around in nothing but my jacket. Christ, sugar, you in my jacket, belly all round with my baby.”

That’s new. Moans bitten back. Teeth sink into his shoulder when he thrusts into you wordlessly. Relentless, fast, hard. You know you’ll be sore tomorrow, but it’s so worth it. The grin on Bucky’s face is predatory. Wolfish worship in the way he can’t seem to tear his gaze from the swell of your breasts and every thrust that has them bouncing. 

Jolts of heat low in your core. Clit throbbing. Body humming. All for Bucky Barnes, the blue-eyed heartthrob. His mouth collides with yours, swallowing your moan when you come. A shaky gasp of his own. Warmth as he spills into you and God, the way he fights to keep his eyes open just to see you in his damned blue jacket is enough to make you whimper aloud.

You blush every time he dons the jacket after that.