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Always Read the Fine Print Chapter 12
Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5 Chapter 6 Chapter 7 Chapter 8 Chapter 9 Chapter 10 Chapter 11
Who actually reads all the terms and conditions? After mindlessly checking a box years ago, our Reader unintentionally agrees to be part of a scientific study to create super soldier babies. To make matters worse, her fellow test subject is the brooding and intimidating Bucky Barnes.
Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader
Summary: Reader struggles to accept this colder relationship with Bucky. Meanwhile's he's up to something...
Warnings: arranged marriage, forced proximity, lots of angst, violence, PTSD/nightmares, panic attacks, language, SMUT 18+ only, oral fem receiving, unprotected sex, size kink, let me know if I'm missing anything
a/n: Hi friends, I'm sorry it's been so long. My depression came at me like a b*tch. But I'm here now and will hopefully be posting more regularly 💕
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Every night, Bucky would hand you that stupid syringe. Your heart sunk a little each time he’d knock on the door. You were hoping he was coming to spend time with you, to tell you everything was going to be okay, to hold you. But instead, he would put the syringe in your hand, kiss your forehead, and leave the room. That was it. 
As if that wasn’t bad enough, he was spending all his time with Steve - almost every day. You could hear them talking downstairs. You could never actually make out what they were saying, but you could hear their serious tones murmuring through the thin walls. You considered standing at the top of the stairs so you could eavesdrop, but you knew better than to spy on two super soldiers. So instead you paced around the bedroom–the one that you were supposed to be sharing with Bucky–and waited for Steve to leave. Although no one outright said it, you got the feeling that you weren’t invited to their little chats. One time, you went downstairs with the excuse of needing a snack. They immediately shifted the topic to Steve’s recent mission. Steve, ever the gentleman, would greet you with a warm smile and invite you to sit with them. He’d ask you how you’re feeling, how your day was going, if you’ve read any good books lately. You appreciated his kindness but felt a little awkward – surely they were itching for you to leave so they could return to their conversation. Once the small talk became unbearable, you’d fake a headache and excuse yourself. You claimed you were going to go lie down, but they could hear your faint footsteps pacing on the hardwood above them.
~
Bucky was completely and utterly miserable. He was still fuming about the sensors they implanted in you. You were his wife, and he couldn’t protect you. It made him feel powerless. He couldn’t stop thinking about how panicked you were the last time you had sex. He could feel your anxiety. He couldn’t help but think he violated you in some way. This prevented him from giving you any affection; he was terrified of crossing a boundary with you. The forehead kisses were as far as he dared to go. Deep down, he knew he should sit down and have a conversation with you about it. But if he heard you say outright that you don’t want to be intimate with him anymore, he would be devastated. 
~
After three weeks of doing this ridiculous syringe routine, you couldn’t take it anymore. He handed you the syringe, kissed your forehead, and turned to leave. Just like every other night. But this time, you reached out to grab his hand.
“Please don’t go,” you whispered, tears already welling up in your eyes. You’d be embarrassed if you weren’t so desperate for his attention. 
“Oh, doll…” Bucky wasn’t sure what to say. His heart was breaking, seeing you like this. 
“Please, just stay the night. We don’t even have to talk. Just spend the night with me,” you begged, tears freely falling down your cheeks. “I miss you.” Your confession was all it took for Bucky to realize what an idiot he was. He was so desperate to protect you, he didn’t even occur to him that he might be hurting you. 
“Of course, sweetheart. I’m right here. I’m sorry I left you alone so much,” Bucky admitted, pulling you into a tight hug. “I was so scared I’d upset you, but I seriously screwed up.” He rubbed your back as you let all your tears fall. All those weeks of feeling so alone, but you finally had your Bucky back. You wanted to smack him and kiss him at the same time. 
He helped you with the syringe, which was oddly romantic. He was very gentle. Once that was over with, he pulled you into his chest, running his hands through your hair and down your back. You let out a long sigh – you had missed this so much. You forgot how your head felt resting on his toned muscles, how warm his chest was, how safe you felt. It was like a dream. A wonderful, euphoric dream.
“Do you trust me?” Bucky asked softly. The question caught you so off guard, your finger paused before it could finish tracing the scars on his chest. Propping yourself up, you looked at him quizzically. “Of course I do. What kind of question is that?” you replied. You were trying not to be offended that he would doubt you. 
“All I’ve wanted to do is protect you,” he began, sitting up to fully face you. He took your hands in his, mindlessly fidgeting with the diamond ring on your left hand. “But I’ve failed every time.”
“Bucky–“ you tried to cut him off, but he continued.
“No matter how hard I try, you end up getting hurt. I hope you can forgive me. Some days I can barely live with myself, knowing how much pain I’ve caused you.”
“Bucky, for Christ’s sake. This is NOT your fault!” you interjected, hating to see him beat himself up like this. 
“Doll, please just let me explain. It’s important,” he said, giving your hands a small squeeze. You nodded slowly and stayed silent, letting him continue. The urgency in his voice was scaring you. “You deserve better than to stay here and pay for my sins. I can’t stand to watch you suffer like this. Okay? I need you to understand.” His pleading eyes looked deep into yours. The more he talked, the more fearful you became. “I’ve told you some of the atrocities I’ve committed as HYDRA’s assassin. The things I’ve done to further their agenda, to get them in power,” he sighed deeply before continuing. “With the number of times they scrambled my brain, they assumed I couldn’t remember anything. That I wouldn’t recognize faces. But I do. I remember all of them.”
Your heart was breaking for the man in front of you. All those people he killed and all the ones that made him do it. They all take up space in his mind. No wonder he never sleeps. 
“The HYDRA members they arrested when I was freed…that was only a small fraction of them. HYRDRA is everywhere. If I break you out, there’s nowhere we could go that would be safe. I can’t rescue you until I dismantle HYDRA.” He paused and waited for your reaction. He wasn’t sure how you’d respond to all this. 
“Wait a second…are you saying HYDRA is behind all this? I mean that would make sense, this whole reproducing super soldiers thing is messed up, and they’re not exactly known for being ethical. But HYDRA working inside SHIELD? All this time? That’s…” You wanted to say impossible, but ever since your world got turned upside down, you don’t know what to expect anymore. You’ve completely lost sense of what’s normal. “So what do we do? If it’s as big as you say, there’s no way you can take them down alone.”
Bucky let out a deep sigh, looking around the room as if the words he’s trying to find will reveal themselves in the wallpaper. His gaze meets yours, but he won’t find the answer in your eyes either. He held your hands in his and took a deep breath.
“Steve and I have a plan. But we’re gonna need your help.”
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steve rogers is a lot smarter than people give him credit for
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“What you did all those years, it wasn’t you. You didn’t have a choice.” “I know… But I did it.”
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We're Not in CW Anymore - 6
Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5
The reader gets blasted into another universe - one where Sam and Dean Winchester are real people, real hunters, and really fucked up. To her surprise (or horror), Dean has been getting glimpses of her life in his dreams and is completely enamored with her. It's nothing like the cable-friendly CW show that she knows and loves.
Reader x Dean Winchester
Warnings: language, violence
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Chapter 6: The Family Business
“Dean, that’s not a fucking ghost!” you yelled. “It’s Family Remains!” you said as if that would explain the situation.
“What the hell are you talking about?” Dean yelled back, shooting you a look of confusion. Before you could reply, the psycho girl pulled a knife out from her pocket and bolted towards Sam.
“Everyone to the shed!” you commanded, ushering the family out the front door. Surely the boys could handle a little girl with a knife, you told yourself. You were saving people, they were hunting things. The family business, right?
You practically shoved the family into the shed and took a headcount – the son was missing.
“Danny? Where’s Danny? Oh my god, where’s my son?” the mom sobbed, bolting to the door. You quickly grabbed her and put your hands on her shoulders, preventing her from leaving.
“Listen to me, your son is okay,” you said, knowing exactly where he was – the demon kids have him tied up underneath the house. You definitely remember that part. “You’re going to have to trust me. They won’t hurt him. I promise,” you said firmly. You sat her down on a bench and rubbed her back. “I know it’s hard, but we’re safer together. Once Sam and Dean get back, we’re going to get your son.” You got up from the bench and walked towards the door. “I’m going to stand guard. Stay put,” you instructed. The authority in your voice surprised you. Look at you, being brave. Maybe you could do this hunting stuff after all.
You waited outside for what felt like forever, every rustle from the bushes causing you to jump out of your skin. Finally you saw Sam and Dean run out the front door towards you. Thank god. Dean put his hand protectively on the small of your back and guided you into the shed. He stood close to you, looking over his shoulder to see if the girl followed them outside.
“Okay Y/N, time to explain,” Sam said, shutting the shed door behind him.
“Okay so this is Family Remains – my favorite episode, remember? I told you about it at the diner. What killed the old man wasn’t a ghost, it was his granddaughter, who literally lives in the walls of the house. Well, granddaughter/daughter, he was a nasty man. Anyways, it’s not a ghost, there’s a boy and girl who live in the walls and underneath the house. They’re crazy, completely removed from the world, and out for blood. They have the son tied up under the house. There’s a spot in the kitchen that we can open up and get right to him,” you explained. “How’d it go with the girl?” you asked, noticing the blood spatter on their clothes.
“She won’t be a problem anymore,” Dean said. It sent a shiver down your spine – the man you were warming up to just stabbed a little girl to death. A crazy ass killer little girl, but still. Her blood was all over his flannel.
“Okay well the brother is still a threat. And he’s probably pissed we just killed his sister,” Sam said. “Y/N, what’s the plan? What happens next?”
“Well first we have to open up that spot in the kitchen wall. Dean, you go down there while Sam and the dad make a rope out of sheets. All your guns are down with the son, so you’ll be able to neutralize the brother,” you explain. “He’s going to come for you, so you have to watch out. But he’s never seen the light of day, so shine a flashlight in his face. It should stun him long enough for you to grab a gun.”
Dean nods, turning to Sam. “Well, Sammy, sounds like we’ve got a plan.”
As you walked back to the house, your stomach did flips. You hoped to god you were right. In the actual episode, the mom kills the girl. Does this change things, now that Dean had already killed her? Is this reality different? Maybe the son wasn’t safe like you promised. The thought made you want to vomit.
Sam made quick work of opening up the drywall in the kitchen. Immediately the smell of rotting flesh wafted into the room. It made you want to gag. You covered your mouth and nose with your hand to get some relief from that rancid smell. Sam and Dean seemed unphased.
“Jesus christ, that’s disgusting! Do you smell that?” the dad exclaimed.
“Every goddamn day,” Sam said flatly, setting down the hammer.
You turned your gaze to Dean, fear welling up inside you. He was about to go right into the danger pit, and you weren’t entirely sure he’d make it out alive. His eyes met yours and it felt like he could read your mind.
“Am I about to die? Because you’re looking at me like I’m about to die,” Dean said, a little amusement in his voice. He clearly did not share the same concern you did.
“No, I’m just…this is going a little different than the episode. I’m worried other things will be different too,” you said solemnly. “Please, be careful.”
“Sweetheart, I’m always careful,” he said, leaning in to peck your cheek. “Just another day at the office.” He shot you a wink before lowering himself into the hole in the wall. “Please nobody grab my leg, please nobody grab my leg,” you could hear him say. Even in the face of danger, he was making you smile.
The silence that followed was painful. Unlike in the show, you couldn’t see what was happening. You busied yourself with the sheets, tying them together as securely as you could. The sound of two gunshots made you jump. You looked over at Sam, who gave you a look of reassurance. They do this every day, you told yourself. Dean’s a big boy, he can handle himself.
Danny’s shouts from the hole in the wall made you spring into action – thankfully you had just finished tying up the last sheet onto your makeshift rope. Sam and the dad quickly pulled the boy up. As the father and son embraced, Sam shouted down into the wall, “Dean! Get your ass over here!”
Several beats of silence passed before you heard Dean’s gruff voice shout back, “Sammy, knock off the attitude! I’m grabbing all our shit. Those kleptos threw everything down here.”
You let out a sigh of relief – he was okay. He was good enough to be snarky and irritated.
By the time the family was fully reunited in the shed (minus the dog), the sun was starting to rise. Dean turned to Sam, rubbing his hands together.
“Bodies or tires first?” he asked. You blinked – what did he just ask?
“Bodies. I hate changing tires,” Sam replied. “Y/N, grab a shovel. The sooner we finish, the sooner we can go the fuck to sleep.”
The boys shoveled into the hard soil with ease. You, however, were struggling. Dean, sensing your frustration, suggested you grab the lighter fluid from the car. You were more than happy to do so. You practically skipped to the driveway. When you came back, the 6-foot hole was almost done.
“Grab the girl, I’ll go get the boy,” Sam told you.
“Absolutely not. I’ll grab the girl. Y/N stays here,” Dean snapped.
“Someone’s gotta finish digging this hole, Dean,” Sam replied.
“It’s fine, I gotta pull my weight,” you jumped in, though you were not entirely sure. Would you be able to handle carrying a dead body? Not only mentally but physically? You were about to find out.
Making your way into the living room, you saw the lifeless body of the little girl slumped in the middle of the room. Taking a deep breath, you squatted down and picked her up bridal style. It was rough at first – she was heavier, dirtier, and smellier than she looked. Once you were able to stand up, it was easier.
As you approached the hole, you saw Sam leaning up against a tree, scrolling mindlessly on his phone. Just another day at the office. From the hole, Dean reached his arms out to take the body from you. The boy was already laying down there next to Dean’s feet. Dean put the girl down next to her brother, and with a ridiculous amount of agility, hopped out of the hole. Sam dumped salt and squirted the lighter fluid generously into the grave and set it alight. Dean sat on the ground, catching his breath from jumping out of the grave. Sam chuckled at a video he was watching on his phone. Their casual demeanor really took you off guard.
“Um, I got the tires,” the dad shouted from the side of the house. You could sense his hesitancy from here. You don’t blame him. Who would want to approach the two massive men who just lit two dead bodies on fire?
With a frustrated groan, Dean got up from the ground. “You can do the car and U-Haul. I’ll do the Impala. I don’t trust your grubby little hands with her,” Dean said to Sam.
It didn’t take long for them to put the new tires on the vehicles. The mother repeatedly thanked you, giving you countless hugs and crying about how you saved her baby. Despite how you felt about the two kids that you just helped salt and burn, you were very grateful that the family was okay. You supposed that, overall, this was a win.
The three of you couldn’t decide on a place to eat, so Dean took it upon himself to pull into the nearest burger joint. Sam shot him a look, and he shrugged. “I’m sure they have some sort of salad here. Quit whining.” Dean, of course, ordered a bacon cheeseburger, Sam got the only salad on the menu, and you opted for a BLT. The food arrived quickly, and the boys immediately dived in.
As you took a bite of your sandwich, the images of the dead little girl flashed in your mind. Her face was sunken, eyes wide open, frozen in horror. Her final moments were pure fear. Your heart clenched in your chest. This poor girl lived a miserable life. Did she even have a name? Your stomach did flips as you thought about it. Suddenly you weren’t very hungry.
Dean watched you as you set down your sandwich and pushed your plate away. He tried handing you his burger. “Want mine?” he asked, as if the issue was with the BLT and not the horrific night you endured. You shook your head.
“How do you guys do this? All the smells and the gore, and you’re chowing down only hours later. Doesn’t it disturb you?” you asked. They shrugged and continued eating.
“You get used to it after a while,” Sam replied. “Sure, there are still some situations that will make me lose my appetite, but it’s rare these days.”
“But…you killed two kids today. And the smell of their flesh burning…it was awful. You aren’t bothered by it at all?” You couldn’t believe they could treat this like any other day. They were so nonchalant about it.
“Decomposing flesh burning – now that’s a smell that’ll bother me,” Dean said with a mouthful of food.
You looked at him in disbelief. But then it dawned on you – to them, this IS any other day. The horrors you witnessed today were something they see every damn day. The smells, the screams, the tragedy. Your soulmate was a hardened killer.
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The hot winter soldier.
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✨Masterlist ✨
Always Read the Fine Print - Bucky x Reader
Who actually reads all the terms and conditions? After mindlessly checking a box years ago, our Reader unintentionally agrees to be part of a scientific study to create super soldier babies. To make matters worse, her fellow test subject is the brooding and intimidating Bucky Barnes. Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5 Chapter 6 Chapter 7 Chapter 8 Chapter 9 Chapter 10 Chapter 11 Chapter 12
We're Not in CW Anymore - Dean x Reader
The reader gets blasted into another universe - one where Sam and Dean Winchester are real people, real hunters, and really fucked up. To her surprise (or horror), Dean has been getting glimpses of her life in his dreams and is completely enamored with her. It's nothing like the cable-friendly CW show that she knows and loves. Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5 Chapter 6
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Always Read the Fine Print Chapter 11
Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5 Chapter 6 Chapter 7 Chapter 8 Chapter 9 Chapter 10
Who actually reads all the terms and conditions? After mindlessly checking a box years ago, our Reader unintentionally agrees to be part of a scientific study to create super soldier babies. To make matters worse, her fellow test subject is the brooding and intimidating Bucky Barnes.
Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader
Summary: SHIELD adds yet another layer of discomfort to Bucky and reader's relationship.
Warnings: arranged marriage, forced proximity, lots of angst, violence, PTSD/nightmares, panic attacks, language, SMUT 18+ only, oral fem receiving, unprotected sex, size kink, let me know if I'm missing anything
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Your entire body buzzed with anticipation as Bucky pulled into the SHIELD parking lot. You spent the ride in comfortable silence, Bucky’s hand resting possessively on your thigh as he drove. It was enough to calm your nerves, at least until the car shut off. Then your anxiety flared up and your stomach did flips. Please god don’t let me throw up in his car, you thought. That would not be cute.
“Hey, look at me,” Bucky said softly, taking your hand in his. “Whatever happens in there, we’re a team. We can get through it together.” You nodded slowly, As long as you could stick with Bucky, you’d be able to handle whatever they threw at you. You could be brave.
Your bravery did not last very long. The moment you stepped into the conference room, you were whisked away to yet another exam room. Was Bucky nearby? Was he still in the conference room? You wished you at least knew where he was.
The nurses had you change into a gown and lay down on the table. They were shuffling next to you, setting instruments onto a tray in preparation for whatever was coming next. The moment you saw a huge ass needle, you decided it would be best to stare at the ceiling instead. Hadn’t they done enough poking and prodding?
After a few excruciatingly painful stabs to your cervix, the nurses instructed you to get dressed. It would’ve been nice if they told you what the hell they just did to you, you thought. You then realized it didn’t matter – you already signed your rights away.
When you got back to the conference room, Bucky was sitting alone at the long glass table. He stood immediately and walked over to you, placing a finger under your chin so he could study your face. “Are you okay? What did they do to you?” He was panicked. You looked like you were in pain, and that made him angry. He was the one that had to pay for his crimes., yet you were the one suffering the most.
“I’m okay, just a few pokes. A couple needles can’t scare me,” you lied, thinking you could comfort him. Bucky frowned. Kind of a stupid idea to think you could lie to the Winter Soldier. The truth was you were in quite a lot of pain, and you were terrified to find out what they just injected into you. But if you voiced all this to him, it would become more real. It was more calming to pretend like everything was fine.
Deciding not to push you further, Bucky pulled out a chair and motioned for you to sit. You didn’t protest – the pain was making you a little woozy. He rubbed your back gently as you both stared at the door, waiting for whatever was coming next. You jumped when the door finally opened. That abrasive woman from before walked in with her stupid pencil skirt and tall black heels. Following her were a couple men in suits and the man you recognized from before – Bucky’s lawyer.
“Good morning! Mr. Barnes, you look well. I hope that little farmhouse is living up to your standards.” She was mocking him. She really was the worst. Bucky grunted in response, not even looking in her direction. You hoped that made her feel disrespected.
“Well, I suppose we better get down to business. I assume you’re wondering what we did to your little friend here?” she asked, motioning to you. Her question was met with silence, so she continued. “I’m sure it’s no surprise that I don’t trust you very much, Mr. Barnes.” Bucky scoffed but she ignored him. “I had to ensure full participation in the study. What we injected into this young lady is a series of sensors. They’ll be able to tell us the exact moment sperm moves past her cervix.”
“The consent that Y/N and Sergeant Barnes signed allow no such devices to be implanted. You’re overstepping,” his lawyer cut in. You were so glad you had someone on your side.
“Oh Mr. White, I had a feeling you’d argue with me on this. Please refer to page 104, section 8. You’ll see that we have full authority to use whatever medical devices we deem necessary for the success of this study. I’m afraid we’re perfectly within our rights,” the lady retorted. “As I was saying, we’ll be notified the moment sperm moves past the cervix. You cannot play games with me, Mr. Barnes. If we do not get a notification at least once a day, you’ll be paid a visit, and it won’t be a friendly one. At least not for your little friend.”
Bucky’s jaw ticked and his fists clenched. They were threatening you, and it made him furious. He vowed he wouldn’t let anything happen to you. One day, he would kill every single one of these bastards. But for now, he had to do everything he could to protect you.
Back at the house, thoughts swirled around in your head as you fixed dinner. Sex with Bucky was amazing – life changing, really.  It was the most magical thing you’ve ever experienced. You were afraid to admit it, but you wished you’d get to experience it every day for the rest of your life. But having SHIELD know exactly when you were having sex, and how many times? Talk about an invasion of privacy. It made you feel incredibly uncomfortable.  
Bucky spent the entire meal trying to read your mind. How did you feel? Violated, he assumed, but he wasn’t sure if your opinion of him changed. You were suffering once again because of his actions. He was supposed to be the one paying for his crimes, not you. Rage bubbled up inside him as he watched you eat. There you were, offering a comforting smile with a mouthful of pasta. He didn’t deserve you. He was only hurting you. He was disgusted with himself.
You could tell something in Bucky’s demeanor changed, so you took his hand from across the table and gave it a squeeze. He wouldn’t even look at you.
“Bucky?” you whispered. He could hear the hurt in your voice but didn’t respond. “Bucky, what’s wrong? Please don’t shut me out.”
Hearing the pain in your voice, how you were begging him to open up, it broke his heart. He couldn’t bear to see you like this,
“I’m sorry, doll. I’m so sorry,” was all he could say. He wrapped you in a tight hug and buried his face in your hair. You weren’t quite sure why he was apologizing, so you just wrapped your arms around his slim torso and reciprocated the hug. He released you just enough to lean back to look at your face. “This is all my fault. I’m so sorry. You don’t deserve this.”
“Bucky…” You didn’t know what to say. He didn’t deserve this either. It wasn’t his fault, but clearly he feels guilty. Words wouldn’t come to you, but you had other ways to comfort him. You reached up and traced along his jawline. Slipping your hand to the back of his neck, you pulled him down for a kiss. You were gentle and cautious – one slow, meaningful kiss. You pulled back and searched his face. The deep lines in between his eyebrows were softening, and his eyes were lighter. The kiss must have eased some tension, but that wasn’t enough for you. You wanted him to feel good.
Leading him to the couch, you motioned for him to sit down. You knelt down in between his knees, moving slowly to see if he’d stop you. When he didn’t, you slowly unbuckled his belt, pulled down the zipper, and sprung his cock out of his pants. Your eyes widened and you instinctively licked your lips. You’d never get used to how big he is. You looked deep into his eyes as you ran your tongue from the base all the way up to the tip. His eyes rolled back and a moan escaped his lips. You swirled your tongue around his shaft, slowly taking in his cock inch by inch. Bobbing your head as you made your way down. What you couldn’t fit in your mouth, you rubbed with your hand. Your other hand was gripping his strong thigh for support. You lost yourself completely, so focused on how amazing he felt in your mouth. His hand was tangled in your hair, holding you firmly but not pushing down. You released his cock from your lips with a pop, looking up at him. He looked in complete bliss. He blinked, trying to get back to reality, and his eyes met yours. His look was sinful.
“Get up,” he demanded. You obeyed and stood in between his legs. In one swift motion, he took off your shirt and threw it across the room. He peppered kisses along your stomach as he undid your bra. His lips immediately found your nipple, while his hand mercilessly kneaded your other breast. He covered your chest in kisses and bites, sucking deliciously on your tender skin. The moans leaving your lips only encouraged him more. His hands were everywhere: the back of your thighs, up to your ass, your hips, your breasts.
“Bucky, please, I need you,” you panted, his touch alone making your body shake.
“I’m not done yet,” he replied, guiding you to the couch. As he spread your legs open, he kissed his way down to your core. Without any mercy, his tongue dove into your folds, sucking and running his teeth across your sensitive clit. He sat back on his heels and slowly worked his fingers into you, twisting and pumping his digits in and out of your pussy. “Such a good girl,” he cooed. “My beautiful wife.” His words alone sent you into a fiery orgasm. As you came, he increased his speed until he was finger-banging you into oblivion.
He kissed you deeply, quieting your incoherent mumbles and resetting your brain. You twisted your fingers in his hair and pulled his pelvis into yours, grinding shamelessly.
“Please,” you whispered. He chuckled.
“Alright, doll. I’m yours,” he replied, the corners of his eyes crinkling as he smiled. He slid his shaft into you slowly, letting you adjust to the size. You moaned loudly as he began thrusting his hard cock in and out of you. You desperately grasped his shoulders, trying anything to ground yourself. The sensations were overwhelming. But suddenly you remembered the sensors in your cervix. SHIELD was watching and waiting. You panicked.
“Wait wait wait,” you breathed, suddenly feeling extremely anxious. Bucky, on the verge of coming, pulled out immediately and climbed off you.
“What’s wrong? Did I hurt you? Talk to me, doll,” he was scared. Terrified, actually.
“I just…I…um…” you stuttered. “I don’t think I can do this. Not when I know they’re monitoring us,” you admitted. Bucky nodded his head and covered you with a blanket. He kissed the top of your head and went outside without a word. You felt like you had whiplash. The stark change from mind-blowing orgasms to the sudden panic of being watched, then Bucky just up and leaving. You weren’t sure what to make of it.
You waited for Bucky on the couch, but after a half hour or so, you decided he wasn’t coming back anytime soon. You waddled your way upstairs and got ready for bed. You heard a car door open and looked out the window – it was Steve, handing a paper bag to Bucky. You wondered what could possibly be so important that Bucky would just walk away from you to get this.
You were warm and comfortable in bed when Bucky burst into the room. “Doll, you gotta get up. It’s almost the end of the day and the sensors haven’t gone off yet,” he said hurriedly. It was true – the day was almost over and Bucky had not come inside you. You shivered at the thought of what they would do if you failed.
“Okay, you’re right,” you said solemnly. It made you feel uncomfortable, but you were sure the punishment would be even worse. You didn’t have a choice. The magic of sex with Bucky would completely disappear, but you had to do it.
Bucky grabbed your hand, gently kissed your knuckles, then set something in your hand. Confused, you opened your hand to look at what he just gave you. It was a long plastic syringe, filled with a white substance.
“Bucky?” you asked, eyebrows furrowed. What the hell was this?
“Semen has to pass your cervix. They never specified how,” he explained. “Leave it on the nightstand when you’re done. Goodnight, doll.” He walked out of the room and closed the door.
Chapter 12
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The way his hand cups her face, his thumb caressing her cheek…
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it’s december 1 where’s the christmas tail kitten bring him to me
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I do not respect the grind. Go to bed
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Hilda by Duane Bryers
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— 𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐥𝐝 —
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જ⁀➴ — bucky still struggles to come to terms with deserving the life that you gave him; cw: being parents?, brief mentions of Winter Soldier past, killing etc, bucky’s poor self esteem/trauma :( pairing: post fatws! bucky x f!reader
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Bucky looked down at the bundle in his arms, swaddled up in a baby pink blanket. Sweet little eyes — his eyes — looked back up at him, and in his hands was a faint, running tremble.
His daughter had all her mom’s beauty, and to look down at her was to look at you, too. Both of his girls, he loved beyond life. The slight tremor spread to his left, phantom limb.
He had never imagined that parts honed for killing could’ve been so gentle as this: to cradle a child, his child, his sweet baby girl in the arms that had only been weapons.
Bucky didn’t think that he even deserved such a chance to prove it was false, either.
That was, until he met you. Until you gave him the life that he held.
Still, it had taken weeks for your husband to touch your pregnant belly — with both hands, with the limb that had only stopped feeling so foreign to his body when you’d shown him how to love it. Because you had — you did — you loved it just like any other part of him; his story was his, and you’d sooner live swathed in his darkness than anyone else’s light.
Bucky often thought back to the first night it had changed. You’d been two months along. And he had cried to feel the baby kick up through the mound of your belly, and to the vibranium.
Almost as if his little girl was saying that it was okay. He was worthy. That no matter what he had done, he was here with her now. Her daddy.
It was seven months later by now, and that sweet little bump was a newborn child. It was two in the morning, and you slept soundly in the bed that you shared and that Bucky had crept from.
At least that’s what he had thought.
A soft gurgle had sounded from the beside monitor, and though she was most likely still sound asleep, Bucky couldn’t resist just one little look. He’d just go and check in on her. For a moment. That was all.
So rubbing his eyes and cricking tension from his neck, he had padded barefoot and half dressed into the nursery.
The one he’d painted any colour but red.
God, he’d spent hours putting that room together by hand — both hands. Day after day, until his eyes had read through furniture manuals to bleed.
You, of course, had helped too; painting walls but getting most of it all on your clothes.
And already, back then it was beautiful: the thought of your future, and the life that you’d made. And she was with you for all of that time, growing soundly and strong in your stomach.
His daughter.
Even now, it still felt like a miracle. Felt like more than he deserved. There were nights when his past still rushed him, and he ran cold with sweat, chased from dreams in your bed.
What if he hurt you? What if he hadn’t truly lost him, and he hurt his own child?
The Winter Soldier may be gone, yes — but how much was left in the man who remained?
And so, that voice came back again and again, all the time. Every day. The one that said that he shouldn’t have this; and that someday, someday he’d see. He’d be washing the dishes, cooking dinner, or walking the aisles of some grocery store — it didn’t matter. There was nowhere in the world where he could escape those thoughts — you do not deserve this life.
Nowhere but for this room. The room where his little daughter slept every night.
Because it was true, after all that he’d done. The people he’d killed, when it should’ve been him. He was never meant for it, should’ve died in the Great War back when he was meant to.
But then he wouldn’t have met you.
Wouldn’t have fallen in love with the woman who’d shared his apartment building, and who’s smile had taken his breath so completely that looking away seemed a crime. And to think he had somehow earned the privilege of the life you’d given him — to spend every night sleeping beside you, and waking up to your face? — was too much.
You, who stood in the doorway to the nursery right then, looking in, your face soft. Of course, you’d noticed his absence like an absence of yourself, and you’d turned in bed, felt for him and reached only empty space.
All warmth, all comfort gone.
But you stood there, now, in his tshirt, arms gently folded over where she had grown; your child who, now sleeping soundly in her father’s arms, was a plain and clear daddy’s girl.
Your eyes met Bucky’s tired ones but his smile was true, and so loving it ached. Love for his wife, for the home that you’d built so far from the hell that he’d long left.
Love for the daughter who yes, had your husband’s devotion.
You wouldn’t change it for the world.
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CHRIS EVANS Captain America: The First Avenger - Outfitting A Hero
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How often do you think they talk about this?
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he's ruining my life by looking like that
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Bucky Barnes + first and last scenes in The Falcon and The Winter Soldier (2021-)
Episode One - New World Order
Episode Two - The Star-Spangled Man
Episode Three - Power Broker
Episode Four - The Whole World Is Watching
Episode Five - Truth
Episode Six - One World, One People
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We're Not in CW Anymore - 5
Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4
The reader gets blasted into another universe - one where Sam and Dean Winchester are real people, real hunters, and really fucked up. To her surprise (or horror), Dean has been getting glimpses of her life in his dreams and is completely enamored with her. It's nothing like the cable-friendly CW show that she knows and loves.
Reader x Dean Winchester
Warnings: language, violence
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Chapter 5: RIP Buster
Perhaps it was the comfort of the Impala, or the craziness of your Target experience, but you were quickly snoozing in the backseat. The hum of the engine on the highway was incredibly relaxing. As you slowly made your way back into consciousness, you could hear Sam’s voice.
“All I’m saying is we don’t know anything about her. I’m not saying she can’t be trusted, just that we need to keep in mind that she’s a complete stranger.”
“Sam, I’m not an idiot. But you don’t get it. It’s wild, man. It’s like I’ve known her my entire life,” Dean replied.
Hearing them talk about you made you flustered, and you couldn’t pretend to be asleep any longer. You let out a groan as you stretched, letting them know you were up now.
“Well good morning, Sleeping Beauty,” Dean teased.
“Where are we?” you asked, ignoring Dean’s comment. You weren’t awake enough for a witty response.
“Stratton, Nebraska. A man was brutally murdered in a locked room, in a locked house. No signs of forced entry. Definitely a ghost,” Sam replied.
You hummed in response. A ghost – this was actually happening. You were going to work a case with Sam and Dean Winchester. Anxiety fluttered in your stomach as you thought about it – you were never the horror type. Gore, you could handle. But jump scares? You were a wimp. Hopefully they weren’t expecting you to hunt with them.
Your thoughts were interrupted as the car pulled up to a large farmhouse. You thought you saw movement in one of the second-floor windows, but your mind was probably making things up. You were already scared. This was going to be a long day.
Dean picked the lock on the front door with quick precision, and the three of you walked inside. The interior was actually quite charming. You could smell the fresh coat of paint on the walls. It was hard to imagine such a brutal murder occurred in here not that long ago.
The boys surveyed the house room by room. Sam was holding an EMF reader that was beeping almost continuously.
“EMF is going wild,” Sam observed.
“Yeah, but look – power lines,” Dean said, motioning out the window. “EMF means jack squat.”
Moving upstairs, you decided to check out the rooms for yourself. Out of pure curiosity, you opened one of the closet doors. Sitting in the smack middle of the floor, there was a doll’s head, hair practically all gone, covered in dirt. Fuck that. You were too focused on the disturbing doll to notice Dean walking up behind you.
“That’s not creepy,” he said sarcastically, making you jump out of your skin. You turned around and smacked his arm.
“Dude!” you yelled, your heart racing.
“C’mon sweetheart, it’s just a doll,” he chuckled. “It’s not going to hurt you.” Apparently he thought this was funny. He softly grabbed your arm, rubbing his thumb on your bare skin. You crossed your arms and glared at him.
“We got a fucking problem,” Sam said as he jogged into the room. The three of you peered out the window as you saw a car and a U-Haul pull up to the house. A boy and his dog jump out of the car and start running around in the front yard. “We gotta get them out of here,” Sam says, pulling out a fake badge from his inside coat pocket. Dean nods his head and turns to you.
“Keep close and play along,” he warns. “This shouldn’t be a problem, but you never know.”
Walking down the porch steps, Sam hollers to the family in the yard. “Sorry folks, but this house isn’t livable. You’re gonna have to pack it up and stay somewhere else tonight.”
“Not livable? We just had it inspected last week! Who exactly are you?” one of the men exclaims.
“I’m Mr. Stanwyk, this is Mr. Babar, and our intern Ms. Fogerty,” Dean says as he and Sam whip out their badges. “We’re with County Code Enforcement. We have evidence of asbestos and a gas leak. Nothing you want to mess with. I suggest you stay at a motel tonight.”
The teen girl groans, “Dad, you can’t be serious!” The dad sighs and complies with Sam and Dean’s request.
“One night. One. Then we’re coming back in the morning and moving in,” he says.
The three of you jump in the Impala to talk to the longtime housekeeper. Surely if there’s a ghost in that house, she’ll give the boys a lead on whose body needs to be burned. You waited in the car as they spoke with her on her porch. Your thoughts wandered towards the moment in the bedroom after Dean scared you. It was like he was trying to comfort you. You wondered if he felt bad about it. The memory of his hand on your arm sent shivers down your spine. His touch was intoxicating. You wanted more.
The boys got back in the car, settling in their seats with a frustrated sigh.
“How’d it go?” you asked.
“The wife died in childbirth, and the daughter hung herself. Both were cremated. So either someone else is haunting that house, or one of them is hanging onto something in that house. We’re gonna have to go back and take a look. Maybe the attic or under the house there’s something sentimental they’re stuck to,” Sam explained. Great. Back to the creepy old house, right as the sun was setting.
~
Dean cussed as he pulled up to the farmhouse – the family was back. The car and U-Haul were back in the driveway, and light shined through the upstairs windows. They had moved into the haunted murder house.
“Fuck!” Dean cursed as he slammed his hand against the steering wheel, “What are we gonna do?”
“We could tell them the truth,” Sam replied.
“Really?” Dean asked, shocked.
“No, not really.” Sam shot Dean a look for even considering that he was being serious.
Screams came from the house, and quickly Sam and Dean jumped into action. Busting the front door open, the boys took a moment to assess the situation. You ran up to the house and immediately saw “GO” written in red crayon on the wall. The teenager was shrieking and crying.
“What’s wrong, what happened?” Dean demanded.
“What’s wrong is the girl in the walls LICKED me!” the teen yelled, gesturing to her hand.
Before Dean could even try to process that statement, you heard the dog yelping loudly outside.
“Buster!” the dad yelled, running out the front door to find his dog. Sam, Dean, and you followed him out, finding a highly disturbing message – “TOO LATE” was written in blood on the side of the U-Haul.
“There goes Buster,” you muttered to yourself, not quietly enough though. Dean snorted, then tried to play it off as a cough. Sam glared at both of you, then turned to the dad.
“You need to get your family and get the hell out of here. Go into town, find a motel, and let us handle this.” The dad nodded and went inside to gather his family. Dean turned around to grab supplies from the trunk of the Impala. That’s when you noticed something off.
“Um…guys?” you said, pointing to the tires. All of them were slashed: the Impala, the car, and the U-Haul.
“Seriously?! What kind of ghost messes with a man’s wheels?!” Dean yelled, assessing the damage done. Sam opened up the trunk, finding it completely empty.
“Be honest with me,” you whispered, “how fucked are we?”
“I’m not going to let anything happen to you,” Dean swore. “We’ll figure it out. We always do.” His promise sent chills down your spine. He seemed so protective, it was making your knees weak. Of course you were swooning when you might not live to see tomorrow.
Sam gathered everyone back inside the house and rummaged around for salt and iron. While he drew out the salt circle on the living room floor, something was eating at you. And no, it wasn’t the intense fear that a ghost could pop out at any moment and kill you. There was something about this that was so…familiar. You’ve seen this before, but you can’t remember how it ends.
The sound of the closet door squeaking grabs everyone’s attention. A dirty, demented-looking little girl slowly creeps out of the darkness of the closet. The family screams.
“Everyone stay calm! As long as you stay inside the circle, she can’t hurt you,” Dean said. But that’s when it clicks for you – this is Family Remains. That’s not a fucking ghost.
Chapter 6
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