#Buchanan Rides Alone

[incorrectlooneytunesquotes]

Bugs: You don't like this town?

Daffy: I don't like sthome of its people.

Bugs: Me included?

Daffy: You ethspecially.

Bugs: Oh, you'd like to kill me, maybe?

Daffy: I'd like to give you what you and your boys gave me.

Bugs: Take the law into your own hands, is that it?

Daffy: No. Just you.

#Bugs Bunny #daffy duck #source: buchanan rides alone

[holylulusworld]

Indifferent (1)

Summary: Your father wanted a bond between you and the Barnes Empire. No matter what.

Pairing: Mafia!Bucky Barnes x Wife!Reader

Warnings: arranged marriage, angst, mentions of impotence, arguments, mafia au, hand around throat (no choking/non-sexual), strong reader, mentions of cheating/attempted cheating?

Indifferent Masterlist

He glares at you from across the dining table. His upper lip curls when you dig into the too-dry chicken his new cook prepared for you and your not-so-lovely husband.

“I’m not satisfied—” he leaves open what crawled up his ass today, but you know, it’s not the food. James Buchanan Barnes is bad at hiding he despises you when you are alone.

“You are not satisfied?” You chuckle dryly and drop the fork onto the table with a loud clank. “Why don’t you ask me how I feel?” You get up, chair scarping loudly over the expensive parquet.

His eyes darken when you dare to walk toward the end of the huge table. “What is it that bugs you, love?” He spats the last word as if it burned his tongue.

“You!” You throw your hands up. “This marriage is a farce. If I could, I’d be out and about in the blink of an eye. Everything is better than living with an indifferent, moody, and impotent man!”

“IMPOTENT?” Bucky rises from his seat. He squares his jaw and clenches his metal fist. For a second, you’re scared to the bones, but you brush it off.

“YES! If not I wouldn’t ride a pillow every night,” you spat in his face. “Just you know, I’m going to look for a lover first thing today. And I won’t be subtle about it. Everyone knows by now that this marriage is a bad joke. I refuse to be the butt of the joke, though.”

“You won’t ruin the union of our empires over selfish reasons.” You gasp when you end up pressed into the wall, Bucky’s metal hand wrapped around your throat. He leans closer to brush his nose over your cheek. “Even though, I don’t think you’ll find a lover anytime soon. Who would go for you if they can have some other girl? I’d go for someone else too if only I could…”

He drops his hand from your throat and smirks. Bucky steps away, flashes you a smile, and storms out of the dining room.

You stand there, shell-shocked at his outburst as you rub your throat. His words hurt like hell. You drop your eyes to look down at your body. It’s been a while since you felt this kind of hurt. 

Maybe it’s you. Maybe Bucky isn’t interested in being with you because of your looks.

“Hurry the fuck up,” Bucky barks outside your shared bedroom. “Woman, I don’t have all day. My parents want to have lunch with the two of us. Just put a smile on and come here.”

You walk out of the bedroom, an armful of your clothes. “I think it’s for the best to not keep the act up. We are married, but this doesn’t mean I must spend time with your father.”

Bucky watches you walk toward the west wing of the mansion. He follows you hot on your heels, all the while throwing questions at you. 

“Where are you going? What are you up to? Y/N, answer me!”

“I’ll stay at the west wing from now on. Annie will help me bring my belongings to the west wing. You can do whatever you want to at your wing. Just stay out of my sight.”

You walk away, leaving Bucky stunned and angry. He grits his teeth and calls you names as you slam the heavy door parting the west wing from the entrance hall shut.

“What the fuck!” He mutters under his breath. So far, you suffered in silence ignoring his unbearable behavior, and the openly shown hatred towards you and your marriage. Now you riot and he doesn’t handle it well.

“Where’s your lovely wife?” George cocks his head as his son sits down on their table. “I thought you said she’ll be here too.”

“She’s not feeling well today,” Bucky lies straight into his father’s face. What else can he do? How shall he explain that the bond your parents forced upon the both of you lies in ruins after not even six months into marriage?

“Ah, she finally snapped,” Winnifred remarks while studying the menu. She smiles to herself, while her husband and Bucky turn their heads toward her. “Good for her. I was rooting for Y/N.”

She slowly closes the menu and lies it down on the table. Winnifred doesn’t give away more. She orders her food and a glass of white wine. Your mother-in-law is in the mood to celebrate.

It wasn’t a lie. She was rooting for you to take matters into your own hands. It took you longer than she liked but now, she’ll lean back and watch her son grovel.

“What do you mean?” Bucky and George say in unison. They are surprised at Winnifred’s answer.

“You forced that lovely woman into marriage and didn’t even try to make her feel welcome. Did you at least give her orgasms?” She chuckles. Bucky’s face turns red, he swallows thickly, and uncomfortably shifts in his seat. “I see. The poor woman suffers in silence.” She sighs now. “Alright, I’ll give her the number of our gardener. He’s got a son who will gladly help Y/N take care of her secret garden.”

“What?” George is at a loss for words while his son tries to forget that his mother was asking him about your non-existent sex life. “Mother!”

“What? I’m a red-blooded woman, just like Y/N. If you don’t find satisfaction with your husband, you must look elsewhere. Men do it all the time.” She shrugs before taking a sip of her white wine. “Y/N is a beautiful woman in her best years. Her sexual drive must be over the top after six months of not getting any attention.”

“Winni, stop saying things like that in public,” George snarls. “You are making a scene.”

“I’m not making a scene,” Winnifred bites back. “I try to make our son see that his wife will turn toward someone else in no time if he doesn’t take care of her every whim soon. You’ll weaken our bond, and this will shatter both of our empires. Is that what you want, son?”

Is that what you want? His mother’s words echoed in his mind the whole way back home. Of course, he doesn’t want to weaken your empires. 

The only purpose of your marriage was to strengthen not only his father’s empire but your father’s empire too.

If you turn toward someone else, an enemy maybe to get back at Bucky, the empires could crumble and fall only because he’s too stubborn to let you inside his life.

Bucky enters the mansion, a grim expression coloring his features. If only you weren’t so infuriating and stubborn he could’ve easily settled for you.

But no.

Y/N Y/L/N is the most annoying and bratty woman he ever met.

Sometimes Bucky believes you’re riling him up on purpose.

“Wait—” he stops in his tracks. Bucky furrows his brows as he tries to recall all of your little fights. “Is she doing it on purpose? Maybe she wants me to lose control and just…”

“Where are you going?” Bucky follows you out of the mansion. “Y/N stop being a brat. I asked you a question and I expect you to answer my damn question!”

“Out,” you glance over your shoulder at Bucky. “Your mother sent me something interesting and now, I want to find out if it’s for me.”

“She did what?” Bucky looks like he’s about to have a heart attack. He pants heavily and clutches his fists to his sides. “You won’t leave the ground for the time being.”

You huff. “Try me.”

He closes the distance between the two of you with three long steps to grab your arm. “Don’t tempt me to throw you over my shoulder! You’ll go back inside and listen to what I have to say.”

You laugh in his face. “Make me!”

Part 2

Tags in reblog.

#bucky barnes #mafia au #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you #x reader #mobster!bucky barnes x fem!reader #bucky barnes x y/n

[endless-ineffabilities]

So High School (1/2)

Bucky Barnes x f!reader

synopsis : the one wherein the reader and Bucky navigate the initial stages of falling in love, and well, it feels a whole lot like high school <3

themes : friends to lovers, slight jealousy, Bucky and the reader are Avengers, everyone is alive!

word count : 2k ▪︎ masterlist

a/n : inspired by Taylor Swift's So High School - that song makes me so fuckin happy I can't even begin to explain it... This fic is all giddy and warm, kind of like when you have a crush, playfulness and jealousy abound 💙

You are almost certain that you left your beloved leather jacket back on the quinjet.

The mission made you exhausted, like they always do, and you remember taking your jacket off and settling in for a nap on the ride back to the Avengers compound.

"FRIDAY, is the quinjet still at base level?" you ask aloud to the compound's omnipresent AI overseer.

She chimes in straight away, "Yes, the quinjet is undergoing routine checks downstairs."

"Well," you say to yourself, "I could use the walk."

FRIDAY speaks again, unprompted, "There is one James Buchanan Barnes heading to your door right now."

Bucky? "Oh, right now?"

"Yes, he'll be knocking in 3... 2... 1..."

And sure enough, he does.

You open the door to his sheepish, easy smile. FRIDAY would definitely be picking up on your vitals, noting your clammy hands and jumping heartbeat.

You desperately hope that she would shut up about it, otherwise you might just literally throw hands with Tony.

"Hi," he greets. Just that - just 'hi' - and he has you blushing like a schoolgirl. Damn it.

"Hey," you reply. Glancing down, you realise that he has just what you're looking for.

The jacket. You mean your jacket. Mind out of the gutter, you kick yourself internally.

"I, uh, think you left this back at the - "

" - the quinjet."

"Right, and I, well - " he stammers, and you don't understand why, when you're clearly the nervous one here.

"You're... here to give it back to me," you help him out, smiling.

"Yeah," he nods, smiling back at you. Leaning against your doorframe, he stays right in place, and you suddenly feel conscious by the way he's just looking at you.

"Uhm, Bucky?" you break the silence after a while, anxiously laughing.

"Yeah, doll?"

"My jacket?" you hold out your hand expectantly.

"Oh, here," he quickly hands it over to you, and you thank him. But he stays, rubbing the back of his neck, brows furrowed in thought. "Listen, I was wondering if - "

"There you two are!" Sam's booming voice startles you, and you spot him walking down the hall. "Debriefing time, kids, come on."

"Oh, right," you groan, tossing your jacket somewhere behind you. Shutting your door, you turn to Bucky, "Sorry, Buck, can it wait?"

"Can what wait?" Sam butts in, ears like a bat. He nudges Bucky with his shoulder, and you swear you see Bucky glare at him, while blushing all the while.

"Nothing," he mumbles and the three of you make your way towards the elevators. When Sam becomes distracted by some new panelling Tony installed recently, you catch Bucky's eye, and shrug as if to say - you can tell me later.

He simply nods. When the doors open, you feel his hand on the small of your back, guiding you in. Just for the briefest of moments, but it lingers in your mind.

So much so, that Tony tosses a pencil at you during debriefing when you're spaced out and didn't answer his question.

"Daydreaming, princess?" Tony smirks.

"Leave her alone, Tony," Steve comes to your rescue, ever the considerate leader. "She's tired, just like the rest of us."

"Yeah, sure," Tony shrugs. "Or maybe Bionic Man over there is distracting her with all the staring he does."

"Shut up, Tony," Natasha protests, catching your surprised look.

"I'm not staring," you hear Bucky say.

"Oh, man, you stare all the time. At everything," Sam counters. "Especially at her."

"No. I don't."

"Yes, you do. Doesn't he, Steve?" Sam laughs, twisting around to share the joke with Steve, who just fondly shakes his head, patting Bucky on the shoulder.

Your mouth feels dry, face flushed from the suggestive bickering partially at your expense, and when you ask, "Alright, alright, what was your question, Tony?"

Tony cheekily smirks, and says, "Quick, Barnes, look away."

"Oh, god," you tilt your head back and stare at the ceiling.

It's a collective, "Tony!" that followed, likely from Steve and Nat. Possibly Bruce, too.

Tony asks you again, something about the safety measures in place for the civilians left behind.

When you answer his question, you can't help but feel a certain pair of blue eyes looking at you.

But that means nothing, right? Bucky's just listening to whatever you have to say. The mission had been important, after all.

Five minutes later, in the middle of Bruce's explanation, you feel it again.

So you look to the side, only slightly, catching Bucky quickly turning to draw his attention back at Bruce.

Oh.

"What are you smirking at me for?" you approach Natasha, while tightening your hand wraps. Some of the Avengers have convened for routine combat practice. You've been looking forward to it, mostly being cooped up in the two weeks after the recent mission.

Natasha sports her signature knowing look when she says, "You're paired with Barnes today, milochka moya."

"Bucky? And?" you clear your throat, and you clock Bucky and Sam entering the gym in your periphery. Is it just you or did your voice just crack? No, it couldn't have.

There's no reason to be nervous, no reason at all.

Sure, he'll get all sweaty and he'll have to get his hands on you and he'll get close... very close... pressed against...

"I see I've lost you already," Natasha is quick to note. "And we haven't even started yet."

Wanda joins you, greeting with, "Did you know you'll be paired with Barnes today?"

Oh my god. You exclaim, "Why is everyone making a big deal out of it?"

"Because," is all Wanda responds with.

"Thanks, Wanda," you nod sarcastically. "Thank you both. Can we just get this over with?"

"Guys?" you call out loudly, addressing everyone in the room.

"Yes, everyone. It is best if we start," Vision says, him being the supervisor for training today. Leave it to an all-knowing entity to be well-versed in every fighting art in existence.

He reads off the combat pairings for the day, and their assigned fighting style.

Clint and Nat, krav maga.

Wanda and Sam, aikido. Though to be fair, she doesn't really need to use her fists should it come to that. Wanda's powers were beyond your comprehension. This is mostly just a fun little exercise for her.

And finally, Vision says your name followed by Bucky's, with the fighting style of jiu-jitsu.

That damned close-contact sport. You're well-trained in it, thanks to your job, but it involves a lot of straddling and the opponent heavily breathing down on your face. It wasn't exactly your first choice out there in the field.

But here? Well, it seems like you don't really have a choice.

Well, you do. And would you really choose otherwise?

Close contact with Bucky?

"Hey, doll," he walks right over, all prepped and ready. Clad in a black compression shirt and grey sweatpants. One look at him and you know you're not likely to survive this training session.

"You ready to get your ass kicked?" you cheekily say, as you to walk over to your designated area of the room with him right on your tail.

He smiles, mumbling something which sounded like, " - let you do anything you want to me."

"I'm sorry?" you blurt out, occupying yourself with the control panel for the instructional hologram.

"Nothing," he bites his lip. Oh, he just knows you heard him.

"Okay, so - " The hologram starts right up, showing faceless figures go through a standard combat routine. Ankle sweep. Closed guard. Arm bar. Back and forth until someone taps out. Then all over again.

"Fun," you remark, moving to circle him on the mat. "Give it your best shot, Barnes."

He makes the first move, trying to sweep your leg with his own and failing. You're too quick for that. As long as you don't get sidetracked by that shit-eating smirk on his face, you'll be just fine.

He rushes at you again, but you jump out of the way. You manage you hook your leg around his torso, and use your whole weight to force him down on the mat.

You end up with one knee pressed to his chest, your forearm applying the slighest pressure on his throat. It's an easy position to counter, and he should be propelling you off of him already. Maneuvering your arm out of the way. Something. Anything.

But the man just stares.

You'll be damned, but Sam was right.

"Bucky, come on," you snap.

Instead of a countermove, he hits you with something more disarming. "You look good up there," he says.

"What?"

"I like the view," he only adds, speeding up the rush of warmth to your face.

Your body goes slack, and your pressure on his neck eases. You struggle to think of something nonchalant, something blasé to say in turn, when he takes advantage of the moment and flips the two of you over.

He ends up on top of you, legs caging you in, hands gripping your wrists by the sides of the face.

"Shit," you curse when you realise what just happened. "Well played."

"Thanks," he responds. "I meant it though, you do look pretty. Like always."

"Another trick, Buck?" You attempt to play it cool. Maybe you can play off the obvious flush on your face as physical exertion. Not whatever this is. Not because of him.

He only smiles, getting back on his feet and extending a hand out to you.

"Not a trick," he says, as you both get ready for the next round.

"I'd say I'm flattered, if you weren't trying to beat me in hand-to-hand combat."

"Doll, I think it's safe to say that you won already," he says, his gaze softening.

What is he on about? "Uhh, no, that was barely anything. We're supposed to keep going."

His brows furrow, though his smile stays in place, albeit a bit strained. "That's not what I meant," he exhales, reaching forward to attempt a restricting hold.

His expression turns serious then, steely gaze boring into you, analyzing your every move. He lunges at you, and you block him. But he tries again and again, each move more precise and forceful.

He steps back to take a breath, and you use the opportunity to sweep his ankle, but he sees it coming. In a flash, he pulls your arm and twists you around so that your back is pressed to his chest. You wrangle against him, making him fall on his back, but he keeps his hold on you.

His metal arm encases your torso with your arms pinned to your sides, and his legs wrap around yours. Air rushes out of you in shaky pants, and you move your head to the side, the only part of you still mobile.

And he's right there, the tip of his nose brushing against your cheek. The tension is almost too much to bear, because you feel all of him - the solid planes of his torso, the coarseness of his facial hair growing out - and for the love of all things sacred, you hope you don't accidentally wriggle your ass against his crotch.

Bucky wishes so too. He would never be able to live that down, especially if one of the others would come around and notice.

"Do you yield?" His voice is rough, commanding against your ear. Even though it's nothing more than an assertive whisper, a shiver runs through your body.

"Y-yes," you muster, "I yield."

He keeps his hold on you a moment longer, and before you can ask him if something's wrong, and why he's not letting you go yet, he releases you.

And it doesn't bring you relief, surprisingly. Almost as if you just want to go right back into his embrace.

As you two get back on your feet, Vision's sudden appearance almost makes you keel over, startling the living daylights out of you.

"That was good," Vision comments.

"What the - Vis!" you place a hand on your chest to calm down. "Maybe announce yourself when you show up please!"

"But I've been standing here for approximately 37 seconds," he expertly says.

"Okay, well - "

"You both did not notice me," he goes on, matter-of factly. "Perhaps it might have something to do with your sheer focus on one another - "

"Okay, Vision, thank you," you attempt to intervene, to no avail.

" - which is good. In combat, you do need to stay hypervigilant. Although, might I comment, that the sudden increase in arousal hormones is not really conducive to battle - "

"Vision!" you and Bucky exclaim in unison.

Thankfully, Wanda notices and comes to your rescue, "O-kay, Vis, why don't you come and check mine and Sam's progress, hmm?"

"Of course," Vision complies immediately and they walk away hand in hand. Must have something to do with his undying penchant for Wanda.

Wanda throws you an apologetic shrug, before her eyes get drawn downward to something else near you, and she has to bite her lip to hold back a giggle.

You feel Bucky's hand take hold of your waist, ever so gentle, and everything else is quickly forgotten.

"You okay?" he asks, the ghost of a smile on his lips.

He stands close, and you catch a hint of his scent, sandalwood and mint, layered beneath a musk that can only be undeniably Bucky.

You hum in affirmation. Shaking you head, you respond with, "Vision was just being... Vision. Can never keep his observations to himself." His thumb moves, caressing lightly at your waist, the movement seemingly instinctive for him.

"Yeah, well," he smiles to himself, before reaching up and tucking back a stray lock of hair from your face, "the thing about that droid is... he doesn't lie."

He steps back, rolling his shoulders, getting ready for another bout of combat. As if he didn't have you subdued already.

"He wasn't lying about me, at least," he smirks, before getting into a stance and putting his arms up.

Feeling brave, because there's no way you're going to come out of this interaction as the only one flustered, you respond with, "He wasn't lying about me, neither."

Bucky doesn't expect that, used to being the suave and cockier one out of this dynamic. His fighting stance loosens, and he barely croaks, "What?"

Gotcha.

It doesn't take long for you to sweep him off his feet.

When you're left straddling him once more, you hit him back with, "I like the view."

He bites his lip, and then laughs, flushed and impressed.

Still on the ground, staring up at you, he decisively ends the match, the final blow too much for you to bear. Because he settles for saying, "Still doesn't beat my view, beautiful."

After more than an hour of fidgeting around your room, clothes strewn everywhere and music blasted to calm you down, you were finally ready.

Bucky had asked you what you were doing for the weekend, and you said you didn't have anything in mind, but asked him if he wanted to watch a movie in the common lounge with you.

He eagerly agreed, before you two were interrupted by Sam mentioning something about new upgrades to Red Wing.

So you didn't get to clarify what the nature of the plan was. Likely it was just another hangout. It wouldn't be the first time you and Bucky watched a movie together, went on excursions on your motorbikes, or headed out to grab some sushi.

Save for Natasha and Wanda, he's the one you spend the most time with.

And none of those times ever was a date.

But you feel nervous as you walk down the hallway. You've been nervous all the while you spent getting ready, unable to choose the right top, and eventually settling for a V-neck cobalt blue shirt that he once said he liked on you.

You're nervous because tonight could be it. You've taken it upon yourself to finally ask him.

Ask him what exactly? Whether he likes you as someone more than a friend? Whether there is a reason to all that staring that he does?

Whether he wants to kiss you as badly as you want to kiss him?

So, something along those lines.

He's standing right around the entrance to the common lounge, and you immediately think at how sweet it is that he's waiting for you.

Until he broke the news.

"Doll, I - " Bucky says, right after you come into view. "Oh, wow, you look great."

Smiling widely, you look down like it was nothing, like you didn't just spend the last hour worrying. "Thanks, Buck."

"Uhh, I have something to tell you, actually. You remember Yori? The man from - "

"Of course I remember him," you nod, now confused at what he's getting onto.

"Yeah," he hesitates, not sure he wants to speak further. All he wants is to spend the night curled up in the lounge with you, but all that is gone when he continues, "he kind of set me up on a date."

"A date?" your stomach sinks.

"With Leah. You know Leah? The girl who works at the restaurant that we go to sometimes with Yori?"

"Yeah," you shrug and look away, hoping your expression doesn't give away too much, "I know who she is. So you have a date, huh?"

"Tonight," he confirms. "I didn't... didn't even ask her, really. But last night at dinner, Yori asked and she heard and said yes - "

"She's really lovely. This is good, Buck."

"Yes, but we made plans, and I didn't want to - "

"No, don't worry about it." you put your palms up, as if to show him that you take the situation lightly. It was no problem, after all. He has to go on this date. You can watch movies together any time.

"Doll," he sighs. "I was actually thinking that, since we had plans already, you could come with me? I'm sure she would understand - "

"Bucky," you laugh dryly, "I am not crashing your date."

"But - "

"No buts," you have to affirm. "You have a date, so it has to be just you and her."

He purses his lips, nodding. He tries to gauge your expression, whether you're pissed at him or anything, but he's only met with a reassuring smile.

"What time is your date?" you ask.

"In about 40 minutes," he replies, giving you a good once-over again, taking you in fully. You really looked good, and he wants nothing more than to just stare at you the whole damn night. If only he wasn't so polite. If only he had the guts to just turn Leah down.

His face falls when you say, "I guess you better go," with a hint of enthusiasm, not knowing that it's your attempt at putting on a brave face.

"What will you do?" he asks.

"I don't know," you shrug. "I'm sure I'll find something. The others are mostly around so - "

"Hey!" Steve rounds up the corner, still clad in his riding jacket, having returned from outdoors.

"Going somewhere, you two?" Steve asks, his signature congenial smile in place.

"Not me," you respond, smiling back. "But Bucky here has a date actually."

"A date?" Steve says, taken aback. Did Bucky not tell him about this? He looks between the two of you, trying to put things into place, "Do you mean - ?" He trails off, gesturing at you.

"No!" A nervous laugh bubbles out of you. Of course, not with you. You wish.

"Really?" Steve makes a face, like the thought of Bucky going on a date with someone else was ridiculous, but he quickly collects himself. It's none of his business, for now. But he'll surely grill his bestfriend on it later.

"Don't you have to leave, Buck?" you turn to him. "You don't want to keep Leah waiting."

"Yeah, I suppose I should. I'll, uh, talk to you later, okay?" He says, taking a few measured steps back. Not wanting to turn away, and have you out of his sight.

"Sure," you smile, but it's weak and you know it is. Watching him walk away, you can no longer hide the disappointment you feel.

Bucky is still within earshot when you turn to Steve and innocently ask, "Are you busy, Steve? Care to watch a movie in the lounge?" Steve of course agrees, and lets his arm drape around you.

Bucky knows that you and Steve are just friends. Steve has gotten a hint of how he feels about you, and far be it from him to take his friend's girl.

But it doesn't quell that sinking feeling, when he looks back. He sees you smiling up at Steve, as the two of you disappear into the lounge.

It's going to be a long night.

#bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes #sebastian stan #sebastian stan x reader

[preciousbarnes]

Haunted

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Word Count: 2.3k

Tags: angst, loss, mourning, hurt/comfort, fluff eventually

Inspired by: Haunted by Taylor Swift

You felt ice cold, laying alone in a bed once kept warm by two bodies and now to be forever occupied by only one. It had been 3 days since you were given the worst news of your life, the worst news you would ever receive.

Part of you knew the second you opened the door to Sam standing on the doorstep, wringing his hands together and stuttering his request to come in. He never asked before, he was never nervous before. He had looked like he had just lost his best friend.

He had.

He explained to you the mission they were on in Eastern Europe, targeting an underground group attempting to recreate the super soldier serum.

Extensive, deadly injuries, you were told.

They knew with the number of injuries there wasn’t much hope, he explained to you. But hope was all you could hold on to at that moment.

Not compatible with life, you were told when asking for more details.

In between the cries, Sam assured you he did not suffer. Swore they loaded him up with every painkiller and sedative known to man to allow him to pass peacefully. That was it. When asking if you could see him one last time, Sam explained that it would be for the best if you remembered him as he was, breaking your heart even more.

You found yourself thinking of the obituary you had written earlier that day. How could you sum up a life like his into less than a novel? All he was, all he had to offer. Him as a whole.

Sergeant James Buchanan Barnes. Known simply as Bucky by loved ones. Aged 109. Loving husband, devoted soldier, and friend. Killed in the field defending what he believed in most, freedom and safety.

That was all you could bring yourself to write, and Sam assured you it was simple but beautiful just as your husband would have wanted.

Sam was arranging the rest of the funeral for you, which would take place tomorrow evening. Just a small gathering for those closest to Bucky during the sunset. All you had asked was for a private place for him to rest, preferably by nature. Known by few other than yourself, Bucky loved the outdoors. You wanted him to have a piece of beauty to himself forever. Thus, a small meadow had been privately purchased where he would by laid to rest.

You laid in bed, trying uselessly to go to sleep. You couldn’t. Each time your eyes closed, you saw Bucky. His smile, his beautiful eyes gazing at you, memories of his laughter and voice telling you he loved you. What once brought you comfort and warmth now kept you awake.

Late the next morning you moved robotically, getting showered and ready. As you did your hair and makeup, you saw how lifeless you appeared. Your hair was dry, without its normal shine. You had deep dark circles around your eyes. Your skin was dull. You looked lifeless, which matched exactly how you felt. As you styled your hair, you swore you saw a figure out of the corner of your eye. Gasping, you immediately dropped your styling tools.

You creeped out of your bathroom, and through your small home. No one was there. You could have sworn there was someone.

“Must be just lack of sleep,” you brokenly mutter to yourself, as you turn back to your bathroom to finish getting ready.

Around 5 Sam arrived to drive you to the small funeral. Tears slipped as it all began to become reality. He was gone. All you had was his memory to haunt you now.

The car ride was quiet. Sam kept looking to you out of the corner of his eye as he drove. He was worried, and heart broken for you.

“I know it doesn’t fix anything. It won’t undo the pain, but I’m here for you. I swore to Buck I’d always be here if something happened, just as he promised me for my family. You aren’t alone, honey. We’re all right here for you to lean on,” he softly told you.

“Thank you Sam. I’m just. I’m not ready to talk about all this yet. It’s too fresh still, but I think it always will be,” you tell him, voice becoming a whisper at the end.

You arrive at the meadow, to see the rest of the crew there. Agents, supervisors, the avengers, anyone who meant something the Bucky was there, just as you wanted. He deserved to be surrounded by love and respect as he is laid to rest. The scene was beautiful, a small meadow full of wildflowers near a little stream, with willow trees off in the distance. The sky was a mixture of pinks and oranges, beautifully painting the landscape in a honey golden color.

You all stand around the grave as Sam begins to speak, delivering the eulogy. You rest your hands on Bucky’s casket, stroking it the way you once stroked his cheek. As it all sinks in, the emotional dam you had built breaks open wide.

Out of your line of sight stands a figure hidden in the tree line. He watches as his own heart feels ripped in two, watching as you sob over the casket in front of you.

“You’re not gone! You can’t be gone!” you cried over and over. You were no longer numb. Seeing the casket, the flowers, the simple and inconspicuous grave marker, it all made it painfully real.

A small, sad smile takes over his face as he watches Sam gently pull you from the casket as it begins to be lowered into the ground. The man in the shadows tears up as he watches your sobs become heart wrenching wails of pure sorrow and grief, you begging for it all to be some sick nightmare.

The man slinks away further into the forest, left with nothing but sorrow and regret in his heart. It was coming over him like it’s all a big mistake.

That night Sam brought you back to his home, afraid to leave you on your own. Weeks slowly drudged on. You barely left his guest room. You couldn’t return to the home you once occupied with your husband. It was too much. Full of memories of love and promises of forever that was taken away far too soon.

When you did leave the guest room, usually when Sam was gone, it always felt as if someone else was there. A safe presence, a warm and familiar one. You swore you caught a figure out of the corner of you eye a few times. You’d always search the house high and low, some part of you hoping to find something but always coming up empty handed.

It all came to fruition one fateful night when you woke around 4am to hushed voiced down the hallway.

You creeped down the hall softly and slowly, stopping at the edge but not daring to peak around the hallways corner and down the stairs into the living room.

“Man, this cannot go on any longer. She’s fading away. There’s no way she can last a year like this. She won’t survive,” Sam said urgently and desperately. Your heart clenched despite your confusion at who he’d be talking to, hating to have worried him so. He had tried to take away the pain that he could, and had even made you smile a couple times. But it didn’t undo the hole in your heart and soul.

“I know, but I’ve worked something out” says a voice you’d recognize anywhere. One you never thought you’d hear again. You gasp, tears springing to your eyes as you’re suddenly running down the stairs to the two men.

There he was. He wore his all black tactical gear you had seen many times. His face had fading bruises and scrapes, obviously having just came from a fight of some sorts. He looked at your with a heart broken gaze, taking in your shattered appearance.

You sniffle, tears cascading down your cheeks as you feel like you’re seeing a ghost.

“Bucky?” You brokenly cry, as your knees buckle.

Before you can blink you’re swept up into strong and familiar arms, Bucky holding you tightly to his chest. Your fingers claw into his shoulders, gripping him to yourself as you sob violently, overwhelmed. Sam finds himself smiling softly at the reunion he wished for as he quietly excused himself.

“H-how?” You cry between sobs. Bucky sits down in a chair, bringing you down into his lap as he cradles you close, allowing you to rearrange yourself to straddle his lap, holding him tightly to your torso. You’re afraid to let go, afraid this is another dream and that you’ll wake to his memory slipping through your fingers.

His metal hand pets your back softly but firmly, grounding you as his flesh hand cradles your face, looking you in your eyes.

“Hey, baby doll. I’m right here, but you gotta breathe for me. Let’s just breathe for a moment alright?” His voice softly suggests. You look over his face, seeing the man you love more than life itself, alive and warm and healing in your arms. You nod, trying to catch your breathe.

After a few moments pass as you calm your breathing, you ask again.

“Bucky, I- I don’t understand. You, Sam said you were gone?” You question, voice wet with emotion.

He nods, and grimaces.

“We lied. I had to lie. The mission, it was bad. It is still bad.” He explains to your softly, continuing to give you soft pets and caresses that ground you. They tell you he’s here, he’s safe, he’s alive, he’s yours.

“How could you? Do you know how I’ve been? Bucky I was dead without you,” you sob softly.

His guilt ridden frown deepens, and there are tears in his eyes.

“I know, baby. I know. And I am so so sorry. There was no other way. There still isn’t. But I’m too selfish to keep this charade up, even if you’d be safer if I had,” he explains to you.

“What do you mean?” You ask.

“I’ve been here, checking in on you. I was at the funeral. I know how I’ve hurt you, and I will be sorry for the rest of my life. But I hope to spend the rest of my life making up for this.” He tells you, the realization dawning on you. You hadn’t been crazy. That figure had been him.

“It was you,” you whisper. Bucky smiles sadly and nods.

“It was. The mission was bad. They knew about you. They knew where we were, even with all our precautions we took. They were going to use you to get me, and kill you. I couldn’t let that happen. So Sam, a couple higher ups, and I faked my death. We figured in a year I could reveal the truth once my undercover mission going after them concluded. I needed you alive, I can’t live in a world without you on this planet. Even if it meant coming back in a year and you maybe moved on. It was worth it. But then I saw you mourn me. How broken it made you. I heard your cries, your pleas for me. I’m too selfish to continue this lie, even if it’d keep you safer.” He tells you, voice choked with emotion as his eyes fill with tears.

Your hands move from where they had grip of his shoulders to cradle his face, wiping away the tears the fell.

“Oh, James. I’m just so, so glad you’re not gone. I can’t live in a world without you. I would have never moved on. I promised to be yours and yours alone forever. Even after all of this, I mean every word I said to you.” You tell him, before pulling his face to yours for a kiss.

He kisses you like a man starving, his lips soft and warm but firm and demanding. His hands hold you reverently, like you’re made of glass and he refuses to let you slip through his fingers. You hold him softly but firmly in your arms, feeling his strong and sturdy frame under you. It promises safety, comfort, love, and a future.

You wrap your arms around him tighter, pulling him impossibly closer. After a few moments you both begrudgingly part to breathe. Your foreheads rest on each other as you gaze into each others eyes. The rest of the world had faded into the background, and it’s just you and the man you thought you lost; the man who you love and will love until the end of your days no matter how misguided he may have been.

“I’m so so sorry, doll. I love you so much. Missed you so much. I’ll never hurt you like this again, I just needed you safe” he vowed to you, voice breaking as he hugs you to his frame.

You readjust in his lap, wrapping your legs around him so you’re seated firmly on his lap. Your head rests on his shoulder as your hands softly map his back soothingly.

“I know,” you whisper, “I love you too. Always.”

You both sit there, basking in each other’s presence quietly, before you break the silence again.

“You said you have it worked out now? What did you work out?” You ask him in a whisper, not wanting to break the soft and peaceful atmosphere surrounding you both. You move to sit back up instead of leaving against him, grasping both his hands in yours.

“We’ll go into hiding for a while, until Sam and others can figure this all out. In the past few weeks I’ve narrowed down locations for them, and their structure. I’ll assist from the sidelines when necessary, but I won’t be in the field at all. I’ll be with you. We will be together.” He promises you.

“Sounds perfect to me,” you sigh, knowing the rest will be figured out. Looking down to where your left hand rested with his, you smiled as both your wedding rings caught the light. You were just glad to have your husband back in your arms, no longer just haunted.

#bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes fanfic #bucky barnes fic #bucky barnes #bucky x female reader #bucky barnes x reader #james buchanan barnes #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes x you #bucky fic #bucky x you #bucky imagine #bucky barnes angst #marvel imagines #marvel fanfiction #preciousbarnes fics

[tinabelcherseroticfriendfiction]

What Day Is It?

Title: What Day Is It? Fandom: MCU Pairing: Mob!Bucky X Reader Rating: NC-17 (MINORS DO NOT INTERACT!) Warnings: Mob!Bucky (yes, he’s a warning in and of himself), explicit sexual content, BDSM, spanking, riding crops, Dark content, impact play, orgasm denial, i think that's it? Words: 2,400 Summary: Bucky appears to have forgotten your birthday. So you go to confront him, but he misunderstands your anger.

�� Waffle Cone: Bucky Barnes 🔪 Chocolate: Mafia 🍓 Forgotten birthday 🍫 Fighting to fucking 🍮 “If you’ve got something to tell me, now’s the time to do it.” 🍪 “Fight me, you big bitch!” 🌰 “Be a good girl and bend over the desk.” 

All mistakes are mine, but shout out to my beautiful BETA reader @welcome-to-the-sin-zone

Happy Birthday, Birdie!!! @buckysbirdie, as promised, I got this up today! So this story came out MUCH DIFFERENT than what I had intended it to be! I was writing along and suddenly it took a sharp left turn and here's where it landed LMAO So I hope you like it!!! <3 <3 <3 <3

Materlist | Bucky Barnes Masterlist

You were pissed.

Absolutely, inexplicably, unconditionally, pissed. And the bastard responsible? James Buchanan “Bucky” Barnes, AKA The Winter Soldier, Mob Boss of Brooklyn. 

It was one thing to forget small things, like a last minute dinner plan. But your birthday!?

Bucky had been in meetings all month, which was nothing new. There were times when he would be gone from New York for weeks at a time doing deals and keeping tabs on his empire, but in the 5 years you had known him, he had never let work get between him and your birthday month, much less your birthday. But now… 

You stormed into his office, ignoring Sam and Steve who were trying to grab you and pull you out, telling you to leave Bucky alone, he would make it up to you. You weren’t listening. You were furious and you didn’t care how dangerous James Barnes was, you were going to give him a piece of your mind.

Bucky, for his part, was sitting behind his large oak desk, his tie undone, his hair mused, and his cell phone up to his ear, looking downright ragged. You didn’t care.

“Barnes!” You hollered, storming up to his desk and slamming your hands down like you could intimidate a man like Bucky. “Get off the phone!”

Bucky eyed you up and down, his eye twitched. “Doll.” He drawled, sitting up in his chair a little straighter. “I suggest you go back to your room. I will be there shortly.”

“No.”

He raised an eyebrow and advised the person he was speaking to that he would be right back, placing his phone on mute. “No?” He asked as Sam and Steve both reached for your arms to pull you away, but you jerked out of their hold. 

“You have five minutes. If you’ve got something to tell me, now’s the time to do it, Princess.”

Bucky didn’t usually use your nickname when he was angry. But then again, when he did, you knew he was angry. Except, he didn’t get to be angry right then. It was your turn to be pissed.

“That’s it? That’s all you have to say!?” You cried, throwing your hands up. “What day is it, James?”

The use of his first name caught his attention and he narrowed his eyes. “Wednesday. And like every Wednesday, I have meetings. Meetings, by the way, that help protect you. So if you have anything else -”

“Fuck your meetings!”

“Are you looking for a fight?” Bucky stood up, his blue eyes never leaving you, threatening your very existence. “I don’t appreciate being -”

“Yeah! I fucking am! Fight me, you big bitch!” You cried, as you reached over and grabbed his phone, throwing it at him. “Come on, fight me!” Sam and Steve exchanged looks, worried for your safety, but afraid to intervene at this point and risk retribution from Bucky. “Y/N…” Steve said slowly, quietly. “Come on, let’s go back -”

“You stay the fuck out of this, Rogers!” You turn to Steve, shoving him hard. “And you, too, Wilson! I’ll get to you when I’m done with this bastard!”

“That’s enough!” Bucky hollered, stepping around his desk and grabbing you by the arm. “Rogers, Wilson. Out!”

The two scurried from the room as fast as they could as you turned back to Bucky, throwing a punch at him the way Natasha had shown you during your self defense practices Bucky had insisted you take with her every Monday, Wednesday, and Friday. It hit Bucky in the chest, hard enough that he felt it, but not hard enough to make him drop your arm.

“What is wrong with you!?” Bucky yelled, pulling you closer by the arm. “You want to fight!? Or do you want me to punish you!?” He tugged on your arm again, pulling you closer to his desk. “Be a good girl, then, and bend over the desk!” His mental hand pushed between your shoulder blades, forcing you face down onto his desk as he moved to stand behind you, ripping your leggings down the seams to reveal the soft pink panties you threw on just to piss him off more.

“I’ve told you once, I’ll tell you a thousand times, you don’t wear underwear - or pants - in the house!” He pulled the band to your panties back and allowed them to snap your lower back. “Now, you’ve interrupted my meeting, you broke my phone, you yelled at me and called me names in front of my men, you wore panties and pants, and you’re being an absolute brat right now. Usually that would be ten spankings for each rule broken, but that would be 70 swats. Can you take that?” He growled, pulling back just enough to pull the shredded remains of your leggings and your cotton panties off of you and threw them into the fireplace. His mental hand went right back to your shoulder blades, keeping you in place on the desk. 

“Fuck you and your stupid rules!” You grunted as you tried to move under him, trying to get any leverage. “I’m still pissed at you!”

“And you won’t tell me why!” He yelled, pulling his hand back and slapping your ass hard. “That’s one, the next 79 you’re counting!”

“79!? You said 70 total!” You turned your head to glare at him.

“You know the rules, 10 for each rule broken. Are you *trying* to get to 100!? Because you’re now at 90.” He smirked, knowing exactly what this did to you.

You growled, turning your head away from him. “Fuck you and fuck your rules. You don’t own me.”

“100.” He landed another hard slap on your other cheek. “Count or I’ll add 10 more for each one you forget to count.”

You cursed, gripping the edge of the desk as hard as you could. “Two,” you hissed out, hating that you’re already turned on by this. You were supposed to be mad at him!

“That’s my good girl. I know you’re in there somewhere, Princess.”

Before you can respond, he lands three sharp slaps to your rear that has you pushing up onto the desk with each hit.

“Three-four-five!” You counted before you could forget. The most Bucky has ever handed you was 70 at one time. You weren’t sure you would survive 100. 

“Jesus, look at you,” Bucky laughed. “Just five in and you’re dripping. My god, you’re a slut.” he dipped his hand between your legs, running one of his fingers through your folds and scooping up some of your excitement.

You whimper, your walls clenching around nothing. This was going to be torture, but fuck if it didn’t turn you on. 

“This what you wanted, Princess?” He asked, spreading your lips and pushing a finger into you, causing you to gasp and rock your hips back to get some friction. “You just wanted Daddy’s attention? Well, you got it now. You have my full. Attention.” He pulls the finger out and immediately lands the next five smacks on your ass and thighs.

You count, tears already falling down your face. “Daddy -”

“Nuh-uh. Bad girls don’t get to talk. They just count.” The next ten came quickly, one after the other, quick succession in a rhythm only Bucky follows.

You’ve started shifting on your feet, trying hard to press your thighs together to get some relief of the tingling sensation between your legs as he pauses then, staring at your ass. You lick your lips and take the brief pause to close your eyes and stretch your fingers, knowing that it’s only going to get worse. 20 in, and you’re ready to beg forgiveness - not that it would help. Bucky always forgives you. But he never backs off or decreases your punishments.

You’ve just managed to get your legs together and get some relief, a short moan escaping your lips before Bucky is kicking your legs apart and thrusting three of his metal fingers deep into you.

You cry out, clawing at the desk to pull away, despite how good it feels to finally be filled with something. “FUCK! BUCKY!” you cried, pushing back onto his fingers as he brutally thrusts them in and out of you for a few moments before they’re gone again and Bucky’s shirt is shoved into your mouth, tied up with the discarded tie you aren’t sure when he removed.

“I told you! Only good girls get to talk!” He hissed, giving your ass yet another smack. “Now I  have to count. And you know what that means?”

You did. Fuck you knew exactly what that meant, and you started crying. Now not only are you going to get your 100 spankings, you weren’t allowed to cum. And goddamnit, it was your birthday. It wasn’t fair!

“Keep it up, Princess, and you’ll be my personal cumbucket for a month with no release in sight. Go ahead, try me.” He taunted before he grabbed the riding crop from his desk. When did that get there? Had it been there the whole time?

“Don’t think this means you’re getting off easy.”

You wanted to roll your eyes. The riding crop was never ‘getting off easy’. It just meant Bucky wanted to save his palm from stinging too much during longer sessions. It also meant he had even more planned for you.

Fuck me.

The next thirty came swift, and you were positive you weren’t going to be able to sit down for the next week. Bucky would stop every 10-20 strokes to tease you more. He would circle your clit with his metal hand, bringing you so close to pleasure then pulling back and giving you another 10 spanks. Or he would finger you until you were sobbing then pull out and give you another 15.

At 60 he stopped longer, pulling his pants down and shoving his thick cock into you as fast and hard as he could, moaning filth and obscenities in your ear as he fucked you hard and fast, cumming in you before you could get there yourself. He stayed there, deep in you, pulsing, for a good five minutes then.

“That’s it, Princess,” he growled. “Take daddy’s cum. Gonna fucking breed you. Stuff you full of children and keep you pregnant. Fuck - God you’d look amazing with my baby inside you. You want that, Princess? You want Daddy’s baby? I’ll give it to you, you filthy slut.” he bit your shoulder, hard, before pulling out and giving you another 10 hard spanks with the riding crop that had you sobbing harder, your tears leaving a pool beneath your face on the desk that not even Bucky’s shirt and tie could soak up.

“That’s 70, baby. You’ve never done more than this.” He says, like you didn’t already fucking know that. “Just 30 more. You can do it.”

You wanted to scream at him. Hurl insults and yell at him to fuck off, but all you got out was another wimper as the next 5 came suddenly, hitting down your thighs almost to your knees.

If it wasn’t for the desk, you were sure you would have collapsed by now. 25 more seemed impossible. You were aching everywhere, and you thought you were bleeding. You couldn’t be sure. Bucky hadn’t said anything, but you wouldn’t put it past him. 

You almost didn’t feel the next 15, the ache in your ass almost overriding the sensation of more spacks, but the final 10 you definitely felt.

Bucky had shifted, apparently sensing that you were no longer feeling the hits on your ass, and was now swinging underhanded, bringing the crop up to your pussy and clit. Each new smack had you screaming harder, tears streaming down your face like a waterfall. It was torture. Pleasureful torture. 

You sobbed in relief when Bucky said the magic number - “100.”

But it was cut short when he grabbed you by the waist, flipped you over and laid you out on the desk, his head diving between your legs to eat you out like a starving man.

You tried to shove him away, but his metal arm grabbed both of your wrists and held them to your stomach, preventing you from moving or pushing him away.

Your overly sensitive core was attacked by Bucky’s wicked tongue, bringing you to another almost orgasm before he pulled away again. Wiping his mouth on the back of his hand, he reached around and pulled the gag off of you, eyebrows raised.

“Now. Are you going to tell me why you were being such a brat?” He asks nonchalantly.

You sniffled, wiping your own face - tears, snot, and slobber - off with your shirt before shoving him lightly, most of your fight gone.

“You forgot my birthday.” You muttered.

Bucky took a step back, frowning. “What?” he asks, looking over to his date book. “No I didn’t - oh fuck…”

You wiped at your eyes again, nodding and you attempted to sit up. “Yeah. You did. You promised you’d never forget! You swore you’d make me feel special every birthday…”

“Fuck, Princess,” He hurried to his bar and grabbed you a cold bottle of water and hurried back to you, opening it before handing it over. “I’m - Fuck, I can’t believe I forgot.”

Taking the water bottle, you took a small sip before Bucky was moving again, grabbing the baby wipes he kept in his drawer and cleaning you up gently before pulling you into his lap as he sat down in his chair again.

“I’m so sorry,” Bucky murmured, kissing your forehead. “I’ll make it up to you. Where do you wanna go? Anywhere. Anywhere at all. We’ll go for a whole month.”

“The bedroom?” You glance at him. “I would have understood if you had just told me that you were busy and we wouldn’t get to celebrate this year. But you swore to never forget.”

“I know I did. And I’m so sorry, Princess. I’ve just had so much on my plate. It’s no excuse and I’ll still make it up to you. Starting with - your punishment is over. How about we go take a nice hot bath and calm down… and then have some fun all night?”

“I don’t think I can feel my legs.”

Bucky shifted you on his lap and held you close. “I’ll carry you, Princess. I’ll carry you anywhere you want to go.”

Ope.

~*~ Fin ~*~

#birdiesicecreamshop #birdies birthday bash #bucky barnes smut #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes #fanfiction #bucky/reader #bucky x reader #bucky fanfic #nc 17 #smut #Mob!Bucky #Mafia!Bucky #mob boss!bucky #Dark!Bucky #dark!bucky barnes #dark!bucky smut #dark!bucky x y/n #dark!bucky x you #dark!bucky x reader

[itwoodbeprefect]

i was tagged by @luredin to list 7 comfort films and tag 7 people, and also, longer ago, by @goneahead to post a top 4 of comfort movies, so i'm going to go with seven because it's More and when it comes to movies i'm going to need More. thank you both for the tag!! 💖

shelter (2007) - top 1 comfort movie maybe. it's just Vibes.

buchanan rides alone (1958) - for what it is i've perhaps seen this more times than any person should but "very dear to me" is one of those previously mentioned things that it is, so that's alright.

10 things i hate about you (1999) - the classic! ironically one of the newer movies on this list but it's The Classic to me.

the electric horseman (1979) - robert redford saves a horse and jane fonda is the real hero for walking! in! those! boots! and hey. soft animal activism cowboy/reporter romance what more could the heart want.

zachariah (1971) - queerness and anti-violence and cowboys and music and those darned Vibes again. they get me every time!

hard core logo (1996) - look. this is objectively not a very comforting movie. i know this. but it's catharsis and Feelings and by now deeply familiar fucked up people and that IS comforting (to me).

wilby wonderful (2004) - i am. not currently coherent about this one. check back in a year or so.

i'll try to tag some people who i haven't seen in connection with this game yet, but i'm mostly guessing: @littlestarsailor @beansterpie @smileylover99 @flownwrong @batvreason @eg515 @spaceradars ✨

zero pressure of course!

#i guess i like 1) westerns 2) romantic movies that gently vibe 3) romantic westerns that gently vibe #and going by 6+7 maybe also 4) canadian movies. but i couldn't tell you if that bears out statistically outside of this post #and oooh if i had more spots we would absolutely be getting into 20s-60s romcoms but i don't have those spots so i have to just say. #there should be at least one here probably. but if i add one i have to take another movie out and i can't face that kind of pressure #* #tag stuff

[sjsmith56]

The Last Time - Chapter 38, Lord Buchanan

Summary: King David joins the battle, knowing that today is his last. Buchanan is severely injured and must transform into his wolf to survive.

Length: 4.6 K

Warnings: Graphic description of battle, including death of a character, and severe injury of another character.

Author’s notes: Although this chapter is written mostly from the viewpoint of King David, it also is meant to emphasize his admiration of Lord Buchanan.

<<Chapter 37

🗡️ ⚔️

One month later.

King David rose from his cot in the small room next to the command centre. He looked at his arm, noticing the blackness had extended down to his hand and over his shoulder. Next to his cot was the draught for the pain and he downed it, knowing it would do little for the intensity. If the original shot had hit the target in his chest it would have killed him within days but taking it in the arm had slowed the process. Regardless, once the blackness descended from the shoulder into his chest he was done for. He cursed Duke John Walker once more for the treachery of his betrayal. At the washing station he threw water onto his face and dried it off with a cloth. Gingerly he pulled his singlet on, then his tunic and breeches. He looked at the reinforced vest, strong enough to deflect arrows. Instead of it he would wear a regular vest, one with his crest on it, and carefully put it on, followed by the jacket. The circle of stars on the patch on the left side drew a smirk. It looked just like a target. That's probably where the marksman had aimed his poisoned shot on that day when he was first hit. Well, today he would make himself a target. Today was the day he chose to die.

Opening the door he could see the command centre was already bustling. Fury was at the map table plotting out where the assorted companies would ride out to. They had succeeded in reclaiming much of Amarillo since the arrival of the 1900 strong army of his son. His son, whose youth had been wasted by insolence and no sense of purpose had turned into a rallying point even for his troops. His youth was evident, but so was his heart and natural leadership. It had been the right decision to send him with Buchanan and his gratitude to the man could never be paid back in his mind. Once Quin was king he could bring in the many changes needed to make their part of the world a better place. They had spoken often of his father’s hopes for the Kingdom of the Western Plains, hopes that included a major change to how it would be ruled.

Inside the mess hall, he found several lords helping themselves to some food. Most saluted him and he nodded back then wondered why they were here and not with their men. Ever since Lord Buchanan and Quin arrived, then immediately joined their men he had openly spoken about the need to be on the battlefield with their companies. Fury only stayed to be with him and make sure he functioned but his own son was out there with his soldiers taking on his father's role. These few men stuffing their faces had never ventured outside of the castle except to visit the brothel.

"Out, all of you," he ordered. "Go to your men, see to their needs before your own. No wonder we're at a stalemate. Go!"

They scattered and he was left alone. He winced as he felt pain below his armpit and then it suddenly staggered him, making him gasp as he struggled to breathe. An arm came around his waist and he was helped into a chair. Fury's face came into view as he kneeled before his king.

"Your Majesty, have you taken your pain draught yet?" he asked, his face full of concern.

King David nodded then the pain eased and he was able to talk. "As soon as I rose but its effect is uneven," he said then his voice rose in anger. "Why are these leeches in here eating my food and drinking my ale? Why aren't they out in the field with their men? How are we supposed to defeat John if these fools don't command their troops?"

Fury said nothing, knowing the pain was directing many of the King's words, valid as they were. "Is today the day then?" he finally asked, noticing the King was wearing a regular vest and not the reinforced one.

"Today is the day," said the King. "The blackness covers my shoulder and that last jab of pain was under the armpit. I won't die screaming, restrained in a bed. It will be on the battlefield. My right hand still works and it will be holding a sword when I draw my last breath."

"Alright," said Fury. "Then I will accompany you. Which company?"

"My son's," said the King. "I want to fight alongside him for my last battle." He stopped talking for a moment then looked his friend in the eye. "He has surpassed all of my expectations, Nicholas. I am so proud of him."

"We all are, Your Majesty," said Fury, with a tremor of emotion in his throat. "I wish I could have influenced him like Buchanan has done. The day he came to these lands was the day that changed everything."

"He is noble born," said the King. "I say that knowing he was a farmer's son. True nobility was in his blood even then. Like you, my dear friend."

"David ... my King," said Fury, struggling to speak. "I promise to be a true counsel for the Prince. He will always have my fealty."

Fury wiped the tears that had escaped from his eyes then stood up and straightened his clothes. He brought a plate of food for the King then left the mess room, closing the door behind him. The King could hear Fury ordering the lords out in the command room to get out to their forces and be on the battlefield, this day of all days. He looked at the plate of food in front of him and put it aside. He wasn't hungry. Reaching into his jacket he pulled out a large locket containing the cameo portrait of Camila, given to him on the day he agreed to the marriage. It had stayed in a drawer until the day he sent his mistresses away and begged her forgiveness.

"My wife," he whispered. "I am so sorry I didn't realize the treasure you were until it was almost too late. I have written a letter to be given to you upon your return after my death. For a small time, at least, I loved you as you deserved to be loved. You were ever steadfast in your love and support of me and I can never repay that. Be a good counsel to our son. He is a much better man than I ever was."

He kissed her image and closed the locket placing it back inside the left inner pocket of his jacket. Then he stood up, straightened his clothes and took a deep breath, daring the pain to jab at him again. The pain draught had finally taken hold and he felt better so he went to the door, opened it and nodded at Fury. The man in black nodded back, instructing one of the aides to take over monitoring the maps and positions of the various forces. Both men went out to the courtyard where their horses and the King's Guard waited. King David took it all in after he mounted his horse. The bright morning, the sound of birds all around him, as many seemed to have flocked to the castle for safety. Then he looked at the castle, his birthplace and the birthplace of the kings before him except the first one, an Air Force general before the calamity who had taken charge when the bedraggled survivors had come to the base begging for help. He had fought off bandits, looters, and armed gangs with the remaining soldiers on the base. His diary had documented the struggles of those early days. He didn't call himself a king but the people he saved had referred to him as one. When he died they convinced his son to take the title and offered their fealty to him in exchange for his protection. Quin would be the last king. They had already spoken about it, turning the kingdom into a republic where every man and woman was equal at birth. They would elect people to govern them and would ensure that no one would be homeless, no one uneducated and no one forced into servitude.

"Your Majesty?" Fury's words cut through the King's reverie. "Shall we go?"

King David smiled and nodded, turning his gaze away from the castle and riding out of the courtyard for the last time. Riding into the morning sun with his best friend, King David William George Walker felt alive, on this, the last day of his life.

They reached the edge of the battlefield less than an hour later. Buchanan and Quin were in their command tent with their commanders and sub commanders. Their numbers had lessened a little as their force had shrunken due to casualties but their force had done better than many of the others. As the King and Fury strode into the tent there was a call to attention which he waved off immediately.

"Your Majesty," said Quin. "Do you join us on the battlefield today?"

"Yes, that's my plan," he said, smiling. "I have heard many stories of the bravery of these troops that I wanted to see it for myself. Go on with your briefing. We will watch and listen in."

Buchanan's look lingered a little longer and the King knew that the man had likely figured out why he was there. He nodded grimly at the man and Buchanan nodded back, just as grimly. What he wouldn't give for more men like him. Truly, Buchanan and Fury together could take on the lawless ones in their lands and be victorious. Buchanan returned to the mission at hand and assigned the four units their positions. The archers were to position themselves in camouflaged locations and with an Oklahoman sharpshooter paired with them look for snipers and take them out by either bow or carbine. Buchanan and the Prince would shuttle between all four units, always in communication with them.

"Everyone clear?" asked Buchanan. "Go, see quickly to your breakfast and your horses. It is a cloudless day, so make sure you have your water supply secured. Good hunting."

The briefing ended and Buchanan extended his arm to both Fury and the King, receiving theirs in turn. They stepped out into the morning light and Buchanan turned to the King.

"Have you eaten yet, your Majesty?" he asked. "Our mess cook found some wild chickens and has kept us stocked with fresh eggs."

"I have, thank you," replied King David. "Please feed yourself. Don't let us stop you."

They went to the mess tent where both Buchanan and Quin grabbed fried egg sandwiches, eating them while standing. Both washed them down with a cup of strong coffee, made from freshly ground beans.

"I liked coffee well enough," commented Buchanan. "But freshly ground coffee is another experience entirely. You need to work on a way to preserve that freshness in your exports."

King David laughed. "I'll get my coffee men working on it," he said.

Both Buchanan and Quin smiled, knowing that his coffee men was a single man, a former dresser named Jose. His sole task in this war was to preserve the coffee plantation that had been started as part of the marriage arrangement with Isabella. So far, he had proved his knowledge was as good as his claims, the plants he had painstakingly smuggled out of the lawless lands had thrived in the land he cultivated for them, producing a high quality bean that produced a rich brew. Finishing their second cup each, both men put their cups down and pulled their gloves on, ready to mount their horses.

All four men, the King, Fury, Buchanan and Quin, mounted and began the ride to the farthest position where Buchanan's men had already taken their posts. Coulson saluted as the King asked him about his men.

"Almost all new recruits, your Majesty," he replied. "We worked them hard back in our kingdom and they have come through well. I would put them up against any force of battle hardened veterans. They keep me hopping for they are still full of the vigour of their youth. Practical jokes are played often but I let it ride as it relieves the tension for them." His attention was diverted elsewhere for a moment. "Liam! Have some decorum, man. There's a king here!"

They all looked to where he was yelling and Quin sniggered seeing his friend Liam standing on his horse mooning his comrades. Liam noticed who was watching and pulled his breeches up, then waved at them. Even the King smiled, remembering some of the pranks of his youth.

"I'm so sorry, your Majesty," sputtered Coulson. "I'll make sure he's disciplined."

The King waved it off and laughed outright. "To be that young, and full of piss and vinegar," he said. "I envy the boy that he can still make people laugh in the middle of a battlefield. Leave him be."

A single shot from the other side signalled the beginning of hostilities and suddenly all the soldiers, Liam included, were all business, facing towards the other side while drawing their swords. Coulson raced forward, and began calling out commands as they began advancing. Suddenly the tension ratcheted up and Coulson gave the command to attack. The King watched, impressed with the recruits, agreeing they could go up against a veteran unit anytime. He turned back to Buchanan.

"That's a good commander you have there," he said. "He has good control of his soldiers in battle."

"He is commander of Isabella's garrison," said Quin. "He came to protect her investment, in me."

The King laughed again. "Will he stay with her or the new lord?" he asked. "He would fit in well here."

"We haven't discussed it," said Quin. "But I have thought of it. I didn't think he liked me very much when I first started courting her. I think I've grown on him."

"Discuss it," he said. "You will need men like him when you become King."

"That will be some time, your Majesty," said Quin. "He may wish to stay in the Broken Lands in the interim."

"Of course," replied the King, realizing he had almost said too much. "Well, shall we go on to the next unit? Coulson has good control here."

They rode on to the next unit, the Oklahomans, under the command of Waya. It had taken them less than three days to vanquish the lawless ones from their siege of the garrison in Lubbock. They had then returned to the palace and had flanked the force positioned to the southeast of the palace. Under two fronts of attack the Duke's men had quickly surrendered. When he had been introduced to the king after that battle Waya had stood proud and tall.

"David Walker," he said, extending his forearm to the King. "Greetings from the Oklahoma tribes. I am Waya, Chief of the Cherokee Nation and Head Chief of the council for all Oklahoma tribes. We bring 400 to the fight against a man who would be a tyrant. When this war is over we look forward to opening diplomatic relations with your kingdom."

"Chief Waya," replied the King, taking the man's forearm into his own. "Thank you. The reputation of the Oklahoman tribes is well known in these parts. Your quick victory over the lawless ones is proof of the excellence of your warriors. It would be my pleasure to begin formal relations with your territory. Rest assured that under my watch and my son's after me there will be no movement against your people. You have my word as a king and a soldier."

That day was one of the proudest moments of Quin's life when his father acknowledged the importance of their participation. As he thought of that day he saw Waya approaching the party to greet them on this morning.

"Your Majesty," called out the chief. "You honour us, sir. We have already advanced a considerable distance and should take the objective by the noon hour. I have reports that our sharpshooters, along with Sir Archer's bowmen and bow-women have taken out over a dozen snipers. We'll get them all, I swear to you."

"Very good, sir," replied the King. "Carry on, Chief. You need no instruction or encouragement from me. You know what you're doing."

Waya returned to his warriors and the royal party watched for some time before leaving and moving on to the next unit. As they approached it became necessary to remove their swords as the opposing force was large and aggressive at this point. The King ordered one of his guardsmen to ride to his main force some distance away and request 100 men. He gave him a token from inside his jacket as proof the order came from him. Then he and the others joined the fray fighting back against soldiers that Quin recognized with a moment of shame as allied with his mother's kinsmen, as they wore the patch of the tarantula spider. As he slashed and slew any who attacked him he fought with a fury he hadn't felt before. When the reinforcements arrived and the royal party was able to retreat their swords dripped with blood and each man took a rag from their saddle bags to wipe the red that dripped from their blades before sheathing them. The King noticed the look on Quin's face.

"Do not give them a second thought, Quin," he said. "It disgusted your mother that they should turn on her and you, and support that usurper. They received their just reward on this day. When you ... we take their lords as prisoner they will pay with their life and livelihood."

They rode on to the next unit which was under the command of Bren who rode back to them but kept close eye on his men.

"I'm sorry Your Majesty," he said apologetically. "I can only spare a moment. This unit is most aggressive and we have our hands full." He looked to the field and yelled. "Stone, close that breach, man." He turned back to the party. "Sorry, I have to get back."

He raced back to his men and the King nodded at Fury indicating that his fate would be decided here. Drawing his sword he followed closely behind Bren. Everyone else drew their swords, following him into the battle. Once again they were in the thick of it and were soon swinging their swords at anyone who approached them wearing the opposing force's patch. At one point Buchanan and the King were fighting alongside each other hacking and slashing at the enemy. For a moment they looked to be overwhelmed but both men prevailed and cleared the space around them. They had a moment to smile at each other then Buchanan saw the King's face change from smiling to surprise while the bloom of blood spread over his chest. The King fell off of his horse as Buchanan yelled for help. Dismounting quickly he placed himself over the King protecting him from further harm. Quin, who had seen it happen cried out for a medic and rode to his father, jumping off the horse and coming to his side. His father, whose face was already ashen looked at his son with a fond smile.

"Don't weep, Quin," he said weakly. "I chose today for this. Fury will explain. Just know that at the end I loved your mother, and your sisters, and most of all, you. You will be a great king and you will defeat John Walker. Of that I am sure." The King coughed and blood spray came out as he did. Then he spoke his final words. "The King is dead. God save the King."

He gave one more cough then his eyes stayed open but he breathed no more. Quin bent his head to his father's face and kissed him, then stood up with his sword in his hand and yelled, enraged at the opposing force. Buchanan yelled at him to get back on his horse and Quin whirled, ready to strike him but when he saw who it was he mounted. Buchanan went to mount his horse and hesitated with his foot in the stirrup. At that moment he felt a blinding pain in the back of his left shoulder and almost fell off. Quin, noticing the blood on Buchanan's back grabbed his arm and helped him onto Magnus. Buchanan was hunched over, losing blood quickly. Quin looked around desperately for someone to take him from the field, finally spotting a familiar dark haired soldier riding towards them and called to him.

"Tom!" he yelled. "You must get Buchanan to the hospital. He was shot in the shoulder and I fear it has struck an artery. He could bleed out. Quick man, get him to a doctor."

Tom took Magnus' reins and began to lead Buchanan away but although he went towards the castle he didn't go to the courtyard. He went in the other direction near where the tunnel was that they came through when they first arrived.

"Tom," wheezed Buchanan, for the bullet had pierced his lung. "Take me to a doctor, now."

"No, M’Lord," said Tom. "I was given strict instructions by the Sorceress to bring you here. It is your only chance to live and you must live or else all will be lost."

"Is that why you disobeyed my order to stay with your mistress and look after her?" Buchanan eyed him darkly. "Damn you for leaving her."

"Go ahead and damn me, sir," replied Tom, tying the horses to a small group of trees. "If you die, Lady Buchanan would die from losing you so I had no choice but to follow the orders given me. Now, let me help you off."

Buchanan had lost the use of the arm on the side where the bullet had shattered his shoulder. He held on with his good hand while he tried to slide off but he still ended up falling onto the ground as Tom was much smaller than him and couldn't support his weight. The young man dragged him into the trees and began to undress Buchanan.

"What are you doing, man?" snarled Buchanan. "Stripping me of my belongings before I'm even dead?"

"No sir," protested Tom, his eyes watering as he struggled to explain. "You have to transform into your wolf, sir! It is the only way you will live from this injury. There is poison in the bullet but the wolf is immune to it. By the time you reach home as your wolf the effects of the poison will be dissipated and you can be healed of the physical injuries. But you must change quickly before it is too late then you must make the journey home, alone."

Awareness appeared in Buchanan's eyes and he allowed Tom to disrobe him. Tom saw the wound on the back had already started to turn black, hoping he had convinced his lord soon enough to transform. Struggling to stand, Buchanan waved Tom away and calmed himself. Then he envisioned himself as the white wolf and Tom watched in a combination of fascination and fear as his lord became the large white beast. His left shoulder still bore the wound and he limped when he walked but his eyes were full of understanding as he approached Tom, lifting his paw to the young man.

"Go through the tunnel and follow the path home," said Tom. "If the Sorceress is correct this war should be over any day and we will arrive home before you. You can discipline me when you transform after. I'm sorry to have disobeyed you but your life means everything to our kingdom."

The wolf whined but he looked Tom in the eye once more, turned around and began trotting towards the tunnel. Just before he entered it he looked at Tom one more time and disappeared into the darkness of the tunnel. Tom packed up Buchanan's clothes, noticing the jewelled crucifix, thinking of the one he gave Beth, then placed the bundle in Magnus' saddlebags. He untied the horses from the trees, mounted his horse and rode towards Bren to give himself up. Bren, Quin and Fury turned to Tom as he approached with Magnus.

"Where is Lord Buchanan?" demanded Quin. "Why are you not with him in the infirmary?"

"I didn't take him," replied Tom. "The bullet was poisoned, like the bullet that was killing the King before he chose to fall in battle. Lord Fury knows of what I speak. The white wolf is immune to the poison so I took Lord Buchanan to a quiet place so he could transform. He still has the physical injury but if he can make it home he will survive and become Lord Buchanan again."

"Who told you of all this?" asked Bren, sternly.

"The Sorceress," said Tom. "It is why I begged to come as it was my destiny to save him. I offer myself for arrest for disobeying orders."

Quin turned to Fury. "It is true," said Fury. "The bullet that hit your father before your arrival had a poison in it with no antidote. It was slowly killing him. This morning he noticed the black flesh had spread to his shoulder and the pain to his side. He made the decision to die in battle today and he fulfilled that. If Buchanan can survive by being his wolf then he should take that path instead."

"But I have no general now," said Quin, his voice quivering. "I have lost my father and my general within minutes of each other."

Fury drew himself to his full height in the saddle. "Do you think so little of me King Arthur?" he asked. "I pledged my allegiance to your grandfather, and your father. Now I pledge it to you. Together we will defeat that bastard John Walker and you can begin the changes your father envisioned and shared with you. Are you ready to be the last king of the Western Plains?"

Quin looked at Fury then set his jaw firmly. "Yes, I am King, the last King," he replied. "We will contact Buchanan's castle with the ham radio and advise them of my father's death and Buchanan's transformation. Lady Buchanan deserves to know that much. Then call in all lords, commanders and sub commanders this evening for my father's funeral, my coronation and a briefing. Tomorrow we throw everything we have at John Walker and we finish him for good. I will not go through another day losing good men to that traitor."

Fury nodded and put his hand out for Magnus saying he would make sure the horse made it to the stables. "Stick to the plan for today," he said to Quin. "Visit your men, and they are all your men, now. The King's Guard are yours. I return to the castle to come up with a plan to take tomorrow's battle and the war. We will have a burial and a coronation tonight, Your Majesty."

He bowed, then rode with Magnus and the King's horse, upon which the King's body had been fastened. Quin turned to Bren and Tom. He nodded at them both and began riding to the next unit, as a good king should. Bren studied Tom for several long moments then turned back to the battle with his sword in hand. Pulling his own sword out of its scabbard, Tom joined him and rode into the fray.

Chapter 39>>

Series Masterlist

Please support the author by reblogging.

#bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes #buckybarnes original female character #medieval bucky #bucky barnes au #james buchanan barnes au #nick fury au #joaquin torres #the king is dead #treachery

[james-vi-stan-blog]

I’m sorry if you answered a similar question like this but was there any terrible or traumatic experiences/events King James went through?

Yeah, so, James's life was basically nonstop trauma from the age of negative 3 months to the age of 20.

Unfortunately I don't have a lot of time today but I can come back later and make a post with double-checked dates and links. But just going off of memory here are some highlights (ages may be wrong):

His mother Mary QOS claims a gun was pointed at her belly during the assassination of David Rizzio when she was pregnant with James

His father was murdered, his mother exiled, and he never saw her again after the age of 15 months

As a 1-year-old baby king Scotland fell into a civil war between "his" forces and his mother's

He was raised isolated and lonely in Stirling Castle mostly by grim Presbyterians (not completely locked up alone, but he later spoke of this time as lonely, I rambled about this before, cn: Esmé Stewart) who attempted to brainwash him against Mary QOS (I rambled about this AT LENGTH before)

He was so harshly disciplined/beaten by George Buchanan that he had PTSD symptoms as an adult

He seems to have had developmental problems such as delayed speech and walking, which were probably... not treated sympathetically. He was probably physically disabled though there are dozens of different modern diagnoses that have been offered.

3/4 of his childhood regents were murdered as part of the civil war and/or political feuding. First, his uncle. Then, his grandfather, who was carried bleeding into Stirling castle and died in front of 5 year old James's eyes. Then, the Earl of Mar, who was James's custodian/foster-father, was probably poisoned (James=6).

When James was 11, one of his childhood friends (who was then 20 - he was a bit older than James), pushed by the then-regent Morton, led an armed attack on Stirling Castle to try to take custody of James by force. The Master of Mar, father of his other childhood friend (Thomas Erskine, same age as James) had to take up a halberd and physically protect James from the attackers. James at one point thought the Master of Mar had been killed in front of his eyes. He wasn't, but Thomas Erskine's older brother really was killed.

When James is 13 he looks around at this shitty situation and says "nope", proclaims himself an adult ruler, meets and then immediately falls in love with his 37-year-old cousin Esmé Stewart. (The main subject of this earlier ramble) Probably not good for James's emotional development.

When James is 15 he executes the last of his childhood regents, Morton, probably convinced by Esmé Stewart that the guy had a hand in the murder of his father Lord Darnley. So 4/4 of James VI's regents met sticky ends.

When James is 16 his anti-Catholic nobles, who hate Esmé Stewart, kidnap James and hold him hostage, treating him badly. Esmé Stewart has to flee Scotland and dies in France and James never really recovers from this.

When James is 17 he escapes and rules surrounded by various allies including Catholic nobles. When James is 19 though the kidnappers from before come back to Scotland funded by Elizabeth and take over again.

I think I've forgotten some incidents, like I think he might have almost died once already by this point, but I don't remember the details.

After this point, though, James actually is an adult ruler who can hold his own in politics. So, like, wild backstabbings, betrayals by loved ones, war, etc., but James was more effectively able to ride the political waves and gave as good as he got, so it's not the same level of "helpless kid bashed around by politics".

So......... yeah. A bit of trauma. It's really no wonder he turned out like he did in a lot of ways.

#james vi and i #james's weird stan rambles again #james's trauma conga #no royals really had happy childhoods but james REALLY stands out #content note #tw child abuse #tw csa #tw grooming #tw death #tw trauma #tw murder #probably more but i can't think of them

[forget-you-morelike-fuck-you]

The Soldier's Nurse

I admit it, this is kind of evil. I just couldn't help it.

Y/N has been Bucky's favorite nurse for a long time. They finally get each other alone.

Masterlist

TW- 18+ MINORS DNI, protected smut, cursing, mentions of masturbation, innuendo, dirty talk, a little angst at the end

Pairing- Bucky Barnes x Reader

Word Count- 1,363

(Gif not mine! Credit to the owner!)

When you start your job as a nurse, you know attachments are a bad idea. You know it’ll only break you if you find yourself gravitating toward someone, only to have them ripped away in the midst of battle. But you can’t help it. Not when you see him.

Sargeant James Buchanan Barnes is everything you ever dreamed of. Everything you’ve ever wanted in a man. Tall, handsome, smart, funny, kind… and amazing in bed. You grew acquainted through his many visits to the infirmary. You’ve tended to concussions, scrapes, bruises so regularly, by the time you finally pounce on each other one night after your shift, you know his body almost as well as he does.

You let your hands wander up his chest, both of you tucked into an empty exam room, illuminated only by a small lamp in the opposite corner. You know it’s against the rules to engage with any of the soldiers, but Bucky is so irresistible you didn’t really have any choice in the matter. His mouth is pressing hot kisses to your neck, and you let out soft moans as he travels down to your shoulder, pushing your tidy uniform out of the way.

“God, Bucky…” You breathe. You’re doing your best not to make any noise as to not be caught. His shirt has already been discarded, his dog tags cool against your hand as you snake your hand around his neck.

“What is it, doll? You want me to stop?” He whispers teasingly. You shake your head.

“No, no. Please, I just- I need more.” You press wanton kisses to his shoulder, biting softly as his hands travel down to your ass, pulling your skirt up to better feel you. He moves his lips across your face, finally meeting your lips again.

“Don’t worry, Y/N, I’ll give you more.” You gasp as he gives your ass a light smack before massaging it in his large hands. “Wanna take these off for me?” You moan lightly as you nod, not wanting to waste time. You pull down your pantyhose and underwear, having kicked your kitten heels off as soon as the door clicked closed behind the two of you.

Bucky deals with the buttons at the top of your dress, pushing the sleeves off your shoulders as you stand. You reach for his belt as he cups your hands in his face, kissing you deeply, his teeth just grazing your lower lip. You both moan into the kiss, and your hands finally get to his zipper, pulling it down and tugging on his rough canvas pants. He pulls away and helps you, letting his pants pool around his ankles before he grabs you by the hips again.

“Hold on, buttercup.” He flashes you a toothy grin before licking his lips. “This is gonna be one hell of a ride.” You can’t help the surprised yelp that escapes your lips as he picks you up. Your legs wrap around him, and he pushes your back to the wall to help keep you up. You can feel your wetness cooling in the open air as your hands go to his face, and he kisses you again while adjusting himself to your entrance.

You moan as he slowly slides into you, muffling the sound in his neck. “Shit, Bucky, you’re so big.” He stays still as you adjust to him, laughing lightly into your hair.

“Didn’t you already know that? You did give me that physical exam a few weeks ago.” He jokes, and you feel your face heat up as you remember. He, in typical Bucky fashion, flirted the entire time, getting you so heated you immediately had to excuse yourself to find a spot to relieve your tension. You bite your lip, wondering if he’d like to hear about it. As he begins moving in an out of you at a steady pace, you decide he probably wouldn’t mind the mental image.

“Yeah,” You moan breathily into his ear. “and as soon as you left I had to go to the barracks and touch myself.” He moans as he hears the languid words escape your lips. “I—mm, I couldn’t help myself. I just pictured us just like this.” His hands squeeze the bottom of your thighs and you let out a soft whine.

“Jesus, sweetheart. You tryin’ to make me cum already?” Your head falls back at his sinful whispers and you smile.

“You’d better not until you make me first!” You warn, and he laughs as he fucks up into you a bit harder, cutting off your sass with a deep moan.

“I don’t know, Y/N, with the way you feel… so fucking tight, and those dirty little words you’ve got coming out of that pretty mouth… I don’t know if I’ll be able to last.” You have to slap a hand over your mouth to catch your wanton sounds as he moves faster, panting lightly. He buries his face in your chest, and you put your other hand in his hair. He feels so good. You feel so full of him.

Bucky nips at the skin exposed at the top of your bra, making you whimper as you move the hand covering your mouth down, under your skirt to rub quick circles around your aching bud. “Fuck, that feel good, doll? You gonna help me make you cum?” Bucky moans, and you bite back sobs of pleasure as you nod.

“I just need… a little more.” Your breaths come shallow and shaking, the tension building to a peak until…

Bucky kisses you as you release, partly to help cover up your cries, but partly because the face you’re making is simply divine. He’s wanted you since the first time he met you and now that he has you, he never wants to let you go.

He fucks you through your orgasm, and soon you begin feeling his hips stutter as he nears his own release. You hold his face to your chest as he breaks, his grunts muffled by your warm skin as he fills the condom he wears with his seed. You both breathe laboriously for a couple of minutes after that, just kissing each other, all tongues and teeth as you both come down from your glorious highs. After that, he slips out of you, guiding you back to the ground before tying off the condom and throwing it into a nearby trashcan.

As you both dress, you ask, “So, when’s your next assignment?” He looks up at you as he shimmies his pants back up his hips. His brow furrows.

“Um, I’m leaving tomorrow with Captain America. We’ve got to go infiltrate a Hydra train in the Austrian Alps.” You nod, suddenly nervous. He notices as he looks back up to you, and he closes the space between you to lay a hand on your cheek, his bright blue eyes boring into yours. “Don’t look so worried, Y/N, I’ve always come back before, haven’t I?” You nod, but your lips still press into a thin line.

“Yeah, but it only takes just one second and then I’ll never see you again,” You whisper. Bucky brings his face down to yours in a long kiss, and when you pull away, he smiles softly.

“I don’t think there’s any way I’d ever let anything happen to make me not see you again.” He admits. You try to feel better, but there’s something in his demeanor that makes you not want to let go.

“Just… Just promise that this won’t be the only moment we have with each other, okay?” Your eyes are desperate. You just need to hear those words.

“I promise. Just you wait, in a couple of days I’ll be sitting back in your station waiting for you to patch me up again, okay?” You nod, reaching to kiss him once more.

“Okay,” You nod in acceptance.

You stagger your times leaving the room to make your wanton rule-breaking less noticeable.

The next few days, you run to your station at the beginning of your shift, hoping to see Bucky sitting, waiting for you like he promised.

He never is.

@reelovesbuckybarnes

#40s bucky #bucky barnes smut #bucky #bucky barnes fanfic #bucky barnes x reader #bucky x you #bucky x reader #bucky barnes #marvel #the winter solider x reader #james buchanan barnes #marvel fic #marvel fanfiction #marvel fanfic #captain america

[fvlgores]

━━   *     LEO  WOLFMEYER  was  one  of  those  present  at  the  buchanan  gala ,  and  has  landed  themselves  right  on  detective  perrier’s  list  of   person  of  interest .  during  the  initial  questioning ,  the  TWENTY-TWO  year  old  COLLEGE  STUDENT  said  they  were  at  the  party because  HIS  FAMILY  AND  THE  BUCHANANS  ARE  FRIENDS  AND  HE  WAS  INVITED .  first  impressions  show  them  to  be  both  CAPTIVATING  and  UNRULY ,  but  it  would  be  more  accurate  to  describe  them  as  boyish  grin  that  could  dismantle  empires ,  leaping  into  the  unknown  with  no  parachute ,  the  weight  of  an  unwanted  crown ,  a  hungry  mind  always  looking  for  knowledge ,  a  guilty  filled  cloud  constantly  following  you .  

*∘   ⸺   𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐒𝐓𝐈𝐂𝐒 .

ɴᴀᴍᴇ :  léopold  albert  oscar  marie  wolfmeyer .  ᴛɪᴛʟᴇ  :  his  royal  highness  prince  léopold  of  nassau .  ɴɪᴄᴋɴᴀᴍᴇs :  leo .  ᴀɢᴇ :  twenty-two .  ʙɪʀᴛʜᴅᴀᴛᴇ :  july  25 ,  1999 .  ʙɪʀᴛʜᴘʟᴀᴄᴇ :  luxembourg  city ,  luxembourg .  ɴᴀᴛɪᴏɴᴀʟɪᴛʏ :  luxembourgish  and  american .  ɢᴇɴᴅᴇʀ  &  ᴘʀᴏɴᴏᴜɴs :  cis  man  &  he/him .  ᴏʀɪᴇɴᴛᴀᴛɪᴏɴ :  bisexual .  ᴏᴄᴄᴜᴘᴀᴛɪᴏɴ :  college  student .  ʟᴀɴɢᴜᴀɢᴇs :  english ,  luxembourgish ,  french ,  german ,  italian ,  spanish .  ғᴀᴍɪʟʏ :  wanted  connection  ( father ) ,  wanted  connection  ( mother ) ,  wanted  connection  ( brother ) ,  wanted connection  ( sister ) ,  valentin  wolfmeyer  ( twin  brother ) .   ᴢᴏᴅɪᴀᴄ :  leo  sun ,  sagittarius  moon ,  aries  rising .  ᴍʙᴛɪ :  entp  —  the  debater .  ᴛᴇᴍᴘᴇʀᴀᴍᴇɴᴛ :  sanguine-choleric .   ᴇɴɴᴇᴀɢʀᴀᴍ :  type  7 —  the  enthusiast  .  ᴘʜʏsɪᴄᴀʟ ᴛʀᴀɪᴛs : 6ft  3 ,  brown  curly  hair ,  hazel  eyes .

*∘   ⸺   𝐁𝐀𝐂𝐊𝐒𝐓𝐎𝐑𝐘 .

(  i  will  write  him  a  proper  bio  at  some  point  promise !  )

a  literal  prince ,  he’s  the  son  of  the  daughter  of  the  grand  duke  of  luxembourg  and  the  heir  to  one  of  the  long  lasting  new  york  dynasties .  by  the  time  he  was  born ,  his  parents  already  had  two  kids ,  and  léo  didn’t  come  alone ,  he  was  born  15  minutes  after  his  twin  brother ,  valentin .  

he  had  an  easy  life  from  the  start ;  raised  between  his  grandfather’s  palace  in  luxembourg ,  the  family’s  penthouse  in  manhattan ,  and  the  many  vacation  spots  his  parents  own ,  he  never  wanted  for  anything .  always  very  active ,  he  had  too  many  hobbies  and  interests .

school  was  never  a  problem ,  he  was  a gifted  student  who  demonstrated  to  have  great  aptitude  for  anything  related  to  science  an  technology  ,  if  it  was  something  innate  or  due  to  incentive  coming  from  his  father  ,  not  even  leo  would  be  able  to  tell  .

after  high  school ,  he  didn’t  go  straight  to  college ,  he  actually  took  two  years  off  so  he  could   do  his  military officer  training  at  sandhurst .  one  of  the  downsides  of  the  whole  prince  thing .  the  good  thing  is  that  the  timing  meant  he  also  got  almost  a  whole  year  to  just  have  fun  before  college .

real  tragedy  didn’t  make  an  appearance  in  his  life  until  later .  he  and  his  brother  had  been  riding  jet  skis  during  one  of  their  many  trips  when  a  boat  hit  the  one  his  brother  was  riding .  tragically  , his  twin  didn’t  survive  the  crash ,  and  léo  still  suffers  with  the  memories  of  that  day .

léo’s  answer  to  grieve  was  turn  the  world  into  his  private  playground  and  indulge  in  every  self-destructive  habit  out  there .  drinking ,  partying ,  drugs ,  mindless  sex ,  dangerous  hobbies ,  you  name  it .  of  course ,  it  soon  became  a  big  problem  for  the  whole  family and  his  parents  had  to  take  action .

the  solution  was  ,  of  course ,  rehab .  his  parents  froze  his  trust ,  took  away  all  his  toys ,  and  sent  him  away .  three  months  later  he  was  back  and  his  sobriety  lasted  exactly  ten  hours ,  but  the  time  away  helped  him  deal  with  the  grief  and  got  him  to  take  his  habits  back  to  an  acceptable  level .

he’s  currently  attending  columbia  university  and  studying  mechanical  engineering  and  astronomy ,  and  is  still  as  messy  as  they  come .    

*∘   ⸺   𝐏𝐄𝐑𝐒𝐎𝐍𝐀𝐋𝐈𝐓𝐘  𝐎𝐕𝐄𝐑𝐕𝐈𝐄𝐖 .

a  charming  guy ,  he  exudes  charisma .  he  has  been  groomed  to  know  how  to  present  oneself  and  interact  at  social  gatherings .  he  has  a  magnetic  and  extroverted  personality  that  draws  people  in ,  which  is  good  because  he  loves  attention .  he’s  outgoing  and  has  the  tendency  of  making  people  think  they  know  him  more  than  they  actually  do .

he  can  be  very  reckless  because  he  believes  nothing  can  touch  him .  he  is  spontaneous  and  ready  to  try  every  new  thing  you  throw  at  him .  he  wants  to  live  his  life  to  the  fullest .  he  enjoys  the  luxury  and  all  the  nice  things  in  life :  fast  cars ,  hot  people ,  and  expensive  toys .  he’s  super  self-indulgent  and  spares  no  time ,  or  money  to  find  pleasure .

easily  bored  and  restless ,  léo  can  not  spend  more  than  10  min  doing  nothing  or  he  goes  crazy .  that  also  translates  to  his  relationships .  he  can  be  a  great  boyfriend ,  attentive  and  coming  up  with  big  gestures  and  the  best  gifts ,  but  he  can  be  fickle  with  relationships .  everything  can  be  going  great  and  he  will  simply  lose  interest  and  move  to  the  next  one .

but  he’s  also  a  certified  pro  in  repressing  and  hiding  his  emotions .  he  will  offer  you  dripping  sarcasm ,  a  devilish  smirk  and  copious  amount  of  alcohol  though .  he  is  plagued  with  survivor's  guilt  over  surviving  the  accident  that  took  his  brother .  more  often  than  not  he  deals  with  it  through  self-destructive  behavior  because  those  things  are  a  good  distraction .

*∘   ⸺   𝐀𝐁𝐎𝐔𝐓  𝐓𝐇𝐄  𝐆𝐀𝐋𝐀 .

léo  has  known  taylor  and  her  family  for  as  long  as  he  remembers ,  and  attending  the  buchanan  gala  was  just  something  he  did  yearly .  and  he  wouldn’t  complain ,   as  far  as  high  society  events  went ,  that  gala  was  always  a  solid  one .  despite  the  age  difference ,  he  and  taylor  were  friends  and  had  a  good  relationship .  they’ve  partied  together  plenty  of  times  and  even  hooked  up  a  couple .

*∘   ⸺   𝐓𝐇𝐄  𝐌𝐔𝐍 .

hello !  it’s  still  bea ,  and  i’m  still  a  mess !

#privilegehq.intro #*∘ 𝒘𝒐𝒍𝒇𝒎𝒆𝒚𝒆𝒓， 𝓵. : ❛ dossier ❜

[buckysgirl325]

Light of the Night (Bucky Barnes x reader)

This is my first draft on tumblr, I hope you guys like it:)

This is a Bucky Barnes x you which includes 40's Bucky

-

It was a cool, dark night in New York of May, 1943. You and your friend Samantha had decided to go to Coney Island to top the night off with some fun. Samantha grabbed your hand, and pulled you out of your dorm door.

"Come on, y/n! We'd better leave now if we're gonna go at all."

You were pretty tired, on the other hand, and didn't really want to go. But you also didn't want to upset Samantha, you didn't want to start a fight. So you agreed. You stood up straighter, looked in your mirror one last time as you fluffed out your curled y/h/c hair. After putting on a bit more red lipstick, you followed along behind your crazy best friend.

"Okay, fine."

Once you were seated in her car, she looked at you like you did something wrong. You rolled your eyes, and sighed.

"What, Samantha?"

She laughed.

"You know I'm gonna make you ride the Cyclone, right? It'll be fun!"

You bit your lip and rolled your eyes again. You were not very much of a roller coaster person, but you were gonna face your fears, anyways. You didn't want to look like a baby in front of everyone.

"I know, I know." you responded, laughing a little.

~~~

Once you and Samantha arrived at Coney Island, it seemed like the perfect night to be there. The cool breeze was shifting your and Samantha's curled hair, as you tried to keep up with each other in your new high heels. You were wearing matching bright red mini dresses that matched your bright red lipstick. The guy at the ticket stand seemed happy, too.

"Two tickets please, my ladies." he smirked at us.

You rolled your eyes while Samantha laughed, handing him your tickets. Once you entered the park, you felt a bit overwhelmed. So many people were laughing, cheering, dancing, singing, and screaming from the new roller coaster. You bit your lip and smiled.

"Crowded, but still fun!" you said happily staring at everything in sight.

That is, until you looked to your left, noticing Samantha walking off with two guys her age, leaving you behind.

"Hey boys, I didn't think I'd see you here tonight." she purred in their ears as they walked on either side of her.

Off they went, leaving you alone standing in the middle of everything, as you hear them laughing with each other, skipping towards the diner. You gasped, full of anger, knowing your so called 'best friend,' just betrayed you. She used you so she wouldn't look like she's 'alone' walking into the park.

You sighed, and palmed your face with your hands as you felt a small tear slip down your cheek. How would you get home, and what was there to do now? You knew there was something up with her. You could sense these things easily, but never expected it from your best friend. You searched around for the nearest bathroom, maybe to hide in.

You ran through the crowds of many people, loud, abnoxious, and all you wanted to do was go home. But suddenly, you ran into someone. Someone tall, and charming, with a big smile on his face. Until you bumped into him. His grin changed to a look of worry. You gasped, and flattened out your short, red dress.

"Oh my, I'm so sorry, excuse me." You said, your eyes welling up with tears, while you tried to stop them.

He bent down to help you up, and his look of worry changed to a smile again.

"Don't worry about it, doll. Are you alright?" he asked with a passion.

He was so...charming. Strands of dark hair fell into his face as he smirked at me, his lips tugging at the corners. I noticed he was wearing a light brown army suit, with his cap slightly tilted to the side. You, noticing his charm, fell almost speechless.

"I, um," you stuttered.

"Yeah, I'm fine."

Just as you turned to walk away, you felt warm, gentle, and sort of comforting hands grab your arm. You blushed, and turned back around.

"I'm James Buchanan Barnes. You can call me Bucky, though." he said with another smirk.

You finally maintained eye contact with him, because it was too tempting not too. Once your eyes met, something felt very different. You felt a strong sense of comfort, like everything was gonna be okay. You noticed how beautiful they were, bright blue, especially with the moon light hitting them. You smiled a bit, wiping away a tear.

"Y/n." you said, shaking a bit.

He smiled, and nodded happily.

"Beautiful name, y/n!" he said.

His voice sounded gentle, comforting, but most importantly, hot. You noticed you was staring into his eyes for too long, and had to force yourself to stop. Bucky glanced down at your dress, and then back up to your eyes, making you blush. Bucky smirked.

"Um, so, can you tell me what happened? I would like to help you out, doll." he said in a way that made you blush.

"Oh, um, it's really nothing..." you froze.

You couldn't help but notice how close you were to Bucky, and how you two could not stop staring into each other's eyes. Bucky glanced down at your dress again, and then back up to you, making your heart skip a beat.

"You sure, doll?" he asked with wide eyes.

You decided it would be best to tell him, since for some reason, you felt a sense of trust with him.

"Um, well, my friend...I mean, best friend, or well she used to be...betrayed me tonight. Went off with some stupid guys who she's never told me about, leaving me here alone, and-" he interrupted you as a couple tears slid down your cheek. His voice was so comforting.

"Hey, shhh, don't cry, it'll be alright. You're not alone anymore." he said comforting you.

You watched his hand as he moved it up to wipe away your tears. You felt your heart flip, as it led into him caressing your cheek.

"Just so you know, doll, I'm here for you. Who cares about some stupid betraying jerks?" he said, causing you to giggle.

You stood up straighter, as you and Bucky got closer and closer. You no longer felt sadness or stress, but something you hadn't felt in a while.

"Bucky, you're so good with words." you finally managed to spit out.

Bucky chuckled, and intertwined his fingers with yours. You no longer felt the cold breeze of the night, but warmth from being with Bucky. You could hear the sudden music playing from the center of the park, slow dancing jazz. Bucky looked you up and down before turning you around to face the music.

"Come on, doll, let's go dance."

You felt your heart skip many beats as you two walk the night together, you forgetting everything that happened earlier because you were with Bucky. Safe and comfortable with him. And you liked each other.

Bucky's little friend came running up behind him, having watched everything. He sighed, finally catching up with you two.

"Bucky?" he yelled.

"What are you doing?"

Bucky still coudn't take his eyes off you as he answered the smaller guy.

"Spending the night with my girl, Steve."

You blushed and giggled at this comment. He just called you his girl. You were his. And he was yours. Moments later, Bucky wrapped his strong, gentle arms around you're waist, leading you two to feel the warmth of each other again.

~~~

Hours later, still dancing with each other, you found that your feet were more sore than ever from your new high heels. Although, you had just had the best night of your life, spending time with Bucky. You told each other everything. Serious things and funny things. You two shared many laughs that you would never forget. Thinking over the night while swaying side to side, facing each other, Bucky's eyes flickered down to your lips. He cupped your face, while you tangled your fingers in his hair.

He pressed his lips against yours, while mumbling against your lips.

"I love you, doll."

Your heart humped in your chest as you took in his comment. You mumbled back against his.

"I love you too, Buck."

#bucky barns x y/n #bucky barns imagine

[jacobbean-watson]

#western movie #letterboxd #movie review #randolph scott

[queen-of-the-avengers]

Not so diffrent au

Bucky and His female varriant radiates sibbling energy (つ✧ω✧)つ bucky that teasing protective brother and or teasing. y/n the sneak to teasing . Peitro grins at this while bucky protective on y/n when shes on a date with steve and riding his harley motorcycle "Y/N BUCHANAN BARNES YOU FORGOT YOUR JACKET " incoming bucky runs carrying a leather jacket fr his varriant now he claimed as a sister varriant . She blushes "bucky, its alright. " She assures him. This also goes vice versa when y/n gets protective of bucky. Both Also are like this to steve bucky in a brother and best friend kind as for y/n his s/o nothing harsh or loose . Funnily enough when in missions she and steve are rekless . Bucky sighs" these two will be the death of my sanity" they also asure him they are fine . In alone time lol steve and y/n are mushy romantic as her with cute flirting then steve blushes . One time they were caught Fonduing BUCKY AND SAM DIDNT KNOCK ON HIS DOOR XD

this is added to the list! thank you!

#talk time with jordan #marvel request #anon #anonymous

[fourstarvideocoop]

7/12

The American Sector Buchanan Rides Alone (Blu Ray only) Comanche Station (Blu Ray only) Decision At Sundown (Blu Ray only) Future Boy Conan: The Complete Series (Blu Ray only) Huda's Salon Jojo's Bizarre Adventure Season 4 (Blu Ray only) Killing Eve Season 4 Montana Story Pompo The Cinephile (DVD & Blu Ray) Ride Lonesome (Blu Ray only) Sexual Drive Star Trek: Lower Decks Season 2 The Tall T (Blu Ray only)

#comingattractions

[erstwhile-punk-guerito]

#buchanan rides alone #randolph scott #craig stevens #barry kelley #jennifer holden #budd boetticher #1958

[ferretfyre]

#buchanan rides alone #film #review #criterion channel #budd boetticher #randolph scott