#Bucky Barnes romance

[sjsmith56]

Island Recluse

Summary: A woman writer is drawn into a 10 million dollar prize being offered to the person who finds and writes about Bucky Barnes, who went into hiding after helping Captain America deal with the Flag Smashers. Tracking the clues to an exclusive resort on a remote island in the Bahamas, she finds things there aren’t quite what they seem.

Length: 6.1 K

Characters: Named OFC (Maya Riggs, no physical description), Jerry the pilot, Curtis (resort attendant), Antoine (resort manager), Jake (resort bartender), and Kelly, (worker at the resort), Pepper Stark. (The resort people are in disguise.)

Warnings: deliberate over serving OFC alcohol, deliberate drugging of OFC (not done for malicious purposes), description of further trauma for Bucky Barnes, deliberate memory loss (for good reason).

Author notes: This plot appeared in a dream but was considerably darker. Told in first person by OFC.

Masterlist

🏝️ 🍹

It started out as rumours; someone was offering a big commission to find an individual and write an investigative article about him, a man who was an enigma from the time his identity had been connected with the infamous assassin known as the Winter Soldier. The man, Bucky Barnes, had defied all attempts in the second half of the 20th century and then another decade into the 21st to find and neutralize him. The longest serving PoW ever recorded, he had been kept as a prisoner of HYDRA, changed into a super soldier, tortured, brainwashed, then forced into becoming an assassin, taking out whoever HYDRA ordered him to, until his final mission. That was the one where he was ordered to kill his childhood friend, Steve Rogers. His own memories had resurfaced, fought the programming that forced him to kill. He saved his friend and, in the process, helped to bring down the secretive organization that were this close to taking control of the world. Then Barnes, after helping the next Captain America, Sam Wilson, defeat the Flag Smashers kind of fell off the radar. He left New York, moved to Louisiana for a while, then just disappeared.

There were sightings of him; running a bar in the Maldives, operating a fishing boat charter in Huatulco, Mexico, even a rumour he had opened a restaurant in Thailand but by the time anyone wanting a piece of that commission got there he was gone, like the ghost he was thought to be at the height of his assassin years. When I got a mysterious email, offering me, Maya Riggs, still struggling to pay my college tuition, the chance to join in the search for the elusive Barnes I jumped at it. This was my chance to prove I could work with the big names in journalism; find the clues that would lead me to Barnes, then write about the chase, and perhaps about the man. My reward would be a cool 10 million, as well as the title of the writer who cracked the mystery of where Barnes was.

Two years later I was on the cusp of what I was sure to be the biggest story of my life. I was in a seaplane flying in a long sweeping arc over a remote crescent shaped island in the Bahamas group of islands. On the aircraft’s final approach towards the multipurpose dock that seemed to be the only access point to Lunatum Island I noticed the thick foliage on the small but lush isolated refuge. It was thicker than I expected, almost as if it was saying I was going to have to dig deeper to find any answers. As the pilot skillfully landed the small aircraft on the calm turquoise waters, the seemingly endless white sand beach looked like it extended forever but I knew from looking at maps that the beaches were only present on the inner part of the small crescent shaped isle. Still, when it’s the only land for many miles it could feel bigger.

“Beautiful, isn’t it?” asked the pilot, Jerry. “You’re fortunate to come here. It’s very exclusive and I can count on one hand the number of people I’ve ever flown here.”

“Yet the resort can hold a good two dozen guests,” I replied. “How do they get here?”

“Personal aircraft,” he said. “Not by charter, not mine at least.”

A man on the dock waited for us, signalling the pilot when he was close enough to the dock, then stepping onto the pontoon with a rope to fasten the plane to the structure. The man, with light brown hair smiled as he opened the passenger door.

“Miss Riggs? I’m Curtis. Welcome to Lunatum Island. Your publisher sent a radio message that your pickup will be in one week. Jerry here will return for you then. We’re just waiting for an outgoing guest to get here. If you want to wait in the shade, there are some refreshments in ice for you under the trees on the beach. You’ll go back on the golf cart with Antoine. I’ll bring your luggage.”

So much for coming here incognito. I had already lined up a publisher for a travel story on the mysterious island resort, convincing them to pony up the money to stay here. It wasn’t cheap, more than a year’s tuition at many prestigious colleges. But I was certain that I had the final destination of James Buchanan Barnes. That commission check would be mine.

I thanked Jerry for the great flight then walked on the dock towards the beach. A large metal washtub filled with ice was full of assorted bottled drinks, both alcoholic and non-alcoholic. Picking up a beer I opened it then sat on one of the lounge chairs and put my feet up while I took a long drink of the cold beverage. Curtis was talking with Jerry, the pilot, joking in the way that men of brief acquaintance often do. Then he reached in back of the aircraft and pulled out my suitcase, bringing it down the dock towards me.

“How long have you worked here?” I asked when he stood near me.

“A few years,” he replied. “Got out of the services, bummed around a bit, then heard they were looking for someone to handle incoming flights and be a gofer for a private resort. It’s nice and quiet here.”

“How many staff?”

He shrugged. “Many of our guests bring their own. Other than me, there’s Antoine, Jake runs the bar, and we have different chefs that work on their newest creations in solitude that provides the cooking, plus the odd person who is hired on as needed. It works.”

“How many guests are here right now?” I asked casually. “Anyone famous?”

He turned a serious gaze on me. “Our guests come here expecting complete and total privacy. They get it. I would suggest you tone down your curiosity as it could lead to problems, and you wouldn’t be allowed to stay to write your travel article.”

If it was a threat, it was a subtle one but before I could respond we both heard the sound of a golf cart approaching. Driven by a dark-haired man with a single passenger, a very angry but beautiful woman, the cart stopped at where the dock met the sandy beach. Without even waiting for Antoine to get out the woman angrily stepped off the cart and grabbed her suitcase, depositing it loudly on the dock.

“I have never been in a place with such indifferent service,” she complained to Antoine. “No tip for you and I’ll be giving you zeroes across the board on every travel website I can. You call this exclusive? I call it a scam.”

She stalked towards the seaplane, leaving Curtis to bring her suitcase. Antoine, seemingly not bothered by the little scene looked at me.

“Miss Riggs, I presume,” he stated. “Sorry about that. Miss Webster had a different type of resort in mind when she booked her week here, expecting to be waited on hand and foot in a spa experience. That’s not what we’re about.”

I looked at her, now struggling to get into the small seaplane. “She didn’t know you offer a complete break from the world I take it. No wifi, no cell phone coverage, just a place of calm to recharge.”

He smiled. “You get it. Come on, I’ll take you to your bungalow.”

Grabbing my suitcase he put it in the back of the golf cart, waited for me to get in then started towards the other end of the island. While he was happy to talk about the natural beauty of the location, when I began questioning him about the type of people who stayed here, he reacted just like Curtis did and told me not to pursue questions about any of the guests. When we got to the bungalow, I walked inside, pleasantly surprised to find a beautifully laid out oasis of calm. The pastel colours of the walls seemed to promote the feeling of total relaxation. The bed, a large king sized one, was covered in what were evidently expensive linens. Showing me the bathroom facilities, I could tell that no money had been spared in the quality of the fittings.

“The bar is open from 11 am to 11 pm daily,” said Antoine. “It is also where breakfast is served until 10 am, lunch from noon to 2 pm, and dinner from 6 pm until 9 pm. All food and drinks are included in the cost and tipping is not permitted. Power is solar and battery operated while we have a very deep well to provide water so you can shower as long as you wish. As you already know there is no cell phone coverage or wifi so you are completely cut off from the rest of the world.”

“How do you stay in contact?” I asked.

“Long distance radio,” he answered, just a little too quickly for my tastes. “As Curtis no doubt explained and I am confirming again, the privacy of our guests is paramount. You are not at liberty to photograph them without their permission, nor are you to go snooping around their bungalows. The same goes for them as regards to you. I hope you take this opportunity to take a break from the rat race and enjoy our relaxing atmosphere.”

He left me then and I opened my suitcase, pulling out a bathing suit and coverup. Quickly taking a shower I changed and headed towards the bar, located centrally on the widest part of the beach. I had to start somewhere. When I got there several people were sitting in scattered groupings. They all stopped talking when I entered then resumed their conversations after I sat at the bar.

“Hi, what’s your pleasure?” asked the bartender. “I can make just about anything.”

“Surprise me,” I said. “Something tropical and sweet but refreshing.”

With a grin he began mixing some drinks, glancing up at me every so often. I watched him, noticing his well-built physique under the tight shirt he was wearing. His muscular arms were definitely impressive, and I wondered how he kept fit in such a remote environment. Placing an aqua blue coloured drink that matched the colour of the ocean around us in front of me, he topped it off with a skewer of lime and a maraschino cherry.

“A Hypnotic Breeze,” he stated. “Hypnotiq, white rum, lime juice, pineapple juice and simple syrup. Tell me what you think.”

Sipping it gave me a rush of sweet and tart but definitely tasty and I told him, making him grin as if I had made his day. After that one he made another while we talked about various things. It was a different cocktail, but equally as good and definitely potent as I could feel myself becoming more relaxed. It also made me bold as I began to study the other guests, trying to figure out their identities. The bartender, whose name tag Jake confirmed the name that Curtis gave me, watched me while he made drinks for the others, taking them out on trays. He would stand and talk with them, joking about different things, then come back to see if I wanted another drink, which I did as they were so good. When dinner was announced I couldn’t believe the time had gone by so quickly.

“Would you like your meal here at the bar or at one of the tables?” asked Jake. “It’s your choice.”

“Here,” I answered, “so I can look at your pretty eyes.”

He smiled slightly when I said that and set me up with cutlery. I had just enough of my wits about me to push my luck.

“No one ever said you had pretty eyes before?” I asked, trying to keep my voice soft and unthreatening.

“Sure, many times,” he answered. Then he leaned towards me. “It’s just that I never heard it from a guest who hasn’t been drinking.”

“That’s too bad,” I replied, feeling even more bold with the alcohol flowing through my system. “I thought you had pretty eyes before I started drinking. And a nice build, and a hot ass.”

He blushed, which surprised me, that a man as good looking as him would still blush at being complimented. Someone from the kitchen, the chef maybe, appeared with a tray of food and together they served everyone, still sitting at their tables, finishing with me. As I speared a shrimp, I realized that no one had taken an order from me. Then I bit into the shrimp and didn’t care as it was plump and juicy and perfect. Seasoned with just the right amount of butter and garlic I couldn’t get enough of it or the pasta it was paired with. It was incredible food. The wine that was served with it was sublime, and then the pièce de résistance was the chocolate mousse dessert that appeared in front of me. Jake smiled at me, watching with amusement, as I dug into it, seemingly enjoying my cries of delight over the rich creaminess of the final course in the meal. It was the perfect way to finish my first day at the resort. Afterwards I stuck to sparkling water, lounging on a beach chair in the deepening twilight, until I returned to my bungalow and fell into an incredible sleep.

The following day I went to the bar, where breakfast was served buffet style. The assortment of tea, coffee and juices were also self-serve, and I ate without any worries. Although I looked for Jake he wasn’t there, and I guessed he had mornings off. I spent the morning exploring, avoiding the residences as I was warned but I did look for any sign of technology, still not quite believing this island was as cut-off as they claimed. I saw Antoine and Curtis a couple of times, waving to them as I walked. After an excellent lunch of all sorts of salads, and cold dishes designed to refresh I took a nap, then went swimming. Despite my misgivings over the legitimacy of the resort I could feel myself being lulled into the sense of timelessness it offered.

Dinner was as superb as the night before as I sat at the bar, once again admiring Jake. There were other guests there, but he seemed to be focused on my needs.

“So, you had a good first day?” he asked, as he made me another Hypnotic Breeze without asking. “What did you do?”

I told him about exploring and swimming. After sipping my drink, I looked at him again.

“So, what’s your story?” I asked. “You seem awfully young to be working in such a remote location.”

“I’m older than I look,” he admitted. “Was in the army, had some issues, couldn’t function well in a busier place so I looked for a small quiet corner of the world and found it here. I’m happy.”

“No one special in your life?” I asked, toying with the maraschino cherry.

“No. Haven’t met the right one yet. Most women my age like being where all the excitement is, and I don’t.”

He left me then as one of the other guests waved to him and I watched as they spoke, making him grin a little then they looked back to me. Returning to behind the bar he made another round of drinks for them and served them. By the time he returned I was ready for another drink.

“How about a Tropical Bay Breeze?” he asked. “Coconut rum, pineapple and cranberry juice. Easy but tasty.”

I nodded, finding it as good as he suggested. Throughout the evening he gave me more drinks to try. If I had been more suspicious, I would have wondered if he had designs on me based on the amount of alcohol he served me, but he never crossed any lines of behaviour. Not once did he use a pickup line on me or touch me. I did talk to him about writing and how much debt I was in after finishing my journalism degree. Somehow the topic of the 10-million-dollar prize to the writer who found Bucky Barnes came up. He smiled slightly, if a little sadly.

“Is that why you’re really here?” he asked.

“No, not at all,” I spluttered, wondering why I had mentioned it, even as the alcohol haze settled over me. “I’m here to write a travel article. I mean, this is the most exclusive resort in the world. Any writer would give an arm and a leg for an opportunity just to write about this place, right?”

I looked behind me to see what the others thought and was surprised to find I was the only one left in the bar.

“Where did they all go?” I asked.

Jake smiled sadly again. “Back to their bungalows. They do that with every new guest on the island. They don’t want to affect the lottery.”

I didn’t understand what he was saying. “Lottery, what lottery?”

He smiled again and I got the feeling he was disappointed in me. “On the people that come looking for Bucky Barnes,” he replied. “There’s a lottery on what happens when they don’t find him.”

Okay, I was detecting a definite amount of emotion in how he said that, and I suddenly wanted to go back to my bungalow. I slid off the barstool, almost falling over with the motion. He reached out to steady me, but I put my hands out, not wanting his help. I was a big girl. I had been drunk before and could make my way home by myself. I headed one way and heard his voice.

“Maya, your bungalow is the other way,” he said softly.

“Right,” I nodded and turned around, stumbling out of the bar.

It took a while, step by step, one foot in front of the other, but I made it back and fell onto my bed before I had a thought. Who brought up the topic of Bucky Barnes? Was it him or me? Who were these people, really?

🛌 💊

When I woke up, I was under the covers of the bed, still in my clothes, although my shoes had been removed. My head was pounding from the hangover. Beside the bed was a bottle of water and a couple of painkillers. Someone knew I would need this, and I took them, draining almost half the bottle to chase the pills. When the headache subsided, I roused myself to have a shower and changed into shorts and a tank top. I dispensed with putting on the makeup and did my hair in a single French braid. As I did, the last thoughts I remembered from the night before came to my mind.

Determined to get an answer I headed for the bar. Breakfast was still ongoing, and like before it was all self-serve, with no sign of Jake. A young woman came out to replenish one of the dishes and I went to her.

“Is Jake around?” I asked. “I want to apologize to him for my behaviour last night.”

“Jake is off this morning,” she replied.

I looked at her name tag, Kelly.

“How long have you been here, Kelly?” I asked, pouring myself a glass of orange juice and taking a sip.

“About a year,” she answered. “Not full time as I have a job on the mainland. When I have breaks there I come here to work as it’s just as relaxing as taking a vacation. It’s so laid back, you know?”

“Sounds ideal,” I said. “Were you in college?” She shook her head but didn’t answer. “Jake said something to me last night that puzzled me. Maybe you can explain why he said it.”

She stopped what she was doing and stood directly in front of me with her arms crossed. Her demeanour had shifted somewhat but I couldn’t really tell why she seemed irritated with me, considering I had never met her before.

“Go ahead,” she said. “Ask away.”

“He said something about a lottery involving people looking for Bucky Barnes.” I spit it out. No point pussyfooting around the question. “What did he mean?”

“What do you think?” she asked, sounding defensive.

“I think he thought I’m here looking for the Winter Soldier,” I replied.

“Don’t call him that,” she retorted, suddenly sounding protective. “It’s wrong, so wrong.”

“What do you know, Kelly?”

Antoine appeared from the kitchen. “Kelly, take your break, okay? I’ll take over.” He looked sternly at me. “Miss Riggs, I warned you about asking about the other guests.”

“So, he is here,” I stated. “This is where he’s hiding out. I haven’t even seen him but I’m in trouble for just asking. What’s this about a lottery involving the people looking for Barnes? Why do you think I’m looking for him?”

Antoine sighed. “Because you are, aren’t you? Nearly every stranger that comes here is looking for him and he just wants to be left alone. He’s suffered enough and the world will continue on without knowing anything more about Bucky Barnes.”

“Just let me talk to him,” I said. “If I hear it from his lips then I’ll leave, and I won’t say anything.”

“I bet 10 million dollars that you will,” said Antoine, who nodded at someone behind me.

As I turned to see who it was, I felt something prick my neck and I began to feel lightheaded then drowsy. The weird part is that Antoine took his face off and underneath he was Tony Stark, but everyone knew that Tony Stark died in October 2023, from the injuries he received when he and the Avengers saved the world from Thanos.

“I really thought she would be different,” said a familiar voice, Jake’s voice.

Then I blacked out completely.

💉 🌅 🌌

It was almost sunset when I woke up. I was still in the bar, but I was seated on one of the plush armchairs, curled up on it like a cat in front of a fireplace.

“There she is,” said a soft voice and I turned my head towards it.

It was him, Bucky Barnes, his face lit up by the setting sun, his hair long but the top part pulled back away from his face and fastened with a hair tie. His lower face was covered by his full beard, but it was his eyes that caught my attention as they gazed at me, studying every part of my face. Self-consciously I sat up and he handed me a water bottle.

“You should drink it, so you don’t feel dehydrated,” he said. “The sedative can do that. I’m sorry about that. They’re pretty protective of me and once you spooked Kate, Tony had to intervene, and Clint decided to take action.”

“You drugged me?” I was angry. “What gives you the right?”

“What gives you the right to come onto a private island looking for a man who’s in hiding?” asked another voice and I turned the other way to see Tony Stark.

“You’re dead,” I said. “You died.”

“I almost died and decided to check out permanently,” he said. “This is my island, and you were my guest, but you couldn’t even respect my wishes. You had to ask questions even though you were warned.”

“Tony, please,” interrupted Bucky. “Let me talk to her. I know you’re angry, but she was only at the question stage because I mentioned my name and the lottery. Kate did overreact and so did Clint.”

Kate, Clint … was he talking about Kate Bishop and her Hawkeye predecessor, Clint Barton? I was so confused. Bucky stood up and offered me his hand. At first, I hesitated.

“We’re not going to hurt you,” he said calmly. “I’m going to tell you everything, but I need you to trust me, just a little. Please, Maya.”

Tony huffed a little, but he raised his hands in surrender, and I stood up, taking Bucky’s hand. He led me out onto the beach. We walked silently for a bit, and I have to admit it was nice, romantic almost, but the fact remained that they drugged me, and I wanted answers. He stopped where there were a couple of lounge chairs facing the water and gestured for me to sit.

“A few months after Sam Wilson and I dispensed with the Flag Smashers I was kidnapped, drugged, and woke up in one of the HYDRA bases I had been kept in,” he said. “Of course, I was afraid, but I thought I could fight my way out, except for one thing. They found a way to reinstall the Winter Soldier, permanently, and were prepared to stop me from leaving in any way imaginable so they could force the transition on me. Before they could do it, I was rescued by the Black Panther, Captain America, both Hawkeyes, the sister of Black Widow and US Agent.” He smirked after the last name. “I was surprised at his cooperation, but they asked for his help and with a million-dollar payout from Pepper Stark he agreed. The Black Panther took the information on how they were going to turn me back and realized there was nothing that could be done to stop or undo it. So, it was suggested that I retire and go into hiding. Except it always seemed like people found me.”

“So, the Maldives, Mexico and Thailand really were you?” I asked.

He nodded. “I’m adaptable and a quick learner and would have been happy doing any of those things for the rest of my life but people kept looking for me. Then Pepper Stark let me in on a big secret. Tony survived his encounter with Thanos. He was sick a long time, but he got better. He wanted out, wanted time with her and their daughter so he bought this island and offered me a place to live. The Avengers come here to relax, and I act as chef sometimes, bartender other times, but most of the time I read, work out, swim, and enjoy living a life of peace and quiet.”

“The arm.” I gestured to his apparently flesh left arm.

“It’s an enchantment,” he replied. “The nano mask is problematic on a body part.”

“The commission, it’s really a bounty, isn’t it?” I asked, feeling sick at the thought.

“Yeah, that’s what it is,” he said. “You’re not the first one to come here. They get the information and approach someone to come to the island, bribing their way onto it, a woman usually.” I could see him smile in the deepening twilight. “They think I’m lonely and that I can be seduced. Occasionally, they send a man, but I like women better.”

I looked back down the beach, seeing the outline of Tony and Clint. “They’re in jeopardy as well, aren’t they?”

“Yup, all three of us just want to live a quiet life without anyone bothering us.” He shifted to face me. “Tony lets the incursion happen wanting to see if the person is aware of how they’re being used or if they’re an actual operative. I figured out pretty easily that you weren’t aware.”

“I got drunk and blabby,” I smiled. “That’s me. I’m so sorry you’re going through this, for all of you. They haven’t figured out that Tony and Clint are part of it, have they?”

He shook his head. “Not yet. It’s been close, close enough that Tony has bought another island and is in the process of setting up there. He’ll sell this one, bury the sale in layers of straw sellers and buyers so that they can’t make the connection. We’ll go to another place and start over.” He stood up, gazing at me as I stood up in front of him. “Out of all the women that have made it here I was attracted to you the most. For a brief moment I pictured a life here with you.”

“I won’t tell them where you are,” I said. “None of you have to fear that.”

“I know,” he whispered. “But it’s not that easy.” Even in the dark, his eyes became glassy. “They can’t take any chances and although they won’t hurt you, they won’t let you remember what happened here. It’s better that way, safer for us and for you. I’m sorry.”

I understood suddenly what he meant, remembering the angry woman who was leaving as I was arriving. She was there for the bounty, but her memories were altered so all she remembered was being treated poorly at a high-end resort. It’s what they would do to me.

“Do I get the week still?”

“No, you go out tomorrow,” he replied. “I wish it were longer so that we could ….”

“It’s alright,” I smiled, then I became bold, one final time. “Would you stay with me tonight?”

He looked down the beach to where the two men were, now joined by a third, the young woman. Gently, he touched my cheek and kissed me. All I wanted was to be in his arms for the few hours I had left there. Afterwards, they would take the memory of him from my mind, and I would lose him. But to keep him and the others safe, maybe it was worth that sacrifice. We ended up in my bungalow and made love in a way that I would have remembered for the rest of my life, except I didn’t. The last thing I did before I fell asleep was cry in his arms as he consoled me with soft words and kisses.

🧳 🛫

“I have never been so humiliated in my life,” I said to Antoine as he waited for me to finish packing. “I paid for a week and just because I got drunk, you’re kicking me out?”

“Yup,” he answered. “You were offensive to the guests and the staff, and we just don’t tolerate that kind of behaviour at our resort. I have radioed our lawyer to tell your publisher that any article produced by you will be considered libellous. Now, if you don’t mind, it’s time for you to go.”

I was furious but what choice did I have. It was written in the booking contract that any unsavoury behaviour by the guest was grounds for immediate cancellation of the booking. It also meant my writing career was pretty finished. No one would ask me to write for them, knowing this happened. Somehow, I kept my tongue as Antoine transported me to the dock. Unlike my arrival there was no one waiting for the ride back to the resort. There was Jake, however, with Kelly and Curtis waiting to see me off in my disgrace.

“Assholes, all of them,” I thought.

I grabbed my suitcase and began the walk of shame towards the seaplane where Jerry was waiting. To his credit he said nothing then nor for the entire flight back to Nassau. I went straight to the airport there and flew back to New York, where a message awaited me on my email to say the contract for the travel piece was cancelled and good luck in finding another publisher. They also told me I was lucky they weren’t going to sue me for the non-refundable cost of the resort stay.

Over the next few months, I worked at a Trader Joe’s. It paid the bills and gradually I got over the humiliation of losing my credibility as a writer when word came out that the perpetrators of a 10-million-dollar commission scam that had been making the email rounds were finally behind bars. Apparently, they were part of a terrorist group looking for Bucky Barnes, hoping to turn him back into the Winter Soldier. I couldn’t believe someone would stoop that low to find the man. He deserved to live the rest of his life in peace. There were more rumours about him, a sighting in Tasmania, then another as a crew member on an African safari, but gradually the rumours died down and for several more months there was nothing heard about him.

One day, while I was stocking the shelves at work, I was interrupted by a woman looking for a product. I helped her then realized she was Pepper Stark, blurting her name out then apologizing for saying it.

“That’s alright, Maya,” she said, looking at my name tag. “You’ve been very helpful. Do you like working here?”

I shrugged. “It pays the bills but it’s just a job,” I replied. “I was a writer, but I crossed a line and lost any chance to go further in that field. I regret that now that I’m a little older and wiser.”

She smiled sympathetically at me. “Well, there’s an entry level position at Stark Industries,” she said. “I liked how you helped me today and I don’t mind giving people second chances. Here’s my card. Call the number and set up an interview. Maybe I can help you get out of this job and into something more satisfying.”

I was genuinely surprised and thanked her, calling the number the next day. With an interview set for the next week I was excited at the prospect of something meaningful finally happening for me after my penance. When the day came, I was brought into a conference room with Pepper and several other people. They were all pleasant and asked me all sorts of questions about privacy and respect for boundaries. Everything seemed great then one of them said something strange to me.

“проснуться,” said a man, who repeated it in English. “Wake up.”

I looked around, knowing where I was but realizing that the last six or so months had happened as if I had been somewhere else, watching.

“What’s going on?” I asked Pepper.

The man who spoke smiled and pressed his hand to the side of his face, peeling it off, to reveal Bucky underneath.

As I cried out his name, he opened his arms and I fell into them, almost knocking the chair over.

“It worked, didn’t it?” I exclaimed. “You found them, found the ones who were looking for you.”

“We found them,” he said. “Just had to make sure we found all of them.” He caressed my face, taking all of it in as he gazed at me. “The plans for the machine are still out there so I have to stay hidden. I thought that you ….”

“Yes,” I cried. “Oh God yes. I’ll go with you anywhere. Just don’t take my memories again. I want to remember everything we do, because I don’t plan on ever leaving your side.”

He looked at both Tony and Clint, who had also taken their masks off. “Told you she was the one.”

“Alright,” said Tony, taking charge. “Pepper, you’ll take care of clearing out Maya’s apartment and getting her things to the new location? She won’t need anything for winter anymore. Bucky, you’re in charge of teaching her what she needs to know about living in hiding, including self-defence. She has to be ready to defend herself if they ever come looking again. Maya, welcome to the rest of your life but don’t forget to phone Trader Joe’s and quit.”

The other two men put their masks back on and left the conference room with Pepper while Bucky and I stayed there.

“Where are we going?” I asked.

“I don’t know,” he admitted. “I just knew I didn’t want to go without you. It will be warm; I can promise you that. Tony will have a lab to work in. If you want to write under a pseudonym, he’ll build you an office, and will line up a publisher. I’ll mix drinks, cook some meals, maybe raise some goats if the land is right. I did it in Wakanda and enjoyed it. Just so long as we’re together. I missed you.”

He kissed me again, just like he did on the beach of Lunatum Island, which I found out was Latin for crescent. With that first kiss I knew I was with the right man and went along with the plan to remove my memories, keeping me safe. This kiss in the boardroom confirmed it. There would be a life to live with this incredibly wonderful man; a life of peace and quiet that he craved and deserved. Like the Avengers, I would do my part to keep him safe from those who would exploit him. It was a lifetime commitment, but it would be a lifetime with Bucky and that was worth everything.

One Shots Masterlist

Tumblr Masterlist

If you liked this one shot please like, comment or reblog.

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes fanfiction #buckybarnes original female character #bucky barnes oneshot #bucky barnes romance #bucky on the run #beach #tropical island #bucky in hiding

[revwatts]

Petition to make

'loud, chaotic and dramatic husky girlfriend x sunshine, lovable and adorable golden retriever boyfriend'

to happen.

"Chaos follow me everywhere I go." Boyfriend x "Are you calling me chaos!?" Girlfriend

#romance #golden retriver boyfriend #husky girlfriend #bucky barnes #harry potter x reader #harry potter #harry james potter x reader #james potter x reader #james potter #steve harrington x reader #steve rogers #steve rogers x reader #sirius black x reader #sirius black #remus lupin #remus lupin x reader #peter parker #peter parker x reader #love #chaos #sunshine #sunshine x chaotic #so dramatic #drarry #steddie #stucky x reader #wolfstar x reader #steddie x reader #highschool romance #gryffindor x hufflepuff

[distracted-milkshake]

I know I haven't been online to some of you in some months, but I cannot possibly stress how important this is. 

A woman named Bisan, a journalist in Gaza, was in the last hospital standing in what's left of the Gaza Strip. They are being carpet bombed, bombing every inch, destroying everything. 

This isn't a joke or a movie or some hoax, this is really happening. 

She is in tears and can hardly get the words out as the sounds of bombs and guns drown her out. The people there are injured, trapped, and have nowhere to go. 

The week the 21st-28th of January, 2024, STRIKE. 

This is unforgivable and inexcusable. 

In any way you are able, don't shop, donate, march or protest, spread the stories of those trapped and have been killed, and tell people why you're striking. Even if your busy or it's hard, it's nothing compared to what's happening in Palestine. 

Don't think it's useless. 

No national news will cover this. 

You are the last resort these people have. 

This applies to everyone reading this everywhere in the world. These people are not terrorists. 

Even terrorists don't deserve this, and it would be illegal. 

Reblog and repost this to as many people as you can. Share, screenshot, email, and speak out. Don't be the generation that watched a genocide happen and did nothing. 

Again, the week the 21st-28th of January, 2024. 

Share this to your whole follower list. 

Save Gaza. 

#free gaza #free palestine #save gaza #bisan gaza #fuck israel #trolls band together #dean winchester #harry styles #hazbin hotel #dramione #bucky barnes #x reader #tumblr memes #artists on tumblr #the owl house #twenty one pilots #my chemical romance #hate will be blocked on sight #percy jackson #into the spiderverse #bill cipher

[buvkys]

“I watch Captain America movies for the plot.”

the plot:

#wintershield #stucky #steve rogers #bucky barnes #steve rogers x bucky barnes #captain america #winter soldier #captain america movies #my fav gay romance

[sarahowritesostucky]

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x reader

Tags: dark!Bucky, mafia/mob au, dubcon/noncon, a/b/o, threats and coercion, non-con, forced pregnancy, forced domestic "bliss", mating, breeding, hate to strong affection, yandere, kid fic

Summary: You thought you'd left behind the alpha who turned out to be more dangerous than you'd ever imagined. But one day he walks back into your life and reminds you that, come hell or high water, you're all going to be one happy. little. family.

Masterlist

Daddy's Home (Series teaser)

Episode 1: A Clever, Tricky Little Kitty Cat: Just like Her Mommy

Episode 2: Taking Back What's His

Episode 3: The Lap of Luxury

Episode 4: Motherhood Suits You

Episode 5: Should've Done this Years Ago

Epilogue: A Storybook Romance Once Again

Nickname Dictionary: vorishka = "little thief" mamochka = "mommy/little mother" kotenok= "kitty/kitten" omegya = (made up) Russian spelling of omega omegechka = (made up) "little omega" shlyukha = "slut" krasotka = "Pretty(n.)/pretty one" milashka = "cutie patootie" malen'kiy = "little one"  malyshka = "little girl" pchelka = "little bee"

@cjand10, @violetwinterwidow01, @ppbhquinn, @myfavbuckyfics, @liannafae, @sadsackssss, @timidquindim, @dakotali, @rayofdawnworld, @wintrsoldrluvr, @lindasweetie

#bucky barnes #marvel #mcu #fanfiction #fanfic #sebastian stan #bucky barnes au #bucky barnes fanfic #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x female reader #bucky barnes x you #mafia bucky barnes #mob bucky barnes #mafia au #mob au #omegaverse #alpha beta omega #alpha bucky barnes #omega reader #alpha/omega #a/b/o #mates #arranged marriage #forced marriage #kid fic #pregnancy #hate to love #enemies to lovers #dark bucky barnes #dark romance

[late-to-the-party-81]

The King's Last Concubine

AN: Welcome, welcome to the short one-shot that spiralled a little out of control. I’m sure none of you will complain. If you like cheesy historical romance and Bucky then you’ve come to the right place. In all honesty I could have made this story much, much longer, but unfortunately I don’t have the time, so it’s wrapped up a little fast and without as many misunderstandings as the usual Harlequin/Mills and Boon normally contains. I hope you like it anyway.

Beta’d by the lovely @seriouslydex - thank you for your assistance in wrangling this into coherence.

Likes are loved, reblogs are golden

Mood board by me and dividers by @firefly-graphics

Bingo Fills - @buckybarnesbingo Square U1 - Kink: Concubine

Master list | BBB Master list

Summary: When Bucky takes over the throne after his Father’s death, he has better things to deal with than the group of concubines he’s inherited. He thinks the tradition is abhorrent and vows he wants no part of it. When he meets the newest member of the harem he finds his moral stance tested. How can he want the woman who was bought to please his father?

Relationship: King James ‘Bucky’ Barnes x Female Concubine Reader

Chapter word count: 10.2k

CW: Historical AU, Flowery historical language, Angst, Servitude, Lust, Male masturbation, Fluff, Miscommunication, Self-loathing, Jealousy, Fluff, Mutual Pining, Attempted Sexual Assault, Explicit Sexual Content, Declaration of feelings.

A quiet tension filled the air as you wandered your way around the gardens and corridors of the place you’d called home for the last six months. That’s when you’d been purchased - a gift for the elderly and ailing king, meant to boost his spirits and reignite his youthful zeal. However, all the youth and beauty in the world could not turn back the sands of time.

For the last few weeks the king had been getting weaker, not leaving his private rooms or entertaining any guests apart from his long faithful Queen, his heir, Prince James and his daughter, Princess Rebecca. It was a waiting game now, for the Royal Family, the country, and for you and the other members of the Harem.

Entering the solar, where all of you could spend your days in conversation, needlework, painting and reading, you could see Merith, the King’s favourite in an agitated conversation with Katya, the next concubine down in the pecking order. They had the most to lose when the inevitable happened, because it would be very unlikely that the Prince would wish to keep them around. Not only were they older than him, they had both also borne the King numerous children - it would be very strange for a new King to keep the mothers of his half siblings as concubines for himself. At best, the two women might hope to be housed somewhere pleasant in their retirement, maybe with a semi-wealthy husband. At worst they could be turfed out of the palace along with any of their children that the King hadn’t yet made provisions for.

As for your fate, that was also completely unknown. However, due to your age and the fact that you had only been here a short time, with very few interactions with the King, there was a chance that the Prince would want to keep you. You’d never seen him in the flesh, but you knew he was handsome from the glimpses you’d had of his portrait when you’d been led to and from the King’s chambers on those few occasions he had requested your company. However, despite what you had been purchased for, you had never actually lain with the King. He had tried and, as it was in your best interest, so had you, but the King was old and tired. 

Instead you’d provided him with company as best you could, rubbing his back, stroking his hair and reading him stories until he fell asleep and you could call the guards to escort you back to the Little Palace.

Of course, no-one knew what had occurred within the privacy of the King’s chambers, and if other concubines had had similar experiences they didn’t talk of it openly - it wouldn’t do to discuss the failing manhood of the person who held your life in their hands. However, what this meant was that you were still untouched by a man, with no experience other than what you had gifted yourself.

With a sigh, you crossed to the far side of the room, taking your place amongst the other younger and newer members of your unconventional community, picking up the sampler you’d been working on. There was no music being played and all conversations were kept to a minimum and spoken in whispers, out of a combination of respect and anxiety. The limbo dragged on.

Suddenly, the doors to the solar crashed open, and the King’s Equerry walked in, flanked by several guards.

“The King has died,” he announced. “Long live the King.”

The ladies fell into disarray.

“I really have to deal with that now?” Bucky asked of Coulson, his father’s, and now his, Equerry.

“I’m afraid so, your Majesty. It’s been two weeks since the late king passed away and decisions need to be made about those whose services you do not wish to retain. There may be some obvious candidates, but with others you may not know how you feel until you meet them.”

Bucky, now King James, sighed. It hadn’t come as a surprise when his father, King George, had passed away. His various ailments had worsened over the last few months and Bucky had actually felt relief for him at the end. The funeral had been last week and since then he’d been stuck in back to back meetings with the men who were now officially his advisors, sorting out matters of state. Admittedly, the fate of those who resided in the Little Palace hadn’t really occurred to him as important. It was an archaic tradition as far as he was concerned. Servants were one thing, but owning women just so you have a choice about who to fuck without any repercussions, just struck him as something that belonged firmly in the past. He still couldn’t get his head around how his mother had never once complained or commented about the practice - had never flinched when another Royal bastard was presented to the court so his father could make provision for them as he saw fit.

There was no question that any of the women who had provided his father with children - he wasn’t going to call them siblings - would have to be looked after in some way. He wasn’t a monster. The problem would be the others. There were about twenty or so of them, his father collecting them like fine artwork over his years on the throne and a few - and this thought turned Bucky’s stomach a little - were as young as his sister Rebecca. He didn’t feel as though he could just turn them out, however he didn’t want to keep them either. Without some kind of royal approval the women could be ostracised from normal society if their past were to become known, but could he really justify supporting all of them from the Royal purse for the rest of their days? Although, undoubtedly, there would be some noblemen more than happy to have his father’s cast offs as wives, especially as there had been no lack of suitors for their daughters. Those that had offered for them had obviously been hoping it would grant them a modicum more influence at court. Little did they know that wouldn’t be the case with him.

It also didn’t help that while Coulson could understand wanting to remove certain members of the Little Palance, he didn’t understand why the new King didn’t want to ‘get to know’ the rest of them. According to the Equerry, they were all very beautiful, demure, and accomplished, any one of them a suitable companion for lonely evenings. Apparently telling the dour man that if he was that taken with them he should feel free to fornicate with one himself, was not the done thing, but Bucky thought the look on Coulson’s face had been worth it. He’d then tried arguing that the ladies of the Little Palace deserved better than what they currently had, but his personal advisor had brushed the comment aside.

“These women want for nothing, Your Majesty. They sleep in the finest sheets, wear the finest fabrics, and eat the finest foods. Some would say they have a charmed life and what they gave up for it is very little in comparison to what they gain.”

“Fine,” he said with a defeated sigh. “I will at least deal with Merith, Katya and the other few that my dearly departed father put babies into, and maybe speak to the others. Let’s get this over and done with.”

Coulson smiled, obviously thinking that he’d won this round, and Bucky decided not to disabuse him. You have to pick your battles, as his mother was fond of telling him.

This time when the Equerry appeared, a fortnight after the death of King George, he sent nearly all of you out to the gardens, only keeping Merith, Katya and a few other of the ladies inside. It was clear that the women who were mothers to the late King’s bastards were about to find out their fate.

You walked slowly between the roses with your friend, Lila, the concubine who’d been obtained just a few months before you, swapping inconsequential small talk, neither wanting to verbalise what was actually on your minds - to say it out loud would be to court disaster. When the Royal Guards suddenly came outside you all stopped what you were doing, wondering if Master Coulson was going to deliver news to you all as well, but when a different, unexpected man appeared, you all lowered your gazes and dropped into deep curtsies. The King - the new King - was here. 

Anxiety rode through you, and all you could hear was the pounding of your heart. You were vaguely aware, from your peripheral vision, that Master Coulson was introducing the King to each member of his harem. You caught snatches of conversation, when the King asked each woman in turn their name and how long they had lived here. When they got to Lila next to you, you heard your friend giggle when the King asked her the same questions and you fought the urge to roll your eyes. You liked her, but she was always a little silly. Maybe she thought to flirt her way into the King’s affections?

When the two sets of feet stopped in front of you, you waited for Coulson’s say so before coming out of your curtsey and raising your head.

“And here, Your Majesty, is our newest young lady. You may greet the King, my dear.”

You stood, glad to get out of the deeply uncomfortable pose, and prepared to finally see him in the flesh for the first time.

“Your Highness,” you said, your voice a little more breathy than anticipated, but that was because it had been knocked from your lungs at the vision that greeted you. 

King James was tall and broad in the shoulders. It was clear that the painting you had seen had been created when he was still a young man, only just into his adulthood. The man who stood before you now was no stripling. He was fully grown and oozed confidence and authority. His eyes, a cross between pale blue and grey, which had not been adequately portrayed by the Royal artist. His cheekbones were high and pronounced, and his jaw exquisitely chiselled, even if it was partially obscured by his facial hair. The hair on his head was short at the sides, but fluffy and slightly untamed on top, just tempting you to run your fingers through it. Now you knew why Lila had giggled. 

He took your hand in his, and you marvelled at how large and strong it looked in comparison to your own. You could clearly see the resemblance to his father, but this was a man in the prime of his life and the thought that he would have none of the problems in the bedroom that had beset the late King flashed across your mind, unbidden.

When he asked your name in his deep but clear voice, you had to swallow before you answered so you didn’t stutter like a schoolgirl.

“Master Coulson said you were new. How long have you lived here?”

“Just over six months, Your Majesty.”

“And you like living in the Little Palace?”

You hesitated for a moment, working out the best way to answer. The other’s hadn’t been asked this question. “It’s very pleasant. Thank you for asking Your Majesty.”

His lips, full and pink, twitched, picking up on the diplomacy of your answer. “Only pleasant? Oh dear. Well maybe we can improve upon that in the near future.”

He skillfully removed his hand from yours and turned back to his Equerry, and you returned your gaze to the floor. As he walked away you realised your heart was still beating fast within your chest. However, it was no longer anxiety that made it do so, but rather the newly unfurled bloom of desire.

As soon as Bucky returned to the Palace proper, he dismissed Coulson and headed directly for his private chambers. His time in the Little Palace had mostly gone as well as expected, Meredith and her cohorts fawning over him dramatically in thanks for his generosity and then meeting what seemed like a legion of beautiful, yet dull as dishwater, young women, who his father had acquired to make himself feel young. What he hadn’t been expecting though was that last young lady - he didn’t even want to think about the word concubine and all of the linked meanings it held. He’d never seen someone so beautiful, and it had been clear from the short exchange of pleasantries that you had intelligence and humour to match.

He felt the rolling heat of lust raise its head and desperately tried to push it aside. As unique in his experience as you may be, he shouldn’t - couldn’t - think about you in this way. Not when he knew you’d spent time with his father. It was more than he could bear. But he couldn’t get the image of you from his mind. The curves of your body that deserved to be traced and explored with reverence. Your large, expressive eyes that tempted him to drown in their depths. Your lips that called him to kiss you over and over until you couldn’t speak or even breathe due to how much you wanted him.

Entering his room he shut the door harshly, but he didn’t care. He was unbearably hard within his trousers, and while not a new sensation by any means, it wasn’t one he’d felt in some time. As the Crown Prince he’d had to be circumspect in his affairs,but there was no-one he’d been actively courting. Now he was King the pressure would be on for him to find a suitable wife and start producing heirs. However, he didn’t intend to be like his father. Once he was married he would be faithful and treat his wife with respect. The devil on his shoulder reminded him that he wasn’t married yet and was free to do what he desired, but he tried to push it aside.

Bucky threw himself down on his bed but every time he closed his eyes you were there, hovering behind his eyelids. He palmed himself over his trousers, trying to get some relief from his state of arousal, but it was no good. Almost unconsciously he undid the fastenings, letting out a small sigh as the pressure was lessened, but then it was just too easy to take himself in hand. A few small strokes, just to take the edge off, became harder and longer, and the vision of you behind his closed eyes smiled at him coyly, tempting him to ruin her. 

He imagined kissing you and touching you. Tracing every peak and valley with his lips and tongue. He imagined you doing the same to him, taking him in your mouth, lips stretched wide and tears in your perfect eyes. He imagined driving into you, again and again, while you gripped his shoulders and tangled your legs around his waist. Marking you - claiming you - as you called out his name over and over and trembled around him.

Bucky came with a cry, his spend spilling over his hand and stomach, and leaving him with an aching, hollow feeling of disgust with himself. He needed to release you and the rest of the ladies of the Little Palace and there-by banish you from his thoughts.

The next day he put his plan into action. He set Coulson the task of going through the remaining residents, from oldest serving to newest and finding them a new situation. Respectable marriages were the first preference - the Crown could provide a dowry - but failing that independence and a stipend until they became financially solvent on their own. If this plan had the effect that you would be the last to leave, that was just an unfortunate by-product of the most logical way of sorting the whole thing out, wasn’t it?

The edict by the King that the Little Palace was being disbanded was met at first with some trepidation. The women were all of a flutter, wondering what it would mean for them, but when Marie, the most senior of the concubines now that Merith and the others who had children had retired, was informed that, should she approve him, a husband had been found for her, any anxiety morphed into jubilation. Over the coming weeks, the number of you dwindled and you couldn’t help but feel a little lost amongst all the celebration. You were a strange sisterhood, that was certain, and you hadn’t gotten along with everyone, but you wished them well with a smile, and mulled over your sense of unease in private.

You weren’t sure what it was that was making you worried. It wasn’t as though you’d be forced into anything you didn’t want. Letitia had rejected three potential husbands before settling on a fourth, much to Master Coulson’s despair, and Tiffany had outright declared she wanted no husband at all, her and Dana wishing to set up house together and start a school. This came as no surprise to any of you.

It also wasn’t because you were so entrenched in this life that the thought of anything else was scary - you’d had more life outside these walls than in it - however you had found a camaraderie here, a sense of belonging, as strange as that may seem, that you hadn’t had before. And despite the fact that the idea of being intimate with the old King had been stomach churning, once he realised each time that it wasn’t going to happen, you’d found you’d enjoyed providing him comfort and some sort of friendship. Maybe being here had spoiled you? You’d admit it wasn’t a hardship to live somewhere where all your meals and clothes were provided and all you had to do was entertain yourself unless your services were required, although you did wish for more sometimes - a cage was still a cage, no matter how gilded and glittered.

Maybe having a husband wouldn’t be so bad. Hopefully he’d let you have some freedom - have some hobby or interest to keep you occupied, other than keeping house and popping out babies. You couldn’t help but be nervous though, especially as the numbers of you lessened until it was just you and Lila left. 

Each time one of the ladies was preparing to leave, the King would come and thank her for her service. How any of you managed to keep a straight face when he said that was beyond you, but it did give you the chance to watch him unobserved. He really was handsome, and seemed so kind and earnest in his thanks. A true King and diplomat. But that wasn’t all he was. Every so often he would catch your eye and you would feel… something. And you couldn’t explain what it was, other than that you felt like a moth captivated by a flame, longing to get nearer and nearer, even if it would mean your doom. It wasn’t just physical, either - although you couldn’t deny that you’d had thoughts about that. You wanted to get to know him. The real him. His hopes and dreams. What motivated him.

You got your chance when you were sitting in the solar, enjoying the sun that streamed through the windows as you read your book. Lila was outside in the garden, taking a walk with her potential fiancee, a man named Lang who was apparently some minor aristocracy. Guards trailed them at a discrete distance, but you didn’t think there was anything to worry about. From the glimpses you’d caught of them, Master Lang appeared to be a convivial and respectful fellow. He walked with his hands behind his back, not trying to touch or grab at your friend, but he leant in close to talk intimately.  He also appeared to be letting Lila hold an equal part of the conversation and you watched as she giggled behind her hand at a number of points in response to what you guessed were jokes.

“They appear to be getting on well.”

A voice from behind you, made you jump and turn in your chair. At the realisation that King James was standing there, you leapt up and then immediately leant forward into a deep curtsey. 

“Your Majesty.”

How had you not noticed him enter? Why was he here?

“Please stand. There’s only the two of us here. I wanted to see for myself how Master Lang was comporting himself and this seemed like the best place to watch unobserved.”

He walked closer to the window and you continued to stand, your hands clasping each other, as you watched him from under your lowered lashes. Despite the number of times you’d seen him recently you were no less dazed by his beauty than you had been the first time. You allowed your gaze to travel over his body, admiring the way his clothes were cut to show off his defined figure. Silver threads were woven through the black fabric of his coat and they shimmered in the sunlight. You itched to smooth the cloth over the broadness of his shoulders.

As if sensing you watching him, the King turned back to you.

“Please don’t let me disturb you from whatever you were doing. Pretend that I’m not here.”

Your lips twitched. “That would be difficult, Your Majesty. You do stand out.” You gestured to the walls of the solar, a pale pink colour, and then at his attire. He looked down at himself and you were taken aback by the flush that made its way to his cheeks.

“Aah, yes. I see what you mean.” He moved away from the window then, and toward the chair opposite the one you’d been occupying when he’d surprised you. “Maybe then we could sit and talk for a while? What have you been doing with your days these last weeks?”

You gave him a small nod and took your seat. “Very little, Your Majesty, other than helping the others pack up their belongings as they leave. Some reading, some needlework. I have been practising my languages too. What have you been doing? Important affairs of state I would imagine.”

“It is not nearly as glamorous as people think. Lots of meetings that seem to stretch on forever, but that is nothing to the never-ending paperwork. I swear everyone in the country will have my signature soon. Lots of time to relax and do what you will, seems wonderful to me. I admit to being a little envious.” He smiled as he spoke, his face lighting up in boyish amusement.

“I assure you,” you stated, “that after a while even relaxing becomes as dull as any paperwork.”

The King chuckled at that. “Does it now? I’ll have to take your word for it. Now, tell me, what languages do you speak?”

“French and Spanish. A little Portuguese. And I’m trying to improve my Greek.” You lifted up your book to show him the writing on the front. He smiled at you and your heart beat faster.

“Impressive, my lady. My Greek is somewhat rusty, although my Russian is still good. Come, read for me and we shall see if I can follow you.”

Feeling shy, you lifted your book and began, haltingly at first, to read out loud, your tongue trying to wrap around the unfamiliar syllables. It had been a while since you had spoken out loud, normally preferring just to read, but as you became more confident the words flowed easier and you managed to glance up at him now and again.

The King was sitting, relaxed in his chair, legs outstretched with his ankles crossed. His eyes were closed as he rested his head on the chair back, arms settled on his chest with his fingers steepled. For a moment you could almost pretend this was a domestic scene of a wife reading to her husband after a long day. However, you were not his wife and he was not destined to be your husband. That would be someone else.

When you reached the end of your chapter, you gently closed your book, placing it on the side table, and the King opened his eyes and sat up again.

“You have a wonderful reading voice and you navigated the words very well - better than I’d have done, I’m sure. I’ve always thought learning languages a worthwhile endeavour and it is my deepest regret that I do not know more. I’ll take note to ensure that my Equerry looks to place you in a situation where your skills will be appreciated. I have a feeling,” he said with a glance back towards the window where his friend was still busy gently wooing yours, “that you will soon be the only one here.

You felt heat rushing to your cheeks at the compliment. “That would be greatly appreciated, Your Majesty. I know that not all men wish for an intelligent wife, but it would be nice to not have to appear vapid just to gain favour with my spouse.”

King James snorted. “I’ll admit that I do not understand those who only wish for a doll for a wife. If you’re going to spend the rest of your days together, would it not be better to have someone to converse with. Someone to challenge you mentally. It would be rather dull otherwise.”

“I suppose,” you ventured, “that those men are probably the type to find other ways - other people - to keep them occupied.” A small smile crept across his lips at your statement.

“And I suppose you are correct, my lady. But if that is the case then those men have chosen poorly. I cannot imagine marrying someone, only to then spend all my free time avoiding them. Somewhat defeats the point of it all, in my opinion.”

“Well, I had guessed some of that about you, Your Majesty. What with you getting rid of this age-old tradition.” You gestured once again to the room around you but when you turned back to him, it was to see that the King’s eyes had narrowed slightly, studying you.

“And how do you feel about that?”

You sensed his words were a test and you licked your lips nervously before you answered.

“I have no real opinion, Sire. I live to serve and am happy to do what my King commands of me.”

There was a strange look on his face. He was no longer smiling and while he didn’t appear angry with you, his demeanor was now far more chilly than it had been a moment ago.

“And were you happy to carry out the commands of my late father?”

You hesitated before answering. “His Royal Highness was most kind to me. I was happy to serve him.”

You barely heard him mutter “I bet you were” under his breath before he suddenly stood, and you scrambled to your feet after him. 

“This has been an illuminating chat, my lady, and I thank you for your company. Soon you will be free of this place and can put this part of your life behind you.”

He nodded his head and once again you dropped into a deep curtsey, your eyes locked to the floor. You stayed that way as his footsteps retreated across the marble floor and you wondered what it was you had said that had turned him so cold.

Once again, Bucky found himself stalking into the sanctuary of his private chambers. Damn you, damn his father, and damn this ridiculous fascination of his. Whilst he’d tried to tell himself that the only reason he went to the Little Palace was to get a feeling for whether his friend was getting along with his potential betrothed, he also couldn’t deny the fact that he’d known you would be there as well, all alone.

He’d been enjoying your conversation until he’d been reminded why you were even there in the first place and sabotaged himself by bringing up his father. Then you’d all but admitted that you’d enjoyed doing what you did. Bucky felt sick at the thought. 

Images of you tortured him day and night, and spending time with you today had obviously been ill-advised because now he had more memories to draw on. The way you spoke so passionately and knowledgeably about the ways of the world. The way that you smiled and joked when you were relaxed.

Bucky’s fingers longed to pick up a charcoal and try to capture the way the sunlight had slid over the planes of your face, giving you an ethereal, other-worldly look, like some fae creature sent to enrapture him. Instead he tugged on the bell-pull, asking the page who appeared to go and fetch Coulson. He then paced up and down the room, chewing on his thumb nail for the few minutes it took the Equerry to appear.

“How can I serve you, Your Majesty?” Coulson asked with a low bow.

“I want the matters with Lang organised as soon as possible and the remaining occupant of the Little Palace resituated with all speed. It’s high-time this issue was finished, once and for all.

It had been a week since Lila left. A week in which you’d spent nearly every waking moment alone, other than when the servants were helping you dress and bringing you food. Although you mustn’t forget the omni-present guards stationed outside various doors. Which meant it was two weeks since the conversation with the King that had left you feeling more confused than ever.

Lila had returned from her sojourn around the garden gushing about Master Lang and his attributes. About how handsome and kind and funny he was, and how certain she was that they would suit. You plastered a smile to your face and said all the right things, but you couldn’t seem to concentrate on your friend’s happiness, your thoughts consumed by the memory of how the King’s face had looked at the end of your exchange.

He’d been so happy and relaxed, then suddenly so cold and closed. It was obviously no secret that he didn’t like the fact that his father had had concubines, but it had happened and to deny why you were living there would be foolish. Which is why you’d answered so diplomatically - he didn’t need to know what did or didn’t happen in the privacy of the late King’s chambers, and he probably didn’t want to know. What son would want those details? But he had asked a question and you’d answered the best way you knew how.

It hurt because you’d actually been enjoying yourself, and thought that maybe he’d been enjoying himself as well. There’d been a strange warmth inside you as the pair of you had talked and teased and joked, and over the last few days you found yourself wishing you could feel it again.

However, now you had something else to occupy your mind. Almost as soon as Lila had left to get married - and you were sad you couldn’t be with her on her big day - Master Coulson had come to tell you that arrangements were being made at pace for your own future. It was only mildly surprising then, when he’d come to you this morning to tell you that a potential husband had been found and you should prepare yourself to have dinner this evening. He passed you over some papers, giving you details of the man you were to meet.

Apparently he was a Baron, a widower, and a few years older than King James. His seat was on the other side of the country and apparently quite large, with the main house boasting stables, a library, and a formal rose garden. As you read through the information you pulled your lower lip between your teeth. It all looked good on paper, but you needed to be sure. You didn’t want to swap one cage for another - you had to at least like Baron Zemo, and him you. It seemed as though he spoke numerous languages, so at least you had one thing in common with him. Hopefully all would go well, and you could consign this place and thoughts of the King to the past.

A few hours later and you were putting the finishing touches to your toilette. You dabbed some rosewater behind your ears and smoothed your hands down the front of your gown. It was one of your favourites and you’d worn it every time you’d been to visit the late King. He’d always complimented it, saying that the colour of the silk brought out your eyes. You hoped the Baron would like it as well. With a gentle knock on the door, one of the servants let you know that your guest had arrived and was waiting for you in the solar. You took a deep breath and walked down the hall.

As you entered, you saw a man, dressed in deep purple, looking out of the window, with his back to you. 

“Baron Zemo, you are most welcome,” you said as you dropped into a curtsey. You heard him turn and then a be-ringed hand appeared in front of your eyes, offering to help you back to your feet.

“Thank you for having me here, my lady,” he replied as you stood. “I have been intrigued to meet you ever since the King wrote to me about your situation.”

You took in his features as he smiled gently at you. He had warm hazel eyes, straight, mid-brown hair that lay across his brow, and was clean shaven. He was slightly taller than you, but not by much and you pushed away the rogue thought about how King James virtually towered over you.

“Shall we sit and dine, and hopefully get to know one another better, sir?” you suggested.

“You’ve read my mind, my dear. There is nothing like good food, good wine, and good conversation, is there?” The Baron walked you over to the small dining table that had been set up and assisted you into your seat, and you felt like a grand lady.

The next two hours passed by amenably. The Baron was eloquent and charming, and when he found out that you spoke other languages he insisted on conversing with you in them, gently correcting your pronunciation and helping you when a particular word or phrase was outside your knowledge. At the end of the meal you were full, warm and a little tipsy from the wine - it wasn’t in your nature to imbibe often.

“Maybe,” Zemo suggested, “we should take a turn about the gardens? A walk in the cool night air would probably help aid digestion. What do you think, my lady?”

“I think that would be delightful.” You allowed him to help you with your chair once more and when you stumbled he linked your arm into his and walked you outside, away from the guards and servants who’d been present in the solar with you. 

The garden was illuminated with lanterns in addition to the lights from the solar, and the pair of you walked companionably along the pathways. So far he’d done nothing to worry you, and hadn’t been at all standoffish. You would have to give serious thought into accepting his suit, especially as you were unlikely to receive better. The problem with being the last to be situated was that it also meant that your options for a suitable marriage were narrower.

“You’re awfully quiet, my dear. What’s going through that beautiful head of yours?” You ducked your head at the compliment and couldn’t help but smile.

“In all honesty, my lord? I was thinking about how lovely this evening has been. I will admit to some trepidation, which I’m sure you can forgive me for. Things like this are all too new for me.”

“No forgiveness needed,” he said with a smile, one much wider than those he’d displayed earlier and you felt your heart pick up in your chest, although you couldn’t immediately say why. “It’s completely understandable. But can I say that you have vastly surpassed my expectations. The information given to me about you greatly downplayed your beauty and intelligence. And, if I may be so bold, I find myself captivated.”

You felt your cheeks warm, but you also felt a little uncomfortable, at his zealousness. Or maybe it was the wine? “That is kind of you to say, sir. However, I’m finding myself getting a little chilled. Maybe we should return inside?”

With a swiftness that startled you, the Baron took hold of your shoulders and steered you backwards until you came into contact with the wall. You gasped in shock at both the impact and his change in demeanour.

“Maybe I can find a way to warm you up?” He quipped before his lips came down onto yours, his tongue thrusting into your mouth and one hand falling to your leg, inching your skirts upwards. You tore your mouth from his and turned your head, but his lips just zeroed in on your throat instead, sucking and nipping.

“Sir! Get off me!” You tried to push him, but his bulk had you pinned. His questing hand breached the hem of your skirts and he started to grope at your thigh, and his lips trailed further down to the neckline of your dress. “I said get off!”

The Baron raised his head and stilled his hand, but didn’t move away. “Surely you must miss this? The touch of a man. And think how much better it will be with someone who is younger and knows how to please a woman.”

“I miss it less than you think,” you ground out between clenched teeth. “And I did not ask you for this. Let me go.”

He smiled predatorily and slid his hand up to cup your mound over your underwear. “Did you really think I would offer for you without seeing if you had all the necessary attributes I’m looking for. I need an heir, and intelligence and beauty can’t provide that. And let’s face it, it’s not as though you’re a missish virgin keeping herself pure for her wedding night.”

His hand started to tug at your underthings and you closed your eyes tight as fear started to take over. However, just as you felt the first touch of his fingers on your intimate flesh his weight was suddenly gone.

“I believe the lady said no, Baron Zemo.”

Your eyes shot open, and there was King James, standing between you and the Baron, who was now sprawled on the ground. The dim light of the lanterns partially lit his face and that, combined with his expression, made him look like an avenging angel. Then he turned towards you and his expression softened.

“Are you alright, my lady?”

Without the Baron’s hands on you, your skirts fell back to your ankles and you pushed yourself away from the wall to stand. 

You nodded and gave a little cough to clear your throat. “I’m fine, Your Majesty.”

The Baron scrambled to his feet and brushed the dust and gravel from his coat.

“Just a little misunderstanding between my fianceé and myself, Your Majesty. No harm done,” he said, his voice smooth and oily.

You took a step forward, your body trembling with anger. “I don’t believe that I’ve accepted your suit, sir. And after that display of ungentlemanly conduct I am now fully disinclined to do so.”

The Baron’s eyes snapped to yours, narrowing and he let his facade fully drop away. “Be quiet, whore. Who else would have you? You’re used goods, even if the one who did the using was the former King. You should be grateful I’m even considering you.”

You shifted, intending to step forward again and slap him, but the King held out his hand stopping you.

“You are out of line, Baron. No matter her history, the lady is still just that. A lady. And how you treat her is tells me that, despite your title, you are no gentleman.” His voice was steady, but you could pick up the undercurrent of rage - could see it in the way he was holding himself and the tick in his jaw.

Baron Zemo let out a bark of laughter, apparently oblivious to the danger he was in. “My dear James, I cannot believe how much you are defending one of your fathers handmaidens. She was obtained by him for one purpose, but you think it’s unreasonable for me to see if she lives up to that purpose before I marry her.” He peered at the King, then his eyes widened as though he’d made a startling revelation. “Do I sense some jealousy raising its head here?” He laughed again. “I should have realised there was a reason you kept her until last. Of course - she’s your whore as…”

He didn’t get to finish his vile words, because King James’ arm snapped out and he punched the Baron right on the jaw, then watched impassively as the man crumpled back to the ground. Then, just as suddenly, he turned towards you fully and without a word scooped you up into his arms. You squeaked and threw your arms around his neck as he walked briskly back towards the solar. As he made his way inside, the guards stood to attention but didn’t turn to look at you, however, you still hid your face in his neck from embarrassment.

“There’s some filth in the garden to be sent packing.” The King’s voice rumbled in your ear as he spoke to the guards, and then he was turning with you in his arms and striding down the corridor that led to the private chambers. 

“Which one?” he asked gruffly, and you uncurled from his chest slightly so you could point. He shouldered your door open and then kicked it shut before letting you down, your body sliding over his as he did so.

You looked up at him, eyes wide and heart racing, not even noticing that your hands still rested on the slope of his chest and that his hands were still on your waist.

“You’re sure you're alright?” he queried again, looking down at you with concern.

“Absolutely. You stopped him. You…” You started to shake then as you realised how close you’d come to real harm. Without a word, the king steered you over to the edge of your bed and you both sat down, your small hands held in his larger ones, one of his thumbs rubbing over the delicate skin near your knuckles.

“Just breathe, my lady. You’ve had a shock. I’m glad I was there…” he stopped mid-sentence and freed one of his hands to turn your head and bare your neck to him. You swore you heard him growl. “He marked you. I’m going to kill him.”

You took hold of his wrist and pulled it down so you could turn back to face him. “It’s nothing. Really. It will fade and in a few days it’ll be a memory. Then we can try again.”

He peered at you, confused.

“Try and find me a husband,” you clarified and then smiled in an effort to lighten the atmosphere in the room.

“No.” King James pulled himself away sharply and stood, his back to you.

Now you were the one who was confused. “What do you mean,’No’? ‘No’ to a few days or ‘No’ to a husband? I don’t understand.”

“Either. Both,” he snapped, still not turning around.

“Alright,” you replied. “We’ll find me somewhere to live, then. Discuss a suitable stipend amount like Master Coulson did with some of the others who refused a husband.”

“Not that, either.” He ground the words out and you felt your patience waning, frustration overtaking your confusion. You stood up and stepped closer.

“So no husband and no stipend. What are you suggesting? That I just leave?” You couldn’t keep the hysterical note from your voice.

He spun on his heel and moved into your personal space, just as the Baron had done only a few minutes ago. However you didn’t feel anxious or uncomfortable, and the warm feeling inside you was back, despite your anger at how contrary he was being.

“Not at all,” he said quietly, his eyes trained on you. 

On your face. 

On your lips.

“I thought you wanted me out of here. You don’t want any concubines, remember?” You arched your eyebrow, challenging him.

He leant forwards and your breath caught in your throat, his stormy eyes now all you could see.

“I still don’t,” he murmured and then pressed his lips to yours.

This kiss was entirely different to the Baron’s assault. It was soft and gentle. Coaxing, not claiming. The King’s hands came up to cup your face and you curled your own into the front of his jacket. The heat within you rose in intensity and you kissed him back, opening your mouth and letting him in. He moaned when you did, one hand sliding to your hair and the other to the small of your back, pulling you close to him. You could feel the evidence of his arousal, but it didn’t scare you. In fact it thrilled you. It was all the deepest thoughts you’d kept to yourself come to life, and they took you over. 

Your nimble fingers worked the buttons of his jacket and as they came undone the King let go of you to shuck it off. That was followed quickly by his cravat and waistcoat, thrown without care across your room, and then he pulled his shirt free of his trousers and toed off his shoes. He took you back in his embrace then, kissing you with more passion and your hands found their way under his shirt, stroking across the hard planes of his chest. He nipped at your lower lip in retaliation and you gasped as the brief stinging shot to your core.

“Tell me you want this,” he breathed into your mouth.

“I do,” you whispered back. You’d never been as sure of anything as you were now - consequences be damned. They were a problem for tomorrow.

Part of Bucky couldn’t believe what he was doing, because he really shouldn’t be doing it. He was a King and should be the better person. But, oh, how he wanted to be selfish for once and slake this longing he had for you. 

He hadn’t been able to stop himself from coming to see how you and the Baron were getting on, partially to assuage his guilt and partially to torture himself. When he’d found you both absent from the solar, one of the guards had told him you’d gone for a walk together. As he’d stepped outside and neither of you had been in the closer part of the garden a sense of unease had washed over him. Then he’d heard you shout and raced around a corner to see you pushing at the Baron as he held you against the wall, trying to violate you.

He’d barely been able to restrain himself when he saw that, only daring to separate you and check that you were alright. But then the Baron had started to spew his hurtful, cruel words and his resolve had crumbled. He’d had to make sure you were safe. He’d needed it like air.

Upon getting you inside, he’d told himself that he would just double check that you were alright and then leave, but then he’d seen the bruise on your neck and you’d tried to placate him with talk of trying to find a new suitor and he’d lost any sense of decorum. 

There would be no other husband, no grand house and pension, because you were his. You were his oxygen - his sunlight. His joy and his misery and his desire all rolled into one. So he’d kissed you, almost no better than the Baron, but then you’d kissed him back. Clung to him. You’d made it plain that you wanted him too, first with your actions and then your words.

Mentally calling himself a fool, Bucky spun you around and tugged at the closure of your dress, the multitude of tiny buttons that held it together flying across the room. He didn’t care, though. He could buy you a new dress. A thousand new dresses. He eased the open neckline over your shoulders and pushed the multiple layers of silk down your frame. Taking your hand, he helped you step out of the froth of fabric and you kicked off your slippers at the same time with a giggle that shot through him like a bolt of lightning. 

Bucky pulled you back to him with a groan and walked you towards the bed, laughing with you when you both tumbled onto it with a bounce. Your hands, so small and delicate, found his chest again, and he lent up and pulled his shirt over his head, watching you as your eyes darkened with desire as you took in what you saw. You traced your fingers over the definition of his abdominals and pectorals and Bucky shivered. 

“I want you, Your Majesty.” Your voice was low and breathy, and fuck did he just want to bury himself in you. Feast on you.

“Bucky,” he rasped. “Call me Bucky. There is no King here tonight.”

You came back together, kissing and touching and through it you both messily and awkwardly helped each other remove the rest of the clothes that separated you. As soon as your breasts were bared to him, Bucky couldn’t hold back, latching onto your puckered nipples, one after the other, drawing squeaks and moans from you, more intoxicating than any sounds he’d imagined in his private imaginings. 

His right hand skirted down your body, finding its way between your legs and you opened for him. He moaned around breast as he found your wetness and began to toy with you. Bucky teased your clit and stroked your folds, captivated by how more arousal spilled from you. When he slid a testing finger into you, you gripped his hair and arched into his hand, your soft mewl turning to a strangled gasp and he felt undeniably powerful, a small part of him, one he didn’t want to really acknowledge, feeling as though he was competing with the memory of his father. He was determined to erase it. After tonight there would only be him.

When Bucky added a second finger into your warm channel and circled his thumb on your clit, you whimpered his name. Not ‘Your Majesty’ or ‘Sire’, but ‘Bucky’ as he’d asked you. He lifted his head and rose back up your body, capturing your lips and swallowing your cries as he drove you higher and higher. Your hands now clutched his shoulders, your short, manicured nails digging into him, using him as an anchor, lest you float away into the ether. He felt your body quiver beneath him as you neared the precipice of your pleasure and then the next second you were tumbling over it, your body spasming around his fingers, your mouth drawing all the oxygen from his lungs into your own.

Bucky kissed you through it, slowing his hand before pulling it away slowly. He shifted on the bed, kneeling between your limp legs, and as you watched him with hooded, lust filled eyes, he brought his fingers to his mouth and tasted your essence. He groaned as he did so, promising himself that he would drink directly from your source soon, but he couldn’t hold back his desire to fully claim you any longer. 

As his hand dropped to his cock, your eyes followed it, and you took your first real look at him. He couldn’t help but smile as your eyes widened and you tentatively raised your own hand towards his erection. He took hold of it and wrapped it around his length, marvelling at how your fingers didn’t meet. Your gaze flicked between his face and his cock, unsure which you wanted to watch. However, after a few minutes it was too torturous, and he repositioned himself to kiss you again and run his cock between your wet folds. Your hips rolled beneath him as you let out small whimpers of need and desire and he couldn’t hold back any longer.

Bucky reached between you, lined himself up and sank into your warmth.

The cry of ecstasy you let out caught him by surprise and he looked down into your eyes. The truth shone out of them as you pulled in breath after ragged breath, your body struggling to adjust to his size, despite what he’d done to you only minutes before. He couldn’t really process it, but an animalistic part of him howled in pleasure at the realisation that you’d been untouched and consumed any remaining restraint.

Bucky snapped his hips, watching in awe as your eyes rolled in your head and the breath was pushed from your lungs. It was an addictive sight and he thrust into you again and again, unable to stop, needing to see your reaction. You clutched his biceps as he braced himself, your head thrown back and he never wanted to see you any other way - debauched and ruined on his cock. 

“God, you’re so fucking beautiful. Can you touch yourself for me, sweetheart?”

You mumbled incoherently but did as he’d asked, your hand moving between you, and Bucky knew when you’d found your centre from the way you clenched around him. He groaned at the sensation and let it spur him on. He dipped his hips, changing the angle of his thrusts and when you let out a wail he knew he’d found the right spot.

“That’s it, beautiful. Come apart for me. Come on my cock.” 

You screamed and spasmed around him and his rational brain knew he should pull out and spill himself over the sheets, but he couldn’t. He couldn’t not have this. He cried out, throwing back his own head, and surrendered to the inevitable.

It took you a while to come back to yourself, because what you’d just experience was so different from what you’d been told about. The King - Bucky - was cuddled up behind you, his arms holding you close and his nose pressed into your hair, dozing. You turned in his embrace and his long, dark eyelashes fluttered open.

“Hi,” you breathed cautiously, unsure of how you should be acting. However, when he softly smiled at you, you felt your heart leap inside your chest.

“Hello, yourself.” He dropped a gentle kiss to your lips and you smiled in return and relaxed. He was obviously content to stay in your private, intimate bubble for at least a short time more and you were more than happy to indulge him. You didn’t want to think about how you’d feel when this ended, it would hurt too much.

Pushing yourself up onto one elbow you looked down at him and idly traced invisible designs across his chest with your finger tip.

“So, Bucky, huh? Where does that come from?” 

He chuckled at your teasing tone. “From my sister, Princess Rebecca. Or as I call her, Becca-Boo or Sprout. My second name is Buchanan, and when she was learning to talk she couldn’t say it. Whenever she said ‘Bucky’ it would make me laugh, so she kept doing it and then refused to call me anything else. Then my mother picked it up, because if she called me James, Becca would stamp her foot and tell her off. And I liked it. It helped me separate the two parts of myself - Bucky, the normal man with normal wants, desires and hobbies etcetera, and James, heir to the throne, with duties and responsibilities who has to keep himself apart from those around him.”

There was a melancholy tone to his words, and you couldn’t help but bend down and press a light kiss to his lips. “Well I like Bucky.”

He brought his hand up to the nape of your neck, returning the kiss, and you wished that reality could just stay firmly outside for the rest of time.

When Bucky broke the kiss, he looked up at you with searching eyes.

“Why didn’t you say anything?” he asked quietly and you immediately knew what he was talking about. You shrugged one shoulder.

“Does it matter? Would it have changed what just happened between us? Would you have thought differently of me?”

“No, it wouldn’t have changed what just happened, but I won’t lie and say I wouldn’t have treated you differently. I thought harshly of you, driven by jealousy. How could I allow myself to like you, desire you, when you had lain with my father? I was jealous of a ghost for having claimed you first, and I hated myself for feeling that way. That was why I acted coldly to you when we conversed in the solar. What you said. You made it sound as if you’d enjoyed being with him and ugly thoughts filled my head.” Bucky’s brow furrowed as he spoke and you itched to smooth out the lines that formed there.

“Well, it isn’t really the done thing to speak out loud about the King’s impotence,” you pointed out. “Especially with his own son. I was trying to answer truthfully, but without going into detail. And I suppose I did enjoy spending time with him. He may not have been the type of father you wished, or the husband your mother wanted, but he was still a man. We’d talk, mostly. I like to think that I gave him some comfort and companionship. I can’t say that I’m unhappy about the way things turned out.” You looked at him coyly from under your lashes and he laughed.

“You liked being claimed by me? You wanton wretch,” he teased.

“It was definitely different, and much better, than what I’d been led to believe.” He growled playfully, and in one deft move rose up and pushed you back to the mattress, caging you in with his arms. You brought your hand up and brushed the back of it over his cheek. “If I’m going to be a concubine, I’m glad that I’m yours.”

At your words, Bucky reared back, as if you’d slapped him and you immediately started to apologise. “I’m sorry, Sire. I shouldn’t have presumed…” Shame and guilt washed over you at how far you’d sunk into your daydream, and you fought your way out of the sheets. Rising from the bed, you found your shift in the heap of clothing on the floor and pulled it over your head. “I will leave you to your dressing and wait for instructions from Master Coulson later.” You bobbed a curtsey and turned toward the door, your hand reaching for the handle, eager to put space between you.

“Stop!” His command made you freeze mid step, your arm lowering back to your side. In a moment he was behind you, his hands firmly gripping your upper arms.

“You are not my concubine. I never wanted one, and I won’t start now.” He spun you, and when you didn’t raise your head, staring instead at a freckle near his collarbone, he tucked a finger under your chin and made you look at him. “You deserve more than that, my darling.” His tone softened. “You will be my wife. That is, if you will have me?”

You looked at him in shock. “What? How can I be your wife? You are the King and I am, well, just me.”

“And as the King, I can do what I want. And for anyone who gets pedantic about your previous status, there is precedent. Concubines have been turned into Queens before.”

You pulled yourself from his hold, raising your arms up in confusion. “You do not need to speak of marriage, just because you have bedded me and do not want a concubine.”

“This is not solely because we have lain together, sweet fool. I love you.”

His words made you stop and you wondered if you’d misheard, but he continued. 

“I fear I have done since I first laid eyes on you. And I just hope that maybe you can learn to love me too. Bucky, that is. Not just James, your King.” He reached out imploringly toward you. You looked back at him and then at his hand, before accepting it as you stepped forward, a broad smile making its way across your face.

“Learn to love you? That implies that I don’t already. How could I not, even if you were being grumpy and contrary.”

He wrapped you up in his embrace and looked down at you, eyes full of mischief. “Contrary? Is that anyway to speak to your King?”

“It is how a Queen speaks to her husband,” you joked back.

“Is that so? Then I must make you my Queen as soon as possible.” He closed the remaining distance between you, kissing you with vigour before lifting you and returning you both to the bed.

“However, nothing can be done until tomorrow. Whatever shall we do until then?” he drawled with mock innocence.

“I have a few ideas, Your Majesty,” you replied, mimicking his tone.

He shook his head. “Bucky, remember?”

“Bucky,” you agreed.

The End

Tag list: @christywrites, @alexakeyloveloki, @wolfsmom1, @doasyoudesireandlive, @sonatabee-blog, @goldylions, @galactusdevourerofworlds, @apenny4thots, @crayongirl-linz, @mrs-illyrian-baby, @wheezy-stucky, @km-ffluv

#Bucky x Reader #Historical AU #historical romance #Bucky Barnes x you #buckybarnesbingo2023 #Bucky barnes fluff #Bucky Barnes angst #Bucky barnes smut

[sebastianstansqueen]

Lost in The Shadows Masterlist

A/n: Here is the new story, we'll see what happens, as always to be tagged go to tagglist link in my bio or just down below, or send an ask, message or comment on this.

Summary: Y/n was a whisper on everyone in New York's lips, she practically ran the state, for the most part. She was only twenty-five and getting ready to find her third husband, she sat behind the desk where her father, and then her second husband sat once, and now she did.

(Mechanic!Bucky x Mob/Mafia Boss!Reader)

Tagglist // Masterlist 

{ Part 1 }

{ Part 2 }

{ Part 3 }

{ Part 4 }

{ Part 5 }

{ Part 6 }

{ Part 7 }

{ Part 8 }

{ Part 9 }

{ Part 10 }

{ Part 11 }

{ Part 12 }

{ Part 13 }

{ Part 14 }

{ Part 15 }

{ Part 16 }

{Part 17 -End-}

#bucky x reader #bucky x you #bucky barnes #marvel #bucky x y/n #bucky barnes x reader #sebastian stan x reader #sebastian stan #mob!bucky x reader #james buchanan bucky barnes #mob au #avengers mob au #mob!au #mob sebastian stan x reader #mob!bucky smut #mafia!bucky x reader #mafia romance #mafia!bucky #mafia bucky x reader #mechanic!bucky x reader #bucky x mob!reader #bucky x mafia!reader

[the-iceni-bitch]

𝕾𝖙𝖗𝖔𝖓𝖌 𝖆𝖘 𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝕰𝖆𝖗𝖙𝖍 𝖋𝖗𝖔𝖒 𝖂𝖍𝖎𝖈𝖍 𝕳𝖊'𝖘 𝕭𝖔𝖗𝖓

𝙼𝚒𝚗𝚘𝚝𝚊𝚞𝚛 𝙱𝚞𝚌𝚔𝚢 𝙱𝚊𝚛𝚗𝚎𝚜

𝙻𝚒𝚏𝚎 𝚊𝚝 𝚌𝚘𝚞𝚛𝚝 𝚒𝚜 𝚜𝚝𝚒𝚏𝚕𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚞𝚗𝚋𝚎𝚊𝚛𝚊𝚋𝚕𝚎. 𝙸𝚝 𝚒𝚜 𝚊 𝚐𝚘𝚙𝚍 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚑𝚊𝚟𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚋𝚎𝚊𝚜𝚝 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚕𝚒𝚟𝚎𝚜 𝚒𝚗 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚛𝚞𝚒𝚗𝚜 𝚝𝚘 𝚜𝚘𝚘𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚑𝚎𝚊𝚛𝚝.

𝙰𝚕𝚟𝚒𝚗𝚘𝚕𝚊𝚐𝚗𝚒𝚊 ~ 𝙿𝚊𝚛𝚝𝚒𝚊𝚕𝚒𝚜𝚖 𝚒𝚗 𝚠𝚑𝚘𝚌𝚑 𝚊𝚗 𝚒𝚗𝚍𝚒𝚟𝚒𝚍𝚞𝚊𝚕 𝚒𝚜 𝚜𝚎𝚡𝚞𝚊𝚕𝚕𝚢 𝚊𝚝𝚝𝚛𝚊𝚌𝚝𝚎𝚍 𝚝𝚘 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚖𝚒𝚍𝚛𝚒𝚏𝚏 𝚘𝚛 𝚋𝚎𝚕𝚕𝚢

𝙰𝚗𝚊𝚜𝚝𝚎𝚎𝚖𝚊𝚙𝚑𝚒𝚕𝚒𝚊 ~ 𝙰 𝚜𝚎𝚡𝚞𝚊𝚕 𝚊𝚝𝚝𝚛𝚊𝚌𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗 𝚝𝚘 𝚒𝚗𝚒𝚟𝚒𝚍𝚞𝚊𝚕𝚜 𝚘𝚏 𝚜𝚒𝚐𝚗𝚒𝚏𝚒𝚌𝚊𝚗𝚝𝚕𝚢 𝚍𝚒𝚏𝚏𝚎𝚛𝚎𝚗𝚝 𝚑𝚎𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝𝚜

Words: 1.3k

Relationship: minotaur!Bucky Barnes x chubby!prince male reader

Warnings: explicit language, explicit sexual content (m/m sex, fellatio, rimming), soft reassuring Bucky, fatphobia, self-loathing language, hurt/comfort, SMUT!!! 18+ ONLY!!

A/N: Who knows, maybe I’ll actually get all of these churned out before February. Wouldn’t that be neat?

You told yourself you were not going to cry. Not in front of your brothers, and definitely not in front of your father.

Your little mental pep talk did nothing to stop the stinging in your eyes, though. It was hard to stay strong when they were being so cruel. The flat of one of their tourney swords smacked against your stomach when you missed your chance to shield it and all of them laughed. All of them except your father, who just looked angry and disappointed in you. Just like he always did.

The hours in the training yard were always torturous, but they had become especially unbearable ever since your mother had announced her intention to begin the process of finding you a wife. For some reason their taunts about your soft belly and questioning of your manhood began to sting all the more. Not even your haven in the library was safe, you could hear their japes and laughter following you through the corridors of your family’s castle. You hated it, and you hated them, the prospect of finally running away becoming more and more tempting as their unkindness grew to be too much.

Today you didn’t think you could take it. As soon as training was complete and you were out of your leathers you made your way to the castle gate, trying your best not to run and give them further cause to torment you. You couldn’t be around them anymore. There was only one place where you felt truly safe, truly yourself.

The ruins at the edge of the city took less than half an hour to reach, and as soon as you saw them you felt a sense of peace. The broken fountains still flowed with clear, sweet water that you could drink or bathe in, fragrant flowers bloomed in the shade of the shattered rocky walls, and soft grass covered the ground that wind through a labyrinth of stones and statues.

But the thing that made this place feel truly like your refuge was hidden, known only to you and yours alone. You heard the deep rumble of his voice before you even saw him, the tears you had been struggling to hold back beginning to fall as you let yourself collapse on a bed of hyacinths.

“Little prince?” You could feel his massive hooves making the earth tremble as he rounded the corner to find you, trying to smile in spite of yourself and failing miserably. “What is wrong, my love? Why do you cry?”

“The same reason I always cry.” As soon as Bucky knelt next to you you rested your head in his lap, letting out a pathetic sob but unable to care when he stroked your head with a massive hand. “I hate my father and my brothers, they make me so miserable. Maybe I really will just live here with you and survive off honey and wine.”

“It is not a bad way to live, little prince.” Bucky smiled warmly at you when you turned your body so you could peer at his face. “But you deserve all the riches and spoils of castle life. My little prince should be pampered.”

“I’m too pampered.” Your little huff of frustration made Bucky chuckle. “I am! I’m soft and weak. Even though I hate hearing it from them I know they’re right.”

“That’s enough.” The deep growl of Bucky’s voice let you know he was not pleased with you speaking about yourself in such a way, and you swallowed the rest of your self-loathing when you saw his brow furrow. He was suddenly pinning you to the ground and blowing out heavy breaths that warmed your face, and you were reminded just how enormous the minotaur you had taken for a love was. “You are not weak, and your softness is beautiful. Would a weak man let a monster love him? Would a weak man be able to show such vulnerability? I will not listen to you say such things about yourself, not when you are the man I am in love with. I do not know how many times I will have to show you just how much you are worth, but I will do it over and over again.”

Your attempt to argue was quickly muffled by his lips, every thought in your head suddenly disappearing when his thick, warm tongue lapped at yours and his hands tugged at your tunic. Before you knew it you were bare beneath him, gazing up at him with widened eyes when he pulled back from your kiss then whimpering as he began to nuzzle his way down your torso.

“Buck…”

“Hush.” He stopped at the soft bulge of your stomach, kissing every inch of skin reverently as your cock started to twitch and grow hard. “Just let me love you, little prince.”

All you could do was sigh and let your eyes drift closed as he kept kissing and licking your stomach, relishing the feeling of his strong hands gripping your fleshy thighs and spreading them wide while he worshiped his favorite part of you. He adored how soft and bountiful your body was, how sensitive you were to his ministrations and the noises that escaped from you when you finally relax and let him love you like you deserved. When you giggled at the ring in his nose tickling your navel you could feel him grinning against your skin, a soft chuff of his breath warming your stomach before his tongue flicked out to tease the head of your cock.

His mouth on you was like elysium, your body rolling under him and your breath leaving you in a whine as he began to drag his broad, heavy tongue along the length of you. Bucky always did his best to take his time and appreciate every inch of you, but you couldn’t help but get worked up so quickly it was almost embarrassing. You never really could be embarrassed around your minotaur, though. He knew every inch of you and loved you just the same. He was the only truly comforting thing in your life. And by the gods, he made you feel incredible.

Hours or merely seconds may have passed since he started licking your cock. Time lost all meaning when you were with him like this, but you would never complain about it. When his lips wrapped around you it was impossible to keep yourself from moaning obscenely, your back arching as he began to take you deeper and deeper into his hot, wet mouth.

Then his tongue slithered lower, dragging over your balls then even further even as he kept his lips wrapped tightly around your cock. Your body arched and you cried out beneath him when he started to lap at your sensitive rim, barely holding yourself back from erupting in his mouth. But then Bucky hummed around you and you couldn’t contain yourself any longer, digging your fingers into the soft grass beneath you as you filled Bucky’s mouth with your seed.

“Mmmm,” Bucky grinned and licked his lips as he pulled away from you, winking when you could only whimper in response to the sight of your cum dribbling from the corner of his mouth. “My little prince is so sweet. Was that enough or do you still need to be convinced you are worthy of being cherished?”

“It… it was more than enough.” You sighed when he kissed you, laughing softly when he wrapped you in his arms and rolled onto his back so you were laying on top of him. “I can never stay sad when I know you love me, Bucky.”

#natalie writes #monstrous mayhem #kinktober 2023 #minotaur!bucky barnes #bucky barnes #bucky #bucky barnes x male reader #bucky x male reader #marvel x male reader #bucky x reader #male reader #male!reader #chubby reader #eighteen plus #m/m romance #m/m smut #m/m fanfic #marvel au

[remixingreality]

#ai art #male art #true romance #stucky #captain america #winter solider fan art #bucky barnes #gay art #mcu fanart #gay fanart

[sjsmith56]

Ride With Me - Chapter 16, Finding Jade

Summary: Bucky shows up unannounced at Ma’s place outside Santa Fe. Jade, initially excited to see him, gives him a hard time when he asks her to take him back.

Length: 5.6K

Characters: Bucky Barnes, Jade, Ben, Ma.

Warnings: For readers over the age of age of 18+ due to sexual content. Minors do not interact. Residual anger at Bucky mostly as Jade acts like a bitch towards him.

Author’s notes: final chapter. Originally my apocalyptic tale was much more bleak, filled with angst and suffering but as the story progressed it became more about people finding connection and hope.  Especially Bucky, who never wanted to be looked upon as a leader and decided to go back to get Steve, knowing the group needed his reliable authority.  It allowed Bucky, without that pressure on him, to come up with a low-tech tactic that he could test with strangers before offering it to the Avengers.   Finally, about Jade...I didn't want the usual pretty girl.  The model, whose image I used on the cover, is an Australian, Ollie Henderson.  For a time she went all blonde to get a totally different look from her usual brunette hair.  Jade had to be visually, mentally and psychologically different due to her childhood trauma with the religious cult.  When she took Bucky's memories into her own consciousness I wanted to show how it upset the yin and yang that was their relationship, leading to their breakup. 

<<Chapter 15

🏍️🏜️

Eight months after Bucky left the Bunker.  Four days after Bucky left New York.

Jade was busy scrubbing the dirt off the rocks she had collected that morning.  There were some good specimens in there.  Good enough to bring in some money at the rock hounds sale in Santa Fe in a month once she sliced and polished them.   The rock hounds club in Albuquerque had asked her to set up a table there but she had declined.  Still too many dark memories of that town.  She could hear Ben laughing in the house and looked at Ma.

"He's talking to Peter," she said.  "He's supposed to be teaching him but they're talking about gaming."

"Can you tell them both to get back at it?" she asked.  "Honestly, you would think Peter would know better.  I've a good mind to phone May."

Ma laughed.  "You're sounding more and more like a normal mother every day," she said.  "What happened to you?"

"Don't go there, Ma," said Jade.  "It was my decision.  Normal mother sounds good to me right now."

She bent back over the bucket and scrubbed too hard on the one stone.  She splashed water on her shorts but ignored it as the dry New Mexico air would take care of it.  It had been almost nine months since the showdown with the cult in Albuquerque, eight and a half months since they implemented the plan to destroy all the Others' queens, eight months since she last saw or heard from Bucky.  That wasn't quite true as he sent a postcard from New York City, showing it being rebuilt after the attack on the Others there.  All it said was "Thinking of you, Bucky".  That had been over a month ago and since then, nothing from him directly. 

Peter had sent out little snippets of information since they all left, complete with links to news video coverage.  About six weeks after Bucky left there was a live streaming event of a news crew at Avengers HQ shadowing the various members of the Avengers.  Some of them like Steve, Peter and Sam were very open and informative.  Scott was very popular being the friendly man that he was in real life.  Bucky was reclusive, not wanting to be filmed or interviewed.  When they did finally get him in a sit down situation he was abrupt and clearly uncomfortable.  The footage of him and Steve taking on a series of nests by themselves and running so fast as they dropped off the flash bangs that they were both a blur was popular, generating a lot of likes on social media. 

Just a month and a half ago the Avengers were given the Presidential Medal of Freedom with Distinction and the Congressional Gold Medal for their efforts in fighting the Others.  A week later they were interviewed on CBS Mornings in New York in the rebuilt Times Square with fans behind security barriers holding up signs naming their favourites.  The signs with Bucky's name were being held by predominantly female fans.  His reclusive nature had appealed to a certain type of woman who all thought he should show his face more.  The hosts showed a picture of Bucky with his short hair working on his motorcycle to the screams of his female fans.  Word from Peter was that Bucky was still debating whether to stay in New York with the Avengers.  Apparently his decision was still unknown. 

She heard Cherry nicker in her paddock and called to the mare, one of the three horses the Avengers had bought from the outfitter.  Cherry was the first one she had connected with and they still had a good relationship, just not a telepathic one anymore.  Apple, a chestnut mare, and Butch, a roan gelding, had also made the trip to their home.  Clint would have liked to take them to Missouri but thought it was too long a trip to subject them to so when she and Ma moved near Santa Fe after finding that big hunk of gold they brought the horses with them.  Drying her hands she went over to the fence.

"What is it, girl?" she asked.  "Am I not giving you enough attention?"

She felt inside the food bucket and brought out a piece of carrot for each of them, stroking their necks as they crunched through their favourite vegetable.  Two miles away where the road to their property came off the highway she caught the sound of a big motorcycle, loud and loved by gear heads, slowing down on the highway and turning onto their road.  At first she thought it was somebody using it to turn around but the dust plume from the rear of the bike kept coming closer.  Buddy sat up, his ears perked forward, watching the rider approach.

"We have company!" she yelled. 

Ma came forward, peering at the approaching motorcycle.  Then a smile crossed her face but she said nothing other than it was a friendly.  She went back to her garden leaving Jade to greet the visitor.  Jade waited and the biker finally pulled up in front of her.  It was a man and after he stopped he tugged off his leather gloves.  It was then she noticed the black metal hand.

"Bucky?" she said.

He took his helmet off and she rushed to him.

"Hold on," he said, smiling.  "Let me get off the bike."

As soon as he was off the bike she jumped into his arms wrapping her legs around him.  He wrapped her in his arms, running his hand through her hair and kissing her when she finally raised her face to his.  Buddy started barking happily, his tail wagging as he recognized Bucky.  Ma came forward then with a big smile on her face.

"About time you got here," she said.  "Poor girl has been pining away for you."

"I wanted to come sooner," he said, "but I had obligations.  I'm on leave for a month so I'll be hanging around, if that's okay."

"You're always welcome, Bucky," said Ma affectionately, "always."

Jade was crying now, still wrapped around his waist.  He held her like a baby, stroking her back and talking softly into her ear.  It took a few minutes before she relinquished her hold on him and turned away, wiping her face.  By that time Ben had heard the commotion and came to the door.

"Bucky!" he said, running to him and giving him a hug. 

"Jesus, kid," said Bucky, rubbing the boy's hair.  "What the hell is your mom feeding you?  You've grown almost a foot since I last saw you."

"Ma says it's a growth spurt," replied Ben.  "I've got hair growing in strange places, too.  And you wouldn't believe what I wake up to some mornings."

Bucky burst out laughing.  Ben was still the most direct kid he ever knew, not that he knew many.  But if anyone could get through puberty without trauma it would probably be him.  Everything was just normal to him. 

"How come you never called or wrote?" demanded Jade, anger replacing her tears.  "I received one postcard with one sentence in almost eight months.  We have a phone you know."

"I know," he said.  "I have no excuse other than things have been hectic with the hunt for Others nests.  The military is taking over a lot of the hunts now so the Avengers get to go back to being the Avengers."

"Does that mean you're staying in New York?" asked Jade, a little fearful.

"Well, no, not exactly," he said.  "I'm staying with the Avengers but they want a permanent presence at the Bunker now.  Bruce already decided to stay there and I kind of like the peace and quiet."

"Which is why you have one of the noisiest bikes, right?" said Ma, laughing.

"What can I say, I'm a complicated guy," he said.  "Jade, would you take a ride on my bike with me?"

"Only if you go horseback riding with me before dinner," she said.  "Those are my terms."

"Fair enough," he said smiling.  "I could use a drink and the use of your bathroom."

"Ben, get Bucky a beer," said Ma.  "Come sit in the cool of my garden when you're done."

Bucky took his back pack off, and went inside, ducking his head at the low door.  Ben pointed to the bathroom.  When he came outside he went under the pergola and took his leather jacket off.  A beer was sitting on a side table near Jade.  She patted the open space beside her.  He took a long drink of the beer and looked at the three with warmth.  They still felt like family to him. 

"Tell us everything," said Ma. "How is everyone?"

"Peter is in university, but you already knew that," he said.  "Steve is in charge of the Avengers and is doing a ton of recruiting, Sam is still Captain America.  He and Maria went back to Louisiana but he's on call all the time and can pretty much fly anywhere in the country within an hour.  Scott and Hope are staying in California but they're on call as well.  Clint decided to retire but I think he'll be bored out of his skull in six months.  He had a protégé all ready to take over from him, named Kate Bishop.  She lived with his family during the occupation.  Wanda is Wanda.  She'll be there if and when we need her.  Strange is kind of working with Steve to find suitable Avenger candidates.  King T'Challa died but his sister Shuri and Queen Ramonda lived.  They will get Wakanda back on its feet in no time.  Still no sign of Thor or the Guardians.  New Asgard survived and Valkyrie still rules there.  That leaves me.  How have you all been?"

"Ma and Bruce are dating," said Ben.

"I just go out there and spend time with him," said Ma quickly.  "I wouldn't call it dating. It's not like we go anywhere.  We just enjoy each other's company."

"But you do sleep together, Ma," said Jade with a mischievous look in her eyes.  "I can tell."

Bucky looked at Ma, smiling.  "Seriously?" he said. "You and Bruce?  Nice."

She didn't say a thing, just sat there with a small smile on her face. 

"Did you ride your motorcycle from New York?" asked Ben.

"I did," said Bucky.  "I packed some clothes in my back pack and headed out on the road, all the way here."

"What are your intentions?" asked Jade, suddenly.

"That's why I want you to take a ride with me," replied Bucky.

"Take the ride, Mom," said Ben.  "Oh, sorry, was that out loud?"

"You've been hanging out with Peter too much," said Bucky smiling.  "But he's right.  Take the ride with me, Jade, please."

She agreed and when Bucky finished his beer she put on her jean jacket, which was actually his jean jacket that she stole when they still lived in the Bunker.  He looked at her bare legs beneath her shorts.

"You should put some jeans on," he said. 

"I'm fine," she said.  "Lead on."

He shrugged and gave her his helmet to wear.  Then he mounted the bike, started it up, and waited for her to get on and wrap her arms around him.  He carefully drove the two mile road to the highway and set off for wherever he fancied.  After about 15 minutes he saw a sign for a state park lookout and pulled into it.  She got off the bike and took the helmet off.  He lifted his right leg over the bike and sat facing her, pulling her in close.  She lifted her right leg and leaned on him with her knee on his thigh.

"I am sorry," he said, touching her face.  "I should have never left but all I heard in my head was you telling me to leave."

"I also told you I would talk to you later but you just flew off the handle and left without even saying goodbye," replied Jade, trying not to cry.

He pulled her in even more so their bodies were touching, cradling her face in his right hand, while his left hand was on her hands behind her back.

"I regretted it the moment I was on the highway but my pride wouldn't let me come back,"  he said softly.  "I wanted to call since then but I wasn't sure you would talk to me after I left without a word to you.  Me deciding not to call was easier than hearing you say you wouldn't talk to me."

"No excuse," she said, pulling away and standing several feet from him.  "It was just a stupid argument.  I thought you didn't want me anymore after my decision."

"What? No!" he exclaimed.  "That had nothing to do with it.  You had to do what was best for you.  I respect that.  What we experienced together, that will be special forever.  But I fell in love with you, not your gift."

She sighed and walked away from him towards the fence overlooking the view.  He came over and leaned on the fence next to her.  They didn't speak for a few minutes.

"You cut your hair," she said.  "I liked it long.  But you look good all the same."

"We had to do some media stuff and one of the criticisms of my appearance was it made me look homeless or like a motorcycle gang member," he smirked.  "Not the image they wanted for the new incarnation of the Avengers.  It's already grown some and won't take long to grow longer, if you like it that way."

"Why should I have any say in it?" she asked.  "It's not like we're a couple anymore."

"That's why I'm here," he said, turning to her.  "I never wanted to leave you.  When we were together I always thought we would get married, maybe have a kid or two."

"Then why did you leave?" she yelled, trying not to cry.  "Especially when I needed you so much?  I cried for days!"

She walked away from him to a place where a bench was and sat down, putting her face in her hands.  He watched her then walked over and sat next to her.  He reached inside his jacket and pulled out a black bandanna, offering it to her.  She took it, blew her nose and offered it back but he told her to keep it.

"Because I was an idiot," he said bluntly.  "Trust is hard for me, as hard as it is for you.  When you told me about Strange and Wanda removing your abilities I was hurt that you would take that step without talking to me.  It was always your decision, I get that, but I wanted to have my say before you did it.  I over reacted and said some shit to you because that's who I am sometimes.  I tried to take it back as soon as I said it but you wouldn't listen so I did what I'm really good at.  I ran away, and I've been miserable without you ever since.  I even trashed a building when I realized how stupid I had been."

"So why are you here, Bucky?" she asked, poking him in the chest.  "Why are you really here?"

"I'm going to be stationed at the Bunker, permanently," he said, grasping her hand and stroking the back of it.  "Starting in a month.  I want you to come with me, Ben and Ma as well, if they want.  I want to marry you."

He didn't know what he was expecting but yanking her hand out of his, picking up a bunch of rocks and throwing them over the fence wasn't it.  She stood there after, her nostrils flaring, her eyes glaring and looking ready to burst.

"You have your nerve," she said defiantly. "We bought that place with the gold we found.  It's ours, completely ours. We have a good life here and you want us to uproot everything to go and live in that concrete box again?"

"Okay," he said carefully and calmly.  "Then marry me, stay here during the week and either come to me for the weekends or I come here.  Lot's of couples do it.  I don't want to be without you again, Jade.  I've been miserable since we broke up.  Whatever you want, I'll do it, anything except quit the Avengers.  It's what I do best and I like it."

She sat back down next to him and looked at him.  "This is when I miss my gift," she said.  "This is when I would take a peek in your brain and see if you were serious.  I can't tell because I never had to develop the human ability to tell when a person was full of shit."

"Do you still love me?" he asked.  "I think you do, otherwise you wouldn't have greeted me the way you did."

"Yes," she admitted.  "I don't know why but I do."

"Sure you do," he said.  "You know why you love me.  Say the reasons.  I'll start.  I make you feel safe."

She looked at him expressionless until he raised his eyebrows.

"You listen," she carried on reluctantly.  "Your body makes me weak in the knees.  Your eyes are like the ocean.  Your voice is so soft and silky that it makes me wet with desire.  Your stupid face is in my dreams every night.  You've ruined me for other men.  I don't want anyone else.  I want you."

The last parts were spoken with a whisper as she struggled to keep her composure but he heard her loud and clear.

"Then say you'll marry me and we'll work out how we do this," he said quietly.  "Because I want you, too.  I love you and I want a life with you, however we make it work."

"I have to think about it," she said.  "Really think.  I'll give you my answer when we take our horseback ride."

"Okay," he said, satisfied for now.  "Let's go back, before Ma thinks I kidnapped you."

Only love can bring the rain

That makes you yearn to the sky

Only love can bring the rain

That falls like tears from on high

Love, Reign O'er Me by The Who

"It's raining," said Bucky, looking out the window.  "We won't be able to ride."

Jade looked outside.  "It's virga," she said.  "Rain that evaporates before it hits the ground.  Stop trying to back out."

She had already saddled Butch for Bucky and was just saddling Cherry.  Even without her gift she could tell Bucky was nervous about riding Butch, but it was so needless.  Butch was a big softie of a horse, calm and compliant.  A baby could ride him.  She finished tightening the straps and stood beside Butch.

"Want a hand up?" she asked, sarcastically.

"No, I remember how," he said, miffed.

He put his foot in the stirrup and lifted himself up onto Butch.  Jade mounted Cherry with ease and she pulled the reins to take the trail leading away from their house.

"We're off, Ma," she yelled.  "Back at sunset."

"Dinner will be ready," Ma yelled back, watching them go, calling back Buddy, then whispering.  "Say yes, you silly girl."

"Stay on the path," said Jade.  "There are rattlesnakes around."

"Where are we going?" he asked, bringing himself alongside her.

"To a nice view," she said. 

"Thanks for giving me my jean jacket," he said. 

"You're welcome," she replied. 

"You're not going to make this easy for me, are you?" he asked. 

"No, I'm not," she snapped back.  "There's something about being kidnapped by a religious nut bar who expected me to lay on my back and spread my legs for him that changes a person, especially when he turned out to be my father.  You want me?  You woo me."

She rode a little faster to get ahead of Bucky.  He realized she was doing it deliberately to hurt him physically since he was such a lousy rider.  Swallowing his pride he encouraged Butch to go faster and he caught up to her. 

"How can I woo you if you won't slow down?" he asked.

"Aren't I worth a little discomfort?" she retorted.  "I recall you saying you would die for me.  This isn't death, just hard on the ass."

"Man, you have really become quite mean since you gave up your gift," he said pointedly.  "Lost all of your empathy, your calmness, your good manners."

Jade smirked and rode even faster.  She turned around to look behind her and didn't see Bucky.  She stopped and turned Cherry around only to have Bucky whip by her from the opposite direction.  He looked back with a big grin on his face as he expertly pulled up.

"Son of a bitch," she muttered.  "He took riding lessons."

He rode back to her and she saw he was quite at home in the saddle.   With grace, she smiled and conceded a draw.  She led him back onto the original path and they finally came to the spot she wanted him to see, a view of rolling hills to the west as the sun was low. 

"This is a nice view.  I missed these sunsets," he said while he looked out over the vista.  "I took riding lessons when I was researching a delivery method that didn't depend on me and Steve running all over the place.  I'm not as good as you, obviously, but I can handle it."

"The horse detachments...that was you? Did you also do it for me?" she asked. 

"Partly yeah, I did," he said.  "What Clint said about the Others not being threatened by the horses stuck with me and I worked on the idea.  Then as I got more comfortable riding I knew I wanted to come back and ride with you. When I found out you brought the horses here it became a goal for me.  I envisioned us doing this, going for a leisurely ride just before sunset, when the light was golden.  I imagined us bringing our horses close together, and me leaning over, and kissing you."

He did the movements he described as he said them.  After kissing her he sat back in his saddle and pulled a small box out of his jean jacket.  Ma had given it to him in the house; she had kept it safe until he returned.

"I saw myself bringing this box out and showing you this ring that I made, with Ma's help, with the jade gemstone in it that you found on one of the best days we ever had together.  I practiced saying Jade Chambers, would you marry me?  I thought I did a pretty good job of it as well.  Of course, in my imagination you always said yes."

"You jerk," she whispered.  "Why did you have to go and make it so perfect?  Now I can't say no."

"Is that a yes?" he asked bringing Butch closer.

She didn't answer.

"Jade, will you marry me?" he asked, his horse right beside hers.

"Yes, it's a yes," she whispered back, trying not to cry. 

He leaned over and placed the ring on her finger, then pulled her close for a passionate kiss. 

"Does this mean you forgive me as well?" he asked innocently.

"That depends on tonight," she said, with a smile.  "But your chances are good."

"Then we better get back," he replied.  "Don't want to keep Ma waiting.  She's practically screaming in my head right now."

Jade laughed.  She took his vibranium hand in hers.  "I really missed you," she said, tears finally forming.  "I truly thought you didn't love me anymore.  That's when I missed my gift the most.  But I couldn't keep it, knowing there were people who thought it made me something I wasn't, a prophet, an object of worship, or a weapon.  That's why I did it.  It has changed me.  I'm not that strange anymore, except my looks.  That still causes peoples' heads to turn.  But then I open my mouth and they know I'm normal."

"I still worship you," he said sincerely.  "You're still beautiful inside and out.  We made love with the mental connection that one time and I will always remember how special it was.  It was a gift because I let you in and I had never let anyone into my head like that before or since.  You know my deepest darkest secrets and fears yet you still love me.  You will never be just normal to me, you will always be special."

They kissed again, and as if knowing, Butch and Cherry moved closer so the two riders didn't have to lean over as much.  They heard a rumble of thunder and looked around seeing a storm starting to develop in the distance.  Bucky turned Butch around and they started back for the homestead.  By the time they got back and had unsaddled and cooled down the horses a wind had picked up.  Ma called them in for dinner and commented they would get a good storm that night.  While they ate they could hear the incoming thunder but there was no visible lightning or rain until they had finished.  Ma looked at Bucky and Jade and told them to go on to bed upstairs, she and Ben could handle the cleanup. 

"Upstairs?" asked Bucky.  "I thought this was a single story ranch house?"

"Optical illusion," said Jade.  "Come on."

Bucky grabbed his back pack and they went up a narrow staircase to where a bedroom had been built in the attic with a skylight window facing north.  It was rustic and cozy, and it would be theirs.

"Who did this?" he asked. 

"Ma did some serious negotiating with some tradespeople for the staircase, window and the electrical," Jade replied.  "We did all the sanding.  I bought the furniture and bedding from some of my earnings."

"I thought you didn't think I was coming back," he said.

"Ma kept saying you would and her future seeing was always better than mine," she answered.

"Then why didn't the cult kidnap her to be their prophet?" asked Bucky.  "I always meant to ask that."

"Because she was past child bearing age," said Jade.  "Elder Abraham aka Dad said he was destined to be the father of greatness with the white haired mother of greatness, which was me, not her.  Enough talk."

"One more question," he said, "I promise.  You still have your implant?"

She lifted up her arm and showed him the small scar from the injection then lifted up her other arm with the faint but large scar where her father tried to carve out her birth control implant.  He touched the large scar then put his hand on her face and kissed her softly.  She kissed him back and they sat on the edge of the bed, caressing each other's face and hair.  Leaning forward she pulled his shirt off, tracing the edge of his prosthetic shoulder with her fingertips, then to his pectoral muscles before stopping at the top button of his jeans, undoing it.  He pulled her shirt off, smiling that she wasn't wearing a bra.  He pushed her down onto the bed to caress her breasts and kiss her neck.  Her pale skin glowed in the dim light then a bolt of lightning flashed across the sky, lighting everything up in its brilliance.  It was quickly followed by a crash of thunder.  They both undressed completely and got under the covers waiting for the next lightning flash.  As they waited they softly kissed and caressed, becoming familiar with  each other's bodies again.  By the time the thunderstorm started in earnest they weren't paying attention to it any more.  Instead Bucky was in her slowly thrusting himself deep as he kissed wherever his lips moved to.  Jade ran her hands down his back to his bottom squeezing and pulling him closer.  He started mouthing her ear and moved down to her breasts.  Pulling his face back to hers Jade kissed him, running her tongue over his before kissing him hard.  She clenched around him and he groaned feeling her tighten.  With a grin he ground his pelvis into her, connecting with her clitoris and drawing a large sigh from her as she lifted her face upwards towards him.  As they both got closer to the moment before their bodies would release in a flash of pleasure he brought his face down to her ear.

"I found you, Jade," he whispered.  "I saw you on Red Wing's surveillance video.  It was me who told Steve where you were while he was out on patrol.  All I saw was your hair, your beautiful glorious hair.  That's why I combed it out and washed it when you were still unconscious.  I wanted to see your hair."

"I know," she murmured back.  "I saw the memory in your head right at the beginning.  It's why I was attracted to you from the start.  You saw beauty in me before anyone else.  I saw it in you, too, James."

They kissed deeply for a long time still moving in rhythm as their passion built to a crescendo of cries and thrusts until they reached their pinnacle together.  She arched her back, crying out his name and he pressed himself into her neck with loud gasps.  Below them in the living room, Ben looked up.

"We'll be hearing that a lot for the next month," he said drolly, as he rolled the dice while they played Yahtzee.

"Why don't you put some music on?" said Ma.  "I know Peter gave you some playlists.  Let your grandmother listen."

Ben took out his iPad and connected to the Bluetooth speaker, then picked out his favourite playlist.  There were swear words in it but if Ma said to play it then he was going to play it.  Above the living room they were just coming down from their bliss.  Jade heard the music playing and her eyes grew big as she heard some of the words.  She was going to go downstairs and say something but Bucky grabbed her hand and pulled her back into his arms.

"It's a different world that we live in," he said, kissing her.  "He's a good kid.  Let him have his music.  He's probably playing it because we were a little loud.  You want him to listen to us having sex or a few swear words?"

He winced when The Penis Song by Macklemore came up.  "I'm going to kill Peter Parker," he said, flopping back in the bed.

Jade started laughing and kissed him again.  She laid on top of Bucky and looked at the engagement ring with her namesake gem stone in it and thought back to the day when they found the piece of jade together.  It was before the cult kidnapped her.  They were walking along the wash away from the Bunker.  Everyone had got into scouring the area for gemstones and Jade had shown them how to shape, sand and polish the stones.  The geodes had become popular as room décor once she showed them how to crack the rocks.  She had found the jade by accident, noticing a fossil exposed by the last rain.  Together they had uncovered parts of the fossil and debated digging it out but it was huge so Bucky made a GPS record of it for the time when they could notify the university about it.  Just beside it was a small piece of jade that had been scoured on the side facing up.  Bucky said it matched her eyes and asked if he could have it for a project.  She realized right at that moment that the ring had been the project.  He had worked on it since before the cult took her.  Looking at him, she smiled.

"The ring was the project," she said.  "You've wanted to marry me for a long time."

"Took you long enough," he replied, amused.

Pulling her into his arms he kissed her again and played with her soft fine hair that he had always loved.  For the next month they would be in this bed often when they wanted to be intimate.  They would also ride his bike, ride the horses, and he would start being a real father to Ben.  Working out how to have a long-distance marriage would take time but he knew in his heart they would definitely marry.  Then someday have a child together.  He had found his gem, his Jade, and no one would ever separate them again.

Things are beautiful if you love them.

Jean Anouilh

💍 👩‍❤️‍💋‍👨

Series Masterlist

I hope you all enjoyed this different take.   If you did, please like, comment or reblog.

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes fanfiction #buckybarnes original female character #steve rogers #sam wilson #alien invasion #soft bucky #bucky barnes romance

[cevansbrat0007]

Coming Soon: The Marked Ones

Introducing The Marked Ones, a brand new shifter romance featuring Bucky Barnes, Ari Levinson, and Steve Rogers on their quest to find their fated mates. More to come!

#cevansbrat0007 the marked ones #a fated mates romance #cevansbrat0007 fics #chris evans imagines #sebastian stan imagines #bucky barnes imagines #steve rogers imagines #ari levinson imagines #bucky barnes fanfiction #ari levinson fanfiction #steve rogers fanfiction #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x black!reader #ari levinson x black!reader #ari levinson x reader #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers x black!reader #bucky barnes x woc!reader #ari levinson x woc!reader #steve rogers x woc!reader #bucky barnes x female!reader #ari levinson x female!reader #steve rogers x female!reader #coming soon

[thesugarclubs-blog]

Moonlight - Bucky Barnes x OC

warnings: college au, hockey boy bucky, friends to lovers

word count: 6.2k

WP: https://www.wattpad.com/1418435295-moonlight-luna

Vibe: “I know.” He said with soft furrowed brows. “I’m real sorry Luna.”

She nodded and glanced around the stadium at everyone staring at them. “I forgive you.” She said looking back at him. “Anyone who is crazy enough to come out bare ass on the ice deserves that.” Luna grinned.

Masterlist

Luna loved her dorm room. It was quiet, strung with vine lights and just enough posters that the beige walls felt normal. The room quickly became her safe space. She loved it here. 

“Luuuuunaaa.” That familiar voice rang behind her door. 

She groaned but couldn’t help the smile that tugged at the corners of her lips. Sitting up in her bed, she waited a moment. “3…2…1–”

“Luna Jackson, I know you’re hiding in that cave, I will break this door down.” Bucky said, his voice muffled against the wood. She laughed knowing that he would probably try. “Is that a laugh I heard? Does the idea of me hurting myself just to see you make you laugh!” By now he was also laughing. 

Luna stood and grabbed the door, tugging it open with her signature frown. “My door isn’t a beer can tower you can just put your head through.” 

“I wore a helmet.” He smirked leaning against the door frame, “once. It really got in the way the second time…. And the third.” 

Luna raised a brow, “that explains so much.” 

He finally glanced down at her, that Barnes smile proving to send a shot of warmth straight to her belly. “You wound me, pretty girl.” 

“You’ll survive.” She grinned and turned on her heel to jump back onto her bed. 

Bucky tugged the back of her shirt shaking his head as she turned to look at him. “You aren’t crawling back into that bed. You promised you’d come to the rink with me.” 

“If I remember correctly you assumed I was coming.” She scowled. “The rink is cold and my bed is warm. Cozy warm. Makes you want hot chocolate and a good book warm.” 

He smirked. “If you come with me I’ll buy you a hot chocolate there.”

"Not the same thing," she pouted. "Not the same thing at all."

"I'll make sure you stay warm," he pressed, bouncing eagerly on the balls of his feet.

"Don't be perverse," Luna warned, screwing her face up in mock disgust.

"I meant that you could wear my jersey, jeez," Bucky huffed but there was a knowing smirk building in the corner of his mouth.

"You should be so lucky," she said but then let out a world-weary sigh. "Fine. Gimme ten minutes to change."

Crossing the room, Luna began pulling clothes from her closet. She knew damn well how cold that rink was when she wasn’t working up a sweat on the ice, usually dragged on by Bucky who’d had enough of running drills and challenged her to races she’d never win. 

She chucked her warmest sweater onto the bed, a pair of thermal leggings to wear under her jeans and the thickest socks she owned and then turned to Bucky who was still leaning in her doorway. He was watching her with that look he gets sometimes, eyes soft and hazy. 

“If you think you’re about to get lucky Barnes, you can think again.” Luna twirled her finger in the air, pointing out into the hall, and Bucky sagged with a dramatic groan as he turned around. “I won’t be long.”

She heard him grumble a quiet "yeah yeah" under his breath before he left, throwing her one sneaky, quick glance over his shoulder as she shut the door to her room, the lingering look setting off butterflies that she'll deny with all her might they exist.

Barnes was probably one of the very few people in her life that could make her give up a warm bed and a book in the calmness of her room in exchange for going out and having fun. Luna felt lucky for knowing him.

After shimying into her jeans, she tugged on her sweater, her warmest one was coincidentally the emerald green one Bucky had once said he loved because it brought out her eyes. Everytime she wore it he gave her a look that was enough to warm her up even if the temperatures were well below zero. She huffed out a breath shaking away the thought as she laced up her docs before grabbing her bag and her current read just in case. 

“I’m gonna open the door Bucky, you might wanna step away from it,” she laughed

“All clear!” His muffled voice murmured from the other side. 

“Everytime,” she whispered, shaking her head. “Alright, let’s go Barnes before I change my mind.” 

“Aw, you wouldn’t do that to me sweets” he smiled as he took her in, “I love that on ya Jackson.” His eyes drifted down to the book tucked under her arm. 

“Everytime,” he laughed.

They walked down the hallway side by side, Bucky hovering his palm over the small of the back like he always did.

His hand never touched her although secretly she wished he would. 

It was a gesture of friendly protection, showing the world that she was under his guard and belonged to him.

Luna would have never thought she'd be close to the star player of the hockey team, the center forward that was probably the center of a lot of college girl's sex dreams. She mentally rolled her eyes by thinking about all the girls that waited for him at every practice and game just to get a puck, a disgustingly sweaty jersey, or his phone number.

Luna took a deep breath as they walked into the rec center, preparing her lungs for the seasonal chill that filled the space when the arena floor was covered with ice. She glanced up at Bucky to see that light in his eyes sparkle. The one he always got when he entered the building. His eyes flicked down to hers and that swarm of butterflies she consistently had to swear off started up again in her chest. "What did you drag me down here for exactly?" 

The grin that spread across his features both terrified her and warmed her at the same time. "Hot chocolate?" He smirked. 

Luna narrowed her eyes at him. "I somehow doubt that." 

"Can't a guy just want to spend time with his Luna whenever he wants?" He leaned forward, tucking his chin down to meet her gaze.

"Your Luna?" She replied indignantly. "Since when?"

"Always," Bucky shrugged, "You got a problem with that?"

Luna huffed and stormed over to her usual seat by the side of the rink and dropped her bag on the floor. There was a package there, wrapped in brown paper, with her name printed on it in block capitals. It was heavy in her hands, and bulky, and the paper had already begun to tear through in one corner as something metallic and sharp poked through. She started there, ripping open the wrappings to reveal a pair of skates. They were white with emerald-green laces and had yellow crescent moons painted along the sides. Gasping in surprise she turned to face Bucky, who approached carrying two hot chocolates and wore a cocky grin.

"Buck..."

"What? Your old ones were tattered and shit. I thought I'd give you a fighting chance at beating me in a race at least once," he said.

A familiar warmth spread throughout her, and for a moment Luna let her emotions show on her face. A soft smile tugging at the corners of her lips. She'd never had someone in her life that was so observant to little things the way that he was. From freshman orientation, Bucky had been like a thorn in her side that she couldn't get rid of in the best way possible. He made her smile more times than she'd ever admit and as she examined the new pair of skates in her hand, running her finger over the crescent moons, for a short moment, she let her real feelings creep in. 

"You know I don't need an advantage to beat you in a race," Luna cleared her throat, finally looking over to meet Bucky's sparkling blue eyes. 

With a snorted laugh, Bucky shook his head, "Well you've only won once, so I think you might," he joked, "but if you don't like 'em..." he started, reaching his hand out to take the skate. 

"No!" Luna pulled them away, "You put all this effort in, the least I could do is humor you," she smirked.

Bucky grinned down at her as he handed a hot chocolate over, extra whipped cream and chocolate sprinkles just how she liked it. 

“Oh, it’s on, little moon. Drink your hot chocolate and then lace up.” 

“Aye, aye, Captain.” Luna threw him a lazy two finger salute and took a sip of her drink, instantly feeling cold whipped cream smear across the tip of her nose. 

“You got a little something just…” Bucky murmured as he plopped down in the seat beside her. He reached out, swiping the cream from her nose with his finger and flashed her a lopsided smile. “There.”

She couldn't help the shuddered breath that escaped her as her eyes caught on the sight of Bucky sliding his thumb between his lips and sucking the whipped cream off of it. 

Luna quickly averted her eyes away from his, sitting down on the bench and busying her hands with the new skates while she hoped her hair covered her rosy cheeks.

"Just... just give me a minute to change into them then we can break them in," Luna told him. The flurry of feelings started to swell in her heart making it hard to speak.

She took one more sip of her hot chocolate before setting it beside her to bend over and unlace her boots. 

“You really wanna beat me that much you’re not gonna finish your hot chocolate,” he all but screeched. 

“Hey, I never leave a hot chocolate behind, one. Two, I just wanna get a feel of ‘em before I win, you know stretch my toes in them. That also gives you a chance to prepare for your imminent defeat Barnes,” she declared. 

“Feisty, I like it Jackson.” He mused

"You know it," she winked at him, looking up into his smiling eyes.

"Hiya Buck,"  a group of sophomores chorused as they skated past. Bucky turned his head towards the voices and waved, his eyes reluctant to leave hers.

"Your fanclub's in," she teased, standing up and testing her weight on the new blades.

Bucky rolled his eyes. "How do they feel?"

"Like they were made for me. You really shouldn't have, but I'm glad you did. Thank you." Luna smiled at him again. He really did make her feel warm and fuzzy inside, but in all the time they'd been friends he'd never made her feel that he wanted more, and that she was firmly parked in the friend zone.

"So, you'll abandon that hot chocolate and follow me on the ice, Jackson?"

Luna was so focused on testing the new blades that she hadn't realized that Bucky had changed into his own and was standing in front of her with his hand stretched out toward her. 

"Abandoning hot chocolate means bad luck. Not gonna risk it," she said before emptying the cup with her eyes fixed on him. When she set it back down, she let her tongue slip out, and carefully cleaned the remaining whipped cream around her lips. 

Bucky was still watching her, completely ignoring the same group of girls as they passed by them again with loud giggles and teasing "We need some help with skating. Maybe you can teach us, Buck" shouts. A playful smirk danced around his face before he slightly shook his head in amusement. 

"You're going to be the death of me one day," he mumbled before turning around and making his way to the open door that would let them enter the ice.

"That's too much pressure." Luna scrunched her nose as she set her hot chocolate down and stood up on wobbly legs. She always hated this part, getting from the regular floor to the ice. She felt like a baby deer trying to get there. Bucky, never failing to notice anything about her, reached for her elbow after one unsteady step and smiled warmly at her. 

"I've got you." 

Luna glanced up at him as she steadied herself and stepped onto the ice. "Thanks." She whispered, feeling her cheeks turn pink. 

"Anytime pretty girl."

A chorus of Bucks greeted them as soon as their blades hit the ice. With an apologetic shrug of his shoulders Bucky skated backwards away from her and towards the gaggle of puck bunnies that waited near the center of the rink. Luna clutched the barrier as she let herself become used to the lack of friction, eyeing their short sleeves and furry ear muffs with disdain.

She let out a scoff and pushed herself off, gliding slowly but gracefully towards the group. She’d skated all her life and was more than confident on the ice but her sense of self-preservation had always been stronger than Bucky's. It was the reason he always had her beat.

Ear piercing giggles sounded from the girls as Bucky charmed them, talking about his last game and how “easy” of a win it was. Luna was sure she saw her brain when she rolled her eyes as she finally got up beside Bucky. 

“And then just as the buzzer sounded, I shot the puck into the net right between the goalies knees,” he boasted, a proud smirk on his face as he looked down at Luna. 

With a soft laugh, blond shook her head, “you only made that shot because Wilson was picking a fight and had everyone distracted” 

“A wins a win” he winked with a shrug of his shoulders. 

“I think it was a great shot Bucky, the team couldn’t have done it without you,” a brunette practically sang, placing her hand on Buck’s bicep.

“That’s what they always say,” Bucky replied, beaming proudly as he glanced over at Luna for confirmation. 

Luna’s gaze had drifted to the brunette’s hand on Bucky’s arm, staring at it like she’d somehow developed telekinetic powers and any moment now the other girl would let go.

“Right, pretty girl?” Bucky pressed. 

Luna glanced up, sensing the daggers the girls were sending her for Bucky’s sweet term of endearment. 

“Hmm? Oh yeah, all the time,” she agreed.

Bucky furrowed his brows as if he sensed that she was uncomfortable with the dressed-up girls around them. The brunette was beaming at Bucky, revealing toothbrush-advertisement-white teeth and Luna had to admit that the sophomore was beautiful. She and Bucky would look great on the cover page of the campus' magazine. 

"I'm having trouble finding my balance in these skates. Do you have any tips, Buck?" the brunette asked, blinking with her fake eyelashes in his direction.

"Actually, I was here to help Luna break in her new skates and..."

"I'll be fine, Barnes. Give her a helping hand. She needs it. Even a newborn foal is steadier on its legs than this girl," Luna interrupted him with a shake of her hand. 

Bucky turned his head towards her, raising his brows in a silent 'Are you sure?', but she only gave him a shy smile in return.

The girls wouldn't have stopped harassing them until he finally helped out the brunette. She was looking at him with heart-eyes, giggling at every word he spoke, funny or not. It was always the same with him and the fangirls and she was sure he enjoyed bathing in attention.

"Alright. Let me see you skate and I’ll try to help," Bucky spoke towards the brunette again, watching the girl stumble over the ice with a contorted face.

Luna wasn't needed in the assessment, so she pushed off from where she was currently standing and started skating around the rink to get comfortable with the new skates.

Maybe she should have stayed in her cozy bed with a book. Then she wouldn't have to watch this awkward group date that reminded her a lot of 'The Bachelor'.

Ten minutes later, Luna stepped from the ice onto the rubber matting of the floor. She'd been quite happy skating around on her own, her thoughts back on the times when she'd taken ice dancing at elementary school, but one of the guys in her chem class had started to bug her. He'd been trying to catch her attention as she skated around but she didn't want to hang out with him. She'd come to the rink with Bucky. She looked back over in his direction but he was still basking in the attention of the puck bunnies, what was even more infuriating was that it was obvious that the girls knew what they were doing.

She picked up her hot chocolate and took a sip. It wasn't scalding hot like she had hoped but it was still warm enough that she enjoyed it. She leaned over the edge of the rink, watching everyone skate by. The group of girls and Bucky had migrated closer to her as he laughed with them. They pretended to trip over gouges in the ice, using any excuse they could to hold onto him. It didn't help the little green monster on her back that wanted to drag him away. 

Lost in her thoughts, Luna didn't realize that the girl who had asked for his help in the first place was skating towards her. In a moment, the girl knocked into her, splashing the hot chocolate all over Luna and her emerald sweater. "Hey!" 

The girl shot her a sickly sweet glare and shrugged. "Sorry!" 

Bucky skated over with his brows furrowed. The gaggle of girls following behind him. "I'm just so clumsy. I think I need more lessons, Buck what do you think?" 

Luna glanced down at herself. Her shirt and jeans were soaked. She knew it wasn't an accident just by the daggers coming her way from the girl and her friends. Her eyes flit to Bucky and his fist was covering his mouth. 

"Pretty girl, you gotta be more careful." He said, amusement pure in his voice. The girls burst out laughing and soon he followed, sending a sinking feeling through Luna.

“You’re telling me to be careful?” Luna snapped, her fury rising.

“Well, they’re new skates s’gonna take some time to get used to ‘em,” Bucky said, clueless innocence plastered all over his face.

“Yeah,” the chief bunny chimed in, resting her head against Bucky’s broad shoulder, “we can’t all be as good on the ice as Bucky. Maybe you should watch him for some pointers.”

“Watch him?” Luna fumed, reaching boiling point as she took in Bucky’s banal smile. “Watch him?! Watch this!”

She sank to her knees on the ice and began to unlace her skates.

She tugged at the boots, cursing them as they caught on her heel, not yet worn into the shape of her feet. With one off, it fell to the ice, metal blade clattering before the other boot joined it and Luna huffed, climbing to up from her knees. The ice soaked through her socks, chilling and wet as she clutched the skates in her hands. 

“Luna, what are you—“ 

Bucky’s words died on his tongue as Luna launched a skate at him. 

“You can take your brand new fuckin’ skates, Barnes. And shove them up—” she threw the other skate and it bounced off his thigh before landing at his feet, “your ass.” 

And with that, she stormed off the ice.

Luna could hear the commotion behind her as she grabbed her book and boots and ran towards the door of the rec center. The gasps at her actions and concern that the girls had shown Bucky were quickly covered by him shouting her name after her. She paused, just once, and looked behind her. Bucky had picked up her skates and was making his way off the ice, the girls behind him long forgotten. 

Luna didn't stop running until she was back at the dorm. She was still in just her socks, she hadn't wanted to stop to put on her boots in case he caught up to her. She was so mad she was in tears and she didn't want to let anyone see her cry. She slammed her door shut, locked it and threw herself onto her bed.

Luna laid there for a while. The tears had stopped and were replaced with the knowing feeling that the feelings that secretly laid beneath the surface for Bucky would never come to light. 

A soft knock came across her door and her eyes slid closed. "Luna?" Bucky asked. She heard a soft thud followed by the sound of him sliding down the door. 

"Go away, Bucky." She said softly. 

"You forgot your skates...and left your shoes out." His voice sounded so small compared to his usual boisterous self and she hated the ache it created in her chest. "Please talk to me? I don't...I don't know what I did."

“That’s the problem, Barnes, you never do. I didn’t even want to come to the damn rink in the first place. All I wanted was a quiet day in bed with a good book but there you were, all puppy dog eyes and charming fucking smile…”

“You think my smile’s charming?” He asked, and the hope in his tone sent her apoplectic.

“Just go away! Slide on back to your puck bunnies.”

“But I don’t wanna  go away, pretty girl. I wanna spend the day with you. I don’t know what I did to make you feel bad but I promise I’ll make it better. Just let me…”

“I said no, Bucky,” Luna interrupted him, her voice cracking. “Leave me alone.”

“Little moon,” Bucky whined, and Luna could hear him shuffling on the floor followed by a soft thud of what she assumed was his hand against the wooden door. 

“Don’t call me that, Bucky. Don’t call me ‘little moon’ or ‘pretty girl’—“ 

“Only calling you what you are, Luna.” 

Luna sniffled, hugging the stupid bear Bucky won for her at the fair to her chest. 

“You laughed at me, Buck,” she said softly. “She intentionally knocked into me and you didn’t do anything. Just made shitty comments and laughed. You’ve never made me feel so small.”

"I'm sorry, sweetheart," his tone changed, the whine had disappeared and was replaced by something akin to sorrow. "I'd never do anything to hurt you."

"You just did," she whispered. "I need you to go." Luna felt like her heart was breaking and she did not like it.

She heard Bucky's head thunk on the door before he got up and then it went quiet.

Luna waited a few minutes until she was convinced it was safe to open the door. She found her shoes and skates propped up against it and the sight of the tiny little moons sent her heart cracking. She picked them up and tossed them aside in her room before shutting the door and changing into something comfortable and hiding away in her bed.

Hours later a soft knock sounded on her door and Luna managed to lift her head enough to hear the sad voice that drifted into her room.

“I know you’re mad at me pret- Luna, but please come to the game tonight? Please?” 

Her chest tightened at the plaintive sound of Bucky’s words and she pulled her comforter up over her head. It wasn’t fast enough to block out the dejected apology that he ended with, however, before his heavy footsteps took him away back down the hallway.

Luna flopped restlessly onto her back and threw her forearm over her eyes. There was no way she would be going to the game tonight.

She couldn’t. 

She…

With a huff, she peeled back her comforter and shifted to sit on the edge of her bed, her face drawn into a disgruntled frown.

Stepping into the rink again felt like a mistake the moment she clocked the girls from earlier in the stands, dolled up for the players and still in far less clothing than they should be for an ice rink. 

Luna heaved out a sigh, avoiding eye contact as she slipped into her usual row. Bucky always knew where to look for her, and part of her was dreading seeing him but she still cared about him, still knew he'd find her in the stands as he took his position on the ice and the last thing she wanted to do was throw him off his game. 

The rink was loud, only growing louder as the teams finally skated out and she spotted him straight away. His broad shoulders were made even broader by his uniform, smile laid back and cheeky for the crowd as he fist bumped his team mates and then his eyes were on her, and his stupid, handsome face lit up like she was the best thing he'd ever seen. 

Hi, he mouthed, his lips curving in a grateful smile before he shoved his mouth guard over his teeth and it was game on.

The action out on the ice was brutal, it was always the same when they played these opponents, and they'd been battling it out the whole game. Bucky was outstanding, finding the goal twice and setting up two other players to score as well. Once the final whistle had sounded the bunnies had swarmed down to the ice and Luna noticed that the brunette was now sporting a home jersey with BARNES printed on the back.

That bitch was now making her last nerve tick, she was going to swing for her, no word of a lie... Luna pulled herself up short, what was she thinking?

She scanned the ice for Bucky, he'd been there a minute ago, high fiving and fist bumping his team mates. Well she was damned if she was going to go looking for him, especially with them hanging around, eating up the attention they were getting from the players. She'd just sit here until he came to get her.

The rest of the team had formed a semi-circle in the middle of the rink, throwing their arms around each other and sliding about in celebration. Even as they tore off their helmets there was still no sign of Bucky’s fluffy dark hair.

Luna sat back in her seat, her arms folded huffily across her chest but a hush fell over the crowd and drew her attention. Whistles and hollers began near the players’ entrance that grew into a thunderous riot as Bucky made his appearance back on the ice in nothing but his skates with his helmet clutched protectively over his junk.

Lips formed in a tight line as she tried not to laugh and with a disbelieving shake of her head, Luna’s eyes followed Bucky across the ice as he showed off, spinning and laughing before he stopped dead centre. 

“Really, Bucky?” Luna whispered to no one in particular as Bucky adjusted his helmet over his crotch and inevitably found her again in the crowd. 

Bucky grinned, bright eyed and mischievous, and then he spun on the spot to reveal her name scrawled across his broad shoulders, thick lines of marker pen spelling out ‘Jackson’ between two love hearts.

Luna slid as far down in her seat as she could when a few eyes in the surrounding seats glanced between her flushing face and Bucky's grin on the rink. 

"I'm sorry Luna Jackson! Please forgive me!" The naked brunette hollered across the ice at her while his teammates and the fans sitting around the ice burst in laughter and a few of the girls glared her way.

"You're crazy, Barnes," she muttered under her breath and shook her head at his antics. Her eyes never leaving his form as he skated closer, the butterflies in her chest increasing as Luna saw the sparkle in his eyes. The pleading look in his gaze broke her resolve. 

She wouldn't deny him. Couldn't even if she wanted to.

That same lopsided smile spread over his features as he got closer. The normal cockiness vanished for a moment as he looked at her. “C’mon pretty girl, please forgive me.” 

Luna couldn’t help her own smile at hearing the soft whine in his voice. She knew that being mad at him was only going to last for a few hours anyway. Bucky had a way of turning into the Kool-aid man and bursting through every wall she put up around herself…and her heart. 

Her dorm room? Was still comfy and cozy with her lights and posters but it never felt right without Bucky Barnes curled up at the foot of her bed reading his comics or rambling on about practice. He was her constant. Her person. 

“You hurt me Barnes.” She countered standing up and taking the short few steps to the edge of the rink where he waited. 

“I know.” He said with soft furrowed brows. “I’m real sorry Luna.” 

She nodded and glanced around the stadium at everyone staring at them. “I forgive you.” She said looking back at him. “Anyone who is crazy enough to come out bare ass on ice deserves that.” Luna grinned.

With a triumphant whoop, Bucky threw his arms in the air and spun in a circle, completely forgetting about the helmet protecting his modesty. It skittered across the ice and a collective gasp sounded from the crowd as Bucky slid to a stop, bare-ass naked, with his arms in the air and a broad grin on his face.

It was almost comedic, the way his eyes darted from Luna down to his groin and then back again in quick succession. At least he had the good grace to blush as she rushed to close the distance between them, sliding out onto the ice in her sneakers. She tore off her top layer of clothing and collided with Bucky’s solid frame, wrapping the sleeves around his waist as his arms wrapped around her.

“You wore my jersey,” he stated affectionately.

“Yeah, well one of us had to,” she snarked, but her shy smile took the sting out of her words.

"You really forgive me?" He asked quietly, not caring that he was naked and flashing everyone.

"Yes, you doofus. Now go cover up please?" Luna gritted.

She was flustered. The feel of his skin beneath her palms was sending goosebumps all over her body and her skin was heating up in the middle of the cold rink. She didn't dare move her hands any lower than his waist. Although the jersey she’d swung around his waist hung precariously low covering his groin, the trail of dark hair from his navel and down was hard to miss when her eyes didn't know where to look.

Bucky was grinning madly at her but, before he could say anything else, the angry shout of one Coach Fury sounded across the rink.

"Barnes! You better get your ass off the damn ice right this second!"

“You should, um—“ Luna said softly, giggling as Bucky shivered and fumbled a little on his skates.

“You know, I didn’t really think about how cold this place would be with no clothes on.” 

“No shit, Buck. Go, before you face the wrath of Fury.” 

Bucky nodded, smiling at her so hard his eyes crinkled at the edges and his nose scrunched. Luna turned to leave too, her heart flipping when Bucky suddenly reached out, his fingers wrapping around her wrist.

“Meet me at our spot, pretty girl?”

Luna smiled, that familiar warmth she only got when Bucky called her that spread through her. "After you get some clothes on." She laughed as he let go of her. 

"Fine." He huffed but followed it with a smirk. 

She watched for a moment as he skated away from her before she turned and headed out of the stadium. It was a short walk to the center of campus where a tall oak tree stood. Their tree. Luna settled against the rough bark as she sat in the grass and waited for him. Droves of students and staff alike passed by, all whooping and hollering to celebrate their team's win.

It was the giggles and snickers that first alerted Luna to someone’s approach. Calls of ”Bucky” and offers of phone numbers followed in his wake as he jogged across the green towards her. She scrambled to her feet and stood awkwardly, nerves coursing through her as he drew ever closer. He didn’t slow down, instead barreling into her and sweeping her off her feet with arms wrapped tightly around her.

He nuzzled into the tumble of hair behind her ear muttering apology after apology as he spun them in a circle, completely oblivious to the brunette and her gaggle of hangers-on that loitered at the edge of the grass.

“Put me down you big oaf!” Luna laughed even though she found herself clinging to him tighter, savouring the way Bucky’s body felt simultaneously soft and firm and warm against hers, and the soft brush of his lips over her neck as he whispered his apologies against her skin. 

Eventually, he set her down on the grass, tucking a hair behind her ear as he stared down at her. 

“I’m sorry,” he murmured once more and Luna thwacked him across the arm for it. 

“I already said I forgive you, Barnes. Just don’t do it again.” 

“Cross my heart, little moon,” Bucky smiled, his voice tender as his hand lingered at her jaw, cupping her chin gently. “Luna…”

Her breath hitched as their eyes connected, the blue of his eyes almost navy in the dimly lit campus. He shifted his weight closer to her, the scent of him enveloping her.

He was still caressing her jaw, his thumb slowing down when it reached her bottom lip, tracing it softly. 

"Buck I–" 

"Can I, little moon?" He interrupted. His gaze focused on her lips as he licked his own in anticipation.

Her heart was beating wildly behind her ribcage. This is the moment their friendship had been building toward, the longing for more was all powerful. And looking at him now, Luna knew she couldn't resist the pull any longer. No matter how much she was terrified of ruining what they already had.

Not giving herself anymore time to doubt her decision, she nodded once.

"Yes."

Bucky's lazy smile returned as his eyes met hers briefly before closing the distance between them. Soft lips pressed against her own and she felt his hand slide into her hair, tangling his fingers at the root. Luna let out a soft whimper against his mouth and it only took a moment before her lips parted and his tongue slid against hers.

His answering moan sent a thrill of desire down her spine and she wound her arms around his neck. Tilting his head the other way, he deepened the angle of their kiss even more. His hand splayed out across the middle of her back and he shuffled them backwards a few steps, his lips never leaving hers, until they came to a halt against the wide trunk of the oak.

“You ok, pretty girl?” He murmured, punctuating his words with the featherlight kisses she’d secretly daydreamed about.

“I’m having a hard time believing this is real,” Luna chuckled, “but I’m more than okay.”

Bucky laughed, the sound rich and melodic as he pressed in impossibly close. With one hand braced against the trunk of the tree, he dipped his head and pressed a series of soft, ticklish kisses across Luna’s cheeks. 

“It’s very real— God, Luna, you gotta know how much you mean to me. I’ve been stupid about you since the moment we met. You’re gorgeous—“ He kissed her forehead. “Intelligent—“ Another kiss to her cheek. “Wickedly funny.” Bucky kissed her other cheek, thumb brushing over her bottom lip and tugging it down gently. “And yeah, you’re a bit of a grump but opposites attract, right?” 

“You’re an idiot,” Luna giggled, reaching up and threading her fingers through Bucky’s hair. 

“Well, yeah,” Bucky scoffed. “But I wanna be your idiot if you’ll let me?”

It was hard to believe, not in a million years would she have  thought she'd have a shot with Bucky Barnes. He was handsome, smart, and annoyingly funny and– try all she might, Luna didn't have a chance of resisting him. 

Especially not with how stupidly gorgeous he looked right now, pledging himself to her if she agreed.

Her heart had the decision made before he even asked.

"Yeah," she looked up into his pretty blues, her voice breathless from the onslaught of emotions swirling in them. 

Luna smiled softly, closing the distance between their lips again before whispering, "I guess I'll be your grump then."

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes au #bucky barnes x oc #bucky barnes oneshot #bucky barnes one shot #bucky barnes fanfic #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes imagine #college au #hockey romance #friends to lovers #marvel one shot #marvel oneshot #marvel imagine #fluff #one shot #marvelous #james bucky barnes #bucky fanfic

[sarahowritesostucky]

Happy Little Family

📖"A Clever, Tricky Little Kitty Cat: Just like her Mommy"

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x reader

Rating: Explicit

Word Count: 4407

Tags: dark!Bucky, mafia/mob au, dubcon/noncon, a/b/o, threats and coercion, rape, forced pregnancy, forced domestic "bliss", yandere, kid fic

Summary: You thought you'd left behind the man who turned out to be more dangerous than you'd ever imagined. But one day he walks back into your life and reminds you that, come hell or high water, you're all going to be one happy. little. family.

This chapter: Bucky shows up unannounced at your cottage, shattering the peaceful life you thought you'd reclaimed for yourself and your daughter. He's reclaiming what's his, and he isn't planning on accepting a "no."

Nickname Dictionary: vorishka = "little thief" mamochka = "mommy/little mother" kotenok= "kitty/kitten" omegya = (made up) Russian spelling of omega omegechka = (made up) "little omega" shlyukha = "slut" krasotka = "Pretty(n.)/pretty one"

1. A Clever, Tricky Little Kitty Cat, Just like her Mommy

"And then the knight took the princess away to his castle, and they lived happily ever after."

You're just outside the nursery when you hear his voice, and ice cold fear instantly floods your chest. You drop the laundry basket and run into the room, and there he is: seated in the chair you nurse from, reading one of the antique fairytale books that your mom gave at the shower, holding your baby. 

"James," you breathe, horrified. He's been smiling down at June, but now his face smooths out as he looks up at you. He isn't frowning or glaring, but you know him, and there's a storm behind those eyes that makes dread curl heavy in your stomach. "Hi Doll," he says quietly. "It's good to see you again."

Your heart pounds in your chest. You feel sick. One wrong move and who knows what he'll do. You take a cautious step forward, eyes searching James' body and anywhere nearby for a gun. You don't see one. You take another step. "James," you warn,

June makes a happy gurgle at seeing you, and James coos down at her, "Aw, yeah Sweetie. I'm happy to see Mommy too."

Mommy. Hearing that word come out of his mouth, in a setting like this, is a nightmare you've woken from more than once. You lick your lips and hold out your arms, pleading, "Please give her to me."

He acts like he hasn't even heard you, smiling and tapping June's body with one finger. "We were just reading a story. Little lady is gonna be a big reader one day, I bet. Gonna grow up to be real smart." His gaze slides back to you, with what you interpret as a world-of-hurt-coming-your-way look glimmering in his eyes. "A clever, tricky little kitty cat. Just like her Mommy."

A whimper escapes you, unbidden. 

June starts squirming in his lap, eager to get to you. When he doesn’t hand her over, she starts to fuss. He coos at her and bounces her in his arms to calm her, kisses the top of her head while keeping his somber, reproachful eyes on you. “You left your door unlocked,” he says. “She was alone.”

She’d been down for her nap when you went downstairs and popped across the street to visit with Hilde, your one friend in the world. It’s so common for mothers to do, in this tiny, Nordic village you’ve settled in. It’s the culture here. It’s supposed to be safe. You swallow thickly, eyes flitting around to try and think of what to do. You think of your gun, so far away. You’d talked yourself out of keeping it tucked behind your bed, so now the only weapon you own is down in the kitchen. But maybe … maybe if you can get him away from June … 

“You should be more careful, Little thief. You never know who might break in and take everything you love.”

“The only thing we had to guard against here was you,” you hiss. “And I’m not fool enough to think a locked door would keep you out.”

“You’re damned right it wouldn’t.” He tosses the storybook aside like trash and stands up with June in his arms. “But you are a fool if you thought there was anywhere in the world you could go where I wouldn’t find you.”

You flinch forward compulsively, unable to think of your own safety over your baby’s. “Please, James,” you beg. “Please. Just give her to me.” 

“Oh no, Dollface,” he purrs, voice deceptively soft. “We’ve got a lot of catching up to do, and you aren’t gonna want her in the room when it happens.” His hands tighten threateningly on June’s little body. “Whose baby is this?”

You blanch. “Don’t hurt her.” 

“Aw. You don’t want me to hurt her?” 

“No, please!” The sob that’s been working its way up in your throat finally breaks. It’s killing you not to rush forward and snatch her from his arms. “Please, I'll do anything.”

“Is that so?” He stares at you long and hard. The few seconds of silence are torturous as he holds your daughter away from you. 

James is one of the deadliest people you’ve ever met, and he’s capable of horrendous violence, but he wouldn’t hurt a baby, that much you do know. What you have to worry about most right now isn’t him physically hurting her; it’s him wanting her, whisking her away right alongside you, when he inevitably takes you from this place. There’s nothing you can do to prevent your own fate, but if there’s anything you can do to keep him from getting his hands on June, you’ll do it. Your eyes flit around the nursery frantically, its pale, dream-like decorations taunting you as you try to think of what to do. It feels surreal to have a man like James standing in this room, feels wrong.

Your heart leaps when he suddenly moves, but he’s only turning to walk over to the crib, bending and placing June in it with a surprising amount of care. Something painful lances in your chest at seeing him handle her so gently, but when he turns back around to you, all of that gentleness is gone. “Come on,” he snaps. “To the other bedroom.” 

You hesitate, not wanting to leave your daughter alone, but he stalks forward and grabs your upper arm, herding you out of the nursery and down the hallway. In your bedroom, he pushes you onto the bed. You land in a heap and scramble to prop back up on your hands, trying to swipe the hair out of your face.

“Whose baby is that?” he demands. “Tell me. I want to hear you say it.”

His Voice. God. After almost a year and a half it should be lessened. The pull you feel when you hear it has no right to tug at you the way it does. You’re not even mated, which makes it all the more insulting. It gets in through your ears and spreads throughout your body, like an invasive plant, growing and sinking its roots into you and tug, tug tugging on your will: Whose baby is that.

You fight the awful urge to tell him, as you rapidly, fearfully weigh your options. It’s hard to think when you’re so frightened, so taken aback. Most people might think it wise to admit the truth, but you know this man, this alpha, and you know he’ll never let her go if he knows that she’s his. Anything, you think. You have to do anything you can to keep her from that life, that world. 

Heart in your throat, you insist, “Noone.”

“Noone?” His visage darkens. “Artificial insemination, then? I know they’re progressive and all up here, but don’t take me for a fool, mamochka.”

“It was just some guy! Just a one night stand, I swear!”

He surges in, gets one knee up on the bed and pushes you onto your back when you try to get up, leaning over you and holding you down by your shoulders. “So you did let another man fuck you,” he growls.

You jut your chin out and hiss, “Yes.” (Lying Rule #1: deliver your bullshit with confidence).

“Who? Was he alpha?”

“Why do you care? It was one night in Oslo.” (Rule #2: add in one or two unimportant details.)

“What’s. his. name?” 

A bitter sound escapes you (Rule #3: attach honest emotion to it, if you can). “I don’t know his name. I never did. I was just racking up a roster, just wanted to get laid after getting away from you.”

He bares his teeth at you in a snarl, furious, and shoves you harder against the mattress. You cry out and try to hit him, but he catches your wrists and holds them down to the bed easily, shoving you again, one of his powerful thighs pressed up between yours. “You’re mine,” he growls, getting in your face, lying on top of you. “Noone else’s. Not ever.”

You whimper and nod, shaken and keenly aware of his body on top of yours, his strength. James is a massive hulk of an alpha, capable of overpowering you in any situation, and even through your frantic thoughts, you know you’ll never be able to get away from him in close contact like this. He’s so angry, his scent gone thick and choking. You’re too panicked to plan out what it is you’re going to say next, you just wind up instinctively trying to placate him, blurting out, “What do you want?”

He leers down at you. “I want what’s mine. What’s always been mine.” On your wrists, his fingers tighten cruelly. “You’ve had your fun now, and gotten away with it for too damn long. You’re coming home with me, Little thief.”

You gasp as the pressure on your wrists increases painfully, mind flying to that cold, Siberian fortress and the life that awaits you there. You might be able to get away from him before then, but you might not, and you can’t risk June being trapped there as well. “Okay, okay! I’ll go with you, I will. Wherever you want. Just … Please let me give her to the neighbor. Please.”

He smiles nastily down at you. “Oh, you don’t want her to come along? Another man’s pup?”

Tears press at the backs of your eyes at the thought of leaving your daughter behind, but you shake your head. “Please. Just take her over to the woman across the street. She’ll look after her. Please James, she's my daughter. I won’t fight you if you leave her there. She’s nothing to you. Just let her stay where it’s safe.” 

Something in his expression shifts, but you don’t have time to figure out what the emotion might be, before he shutters again. He leans down and purrs, “Oh, I don’t know, vorishka [little thief]. You stole some very valuable things from me. And since I don’t see any fucking Picassos hanging in this hovel you call a house, I assume they’re in the wind.”

It wasn’t as though you’d simply been able to run away. Escaping had required finances, techniques, firms of dangerous men hired to plant false leads, erase tracks, ferret you away into oblivion, and then move halfway across the globe and buy yourself a new identity. The bribes alone had eaten up most of the money. You shudder in his grip, knowing that the paintings wouldn’t save you, even if you did have them. “They’re gone.” 

“I know they’re gone, Little thief.” He shoves his thigh down against you. “So how are you gonna make it up to me?”

You whimper. “I can’t,” you plead. “James. I don’t have anything.”

“Oh, I don’t know about that. I can think of a few ways you can start repaying your debt.” He runs one hand down your side, groping your waist as he breathes softly against your ear: “For instance, do you have any idea what she’d be worth on the black market?”

It takes you a split second to figure out what he means, and your heart seizes in terror as soon as you do. You know James is involved in every type of shady, illegal dealing there is in the world, but you’d never even considered the idea of human trafficking. Now that he’s said it, you panic that you’ve made a huge mistake by lying that the baby isn’t his. “James,” you whisper, horrified. “Alpha, please.”

“Oh, it’s Alpha, now, is it?” He chuckles meanly, the sound making your stomach churn. You’re about to say something else, beg in some other, pitiful way, tell him he’s June’s father, but instead you cry out as his hand fists in your hair and yanks your head to the side. His breath hits hot against your skin and he drags his nose up the side of your neck, scenting you. “Mmm,” he hums darkly, pleased. “You spread your legs for another man, but you didn’t let anyone in here.”

You squeak when his teeth scrape over your still-unmarked glands. “No!” you gasp, just as much an answer as it is a plea for nim not to bite you. “I didn’t, I didn’—”

“Shut up,” he snaps, closing his teeth down on the spot. You whine as he pulls your hair and slowly increases the pressure of his bite, threatening to break the skin. Horrified, you feel your body responding with arousal, heat blooming deep in your core. You squeeze your eyes shut, and sure enough few seconds later James is inhaling deeply and chuckling. “Oh, kotenok [kitten]. Still the same as ever, huh?” He shifts, hand slipping down between your legs and cupping you from over the fabric of your dress. “Ripe for your Alpha’s touch, even after all this time. How sweet.” Humiliated rage bubbles up inside of you and you glare up at him. He’s looking down fondly at you, eyes heated and lip drawn into his mouth. He lets it slide back out between his teeth and murmurs, “It’s okay, you know. It’s everything to me, omegechka [little omega], the way you respond. It’s only natural.” You growl angrily, but he just hums and tugs your hair again, other hand molding to your mound and rubbing. “Shh sh sh,” he hushes, when you cry out louder. “Don’t want to scare the whelp, do you?” 

You freeze, listening to try and hear June. She’s whining from over in her room,  not understanding why she’s been left alone when she can hear her mommy’s voice just down the hall. “Please,” you whisper, locking eyes with James again. “Please. Let me go to her.”

He grinds the heel of his hand against you. “I told you, Dollface. You don’t want her here for this.”

He kisses you on the mouth, chaste and lingering; so gentle that for a split second it makes you ache for what you once had with him. James always was very good at making love to you, at lavishing you with a softness and a tenderness even in the darkest of times. But now you can only shiver underneath his weight, because you know that’s not what’s about to happen. 

“Seventeen months, moya omegya,”  he rumbles quietly, lips brushing yours with the words. “My bed suddenly cold, not knowing if you were alive or dead. Do you have any idea what that did to me?”

His tone of voice is so intimately familiar that it makes your heart clench, bringing back memories of a life you’ve fought so hard to put behind you. “Please,” you whisper. “Don’t do this.”

He tuts and shakes his head softly, as if he’s actually remorseful. “How this goes depends entirely on you. I want you to know that.” He hasn’t stopped working his hand against you, rubbing his palm against your clit and smiling at how you shudder beneath him and your body betrays you. You watch his nostrils flare as he smells the reaction he’s pulling from you against your will. “Sweet girl,” he coos. “You just can’t help it, can you?” You toss your head and screw your eyes shut, but he’s having none of it. He yanks your hair and hisses at you to open your eyes. “No,” he warns, once he’s got your attention. He moves back, getting up onto his knees and shrugging off his jacket. “You’re going to watch. The whole time.” His hands land on his belt, the buckle clinking as he opens it and undoes his pants. “I want to look right in your eyes while I take back what’s mine.” He shoves his pants down along with his underwear. His cock springs free, already hard and wet at the tip. A part of him that’s been inside you hundreds of times, probably. Something you’ve craved and debased yourself for. 

Seeing it reignites your shame, but it’s the way you feel your cunt pulse and release a fresh wave of slick, that really makes you start resisting again. “Nnh!”

“Ah ah ah, Dollface. That’s not gonna work.”

“Nugh! Lemmo go!”  

You fight, of course you do, but it’s almost worse that way, as it only points out how comically mismatched you are to him. He laughs at you and holds down your thrashing body, barely even grunting from the effort of subduing you. “Shh sh sh,” he hushes, chuckling breathily as he forces you down with one hand and strokes himself with the other. “I have to tell you, kotenok. I’ve been looking forward to this.” 

“I hate you!” You manage to get a hand free and you flail, hitting and clawing at him. He inhales sharply as your nails scratch his face. He knocks your hand away with a surprised hiss and, wide eyed, touches the spot where a tiny line of red is welling up on his cheek. The next thing you know, he’s backhanding you, sending spots into your vision and knocking you out of your senses for a few seconds. Your ears ring and you blink, stunned.

His hand appears at your throat, squeezing, pressing up against the arteries. You briefly grapple with him, grabbing his forearm and fighting, but then his thumb notches into place and digs into your glands. Your cries taper off and you go limp with a pathetic, mewling whimper. “Nnnh …”

He leers down at you, adjusting his grip, still jerking his cock as he subdues you with the Hold. “Weak,” he says. “But that’s just how I like you.”

His thumb rubs in circles, sending a rush of liquid gold through your veins. It worsens the situation between your legs, and you can’t hide that any more than you can hide the humiliated tears that prick to your eyes as he shoves your dress up and rips your underwear straight off of you. He coos when he looks down and sees how wet you are. “Oh, omegechka.” He knees your legs further apart and drags his cockhead through your folds. “And this is you hating me?”

You shake with a silent sob, despising him with your whole being, hating yourself for reacting this way. Before James, you’d never met a man who coveted your omega nature so much, hadn’t known what it was to need an alpha that way, to have your body need him. And to think: you used to like it.

He lines himself up and sinks inside of you in one, unyielding push, forcing you to open to him, carving out his space inside of you. You cry out at the force of it, body clamping down hard and the delicate skin at your entrance stinging from the stretch, but he doesn’t stop until he’s fully seated. “Fuck,” he groans, grinding in deep, his pubic bone pressing against your clit, laughing darkly when it makes you squeal. “Oh, you sensitive?” He does it again, and again, doesn’t stop until he gets a high pitched, warbling moan from you. “Theere she is.” He digs his thumb in harder against your glands and stares right in your eyes as he watches the effect it has on you, soaking up the flush in your face and the furious tears welling at the corners of your eyes. “I know, Sweetheart, I know,” he murmurs. “You really can’t help it, can you?” You whimper and he nods along in mock sympathy. “Poor little thing. I can’t imagine what it must be like, to need it that bad.” 

“James,”

He pulls out halfway and shoves back in, hard, rumbling in pleasure when it elicits another yelp from you. His other hand grabs at your waist, fingers digging into the soft give of your body. He hums dirtily. “I have to say, I’m pleasantly surprised. You look good for having just pushed out that pup. You look healthy.” You whine in protest and he fucks in hard again, baring his teeth in a mean smile. “Yeah, momma, you heard me.” He pulls out, thrusts back in. 

“Ss-stop.”

He laughs. “Don’t be like that, krasotka [Pretty(n.)]. I like it. You always were too skinny for my taste.” He runs his hand from your waist up to the top of your dress, yanking it down along with the cup of your bra, and groaning when your swollen breast spills out. You squeal in rage as he curses quietly, eyes going molten and unfocused. “Fuck, Honey, look at you.”

You start thrashing again hard, trying to hit him, but you only get a glancing blow to the side of his head before he refixes his hand on your throat and clamps down in another Hold. He gives you a firm shake. “Settle down. I told you: I like it..”

“Nnn, fuck you!” You spit on him, but he only laughs and wipes it away, leering down at you and continuing gleefully,

“Shouldn’t be skinny like some damn underwear model. Mm mn, naw. Now you’re nice and soft, just like you should be. Somethin’ for Alpha to grab onto. Bitty waist and a fat ass.” He grabs your waist again and pulls you down into the next roll of his hips, changing the angle and hitting that spot inside of you that makes stars burst in your vision.

“Ah!” 

“Mmhm. Right there baby? Yeah, thaat’s the spot. I remember.” He’s panting open-mouthed, breathless as he taunts you, “I remember everything. What you like. How you feel. The sounds you make. Fuck.”  He shoves into you hard and holds there, his licked-red lips curling up wickedly. “Your cunt’s fluttering around me, Sweetheart. Clamping down so fucking hard.” 

“Nnh!”

He laughs, but his smile slackens as his own pleasure continues to build. He angles back and looks down your body, stares at where his cock is disappearing inside of you with lewd, wet sounds. “Shit, momma. And this pussy snapped back real good, didn’t it?” 

You cry out angrily, but it’s what he wants: to see you aroused and humiliated and furious at him. He sets a punishing pace, his hips slamming against you hard on the end of each, brutal thrust; his open belt and the zip of his fly digging into your ass every time he grinds inside. “You haven't been fucking anybody,” he says smugly. “How long’s it really been, mamochka? Hm? How long since another man was in this cunt?”

You moan miserably, his cock driving hard against your walls, too rough but not painful enough to keep it from feeling good. James is big, has an alpha’s cock, and it’s never been a physical possibility for him to be inside of you and not rub against every spot that makes your body light up in pleasure. You shake your head and try to close your eyes, but he pushes his hand up harder underneath your jaw, shaking you. “Uh uh. Look at me.” 

You can’t fight off the command of his Voice, not when he’s already dominating you so completely. Your eyes open against your will, full of tears, and he rumbles in satisfaction. 

“Better.”

Every whimper and mewl you make drives him on, stoking the angry satisfaction that’s burning in his eyes—eyes that you can’t look away from as you cry out again and again, little “Ah, ah, ah's” that interrupt the cadence of your skin slapping together, all of his eager growls and satisfied grunts.

“That’s it, shlyukha,” he pants, hips snapping in hard, again and again. “You—ugh—you let Alpha know how good that feels. Don’t hold it back from me.” His breathing is getting heavier the closer he gets, his composure and even his anger losing some of their hold as he fucks you harder, sinks down on you farther, covers you with his body fully as he ruts into you in pursuit of his climax. “Shit,”  he hisses not far from your ear, face stuffed in your neck. 

You keen high in your throat at his proximity to your bonding glands—a plaintive sound that directly contradicts the panicked ‘no!’ that flashes in your brain. His hand leaves the front of your neck and scoops around behind instead, gripping you at the nape in a Scruff that feels just as toe-curlingly right as the Hold had. 

For a very split second, his breath hitches and his growling trips into a needy whimper. “O-oh …” And that’s when you feel it: his knot starting to catch on the end of each thrust.

“Ah!” You cry out sharply and grab onto him, helpless to keep your body from seeking out more, from clinging to him and clamping down hard as his knot grows and triggers you into orgasm. “Hhgnn …”

He goes feral when he feels your body locking down on him, growling and shoving in and grinding to ensure that he catches inside and ties you together. His hand abandons your neck entirely as he gives in to the instinct to rut, both arms wrapping around your waist, scooping under your back and holding you still for him to fuck furiously against. The tug of his knot inside your cunt makes you sob and come harder, losing sense of yourself as the pleasure cuts through you like a knife. 

“Fuck, fuck, ohhfuck …” The sound of his deep voice, so lost in the desperation and helplessness of his own pleasure, makes your belly flare hot with new arousal even as you’re coming down the other side of it. You gasp and pant, and eventually whimper as the bliss dissipates and you become more aware of him on top of you, grunting and groaning and fucking into your tie as he rides out the long, debilitating climax of an alpha.

You keep your eyes closed and cry, hating that it still feels good as he fucks into you, grinds down on your clit and gives your another orgasm, and another. You wait for him to finish as your brain fills with the high that comes after, that unavoidable pink cloud that you know is going to seal your fate and make you helpless to him for the next thirty minutes, at least. You squeeze your eyes shut and turn your head in the direction of the pillows. 

As the high starts to take you, you think about how, if you’d just kept your gun holstered behind by the headboard like you’d planned, you could be blowing his brains out right about now.

A.N.: Soooo ... This is the rape-iest thing I've ever ever written. I hope y'all are okay. Just wanted to drop a note to let you know that this fic WILL lighten up and not be quite so, well, rapey, in the future. Thanks for reading! 💖Sarah

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Where Do We Go from Here

A/n: Hey guys so this was an idea that popped into my mind so here is a new story hope you guys like it, I don’t have anything written for it yet so we’ll have to wait for the summary, but I hope this is enough for now.

Summary: You and Bucky had grown up together, and attended school together until high school. During high school Bucky starts to push you away because his father starts to press him into proposing to Y/n once the both of you graduate. When both of you graduate you become a respected lawyer, while Bucky takes over for his father becoming the head of a Mafia, one of the most powerful in New York, but will Bucky listen to his hated father if it comes down to protecting you.

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Prologue

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