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#bucky barnes & reader
little-golden-age · 1 year
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Double-Take | Bucky Barnes
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DOUBLE TAKE📸 Photographer!Bucky x Reader
Summary: Your photographer boyfriend Bucky watches you doing your yoga routine one morning and gets ✨inspired✨
Word Count: ~1,800
Warnings: smut 18+ (minors DNI), Insatiable Bucky, Oral (f receiving) PinV, Praise Kink, Bucky being hot? idk.  A/N: my first (and probably only) fic. I love reading domestic-ish Bucky fluff + smut. This concept popped into my head and I couldn’t find one to read, so I wrote one.
It was a crisp spring morning in Brooklyn. You had just finished making some tea to start the day when you noticed the warm light streaming in through the window. It was perfect out! You took a sip of your drink and sighed in contentment, making your way to your yoga mat spread out in the living room. You always enjoyed getting a morning stretch in. Maintaining a regular yoga practice helped to ease your mind and ground yourself to start the day. Your boyfriend, Bucky, rarely joined you in your movements but he loved your daily practice too, for slightly different reasons.
As you walked past the couch you greeted him with a soft peck. He watched intently as you lowered yourself onto the mat and began moving through cat and cow pose, golden light tracing over your curves. You were wearing that tight little short set that he loved and your hair was pulled back into a delicate braid, small wisps dusting beautifully over your temples. You looked angelic–especially from this angle.
“See something you like, Barnes?” Pausing your routine to look up at him. Your tone was flirty, soft eyes never leaving his as you maneuvered yourself into a particularly appealing pose. Hearing nothing in return but still feeling his eyes on you, you called out to him again. “Why don’t you take a picture Buck, it’ll last longer” you chimed sarcastically, but Bucky didn’t hesitate. Letting out a small chuckle, he quietly darted over to his camera collection, grabbing a small polaroid model off of the shelf. "Ask and you shall receive, darlin’.”
Bucky found photography as his creative outlet shortly before you met him. He loved describing his photographs to you, what attracted him to each subject. How one photo could capture a single moment in time but still tell a thousand stories all at once. Eventually, other galleries and media outlets caught onto his work too and it became his career. You were so proud of him, you loved his work. Sometimes you even joked that he loved his cameras more than he loved you but you both knew deep down that you were Bucky’s one true muse. A few of his portraits of you even made it into some galleries, but he kept a special collection of photos just for himself to look back on with fondness.
Bucky came bounding back into the room, camera in hand and you couldn’t help but giggle. His excitement was palpable and adorable, you figured you’d humor him for a while. Tracking him through side glances, you watched as he moved around your body slowly appreciating the shapes and curves you created with each pose. The faintest sheen of sweat causing your skin to sparkle in the morning sunlight. 
There was always a satisfying sense of calm with Bucky. You felt comfortable with him from the day you met. After your first date walking through the exhibits at the Whitney, you two became inseparable. He showed you his favorite parts of the city, you kept him updated on arts and culture. Bucky’s friends became your friends, your friends adored him and after just a few months you decided to move in together, finding the perfect light-filled loft.
Throughout getting to know each other, and especially when christening your new place, you couldn’t help but notice that Bucky was particularly insatiable when it came to you. Ever the gentleman, your pleasure was important to him and he always treated your body like a work of art; which is why you were quick to notice the not-so-subtle bulge growing in his pants as you moved through a series of hip openers on your mat. You smiled to yourself, teasing him a little as you continued to work through your routine as if nothing was happening. You didn’t miss how his breath caught slightly when you twisted into a particularly suggestive position–Compass Pose, his favorite. It was over for him whenever you did it.
Unable to keep his hands to himself any longer, Bucky set his camera down and stepped closer to you. Kneeling behind you, he ran one hand along your thigh and grazed your exposed ankle with his lips, landing a soft kiss just above your achilles. “Buck.” You warned slyly, “You have that call with the gallery in 15 minutes, don’t start something you can’t finish, Barnes.”
You lowered your leg away from him with a wink but he simply wasn’t listening. Moving you onto your back, Bucky basically had you pinned now--exactly where you wanted him if you were being honest. Tongue jutting out to wet his lips as slate blue eyes zeroed in on your supple mouth, he leaned down until your noses nearly touched.
“Don’t you worry, sweetheart. You know--I bet I could devour your sweet little pussy right here on this mat and still be ready for that call in time.”
Your heart rate spiked as he looked right at you, pupils blown wide. You felt yourself clench around nothing as a tender silence fell over the room. A cocky grin that rivaled the cheshire cat spread across Bucky’s face as he advanced on you, fingers caressing your partially exposed thigh. “Are you going to be a good girl for me, hm? Let me make you feel good?”
You nodded slowly, never breaking eye contact as he pulled your soft shorts down your legs, planting kisses in his wake. Bucky’s eyebrow raised slightly as he noted your lack of underwear. Moving swiftly, his soft tongue finds your already dripping core, placing perfectly timed strokes up your folds and over your sensitive bud as you panted in ecstasy. 
“Already so wet for me, prettiest pussy I’ve ever seen.” Deep, powerful moans left Bucky’s mouth as you pulled at his hair rode his face, taking everything you had to give him.
 “P-please Buck. More. Want t-to feel you.” you chanted breathlessly.
Bucky sat up, “Yeah baby?” He grinned slyly. “You feeling needy this morning, huh? Want my cock in you?” All you could do was nod as he moved you both up from your mat over to the couch, stopping briefly to pick something up off of the floor. Standing over you, Bucky moved his hand down your cheek, thumb finding its way past your full lips. With complete adoration in his eyes, he lifted the polaroid camera once more. Aiming the lens right at your blissed out face. 
“Look here baby, right at me. That’s it. Look at you. My pretty girl, All mine.”
Sparks erupted from your core as he snapped away praising you as he worked. After a few more flashes, you were growing impatient. “Buck, please.” you whimper, reaching up for him “I n-need you now.”
He set the camera back down, smiling before placing a soft kiss on your palm and moving your hand to feel his aching length. “I got you baby, c’mere. Got me so fucking hard for you.” You watched with bated breath as he moved to toss his shirt aside and started on his pants. You swore you could watch him undress that beautiful body of his again and again, forever and ever, on repeat. 
Your heart thumped hard in your chest and you felt yourself getting wetter as his thick cock came into view. Jerking himself slowly, he hovered down over you and ran his tip along your folds, teasing you a bit. “This what you needed, baby? Doing all of those slutty little poses, teasing me from across the room.” He spreads your thighs farther apart, getting another good look at your glistening folds. “So pretty,” he groans when he notices you smiling up at him, ready and willing to take his length.
He sinks into you slowly, filthy lips grazing over your ear as he uses all of his strength not to plow you with force. “GOD–y/n, you feel so fucking good. Made to take my cock.” He shudders, grabbing ahold of your hand tightly and giving you a moment to adjust to his size, making sure you take every inch of him. 
He moves in and out of you with precision. Savoring every movement, feeling you inch closer to your edge when suddenly, it happens–he hits that perfect spot inside of your tight wet heat and feels you clench down immediately before gasping a strangled “ohgodyes, Buck–”
Bucky’s eyes meet yours and you can’t help but notice a fire alight inside of his pupils “Yeah, you like that?” He grins proudly.
“You gonna cum for me, angel? Squeezing me so hard” he chokes out. Sweat glistening off of your bodies, vulgar sounds and high-pitched moans creating a perfect melody along the walls of your apartment. The smell of sex wafting in the morning air. “Let go baby, show me how pretty you look when you cum all over my cock.”
Your peak hits you almost immediately, crashing through every muscle in your body as you fall deeper into ecstasy. You nearly squeal as Bucky suddenly flips you back into reality, moving you on top of him, fucking up into you from below. Oh, he’s extra insatiable today. You steady yourself as he slides a hand down your back and palms your ass, tapping once lightly then again, a little harder as you cry out, trying to meet him thrust for thrust. 
“One more baby, come on. You can take it, you can take what I give you, yeah?” Bucky’s desperate now. You look down at him, wide-eyed but he’s too busy pawing your tits and pulling at your sensitive nipples. He’s not stopping until you’re both satisfied.
“Give me another. That’s a good girl. C’mon let me feel you sweetheart.”
His cool metal thumb finds your clit at the perfect moment as yet another orgasm rips through you. “B-Bu-Buck! Ohmygod!” Your hips move wildly as your pussy gushes and you lean down to nip at his shoulder, leaving little marks as Bucky begins to chase his own high. 
“I know baby, I know. FUCK–You feel like heaven. Never want to leave this pussy. Hold onto me.” Your bodies sync up and you both come crashing down together. As your breathing slows, Bucky pulls you close and starts peppering kisses down your neck and chest. “Always such a good girl for me. Angel.” he lowers you onto the couch, holding your back into his chest as your lids fall heavy and you drift off into a pleasant haze of satisfaction. 
You finally come to a minute later, feeling a pair of lips gently pressing against your temple. A lazy smile plastered to your face as you watch Bucky make his way over to the kitchen island, plucking his t-shirt off of the back of the couch and putting it on as he opens up his laptop and joins his work call.
“Sorry I’m a couple of minutes late guys, appreciate you waiting for me. I’m feeling really inspired this morning, so let’s get started!”
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irelandking · 8 months
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college au fic recs
bucky barnes x reader
❤️ = fluff 😔 = angst 🔥 = smut
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multiparts:
carnations - @viollettes
It’s a simple concept: Students can buy flowers for each other at the carnation sale. Red flowers are for love, pink flowers are for friendship, and white flowers are for expressing secret admiration. A carnation fundraiser, an iota of possibility, and a longtime secret crush on your hot best friend - what could go wrong? ❤️
untouched - @buckyalpine
other parts: Tongue Twister, Date Night, Tipsy virgin college bucky x virgin college reader (steve's sister) ❤️🔥
passing notes - @nastybuckybarnes
Part 2, Part 3, Part 4 You sit at the same table ever day at the little café down the street from campus, each day with a different book. Often poetry. And Bucky Barnes is always in the table next to you, usually doing the same thing. He either reads, writes, or sketches. One day, a dropped notebook leads to... something? Will that something turn to dust after an eye opening realization? ❤️🔥😔
sup, professor @/bbarnesjames - @aescapisms
[A Social Media AU] Bucky Barnes is the “most handsomest man” that you have ever laid your eyes on and oh, would you look at that. He’s your professor. [COMPLETE] ❤️📱
as friends - @jeanthebeans-blog
part 2 You and Bucky are friends with benefits, but the lines are starting to blur and you don’t know how much longer you can keep having sex as friends. Loosely based on “Best Friends” by the Weeknd. 🔥😔
sweet reverie - @demxters
part 2: right where you left me bucky asks you to pretend to be his girlfriend for the weekend but after what you thought was sweeter than a dream has you facing a harsher reality. ❤️😔
will we talk? - @winterromanov
Your hands remain clasped together until he’s far enough away from you, dropping your hand and grinning as he’s eventually lost in darkness. You have to hover for a second with your keycard in your hand, trying to gather your thoughts, process the events of the evening. Bucky Barnes like you. He likes you, not in spite of you, but because you’re you. ❤️🔥
one shots:
Chemistry - @viollettes
In which Bucky attempts to use chemistry to explain the chemistry between you and him. ❤️
know it all - @moonbeambucky
Your grades and patience are tested when you’re paired together for a class project with the one person you cannot stand, Bucky Barnes.   ❤️ 
study break - @sebbies
you met bucky, a popular kid on campus, a year ago and became friends with him even though you have the biggest crush on him. he interrupts your study time. ❤️🔥
anon ask - @winterromanov
AU idea- college athlete Bucky and he’s really popular and all that but very sweet and he meets this girl who’s sweet and a little quiet in one of his classes and he just keeps trying to be around her, study with her, buy her coffee and she likes him but she’s just like.... why is this cute popular boy paying attention to me lol ❤️
notebook - @softlyspector
Bucky and Y/N sit next to each other all semester. They never talk to each other, until one day they do. College AU ❤️
confess - @buckybarnesowl
You and Bucky have been inseparable since first year. Will you both finally confess your feelings, or are you doomed to a life of eternal pining? ❤️
she's not mad - @subwaysurf45
Bucky Barnes was a known people pleaser, it was second nature to him. After meeting you and getting close you both try to navigate his eternal stressed state, working together you try your best to tone down his obsessive ways. ❤️😔
nights like this - @writing-for-marvel
There are rules for friends with benefits, and you’ve broken the most important one: don’t fall in love with him. ❤️🔥
you next to me - @sinner-as-saint
Requested by @prettywhenicry4​: “Hiii can you write something for punk/emo bucky? Him and reader are in college together and run with very different circles, they get paired up for a project and they’re always fighting but then overtime idk fall in love? But it’s so shocking for everyone around them cause they’re so different from each other” ❤️🔥
wanna be yours - @sinner-as-saint
Your best friend has been acting weird, and one night while you’re hanging out like you both usually do, he finally tells you why he’s been acting kind of different lately. ❤️🔥
cuffing season - @sinner-as-saint
Late at night, you’re at the campus library finishing up a paper. And it’s freezing. Like actually freezing, to a point where you’re not even sure if the heaters are working anymore. You’re still trembling in a dark corner of the study area when the cuddliest man you’ve ever laid eyes on walks up to you. When he sees you trembling like a leaf, the blue-eyed stranger offers to sit next to you and keep you warm for a while. Then, one thing leads to another and you soon find yourself walking home with him. And one thing is for certain, you want more than just his body heat. ❤️🔥
request - @sanguineterrain
Could I request college!Bucky x reader at a carnival with the prompt: “Take my jacket, it’s cold outside.” ❤️
in plain sight - @world-of-aus
you drive home from college with bucky, your best friends brother ❤️
post-it - @crazyunsexycool
his is a college AU was inspired by a random picture I saw of people using post it notes to write messages in windows to other people in a different building.❤️
stress relief - @bucksfucks
they say an orgasm reduces stress—bucky puts that to the test pairing: librarian!buckyx f!college!reader 🔥
time to study - @navybrat817
Bucky told you he needed help with his studies, but you should have known he just wanted an excuse to kiss you ❤️
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buckyownsmylife · 1 year
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just wanna be with you - bucky barnes smut
The one where Bucky’s your roommate
Warnings: smut, name-calling
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Y/N’s P.O.V.
“Could you maybe keep it down a bit?” I winced, almost startled by Bucky’s sudden arrival. I had no idea he’d be back so soon, he usually spent way longer at the gym than just an hour. But maybe Steve had other plans and forced him to stop exercising and do something else for once.
It was a Friday night, after all. That was why Wanda and Natasha were on our tower floor, drinking and chatting while some pop music played in the background and I tried to find the courage to get ready.
“Of course, Buck. Sorry about it.” He shrugged but gave me a small smile like he meant to say that he knew I meant no harm. I gave him a smile of my own in return, and he stared at me for a few seconds before disappearing inside his bedroom, closing the door behind him.
I released a breath I didn’t know I was holding. Although our relationship was much better than when he first arrived at the tower, he still kept himself at a distance that was too uncomfortable for someone who was supposed to be my roommate.
I got it, though. I was aware of what he had been through. It couldn’t be easy, and I was determined to make him feel as welcome as possible in our little busy lives as the Avengers, but with his hiding and avoidance, my objective became harder and harder to accomplish each day.
“Still cold?” Nat asked, easily understanding what was going through my mind. I nodded automatically, before frowning in guilt at my best friend. I didn’t want to give off the wrong impression. He really wasn’t that bad, and she could be so overprotective…
“I mean, he’s just… it’s just so… he’s just so hard…” I should have expected the outcome, but it still managed to surprise me with just how childish my assassin/spy best friend could be.
“Ooooh…” A snort escaped me, despite my best wishes. She was just too much - most times. Rolling my eyes, I got up to start fixing some of the mess we’d left as my mind became filled with thoughts about Bucky. It’d become a constant ever since we met.
“To understand, Nat. Don’t get any ideas.” She just chuckled to herself, taking another shot before winking at Wanda.
“Too late.”
Bucky’s P.O.V.
I groaned for what felt like the millionth time that evening, unable to find any sleep. It was already hard with everything that went on in my head all the time, but now that I had this roommate to distract me, it wasn’t the nightmares that stopped me from relaxing.
It was her. It had been like this ever since we met when I became hypnotized by her soft eyes and how clearly she showed her emotions through them. Where everyone saw me with suspicion or pity, she met me with curiosity and kindness, and I was obsessed. 
I even asked Steve if there was some way to live close to her, and so we ended up becoming roommates. But if I thought this would help me open up to her, it only made everything more difficult.
She was just too perfect. The smell of her perfume and the warm fog from her scalding showers always took me by surprise, prompting my member to harden inside my pants. 
That was a reaction I’d become too used to being subjected to when around her. It happened when our hands met by accident, for even just a second, the softness of her skin contrasting to the feeling of my cock against my thigh. 
It happened when she looked up at me from under her eyelashes, an expression so soft and coy that it was impossible to react any differently to her innocence. 
It even happened when she addressed me with that soft voice, tone reaching me much like a caress in itself, immediately soothing the uncomfortable, instinctive answer my body wanted me to suffer through.
So there I was, in love or lust with her, and unable to express it. The fact that I had to start avoiding her so she wouldn’t notice my ever-present boner definitely didn’t help my case, and still I tried to be as great a roommate as I could to her.
Like when she was leaving for that party tonight and I was surprised by her dress for the evening, staring hard at the way it hugged her curves and showed just enough skin to leave me wanting more.
I wanted to tell her not to go. I knew what she was looking for out there, and I wanted to tell her she could have it right here. I’d give her anything, she just had to ask for it. 
But I couldn’t. So I resorted to wishing her a good night, knowing at least once she was out, I’d be able to release some of the tension she provoked inside of me.
“Bucky, are you okay? Did you call for me?” I hadn’t realized just how loud I’d been until she opened the door to find me naked in bed, grasping my cock in my hand. It pulsed in time with my heartbeat, and it somehow had to justify why I was having such a hard time finding words to explain what was happening to her.
She looked so pretty, staring at me with wide eyes and an open mouth, all dolled up and ready for a night out with her friends. All I could think of was to somehow justify it with, “I-I couldn’t sleep.”
Her sharp inhale resonated in the room, taking over the sound of my own heartbeat as I remained frozen and her eyes remained on my dick. Then, she looked over her shoulder and announced, “Go on without me, I think I’m staying in tonight.”
The sound of the door slamming behind her startled me, taking me out of my state of shock. She walked with confident steps towards my bed, climbed it and started crawling in my direction until she was standing between my spread legs, her eyes fixated on my hard cock as she licked her lips.
“That looks so good,” she commented like she was talking about a popsicle I was sucking on or anything else rather than my aching cock which throbbed in my hands as she tilted her head and looked me in the eye. “Can I taste it?”
A shiver went down my spine, my body, at last, comprehending this turn of events it never anticipated being a part of before. Since my brain was still having a hard time understanding that she was really here, that she really wanted me, I couldn’t help but confirm, “You want to have sex with me?”
The edges of her lips curled up, her hands reaching out to cover mine, restarting the movements on my cock. “Desperately,” was her response, right as I started panting from the stimulation on my member.
“I actually bought this dress hoping it would make you want to throw me I this bed and have your way with me.” What was going on? I couldn’t believe this was happening, and the fact that she didn’t stop touching me wasn’t helping one bit.
“But I thought,” I choked up as she leaned down to lick a stripe up my dick. “I thought you were going out?” It was the wrong thing to say, I knew. What kind of a person has the woman of their dreams in bed with them and feels the need to remind her she was supposed to be doing something else?
“Do you want me to leave?” She teased, thankfully not at all bothered by my dumb question. “’Cause I think I’m right where I should be.” Speechless, I watched as she pulled away from me and pulled her dress over her shoulders, leaving her completely nude.
“Touch me, Bucky,” she ordered, and I don’t think I’d ever been as happy to follow an order in my entire life. She really was here, in my bed. Telling me to do naughty, naughty things to her. “You have no idea how wet I am.” But I was eager to find out.
“And I want it rough.” That’s when my heart skipped a beat, a hungry smile painting my lips as I adjusted in bed to hover over her.
“Oh, you want to be my little bitch…” I shoved her legs open, groaning at the sight of the wetness that waited for me. “Is that it?” She nodded, and I leaned down to take a lick at her spread cunt.
It tasted like honey, and I was instantly addicted.
“And here I was, thinking you were such an innocent little thing.” She whimpered at that, spreading her legs further, as if to say ‘look at me, I’m as far removed from innocent as possible’.
“Stay still,” I ordered, slapping her cunt and groaning again at the sight of it clenching. “Let me look at you.” My beard tickled her as I slurped her juices, but she obeyed me and didn’t complain.
“Such a good girl,” I praised because she deserved it, and the sight of her melting against my sheets had my cock twitching against my stomach.
“Fuck, I need to be inside of you.” When she nodded eagerly, hands pulling me up to kiss me despite her juices still on my face, I knew I could slip my cock inside of her, and so that’s what I did.
“Such a fucking slut,” I name-called her then. I couldn’t believe that I was inside of her, that I had her on my bed, spread open just for me. “Such a stupid, wanton slut.”
Her moans let me know that she enjoyed everything that I was doing to her, but I wanted more. Gentle wasn’t going to cut it for what I needed from her.
Turning her around, I had her on her hands and knees, holding onto the frame of the bed as I pummeled into her.
“Is that what you wanted?” I yelled over the sound of our bodies together. “To be fucked like the slut that you are?”
“Yes!” She yelled back right as the bed broke underneath us, sending us into a fit of giggles even though I didn’t stop moving.
“Well, I’m gonna cum inside of you, slut,” I warned, feeling her channel contract around me, announcing her orgasm. “I’m gonna leave you dripping with me, like the whore that you are.”
She screamed as I thrusted inside of her a few more times, and then I let myself fall on top of her - being careful not to crush her as we cuddled naked on the broken bed.
The peaceful atmosphere of the night was interrupted by my phone ringing. “What do you mean workout?” I all but yelled at Steve, who was on the other side of the line. “I’ve been exercising all night. Fuck off.”
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subwaysurf45 · 2 years
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The Time of the Prey (2)
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Summary: The younger sister of the most talked about princess in the kingdoms really can’t do much except smile and nod. When Natasha, your sister, finally goes to moves all of you to Shieldshire to marry her beloved Prince Steve you are left with your art, all alone. But one Knight took it upon himself to keep you company, and that company was all you needed to get through wedding season. Will that company last or will it be ripped away from the both of you? A war is starting and it seems targets are being made.    
Pairing: Knight!Bucky x Princess!Reader
Words: 3.6k
Warnings: stalking, protective Bucky, mentions of poison, allusions to SA and kidnapping, fluffy yet angsty
Series Masterlist      II      Series Playlist
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It had been a few days since your arrival and you had yet to see the outside of the castle, there had been so many wedding preparations with Natasha she asked you to come to all of them. As you sat with her to pick out flowers for her bouquet or sit on a very comfortable poof as she tried on her wedding dress. 
Your mother was there as well when Natasha was trying on her dress, their top seamstress tightening her corset. You had worn one before but not enough to know how to breathe, your mother wore one every day. Your mother was brought to tears when she saw the tiara placed on Natasha’s head, you had never seen her cry before but your mother had the biggest smile on her face. 
“Leave us,” she said and the seamstress finished the last measurement and left the room, “Y/N, that means you too.” 
You had never been included in the wave of the hand dismissal before. 
Royalty had a way of bossing around people below them, you’ve never heard your mother use please or thank you to any handmaid, servant, or seamstress in your life. Normally, if your mother asked you to leave- which is more than most people think -she’d say your name and add a please for good measure. 
You almost let your shocked expression show when you got up to leave, placing a hand on your stomach and felt a stiff board that was there. You were wearing another gift gown you received when you showed up, Shieldshire’s dresses had a lot more boning than South Lands’ dresses. 
“I will be going to the market today, mother,” you said at the doorway, “I hope you and Natasha have a nice day,” you knew your mother could see through your smile, she knew you could easily fake courtesy but when you made it easy to tell you were upset was worse than faking it. 
“Sister?” Natasha quickly called, “will you wear a corset with me a few days before my wedding, maybe a week before to get used to it?” she was wearing one now, feeling the pain as she breathed. Natasha always had a hard time picking up on the fake curtsies, always thinking people were being extremely proper to her no matter what.  
“You’ll never go through it alone, sister,” you smiled, “may I suggest wearing Shieldshire’s gowns, they’re tighter than ours.” Natasha smiled and nodded, her chest almost spilling out of the front of her dress. It was her wedding soon, you would be evil to be mean to her in this moment. 
“Thank you,” she whispered before you closed the door. 
“Princess Y/N,” a guard had approached, “do you need an escort, where are you heading?” he smiled. 
“I’m going to the market, I would like to find some fabrics and dresses,” you smiled and walked past him, knowing you didn’t need an escort when going to the market near castle walls. 
“Then you will need an escort,” the knight walked beside you and turned in front of you, “I will accompany you.” 
“I don’t need one,” you laughed, “I’m very capable on my own, thank you.” 
“I do not doubt that, Princess,” he laughed, “but it is castle rules, you are leaving so you’ll need an escort.” 
“But I was told I do not need one, that if I was just going to the market near the castle I would always be in a knight's eyesight.” your voice went up as you talked, seeing the confusion on the knight’s face. 
“May I ask who told you that, Princess?” his voice shook. 
“I-I don’t know, he came into my room and told me my art would be coming and told me what I told you…was he lying?” you stepped forward with a furrowed brow, “what is the matter?” 
“You go back to your chambers,” he said quickly, “someone will be there soon.” 
“What is going on?” you asked as he walked you back, “you must tell me!” you shouted as he pushed you into your room and closed the door, the sound of it locking caused you to stomp your foot, something you could get slapped for. 
You sat on the edge of your bed with your arms crossed, a pout on your face. You just wanted new dresses and to survey the land for painting spots, the last thing you wanted was to be locked in your room, not understanding anything. Your mind wandered and you wondered if you’d get in trouble for this, your mother seemed to have enough of you already, and you didn’t want to see how mad she’d get if she found you had caused a scene. Natasha had enough stress on her already. Though she was older than you, both of you knew she relied on you for comfort. Her wedding means so much to her that you wanted it to go as smoothly as possible. 
There was a knock at the door, “Princess Y/N?” the voice was muffled, “it is Ser James, may I open the door?” 
“It is locked,” you said as you stood. 
When you reached the door it was already open, James stood in the doorway, “and I have a key.” 
“Lucky you,” you rolled your eyes and turned around going back to your bed, “you may come in.” 
James entered but left the door slightly open, “I’m here to escort you to the market, I heard you would like to shop.” 
You looked over at him, “why?” he seemed very confused like the last knight, “I was told you don’t need an escort if you’re near castle walls, am I missing something?” 
He let out a deep sigh, “I’m afraid you are,” his hands joined together, “the man that was in your room was not a man of Shieldshire or South Lands,” he slowly looked up to you, “he was a spy, from Hydra’s Hill, he was caught yesterday when he was sending a pigeon back to his home,” Natasha and Steve communicated through messenger pigeons, it was common and the main form of communication amongst royals. 
You could feel your blood running cold, “he was able to enter my room…h-he must have had a key…how could he have-”
James quickly sat next to you on your bed, “do not worry, Princess,” he calmed, “he had been taken care of. But you, Princess Natasha, and Lady Melina are being watched closely, we do not know who is a spy.” he smiled when you began to calm down, “I will be your personal escort wherever you’d like, I’m going to keep you safe because that is my job.” only now did you notice a slightly heavier tunic and chain mail covering his chest, he was also wearing padded pants. 
“Ser James,” you stood up and brushed down the front of your dress, “you should be watching Natasha rather than me, she is a more prized possession than me,” you scoffed and walked over to your vanity. 
“Princess Y/N,” James spoke slowly, “it is not the oldest and the one that is to be married who is more likely to be taken, it is also not a mother who had already been wed,” you felt him stand and step closer, “it is the youngest, that would be you.” 
You slowly turned around and saw the worry in his eyes, “but wouldn’t they want the prized jewel?” 
He shrugged, “sometimes it’s easier to steal the royal staff,” one hand grasped yours, “because it is not guarded as strongly as the jewel.” he slowly dropped your hand after you nodded, “let’s not ruin the day entirely, if you want dresses we’ll do get dresses, Princess.” 
You nodded and began to walk, he followed behind you, “can you walk by my side, rather than behind me, Ser James?” you asked over your shoulder. 
“Of course, Princess.” he walked beside you. 
He walked beside you as you left the main doors, out into the sun. you stopped abruptly and so did James, your eyes slowly closed as you took in the smell of afternoon air. When you opened your eyes you saw people walking around, living their normal lives. James touched your elbow and guided you to keep moving, you walked beside him. 
“So,” you started but never finished your sentence. 
“So,” he with a smirk as he looked over at you, “what is it you want to ask?” 
“When these younger princesses get stolen,” his smile fell, “do they normally get saved?” Your hands played with one another, silently becoming more anxious about the situation that has unfolded in front of you. “or do they...?” 
“Please do not worry yourself with that, we’ll keep you safe here,” James shook his head, stopping in front of a vendor who sold fabrics. 
“I’m just curious,” you said innocently, picking up some of the fabric and feeling it between your fingers. 
“P-Princess Y/N,” the vendor seemed to be in shock, “what a lovely surprise,” he had a permanent smile on his face, “please, feel free to look at whatever you like, if you have your sizes we can make the dress and send it to you inside the castle.” 
“That would be lovely,” you nodded, the vendor seemed pleased. 
He stood back and allowed you to feel and look at all the fabrics. They were rich and soft, as you felt a sheet of purple silk between your fingers your eyes seemed to close, it was as if it wasn’t there; that’s how smooth it was.  The vending table was made of a slab of wood with a tent above it, there were alternating white and red flags hanging off of the edges, there was a white tablecloth underneath the fabrics to make them pop, a black fabric under the white silks and furs to make sure everyone saw them. 
There were fruit stands and jewelry stands with different colour flags hanging off the side of their tents, it seemed these stands stayed put but the vendors changed. People were walking around with baskets on their arms. There were families walking as well, kids running between a mother's and father’s legs as they played with a new toy. 
You looked back at the fabric and picked up the purple sheet, “this would make a great wedding gift for my sister, I’ll have someone send her sizes,” you smiled up at the vendor. 
“Anything for you, my Princess?” he asked, “see, this colour would look great against your skin, let me tell you,” he held up a dusty orange fabric, you touched it and it felt heavier than most he had laid out, “see,” his arms reached out to place the fabric against your chest. 
“Watch it,” James reached in and grabbed his wrist.
“Ser James,” you chastised, removing his hand, “I’m sorry, mister,” you looked back at the vendor who was shaking, James was much larger than the man. “Continue.” It was known not to get on a Knight’s bad side, they were heavily trained and could kill in a silent but torturous way.
“I-I…” the man stumbled, “the colour would really compliment your skin, as seen here…” he reached out slowly and looked at James as he did, gently placing it upon your exposed chest and collar bone so you could see in the small mirror behind him. 
“That does look wonderful,” you gasped, your hands feeling the fabric though it rested against your skin already, “it’s heavy, what is it?” 
“A binding of silk and wool,” he smiled, “I made so many prototypes to get a ratio right, I’m very proud if you can’t tell.” it seemed he had forgotten about James grabbing his hand and was back to just having a conversation with you. 
“I can’t sew to save my life,” you giggled, “I’ll have someone send mine and my sister's measurements to you right away-how much for all of this?” 
“My Princess,” he shook his head with a blush, “not a penny, our town is so excited the Prince is getting married to Princess Natasha, this dress is a gift to you.” he couldn’t contain his smile, taking one hand and squeezing it between both of his, “thank you,” he said passionately. 
“That’s enough,” James grumbled and detangled the hands, “let's move on.” 
You didn’t pick up anything else, you didn't have a basket to hold anything in. James walked with you around the market and stopped whenever you did, looking around and surveying his surroundings. You tried to engage in conversation with him but his mind was elsewhere, he didn’t care that you liked the tree hanging down or the pretty flowers on display. You ended up getting a bouquet as a gift from the vendor, you held them in front of you chest as you walked, occasionally smelling them. 
“They are wonderful,” you looked up at Ser James who was looking everywhere but you, “your kingdom has such wonderful greenery, don’t you think?” you gasped as you looked around, which ever way you looked you were greeted with some form of plant. 
“Yes,” was all he said. Nothing enthusiastic, it looked like talking about flowers was pitiful to him; you swore you saw him roll his eyes. 
When you were making your way back a man approached you and James stood in front, one hand out to make sure he could feel you behind his back. 
“I would like to offer some wine,” he said as he held a small glass, “we would love to supply the wedding if the Princess will have us.” 
“That is not up to me,” you said as you stepped around James, “but if it is good I'll be sure to tell my mother.” you reached out to grab a cup but James got in your way, taking to cup and offering it to the man selling it to you. 
“You first,” James snarled. 
“I’m afraid do not understand, this is a gift for Princess-”
“I know what you intend,” James pushed the cup towards him again, “but you drink first.” 
“Do you think I want to poison the Princess?” he gasped, “I would never,” he swiftly took the cup and took a sip, even flashing his tongue after swallowing, “how poorly do you think of the common folk, Knight?” 
“Alright,” you stepped in, “no need to fight, some of us are more paranoid than others I’m afraid,” you laughed it off, “I’d love some.” you took a sip and felt the liquid fill your mouth, it was very fruity and seemed to dance on your tongue, “it’s the bubbly kind!” you smiled, “I had it once when I was a child, with my sister, it was so splendid,” you cheered, “my mother never let us have it, it was a treat.” you took another sip and looked to James, “would you like some, Ser?” 
“No,” he said flatly, “I can’t.” 
“Right,” you shook your head, Knights can’t drink. You placed the cup in the man’s hands, “thank you so much, I’ll be sure to tell my sister.” 
“Thank you, Princess,” it looked like his day was complete. 
James had taken you back to the castle, you were now secluded from the population and on royal grounds. There were Duchess and Dukes walking past you, smiling and waving. James seemed to relax as you walked past other guards, he was walking beside you again and engaging in minimal conversation. 
“No, they don’t,” he said out of nowhere, you had not prompted them at all. 
“Pardon?” you stopped and turned to face him.  
“Your question from before,” he said slowly, “you asked if the youngest Princess gets saved,” he paused, “they don’t.”
“Oh…” you looked to the ground and the loose gravel under your feet. There was this weird feeling swirling around in your stomach, as much as you hated how stern and straight to the point he was, you couldn’t get over the little curls that framed his face. He was talking about you getting kidnapped and all you could think about was those freckles scattered on his cheeks, you felt like you sister. “What-what happens?”  
“If they’re taken for ransom, the price to pay is typically too high and the castle gives up the life for the greater good. If they are taken for a some type of warning then…well, there is a war,” he sighed, “as of right now with things brewing between all castles it seems someone would be taken for a warning, something dangle in front of another kingdom like a ragdoll.” 
“Ragdoll?” your voice gave out as you asked. 
“I do not mean to scare you,” he looked both ways before talking, “but you must understand what men will do to a Princess if she is taken.” 
“I understand,” you nodded, “I’ve never been called that before.” 
James’ face fell, “I do not call you a ragdoll, simply drawing from previous wars and explaining it that way, I do not think you will be captured, we’ve realized there is a snake early on and we’re are doing everything we can to protect you and your family.” 
“Thank you,” you whispered. 
“Let’s change the subject,” he smiled, “it too good a day to be talking about ragdolls,” James offered his arm to you, “I hear you like to paint?” 
“I do,” you smiled. 
“I have just the thing.” 
********
The gentle spring day set the scene for the small pond presented in front of you. 
The water was close to clear and as you stepped forward you could see a rippled reflection of yourself, there were lily pads and flowers floating on the surface of the pond, a few fish creating circulation. There was a shimmer running along the gently flowing water, it would sometimes reflect straight into your eyes but you wouldn’t mind, just slightly adjusting the angle you were looking at yourself from. 
A calm breeze moved the trees above, shaking out a few leaves which were caught by the thick and healthy grass and water. You stood with your eyes closed and breathed in the rich air, feeling how clean it was and the way it opened your lungs just a little wider. 
It felt as though you were already staring at a painting, the spring sun lit up the grass and trees perfectly. There was no flaw in this little patch of space and you felt a certain ownership of it. This was not your land or your kingdom but you knew you could paint this very well; that painting would belong to you. 
The pond and trees were in a valley, there was a hill which is where James stood, giving you time to look by yourself. 
“It’s beautiful!” you called up to him, making your way up the hill. Your shoes had come off and you picked up your dress which caused you to show your calf, “it’s only my leg, Ser James,” you laughed as you saw him look everywhere but you. 
“I’m sorry,” he whispered as you made your way up to him, slightly out of breath. When you stood beside him you let your dress cover your ankles again, he slowly looked at you to make sure nothing was on display. “Do you like it, Princess?” 
“I love it,” you looked back to the pond again, “I’ll have to go and get my supplies and begin painting right away, I haven’t been this inspired since my last project which was so long ago.” 
He could have cut you off in the middle of your sentence but he chose not to, “you won’t need to grab your supplies, your handmaid is on her way.” you found it charming that he let you talk, no one really did that before. 
“Thank you, Ser James.” you bowed. 
“If we are to be friends I hope you can call me by my name,” he leaned in with a smirk, “call me James, just James, and maybe one day you’ll call me Bucky.” 
“Who’s Bucky?” you laughed, covering your mouth as you giggled. 
“Still me,” he laughed as well, “just a different name for the same person.” 
Your fingers toyed together in front of you, something no lady should ever do. “I have a small request as well…”
“I am at your service, Princess.” James smiled and slightly bowed his head, thinking you were going to send him off or you were going to request the most abstract thing in the world. 
“I am not a Princess,” you spoke slowly and saw the way his brow creased, “I’m just a Lady, I’m Lady Y/N and I would prefer you’d call me that instead of Princess.” 
“Pardon my confusion,” he shook his head, “but how are you not a Princess?” 
“Because I am not set to marry,” your eyes flickered to his and expected him to laugh or begin to question who you really were. Women who were high-born are promised to marry someone before they are even born, Natasha was promised to marry Steve before she entered womanhood. 
“Pardon my confusion again,” he rubbed his forehead as his head continued to shake slightly, “but how on Earth are you not set to marry?” 
“Because I-...” your eyes moved over James’ shoulder to see Bellona, your handmaid walking up with your art supplies wrapped up in her arms, “I should help her,” you stepped past him but he caught your arm, his hands grasping around your forearm which was covered by silk, you could hear Bellone stop and gasp at the sight of a Knight gently holding your elbow. 
“We will finish this conversation, yes?” he was not mad, more concerned. His blue eyes flickered between yours to try and search for an answer, when he found nothing he slowly let your arm go, “pardon me for such aggression,” he whispered and wiped down the front of his tunic and chainmail though it was not creased. 
“You’re forgiven…” you paused, “James.” 
When you walked up to Bellona she was worried, having just seen a Knight grab your elbow, “do you need me to find-”
“I’m fine,” you smiled, “he’s a friend, don't worry,” you gathered the supplies and thanked her before turning back and setting up your easel so you could begin to paint. 
“It had been a great afternoon…” James smiled when you looked at him with a nod, “if you need anything, let me know, alright?” 
“Thank you,” you whispered. 
“It is my duty, Lady Y/N.” 
EPISODE 3
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httpwintersoldier · 9 months
Text
『 death of peace of mind | ch6 』
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masterlist | previous ↢ six ↣ next
𝖑𝖔𝖛𝖊'𝖘 𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝖉𝖊𝖆𝖙𝖍 𝖔𝖋 𝖕𝖊𝖆𝖈𝖊 𝖔𝖋 𝖒𝖎𝖓𝖉 - a slow burn between a hate-filled person and a sorrow-filled soldier
The conversations with Bucky at the bar became somewhat odd. You no longer felt the need or the will to insult him. Not because you felt like you owed him something (when maybe you did), but because the rage and annoyance you used to feel in his presence were no longer there. Insetead, you felt comfort more often than not.
When he came in the door you felt safe, relieved even. The bickering continued, obviously, after all that was the only way you two knew how to communicate, however they were just playful remarks, instead of snarky and rude ones.
"Sorry! We're closed!" You said, in the nicest voice possible, afraid you'd piss off whoever was coming through the door at 3am.
"But there's still-"
Before the man could finish the sentece, Bucky turned around to look at the man.
"Does the word closed confuse you?"
The question was met with no reply, simply incentivating the man to leave and close the door as he did so.
"Thanks, Buck."
Bucky smiled at the nickname.
"Buck?" He asked, standing up and handing you his empty cup so you could finish closing up.
"Yeah! You don't like it?" You asked, cocking your head to the side as you passed his cup under water and wiped it clean.
"I do, it was just... Steve used to call me that. Reminded me of him."
"Oh..."
It was all you could say. You felt bad for bringing up memories of his dead friend. Bucky could read you like a book at this point and laughed, clearly being able to tell you felt sorry for mentioning it.
"It's okay, Y/N. I miss him, but I'm happy one of us got their happy ending."
You looked at Bucky as he said that, and you could very well see the sadness, sorrow and longing underneath the sad smile he used to try to mask those emotions.
"You'll get yours too, Bucky."
He just walked towards the door, opened it and kept it open with his body as he shoved his hands in his pockets, waiting for you to turn off the lights and exit the establishment.
"Maybe, who knows."
The walk to your house was silent. You were getting used to Bucky's silence, and you started understanding why he enjoyed it so much. There was something so comfortable, so... intimate, with being able to sit in silence with someone. It was a lot easier to strike up a conversation and keep it going, but you truly had to be at peace with someone to sit with them (or walk with them) in silence.
After that day, the Soldier simply wouldn't let you walk home alone. He told you it was because his house was on the way anyways, but you knew (and he knew you knew) that Bucky just wanted to make sure you were safe. You'd sometimes tease him about it, and he would threaten to leave every time, but he stayed every time.
If the situation in the town got a little tricky, he'd even keep watch outside of your building. Bucky wanted to make sure you never had to feel the fear, the uncertainty, the entrapment... Because he knew what that desperation felt like. He knew it all too well.
"Right so," you said as you came to a stop, at the door of your building "I assume I will see you tomorrow, drinking up all of my stock of scotch?"
"Actually, no," he said, with a serious face, and your smile faded "I might be drinking up your stock of bourbon."
You laughed with him at the shitty joke and punched his arm jokingly. Except it ended up being the wrong arm, and punching vibranium hurt. Like a bitch.
"Ow, motherfucker!" You complained, your eyebrows furrowed in pain as you caressed your knuckles.
Bucky laughed, as hard as you had ever seen him, hand over his heart and all.
"How am I the guilty one? I'm the poor soul who got assaulted!" Bucky retorted.
"Well, it was your arm that caused me harm."
The soldier playfully rolled his eyes at your dramatic antics.
"Fine, I'll take the blame." Bucky said, as he took a hold of your 'injured' hand and kissed your knuckles "Apologies, Miss Y/N."
You could control the smile that desperately wanted to rip across your face, you couldn't, however, help how hot your whole body felt.
"Yes, that will suffice, thank you soldier." You replied, joining in on his joke.
After a shared shy laugh, you bid your goodbyes, not knowing you'd meet a lot sooner than expected.
You stripped down and grabbed an old shirt you'd wear to sleep in warm nights, and as soon as your body hit the mattress your eyes closed and you drifted off to sleep.
You had had nightmares before, but none as vivid as the ones you had that day. It was terrifying. Images of armed men threatening you, their hands all over your body, the cold barrel of a gun pressing against your temple, and Bucky nowhere to be seen. It felt real, you could feel them touch you, you could feel the air running out as one of them choked you, and you could feel the coldness of the concrete floor of the room you were kept in.
Suddenly you woke up screaming. You were on the floor, sweaty and disheveled, and your throat hurting as if you had been screaming incessantly for the past 10 minutes.
Your body was shaking and you were scared. No, you were terrified. The images were so vivid, the experience was so real. You scrambled to your feet and desperately gripped the paper with Bucky's number scribbled on that you had left on your drawer.
Although your hands and fingers were shaking uncontrollably you managed to type his number. You shakily and nervously put the phone up to your ear.
"Hello?" His voice was groggy, indicating that you had woken him up. You didn't even know what time it was, you simply didn't think twice before dialing.
"B-Bucky?"
Bucky didn't miss how shaky your voice was, almost as if you were crying, and how breathless you sounded.
"Y/N? Y/N what happened? Are you okay!?"
"Please come over... Please..."
You could hear hurried shuffling from the other side.
"I'm on my way."
It didn't take 10 minutes before you heard a knock on the door. You had remained on the floor, crying and breathing uncontrollably, hoping to calm yourself down, but to no avail.
As soon as the knocks sounded inside of your apartment you got on your feet and wobbled to the door. You immediately fell on his arms, gripping to the familiar leather jacket.
The Soldier held onto you and brought you to the couch right in front you as he closed the door with his foot.
"Y/N! Y/N what happened!? Are you hurt!?" Bucky held your face in his hands and inspected your face and body with a worried look.
"I- I had a nightmare. And it was so real it felt- it felt as if they came back and they were killing me. And I... could feel it. In real life."
Bucky wiped your tears and listened to you carefully. Your words sent a shiver down his spine, he knew all to well what you meant, what you felt. And he was scared that it would became part of your routine, like it was now part of his.
"It's okay. I have them too." Bucky confessed, as he held you close to his chest and brushed your hair with his hand.
Your hands were still desperately clinging to him, as if you believed he'd disappeared if you didn't hold him.
You looked up at Bucky, to find his big, beautiful blue eyes staring right back at you.
"How do you make them go away?"
The question broke Bucky's heart. He didn't have the answer, and that was about the only thing Bucky couldn't protect you against: your own mind. He would know.
"I... I don't know doll."
There was a tense silence, as the words processed in your mind.
"So you just keep having them?"
The sad smile on his lips served as confirmation.
"I'm sorry..."
The soldier caressed your face and smiled, genuinely this time.
"It's okay doll. I'm here for you. Whenever you need, I'll be here to help you, because I know exactly what you're going through, I know what it does to you."
Your faces were close, dangerously close.
"Why?"
Bucky cocked his head ever so slightly, as if asking what you meant by the question.
"Why are you always here for me... We never got along. But you've helped me so much..."
The Soldier caressed your face with his thumb, looking deeply into your eyes.
"It just feels right, I guess."
Your faces got closer and closer, almost as if there was some sort of magnetism between your bodies, and before you knew it, his lips were on yours.
As soon as your lips connected, it felt like electricity was flowing through your body. Your heart was beating dangerously fast again, but this time, due to ecstasy.
Your bodies moved in sync, almost as if you had prepared this beforehand, as Bucky sat straight and you climbed onto his lap. Your arms wrapped around his neck as the soldier's hands travelled up your naked thighs and ass, so they could cheekily rest on the small of your back.
Bucky's tongue entered your mouth, and that was probably the first time you welcomed his dominance so openly, and he didn't miss it, purposefully smiling into the kiss.
When you pulled away, you were both breathless.
"Are you more calm?" Bucky asked, inspecting your face, a little afraid of your reaction (even though you had kissed him back) as he brushed a stray hair away from your face.
"I... am." You confessed, playing with the hairs on his nape.
Bucky kissed your cheek, and then your lips once more.
"Good."
There was silence, and Bucky could tell you wanted to say something, but you were just trying to figure out how, so he gave you time.
"Do you think you could... stay?"
"Yeah, I can. I can stay, I'll stay as long as you want me to."
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justkending · 2 years
Text
Everest. Chapter 10.
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Series Summary: She was done and retired. After Thanos and after the battle of a lifetime, she had called it quits and had distanced herself from the Avenger lifestyle. But word finds her that someone from her past is in danger. What the journey entails was never one she wanted to face nor one she saw becoming her reality again. The rollercoaster that comes with fighting evil odds arrives on her doorstep not leaving much room for a no…
Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader
Word Count: 5300+
A/N: By GOLLY it’s been a while. God bless summer cause I’m pretty sure I touched my personal computer maybe 5 times this last 5 months... But we are back. I’ll keep it short and simple and say, I have ideas for the next chapter and hope to get it out this weekend at some point if not sooner. I love you all and I’m so grateful for you patience:)
Chapter 10: 
After dinner, Y/N went back to her room with Wanda, and Ryker stayed in toe behind them.
Her change in disposition was drastic from before Wanda had come. Whether she had used magic or good old-fashioned tough love, neither of the super-soldiers found out, but either way, Y/N was starting an upward hike in the grieving process compared to the week prior.
It wasn't going to be a perfect or strictly linear bounce back from everything as there were still pieces of grieving that needed to take place, but because of the consoling from someone who could relate to her heartbreak, they were headed in the right direction.
"A funeral?" Tony questioned. Not out of disbelief but more so in a tone that showed he hadn't even thought of that. However, his thoughts had been somewhere else lately.
"I think it would be the best way to get that final piece of acceptance in saying goodbye," Wanda nodded, arms crossed as she leaned on the wall.
"No, no. I think it's a great idea," Tony waved off, putting one of his gadgets down before taking a swig of some green juice and then turning back to the redhead. "The only thing is, we don't have a body."
"It's not out of the ordinary to not have a body at a funeral."
"You don't think it wouldn't make it a more sensitive event having no body... Knowing exactly why there isn't a casket to bury..." Tony replied.
"It's a funeral, Tony. Sensitivity is part of the event," Nat spoke up from the wall she was propped against.
"It's about having a ceremonious way of saying goodbye. A place where she can honor Marley and hopefully find some peace in the matter," Wanda sighed. "I think that's what she needs now more than anything."
The other two in the room nodded in agreement and then shared a look.
"Do we let her in on it?" Nat asked.
"I'll plan as much of it as possible for her so that all she really needs to do is show up," Wanda nodded to her friend and crossed her arms. "Can you do a favor for me while I reach out to some people to get some details sorted?" Wanda asked.
"Just let me know, and consider it done."
She sent her a smile in thanks. "I'll text you my ideas. I need to run to the store real fast and then head to my next errand."
"What time are you planning on all this to take place?" Tony questioned, tossing a stress ball back and forth between his hands.
"Tomorrow afternoon if things work out how I hope," Wanda shifted back and forth, already mapping things out in her head.
"What do you need from me?" Tony asked, genuinely wanting to help.
"I'll send out a list to everyone if I think of something specific," she answered, moving to the exit.
"Great. I'll be waiting for my job," Tony shouted as they two left.
____________________
Like the pro she is, Wanda had everything scheduled and planned out by that evening. She and Vis had gotten most of the plan together after learning what had happened, and after gathering further details, she was already in contact with the people she needed to be, in order to follow through with their plan.
She sent Vis and Nat to the florist, knowing that the spy would know exactly what types of flowers and arrangements would be best, along with a list she believed fit Marley. She had Sam, Steve, and Clint on set up at the place where they planned to host the funeral, keeping it simple for a modest gathering. Tony was working on something of his own that he guaranteed to make Y/N feel better. With it, he apparently needed Bruce's help. And Wanda herself went on an out-of-city errand to grab a few things not around the compound.
Everyone at the compound had a job, and everyone else who was close knew when to come.
Oh, and Bucky... Bucky's job was to keep Y/N company. The job he had been waiting on.
Wanda had seen it best for the two to spend some time together. She could see the anxiety and worry he was riddled with upon arriving and realized he had been just as tense as her other friends. And given how secluded Y/N had been, she knew Bucky hadn't really seen for himself how she had been healing and likely needed the reassurance himself after everything.
Besides, Y/N wasn't the only one who endured that heartbreaking day. Bucky had been there and mourned a part of the situation as well, even if he knew Marley for mere minutes before her sacrifice.
On the crisp fall morning, the two had opted to step outside for fresh air after being locked inside for so long. They were out throwing the ball for Ryker and decided to take a walk around the compound.
Today was one of the few moments where Y/N had actually gone out for sunlight since coming home, besides the few times Nat had pushed her to the balcony in her room. Wanda had been there for four days now, and her progression had definitely gotten better, but the ups and downs of coming to terms with losing someone a person loves still made themselves known.
It had been silent the last 10 minutes as they tossed the ball and exercised the energetic and lively rottweiler. It hadn't been awkward or uncomfortable silence. No. It was more of a needed silence before the inevitable conversation came up.
However, to Bucky's surprise, Y/N was the first to talk.
"How are you?" she asked, picking up the slobbered tennis ball and throwing it a normal distance, considering she hadn't shown any sign of her powers since they'd gotten back to the compound.
Wanda had mentioned she had kept them at bay in times like this. She had said quietly to him like it was a secret that it made Y/N feel more human. And the escape, even if a small choice in itself, of separating herself from the powers that tend to hurt more than help in these high emotional times was something she'd rather not be reminded of.
Bucky hadn't thought about it like that, though. Her powers brought great pros in her life and to those around her, but in feeling emotions as high as Y/N likely had, given such gifts, he could see going on strike from the one thing that is hurting you in the grieving process as a sense of control over it.
He furrowed an eyebrow at the question and looked at her from the side.
"Don't act shocked that I'm asking you," she chuckled quietly under her breath, brushing off her hands and still looking forward.
"I'm doing ok," he answered after a few seconds.
"This again?" she laughed, and the sound caught him off guard with how authentic it was. "I thought we got past the simple sentence answers." He couldn't help the smile at the memory of being called out during their first meeting at her house, where she had pinpointed him for the same thing.
"May be a simple sentence, but it's not far from the truth," he shrugged, hands in his pockets as they walked.
"Does that mean it's not close to it either?" she hummed, and he watched her give him a side glance before a small smirk marked her lips. "I'm a human lie detector, Bucky. Energy shifts at everything, and I can't really get away from it even if I try. And trust me, I've tried..."
He nodded, thinking back to Wanda's recent comment on her annoyance with her power, and decided not to question her admittance and that also she was right. They had grown closer than that in the short time together, and his simple answers weren't needed as an extra protection measure anymore.
"It was worrying..." he replied simply because he let her feel the emotion instead of hearing it.
She bobbed her head up and down softly as she could sense just what all he meant in the three words, and knowing she didn't need to ask for details, considering she was the one to put him in that state.
Her veiling, she had explained she used to keep her emotions from affecting others, wasn't held up as well lately, and he could feel the guilt fog around her.
His answer wasn't meant to evoke that feeling from her, but he realized she'd feel it whether he wanted her to or not. He wasn't sure how to approach it and assure her he had welcomed the worry because it was her. He was empathetic toward her, and he wasn't bothered by the emotion like she was likely convincing herself that he was.
"There are pros and cons to having people you care about in times like these," she paused in her step, and he mimicked her. "Obviously, more pros and honestly only one con, but it's such a big one; it weighs more on a person's shoulder."
"What's that?" he asked after she paused, picking up Ryker's ball he had returned and then threw it a decent distance.
"Your grief starts to leak into others' lives. You want to hoard it for yourself, not let anyone touch it with a ten-foot pole if you can help it, but at the same time, it's their compassion to give."
She was talking about how her groveling affected others when she was the only one she felt responsible for holding onto it. Yet she made the point he would have in saying it was their sympathy and compassionate worry to give away.
"Being alone makes it easier," she sighed, looking at the manicured yet dry grass from the season in front of her before moving to sit gracefully in the field as Ryker pranced back to them leisurely. "In the sense you don't have to think about others looking out for you in a way you know will hurt them too."
"Choices are a crazy yet vital thing in a human's life," Bucky countered, getting a glance from her before she nodded in agreement.
That damn word had been haunting her the last week more than it had her whole life somehow. Choices.
Before the conversation could take too much of a sad turn, Ryker walked in front of Bucky, looking at Y/N for a moment before dropping the ball in front of the soldier to throw this time.
"I think he likes your throwing arm better than mine," she smiled softly, and Bucky looked down at her in the grass, shocked that Ryker, with Y/N right next to him, had gone to him. "That and maybe just you in general since I've been a lousy pet owner the last couple of weeks."
"Trust me, his loyalty is still yours," Bucky laughed, taking the ball and chunking it a considerably longer distance than Y/N had the energy to do.
The black and copper-furred canine barked in appreciation before sprinting off like his life depended on getting the ball as fast as possible.
"I know I've said it a million times, but I really do appreciate you taking care of him while I was in my stupor," she sighed in an exhausted way before leaning back on her hands, welcoming the pricking of the dead grass on her palms. "More than you can imagine."
"As I've said before, I'm happy to do it. He's a great companion to have," Bucky hummed, sitting a hand touch away from her. He pulled his knees up and placed his arms across the top of them as they both watched Ryker get the ball and shake it violently back and forth a few times before running back to them.
"He likes you a lot, and he's not trusting to most," Y/N smiled to her four-legged friend. "I mean, I may be a little worried he likes you more than me at this point," she chuckled softly, picking at the ground with her fingers mindlessly.
"I highly doubt that. I don't think I can beat you out after maybe a month of knowing him," Bucky chuckled.
"He is very particular about people, much like me," Y/N shrugged, throwing a tiny weed to the side and going for another one. Bucky watched as she dug into the ground gently without a care of the dirt getting under her nails. "I can tell. His energy is very trustful and empathetic toward you."
"He's a good dog- a great dog," was the only way Bucky knew how to take the compliment. He knew what she was saying meant a lot to her and her pet. But he had never gotten better at taking kind words with grace, even with his extra time on earth.
"He's been through hell and back. So yeah, he's perfect considering what he could have become."
Bucky's forehead crinkled at her comment, and he turned to her as Rkyer took a moment to roll in the grass, grunting happily. He remembered after their first real conversation, Y/N mentioned that he was older, but she had never really gone into his past.
"How old is he again?" Bucky tried to question casually.
Y/N let out a genuine, yet short, laugh at that. When she saw the honest confusion on his face, her smile changed to surprise.
"I thought I told you-? Did I not tell you where I found him?" she asked, peering up at him through her lashes, getting a slow shake of his head in answer. "Huh, well, it's an interesting tidbit of an origin." Ryker pranced to the two with overwhelming joy, and she patted his head as he sat and panted from his sprinting before laying down and looking out at the landscape with them. "I don't have an exact timestamp, but from what we've been able to deduct, he's at least 50 years old."
There was silence. No instant reaction. Just silence. When she turned to Bucky, he was dead, staring at her with a straight face.
"No, I'm not joking, and yes, I said 50... The big 5-0," she nodded, already knowing what question would come as almost everyone had the same reaction.
A few minutes passed, and Ryker was already jumping up and grabbing the ball to continue his play. But Y/N patted her leg, and he moved to roll into her lap, showing his belly and waiting for scratches from his owner. The neon green ball never left his mouth.
As Y/N waited patiently for Bucky to return to reality, she sat scratching and loving on the black and brown dog, making up for the time she hadn't in the last week.
"H-How?"
"I really never told you the story?"
"I feel like I would have remembered."
"I guess you're right," she shrugged with a giggle, taking the ball from Ryker's mouth and handing it to Bucky to throw when the dog had sat back up energetically. "I found him on one of my missions in the late 70s. I infiltrated an experimentation lab. Funny how 50-some-odd years later, and they never seem to die off," she huffed out in annoyance. "Hell, we both know they were around way before the '70s, but that's beside the point. The building was vacated, but I could tell there were other energy sources around the place. A shed about half a kilometer from the facility and hidden in the dredge of a dying wood, there were other experiments I hadn't been aware of."
Bucky watched as she retold the story. The process of distracting her from her present issues was helpful.
"I was working alone at the time. I had secretly led a small military force to the lab by giving them clues at their campsite. They had no idea it was even me who was pointing them in that direction since I was still trying to stay under the radar. Anyway, as they were arresting and wrapping up their newfound gift, I stayed hidden in some trees far enough away not to be seen. My position was close enough to the shed to feel the vibrations of another life force around me. I sought it out and found cats, rabbits, snakes, and rats. A weird amount of exotic pets. But there was one cell in a contained area that was more closed off and locked down than the others. It didn't take me more than ten seconds to break through the barricade they had made around it, and inside, I found an adolescent pup. Confused, terrified, and alone."
When she looked at Ryker, already walking back up to them, he stopped and came over to lick her face. What Bucky believed was to comfort her in knowing he wasn't in that situation anymore. As long as he was by her side, he wouldn't have to worry about being put back into that situation ever again. That's the amount of love and trust he had for her.
"Love you too, Ryk," Y/N laughed, kissing the top of his head. Bucky knew they communicated silently as the two were likely bonded in ways others would never understand. "Long story short, I got him out, but not until I got him to believe I was there to help him. It took some time for him to fully trust me, given his history was likely violent and abusive, but we made it out."
"Did you ever figure out why he was there or what the extra protection was for?" Bucky asked.
"I hacked into the military file they later wrote for the mission and learned humans weren't the only things being experimented on. And unfortunately, this was when I was somewhat coming back from a long working hiatus, so I was rusty when it came to taking careful precautions while on the job..."
"What do you mean?" he dragged out, confused.
"He wasn't the only animal that came out of their power tapped out. I led breadcrumbs to the shed after I got Ryker out, and the file informed me that there were other animals that certain people should have been given clearance to handle. There still might be a few teleporting rabbits out there..."
"How-Why didn't I- There are teleporting rabbits?"
"That's beside the point," she waved off casually.
"Is it?" Bucky said, turning his head to the side in stupefaction, but she kept explaining.
"I was starting to think he was one of the few that wasn't experimented on, considering he wasn't showing any signs of mutations, but his cage was the only thing keeping me from believing that fully. I later learned he just hadn't chosen to exhibit the mutations."
"What caused the trigger?" Bucky asked, knowing how the science of it all worked.
"Some sketchy guy on a walk decided to take advantage of what he thought was a young, defenseless girl and her puppy. I didn't even get a chance to show him he made an ill decision before Ryker stepped up." She was patting Ryker's head, and Bucky turned his attention to the dog, who was closing his eyes and smiling at the affection. "Wanna show him, Ryk?" He perked at that and quickly stood, wagging his stubbed tail as he looked between the two, waiting for further command. "Go on. We got the space," she gestured to him to go further out in the field.
Ryker sent one more questioning look before his ears went back in excitement. He pranced about 15 feet out into the field and then looked one more time for confirmation. Y/N laughed before yelling out a foreign word similar to one he remembered her whispering on the farm.
Said code word got a bark from Ryker before the next thing Bucky knew, the dog's face was hanging over him.
And no... Not his normal-sized face. His head was now ten times the average size, if not more. Bucky had leaned back into the grass as the dog's body hovered over him after becoming the size of a bus or two.
Many words tried to come out, but all that he could manage to let escape was a gasp and a choked grunt as he looked up with huge eyes on the giant.
"Yeah, he gets big," Y/N smiled up at him with pride, and Bucky looked at her for a moment, seeing no sense of shock, though why would she? He just couldn't quite believe it himself.
"Oh, and this." She sat up and walked over to his leg. Again, she said something in another language. On command, Ryker brought one of his giant paws up and stomped it showing he received the command. "Come here," she motioned to Bucky.
"Why?" he asked nervously, still stuck in his posture from shrinking back as Clifford the Big Copper dog appeared before him. It wasn't nerves as much as it was pure shock from the fact the dog he had been taking care of the last week had superpowers the whole time.
"Come on. Just trust me," she waved him on, a gleeful smile, one he hadn't seen in a while, on her face. She moved to offer her hand when she saw his hesitance. "He won't bite. Trust me if he wanted to, he would have already."
Bucky slowly took her hand and stood up. But she didn't let it go until they were standing next to Ryker's leg, which was now as tall as a flag pole. He scanned the limb, but it looked no different outside of its size, then he looked back at her.
"It's big," he said simply as if that was all he could fathom to get out.
"Punch him," Y/N replied without any sense of apprehension.
"Pardon?" Bucky froze in his spot at her words.
"Hit him. With your metal arm, too," she restated.
"I'm not going to-. Y/N. Why would you want me to hit him?"
"Ugh, no one ever takes the first shot," she rolled her eyes before smiling slyly. "Just kidding, that was a test. Thanks for not punching my dog."
"What if I had?" Bucky asked with a confused and alarmed look.
"I knew you wouldn't. I can tell. There are people who would jump at the chance, usually with bad souls. Then there are people that look at me like I'm crazy, much like you just did and those are the people I actually let into my life. I've weeded out some bad agents with that one," she winked.
"But," he started, still concerned she was asking and risking such a thing.
"Don't worry. I'm not a sadist. I wouldn't ask such a thing without knowing nothing would have happened." She went over and patted the side of Ryker's leg. "Watch," she gestured for the brunette to come closer. He hesitated a little longer this time. "I'm not going to make you do anything outlandish, I promise. Just come pet him."
At a slow pace, he walked over to the side of Ryker's leg she was standing by and began to pet him. Nothing crazy happened.
"Nunc, Ryker," she commanded in Latin.
Just as Bucky's hand went to pet the fur, all his weight fell forward as plunged into the side of Ryker. His foot hadn't moved from his spot, but Bucky's body began to fall through where the leg was standing strong. Y/N grabbed his arm, pulling upright before he could face plant into the ground.
"What just-"
"He can change his density," Y/N summed up instantly. "Like Vision."
"So I just-," Bucky examined his hand when he pulled it back.
"Went through him? Yeah. He thinned out his particles. Or something like that. I don't know. Banner tried to explain it and it got complicated." She said another command that had Ryker returning to normal density and patted him a few more times, showing he was solid again. "Which is why if you ended up punching him, it would likely leave a scratch on those vibranium knuckles of yours."
"Stronger than vibranium?" Bucky said, impressed.
"Well, I haven't voluntarily hit him with Steve's shield ever, so I'm not hundred percent sure, but from the lab test Bruce has run on him, he's able to adjust to the density of whatever he's fighting. It's an adaptation mutation."
"I can see that," he said as he tapped the dog's leg, which was rock solid now. Like tapping the side of a mountain. "Huh... You have a superhero dog."
"He's my mutant mutt. That's what I call him," she smiled before saying a few more words in the dead language, and the giant dog went back to normal size.
Bucky took a step back at the change and looked from the dog to Y/N with huge eyes.
"Well... I'm going to have to adjust to that new knowledge," he hummed slowly as Ryker came up and nudged his hands for pets as if the newfound science wasn't astonishing in the least. "Makes a lot more sense why you have a pet, considering the job."
"Yeah, being away from the farm full of ordinary animals is more work than I'd care to worry about if I decided to jump back into this life full-time again," Y/N sighed, patting Ryker's head as he moved to stand between the two.
There was a moment of silence before Bucky chuckled and then squatted down to ruffle Ryker's head. Exuding to the pet that he wasn't scared but, in fact, impressed by the guard dog's talent.
"Now you know why it was so important to me that someone was taking care of him. It's not often, or really ever, that I can't make time for him, so again. Thank you," Y/N said a moment later. "For taking care of him when I couldn't. In doing that, you took care of me as well."
Bucky looked up at Y/N with kind eyes, seeing similar ones on him, but also with a hint of sincerity.
"It's nothing-" he started.
"It's most definitely something," she cut him off. "No one has to do anything in this world. As we mentioned earlier, everything anyone does is 100% a choice. And you decided to care for a practical stranger's dog without hesitance, while she mopped around dramatically like a dead person waiting to be resurrected..."
The last parts were said with a hint of anger at the process of her grieving.
"Y/N, how a person grieves isn't about dramatics. It's unique. Every person has a different way of coping and processing loss. You can't give it a level of how dramatic a person is when dealing with it," he relayed with concern as he stood back up to her height. "And you know for a fact that anyone in that building would drop everything in a heartbeat to pull you out of any kind of pit you find yourself in."
"Yes, I know, but-"
"Stop. Don't even finish that sentence. Let people take care of you if they want to," he said simply, grabbing both of her shoulders in his hands and stepping with only a few inches between them. "It's something that's taken me years to allow myself, but it's served me so much good when I put my guard down and allow people to care for me. You aren't any different. You deserve that same kind of care."
She looked up at him and processed his words. It looked as though they had a new meaning to her, and the wisdom she likely had already known had hit her in a way she had been too stubborn to allow up to this point.
She opened her mouth to say something back to him, and he couldn't help but move his eyes down to the movement before they were cut off by another voice.
"Hey, you two," Nat interrupted with a smirk on her lips. "Good to see you getting some vitamin D and fresh air," she walked towards the two, and Ryker barked as he ran after her, jumping slightly for attention before she laughed and gave it. "Mind if I borrow Y/N for a moment? I have some things I need to go over with her."
Bucky turned back to Y/N to see her still staring at him with a slight color on her cheek. She turned to Nat before he could think any further about the change in energy, and she nodded, walking to her. "Everything ok?" she asked gently, and Nat nodded before motioning her to walk with her.
Bucky watched the three move towards the compound again and decided not to eavesdrop on their conversation but instead wade back until they were back inside. He could use a few extra minutes outside with the cool air to ground him.
______________________
"You better not be saying I stink," she glared at Nat, even if it held no hostility.
"Not what I'm saying at all," Nat chuckled, guiding her to the bathroom in her room. "Just take a shower. Don't even worry about washing your hair if you don't want to. I can style it later. I laid out a dress for you when you get out. You choose if you want makeup or not. Then we are meeting the team downstairs for something and-"
"Nat, hold on a minute. Slow down. What's going on?" she stopped where Nat had pushed her to the shower door.
"Just trust me. That's all I ask," she replied with a genuine smile. "I put the sugar scrub you made and sent to me a while back on the shelf. Use that if you want."
After that, she shut the door and left Y/N to herself.
_______________________
"Anything else you need help with, Wands?" Clint asked just as she was about to open the door to Y/N's room.
"Is everyone ready at the location?" she replied, pulling her hand away from the knob.
"We're the last ones to go. The car's downstairs ready for us," he nodded.
"Then you've done enough. Thank you again, Clint," she smiled.
"Anything for you girls. I'll be downstairs when she's ready," he winked and turned back to the foyer.
Quietly coming in, Nat was sitting on her phone on the bed, and the light under the bathroom doorway showed Y/N was wrapping up inside.
"Do you think she caught on to our plan?" Wanda whispered.
"I feel like with her intuition and the dress I picked out, she'll put two and two together pretty quickly," Nat shrugged. "But, she hasn't come out yet, so I'm not certain."
Wanda took in a breath and nodded, slowly walking up to the door. She channeled in some and could feel Y/N's sadness. It was strong but different from the first day she came.
"Y/N?" she gently knocked on the door with the tips of her knuckles. She looked back worriedly to Nat, who was biting her lip, waiting for the unknown outcome as well. "Can I come in?"
There was a pause, and right before Wanda moved to turn the knob, it slowly creaked open, and Y/N stood in the doorway.
Her face was the slightest bit red from fresh tears being shed, yet there were no watermarks along her face. She must have cleaned them up before the girls saw.
"Hey," Wanda said with a reassuring smile. Then she could tell. Y/N's look and energy alone told that she knew what was going on. No need to look in her head. "Are you ready?" she asked in a tender tone.
Y/N slowly bit her lip in an attempt to keep the new tears from escaping so soon. Then she took a deep breath and nodded.
Wanda offered her hand and she took it with a thankful smile. As they started walking to the door, Nat opened it for them and lent her arm to Y/N.
The two flanking her side like the pillars they were for her. Both were there for moral and emotional support, and every other type of support a person can lend, plus some.
Saying goodbye is never easy, but when you have friends like she had, it makes it seem somewhat possible.
TAGS:
Everest Tags: (if I missed you in tags, comment on this chapter to let me know:)
@ginger-swag-rapunzel​​​ @annazierden​​​
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itshelia · 3 months
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Taking anti-depressant pills?? Seeing a therapist??? Journaling???? No need babe, my fav writer just dropped another x reader fic.
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poltoreveur · 3 months
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I can’t fix him but I could fuck him.
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buckyalpine · 3 months
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40s Sergeant Barnes with a nurse and a Sergeant kink (and breeding and house wife kink, virginity loss). This was supposed to be a pure smutty drabble but then I got in my feelings and added some fluff and angst but I promise Bucky is still a dirty, nasty little fuck in this. Just with a sweeter ending. The one he deserves.
Listen just imagine what a cute, sexy menace Sergeant James Buchanan Barnes would be just waking up from an injury when his eyes flutter open to the pretty nurse he’s been eyeing from the day he started. You’re not a shy, dainty little thing, nope. Not at all.
You bark out orders like a drill Sergeant and one glare from you is all it takes to get everyone in line and on task without a second thought. Even his superiors are scared of you, biting their tongue when you stitch them up and send them on their way before running off to your next patient.
Bucky was in love.
“Well aren’t you a sight for sore eyes” he rasps, throwing you a charming smirk while you roll your eyes in response, shaking your head. "How'd I get so lucky, got a my little angel tendin' to me"
“I see your injury hasn’t stopped hurt that mouth of yours Sergeant" You quirk an eyebrow while he playfully huffs as you change the dressing covering a gash on his abdomen. You swab the area clean and he doesn't flinch even though you know it must burn like hell, his muscles tensed while he continues to watch you with heart eyes. "Now you know I'm not your little angel, I got 20 other men to fix up, you better be out of this bed as soon as you're all healed up"
“C’mon sugar, you're breakin' my heart" Bucky gives you a little pout with those perfect lips and you catch the twinkle in his eye as he looks over your form with complete admiration. He loved your sassy, take no shit attitude and it's taking everything in him to calm himself down so he doesn't get a hard on right there in front of you.
"You'd tell that to a cat with three legs if it was in a nurses outfit" You try your best to not give into his flirty comments and puppy eyes, knowing damn well he's a heart breaker but he makes it so difficult when he continues to woo you with his boyish charm.
He can't help but chase after you; catching the way your eyes always dart around with anxiety when his group returns from an operation, relief flooding them when you finally spot him. He loves your indifferent attitude, patting him down to make sure he's uninjured but your furrowed brows and the tiny pout on your lips give away that you're worried.
How can he just let you go. Every time you check over him, he needs you closer.
So much closer.
-
"Ms. y/l/n, Sergeant Barnes is requesting you in his tent, he says it's urgent"
You shake your head looking over at the time, quietly making your way over to the tent he's stationed at, thankful that a number of troops were sleeping so you wouldn't be seen as you quickly slip inside.
“And what hurts now” you sass with your hands on your hips seeing the soldier in perfect health, doing your best to assess him without letting him know.
"Always checkin' over me" Bucky chuckles, seeing what you're doing; his words making your cheeks heat up, "Knew you cared about me sugar"
"Well what am I doin' here" You give him an unconvincing huff, struggling to keep your voice steady, refusing to meet his eyes, keeping your gaze on his silver dog tags instead. It doesn't help that he's handsome as hell with a light dusting of scruff covering his cheeks. Bucky's never seen you flustered before and it evokes something in him, all the blood in his body rushing south seeing your fingers twitch.
All he wanted to do was kiss you but now-
“Help your Sergeant out doll” He whispers, taking another step forward till his chest brushes against yours, his hand coming to tilt your chin up, "Will you?"
You gasp feeling his hardness press against your thigh, your heart fluttering wildly as his thumb traces your lips, any semblance of control you had slipping away feeling the warmth of his skin.
“Y-yes Sergeant Barnes”
His lips press against yours, soft and sweet, a stark contrast to the way his body was screaming for him to pick you up and toss you onto his cot.
"Sweet like sugar" He lets his hands fall to your waist, pulling you flush against his body while your arms drape on top of his shoulders. You stand on your toes chasing more of his lips and he chuckles at the needy whine you let out when he pulls away for air.
Now let's say your first night together was actually quite tame. He kisses you again and you swoon when he repeatedly checks in with you before going any further. His hand slips under your skirt, letting his fingers toy with places no on else has touched. With each night, he needs you more and more until he can't hold off any longer and neither can you.
-
You sneak into his tent and this time he doesn't hesitate to undress you completely, not when he needs you bare with nothing separating you both. You feel your heart race as he lies on top of you, draping a thin sheet over himself when you shiver at the chill night air. You feel his body heat instantly warm you up, his heavy cock resting between your soaked folds.
"Are you sure, sugar?" He asks, his hand cupping your cheek and stroking your skin.
"Please Sergeant" You whisper and the way you say his title makes his cock twitch. There's something so different about you when you're in his bed, a sweet little bunny giving herself to him completely. It drives him feral with a need to make you feel good, make you cry for his cock and his cock only, to keep you nice and full of him.
You don't look twice at anyone else and here you are completely naked in his tent with your tight little virgin cunt, your legs spread open so he can put his dick in you; there was no way he was ever going to let you go.
"You tell me if it's too much, alright?" His lips tickle your neck as kisses your skin while rubbing his heavy cock through your folds, coating it in your slick, "Breathe for me"
He slips his tags into your mouth as he starts to press in, the initial sting making you bite down hard onto the metal feeling a mix of pleasure and pain. You whine at the way he stretches you open, your thighs squeezing around his waist, nails digging into his shoulders.
"Shhh, that's it love, doin' so good for me so good for your Sergeant, look how you're takin' all of me baby" He looks down to where you're both connected as he continues to slowly push himself in till hes fully sheathed inside you. He gives you time to adjust, slipping his tags out of your lips and letting his tongue lace with yours instead, his balls already throbbing with how tightly you were squeezing his cock.
"Please-Sergeant" your heels press into his ass desperate for him to move, gasping when he starts to slowly roll his hips, barely pulling out.
"I got you love-don't worry" Bucky moves as slowly as he could not wanting to hurt you, taking just as much care of you as you had with him countless of times.
But he can only keep up at that pace for so long. Your muffled whines and moans don't help the way his mind is already spiraling. His pretty little nurse all spread out just for him, taking his raw, bare cock in her soaking pussy, squeezing him so tight, he was only a few strokes from cumming.
If it were up to him he would've proposed on the spot, thinking about making love to you on your wedding night, seeing you all shy and sweet wrapped up in soft white lace. If you were his wife, he'd take you apart every which way, not giving a fuck about traditions, taking you right on the dining room table.
You'd be the prettiest little thing for him to come home to, such a good wife all dirty just for her husband. Only he'd know the way your mouth would slobber all over his cock like your life depended on it. The way you'd moan at the taste of his cum. Bucky's eyes rolled back at the thought of you with nothing but some heels and a string of pearls he'd put around your neck while he stuffed you with cum and emptied his balls in you.
"S-Sergeant-I-oh god" You whimpered feeling his cock grow harder, your pussy pulling him right back in, feeling the coil low in your belly pull tighter and tighter as he hit that spot.
Meanwhile Bucky's jaw clenched as he felt his balls pull tight to his body, the tip leaking steadily in your pussy. His mind spiraled into places he didn't think would exist before he met you, rogue thoughts he only entertained when he had his dick in his hand. The harder he fucked you the more he thought about how gorgeous you'd look with a swollen belly.
Fuck, imagine if he got you pregnant right then and there. That nurses uniform would no longer fit you. Everyone would know he knocked you up, your perfectly round tummy carrying Sergeant James Barnes' baby, breasts heavy with milk, God, he wasn't going to last-
“Gonna let your Sergeant pump you full of cum?” He pants, letting his hands grip onto your hips like his life depends on it, the wiry hair at the base of his cock rubbing against your clit.
“Yes!!” You sob, biting down onto his shoulder to keep your cries down while he continues to fuck you into oblivion. You don't understand how such filth can spew from that pink, pouty little mouth of his. "Please-please-need-youI-I'm gonna-"
"M'yours sweet girl, m'all yours, go on, cum for me love, cum on my cock, it's all yours" He gazed into your eyes, cooing at your parted lips and sweat slicked skin. It didn't take long for you to shatter around him his lips smashing against yours to swallow your moans.
"Want your cum Sergeant" You beg , desperate to have him claim you from the inside.
"Oh fuck baby, y-you can't say that, m-gonna, oh fuckkk" Your words throw Bucky right off the edge as he lets out a deep groan stilling his hips and shooting endless ropes of his spend into you. You both lay in comfortable silence, your fingers playing with his hair; his usual kempt brown locks now disheveled .
“Y’know m’gonna marry you” his scruffy cheek nuzzles into your neck as he continues to stay deep inside you as his cock softens, “after all this is over. Gonna put a ring on that finger”
His words send a different wave of emotions over you, feeling more safe than ever, clinging onto him as tightly as possible. You let a whimper slip out and he pulls away from your neck with an expression of concern.
“What is it love” Bucky coos, wiping away the tears that slip you, stroking your cheek while you bite back a sniffle.
“Do you mean it? After this is all over?” You weren't sure what Bucky would want-there was still a war going on. Anything could happen. Perhaps this was just to keep his bed warm. Something to keep him calm, you were just someone to-
"Of course sugar" Bucky presses a firm kiss to your forehead, silencing the thoughts that tried to run wild. "You're mine"
-
And of course he gets his happy ending. Because when it's all over, he gets the ring for the girl he loves. He's on one knee, proposing to you with the sweetest words. He treats you like a princess on your wedding night, making love all night long until the sun is up.
There isn't a surface in the house he's left untouched. Nothing makes him more feral than moaning for his pretty wife, constantly taking her hand and wrapping it around his cock, watching that diamond glint with each stroke.
It doesn't take long for you to feel a little squeamish, knowing all the tell tale signs.
The day you tell him he's going to be a dad is one of the happiest days of his life. There isn't a single night that goes by where he isn't nuzzling his face into your tummy, talking to your little one.
Everything was perfecttt.
11K notes · View notes
l0caltiredgirl · 10 months
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me @ y/n when they do something i’d never do:
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like babe this isn’t us ?? get it together
52K notes · View notes
kurogxrix · 4 months
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me when the READER in the X READER has a name:
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like babe the fic ate but i do NOT look like an Aurora🙁
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gutsby · 3 months
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Wedded Bliss
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Pairing: Mob!Bucky x Reader
Summary: The marriage was arranged, and the sex is deranged. Bucky is so obsessed with your pussy that he almost forgets he’s meant to be faking this whole thing—and hating it, like sworn enemies are supposed to do.
Warnings: 18+. Dubcon. Corruption kink. Virginity loss. Arranged marriage between enemies. Brat taming. Breeding kink. Beefy, mob boss Bucky devolving into a fall-to-his-knees-just-to-fuck-you kind of horny mess.
Part 2 | Part 3
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You kissed him and wished him dead in the same breath. You said ‘I do’ and meant ‘I don’t,’ exchanged your vows like your own last rites, and felt him slip the ring on your finger as if he’d just tightened a noose around your neck.
You didn’t want to be a bride, and you sure as hell didn’t want to be the bride to Mr. James Buchanan Barnes.
Frankly, you were mortified.
And terrified, too, now that you knew your groom might actually kill you in the kitchen of your honeymoon suite.
“Have you lost your fucking mind?!”
“I walked down the aisle, didn’t I?”
Another plate went crashing on the wall behind your husband’s head just as he managed to duck. He side-stepped a spray of porcelain and glass and probably crushed several hundred shards beneath his polished black oxfords when he walked—stalked—over to you.
You’d just reared back to hurl a serving plate at his face when you found your speed swiftly outmatched. Bucky had your elbow gripped between his forefinger and thumb in less a second, and, pinching the bone like he might readily break it, he said, even as always,
“Put it down.”
You did as he told you and dropped the platter to the floor with a crash.
Rather than berate you for the broken china—or the four other pieces before it—your husband only smiled.
“Are we done?”
Hell, you wanted to be. Slide over a pen and a one-way plane ticket to someplace in BFE, and you’d be signing those divorce papers in a heartbeat. Unfortunately, your dear husband was just referring to the temper tantrum.
You weren’t totally sure if you were finished on that front, so you looked him up and down and shrugged.
“Now darling—” he started.
“Don’t call me that.”
“Light of my life—”
“I’ll kill you.”
Your cool, level-headed groom took each gibe like it was his sworn duty, and only when he yanked your wrists behind your back and shoved you toward the bedroom door did you sense that he might not be too pleased with your behavior.
Your knees struck the edge of the California King at the center of the room, and before you could will yourself not to fall face-first, Bucky nudged you hard again.
Still pinning your hands behind you, he followed your collapse on the bed and leaned over your prone body.
His breaths were hot on your ear; you could tell he was smiling as he started to hike your dress up your legs.
“It’s all part of the deal, doll.”
You wriggled under his hold and tried to angle yourself better to see him, hoping he’d see your scowl.
“The deal was to get married,” you reminded him.
“Mhmm,” Bucky hummed, just then starting to trail a finger up the uncovered skin of your calf with his other hand, “And what is it that married people do?”
You kicked your foot reflexively, paused, then said,
“Fight. Constantly. Probably resent each other for the better half of two decades before we finally decide that ‘making it work’ for the kids isn’t worth it at all, and I claim half of everything you own in a bitter divorce.”
That earned a chuckle from Bucky. He kept his roaming hand brushing up the back of your thigh and squeezed the flesh just below the swell of your rear.
“Don’t worry, my lawyer drafted a pretty good prenup.”
You opened your mouth to speak, but then he was tracing the contour of your ass with his palm, and you cut yourself short. Bucky carried on, careless as ever.
“But the kids you mentioned,” he said, “How are we supposed to get those?”
You pursed your lips and tried hard not to move when his fingers drifted inward—you wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of seeing you squirm. The bottom of your dress was bunched around your hips now, leaving you sorely exposed. Had your bridesmaids not thrust that stupid white lingerie set upon you hours before the wedding, you probably would’ve chosen something a little more modest than a thong. But here you were.
At least the sight seemed appealing to your husband, whose eyes hadn’t left you once while his hands grew even hungrier to feel your warmth.
“I’m hoping a sperm donor or one of your double-crossing mobster friends will knock me up, honestly,” you said, feigning enthusiasm at the thought.
A tart slap delivered to your ass told you that Bucky hadn’t found that funny. After, he started kneading the skin a bit harder.
“No shot,” he shook his head, suddenly gliding his fingers down closer to your core and waiting for you to say something in protest, “Only one that’s gonna be pumping this thing full of babies is me, I promise.”
It was like he wanted your retaliation, whether that be by a thinly veiled look of disgust or a reactionary jab of your own. You weren’t keen on fulfilling any wish of his, but at this point, you felt you had no other choice. When you sensed he was distracted by the newly-discovered heat between your legs and had loosened his grip on your wrists, you flipped yourself over on the bed. Shoved at his chest before he knew what to do with himself.
Of course, the push didn’t send him far, but it was enough to get his attention—and his hands off of you.
“I’m not having your babies, Barnes! I am never going to fuck you, no matter how long we stay fake married,” you spat.
At that, Bucky just raised his eyebrows and wet his lips. You were cramming your wedding dress back into place, glaring at him the whole time, and were scarcely more aware of the bright, teeming city outside the window than you were of your husband’s own growing erection.
Finally, you’d said it. His new wife wouldn’t fuck him. The sound of your resistance was almost a pleasure unto itself, and the longer you stared at Bucky with growing contempt and resolve not to do that thing, the more determined he became to make it happen.
Cat-and-mouse games had long been a staple in his life, and he was pleased to see them carry into his marriage as well. Surely if he’d triumphed in every pursuit for the last twenty years—facing the likes of some seriously execrable bandits and racketeers—he could take on a bratty woman less than half his size. You said you didn’t want his babies now, but just wait until he’d fucked you full of his cum once or twice. You’d be begging him for it in no time at all, and shortly thereafter, he’d have you barefoot and pregnant as many times as he liked. Always swollen with one of his children and whining for more.
The woman before him now had a murderous glint in her eyes, but he could fuck that away easy. In fact, he would live to do it. He traced the outline of your thigh over your dress and smiled when you tried not to recoil.
“Surely you didn’t think we’d be finger-painting and reading poetry to each other on our wedding night, hm?” he asked, almost delicately.
“Thought you might have one of your other women lined up,” you snorted. When you tried to move away, Bucky pinched your leg to make you stay. You winced.
“That’s not funny,” he said, a little more consternation in his tone. Like he actually cared whether you thought him a profligate Lothario or not, “Now that we’re married, it’s only you and me. No mistresses, nothing.”
Yeah, and he was just as likely arriving to your marital bed a blushing virgin. You rolled onto your side and pretended not to feel him tighten his grip as you did.
“Try the carnal part of our marriage yourself and I’m sure you’ll find I’m an exceptional fuck,” Bucky continued, speaking low as he stroked the chiffon of your dress.
You didn’t doubt the man was good—certainly the extent of his sexual escapades as a twenty-something seemed to demand it—but exceptional? No fucking way. You knew men like Bucky, with the world and every walking pair of tits at their fingertips, and almost all were incurably selfish. Cocky. The kind to jackhammer a woman for three consecutive minutes, roll over, and say, ‘Did you cum?’
No, there was not a snowball’s chance in hell your husband’s sexual prowess was even half as good as he claimed it was. Deciding to bite your tongue for the first time that night, though, you just stared at him blankly.
What you didn’t know was that your silence only stoked the flames of his ego, prompting him to press the matter further.
“What? You think I can’t fuck?” he said, “Any woman lucky enough to bed me has cum at least twice. Every time.”
Sure they did, Bucky, you wanted to say, but were suddenly drawn into his lap before you could speak.
“But let’s pretend I can’t,” he said, heedless of the face you made as soon as you were straddling his hips, “You wouldn’t let your husband prove himself tonight?”
“I don’t fuck strangers.”
Bucky smiled at that.
“Everyone’s a stranger until you get to blow them, honey,” he teased, squeezing your hips when you didn’t seem amused at all. Then you let out a cry, feeling yourself thrown back on the mattress like a rag doll while Bucky moved off.
Before you knew it, he was tugging your ankles down the length of the bed and widening his stance just a bit. He stopped pulling once your knees were grazing his black dress pants and your feet were dangling off of the bed.
“You like skylines?” he asked.
You frowned and raised a brow that he was quick to interpret as a ‘yes.’ He hauled you onto your feet.
“‘Course you do. All pretty girls like pretty skies,” he rattled on, strolling with you step-by-step to the set of French doors at the end of the room.
Bucky led you out to the balcony. The air was warm as it ever was, dull gusts of the evening wind curling up from the coastline below. Just as your husband had promised, the skyline of Santorini greeted you on either side, and you had to admit, it was more than just pretty. The views from your villa were absolutely breathtaking.
You stood with your back to Bucky, hands resting on the marble balustrade, and you felt him there, behind you. You didn’t bother to tilt your head when he drew even closer.
“What do you like most about it?” The question was simple enough, punctuated with a kiss on your shoulder. Your eyes scanned the horizon, the sea, even the quiet little streets down beneath, and you racked your brain trying to think of an answer that might satisfy him.
Before you could, though, you sucked in a breath when you felt your dress start to come undone at your back.
Bucky was unzipping your gown, gentle as ever, and probably grinning from ear to ear as he watched you shift uncomfortably in place and try to hold the material above your breasts where it had been fastened all day. Presently, you kicked your heel backward and hoped it would land somewhere near his balls. You missed.
“James,” you hissed.
Bucky groaned at the sheer intonation of his name on your lips.
“Yes, dear?”
“Why are you undressing me?”
Bucky had successfully dragged the zipper all the way down to your ass, and it seemed he was trying to shimmy the dress off your frame. You held on tight.
“I’d like to fuck my bride over the balcony railing, if that’s alright with you,” he answered truthfully.
The man was nothing if not blunt and crass. You turned around to give him a look, yanking your gown even closer to your chest.
“I’ll— I’ll tell my mother, Barnes.”
You felt stupid as soon as you’d said it—using your go-to threat whenever you were in distress. What were you, eleven?
“Your mother?” Bucky repeated, words steeped in derision, “Last I recall, mommy dearest was practically begging me to get you pregnant at the reception.”
Your jaw clenched, and you internally cursed your whole family. Your parents were supposed to be on your side throughout all of this—it was bad enough they’d pawned you off to a mob boss of unrivaled infamy all to settle a debt, but this? Your mother had assured you just the day before that Mr. Barnes was bound to tire of you within the year. No mention of sex or babies whatsoever.
The same mother who had beat you over the head with the notion of your own virginity since you were old enough to read, the one who had underscored just how important it was to wait for the right man to give yourself body, mind, and soul to, turning around and telling this filthy criminal to have you any way he liked. And knock you up? The fucking nerve of that woman.
You were so preoccupied with thoughts of your own backstabbing family that you hardly felt Bucky drag your dress the rest of the way down your body. It was only when you were completely bare before him, and your husband had just started to skim his lips over your tummy that you tensed with surprise.
“I don’t have to fuck you just yet, doll,” he murmured, having sunk to his knees and only moving lower. Then the corners of his lips twitched, “Least not with my dick.”
You tried to pry his head from between your legs before he could stretch his tongue so much as an inch.
“James!”
Again with that name.
“You know, I love when you call me that, Mrs. Barnes.”
Bucky was peering up at you now, soaking in the sight of your body in a white lace bra, panties, and stockings.
“Is my bride feeling shy?” he teased, gently nipping at your inner thighs.
You weren’t sure what you were feeling in that moment, to be honest. Revulsion, betrayal, arousal, you name it—each crowned with an all-encompassing hatred for the man currently occupying the space between your legs—while a still stronger desire almost hoped he would stay.
“You can hate your husband all you want and still let him tonguefuck you,” Bucky growled against your skin.
Like he’d read your mind.
In reality, your husband hardly needed the powers of telepathy to tell him just how turned on you were; the sopping wet spot in your panties said as much. From his vantage point, Bucky saw the disgust in your eyes slowly eclipsed by lust, and with a single flick of his tongue, he knew he would have you exactly where he wanted you.
“Just let it happen, honey.”
He felt your fingers thread tight through his hair and the first stir of your hips in tandem. One small, delectable whimper crossed your lips, and it took everything in Bucky not to tear your panties straight off with his teeth.
Instead, the man opted for a soft, gentle lick over your clothed slit. Testing the waters.
Your whimper was quick to meld to a moan, and then, just as fast:
“N-no, Bucky.”
To your dismay, his tongue didn’t retreat, only making firmer laps against your centre while his lips grazed the lace. He gripped your thighs and wedged himself deeper, and again, you cursed the paper thin fabric of your panties for letting you feel everything his mouth was doing. He hadn’t even made proper contact with your cunt, and your knees were already starting to shake.
He pressed a kiss above your clit through the flimsy material, and you almost tore a clump of hair from his head.
“No. Please.” You hardly made sense to yourself; it was clear you wanted his touch, but something inside you wasn’t quite ready to submit to the idea that this was all okay. That your husband’s tongue and lips might be meant for something like this, and you didn’t have to feel so guilty for wanting it either. Fucking purity culture.
“My pretty girl,” Bucky presently murmured above the fabric, words sending a dozen little shockwaves in their wake, “My beautiful fucking wife.”
The man inhaled your scent and could’ve sworn he was in ecstasy. Blinded by desire as he was, he really wasn’t bullshitting in the slightest when he gathered you to him and said you were the best; he’d genuinely grown transfixed by the feel of you, in spite of every fibre of his being telling him not to. The marriage was arranged, fake, and fueled by hatred—and somehow, Bucky couldn’t get enough.
Nor could he wait any longer. One light swipe of his finger tugged your panties aside, and then he was latching on, no cover this time, to take your clit between his lips. Sucking hard, going fast, needing it bad.
A moan rang loud in his ears, and your hand on his head was instantly joined by the other. You yanked his hair like you never had before, pulling so tight at the roots as though your pleasure depended on it. Bucky smiled around the soft pearl in his mouth and flicked it gently with the tip of his tongue.
“Feel good, baby?” he breathed.
His head tilted up to you, and he could see you were struggling just to breathe, face painted with a medley of emotions.
You didn’t know if you could, or should, be feeling this good from a man so evil. Bucky flattened his tongue and licked a long stripe up your pussy to ensure that you would. Then he posed the question again, smirking.
“You like my tongue on this wet, needy cunt?”
His words were so damn obscene, but you nodded anyway. Feeling small and powerless beneath those big, broad hands as they pinned you back on the marble and spread you even wider for the taking.
He loved how innocent and lewd you looked at once, wincing with pleasure and still trying to keep your composure like you thought a good girl should.
Bucky wanted to break that resolve. He brought one hand closer to your entrance.
And, just as your breaths were starting to hitch and grow more ragged in your chest, he pushed two fingers inside. The act surprised your husband almost as much as it did you—not quite, but almost—upon feeling how tight you were, how resistant to even two digits you seemed to be. He hardly knew whether to shove them deeper or pull them out, so fast did your muscles contract around him.
When you whined a loud, protracted, ‘FUCK!’ he figured he would stick with the former. He grinned, having never heard you speak, much less swear, out of pleasure like this.
Your head lolled back and your body made an arch when his fingers curled inside you. You were panting, moaning, coating his hand with your juices, and Bucky knew you were close.
He started pumping his fingers in and out while his tongue worked your clit, chin practically doused in your arousal by now. A swell of pride rose within him: he could finally bring you home to that sweet release, have you a shaking, soaking mess above his face like you were wholly his and no one else’s. He moved his tongue even faster and sank his fingers straight down to the knuckle.
Then, unexpectedly, both were robbed of your touch.
Seized with fear, you shoved Bucky off and stumbled away from his glistening face. You took off toward the doors and fled the balcony before you could think.
“What the f— honey? Honey?!” Bucky sputtered. He bounded after you.
You’d thrown yourself in the master bathroom and locked the door behind you in the blink of an eye. Outside, your husband had only to stare in pure bewilderment and awe, mind reeling at what had just happened.
Fucking hell, he knows. He knows! You collapsed against the door and slid down a couple inches. Your hand reflexively flew to your mouth to stifle the sounds when Bucky began pounding the wood behind you.
“Baby, what’s wrong? What’s—what’s goin’ on?”
In truth, you’d rather chug bleach than divulge the thought that had just scared the everliving fuck out of you back there. It was stupid and senseless and should’ve been frightening you for weeks before it ever came to this, but here you were, panicked in the bathroom of your honeymoon suite because you’d never done this before—and you’d never reached climax in your life without bursting into tears.
Fuck, you felt stupid. How could you think this would be any different—or that Bucky’s tongue wouldn’t eventually attempt to wrest an orgasm out of you?
It’d just felt so good, you thought maybe a new climax brought by someone else’s fingers might free you from the same unsavory demise you’d met a hundred times before, but then it hit you, shortly after Bucky had plunged his fingers inside, you were going to cry.
You winced when Bucky’s knocks grew louder, his voice gaining more ire by the second, it seemed.
“Open the fucking door!”
He’d rake you over the coals for this. Getting so close to what he wanted, only to have his silly little bride snatch it all away and run hiding in the en-suite bathroom? Your stomach turned at the thought of what men in the mob were liable to do with women like you—what Bucky might conceivably do now that you’d sparked his rage.
Your eyes darted to the window just as his fist shook the doorframe behind you. You ran over to the tub, tucked squarely beneath the windowsill, and climbed onto it just to get a hold of the fastenings around the glass.
One click synchronized with the furious cadence being hammered on the door, and just as you started to slide the pane up the way, a heavy thud sounded outside. The weight of your husband’s body being thrust against the door, most likely.
You bit your lip and lifted one leg over the windowsill, shuffling your body even closer to the outside world.
Three floors up! Have you lost your mind? You could hear your father’s words ringing in your skull already. There was a ledge, you reasoned, no more than ten feet below, if you could just grab hold of the frame right there and slide down the cool stone you might—
“Fuck,” Bucky groaned.
You watched your husband heave through the busted door of the bathroom, wide eyes and a ‘Here’s Johnny’ flourish raging hot on his face. Your heart leapt to your throat, and you started to lower yourself out of the window, hoping desperately for that ledge below to be sturdy. But before you could make it even half of the way there, strong arms were circling your frame and yanking you back inside, hurtling straight into the bathtub with Bucky tumbling over you.
“What are you doing?!” he roared.
You wriggled under his weight, petrified of the fiery look in his eyes as he lurched over your frame.
He straightened up just enough to shake you by the shoulders—like a parent reprimanding a child.
“What the fuck was that?! Huh? You think that’s fucking funny, jumping out windows?”
No, no, not funny, you wanted to bite back, but found your mouth dry and unable to speak. When Bucky shook you again, you had only to whimper a pathetic sound.
The man was enraged. Stubble still damp with your juices and looking undeniably frazzled and spent, he drew closer to your face and demanded you look at him. When he took hold of your cheeks in both hands, the command couldn’t have reached you any more clearly.
“What— what was that for?” his voice lowered as he tried to catch his breath. You still couldn’t move.
“I-I don’t—” you stopped and hardly knew how to say it:
Sorry to cut our tonguefucking session short, I was just afraid I might burst into a fit of uncontrollable tears while you licked and sucked me through the best orgasm of my life. I’d rather jump off, or out of, a building than tell my mob boss husband that I can’t cum without crying. By the way, I’m a virgin!
Instead, you just blinked and stared back at him.
“Can’t…do it,” you murmured.
Bucky’s expression only grew more puzzled by the words out of your mouth. He squeezed your face tighter and leaned in even closer.
“Do what? Sex? Fuck, I— I didn’t mean to be that aggressive, hell, I’m sorry.” He stopped to run a hand through his hair, and for the first time, you could’ve sworn you saw the first glint of compunction in his eyes.
He looked away a few seconds, as if collecting what fragmented thoughts he could, then brought his head back down to your level and took your hands in his.
“Honey?” he tried getting your attention, just barely above a whisper now, “I know the whole thing’s fucked, I know.”
That was the understatement of the century. To your surprise, Bucky’s gaze softened when he saw a scowl cross your face.
“We don’t…have to do anything. I was just pushing your buttons earlier. Being a dick.”
His tongue moved to wet his lips once more, this time without the seductive, smug demeanor he usually wore and simply exhibiting discomfort. He swallowed. The bow tie around his neck appeared to him to be fastened far too tight all of a sudden, and then, haphazardly, he started clawing at the garment to get it off.
You didn’t know why you felt compelled to help. It was like all ten fingers just lifted of their own accord to join Bucky’s hands in trying to undo his tie.
The silk fabric wasn’t tied, but knotted, crudely and inflexibly, beneath the little black bow. You frowned. Still unable to meet his gaze as you worked your fingers under the tangled material and tried to pretend like the two of you weren’t still sweating profusely from the events that had just transpired—both the tonguefucking and the window-jumping.
“Who tied this, a five-year-old?” you muttered.
“I’m thirty-eight, thanks,” Bucky returned just as quietly.
Both of you indulged in a smile that lasted no longer than a second, but you felt the tension ease a little.
This was not where you thought your dreaded wedding night was headed before. Curled up in a bathtub with your hands around your husband’s neck—and not actually trying to kill him—while Bucky blinked almost nervously the longer your hands lingered on his collar. It seemed he’d found something especially tantalizing on the wall behind your head, because his stare remained fixed on that spot the whole time you fiddled with his tie.
Maybe that, along with the last ebb of alcoholic influence from the reception still coursing through your veins, had emboldened you to come right out and say it while Bucky was looking away. You couldn’t be sure.
“I’ve never had sex before.”
At last, the tie loosened a little.
Bucky flicked his gaze back to yours in a second.
“What?”
You lifted a brow, wondering if he really needed an explanation as to what it meant to have never gotten laid before, but you decided against indulging him any further. Bucky seemed keen on doing that all by himself.
“You’re a virgin?”
You nodded.
“Didn’t my overbearing mother make sure you knew?”
“Yeah, I thought she was full of shit,” Bucky answered bluntly. Then, catching sight of the semi-offended look in your eye, mixed with a tad more amusement than indignation, he added, “I mean— I didn’t think you’d, uh, wanna wait…twenty-five years for some action.”
He winced when he realized that sounded just as bad. His throat cleared shortly to make way for a new attempt at comity, but you cut him off, shaking your head as you finally got the knot to untangle.
“No, I get it. I don’t know why I waited this long either,” you shrugged.
As soon as you’d freed him from his bow tie, you started to stand from the bath tub. Bucky, too, straightened to his full height and started to close the window while you walked back to the bedroom.
You eyed the rose petals strewn across the duvet and felt a little more relaxed this time around. The weight of the V-word had been lifted from your shoulders, and now you had only to share the crying-while-cumming stuff to Bucky later on. Much later on, you hoped.
You crawled onto the bed and stretched out on your belly, playing with the soft red petals and wondering if room service was still offered at this hour.
Bucky had just stepped out of the bathroom when he halted at the threshold. Saw your body sprawled out on the bed, back arched and ass pointed in the air as you reached over for the phone on the nightstand. He stared for a second too long and felt a familiar stir in his pants.
Sonovabitch, he started to think, before chiding himself silently, Shut up, man, she’s a virgin. Be cool. Be cool—don’t make her jump out a window again.
He ducked back in the bathroom and eased the door to just a crack while you discovered a voice on the line:
“Hi! Hey, I’d like to order room service to, uh…” your voice trailed off. Then, covering the mouthpiece, “James, what’s our room number?”
Inside the bathroom, Bucky squeezed his eyes shut at the sound of his name. Already palming his erection through his dress pants as he leaned against the wall.
“We rented the whole building, dear,” he called back.
“Oh.” He could just imagine the slight pout on your lips as you spoke. Then you asked if he wanted anything to eat, Bucky thought only of the sweet nectar between your legs, and he answered aloud, no, he was fine, really.
For the first time in his life, the man felt positively ashamed he was about to rub one out in a bathroom, alone. It wasn’t like this was the first it had ever been done, but now there was you, innocent and oblivious in the next room over, while Bucky undid his belt and quietly freed his cock from his dress pants. It felt kind of perverted, in a way, but he knew he needed this release to put his mind at ease and not feel so affected by you.
While you scanned your phone for a menu and chatted with the concierge downstairs about various food items, Bucky was spitting in his hand and fumbling for his shaft. You talked American Wagyu sirloin, lobster thermidor, and seared Faroe Island salmon while he thought achingly about the way your cunt had tasted and how badly he wanted to try it again.
How did he feel about an artisan cheese platter? Bucky hardly had the wits about himself to answer beyond a strangled, ‘Whatever you want, honey’ and a tightened fist around his cock, stroking hard to get the filthy thoughts out of his head before the food arrived.
Ever sweet, soft, supple, and savory—his mind reeled with fresh memories of that place between your thighs, and he almost lurched forward in pleasure.
Your brute of a mob boss husband was irreparably pussy-whipped and hadn’t even fucked you yet. He gripped the bathroom sink beside him and sincerely wished it wasn’t his hand doing the work right now. But of course, he had to be patient, had to be kind—couldn’t force himself on a woman who clearly wasn’t ready.
Again, he spit in his palm and jerked himself fast.
Any minute now, he thought with some relief.
Your feet padded softly into the living room as the pleasure inside him was starting to crest. Still pining for your warmth and the way your legs trembled around his head, Bucky was all but fucking his hand at this point. He’d snagged his bottom lip between his teeth in a lopsided smile and groaned, too low to be heard, and pumped himself even faster for his impending orgasm.
A thought crossed your mind as you stopped ahead of the sofa. You pivoted.
Suddenly, you were skipping back to the bathroom, wanting to know Bucky’s wine preferences before you placed another order.
You barged in and froze.
“Sorry!” you squeaked, darting out just as fast.
Five seconds slower and you probably would’ve seen Bucky blow his load all over the sink. As it was, the man was left sorely at a loss for any form of release and heaving fast, ragged breaths from the colossal scare you’d just given him.
Good fucking going, Buck—your wife wants to cuddle and eat cheese and you’re out here beating your meat.
Bucky shoved himself back in his pants and waited an excruciating minute for the sound of your second window exit of the night. A slammed door, a frantic phone call, a few sobs into your pillow as you realized how dirty and depraved your husband was, anything.
He was only met with silence.
Taking one more shaky breath, Bucky reached for the doorknob and started back out. Cautiously.
The man took his slow, silent leave of the bathroom with his gaze trained toward the doors—half-expecting to see his bride rappelling from the balcony—but then quickly shifted to the bed. Finding you kneeling at the edge.
“James?”
Your voice almost pained.
A word was all it took. Bucky was back on his knees.
“I’m sorry. I just wanted it to go away, honey. I’m sorry.”
Go away? You quirked a brow and couldn’t hold his gaze much longer; just trailed your vision down his torso to his pants, then his erection, still standing prominent as ever.
Bucky struggled to decide whether you were ticked off or intrigued, seeing your eyes make their painful appraisal of his length beneath his pants. Your brow was pinched, but your head was cocked. Almost curious.
“Are you mad at me?” you asked, gaze fixed on the spot.
Immediately, Bucky rose to his feet and crawled back on the bed, seizing your body with both of his hands.
“No! No, not mad at all,” he mumbled as he sidled up beside you. Pleased to see you hadn’t recoiled, “I was just, uh…missing you, ‘s’all.”
If his men could see him now, Bucky was sure he’d be the laughing stock of all the town. Doting and kind, eyes softened beyond recognition, he just watched you and wanted nothing more than to repair the smile that had ebbed from your face. Come ridicule, hell, or high water, the man was infatuated with his bride—all broken plates and attempted window escapes be damned.
Presently, you brought your hand down to his bulge.
Bucky stiffened but didn’t speak. He wanted you to do this on your own, of your own volition.
“You seem kinda mad to me.” You hardly knew what you were doing. Just rubbing his length and hoping it was something he’d like.
Where Bucky had wanted to see you smile, you just wanted to hear him grunt and whine—maybe grab your hips and beg you to do something, please. You’d never felt any such degree of control, and you suspected Bucky had never not felt it himself. You wanted him desperate.
You were playing a dangerous game, you knew it, but something inside those baby blues said he wanted to do it, too. Do anything for you, quite frankly.
You watched the rise and fall of Bucky’s broad chest and stroked his length even softer.
“James.”
“Uh-huh?” His mouth hung open with a gentle grunt, fighting every instinct to buck into your touch.
At last, you squeezed his shaft and prodded him on. Let your head drift closer to his so his lips would graze the apple of your cheek, and just when you sensed he wanted a taste, you tilted your face toward his own,
“We haven’t even kissed since the ceremony.”
Bucky stared blankly at you, enrapt with the pulse of your fingers. You could tell he was aching to move.
“Oh yeah?” he murmured.
You nodded a wordless affirmation and slid sharply back in bed as Bucky lunged after you. Your hands flew from his pants to the plush mattress behind you as you shifted—or, rather, scrambled—back in place and felt your husband climb over you hungrily.
“That what my wife wants?” he murmured, frame slotting tight between your legs.
You nodded again, and had only to suck in a breath before Bucky was devouring your lips. The kind of flushed, frantic, filthy kiss that would’ve doubtlessly wrought looks of horror on every face at your wedding had he grabbed you that way after the declarations of ‘I do’ had been spoken.
You loved him like this, impassioned and a bit unhinged.
His tongue worked his way past your lips and scoured every soft, fleshy inch between the insides of your cheeks before he took your face in his hands, kissing you roughly.
Something hard and throbbing nudged your sex, and suddenly you were whining in his mouth. Wrapping your legs around his waist.
“Ah, honey, don’t,” Bucky groaned, visibly straining to contain himself. When you dug your heels even deeper in his back, the groan that followed from him was hoarse and guttural.
“I thought— I…fuck,” your husband turned his head to curse as you grinded your hips up to his. You had to bite back a smile.
“I just wanna do what married people do,” you murmured coyly, pretending not to see when Bucky shot you the most red-hot, wanton look he’d imparted all evening.
“Yeah?” Like a kid in a candy shop the size of Sears.
Bucky took your face in his hands once more and made sure to scan your expression for any shred of doubt. On finding nothing there, he sat panting, half-disbelieving and half-contemplating all the wretched things he wanted to do to you. You squeezed his sides with your thighs and just hoped your husband knew what to do, because, in truth, you didn’t have the first fucking idea.
A few dry, clinical terms flashed before your mind’s eye, along with your mother’s bleak depiction of what treatment lay in store for a woman on her wedding night, and as Bucky started to work his belt and his pants off, you just hoped he wouldn’t be cruel.
He couldn’t be, right? He’d only mowed down a hundred men and dismembered dozens more, you were told, but surely a set of eyes this soft, caring, and kind couldn’t belong to a monster. You let him lift your hips and shimmy your panties, garter belt, and stockings down your legs, and when he returned, you tried your best not to betray the thoughts in your head.
Bucky hadn’t been with a virgin for as long as he could remember—maybe ever. His own ‘deflowering’ an ancient relic of his boyhood and the multitude of partners since then a mere flurry of nameless faces, he sincerely couldn’t recall a time when he’d asked, or cared, whether the woman beneath him had her cherry intact. He didn’t suppose it could be too different, as he peeled the last pieces of your lingerie set off your body and saw you seemed perfectly ready. He ran a finger between your folds and felt you shiver with what looked like excitement. Piece of cake, he thought, smiling.
No doubt he would take great joy in making you his own. His bride, his wife, an unblemished beacon of light in a life as sordid as his, looked perfect spread before him. You would adjust to his size. Bucky trailed the head of his cock up your slit and coated himself in your juices, and just when he’d bracketed his other arm around your head on the pillow, you let out a small sound.
“Are you sure it’ll fit?”
Bucky fisted his length and pressed the tip to your entrance.
“Uh…yeah. Yeah, I think so.”
He hadn’t yet met a woman who wasn’t able to fit him.
“Okay.”
Somehow, your voice sounded even smaller, head lodged between pillows and the crook of Bucky’s elbow. You felt small. Frankly, it didn’t seem like your husband was quite computing the worries that were pervading your brain, but you decided he knew best—your mother had assured you that husbands always did—and when Bucky first pressed the head of himself to the seam of your cunt, you hardly even whimpered.
You watched his brow furrow above you. He tried to go further.
Your folds were as soaked as he’d ever seen a woman’s, your hole practically pulsing with desire, and somehow, he couldn’t push in.
Bucky snagged his lip between his teeth and braced himself with the aid of the headboard, taking your hip in his other hand. A breath sounded on your lips the second he adjusted, and shortly thereafter, he felt your gaze on the same place he was watching: the spot where your bodies were trying to connect.
His features darkened at the prospect of failing, or even appearing incompetent to you in the slightest. He’d done this hundreds of times before, why wouldn’t it work?
When he felt your eyes trail back up his body and study his face—maybe wondering why her new groom hadn’t gotten around to thrusting into her yet, he thought—he felt a swell of panic and pushed.
Against his better judgment and the feel of your body, he muscled his way through and forced his cock inside. Bottoming out in a single, stabbing thrust.
You seized in pain but wanted to be a good wife for him.
Bucky, too, felt his hips stutter at the resistance your walls were giving him, but then remembered how he’d sworn to be a dutiful husband, and kept going.
Together, you stared anywhere but the other’s face and gritted your teeth for two entirely different reasons—you, in agony, and Bucky, in ecstasy, the latter hoping with everything in him that you liked this as much as him.
Bucky took a tender, if not slightly awkward, rhythm rutting against your body and stared steady at the headboard like he always did.
You were in pain and faced with nothing but his hulking chest, moving up and down, back and forth, over and over again like a goddamn seesaw from hell while it felt like your insides were presently being torn to shreds.
Who fucking enjoys this? you wanted to wail, but feigned a moan instead, raking your nails down Bucky’s back, Why isn’t he looking at me? Why isn’t he touching me?
Your walls involuntarily clenched around him, and he swallowed a moan.
Just think of baseball, beer, math, the Roman Empire, anything to keep from busting right now, Bucky told himself as he clenched his jaw and fought to maintain his pace. Your pussy just felt so. fucking. good.
Beneath him, you had tried and failed to fight back tears. The burn was just too much; the longer he thrusted, the more your walls contracted, and confusingly, stupidly, it seemed like he was using you. Your mother was right, most likely, that sex was just a means to an end for men like Bucky, and your husband didn’t care about your pleasure at all. You fought hard to keep the waterworks at bay, that one thing you hadn’t wanted Bucky to see, but eventually, the tears were flowing freely.
You stifled a sob that your husband mistook for a moan.
He fucked you even faster and felt a grin start to twitch at the corners of his lips when you made a sound that seemed consistent with pleasure.
“Feel so fucking tight,” Bucky grunted, about to lower his gaze to your face for the first time since he’d entered you, “So nice and tight and w—hey, hey, baby?”
He stilled inside as soon as he saw that you were crying. Took your face in his hands and almost couldn’t believe the sight of your tear-stained cheeks beneath him.
“What’s wrong? What happened?” he asked, scanning your face for any signs of harm.
You just shook your head and tried to brush him off.
“Keep going, I’m good.”
Bucky seemed angered at the suggestion. He brought your face closer to his and stared almost reproachfully down at you. Then he paused a beat and swiped one of your cheeks with the pad of his thumb.
“Am I hurting you?” he asked.
“N—”
“Don’t lie.”
You squirmed a bit and winced. That was answer enough for Bucky, and he slowly pulled out of you.
“Aw hell.”
The two of you glanced down to see a blooming red spot on the comforter. Bucky rubbed the blood in disbelief.
He’d gone too far. Again. Hurt something inside of you that couldn’t be fixed with a kiss. While you struggled to sit up among the pillows, Bucky was running a hand through his hair and cursing himself up and down.
“Why didn’t you say something?” he scowled.
“I didn’t wanna interrup—”
“If I’m making you bleed, you stop me, for fuck’s sake.”
“Well you seemed to be having a pretty good time!”
Bucky didn’t need to tell you in words what was painted on his face; he was pissed off and probably bound to slip off the bed any second, when your tears started welling up again. Then he eased off, remembering he was more mad at himself than anyone else, and slid closer to you. He tried pulling you into his chest, but you didn’t budge.
“C’mon,” you said, grabbing his wrist, “Let’s keep going.”
Bucky eyed you incredulously.
“Nuh-uh.”
“Uh-huh,” you insisted. He shot you a glare but didn’t protest when you guided his hand between your legs.
You were spread back open for him in no time. Still stinging like hell and ready for another go. Bucky almost couldn’t believe it.
“My headstrong wife.” He managed a smile before kissing the crown of your head, and kept right on kissing that spot no matter how far his fingers were traveling.
“You owe me two orgasms, remember, Mr. Barnes?”
It seemed Bucky’s boastful claims of late were in fact the furthest thing from his mind as he crawled back over your body. He pried your knees apart and left just enough room for his frame, taking his fingers to your folds and rubbing in light, gentle circles.
The bleeding had stopped. What little remained was long forgotten, and duly, the pain from recent memory was slowly but surely purged with every flick of his thumb. Bucky planted an arm next to your head and kept touching you there until your face relaxed completely.
When he chanced a finger inside, he was careful not to rub so much as plunge in quick, shallow motions, and at the first signs of pleasure, press light and tender kisses on your skin.
“If it hurts at all, you tell me.”
He sounded stern as he inserted another finger, but really, the man was all putty in your hands, wanting to please you and tease you in any way that he could.
When you told him faster, he sped up; you gripped his hair and said slow down, he did the same. He curled his digits in time with every whimper and moan you made and took care not to be too harsh on your sweet spot.
The only time he paused was when you looked up and asked him point-blank: could he fuck you sweet and gentle now?
Bucky paused. Swallowed.
The man would’ve screwed you six ways to Sunday if you asked him; that wasn’t the problem. The only traces of hesitation remained where your eyes said something different. Even as he shuffled between your legs at your behest, aligned his cock with your entrance, and felt a wave of desire wash over him, he pressed his forehead to yours and searched your glossy gaze once more.
“You sure about this, bunny?” he murmured.
Your heart melted at the name. You couldn’t deny you were frightened, and perhaps a bit worse for the wear after your last attempt, but his words were a comfort, his hand on your cheek a welcome gesture. When his thumb grazed your lips, you kissed it and nodded.
“Alright sweet girl,” Bucky said, tone laced with affection.
This time, before pressing the head of himself inside, Bucky caught your lips and kissed you softly. Rubbed himself up and down your slit—paying extra attention to your clit—and coated himself completely before trying to penetrate you again.
Your cheeks flushed, and you kissed him harder.
“P-please, Bucky, fuck me,” you murmured against his mouth, eliciting a small grunt from him.
“Yeah? You want your husband’s cock inside you, doll?” He kept the pretense of teasing, but really, he was just trying to make sure you wanted this as badly as he did. By the blissed out look on your face and the soft, ceaseless squelching noises produced by your arousal, he got the message pretty quickly.
He breached your folds with just the tip at first. You both felt your muscles contract. Instead of blindly pushing ahead like he had before, Bucky trained his gaze on your face and watched for any signs of discomfort.
“Everything okay, bunny?” he hummed as he brushed a few strands of hair from your face.
You were half in awe of how attentive he was, and doubly impressed by the stretch that followed—like a pinch, but nothing like the pain you’d felt before. You peered up at your husband and squeezed his shoulders.
“It— it doesn’t hurt this time,” you said, breathless.
Bucky could’ve caved at the sweet, innocent expression alone—like you were pleasantly surprised this hadn’t caused excruciating pain—and his lips moved down to pepper your cheeks with kisses again.
“Doll, I’m so sorry.”
The sounds and sighs of your pleasure beneath him, along with the words telling him it was okay, really, he hadn’t meant to do it, all made him feel even guiltier for having hurt you in the first place. It took him some time assailing your face with tiny, apologetic kisses before he even thought to feed you another inch.
When he finally plunged himself deeper, it wasn’t without your express permission; even then, Bucky feared he might split you in two.
The whole time he eased himself inside, he was moving his gaze between your face and the place between your two bodies—watching you open for him and take him inch by inch. He rubbed his thumb over your clit when you whimpered.
“Doing so good for me.”
“Stretching so nice for this cock.”
“My beautiful, beautiful wife.”
Every syllable of his praises flooded your head like honey. Feeling him stretch you out, fill you up, and rock you softly with his first shallow thrusts, all while talking you through it, had your mind ablaze and near-euphoric.
Pleasure practically searing your veins, you didn’t even hear yourself, or really mean to say it, as soon as you did.
“This doesn’t feel dirty at all.”
An epiphany to you and a puzzle to Bucky.
“What’s’at, honey?” He was still rutting his hips and slowly picking up speed. Your husband groaned when you clenched around him and pulled him even deeper—before you realized what you’d said.
Your cheeks flushed.
“I— I was always told sex made you dirty. This feels—” you stopped to swallow a moan when Bucky grazed a particularly sensitive spot inside you, “pretty nice.”
‘Pretty nice.’ Your husband couldn’t help the smile twitching at the corners of his lips as he leaned down to kiss you. He wrapped his big, muscly arms around you and pulled you closer to his chest.
“Makes you dirty?” Bucky said, disbelief evident in his tone before his smile broke into a grin, “Baby, you’re the cleanest, sweetest thing I’ve ever seen.”
He didn’t let you endeavor to protest, just buried his face in your neck and pressed teasing kisses all over the skin while he continued to pump in and out of you. He knew to keep hitting that spot, too.
You were drowning in whimpers and kisses when Bucky brought his lips to your ear.
“Doesn’t make you dirty at all,” he assured you, “Just makes you my wife.”
You clawed Bucky’s back when he sped up a little, and you felt the pleasure soar to even greater heights when he propped your legs above his shoulders—a brand new angle for him to bend you like a pretzel and fuck you good.
“You take this cock too nice to be dirty,” he gritted his teeth and continued to soothe you just how he knew you liked it, “Such a good little wife, sucking up every inch of me like you were made for it.”
Your lips parted in a soft ‘o,’ feeling him plunge the depths of your cunt like he never had before. Bucky slipped his thumb in your mouth while he held your face.
“That what you are, bunny? A good girl?”
You nodded your head and sucked his thumb, feeling yourself fucked dumb as you did. Bucky loved that blissed out look in your eyes.
“Good girl for daddy?” he cooed.
Your ankles trembled around his neck as soon as he said it. You nodded again, yes, you were, and felt a light coil start to form in your lower stomach as Bucky kept pounding you and pushing his thumb between your lips.
Then, with a pop, he plucked the digit from your mouth and brought it down to your clit. He started soft at first, but before long he was rubbing vicious circles on that little bundle of nerves, watching you come undone before his eyes and clench around him even tighter.
“B-Bucky,” you whined, fisting the sheets underneath you both as you squirmed.
“Mhmm?” Your husband pretended to be oblivious.
“I w— I’m gonna—” The words could scarcely leave your lips without finding themselves punctured with a whimper as soon as they were spoken. Bucky thrusted harder.
“Gonna what? Cum for daddy?” he grinned, “Make a mess all over this cock?”
Your moans of pleasure more than sufficed for an answer. You nodded and winced, felt your whole lower half seize with a warm and heady feeling, and before you knew it, Bucky’s thrusts were sending you spiraling over the edge, with a wave of bliss following shortly behind. Sounds of skin slapping skin hardly faltered, and Bucky kept rubbing and fucking you all throughout the waves of your high.
Tears sprung to your eyes, and you didn’t care. Your mind was alight with more bright, fervid feelings than you could count or comprehend, and your body washed over with pleasure.
You clung to Bucky and felt him keep fucking you, even as you shrieked against his skin.
“One more for me, honey.”
You didn’t think that was possible. You had just spilled all over him, squeezing his cock like a vice and screaming his name, and now he wanted it all over again? So soon?
Your fingernails sunk into his arms as he continued to rut into you, and you started to shake your head.
“C-Can’t Bucky, I can’t, I can’t,” you sobbed, tears still streaming down your cheeks.
“Sure you can.”
Your husband had his mouth at your ear again, panting as the pace of his thrusts grew faster. He tilted his body slightly forward so your legs were pushed even higher above you—damn near grazing either side of your head—and pounded you relentlessly.
His voice seemed so calm and assured as he spoke,
“Cum for daddy. Show me just how fucking good this cock makes you feel and cum again for me.”
With a command like that, how could you refuse?
You came a second time, hands seizing Bucky's forearms, and screams tearing through your chest as you rode your high impaled on his cock over and over again. The sights and sounds and repeated, pulsing spasms of your pussy on his shaft sent Bucky chasing his release not long after, and you felt a warmth spread inside you.
Your eyes were filled to the brim with tears, your cheeks practically drenched already. As you came down from your high, you started to blink.
But just as you lifted a hand to sop up the moisture, Bucky was leaning over you and into you with the brightest smile. Then he was kissing each wet, salty stain like it was the most natural thing in the world, sponging soft and gentle touches all over the spots your tears had overflown.
It seemed every nerve ending in your lower half was on the fritz, your body little more than mush underneath him, but somehow you managed to catch his mouth as he traversed the skin. You kissed him back, and Bucky drew you closer.
The two of you separated for a second, Bucky’s cock still resting comfortably inside you and his broad frame engulfing you in bed. He paused a beat. Seemed to consider something in his mind before speaking aloud.
“Honey,” he started, unsure of how he wanted to say this.
You peered up at him, curious. His seed had filled every contour and crevice of your aching walls and was just then starting to dribble out of you. Bucky seemed unfazed. He cupped both hands around your face.
“I love you.”
You blinked. No fucking way you were hearing those words.
“What?” You felt too awestruck to say anything else.
“I love you,” Bucky repeated. A smile was starting to tug at his lips, his thumb tracing your cheek while you stared at him in disbelief.
You would’ve liked to speak.
Would’ve loved to say those three little words right back.
In fact, you had just opened your mouth to tell him that, when a sound at the foot of the bed startled you both.
The warm glow of moonlight pouring in from the window panes was your only means to see it. But sight wasn’t worth much at all when a man appeared and pressed the barrel of a gun to Bucky’s temple, letting out a chuckle.
Another man, clad head-to-toe in polished black tactical gear approached from the far end of the room. Bucky gritted his teeth but remained motionless, hearing that man cock his firearm as well. You were surrounded on either side of the bed. Your blood ran cold.
“Sorry to interrupt the fun, Mr. Barnes,” the man on the left spoke so low and gruff he could scarcely be heard.
When Bucky started to stir, the man on the right raised his pistol as well. Curled his finger on the trigger.
“We haven’t even met your beautiful bride.” A set of cruel, glinting teeth turned in your direction. Suddenly, all eyes were trained on you—along with a third handgun, pointed at your head, as another man approached.
“Wedded bliss treating you well so far, Mrs. Barnes?”
9K notes · View notes
l0velysmut · 9 days
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family: “why are you just sitting in ur room smiling at ur phone?”
me who’s been reading smut about fictional characters for the past 6 hours:
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8K notes · View notes
buckyownsmylife · 6 months
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Secret Door: the one where the morning after rolls around
President James Buchanan Barnes is the first president to occupy the White House without a first lady ever since… well, President James Buchanan Barnes. But he’s not too worried about it, since he got his best friend from college acting as his VP, supporting him just like only someone who knew everything about him could do. What happens when feelings from the past start to resurface?
Or the one where you and Bucky used to date but now you got a country to run.
for general warnings and author’s notes, please go to the fic’s masterlist.
specific warnings for the chapter: angst, alcohol, alcoholic amnesia, involuntary non-consensual voyeurism, guilt, suicidal feelings, anger, insecurity, tears
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Bucky’s P.O.V.
I’d forgotten how she stole all the blankets.
It was such a small, silly thing, and yet realizing that after all these years, I didn’t remember it anymore got to me. There was a time where I used to boast that I knew everything about the woman lying next to me, and although I liked to think I still did, there was a considerable gap in my knowledge of her history, a gap that was placed there despite me.
I still didn’t know what made her break up with me back then.
Sure, I knew I wasn’t the easiest person to be around. I partied too much, drank my weight in alcohol every night. And not with cheap beer, oh no. It was always expensive shit - the same kind my father used to drink back when he was still alive.
More often than not, I’d wake up without any recollection of the previous evening. But that was okay. Because she was right there to help me, wipe the sweat from my forehead and let me know it was all going to be okay.
She was everything to me, until one day, she wasn’t. And when we first started working together in the world of politics, it was hard not to be resentful. I had done everything for her, back then. I loved her. And she’d just traded me for another person, like I was nothing to her at all.
I remembered seeing them fucking one day, when I went to her place hoping to get her back. The sounds I heard from that bedroom had haunted many sleepless nights, and they still did, even so long after.
I didn’t believe I was truly over what had happened until tonight, when I finally had the chance to have her again. No more memories of jacking off to her and her ex, just me and her, together again, at last.
I reached out blindly to pull her body closer to me, and was surprised to not find anything there. Startled, I sat up quickly, brushing the sleep away from my eyes as I struggled to adjust to the lack of lighting in the room, and that’s when I saw it…
She was trying to sneak out, wearing my hoodie over her dress, her heels dangling from her fingertips as she stared at me in guilt.
It felt like I was going to die.
“Where are you going?” I asked, even though the answer was pretty obvious. Anywhere but here, and although I was a mixture of incredulous, sad and angry, I still couldn’t help but think that she looked so fucking cute wearing my clothes.
“Are you going to leave?” I pressed, sitting up on the bed as I watched her fidget. It hurt more than I cared to admit, the way she avoided my eyes and refused to answer. Getting out of the bed and ignoring my naked state, I was almost gentle in the way that I pressed, “What is it, then? Wasn’t I enough for you? Back then, right now?”
She looked shocked, her wide eyes told me so. I suppose that she didn’t expect me to reopen old wounds, but they felt pretty present to me at that moment. “Did you stop loving me?” The question I always wanted to know escaped me without much difficulty.
I don’t know if I would be able to say the same about the way I would deal with the answer.
“Because I never did.” The hurt was obvious in my voice, and it took a sharp inhale from her to snap me out of the past and back to the present moment, a moment I didn’t even want to be living.
“James, what do you remember of those times?” She surprised me by lowering her shoes, slowly making her way back to the bed, where she sat down next to where I was standing. “The times when you would drink yourself blind, only to wake up in my arms, safe and sound. What do you remember?”
I didn’t know what to say, so I remained silent. “Come here,” she quietly begged, reaching out for my hands until I was sitting next to her in bed, her thumbs rubbing circles on the inside of my wrist.
“You don’t remember. You don’t remember how it ruined me to be the one to pick up the pieces of the man that I loved, night after night. I know you don’t remember, but I’ll never forget.”
“It broke my heart.” The worst part about it was that I knew it to be true. I couldn’t even deny it. “You were becoming your father and it hurt too fucking much.”
“And when you told me what your dream was…” She continued as I stared at her through water-filled eyes. “I knew there was no way you’d get better if I indulged your wild side any longer.”
“You were already so close to losing your scholarship…” She stopped to take a deep breath, before completing, “so I knew the only thing that could possibly speak to you was if you lost me.”
I had no idea. I knew she’d broken up with me because of my ways, of course - it was the reason why I decided to become sober, but I had no idea she had done this sacrifice for me, so I could become the man I needed to become to get this job done.
“You were my origin story,” I laughed through the tears, letting her tug me down so she could rest her head on my shoulder. “You could have talked to me, though.”
“You know what?” She conceded, “I suppose I could.”
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angrythingstarlight · 2 months
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Can see this being roommate!Bucky
https://www.tiktok.com/t/ZPRcGCfkW/
Tell me why I saw a comment that said: I've watched my husband down a whole team just cause they downed me first. He definitely got the gak gak that night. 😂😂
-gif/idea anon
Roommate Bucky is always ready to defend you. And you—you're about to learn firsthand why gamers are notorious for being good with their fingers.
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Pairing: Roommate!Bucky x Reader
WC: 2K
CW: Size kink, Beefy Bucky being absolutely massive, praise, degradation, choking, hand kink, fingering, overstimulation, hint of voyeurism, video game violence.
AN: Written on my phone, unbetad. This isn't based on any game in particular. It's just an excuse to write a little bit o' smut.
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“No. No. Nonononono.” 
YOU’RE DEAD flashes across the screen mocking you as your avatar’s bullet-riddled body fades into the abyss. You slump in the oversized gaming chair, tossing your controller on the desk. Jeers ring in your headset and you rip it off, throwing it next to the controller. She was so pretty. It took you ages to find one you liked and could pair with the cute outfit you picked.
The guys on your team didn’t even give you a chance. Who takes out one of their own? These jackasses apparently.
"You okay?" Heavy footsteps resound behind you. Glancing up, you see your roommate strolling into the living room. Your heart races at the sight of him. He’s gorgeous. No one should look this good.
Deep blue eyes framed by long lashes. Beard neatly trimmed, enhancing his jaw. He's wearing a pair of loose grey sweats that cling to his muscular thighs, long brunet locks, damp from the shower, curl around his nape. No shirt of course.
Your eyes follow a bead of water that rolls down his massive chest and goes into the valley of his ridged abs. It hits the band of his navy blue boxers peeking out from his pants and your mouth goes dry imagining what's hidden under those layers of cotton.
While you’re busy ogling him, he notices the mess you left on his desk and the start over screen on his gaming computer. “What happened, bunny?” 
The reminder of that stupid game has your frustation and anger returning in droves and it overtakes your burgeoning lust. You explain how the guys, his gaming buddies, decided to fuck with you by taking you out in a flurry of friendly fire when they realized Bucky wasn’t in the room. The longer you speak, detailing all the nasty things they said to you, the more his features harden, a muscle ticking away in his clenched jaw.  
“Huh,” he mutters under his breath. Bucky ambles over to the chair and lifts you out of it like you weigh nothing to him, considering what he benches for fun, you know you don’t. He sits down and arranges you over his thick thighs, your back resting against his warm, bare chest. He leans forward, picking up the controller and headset.
 It's not the first time, you've sat on his lap during one of his gaming marathons, Bucky says you help him play better.
“What are you doing?” You ask, canting your head back, his body wash, fresh cedar and vanilla, wafts over you and it takes everything in you not to drop your face into his chest and just inhale him. 
The corner of his lip lifts into a smirk. “You’ll see.” 
Adjusting the headset, he takes the controller in both hands, his corded biceps that are bigger than your head brush against the sides of your breasts.
If he feels the shiver that wracks down your body, he doesn’t comment on it. He never does.
The controller looks so small in his large hands, your gaze follows the veins lining the back of them as his fingers nimbly manipulate the buttons. A rush of heat spreads through you when he rests his chin on your shoulder.
You try to clench your thighs to quell the ache beating between them, but your legs are dangling over his and you can’t.
“I—I’m not.” The lie is obvious even to your ears. He hums noncommittally, but you feel his arms press closer to your body, pushing your tits together. 
You shift on his lap, freezing in place when you feel his chest rise and fall against your back, his deep, knowing laugh rolls across your skin. He teaaes, “don’t tell me you're needy already, bunny?” 
Sometimes you can't tell if he's teasing or not. You asked once and he just grinned like tie answer should be obvious.
“Sure you’re not,” Bucky casually retorts after a man appears on the screen. His guy is more menacing than your avatar, tall and flanked in dark green camouflage, face concealed by a skull mask. Weapons rotate next to him, eventually stopping on a machine gun. Static crackles through his headset and he’s dropped onto a rooftop. “I’m back fuckers.” 
Various greetings trickle through, only to be cut short when it becomes apparent that Bucky is going on a rampage. He storms across the building. Player after player goes down. Some you don’t even see until they fall to their death. 
“Aw c’mon.” 
“Fuck you.” 
“Seriously, what the fuck Barnes–” 
He’s ruthless. Headshots. Stabbing. More headshots. Your already damp panties are drenched when you point out the one that shot you first, and Bucky’s guy stomps the fuck out of Walker6969 before snapping his neck. A slightly undignified giggle slips past your lips when you hear his obnoxious complaint about Bucky not playing fair. Oh. Fucking. Well. More curses filter through his headset as he absolutely decimates the field. 
Bucky tilts his face towards you with a blithe smirk, taking out another player without missing a beat. “I warned you shitstains that you better be nice to my girl.” 
It’s not long before there’s no one left. Bucky tosses the control down, and wraps his arm around your belly, and leans back, taking you with him. “Feel better?” 
“Yeah,” you reply sincerely, both impressed at his skill and pleased that he was so willing to defend you. “Thank you.” 
“You really want to thank me, Bunny?” he whispers in your ear, nipping the lobe with a soft bite. 
Your breath hitches. His hands curve under your knees, placing your legs over the armrests. “I asked you a question,” Bucky states, his tone domineering and dark. 
You struggle to find any answer, but you can’t think with your roommate’s warm hand sliding down your shorts and cupping pussy and all you can do is whimper.
“You’re soaked,” he teases, tracing a finger down the middle of your clothed cunt. His touch is light, so light, but it sends a zap through your clit. “Could feel this hot little pussy throbbing on me. Practically begging for my cock,” Heat fans up the back of your neck and spreads to your face. He could feel that? Before you can drown in embarrassment, he’s kissing his way across your shoulder. ”Need me to get rid of this ache, don’t you?”
You want your roommates hands on you more than anything in this world. You’ve thought about this so many times, you can’t believe it’s happening. His touch feels better than you dreamed. His other hand travels a leisurely, gradual path up your shirt, moving your bra out of the way so he can roll your sensitive nipple between his rough fingers. 
Another slow sweep over your pussy, just skimming your pulsating, swollen clit. It’s not enough. “Please,” you whine out, grinding down over his growing bulge. He’s getting bigger and bigger under you. 
“Please what? Hmm, bunny, please what?” He cruelly taunts, pinching your nipple until your back arches off his chest. “Use your words.” 
You cry out, the spark of pain fades into a heady, warm pleasure. “Touch me.” 
You feel his lips curve into a smile, his teeth scrape over your throat. His thumb presses down your clit and goes still. “I am touching you.” 
This is unbearable.
You’ve never been so wet in your life and he hasn’t done anything. You need him so badly it hurts.
Your pussy clenches down on nothing, you feel so empty.
“Bucky, I need you, need your fingers inside me, please fuck me,” you babble, willing to say anything to get more of him. 
He doesn’t make you wait long. Without warning, he pushes your panties aside and a thick, calloused finger slides inside you. 
“Tight little thing, aren’t you?” he remarks, adding another. Bucky used to everything being small compared to him. You are no exception. He doesn’t give you time to get used to the stretch before he starts scissoring you open, working your hot, wet cunt until he can give you one more finger. Bucky crooks his fingers, and he finds that elusive spot, the one you swore didn’t exist until now. He finds it again. And again. And again. White-hot sensations make you curl in yourself, your thighs trembling. The rough pads of his thick fingers languidly working that sensitive spot as he moves to your other nipple, plucking it into a hard peak.
“That’s your spot huh?” He asks with a cocky rasp. He knows. You told him by the way your moans went all breathy and softy and you started grinding on his cock like a greedy slut being to be filled. Judging by the way he can barely fit three fingers inside you, he knows his cock is going to split you in two. He can’t wait.
“Oh god,” you breathe out, clawing deep marks in the leather under your hands.
The wet schlick schlick schlick of your pussy with every knuckle-deep thrust of his fingers is pornographic.
Right around the second or third time, you clench down around him; he decides he’s going to film you, put your pretty pussy front and center on his flatscreen across from his bed, and make you watch as he fucks you the same way you’re fucking yourself on his fingers, your hips rolling back and forth, grinding your ass over his throbbing cock. Gonna make you watch as you struggle to keep every inch inside you, make you watch him fuck you stupid. 
“Look at you making a mess all over me. Should make you clean it when you’re done. Gonna have you keep my cock warm while I finish the game.” The debauched image of you sitting on his cock while he plays flashes through your mind and a desperate moan builds in your throat, spilling out of your parted lips. “Yeah, you’re going to let me use this sweet cunt any time I want, gonna turn you into my personal fuckdoll.” 
His thumb swipes over your clit, once, twice. Sensations burn through your veins, your body feels so hot and tight, like you’re on the edge of imploding. His hand leaves your nipple and grabs your throat, the sudden pressure makes your head feel light. “Oh god." Right there, fuck he just has to keep doing that, you’re so close, he just has to stay right there. 
It’s like he can read your mind because he does, going harder and harder, giving you everything you need. “C’mon bunny, let me have it, give it to me.” 
“Fuck yesyesyes, don’t stop please don’t–” you sob, the start of your orgasm sparks inside you. 
“Not gonna tell you again, cum for me right the fuck now,” he rasps in your ear, squeezing tightly as he slams into your cunt, his thumb circling your clit faster and faster. His fingers catch your spot again, the pressure so good and so right that it sends you over the edge. Your orgasm barreling over you, wringing pleasure from every nerve in your body, and you gush around him.
“There it is, that’s my girl,” he praises, his words lost over the steady roar in your ears. He fucks you through it, drawing it out, only stopping after your vision blurs and you let out a pathetic noise, somewhere between a whimper and a sob, but you feel too good to care how you sound.
You’re a mess—limbs trembling and weak, still so lightheaded, you can't lift your head, letting it loll lazily over his broad shoulder. He gently takes his fingers out of your pulsating cunt and holds it up, the evidence of your release dripping down to his wrist. He brings his long index finger to his mouth, sucking it dry with a grin. “Damn, you taste good.”
"I–fuck Bucky that was amazing." You grab the armrests and push yourself up.
“Where ya goin’? I didn’t say I was done with you,” Bucky says, his hand loose around your throat as he brings you back down. "I was jus' getting you warmed up."
Oh.
He grinds against your ass, his heavy cock digging into you. He's so big. Despite the fact that you're still on an orgasmic high, you want more. You want Bucky.
“You still gonna thank me Bunny?"
And I—
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Roommate!Bucky has returned!
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bethsvrse · 4 months
Text
me, a writer, at 3am: WHAT? I CANT FIND THE SPECIFIC FANFIC THAT I MADE UP IN MY MIND WITH A WHOLE PLOT AND ORIGINAL CHARACTERS??? WHO DO THEY THINK THEY ARE??? DO THEY EXPECT ME TO WRITE THE STORY I THOUGHT UP OF???
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