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#bucky barnes hot
renova-writes · 9 months
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dating bucky barnes aesthetic
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It's time, you've come a long way Open the blinds, let me see your face You wouldn't be the first renegade To need somebody
renegade, taylor swift
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becca-e-barnes · 8 months
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Ma’am, you are deviously incredible 🔥 We’re begging for an exploration of him saying “I love you” while fucking her like he doesn’t 🥹
My brain keeps picking up the storyline a few splendidly torturous hours in when her body’s completely spent & quivering & she’s a blubbering mess & that’s when he picks her up & takes his sweet time positioning her so she can limply yet eagerly watch their reflection has he finally gives her… exactly what her twitching body’s been craving. 🥵
I'm so glad you all enjoyed the thought of this as much as I did because I've been dying to expand on it 😵‍💫 (Part 1 here)
I like to imagine by that stage, he's absolutely desperate too though. He's got to feel your sweet little pussy clench and flutter around him, contracting so tight every time you cum that he swears it's going to be the end of him.
He's been too hard for too long, buried inside your body and he swears he's never felt you this wet or this hot before. It's been fucking luxurious, forcing you to cum against his fingers, feeling how your body's natural reaction is to coax him to drain his balls into you but that alone isn’t enough. He needs more than that.
He wouldn't admit it to you but he can't take any more. His balls feel like they're fizzing; overfull and beyond ready to flood your waiting, overstimulated body.
He arranges you gently, laying you on your front because he doesn't trust your trembling arms to support you. "That's it, good girl." He coos, hearing you whimper and sob pathetically because he needs to slip out of you to slide a pillow under your hips.
"You've made such a mess." He groans, taking a second to appreciate the delicious, inviting, slick little cunt he's about to indulge in. "You're dripping, sweetheart. God, I just know there's no way I'm going to be able to pull out."
His huge hands are gripping your hips and with one sharp, brutal thrust, he's back inside you and you both sob pathetically at the feeling of your bodies being joined again. This is exactly what you've needed but you don't have the words to tell him that. All you can do is whine and will your body not to cum again so soon.
"I meant. What I said earlier." He punctuates his sentence with soft groans, drawing back until he almost slips out of you before pounding back in.
He leans forward, tilting your chin up, making sure you can see the way he's fucking you in the mirror at the end of the bed.
"I love you. And I don't want you to forget that." He sounds sincere, one hand trailing up from the small of your back to right between your shoulder blades and then back down again. It feels intimate and tender but all that is forgotten by the very next thrust.
"I love you. But for now, you're just a mindless. Little. Drooling. Breedable. Cunt for me." He slows his thrusts down, determined not to cum so soon but it's going to be difficult to last until he gets the first couple of loads out of the way.
"Baby..." You whimper, feeling the tip of his cock nudge against your sweet spot, making you shake from overstimulation.
"I know sweetheart, I know. It's too much. But you're being so good for me. You're so perfect. How have no idea how you feel. So wet and warm and I can feel you fluttering around my cock. It's like you're trying to squeeze every last drop of cum out of me. Is that what you want? Because angel, I'll keep this delicious cunt stuffed full of load after load until I have nothing left to give you."
His thrusts are punishingly fast, thumping against your raised ass, half chasing his orgasm, half holding it back.
"And when I do, I'll remind you just how much I love you. And the baby I'm going to give you tonight."
With that thought, he can't stop himself from cumming, his dick twitching inside you as he shoots thick ropes of his seed right against your cervix. You're so cock-drunk you can only rut yourself millimetres back and forth but that's all you need to send yourself spiralling into another orgasm that leaves you trembling and sobbing.
"Fuck, you want that as much as I do, don't you?" He kisses the back of your neck, breathing you in while letting the euphoric rush subside. He notices he hasn't softened in the slightest despite such an intense orgasm but he knows he needs to be gentle with you for a moment before he can get any rougher.
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underthemexicansun · 2 months
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Just a gif set of Sebastian Stan smiling 🫠
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Legs spread rn lol
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nataliasquote · 16 days
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Midas Touch | n romanoff
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Summary: no amount of money will ever save a broken marriage or a broken woman. But maybe the right person can turn everything she touches into gold and this time won’t be cursed to break everything she cares about.
Warnings: affair, cheating wife, forbidden love, small mention of physical abuse (a slap)
Pairings: maid!Natasha x wife!reader
wc: 7.1k 😬
Note: another AU? Why are we even surprised. But this idea fully goes to @katyaromanoffpetrova who does just fuel my need to write every AU possible. If you thought cowgirl Nat was hot… oh just you wait. Also the end got angsty, but you should learn to expect that with me now..
-⧗-
Being up before the sun wasn’t anything Natasha wasn’t used to. Even before she got this job, mornings were her favourite. The way the world looked when it was kissed by the watery sun that rose above the rooftops hours before anyone was awake to see it was one of life’s hidden gems.
And one of the many perks of being a live-in maid to one of the richest men in the America was the views from every window in the staggering mansion. The west side of the house overlooked the bustling city below, which was beautiful at night. But Natasha’s favourite was the east wing that revealed rolling countryside and the perfect place to watch the sunrise over the distant hills.
Her maid duties never started this early, but she didn’t mind being awake. It gave her a sense of peace before the mania of the day began. She wasn’t the only maid in the Barnes residence, but her task was slightly different than everyone else’s. She was Y/n Barnes’ maid and that in itself came with a whole host of other challenges.
Seven am was when her ‘day’ started, for the lady of the house was not an early riser. She usually wouldn’t be seen out of bed until at least nine, but on the days James left for work early, she would always see him off from the front door. And wherever Y/n was, Natasha was never far behind, lurking in the background with her hands clasped in front.
Y/n’s laugh was the first thing Natasha heard of her boss, before she was even seen. Her voice oozed wealth and that laugh practically dripped honey and diamonds as it echoed through the high ceilings of the stairwell. With her arm draped over her husband’s bicep, Y/n lingered on the last step, teasingly trying to tower over James’ muscular frame as he shrugged his suit jacket on.
He muttered something in her ear and Natasha watched as Y/n’s neutral expression suddenly switched to a cunning smile and her fingers fumbled with the small tie holding her feathered robe closed. The front fell open, revealing her nightwear beneath it and it was not hard to see the way James’ eyes fell to his wife’s cleavage for a couple of seconds.
These small moments cemented why they were the nation’s favourite couple, and also why Vogue was so insistent on featuring them on the cover. They were still so lovesick yet utterly perfect in a way that didn’t happen by chance. This level of perfection was almost nauseating.
Y/n stepped down off the bottom stair and looked up at James through her lashes, playing the innocent game despite being anything but.
“Goodbye, my love. Try not to murder anyone today,” she husked in her husband’s ear, draping her arms around his neck with a lazy smile. James’ hand fell to the small of her back and he pulled her into him, kissing her lips hastily.
“No promises. Be good.” Y/n was on her tip toes but hardly felt the coolness of the stone floor on her bare feet. She leaned her face into Bucky’s palm that had risen up to cup her cheek. Soft fingers straightened out the lapels of his pristine suit jacket almost habitually.
“No promises,” she mimicked with a smirk, her eyes sparkling playful up at her husband who was transfixed by her sultry gaze. She was truly a siren, luring him in with a simple glance and a smile. Her power didn’t come from her social status; it came from her. The kind that couldn’t be earned or bought, no matter how much money you had.
With another lingering kiss, James pulled away and reached for the drawer of car keys and selected from the collection of sports cars most could only fantasise about. His dark grey McLaren Senna was today’s pick and he tossed the key in his palm like it wasn’t part of a car costing close to a million dollars. His wealth really was astonishing.
Y/n watched him disappear out of the heavy iron front doors and pulled her robe tighter around her body, concealing the simple navy blue silk slip dress that hung delicately from her shoulders. Her robe matched in colour, of course, and the feathers adorning the trim and cuffs swayed as she wandered into the vast kitchen.
She was the typical rich housewife, but it didn’t look tacky on her. She suited this life. Her wrists, neck and fingers might as well have been crafted to be decked out in priceless jewels, her body to wear only the finest garments. Even just the way she moved oozed grace and elegance subconsciously. A sight for sore eyes.
“Natasha,” she called, knowing the redhead was only a few steps behind her. “I’d like my breakfast on the balcony today please.”
“Yes ma’am,” Natasha replied with a small nod of her head.
“Oh, and don’t bother bringing any of that apricot jam you brought yesterday. I only want strawberry, darling. Only strawberry.” She swept back out of the room in a flash of blue and Natasha scurried down to the kitchen to inform the chef.
Now, if it was anyone else, that pet name probably would have sent them reeling. But Y/n was extremely fond of using those names, so it was basically second nature to Natasha.
The breakfast tray was laden with food and beverages as Natasha brought it out onto the balcony. Y/n was relaxing in a chair, still in her nightwear and robe as she scowled over the newspaper in her hand.
“You know, I do find these world affairs awfully boring.” Y/n didn’t bother looking up from her newspaper as Natasha appeared with the tray. She frowned at the column she was reading before folding it away on the table. “I don’t suppose you read that kind of thing anyway.”
Natasha carefully set the coffee pot down on the table. “I try to keep up with what’s going on in the world. But not as often as I’d like.”
“Do you read the paper?”
“No, Ma’am.”
Y/n hummed. “You can have this one if you want. I don’t care for it and James only complains about the headlines. You’d make much better use of it, honey.”
“Thank you, Ma’am. I really appreciate it.”
“Natasha stop,” Y/n held her hand up, making Natasha freeze mid pour. “I’ve told you to call me Y/n. All this ‘ma’am is making me feel old!” Y/n sighed dramatically, pushing her sunglasses up into her hair. “I’m not even thirty yet, don’t make me age faster.”
“I’m sorry, Ma-,” she faltered but caught herself quickly, “Y/n, it’s a force of habit.” It wasn’t so much of a habit than it just felt weird to say. This first name basis insinuated they were friends, not two people on drastically different pay grades.
“Well, luckily for you, habits were made to be broken.” There was a heavy intonation in her words, laced with hidden meaning but Natasha just busied herself with setting up the breakfast platter. Various fruits and pastries were laid out, despite Y/n always just picking at a few berries and a croissant. Natasha hung back near the french doors, admiring the scenery so she didn’t watch her boss as she ate.
Y/n slid her sunglasses back onto her nose and stood up to lean over the balcony, the gentle breeze blowing her open robe softly. “Did that package arrive yet? The one from the lingerie company?”
“Yes, it’s in your dressing room.”
“Perfect,” Y/n hummed, her eyes sparkling behind tinted lenses. “I’m going to go try it all on, I think. When you’ve taken the tray, join me, will you?”
Natasha faltered, trying not to look at the outline of her boss’s figure through the thin material of her robe. But with the sun shining through it, it was proving difficult to keep her eyes off the curve of her hips.
“Me?”
“Yes you, Natasha,” Y/n confirmed, smiling to herself. “Who else would I be talking to?”
“My apologises ma’am, I’ll take this right away.”
Y/n didn’t bother correcting Natasha that time, too busy gazing at the rolling landscape beneath her. She found comfort in nature, the way the breeze brushed over her skin and the sun kissed her cheeks making her melt slightly. It differed vastly from the heavy touch of James’ hands, ones she played through a heavy facade to enjoy.
Y/n’s dressing room was that of dreams, just like the rest of her house. But she barely noticed it anymore. Her gaze settled on a white box on the central dresser, smiling to herself. She enjoyed the luxuries of life, and that included lingerie too. She told everyone it was for James, but really it was for her.
She just wanted to feel good for herself.
But those damn feathered sleeves kept getting in the way, so she shrugged her robe off and let it pool on the floor around her feet. She barely noticed the cooler air on her exposed limbs, too busy pulling off the lid and moving the tissue paper aside to reveal the soft coloured lace and mesh, all pastel colours for spring.
Natasha rushed back upstairs as gracefully as she could, passing through the master bedroom to the dressing room at the end. The door was ajar so she knocked three times, as usual, before pushing it open. Her breathing faltered involuntarily.
Was it normal to have that kind of reaction after seeing her boss in nothing but a mini slip dress? There was so much skin and Natasha took a second to gather her thoughts before she announced her presence, keeping her eyes firmly away from the woman in front of her.
“Natasha I want your opinions on these, come here.” The redhead obeyed and joined her side, eyes widening at the items before her. “What do you think?”
This kind of underwear was probably worth Natasha’s entire salary and she was apprehensive to touch it. Her hands stayed by her sides but she tried look objectively, even if she could barely tell the difference between the sets.
“I like that one the best,” she murmured, pointing slightly to a soft pastel blue set. Y/n smiled and plucked it from the box, holding it in front of her.
“Me too, you’ve got good taste.” Y/n slipped one strap of her nightdress from her shoulder and Natasha immediately turned around, almost squeaking at the lack of warning. “You didn’t have to do that, it’s nothing you haven’t seen before.”
Except it was. Because this wasn’t just any woman’s body, it was her mistress’s and there was no way she would ever be able to erase the images burned in her mind.
“I’ll just,” she started, trying to fill the silence by picking up the discarded robe and hanging it on a hook to her right. She caught Y/n fiddling with the bra clasp on her back, the hooks not quite fitting together.
“I hate new clasps,” Y/n exclaimed through gritted teeth, the hooks slipping once again. “Natasha, would you-?”
‘Don’t look don’t look don’t look’ was all that ran through Natasha’s mind as she carefully fastened the bra. She ignored the way her fingertips brushed Y/n’s skin, this wasn’t the first time. She was her maid, for gods sake. But Y/n was usually adamant that she could get dressed by herself, so Natasha rarely found herself around her mistress in just her underwear.
With a muttered thank you, Y/n wandered over to the mirror, adjusting the way her boobs sat in the cups before admiring the set. It was perfect for spring, the baby blue mesh and complimenting white and yellow flowers sitting flush against her tanned skin. The way the material hugged her body rivalled that of a custom made piece and Y/n hummed, content with what she saw in the mirror.
“It looks- beautiful,” Natasha faltered, keeping her composure as best she could. “James will love it.”
Y/n chuckled in the mirror, her hair shaking across her back as she laughed. “You really believe I care what he thinks?”
Natasha’s brows creased. Was that not why Y/n had those underwear sets in the first place? The redhead was empathetic but she didn’t have a significant other, there was no time for that. So her judgement was skewed, and it showed.
“I thought-“
“That’s cute.”
Natasha stuttered. “I’m sorry?”
“You,” Y/n locked eyes with her in the mirror. “You’re cute. James doesn’t care about this kind of stuff, it’s all for me, darling.” She adjusted the strap of her bra and didn’t miss the way Natasha’s eyes followed her fingers. “And now you, I suppose?”
“No, I wasn’t-“
Y/n swivelled round, hands on her hips. “I’m teasing you, darling, don’t worry that pretty little head of yours. Frown lines don’t look good on you.” She reached up and softly brushed her thumb between Natasha’s eyebrows, smoothing out the creases that had formed there. The redhead visibly freezed under her touch, the feeling lingering long after her fingers were removed.
“You’re a beautiful girl, Natasha. Who’s the lucky man in your life? Or lady?” Y/n’s eyes shifted, forgetting that she was still in her lingerie set. Natasha breathed out a laugh and darted her gaze to the floor, offering Y/n her robe again.
“I don’t have anyone,” she admitted, missing the look that crossed Y/n’s face. “I spend all my time here, I don’t need anyone.”
“Then I’m honoured to be the lucky lady. And lucky I am.” There was something so alluring about Natasha that Y/n had been hooked on since she laid eyes on her new maid a few months ago. Reserved at first, Natasha was exactly what Y/n needed after years of overbearing and intrusive maids. Natasha was a similar age and felt more like a friend than a maid.
With a confident air about her, Y/n tried on the rest of the lingerie, placing the ones she disliked back in the box with a sigh. Sticking with the blue theme, she slipped on a blue and white sundress, clasped a tennis bracelet around her wrist, slotted her sunglasses into her freshly combed hair and waltzed back onto the balcony. Natasha stayed behind, fumbling with the ribbon around the box before she handed it to the doorman who would organise the return.
The days when James was at work were usually slow and Natasha had some time for herself for a couple of hours whilst Y/n was occupied. Natasha took herself into the city in the late afternoon and ended up in the one store she had never set foot in before.
The lingerie store.
It was a privately owned boutique, of course it was, this neighbourhood didn’t do chain branches, and she quickly walked past the more provocative sets towards the tables at the back. A friendly store worker greeted her but Natasha just kept her head down, politely shaking it when asked if she wanted help.
She was out of her comfort zone, and painfully so, picking up a risky looking set before setting it down a little too quickly. A simple red lace bra caught her eye and she picked it up, only to glance at the price tag and lay it down gently. How could something like that cost so much? Natasha had seen heavier price tags than that of course, she spent her days around Y/n Barnes for god’s sake. But when shopping for herself, everything just seemed too expensive and far too lavish for a plain girl like her.
Natasha was anything but plain, yet she would never see it.
As she looked around the rest of the shop, her mind kept falling back to the red set. It was burned into her mind no matter how many other pieces she saw, and somehow Natasha found herself back at that table again, fingers fumbling over the delicate lace design.
She picked it up, a soft blushing rising to her cheeks at the thought of wearing something so… out there. But the phone in her pocket buzzed and she quickly grabbed it.
Mrs Barnes:
James has set up a date night. I need your help please :)
The red lace set was long forgotten, her mind shifting into work mode in an instant.
Just leaving now. I’ll be there.
When she returned, Natasha headed straight upstairs to find Y/n just leaving the bathroom. Her hair was still dripping and her skin damp, shining in the warm light of her dressing room.
Natasha got to work, drying and styling her hair almost on instinct, having done it so many times. Y/n thoroughly relaxed, adoring the way Natasha felt as she worked through her hair. She softly tugged her roots, but not enough to hurt. Just so it felt like a massage and her eyelids threatened to get heavy.
Date night outfits ranged from lavish to simple, and tonight was a simple night. A little black dress with a deceitful price tag was selected from the closet, a fan favourite of Y/n. She wriggled into the tight material, loving the way it hugged every part of her body as she pulled it up over her chest and slipped the thin straps over her shoulders.
“Where did you go today?” Y/n asked as Natasha zipped up the back of her dress, holding the fabric tight.
“Mostly just window shopping.”
At the mention of shopping, Y/n’s ears pricked up. She wasn’t just making conversation- she was invested. “Did you get anything nice?”
“Not really. Saw a couple of things but-“
“You know you can always take my card if you see something you like,” Y/n insisted, smoothing her hands down the front of her dress to straighten it out. “What store did you visit?”
“It wasn’t anything special.” Y/n shot her an unimpressed look over her shoulder. “I went to the lingerie boutique-“
“No you did not,” Y/n exclaimed, her jaw dropping in excitement as she turned around, clothes long forgotten. “And you didn’t get anything? Oh darling no, we are taking you back there tomorrow and getting you sorted out.”
Natasha moved over to the heels cupboard and selected a classic pair of black patent stilettos. She placed them in front of Y/n for her to slide her feet into, holding onto her hand for support.
“You’ve got that photoshoot tomorrow, so no, we won’t have time.”
Y/n paused, her dangling earring paused in mid air. “And you think they won’t reschedule if I ask them to?” Her brow raised in a ‘try me’ fashion.
“Y/n,” Natasha began to protest. “You don’t need to do that. It’s not like I need anything fancy like you anyway, it’s useless…” she trailed off, a pang in her chest triggering a wave of doubt to shudder down her body. “Vanity Faire won’t be too impressed if you cancel on them again.”
“If they want me, they’re going to have to work around it,” Y/n countered, silencing Natasha as she stalked over, slightly taller than the redhead thanks to her heels. “You are beautiful and you deserve to treat yourself like that. Everyone does, even James and he’s an asshole sometimes. So take this,” she reached into her bra and pulled out her black card, smirking at how Natasha’s brows shot up. “Take this and spoil yourself. I mean it, okay?”
“Thank you ma’am, I’m-“ Y/n almost plucked the card back out of her hand. “Y/n, thank you. You’re too kind to me.”
“Oh stop it, my ego is big enough already.”
The dressing room door flew open to reveal James, narrowed eyes as he stared at the proximity between the two women. Natasha took a couple of steps back but Y/n stayed put, clasping a bracelet around her wrist nonchalantly.
“Y/n, get out here,” he demanded, never one to speak any clearer than he had to. His wife rolled her eyes at Natasha but obeyed, sending her one final look over her shoulder before the door swung shut.
Now they were alone, James grabbed her wrist and shoved her against the wall, towering over her in the only way he knew how to display his power. The power he held over his wife, power that meant he could crush with a single fist if he wanted to.
“James,” Y/n grunted, wincing as his fingers dug into the tender flesh around her wrist. “What is wrong with you?”
“Flirting with the maids now, huh?” He growled, thick brows casting a shadow across his eyes menacingly. “I fire one, you move onto the next, is that how it is?”
“And what if I was?” Y/n baited, not flinching as his body trapped her between the wall and his torso. “Are you threatened? By that cute little thing in there?” She nodded her head in the direction of the dressing room where Natasha was before James gripped her jaw and pulled her face back to his.
“Don’t you dare.” But she did dare. She wasn’t sadistic, but the smile that curled the edge of her lips was downright crazy. But she knew how James was; they fought fire with fire, too stubborn to ever back down.
“Careful, James. Marks, remember?” His grip softened lightly. “Wouldn’t want the paps to spin a story now, would we?”
She saw how he wanted to retaliate, but also knew that she was right. He leaned closer before pulling away, huffing through his nose. “You’re so fucking lucky I love you,” he hissed before he let go of her jaw and allowed her to walk away. His job didn’t help his violent side but James had vowed since day one that he would never harm his wife. Y/n knew it too, and she pushed him to the very edge. Just daring him to.
“Weird way of showing it, but ok,” Y/n mumbled under her breath as she pushed the door closed and took a breath. Natasha averted her eyes, suddenly so busy with a hanger that had been placed backwards. Did she put it there on purpose? That’s not for anyone to know.
She’d seen the strained moments between the husband and wife but often kept her head down, not wanting to fall under James’ wrath. If she was invisible, it was better, but that was easier said than done with Natasha.
Y/n finished clasping her last few pieces of jewellery before accepting her fur shroud from Natasha. The redhead didn’t let on that she had heard every word said next door, but Y/n knew by the way she avoided eye contact that she had.
“You can have the night to yourself, darling,” Y/n winked, checking over her outfit in the mirror beside Natasha. “And you better buy yourself that set.” She gestured to the card in her maid’s pocket, insisting she used it. “I want proof that you did.”
“Thank you, really.”
Y/n blew an air kiss and disappeared to meet James, leaving Natasha once again alone. She felt the weight of the card in her pocket, seeming to grow heavier the more she thought about it. Y/n meant well, but could she really buy something like that with her mistress’ money?
Whilst Natasha debated with herself, Y/n had put on her ‘public’ face. The one that showed she was so madly in love with her husband, clinging onto his bicep as they moved from the car to the restaurant lobby. Paparazzi followed their every move, of course, and James’ bodyguard ushered the couple into the building as fast as he could.
Most celebrities hated the paps with a passion, but James loved them. He loved how much he manipulated them, and they snapped up pictures of the married couple like there was a drought. There was no doubt those pictures would be spattered across gossip sites by tomorrow morning, but that was only more free publicity for him. James Barnes never lost.
However, despite the perfect image they had carefully constructed, more often than not, date nights with James ended alone. He would excuse himself for a phone call just as the food arrived and Y/n could always see him in a private area of the balcony, phone pressed to his ear whilst his other hand pinched the bridge of his nose. Y/n picked at her food in silence, washing every mouthful down with a sip of wine. She ignored the stares and whispers and just played her role to perfection, often sending worried glances out to James.
Tonight she had struck up a harmless conversation with one of the waiters, a young man with a far too eager smile. But she tolerated him for company, politely laughing as he tried to crack an admittedly horrible joke. He was surprisingly good company for the thirty minutes her husband had disappeared for. Although it didn’t help with how sad her situation looked. Y/n was nothing if not flirty, it was in her nature. The way she crossed her legs and looked up through her lashes with a sultry stare had every man, and woman, hooked.
Her siren tendencies didn’t end with her husband, and the waiter hovering by her table was drinking up the attention. It was a big deal for him, one of the hottest women giving up her time to talk to him. He was far too young for her, but Y/n humoured his attempts at flirting, twisting her shoulders so he had a good view from where he was standing. There was a fine line between hot and just plain sleazy, but Y/n would never cross it. She was too good at toying with people.
After a while, James came storming back in, his eyes darkening not only from the outcome of his phone call but also after seeing his wife laughing over another man. His judgement was clouded by anger and he grabbed his jacket, not even bothering to take a bite of his now-cold food. Y/n jumped at his sudden movements but smiled sweetly, thanking the waiter who had stiffened.
“Let’s go,” James growled, throwing down a wad of cash as a tip before storming towards the elevator. Y/n took a moment to gather her things before scurrying after him, her red bottomed shoes clicking loudly against the pristine floor.
“Is everything ok?” She dared to ask once the doors had closed. James looked up briefly, eyed the security camera and clenched his jaw, the muscles in his neck shifting too.
“I work with imbeciles,” he grunted, his hand undoing the top button of his shirt in one fluid motion. “How was the food?”
“It was good,” Y/n stated, slightly wishing she could have finished her glass of wine.
“Good? I pay all this money and that’s the best you can do?” Bad phone calls always sent him into this mood, but Y/n had been with him long enough to know how to tame the tiger.
She stepped in front of him and ran her hands up the front of his sculpted chest, brushing over the muscle and up towards his shoulders. “It would have been better if you were there,” she spoke lowly, her hand sliding up to brush the stubble on his jaw.
James slid his hands around her waist possessively, pulling her flush against him. Anyone could walk in, the elevator wasn’t private, but they wouldn’t dare say anything to James Barnes. No one who confronted him ever walked away unharmed.
“Yeah? Even though you had your new little boy toy?” Oh he was jealous and Y/n had to tense every muscle in her body so she didn’t laugh. “I saw you.”
“You really think he had anything on you?” She asked sweetly, playing him just the way she knew. “I was just bored, baby, I missed you.”
“Damn right. I hope that fuckboy knows you’re mine, and mine only.”
“I’m yours, James, I’m yours.”
She was James’, so why did her mind drift to Natasha for a fleeting moment as she said it?
~~~
Y/n had dismissed Natasha for the night earlier than normal, letting her have the evening to herself before they went out. And she praised herself now, knowing James’ rage was just bottled up and sooner or later it would come out. She didn’t want her meek little redhead to have to see that.
And she was right. Whatever James had been feeling, he held it in until they were both nearly ready for bed. Y/n slid her rings off and placed them in the dish on her nightstand, each one clinking against the porcelain as she dropped it.
“What did you talk to him about?”
Y/n paused her movements for a second. “You’re still going on about that? I told you, it was just harmless conversation.”
“It didn’t look harmless, the way you were looking at him.”
Y/n was quite literally at the end of her tether with his accusations. “And how was that? How did I look at him?”
James rounded the bed, the single chain resting on his bare chest catching in the lamplight. “Like a slut.” His eye twitched, a sign he was pissed. “How do you think that looks for me? I step away for two seconds and my wife is whoring herself out to anyone she can find.”
“I find it laughable that you think you were away for two seconds,” she countered, stepping to the side to free herself from where he’d boxed her in. “May I remind you that I had finished my meal long before you even stepped foot back inside. He just came to talk to me and I engaged with the conversation, is that so bad?”
“Don’t use that tone with me,” James spat, his eyes following her figure as she paced around the room. “You shouldn’t-“
“Shouldn’t what? Shouldn’t talk? That’s what you’ve always wanted, isn’t it? A quiet little wife who only speaks when she’s spoken to and follows you around like a lost puppy.” James set his jaw, hands clenching by his sides. But Y/n carried on, spurred on by his accusations. “Well that’s not me James, and you know that!”
She paused and ran her fingers through her hair, exasperated. “How do you think it looks on you? You bring your wife out on a date but then can’t switch off from work for two minutes to actually enjoy your time with her! I’m saving your ass here, so be fucking grateful!”
That last sentence pushed him over the edge and James stormed over to her like a bull, backing her into a corner. “Grateful? Why should I be grateful? You’re a slut and-“
“Then treat me better and maybe I wouldn’t have to stray so far!”
James’ hand had connected with her cheek faster than either of them had time to process, his rings cutting into her skin painfully. They both froze. Y/n’s breath caught in her throat, the sting of the slap blooming across her cheekbone. James was breathing hard, his hand still raised from the recoil.
An apology would come… wouldn’t it? It had to, he didn’t mean that. Y/n couldn’t move, it was like the air had been sucked out of the room. Her stomach lurched, just urging James to say something. Anything.
A whole host of scenarios of how the next few moments might play out raced through Y/n’s mind, but she didn’t foresee her husband walking out without a word, a button up shirt in his hand.
She watched the door click shut before she sank to the floor, legs buckling beneath her. She didn’t want to cry, he wasn’t worth that, yet the tears still fell, dripping down into the carpet that pressed into her knees. It wasn’t from the pain, but from how stupid she felt.
Why was she still pretending? She played off everything he said to her, claiming it didn’t hurt when in reality it cut deep like a knife. Beneath her defences, she just wanted someone to care and not just because she was pretty. She wanted the slow mornings, the affection that wasn’t just for show. The ‘hey how was your day’ that wasn’t just one sided. But Y/n had sacrificed all of that the day she married James, naive enough to think he’d warm up over time.
The house felt eerily quiet and the blanket of night settled across every room. Ignoring how the clock chimed two, Y/n hauled herself up off the floor and trudged down to the kitchen, barely noticing the icy floor on her bare feet.
The freezer must hold ice packs or something similar, anything to stop bruising and swelling that always leads to questions. Y/n didn’t even bother to check if anyone was around before she pulled the door open and rummaged around, falling upon a bag of frozen peas. Not ideal, but it would do.
Except for the hum of appliances, the kitchen was silent and shadows appeared as the dim fridge light cast a small pool around her. No one was here at this hour, so Y/n dropped her guard and slumped her shoulders, leaning against the side of the fridge with exhaustion.
But she wasn’t alone.
A certain redhead had frozen in place, her spoonful of ice cream hovering somewhere between the pint and her mouth. Natasha was a midnight snacker and her feasts were usually undisturbed, but the sound of footsteps had her retreating into a corner.
It was only when she saw that familiar curtain of hair did she emerge, slowly, as if approaching a small animal, to not scare her off.
“Y/n?” Natasha emerged from the shadows, spoon still in her hand. Y/n did a double take but kept her face turned away, forcing her guard up in a split second.
But it was too slow for Natasha. She saw the vulnerability
“What are you doing down here?”
“I came to get a snack,” she replied with as much conviction as a toddler. Green eyes fell to the bag of peas… interesting snack choice.
“Why didn’t you call for me? I would have come myself.”
“It’s the middle of the night, Natasha.”
“Which is exactly my point, why aren’t you asleep-“
Y/n suddenly emerged from the corner and allowed the fridge light to hit her cheek. Natasha recoiled with a gasp, blinking quickly to wake her brain up. Was she hallucinating or was that what she thought it was? Y/n’s eyes were heavy and looked at the floor, too ashamed to watch Natasha’s reaction
“Did he…?”
The lack of response that followed was louder than a thousand words and Natasha felt her blood boil. She would happily be put away for battery if it meant she could get her hands on James, but she had more pressing matters to attend to.
Abandoning her spoon on the metal table with a clatter, Natasha hurried over and prised the bag of vegetables from Y/n’s hand. She wrapped them in a towel and gently pressed them to her cheek, muttering an apology as her mistress winced.
“What happened?”
Y/n chewed her lip, still avoiding eye contact. “Nothing. I don’t want to talk about it.”
Natasha nodded. “Ok,” she replied, respecting her wishes. You couldn’t push with Y/n, she had to come to you. “Here, sit up on there.” She helped Y/n hop onto the counter and her body instantly relaxed.
A comfortable silence fell between them both, somehow not affected by Y/n’s reluctance to talk. They never needed words, that’s what Y/n liked about Natasha so much. She was a comforting presence, and Y/n felt so at home around her.
With their faces so close, Y/n felt her chest warming at things she’d never noticed before. There were flecks of brown in Natasha’s clear green eyes, almost mirroring the freckles that danced faintly across her nose. The frown lines she had wiped away earlier were back and Y/n fought the urge to brush them away again.
After ten minutes, Natasha set the ice pack down on the side and helped Y/n down, the stone now digging into her butt uncomfortably. “Just let it rest for a bit before you ice it again. You don’t want to damage the skin.”
Y/n nodded, her face already numb. Their proximity was close but neither made an attempt to move. Natasha couldn’t keep her eyes off how red her cheek looked and Y/n desperately needed something to shut up the voices in her head.
Her eyes dropped down to Natasha’s lips, wanting to cry with how soft they looked. How gentle they’d feel on her skin, a stark contrast to the rough lips she was used to feeling dragging across her collarbones and neck. Natasha was soft and Y/n felt herself craving it.
“No, Y/n no.” Lost in her head, she’d failed to notice Natasha catching on, almost reading her mind. And as much as the redhead would love to reciprocate, it was inappropriate and not just because of her job.
Y/n leaned forwards, eyes glossy. “Please, Natasha-“
“You’re hurting, I won’t-“ Natasha shook her head, taking Y/n’s trembling hand in her own. She could make a pretty educated guess as to what had happened and did not want to be a part of Y/n’s inevitable. She pushed her own feelings down, stuffing them in a box and cramming the lid on tight.
But Y/n never made her life easy. She gripped Natasha’s hand, pulling it into her. “Please?”
“No, we can’t, you know that. And you’re my boss, Y/n-“
“Nat, I- I want you. I’ve never been so sure of anything in my life.”
The redhead faltered, watching the way her mistress’s chest heaved. Her head screamed at her to stop; it was so wrong. She couldn’t avoid the way her cheek burned red in the dim light, a stark contrast to the rest of her pale face. Never had she seen this much vulnerability in the woman who was full of wit and confidence.
The strength she was so used to seeing had completely disappeared and Y/n peered at her with tears on her waterline, her facade crumbling away with every second that ticked by.
Those seconds felt like an eternity before Natasha slowly reached her hand up.
But it was too soon.
Y/n flinched away, a tear escaping as she let out a whimper. Natasha quickly retreated her hand and let the woman before her turn back, not wanting to push her in any way.
“You’re safe,” Natasha whispered. Y/n’s eyes searched hers, trying to find any sign of a lie. But she came up empty. With a trembling hand, she reached for Natasha’s palm and allowed it to cup her other cheek. The touch was soft, warm, and everything she wasn’t used to. Even on instinct, Y/n couldn’t help but lean into it, eyelids fluttering closed for a split second before she forced them open.
“I’ve got you.”
Y/n glanced at Natasha’s lips and back up to her eyes. She needed to feel that warmth, she needed to kiss lips that didn’t curse her all day long.
“Natasha…”
The redhead couldn’t stop herself anymore and let Y/n lean forwards, connecting their lips in the most gentle kiss. Y/n tasted the sweet dessert on her lips as they moved against each other slowly, the hand on her cheek moving around to the back of her neck to hold her in place.
“Did you have ice cream?” Y/n mumbled against her lips, goosebumps lighting up her skin at Natasha’s touch.
“Maybe.”
The kiss wasn’t anything frantic or passionate, it couldn’t be. It was so featherlight that their lips barely touched, but the way Natasha’s blood felt like it was on fire was enough to convince her that they did touch. She let Y/n lead, moving their lips in tandem and fiddling with the baby hairs at the nape of her neck.
Y/n pulled away, a soft smile on her slightly swollen lips setting Natasha’s heart a flutter. The ache in her cheek was hardly noticeable in that moment; she was too fixated on the redhead in front of her.
She leaned in again, chasing that high she wasn’t ready to come down from yet. But Natasha gently pushed her back, shaking her head softly.
“Y/n, we can’t. We shouldn’t be doing this, you know that.” Y/n’s coping mechanisms were unhealthy to say the least, and as much as it pained her, Natasha couldn’t support that. Clarity had hit her like a ton of bricks and guilt settled in the bottom of her stomach, leaving a nasty taste in her mouth.
What were they doing?
Natasha’s heart shattered as she watched Y/n retreat into herself, her bottom lip pulled between her teeth slightly. Her eyes were glossy but the tears refused to spill over. Every muscle in her body was rigid, almost as if she was scared that if she moved, the dam would break and everything would come flooding out. Y/n may be good at a lot of things, but emotional confrontation was not one of those things.
“I know, I’m sorry.” She lingered for a moment, just willing Natasha to speak, to take back her words. Maybe if she closed her eyes, those lips would be on hers again. Their Midas touch, concealing the ache in her heart for a few fleeting moments was all she wanted.
But when Natasha stayed silent, Y/n turned and left, leaving the makeshift ice pack abandoned on the side. She couldn’t stay and let herself fall apart anymore. Her heart had broken twice that night, but why did it hurt so much worse now? Why did Natasha, her maid, have a stronger grip on it than her husband?
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daliaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa · 9 months
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What a beautiful necklace.
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navybrat817 · 11 months
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The Animal Within
Pairing: Shifter!Bucky Barnes x Shifter!Female Reader Summary: Bucky can't help but follow you when you go through his territory. Word Count: Over 2.2k Warnings: Shifters, flirting, background character death, mention of blood, slight possessive behavior, Bucky Barnes (he's a warning, okay?). A/N: Meet Wolfie and Little Red! My fourth and final Connect 4 (C4007 - Square 4) / Into an Alternate Juneiverse AND Week 2 of Hot Bucky Summer for @buckybarnesevents! Theme - What should I call you? ❤️ Beta read by @whisperlullaby (thank you!), but any and all mistakes are my own. Divider by @firefly-graphics and thanks to @targaryenvampireslayer and @buckets-and-trees for the encouragement! ❤️Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog for new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!
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When Bucky was a child, the townspeople warned him not to venture too far into the woods. Dangerous creatures lurked in the shadows and many who strayed far from the beaten path never came back. What they didn't know was that he often did that very thing since he could walk. The townspeople had no reason to fear for him. While they were right that the forest held many dangers, it was also a place of kinship and wonder. He found solace in the trees.
Because even predators had soft sides.
Which was one of the reasons he started tracking you.
Who are you?
Bucky knew every creature in his territory, but hadn’t seen you before. You were stunning and quick as you wove in and out of the trees, a blur of red amongst the green and brown background. You stopped at one point to smell some flowers, as if you didn’t have a care in the world. Something about your scent excited him like nothing else, tempting him to chase you down. He refrained from doing so and maintained a safe distance as he followed, not wanting to spook you. He should’ve alerted Steve and the others the deeper you went into the woods, but he wanted to keep you to himself for now.
As if you were his.
Steve would likely ask him later why he decided to follow you in the first place. The easy answer was that this wasn't your home and he wanted to know why you decided to go through this part of the forest. It also concerned him a bit that you were by yourself. While he had his found family, he wondered why wasn’t someone by your side? Was it by choice?
Why are you all alone out here, little red?
The air was cool in this part of the forest, even with the sun shining through the branches, but it didn't seem to bother you as you stopped to play with a rock. Bucky crouched between two trees, careful not to draw attention to himself as he curiously watched. You were smaller than him and appeared far too sweet for your own good. It was strange how he felt the need to protect you and snarl that you needed to stay alert. You were all alone and anyone could come along and just eat you up.
A snap of a twig drew his attention, lowering his body more when another scent drifted through the air. You, on the other hand, were perfectly content in your own little world. Either you didn't sense the foreboding atmosphere shift or you didn't care.
Why aren't you paying attention?!
Bucky bit back a growl when he spotted the large man coming from the opposite direction, almost blending in with the background as he watched you. The fur on the back of his neck stood up straight when he saw the arrow aimed in your direction. The man had every intention of killing you. It was a cruel way to die, especially when all you were doing was playing in the woods.
Now I have to save you.
As the hunter released his arrow, you surprised both of them by suddenly leaping toward the nearest tree and narrowly avoided getting hurt. You didn’t look down as you climbed up the bark and walked across one of the large branches with more agility than he expected, your eyes on the hunter as he reached for another arrow. You must have sensed him if you were able to dodge his weapon like that. If Bucky didn’t know any better, he would’ve thought you were laughing or playing a game.
No time to play around, little red. You can't stay up there all day.
You must have known that, too, since you leapt from the high height and onto the man below.
With a small scream, you tackled the hunter to the ground. He tried to toss you away, but he didn't stand a chance when you bit into his neck. Bucky didn't expect such ruthlessness from you, but he understood why you attacked since the hunter intended to kill you. And while he didn't normally hunt without giving chase, the tear of flesh and tissue from the man's throat urged the beast inside him to join you. He had to help as you were smaller and could still get hurt.
Pack mentality. Nothing more, right?
Bucky jumped through the trees and charged at the man lying in the dirt. He was still conscious enough to throw an arm up to try and defend himself, but it only led to the wolf chomping down and crunching the bone. He relented after a moment, only to join you in biting his neck. Blood hit his white fur and dripped onto the soil, staining the earth and adding the hunter to the long list of fallen souls in the shadows.
Should've stuck to the beaten path.
You snapped your head up at the sound of his snarl, licking some of the blood from around your mouth as you assessed him. You seemingly forgot about the lifeless hunter as you slowly backed away. Bucky didn't approach you and he wasn't your enemy, but refused to lower his head in submission as you hunched your back. He was almost impressed at the fearless flash in your eyes.
You won't win a fight against me.
Your body collided with his a second later, a firm reminder of your speed even though he was stronger. You didn't claw or bite as the two of you rolled away from the body, but you screamed again. Maybe you wanted to warn him that you weren't a creature to mess with. Or maybe you knew he followed you and wanted to retaliate.
It was for your own good.
Bucky got on top of you as you came to a stop. With a small growl and raise of his lips, he went for your throat. He would've bitten through your neck, but he didn't since his intention wasn't to kill you. He wouldn't let you do any damage to him either. The clench of his jaw was a warning of what he could do if you didn't submit and the hold was enough to make you go lax beneath him with a small sound. And it was the pounding of your heart against his fur that made him loosen his hold.
It's okay, little red.
He let go completely at the sound of snapping and shifting bones beneath him. He knew those noises all too well. The shrill shriek you let out faded to a groan as your body stretched, the red fur disappearing into your skin. Your eyes were still glowing as you completed the transformation from a fox to a human.
A beautiful, naked human.
Though the townspeople feared the woods and knew monsters existed, not everyone believed the myth that shifters roamed the land. But here you were, living proof just like him. Maybe that was why your scent called to him, a mixture of something wild and grounding. It was only right that he changed back into his human form, too. It didn't mean he'd give you the satisfaction of moving away while he shifted back, his bones molding and skin stretching with a grunt. His hair fell in his blue eyes as he exhaled, his breathing harsh as he realized just how close your bodies were.
And that he could smell your arousal.
"You know I didn't need you to save me, right, wolfie?" you smiled, bringing a hand to his cheek. He bristled, but not because it didn't feel nice. It was because you touched him without hesitation. "I had it under control."
Wolfie?
"I think you did need my help," he couldn't help but say. While you were a predator, you weren't as dangerous as him. Your touch was too soft. "You should be thanking me."
"Thank you for not minding your own business."
"It is my business when you're in my territory," he reminded you, placing his hands on each side of your head as he stared down at you. The intimidating look didn't make you cower. It made you smile.
Why aren't you afraid of me?
"I guess so," you said, stretching a little and drawing his attention to your neck. It would look beautiful with his mark on it.
No. I'm not thinking about claiming this beautiful, sly stranger.
"You guess so?"
"Okay, it is your business," you huffed softly. "That man killed a lot of defenseless creatures in the west end of the forest, so I lured him here. And if he didn't take me as bait, I figured a wolf would either scare him off or kill him."
Cunning and smart.
"So you did need my help," he smirked.
"I attacked him just fine without you."
True.
"But if you hadn't, you would've had to rely on me."
"Yes, I would have. Because you're so biiiiig and so strooooong and I'm sooooo helpless," you teased, raising an eyebrow when you purposely lifted your hips to touch his. "Well, you really are big."
His eyes slipped shut, but it didn't stop the blood from flowing south. You were so warm and soft. If he spread your legs a bit more and sheathed himself, he wondered just how tight and hot you'd feel around him. Would you cry out for him or whimper?
"You're also smelly and hairy like a dog," you added.
With a growl, his eyes flew open. Instead of showing fear, you laughed. He was so thrown off by the sound that you were able to use your strength to roll him on his back. The sight of you above him, your breasts lightly bouncing from another laugh, was one he'd later dream about.
"You know the thing about foxes? People always underestimate us," you said with a smile. "Because we're smaller than wolves and so cute. We look almost innocent."
Bucky laughed this time, the sound deep as he brought his hands to your hips to steady you. No other reason. "I know damned well you’re not innocent at all."
He held his breath as you leaned down, your nipples brushing against his chest. "And how would you know that?" you whispered, your lips so close he could almost kiss you.
The scent of blood and death was only a few feet away, but the tempting smell of your pussy had his mouth watering. He had to keep a level head though. He didn't know you. "No one innocent would rip a throat out like that."
He wondered just how many men you lured to their deaths with your act.
The hunter becomes the hunted.
The playfulness faded from your eyes as you sat up. Had he touched on a sore topic? "Sometimes we have to do those things in order to survive," you said, lifting your weight off of him. "Thank you so much for 'saving' me."
"Wait," he urged as he sat up, not wanting you to go away so quickly. That should've bothered him that he wanted you close by. Everything about his pull to you should have. "That's not a proper thank you."
"And what is?" you asked curiously, your eyes moving along his body as he stood up. He wasn't ashamed of his nakedness. If anything, he liked that you saw some of his scars.
"Helping me get rid of this body," he answered, nodding to the hunter. He'd already have to explain to Steve that he assisted in killing him, but he wasn't at all sorry. "And I need to make sure you get back to the border safely."
You nodded after a moment. "Not the kind of 'thank you' I thought you'd want, but I'll help," you said, briefly looking up at the sky and avoiding his gaze. "Don't worry about taking me back. I can manage just fine getting out of here. I'm used to going it alone."
I don't like that.
"I'd feel better if I went with you," he said.
"Fine," you agreed, gesturing to yourself when a breeze picked up, goosebumps rising on your skin. "Just wish I had my red cape to cover up. Unless you don't mind the view."
He licked his lips when you did a spin, giving him a view of every delicious curve of your body. "I don't mind," he admitted.
Hell, he was still half hard just from having you against him on the ground.
"I like you, wolfie," you smiled.
"That's not my name," he said, even if the little nickname made him want to smile.
"What should I call you?" you asked, brushing a bit of dirt off his right arm.
"Bucky," he replied, gently taking your arm before you could walk away. "What should I call you?"
You smiled as you gave him your name and moved in close again. "You can call me little red if you want," you told him, your breath fanning against his ear. "Let's get to work."
Maybe once you finished burying the body, Bucky would convince you to tell him a bit more about yourself. Because he wasn't ready to let you leave his territory yet. Not when he sensed you had no one to go back to. And he had a feeling you weren't quite ready to leave yet either.
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Surprise, surprise, I love them already. Love and thanks! ❤️
Masterlist ⚓ Bucky Barnes Masterlist ⚓ Ko-Fi
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@animavelita over on tiktok has me all up in my unholy thoughts
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swagcity1738 · 4 months
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sebastian stan at the london premiere of sharper (2023)
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batcavescolony · 2 months
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Reading comics is showing someone a great scene from an amazing comic but having to say 'ok I know it doesn't look like it BUT I promise you they don't usually look like that, ignore the art.'
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renova-writes · 1 year
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you don’t love him
bucky barnes x reader
word count: 702
warnings: cheating, language, implied seggsual activity
a/n: I wanted to write something based on The Way I Loved You by Taylor Swift because I’ve been listening to that song a lot but it ended up not really being like that. idk. I’m just trying to get back into writing but I’ve been too preocupied with having my work be good so I’m trying to write for fun right now before working on my (way more dark/serious) novel ideas. long intro. sorry. enjoy :)
masterlist
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It was a busy day. You were working at a coffee bar downtown. The cold weather and finals for the college students always resulted in nonstop traffic. You were five hours into your eight hour shift and hadn’t gotten a chance to sit down. 
“Bucky?!” you gawked, spilling the coffee you were carrying. You had dated him on and off for a couple years. Then last year, he broke things off officially. You had moved on, found a different guy who you were happy with. 
“Hi, Doll.” He smiled from the counter. He glanced down at your blue employee shirt. It was wet and stained from the coffee. “Something wrong?” 
“No. I’m fine.” You said, walking up to the register. “What do you want, Bucky?” 
“Hey, what’s with the attitude, doll? I just want a large black coffee.” The little prick knew what he was doing. 
“It’ll be $4.95. Name?” 
“From the way you used to scream it, you know my name.” He smirked, handing you a 5. “Keep the change.” 
You blushed, but were secretly thinking that you were going to spit in his coffee. “I have a boyfriend, Bucky.” 
“Sure you do.” He smiled and turned away. 
You didn’t end up spitting in his coffee. That was too mean. Instead you made the three people behind him’s drinks even though he had the simplest order. After twenty minutes, you figured he’d get suspicious so you finally called his name. 
“This is for you, doll,” Bucky winked, handing you a few bills. You looked at them. There was a crisp twenty and an old soft one. On the one, he had written the spot, 7. You stared at those words. 
The spot was technically an alleyway where you two used to meet in Clinton Hill. It was about halfway between your place in Manhattan and Bucky’s place in Brooklyn. You’d meet there whenever you were going out with him. What the spot really was, though, was the cafe down the block that you went to whenever Bucky was more than twenty minutes late. And he was usually late. 
You got off at six that night. You sent a quick text to your boyfriend, telling him that you might be back late, and got on the train to Brooklyn. 
That night you took your time to get there. There was no way Bucky would be there at 7 you thought. He had never been on time once. But lo and behold, standing there at 6:57, three minutes early, was Bucky. He was wearing a leather jacket and held a bouquet of flowers. 
“Hi there, Doll.” He smiled, holding out the bouquet. “I got these for you.” 
“Bucky, I told you, I have a boyfriend. I love him.”
“And yet you came all the way out here to meet me. Doll, I don’t think you really love him.”
“I am. He’s so sweet and respectful. He holds the door open for me, he always keeps his promises, my parents like him- Bucky, you were never any of those things.” 
“I can be. I promise.” 
“You said that last time. And the time before that. And the time before that. Why should this time be any different? And besides, I’m happy.”
“Are you?” He stared into your eyes before pulling you into a kiss. A roller coaster of emotion came rushing to you. You remembered being with Bucky. How you guys would fight and break up, only for one of you to come rushing back to the other’s apartment a few days later. This kiss was just like all the others. It was intoxicating and exhilarating and you wanted more. 
When you woke up in Bucky’s bed the next morning, you weren’t surprised or angry with yourself. Not even the dozens of missed texts and calls from your boyfriend gave you any feeling of regret. Instead, you thought about how the universe kept pulling you back to him, and how you would be a fool to ignore it. You had missed Bucky and the way you loved him. 
“See, Doll. You don’t love him. You belong with me.” 
“I love you, Bucky.” 
“I fucking missed that.” He groaned. “I love you too.”
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stuckyrogersbarnes · 4 months
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buckysbarnes · 1 year
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THE FALCON AND THE WINTER SOLDIER episode four: the whole world is watching
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daliaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa · 8 months
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The low bun, suit and attitude give off a mob boss vibe.
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navybrat817 · 11 months
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Around Your Throat
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Pairing: Vampire Mob!Bucky Barnes x Gifted!Female Reader Summary: Bucky has the perfect accessory to go around your throat. Word Count: 1.9k Warnings: E/xplicit s/exual content, f/ingering, b/iting, p/ossessive behavior, b/lood, feel (it's me), Bucky Barnes (he’s a warning, okay?). Graphic talent and thanks: Banner - @sgt-seabass, Divider - @firefly-graphics , Moodboard - yours truly A/N: Set before Lay Me Down, we're visiting our vampire to kick off Hot Bucky Summer challenge hosted by @buckybarnesevents! Theme - "What should I wear?" ❤️ Not beta read and written on my phone, so any and all mistakes are my own. Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog for new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!
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You stood in front of the full length mirror, a frown on your face as you looked over yourself. The black and gold gown you wore was beautiful, the v-neckline and fitted bodice drawing attention to your chest. Bucky had it designed for you, with your approval. He wanted only the best for his bride-to-be.
The fact that he had a matching suit almost put a smile on your face.
But you couldn’t figure out why you weren’t happy with your look. You thought for a moment that the dress was too much for a dinner, especially since you would be one of the only people at the table eating an actual meal. As Bucky’s future mate and your father’s daughter, however, it was the expectation that you’d look your best.
At least I won't have to create an illusion since I'll be amongst Bucky’s friends for the evening.
“I'm not sure about this,” you told your fiancé since he insisted on being in the room as you got ready, admiring your side profile with a sigh. "Should I change into something else?"
"Why would you change when you look good enough to eat?"
You spun around to face him, your breath catching when he stood from his chair and straightened his tie. He slicked his hair back for the evening and you longed to run your fingers through it to make a mess of it. This man managed to steal your heart and he would be the reason you took your last breath.
He was both your ending and your new beginning.
"Just what every girl wants to hear when she goes to feast with vampires," you teased, turning back to the mirror.
"If you sensed something was wrong, we wouldn't attend," he pointed out. He wouldn't risk your safety. He assured your father of that. "Should I tell Steve to play host while we skip it?"
"No, my love, because nothing is wrong," you assured him. You trusted his friends and the only gut feeling you sensed was that your evening would end happily. You looked forward to it.
"Then what's the matter?" he asked as he crossed the room and placed his hands on your hips. Though you couldn't see his reflection in the mirror, you imagined his blue eyes either darkened or glowed at the sight of you. Both stares always set the blood on fire in your veins. “Do you not like the dress? Should I rip it to shreds?”
“Don’t you dare,” you answered, narrowing your eyes when he chuckled. “I love this dress.”
“If you won’t let me tear this gown from your body, at least let me lift the skirt and bury myself in your pussy again,” he said, making you gasp when his cool lips brushed the shell of your ear. Your core throbbed at the idea, tempted to let him bend you over in front of the mirror as he took you apart. Once he turned you, you wouldn’t see your reflection ever again. “And if you love it, why have you stood here for the last two minutes, spinning and frowning at every angle?”
“As much as I’d love for you to ravage me, I don’t think we have time,” you said, gesturing to yourself. “And something’s missing. I can’t figure out what.”
Bucky hummed, gripping your chin to turn your head toward him. “I can get you off quickly," he said, which was true. "And you're missing an accessory. You need something around your throat.”
“Of course,” you smiled softly. Such a simple solution to a ridiculous problem. “What should I wear?"
He moved his hand to your neck before you could go to the armoire, making you moan when his fingers tightened. “I have something perfect in mind.”
“As much as I love this type of necklace,” you said, wetting your lips with your tongue. “I can’t go the whole meal with your hand around my throat.”
Bucky chuckled again, spinning you and pinning your back against the mirror with lightning speed. You trembled when his eyes began to glow, your blood rushing through your veins at the sight of his fangs. The mix of pain and pleasure whenever they pierced your skin brought you to a euphoric state. It was no wonder some begged to become a blood mistress or paramour.
You were lucky enough that you would belong to Bucky forever.
“And just because I can’t ravage you with my cock right this second doesn’t mean I can go through an entire meal without having a taste,” he whispered, pushing the skirt up so his cold hand could slide up your inner thigh. No tights and no underwear so he could have access to what belonged to him. His rule for the evening. “I need your blood and your cunt so I can behave myself."
“You better satisfy your craving then,” you whispered, knowing he’d want more before the sun came up. "And we'll see how well you actually behave."
Vampires had no shame when it came to sex or anyone who witnessed it.
Your wet, warm folds welcomed the cool feel of Bucky's expert touch. Before you could grip his arms, he pinned your hands above your head. His strength turned you on more, which you didn’t know was possible. You were almost in a constant state of arousal around him. “You'll beg for my cock long before you finish dinner,” he whispered against your lips, teasing your entrance as he kissed down the pulse in your neck. “Don't fucking move."
“Yes, sir,” you breathed, closing your eyes to brace yourself for what was coming.
Which would be you coming all over his fingers.
“Mine,” he growled, drawing a cry from you as he sank his fangs into your soft skin and slid two fingers inside your wet walls. You did your best to keep still as he slowly thrust and moaned against your neck. A submissive position he put you in to assert his power, yet you didn't feel weak. Even as he took your life essence and pleasure as his own he empowered you.
Because in return, you’d get every part of James Buchanan Barnes.
“Please, Bucky,” you begged when his thumb toyed with your clit. You wanted to grind your hips down, but he told you to stay still. If you had more time, you would've pushed to see what kind of punishment he'd dish out. But you knew he wanted to get you off quickly, like he said he could. "Please."
“So needy, darling. One of the things I love about you,” he said when he stopped drinking, blood running from your neck down your collarbone and chest as his fingers curled. He pulled back so you could see the red fluid around his lips. The feral look in his eyes as he licked them clean, your head spinning as you teetered on the edge. “Come for me.”
Your body seized up as you gushed around his fingers, your moan of ecstasy lost as he covered your mouth with his. You tasted your blood on his tongue as helped you ride out your orgasm. Days from now you would know the taste of him. Pleasure, eternity, love.
Your new life.
It took a moment for you to realize you were no longer against the mirror as you recovered. Bucky moved you to the bed to rest for a moment and catch your breath. the pinpricks in your neck closed and your dress straightened out. “Thank you for letting me have a taste,” he said, sucking his fingers into his mouth. “Didn’t think anything could make your blood sweeter, but your pussy does the trick.”
“Best combination,” you smiled.
“My favorite,” he agreed, helping you stand once your head stopped spinning. Lust still lingered in his gaze, but you couldn't ignore the concern that shone through. "Are you okay? I didn't take too much?"
"I'm okay," you assured him. He never wanted to lose control and take more than what he needed. No matter what, you were his number one priority. "And you won't have to worry once I you turn me."
"I'll still worry," he whispered. Loving you meant having something to lose. It also meant he had something worth living for. "One more thing before we go."
You smiled when he held up an onyx pendant surrounded by diamonds, like he pulled it out of thin air. Perfect to go with your dress. "It's beautiful," you said, allowing him to put it around your neck. "How did you manage to hide that from me?"
His fingers traced the delicate, gold chain as he smiled. "Because you aren't psychic, but you get feelings. Which is probably why you felt off when you looked in the mirror. You were waiting for me to give you this."
"It's like you know my gifts better than I do," you smiled, touching the pendant before you noticed there was still blood on your neck. "I should clean myself up."
"No," he said firmly, pulling you to his chest. You suspected his heart would race only for you if it could still beat. "You'll wear my mark with the necklace I gave you and your blood on your skin. You're going to be my wife and my mate. I want everyone to see that you belong to me and that there's no shame in my want for you."
You'd wear every brand and claim of his with pride.
"This won't show them that?" you asked, holding up your hand with your engagement ring.
"Vampires don't look at hands," he said, taking yours and kissing it. "They look at throats. And anyone who sees yours will know you're mine."
And I will be until the end of time.
"And when you turn me?" you asked, brushing your hand along his cheek. "Will I get to leave my mark on you and show everyone you're mine, too?"
"You can make an entire path of bites around my throat if that's what you desire," he offered, his icy hand covering yours. "I'll wear them proudly."
Bucky loved with his entire being. Not only were you strong and willing enough to accept it, you'd give him the same love in return. You would always be in each other's care.
My eternal partner.
"I might take you up on that," you smiled, feeling how hard he was through the fabric of his pants. Tempted to drop to your knees and return the favor, you asked, "Do we have time for me to take care of you?"
"We're already running late," he said, giving you a gentle kiss. "But maybe you can keep my cock warm at the table. No one will mind."
"I thought you were going to behave at dinner if you had a taste," you said, your walls clenching with the need to surround him, like he hadn't brought you to orgasm moments before.
"I will behave," he said innocently, but his eyes flashed as he showed his fangs again. "But we'll see how long you last before you try to ride me in front of everyone."
"Well, you did say I'd beg for your cock before I finished dinner."
And you suspected his hand, the necklace, and your blood would be the only things you wore around your neck once he took you to bed for the night.
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