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#dark!bucky smut
nastybuckybarnes · 6 hours ago
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Deep End  -  Two
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Pairing: Dark!Steve Rogers X Reader
Summary: He’s back. After all your best efforts at getting away, he’s found you again. And this time, he’s not letting you go so easily. He’s determined to do whatever it takes to get you to be his. Forever.
Warnings: Dark Themes, Language, Angst, Smut (DubCon,) Manipulation, Anxiety
Word Count: 3.4K
A/n: Boom part two! I wanna hear what y’all think’s gonna happen with this series
Madness Masterlist
Bad Dream Masterlist
THIS IS A DARK FIC WITH SEXUAL AND TRIGGERING CONTENT!!! READ AT YOUR OWN RISK!!!! 18+ ONLY!!!
~*~
“Good morning, Darling.” Chapped lips press a kiss to your cheek, strong arms winding around your figure and a sharp chin digging into your shoulder.
“Breakfast smells delicious.” You only hum, trying to get your hands to stop shaking.
“Is it eggs?!” Sarah bounds down the stairs excitedly, running straight for your legs.
Steve intercepts her, tossing her up in the air then catching her in his arms again.
She erupts in a fit of giggles and squeals as he starts tickling her, and you find yourself biting your tongue to stop yourself from saying anything to him.
“Eggs and bacon and pancakes only for you, Princess!” He exclaims, kissing her cheek then setting her back on her feet.
“Do I still go to school?” Sarah asks, climbing up onto one of the barstools and kicking her legs.
“Yes, sweetie, you still have to go to school. We’re gonna get you back to school soon, there’s just some things that... your dad... and I need to discuss first, okay? But today, you can relax at home, eat your breakfast and explore the house if you want.” She nods her head eagerly, little hands holding her fork as you slide a plate of food over to her.
You portion some out for Steve too, grinding your teeth together in distaste.
You scoured the house for anything that could be used against him but came up completely empty-handed. Rat poison, bleach, Lysol. Nothing.
He takes his plate with a smile, his free hand gripping your waist and turning you to him slightly.
He leans down, lips pressed against yours for a brief gentle moment before pulling away and sticking his tongue out at a snickering Sarah.
He sits down beside Sarah and starts eating, his eyes boring holes into your back as you gather some food for yourself. As you’re getting ready to sit down, he stands up, unlocking a drawer by the sink and grabbing a bottle of something.
Your heart races in your chest and you hold your fork just the tiniest bit tighter, prepared to use it as a weapon if you need to.
He turns back to you with a smile, setting two small pills on your napkin, away from Sarah’s curious gaze.
“Take them with your food,” he instructs, kissing your forehead then sitting back down between you and your daughter.
"Morgan’s gonna get dropped off for a little while, Sarah. She’s around your age and I think you two will get along great. You guys can play while your mother and I talk, okay?” She bobs her head up and down, shovelling the eggs into her mouth.
“Good.”
~*~
“They’re really hitting it off,” Steve says with a smile, watching as his daughter and her new friend play in the backyard.
You hesitantly come up beside him, a small smile spreading on your lips.
“I-I’m always nervous about her making friends. She’s never really had problems with it but...” You trail off, taking a step back as he turns around to face you.
“Tony’s got Morgan enrolled in a private school, says it’s really good. I was thinking we could send Sarah there too.” You bite your bottom lip and shrug. “I-I don’t know how I feel about private schools. What are the reviews like? And are they strict? I don’t want her... all I want is for her to have a normal childhood. That’s all I want.” Steve’s face softens and he nods, taking your hand and ushering you to the living room.
“It’s all gonna be okay. I know it’s gonna take some getting used to, but it’ll all work out in the end, you’ll see.”
You take a couple of deep breaths, wanting so desperately to believe him but you know better.
“Tony says the school’s really good, and it’s not super strict. The kids still get to have fun and make friends while learning. I think we should give it a shot and if she doesn’t like it we’ll find another school for her to go to.” You nod, eyes fluttering over to the window looking over the backyard.
“Now, I think you and I need to set down some ground rules, okay?” You turn to him, your guard up in an instant.
His face is calm, but you still don’t trust him.
“Sarah’s going to be at school all day, I’ve gotta go to work, which means you’re going to be here to look after the house. My beautiful housewife.” You furrow your brows, “What am I supposed to do here all day?” He looks around with pursed lips.
“Cook and clean? Keep the house looking nice, maybe you could start a garden if you want. But soon you’ll have less time for moving around and more time for...” he trails off, his hand coming to rest on your stomach.
“You’re gonna give me another baby, gonna carry it in that beautiful body of yours. And when the baby gets here you’ll have your hands full so you may want to start planning for that now.”
You’ve got no choice in this.
“D-did you keep any of Sarah’s old baby furniture?” You ask softly, fighting back tears.
“No, I gave it to Nat and Bucky cause they were talking about adopting. But you can buy more. I’ll give you my card and that can be your task. When Sarah’s at school and you’re done with cleaning, you can start setting up the new baby’s room.” He says it like it’s the most prestigious task he could give and you should be thanking him for the opportunity.
“Now, one last thing...” He eyes you for a moment then shakes his head.
“Your old wardrobe is going to be gotten rid of. I don’t want to see you in these leggings or jeans. I’ll have Nat bring over some clothes that are more acceptable, but until then, there should be a few decent dresses still in the closet from... before.” His eyes dark the tiniest bit at the mention of how things were.
“I want you to go change, then gather up all your old clothes. Once that’s done, you can start making lunch. I’m going to run out to grab a few things for dinner, we’re having guests over tonight, so I expect you to be on your best behaviour, okay?”
You say nothing, eyes focused on the floor.
He grabs your chin roughly and forces you to look at him, his eyes blazing.
“I asked you a fucking question, dear. You’d better answer me before I get angry.”
You swallow hard then nod, “o-okay. I will.”
He nods and lets go of your face with a smile, rising to his feet and fixing the sleeves of his shirt.
“Good. I’m thinking pasta for dinner.”
~*~
You’re wearing a yellow sundress that comes just past your knees. It flows with every step you take and you’ve gotta admit that it’s quite pretty. You hate that he chose it, though.
You set the dining room table silently, mind racing. You’re so lost in your thoughts that you don’t notice you’re not alone until a hand is grabbing the bottom of your dress.
“Mommy, did you hear me?” You gasp, jumping in surprise then shaking your head.
“No, Sarah, I didn’t. Mommy was just thinking. Sorry, what did you say?” She huffs a breath.
“Daddy said that Aunty Nat is coming over for dinner! Do you think she’ll bring ice cream?” Your heart clenches and you sigh.
“I uh... I don’t know. You’ll have to go ask... your father.”
“Ask me what?” Sarah turns to him and lifts her arms, giggling happily when he scoops her up in his arms.
“When Aunty Nat comes is she gonna bring ice cream?”
“Well, I don’t know if she’ll bring ice cream, but maybe after dinner we can all go out and get an ice cream cone. How does that sound?” She claps her hands together in excitement, squealing when she hears the front door open.
“Knock knock!” A female voice calls.
You swallow hard, trying not to let your anger get the better of you as Sarah shimmies out of her father’s grip and rushes to the door.
“Aunty Nat!” The redhead picks her up and spins her around.
“Hey, pumpkin! How’s my favourite girl doing?”
You walk back to the stove, stirring the noodles and imagining how satisfying it would be to dump the boiling water on the traitorous redhead.
“How’s dinner coming along?” Steve asks, his hands finding your hips.
“Just about done. Everyone can sit down, it’ll only be a minute more.” He nods, kissing your temple and opening the fridge to grab drinks.
“Hey, pal.” You stiffen, too many memories filling you at the voice.
“Hey, Buck. Glad you could make it.” You keep your back to the brunet, not wanting to see him, to remember what happened any more than you already have to.
“Aren’t you going to greet our guests, dear?” Steve asks, one hand grabbing the waistline of your dress and tugging. You reluctantly turn around to face the brunet just as the redhead walks into the room.
“Well?” Steve asks, looking at you expectantly. You say nothing, glaring daggers at Natasha. She meets your gaze for a moment then looks away, knowing full well what she’s done.
“Dinner’s ready.” Is all you say, yanking out of Steve’s grip and turning back to the stove.
“It’s nice to see you again too, (Y/n),” Bucky says, walking past you and into the dining room.
Natasha brings Sarah after him, leaving you and Steve alone.
“You and I will need to have a long conversation once they leave,” he hisses. “If your attitude doesn’t improve, then you’re going to need to be punished for it.”
You turn and look up at him with defiant eyes.
“I’m wearing your stupid dress and I’m playing your stupid game. What more do you want from me? You’ve got me and my daughter held hostage in your goddamn dollhouse and-” He grabs you by the throat, shaking his head at you.
“Fine. I’ll fucking teach you now then.”
He shoves you aside and walks into the dining room, a smile on his face.
“She’s just gonna bring dinner out. Then she and I need to have a little chat before we join you.” You reluctantly bring the food out, if only so Sarah can eat. You’ve hardly set the steaming dishes down before Steve’s grabbing your hand and yanking you through the house and up the stairs.
Your heart races in your chest, fear coursing through your veins at what he may have planned for you.
Flashes of different ways he’s punished you run through your mind and you feel your eyes fill with tears as he shoves you onto his bed.
His chest is heaving, with anger or exertion, you can’t tell.
“S-Steve I’m sorry. P-please don’t hurt me.” He watches you for a moment then shakes his head.
“You know I can’t tolerate that kind of behaviour.” You crawl back, tears dripping down your cheeks.
“I-I’m just, please! I’m scared and tired a-and I don’t have any friends and m-my dad is-is...” You shake your head, hoping he has a shred of decency left inside of himself.
“Please!” He stares at you long and hard then sighs. “You know I love you, and I love Sarah with my entire heart. But I can’t tolerate this rude behaviour. I know it’s a big transition for you, and I’m willing to be patient, but you can’t treat our guests that way. Rudeness directed at me is different, but you have no right to treat Bucky and Natasha the way you did. That’s why you’re being punished. I’ll forgive the snappy behaviour towards me, but not them.”
You shake your head and shove your face in your hands, sobs bubbling free from your chest.
“Please don’t hurt me. I’m sorry.” He nods, turning to the dresser and pulling out a familiar box.
It’s the box he keeps his torture toys in, you realize.
“Lay down on your stomach. If you listen, your punishment won’t be nearly as severe.” You sniffle and nod, rolling over and laying down on your tummy.
He flips your dress up and yanks your panties down your legs, eyeing your ass for a moment.
“Bucky and Nat are important members of this family, and you will treat them as such, do you understand?” You nod, crying out in pain and thrashing away from him as a leather paddle comes down hard on your ass.
“Am I going to have to tie you to the bed?” You can’t answer, you’re too busy trying not to choke on your own snot.
He grabs your wrists roughly and ties them to a hoop on the headboard, successfully leaving you at his mercy.
He smacks you again, and again, then a fourth time, and you squirm away as much as you can.
“When you’re good, you don’t get punished.”
He delivers sixteen more impossibly hard hits, then tosses the paddle onto the ground and climbs onto the bed, cock raging in his pants.
His knees push your legs apart and you shake your head, tugging against your restraints desperately as he lines himself up with your entrance.
“Huh, would ya look at that?” You press your face into the mattress, humiliation filling you as he rubs his cock through your wet folds.
“Feels like somebody enjoyed that a bit more than they were letting on, huh?” You shake your head, crying out as he sheaths himself fully with only one thrust.
Your walls burn at the intrusion, body instinctively creating more moisture to lubricate the violation, but that’s not how Steve sees it.
“Fuck, your body misses me, huh? Hates it when my cock isn’t fucking you.” He grabs your hips and hoists them up, then starts a punishing pace, forcing you to take every painful inch of him.
“Fuck, feel how tight you are... squeezin’ me so nice...” Every hit of his hips against your ass makes you cry out in pain, your entire lower half on fire.
“M’gonna fill you with my cum then lock it in. You’re gonna give me another fucking baby. Gonna grow nice and big.” He picks up the pace, eyebrows furrowed and face screwed up with pleasure.
His hips still, warmth exploding within you as he reaches his climax.
He stays inside you for a long while, catching his breath while his cock softens, then he slowly pulls out.
“You know,” he begins, rooting around in the box for something, “it’s much more effective if you orgasm too. Really sucks it all up in you and improves the chances of fertilization.” A switch flips and then there’s a constant buzzing noise filling your ears.
Right as you realize what it is, he’s got the vibrator pressed against your clit.
You jolt away from it, hips wiggling at the stimulation.
“N-no,” you whisper uselessly, inhaling sharply when he grabs your waist with one hand to keep you steady, forcing the vibrator against you.
“Look at that... feels good, huh?” You don’t reply, bottom lip tucked between your teeth as the coil in your belly tightens, your toes curling and your back arching, forcing the device against you even more.
Your mouth drops open and your eyes roll back as your body starts to convulse, a powerful orgasm tearing through your entire being.
“There it is,” Steve whispers, watching with dark eyes as he forces an orgasm out of you.
Your pussy flutters and clenches, clit swollen and aching when he finally removes the vibrator.
You’re still recovering from the intensity of your climax when he presses something cool to your entrance.
He forces the plug inside of you, despite your protests, then yanks your underwear back up your legs.
“Now c’mon. We’ve got guests to entertain.” He unties your wrists then helps you to your feet, watching in satisfaction as you struggle to walk down the stairs.
You rub your raw wrists, heart racing in your chest as you slowly walk into the dining room.
Bucky and Nat each look up at you, the redhead turning away while the brunet eyes you, a dark look in his eyes.
Steve’s hand remains possessively on the small of your back, and you carefully sit down, wincing at the burn in your backside and the throbbing of your core.
“Sorry to keep you waiting,” Steve says, a smile on his face as you portion out some food for him and yourself.
“It’s alright. Things happen,” Bucky replies, eyes stuck on your face.
“It’s been a while since we... since I last saw you, (Y/n). How have you been?” You swallow hard, eyes focused on your plate as you answer Bucky’s question.
“I’ve been fine. How have you been?” He takes a moment to answer, and in the thick silence of the room you can hear the metal plates in his arm whirring.
“I’ve been good. Happy that Steve has you back now.” You nod, forcing yourself to chew and swallow a mouthful of pasta.
“Mommy I’m full! Can we go for ice cream now? Aunty Nat and Uncle Bucky said we could!” You nod, pushing your almost untouched food away and standing up quickly.
“J-just let me clean up, then we can go for ice cream.” You start gathering the dishes, eager to leave the room and put some distance between yourself and the people at the table.
“I’ll give you a hand,” Nat says, rising to her feet and gathering the other half of the dishes.
You ignore her, grabbing the remainder of the food and starting to pack it up in containers in the kitchen.
“(Y/n), I’m sorry.” You shove the food into the fridge and turn to face her, tears welling up in your eyes.
“You’re sorry? That’s it? You’re fucking sorry?! I’m right back where I fought tooth and fucking nail to escape because of you! You’re the reason I’m back here with him, why Sarah’s back here and why he’s hurting me all over again and all you have to say for yourself is ‘I’m sorry’?!” Your voice is whispered, but the words may as well be shouted.
She shakes her head, hating the truth behind your words.
“Y-you don’t understand, (Y/n). I had to.” You sniffle and scrub a fallen tear off of your cheek.
“Or what? Would he kill that rapist boyfriend of yours? You swore you’d keep it a secret and now, because of you, my father’s dead and I’m stuck with a man who’s going to torture me and possibly my daughter as well. So don’t you fucking dare tell me you had to or that you’re sorry because those are both lies.”
You take a few deep breaths, walking to the sink and starting to wash the dishes.
“I trusted you. And you led him straight to us. I don’t care what you say or what you do, I’ll never fucking forgive you. If it were up to me, you’d be left at that cabin to bleed out. It’s what you fucking deserve after what you’ve done.”
She’s silent, standing there behind you for a long moment before turning and leaving the kitchen.
Your hands shake with the intensity of your outburst and you have to stop yourself from crying, chest rising and falling rapidly as your emotions get the better of you.
Your vision starts to blur, soapy hands gripping the edge of the counter tight enough to hurt. You lean over slightly, trying desperately to suck in more air as anxiety fills and overwhelms you.
“(Y/n)?” You don’t notice his hands on you until he’s pulling your hands off of the counter.
“I-I can’t.”
His hands find your waist, trying to usher you away from the sink, and your ears begin to ring.
Your knees give out and you crumble in his arms, him easily supporting your weight as you lose consciousness.
“Buck, take Sarah out for ice cream now.” His voice holds the same type of authority as it does when they go on missions, and the brunet pops his head into the kitchen to investigate for a moment before nodding.
“C’mon Sarah. Do you know what you want?” Bucky asks, taking Sarah’s hand and leading her to the front door.
“Do you?” She sasses.
“Well missy, I’m gonna get two scoops of chocolate, and Aunty Nat's getting mint chocolate chip.”
“I want cookie dough!”
The front door closes with a soft click and Steve sighs, scooping you up in his arms and carrying you to the bedroom.
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bvccy · 22 hours ago
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Nothing to Despair | 22. So sweet as melancholy
PAIRING: Soft!Dark!Bucky Barnes x Reader
SYNOPSIS: Bucky and a girl he never met before have to go undercover as married on a mission to Europe. He feels alienated in the modern world, while she goes through life alone and abandoned. Maybe they can find a new home in each other, but she’s not easily convinced.
CHAPTER NOTES: A bit of angst and a lot of smut. Tender lovemaking, body worship (of Bucky, because he deserves it), creampie, cockwarming (that turns into full body warming), breeding kink. Reader and Bucky are both completely soft with each other. Also, Hamelin makes a brief re-appearance! Thank you for all your comments and support 😘 Beta-read by @offcast-plus1​ 💖
WORD COUNT: 5.5k
⸻ [MASTERLIST] [AO3] [TAGLIST]
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When I go musing all alone Thinking of diverse things fore-known. When I build castles in the air, Void of sorrow and void of fear, Pleasing myself with phantasms sweet, Methinks the time runs very fleet. All my joys to this are folly, Naught so sweet as melancholy. — Robert Burton, The Author's Abstract of Melancholy
It had been years since she sat at such a table: round and heavy, wooden, perched on one strong leg and topped with a thick pane of glass. A grandmother's table, firm and welcoming and pure. She could feel the soft steady chill of it beneath her hand, could feel the rounded edge as she moved her finger across it, and could see in its reflection the lights from across the street. There were meaner lights too, red and bloody, and a deep sort of thumping and screaming and smoke from the jazz club at the basement — how those could reach them here, she didn't know, but somehow it made sense. Hamelin sat across from her, his hand also enjoying the surface of the glass, and for once, he wasn't smoking. She was happy to see him, relieved in a way; it didn't occur to her to be surprised.
"You should tell him, you know."
"Who?"
"Grit."
"When we get there…"
"I just thought you should know," he whispered, leaning closer on the table, and she leaned in too to listen, "they're in the suitcase at the bottom, in a fake compartment."
"We have many suitcases, I don't know which one."
"Then," he sighed, sitting back in his chair, "it doesn't matter." But he didn't seem upset, or worried like he used to be.
She smiled at him and stretched her hand across the surface, stopping right next to his without touching, because having travelled the distance was consolation enough. "Will you be alright?" she asked.
He gave her a sideways glance and smiled his usual, thin smile. "I already am."
She tilted her head in chastisement, but looked at him fondly. "I miss you, you know."
"High praise indeed."
"Don't tease me."
"Oh I'm not sorry," he grinned. "It's just that the sentiment is unexpected. But in a good way."
"I wish we could have spent more time together. I regret it, the way I was," she sighed, and through it said she wished to spend more time with him even now, but the leaving was almost upon her.
"Don't worry. Everything is as it should be."
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She woke up with a smile. Opening her eyes, the room was dark and she could barely make out anything in front of her, all odd shapes and shadows, but slowly something came into focus. A broad pale figure on the edge of the bed: her husband, sitting with his back to her, a faint light just barely shining off the metal shoulder. The corded muscles, the deep vast scars, the waist that tapered into such an elegant silhouette — she didn't often get to see him from this side, and it made her fears and doubts about him melt away to catch him in an unguarded moment while he thought she was asleep. She lay unmoving, breathing lightly, letting Bucky forget that she was there. He wasn't facing the windows, he was facing the dark inside of the room, and he didn't seem to be looking at or doing anything. He was clearly thinking about something, head bowed but coming up every now and then. The occasional sigh cut through the silence, low and deep and long, like it came from the very bottom of his lungs. Whatever conversation he was having with himself, he didn't like it. He looked over his shoulder at one point, and finally caught her staring. What little of his face she could see suddenly changed into a bright smile.
"Hey, doll. I didn't wake you, did I?" he said in a rough whisper. She smiled and shook her head. "What is it, you want some water?" he asked, placing his knee on the bed as he turned to face her.
"No," she said and, before he could ask anything else, added "Are you alright?"
He gave her a bright grin, a bit soft from sleep, but it didn't look like himself. "Yeah, everything's fine."
She stretched out her hand to call him back to bed, and with a more sincere smile, he took it and slipped back in the sheets. His wife scooted closer and laid her head on his chest, while his arm came around her like the most natural thing.
"How long've you been up?" he asked, looking into the dark.
She ignored that and asked instead, "What were you thinking about?"
"Nothing."
The girl gazed up and caught a guilty look on his face, eyes cast down and lacking their lustre with a line between his brows. His lips thinned, his jaw tensed, and though he tried to ease his features when he looked into her eyes and caught her staring, it was already too late. A hundred evil scenarios were galloping through her head.
"Are you thinking of getting rid of me?"
"What?"
"That is what you're thinking about. Isn't it?" she said, raising herself off him with one hand braced on the bed while the other held the sheets to her chest. She hadn't been sure when she asked, but his hesitation made her certain of it. Bucky frowned and stared at her mutely, his arms limp now that she was out of them. He swallowed the knot in his throat and quietly asked, with a touch of genuine curiosity:
"Isn't that what you'd like?"
His question gave her pause, because she couldn't exactly deny it, but she knew she looked hurt, and moreover knew that he could see it. "Well… I would," she started. "I mean, I want to be free and alone again, but not because I'm not wanted." Her mouth spoke without her and she was mortified by the admission the second it was out. Maybe he won't catch on…
"You want me to want you?" Bucky asked, tilting his head, and even smirking a little.
Bastard.
Was there a point in denying it? Would it do her any favours at this point? Would it do him any favours? He didn't seem any more distant than usual, except when he'd seemed lost in thought, and the lovely doubt slivered in that maybe it wasn't her he was upset with.
"Of course I do," she shrugged, and felt ashamed enough by the admission to look away and miss the hopeful change in his eyes, the melting of tension, and the restraint. As if she needed an excuse for it, she added quietly "I'm a person too, after all…"
Bucky got up and moved through the small dark distance in a heartbeat to put his arms around her, and pull her to his chest, and though she still didn't look at him, he searched her face very closely as he whispered, "If it hasn't been painfully obvious by now, I want you very much." He saw her wince and sink down lower, and was afraid to ask if that was out of fear or any lingering ache, or something else. She didn't seem so much afraid of him or angry, but rather sad. At what?
"And before you ask again, no, I wasn't thinking of getting rid of you, sweetheart."
When she looked up at him, she seemed conflicted. Her little jaw was clenched, and her eyes could barely stay on one spot on his face — was she even looking, or thinking what to say? — but at least she didn't pull away from him. Bucky rubbed his hands up and down her arms, then in one upward motion went further to her neck and gently clasped her face in his hands, tilting it up toward him.
"What about me?" he asked in faint jest, but deep down he wanted to know, "You gonna return the favor?"
She thought about saying it, as she looked into his eyes. Thought of various ways to put it: a simple yes, a fervent I want you, a binding I've wanted you for a long time, or conversely the safer route of no, I don't want you, I never did, I hate you, go away. But she wasn't sure she had that left in her, after all his efforts at breaking down her walls, because for days now he'd been beating at them with kisses, and caresses, and heartfelt declarations the sort she'd never heard before, and though she'd tried to remain her old self, it was harder than ever to do.
He held her, waiting, and the longer her fears and hopes raged, the more desperately he searched her eyes, lips parting as if he wanted to add something, but what could he? She wasn't saying yes, she wasn't saying no, and she just looked —
"Sorry… I'm sorry." She wedged herself closer to him on the bed, their knees brushing together beneath the sheets, and she cupped his face with one warm hand in a gesture more loving than she usually showed. "I don't want to be mean. I really don't. It's not that I don't… l-like you, I just don't know how to be around people. Around men."
His hand came up to grab her wrist but held it there, anchoring himself to these small parts of her body and the shy admissions she afforded him. Was she sorry for not returning his feelings, or for not being able to say it? "You don't need to know how to be around men," he growled, "just me." Then, softening at the sight of her slightly more afraid and deeply, sorrowfully lonely, added "And you shouldn't be afraid to ask me for what you want. I'm not afraid to ask you."
"Even if you don't always get it?" she smiled sadly.
"Even if I don't always get it," he said, pulling her slowly closer until her lips just barely brushed his. Bucky held her gaze as his hands came down to rest on her hips. Her head tilted in quiet invitation as she watched his lips, and seconds later he relented and kissed her, as soft as an apology.
"It's alright, honey," he sighed as he rested his forehead against hers. "You don't have to say it."
"But I do, I can see how much it matters to you, and you deserve to hear it. You deserve so much better than someone like me…" She was briskly interrupted by one broad hand gripping her throat.
"Nobody talks like that about my best girl. Not even you."
Her face broke into a smile and she leaned in with another kiss, which he hungrily took. With his arms around her, he pulled them both back down. She curled up half on top of him, leg straddling his waist and arms around his shoulders, holding on tightly as she snuggled into his warm flesh. Bucky's metal hand rested on top of hers, holding her to him, while his other one petted her slowly, smoothing her hair that was ruffled from sleep.
"Saying things matters a lot to you, doesn't it?" he asked at one point.
"It does," she realised, "I guess it makes it real."
"Is it less real now?" Does that mean it's real at all?
"Yes, it is." She felt his grip get tighter with happiness, pressing her more closely to him, and she matched it by snuggling in even closer and turning her head so her lips pressed into his chest. Muffled and so close to him, she whispered "But showing matters too."
She could feel his breathing rush, and though Bucky didn't move, she found his eyes tilted toward her, hopeful and waiting and a little afraid, even abashed, as if he had no right to ask. His wife brushed her lips against his skin until she reached the centre of his chest and stayed there, pecking it with kisses, then opening her mouth for wetter, warmer ones, and every now and then she couldn't help but nip the skin in little nibbles, before her mouth settled in again, gentle and reserved and loving, like her. She heard him inhale sharply, and felt it as the chest raised beneath her, and distantly felt his arms cradling her, petting her hair from the crown of her head all down her back, but mostly she heard and felt and loved the beating of his heart just under her lips. It pulsed stronger and more frenzied the longer she stayed there, as if it tried to reach her.
Looking up, his waiting gaze burned into her, and she had the sudden overwhelming feeling of being someone — herself, or Mrs. Barnes, or just the girl he loved, she wasn't sure she liked any of them. She'd decided that she liked herself best when she wasn't there, when there was just her own love for him, unspoken, and she could lose herself in that, and forget herself by thinking only about him, focusing on him, on making him happy. She needed that distraction to feel happy, too. So her solution was to bring her hands up, and gently clasp them around his eyes.
Bucky winced and almost said something, but let her do it, tilting his head back while hot little palms covered his eyes, and her mouth went back to his skin. He could feel it more intimately now, that soft cushion of her lips but also the little places where they were dry and chapped from sleep, and the hot exhale fanning above, and the bit of wet left after the inside of her mouth just barely suckled him in. He could hear the muffled, hollow patter as skin left skin, sometimes slowly, sometimes in quick succession. His wife gave him every kind of kiss, from the most sensuous and seductive ones he'd ever dreamed of, to the fast and shallow kisses one reserved for children. He let out a deep and happy sigh, and held her tighter, head tilting up to catch the edge of a thumb and kiss it back. She was everything to him, from a carer of his wounds to a playful girlfriend, a naughty lap cat, commanding minx, perfect wife, soulmate.
"I'm very fond of this heart," she moaned after some minutes, raising her head just enough to take a break and rest her cheek against his ribcage.
"You should be," he sighed with a broad smile, "it's yours."
She chuckled and purred, finally lifting her hands from his eyes to drag them down his side with the lightest scratch. Bucky could look at her again, head bent lazily to see her nuzzle into his chest. Her eyes were closed in pleasure and her lips twisted in a tight and greedy smile.
"It sounds big and strong," she said with an immediate peck, then going up to leave a kiss in the damp dip between his collarbones, "and very brave and loving," caressing herself upward on the surface of his body so that she could reach his unshaven chin, giving it a nibble, "just like" and bracing her arms on either side of him finally reached his lips for a kiss, "my best boy."
Bucky kept his eyes on her throughout the kiss and all through her parting, his face splitting into a grin so big and bright his face hurt. "Really?" She bit her lip and shrugged at him, but her cheeks rounded with a big grin too. The tension broke when he took her in his arms and pulled her back down to the bed, himself on top of her with her face in his hands, kissing through their smiles. "I'm your best boy, doll?" he asked once he came up for breath. "Am I?"
She nodded, giggling, looking up at the lightened edges of him through the dark as she braced herself against her chest, scratching lightly up and down without thinking. Then, remembering what they'd talked about before, she decided to say it. "Yes. You are."
Bucky leaned down to kiss her cheek first, then her lips, moving slowly as he shuffled himself closer to her, and she moved to make room for him. His warm hand moved down her hip beneath the sheets, then lower and toward the inside of her leg, pulling it up and to the side so that he could lay right on top of her. They were both lazy with sleep and sensitive, his senses alight from her earlier kisses. He held her face in his hand while her long fingers caressed his neck, and while he kept his gaze firmly on her — watching for any sign of surprise, or pleasure, or pain — he slipped himself inside of her. Bucky bit his lip to contain the smirk at the sight of her eyes half-lidded, lips parted in a gasp, and that one sharp inhale that brushed her chest against his with a shiver.
He felt her melt beneath his hand, like he melted into her, and in the silence of the room, their sighs and moans with each reflexive throb sounded deviously loud. Bucky worked his way inside, and cherished the victory of conquering the full length of her by staying there, settling deeply, holding her face still for him to kiss again and again. His lips pecked hers through her open-mouthed gasps, high and feminine and just what he wanted to hear. She flexed beneath him at first, trying to move, trying to pull him closer, curling her legs around him, but he chuckled and shook his head, and she didn't complain except through a bratty pout.
"Why are you teasing me?" she whined.
"You tease me all the time," said Bucky with a smirk, moving just slightly to make his point. The girl grit her teeth and it grew into a smile, her eyes aimed vaguely at his chest and where they touched each other, his stomach firm and heavy against hers. Then he stopped, and settled just a bit more firmly on her.
"This good?" She hummed and nodded, spreading her legs, and letting her arms lay around his neck in a loose hug as she stretched beneath him, making herself comfortable. "You're so warm when you've just woken up," he whispered, curling both arms around her on the bed, holding the top of her head with one and petting her cheek with the other.
"You keep me warm," she murmured.
"Let's see if we can't get you warmer then," Bucky grinned. "Fire up that little oven."
She got his meaning right away, and though she didn't say anything, he could see in the widening of her eyes that she was as intrigued as he at the prospect. If anything, she settled down firmer on his length as she looked into his eyes. Bucky set a hand over her thigh but she kept going lower, chasing him with a little grin while he slipped down on the sheets with her. He stopped her with a metal hand over her wrists, by now over the pillow, and clasped her hip within his palm.
"Sit still…" he growled, but he was grinning as broadly as she was.
"Or else what?"
"You sure you want to know?" he asked, nuzzling into her neck.
"You're charming when you're being threatening," she whispered into his cheek, ending it with a little kiss. "Tell me."
But he didn't tell her, he just focused on the feeling of her all around him, her skin hot and tight inside, and soft and smooth above, her smell just as hot and sweet and tasting sweeter with every kiss he took. Bucky sighed against her, and she giggled, and he felt it all along his chest. The longer he stayed inside her, the more he felt her throb and wet them both, and he wasn't sure he ever wanted to leave. Slowly, he let go of her hip and moved it just between them, over her stomach, and started to feel around. He lifted his head just enough to catch the look in her eyes once he found the tip of himself just barely there, right under his hand, on the other side of her. She quieted down and bit her lip, looking up at him somewhat afraid, or abashed, or surprised, and then he began to move his hand — just slightly, just trying. Her wrists beneath his metal hand stayed still, she wasn't trying to escape, and her legs lay quietly on either side of him. They gasped almost as one once he found the perfect spot. His hand spread across the breadth of her, with his thumb right on that spot, and then he started moving it — just back and forward, as he held her down, over and over, teasing the tip of himself while wrapped in her flesh.
"Bucky…"
"Is this alright, doll?" he breathlessly asked. She nodded mutely, mouth agape and eyes captured by his. "Do you like it?" A moan and a whine tangled in her throat while she stretched, trying surreptitiously to rub herself on him, but he wouldn't let her. His arm held hers firmly to the bed and the rest of him pressed her down while he teased himself with her. "Tell me you like it," he whispered, coming lower so that only she could hear — even the room couldn't catch the words he told her, or her little gasps. "Can you do that? Can you tell me?"
"Yes," she whispered back, dazed but completely absorbed by his pleasure.
"You like it?"
"I love it."
He kissed her lips then shifted them both up the bed, carrying her with him, and let go of her arms. She hugged him closer and held on to his neck while his metal arm gripped the headboard, squeezing it harder than he could her wrists. He stayed still inside her, just using his thumb to get closer and closer to finishing, and with her throbbing and whining and wrapping her thighs tighter around him, he released within minutes. He was grateful for the headboard then. Bucky focused on squeezing the wood while he buried his face in her neck, pulling himself ever so slightly closer, moving her up the sheets with him, and let her skin absorb his moans. He felt her shiver as she realised what was happening, gasping his name and grinding against him, but she took everything. Once his breath came back to him, he brought his flesh hand up to pet her and kissed the top of her head, still slowly spilling wave after wave of fertile seed into her. Bucky felt against his cheek, more than heard, her whispering his name pleadingly, and raising his head he saw how flushed she looked, lips swollen and eyes close to tears. He bit through a lazy grin at the sight.
"Keep it there, honey," he murmured, pressing even deeper.
She whimpered long and low, and ended it with a little raise of her head to bite at his clavicle, but then she fell back down, winded from the effort. He chuckled and grabbed her hip, then brought them both up together just by the waist until she was slightly bent at the middle with him on top of her and pressing down, her back firm against the bed and his thighs supporting her weight.
"Warmer now, doll?" he asked and kissed her cheek. She replied in a moan and a tight, delicious clench. "That's right, keep it in there."
"Feels so full…" she gasped.
"It's right where it needs to be, darling," said Bucky, kissing her again and threading his fingers through her hair to calm the both of them.
Her legs settled tighter around his waist and he felt her grip and release on the inside in rhythmic throbs, and between his satisfied manhood and her flesh, they felt warmer in a way that was still new to both of them. Looking in her eyes, Bucky could see she was surprised and softened by the same thing: the joy of another body heating hers from the inside, and the sensation spreading, licking up her body, through her blood, reaching her lips and her cheeks and hands, all of it a heat that his body made and gave to her.
Soon enough, all of her was burning. It wasn't in the way of a fever or a summer day, it was more, so much more intense than the most maddening arousal. She felt the length of him inside her, felt him heating at her core, felt his pooling liquid spill, his loins fixed to hers and large, manly, rough, warming with each slow sauntering second. The warmth spread between her legs, up her thighs that stuck to his in a shared light sheen of sweat. His abdomen was pressed to hers as well, more warm skin, their chests together, fire melting inside and out. That she could feel a part of him all throughout her — not just in her womanhood, but the heat of him as deep as her heart — that she felt her body change because of what he did, what he wanted to do with her, it was beyond all hope or expectation, and in that moment there was no more fear, or doubt of self, or hatred of a hypothetical him that left in a possible future. There was only the true feeling that they were two made one.
"Kiss me," she whispered, seeming for a second surprised by herself, but he obeyed her in the very same breath. When he parted from her lips, his hand came to rest by her face, thumb petting the line of her cheekbone. She was being so good and docile, letting him use her the way she needed to be used… He wanted to never stop pampering her. "Why do you do this?"
"You know why."
"So that… t-the thing you said before?"
He nodded and hummed contentedly. "You remember, doll? Say it, if you can."
"So that you can get me pregnant?"
Fire rushed straight through his body at just that timid whisper. "Just so, darling," he husked.
His arms curled tighter around her and his hips adjusted, making sure he couldn't slip out now that he was softening, and she moved with him, happy to be held. Her hands came up to rest on his cheeks, and she sighed as she looked at him.
"Why would you want that?" she asked.
Bucky looked at her and bit his lip, holding in a thousand things he wanted to say — remembering, most of all, the times when he'd asked himself the same question: why would anyone want to have his children? Because by now he knew better than to think it's him she was scared of — and instead took his time to settle them, slowly, on their side. He held her leg around him while he made room for her, making sure to never leave her, and pulled a pillow down and above his metal arm for her to lay her head on. She seemed a bit discomforted but constantly aroused, teased by the effect his body still had on her, but once she caught her breath and was secured around his length, her tired gaze came back to his, questioning.
"You remember when I asked you about what would make you happy?" Bucky said, caressing her cheek with the back of his fingers.
"Yes…"
"You ever found an answer?"
She bowed her head a little, bringing it just to his chin, and muttered "Not really." She had found something, but duty wasn't enough.
"I think you did, sweetheart."
His wife looked back up at him, but he wasn't saying anything else. He just smiled at her, so lightly she almost didn't catch it in the dark, and kept caressing her skin. He stayed inside her, and they fell asleep in each other's arms, waking a few hours later with the sunrise.
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Going out on the cruise became easier. They were closer to each other, comfortable, more trusting, even happy. Meals became a source of fun, and dessert turned into foreplay. They still didn't feel right kissing much in public, both private and possessive of everything they shared, but it only made the closing of the door a more meaningful event.
They would feed each other bits of dessert, share drinks to try the taste, and spend long hours on the deck at sunset, stopping to chat with the Mondays when they met, holding hands or hugging and leaning on each other in comfortable silence. Very often, they'd skip going out for breakfast, laying on the couch and calling for room service while they watched TV.
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"It's not called Sock-er, it's Football."
"So what do you call our Football then?"
"A joke. There's no ball, and you're not allowed to touch it with the foot. Call it Hand-Egg instead."
"You're such a brat sometimes. If this was back in the day, I'd spank you."
"Only if you use the metal hand."
"What?"
"What?"
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Bucky laid down on his back and she laid on his chest, her head just beneath his chin and her hands folded over him. The breakfast was half-eaten and the coffee was gone, but there was still water and orange juice on the little coffee table. They watched the game play on the TV, volume just high enough to fill the silence of the room. His hands moved slowly up and down her back, in a long and loving pet. She wore a thin nightgown with nothing underneath, and he wasn't wearing much either. When she started purring and looking longingly up at him, he stopped.
"What?" he smirked at her. "You want something?"
She didn't need to say anything, she just stretched up to kiss his chin and looked into his eyes, and within seconds, Bucky pulled his sleepwear off just enough to take his still-soft manhood in his hand, and with the other hand pulled his little wife just there, pressing it into her. She took it with a delicious sigh, then settled down just as she was before, licking her lips as a shiver ran through her.
"Good?" Bucky asked in a whisper, but he could tell she liked it from the curling of her claws into his chest and the tightening around him that was making him slowly harden.
"Very good," she groaned, "the best," and nuzzling into his neck, "the most perfect."
"Good in the superlative? Oh my," he chuckled, and kissed the top of her head.
She wasn't paying much attention to the game anymore, and neither was he, but it helped to pass the time as they melted into each other. Her twitching flexed her around him until he was a perfect fit, and from her warmth and wetness, he slowly filled out until he was firm and deep. He didn't need to thrust, and she didn't need to move, tempting though it was. They just allowed their bodies to enjoy each other, warming together and pulsing with blood and desire.
Bucky watched her laying in his arms. She was happy and trusting, and she had so much affection to give, something he never would have seen or experienced if things hadn't happened the way they did — and for the longest time, he'd feared it impossible, but she kept surprising him. The change had been slow, and in spite of how different she was around him now compared to those weeks long gone where she was cold and avoidant, she was still completely recognisable. She'd carried the loving inside her from the beginning, and he wanted to beat himself up for ever doubting it, for ever thinking her cruel or heartless.
A little while later, she started shifting on top of him.
"What is it, doll?"
"Thirsty," she whined, looking at the glass of water on the table.
"Hold on," said Bucky, wrapping both arms around her waist to keep her in place while he heaved them both up to sit on the couch. Her knees hugged his hips and her arms came up around his neck, and she kept him inside the whole way. He bent to get the glass for her, then leaned back against the couch while she drank her full.
"Thank you, darling," she said once she was done. "You want some too?"
Bucky leaned in to sip at a drop left on her lips, while he took the glass from her and moved to place it back.
"Got all I need," he smiled.
They stayed like that until he released again inside her, teased by the hot pulsing of her muscles, and with just a few small tilts, she shivered all around him with a strong and desperate clench. She relaxed, he softened again but stayed inside, and they managed to do it all over again twice more before lunchtime.
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buppybucky · a day ago
Idk if you take request but if you do then maybe a one bed trope thing with bucky and he gets morning wood and you wake up like what is that and he's like it's the morning and he's not embarrassed and then sex and fluff pls thanks ❤️
morning wood
PAIRINGS! avengers!bucky x avengers!f!reader
SUMMARY! in which bucky is too tired to be embarrassed of his morning wood.
WARNINGS! unprotected sex, 18+ minors dni, pet names (candy), one sided feelings, sleepy sex kinda, cocky bucky, fingering, oral (f)
A/N! i’m sorry for not making it clear but i am taking requests! currently, i have no works but if i do then my requests would be slightly delayed!
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“i am not working with that disgusting man child!” the loud voice rang through the small room. bucky looked up at the girl with a smirk. “c’mon, it’ll be fun! great bonding time.” he teased.
you rolled your eyes and sat in the seat, crossing your arms with a huff. “well, it’s either that or you resign.” tony said, pulling out the letter of resignation. you pulled the pen from his desk and started to write.
“it’s not that bad!” bucky yelled, grabbing the pen and throwing it away. you looked at him and scowled. “okay, well, there’s a motel booked, you two better enjoy.” tony smirked as he walked out.
that night, you had finished packing your bag and you were ready to go. “hi candy.” bucky’s voice sounded through your room. you sighed and turned to him. “what?” you asked.
bucky shrugged and walked towards your bed. “was bored, knew i could annoy you.” bucky smirked, laying back and watching you pack your small bag. “well, you can’t, i have stuff to do.” you said.
you walked into the bathroom and took off your shirt. “shower? i’ll join.” bucky teased, making you scoff and lock your bathroom door.
after your shower, bucky was still in your room so you had to change in the bathroom. you walked out and brushed through your wet hair. “y’look so good right now.” bucky bit his lip.
you scoffed and rolled your eyes, grabbing your skincare and starting it. “wanna do some f’me too, candy?” bucky stood up, sitting next to you. you put some moisturiser on your fingers and slapped his cheek.
bucky sighed and rubbed it in before getting up. “i’d be nice, girlie, we’re going t’be together for a while.” he spat before walking out of the room. you smirked and went back to your skincare.
the next day was completely hectic, you wouldn’t recommend it to absolutely anyone. you and bucky made it to the motel, and to make matters worse, someone thought that the signing under stark was a joke.
it was deleted and now there was only one room with one bed, one single bed. “it’s fine, he can sleep on the floor, bucky pay.” you said, wanting to sit down immediately.
bucky paid and got the key, bringing you to the room. you took the shower first, knowing that if you sat down you wouldn’t get up again. you walked out, seeing bucky wrapping up his wounds.
he went into shower and you took over with wrapping up the small wounds scattered all over you. bucky quickly came out, wrapped in only a towel around his waist.
you looked up at him before looking back at the bed. “y’know you were supposed to use the towels as a blanket.” you spoke as you jumped back, getting under the blanket.
bucky rolled his eyes and changed into his pyjamas. “i can’t sleep on the floor without a blanket.” bucky said, standing next to the bed. you shrugged and opened your phone.
“there’s a lot of space in the bed, are they sure it’s a single?” bucky asked, looking around you. you sighed and move over, opening up the covers. bucky smiled and got in, making himself comfortable.
you sighed and turned off your phone, as well as the small lamp beside the bed. “bucky i’m falling off the fucking bed.” you groaned, your ass cheek literally falling from the bed.
bucky lifted you up, now you were almost sitting on him. “night, candy.” bucky smirked, placing his head into your neck. you sighed and tried to fall asleep.
you were rudely woken up a few hours later by bucky’s leg falling over your own legs and something poking your lower back. “bucky.” you said, hitting his hip. he groaned.
you did it again, and again, and again, until finally, he lifted his head. “what the fuck is poking me?” you asked, looking back at him. “huh? oh, it’s my dick.” he mumbled, putting his head back.
“your dick?” you asked. he nodded and pulled your into his chest. “yeah, it’ll go down later, j’come back to sleep.” he whispered, kissing your shoulder. you jerked your shoulder, hitting him in the nose.
he groaned and moved back quickly. “fuck!” he yelled, holding the bridge of his nose. “don’t kiss me.” you said, shaking your head and going back to your original position.
you tried to deny it, but you felt a certain shock through your body when bucky kissed your shoulder. bucky got out of the bed to clean his, now bloody, nose.
bucky got back into bed, and pulled you close into him. “it’s the least y’can fuckin’ do.” he said, pulling you into him, the feeling of his boner against him made your panties dampen.
“i know you’re wet, can smell ya.” bucky mumbled, moving your hair away and kissing your neck. you whined and pushed him off. “c’mon candy, we’re both horny, might as well relieve some pressure.”
you moved your hand from him and let him continue to kiss your neck. “fine, but in this position i don’t want to look at you.” you mumbled. bucky nodded and pulled down your pants.
he pulled down your panties before slapping your ass. “i’ve fuckin’ dreamed of this moment since i met ya.” he whispered in your ear. you bit your lip and looked down at his hand on your waist.
he pulled down his pants and boxers before sliding his tip through your slit. you gasped quietly and gripped his hand. bucky smirked and slid into you.
you moaned and your hand on his hand tightened. “there y’go.” he groaned, slowly sliding in and out of you. you whined and wiggled your hips.
bucky but his lip and pressed his thumb into your ass. “y’feel s’fuckin’ good, candy.” bucky grumbled as he continued at his painfully slow pace. you slapped his hip and whined.
“faster, harder, anything.” you complained, gripping at his naked hip. bucky complied and thrusted faster, the sound of their skin slapping was slightly muted by the sheets.
bucky whined and lifted you up. “candy, i’m gettin’ no where in this position, let’s change, hm?” he mumbled. you nodded and sat on his lap, turning around the face him.
“gonna look at me, candy?” he teased, gripping your hips. you sighed and rolled your eyes, sliding onto him. “shut up bucky, i’m using you for your dick.” you moaned.
you felt bucky’s tip bounce off all the right angles, hitting your sweet spot. “fuck! oh god!” your legs squeezed around his waist, crying out in pleasure. “ya look s’fuckin’ good takin’ my cock like a good girl.”
you rolled your eyes to the back of your head as you felt the knot in your stomach fall onto the verge of snapping. “oh my god i’m gonna cum.” you moaned, gripping his shoulders.
your nails dug into his skin and left crescent shapes as you released all over him. your body curled up and you fell back. bucky pulled out and finished on your lower stomach.
instead of getting back into bed, bucky bent over and rubbed your clit, sliding a finger inside you. “what are you doing?” you asked, looking down at him. he shrugged and started pumping his fingers in and out.
you moaned and arched your back. “i wanna see if this pretty cunt can squirt.” he moved his fingers from your clit, connecting his lips instead. your eyes were sat at the back of your head.
bucky pulled his fingers out and soon replaced it with his tongue. “bucky.” you dragged out in a whine. bucky smirked and pulled away, sliding his fingers inside you again.
“c’mon, candy, squirt for me.” he moaned, continuing to suck on your clit. you felt an unfamiliar knot form in your lower stomach. “fuck, fuck, fuck!” you moaned out.
bucky curled his fingers and practically assaulted your sweet spot. “holy fuck!” you yelped, feeling yourself come loose. you squirted all over bucky’s face, making him moan quietly.
“that’s it, candy.” he smirked as he pulled away, cleaning you up with his tongue. you tried to regain your breath as bucky went to clean his face.
bucky came back and sat down in front of you. “so, still hate me?” he asked, helping you with your pants. you sat up and nodded. “yup, night buck.” you said as you crawled back into bed.
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bvccy · 2 days ago
Text
Nothing to Despair | 21. On which my ruins rest
PAIRING: Soft!Dark!Bucky Barnes x Reader
SYNOPSIS: Bucky and a girl he never met before have to go undercover as married on a mission to Europe. He feels alienated in the modern world, while she goes through life alone and abandoned. Maybe they can find a new home in each other, but she’s not easily convinced.
CHAPTER NOTES: More smut, some dark!Bucky, bondage (handcuffs), sweet dirty talk, lingerie kink, fingering, a bit of petplay (kitten!reader), frottage, breeding kink, creampie, and cockwarming. Actually very tender lovemaking and, in spite of appearances, fully consensual. I know I've been spamming you with porn these chapters 😂 Thank you for all your comments and support! 💖 Beta-read by @offcast-plus1​ <3
WORD COUNT: 5.3k
⸻ [MASTERLIST] [AO3] [TAGLIST]
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Lyde was not so dear to Antimachus, nor Bittis so loved by her Philetas, as you, my wife, clinging to my heart, worthy of a happier, not truer husband. You’re the support on which my ruins rest, if I’m still anyone, it’s all your gift. — Ovid, Tristia, His Wife: Her Immortality
They went out for a late lunch, and took their time with a two-course meal, dessert, drinks. Sweetened by pastries and hot tea, and softened toward him of her own will, Bucky had never felt more at ease around her, more comfortable and happy and at home, and he could see her turning shy every time she looked at him and saw how lovingly he looked at her, with his big dumb smile and crinkled eyes. Had anyone else looked at her like that before? He hoped not.
Thanks to a confusion with their orders, they got into conversation with another couple sitting next to them, and after they switched the plates between their tables, they introduced themselves. The elderly pair were vacationing Britons, Cecil and Pippa Monday. They went on a cruise every once in a while, or on some camping trip or mountain climbing or some other great adventure. Cecil was a jovial type, completely grey and a bit fat, and in spite of some joint pain, and growing hard of hearing in one ear, and having to keep track of a host of different pills to take, he seemed happier than anyone they'd met in a long time. Pippa was a little different — though equally grey and plump, she had a tough, imperial air, her swollen wrists and digits tastefully bejewelled, holding the cutlery very precisely in her manicured fingers, and smelling finely of perfume.
The girl eyed Bucky warily as he introduced them — caught on the spot, he used the same identities as from the mission, because that's what their passports said and it was the cautious thing to do. She could note a frown of sadness as he used the names, in all their bitter history, but she reached out and held his hand, and the warm smile he gave as he turned to look at her made up for it.
They went out for a walk afterwards, all four together, strolling on the decks. Mr. Monday taking pictures, Pippa posing now and then. Although she was, at times, commanding, the two got along uniquely well, and whether from getting used to each other over the years or just their natures fitting together in the right way, they seemed steady as a rock. They walked ahead, slowly, with Bucky and his wife behind, and as the girl looked at them waddling along, holding hands like schoolchildren, talking and supporting and admiring each other with every little chat or evening plan or snapping of a picture, something in her heart began to ache. Why couldn't she have that? How come it could happen to other people and not her? Could it happen to her? Just as she struggled with the ugly fear, she felt Bucky's warm hand caress her back.
He trailed his palm up and down her stiff length of spine, to remind himself that she was there and his and he was right by her side, as he watched the snowy lovebirds up ahead. Thanks to the rotten mission and their circumstances, he'd been robbed of the opportunity to introduce them as Mr. and Mrs. Barnes for the first time. And now, he could just about hear as the Mondays — a well-meaning and wholesome pair — speculated with a bit of pity and concern about them. It hadn't escaped their notice how the names stuck in Bucky's throat, and how nervous his girl became, and now they thought they were —
"Going through something awful…"
"Must be."
"Probably divorce or the like."
"They're a bit too young for that."
"Well, you know, my dear. These days…"
— and he hated their pity, the suspicion that anything was wrong, and even the ghost of the thought of her abandoning him filled Bucky with cold anger.
From the corner of his eye, he caught her looking up at him, and so he let his face relax as he looked down and hummed in question. She shook her head but kept inspecting the lines of his face with worry. The hand trailed up her back to hold her neck and the other one came, hard and cold and gloved but gentler than anything, to brush some wind-swept tendrils from her face. Moments like these, when she seemed to have genuine concern for him, always overflowed his heart with love, and like a reflex he asked — heard his own voice whisper, rather — if everything was alright, and this time he didn't call her "doll" or "darling" but he used her name — more than her name: a littler version of it, the natural pet name that was hers.
It almost didn't register in her head when he said it, but as she caught up with what she heard, her eyes widened and she shivered under a rushing of hot blood. He'd never called her anything like that, nobody had, not since her friends at university — except, of course, her mother. It wasn't special, but it was so rarely used it had a deeper air of intimacy. She smiled instinctively and bit her lip at the little tenderness he put in saying it, and seeing her reaction, his face bloomed into a grin.
"Yes, I'm alright," she whispered back through a shy smile. "Are you?"
He stopped their walk, and held her face, and leaned down to kiss her cheek. "Never better." He raised his face from her before she could kiss back, so instead she turned her head and reached the hand that held her shoulder, and so kissed that instead.
The Mondays felt them stop, somehow, and stopped as well to look at them. Perhaps this somewhat allayed their more sombre speculations.
After they were done with their sight-seeing, Bucky thought it might be safer if they bought some takeaway for dinner rather than go out again, and the girl didn't argue. They were back in their suite in the early evening, when the sky was still pink and all the nearby rooms were empty.
He stowed the food they bought in the little fridge, then poured himself a drink while he watched. She moved gingerly, taking her clothes off and folding them too, while her husband sat in an armchair and sipped his whiskey. The girl acted as if he wasn't there, and though it might not have been her intention, it incited him even more. She was down to her lingerie when he told her to stop.
"Stay like this for a while, honey," he said, getting up and starting to take his own clothes off while he fixed her with his eyes. His wife straightened up but didn't move away, waiting for him by the desk and watching, rather bravely for her, as he hurriedly undressed. "Take just the slip off, now," he husked once he was down to his briefs, and pulled those off as well.
She obeyed quietly, seeming almost curious, but still let her hair fall to cover her, as there was no bra underneath. Bucky walked to her, slowly, and rested a hand on her hip, the other brushing her hair away so he could admire her more. He seemed almost pleased, but then he thought of something, and with a smirk asked her one more thing:
"Why don't you put your carnelians on? They look so nice on you."
She eyed him warily and parted her lips, almost ready to argue, before she decided against it. Slipping out of his hands, the girl went to the jewellery box and uncoiled the necklace from there. She didn't like the way he licked his lips and bit the fleshy lower one as she put it on, and as it slipped around her neck, she couldn't help but wryly quip:
"If you like them so much, maybe you should be wearing them."
"You're so mean to me," Bucky laughed, low and a little breathless from the sight. "Why are you always mean to me?"
He didn't seem upset, in spite of how his question was somewhat justified, so she jokingly replied, "It's how I express affection."
"Well then," he chuckled, stepping closer, "I'm madly in love with you too." Her smile died a little, and she looked back down just when he reached and grabbed her again, his hands cradling her hips pulling her gently forward. "You know I am… I wasn't joking," he whispered and kissed the top of her head, expecting some resistance because he knew she didn't like to hear it, even though he still didn't understand why. She stood stiffly in front of him and looked downward with no focus, and let him pull her deeper in the room, then to their bedroom, and shut the lights. "You were so sweet earlier," he murmured as he softly felt her waist. "What happened?"
"Too much… I reached my limit, I guess," she shrugged, and didn't have to specify what exactly was too much, because by now, though he couldn't name it either, he knew.
"Just relax."
"Easy for you to say."
"And let me take care of you."
"I don't want it."
"We talked about this. What did I tell you about wanting?" he growled, coiling the metal fingers around her neck in a loose hold and making her, finally, look at him. "You don't have to want, you just have to take it."
"Who's being mean now?"
Bucky sighed and searched her face, mellowing only a little. "Guess this is how I express affection."
She gave him a spiteful glance, daring him to squeeze harder, but she couldn't hold it long because his other hand moved to pull her panties off. She immediately grabbed his wrist, but it did nothing to stop him, and Bucky inched the garment off first one hip, then the other, until they were low enough to fall away. Holding the girl still with the metal arm, Bucky looked down at her, his dream come true in living flesh. Her chest peeked out from beneath her hair, the red gems sat like bloodstains on her skin, and that soft feminine triangle between her legs was framed beautifully by the garter straps. He was hard in seconds, his manhood pointing at what it wanted, and he felt her squirm and clutch the metal wrist trying to get away — probably more out of habit than anything else.
"Haven't you had enough?" she hissed.
Bucky dragged his gaze up her body and asked with a smirk, "Does it look like I've had enough?"
He pulled her to him by the jaw and tilted her head up for a kiss pure and gentle, and all the warmer for it, because underneath, her body rubbed against his, her chest to his, and his member up the length of her abdomen. His flesh hand kneaded her hips and moved to her lower back to pull her closer.
"How about I treat you nice tonight?" Bucky asked once his lips left her, so close he spoke right against them.
"I think we have a different idea of what that means," she muttered, looking at his chin to avoid the chill of his eyes.
"I know you want to be let go, darling," he sighed, pressing one short kiss into her upper lip, "but it's not good for you."
"Not good?!" she bit back, outraged enough to look up at him.
"You need to see that it's alright to be made love to. You need to trust me with that."
Her body was unmoving against his, but he still felt her bristle through the rasping of her tone. "I don't need anything. I don't need you. I was fine before."
Bucky's jaw tightened. It hurt every time she said it, it never got easier to hear her talk like that, but he reminded himself that he knew where she was coming from. He'd thought the same thoughts and felt the same feelings. He wasn't all that different, which made it easier, made her dearer to him than anyone in spite of these times when she sunk her little fangs in the hand he extended.
"You think you were, cause you'd been that way so long. Cause no one ever thought to take care of you before. Am I right?" He searched her eyes and was met with only a frown and an even harder glare. "But you don't have to go through life alone, doll. It's ok to need other people."
"Touching. Got that one from your shrink?"
It was sometimes easy to forget that she was Hydra.
Bucky's hand tightened ever so slightly around her neck as he thought back to how open and loving she'd been that morning, when he'd just asked her to be a prop for his self-pleasure. And now, at the mere suggestion of him pleasing her, she bit back with everything she knew could hurt him. She wasn't as subtle as she thought.
"Lay down on the bed," he growled. "On your front."
That got her eyes to widen slightly. When he released her she hesitated for a second, but slowly complied, climbing in bed as she was and making herself into a tight straight line with her forehead in the pillows, her eyes closed, her arms curled beneath her. She stayed still in waiting for him, and only jumped a little when she felt Bucky grab her foot: he had the handcuffs now, and secured her legs together at the ankles.
"What are you doing?" she fearfully asked, bracing herself on the bed on two tense arms to stare at him.
"Be a good wife and do as you're told, honey."
She slowly laid back down and waited. Soon enough, Bucky got in behind her and moved them both to lay on their side, his naked skin burning down her back, from his breath at the nape of her neck all the way down to her legs. He slipped his metal arm beneath the pillows while his flesh one rested on her hip. The girl inhaled sharply, then breathed it out slow and deep, and didn't fuss. He was breaking her in and she knew it, but it was hard to find the energy to fight back when there was no escape. His hand moved gently across her skin, more in teasing than in shyness, and then it moved forward and lower. She gripped it and tried, uselessly, to scratch across his skin, but it did nothing to stop him — worse, he seemed to like it.
"That's it, kitten, sink your claws in me…" She felt his member brush up against her thigh, just lightly, before he started thrusting against her skin, while in front his fingers pet the surface of her mound. "What a fierce kitty I've found," he moaned in her ear, and chuckled when she squirmed in his embrace and sunk her nails in harder. "Vicious little stray that nobody else wanted, isn't that right?"
His wife sunk her head forward, away from his whispers and hot breath and the deeply hurtful way he framed her life. She grit her teeth in useless anger and tried to ignore him, though she could think of a thousand biting things to say, while her feet shifted the little distance they could in discomfort, rattling the handcuffs. Bucky threw one leg over them to quiet her down.
"Yes, nobody wants a kitty that bites and scratches, do they? That doesn't want to be pet," he cooed, and felt her hand relent on his wrist, falling limply down while his fingers threaded from the top of her womanhood down to where he felt her dampening with each long, slow caress. "But you know what, honey?" he rasped into her skin, grinning with real gladness as he thrusted in broader arches against her thighs while his fingers teased her front. "I'm grateful nobody's wanted you before."
She jerked her elbow back at hearing that, managing to hit his ribs with one clumsy thrust. "That isn't true, you bastard," she gritted out.
"Ooh?" asked Bucky in a sing-song voice, surprised at her outburst of emotion. He should've guessed that hitting her pride would work. "Is that so?"
"Yes." She settled back down in his embrace and let him cuddle her again, feeling his member burn and throb against her skin while his fingers went back to their slow, maddening work. "I've been proposed to three times. Just always said no."
"Well… Glad I wasn't number four then," Bucky grinned, his smile tight and bright, hiding behind it the same homicidal instinct that had ended Hamelin — these men weren't a threat anymore (and he didn't know who they were anyway).
"You didn't exactly give me much of a choice," she muttered, turning to glare over her shoulder at him. "Look at you, you're not even sorry."
"Not one bit," he said, tilting his head and leaning down to her. She closed her eyes and let him do it, taking one teasingly light kiss after another while he pulled her against his front ever tighter, using her again to pleasure himself. His fingers had caused her to relax and open up a bit, but the way he kissed her — seemingly quick and chaste but so playful and desirous — made her pulse like nothing else. Bucky parted from her with a moan and whispered, "Can you part your legs a bit, sweetheart?"
She looked into his eyes and did so, too afraid to ask what he wanted to do. He held her gaze and lifted his hand from her, moving it behind to manoeuvre his hard hot manhood right between her thighs, and left it there. Her lips parted in surprise and he drank in the sight, grey eyes focused on her kiss-swollen mouth open in wonder while he eased her legs back together, and started thrusting. The tip of him peeked out from just below her mound, above the edges of her stockings, then was dragged back in when he pulled away, then out again. Once she understood, she tightened her legs even more, squeezing his length against her soft skin. Bucky's head fell forward one unguarded second in a hungry moan, before he opened his eyes and looked back down at her, tight and trapped and timid, but excited — he could feel how much right on the skin around his member. He felt how wet he made her, how she pulsed and her hips tilted — poor thing, he'd teased her enough, she needed a little something too. He moved from the heat of her thighs and swollen lips out into the cold of the room, while she got damper all around and kept squeezing him, using him to please herself as he used her. Her head rested heavily on the pillows, tilted slightly back into his chest, eyes closed while she bit her lip and Bucky kissed her shoulder. His hand stayed on her hip to guide her movements, but his eyes were focused on her arching chest.
"Look at those tight little peaks, darling," he purred, "and I haven't even touched you there." She winced and tried to curl back into him, but didn't even have time to bring her hands up to cover herself before he brought a finger up to tease her — just up and down the surface of one breast, at first, then lingering to touch the hardened peak so lightly she almost didn't feel it, but a deeper part of her did. "I love how sensitive you are," he whispered in her ear, his fingers playing with her while he thrust faster and pressed his front against her for a little longer every time. "Everything is too much, isn't it? After long years of nothing." He bent and leaned down to press a kiss to her tip, and didn't mind her bringing her arm up to push him away — he stayed right there and kissed it again, the gentleness making up for the rough way he was moving between her legs. "I know what that's like, sweetheart," he murmured. "It's like that for me too. Or was, before you."
She groaned under his attentions and shifted away from his lips, though it was no use. He followed her body and kept kissing, lapping now and then while he looked into her eyes, stopping to sigh from a particularly pleasurable thrust, then calm himself down and start again with kisses as light and tender as the ones he gave her mouth. It made her burn inside and out, and she tried to focus on the thought of what, in spite of her discomfort, this might have meant for him. If she was going to be good, which she wanted to be, she knew she had to let him get what he wanted — even if getting meant giving. And he gave without considering that she didn't know what to do with it, where to place these new unusual feelings and the growing knowledge that he was pleasured, happy, pleased, because of her.
Thinking back to their first time, her hips canted back into him on instinct — he noticed, and nibbled at her skin just slightly with a smirk and an approving moan — and she could finally allow herself to be flattered that she'd made him spill within minutes. It felt as much her conquest over him, as his; her vanity was satisfied. She had never imagined she could do that to a man, certainly not to one as big and brutal and rugged as he, who seemed to move through the world as if he owned it — because, with his excessive strength and skills, he probably could — and underneath the storm of feelings he was teasing out of her, a small battle raged between the hope that he wanted her, and the fear that he was lying.
"I need to be inside you again," he said with urgency. "Are you gonna let me?"
She looked back at him and almost paused in motions as she felt him throb and tremble, his skin sticking to her back and his breath coming out harsh and fast. His eyes looked pained and begging, and she couldn't say no, but she wouldn't say yes either, so she nodded. Bucky smirked and bit his lip as he looked over her flushed face, and in the warm and husky voice he got when he felt loving, asked:
"You want it before or… after?"
"B— first one." Why did I say that.
"Before?" he said with a bright, incredulous grin. Bucky got up from behind her and kneeled on the bed, lifting her legs and tilting them to the side together, holding them in the crook of his metal elbow while he placed himself where he wanted to be. She clung to the bedsheets but allowed him to move her around, keeping her eyes on his and not to what he was doing. "You want to finish with me inside a'you, doll?" he asked in a teasingly low voice.
He was more than ready to slip into her, and she'd been ready for the longest time, the tops of her stockings ruined with wet, so it was easy for him to join with his little wife. Her eyes closed as the feeling of it — not too painful, but discomforting enough to feel right — and her head fell back lazily, making room for Bucky to lean in and kiss her neck while he slowly settled in place. His hand fell by her side to brace himself and trap her in, instinctively afraid that she would move away — not that she could run anywhere, he'd made sure of it on purpose — and between being held up like that, and kissed, and taken, the same old overwhelming feeling came and all her promises of patience and duty fell apart.
"You don't have to hide," he cooed once he saw her cover her face with her hands and tilt away, as far as she could from him. "You don't have to be shy around your husband."
His gentle pleas turned into moans the deeper he went, then into whimpers of her name, and praises of how good she was, how warm, how soft, how perfect as his arms tightened around her, and then her name again, her pet name, and how she was his, only his, finally his. It didn't take long for her to undo him this time either, especially since she was a bit more relaxed and opened up, and though Bucky tried to thrust less deeply, less quickly than he wanted, he was at the very edge of his restraint. He wanted to see her face, but she was turned away and had covered her eyes with one hand, biting the thumb of the other, neck arched with the strain of pulling away from him. Her hips were pliant, docile, tamed — he could do whatever he wanted with that part of her, but he wanted everything. His arm stretched along her legs to push them closer, tighter, with him still inside and aching, while above he stretched to kiss the length of her from clavicle to cheekbone. He whispered her name against her blushing skin, and pleaded, and against her mutter of moans and whimpers asked:
"Tell me you love me." She winced as if struck and her every muscle froze, mouth going limp and losing its grip on her finger, hand slipping from her eyes, but inside he felt her throbbing. She seemed to be considering it. "You don't have to mean it…" he bargained, and the thought pained him so much he couldn't look at her. Bucky's head rested on her chest, where he could be with the cage that held her spirit and closed his eyes against it, forgetting everything else. "Please, doll…"
"I can't," she gasped, heaving pained breaths now that he'd settled inside her, as deep as he could reach and almost deeper, and refused to move or let her get away.
"You don't?"
"I can't say it."
He sighed into her skin, his anger at her turning very quickly into anger at himself, disappointment, the bitterness of failure, and after swallowing the lump in his throat, Bucky moved back off her. He held her by the hip, bending the legs tighter into her body with his metal arm so that he could see all of her: from the curled up little feet trapped in the handcuffs, up the lovely limbs in sheer black stockings that ended at her thighs — stained and very, very damp — and her derriere framed by the garters that dug into her flesh, and the point where he stretched and entered her. The scent of his wife was sweet and feminine and a bit salty and threaded with what was left of her perfume, and the sound of her once he started moving deep, hard, unforgiving — how she moaned and whined and could barely form the words to beg — that was what finally undid him. He grit his teeth and took in her body as he used it, then settled deeply, spilling all he had, and stayed there. Bucky didn't allow himself to moan or whimper or say any other useless thing, not anymore. He closed his eyes and tilted his head back, careful not to grip her too tightly or press her legs down harder, though she winced and tried to wriggle from his grasp. He kept himself in her through his softening while he put a bit of pressure with his hand just on the other side, on her lower stomach. As he started moving his hand slightly, he felt one hot paw press against his hip.
"What are you doing?" she whined.
Bucky tilted his head back down to look at her, licking his lips at the wrecked sight of his girl, flushed and tousled and panting, her hand timidly touching his skin, eyes just slightly teary and burning into his while she tried very hard not to look at the sweaty rest of him. He gently leaned in and caged her in his arms, still mindful of her legs and the point where they were joined, and looked through the damp strands of hair that fell in his eyes to lowly growl:
"Sit still. Need to open you up, want it to take."
Her eyes widened — in fear? disgust? despair? — but she laid back down and let him. She tried to settle a bit more comfortably, but still huffed in frustration at being used, plugged up. He was hot inside of her, and though she was already burning from the friction, he warmed her up even more. With his eyes fixed on hers he started moving his hand again, palm flat and heavy, pleasuring her from inside and out. And when he found a spot that caused a shudder through her whole body, her look of apprehension melted into something new. He grinned and started focusing on it, moving his hips — because she made him harden again already — and finally she gave him the moans he wanted: loud and surprised and pained. And she looked up at him with such a large and open gaze, so sad, so pleading, as if she finally felt wanted and understood what it meant.
Breath by panting breath, she fell apart under his hand. Bucky felt her shudder then relax, saw her legs tensing in the rhythm of her moans while deep inside she pulsed and squeezed his length into another weak orgasm. Slivers of him were just beginning to seep from where he entered her, but there wasn't enough room for much of it to escape. Her own hand came up to cover her mouth in a limp attempt to stop herself from being louder, but it was useless. Her head tilted back, tangling her loose hair more, and she closed her eyes dreamily. Bucky gave her that pause while he just looked at her, almost forgetting about the furnace that encased him, but then she winced and said his name.
"Let me go… Bucky, let me go," she whispered, looking back up at him. It took him a second to realise what she was talking about. "My legs are starting to hurt."
He felt so good in her that he hesitated, then wanted to kick himself for it. You really are a piece of work, Barnes. Wordlessly, he nodded and slipped himself from her, then slowly laid her legs back down on the bed before going to the nightstand where the keys were. He unlocked the handcuffs and took a moment to massage her ankles and cold feet, but she didn't seem too much in pain. The stockings were ruined, but it didn't matter. Without her asking, he unclasped her garter belt and peeled the lingerie off her, then went up to undo the necklace as well. She laid quietly in bed and let him take everything off her, keeping her gaze on his face and waiting for him to look back — when he did, he could only hold it briefly, and she wondered if the ache she saw there was because of her, or… Of course it is, it always is. As soon as Bucky was done, she turned on her side and curled up while he went to put away her ruined garments and the jewels, and get a cloth to clean them both up.
He almost didn't want to go back to bed with her when he was done, but for once she actually asked for him. She didn't seem upset with the mess he'd made of her, or her aches or bruises. She stretched out her hand, pulled him in, and laid her head on his chest.
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asadmarveltrashbag · 3 days ago
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dark!stepbro!bucky barnes x stepsis!reader
warnings: +18, dark content, stepcest, unprotected sex, oral sex (m), breeding kink, daddy kink, praise kink, dry humping, degredation, very posessive!bucky
please don’t read if anything makes you uncomfortable!
a/n: pls tell me ur thoughts
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stepbrother bucky spies on you while you change, taking out his cock and spitting on his hand then jerking himself off
As he watches you undress, he can’t help but think of how you would look on your knees, begging for his cock
“Such a good girl, taking her big step brother’s cock in her mouth”
“Your mouth was made for me”
The thought of seeing your bare core causes his body to shake
That sweet pussy, all on display for him and only him
“Tell me who this pussy belong to, babydoll”
And you would say him
Bucky can’t watch for long, anyone could catch him so he takes it to his room
Where he has a special box, filled with your possessions
Bras, panties, and polaroids of you at the pool
He has jerked off to every single item
Screaming your name with his fist around his cock
Wishing he was unloading in your pussy, filling you up with his seed, risking the chance of impregnating you
Making you a mommy and him a daddy, how cute creating a family with you would be
He can’t imagine how you feel inside, the only thing he knew was that he was going to breed your tight pussy
Making you his. Only his, no one else.
Bucky takes a pillow and positions it to his hardened member, he peels his shirt off
His eyes are on the pillow, imagining its you
He pulls his boxers down and begins to hump his pillow
‘You’re gonna take my cock, like a good little whore, right?’
‘Fuck yes, you’re so tight and wet. So wet for daddy’
‘Gonna cum in you, gonna fill you up with my cum’
‘You’re my pretty little slut, all mine, gonna make this pussy mine’
Bucky’s head rolls back and lets out a breathe moan, his thrusts become sloppy
He’s so close to cumming
“Fuck y/n,” he groans, releasing onto his pillow
Bucky hopes you heard him
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nsfwsebbie · 3 days ago
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salvatore. | vi.
series summary. | Bucky Barnes doesn’t believe in love anymore. Especially after the tragic, unknown death of his wife, Natasha. He thinks it’s stupid and a waste of time and- oh my. Hello there, you. There you were, with your notebooks and your novels, writing your heart away. He’s hellbent on saving you from this nasty world, his elusive neighbor that has him under the stupid spell of love. You soon find yourself trapped in a tragic love story with Bluebeard, not Prince Charming.
warnings. | NONCON/DUBCON, dark themes, manipulation, gaslighting, arguments, toxic relationships (reader and steve), cheating, nightmares, violent behaviour? (no actual hitting), spying, voyeurism, stalking, use of cameras, angst, fluff, soft!dark!bucky, protectiveness, obsessiveness, creepy bucky, perversion, + more. 18+, MINORS DNI.
word count. | 2.5k
pairings. | Dark!Bucky Barnes x Reader, Steve Rogers x Reader, Natasha Romanoff x Steve Rogers.
a/n. | i know i haven’t updated in a while i’m really sorry!! please enjoy and don’t forget to reblog!
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“Doll, please calm down. You’re scaring me,” Steve begged, sitting on the bed. “How can I calm down, Steve? Huh? You only just came back, and now you’re going away again,” you spat, crossing your arms. Your stance was almost adorable, but Steve knew that if he made a comment, he’d just push you further away. He couldn’t let that happen. “Why can’t you ask for a vacation, Stevie? We haven’t done anything romantic since my birthday, and that was six months ago.” You turned your back to Steve, and he sighed.
“I’m sorry, Doll, but I have to go save the world,”  he solemnly told you. His voice carried a faux sadness that shouldn’t even be there in the first place. “Bullshit, you have so many more people to do it. Sam, Wanda, Tony—don’t lie, Steve. Why are you going to Sydney? There’s no way you have to travel to another continent to mess up some sort of drug deal. Isn’t that what the police are for?” you questioned him.
Tears stung your eyes. They were ones of anger, but you couldn’t lie. In the midst of them, were sad ones ready to leak, too. Steve stayed silent. “For fucks sake, Steve, you can’t even give me an answer?” you asked in disbelief. You gasped as the tears began to fall. “I knew it, I knew it the whole time,” you whispered under your breath. “Knew what?” he asked, walking up to you. You backed up into the corner of the room.
“That you’re cheating on me,” you mumbled quietly. “What? Baby– no, listen.” He paused to take a deep breath, meant to calm his nerves down. “I don’t want to hear anything, Steve. I know about you and Natasha. All those trips? Those text messages? God, the only person I feel bad for is myself. How could I be so blind to it all?” you shook your head as you spoke. You walked around Steve’s strong figure and headed towards the door. “Where are you going?” He called out, following you behind.
“For some fresh air, I can’t handle this,” you yelled back, but Steve only sped his steps up. “You’re not leaving me, Doll,” he growled, stepping in front of you. “I never said I was, but now you’re tempting me,” you snapped back. “You’re not leaving me, Doll. You never can.” Steve gripped your shoulders tightly, and you winced in pain. “Even if you did, I’ll go to the ends of the Earth to get you back.”
Your eyes shot open. Gasping, you struggled to catch your breath. Your heart pumped like no tomorrow. Each time your chest raised to the highest point, you felt like you had a heart attack. You fell back onto your pillow, and you couldn't care enough about the slightly painful thud that came with it. Nightmares were never pleasant. Though they give amazing writing inspiration, they still were not nice.
Unfortunately, your nights seemed to be filled with them. Every time you fell asleep for the past week, you’d wake up in a panicky mode. At that point, you were okay with settling for a weird dream that resembled surrealistic art. Who wouldn’t want to have a Dali-inspired dream? You rubbed your eyes roughly and could feel the exhaustion in your every movement.
Your phone rang loudly. The sound made you jump in shock, and you reached to your bedside table for it. The screen read Bucky’s name, and you sighed. You answered the phone and brought it to your ear. “Hey, Bucky,” you croaked tiredly. He laughed, and you could hear the exhaustion in his voice. But the sound of tiredness differed from yours. “Did I wake you up?” he asked, and you moaned. “No, I just woke up,” you told him. “Why would you wake up at one in the morning, Doll?” he asked.
“Nightmare,” you breathlessly told him. You could swear on the daisy that began to bloom two weeks ago that you started to feel a weight being lifted off your shoulders. “Talk to me, Doll. Was it bad?” he questioned. “Yeah, it was worse than the previous ones.” You hadn’t even realized that you just spilled your secret. “You’ve been getting them for the past few nights? Doll– I’m so sorry, but you know you can always talk to me, right?”
His words were more reassuring than anything Steve ever said. “I know, it’s just… The nightmares—they’re very personal. You might not understand how scary they are. Plus, I don’t want to bother you,” you sheepishly admitted to him. He sighed heavily. “I understand, Doll, but you can never bother me, okay? I’m the one who’s supposed to feel that way, not you,” he chuckled, just to ease the tension.
“Now, I’m gonna be there in the next twenty minutes. Do you think you can sort yourself out by then?” he asked, and you started to stutter. “Uhm, sure, yeah, sure,” you agreed obediently. “Good girl, I’ll be there in a few.” And with that, he hung up. Your eyeballs bulged out of their sockets at those two words he uttered. Steve never said anything like that. He’d always just nod, even if you couldn't see it.  You simply wrapped yourself in one of your most favourite blankets because changing seemed pointless to you.
There was no way he was not in pyjamas… right?
You turned the lamp on next to you before you could convince yourself that your chair was a monster. Your back was cold but also covered in sweat. You hated that feeling, and your mother always had the best way to describe it. “It’s like heating something in the microwave but failing nonetheless. The outside of it is warm, but the inside is still cold.” She’d tell you as she’d wipe down your back with a towel.
That was before everything went downhill. Before you turned thirteen and before she married him.
You sighed and got out of bed, willing yourself to put the kettle on. Maybe you’ll make some hot chocolate, or perhaps some tea… In your mind, twenty minutes always seemed like a long time. It sounded as though you could get quite a lot done in a third of an hour. The reality always felt like getting ice water poured on you as a method for waking up.
Unless your life was significantly put together, those one thousand and two hundred seconds are equivalent to five minutes. The ceramic lid for the jar clinked as you set it down on the counter. You grabbed two chamomile tea bags and closed the pot with a ‘ping!’. You grabbed two cups from the cupboard and then groaned loudly when you realized that you hadn’t turned the kettle on.
With a flick of your finger, you turned it on and leaned onto the counter. You sighed pretty loudly. Your head fell into the cup that your hands made, and you closed your eyes. You didn’t have a headache, and your eyes didn’t hurt either; you were just exhausted. You sighed once again, and the kettle clicked, telling you the water was done boiling.
Timing was everything, as always. And sometimes “timing” is just a coincidence, just like how Bucky rang the doorbell as soon as the water stopped boiling. You rubbed your eyes and walked to the door slowly, not caring that he may have been standing out there for thirty seconds too long. You opened it—not all the way—but wide enough for him to catch a glimpse of your tired form. “Hi,” he greeted, letting himself in.
Bucky looked around your home as if he was waiting for someone to round the corner with a knife and shotgun. “Nice place,” he said with an awkward smile on his face. “Thanks, even though our homes are formatted the same way,” you chuckled. He nodded, and then a few seconds after, he let out a forced laugh. You looked up at him and gave him a meek grin, and then went back to making the tea.
“I’m so glad I have two bags of chamomile left. It’s like the universe has decided to bless me again,” you breathlessly said. “What was the blessing before?” he curiously asked. “You.” You poured the hot water inside the cups, and then the bags of tea followed. “Honey or sugar?” you asked, and he pointed at the sugar. You passed it to him wordlessly, and the only sounds that filled the room were from your lungs and cups of tea.
“So… Do you want to talk about it?” he asked after a few more wordless moments. “S- sure, thank you once again! You’re so kind,” you sighed as you brought the cup of tea to your mouth. Bucky copied your movements, but just a bit slower. “It was about my ex,” you admitted once you set your cup down. Bucky struggled to keep his eyes from popping out of their sockets at your mention of him.
“It was so similar to an argument we had a few months before I broke up with him… The only difference was that he wasn’t as… terrifying. And yet he still scared me,” you solemnly spoke. Bucky stretched a hand across the counter and placed it on your shoulder. He pleasantly squeezed it a bit, and you were tempted to lean into his touch.
But you just can’t, because Steve is in the back of your mind, taunting you.
“What really happened in the dream?” he asked, and you took another sip of tea. “Well… We were fighting. He had to go away for a while, even though he just came back. He’d always do that; it’s what helped destroy our relationship. He valued his job over me, and also, someone else,” you sadly recounted. Bucky listened in carefully, because he wanted to help out his best girl in any way possible.
“I caught him in his lies because his excuses became so… Inexplicable. I always had that nagging feeling that he was cheating on me with his friend, his coworker. That argument confirmed everything. I couldn’t handle it all being true, so I tried to leave for a walk,” you paused to take a shaky breath. “He got angry and stopped me, and then he threatened me,” you bluntly finished.
Bucky was so glad that his hand was no longer resting on your shoulder because Goddamn was his fist clenched tightly. You brought the cup of tea up to your mouth, and Bucky just watched you as you diverted your eyes away from him. Once you set the cup down, Bucky grabbed your hands. In contrast, his were extremely hot, and yet the flesh one was dry. Yours were a bit cold, but they were soft and a bit dewy. You looked up at him, only to lock eyes.
“It’s just a dream, doll, okay? And it’s in the past, it won’t happen again, our minds can be crazy sometimes, so try not to worry about it,” he whispered lowly, bringing both of your hands up to his mouth. He pressed a kiss on both sets of your knuckles. You nodded softly, and you leaned down to press a kiss on his flesh knuckles in return. You smiled against his skin, even though it was bruised and slightly red. You wanted to ignore the weird feeling of his metal arm against your sweaty skin, but you couldn’t help it.
“Can- Can I do the thing to your metal hand?” you asked him, hopeful that he would say yes. Bucky nodded, with a slight smile on his face, of course. You closed your eyes and puckered your lips just a bit, pecking the metal. His breathing hitched, unbearably so. It was something he would always catch himself doing whenever he’d think about you or whenever he was simply just in your presence. You opened up eyes and looked back up at him, and you could see the way his eyes glazed over.
He let go of your hands abruptly, allowing them to fall onto the marble countertop. His fingers slotted themselves against your cheeks, and he grabbed your face gently. Bucky pulled you close to him, and he smashed his lips against yours. The kiss was messy, but it was full of passion. You kept your lips locked against his, and your fingers carded through his long hair. There was no other movement apart from the way Bucky kept trying to pull you closer and closer.
It was almost like he wanted to merge bodies, minds, and souls with you.
A few more seconds passed, and Bucky eventually pulled away. He rested his forehead against yours, and you exhaled a shaky breath. “Steve… His name is Steve, and I hate him,” you admitted to him, and Bucky kissed your nose. “And I hate him too, doll,” Bucky said before parting ways from you. There was a bit of tea left in his cup, but you had finished all of yours. “Get some rest, okay? Or just close your eyes for a bit. You need it,” he advised, and you nodded. “Thank you, Bucky. I really appreciate you being there for me,” you expressed to him.
“Anything for you, doll, now go tuck yourself in,” he urged once again before walking past you to the door. You placed the cups in the sink, and neither of you looked back at each other. You heard the door shut with a loud echo, and you sighed heavily. Maybe you were going to listen to him. Sleeping in isn’t that bad after all.
Bucky always believed that being vulnerable was stupid. He also believed that opening up was stupid. But, to be fair, he believed that anything involving emotions was stupid. But when it comes to you, he felt the opposite. Maybe vulnerability was good. Perhaps it was exactly where you needed to be for him to finally be able to love you.
And it was then when he realized that he hadn’t been loving you properly. He hadn’t been loving you the way he wanted to love Natasha, and that just ended up with her six feet deep with flowers growing above her body. He needed you, but you clearly needed him more than anything else. Bucky was desperate for you at times, of course, but you matter more to him than anything else.
Bucky looked down at his desk, staring at the single plane ticket that would take him all the way across the state of New York. He hadn’t been there in over a year, and that was when he first learned of Natasha’s promiscuity. Philandering around with his best friend, fucking said best friend in the most memorable locations he had taken her.
He honestly wouldn’t have been surprised if he found out that the reason why Natasha showed up to the wedding venue late was that she was too busy lifting up that poofy white gown for Steve. He thought that by emptying out Pandora’s box when she passed, everything would be okay. That he’d be able to move on without a care, and he wouldn’t have to shed any more tears for her. Bucky won’t. He promised himself he wouldn't.
He just had a few loose ends to wrap up before he made you his. That was all.
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buppybucky · 4 days ago
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disney
PAIRINGS! ex!dilf!bucky barnes x reader
SUMMARY! in which your ex takes you and your daughter to disneyland.
WARNINGS! unprotected sex, 18+ minors dni, public sex kinda, oral (m rec), face-fucking, slight degrading, breeding kink, mentions of alcohol, reader almost passed out.
A/N! celebrate 600 followers with me and ex dilf bucky!
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bucky was on his way over to collect your daughter as it was his week to spend time with her. he told you he was taking her away to disney, you wanted to go but you didn’t want to impose and be rude.
you had your daughters bag packed with all her disney stuff and you had her dressed up beautifully. “mommy hurry oh my god!” your daughter, harlow, whined. “harry, calm down.” you giggled.
she whined louder and stomped her feet. “you act like this around daddy?” you stood up, taking her hand. she nodded and walked downstairs with you. “oh yeah? and daddy lets you?”
she nodded again and sat up on the couch. “and he gets me what i want, he says he’s a sucker for me.” she swung her legs around. you chuckled and grabbed her bag.
“well, daddy’s a sucker for anyone.” you joked as you handed her the backpack and put the small suitcase on the floor. “sometimes i hear daddy say he misses you.” harlow smiled up at you.
you froze before moving slightly and smiling down at her. “well, we all miss what we can’t have, darling.” you said, handing her a donald duck teddy bear. your daughter nodded and sighed.
“but daddy can have you, you always see him!” she protested, getting off the couch. you smiled at her and shook your head. you heard a knock on the door, making you smile.
you opened the door and invited bucky inside. “hey harry! how are you, my petal?” bucky bent down in front of his daughter, hugging her tightly. “i have coffee ready, if you want some?” you offered.
bucky smiled and nodded walking with you. “hey! mommy can come with us to disneyland, right?” harlow ran over to you two. you looked down at her and shook your head slightly.
you poured bucky a cup of coffee and handed it to him. “that’s a great idea harlow.” bucky looked at you with a smirk. you sighed before looking at bucky with a smile. “yeah, no i have work.” you said.
bucky frowned and grabbed your phone. “i’ll call your boss, give you a week off?” he smiled, opening your phone. you hated yourself for setting such an obvious password.
“fine! god i’ll go pack my bags.” you walked off in a huff as you went to your room. you grabbed another suitcase and threw your clothes in it quickly, walking downstairs.
harlow squealed as she hugged you tightly. “you owe me.” you said through gritted teeth as you lifted harlow up. bucky smiled and nodded, grabbing both of the suitcases and bringing them to the car.
if you had to be honest, you didn’t like bucky. you two had ended on good terms but you couldn’t stand being around him. he was so overly affectionate and touchy.
he didn’t make you uncomfortable in anyway, he was just too much sometimes. you were all in the car, harlow was asleep and you were clearly annoyed as you rested your head on the window.
“i know y’don’t like me anymore, but i still wanna try again, y’know, f’harlow.” bucky said, giving you a quick glance. “we already tried, four times, we aren’t right for each other.” you said plainly.
bucky sighed and stopped at a stoplight. “every time, y’left me because of some stupid reason like leaving the toilet seat up, you’re over agitated.” he said.
you chuckled to yourself, realising that he was completely right. “sure, whatever, but we aren’t dating, just friends.” you said, looking over at him. bucky smiled and nodded, starting to drive again.
you all quickly arrived at the disney princess hotel that bucky had booked. you walked into the reception with harlow on your waist and bucky taking the suitcases.
bucky checked in and brought you all up to the room. “i think i should tell you that there’s only two beds so.” bucky smirked as he opened the door. you didn’t care at this moment, you had a cinderella themed bedroom.
it’s like bucky planned it out, because he knew cinderella was your favourite princess. “it’s beautiful.” you whispered as you looked around. “good, y’here for a week.” he said as he dragged the bags inside.
you sat down on the bed and put harlow down. “i think we should sleep and then explore tomorrow?” bucky said as he started putting the clothes away. you nodded and lifted harlow.
“c’mon, doll, it’s time for bed.” you said as you took off her outfit, slightly disappointed that it wouldn’t be shown off. she whined and ran at bucky. “fine, dad can dress you.” you said.
you grabbed a pair of silk shorts and a tank top before walking into the bathroom. you walked back in and got into bed almost immediately. “night love.” bucky kissed your daughters head.
“mommy!” your daughter screamed. you groaned and got up, kissing her head. “goodnight princess.” you said, turning to see bucky in the same spot. you sighed and walked around the bed.
once you got in, you turned away from bucky and cuddled against the pillow. “friends cuddle, y’know.” bucky whispered, tapping your waist. as much as you didn’t want to, your body betrayed you and turned over.
bucky smiled and wrapped his arms around your waist. you put your head on his chest and took in his scent. bucky rubbed your head and kissed your forehead.
the next morning moved quickly, you were all in a rush, trying to get to breakfast, then drive to disney. you were now currently standing in line for the magic tea cups.
bucky bought you too many things that you swore you would pay him back. bucky held you close for the entire time, almost as if you were married again. you felt happy again.
you all came back after a long day of walking, harlow was dead asleep and you and bucky were tired. “how about we get some drinks?” he smirked as he cocked his head towards the door.
you looked down at harlow, there was no waking her up at all. you bit your lip before nodding and walking out with him. “do you have the room key?” you asked before the door closed. “yeah.” he answered quickly.
you two walked down to the bar, where you slung back too many drinks. you were sat at the bar, laughing at an old memory brought up. “i still can’t believe you fell down my stairs in front of my dad!” you choked out.
bucky threw his head back and he erupted in a loud laughter. “i was drunk and your father was up my ass!” he complained, leaning forward. you fell onto his lap in laughter at his stupid you were when you were teenagers.
“we were so good together.” bucky shook his head as he wiped the small tears under his eyes. you nodded and took another sip of your wine. “we were, it’s a shame we had to grow up.”
bucky sighed and looked at you in awe. “i don’t think growing up was our problem.” he whispered, putting the glass of whiskey down. you shook your head and put your wine down.
“it definitely was, bucky, we started dating at sixteen, we were young and didn’t know anything.” you said, shaking the wine slowly. bucky took the glass from your hands, putting it down.
you looked at him and sighed, watching him closely. “age wasn’t ever a problem, doll.” he stood up, standing between your legs. “we outgrew each other, buck.” you whispered.
bucky shook his head and put his hands on your face. “then why do i still love you?” he asked, kissing you slowly. you sighed and pushed him back. “buck, we’re friends.” you shook your head, standing up.
bucky whined and gripped your waist, pulling you in and kissing you again. you gripped his face and pulled him in closer. “bucky.” you mumbled, pulling away.
you looked into his blue eyes and placed your forehead on his. “let me take care of you, please.” he whispered. you licked your lips and nodded, kissing him again.
bucky put his hands on your ass and started walking forwards, while you were walking backwards. bucky gripped your ass, making you gasp. bucky took this chance to slide his tongue into your mouth.
bucky pushed you up against the wall and gripped your ass tightly. “if you two could like.. not.” a preppy teenager spoke from the reception desk. you pushed bucky away and finally took your breath.
“yep, yeah.” bucky spoke as he wiped the side of his mouth, smirking at you. you two walked to the elevators, immediately falling together as if you were both magnets. “fuck i love you so much.” bucky moaned.
your hands found his hair, which you gripped tightly, pulling on the roots. bucky’s hands travelled from your ass to your thighs, lifting one of your legs up to his hip.
the elevator came down and the doors opened, a ding telling you both to pull away and get in. you both walked in and sighed. “wait— shit.” you said, pushing bucky away, who was trying to jump your bones.
“what about harlow?” you asked as you whispered. bucky bit his lip before hitting the highest floor. you got a few floors up before bucky stopped the elevator between floors.
you shook your head and bit your lip. “now i can fuck you.” bucky smirked as he peeled off his shirt, throwing it up. you watched it as it landed on the camera.
bucky pulled off your clothes, following by him and pulled you in close. “you’re still as beautiful as i remember you.” he whispered as he kissed your shoulder.
you moaned softly and gripped his back. “get on your knees, pet.” he whispered, watching you get down immediately. you grabbed bucky’s tight boxers and pulled them down, letting him kick them off.
you wrapped your hand around the base of his cock before jerking him off slowly. “please don’t tease.” he begged, a loud whine leaving his throat. you smirked and kitten licked his tip.
you sucked on it softly before moving your head down. you felt him start to thrust slowly, his tip hitting off the back of your throat and making you gag. tears started to form in your eyes.
you moaned as you gripped his hips, allowing him to thrust into you freely. “fuck baby, i missed your little mouth.” he whispered, throwing his head back with a groan.
you hallowed your cheeks and rolled your eyes to the back of your head, loving the feeling of bucky using you to pleasure himself. “gotta be inside you.” he lifted you up.
you whined and fell back against the wall. bucky pulled down your pants and panties before lifting you up. you smiled and wrapped your arms around his neck.
bucky positioned himself before sliding inside you. you arched your back and moaned out loud, wrapping your legs around his waist tightly. “fuck bucky.” you moaned.
bucky smiled and slowly thrusted into you, moaning out at your tightness. buckys hands found your ass and gripped it tightly. “y’feel so fucking perfect.” bucky slid his head in the crook of your neck.
your hands gripped on his t-shirt, pulling on it roughly. “fuck yes! oh you feel so good.” you moaned. bucky lifted your leg higher, sinking in deeper and bottoming out completely.
you cried out as he hit a certain spot you forgot existed. “bucky!” you yelled as you ripped the flimsy fabric of his t-shirt. bucky smirked at you and kissed you roughly.
you felt a small knot appear in your stomach, making you pull away and throw your head back. “that’s it, you’re so fuckin’ close i can feel ya.” bucky smirked.
you sighed and rolled your eyes to the back of your head, your mind going dizzy. your vision was blurry and you felt useless in your own body. “got ya all fucked out? hm? my dumb little baby looks so good.”
“fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck.” you moaned, clenching against bucky’s cock. the knot in your stomach continued to tighten. “gonna cum!” you screamed as you felt yourself let loose.
bucky threw his head back and moaned. “fuck, you’re milkin’ my cock, baby, so fuckin’ good.” bucky groaned. you bit your lip and watched him fuck your almost unconscious self.
bucky released inside of you, fucking his seed deep inside of you. “gonna make you a mommy again, a sexy mommy.” bucky whispered, leaving his cock inside you.
“i love you so fucking much.” bucky whispered, kissing you again. you smiled into the kiss and looked down at him. “c’mon, we need to check on harry.” you pulled away.
bucky nodded and pulled out, pulling up your panties and your pants. you felt bucky’s cum pool in your panties. bucky pressed the floor button again, pulling up his boxers and pants.
you smiled at him and kissed his cheek. “got ya dick whipped, hm?” he joked as he wrapped his arm around your waist, pulling you in. you squeaked and put your head on his ribs as he walked.
you both entered the bedroom and checked on harry, who was still asleep. “hm, well, shower sex?” bucky asked as he walked into the bathroom. you smiled and walked in with him.
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bvccy · 6 days ago
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Nothing to Despair | 20. In the reflected sky
PAIRING: Soft!Dark!Bucky Barnes x Reader
SYNOPSIS: Bucky and a girl he never met before have to go undercover as married on a mission to Europe. He feels alienated in the modern world, while she goes through life alone and abandoned. Maybe they can find a new home in each other, but she’s not easily convinced.
CHAPTER NOTES: More angst, more smut. Assisted masturbation, creampie, slightly painful sex, sweet dirty talk (from reader) and generally the softest soft-domme!reader ever to be written, reconciliation, jealousy. Also, we get more insight into reader’s thinking and there’s a lot of sadness and dark thoughts. Thank you for all your lovely comments! Beta-read by @offcast-plus1​ <3
WORD COUNT: 6.2k
⸻ [MASTERLIST] [AO3] [TAGLIST]
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I was the shadow of the waxwing slain By the false azure in the windowpane; I was the smudge of ashen fluff - and I Lived on, flew on, in the reflected sky. — Vladimir Nabokov, Pale Fire
He barely managed to get her back in bed, but she was too tired to fight and too sore to run away. Even Bucky had a hard time getting up, managing to wipe down her thighs and wash up a bit before curling back behind her. It was a while, an hour maybe, before she spoke again, to ask:
"What's the point of it?"
"It's a way to get closer to you," he whispered, pressing his lips to her shoulder blade. "Like kissing you. And holding you. And talking to you. And seeing you. That's why you like to be alone, isn't it?" She wasn't speaking or moving but he felt her pause, as if in thought, and then her head turned slightly in a mute question. "If people can't get close they can't hurt you. Is that it, doll?" The girl frowned and turned away again, letting her head sink back to the pillow. "I'll let you in on something: people don't have to be close to you to hurt you."
"If they do it from a distance, at least that's not your fault," she muttered.
"Alright. Why don't you stop talking around it and just tell me what's been bothering you?"
"You. You're bothering me."
Bucky sighed through his teeth and leaned over, grabbing her chin. "You know what I mean."
"It's none of your business," she hissed, throwing him a sharp glare, small and curled up as she was.
"You're my wife now, it is my business."
She instantly regretted saying anything and decided then and there to never do it again. Like every other needy person, he took everything, anything she said, and used it against her.
"Is it so hard to trust me that you won't even try?" he asked with a firmer grip. "You think you've come across worse people than I have? Even without counting Hydra, or SHIELD for that matter. Whatever kind of double-cross you want, I've had it," Bucky rasped, then with half a hesitation added "including from you."
He regretted saying it before it was even out, but searching her face he saw no changes. She kept the same frown and clenched jaw, looking neither hurt nor moved by what he said. She either didn't feel guilty, or wasn't sorry, and though he didn't apologise he softened anyway, hand moving backward to caress her cheek and brush the hair over her ear. Bucky sighed and pulled her back down, with himself slotted behind her again.
"I want to take everything you've got, doll, good and bad. And I want to give you everything I've got, good and bad… That's what marriage is supposed to be," he said as he started running his fingers on the surface of her arm. "Let me help you carry the bad stuff, sweetheart." But she kept quiet. "If nothing else, at least as a friend?" he tried. She didn't even move, except to clench her jaw tighter. "I don't like knowing you're like this, doll. I hate seeing you unhappy."
She could think of a hundred things to tell him; that she was happy before, that she'd be happy without him, that nobody could be happy for very long anyway, and that he should probably worry more about himself as he was the lonely and pathetic one.
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They skipped out on lunch and stayed in bed together. Bucky held her tightly, caressing her now and then, kissing the back of her head, her neck, her shoulder… in the moments of pause between thinking of how he could use what he'd been through to help her. Thinking back to some books his doctor had him read, some strategies he was forced to go through in his therapy, thinking for the first time seriously about what, really, had led him to trust people again, and imagining, at the end of all of it, her loving him back.
She, with her back to him, stared out toward the window at the roiling sea, imagining what it would feel like to jump.
They washed up and dressed for dinner early. Bucky took them to the place she liked best — incidentally the most elegant and expensive — and it was quiet and selective enough for them to speak even in whispers, if they wanted, but she didn't have much to say. Neither of them had had a bite to eat since breakfast, but dinner was difficult for her. She ordered a bowl of soup and spent most of the time just running the spoon over its surface. And he hadn't missed how stiffly she walked, how delicately she sat down — most probably bruised a little bit.
Bucky finished his dinner and spent the rest of the time nursing a glass of whisky. He rested his elbow on the low wall of their booth and braced his temple against a gloved metal index, fingers moving across his lips absentmindedly as he watched her play with her cold food. He didn't want it to be like that, but he couldn't stand it anymore, couldn't keep waiting… however much he'd wanted to. Bucky meant what he said when he said it, during their dance at the hotel: that he would be there for her whenever she was ready. But faced with what that actually meant, he couldn't do it, he couldn't wait. He wanted her, so badly, and now.
"What are you thinking?" he asked in a low voice.
"Nothing."
She was probably thinking that if he'd broken that promise, what else was he willing to break? If she'd been right about him once, what else was she right about? Bucky had hoped he was done with putting his own dark thoughts in other people's heads, fearing what they thought, wondering, guessing — which, as his therapist went to great lengths to explain, would always be worse than the reality. 'Course, his therapist had never met his little wife…
"Would it help to say I'm sorry?"
"No."
"I'm sorry anyway."
"No."
"What?"
"You're not sorry that you did it," she bit back. "You're sorry of the consequences."
"Guess you're right," he sighed. "I'm sorry that you're hurting, doll…"
She looked up just once and melted his cold eyes with one sidelong stare. "You should've thought about that before."
Bucky clenched his jaw and took a breath. "I'll be more careful next time, alright?" he whispered, but she just cringed and looked back down. Next time…
"I want to go for a walk."
"Eat your dinner first."
They did take a long, sprinkled stroll on the deck afterward. She said the cold made her feel better, and walking helped too, so he couldn't complain. By the time they went back down to their cabin, it was late at night. The ship was normally pretty quiet, but it was quieter now than ever, the people around them all asleep. They stepped lightly through their suite and turned on just a couple of lamps, diffuse golden pools decorating the place against a backdrop of shadowed corners and a chorus of wisping sea. Bucky took off just his shirt before he stopped to watch her. She'd already undone her hair and it fell around her shoulders in that way he liked so much. She took her blouse off, then her skirt off gently, and sat down — on her own bed this time, which he didn't like. Before she got to do anything else, he was kneeling on one leg before her. She gasped as his hands gripped her calves, but soon returned to her stoic nature.
"Get up, Bucky," she sighed.
He brought her ankles together in his lap and massaged them slowly, keeping his eyes on hers. "Can I ask you something?"
"Can I say no?"
"You can," he smiled.
She pursed her lips, but finally said "Go ahead, ask. I'm curious now."
"Do you think I like hurting you?"
It took her a second to think it through before she answered. "I think you don't care, either way."
"Maybe I don't care as much as I should, but I do care," he said as he worked his hands slowly higher. "Do you like hurting me?"
"You are not exactly hurting," she narrowed her eyes. He kept watching as if she said nothing, caressing her legs lightly. "You're not being hurt, Bucky." He reached all the way to her hips, still waiting for an honest answer. "No," she sighed, "it doesn't make me happy."
"So what would make you happy?"
"L—"
"And don't say letting you go, because that's not going to happen."
"B—"
"That's not going to happen," he gritted out. "So, what would make you happy?"
She closed her mouth and looked at the space between them, finally considering his question seriously. "I need to think about it," she eventually said.
Bucky nodded and even smiled a little, his large grey eyes crinkling kindly, tired. His hands were now at the garter belt, playing with the suspenders, and he started to undo them one by one, peeling them carefully away from the edge of the stockings. There was a heat back in his eyes. His big rough hand, even the metal fingers, were deft with the little clasps, and it can't have been just from watching her put them on and off so many times.
"You're surprisingly good at that," she remarked in an icy tone as he rolled one stocking down.
"Am I?" he smirked.
"Perhaps not so surprising," she said, right before she kicked him in the chest. He fell back down more out of shock than anything, and then dared to laugh.
"Dollface, what did I do?" he asked from his sprawl.
"I can undress myself," she muttered, walking around him toward the living room. Before she was through the doorway, he had his arms around her waist and pulled her back in. "This isn't helping me do that thinking we just talked about," she growled as she clawed at his arms.
Bucky walked them backwards to his bed, rubbing his face into her hair and moaning at the scent. "Sweetheart… I can't believe you right now," he smiled. "You're not jealous, are you?"
"Over a mouth breathing mountain of manure like you? Never."
"Ouch," he chuckled. "You know the women you're jealous of are all dead, right?"
"Oh, is that so?" she giggled bitterly, and half-way turned around in his arms just to catch a glimpse of his face as she said "So I suppose it doesn't matter what Hamelin and I did before you found us."
His grin turned to a grimace and instantly he raised a hand to hold her chin. "Nothing happened between the two of you," he said with all amusement gone.
"Yes. But it's worth saying it to see how your face fell," she smirked. "And he's dead anyway, so it doesn't matter, right?"
He heaved a breath and shook his head. "That isn't fair, it's… That's different."
She tilted her head back, out of his grip, and smiled sadly. "You're right about that."
His hold was loose enough now that she stepped out of it. She sat back down on the bed and removed the other stocking while Bucky looked at her, still a little angry. "What's that supposed to mean?" he asked, hands on his hips, looking like he could fill half the room with his breadth and outrage.
What wasn't fair? That he'd won her? Would she really prefer that slimy, slippery snake to him? Weaker, smaller, unremarkable, who didn't know her, who could never give her half of what he could, whose mission it was to basically throw her away, who could never protect her or make her happy. A middling agent compared to him, Martin had been no match for Bucky, and Hamelin was no match for The Fist of Hydra, the Winter Soldier — was that it? Was that what she wanted? Was he just too soft? Was that why she preferred the metal arm?
And what did she mean, then, by 'different'? Bucky knew what he meant: his past girls were never a threat to her, they were long gone and he wasn't pining after any of them, so what was she worried about? Meanwhile, Hamelin — or rather, Martin — not only had the chance to take her away but was actually supposed to, and relatively recently too. Just because he was dead, buried, and decraniated, didn't make it any better.
"I meant exactly what you meant," she said evenly, then turned her dour face up to him and sighed. "I want get cleaned up and go to bed."
Her bare feet were braced on the floor, her hands braced on the edge of the bed, and she sat right in front of him in her lacy red slip, one strap off the shoulder, and… asked to go to bed with him. His rational mind said 'no, they weren't done talking', but his body said:
"Yeah, er… sure, g-go right ahead, honey."
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Of course, he didn't know that she'd cheat.
Turning in bed sometime in the night, Bucky expected to wrap his arm around her but instead felt nothing, his hand falling as if through space. Feeling around, the bed was empty and cold. He raised himself up slightly on his arms to look around — her own bed, in front of him, was empty. Looking toward the door, there was no light on in the living room. He looked over his shoulder and finally spotted her: she was sitting by the windowsill, inside of its little alcove, crouched and on her back. Her feet were on the wall of it, her knees cuddled to her chest as she rested her forehead against the window, and looked out at the sky.
As soon as she heard him shift around in bed, she winced and tensed up. Oh no, here it comes. Turning her head and meeting his eyes, she reflexively straightened, sitting a bit higher. He's going to come over, she thought to herself. But he just turned and stretched toward the bed table, grabbing the watch to see the time. It must've been around 4 AM.
"You ok?" he asked through the gruff of sleep as he leaned forward on one elbow.
"Yes," she said, and cringed at the lameness of her own reply.
She'd been enjoying her time alone, at least a little bit. She just wanted to sit by the window and look at constellations again, even if these ones were completely different. But now he was awake and he'd caught her and he was definitely going to come and ask some stupid questions… But he just sighed and stayed mercifully where he was. Even through the dark and distance, Bucky saw the way she looked at him: legs tight, feet bent at the ankles and pointing toward the window, her face half-turned away while she watched him through the corner of her eyes. One didn't need to be a trained assassin to understand. So against his every instinct, he laid back down and turned around so that at least he couldn't see her — nor she him — and pretended to go back to sleep.
She was as surprised as she was grateful to be left in peace, but there was nothing for it now. He'd woken up, he'd seen her, and she couldn't focus anymore on anything other than the chance — the risk — that he could come over any minute now and… And what? Turning back toward the window, she tried to enjoy the view again, but she just kept feeling his presence from across the room, wondering now what he thought, what he felt — it was always like this, this always came with being seen. Everyone just had to have some opinion, and she couldn't help but care, and worry.
This is going to be the rest of my life, she bitterly thought. All her options of freedom, of going where she wanted, of being alone for days, of not having to speak to anyone for long blissful weeks, gone. It's always going to be like this.
Don't you like him even a little bit though?
That's not the point.
He's handsome…
So what?
And he likes you…
That's not true.
She turned to look at him on the bed, his breaths deep and body still, all that hot skin above the covers and lean strong shapes beneath. His hair was a bit ruffled and just beneath the pillow she could see the metal arm curled up, hugging it in sleep. He was so tactile, so instinctively intimate, even after everything he'd been through — perhaps because of it. Bucky deserved to have someone nice… She thought over what he said earlier, 'what made her happy'. She couldn't remember many recent occasions of that, not significant ones at least: sure, a successful report was alright, the heartfelt thanks from a colleague was nice, and finding a favourite cake at a shop, or a set of bonbons in beautiful packaging, or seeing a kitty, or getting to pet one.
But those were just little pleasant moments that went away, they weren't the foundation for anything. And none of them involved any real intimacy — if anything all events of intimacy, from something as distant as just being at a party to being forced to hug someone, all of them left her feeling stressed, and inadequate, and sad, and took hours to recover from. She explored in her mind all the options of giving Bucky what he wanted, his payment for keeping her safe from SHIELD, but she couldn't imagine putting herself through any of it. She couldn't even fake it, the very thought got stuck in her mind. He wouldn't let her get away, he'd made that abundantly clear, and she couldn't bide her time with fake affection until he inevitably got bored of her. All it left her with were awful options: keep being miserable, or make him angry enough to throw her away and end up in prison. Or… ?
How else, how else to survive having to be his wife and give him what he wants when I hate it, I hate him… I don't hate him.
She sunk lower in the window's alcove and loosely hugged herself. The wedding ring nearly touched the glass, reflecting faintly back, and looking at it, she got lost in thoughts of that morning, when he'd made her his. How he looked at her, and how he touched her and held her and talked to her and kissed her, but mostly how he — She couldn't hold the memories for long without having to cover her face completely with both hands, then had to open her eyes and look between her fingers at the wall to distract herself, to stop herself remembering. And it wasn't just the shame of being seen and felt by a man, wasn't just about the utter meanness of him to do it when she told him 'no', wasn't even about losing that part of herself because she'd thought about it, too, with him…
An idea came, and her whole body shivered.
What if he really does like you?
There's no chance of that.
But then, with the cold ring brushing her face, right in front of her, inescapable, she thought of another way through this. She took a vow, after all, and he really was her husband. If she could do it as a job, as an obligation like any other, as a duty… Would it make her happy, to perform a duty? To fulfil of a noble vow, to sublimate it somehow for —
it isn't going to work it isn't going to work it isn't going to work
— for however long it lasted.
She sighed and looked once more at the back of him and, without thinking anymore, let her body raise her up, take her back to bed, and lay her slowly down. The mattress didn't even move as she inched her way to his side. Her forehead barely touched his back, and that was all he was waiting for as instantly he turned and wrapped his arm around her. His leg curled around hers, lips at her forehead for one long kiss, and after he was done, he rested his chin over her head and settled her comfily against his chest with one deep, contented sigh.
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She woke up to bright lights and an empty bed. Cracking her eyes open, Bucky was nowhere in sight, and sunshine was pouring through the window. She checked the phone and saw it was 10:30 AM, and just then she heard noise coming from the living room.
"You up yet, babe?" he asked in a light tone as he wheeled something inside.
"What's that?" she rasped.
He brought it to the side of the bed and leaned down to kiss the top of her head. "Thought we might have breakfast in bed today."
Bucky had let her sleep in and called for room service again. He was clean and shaved and still in a bathrobe, with probably little underneath. And while she didn't exactly like how yesterday's breakfast ended, it was tempting to stay in bed.
"Can I maybe shower first?" she asked, then added "I'll be quick," realising he'd probably waited for her before eating.
"Sure thing, doll," he grinned.
As it turned out, Bucky had a reason for keeping her in bed. After they cleared out the coffee cups and the plates and boring newspapers, he cupped her neck and leaned it back and fell upon her with kisses, inching her own robe away and taking his completely off.
"Left me hungry for you after yesterday, darling," he whispered into her skin. "Wanted to wait a bit more, but…" Kiss after kiss, he worked his way lower as he held her ribcage still.
"Thought you'd had your fill…"
He raised his head enough to grin at her. "I'm just getting started."
"Bucky…" she whined when his hands, fingers spread and teasing, passed over her chest, his lips at her stomach. She had to call his name again to get his attention.
"What is it, doll?" he huskily asked with his mouth just above the surface of her skin.
"I'm still achy."
"Oh…" His hands went back down to caress her sides, up and down in steady motions, as he looked into her eyes and tried to calm his breathing. "It's ok…" he gently said and, as his metal hand settled a bit higher and the thumb moved left and right to tease the tip of her, he offered "Maybe we can try something else, if you want."
She only had herself to blame, and her newly formed and probably doomed dedication to the idea of duty. Two minutes later she was straddling him, one leg bent the other stretched beside him, her chest slightly above his, hands holding on to him by his neck while his teeth nipped at her shoulder. Her still-damp hair stuck to her back, but her front was burning from him. He wasn't doing anything to her, he just wanted to have her there for him to feel on top of his chest and stomach while he worked himself beneath her. His left arm was steady at her back, just in case she slipped lower than she wanted to.
"That's it, sweetheart," he murmured. "Just let yourself lay down on me…" His right arm and shoulder flexed with the movement, and slowly it moved her too, and as she allowed herself to lay a bit more firmly, like he said, the whole surface of his skin was teased. "Bit higher," he moaned, stretching his neck to reach hers with his lips. "Let me kiss you there…"
She pulled herself up the distance and leaned her head back, allowing him to place a suckling kiss over her throat. His teeth just barely grazed it, and she gasped. He felt her tense as if to pull away, and although she didn't move, he whined into her skin in protest.
"It's ok, it's ok," he tried to placate her, to place a few more kisses up and down her neck. "Don't be scared… Don't be scared of me."
She bowed her head and let it sink into the pillow, trying not to hear the sleek wet sounds behind, nor think of what the jerking motions of his arm meant. Each kiss he placed on her came as a surprise, each one made her jump a little, and each of his moans made her wonder if something was wrong, if she was a burden, if she made things worse, but they were only followed by more kisses.
Bucky raised his head from her and turned to whisper in her ear, pleading and hungry, "I need more." She almost turned her head, her cheek brushing his. "Talk to me, sweetheart…" He must've felt her choke, and though his arm didn't stop its rhythmic up and down, he added a more gentle "Can you?"
"I'll try…" she whispered back, still against his cheek and unable to look at anything. Maybe speaking would distract her. "I… I do want you to feel good," and she did mean it, she did want to help him, especially when he was being so gentle, so cautious with her, and of all the ways to be a wife this should be the easiest, right?
"Oh yeah, you do?" he asked with a smirk, and it wasn't necessarily just teasing because the prospect that she wanted him to feel nice, that she might even want to be the reason for it, was both exciting and rather new. And to hear it from her, who was still fairly innocent and untried by any other man, meant there would be a little less artifice there, a little more sincerity.
She raised her head to look at him and bit her lip as she looked into his eyes, nodding mutely at first, before she softly spoke "I do, I want to give you what you want. You're so good, sweetheart, you've been so good to me…"
He inhaled sharply, and though she was so quiet he might not have heard her if he was just a bit further, her words struck deep and stayed there. On its own, his grip tightened on his manhood, and he cradled her closer with the metal arm, feeling her soft and damp across his stomach.
"Is this what you wanted, darling?" she asked as she ran her fingers in feather touches down his neck, the inside of his arm, "You like it when I talk to you?", then up again and down his flexing chest, "you like it when I touch you?" stopping to flick and tease him there and make him moan almost in pain. Then she sunk her nails in and dragged down, breathing through her teeth to ask "Is this what you like?" and through his rambled pleas of —
"Yes yes y…"
— she asked in a cold low voice "You like me?" Why did you ask that?
"Yes, I… f— I love you." Oh no.
She tore her gaze away from his flushed and open face, away from those soft grey eyes that looked pleadingly at her, to look down between them, between their two chests and the parting of her legs, to where his fist was gripping.
"Darling," she cooed in a sudden teasing tone, so low and close and wet he could hear her tongue brush against her lower lip. "Oh just look at that…" With a purr, she turned her attention back to him and tilted her face as if for a kiss but instead only said, with a little pout, "it's no wonder you hurt me."
"I'm sorry, I'm so sorry," he panted and rambled heartfelt apologies, but lower down his arm moved faster, gripped harder, in a lovely simulation of how punishingly tight she'd been, what a perfect fight he'd had with her little body, and how satisfying it was to win. He'd never felt like more of a man than when he conquered her. "I didn't mean to hurt you, doll, I swear I never did…"
"Shhh it's alright," she whispered, cupping his face and brushing her fingers over his cheeks, the circles under his eyes, then smoothing out his eyebrows as she looked lovingly across his whole contrite face.
"I just couldn't… I couldn't help it, you —"
"No, don't say that…"
"You're so — oh s— so pretty, sweetheart, I wanted you, I want you, I couldn't help it —"
"Don't talk like that, Bucky," she begged, holding his face still in her hands as she let herself lay lower on him, her legs spreading just slightly, chest pressed against his, her lips almost to his own. He searched her face, mouth parting just in gasps and moans while he teased the tip of himself with his hand, waiting for her to find the words. "If…" she started with a sigh, and threading her fingers through his hair she looked into his eyes for the courage to admit, "Don't say you can't help it, it kills me, it kills me to think about…" And though he might not have understood, she could see in his face a sympathy with the pain he caught a glimpse of. "Be gentle with me or hurt me or do whatever you want to me, but I want you to mean it, alright? Want whatever it is, with me, just with me…"
"Just with you, doll," he promised, metal hand moving up her back to rest at the nape of her neck and hold her there. "My best girl, my own, my only…"
"Tell me you're mine." Her caressing fingers turned into fists in his hair and pulled his head back.
The possessiveness and pain only served to bring him closer, and through teeth gritted in unexpected pleasure, before her demand was even fully through her lips, Bucky answered "Yes yours, only yours, I swear it."
Her grip loosened in his hair and she rewarded him with a kiss, giving him her lips to soften his sighs against and bite and sip tenderness from, while her hands went down to frame his chest, bracing against his hot broad ribcage that arched with frantic breathing.
"I'm so close, sweetheart…" Bucky moaned, and looked with yearning down at her before he asked "Come closer, higher, let me…"
It was more difficult for her to find the courage for it, but remembering her earlier intentions, she moved up his body just the distance needed for his mouth to reach her chest. She braced her hands against the headboard as she held herself above him, her frustrated womanhood fevering away at the base of his ribs while she gave him more flesh to kiss. And all along her back, the metal arm held her — from moving lower, from moving away, from being forgotten — and it didn't even feel cold anymore. Every now and then it would fall all the way down to her thigh and pull her tighter against him, then go back up and caress the hair away from her neck.
"So close…" Bucky rasped, "so close you for, doll."
Her hand went down to grip his upper arm, feeling the flexing and tension and the hard push and pull, and her mouth, without permission, opened to breathlessly ask:
"You feel that?" She looked pointedly down to him, rubbing herself just slightly against him as her other hand relaxed around the bedframe enough so she could lay against him. "You hear it?"
Bucky looked into her eyes, dazed and blinded with pleasure, but he instantly knew what she meant. "It's beating so fast," he whispered, lips pressing kisses right at the centre of her chest to feel the frenzied flutters. His flesh hand moved in ever wetter thrusts while the metal wrapped itself around her, and holding her chest like a cherished box —
"It's beating just for you."
— he pulled her down and kissed her little heart through her ribcage.
She released a sigh and rested her head on top of his, nails sinking into the hard muscles of his arm, though it did little to ground her because all around her, she felt him. Her skin was teased to scorching, the heavy warm scent of him reached deep inside, whenever she opened her eyes she saw either his ruffled hair or his shoulder or arm or his chest or his eyes, and through it all, that constant backdrop of skin against skin, seeping.
His lips left her chest with a sudden urgency. "Doll, please, I need to…"
"Almost there?" she softly asked, looking in his eyes.
"Need to be inside you," he whispered, gaze flickering down to her parted lips. "Please, doll, tell me I can…"
"Bucky…"
"Just a bit," he husked. "Don't let it go to waste, now…"
"Still hurts", the girl whined, but looked at him as hungrily as he was.
"I'll give you just a little bit, sweetheart, come on… Try for me."
"Alright…" she relented, and allowed him to move her slightly lower.
"Oh, doll…" he moaned when his fingers brushed against her. "So swollen…" She hadn't just been teasing him, she really was still hurting, and he was now even gentler than she could imagine as he moved the tip over, and around, and up and down that dripping heat. "There you go, easy, thaaat's it," Bucky whispered as he eased her down, keeping his eyes on her face for any hint of pain. "Isn't that ok?"
"Yes…" she gasped, looking as ravished as he felt while she bit her lip and blushed.
"Now hold still, honey. So close so close… There it is, there we go, ah f—"
"Bucky!"
He barely slipped himself in her. Knowing he couldn't go any further destroyed him, but he stopped. "Good?"
She bit her lips closed and moaned, but kept looking at him. His flesh hand held him still, while the metal one pet her back to calm her. It didn't take him much, only a few more brushes of his fist along his length, and the contrast of the cold of the room with the heat of her, and within seconds he could barely keep his eyes open as he felt himself empty up into her. He could tell she noticed exactly when it happened too, her eyes widening and that blush heating up her lips and neck. But she didn't move away, she let her body be used.
Bucky swallowed his moans and looked at her the whole time, from the first rush to the slow drip of what was left… When he sensed it was done, he took himself out just as carefully and, with his arms around her, moved the girl back down on the bed. She barely touched the mattress when his lips were on her again, kissing her forehead gratefully and full of love.
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They rested in bed for a while before getting cleaned up. He made sure she was ok, and she slowly felt her breath come back. Bucky arranged them in such a way that her head could rest against his flesh arm, while the metal one caressed her forehead and hips and any place that felt too warm and needed cooling. He tried not to think about the things she'd said, and by the far off look in her eyes, she was trying not to think about them either. If he started to hope now… He'd hoped before, and it never ended well. But there was something there, something just for him. If she could be so jealous and possessive and as murderous as he, in her own little way, at the thought of other women… It made Bucky's heart soar in such a way that any sexual pleasure paled by comparison. At some point, she remembered he was there and staring at her. She looked up at him through her lashes, but couldn't hold his gaze for long. Even looking back down wasn't enough, so she buried her face in the pillows.
"You alright?" he softly asked, brushing her hair away. She mumbled and nodded a bit. "Want some water?" Her face finally came back up, but she didn't seem too sure, and couldn't look at him again either. "I'll get you some."
Bucky got off the bed with almost a spring in his step and went to look through the minifridge. He poured some cold water in two glasses and went back to bed, propping her up a bit, and she downed the whole thing in one breath. The girl laid slowly back down while Bucky drank his own, but she didn't seem so pained this time; just careful… Once he was back with her, arms all around her again, he found he couldn't hold it in any longer.
"You were perfect," he told her. Immediately, she buried her face back down. "You still are."
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bvccy · 10 days ago
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Nothing to Despair | 19. Excuse from pain
PAIRING: Soft!Dark!Bucky Barnes x Reader
SYNOPSIS: Bucky and a girl he never met before have to go undercover as married on a mission to Europe. He feels alienated in the modern world, while she goes through life alone and abandoned. Maybe they can find a new home in each other, but she’s not easily convinced.
CHAPTER NOTES: Here it is! Noncon smut, virginity kink, size kink, creampie, breeding kink, dark!Bucky but still loving, sweet dirty talk, a new fetish for you (cumming while running away; you'll see), and the greatest of all: sex between a married couple in the missionary position for the purpose of reproduction 💕 Thank you for all your support so far, my dears! And thanks to my friend @offcast-plus1​ once more for beta reading <3
WORD COUNT: 3.8k
⸻ [MASTERLIST] [AO3] [TAGLIST]
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The heart asks pleasure first And then, excuse from pain — And then, those little anodynes That deaden suffering; And then, to go to sleep; And then, if it should be The will of its Inquisitor, The liberty to die. — Emily Dickinson, The heart asks pleasure first
She woke up in his arms, feeling warm and held, and didn't pull away. She stretched and sighed and snuggled back in, turning to rest her head against his throat. After last night, his body seemed less different, more like hers. Her lips rested against his skin, not kissing, just pressing in half-sleep, and as she breathed him in she felt all the more at home. Bucky must've been a bit awake as well, as his arm wrapped tighter, pressing her to him, and he bent his leg to make room for hers to come on top. Her knee curled up, slotting her more comfortably against him, but she barely brought it higher before it brushed against a part that made him wince and moan. She almost pulled away, but his other hand came down to pet her thigh, then went to arrange himself to something less uncomfortable.
"Don't be afraid. He's just saluting you," he mumbled sleepily, and she breathed a quick laugh against his skin. "He respects you very much."
"Right…" she giggled, then settled back into a quiet doze.
Bucky's fingers went back to petting, caressing those innocent parts of her he had longed for for so long. Her skin was always warm, but especially so after a good night's sleep, soft and pliant in a particular way, and too loose to tense away. They slipped in and out of sleep and forgot about the time or anything but each other, then kept cuddling once they were both awake. They only got up once they started feeling hungry, and the room felt surprisingly cold outside their bed. Bucky was half-dressed when she got out of the shower, and she eyed him with a curious look as she towelled her hair.
"I don't really feel like going out today," she said. "Is it alright if we have breakfast in here?"
He froze in surprise but recovered quickly. "Sure thing, doll. I'll call for room service."
She dressed in a nightgown and a robe, and went to the living room while he placed the order over the phone. Turning on the TV, there wasn't much to watch. She was still switching channel to channel when Bucky went to sit with her, having put on a fresh pair of pyjamas.
"Forgot to ask if they offer room service for lunch too," he said, wrapping his arm around her back. "We might have to go down then."
"That's alright," said the girl, yawning, and settled on the sports channel that played a quiet game of snooker.
"Sleepy today, sweetheart?" Bucky asked, pulling her against his shoulder.
"Just don't think I can stand to see people again. It's so tiring."
He smiled and kissed the top of her head. "Too many screaming kids?"
"And fat ugly men in shorts. And the women too. And teenagers pretending to be drunk."
"You would've felt right at home in the 40s," he chuckled.
"Well, I don't know about that…"
There was a knock on the door and Bucky got up to answer. It was their breakfast, coffee and yogurt with fruits and cereal. He rolled it over to their couch and sat back down.
"Why don't you think so?" he asked when they were both cradling their cups of coffee.
"I think I'm a bit too much of a troublemaker."
"Can't argue with that." he grinned.
And she chose not to point out that he probably wouldn't have given her a second glance back then, saving him from having to lie to deny it, and in a way she didn't mind — she still wished he hadn't given her a second glance now; just because she was content with being captive didn't mean she didn't wish to be free.
They ate their breakfast slowly, watching the television while thinking their own separate thoughts, and gradually snuggled closer to each other until her legs were slung across his lap and his fingers stroked her knee. By the time it was 10 AM, they were even more lazy and melted into each other than before, at a time when they would normally start to think of where to go to lunch.
"Still sleepy, doll?" he cooed.
"Mhmmm"
"Wanna go back to bed?"
She nodded heavily.
"Wanna go back to bed with me?"
She raised her head and looked into his eyes but didn't say anything, and he took it as a yes. Bucky kissed her forehead and turned the television off then lifted her straight up in his arms, carrying her back to the bedroom. She squeaked a bit and kicked her legs, but he had them back in the sheets within two minutes. He laid her down first and crawled on top of her, his hands stopping straight at her face to hold it still for him to kiss, his lips sliding against hers, then going down to her chin and up to her cheekbones then kissing each closed eye. He moaned as he went down to her neck and kissed the hollows there.
"How do you always smell so sweet?" he sighed into her skin.
"I think you're just imagining it," she giggled, running her fingers down his shoulder.
"No, no, you do…" he said, kissing lower, then trailing his lips along her collarbone. "You always smell so sweet for me."
He sat up long enough to take his shirt off, then went back down on her, his fingers slipping between the straps of the gown to pull it just off her shoulders, but she was already sighing and wriggling under him, still uncomfortable with his kisses however soft.
"I'm not in the mood for it today…"
"You're never in the mood," he muttered.
"Well, yes."
"If I put my fingers between your legs, will I find you wet?"
She froze beneath him, and he did too, curious about what she'd say.
"That's not fair," she grumbled.
"Oh," he laughed, "is the little spy going to tell me about what's fair?"
She stared down at him, feeling caught all over again, and felt a freezing strain lock up her body. "Do you ever wonder…" she started, "what that says about you? Of all the women in the world, you had to pick the Hydra plant. Is this your way of turning around what happened to you? Getting revenge?"
"No, it isn't," he growled from right above her heart. He only had himself to blame for bringing it up, but he hadn't expected it to hit her as hard as it did — or did it?
"Then why can't you just find some other girl? Someone who could love you."
— it didn't, she was just using it as another attempt to drive him away.
Bucky took a deep breath in and settled his knees on either side of her, coming up with a slow exhale to grab her face and look into her eyes. He had the instinct to strike back at her, to tell her she wouldn't know anything about it — how could she, when she wasn't capable of it, when she didn't know the first thing about falling in love, coldblooded calculating viper that she was — but aside from not wanting to hurt her, he didn't want to lie.
She clearly knew what loving felt like, he'd seen it in her eyes and felt it coil in her body at just the memory of that childhood crush by the fountain. Bucky had never felt for someone else what she still felt all the way from childhood, had never loved so completely that the years made no difference, that the ten thousandth day burned as brightly as the first and the mere memory of a face or voice would shake him to the core. Not with any of the dames he remembered, at least. He thought he felt for her that way, and would carry it the way she did — and if she could brave the indifference of her boy-crush, he could brave her little thorns.
"Don't care about being loved," he said instead, calmer but still smouldering. "Gave up on that long ago, and not just 'cause of how you are."
"What's that supposed to mean?" she bit back from where she was sunk into the pillows, a bit afraid but still offended.
"How hopeless you are. How you don't trust me," Bucky sighed, and lifted a hand to brush her hair behind her ear. "No, I'd given up before I even met you, doll. And you certainly never gave me cause to hope, except when… No, all I want now is just to love you. And if you won't let me…"
She didn't have time to brace for him to let her go, as if throwing her, though they were both still on the bed. His hands went underneath to grab the hem of her nightgown and pull it up, and though she grabbed his wrists, Bucky just yanked it harder, finally pulling it off and throwing it away, leaving her to fall back in bed dizzy and dishevelled. His hands went to her waist next to pull her panties down, and once she realised that, she was back at clawing at him, trying to argue with him or bargain or plead, but all it took was for that metal hand to wrap around her neck and push her down.
"Be good, and I won't hurt you," he growled, staring back at her furious but docile gaze. In spite of herself, she let him inch the lacy scrap around her hips, down her thighs, and all the way up to her knees from where they could slip down.
She burned with anger at him, and of shame at being seen, and of the deep discomfort of seeing his towering figure half-naked. Her hands rested against the metal wrist, but didn't move. She kept her eyes on his as he scanned her body in the daylight, taking in greedy eyefuls of his wife, her heaving chest and lovely legs and those hips he wished to stroke and hold, and the tuff of hair between. She crouched and moved her legs away, but he grabbed one knee and moved it back.
"No…" she nearly hissed.
"Open for me," Bucky muttered, eyes still fixed on her body as he moved her leg back and up, and sighed at the view.
He let go of her enough to pull his own pants down, and even through the metal he could feel her struggle more, breathing harder, squirming, before hope left her. He watched the shock bloom on her face as she caught a glimpse of him, then she blushed and closed her eyes tightly, nails scraping against the plates of his arm. Bucky didn't risk releasing her, so he brought the pants just down to his knees, shuffled in place between her legs, and let go of her neck only to grab her wrists with both hands.
She felt the heat of him all over, and his breath fanning over her chest as he looked down at the two of them. His legs held hers open, and suddenly she felt something brush against her, right on top of her mound, then move up, higher, against her skin, and heard him groan at the sight. If she could crawl more into herself or sink into the bed, she would, but all she could do was keep her eyes closed and turn her head toward shoulder while she let him play with her. He moaned her name and showered her with kisses as he moved down, and took one hand away to bring himself right to her softest place, making her jolt with the hard, wet, unusual feeling. By now, Bucky was trembling as much as she was, and though she kept whispering for him to stop he kept pressing, moving, searching for that opening into her body.
He slotted himself, just at the edge, then brought his hand back up to hold her. The sound of their panting filled the room: hers in anger, his in desire. She bit her lips, bit her nails into her thumb, and though she tried to close her legs all she managed was to make for him a narrower corridor. She felt him move against her and felt herself throb in response, and part, and then she heard his broken moan as he went ever so slightly deeper, still barely inside at all.
Bucky placed a kiss against her tight lips then moved down to kiss her cheek and neck before he sighed in pleasure. She pulsed against and around him a mix of pain and urgency, and even at just the edge of her, he felt ready to burst and had to stop. He paused enough to catch his breath, and though she still tried to push him out, he felt her seeping all around him.
Pushing in another bit, he made her wince and immediately stopped again, but couldn't help the feeling of wonder that her body gave him. How different she was here, this which she kept from him all this time — soft where she seemed so hard at the core, and feverishly hot where she wanted to seem cold, and generously weeping, and even her tight firm closeness seemed now not a barrier to him, but a protection for her, for the tender thing inside that could not defend itself and which she saved, perhaps, for no one, but which was now his to have.
He pressed in deeper and felt her choke, then deeper still like a sudden stab, and though his teeth were gritted in restraint, he moaned her name again, as soft and loving as he wanted, because she really was his now and she had nowhere else to go.
"You're thinking," he panted, staring at her while he waited for both of them to relax. "What are you thinking about?"
"Nothing."
"Don't lie. Open your eyes. Look at me."
"Don't make me…"
"Look at me," he whispered, leaning down to kiss her lips.
"Why?"
"So you can see how much I want you."
She didn't seem convinced but her lashes fluttered open, just slightly, and, after blinking away the tears, turned to look at him. Her eyes were glazed over and sad, mouth pulled down and bitten almost bloody, and though he tried to make love to her, she seemed prepared to be thrown out at any second. Bucky just smiled down at her and braced his knees against the bed for another tenuous press between her legs. Her lips parted in a gasp, and he was smitten all over again. He grinned and leaned down for another kiss, short and sweet the way she liked them, and pressed inside once more. He only stopped once her back arched with a pained groan, and she begged.
Bucky rested his head against her shoulder and sighed into her skin, their chests rubbing together, damp and sensitive. He wasn't half-way in yet, and already it felt like she was trying to eat him alive. No amount of kisses to her neck or pettings to her thigh helped her relax, and he worried that if he felt her pulse much longer against his love-starved manhood, he'd finish before the first full thrust.
Bucky brought one hand up to her breast and held it gently, then moved a finger over the tip —
"No no no it's too much…"
— just once before she grabbed his thumb in her fist and pulled it away.
"I love how tight you are, sweetheart, but you have to relax," he whispered against her lips.
"No I don't," she whined, and shook her head at feeling him try again. "You don't have to," she said with barely a sound, "you don't have to, you don't —"
"I do, I want you, you don't know how much…" said Bucky, one hand still on her wrist, the other coming up to cup her cheek. "Wanted you for so long, still want you, feels like I'll never reach you…"
He tried once more, moving up almost completely and conquering the distance left, making the girl gasp and cry into his chest at the burning, bruising pain, as he went through her clenching womanhood and settled into her.
"That's it…" he moaned, staying firmly inside, leaning down to pant into her neck, "open up for me."
"It hurts me," she gritted out, "stop."
Bucky looked down at her with cold, calm eyes, and tilted his hips until he saw her face light up.
"That hurt too?" he asked with a smirk, moving to rub against a hard little part of her while he kept her stretched, trying uselessly to push him out.
"Stop stop stopstopstop," she muttered, pressing one free hand against his chest, skin clammy and hot and slippery by now, but he listened.
She relaxed back into the bed and Bucky let her catch her breath, holding himself up to look at her, at all the skin on view and the new emotions flashing on her face, and he was so grateful that he was the one to see it all. He pecked a few more kisses on her lips and pet her cheek, her brows, the line of her hair, all through the hot tense throbbing. She whined once more, but through the pain there was a little pleasure, a more relaxed parting of the mouth, and a less hateful glare.
"Is it better now, sweetheart?"
"No," she pouted, but he could tell she wasn't too badly in pain anymore, and couldn't help but grin.
"How about now?" he whispered hotly, pulling back then thrusting again, slowly, and stopped at the height of one plaintive cry. "Easy… easy, darling, there you go…" said Bucky, settling back in and caressing the side of her face. "You know I don't like hurting you, doll, so don't pretend it hurts more than it does."
"I'm not, it's just…" she sighed, flexing her feet against the sheets, not able to get a grip on anything as he pinned her. "It's just too much," she finally said, looking down at his chest then back up to his eyes, frowning in discomfort and fear.
He smiled and bit his lip. "You're just not used to it," he said, moving one arm down to cradle her waist and arch her closer to him. "You're so warm, sweetheart. Perfect little body…" he groaned into her throat, pressing for a second even deeper. "Just want to make you happy," he sighed, lifting his head to kiss her and swallow her moans, "make you feel good, get you pregnant…" Bucky felt the breath stop dead in her at that, but he meant it. He wanted her to have his children, and not just as a sexual thrill.
He was just at the third thrust and already felt himself unravelling. Pulling all the way back, he kept his eyes on hers and pressed back in, through the muscles that had relented just a bit more, out of exhaustion more than pleasure, and then kept going as far as he could reach, as deeply as it took for her body to understand — and her mind, too.
"You're trying to close up tight but I'm in the way, aren't I?" he said, smirking, but the sight of her face softened him toward her, and unbidden the words came out, "I love you."
"Liar," she hissed, suddenly incensed and feral. "Stop saying that." Her hands slapped against his chest and she sunk her nails into the skin, as deep and mercilessly as she could. Within two seconds, Bucky covered her mouth with his flesh hand, muffling her angry shouts, and his other hand wrapped itself in her hair, not very gently but not hard enough to hurt her, and with both hands pulled her head up and made room for himself to press his face against her neck.
"You won't call me a liar anymore." Her hands were at his wrist now, trying to pry him off, and taking advantage of her distracted state, he thrust in, harder then before. "You'll be a good girl and take it." And soon, a smirk grew on his face as he felt her give a rush of wetness at what he just called her. He noticed her blush darkly too at being caught, though she never would admit it. "That's it..." he groaned, his eyes fixed on her face as he played with her again, "that's my good girl..."
She shivered now and squirmed with a different sort of trembling, like a wave ready to crash, and he felt her thighs tense against his hips while her hands clung to the bed.
"Just like that, sweetheart" he cooed, moving his eyes down to her slightly parted mouth and then back up, "open up for me…"
One more thrust and the sight of her blushing and surrendered was all too much. He took his hands away from her and braced them on the bed, trying to take it slower, make it last, but he'd waited for so long and... 
"Oh f— darling, good girl, that’s it... "
All it took was five minutes between her legs, and a couple of thrusts, and humiliating as it was, all his efforts to hold back were drowned by how good it felt for his desire to finally find a home as he spilt himself, again and again, right against her core. Bucky grit his teeth and felt the whines and moans bottle up at his throat, because he couldn't let her hear them, wouldn't — he was used to being quiet anyway, and he didn't want her to have the knowledge of just what she did to him.
She gasped at the sight, at the plaintive look in his eyes, and she wondered absently what that steady twitch inside her was, strong and rhythmic like a heartbeat — before she realised just what it was, what his body was doing…
And the fullness of the thing shocked and disgusted and scared her so much she slipped up from underneath him in his satisfied, distracted daze. She pulled herself off the bed and stepped onto the floor, leaving him there with the sheets down to his thighs, sweaty and parted, his eyes still following her from beneath his ruffled hair, cold and burning and completely intent on her, but spent.
She could only get two steps away, and managed to brace herself against the nightstand before she looked at him again. And from the echo of him rubbing all along her, and the new feeling of him seeping out, dripping rich and blood-hot, she felt herself finally succumb: womb and legs gripped by frissons that built up and faded in the air around her, so shattering as if her body teased itself from the inside in delight at being loved and wanted and conquered, and so strong she barely stood up through it.
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91 notes · View notes
boxofbonesfic · 11 days ago
I keep having seriously dirty thots about Bucky and his little Bunny 🥵
Like just imagine how fucking hot they get for each other. There's something seriously arousing about that wild, feral, bloody fucking.
Shit. I done fucked myself up again.
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god, and you just know he loves to bite.
Bucky doesn’t like to stay in one place, that much you’ve learned in the uncountable days since you saw the moon for the first time. Really looked, really saw her cold, bright fury as Bucky sliced your soul to ribbons and sewed it back up again.
“Time to go, bunny.” His voice is soft and dark like the blankets he’s wrapped you in. You’re on the floor in front of the fireplace, and it’s not even morning yet. You can feel the rasp of his beard against your skin as he peppers your bare back with kisses. “No,” You murmur in protest, turning back towards the heat blazing in the hearth. Sharp, sweet, stinging pain makes you whine—your blood is coppery on the air, and you feel his tongue bathe the broken skin at your hip. His teeth find you again, sinking into the meaty flesh of your ass as you feel his cock pulse hard against your leg. “No, rabbit?” He repeats, dragging his canines over the curve of your ass. You’re not sure if you’re still wet from the last time he took you, or if this slick is new and fresh, but your core pulses hungrily all the same. And when he seats himself inside of you, his teeth locked into your throat, your “no” becomes a cacophony of yes, yes, yes.
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nsfwsebbie · 11 days ago
Text
the nearness of you.
summary. | He’s close, almost too close. Just suffocating you, not letting you have one ounce of freedom. But he’s only sitting across from you. So why does the nearness of him hurt so much?
warnings. | Noncon, exhibitionism, orgasm denial/edging, dark themes, breaking and entering, stalking, obsession, use of vibrator, mentions of panty sniffing, mentions of male masturbation, sex fantasies (choking, sadism, penetration, oral, breeding, etc...), drinking, and more. 18+ MINORS DNI!
word count. | 4k
pairings. | Dark!Bucky Barnes x Reader.
a/n. | happy birthday @threeminutesoflife! i hope you have an amazing day and that you enjoy yourself. thank you for being such a good friend. happy birthday, ily! please enjoy, and please don’t forget to reblog! if you take ANY inspiration from my fics (and i’ll know, trust me) and you don’t give credit, you will be blocked and i’ll let others know.
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He’s close, too close.
Though the table is around a metre and a quarter in width, you feel like you’re suffocating.
“How’s your wine? Hope it isn’t too much. Expensive things usually mean the creators overdo it,” he chuckles briskly. Yeah, he’s right. “No, it’s fine… It’s just that I’ve never tried something like this,” you admit to him, wringing your hands. They’re cold, yet they have a sheen of sweat covering them. You wipe them over your dress a few times, but it doesn’t seem to solve your predicament.
“Me neither. I honestly prefer beer over this!” Bucky exclaims, even though he tilts the glass back and chugs the wine. “Hm.” Your plate is empty. You find appetizers to be stupid—what even is the point of them? They fill you up for two seconds and just leave you to be even hungrier. “It sounds stupid; it really does, but is it weird that I drink for the taste? I can’t get drunk, but there’s something about the taste that makes me want to grab another beer,” he chuckles, setting down his glass.
“It’s uh, it’s not weird at all. Makes sense, to be honest,” you smile at him. He flashes an even more giant grin, staring at you for a bit before you look down. Your reflection is warped. The circles of the plate are faint; they’re from the hands of the crafter, and you find it so interesting how dishes are made. You’ve taken a pottery class once—it was fun—but the lopsided green bowl you made and painted no longer exists. It fell from a shelf and broke into tiny little pieces.
Maybe because it was too close to the edge.
“Remind me to never come here ever again. I didn’t pay over two hundred dollars for the service to be this slow,” Bucky laughs, and you shake your head. You know he’s just being lighthearted, but it’s still wrong of him to say such things. “Well, it’s busy, Buck. They just can’t rush things,” you remind him. “I know, but we’ve been sitting here for over thirty minutes!” he reasons, and you fight your hardest to not smile.
“How about we play a game to pass the time?” he proposes, and you nod. “Sure, it just depends on the game,” you tell him. Your hands rest on the table, and you can feel an old lady cast a glare towards you. “I spy, have you ever played it?” he questions, tucking a loose strand of hair behind his ear. “I have; it was my favourite game to play on road trips,” you recount to him, grabbing your glass of wine again,
This time, you only take a small sip.
“Okay, well… I spy with my little eye, something that is dark red,” he starts. You’d say the wine, but that’s too obvious. You look around the restaurant, trying not to be too obvious. “Hmm… Is it that lady’s hat?” you ask him, nodding your head in her direction. He looks her way but then turns back to you with a frown on his face. “Sorry, doll, it’s just right under your nose,” he hints. You look down, just to be faced with the glass of wine.
“I knew it. That was my first guess!” you exclaim, gripping the stem of the glass. You swirl the liquid around and watch as a cyclone forms inside the drink. It spins and spins, just like those black and white strips that hypnotize you. “Since you lose, I’ll have to punish you,” he smirks, his voice dropping just a few octaves. You look up at him in shock, not liking what he might be implying. You barely even know him—he’s never been to your house, and you haven’t spoken to him other than on the phone and on dates.
“Look-” you start before he cuts you off with a laugh. “I’m just playing. All you gotta do is finish that glass of wine,” he tells you, his eyes a bit glassy and dark. “Oh, my bad.” You pick the glass up and bring it to your lips, swallowing all of the wine as Bucky watches you. Not a drop is left-back, and you feel proud of yourself. “Good girl,” he mutters quietly. The sound of chatter that reverberates throughout the restaurant hides his words, and he’s thankful.
Dim lighting that is the same colour as the sun that sets on the horizon at around seven-something in the evening. There are more shadows in the room than anything, and the darkness hides his wandering eyes from your careful ones. The floors are made of sleek wood, possibly oak or something else. Clearly not suitable for dancing, which is why he believes it’s idiotic for them to have a miniature orchestra playing Beethoven and Tchaikovsky.
“Let me get someone to bring another bottle, that way, we can have more fun,” Bucky proposes, and you hesitate in agreeing with him. If you drink your heart away, the night most definitely won’t end well. Before you can even reason with him, he’s lifting his arm up and signalling a waitress to come by. You burn out the rest of their conversation, ears on fire and your mind buzzes.
The vibration spreads throughout your body, down to your toes and even to your pussy. You’re ashamed, but it’s something you must get used to. Whenever you get drunk—or, well, whenever you drink alcohol—you get a bit… frisky. Your skin turns hot to the touch, and you need to touch something or someone to keep yourself stable. Some of your friends think it’s funny and laughable, but your past flings have always thought it’s cute.
You’re never sure what it truly is.
You watch as your glass is filled up with more wine, all the way up to the brim, and you realize that you could really go for a fancy meal right about now. “Thinking about that food? Me too. Should’ve asked the waitress. But I suppose this wine will do us good until then,” he chuckles, and you can feel the tingling between your legs begin to intensify. Almost like your well-loved toy, there’s a slight vibration that shouldn’t be there. But you suppose it’s just the wine—because it always is. Right?
Warmth fills your core, and you’re a bit flushed. Sweat begins to build upon your back like a thin layer of silk. Your clit pulsates a bit, and you can feel yourself getting wetter and wetter by the second. Your head rolls a bit, only a little bit. You squeeze your thighs together and wiggle them around, trying to alleviate this new ache that just seems to get worse and worse. Closing your eyes, you sigh and try to compose yourself.
“Your turn,” he tells you, and you nod. You look around, trying to find something to settle your sights on. The vase that stands on the lectern where the hostess sits catches your eye, and you smirk. “I spy with my little eye… Something made of porcelain and is black,” you tell Bucky before grabbing your glass again. You tilt it only slightly because it’s already so full. Red alcohol slips past your equally as bloodied lips, and you ask yourself why you don’t drink wine more.
He turns himself entirely in his chair, and you’re sure he’ll never figure it out. “Is it that vase over there?” he asks, pointing at it with no shame. “Yeah, it is,” you tell him, and he smiles at you. He doesn’t turn around, and he keeps looking at the vase. The back of his hair isn’t as gelled as the top, and you’re not sure how to feel about it. The back of his suit is slightly wrinkled—folds and crease lines that could use a good ironing. The shirt is too tight for him, and so is the jacket. It seems a few years younger than your dress, and curiosity comes around the corner.
“When’s the last time you’ve been on a date?” you question, setting down your glass of wine. Your ears, they burn. White noise fills the room, and you wonder if people have stopped talking or if the orchestra has started to play louder. He turns back around, his face stern and stoic. “Few years, what about you?” he asks in return, placing his hands in his laps. He stares into your eyes—and though you can’t see it too well—you can feel it. “Same. Same thing.” You pick your glass up again, and you realize that it’s halfway finished.
You want more. More wine, more love, more space.
But he feels closer than ever. Almost as if the table has shrunken, and he’s tucked himself in so much that his lungs have barely any space to expand. Almost. “More wine? Take it, take it all. I should probably try to sober up, chauffeur’s responsibility,” Bucky jokes, and you laugh dryly behind your cup. The buzzing—tingling—whatever it is, it’s intense. Wetness pools in your panties, and you’ve soaked the black cotton. The pair is new, and it kind of hurts to have them ruined already, but it’s not the end of the world.
You drink, and you drink until there’s nothing in the glass anymore. Your other hand grips the edge of your dress, and you set the cup down. “Easy there, tiger, everything okay?” Bucky asks, tilting his head innocently. He licks his lips, wetting them before flashing you a kind smile. “Yeah, low tolerance, that’s all,” you inform him, waving your other hand. You sit a bit further back into your chair, not caring that it doesn’t look good. You shut your eyes again, and darkness fills both your vision and mind.
Bucky, on the other hand, has a vivid movie projecting in his mind.
His metal hand wraps around your throat as Bucky’s cock thrusts in and out of you gently, only half of himself inside you. You’re begging him so sweetly, “please, Bucky,” and he just can’t say no to that fucked out face of yours. “Shh, it’s okay, doll, I’m gonna fuck you so good, okay? You better be grateful,” he tells you, and you nod fervently. He slowly pushes inside you, and you’re gripping him tightly. “Fuck, you feel so good, baby,” he groans in your ear. Your back arches off the bed as Bucky splits you in two, and it’s so overwhelming.
He squeezes your neck tighter, and he pulls you towards his cock. “Don’t try to run away, baby; I’ll always catch you,” he warns, and you nod. His tip nudges your sweet spot, and you cry out in pleasure. Wetness gushes from your stretched-out hole, and you coat him with stickiness. You feel as though the wind is being knocked out of you, and you struggle to catch your breath. “Fuck, I can’t wait to fill this tight pussy with my seed. Gonna knock you up with my baby,” he moans, beginning to thrust in and out of you. He brings his face down to yours until your noses touch.
He’s close, way too close.
You look up at the clock that you swear you’ve seen at Walmart a few months ago. Or was it last week? You’re not sure, you don’t fully know anything as of now, and it’s just a tad bit terrifying. You bring your left leg over your right, crossing them so that the pulsating pleasure between your legs can go away. It’s a low hum, one that you’d love if your goal was to tease yourself. But that’s not what you want. You want space. “Everything okay, baby? You’re looking a bit… troubled, over there,” Bucky questions, leaning forward.
He places his face in the palm of his flesh hand, and the metal one rests on the table. “Just a bit hot, I guess. But this always happens when I drink, I’m fine,” you inform him, and he nods in understanding. The restaurant is nearly empty, and you’re not sure where everyone went. And your food still hasn’t arrived yet. “You sure? You don’t look too fine. Is it the chills? Those are common during this time of the year, especially when it gets cold at night,” he reasons.
You shake your head and stick your hands up the slit of your dress, pressing them against your soaking pussy. You’re too focused on the pleasurable feeling of your hand to notice the slight vibration on your palm. You press the base of your hand against your clit, and you struggle to hold back a soft moan.
“Wonder if they forgot about us; seems like we’re the only ones here,” he ponders out loud. You don’t take in his words properly, and you don’t pay attention to how empty the restaurant is. You can swear it’s always been this void, and only the music has gotten louder.
“Finish your glass of wine, and I’ll go inquire, okay? Maybe that’ll help out,” he tells you before moving to stand up. “No! No, don’t. It’s not… proper. They’re busy. Sit down,” you snap, your jaw shaking because you’re just a tad bit fed up with his impatience. You don’t feel bad at all because he’s had it coming this entire evening. Bucky stares at you as you take your hands out from between your legs, and you grab your drink. He stuffs one of his hands into one of the deep pockets, feeling around for something. You tilt the glass back and finish the wine inside, and Bucky sighs.
“You’re right,” he says, walking back to his seat. He sits down before scooting himself to the side of the table. The vibrations have gone away, but you’re not sure why. Maybe you’re just getting used to the alcohol. Or perhaps it’s something else. “Sorry for being so… abrasive,” you apologize, gathering yourself and putting the broken pieces of your resolve back together. “No, I get it. Being so on edge gets me like that too,” he smiles before looking down at his new leather shoes. They shine so nicely, he can see the light.
But it doesn’t compare to a certain sheen he saw a few months ago.
You tend to present yourself as put together for the sake of the lack of disappointment in your peers. When someone comes over, you shove all your belongings into a closet and hope for the best. You’re not a total slob; you just get busy and tired quickly. He’d take the liberty of cleaning your place up, but then his plan would be ruined, and he’d have to do things he doesn’t want to do just yet. Yet.
So he tiptoes between the Amazon boxes and grocery store bags that take up more space than your furniture, careful to not touch anything. The garbage that litters your home makes him feel like he’s suffering for breath, as if the walls and the ceiling are too close to each other. He gently pushes the door to your bedroom open, and he’s quite frankly surprised. The room is spick and span, not one thing out of place, and you’ve just made reaching his goal a lot easier.
His shoes have no dirt on them, so he doesn’t have to be careful when treading your overly large carpet. No large jumps and no need for gloves either. He doesn’t want to look at the pictures that hang up on your wall or any notebooks that are being squashed beneath your mattress. You’ll show them to him in your own time. Bucky heads straight for the dresser, where the drawers hold your undergarments and other little wants and needs. He pulls the left one open—because he knows it has your panties and the right one holds your bras and lingerie.
He only has this information because he’s seen you accidentally wake up late and rush to get ready one too many times. An alarm clock that actually works could do you good, but Bucky would much rather wake you up with his face between your legs or maybe some soft kisses on your body. Or maybe even with a stack of pancakes coated in sugar syrup with berries and juice on the side. The possibilities are endless, and he just can’t wait to finally meet you and ask you out.
He stares into the drawer, searching for a specific pair of panties. They’re a mix of black lace and cotton, with a small red heart that would rest on your hip when you put them on. He doesn’t want to go digging and searching in your drawer because even though you’re a mess, you’re not stupid and oblivious. And that fact pains him. Sure, he could easily fuck you until you’re dumb and naive, nothing but his girl, but how long will that last? You’d see through every facade of his.
Grumbling, Bucky slams your drawer shut, not caring that some things in your room are shaking from his sudden outburst. He doesn’t take the time to do one of those breathing exercises his therapist constantly reminds him to do, and instead, he struts to the laundry basket. It’s filled to the brim and struggling so hard to contain everything inside. It’s just a tad bit sad, really. You don’t have anyone to take care of you, and you don’t seem like you’re making an effort to learn. Sitting on top of the dismal pile of clothing is that pair of panties he’s been so desperate to touch.
He slowly reaches out to grab them, almost as if he’s about to touch something God made especially for him. He eventually makes the jump, swiftly holding them by the band and bringing them up to his face. You only woke up and left an hour ago, and he shouldn’t be surprised, but he is. Your panties shine and glisten with wetness, possibly from some sort of wet dream or wild thoughts. He wonders if you touched yourself because the mess is so big. But the details aren’t too important to him now.
Bucky bunches them up and brings them closer to his nose before inhaling your sweet scent deeply. Blood rushes down to his cock, plumping it up and turning him harder than a rock. “Fuck,” he groans, wanting so desperately to unzip his pants and stick his hands down his boxers. And he does, all while your panties remain in his left hand. Images and thoughts of you choking on his cock, taking him all the way until you can’t breathe all fill his mind. He’d love to see you get teary-eyed, to slap him so he can let you go even though he’s the one in control. It’s perfect, fucking perfect.
“Bucky? I’m talking to you,” you call, snapping him out of his deep memories. “What? Oh, sorry, what were you saying?” he questions, looking up at you with a smirk. He tries so hard to play off the way his cock is throbbing in his pants, and he does so successfully. “I was just wondering if you were okay with pouring me another glass? I’m much more in control now. I’m just really thirsty,” you explain to him, wringing your sweaty hands. You’re slightly puzzled. You’ve drunk so much, and those tingles went away just like that?
He reaches back into his pocket, pushes the small notch of the remote up a new level before grabbing the bottle. “You sure? I mean, drinking on an empty stomach isn’t good,” Bucky assures, and you nod. “I- I ate the uh, the appetizers before,” you tell him, and you choke on a few of your words. The feeling has returned, and you regret asking for another glass. He nods and stands up to pour you a drink, and you now realize that he’s sitting more so besides you than across.
You grip your thighs and try your hardest not to break the first layer of skin with your nails. You have enough stupid scars; there’s no need for a few more. “Only half a glass, please,” you whisper to Bucky, trying to discreetly move a bit further away from him. “Okay, whatever you want,” he hums before returning back to your glass. You decide to grip the sides of the chair, trying to get better leverage of movement. Slowly but surely, you move away from him. You push the chair a little further, and a squeak comes from it.
He continues to pour, but his eyes snap up at yours. “Where do you think you’re going? I hope you’re not running away from me. The thought hurts my heart, baby,” he pouts, and he tilts the bottle even more. A few droplets of wine splashes onto your dress, and you flinch in surprise. “I- It’s just that you’re so c- close to me, and this is a date, right? So we should be across from each other!” you quickly explain to him, even though you’re spewing utter lies.
“Don’t lie, I hate liars,” he spits, placing the wine bottle on the table. A splash accompanies it, and now the table cloth is stained with a Bordeaux shade of red. You squint your eyes shut, hoping that maybe he’ll see your discomfort and soften on you. But he doesn’t. You open them back up, just to find Bucky staring at you. “Look, I’m sorry, I just don’t like how close you are to me,” you reveal to him, squeezing your hands into tight fists.
“You- You don’t like how close I am to you?” he repeats in shock and confusion. You nod your head and notice the light vibrations on your clit beginning to strengthen. You let out a soft gasp, more wetness soaking your panties and your clit throbs with want and need. Involuntarily, you buck your hips upwards and roll them, practically humping the air like a bitch in heat. “Baby, we’re bound to be close! We’re soulmates, and soulmates are always close!” he cheers, sitting back down.
Bucky grabs your arm and pulls you towards him, but you grab your chair to stop him. Your legs are shaky, and you can barely stand on them. The room spins, and you genuinely wonder if this even is a restaurant because there is no noise from the kitchen, and there aren’t any windows either. Everything is hazy, and you let go of the chair. You fall into Bucky’s lap with a whimper, and he grips your waist tightly. “We’re not soulmates, James. We’re just going on dates, and right now, I want to leave,” you argue, trying to pull away from him.
Your movements are slow and lethargic. They’re pathetic and laughable to Bucky. “Yes, we are, shut the fuck up. I’ve seen every bit of you. I know you better than you know yourself, baby. Don’t break my heart,” he whispers through gritted teeth and a clenched jaw. “You’re fucking insane, oh my God,” you shriek quietly, ready to sob your heart out. He pulls you closer, and you can feel his breath fanning on your skin. He’s so close, too close to you.
The nearness of him hurts, and so does his grip on you. You can barely get any air, and you feel like you’re going to pass out. You finally understand that bowl of yours. It was too close to its doom, and it fell into pieces. “‘M not, just crazy for you and your love, baby, that’s all,” he expresses, as if he’s your boyfriend of three years. “And plus, I’ve technically touched you down there. That seals the deal, no?” Bucky questions, and your face twists in confusion.
“W- What?” you ask, no longer trying to squirm away from him. His right hand reaches into his pocket, and Bucky pulls a small egg-shaped remote. It’s a vibrant pink, and the numbers one through ten are marked on it. “You get frisky when you’re drunk, baby, just not that needy. But it’s okay, I’m here now, and I’m never going to leave your side,” Bucky purrs, pushing the notch all the way to ten. You let out a loud moan, and your eyes roll backwards.
You never should’ve let him get close to you.
714 notes · View notes
offcast-plus1 · 12 days ago
Text
Perfect Illusion
Pairing: Soft!Dark!Winter Soldier x Female!Reader
Warnings: Unprotected sex, oral sex (f&m), male masturbation, creampie, handcuffs, choking, fingering, spanking, dirty talk, knife kink, obsessive behavior.
Summary: The Winter Soldier had a sweet dream of you, in which he would like to stay forever.
A/n: Hey everyone! So, this is a prequel to You’ll come back to me again, and it’s from WS’s perspective.
Pay attention to the WARNINGS please ^^
Many thanks to everyone who reads me, and my dear @bvccy for all inspiration and support <3
English is not my first language and all mistakes are my own.
I hope you enjoy ! :)
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[MOODBOARD] [SOUNDTRACK] [MASTERLIST]
"For you and for me the highest moment, the keenest joy, is not when our minds dominate but when we lose our minds, and you and I both lose it in the same way, through love."
— Anaïs Nin
How far could a person go by following his crazy obsession, and where could it lead to? He's never known. The dark feeling of satisfaction ran through his body, as he closed the heavy metal door behind. The Winter Soldier surely heard your tears of despair, when he was leaving you in that cursed shower room. He couldn't stay there any longer, not after what he did. His loud footsteps echoed through the barely lighted corridor. Lots of different questions were bothering the Asset's mind, but there was no way back now. Everything that happened in Siberia would remain here, just like a small part of him would be inside you forever.
The gray, gloomy walls seemed to have no end. His random thoughts were overtaking each other, making him clench his fists with uncovered anger. He felt like you were still in front of his eyes - so naked, so exposed for him, and your voice was lingering in his head, it was calling him. Suddenly he stopped and grit his teeth from the sharp pain in his trembled heart. What the hell was that unpleasant sensation? Was he even capable of feeling guilty? Tiny drops of water were falling from his damp hair, reminding him how he was cradling your wet, shivering body just a few minutes ago. The Winter Soldier glanced grimly at his shaking hands, asking himself - how much suffering did they bring, and how much more would they...
"Soldat?" He heard the sound of incoming Hydra soldiers, but didn't react. Two tall men in military uniforms spoke to each other in Russian and began to approach him carefully. He was standing still, however, his whole look indicated - he was ready to attack. As soon as one of the officers got closer to him, the Asset turned around sharply and slammed his metal fist into the wall.
"Sir! He's unstable!" one man yelled to another. They both were pretty terrified from the unbridled fury of a super-soldier. Everyone knew very well what usually happened when he was angry, but there was no other way to stop it. The officers pressed him hard against the wall. To their surprise, he put up no resistance at all, and if they looked into his eyes, they would see nothing but pain.
"We must take him to the cell and inform the professor." The Asset began to move forward, as they were holding him firmly from both sides. He didn't care, all he could think about was where you were now, and when he'd see you again. Hydra soldiers were talking to someone via the walkie-talkie, clasping the Winter Soldier's hands occasionally. When he finally would be alone in his dark cell, he might have some time to put down all these obsessive thoughts. He sighed heavily and prayed that he would find his redemption soon.
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"Is it day or evening? No, definitely not evening." His head was dizzy, his eyes were trying to focus on any object. Once again, the Winter Soldier was in that fucking room, chained to a metal chair. As always, there were many people in white coats near him, and he hated them all. His metal arm was fixed in a very solid way - today, he was being prepared for something special. The Asset looked around, searching for the familiar face he had recently seen in his sweet dream. He vividly remembered your smooth skin, pretty face, and long legs that drove him crazy. The Winter Soldier gasped for air avidly, feeling that he was about to see you, but you weren't here. The scientists kept covering his body with different sensors, saying something in Russian. This language was making him feel rage and sadness at the same time. After a while there was silence in the room, until the head professor came in.
"Greetings gentlemen! Today is a very important day for all of us! Mr. Pierce has come here to check our progress," the old man smiled faintly and moved closer to the Asset. He raised his eyes calmly, waiting for what would be next. "I hope everything is ready?"
"Almost. I'll do I.V. and we're ready to go," said a blond woman in a tight medical gown. She approached the Winter Soldier slowly, glancing at him from all sides. He didn't turn his head even when she touched his face, fixing his soft brown hair.
"By the way, where is Miss (L/N) ? I thought she was already here." The old professor turned unhappily to the nurse, adjusting his tie. Just one mention of you made the Asset's heart beat faster. He straightened slightly, biting his lower lip. Miranda seemed to notice the sudden change in his face, and she froze for a while.
"She should be here soon, she's never been late before." There was some anxiety in her, but no one paid attention to this, except the super-soldier.
"Okay, let's wait a few more minutes. If she still doesn't show up, someone will need to go to Block C and find her. Just in case." The scientists nodded approvingly and began to check the cumbersome equipment. The Winter Soldier didn't notice a needle being injected in his arm, while everyone was talking. Miranda pressed her hand carefully against his, but she got no reaction again. The Asset perfectly knew what she was trying to achieve, but all his thoughts were only about you.
Time was passing very slowly. The head professor looked at his watch tensely, walking back and forth by the front door. Everyone was very excited about the upcoming presentation. After all, he was their favorite lab rabbit. Hydra put a lot of effort into making him their perfect weapon of blood and flesh. At some point, he realized that his thoughts started to get fuzzy. The Asset could feel his mind becoming clouded with darkness. That strange substance was running through his veins, forcing him to close his eyes and leaned on the back of the metal chair.
Suddenly all scientists became silent, when they heard footsteps approaching outside. A middle-aged man came in, escorted by a number of Hydra soldiers. He wore a business suit and expensive glasses on his serious face.
"Mr. Pierce! We've been waiting for you! Everything is almost ready!" the old professor spoke pretty quickly and nervously. Pierce raised his hand authoritatively, forcing the scientist to stop talking. It was quite cold in the room, but the Winter Soldier was panting from the unknown heat. Sweat was starting to form on his body, making him open his eyes and look at the new people around him.
"Well, I hope today all our expectations will be met." Mr. Pierce was watching the Asset attentively, coming a bit closer to him. "Is he stable now?"
"Yes, sir. We injected him with a special serum, which turns off all his mental barriers. Almost all," said one of the scientists, who was standing near the Winter Soldier, checking his vitals. The world around was getting blurrier with each second, and the memories of that evening kept coming back to his mind. Everything felt like it was real - your stifled moans, his firm hands on your wet body and his unbridled passion…
"Soldat? Do you hear us?" A slight electric shock seemed to pierce his body when he heard these words. The Asset sighed heavily and looked at the old professor with the silly bowtie.
"What should I do? To set her free?" His hair got a little wet, and his heart was beating very fast. Everyone around stood in complete confusion, especially Mr. Pierce. He narrowed his eyes skeptically and slowly removed his glasses.
"It's all right! Just a little side effect of the serum!" Miranda suddenly tried to assure everyone in the room, but not very successfully. As soon as she said that, the head professor called her to him and began to whisper something angrily.
"Gentlemen, I don't want to sound mean, I'm just interested… Why the hell did you drug him so hard that he can't even answer your simple question? Is it something you wanted to show me?" Pierce wasn't really furious, but his face clearly turned a bit red. It seemed like the walls would start to shake from the amount of pressure in this space. The Winter Soldier's head was rolling so badly, he could hardly hold it up. Countless voices slowly came together in one loud sound, when the front door swung open abruptly. The soft clatter of heels made everyone turn around.
"I apologize for my ridiculous delay. There were some problems with accessing this place." Your voice was like thunder from a clear sky.
"Oh, Miss (L/N)! We were starting to worry about you!" The old professor literally rushed up to you, forgetting about everything else. "We need to start right now, it's very important!" His face was so tense, you could almost see a little sweat drop on his forehead.
The Asset was sitting still, his head was tilted down, and his eyes were firmly closed. The unpleasant pungent smell of ammonia hit his nose, causing him to wake up. At first, he saw nothing, only a white veil obscured his vision.
"What did you do to him?" He couldn't believe it was your voice, no… It was just another illusion. Hydra soldiers were standing near you and watching your every move. Their guns looked very dangerous. The Winter Soldier's body ached with unknown pain, and every touch of the cold sensors made him feel worse. A satisfied grin played on Pierce's face when he saw your hands tensing with anger.
"Bring the notebook, please!" someone's squeaky voice sounded, and the room was bustling. Just a few seconds later, one of the scientists came up to you and held out a red notebook with a star on it. Only when several pairs of hands forced the Asset to sit up straight, he saw you. Time stopped for both of you. Your beautiful eyes were full of sadness, and it was so hard for you to look at him, but it seemed like he resigned himself to whatever was coming.
"Please, Miss (L/N). You know what to do." The professor’s gaze was burning into you. You waited for a moment and took that fucking book with shaking hands. If only a miracle could happen now...
You quickly closed your eyes and opened them again, but there was still the exhausted Winter Soldier sitting in front of you, waiting for you to say those cursed words again. Words that caused him hellish torment.
"So?" Mr. Pierce's impatient voice brought you out of your stupor. You turned to the right page, hearing your own pulse echoed in your head. All attention was on you and the Asset. His lips twitched slightly, as if he was trying to say something, but he didn't dare. Nothing could be changed, everything was already predetermined.
"Желание (Longing). Ржавый (Rusted). Cемнадцать (Seventeen)…"
Uncontrollable pain pierced the Winter Soldier's body, causing his hands to clench violently. He struggled to fight the stupefying contagion that was clouding his mind, but with each word you said, he was literally falling into the abyss. The head professor was intently observing the reactions of everyone around, holding you tightly by the forearm. Your nails were digging into your soft skin almost to the blood.
"Один (One). Грузовой вагон (Freight car)." A dead silence reigned in the room. "Доброе утро, Солдат (Good morning, Soldat)." You closed the red notebook, and looked into his empty eyes, feeling your emotions begin to overwhelm you.
"Ya gotov otvechat' (Ready to comply)," his deep voice sounded insanely cold, like ice was filling his veins. The Asset could feel only darkness within himself.
"Release him," Pierce walked literally right up to the Winter Soldier, looking at him confidently. "I need to understand his level of submission." No one dared to contradict him; a minute later, the brown-haired soldier was sitting freely on the metal chair, kneading his arms. All that time, you were staring at him, trying to figure out what person was sitting in front of you now.
"I think we'd better go," Miranda's sudden quiet voice scared you. "He could act extremely unstable." She took your hand firmly and led you with her, but you stopped her.
"What are they going to do with him?" You were overflowing with guilt and rage. Your eyes were trying to find his, but the blonde nurse wouldn't let you do that.
"(Y/N) ! What the hell is wrong with you? Do you think he needs you? He's just a weapon, you shouldn't worry about him." Her words made something snap inside you. With one last dismissive glance, you left the room, slamming the door loudly.
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Silence could drive anyone crazy - just leave a man alone with his thoughts, and they would destroy him completely. The Winter Soldier didn't know how long it had been since he saw you last... Mission after mission, murder after murder. His hands were completely covered in blood, and his mind was not his own. Even his thoughts, he could hardly understand which thoughts were his and which were not.
After returning from a tough assignment, he was left alone in a dark utility room somewhere in the depths of the barracks. There was practically nothing here, just a large metal tub with huge amounts of ice. The Asset's body ached from the wounds and minor injuries. The black leather vest fell to the floor with a loud thud. The remaining pieces of his tactical gear were taken off the same way - he was quite angry. Plunging into the icy water, the Winter Soldier felt his sores begin to pinch. With his eyes slowly closed, he tilted his head back, trying to relax his strained muscles.
When he was fully immersed in the bath, he exhaled heavily, stretching out his weary legs. The cold liquid seemed to help him free his mind, and temporarily forget about his evil deeds. He was like a blank page and Hydra had already written many terrible things on it. Rubbing his tired shoulders, the Asset tried to wash away the darkness that was haunting him every day and night. His flesh hand was sliding slowly across his wet skin, going lower down to his abs. With each touch, he found it harder to breathe. The Winter Soldier opened his eyes sharply, struggling with a sudden consuming desire. However, his body didn't want to obey, it wanted more - it wanted you. He could feel his cock hardening and his heart began to beat a little faster. The Asset parted his lips, desperately gasping for air. Leaning on the tub's edge, he carelessly pulled his hair away, while his warm hand continued its way to his needy manhood. When his palm finally wrapped around his hot flesh, a slight blush appeared on his face and he moaned softly. He closed his eyes again, jerking off slowly and imagining…
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The loud clatter of your heels echoed in his head. There was no one around, just a familiar corridor and a few closed doors. The Winter Soldier knew exactly what this place was, so did you. His steps were steady, while you were running as fast as you could. It was very dark behind the corner ahead, but you were not going to stop. The Asset smiled in satisfaction when he heard your frightened shriek, as he was close enough to catch you. He gave you a chance to run away on purpose, because he knew pretty well - you wanted to be chased… and subdued.
Looking around, he slowed down a little and listened to the surroundings. A slight creaking of the door caught his attention. Of course, the meeting room - where else could you hide now? The Winter Soldier stretched his arms to relax, moving unhurriedly straight down the corridor.
The meeting room was barely lit, making your situation more complicated. You didn't really have much time to think of the best place to hide. So you quickly crawled under a large table, holding your breath steady. You were sure - sooner or later the Asset would be here to catch you, he always did.
Time froze abruptly, when you heard a quiet sound from the front door. You could clearly hear the firm footsteps across the room. A chilling cold ran down your spine, causing you to back up a little. Your pencil skirt was pulled up slightly, revealing your black stockings. Covering your mouth with a shaking hand, you suddenly noticed his heavy combat boots. The Winter Soldier's muffled breath was the only sound in the room, as he moved carefully along the perimeter, trying not to make any noise. You closed your eyes in fear only for a second, and when you opened them, there was nothing in your sight. With a quick look around, you decided to seize the moment and run away from there. After taking a deep breath, you started to move forward very quietly. Just when you thought your plan was successful, you felt a cold metal arm grabbing you roughly by the hair. In one swift motion, the Asset set you on your feet, looking at you intently from head to toe.
"Let me go, please!" You were desperately trying to get out of his grasp, but the more you struggled, the harder he held you.
"You loved to play with me so much, as much as you love to bring me pain, and now you're asking me to let you go?" His voice was lightly muted, because of a black mask that covered his face firmly.
There was nothing for you to say in response, he got you once again. The Winter Soldier pinned you sharply against the tabletop, loosening his grip on you slightly. You looked him straight in the eyes, feeling his harsh hand slipping under your skirt. The Asset stroked your legs slowly, admiring your black stockings. You sighed in embarrassment and grasped his flesh palm. There should be a sassy smile on his face, as he pressed you tighter against him. He moved his metal arm to cup your cheekbone carefully, sliding it down to your soft lips. You almost lost your breath when his cool fingers parted your mouth, making you suck them gently. The table behind you was very cold, and you shuddered every time he pressed you harder.
"Your beautiful body feels so good in my hands, malyshka (baby)." The Winter Soldier tried to breathe in your sweet scent, but you moved away from him quickly. He growled a bit angry and raised his displeased gaze, squeezing your hip almost painfully. You whimpered silently, watching how he pulled a steel knife from the holster on his leg. He flipped it deftly in his flesh hand, and his blue eyes never leaving yours.
"You d-dont need to do this. Stop!" A frightening feeling of a cold blade on your neck silenced you immediately.
"Every time, the same thing. You might have thought of something new already." As soon as the Asset said that, he took off his mask abruptly, and pressed a hot kiss to your lips. You couldn't move away, because you were scared of getting a cut. So it was quite easy for him to slide his wet tongue into your heated mouth.
The kiss was becoming deep and rough very quickly, and his metal arm was holding your face in place. The Winter Soldier lowered the knife to your breast, rubbing your nipple through your white blouse. You arched your back, leaning harder on the table, and he helped you to sit on top of it. With careful, barely perceptible strokes, he cut the thin fabric of your blouse, exposing your lovely breasts. The Asset immediately licked your nipple, taking it avidly into his mouth and forcing you to lie on your back. You moaned slightly from his touch, running your fingers through his soft hair.
His metal hand pulled up your skirt and spread your legs apart, so he could stand comfortably between them. When you felt the cold blade on your panties, you squeezed your eyes shut and held your breath.
"Show me how wet you are, moya razvratnaya devochka (my naughty girl)." Your body was shaking, but you obediently opened your legs wider, allowing him to see your arousal dripping through your thin underwear. The Winter Soldier ran a trail of kisses from your neck down to your stomach. Moving lower, he made a slow lick along your delicate folds, pushing your wet panties aside. You couldn't hold back your nasty moans, desperately grabbing the wooden tabletop. "Is that what you want so badly?" the Asset smirked a bit, stroking your thigh at the edge of your black stocking.
"Oh yes, please! Please, Солдат (Soldat)." You were gasping for air from your own desire. A sudden rubbing touch from a knife handle on your burning clit, made your whole body tensed like a spring. You were completely under the Winter Soldier control, and he was enjoying every moment of it. Within a few seconds the handle was covered with your arousal, it slid so smoothly between your thighs, you could literally feel every bump on it. You whimpered when he stopped moving, and got up a bit to watch him licking your juices from that damn knife handle. Your cheeks were burning with excitement and lust.
"Relax, malyshka (baby)," he said, pushing you to lay on the table again. The Asset came back between your legs, and began to suck your sensitive clit. Then he added his metal fingers, pumping you slowly, but very deeply.
You were jolting from pleasure, when his flesh hand squeezed your breast, pinching your hard nipple roughly. Just a little longer and you were about to cum. He could feel how your pulsing core clenched around his wet tongue, making him move even faster. Your hands grabbed him by the back of his head, and your legs were shaking from the crazy sensation.
“That’s it, girl.” The Winter Soldier wiped away the droplets of your arousal with his metal fingers, sucking them pleasedly.
Your breathing was heavy, and your body was still trembling, but the Asset wasn't going to give you a break. With a quick movement, he lowered you to your knees in front of him. It was so hot around here, and you felt very dizzy. He grabbed you by the head, making you look at him. His blue eyes were completely dark, and his face was flaming with passion. The Winter Soldier ran his metal fingers over your swollen lips, letting you taste yourself on it. You moaned slightly when you felt him stroking your hair gently.
"Ah, I almost forgot." He looked down into his pocket and pulled out the shiny handcuffs. With a quick glance at you, he threw them at your feet. "Put them on." Your heart stopped for a moment.
"What?" You confusedly watched his palm slide down his powerful hips. After a few seconds, he unzipped his tactical pants, releasing his hot flesh. The Asset smirked at you when he saw your reaction to his thick cock.
"I said - put them on. Shall I repeat it again, malyshka (baby)?" You lowered your guilty eyes at the handcuffs a bit skeptically, but you decided to do as he told you. The metal bracelets snapped easily around your wrists, making you even more vulnerable for him. A dark smile never leaving his face, while you were doing this. "Come here, my obedient girl."
Your body was trembling, and your mind was seized by temptation. The distance between you and the Winter Soldier was very short, but those few centimeters were hard to come by. As soon as you got closer to him, he wrapped his metal hand around your neck.
"You have a very talented little mouth. It brought me so much pain... Maybe I should make you feel pain too?" He tightened his grip, making you choke. Your eyes began to water from the lack of air.
"I... I didn't want... I had no choice." Suddenly he released you, pressing his hot manhood against your flushed lips.
"It was a rhetorical question. Stop talking, malyshka (baby)." His insistence made you feel weak.
You sighed heavily, and began to lick his hard cock along its full length. Your movements were very careful at first, until his strong hand grabbed your hair tightly. The Asset was looking at you with slightly closed eyes. His breathing became fast, when your wet lips wrapped around his burning flesh. You were trying to take his length as deep as you could, feeling how your tears were dripping down your cheeks. The Winter Soldier stopped you abruptly and took out his twitching cock, only to push it even deeper in your throat. For a second you thought you were going to choke completely, and your hands were pretty useless in this situation, but you tried to grab onto his thighs. His hot cum was running from your lips to your breasts, and your head was about to blow off from that crazy pace. The Asset moaned lightly, slowing his movements and putting himself off of you.
"Such a naughty little girl you are, and you know it." With these words, he picked you up and turned around, pressing against the table. You were pretty exhausted, and your hands started to hurt a bit from the handcuffs cutting into your skin. The Winter Soldier spanked your ass cheek harshly, rubbing his hard cock against your oversensitive core. He was teasing your neck with his tongue, pressing himself closer to your body.
"Солдат (Soldat), take me. Please..." Your voice was unrecognizable and so submissive. An avalanche of goosebumps ran down the Asset's body.
"You want me to fuck you, filling you up to your limits?" You could feel his scalding breath on your skin and his hands squeezing your breasts tightly.
"Yeah, ruin my body. Take it!" That was the last straw of his patience.
In one quick move, the Winter Soldier slipped inside you, gripping your thigh painfully. The handcuffs didn't allow you to move your arms normally, so you just accepted it. He didn't let you adjust to his size, picking up the pace quickly. His strong hips were thrusting roughly into yours, making you whimper and shiver from the pleasure. The Asset pressed your face against the smooth tabletop, lifting your right leg up a bit. From that angle he could impale you even deeper, and that was too much for both of you. Your loud moans filled all the surrounding space, mingling with the sounds of meeting flesh. An overwhelming release washed over you like a thunderclap. The Winter Soldier held you by your waist, pounding you harshly and kissing all along your arching back. You couldn't even shake under his solid body, it was too heavy. The Asset squeezed your cuffed hands with his metal arm, pulling away from you slowly. You were rolled over again, and you felt your spine aching with fatigue.
"I want you to remember this one, moya malen'kaya malyshka (my little baby)," the Winter Soldier made a nasty growl and greeted his teeth. You watched him jerking off and cumming right between your legs. He grabbed your inner thigh harshly, fondling it with his warm palm.
His hot arousal was flowing down your wet folds, mixing with your own juices. You bit your lip in overwhelming ecstasy, clutching the handcuffs with your fingers. The Asset pushed away his sweaty hair, looking at your exhausted body. The surrounding air was hotter than the mouth of a volcano, and your skin was literally burning.
"Do you like this feeling? When you don't belong to yourself ?" You whined when his harsh thumb began to rub your sore clit. He smirked a bit, and started thrusting into you again.
You didn't even have enough energy to moan, nor to speak. His hard flesh was assaulting you so passionately, causing another release to build up inside your gut. The Winter Soldier was watching his impressive manhood disappearing in your sensitive core, trying so badly not to cum again.
"Tell me, girl!" He grabbed you suddenly by the waist, forcing you to wrap your legs around his muscled lower back. Your cuffed hands were desperately holding onto his massive shoulder, as his hips were meeting yours with rough motions.
"Yeah... I belong only to you, Солдат (Soldat), I..." You moaned hoarsely in his ear, feeling your body jolting from crazy satisfaction.
The Asset pressed you closer to his broad chest, catching your soft lips with his own. You were kissing so eagerly, and your tongues were entwined in a passionate dance. All those nasty wet sounds from the way he was impaling you, made a huge release wash over him. He filled you up to the limit with his hot cum, making you feel totally subdued. Both of you were trembling with unimaginable orgasm, and he struggled to stay on his feet, holding you tightly in his strong arms.
You looked intently at the Winter Soldier, pressing your palm against his cheek. He closed his eyes for a moment, feeling the pleasurable sensation of your soft skin. With a siwft motion, his metal arm broke the handcuffs, pressing your fingers against his swollen lips. Your hearts were beating in unison, and your sweaty bodies felt as one.
"Я всегда буду с тобой (I'll be with you forever)." Your gentle voice touched him one last time, before your face disappeared into the darkness…
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The Asset opened his eyes widely, finding himself in the same ice tub. His metal arm was wrapped tensely around his twitching cock, making it hard for him to breath. He exhaled loudly, realizing that his perfect illusion had completely fallen to pieces. Barely visible drops of sweat dripped from his forehead, outlining his perfect face. Total silence shrouded the Winter Soldier once again, but he could still hear the echoes of your words in his head, and smell your sweet scent in the air. His heart was on fire, and even the cold water couldn't cool down his heated body. The frantic arousal tormented him continuously, giving him a feeling of being a slave to his own lust.
Sudden loud footsteps from the outside pulled him out of his thoughts. The Asset got up from the bath slowly, searching for a towel. After a couple of seconds he realized it wasn't here. The front door was opened quietly, revealing a blonde-haired woman with a bedspread in her hands. She shuddered in shock from the sight of the Winter Soldier's naked body. Small drops of water were running down his sculpted muscles and falling to the tiled floor with a faint sound. He glanced uninterestedly in her direction, standing sideways.
"I, I am sorry!" Miranda's confused voice only made him more irritated.
The Asset turned around and headed calmly towards her, causing the woman to catch her breath. When he was beside her, she parted her lips slightly, looking into his steel eyes. A skeptical squint appeared on his face as he noticed her rapid panting. This situation was making him insanely angry, but also a bit amused. Without any thinking, he swiftly snatched the fabric out of her hands and walked past her without even looking back. Miranda was left alone, clenching her fists in displeasure.
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That night was special. Just because he could finally be close to you, after all this time, which had seemed like an eternity. With these thoughts, the Winter Soldier was on his way to Block C. He knew exactly in what room you were, after he heard the scientists talking about it. It wasn't simple luck that one of the scientists disappeared under mysterious circumstances, but he really didn't care about it. The Asset was ordered to join the search, so he was actually doing his job, and you would be his priceless reward. The long corridor that led to your room was filled with heavily armed Hydra agents. As soon as they saw the Winter Soldier coming, they spread out to clear the way.
At first, he dared to step inside, carefully touching the doorknob. He didn't know if you were asleep or not, and what would be better. Taking a deep breath, he slowly opened the door, causing a slight draft. Your room was very small, but pretty cozy. The Asset slowly looked around, noticing a small bookshelf with numerous books. Then his gaze fell on the table beside your bed, and he saw some unknown pills. He shook his head irritably, coming closer to you. Your breathing was rapid, but you were lying motionless. His eyes slid over your shape, longing to touch it. The Winter Soldier smirked naughty, imagining everything he would do with your alluring body. He's been waiting for this too long… All this pain and arousal that had tortured him would finally find its release.
His metal arm was an inch from your neck, when your sudden deep sigh echoed across the room. He immediately realized you were awake. Your smooth hair was scattered across the pillow, and he mentally stroked each of your curls. The Asset really couldn't understand why he stopped, simply admiring your heaving breasts. Nor could he realize how something within him began to prick at the sight of your innocent purity. Could he actually hurt you? This question stuck in his head, but it was time to go, he knew it and he hated it. The Winter Soldier gave one last look at you, leaning slightly to see your peaceful face. After that, he pulled away quickly and walked towards the exit, never turning back.
"Ty budesh' pomnit' menya, kak ya tebya, i nikto ne otnimet eto u nas. Ya obeshchayu, malyshka (You will remember me, as I do, and no one will take it from us. I promise, baby)."
Was it a whisper or just his illusive thought again - no one would ever know.
201 notes · View notes
gwenavibra · 12 days ago
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Damn sociopath
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r. dark mob!bucky x dark!reader | w. 5k | cw. nsfw 18+, minors dni. cheating, mentions of torture, blood, murder, cursing, breeding kink if you squint, unprotected sex, blood kink, bucky is an idiot, dark!steve kinda, kinda ooc too. I say they're dark just to be safe, but all these idiots are kinda soft note. honestly, the entire fic is just a big warning. proceed with caution, if you do not feel comfortable with dark topics, I suggest you don’t read this. also, some of it it’s like some telenovela shit, but bear with me. this is the darkest thing I’ve written so far and I’m very proud of my little baby. enjoy! and as always, be nice and tomen agüita 💋
this is part 2 of my Sour Series: part 1 | prequel part 2 | part 3 | part 4
summary. In all honesty, they definitely had it coming. Or, in which your husband decides that the best way to save your marriage is to fuck your therapist and rub it in your face. [this is loosely based on Olivia Rodrigo's good 4 u and deja vu]
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Now this was a situation in which you weren’t exactly sure how to feel. For starters, there was nothing wrong with being tied up, but considering your lack of nudity and some type of vibrator edging you, this wasn’t exactly a fantasy you had in mind. Sighing, you let your eyes wonder to the ropes holding your hands in place. Your arms were starting to get tired, and you were honestly a little sick of this. You needed a shower, for God sakes. How long were they planning on keeping you here? So yeah, you did a stupid thing, but they do stupid shit everyday and no one bats an eye. Still, you weren’t worried. No one would touch you; he wouldn’t let them. No matter what you did or how mad he was at you, you knew there was no real threat. That’s why you were there, tied up in your room instead of the basement. He wanted to kill you for what you’d done, but he wouldn’t… he couldn’t… you were everything to him, even if you didn’t know it at the moment.
It all started about a month ago, you had been having trouble with your husband, every day was a different fight. He seemed mad at you, and you didn’t understand why. Nothing you ever did was good enough. It almost felt like he was testing you. After five years of marriage, you would expect things to change, maybe the love wasn’t there anymore, maybe he got tired of you, but the change had been so drastic, so sudden, that it made you wonder if there was something more behind it. That’s when you had the brilliant idea to bring him to therapy with you. It seemed like a good plan at the moment, you had been going to these sessions for a few weeks now and your therapist seemed professional and discreet enough, a quality very much appreciated in your line of work.
Everything should’ve been fine. That was until you found them fucking in her office one day. You should’ve killed them right then and there, but you didn’t and they needed to give you credit for that. You just left. He came home to find all his things out in the entrance and the guards avoiding his eyes. He was going to fight you, he really was. Hell, that was his house too…but he built it for you, if anyone should leave, he supposed it was him. Bucky hated himself, he felt disgusting and filthy and he wanted to crawl back to you and ask for forgiveness, but his pride didn’t let him. He could hear your voice inside the house, bossing the maids around, ordering them to get rid of everything he ever touched, as if that would make the pain go away. As if you could erase his presence from your heart in the process. Letting a long breath out, he turned around and left.
A week passed and then another one, you played a key role in the organization and everyone noticed your absence from the weekly meetings, but no one would dare ask. You kept tabs on Bucky and were aware of his every move. When you were together, that was a security measure, now it just served as a way for you to torture yourself noticing how the bastard reenacted your best moments with her. I guess the fucking therapist I got for you really helped, huh. This went on for weeks, until the big august event. It was a party you hosted every year, it served to connect with your partners and built new business relations. Showing everyone how powerful you were and why they should want to work with you. So, you did your part, you planned the party, made sure everything was in order and it was… just up to the moment he showed up with her in his arm.
– Did you see them? Oh my god, it’s so embarrassing. I would die if my husband did that.
– Well, it’s well deserved. They were always so high and mighty with their perfect relationship.
– You are just jealous.
– Jealous? C’mon. If anything, I’m happy to see the queen fall from her pedestal. She’s gone soft and I’m not surprised he couldn’t stand her anymore.
As you heard the whispered remarks made at your expense, you clenched your fist and took a few deep breaths before stepping out of the pillar that kept you out of sight. The moment the women saw you, you noticed the blood leaving their faces and you smiled at them, squinting your eyes just enough to let them know you did, in fact, just hear everything they were saying. Yeah, you’d gone soft, maybe it was time to start acting like yourself again.
– Honestly, [y/n], I’m so happy of how mature you’re being. I guess our sessions really taught you something, to properly act like a lady.
– Hmm… – You were forcing yourself to stay quiet, avoid a scene. This was a crucial night not only for Bucky and you, but for the entire business you built beside him. Then again, everyone thought you were getting soft, if you could just show them… No, behave. You could deal with this mess later –
– Let’s be honest, he needed something that you could never give him. He’s better off with me now. I’m sure you’ll have no trouble finding someone to replace him with.
– What do you mean? – Now that caught your attention; what exactly was she implying? –
– Well, I mean, from what I’ve heard, you’ve gotten pretty close and personal with most of the men at this party. It really surprises me, you never mentioned any of this in our sessions. I guess Bucky wasn’t the only one you were lying to.
You’d come to the bathroom to try and get some peace from all the gossiping, and she just had to follow you in there. This house had like 10 bathrooms; she really couldn’t go somewhere else? Also, you couldn’t believe what she was saying. So, she got to screw your husband, but apparently you were the slut? You don't know exactly what happened. One minute, you were staring at her while she fixed her makeup, the next thing you know, like a force took over you, you grabbed a fistful of her hair and smashed her face against the mirror. Everything just went blank for a minute; it was almost an out of body experience. God, you wanted her to suffer, to feel just an ounce of what her little stunt put you through. It was almost as watching yourself from outside of your body, you knew you were moving, but at the same time you felt... nothing.
Everything was silent. Her lips were moving, so she must have been screaming, but you couldn’t hear a sound. Screaming in pain, yes. Shut up, everyone will come. Not yet, I need a few more minutes. So, without letting go of her hair, you smashed her face against the counter... Again, and again, until there was no resistance on her part and you felt you could just let go. As the limp body of the woman who took everything from you slipped to the ground, you stared at your reflection in the now shattered mirror. For a few minutes, you just stood there, looking into your lifeless eyes. Everything felt so... empty. There was some sense of satisfaction, like a cold rush running through your veins. It made you feel alive, but it didn't quite fill the emptiness in your chest.
If you think about it, it wasn’t really your fault. You were perfectly fine just staying in your lane, flirting with some business men, making some deals, ignoring the hell out of your husband and his mistress, and finishing the night with a whole lotta tequila in your room and cuddles from your dogs. But no, she had to open her stupid mouth. You sighed as you became more aware of your surroundings; you waited a moment to see if you could hear someone coming. Guess no one heard her, good thing this bathroom is far enough from the ballroom, I could get her out of here without anyone seeing me. When you came to the conclusion that no one was probably coming for either of you, you decided to stop wasting time and getting to work. The perks of being the wife of a mob boss for over five years is that you pick up a thing or two, especially after your husband makes a frequent thing the whole “Bring your wife to work day”. Who would’ve thought it would backfired, huh, Buck? Everything you taught me; I’ll use to get rid of your whore. You went through her purse and pulled her phone out; lowering yourself, you reached for her hand and used her fingerprint to unlock it; it may come in handy later.
Grabbing the skirt of your dress, you tied it up as to be able to move freely, you took off your heels and hid them next to the phone in the back of the small closet. Dragging her would just make a mess all over the floor, and you didn’t exactly need to leave a trace. Internally thanking all the self defense and survival classes Bucky made you take along with the heavy weight training; you pull her body up the ground and carried it on your shoulders. It was definitely not easy, but she was fairly skinny and didn’t weight more than what you use to lift. Making sure once again the hallway was clear; you made your way as fast as you could to the gardens. In the run you almost tripped on your way down the stairs, it was so close, but thankfully you could pull yourself back up and made your way to the little wooden house behind the property.
They could smell you. They knew you were coming. Your babies, they were so good to you. You had raised them since they were little puppies and you adored them. You both did. Bucky was a sucker for them. They were almost as big as you and he treated them like they were little cubs. No one’s ever seen more spoiled dogs. And here you were, their mommy, bringing them a treat in this cold lonely night. Signaling them to sit still, you dump the body in front of them. Quickly took off her clothes and jewelry, leaving her as naked as the day she was born. By this point you were completely out of breath, your muscles were burning and you were doing your best to stay calm and not do something stupid; like getting caught before getting rid of the evidence. Looking around one more time, you were satisfied at the empty exterior, the distant sound of laughter and music coming from the house. Stepping away from your victim, you whistle to the dogs, signaling to start eating, and that they did.
You knew you had been missing for quite sometime by now, you weren’t exactly sure how long, but someone must have noticed it by now. So, you ran back to the house as fast as you could. On your way back, you made sure to stop by the incinerator Bucky had insisted on buying and you now thanked profusely. No one had come into the bathroom while you were away, so you cleaned everything the best you could. You couldn’t fix the mirror, but you could deal with that later, these people were so drunk they probably wouldn’t even notice. Fixing your hair and your makeup, everything was put exactly in place, flawless. Taking one deep breath, you made your way to the ballroom once away and quickly gulped down a glass of champagne. Before you could start to make your rounds, you felt him. So close to you, it made your heart ache and your lower abdomen throb. He lowered his head to the side of your neck and sniffed you, he always loved to do that, said your smell comforted him. Now, you were afraid of what he would smell on you. Bucky being Bucky, he noticed the stiffness of your body.
– Where were you, doll? Everyone’s been asking about you.
– Glad to see someone notices me, not that my husband will, he’s too busy playing with his new toy.
He laid one hand on your waist and squeeze hard enough so he could leave a mark, you almost moaned. It had been so long since he had touched you, you craved him. Hell, you couldn’t even avoid it, as hard as you tried. Your body was running full on adrenaline after your latest act and you desperately needed to drain it. But you wouldn’t say it, it would be a stupid thing to show such a big weakness in front of him. So, you placed your hand on top of his and sink your nails into his skin. He hissed, and it was so low, hadn’t he been so close to you, you would have never heard it. But it made you smile, and he noticed it, prompting a smile on his face. You always played this game, make the other tick, show his cracks, break. It’s fair to say that he was winning in that department.
– Dance with me, babydoll.
Before you could say anything, he’d already dragged you to the dance floor and made you spin, just like old times. Everyone was staring, leaving their shallow conversations a side to try and pry into the relationship of two of the most powerful people in the room. Pulling you close to him, he grabbed the outer side of your tight, that was showing through the opening of your dress, and lifted your leg up, almost wrapping it around him.
– Where is she, doll?
– Huh?
– C’mon, don’t play dumb with me. Tell me where she is and I promise you won’t be in trouble.
That made you snort, and you raised an eyebrow while looking at him mockingly.
– I’m sure I don’t know what you mean. But if I did, do you seriously think that pathetic little threat would scare me? I know you, Barnes. Go fuck off someone else.
You were about to pull away from him, but his grip just got tighter around you. He was starting to get upset, he knew you’d done something, you had been missing for almost an hour and when you came back there was something different about you. Something… dark. He knew you as one of the most intelligent women to ever step this earth, and even he would fear your wrath, but this… this was different and he needed to know what it was. It also didn’t seem like a coincidence that you weren’t the only one missing. Swaying you at a slower pace that was appropriate giving the song the band was playing, Bucky didn’t let you go. You were so close, you could feel his heartbeat, smell his scent, feel his hard muscles and the bulge between his legs pressed perfectly against you. If you raised your head a little, you could even kiss him. Unknowingly, you stared at his mouth for a second too long. Nothing too scandalous, but he noticed and, just to be a tease, he wet his lips with the tip of his tongue and gave you a smirk so arrogant it almost made you moan. He may try to fool you, but this was affecting him too and you could fee just how much by the way he was poking at your stomach.
– Now, now, stay still, princess. Wouldn’t wanna cause a scene in front of all these people, now, would you? – He reprimanded you, his voice sounded an octave lower and it made you shiver with anticipation. If he wanted any information, he would have to fuck it out of you. As a response you just stared into his eyes, drowning in them as he did the same in yours. God, you missed him. Hell, he loved you. You were both so caught in your little bubble, that when you heard the voice interrupting you, you both growled.
– Everyone’s staring at you, it looks like you’re about to jump at each other’s throats. – Steve whispered loud enough so only you could hear it. You frowned at his words, here you were, having a moment after a terribly eventful night and you were getting cockblocked by your husband’s right-hand man.
– Well, of course everyone’s staring, Stevie. – He hated that name and you made sure to use it every time he pissed you off – We’re the talk of the ton, haven’t you heard? My husband’s fucking our therapist and everyone wants to hear the story. Can’t blame them, really, it’s the most exciting thing that’s happened since I’ve met them. – Your voice reeked of bitterness, but your face was so welcoming and friendly, you could’ve fooled anyone.
By this point, Bucky had lowered your leg, but his grip around your waist was ironclad. You weren’t sure if he just enjoyed having you so close, or he was afraid you would run away. For your sake, you decided to stay with option number one and let yourself sink in his hold. The longer you were like this, the softer Bucky’s touches on you became, he was just enjoying how you melted against him. Almost out of instinct, he left a soft kiss on the top of your head and frowned at Steve. This wasn’t the first time you’ve acted like this at a party. Hell, once you almost destroyed his club just because he didn’t like the way some men were staring at your figure.
– I’m serious, [y/n]. This is a very important night; you both need to be in your best behavior. – And grabbing your arm, he tried to pull you away from Bucky – Why don’t you let me take over? You should go find your date, anyway.
As his eyes got darker, Bucky clenched his teeth.
– Punk, I love you. You’re family. But put your hands on my wife one more time and I’ll make sure you never use them.
– A little hypocrite there, huh, Bucky? You just paraded another woman like some new trophy, embarrassing your lady in the process, and now no one’s allowed to touch her?
Bucky was livid. The hold he had on you was borderline painful now, and you knew you had to get them out of there before they did something they would regret. Untangling yourself from both of their grasp, you took a step back and fixed your dress before addressing them.
– First off, I do not need a babysitter. I’m perfectly aware of what’s expected of me and I don’t need you to take over anything. Remember your place. – You hissed to Steve, as you raised your chin like a queen, without giving him so much as a second look. – And you, you’re an absolute idiot, who was no right to say who gets to touch me. You lost that right the minute you made me look like a fool in front of your whore. Now, I’ll go get a drink and mingle, I suggest you two do the same and don’t cause any more trouble.
As you turned you heel and made your way to the bar, a part of you was amazed at your actions. Not that it was the first time you would scold them, but after what happened today, shouldn’t you be freaking out? As you grabbed a new drink and made some small chat with some idiot’s brand-new wife, you saw out of the corner of your eye one of Bucky’s guards practically running to him. And you knew, this was it. Chugging down what was left of your drink, you braced yourself, and as the world went silent you saw across the room the exact moment he also knew. Your eyes locked and you could see something light deep in his eyes.
And now, here you were, waiting for your husband to show up when the door finally opens. Only it’s not who you’re expecting. Closing the door behind him, Steve steps in the room and sits next to you in bed, giving you a smile.
– You really fucked up this time, [y/n]. Bucky is not gonna let this go so easily. You know that, don’t you? – He looked so smug, you wanted to slap that satisfied grin off his face. You always knew he never liked you, to be honest, you always thought he just wanted Bucky all to himself. You talked to Bucky about it, when you were starting your relation, and he assured you there would never be any problem. Well, your husband was terribly wrong about many things, as it appears –.
– I don’t know what you’re talking about, and seriously, Bucky would kill you first before ever hurting me – That made his eyebrow twitched and you smiled innocently to piss him off even more –
– Are you sure about that after everything you’ve done?
– Whatever do you mean?
– Don’t be stupid, we found her remains. Nice work with the dogs, though, even I was impressed you actually pulled that off.
– If I had, in fact, done what you say I did, it wouldn’t be so different that the time Bucky set on fire an entire office just because a guy grabbed my ass. Besides, he can always get himself a new toy.
– See, that’s not the only issue. Yes, I’m sure he’s upset his latest pet is gone – You could notice the repulsion in his tone and it made you quirk an eyebrow – But after everything she showed him, it just proved what we all already knew. You’re just a slut.
– What are you even talking about?
– Bucky knows about your little adventures; he’s known for quite some time now. Why did you think he got so distant with you? He found out you’ve been fucking every man that so much as gives you the time of day. I’m sure that’s why he fucked that shrink in the first place, we both know how much our little man enjoys a good revenge.
You felt sick to your stomach. He was lying. You never did anything like that and Bucky knew that, he had to know. You were his, you always had been. As the excitement of the day started to take a toll on you, you felt dizzy and looked at him in disbelieve. He just looked at you and laughed, he started to play with the skirt of your dress and you tried to kick him away, but you seriously hope he wouldn’t try anything, the vulnerability of your position being too much.
– But that’s not true! None of it is, and you know it damn well! – You blurted out as you struggled with your restraints.
– Well, it doesn’t really matter what I know, does it? What matters is what Bucky thinks and he is sure you betrayed him. He even got rid of one of your lovers. In a matter almost as dramatic as you did. It almost makes it seem like you truly are made for each other. It’s truly a shame, I never knew Bucky could be so gullible. I mean, there isn’t one single piece of hard evidence and yet he had no trouble accepting you cheated on him. See, that’s the problem with your relationship, it blinds him. All he sees is you, and nothing could ever be at your level. Every decision he made, every business he would do, every fucking shirt he would buy, he would do it thinking about you. He didn’t even care what I had to say, forget my experience and the fact that I’ve known him his entire life, little miss princess always had the final word. Well, not anymore…
– You know, I’m certain I told you to stay away from my wife, and you know better than anyone how much I hate repeating myself.
You noticed how Steve’s face went as blank as a sheet of paper and you let yourself relax with a sigh. Bucky was here, finally. You trusted him. After everything that’s happened, there was no doubt in your heart you would be okay as long as he was by your side. As Steve slowly stood from the bed, he turned to see Bucky pointing a gun at his forehead. He knew he had to choose his next words carefully, Bucky had been a sniper back in the army and he never missed a shot, especially one so close.
– Now, tell me more about how gullible I am.
– Bucky, it’s really not what you think. I was just riling her up, wanted to see if she’d confess, you know? I didn’t mean anything. You know the truth, don’t you?
Bucky looked at him for a few seconds before turning his gaze at you; his eyes softened at the sight of you and you noticed how he quickly sweep your body for any injuries. Noticing his distraction, Steve tried to take the gun from Bucky and landed a punch to his jaw making him stumble a little. They started to struggle, and there was a moment you felt worried about Bucky. As the sounds of grunting and bones being broken got louder you felt more anxious. By this point you couldn’t really see what was happening, they had fallen onto the floor. Trying to lift yourself you saw Bucky on top of Steve, delivering punch after punch, you didn’t even know if the man was still alive, at some point he stopped struggling. There was a ringing in your ears and you couldn’t bring yourself to utter a single word. A part of you wanted Bucky to kill him, but it worried you how would he feel after. He was the only thing that mattered to you, and killing his best friend would be a terrible wound.
Your thoughts were interrupted when you saw Bucky slowly standing, he took a moment to look at the motionless body at his feet. He was all bruised and covered in so much blood you weren’t sure who it belonged to. But none of that mattered, not when he turned to look at you, and his eyes were feral and dark, like a lion hunting his prey. Slowly, as to not scare you, he approached you and untied your bindings. With the last of your strength, you slapped him across his face, and he let you, he knew he deserved it. You didn’t hear a crack, so you were pretty sure you didn’t break anything, but there was blood covering all his face and it just seemed to keep pouring. Something feral took over you as you grabbed his face and kissed him, the metal taste in your tongue as you brushed your tongue against his and pulled him close to you. Bucky growled in your mouth and lift you so you could wrap your legs around him; pulling you up he tore your dress apart and your undergarments, leaving you naked in front of him as he still remained fully clothed. Walking towards your private bathroom, he placed you on top of the counter as you helped him undress himself.
By this point, most of your body was covered in blood, everywhere he touched he left a trace of the new secret you both now shared. Once you were both fully naked, you took a moment to look at each other, you wanted to mark him, make sure there was no trace left of her. He caressed your cheek with his right hand and stuck his thumb in your mouth. As you suck you could see his eyes turning impossibly darker, no trace of the blue you loved so much. Without saying a word, he lifted your legs as you left his finger go with a pop and aligned himself to your center. At the first stroke you both moaned, a satisfaction that can only be described as being finally home. He didn’t wait much for you to accustom to his size, and the stinging pain mixed with the pleasure from his rapid thrust had you drooling.
No words were needed at this point, all the dirty talk could wait. Right now, all you both needed was to feel each other, as close as possible. The only noises anyone could hear were the moans and grunts coming out of you, along with your labored breathing and the skin slapping with each thrust. He knew he was close, but he wanted you to cum first so he lowered his hand and pinched your clit the way he knows makes your head spin around. Arching your back you screamed out his name, he grunted at the feel of your tight walls squeezing him and after a few sloppy thrust he was filling you with his cum.
As you fell against his chest, he wrapped his arms around you and pulled you to the tub, he sat there and scrub your body as the bath filled with water; washing away the events of the evening. It was almost a déjà vu; everything was back to normal; your man was taking care of you and you could finally relax in his arms. Maybe he’s insane, but you are too and there was no better pair of sociopaths than you two.
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boxofbonesfic · 13 days ago
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Title: Talking Bird (Chapter Seven)
Chapter 6 Chapter 5 Chapter 4 Chapter 3 Chapter 2 Chapter 1
Summary: Sometimes when you stare into the dark, the darkness stares back in kind. You’ve been living in hell the past three years, so you’re familiar with the look of devils—so you think. They see darkness in you, and they’re determined to make you embrace it. As soon as your good-for-nothing husband is out of the way.
Pairing: Steve x Reader x Bucky
WARNINGS: DUBCON, Murder, violence, General criminal activity, Manipulation, Abuse (past abuse, but still), Abuse victim reader, breeding kink, forced impregnation
A/N : WHEW, I’m so sorry this installment took a little longer than normal to get out. We’re hitting the finish line now, just one or two more chapters left to go, and I couldn’t be happier to have shared this all with you. Please let me know what you think, and don’t hesitate to drop me an ask with any questions. ❤️ This is a work of FICTION, and it is Dark, so I assume once you’ve clicked through the link that you are comfortable with that. I do not give consent for my work to be copied, translated, or posted elsewhere, even if I am credited. This work is entirely mine, and unbeta’d, so read at your own risk! MINORS, DNI! Enjoy 😘
💀
Chapter Seven: You don’t realize…the windows were open the whole time…
The sound of knocking woke you, and for a moment, you groped for Glenn’s body in the bed before realizing with a start that it was a useless exercise. You didn’t need Glenn to go to the door in the middle of the night to settle whatever grievance he’d caused—and even if you did, he would never again be able to. You sat up blearily, clearing your raspy throat. 
“Come in?” You croaked, swallowing with a wince.
The door creaked open, and Steve stepped in. He looked tired, like he hadn’t slept at all, and when you glanced over at the window, light was only just beginning to appear over the horizon. He ran his hand through his hair and leaned against the doorframe, smiling wearily at you. 
“Sorry to wake you, doll. I couldn’t sleep. Can I…?” He motioned at your bed, and you nodded quickly. He slid in beside you, sighing at the coolness of the sheets. You tried to relax, but now that you’d woken, your mind swirled with questions and dark thoughts. You took a deep breath and tried to steady your nerves. 
“Steve?”
“Mmm?”
“What…what happens now?” You asked quietly, your eyes searching for his face in the dark. “I know… I know it can’t stay like this forever.” It couldn’t. The detective had seen to that. You’d had no pretenses about these men, but the more time you spent with them, the less loud the alarm bells in your head seemed to ring. Even now, there was barely even the fear you knew you should feel alone with someone like Steve Rogers. 
“No,” He sighed, shifting to pull you against him. “It can’t.” He tugged you to his chest, stroking your hair. “Are you afraid of me, princess?”
“I know I should be.” You admitted. And you knew something else, too, something you couldn’t voice. You knew that he would never let you go. They’d given you the illusion of choice, but even if you’d said no, you knew you would have ended up here. You didn’t know why the lie had given you comfort before, nor why it no longer did. 
Steve’s hands crept up your sides, stroking you comfortingly. “The world is so ugly, sweetheart.” He said softly, his breath puffing against the back of your neck. “Cruel.” A soft kiss against your skin, followed by the trailing of his cool fingers up your bare thigh. “Look how it treated you, doll. And you were good.” You had never been one of those people, people who felt owed for your poor treatment.
Maybe you are, the dark thing whispered. It was louder now, though it’s voice was more soothing in your mind’s ear. Life takes and takes and takes until you’re a husk of yourself—
“So I should return the favor?” You asked, no judgement or malice in your tone. 
“You should accept the gift being given to you.”
His touch burned, ignited something in you. You shifted, trying to ease the ache he’d lit in your core. A gift or a curse? You wondered, knowing that regardless of which eye you looked at it with, you had to accept it all the same. You were reminded of Bucky’s words just a few days prior. 
We see potential in you.
Potential for what? 
Steve’s fingers deftly moved your panties to the side, finding you slick beneath them. He hmm’d in approval, nuzzling further into your hair affectionately. “A-and what’s the gift?” You asked, and he chuckled—perhaps at the fact that he hadn’t yet rendered you speechless. He grazed over your clit and you hissed, your hips pushing forward to meet his fingers. 
“Oh baby, Buck’s the one that’s good at lists.” He murmured. He sucked your earlobe into his mouth, worrying it with his teeth as he drew back and forth maddeningly slowly down the folds of your pussy. “We want to take care of you.” He slid a single finger into your tight cunt, and you clenched greedily around it. He let out an almost pained groan, dragging his teeth down the side of your neck as he thrust against you. “Shit, sweetheart, you’re so wet already.”
You gasped and moaned, a needy, hungry sound. “Know he couldn’t knock you up, right, sweetheart?” Your eyes shot open. How does he know that? He’d blamed you for not conceiving, though you would both later come to realize it was because he was sick. He never apologized. “We’ll give you babies, doll. As many as you want.” His words shouldn’t have made warmth spread through your belly, even as the panic alarm rings in your psyche. Have I taken my pill since I got here? You wonder fleetingly, but Steve doesn’t give you more time to ponder it. “What else do you want, sweet? Big house? Nicer car?”
What’s your price?
What was pathetic was that it wasn’t even as high as all that. You didn’t require their money, their gadgets, their connections. What you wanted was both far less and far more at the same time—“I just want someone to love me.” Your desire lived in a quiet, exhaled breath between the two of you. You wished you were a pettier person, that what you wanted could be measured in dollars—perhaps then you wouldn’t feel so fucking stupid. It was the truth of you, the raw, bruised core that you tried to hide.
Love was all you wanted. 
And no price was too high to pay for it. 
“Oh doll.” His mouth was searing hot and soft on the back of your throat, and his teeth rasped against your skin. “That’s all we want to do.” Steve curled his fingers inside you, and you groaned loudly. “Keep that up and you’ll have Bucky in here too.” He chuckled. Steve withdrew his fingers from you, the wet noise of your cunt sucking at them seeming to echo in the cool darkness. You whimpered, only for him to replace it with his cock. He pushed into you painfully slowly, leaving you panting with every added inch. 
“G-God,” You whined, pushing your hips back toward his. Steve held you still with little effort, spooning you gently while he filled you with slow, heavy thrusts. It was almost agonizing, and you writhed in his arms. 
“I know, doll. You feel so fucking good, just like I knew you were gonna.” He groaned, palming your breasts and twisting your nipples. “Fuck, gonna take such good care of you.” You were full of Steve in every sense—his cock, his voice, and you were drunk on his promises too. You believed them, wanted them to be true more than anything. He sank into you as more muttered praises and words of assurance fell against your heated skin. His cock dragging along your sensitive, swollen walls was making you see stars as you choked on your breath. 
“Steve, please, please…” You didn’t even recognize the needy whimpers escaping you—was that really you? A particularly hard thrust had him bottoming out inside you, the head of his cock planted firmly against your cervix. A gurgled moan left your lips as your head fell back against his shoulder. He continued rocking into you, each slow meeting of your hips sending tendrils of pleasure up your spine. It was both too much and still not enough, and you found yourself reaching back to run your hands over as much of him as you could reach, pleading as you sunk your nails into the flesh of his arm. 
“You want me to knock you up, sweetheart?” He growled into your throat as his pace increased, his hips snapping roughly against your own. You couldn’t think, the pleasure blanking every other thought from your brain. Your filter was gone too, every fleeting thought reaching your lips in that breathy whine. “
“Yes, Steve, fu-uck—” Tightness built in your belly, a sinfully pleasurable pressure that made itself known in the stars that burst behind your closed eyes. 
“I know, doll. You want me to fill that pretty pussy up with my cum till it’s leakin’ out, right?” It was less of a question and more of a statement of fact—he was going to do it whether you wanted him to or not, and luckily for you, you did. You wanted to feel the sweet ache of this later, feel the burning between your thighs and know he was the cause of it all. You nodded, unsure if you were imagining the hiccoughing, sobbing moans echoing loudly in the little bedroom.
You were drunk on him, spiraling higher and higher on the razor thin coil of pleasure that he wound tighter and tighter within you. Every breath you managed to draw in around your own blissful cries was immediately forced out of you again with the push of his cock against your cervix, rubbing against that part of you that made you see fucking supernovas.
 “Thas’ it doll,” Steve slurred, his words lost in breathy pants and the growls spilling across your skin. “Gonna soak my cock, yeah?” You could only mewl helplessly in response, there aren’t any words left on your tongue and in your brain that aren’t please and more and Ste-eve. “F-fuck, squeezin me so fuckin’ tight—” He let out a ragged groan as you did, your cunt sucking his cock into you and holding him there, the head of him pressed tightly against your cervix.
 His hips were pressing hard into your ass, less thrusting and more pushing, trying to shove himself  as deep inside of you as it’s possible to go—hell, maybe even deeper. He was the one to remind you snidely of your noise level, but he cums with a gutteral bellow that made your ears ring, and your cunt gush wetly around him as he held your hips still. You can feel him leaking out around the seal of his still throbbing cock, the combined slick of both of you staining your inner thighs. You’re not sure how long you laid there, gulping down eager breaths in the early morning darkness, but when your brain finally reboots itself, the first thing you hear is him. 
“Love you so much, gonna take such good care of you sweet girl—” over and over into your hair until you’re not sure if he’s still speaking, or if your mind is parroting the words back to you on an endless loop. Whether by stubbornness alone, or the bone deep exhaustion now settling over you, you forced your eyes shut and willed yourself to sleep as Steve’s fingers ran lovingly through your messy hair. 
And when you woke again, your bed was empty, the stickiness between your thighs the only indicator that he’d ever even been there. 
——
“Good morning, princess.” Bucky pulled you against his chest from behind, and your surprised squeal turns into a giggle as he tugged at the strings of your bikini bottoms with eager fingers. He ran his nose down the side of your throat, inhaling the scent of you like it’s the only thing that matters. You slapped his hands away before he could finish undoing them, and he made a show of holding the abused appendages to his chest, aghast. “You’re only getting away with that because I know you were a good girl for Stevie this morning,” His tone was warning, but there was a mirth in his eyes when he looked at you, and it made your stomach warm and your chest tight. 
You felt your face flush at his comment, and turn to peek at Steve through your hair. He winked at you, running his tongue over his lips hungrily. “A real good girl, Buck.” He cracked an egg into the frying pan in front of him. “So good I want to give her whatever she wants.” You don’t like spending their money, and it feels even less good to have them heaping it on you, but you already knew it was a useless exercise to argue. Bucky kissed your cheek, his hands massaging the flesh of your hips just above your cover-up.
At the reminder of this morning, you feel the comfortable warmth slip just a bit as you recall the fact that you haven’t taken a single birth control pill for going on three days now. It didn’t matter if you forgot with Glenn sometimes, he was impotent after all, and he fucked you with such irregularity that even missing a week probably wouldn’t have presented much of a problem. 
“I like the sound of that,” Bucky replied, his hands still warm on your hips. “You want to take a dip and then do a little shopping, princess?” He asked, grinning. “See if we can’t get some more pretty things for me n’ Stevie to tear off you.” Maybe it was your fidgeting that gave it away, or the hurried kiss you return to Bucky’s stubbled cheek, but he pulls away from you, frowning. “Something wrong, doll?” 
“No,” You said quickly—too quickly, because Steve peered up at you with the same curious, observant look as Bucky. “I just, I forgot something, um, in my room.” You know neither of them really buy the half-lie as it leaves your lips, but Steve returned to flipping his eggs, and Bucky watched you go with interested eyes. You pulled the door closed behind you, grabbing the sunglasses off of the dresser as a decoy. 
Your little, ratty duffel bag was still next to the bed, unzipped. You rifled through it until your hand closed around the pill bottle at the bottom. Heaving a sigh of relief, you peer at the orange plastic, squinting. Three—no, four—pills remain, rattling around inside. You perch the sunglasses on your head, before popping the cap off. I think I read somewhere you can take extra doses if you miss a few, right? Your phone was sitting on the counter right next to Bucky, so it’s not like you can check. 
Two days of missed birth control wasn’t enough to result in a pregnancy, right? You thought nervously, remembering just how thoroughly the two men in the kitchen have filled you at every opportunity, and suddenly you were frantically shaking a third pill out of the bottle. 
“Doll?” Oh no. You were almost afraid to look up, afraid to meet his gaze. You dragged your eyes reluctantly up Bucky’s form, your lip trembling as he leaned against the doorframe. “What is that?” 
“I, um… my birth control.” You murmur, clutching the pills tightly in your shaking hand. “I forgot when we got here, and I didn’t, I’m not trying to—” You know you’re terrible under pressure, and the weight of his eyes is too much for you as you struggle to explain yourself. Steve’s heated promises were as electrifying as they were scary; adding a baby to the mix wouldn’t have been wise from any standpoint. You tried to say as much, but the words were lost in the jumble, scrambling themselves in your mouth before they had the opportunity to leave your lips. 
“Come here.” Bucky’s voice was gentle, but firm. You took a tentative step, and he nodded. “Good girl.” He squatted in front of you, though with his massive height, he was only just below your eye level. He took your hand, and with soft strokes, coaxed your fingers open. “You don’t need these, sweetheart. Didn’t Stevie tell you we were gonna take care of you?” Your heart was hammering so fast in your chest you were sure he had to have heard it. You tried to close your fingers back around the slim, tan pills in your hand, but Bucky was faster, tipping your palm to the side so that they rolled right into his hand. 
“Let’s go throw these out.” He stood, looking down at them disdainfully. Wild panic erupted in your chest, and you tugged at his arm. Don’t you want kids? The dark thing hissed, and your steps faltered, just a little.
“Wait, Bucky—”
“Steve won’t be mad at you, baby, I promise.” He said, pulling easily from your grip. “I’m not mad either.” You didn’t know how to explain that it wasn’t their anger you feared, not this time. You could only watch helplessly, trailing behind him as he walked toward the bathroom and tipped them into the toilet. “Give me the bottle, princess.” He held his hand out behind him, and you dropped it into his palm, listening to the pill rattle as he shook it out into the toilet with it’s kin. He pulled you in for a kiss, and you didn’t resist, swallowing the protest that threatened to erupt out of you. 
“Let’s have breakfast, baby.” 
Give you everything you want, The dark thing reminded you, slithering through your psyche to settle heavily in your heart. Give you anything. Just be good. You hated the way you cowed, the way you nodded and pressed into Bucky’s hand as he stroked your cheek. You preened at his attention, even knowing he’d just hammered yet another bar securely into place in the gilded cage they were building for you. A baby makes it harder to leave. You knew that—you’d known it when Glenn had asked you too, just eight months into your union when things were already starting to sour. 
Do you want to leave? The dark thing caressed your face with smoky tendrils made of painful memories. They love you. The thought makes your chest ache with the impossibility of it all. You don’t know what good love looks like, not anymore, but perhaps this is the closest you’ll ever get. These men were willing to kill for you—had killed for you—who else could say the same? 
Steve was still in the kitchen, putting the finishing touches on the breakfast you were still surprised he’d insisted on cooking, with the sheer amount of food stuffed into the refrigerator. “Everything okay?” He asked, though you knew it was geared towards Bucky, not you. 
“Oh yeah.” Bucky digs into his eggs. “Silly princess didn’t know she could throw out her birth control.” He said easily, his hand still rubbing circles into the small of your back. A wide grin broke across Steve’s face, and as he set your plate down in front of you, he grabbed your left hand, smoothing his fingers across your palm, skimming purposefully across the indents left in your skin by your old wedding bands. 
“Eat up, doll.” He lifted your hand to his lips, brushing them across your knuckles as he smiled achingly sweet at you. “Long day.” 
——
You’re sleepy and sluggish from the sun and the sea when Bucky and Steve finally loaded you into the red convertible, lowering the top as Steve drove along the coast toward town. You watched the water sparkle, reflecting the bright sunlight like precious jewels. 
“Where do you want to go first, sweetheart?” Steve asked, looking over at you in the passenger seat. “It’s all about you, today.” You know what this is, of course; an attempt to smooth over the roughness of the night before and to placate you for your sacrifice this morning. 
I wonder what the typical diamond size is for knocking up your pet. The thought shocked you, partly because of its accuracy, and partly because it was the kind of thing that dark, slinky thing living in your mind and in your heart would say, not you. You were a pet, though. A pretty, cute little doll for them to dress and fuck and show off. 
You hated that you didn’t mind it. 
“I don’t know.” You played with the buckle of your seatbelt. “Is there… a used bookstore or anything?” 
“Yeah, I think so. Near the seafood place.” Bucky piped up from the back seat. He leaned forward, ignoring Steve’s irritated scowl as he reached into the front to point. “If you take a left up here, it’ll be easier.” You can’t help but giggle just a little at the way Steve threatens to bite Bucky’s outstretched finger. Their cute bickering made it easier to forget the hardness in Bucky’s eyes as he’d waited for you to hand over your birth control pills, and the satisfied expression on Steve’s face when he found out you had. 
Bucky and Steve helped you out of the car when you arrived, a wholly unnecessary feat that simply allowed them to grope you discreetly as they appeared to help you smooth out the wrinkles in your flouncy sundress. Bucky’s hand skirted under the hem of your dress to cup your pussy as his eyes flashed. 
“Ready, doll?” 
Even their constant hunger for the wetness at the apex of your thighs couldn’t spoil this moment—it was strangely exciting to be the one deciding where you went and what you did. You nodded excitedly, glancing up at the three-story building in front of you. They sold old and new books, and there was a cafe at the bottom, where Steve suggested the three of you could grab lunch when you were done. A little bell rang over the door when you pushed it open, and an older man with a scruffy beard barely looked up to greet you. “Used stuff’s downstairs. Top floor’s kids.” He clarified when you asked what the sections were. 
Finally, you were in your element, surrounded by old books and manuscripts. You had precious few books at home—only your most treasured books remained at your parents house, as you’d learned the hard way that when he wasn’t trying to break you, Glenn was just as willing to break your things. You didn’t even pull any out at first, content to walk slowly down the aisles as you ran your fingertips across the spines. 
The first book you slid from the shelves was a ghost story, an old one. You flipped gingerly through the pages before handing it off to Bucky, who stood dutifully behind you. “What’s this one?” He asked, and you glanced over your shoulder.
 “Horror. I… like scary stories.” You admitted with a blush. Bucky looked surprised, turning it over in his hands. You watched him read the summary, before beginning to flip through it. 
“Didn’t peg you for that kind of girl,” He said with a chuckle. “Real life not scary enough for you?” 
“It’s too scary.” You agreed, smiling a little. “But these are just…stories. I can put them down.” It went on like that for the entire used book floor, Bucky chatting idly to you about each one you selected, asking you why. It was… nice. Almost like a date. His hand was warm around your waist as he attempted to balance all of your selections in one arm. Going anywhere that you wanted to had always ended up being a struggle with Glenn, a contest of wills to see who could outlast the other. Bucky seemed satisfied to stroke the soft skin between your shoulders with the pads of his fingers, making quiet conversation as you browsed. 
“Tell Banner I’ll be there.” Steve followed behind, talking quietly on his phone about things you couldn’t hear, and probably didn’t want to know about. Soon, however, he was laden with at least ten novels, a fact you only realized when one of your recent selections thudded to the floor behind you. 
“Oops.” 
“Tell you what, sweet. Why don’t we go buy these, and when you’re finished, you can meet us down in the cafe.” You knew it was his way of telling you he was hungry. You nodded quickly. 
“I mean, I don’t need all of—” You attempted to steal back a few books out of the stack and return them to the shelves, but he dodged your grabbing hands. 
“No. As many as you want.”
“I’ll never read them all,” You said, laughing a little. Bucky shrugged. 
“So?” 
Steve pulled away from his phone to grasp your chin in two fingers. “Whatever you want, doll, remember?” He said hotly, before dragging his mouth over your own. When the two of them finally left you, you were breathless, leaning on the bookshelf behind you for support. 
Whatever I want. 
That phrase was starting to become almost too common in their vocabulary. You wondered what, if anything they would refuse you. You didn’t have a laundry list of things you wanted on standby, and you’d never been one to ask for lavish gifts. Their offers of opulence and money were all well and good—you just hadn’t a single clue what to do with it. That, and other, darker thoughts occupied you as you tried to focus on browsing after bidding your—men? boyfriends?—goodbye, and promising to meet them in fifteen minutes. 
But every time you tried to select a new book, the thoughts would return. They made you flush your pills. Didn’t really give you a choice. They’re killers. But… they were also sweet and doting, and you’d never experienced kindness like you had at their hands, not even from your own parents. You held a book in your hand, your fingers running idly over the pages you weren’t really seeing. 
It was probably why it was so easy to sneak up on you. 
“Good book? Haven’t read it, myself.” The low voice made you turn quickly, your heart roaring in your ears. It was the detective from the night before, standing next to you in the narrow aisle. He wasn’t facing you, standing as though he himself were merely browsing. You got the feeling his comment was a formality, a greeting meant to alert you to his presence. 
“I-I don’t know.” You immediately knew that you shouldn’t talk to him. Bucky and Steve wouldn’t want you to—perhaps that was why he was there in the first place, to get you alone. “I-I-I s-should go.” You tried to put the book back, and fumbled it a few times before replacing it on the shelf. 
“No, wait, please.” He reached out a hand to stop you. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you, really.” Fury smiled in a way you knew was meant to be comforting, but instead made you even more uncomfortable. 
“I don’t—”
“I just want to ask a few questions. Just about you, okay?” He held his hands up, a peace offering. “Not them. Just you.” 
“Just me.” You repeated, nodding. “Okay.” He exhaled a breath. 
“Okay.” He glanced around, checking for your protectors before proceeding. “What’s your name? Let’s start there.” Your eyes traveled the same paths his did before you answered. You hadn’t even heard your own name in so long—just doll, and princess. Baby. Sweetheart. He nodded. “Nice to meet you. I’m Nick.” His eyes stray to your bare left ring finger, and you know he sees the marks. “Married?” 
“Ye—No. Not anymore.” Everything about you was stiff, your face, your posture. You weren’t sure what to make of this, what to say, to do. This still felt like both a dream and a nightmare happening concurrently, and Nick’s sudden appearance was the pinprick that burst the bubble. 
“Are you here against your will?” He said quietly, and you swallowed thickly, recoiling backwards at his question. “Wait, wait, please, I can help you. I can get you out of here, into witness protection.” He fished around in his pocket, and produced a crumpled piece of paper, handing it to you. You unfolded it—a phone number. “That’s—”
“This conversation is finished, detective.” 
Steve.
His hand was gentle but firm on your shoulder, and you melted into him, your heart finally slowing down. Steve’s here. You’re safe. 
Am I safe?
The tension was thick enough to be palpable in the air and you couldn’t stop looking back and forth between the two of them. “Are you okay, doll?” He asked without looking at you, his thumb smoothing over the skin of your shoulder. Suddenly you were more glad than ever that you were in the bookstore, and not in the club back home. If you were, you were certain Steve would be holding a gun right now. 
“I’m okay.” Steve looked down at you then, eyes narrowed, searching for something. “R-really.” You stuttered, your face heating as you looked away. He glared back up at Fury. 
“Don’t worry, sweetness. I’ll put in a call to his superiors.” Steve growled. “Make sure they know their officer’s here hassling women for no goddamn reason.”
“There a crime against shopping in bookstores now?” Fury shot back, a knowing smirk spreading across his face. “I’m asking you because I’m sure you’d know.” He looked at you again, nodding his head. “Ma’am.” 
“Don’t fucking speak to her!” Steve barked, and you jumped at the volume of his voice. 
 “No problem, Rogers, I was just leaving.” The detective turned and left, not looking back once as he exited. Steve turned you to face him cupping your face as he ran his fingers over your cheeks.
“What did he ask you, doll?” His eyes bored into yours. “What did he say to you?” His touch was soft, affectionate even, but his gaze was questioning. 
“I—he—he asked about me. Just me.” You said quickly. “He asked me my name. And… and if I was married. I think he saw my ring marks.” You held up your hand to show him. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean—”
“You’re a good girl, doll. Aren’t you?” His grip tightened on you just a little, and you nodded hurriedly. 
“Yes.” 
“A loyal girl, right? To me, and to Buck.” His eyes were bright and cold then, and you were reminded of how he’d looked at Glenn. 
You swallowed thickly. “O-of course. I-I-I want to be with you.” You weren’t sure if you were saying it because he wanted to hear it, or because you really did. Maybe both were true at the same time, because the warm smile that broke out across his features made answering heat bloom in your chest. You liked when they were happy with you. You liked making them happy. Was that wrong? 
So what if it is? The dark thing’s touch lingered just underneath Steve’s, a phantom mimic trailing just behind him. Live. 
“I know sweet. I know you do. That’s why we picked you, knew you would be perfect and grateful.” He kissed you then, achingly sweet, his tongue moving gently against your lips until you parted for him easily. “So sweet,” he muttered against your lips. He gave your ass an appreciative squeeze before letting you go reluctantly. 
Live for yourself.
“Starting without me again?” Bucky groused from behind you, and you turned your head just in time for his mouth to come down hard on yours. He pressed against your back protectively, his tongue slipping between your lips to stroke your own. He pulled up to kiss your nose, before peering at Steve over your head. 
“He gone?” 
“Who fucking knows?” Steve replied exasperatedly. “He was meant to have left last night. Maybe he needs a clearer warning.” You could hear the threat in his voice, but Bucky shook his head. 
“I think we should go home.” He said, wrapping his arms around your shoulders as he rested his chin on your head. “I like this town, I don’t want to have a shootout here.” He quipped, and Steve was forced to laugh. He looked down at you. 
“Sorry to disappoint you, princess. Vacation’s cut short.” You were disappointed. You’d been having a good time, despite the confusing feelings warring with one another in your skull. How would this work back in the real world? 
“I, um, I understand.”
“Don’t pout, baby. You’re coming home with us.” You furrowed your brows in confusion. Of course you were going home with them—they’d driven you here. Seeing the confusion on your face made Steve’s charming smile even wider. “You’re moving in, doll.” 
Oh.
This was good, wasn’t it? Proved that they wanted you beyond just this one time. So why did you feel like something had broken in you the moment he’d sad it? Something vital and precious. The shadow swept the broken shards from your consciousness, and it spoke with your mouth. 
“Thank you.” 
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chokemewanda · 13 days ago
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Masterlist
Perfect Life Masterlist
Warnings: swearing, discussion of torture, dark!Bucky
Perfect is never real.
It ended the same way it had begun. Which was without warning. One minute you were scrubbing a casserole dish in some housewives apron the next you were sitting on the living room floor of an abandoned house.
You were back in your jeans and sweatshirt, knees clutched to your chest. You couldn't stop sobbing long enough to go up the stairs and see if there was actual children up there.
Bucky burst in the door, metal arm intact and leather jacket on instead of the overalls and white undershirt he had worn to work that morning.
"I think I'm going to be sick." You told him through sobs. "What the hell did she do to us?"
"The kids, did you check on the girls?" Bucky asked breathlessly like he'd run all the way over from the shop.
You shook your head, sniffling and he bolted up the stairs. When he reappeared there were two little girls on either of his hips and he tried to shush their crying.
You couldn't even look at them. They'd been some trivial conversation topic the last few weeks. Oh God you were actually going to puke.
You couldn't stop crying. All of your grief came back ten-fold and you wondered how you could've ever forgotten her. You had promised her.
You didn't even notice him coming back. You were borderline hysterical.
"You okay?" Bucky was sat on the bottom step of the stair case, forearms rested on his thighs and his head hung low so his hair covered his face.
"No." You answered shortly. "But I can't imagine how you're feeling."
"Me?" He asked, confused. He looked up, brow furrowed. "Just like you are, I bet."
"It felt awful. To forget, to pretend I was someone else. I know I had no choice and Wanda had probably been playing on our desires but for you to have beaten the hold Hydra had over you just for this to happen? Bucky I'm so sorry." You whispered, wiping your tears away roughly, frustrated when they wouldn't just stop.
He didn't speak, his adam's apple bobbing when he swallowed harshly. "Y/N there's something I need to tell you."
"I really don't like your tone right now." You looked up, eyes hard as he clenched his hands into fists.
"I-" He didn't say it but he didn't need to. From that one syllable you heard all of it.
"You knew." You nodded slowly, your arms wrapping tighter around your knees. "You knew what was going on and you did nothing to stop it."
"I tried, I talked to her. She told me to leave. She was going to put me outside the zone and I worried about what would happen." He tried and you scoffed.
"So you stayed and fucked me and made me the perfect little 40's housewife. You made sure I wouldn't remember because if I did you knew it would never happen." You hissed. "So you made me your little trophy wife and stole my grief from me."
"You didn't need it-" He tried to argue but you weren't having it.
"Of course I needed it! She was my soulmate and I was the only one left who didn't pretend that things were okay. I missed her and I honored her memory and I promised her that I wouldn't ever forget her! I promised her that as she slipped from my hold and plunged to her death just to fucking bring you all back!" You screamed.
"Baby, I'm-" He whispered and you looked up, eyes hard.
"I'm not your fucking baby. I'm not your stupid wife, I'm not even your friend right now. I just want you to leave me alone." You told him, running a hand down your face.
"Y/N, please." He sighed and you laughed, no humor behind it. You wanted to hurt him.
"Please what?" You asked, pushing yourself up from the floor. "What could you possibly think you have the right to ask me for? You want me to give us a try? You want me to pet your fragile fucking ego because life is tough for Bucky fucking Barnes?"
"No, it's, I didn't-" He stood up to, fighting to find the words to explain himself.
"Didn't what? Didn't mean to do to me what Hydra did to you? Except you didn't, did you? Because you knew Hydra was your enemy. I thought you were my friend." You spat.
"You initiated everything that happened between us." He argued and you laughed bitterly. He was on the defensive now that he knew you wouldn't give in.
"Every single line I used on you was from Wanda's script. I don't love you and I sure as fuck don't want to have your kids." You wanted to hurt him, to assure him that it never would have happened had you any control over the situation. "You were basically my fucking Handler. You were to me what Alexander Pierce was to you."
You could see it in his eyes, the explosive pain he felt at your words, he crumpled like a puppet who'd had his strings cut and you felt that awful satisfaction you had buried deep down after years of doing the wrong thing to hurt people on propose. You had never been that person with Natasha but she wasn't here now.
You had no one to protect you anymore. You were back to having to protect yourself.
"You could be pregnant." He tried and you rolled your eyes.
"I'm on birth control. Just because I was with a woman doesn't mean I wasn't." You sighed and raised your arm, pressing on the small implant. "Big changes since the forties. We're not all just waiting around for big strong men to come home and breed us."
"You're lying." He argued and finally stood up, the same anger you felt flashing in his eyes.
"Lying?" You scoffed. "I'd invite you over to feel it but I don't ever want your hands on my body again. So fuck you Bucky. You were right, Hydra did fuck you up beyond repair. Steve was right to leave you in the dust."
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diamond-coral · 14 days ago
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Defiance
Steve Rogers x Reader x Bucky Barnes
WARNINGS: noncon/DUBCON: (oral sex (m and f receiving), intercourse, spitroasting), degradation, sexism. Please read at your own discretion!!!!!
Summary: You ignore Steve’s order on a mission. Him and Bucky have had enough of your bratty attitude.
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“You’re decision was fucking stupid! I wasn’t going to follow an order that jeopardized the objective of the mission we’ve been planning for months!”
It had been like this for the past hour. You, Bucky, and Steve in the conference room at the compound in a screaming match over your little insubordination act on the most recent mission.
“Fine! Call my order, the one that ensured your safety, stupid. But what you did was reckless and impulsive and not only put your life on the line, but the others’ as well. Jesus, y/n, how do you even think like that?!” Letting out an exasperated sigh, Steve pinched the bridge of his nose and began pacing. “Your thought process was selfish and careless and you need to learn to listen instead of behaving like a brat.”
“He’s right,” Bucky chimed in. “Man I miss the good ol’ days when women knew their place and didn’t constantly have a snarky mouth on them.”
You cast the dark haired man a warning look, but he just smirked in response. He never made his sexist remarks directed toward anyone else. Only you. It was like he was aware of just how much his little comments riled you up, and just said them to make you see red, working them into conversations when you and the others would hang out. You’d get angry, spewing insults and jabs in his direction, and yet, it wouldn’t do more than simply amuse him.
“Bucky, I swear to God, you better not fucking bring this bullshit up right now or I’ll-”
“Or you’ll what, hmm? You think you’re a match for me, y/n?” His position on his chair, leaning back, legs spread, arms crossed, only added to the cocky grin that was now plastered on his face. “All I’m saying is that I feel like it’d be a win-win situation if you stayed back on the missions. You wouldn’t have to worry your pretty little head about high risk missions, and we’d get someone to stay back and take care of the base, maybe cook us a meal or two.” He got up and stalked towards you. You took a step back and hit the edge of the meeting table causing his lip to twitch upwards. “Even better…” He leaned down to speak next to your ear and you shuddered as his warm breath travelled down your neck. “We’d have a pretty little whore always ready to help us when we’re worked up.”
Your eyes went wide and you used both you arms to push him away from you (but in all honesty you were pretty sure he just stepped back on his own accord). “W-what the fuck Barnes,” you sputtered and glanced at Steve for help or some sort of interference, but Steve looked unphased as he rested his back against the wall, arms crossed. The only indication that he was intrigued were his blue eyes that glimmered with interest.
“Come on, Doll, I know you want it. You know we hear your pulse quicken every time one of us walks in a room.” He tapped his ear. “Enhanced hearing comes in handy.”
You felt your face grow warm, eyes on the floor as you remembered all the times your heart would jackhammer every time one of the supersoldiers came into view. Every night that your back would arch as you orgasmed to the thought of them with their hands on you. Every one night stand that you imagined one of them on top of you. You didn’t even notice as he neared until his right hand was brought under your chin to tilt your gaze to meet his own. His bright eyes held amusement. The bastard found this funny.
“Your despicable Barnes,” you spat.
“And you’re cute when you lie,” he said.
Before you can counter, his lips attacked your own, soft to the touch yet harsh in action as he brought his metal arm to snake around your waist to lift you up so sat on the table behind you. You let out a soft groan, and he used the opportunity to snake his tongue into your mouth. The unwelcome intrusion broke you out of your trance and you pulled away.
“Fuck you.” You began to get up, but he pushed you back down, this time all the way until you were on your back.
“Oh, gladly doll,” he murmured. He yanked everything off your legs before he lowered himself on his knees. “Catch,” he called to Steve as he threw your lacy panties in the broad supersoldier’s direction. You didn’t miss as Steve pocketed them.
“What the hell are you-.” You cut yourself off with your own squeal as Bucky licked a stripe up your folds. 
You began to buck your hips at the sensation in hopes of throwing him off and cutting your embarrassment short, but his metal arm came up and laid across your stomach. Bucky inhaled and let out a groan. “Holy shit you smell good, doll.” He flattened his tongue and licked another stripe before burying his face in your cunt and zeroing in on your clit. 
You whimpered as you felt his warm tongue circle your needy clit. The sounds that echoed throughout the room were lewd as he ate you out as if it were his last meal. 
“Bucky oh my God, please,” you begged as another slurping sound resonated throughout the room, but whether it was for him to stop or keep going, you couldn’t tell anymore.
“Taste. So. Good.” He said between each lick to your pussy. He inserted two thick, calloused fingers into your hole and pulled his mouth away, noticing your whine. “You say you don’t want this but your cunt says otherwise doll.” He smirked, and began to move his fingers faster, the squelching sounds seemingly spurring him on.
He put his mouth back down on you and began attacking you with more vigor. With each swipe over your sensitive nub, you could feel the coil inside of you begin to form. It was only when he wrapped his lips around your lips and began to also suck did you feel it tighten. He hummed against you and the vibrations went straight to your core. 
“Fuck Bucky. Yes,” you cried. He delivered another harsh suck and your hand flew to his hair.
Even as he ate you out you could feel his cocky grin form against you as you began to grind your hips to push you closer to the edge. A few minutes later, you came. Hard. You moaned as white hot pleasure overtook your whole body, covering the shame of cumming even though ten minutes ago you were practically recoiling at Bucky’s touch.
Bucky pulled away, mouth glistening with your arousal, and watched as your cunt pulsed and your body muscles contracted in your post orgasm haze. Thirty seconds later, you were hit with a wave of clarity, but before you could grab you clothes and get the fuck out of the room, a voice came from beside Bucky.
“Finally,” Steve said, and you jumped, not knowing he had moved from his spot. You noticed he’d taken his shirt off and there was now a very prominent bulge in his slacks.
You began to inch away from the man. “Steve, I-,” you began.
“Call me Captain, sweetheart,” he mused as he grabbed you by your hair and maneuvered you so you were standing, your front against the table. He pressed himself against your ass. “You know, we still need to fix your bratty attitude.” And with that his hand was flat against your back and bending you over the table. You grit your teeth as the table dug into your pelvis. “What do you think Buck? 10?”
“I would’ve said 20 but it’s not like a call the shots around here,” Bucky said, shrugging.
“What?” you said, and you were about to turn around to see what they were talking about, but a harsh smack to your ass quickly stopped you. 
“Count,” Steve growled while his hand came down for another.
“One!” You yelped.
Another hit to your ass. “One, what?” he asked in a teasing voice. He was mocking you.
“One, Captain,” you said with as much venom as you could.
“Good girl,” he mused before he delivered another to your other cheek.
“Two, Captain.” You were embarrassed at how your voice came out as a moan.
Eight more later, your ass was stinging as he rubbed it with a large hand before that same hand dipped into your folds to feel your arousal. “Gosh, you really must be such a slut if you got wet to that,” he chuckled.
He held his digits in front of you. “Open up, sweetheart.”
You stared daggers up at him but opened your mouth anyways, licking your own arousal from his fingers. Steve let out a satisfied hum before he pulled his fingers away.
“Now, what to do about that mouth of yours, hmm?” 
He walked around the table behind you, and you bit back bile as you heard him work his zipper down. 
“Turn her around Buck,” the Captain ordered, and in no time, Bucky was on you. Despite your struggles he manhandled you onto your hands and knees on the table so you were turned around facing Steve’s now hard member. “Suck.”
When you did nothing but stare back up at him, a harsh slap was delivered to your face. Steve bent down so he was eye level with you.
“You’re gonna listen to your fuckin’ Captain and be a good little slut and suck your Captain’s dick, or I’ll choke you till your unconscious and fuck your throat anyways,” he seethed.
Hesitantly you opened your mouth, and Steve shoved his cock in all the way, groaning when he hit the back of your throat.
“See Buck? Women are all the same nowadays. All bark and no bite. Just need to be shown their place and then they become good little fucktoys. Mindless whores.” 
Steve talking to Bucky right over you while he slid his dick in and out of his mouth made your face burn in humiliation, and even worse, turned you on, but you had little time to process it as Bucky’s hands were on your ass shortly, spreading it to get a good view of your pussy.
“Fuck Stevie, she’s wet.”
“Guess- you gotta- help her out.” Steve’s head was thrown back, face contorted into an expression of pure bliss, as he managed to string together a couple words to reply.
Ignoring your whines of protest around Steve’s dick, Bucky freed his own shaft and jerked himself off a few times before impaling you. You screamed a little at the intrusion that burned you walls, but Steve just ignored you and revelled in the vibrations it sent down his dick.
“Fuck she’s tight,” Bucky moaned, and began moving.
You whines and whimpers soon turned to moans, mixing with the obscene noises the two supersoldiers were making. Seconds and minutes began to blend together and you lost track of time as Steve and Bucky showed little mercy on you, chasing their own pleasure. As Bucky’s thrusts grew more brutal and quicker, your cunt began to clench around him.
“Shit. I think she’s about to come.” Bucky let out a breathy laugh as he picked up his pace.
“Told you. Mindless whore,” Steve replied, as both his hands were locked in your hair, pulling your mouth up and down his length.
At Steve’s words and Bucky’s renewed vigor, the dam inside you broke. 
“That’s it doll, milk my cock.” Bucky felt you practically squeeze the life out of his cock as you gushed around him, and his thrusts began to stutter. “Gonna. Come.” And with one final harsh thrust from him he bottomed inside you, cock twitching while his cum spilt deep into you.
Steve gave a few more thrusts into you throat before he spilt down your throat. He looked down at you and chuckled.  
“You look so good like this; Lips wrapped around my cock while you swallow my cum.”
___________________________________________________________________________
It had been a few minutes. Bucky and Steve were tucking themselves away back into their pants while you sat on the table catching your breath.
“Told you bringing in Bucky would be fun, sweetheart,” Steve said, cupping your cheek as he looked at you, panting and completely out of it. “But did you really purposely ignore my orders on a mission just to get me riled up?”
You sat up on the table. “I like it better when you're rough,” you giggled before giving him a peck on the lips. “And you…” You pointed a finger at Bucky. “If I find any bruises from that damn metal hand of yours, I’ll kill you.”
“I told you earlier, you really think you could take me?” Bucky teased, mouth in his classic lopsided grin.
A knock on the meeting room door sounded through the room before you could make a snarky comeback.
“Hey fuckers,” Tony’s muffled voice came through the otherside of the closed door. We have soundproof bedrooms for a reason. You guys better fucking clean up after acting like a bunch of horny teenagers.”
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chokemewanda · 14 days ago
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Masterlist
Perfect Life Masterlist
Warnings: dub-con, smut, dark!bucky, breeding kink
Perfect doesn’t last forever. But Bucky might have a clue to what does.
“What the fuck were they thinking?” You growled, pressing your foot to floor. Bucky was sitting next to you in the car but you could tell he wasn’t paying you any attention. “Showing her his body?”
“Ridiculous.” Bucky filled the silence but you couldn’t hear the anger in his voice. Not like you could feel it burning all your nerve endings. She was just a kid!
You had to remind yourself that she wasn’t the same teenager who you had held when she sobbed for hours over loosing her brother. In your mind she was always going to be that lost little girl.
But it wasn’t true. She was a woman now with powers that no one else could begin to measure up to. Which was why you had to stop her before she hurt herself or worse, someone else.
"Now might not be the time to tell you this." Bucky hesitated and you looked from the road to him and back, already knowing what he was going to say.
"Then don't." You sighed, pressing your foot harder down on the pedal. You wanted to pull the car over and cry. Cry for Wanda and for Natasha and for Bucky who was so sad he was desperate.
"It's just. We seem to want pretty similar things in life and I know that we could have had something before. We're both dealing with a shared past. I think we could be good together." He told you quietly and you punched the bridge of your nose with your hand, sighing.
You had a thing for helping strays. One look at those lost eyes and damaged souls and you would move heaven and earth to help them. It happened with Bucky and Wanda. You just wanted to help.
In Wanda’s mind you had become an older sister, someone for her to come to for advice. You adored her and everyone knew it.
In Bucky’s mind he had seen romance where there was none. He sought comfort in your touch and you never denied him because you knew what it was to be only treated with a cruel hand. It had been strictly platonic.
Until he kissed you. You had to bow out then, happily in love with Natasha. You thought he had gotten over it.
"Bucky." You sighed. "We wanted, past tense. I can't have those things anymore. Neither of us can."
"We could just run away. They don't need us here anymore." He wasn't wrong. It seemed you had both lost your place in a broken team. You wouldn't be missed. Anyone who would've missed you was either dead or an old man now.
"Buck." You sighed again. "I just lost 'Tasha. I'm not looking to get married and have kids right now. You're reeling because you just lost the one person who was always in your corner.
"Just think about it." He sighed as if you were going to magically forget the love of your life and her death.
"No. I'm not even going to entertain it. If I had met you when I was young, before all of this then maybe. But with my past and your metal arm, neither of us are the white picket fence type." You told him and felt almost bad when he tugged his sleeve down lower.
“We deserve to be happy. Wasn’t it you who told me that?” He asked with a sigh. “After every nightmare, every panic attack?”
“I was happy. I won’t ever be again. Not without her, not really.” You told him, blowing past the sign that let you know you were entering Westview. “I’ll smile and I’ll laugh but I won’t ever be truly happy again.”
“Pull over.” Bucky sighed and you scoffed. “No seriously, pull over.”
A pillar of red had shot into the sky and you let the car roll to a stop, jaw dropping.
///
Bucky lay on the sofa, you on his chest both watching some boring television show. Neither of you were paying much attention, feeling sleepy.
“I didn’t make dinner.” You sighed against his chest and he smiled, running his fingers through your hair. “I’m sorry.”
He had noticed you didn’t make dinner. You also hadn’t asked about the kids or done any cleaning. Wanda’s grip was slipping so he was content to sit here, just holding you for however long he had left. “Don’t worry about it, baby.”
“Speaking of babies.” You hummed, pressing a kiss to his neck. Bucky stared at the ceiling, his hands flexing on your hips. He knew he shouldn’t. You weren’t in your right mind but he was. Taking advantage of the image Wanda made you wasn’t wise.
Your light kisses turned wet, your tongue and teeth getting involved while your hand slid under his shirt and up his chest. He groaned, rolling his hips against you without really thinking of it.
This was all he would have left, the memory of your hands and lips on his body. But if there was something else, something that would tie you to him. Well, you wouldn’t be able to walk away. You wouldn’t ever leave him.
“Yeah? You want to work on it?” He asked, a sly grin covering his lips. “Want to fuck right here on the couch? Take me raw so I can fuck a baby into you?”
You mewled against his neck and ground your thigh against his cock. “Please.”
He loved to hear you beg, enough so that his cock pulsed a thick bead of pre-cum, dampening his boxers. “You gonna take me right here?”
He slid his hand up under your dress, letting his index finger meet your damp underwear. “Bucky.”
Your lips were still against his neck and every time you whined he could feel the vibrations against his skin. He pushed your underwear aside and found your clit easily. “So fucking wet, gonna ride me baby?”
You nodded against his neck, pushing yourself up until you were straddling his waist, pulling your dress over your head. You got Bucky’s jeans open in record time as he continued to rub your clit.
Instead of getting up you pulled your underwear aside, impaling yourself on his cock. You both moaned together as his free hand came to your hip. You hissed start the cool touch and blinked at the flickering image of a metal hand.
You forgot your worries when Bucky fucked up into you, causing you to whine again. You began to move yourself, meeting him thrust for thrust.
“Gonna make you round with my child. Gonna fuck you until your full of my cum and so big you can’t even walk.” He grunted and you placed your hands on his chest, fingers digging into the muscle there.
“Please Bucky. Please.” You begged, almost sobbing at the pleasure.
“Gonna give it to you baby. Just remember, you asked for it.” He grunted, speed of his hips picking up. He supported you with one hand, the other rubbing wide rapid circles on your clit. “Gonna make you mine. You’re going nowhere.”
“Nowhere.” You promised, voice breaking when your orgasm washed over you.
“Fucking mine.” Bucky came when your walls squeezed around him and he held you still on his cock, holding his cum in you. “You take a breather baby, cause as soon as you’re ready we’re going again.”
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bvccy · 14 days ago
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Nothing to Despair | 18. My dreams under your feet
PAIRING: Soft!Dark!Bucky Barnes x Reader
SYNOPSIS: Bucky and a girl he never met before have to go undercover as married on a mission to Europe. He feels alienated in the modern world, while she goes through life alone and abandoned. Maybe they can find a new home in each other, but she’s not easily convinced.
CHAPTER NOTES: NSFW, the smut escalates. We get soft!dom!Bucky, more strip(tease)ing, body worship, handcuffs/bondage, male masturbation and female frottage featuring the metal arm. Still generally non-con. Thank you once more for your lovely comments, my dears! And thanks to my friend @offcast-plus1​​ for beta reading <3
WORD COUNT: 4.4k
⸻ [MASTERLIST] [AO3] [TAGLIST]
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Had I the heavens' embroidered cloths, Enwrought with golden and silver light, The blue and the dim and the dark cloths Of night and light and the half light, I would spread the cloths under your feet: But I, being poor, have only my dreams; I have spread my dreams under your feet; Tread softly because you tread on my dreams. — William Butler Yeats, Aedh Wishes for the Cloths of Heaven
Bucky kept his promise. There were wild animals tamed with less patience and care than her, and without her even noticing, she was being drained of strength and will: to hold back, to pull away, to clam up physically and emotionally so that he couldn't get in. And Bucky was counting on it. He approached her tenderly every time, all throughout her gradual withdrawals and shoves and little fights, until she tired herself out. And then, with her being sapless and docile, he could finally hold her. All her expectations that he would take advantage appeared, so far, unfounded.
Her bed was unslept in; he insisted they sleep in his every night, just innocently. She was so fearful of it at first, and not even necessarily of him.
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"I don't fall asleep right away, you know, I toss around a bit…"
"That's alright, doll."
"I tend to pull on the sheets in my sleep."
"I get too warm anyway."
"And I sometimes wake up randomly at night…"
"I wake up sometimes too."
"But… what if I need to go to the bathroom?"
"Turn on the light so you don't walk into something, sweetheart."
"W-what if I want a glass of water?"
"Oh, ask me and I'll get it for you."
"But what if I make noise and wake you up?"
"I'd forgive you for it, darling. Wouldn't you forgive me too?"
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To be so close to someone else, so constantly, was a whole new world for her. How do you negotiate space in one bed? How do you exist next to someone without being seen or heard or felt? How do you exist, at all, without bothering? And if you're told you're not bothering them, how do you believe it?
Those first few nights were almost impossible to go through. She couldn't fall asleep, thinking constantly about the person next to her. She couldn't even tell if Bucky was asleep: what if he was, and she moved somehow and woke him up? What if he wasn't, and he could hear her toss and turn? What was he thinking? Did he laugh at her, in his mind, and this was all one big joke? If he didn't and was actually willing to give her a chance, what were the limits of his patience? How long until the novelty of her wore off? What did he want in her stead? What was he expecting? How disappointed was he by now? She hadn't exactly made it easy so far, and didn't intend to — if he was capable of breaking, he would break on her. But as she caught sight, now and then, of her wedding ring or his, she felt her heart clench in fear at the thought.
He let her sleep in nightgowns, but he wore as little as possible. She could stand to look at him, eventually, without blushing too much, though she still sometimes did. She knew his body was big, but only outside of his clothes did her mind actually catch up to the reality that oh, that was a man. His hands were so much bigger, his wrists too, metal or not, and his shoulders and legs and feet and neck and everything, and his skin was so much rougher, dusted with hair in places but not distastefully so. Even his bones seemed different, where the hard points bent at his knees and ankles and elbow. And that chest, so broad and muscled and arched with a ribcage that looked thrice the size of hers… She really had no one to compare him to, she'd never been this close to someone else, this nude for this long, and for the first couple of days he seemed almost a different species to her.
Waking up to him made it easier. Even in her sleep, she crawled further away, waking up on the edge of the bed and almost off it. But then she turned around and found him sleeping, quiet and harmless, sometimes facing her, sometimes not, and gradually she realised he was just a person, like her. Other times, she woke up right against him: head on his arm or his shoulder, legs on top of his the way she'd sometimes hug the duvet, and though she instantly moved away his warmth lingered on her skin.
And sometimes, she woke up to his arm around her. Gripping her waist and holding her close, or with one leg between hers, and even with the pressure of his hard length against her back she couldn't begrudge it, because she felt so safe and wanted, and she wondered if this is what marriage was meant to be like.
They didn't make much use of most of the ship: not of the pool or the spa or the cinema, or any number of attractions, but they did do the tour of its cafes and restaurants and bars.
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"What've you got this time, doll?"
"Profiteroles. You want to try?"
"Your love of things round and creamy is kind of unexpected."
"Oh, you b…!"
"Hey, I don't mean it in a bad way!"
"I know how you meant it. Stop smiling!"
"Don't put them down now..."
"You want one or not?"
"Sure, let me try."
"Well?"
"Mmm… A bit too rich for my taste."
"I forgot, because you're sweet enough, right?"
"But not as sweet as you."
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Another thing they liked to do was walk along the decks, enjoying the sea air and the nice Mediterranean weather.
It was a special day when the ship approached the strait of Gibraltar. Everyone was out in a party atmosphere, waving their flags at passing ships, a live band playing, people dancing. Another cruise ship sailed by and they blew the horn at each other to say hello. And in the distance, almost intermixed with clouds, they could see the shores of Spain on one side, and Morocco on the other.
They stood on one of the higher decks together, with her in his arms and relaxed for once. The sky was bright blue and the sea was inky, almost black, but spotted with white foam, and looking up at Bucky she couldn't help but admire the shade of his eyes, not quite as blue as the sky or as milky as the sea foam, but unique to him and in-between them, cold and hard and light. And for the first time, she kissed him of her own initiative: just reaching up on her tip-toes and pecking him on the cheek.
His shock soon melted into the most insufferably smug and self-pleased look, and though he wouldn't kiss her lips in public — it didn't feel right, their intimacy was nobody else's business — he took her hand and kissed that instead.
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The ship stopped at the port of Gibraltar for a while — tourists getting on, tourists getting off — and it wasn't until they set sail again, into the Atlantic now, that Bucky started getting a bit more bold, a bit less forgiving with her.
It was night, they were back from dinner, and though they sometimes watched the television or read a book or two, there wasn't usually much to do.
Bucky heard the girl, his little wife, begin to undress from the other room. He went to the doorway and there she was, lit only by a lamp and with her blouse off, her fingers at the zipper of her skirt. She saw him standing there, leaning and smiling lazily, and froze — as usual.
"Don't stop on my account, doll."
"Do you have to look?" she muttered, turning away. There was no other place to go other than the bathroom, and that was through the bedroom behind him.
"You know I like to watch."
"And you know that I don't like it."
"Finish taking your clothes off."
She crossed her arms and sighed, and wondered just how awkward would it be to go to sleep half-dressed. Would it even be worth it? There was no escape at all, they'd established that when she couldn't turn herself in even over the telephone. But did he have to pressure her?
"Maybe another time…" she said, half-turned away.
She barely finished saying it when Bucky stormed toward her and grabbed her arm, turning her to face him to finish what she started and unzip her skirt. He went for her slip next and started pulling it up, but they'd never gone that far before.
"Stop it, stop!" she growled at him, keeping her hands over her chest.
"Don't make me tie you up, doll."
"You wouldn't dare."
That did it. He turned her around and finished pulling the garment off, and while she was busy covering her chest, he dragged them both to the bedroom. Then, from a drawer by his bedside, he took out the pair of handcuffs.
"Bucky, no!"
He clipped one hand before she knew it and pulled her up on the bed. It had a wooden frame, but he found a beam to wrap the cuffs around, then clasped her other hand. She whined and struggled and lifted her legs, but he grabbed those too and held her. He still wore most of his clothes, his shirt and trousers from the day, and she was now only in her stockings and garters, and some flimsy underwear, and though the room was lit with just one far off light, it was enough for him.
He stepped off the bed, pleased with his work, and started undressing himself. She looked at him in anger first, then turned her eyes away and tried to curl in on herself, but soon enough, Bucky was back next to her and gently stretched her legs again. She couldn't see his face, her eyes still shut, but she heard him moan and sigh as he just straddled her and looked his fill. Then, with a careful hand, she felt him undo the straps from her stockings. She opened her eyes, more out of curiosity, and watched him undo them front and back, then roll the stockings off one leg, followed by the other. His eyes went up to hers, hot and intent, and then his hands went to her waist.
"No…" she muttered, knowing what was next. The panties were on top of the garter belt.
"It's ok… I won't do anything you don't like."
"I already don't like this."
"I just want to look at you. You never let me. Why is that?"
"There d—"
"Don't answer."
She huffed but shut up anyway.
Bucky slipped his fingers in the waistband of her panties, a peachy silk pair this time, and as she tugged at her handcuffs he tugged those down her tense tight legs. Her face was hidden in her arm now, teeth tight with fear and anger that mounted as she heard him gasp — was it good? was it bad? it shouldn't be anything at all. He unclasped the garter belt too and threw that off, then all he did was stretch himself on top of her, and lightly kiss her throat.
"I'm sorry I had to tie you up for this, doll," Bucky whispered into her skin. "But you forced me."
"If you're so sorry, let me go."
"Don't tug too hard, you'll hurt yourself."
His attention went to her wrists next and he lifted himself to kiss them too, lingering on the skin of her right arm, going downward, leaving lingering kisses, stopping at her elbow then going lower with caresses from his hands down both her arms. Slowly, she opened her eyes to find his on her body — just her shoulders, for now. Her hair was undone and covered up some of her, so he brushed it aside and bent his head to kiss her left shoulder and the top of her chest, the base of her neck, then all along her jaw.
Her legs could bend again now that he was off them, knees coming up and twisting her lower body to one side, and Bucky let her do it while he paid attention to the top of her first. He reached her breasts in no hurry, and though he moaned at the sight and she trembled beneath him, he treated them no differently. He looked at the skin, caressed the sides with his hands, laid kisses in-between them, and just enjoyed her body.
His lips stopped somewhere beneath her left breast to chuckle and kiss a certain spot, whispering fondly: "You have a mole here, a little dark one, small as a pinprick."
His hands went across her skin, petting and stretching and turning her to the light, taking her in as if he met her for the first time — which, in a way, he did — and minute by agonizing minute he went lower, and lower. He skipped her waist and went for her raised knees, holding them and kissing their very top.
"Where'd you get this scar?" he asked, finger stroking a thin raised line.
"At the beach, when I was little… Kneeled on top of a seashell, didn't see it."
Bucky smiled and bent to kiss that in particular, eyes closing as he breathed her in. His arms framed her legs and the warmth from his naked body seeped into her, but the chill of the room took over the lower he went. His eyes were now on her lower legs, his hands petting up and down the skin, down to her ankles and then the arches of her feet, and he kissed his way along one and the other in turn.
Then he sat up on the bed and, with his eyes staring into hers, he lifted one leg to bring the knee up to his mouth, and kissed its soft inside. Bucky opened his mouth for one wet kiss and he sighed and moaned into her body, all the while keeping his eyes on hers, almost challenging her. And he continued by kissing higher, higher up the inside of her leg, to her thighs, kisses getting longer and wetter and interspersed with nibbles and sucklings and licks.
"Bucky…" she growled warningly.
He smirked at her and stopped inches away from her centre, and pulled away with one last inhale of her skin. But then he shifted lower on the bed, and held her legs firmly together, and pressed them flat against the bed beneath his strong arms as he lowered himself too, his head coming just above her waist.
She struggled anew but couldn't move much, and he seemed to stop as well but he was obscenely close... She arched her back to try to hide, but all it did was raise her breasts higher. Bucky's eyes crinkled with delight at the view. He brought one hand to gentle her, as if she were a frightened horse, and as his flesh hand traced the edge of her hip and down along her upper thigh, his thumb just barely brushed against her tuff of hair. It was so light she barely noticed, but he did.
Her muscles got tired of tensing, and after she laid back down with a sigh, Bucky raised himself once more, and pressed a kiss just on her stomach. His new wife moaned and bit her lip, but let him do it, again and again. At least he wasn't going any lower, but somehow it was something more, because he could taste her skin and smell her scent and the warmth of her body went up into his. And he could hear her gasps whenever he did something right, and the light sounds of her mouth when she parted in a chocked-off moan.
And as he laid himself down, lower and heavier, the top of his chest pressed against her soft mound, and he heard the whine that perked up deep in her throat and the sharp breath that followed, while his lips kissed more and louder and wetter all over her abdomen. Then, his hands moved up her torso and filled themselves with her breasts, while his mouth went up to kiss her chin and her cheek and the tip of her nose.
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From that day on, he insisted to watch as she dressed. Bucky would sit on the bed or in a chair and watch her put her clothes on in the morning, from the pretty lingerie to her skirts and blouses, or the occasional dress and even more occasional jewels. He liked the stretch of her arms when she put a necklace on, the bent of her throat when she wore earrings, and the fussing over a broach that only looked right in one specific place.
She looked pretty as a painting in the morning light, and about as shy, as she tried to hide in plain sight. But whenever she caught sight of him over her shoulder, he'd be nothing but smiling: sometimes proud, sometimes lustful, but always absorbed. He'd rest his chin inside a palm of metal and he looked as happy as a normal man, as fresh as any newlywed looking at his wife. That plush pair of lips would stretch in a boyish smile and his large grey eyes sparkled.
And soon after, he started watching her undress as well, at the end of the day — which happened sooner and sooner, as they had nothing to do on the ship other than eat at restaurants and sight-see and judge people together. At some point, he sneaked in his own undressing, and got her used to it that way. In a matter of days, they were walking the same space in half-dress half-skin, and save for a few awkward side-steps and fond glances, they were as at home with each other as they would be all alone.
She still avoided watching him in the morning, and couldn't help but turn away whenever she caught sight of more than she expected — a view of his back might be enough to get her feeling warm, or him walking out of the shower in a bath towel, or a stretch of those artful arms.
"Which one do you prefer?" he asked her one night as they went to bed.
She looked at him suspiciously. His eyes looked glassier, even in the dark, and the breath was caught high in his chest. "The metal one," she answered.
Bucky grinned and sat next to her in bed, laying so that the left arm would be the one to hold her. "I should probably be offended," he murmured into the back of her neck, "but this suits my plans just fine."
"Do I want to know?" she asked as the hard cold thing came around and settled on her stomach beneath the sheets.
"Probably not," he sighed. "Just can't resist you…"
She drew in a breath at the shock in temperature, but settled back quickly. She faced the windows that way, and though there wasn't much to see outside, it was still a pretty view: pitch black skies painted over with a few clouds, sprinkled here and there with stars.
She'd gotten used to Bucky pawing at her sometimes as they went to bed: a hand around her neck, just gently holding it; a pair of fingers running up and down the swell of her breast, a full hand coming down to cup it and receding in a second, leaving her peak budding after feeling the kiss of the centre of his palm; an arm tight around her waist, pulling her into his body for him to breathe in and kiss and rub against, and moan into, before he briskly stopped.
She didn't know what to do at first, she was too scared. But then she got used to it, and then it started to arouse her too, and she almost felt sorry for him. She knew what it was to be frustrated like that — he'd caused a good deal of it, and since he was with her all the time she felt ready to burst. She couldn't get much done in the shower either; her imagination wasn't enough, hadn't been for years. And as the days went on she felt herself throbbing, all the time, and only the mass of people and slow walks on the sea-sprayed decks could ease it. So she knew he was hurting too, could feel the same heart-beat twitch when she rubbed back against him.
Like she felt it now. Bucky warmed her back like a furnace while his metal arm chilled her, and at some point he slotted one leg between hers, holding her tighter, before the arm started moving down. She skittered a bit in his hold but went nowhere, and his arm, now slightly warmed, settled between her thighs. He held her close and shushed her gently, letting his arm find a cosy place and settle there.
"I'll just keep it where it is, doll, I promise," he whispered in her ear.
The fingers curled around her thigh, clasping it lightly, but the hard round knuckle of his thumb was so close to her centre, and though it stayed as still as an object — which it was, it's why she liked it — she began to move against it. Only one small tilt of the hips, just one, but then another, and another, and soon she started to rock herself against his hold — even if it didn't help, even if it didn't do the slightest bit to ease what hurt her. If Bucky felt anything, he didn't say. He just buried his face in the back of her neck as her head fell forward to curl into her chest.
"How is it now, sweetheart?" he asked after a while. Her head inched upward, almost turning to him, confused. "Is it all warmed up?"
She flexed her thighs but couldn't tell; everything was warm there now. So she took her hand and found his elbow, creeping down the surface of his arm, beneath the sheet, between her legs, to where the broad metallic hand was fixed, and felt around the finely forged knuckles, the smooth fingers: so precisely made, perfect, inanimate, dead. Then she turned her head to whisper back over her shoulder, and found Bucky waiting there, his lips right next to hers in the dark. Though she didn't want to part with the metal hand yet, she answered honestly a whispered "Yes."
He kept the arm there a little while longer while he leaned down to kiss her shoulder — and she was grateful for all these times, because she noticed them, when he'd kiss some part of her body rather than her lips; he knew it was too much for her. But eventually, he slipped the arm from around her and moved a bit away on the bed, leaving her feeling hollow and cold. She curled around herself a little but, through the quiet of the night, heard the rustling of his body in the sheets, his groans, and sighs, and then one very satisfied moan that sounded like her name.
Quiet as he tried to be after that, he couldn't stop the heavy breaths, the motions of the bed however light, and the slightest sound of lapping as, lower down, the metal fingers were coated in watery drippings. The girl turned her head to look at him and caught the side of his face, neck arched, lower lip bitten tight, brows pinched in a begging look.
Suddenly, his eyes opened to look loosely at the ceiling, but he caught sight of her. She looked at him, surprised and a bit amazed at what was happening, and without shame in his love-daze he turned to look back, head sinking in the pillow like the heaviest thing. His left arm moved, flexing almost, and his lips parted now and then as if almost ready to speak, but he never did. His eyes sometimes closed on their own, but always returned to her; they moved across her lips, her shoulder, the shape of her under the covers, then back to her own eyes.
And he looked so pleading one second, so happy the next, as he touched himself with the warmth of her body. She made his arm feel real again, almost as if living, and he used that bit of leftover life she spared him to bring a piece of her, if only the heat that used to be inside her, to where he missed her most at this point.
Bucky looked somewhat sorry to do it next to her, but seeing that she hadn't run away and turned in disgust, or hit him, or screamed at him, it gave him a little bit of hope. His legs tensed and spread beneath the sheets and his lips parted and his arm sped up just ever slightly as the warmth went away too fast, much too fast, and between two husky moans he begged her:
"Touch me."
"Wh-where?" she asked, not even thinking.
"Anywhere," he whispered.
She licked her lips and nervously turned around to face him, and after thinking it over perhaps too long decided to run her fingers down his neck. He closed his eyes, her face the last sight he drunk in before he finished with a deep, barely held down groan that she could feel rumbling through the tips of her fingers, then bitten off curses, and unintelligible whispers, then a deep shivering breath, and a smile.
The girl took her hand back as if bitten. Bucky opened his eyes and kept on smiling, pleased and sated, at her. Then he withdrew into himself a bit, suddenly abashed and timid, but at least slightly satisfied.
"Sorry about that…" he mumbled with a low, hoarse voice, and he even seemed honest about it. "I… I'll go wash up, before… I'll just…"
She looked at him mutely as he sighed and got up, and pulled his briefs back on, and went into the bathroom.
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104 notes · View notes
bitchybasementcat · 16 days ago
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Sadistic the series // one
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Chapter 1//- cry and
I'll play wolf
Summary:The last thing you expected for new year's eve was to be all the way in new mexico in a wheelchair being  pushed by the man that has been obsessed with you for the last six months it all started with an innocent conversation at park and now it ends up in the sound proof basement of his house.
Warnings ⚠️ : noncon ( look it up if you don't know what it means), smut, dub-con, torture, bullying, violence, abuse, stock home syndrome, kidnapping, dark bucky, minors 🔞 dni .
A/n: ignore the spelling errors 🚨
( read at your own risk:)
The rain was pouring and the atmosphere was foggy from beyond your view from the thick glass window that was the only thing besides your shared 'home' with bucky protecting you from the weather current conditions
nose pressed against it and eyes scanning the outside world as intrusive thoughts started to take part in your head, but that was the least of your worries.
Suddenly the wooden door's rusty yellow knob started shifting towards the left, the door itself was not far from your location as your stomach started to feel bad and your face was losing its colored cheeks to say you were scared for the upcoming events was an understatement.
When the door's knob gears fully began to cooperate with the man's key that's when the fear kicked, your heart was so loud you were pretty sure even he could hear from the other side of the door, and before you could brace yourself with the possible scenarios you made in your head on what he might do to you it was to late, the door was opened followed by a breeze of the outsides cold wind and chuckling all while rain could be heard pouring in the background.
His blue eyes pierced through yours and the down to the chains that withheld your legs to a black wheelchair he got a hold to from steve, "
well I hope your mother feels better soon and you don't need to pay me back anything I insist".
The blonde yelled back to his best friend before he hopped his way back into his vehicle due to an emergency meeting at Stark Industries, just like that he gave unknowingly just gave a monster more power than he could ever imagine over you and your helpless state.
The memory stopped playing when heard the door you were once confident in being your only chance of escaping shut and locked as footsteps approached the back of the wheelchair.
He was breathing heavily and voice raspy his shirt soaking wet from the rain fingers smooth trailing around your bare and scarred back, "you realize this could have gone a lot different if never found out you worked for hydra and spotted you sitting on a bench in that park that day teasing me with your short black skirt and don't get me started on that half undone blouse and to top it off those irresistible red lips".
" fuck you freak".
You didn't mean for the words the slip out of your mouth you were hot-headed growing up and even still have a silver tongue that you swore had a mind of its own at times but before you could apologize you were hit hard on your cheek with a hard slap that left his handprint on you.
He turned your wheelchair around face him as you waited for your sobbing to stop, " watch your mouth or you might not make it to see tonight".
You shook your head violently he seemed to be satisfied with your response when he left you there in a daze and drowning in emotions but he could care less, he made his way over to the small kitchen to prepare dinner as the sound of his boots against the poorly made floor filled your ears as you sat hopelessly there.
After dinner was over silence began to fill the air until bucky broke it, " you can sleep on the floor tonight on one condition".
The words fell from his pink plumped lips as he was waiting for your reaction
"Yes, I'll do anything to get out of this wheelchair".
He smiled at your desperation and tilted his head in amusement, " try anything and the police won't be able to identify your body with dental records got it "?
You smiled in an attempt to gain his trust which surprisingly work but Bucky was smart and you to knew to keep an eye on ,you he grabbed the silver key from his pocket as he went to work on your to restraints, but what he didn't know was that you had a special surprise waiting for him underneath your thigh as he stepped back after finishing his work you moved the syringe to the you're back as his fingers found their way to your hair tangling it.
" Such a pretty face is gonna go to waste soon such a shame better use you while I can".
He spoke as his tongue rolled on the inside walls of his cheek.
As you took your chance you grabbed his arm but not without a fight as glass surrounded the both of youyou stabbed his arm with
the syringe had a lethal dose of medication in it the only reason you were able to get it was due to his laziness at hiding things from you, you took your only chance you're being realistic he was two times your size and this was your only chance of escaping as you held him down with determination he kicked at you as the needle pressed into his vein and entered his bloodstream it was soon taking effect over him as his vision became blurry his movements became slower and soon he was laying on the ground with his mouth open and head to the side of the floor, without checking to make sure he was knocked out for good only assuming was a mistake you'd soon learn never do again.
He quickly regain consciousness grabbed both of your legs when you attempted to run from him how silly of you to think you could outrun your kidnapper, you bit your tongue while your body was still processing the pain from the impact of falling on the hard ground head first while still being dragged into his bedroom down the hall which was starting to come within your sight range.
"you're gonna regret that dolly, I try to be nice and I give you a home to share with me and for what, clearly I'm gonna have to teach you a thing or two about running away dolly ".
His words were sharper than the knife as you thought you would die right then and there but why were you wrong.
"Please".
Screaming while tears streamed like a river down your face you were trying to plead with the man but in return, his grip only got tighter on you as you felt his hot breath on your neck while whispering,
" you can scream all you want in these soundproof walls nobody will hear you but remember you did this to yourself doll".
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bvccy · 16 days ago
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Nothing to Despair | 17. Sweet enemy
PAIRING: Soft!Dark!Bucky Barnes x Reader
SYNOPSIS: Bucky and a girl he never met before have to go undercover as married on a mission to Europe. He feels alienated in the modern world, while she goes through life alone and abandoned. Maybe they can find a new home in each other, but she’s not easily convinced.
CHAPTER NOTES: The beginning of the smut, and all noncon. Soft!Bucky but also sneakily dark!Bucky, just general seduction, stripping, teasing, deep slow erotic kisses, lingerie kink, forced cuddles, sweet dirty talk, and a hint of jealousy. Also it is confirmed that not only Bucky but also Winter Soldier is in love with the reader <3
WORD COUNT: 3.2k
⸻ [MASTERLIST] [AO3] [TAGLIST]
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And since my malady Healed Will never be Without you, sweet enemy, Who takes Delight in my torment With clasped hands I beseech Your heart, that forgets me, That it mercifully kill me For too long have I languished. — Guillaume de Machaut, Sweet, lovely lady
The pair navigated their first morning awkwardly. They got ready just for the sake of breakfast, and went out into the ship. They looked a bit out of place in their business clothes while most everyone else was in shorts and slippers, but they soon found consolation in the bitter-sweet act of judging everyone else together. Bucky had to smile at the arched brows and scathing looks his little wife threw to the other passengers, recognising some of the same judgmental stares he gave back in Manhattan. She dragged them out for a walk onto the deck after breakfast, enjoying the sea air and shining sun, the stretch of endless sea. But he wouldn't let that go on for long…
"Let's go back to our room, sweetheart," he whispered in her hair.
"Why?" she blushed, already knowing the answer. "There's nothing to do there."
"We can think of something."
She took a bit of coaxing, but relented.
And back in the room, she slowly took her hair down, and her shoes, and fiddled with things in the bathroom while he sat on the bed and looked at her. The slouch in her shoulders told him she knew she was being watched, and was trying to hide. But she had nowhere to go anymore.
"Doll, why don't you come here?" he called to her.
"I was thinking to take a shower," she said, staring at the sink.
"You had one this morning."
"I can have another one."
He sighed and got back up, walking to the bathroom before she could close the door. "Come out of there, darling. Come out here to me," he gently spoke, but held her wrist firmly and tugged.
He walked, backwards, with her to the bed until he felt it hit his knees, and sat down. She still had all her clothes on, and so did he. Grabbing her hips, he parted his legs and pulled her to him, slotting her right in front of him as close as she could come. She finally stopped staring at the ground now that he was in her way, and instead closed her eyes and tensed.
Bucky looked up at her without searching for anything, just taking in the sight. Did she not like being looked at? He remembered experiencing a bit of that too, for a while. On their own, his hands started massaging her hips, caressing up and down in a tease of undressing, and with each sharp move her breath hitched, but he didn't do anything else. He wanted to show her that she could be teased, and still be safe.
"Did you sleep well last night, sweetheart?" he whispered toward her waist. She just hummed and nodded. "Then why'd you leave? Something woke you up?"
"Was just nervous, cause… you know."
"You have trouble sleeping, doll?"
When she wouldn't answer, Bucky opened his eyes and looked up to find her staring down, standing stiff and imperial and, he delighted to notice, knowing. That answered it for him — she'd figured out what game he was playing.
"Let's give it another go, then," he smirked.
"I don't want to go to sleep."
"So stay awake."
He raised himself and slotted his body right against hers, his hands stiffer on her waist as she tried to move away, and now she was the one looking up at him.
"Take this off, honey," he whispered onto her lips as one hand went up to undo her shirt buttons.
"No, why?" she muttered as she moved in vain against him.
"I want to see you…"
"I don't want to be seen."
"No?" he smirked, then boyishly shrugged, "Ok." And with one hand, metal and hard, against her flank, he started undoing his own shirt before her frightened eyes — and to think, for a second she hoped she'd escaped. "You can look at me, then," Bucky added, staring hotly in her eyes as he unbuttoned down and down, but after a few seconds of surprise she closed her eyes and pulled away.
He let her go, he had to, to undo the rest and take the whole thing off. She moved aimlessly to the other side of the room, settling at the large round window that showed the sea, and hugged herself while she listened to him shrugging his clothes off.
Bucky peeled and pulled off all but his briefs, his eyes not leaving her. On the edges of excitement milled about his memories of the ugly glares, the hate-filled, distrustful stares of strangers with thoughts unknown but… suspected by him, and as he walked with slow small steps toward his frightened girl he wonder what, if anything, might have eased him into being looked at.
He made no effort to be silent as he approached her, stepping loudly enough for her to know, in advance, when he was right behind her, and at first he touched her just the gentlest way on her arm, his hand going up and down against her shirt. His touch got gradually harder, and suddenly he stepped the last step and was right behind, the other arm coming around to hold her waist and press her against him. She finally unclasped those little hands from around her elbows and grabbed blindly at his arms, then gasped as he pressed his length to the back of her skirt.
"Do you know how much I want you?" he murmured in her ear. "Do you have any idea…"
"Bucky…"
"How much pain you put me through?" he continued, relieving a bit of it by rubbing up and down and almost between her thighs. Her legs bent and scrambled uselessly, as if she could crawl away from him, but the window was shut and the sea was beyond it.
"Don't do it," she whined, one hand on his metal arm, the other on the glass. If she was trying to pry him off her, it wasn't a good attempt.
"You know how much of it I'm willing to put up with, for you?" Bucky spoke into her hair, then breathed her in and moaned. He stopped the canting of his hips and settled to feeling her squirming back against his chest.
"You don't have to…" she pleaded. "Stop."
"You think I just want to fuck you, sweetheart?" he whispered against her neck and closed it with a chain of kisses. "Think I couldn't have done it by now?"
She brought both hands against his arms, claws slowly sinking in, wedding ring clinking against his metal wrist, as she muttered muted pleas so scared and sweetly. He held her tighter the more she struggled and kissed his way up to her cheek, pure and gentle with the slightest daint of sound like a falling dew-drop to punctuate wetly each one, and then with her skin between his teeth, he growled against her jaw:
"That's not even a fraction of what I want to do to you."
His hands moved lower to grip her by the hips again, and hold her still to thrust once, twice, but that was as much as he could take and stopped, his hot breath exhaled into her hair.
"Take your clothes off," he groaned.
"No."
One hand caressed its way up her throat to grab her jaw and tilt her head upward, and back. She looked for one shocked moment into his eyes before she aimed them forward again, out to the sea, as Bucky leaned in to press a kiss to her mouth. He pecked her lips with kisses while his hand came down to grab her still, thumb resting on her throat then moving slowly up and down, up and down the arched centre of that column. He kissed and nipped at her lips without making any attempt to open her, while the pad of his thumb kept gentling her throat the way he wanted to tease the other, lower parts of her. When Bucky felt her start to shiver, he raised his mouth from her and hummed at the lingering taste.
"Strip for me," he husked. She shook her head. "Please, sweetheart, let me see my little wife. Let me see what's mine to love on," Bucky pleaded through a growl, but he felt her deny him and tense even more. "Then look at me."
She paused and even seemed to think, but gave a stubborn "No."
"Doll, turn around. Look at me," he asked, and asked also with his hands twisting her until her head barely came around.
But at the sight of just his naked chest and shoulder, she bloomed into a blush, and gasped and turned right back around with a sharp inhale. She'd seen his chest before, but not this much of it. Bucky hadn't met a girl so bashful in long decades, and couldn't help but laugh a little in delight. If just her eyes were this sensitive, he wondered crazily if he could bring her over the edge by simply showing too much skin at once.
"What's the matter, darling?" he grinned. "Never seen a fella before?"
"I have," she mumbled in her shoulder, half-turned away. "At the beach, and… This is just different." This was real.
"Oh yeah?" Bucky smirked. "The beach?" Her hesitation told him something, and her silence even more. "You sure that's all? You haven't looked at naughty pictures?" And more. "You have, haven't you."
"They weren't 'naughty'," she rasped, insulted.
He cradled her jaw and hissed through teeth that were gritted in a wide smile, "You're tellin' me my pretty little wife looked at other naked men?"
"Oh like you haven't looked at women," she shot back finally with a look, one hot and frowny stare.
"Jealous?" Bucky smirked.
"I hate you."
"Really?" he tutted, tilting his head. "You'd kill me if you could, wouldn't you?" She softened a bit and searched his face, but stayed quiet. "How would you do it?"
She had to think for just one second. "I'd stab you through both eyes."
Bucky's grin grew ever brighter. The choice wasn't lost on him; an ornamental killing. And another thing delighted in him, aside from seeing this little but undoubtable edge of her affection through her possessiveness of him — the stone-cold assassin still inside him laughed; he liked her.
As he chuckled down at her, the girl dipped and slipped beneath his arms, trying to get away, but at the last second he caught her wrist. He let her walk a bit further in the room and let himself be pulled by her, though she tugged and tried to shake him off, all the while unable to see too much of him at once. His body filled her view whenever she looked up, big and broad and a bit rough but so elegantly shaped. She felt the air leave her lungs whenever she so much as sighted one full half of chest or a generously muscled bicep, that sculpted stomach leading down, a rough strong thigh or artful knee. Her face had never felt so hot in all her life — it made her blush like mad just to see a man there, in naked strong and sculpted flesh, who wanted her.
"Let me go," she hissed.
"Let me see you."
Bucky only let her move so far before he tugged her back toward him, almost tripping her on the way into his arms. Through her squirming, he held her close and her silky white shirt stuck to his perspiring torso. He smiled down lazily at her as he felt his length rubbing against her stomach, unintended but madly distractive.
"Stop stop stop I've changed my mind let me go I've changed my mind…" she rambled quietly into his chest. "I'll go to prison, I can't do this, let me go…"
He squeezed her tighter in his arms and looked down softly at her, his breath fanning against her face.
"You can do this, sweetheart."
"I can't," she said, claws sinking into his thick forearm again. "I'd rather… I'd rather…"
But they were interrupted by the sudden ringing of the phone. It was Bucky's, on the table, and with one last look at the girl he stepped back with her in tow as he went to answer it. He held her beside him with the metal arm while he checked the caller with the other, and answered. It was Steve.
"Hey there, Buck! Hope I'm not interrupting anything."
"You almost did, punk."
"Oh" came Steve's bright laughter, "sorry! I'll keep this short then. Just wanted to say congratulations!"
"Thanks, Stevie," he smiled.
"We're all real happy for you. Is the Mrs. there? Can you put her on?"
"Sure thing. She… actually wanted to speak to you."
The girl took the phone while Bucky looked on, smirking.
"H-hi?"
"Hello, Mrs. Barnes! Congratulations!"
"Oh… ah, thanks."
"We're so happy for you! Surprised… I mean, that's one mission thoroughly executed."
"Y-yes, sir."
"But very happy!"
"T-thank you," she muttered, looking up to Bucky's insufferably smug face. "Was a s-surprise for me too."
As she spoke with Steve, and seemed to have absolutely no intention of turning herself in, Bucky used the opportunity to unpluck the buttons of her shirt while he held her trapped. She struggled against him, but had nowhere to go.
"Bucky's the best guy you could hope for. Once he sets his heart on someone, there's no one more dependable, more dedicated, more loyal… I'm really happy for you, both of you."
"Yeah, he's… he's quite something."
He left the shirt around her shoulders, undone, then moved his hands around her back to unclasp the skirt.
"Tony's here too, he wants to say a few words. But again, congratulations!"
"Thank you, Captain Rogers…"
"There's my employee of the year!"
"Hello, Mr. Stark."
"My congratulations as well! How's the cruise?"
"Oh, it's great sir, thank you."
The skirt slipped down her thighs and to the floor, and her squirming did nothing to stop it. Grabbing her by the waist, Bucky lifted her for a second to move her out of the puddle of clothes.
"I was going to give you one monumental bonus when you got back, but I guess you've already had it."
"Ah… haha."
"Kidding, kidding."
She was turned around now, Bucky's arms around her half-naked figure as he moved them slowly together.
"Teasing aside, really, congrats. We're very happy for the both of you."
"Thank you so much, sir. I… I don't know what to say."
"You kids enjoy your honeymoon, got it?"
"Sure will…"
"Hey," came Steve's smiling voice, "can you put Bucky back on?"
She wordlessly lifted the phone behind her shoulder for Bucky to grab.
"Yeah?"
He talked a bit more with Steve while his other hand moved mindlessly around her body, and he walked them both forward until he trapped her against a chest of drawers.
"Ok, Stevie… Yeah… Ok, see you soon. You too. Thanks. Bye." He clicked the phone off and set it down on the cabinet. "You were saying?"
She gripped onto the smooth wooden surface and couldn't make a sound. All her bravado about turning herself in, vanished. Bucky turned her around to face him and finished tugging at her shirt, pulling it completely off her shoulders. She was left now in a black cotton slip and the stockings underneath, while his expanse of muscle and warm damp skin filled her view. He admired her from the vantage point of his towering height, crowding her in while his hands crept down and momentarily let her go to press his palms flat against her thighs. And as he moved them upward, the edge of her slip moved too, revealing more and more until he could see the tops of her thigh-highs clasped by the suspenders.
"Oh kitten… doll-face… sweetheart…" he moaned. The sheer black of the stockings made the skin of her legs shine with an inner glow, and where they ended in a hard black line at the top of her thighs, they framed her legs so nicely, and those silky little belts fell in straight lines right down the centre… He almost felt like his old self again, he almost felt back home. "Well, remind me to thank Nat."
"Why?" she frowned.
Bucky tore his gaze away to look into her eyes. "You didn't get these for the mission?"
"No… The lingerie is mine," she said, then regretted it a heartbeat later.
He stared down at her for the second it took the blood to come back to his head. "You wear this stuff for yourself? You wear it to work?" Bucky had figured out women didn't dress like this anymore, not in those short skirts and tight jeans, so to hear it from her, to see it on her, was…
"I know it's mostly… used for special occasions nowadays, but I like wearing it. Makes me feel nice," she rambled, feeling the need to justify it. Nobody really knew what she wore underneath when she was just in the office or out shopping; nobody else needed to know. But it gave her something to feel good about when she got home and saw her shape made pretty in the frame of lingerie. She had several pairs, in pink and white and a few others, but the black ones were her finest.
His fingers gripped her tighter by the thighs, as if he could fall down any moment.
"No kiddin'…" Bucky laughed. "Yeah, makes me feel something too."
She bit her lip and shifted in his grasp, but he gave her no escape. His strong legs framed her, breath fanning against her face and chest, and his hands hot and cold moved her slip up slowly as he teased himself with the sight of her hips, skin stretching point to feminine point, her waist, framed by the garter belt, and that mound between her lovely thighs, clasped in black lace too. He got closer and closer until he could bury his face in her neck, hands petting up and down her legs and waist and torso without any aim, while she just held onto the furniture, arms and back tense and her legs just barely holding her up.
"Let's go to bed, sweetheart," Bucky whispered in her ear. He was close enough to hear her gasp. "No, not like that… Not yet. We'll just be in bed."
He had to pull her off her mooring and lead her to his bed, but as he promised, he laid down with her just underneath the covers, while she still wore her lingerie and he barely anything, but he only held her against his chest as they rested. Her knees cupped his, his arm came around her, his lips rested against the nape of her neck after he lifted her hair up on the pillow, and gradually she came to trust that that was really all they were going to do. Bucky didn't last more than fifteen minutes before he went to the bathroom to 'freshen up'. He had to freshen up a few more times, in fact, moans echoing out faintly, before they got dressed again and went for an early dinner.
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