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#dark!bucky x reader
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 · 23 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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underdevelopedangst · a day ago
Text
𝘚𝘛𝘜𝘊𝘒𝘠
𝙎𝙚𝙧𝙞𝙚𝙨
steve’s and bucky’s girl @dadplease
bunny @buckysbunny
dear diary @mariessecretfantasies
angel on fire
master of his own fate @gotnofucks
your, mine, and ours @darkficsyouneveraskedfor
their angel @buckysbrattybug
pet @skyeisawizard
𝙊𝙣𝙚-𝙎𝙝𝙤𝙩𝙨
welcome home, kitten @buckysbunny
go ahead and cry, little girl @nsfwsebbie
little minx @saiyanprincessswanie
not red riding hood @angrythingstarlight
don’t fence me in @nsfwsebbie
a compresive nature @mariessecretfantasies
going against nature @gotnofucks
their little one @leosmeditations
a rare condition @dadplease
teacher’s pet @nastybuckybarnes
little girl @orphiclittleone 
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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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gotnofucks · a day ago
Can I have a Biker/Mob Bucky with a forced marriage trope? 💦💦 (Breeding kink please?)
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Title: Promised to Him
Pairing: Biker!Bucky x Reader
Summary: You return back to your town after years, hoping to start anew. But faces of the past reappear, set to fulfill promises you had made years ago.
Words: 3.5k
Warnings: Non-con, forced marriage, breeding kink, kidnapping, language, 18+ ONLY
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It was strange how this town never seemed to have aged. Everything was almost exactly how you remembered it to be. Even the smell of the place seemed the same: hyacinths that grew in almost every house, stale coffee, and motor oil. Being back here proved to be more difficult than you thought, for everyone was keen to catch the look of the girl who ran away.
Nobody ever really left this town, and if they did, they had the good sense to be gone forever. You held more than mere curiosity; you held their smug resentment too. They had told you when you’d left for university years ago that you will regret leaving, but you never knew they’d make you regret coming back too.
“They don’t sell them carrots at the city, do they?” The cashier taunted you, putting your groceries in a bag. You held in your retort, reading her name tag and recognizing her as one of the girls you went to school with.
“How much?” You asked, not rising to the bait.
“I would charge you extra for being you, but alas, it’s all paid for. Grab ‘em and take ‘em and leave.” She said, rolling her eyes at you. You stood still in surprise, your wallet open in your hands.
“Excuse me?” You said, bringing her attention back to you from the other customer she had started on. “Paid for? How? By whom?”
The look you got told you exactly where she thought you could stick your questions in. That was one thing you missed about the city. Everyone was too busy in their lives to care about someone else. People there were aloof, often even cold, but that suited you just fine.
“Look, I haven’t got time for you. You’re blocking the queue.”
You struggled for a moment, determined to hold your ground when the person behind you huffed in irritation. Taking your stuff, you bowed your head down and exited the store, ignoring the murmuring that followed you. Oh god, how you wished to return to the city where all that was expected of you was to pay rent and do your job? You had never expected to be laid off so suddenly, nor find yourself alone and helpless enough to let your mother convince you to return home.
It had been years, but your legs remembered the way home easily. You’d played in these alleys, stolen sweet kisses behind the trees in your youth. They remembered you just the same, the birds chirping out their hello to you, the only ones to do so sweetly as you passed.
You were almost to your home when the rumble of bikes reached you. You sidestepped, walking along the edge of the road to allow them to pass, however, they slowed near you and purred alongside. Raising your head to look at them, you caught your breath. Well, you suppose it was time for him to show up anyway. You’d been expecting him since the day you came back.
“Bucky”, You whispered, watching him dismount his bike and walk over to you. Steve and Sam smiled at you from their own bikes, though they didn’t climb down. They all seemed to have grown buffer, stronger than before and you spied some new tattoos inking under the collar of their shirts.
Bucky stopped directly before you, his long hair tied back into a small pony. His blue eyes were fixed on you, the curve on his lips widening as you began squirming under his gaze. Tilting his head to the side, he asked, “Doing okay sweetheart?”
His voice had deepened, a scar near his eyebrow dimpling as he regarded you. You gulped uneasily, the last day you’d seen him flashing behind your eyelids, that confrontation still ringing in your ears. It was dim hope that he’d have forgotten about that, but by the steely look in his eyes as well as the danger he exuded, you knew that to be false. Bucky Barnes was not one for forgiving, and never for forgetting.
“Hi.” You softly greeted him and his friends, managing a forced smile. Sam waved at you cheekily and your eyes flitted between the three of them nervously, your fingers playing with the strap of your grocery bag.
“Been a long time.” Bucky said, coming closer. Almost unconsciously you stepped back to maintain some distance, watching his smirk widen as he pushed you back against the wall, cornering you in the isolated alley. “Come on sweetheart, you don’t need to look so scared. The last time I saw you, you were spitting fire.”
You touched the cold wall behind your back as if asking it to give away a little. This was not how you’d expected to meet him again. You thought he’d show up at your house, ready to continue the argument that had cemented your decision of leaving this town, but meeting him in a dark alley was not something you wanted. You had no control here, nothing to defend yourself against him.
“I have to get home soon.” You pathetically said, looking away from him. “We can talk later.”
Bucky chuckled, placing a hand on the wall beside your face as he bent to bring his face level to your own. “Of course sweetheart. About time you came home, hm?” Tucking a stray hair behind your face, his eyes still hard, he smiled before taking your hand and pulling you with him. You protested, digging your heels into the ground as Steve and Sam watched in silence.
“Bucky, stop!” You said, hitting his back with your fists until he jerked around to roughly pull you to himself, your grocery falling away from you and spilling on the ground. “Aah! What are you doing?”
Anger that had not rushed in your veins in years rose to the surface again, your eyes blazing at him in fierce rage. Years ago, he had done something similar and it had sent you skipping town in the dead of night, and looking at him now you knew it was the right decision. Just like this town that never stopped living in the past, Bucky refused to move forward and change.
“What am I doing?” He asked, fingers digging painfully in your arms. “I am doing what I should have done then. What did you expect baby, that you’ll come back here and we’ll pretend nothing ever happened?”
You slapped your hands on his chest to push him away, barely managing to put an inch between you. Two people walked past you, looking at the scene before quickening their steps and going away. You didn’t even try calling for help. Nobody would interfere with Bucky and his people, not if they knew what was good for them.
“What happened between us was in the past Bucky.” You snapped, trying to keep angry tears at bay. “Don’t make the same mistakes you made then. Let me go!”
Incensed by your words, he squeezed you harder until you cried out in pain, whimpering in his hold. This was only the second time he had put his hands on you, a reminder of the strength he packed and how it was barely kept at bay.
“Buck,” Steve called suddenly, “come on man, you’re hurting her. Let up, you know we don’t hurt our own.”
Almost instantly his hold slackened, thumb running gently over the place where you’re sure you’ll bruise tomorrow. His eyes went soft, almost apologetic as he stroked your cheek. “You’ve always had a way of getting under my skin.” He said, linking your fingers together. “Come on now, I am taking you home. You’re not getting away from me again.”
As he tried to take you away, you shook your head, a traitorous tear sliding down your face. He refused to listen to anything you said, Sam and Steve ignoring your pleas to them as their bikes rumbled to life. You looked back, a hand reaching out for your fallen groceries as if they could anchor you and prevent your taking.
“Leave them. I paid for them after all so I can leave them to rot.” Bucky snapped, forcing you onto his bike. Cupping your jaw, he stared into your eyes until he knew all your attention was on him. “Hold on. You can try to run away, but you’ll only break bones this time. This time, you won’t break my heart.”
He climbed in front on you, taking your hands and pulling them around his waist, squeezing them in warning. Then in a roar of engine, you were flying with him, the wind whipping against your tear-stained face as you drove past your house and back to the past.
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Back to square one, that’s where you were at. The boys hadn’t renovated their house, but it still looked huge and intimidating. Walking in, you were flooded with the memories of your teenage years spent playing with them, your first kiss with Bucky in the kitchen, the first night you spent in his bed, the very last night you spent here and in this town. This used to be your heaven, today, it was your hell.
“Have someone bring her stuff round here.” Bucky said, his fingers wrapped around your wrist though you’d stopped struggling a while ago.
“Nat and Clint are already on it.” Sam said, chucking his shoes off and flopping dramatically on the couch.
You bit your lip at the news, scared for your mother. You’d known Nat and Clint for years, but you doubted they’d taken your leaving any better than the other members of the gang. Bucky turned to look at you and sighed, cupping your chin to press a kiss on your forehead.
“They’ll behave themselves.” He promised. “You’re my girl, your family is my family. Nobody’s gonna harm them.”
Even now with the years long gone by, he could read you like an open book. Your love may have faded, and his may have soured, but the remains of it that lingered between you were potent and strong. How had things gone so wrong? How can the man you would have once taken a bullet for scared you enough that you just left?
“Buck,” You softly said, trying to appeal to the softer side of him. “It’s not too late, please let me leave. We can talk over this.”
He had rarely denied you anything, but this man was not the man you’d known before. Bucky exchanged an amused glance with his friends before looking at you like you were the dumbest, cutest thing ever.
“Sweetie, don’t worry your head. We’ll have a lifetime to talk after the ceremony, hm? Come on, you need rest.”
Bucky started you up the stairs and you screeched, shouting curses at Steve and Sam who were scrolling down their phones. If by any fluke they let you in the kitchen, you vowed to poison the lot of them.
“What ceremony?” You asked, panting as you tried to keep up with Bucky’s stride. “Bucky! What ceremony?”
He didn’t answer until you reached his room. You sucked in a breath as you entered. This was the room you had slept your last night in town, well, not really slept. You’d crept away from his bed and rushed home to pack and disappear, leaving a scrawled note for your mother and Bucky that you’re leaving early for your studies and would not be coming back.
Bucky watched you take in the room, standing behind you with his arms around your waist. He’d taken your virginity in this bed, promised a lifetime of happiness.
“Not much has changed, has it?” He asked, placing a scratchy kiss on your neck. “You can redecorate if you want.”
You gulped as you found a picture of yourself beside his bed, one taken on your 19thbirthday, merely days before you skipped town. You both looked so happy that day. Bucky had finished university while you were only considering joining one. He hadn’t been happy about you looking for ones in the city, but that day he had promised you no arguments and fights. It was such a beautiful day with all your friends and family wishing you the very best.
“I remember that day.” Bucky said, following your gaze. “I made you cum so many times that night that I had to carry your downstairs in the morning. You were always so responsive to my touch.”
As he talked, his hands moved, roving over your frame. You shivered when he grazed your sides and under your breasts, pushing his hardness firmly into you. Whimpering, you placed a hand on his wrist to stop him and he stilled before grabbing you by your shoulder and turning you to face him.
“Bucky, please don’t.” You begged, tears prickling your eyes. “Why are you doing this?”
He blinked at you before smiling tenderly, tucking a strand of hair behind your year. Gently leading you backwards, he pushed until you were at the edge of the bed. With a shove, you bounced on the mattress and crawled up on your elbows, watching in fear as Bucky deftly undid the buttons on his shirt, his eyes boring into yours.
“Why am I doing this?” He asked, titling his head. His shirt fluttered to the ground, leaving him bare from waist up and you couldn’t help but stare at your name tattooed right over his heart. “I am doing this because you promised yourself to me.”
Pants roughly pushed down, he quickly came forward to pull you back by your ankle as you tried to escape. Climbing over you with only his boxers on, he held you down with one strong thigh thrown over yours, the blue in his eyes darkening.
“You remember those days?” He asked, “We were only teenagers when you promised you’d marry me. You were spoken for, always. We were always meant to be!”
His lips descended over yours, claiming them after years with a passion that hit you like a punch in the gut. You sobbed into the kiss, your nails raking across his back as you wiggled under his body.
“We were kids!” You protested, screeching when Bucky tore through your clothes to bare you to his hungry gaze. “It didn’t mean anything!”
“It meant the world to me!” Bucky harshly said, breath warm on your face. His rough fingers traced your cheek before holding your jaw in place, pressing a kiss on your pouted lips. “You meant the world to me. You still do.”
Cold air met your sweaty skin as he forced you out of your tattered clothes, licking and biting every patch of skin he exposed. You cried out, pulling on his hair to deter him.
“Bucky, this isn’t you. You wouldn’t hurt me like this.” You gently said, softening your touch until his eyes were on you. “We promised each other a lot of things. You promised never to hurt me.”
He bunched the cloth of your panty and ran his thumb over your covered slit, taking in your gasps with delight. Leaning down, his nose nuzzled into your hair and he sniffed you, holding you hostage.
“That’s right.” He agreed, pressing a kiss to your temple as he kept rubbing you. “Just like you promised never to leave me. And then you did.”
Your panty was torn away with one powerful tug, it’s elastic chaffing your skin and making you cry out. Bucky’s eyes feasted on your glistening sex, his tongue running across his bottom lip in wonderment at your moist center. Carefully collecting your dewy essence on his thumb, he brought it to his mouth and sucked it, closing his eyes as he tasted you again after what felt like ages.
“Nothing intoxicates me more than your taste.” He said, holding your hands tight. Lowering his boxers, he presented you his thick cock, the very sight of which had you tremble. What is this large before? “I would have loved to taste you again, to have you come in my mouth again and again and then take you until the sun preyed upon our tryst with voyeuristic eyes. But I have waited far too long for you. Today is the day I will bind you to myself. Forever.”
Every plea falling from your lips meant nothing to him and he positioned himself over your weeping slit, his hardness lubed in your juices. Your wrists were pinned beside your head, his blue eyes churning like the evening sky and gleaming with the light of burning stars. In one push of his hips, he sheathed himself inside your warmth, your gasp matched only by his groan that reverberated through the room.
“Oh god!” You exclaimed, struggling to take him in. It had been far too long since you’d laid with a man, especially one as large at Bucky. He stretched you to accommodate him, rolling his pelvis until you keened pathetically.
“Oh yes, I am your god. And by sundown tomorrow, I’ll be your husband.”
He maintained a steady rhythm, pumping in and out of you in long strokes that had you whimpering. It felt too good, too sensual. Bucky burned with the need to possess you, but it was impossible to separate his love away from his obsession. You felt his light and his darkness in equal amounts, the sparks of his fire reaching you and forcing you to burn too.
“Bucky – I, please.” You begged, incoherent with pleasure. The last night you were under him flashed behind your eyes, a major wave of déjà vu rolling down your spine. A heated promise of matrimony was made, followed by an equally powerful night in the sheets where he forced you to shout to the heavens that you’d take his ring and name. The very next day, you were gone. But today, he held on tight. There won’t be any escaping now.
“Look at me.” He hissed, toying with your clit, bruising your shoulders and neck with his passionate kisses. “Look at me and fall apart. Let me see your walls break down. I am claiming you again baby, and there won’t be no leaving this time.”
You came like a thunderstorm ravaged your insides, flooding your channel with heat that bubbled around his length. His breath hitched, eyes squeezed tight as you clamped around him. It took a while for you to realize you were crying, the salt of your tears on Bucky’s lips as he kissed them away, eyes too tender for the way he was taking you against your will.
A monster had no right to be this beautiful, nor so full of love.
Biting your lips, you shook you head as the familiar tingling in your abdomen began anew. Bucky tensed, his thrusts choppier and jerkier as he neared his edge too.
“Yes baby, one more time.” He said, “Come on, let me love you again. Open your heart to me.”
The tidal wave of emotions that you couldn’t keep at bay swept over you again, your back arching. Your nipples scratched against the hair on Bucky’s chest, the added stimulation causing you to groan in pleasure far too great to bear. Shuddering in delight, you fell apart and Bucky grunted, holding you tighter as he prepared to unload into you.
“I’m gonna fuck our brat into you.” He promised and your eyes widened. You weren’t on any pills. “Let’s see you run away now. Once you’re my wife, the mother of my child, you’ll never leave.”
“No!” You shouted, but to no avail. Bucky let out a moan, his face buried in your neck as he came inside you, flooding you with his spent. You cried at the feeling of his warmth inside you, cried at your freewill being snapped like a stretched rubber band. His hold loosened, an arm wrapped around your waist and bringing you in his side.
Turning your face to him, you sniffled when he softly wiped away your tears. Kissing you deep, he lost all the hardness that he had had earlier today, bringing to you the wounded look that had probably stayed with him for years after your departure.
“I love you so much. I never stopped loving you.” He said, blindly reaching back into his nightstand until he got the velvet lined box out. You swallowed thickly because your reality was staring you in the face with an ultimatum. No was not an option.
Knowing that the rest of your life might go much easier with a loving man by your side, you sidled closer, brushing his scruffy jaw gently. His eyes misted at your voluntary touch, overwhelmed. You’d loved this man once more than life itself. If the only shot at happiness you had was reigniting that, you’d start now.
“I will love you again too.” You promised, not knowing if it was your vulnerability or your helplessness that prompted this. “You gotta give me some time.”
Taking your hand, Bucky slipped in a diamond ring and kissed your fingers before kissing you.
“You’ll have all the time in the world almost Mrs. Barnes. We’re getting married tomorrow.”
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giorno-plays-piano · a day ago
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Heavy in Your Arms Part 2
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Pairing: warlock!Bucky Barnes x Reader
Warnings: yandere-ish Bucky, slight dubcon and forced marriage, obsession.
Words: 2000.
Summary: A wife of a powerful warlock, you uncover his dark secret that forces you to doubt your own sanity.
Part 1
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You thought you forgot how to breathe for a second. Love spell? Did he cast a love spell on you to make you marry him?
"Its strength amuses me, but, considering the ingredients used, the effects should be powerful enough to last until my death."
You realized you were shaking when you flipped the page, observing strange symbols and magic circles. Not, it couldn’t be. He couldn't caste a spell on you, could he? There was no need in it because his kindness was enough to draw you to him. Or was it? Did you feel what you feel simply because of the spell? Was there no real love?
As you heard the sound of the bells, you remembered about that poor old man who was certainly tired to wait for you, and the next second you were flying towards the stairs, teary-eyed at the thought nothing about your relationship was true. How could it be? How could James do this to you? Was he so madly in love he couldn't stand a thought you would refuse his advances?
When you came down and entered the cottage where you were taking customers, you apologized to the man sincerely, handing him the bat's wings and a pot of fairy dust. Thankfully, he wasn't angry, thanking you for that magic tea that seemed to ease his backpain, and soon he left, leaving you alone with your thoughts.
Weren't you too quick to accuse your husband? You didn't even read on whom he casted that spell. What if it were for a client? He was often employed by the nobles for various reasons, and while love spells were quite unusual for him, maybe James decided to help some wealthy duke make his young bride fell in love with him. In the end, you had never been madly in love with your husband, and he mentioned the love spell was incredibly strong.
You needed to get back to the Tower and read the journal till the end to learn the truth. James would never hurt you, right? Even a warlock wouldn't cast a spell on his own wife.
Hurrying back to the Tower, your breath heavy as you climbed the stairs in your ridiculously huge dress, you entered the room where your husband kept the supplies and picked up the journal you left laying on the floor. Flipping through the pages, you found the first mention of the love spell and began reading again.
"I am certain nothing else will work, and the spell needs to be done. I have finished gathering the ingredients, although a unicorn's tear was hard to find. I will complete the magic circle tonight."
Unicorn's tear? Weren't unicorns just a product of human imagination?
The text on the next page was written with a shaky hand - you could barely read it, and your eyes hurt.
"It hit me like a wall of water. I struggle to breathe. It works. It works so well."
You stared at the page and then rubbed your eyes, unsure you were understanding what James meant. Why did he struggle to breathe? You didn't remember such a spell that could affect a mage who used it instead of the one on whom it was casted. Besides, how did he know the spell worked? It wasn't until James courted you started developing feelings for him. Maybe the spell was really intended for someone else, not you.
"I have cried from all these feelings that make the world spin. I don't remember ever doing that before. I'm so happy I want to scream for everyone to hear me. I'm so, so happy."
Crying from happiness? No, it wasn't about James Barnes. Certainly not! What on Earth should happen to make him do this? Sure, he softened up after marrying you, but he still was a fierce warlock making people shiver as he passed by. What spell could make him so happy he started crying involuntarily?
Love spell could certainly do that.
No, no, what a stupid thought, James would never put himself under a love spell. Yes, you knew he was notorious for his magic experiments, and when he was young, he experimented even on himself, but, surely, he had long stopped doing it. Besides, what was the point? If he wanted to merely observe the power of the spell, he could easily cast it on anyone else and see what happened.
"I have barely slept. In the end, I have to put a glamour spell to look decent - I'm going to meet her today, and I don't want her to be scared of me. I'm going to visit her father's store, he sells some herbs."
You dropped the journal to the ground again as if it were cursed. That day James Buchanan Barnes was visiting the store of your father, looking forward to catch a glimpse of you. He casted that spell to make himself fall in love with you. That was why he changed so suddenly, leaving people to wonder what had happened to the warlock who didn't care about anyone or anything except his research. That was why he grew so fond of you for no reason. He didn't love you for who you were. He loved you because the spell made him to.
Hoping to find something that would prove you wrong, you picked up the journal and started reading feverishly, praying to see something like, "Haha, I've fooled you, silly! Don't go reading other people's private journals!"
"I am excited to feel this pain somewhere inside my chest where my heart should be, supposedly, but it's a great relief when it doesn't ache as much - seeing her again truly helped. It's like I was reborn. Finally, I feel what other people feel. I can't express how happy and grateful I am."
"It has been a week. The love spell works perfectly. Its strength amuses me, but, considering the ingredients used, the effects should be powerful enough to last until my death. My love doesn't suspect a thing, so it must mean I behave like a normal human being. It's a relief. "
"I know it is considered unacceptable to keep touching a woman unless she is your wife, but I can't help myself. It brings me a great pleasure to just brush my hand against hers or secretly touch her hair. As of now, she doesn't seem to mind. I hope to get a lock of her hair to keep it in my pendant."
Your tears landed directly on the paper, blurring the ink, but you no longer cared if James found out about you reading his journal. Oh, all those sweet moments you treasured so much - all of them being forced, fake, not genuine. You could swear you saw nothing but affection in his eyes, and yet it was just a love spell. The only man who was interested in you to the point of offering you his hand in marriage had always been under a spell.
Caking your dress in dirt and dust, you simply curled up on the floor, putting your arms around your knees. It was all a lie. Nothing about his feelings was true. Why did he do this? Why picking you up as a target? It wasn't like he was pressured to get married by the king. There was no reason to do something so... wicked.
"SHE SAID YES."
It was written in capital letters in the middle of an empty page. It was the day when you accepted his proposal, the day you thought was the happiest in your life. You remembered the expression James wore when you said the words he desperately wanted to hear, and you wailed at that excruciating pain in your chest as if something were crushing your ribcage and whatever was inside it. Was he lying to you that day too? Was even that expression of pure fondness fake?
Of course it was. A powerful magic could do anything, couldn't it? Carefully implanting those feelings towards someone he had never cared about, the spell did what the warlock wanted it to - made him lovesick.
"Casting a love spell was the best decision I have ever taken in my life so far. I have never felt so alive. I knew there was something alarming in detesting humans, any humans, and I am glad I am no longer detesting her. It is a miracle. Before I would feel disgusted at her touch, but now it brings me nothing but pleasure. I found myself wanting to embrace her, have her put her head on my shoulder or take me by the hand."
There was something so utterly unnatural you felt you might vomit on the floor. Oh, all those nights you spent with him, thinking he enjoyed your touches and words of love you whispered - in truth, without a spell he would be disgusted, he admitted it himself. You disgusted him as much as any other human. You would never be able to even brush your fingers against his if it weren't the spell.
Why, why, why did he do this?
"Working in the Tower becomes more and more unbearable since she isn't close. It's like an itch that I can't get rid of, always having thoughts abour her in the back of my mind. It's a bit inconvenient, but I wouldn't have it any other way. I will just move somewhere close to her. Maybe I can rearrange that barn close to the Orangery where she spends so much time."
"It has been three months since our marriage. I cannot explain my feelings with words. My life finally has a meaning other than just a research with no end purpose. It seems I can now better understand people around me thanks to developing so many feelings of my own. It has been a true blessing. Finally, I can say I am a human being too."
That was it, right? That last sentence about being human. You could feel it in your bones it was the true reason behind your husband's actions. He never felt human enough, not developing feelings towards other people like anyone else would. That was why the townsfolk called him a piece of ice, unable to hold his gaze for more than a couple of seconds. It was the ugly truth behind that perfect picture of a man who couldn't open himself to others because of his hardships. It's wasn't that he simply couldn't do it - he had no need to confide in anyone. James was empty like a cracked pot.
Of course, he chose you for no particular reason except that you were kind, understanding, and supporting. You wouldn't make his life difficult. You were a perfect target to play his loving wife if he showed you enough affection. Besides, you were just a commoner, you wouldn't reject his advances like a noble woman could.
James Buchanan Barnes was nothing like the kind-hearted, gentle, and affectionate man you imagined your husband to be. He was a selfish piece of shit who used you like he used his artifacts and magic supplies in his research. If magic were gone, he wouldn't spare you another glance.
No, you couldn't possibly stay a wife to this heartless bastard. Even if you didn't have many suitors, you didn’t deserve to be used so cruelly in just one of the warlock's experiments. What was going to happen if he wanted to undo the spell? He'd threw you out in the cold without a second thought when you would become older, much less attractive and having nothing of your own, absolutely unable to marry again and forced to scrub the floors for the rest of your life because your father wasn't going to take back a daughter who was already married.
No, no, you couldn't stay. You had to run. You had to save whatever was left of your life to rebuild it again before the warlock ruined everything.
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lil-sweater-slut · 2 days ago
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𝐆𝐡𝐨𝐬𝐭 𝐢𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐃𝐚𝐫𝐤𝐧𝐞𝐬𝐬
𝐒𝐭𝐞𝐯𝐞 𝐱 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 (𝐬𝐨𝐫𝐭 𝐨𝐟) 𝐁𝐮𝐜𝐤𝐲 𝐱 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫
𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐂𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 𝟏,𝟗𝟗𝟑
Summary: Steve likes when you’re alone with him, it helps him reflect on you and all the things you make him think when the lights go out. There’s only one obstacle in the way sometimes...your boyfriend and his best friend, Bucky
ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢꜱ: ꜱʟɪɢʜᴛ ꜱᴛᴀʟᴋᴇʀ ᴠɪʙᴇꜱ ꜰʀᴏᴍ ꜱᴛᴇᴠᴇ, ᴠᴏʏᴇʀɪꜱᴍ, ᴜɴᴘʀᴏᴛᴇᴄᴛᴇᴅ ꜱᴇx (ᴡʀᴀᴘ ɪᴛ ᴜᴘ), ꜱᴍᴜᴛ
18+ { MINORS DO NOT READ }
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Your head fell back into the pillow, mouth open wide as you pleasured yourself with a toy he gifted you. He’d never tell you that though. He pumped himself as he watching your breasts rise and fall, goosebumps decorating around your peaked nipple. He licked his lips wishing that it was him making you feel good. Like a good boy, he stayed outside your bedroom door, peaking into your moonlight room shared with Bucky.
Your POV: Bucky and you were spending as much time together as possible before he had to leave this upcoming Wednesday for a mission Fury is sending him to. You two walked as you shared a double scoop, of your favorite ice cream in a waffle cone. Taking small licks here and there and licking your lips you continued your conversation with your dashing boyfriend, “So tell me again…where is he sending you?” you inquiry with a raised brow.
“Well, you see doll…I actually can’t say exactly where I’m heading, you know the whole deal with Fury and his ‘Confidential’ bullshit.” Bucky waves his hand as he explains. He is supposed to go somewhere in Asia to follow up a lead about a cartel that might very well be dealing with Hydra. But yes you understand the whole ‘Hush-hush’ ordeal of this mission. “Hmm…and how long do you think you’ll be gone for?”
“Probably a week, a few days not long…why?” He looks over at you, his beautiful chestnut hair pulled into a low pony as a five-o’clock shadow peaked through. “Oh nothing, just wondering if I should spend a little fun time with you later In the coming days” you smirk over at him, your eyes roving over his body as you bit your bottom lip. He looks over at you from the corner of his eye, a little playful smile dancing on his lips, “Mmm I don’t see why not, I probably would want to remind you what you’d be getting when I get home.” Hand in hand, you swung your arms back and forth as you both walked back to the shared apartment with your beloved friend, and Buck’s best friend, Steve.
“Yes, yes right there, oh God don’t stop Bucky!” His hands were on your hips as he railed into you from the bottom. Your hands tangling in your hair as you moaned in pleasure, his cock always made you feel so full and good, you couldn’t help the moans that escaped your mouth.
Bucky liked it like this, he liked you like this, moaning his name, pleasure etched all over your face as your tits bounced in his face, your tight cunt wrapped around his hard cock, and his favorite, how loud you were. It was music to his ears, it was bringing him closer too. “That’s right baby, tell me how good this cock is….fuck doll…”he grunts underneath you, lifting his hips as you brought yours down to make a loud SMACK.
The coil tightened in your stomach, you knew it was coming, Bucky could tell too as you tightened around him. With one last powerful thrust, you came hard as your body became hot and tight. Bucky filling you up to the brim as he climaxed underneath you. Both of you huffing, a lazy smile spread across both of your lips until reality hit you. You have a fucking roommate, your eyes shot wide open, giggling a little as you whispered “I really hope Steve wasn’t home to hear that”. Little did you know, he was in the darkness of the hallway, jerking himself to your sweet moans.
Steve's POV: For weeks he’s been praying Bucky would go on a mission so that he could have some alone time with you. He knew you’d never actually do anything with him since you were dating his best friend but it wasn’t that. He liked when you two would watch movies together, throwing popcorn at each other, making food and listening to Edith Piaf, he loved watching you cook and dance, swaying your hips to whatever played softly in the background….the way he imagined sneaking up behind you and pulling that sweet ass into his cock-Steve! Focus! Now! He didn’t know when you and Bucky would be back from your little town date so he had to be quick about what he wanted to do. He quickly walked into you and Bucky’s shared bedroom, the bed perfectly made, probably by you, Bucky was never one to be ‘Tidy’.
He looked at it as he thought about how nice it would be to wake up next to your beautiful face every morning, the sunshine beaming through his curtains hitting your eyes just right that they glow. He shook his head from his thoughts and went back to his mission, heading over to your dresser. He pulled out the top drawer as he pulled out a dark lacy panty from the drawer, he examines it over a bit, recognizing this is the same one you wore about a week ago when you thought you were home alone and cleaning the apartment. God you looked so beautiful and sexy dancing around the kitchen to someone called ‘Mr. Worldwide’. Focus. He quickly stuffed it into his pocket to put with the others…yes, he has done this…several times. It was the closest he could get to your sweet little pussy.
You never noticed cause Bucky always spoils you to lingerie/ general shopping every now and then. To replace the underwear, he put in a black silicon vibrator in its place. He bought it the third or fourth time Bucky left, He thought that the vibrator would mimic…. something else. He covered the toy in underwear so that Bucky wouldn’t find it. Hopefully. He hated doing this to Buck, he really did. But he just fell for you, hard. He doesn’t know when, but it hit him like a vibranium truck, and he was hooked on you. He checked his watch, Good. He still has time to go to town and make sure that you and Buck are having a good time. Just precaution. Dressed up in that god awful disguise of a baseball cap, jacket and sunglasses, he followed you both from the other side of the road, keeping a tentative eye on you mostly. He couldn’t hear what you guys were talking about, he could tell that you were happy, he always thought you looked good in love and wished often that you were looking at him like that, sharing ice cream, arm locked around his elbow as your dazzling smile danced on your face. And-
What in the fuck are you doing doll face?
He freezes in his tracks as he watches you lick your ice cream, the cream on your tongue reminding him of it being himself on your tongue, you licking the rest of the ice cream from your lips. God…his head is spinning, it’s little actions like these that make him wish him and you were at home and you were on your knees lapping up his seed from his cock-
And God dammit he’s hard in public. He looked away frustrated and hurried home before you came home. When he came in, he grabbed his latest addition to his collection, feeling the fabric between his fingers as he settled on his bed, slowly pumping himself, imagining it’s your mouth wrapped around his cock. When the front door slammed open, his ears perked up hearing your moans, but quickly groaning in annoyance when he heard Bucky join in.
Your POV: The goodbye was sweet and short as you and Buck gave a quick peck on the lips. You waved goodbye and smiled so brightly up at him. He blew you a kiss then looked over at his pal, “alright punk you know the drill-“ “Keep her safe, lock the doors and take care of it, Come on Buch have at least a little more faith in me” Steve smiled and wrapped an arm around your shoulder, and you wrapping an arm around his waist. Bucky grinned looking at his two-favorite people, “Don’t do anything stupid ‘till I get back.” And with that the hatch shut and the quinjet was off. You sighed and looked over at Steve who was still looking up at the jet, “So, dinner?” you quip up at him. “Oh hell yeah let’s get started, I’m starving” you both walk into the kitchen making whatever with whatever ingredients you had around the place.
During dinner, you guys ate on the couch watching some of your old favorite cartoons from your childhood, your freshly painted feet resting on the coffee table, “So, how was your day Steve?” he looked over at you, trying to keep his eyes from your exposed legs, you were wearing cute little plaid pajama shorts that rode a bit high on your thigh, not to mention he could see a little of you nipples peaking through your pajama shirt, he quickly pushed the thoughts away, “oh not too bad, got some stuff done today.” He nonchalantly states. You quirked your face at him, always so nosey, “Uh huh what kind of stuff?” He shrugged his shoulders and smirked at his thought, “just a little collecting, analyzing, fun stuff you know.” He took one last bite from his food, setting the plate down on the coffee table by your feet. As it got later, you got that stupid itching nerve again.
How could this happen now? Come on girl! You just got laid…
You grumbled to yourself, “Hey, I’m gonna head to bed okay? Good night” You smiled shyly to Steve and retreated down the hall to your room shutting the door behind you.
Steves POV: “Goodnight.” His eyes followed you down the hall to your bedroom door till it closed. He looked down at his watch, it was only 10:30pm. Okay that’s a bit odd. You usually go to bed later. His curiosity got the best of him as he followed to your bedroom, he put his ear to the door hearing your small gasps and moans along with…vibrating.
Oh good girl…I knew you’d like my present.
He grinned to himself, hearing your breathy moans quickly giving him the boner he lost earlier today, but now it could be uninterrupted. He took a deep breath as he moved the doorknob slowly, your door creaking only a little, a crack now small enough to see you arching your back against the bed, holding his present to you clit. He palmed himself through his jeans watching you pleasure yourself. He could perfectly imagine his head being in between your thighs, licking at your juices, sticking a finger or two into your core to make you nice and wet for his cock when he would give it to you.
He gently pulled himself out as he thought about fucking your sweet cunt, how tight it would be around his length. For a split second, he swore he heard you whisper his name, he chalked it off as his imagination getting the best of him. Soon your moans got louder, he could tell you were getting close.
Yes…don’t stop please…feels so fucking good baby.
His eyes fixated on your body and they way it moved. In his head he was fucking you good and hard, filling you up as you moaned and begged him for more, he gritted his teeth as he drew near his climax
God yes Y/n tell me how good that feels doll
So fucking good…I’m close
Me too baby…come for me
In that exact moment, in a weird coincidence, you ripped out a loud scream as you came down from your climax Steve’s body jutting forward as he came seeing your body arching completely off of the bed. He sighed heavily and put himself back into his sweats, he turned his body away from the door, running his fingers through his golden locks.
“Good night Steve.” He stopped in place.
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giorno-plays-piano · 2 days ago
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Heavy in Your Arms Part 1
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Pairing: warlock!Bucky Barnes x Reader
Warnings: yandere-ish Bucky, slight dubcon and forced marriage, obsession.
Words: 1492.
Summary: A wife of a powerful warlock, you uncover his dark secret that forces you to doubt your own sanity.
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"I promise I'll be done quickly." his lips gently touched your cheek, and you giggled at the feeling of his three day beard brushing against your face. "We shall have a dinner under the oak tree tonight."
The mighty oak tree as old as time stood proudly in the field in front of a castle: it was a place where James Buchanan Barnes had proposed to you a year ago, and since then it became your favorite spot where you constantly had picnics, held dinners, or simply sat beneath it, talking. You weren't surprised he wanted to spend time together there again.
"Of course." you leaned closer for a kiss, carefully fixing the clasp on his black travel cloak. "Do not spend too much time looking at other women, alright?"
"Are you jealous? Really?" he burst out laughing, shaking his head before he kissed you again and then stood back, finally getting on his horse. "I will be back soon. Do not miss me too much."
"I certainly shall!"
It had been a year since your life changed drastically: you becoming a wife of warlock James Barnes was beyond your imagination, and yet you accepted his proposal of marriage after he started courting you. It was unbelievable - he had never seemed interested in women. Actually, he wasn't even interested in people, aside from his scary black magic studies that involved humans. He had been well-known in town for being ruthless, cold, and unpleasant man to deal with. It was truly a miracle one day he changed so drastically.
Well, it was love behind most miracles, wasn’t it? They said love was the most powerful force in the universe, and, of course, even a mighty warlock wasn’t immune to it.
It started when one day he simply entered the store of your father and bought all the herbs he could see, paying so generously for something he could easily get by himself - being a warlock, he had lots of various supplies for casting spells and brewing potions. He was clearly showing he was favoring your family, choosing your little store over dozens of others. But why? Of course, you knew him just like most townspeople did, yet everybody tried to stay away from James Barnes, a man who could easily cast a curse and make your flesh rot with just a couple of magic words.
You remembered the way he looked at you when you were packing all those herbs and powders: you had never ever seen the warlock looking at anyone with such an expression. It was... strange. As if he were really, really found of you all of a sudden, despite the fact he had already seen you on many occasions but never spared you another glance unless it was absolutely necessary. Did something change? Did you change? Naturally, your father tried convincing you that you grew even more beautiful, making the warlock fall in love with you, but you still had doubts.
It's not like you had many suitors to begin with. How come a man of his status became attracted to you?
Soon James Barnes was openly searching for you when you were taking a stroll in the public gardens, going to the market on town square or simply walking the streets. He was magically appearing everywhere you went. You would find it scary on any other occasion, but he had been so uncharacteristically courteous and gallant you grew to enjoy his presence.
Well, maybe the rumors of his foul temper weren't true. Nobody had been close to the warlock since he preferred to keep people away; it's not like anybody knew the true him. What if behind that gloomy façade was a troubled but kind man?
The more you discovered about him, the more you grew to like the warlock. He had been deviously clever, experienced in combat, knowing more about witchcraft than anyone you knew, and yet you felt like you could trust him with your life - you had never met anyone who treated you so kindly in your entire life. It wasn't surprising after a month of courtship he asked you to marry him.
Of course, you said yes.
You came down to your senses when you heard the bells ringing: somebody was at your door, probably somebody from the town, hoping to ask for an advice or buy some healing ointment. After you got married, James taught you about magic, mostly to mend things - and people, too. Now you could brew potions and make spells yourself, and townsfolk was calling you the Mistress of Black Tower. You found it too pretentious - especially since James kept the Tower where he conducted his experiments locked at all times - but it was much better than the Mistress of Nothing.
"Please, come in." you smiled at an elderly man you knew well, opening the door for him, and he timidly stepped inside. "What can I do for you?"
"Good day, m'lady." he bowed his bald head, paying his respects. "I came for bat's wings just like we have discussed."
Oh, of course. You had completely forgotten about it! You promised to get him two pairs of bat's wings for his rheumatism: they were a key ingredient in his treatment.
"Could you wait a little, please? I will fetch them myself. My husband keeps them in the Tower, and only I have the keys." Smiling apologetically, you offered an old man a seat and drew a symbol in the air, making the teapot and cups jump as if they were alive: the tea was getting ready with a convenient spell James taught you.
Watching the man looking at the cup flying into his hand, you smiled and hurried towards the Tower. This place had always been surrounded by rumors since it was where the warlock practiced his witchcraft, mostly black magic. Naturally, James knew and used not only it, but it had been his greatest obsession for years, making him unwanted in most associations of magicians. Over the years, the use of black magic had stained the stone the Tower was built of, and the Tower became black.
Funny, you thought, now he didn’t seem to spend as much time there as during first months of your marriage. In fact, you barely remembered him going inside for conducting any experiments. Now James only came to the Tower to fetch something as most of his magic supplies and artifacts were there.
Huffing and puffing, you climbed upstairs, hoping there were some bat’s wings left. You had completely forgotten to get new ones.
There should be some over here, you thought as you climbed the ladder, coughing and promising yourself to clean up those old shelves even if James was going to protest: it was nearly impossible to find anything there! The layers of dust were so thick it was hard to breathe.
Oh, there they were! You were lucky enough to find the last two pairs. They were certainly old, and while they would still do for a treatment, that poor man would have to spend more time making it. You definitely had to give him a little jar of fairy’s dust as an apology.
Suddenly, as the ladder squeaked beneath you, you felt you were falling and tried to climb the shelves in an attempt to stay still. Of course, it didn’t work out well, and books and pots fell down with you. Oh, it hurt! Groaning and rubbing your bum, you got on your knees, realizing you were lucky you weren’t struck by ancient folios. Thank goodness, the wings were safe, too.
You had to quickly put everything back before James came back and saw this chaos. He wouldn’t be happy to learn you fell down because you were too careless.
Picking up books and pots, you let out a breath of relief: nothing was damaged. As you read the books’ titles, trying to remember in what order they lay, you spotted a leather-bound journal with nothing written on it. What was it? You quickly dropped whatever you were holding and grabbed the journal instead, spotting James’ handwriting on the first page.
Oh. It was his personal book of witchcraft. A journal where he wrote about all his findings. You bit down on your lower lip, knowing it was unlikely your husband wanted you to read it. You thought he had hidden it in some secret place, away from prying eyes, but he simply put it on a shelf in the Tower. Did it mean you could read it? He gave you the keys himself, allowing you to enter the Tower as often as you wanted.
Knowing the old man was still waiting for you, you quickly opened it, determined to see just a few pages, and immediately skipped those where you spotted some scary bloody ritual. When you opened the next few pages, it was a sentence written on top that caught you off guard.
“The love spell works perfectly.”
Part 2
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Tags: @finleyjayne​ @alexakeyloveloki​ ​@helenaeisenhower​ @villanellevi​ @hurricanerin​ @inlovewiththefictionalcharacters @chris-evans-indian-fanfic​ @navegandoaciegas​ @rosalynshields​ @brattycherubwrites @sllooney​ @angrythingstarlight​ @lookiamtrying​ @buckysbunny​ @soleil-dor​ @stargazingfangirl18​ @dillybuggg​ @literate-lamb​ @cosicas-cuquis​ @sarge-barnes-sir​ @buckybarnesplumwhore​ @jaysayey​ @megzdoodle​ @gotnofucks​ @lux-ravenwolf​ @ximebebx​ @jeremyrennerfanxxxx123​ @sourpatchspinster​ @iheartsebandchris​
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cherienymphe · 2 days ago
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Goosebumps (Bucky Barnes x Reader)
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WARNINGS: NON-CON, alluded to Non-con, alluded to dub-con, alluded to abusive relationships, manipulation, roofie use, infidelity, violence (attempted drowning), brief side of Steve x reader 
! By proceeding you are acknowledging that you are over 18 and are consenting to the content below the cut !
➥ {page breaks done by @whimsicalrogers​}
summary: Living with your roommate was a dream come true...until she met Bucky.
~
Living with a roommate at your age seemed so silly. You were a college graduate, considering going for your Master’s even, and a roommate just seemed so juvenile. It didn’t matter to you how fun Friends made it look. It just didn’t appeal to you. 
Then you met her. 
She liked to go by “B”. That was what she had told you when you met for coffee at a nearby cafe, an attempt to feel each other out if only just to put your mind at ease. You were desperate to lighten some of the weight on your shoulders, she was no different, so it was unspoken that even if you didn’t really care for each other, desperate times called for desperate measures. 
“All of my friends just call me B,” she’d said with a shrug, sipping on a Frappuccino that had way more milk than coffee. “I have a horrid name.”
You had chuckled, feeling a bit more relaxed at her light personality. 
“It’s good that you’re so enthusiastic about this. I was prepared to cohabitate with a stranger for the better part of a year,” you’d honestly replied. 
She waved her hand. 
“That sounds so depressing. I figure if we’re going to be sharing a living space, we might as well make the most of it and at least attempt to be friends.” 
You nodded, liking her reasoning and outlook, and as it turns out, she was right. B was really easy to get along with. She was clean and responsible and respectful about your space. She put things back where she found them, she wasn’t loud throughout all hours of the night, and she even brought out a side of you that you didn’t know existed. Living with B was a dream come true…
Until she met Bucky. 
The strawberry blonde was far from a lonely girl, her bedroom no stranger to the occasional guest. You didn’t judge. After all, you’d had your fair share of hookups here and there too, and that was exactly what Bucky was at first. A hookup. 
You had stumbled into the kitchen in the middle of the night, throat dry and stomach protesting as you went in search of something to eat. The microwave light was on, casting a low glow over the otherwise dark room, and you hadn’t been able to bite back your sharp yelp at the shadowy figure standing in the corner of the room. 
Light flooded the kitchen, and you blinked. 
“You got some lungs on you.”
You had stared at the strange man in shock. He was leaning against the counter, nursing a glass of alcohol. Your alcohol, you had thought with narrowed eyes. He was half dressed, grey sweats hanging dangerously low on his hips, the bands of muscle that was his chest and arms on display. 
“...and...you are?” you had eventually asked after clearing your throat. 
He didn’t respond right away, opting instead to drag his deep blue gaze over you...slowly and in a way that made you uncomfortable. You suddenly felt very naked in your oversized t-shirt even though it came past your knees. You crossed your arms over your chest, taking a step back, and the stranger smirked. 
“You must be the roommate,” he said, eyes meeting yours again. “B told me she had one.” 
You nodded at that, having already surmised that this was B’s fling for the night. He still had yet to tell you his name, and if you didn’t know any better, his smirk grew, lips curling in a way that you didn’t like. 
“I’m Bucky,” he’d finally introduced, sticking his hand out. 
You reluctantly shook it, snatching your hand away when his index finger brushed along the inside of your wrist. He hummed, and you quietly told him your name, turning away to peer inside the fridge. You could feel his gaze boring into your back, and you fought to ignore it. 
“Is B asleep?” you asked after a while. 
He chuckled, and the sound of it made your skin prick. It sounded humorous, but in a way that made you feel like there was a joke you weren’t in on. 
“She was practically passed out before we even got in the door.” 
You swore you had never turned around so fast in your life. The fridge clicked shut behind you as you stared at him, eyes stricken and brows furrowed. Your heart dropped to your stomach as you took a step towards him. 
“Excuse me?”
He pursed his lips, like he was trying to fight back a smile, and he suddenly chuckled. 
“I was exaggerating. A little dark humor…”
You didn’t respond, finding no humor in the situation, and he scoffed. You watched as he brought the glass to his lips, his blue eyes focused on you as he took a sip. 
“Don’t worry, doll. It was perfectly consensual,” he told you. 
There was something in his gaze that gave you pause, a certain gleam that caused a shudder to travel down your spine. There was a part of you that didn’t believe him, a part of you that wanted to accuse him of something dark and serious. However, a larger part of you called you silly. After all, what could you do besides ask B tomorrow what had really happened? 
Breaking the gaze, you glanced away, swallowing with a nod. You suddenly had no appetite, and you left the kitchen empty handed, leaving him there to nurse his drink alone. You had been tempted to tell him to reimburse you, but you were sure you’d never see him again so what did it really matter? On the rare occasion that you ran into any of her hookups, you never saw them again. This unnervingly attractive blue-eyed stranger with his dark gaze and secretive smiles would be no different. 
So imagine your shock to find him on your couch a week later. 
You had actually dropped your purse in surprise, the clatter drawing his attention from his phone. You swallowed, hurriedly picking it up and clutching it to you, face falling as your eyes met his. You straightened, the silence bordering on uncomfortable as you frowned at him. 
He slowly leaned back into the couch, throwing an ankle onto his knee as he spread his arms along the back of the white pleather. In the natural lighting that came from the evening sun, you took the time to really study him. Study this man who put you so on edge. 
His dark hair was short, far from a buzz cut, but just lengthy enough to be styled. He had sharp features, light facial hair on his face surrounding his pink lips. Said lips were curved upwards just a tad, a small smirk on them as he eyed you. He was dressed nicely, you noted, a dark t-shirt paired with equally dark slacks. It was topped off with a black blazer. He lounged on the couch you bought like he lived here, and distaste filled your mouth. 
Your mind whirled just as he spoke. 
“Hey,” he simply said, but the single word seemed to hold a myriad of meanings. 
You didn’t respond, simply turning away from him so dismissively you swore you heard him scoff. You made your way to B’s room, the two of you so close now that it was nothing of you to just walk in. She had just slipped a bright red dress on, the relieved reflection of her face meeting yours through the mirror. 
“Thank God you’re here! Can you zip me up?”
You shut the door behind you and did as she asked. 
“You’re seeing that guy again?”
She seemed distracted, and it took her a minute to register your words. 
“Hmm? Bucky? Oh yeah. He’s sexy, isn’t he?”
“...I guess…”
You personally would’ve used other words to describe him. 
“You’ve met him before, right? Last week after I finally crashed…”
That morning after, she had assured you that they both had been wasted and she’d been more than eager to have sex with him. However, from what you could remember, he’d seemed as sober as a saint as he stood in your kitchen. 
“Yeah, I just...I didn’t think you’d see him again.” 
“I know right?”
You watched as she flurried around the room, putting on an anklet here, blotting her lips there. 
“You know I’m far from a relationship kind of girl, but there’s something about him. He’s so different from the other guys I see.”
You didn’t know how to respond to that, so you simply hummed. She finally grabbed her clutch, shaking out her hair one last time before finally seeming satisfied. She grinned at you. 
“We’re kind of doing things backwards but wish me luck!”
You turned to watch her as she exited her room, Bucky rising as she neared. You didn’t hear the words being exchanged, but he had a bright grin on his face as he looked her over, saying something that made her giggle. He leaned in to kiss her cheek, and his eyes met yours as he did so. They weren’t so bright now, smile fading. Your eyes narrowed at the way he seemed to hold her upper arm, and you could do nothing more but stare as he led her out, B departing with a wave over her shoulder. 
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You grimaced as you exited your bathroom, a familiar and unwelcome noise greeting you at 3 in the morning. Even through two walls, you could hear B’s labored breathing and Bucky’s deep grunts. Disgust filled you for more than one reason. 
When you had run into Bucky that night, you thought it was going to be another one night stand. When he’d showed up in your living room a week later, B eagerly preparing for a date, you thought a fling at most. Lasting a few weeks tops. Yet, here you were, over a year later and Bucky was still a constant presence in your lives. 
“We’re getting kind of serious,” B had told you just before going on the fifth date in a row with him. 
You didn’t think she meant it at the time. You had been in denial, unable to accept what was actually happening and your feelings regarding it. By the time their 8 month anniversary came around, you had no choice but to come to terms with the fact that Bucky wasn’t going anywhere anytime soon. 
He started frequenting the apartment a lot more. He was there when you woke up and was there when you went to bed. He was on the couch, B in his lap when you came home from work. Sometimes he was even in the kitchen when you ventured from your room late at night, your way of avoiding him only proving to do the opposite. He was always just...there, and it drove you up the wall. 
“Let me guess, he’s an ass?” a coworker had asked one day. 
“No, not...not really I guess.”
Your reply wasn’t convincing, but it was the truth. He was never outwardly rude. Truth be told, you didn’t interact with him much to even accurately say. 
“Does he smell? I had a boyfriend once who, turns out, wasn’t properly wiping his butt,” another coworker had chimed in. 
“No, God no.” 
“Does he treat her like shit?”
“Is he messy?” 
“Don’t tell me he still thinks racist jokes are funny?”
Questions like these were always thrown at you, and every time you gave the same answer. 
“No, nothing like that at all.”
And every time you would get the same response. 
“So what exactly is the problem?”
And the answer would be right there on the tip of your tongue, begging for release. It was just there below the surface, but you swallowed it down each and every time, too far in denial about your feelings. Until one day, it had tumbled out without your consent. 
“I hate him.”
Your coworkers had looked at you in shock, and you understood why. You said it with so much conviction, so dramatically that you’d think Bucky had ran over your cat and then danced on her grave. You had practically spat the answer out, lips trembling and goosebumps erupting over your flesh at the thought of the dark haired man. 
There. 
You had finally admitted it. 
You’d finally accepted what you had so long been denying. You hated Bucky Barnes, and maybe hate was such a strong word to use, but how else would you categorize it? How else would you explain the way your heart fell into your stomach every time he came around? The nausea that swirled in your gut with so much as a glance from him? The way his very presence seemed to evoke such a strong physical reaction from you that you were sure you were going to be sick? 
“...why?” they had asked, confusion coloring their features, and what else could you do but shrug? 
Because the truth was that…
“I don’t know.” 
“You don’t know?” 
“Look, I know how it sounds, okay? I know that, but...he’s not good for her. I don’t know how I know that, but I just do. There’s just something not right about him.” 
It sounded so silly when you said it out loud, and even your coworkers frowned, but their gazes grew sympathetic with one look at your face. Even if you seemingly had no good reason to do so, it was clear as day that your feelings about him were genuine. You hated him, and a small part of you that you had been trying to ignore, whispered something else in your ear. Something that you had never even wanted to think. 
On some small scale, you were afraid of him. 
“Have you told her?”
You scoffed. 
“...and what would I say when she asks why? The same thing I just told you? She’d laugh in my face and with good reason.”
B was smitten. She was the happiest you had ever seen her, and it was almost enough to make you do some soul searching. After all, someone who was supposedly awful couldn’t possibly make her that happy, right? Clearly, she saw a part of him that you didn’t, and how could she not? She spent so much time with him while you avoided him like the plague. 
But it wasn’t like you hadn’t tried to give him a chance, because you most certainly had. You had tried so hard to like him, to see what she saw, and part of you did. He had hypnotic blue eyes, an enviable bone structure, and baby pink lips that would draw in just about any woman. It didn’t hurt that he had the kind of body you’d only see on perfectly casted tv show heartthrobs, but the illusion always gave way to something more. 
You could only see the way those deep blues perfectly hid what he was really thinking, making you wonder if B even really knew him at all. Sometimes they’d flash with something so dark it froze you, but it would be gone just as quickly, and you’d wonder to yourself if you imagined it. When you thought about those pink lips, you only thought of his secretive smiles and mocking smirks, like he was always in on some joke that you weren’t privy to. That perfect body that would make any woman swoon, that should make you swoon, only gave way to thoughts about how easy it must be for him to hurt someone. To hold someone down and do anything he wanted to them. 
You could only think about what kind of disturbing things such a pretty package could hide. 
The more you thought about it, the crazier you sounded, you decided. You knew how you sounded, knew that you had no legitimate reason to hate this man, to be so afraid of him. That was what you kept telling yourself, but as you stepped into your house that evening, suspicious eyes meeting his, you knew that you weren’t wrong. He smirked at you as he neared you, and it was that look right there. 
That gleam in his eye was the cause of all of your problems. 
There was something predatory in his gaze whenever his eyes landed on you. They glinted with a dangerous mirth and curiosity and something borderline disturbing that you just couldn’t put your finger on. He’d tilt his head at you, like he was doing now, and he’d run his eyes over you in a way that made you feel so incredibly vulnerable. It was almost like he was sizing you up every time he looked at you. For what...you didn’t know. 
“B went to get takeout. You like Chinese right?” 
“Uh...yeah,” you said, moving past him. “...but I’m actually not that hungry. I think I’m gonna just turn in early.”
You could feel his gaze on you, practically feel his feet almost catching onto yours as he followed you into the kitchen. He was leaning against the doorway as you put your empty lunch container in the sink. The silence was awkward, suffocating, but they always were with you two. 
God, you couldn’t wait until they broke up. 
“You say that just about every night.”
His tone came off accusatory, and you turned to frown at him. 
“Well, I get up early almost every morning. I can’t exactly afford to be a night owl,” you replied. 
Now it was your tone that was accusatory. You didn’t know what Bucky did for a living, but he was always able to spoil B with the most lavish gifts, take her on trips you could only dream about, and drive her around in his expensive car. The mystery surrounding how he was able to afford such a lifestyle only served to further unnerve you. 
If you didn’t know any better, you’d say that Bucky picked up on your tone. His jaw ticked, eyes narrowing just a tad as he studied you. Uncomfortable with his very presence, and having nothing more to say, you wished him a good night before slipping past him. 
You both knew it wasn’t genuine. 
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For the first time in over a year, you finally felt like you weren’t crazy. God it felt so good to be right, but how unfortunate it was that you were. In the grand scheme of things, it wasn’t even much, not nearly as bad as it could’ve been, but the simultaneous satisfaction and anger and disappointment that tore through you as you stared at Bucky couldn’t be ignored. 
You realized that some part of you wanted to be wrong. For B’s sake. 
It was a rare night out for you. B had talked you into putting on some skimpy outfit with glossy lips and done up hair before dragging you outside into the awaiting nightlife. You had thought that it was going to be just the two of you. You should’ve clocked it when she told you that you wouldn’t need your car keys. 
Bucky and his fancy car had awaited you both downstairs. He was dressed as impeccably as always, B practically jumping into his awaiting arms as he caught her with a deep kiss. You had looked away, anger and annoyance simmering inside of you as you realized this night would not go as planned. 
You were reluctant to do so as B instructed you to “hop in” into his convertible. She was making herself comfortable in the passenger seat, and you had eyed the car with a grimace while fingering your short dress. Before you had time to figure out how to maneuver yourself into the backseat, warm and unfamiliar hands were on your waist. 
You had jerked at his touch, stomach turning violently as he pulled you against him, forcing your back to his chest. Before you had time to voice your displeasure, he was lifting you. Just a tad, only enough to sit you on the car, and you were quick to swing your legs inside, sliding out of his tight grip, shuddering when his fingers brushed over you as you did so. 
You glared up at him, but he was already making his way to the driver’s seat. B, either oblivious or unconcerned with the whole thing, was reapplying her lipstick in the mirror. The rational part of your brain told you that he had only helped you into the car. You’d needed it, after all, but the part that absolutely detested this man disagreed. 
Was it just you, or had he taken a deep breath as he pulled you against him? Surely you imagined the way his fingers seemed to almost knead into your sides as he briefly held you. Or the way they lingered when you rushed to get out of his hold. You were imagining things. For your own sanity, you told yourself you were imagining things. 
But you weren’t imagining this. 
The three of you found yourselves inside of the 4th club of the night. You’d gotten separated from them somehow, but it was of no concern. You were away from Bucky and that was all that mattered. But then you had wanted to find B, and you couldn’t. The flashing lights and crowds of swaying bodies made it hard to do so, so you’d texted her. Then called her. And then FaceTimed her. 
You’d gotten no response to all three, and you’d started to worry. However, you told yourself that she was with Bucky so clearly she was alright. Somehow, that knowledge did little to reassure you, but you at least figured that he wouldn’t let anything happen to her. 
But you were wrong. 
She wasn’t with Bucky, because Bucky was here, in front of you, chatting up some leggy brunette. 
You had come up short, brows furrowed and lips parting as you watched the way he leaned a hand against the wall, partially caging the other woman in. She didn’t seem to mind, grinning up at him with a look in her eyes that you knew all too well. The worst part was that Bucky was looking at her the same way. Your heart stuttered as he stepped closer, a smirk on his lips as his other hand came up to brush over her shoulder. 
An anger like no other filled you, and you marched towards them. You had wanted to be right. You had wanted to be right so badly, but not like this. You didn’t want to be right at the sake of your friend’s feelings, in the worst way possible. 
You had grabbed his arm so harshly it was a wonder he didn’t stumble. He seemed momentarily shocked, even a little annoyed at the interruption, but his features evened out as his eyes landed on you. As if it was ‘oh, just you’. In fact, his smirk returned at the sight of you, and you wanted to punch it right off of his pretty face. 
“I can’t find B. Help me look for her.”
Your tone was harsh, accusatory and venomous as you glared at him. His own eyes narrowed at you, lip twitching just a tad as he ran his eyes over you. 
“Who’s B?” the mystery woman asked, and you were all too eager to answer before he did. 
“His girlfriend,” you spat at her. 
She seemed a bit taken aback, eyebrows raising in mild surprise, but it was clear that she wasn’t all that shocked. You wondered if she could also see right through him. Maybe you weren’t crazy, after all. Maybe everyone could...everyone but B. 
You didn’t give the two a chance to say goodbye, tugging on his arm with a sneer. He easily followed, allowing you to do so, and you swore you heard him chuckle. You were startled as he suddenly flicked his arm, hand closing around your wrist as he yanked you. Hard enough to send you falling into his chest. 
You were quick to press your free hand against him, desperate to get away when the other wrapped around your upper arm, fingers digging into the skin. You winced, cringing away as he leaned in, blue eyes appearing so much darker in the low lighting. 
“What’s the rush?”
Your frown deepened, disgust and fear battling it out inside of you as you ripped yourself away from him. You almost stumbled, righting yourself. 
“What’s the rush? The rush is that B, your girlfriend, could be drunk or in danger right now. Maybe both. That’s the rush,” you spat at him, hurriedly turning away. 
You didn’t need to look back to know he was there. You could feel the heat of his gaze. It was silent between you two, but you hardly noticed. You were too preoccupied with finding B and replaying what you’d just saw. You hadn’t liked Bucky since the first day you met, and you hadn’t been able to give a reason for it...until now. 
You found B at the bar, nursing a fruity drink as she laughed with some people you didn’t recognize. Her eyes widened as they met yours, her grin widening as well as she waved you over. You wanted to tell her what you saw, you wanted to shove it in her face and say ‘see! This man is all kinds of scum’. You wanted Bucky gone once and for all. 
But then she looked over your shoulder, and her grin shifted. It was softer, eyes sparkling as they landed on Bucky, and suddenly she wasn’t reaching for you anymore, but instead him, and your heart sank. It twisted as you watched her pull him into a kiss, drunkenly asking where he’d been, a dopey smile on her face and he gave her some story about running into an old friend. 
You doubted that woman’s name was Steve. 
B merely hummed, kissing him again before trailing her lips over his jaw. B was a horny drunk, always had been, and you knew that you’d be calling it a night very soon. As her head lolled against his chest, drunk murmurings leaving her lips, Bucky turned so that his eyes met yours. 
There was that gleam again, full of mirth as he stared you down. His lips twitched, as if fighting back a smile, and he raised one dark eyebrow at you, blue eyes almost daring you to do what you both knew you wanted to do. You swallowed, throat incredibly thick all of a sudden as you watched the way he ran his fingers through her hair, eyes never leaving yours as he pressed his lips to the top of her head. 
You balled your hands into fists, looking away, and you refused to look at him for the rest of the night. 
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“Come on, Y/N! You’re seriously going to pass this up?” 
B’s voice was disbelieving, and her face matched her tone. Her brows were furrowed, nose scrunched as she skeptically eyed you. You merely shrugged, flicking through the channels in front of you. 
“I’m just not up for it,” you told her. 
She scoffed. 
“The trip is two months from now. How can you decide that now?” 
You briefly closed your eyes, releasing a sigh as you avoided her own. 
“I just don’t wanna go, okay?”
She was quiet for a while, and you almost regretted your tone until she spoke. 
“Is this about Bucky?” her voice was soft...and sad. 
Your eyes flitted to hers, a little too fast, and you shook your head. 
“No, of course-.”
“Please don’t insult my intelligence,” she exhaled, and you shrank in on yourself. 
It was quiet for a while, the only noise being that of the TV. 
“Look...I know you aren’t crazy about him, okay? You try your best to hide it but…,” she trailed off. 
You suddenly felt guilty as she sadly eyed you, and she shifted closer to you on the couch. 
“He’s a great guy, Y/N. Really…”
“No, he’s not-.”
You suddenly cut yourself off, looking away with a frown. You had been stewing over what you saw for weeks, contemplating the right thing to do. Should you tell her and risk your friendship? Or should you not, and risk both her feelings and your friendship? 
“What?”
“Nothing-.”
“No, say what you were going to say.”
Her voice was hard now, an edge in there, and you sighed again. You finally looked at her again, and swallowed at the way she frowned at you, waiting for you to continue. 
“Do you remember when we all went out weeks ago?” 
Her frown deepened, no doubt trying to sift through her drunken haze before nodding. 
“I went to go find Bucky because I couldn’t get a hold of you, and I was getting worried. Naturally, I thought you’d be with him...but you weren’t. Someone else was…” 
You saw the way her brown eyes flashed, and she sharply inhaled. 
“Okay…,” she dragged it out, urging you to continue. 
You suddenly felt unsure. 
“He… Look, maybe it was just a harmless conversation, but that’s certainly not how it looked.” 
She sat back in the chair, blinking at you. 
“...and how did it look?”
“It was clear he was flirting with this girl, okay? Leaning over her, touching her…”
You trailed off as B stood, crossing her arms over her chest as she faced you. She scoffed. 
“You’re acting like this because of a conversation?” 
You knew that you weren’t giving her much, and you briefly touched your forehead. 
“You didn’t see them, okay? I did, and I know what I saw.” 
“So what are you saying?” 
Her tone was accusatory, eyes hardening as she waited for you to say what had been on your tongue for over a year. 
“I’m saying that Bucky isn’t good for you. He’s not a good guy,” you told her, standing now too. 
“And how would you know that? Never mind the fact that you don’t know him at all,  despite the fact that we’ve been dating for over a year, but you wouldn’t know a good guy if he smacked you in the face.”
“Hey-.”
“You don’t know anything about men outside of how to fuck them when you want to let off some steam. You don’t do relationships. You’re just like I was so forgive me if I’m not going to take relationship advice from you,” she continued. 
“You can insult me all you like but it doesn’t change the fact that your boyfriend is not who you think he is,” you fired back. 
“Oh, but somehow he’s who you think he is? Why do you think you know him better than me?” 
“Because I’m not blinded by his dick!” 
She reared back as if you had slapped her, and you almost felt bad, but your desperation won. You needed her to see Bucky for what he really was, and at this point, you didn’t care if you had to hurt her feelings to do it. She softly scoffed, briefly glancing away before quietly chuckling to herself.  
“I have to wonder what this is really about…”
Her words confused you, and you frowned as her eyes bore into yours. 
“...maybe this has more to do with a little green eyed monster than anything else.”
Now it was your turn to scoff. 
“You can’t be serious.”
She simply shrugged, staring at you like she was waiting for you to admit it. 
“You think I want your boyfriend? You think I’m that desperate for someone like him-?”
“Desperate?”
She looked insulted, and you pressed your lips together. Her lips trembled, and your heart sank as tears filled her eyes. 
“I’m sorry that we can’t all be miss independent like you. I’m not you, Y/N. I’m not going to sit here and pretend like I don’t want a boyfriend and affection and someone to hold me at night, because I do, and Bucky gives me all of that and more.”
“B,” you sighed. 
“You have treated him like some sort of leper since he first came into this house. I have pretended to ignore it for as long as I can. Until you get over whatever narrative you’ve made up in your head, and at least attempt to be nice to him, we have nothing more to discuss.” 
You flinched as she slammed her room door shut behind her, leaving you alone and conflicted in the living room. 
It was later in the night when you heard Bucky come in, and sometimes you forgot that she’d given him a key. Forgotten, chosen to ignore, did it really matter? It wasn’t long before you heard them, and you swallowed down the bile that threatened to rise. 
You forced yourself into your shower, determined to wash away the stress of today. When you came out, you were disappointed to find that you could still hear them, and you had just gotten dressed when a change in their voices caught your attention. You paused. 
It sounded like they were arguing. It was hushed, but you recognized the tones and rushed speech all the same. You neared your door, cracking it just a tad, and the true nature of what was going on reached your ears. 
B’s voice sounded strained, shaky even, and Bucky sounded angry. Aggressive. You frowned, taking a step into the hallway as your heart hammered in your chest. You heard a thud then you heard her cry out and then you heard the springs of the bed. 
You didn’t even know what you were doing, only that you wanted whatever you thought was happening to stop. You frantically banged on her door, breath shaky, and you heard silence on the other side. Your fist was still in the air when B swung the door open. She was wearing Bucky’s shirt, hair in disarray, and you briefly glanced behind her, but you couldn’t see into the darkness. 
“What is it?” she sounded out of breath, voice cold, but shaky nonetheless. 
“I… Is everything okay? I thought I heard…”
You couldn’t finish your sentence, and she scoffed at you. 
“You thought you heard what?”
“I just… It sounded like you hurt yourself,” you lied, and she rolled her eyes. 
You noticed that they were red and glossy as she moved to close the door. 
“Goodnight, Y/N.” 
You stared at her door for a while, heart heavy before eventually making your way back to your room. Sleep didn’t find you much, and you spent most of the night tossing and turning. It was early in the morning, the sun still yet to rise when you just gave up. With a soft sigh, you made your way to the kitchen in search of some coffee. 
You were in the process of reaching for a mug when a figure out of the corner of your eye had you flinching. You eyed Bucky as he leaned against the door jamb, and you cursed as you almost dropped your mug. A towel was wrapped around his waist, upper body bare and still damp, a stray droplet or two sinking into the white material at his hip. 
“Didn’t see you there,” you murmured, closing the cabinet and turning away. 
He didn’t respond, and you focused on ignoring him altogether. It was hard to do when he just opted for simply staring at you. You could feel the heat of his gaze searing into your back, and you flinched when you heard him come closer. When you turned around, he was practically on top of you, arms folded over his chest, and you stumbled away, your hip hitting the counter. 
Bucky stared at you as he leaned against the other side, wet hair pushed away from his face. He didn’t say anything, preferring to gaze at you in a way that made you feel oh so naked. He tilted his head at you, pressing one hand into the counter as he stared you down, a glint in his eye that sent a rush of fear through you. 
You started to ask him what the hell he wanted, but then decided that you weren’t going to entertain him. You were just about to head back to your room when he spoke. 
“You don’t like me...do you?”
Your eyes widened a bit at his boldness, and you wondered if B had told him what you said. You immediately wrote off the thought, knowing that wasn’t like her. You cleared your throat, fingers dancing along your mug as you briefly eyed it. 
“I don’t know you,” was your simple reply. 
He hummed at that, visage unreadable. 
“And you don’t find that strange? I’ve been dating your friend for what? Over a year now, and we’re still practically strangers?” 
You didn’t know what to say, so you shrugged, giving a weak and halfhearted apology. Bucky simply narrowed his eyes at you, and you were tempted to do the same, recalling what you’d heard earlier in the evening. Dwelling on what you thought you’d heard would make your stomach churn, and you were suddenly reminded of the first night you’d met him. 
You turned to leave him in the kitchen by himself when he spoke again. 
“Keep this up, and you just might lose her for good.”
His words had you spinning around, eyes wide and lips parting. The corner of his own lips curved upwards, and Bucky took a step towards you. Then another. And another. You found yourself unable to move beneath his slowly darkening gaze. 
“I would hate for you to end up all alone…”
His words had you gasping, and you leaned away as he leaned in, his fingers reaching out to graze the wall beside your hip. He stared you down, his body heat clinging onto you as his other hand reached up to dance along the collar of your shirt. You were reminded of his state of undress, and you squirmed to get away from him, but he suddenly pressed his fingers into your hip, painfully, and you winced. 
“This world is so crazy now,” he whispered, nose brushing against yours. “The most horrible things tend to happen to women who are all alone.”
The mug in your hand fell to the floor with a crash as you shoved him away from you. You didn’t even pay it any mind, thoughts a jumbled mess as you fought to process what he’d said. You watched as he tsk’d before grabbing the drying cloth, kneeling down to clean your mess. He rested an arm on his knee, blue gaze meeting yours as he looked up at you. 
“You really should be more careful.”
For some reason, you didn’t think he was talking about your coffee, and you hurriedly stumbled away from him. Your legs were weak, hands trembling as you rushed to your room, shutting the door behind you before locking it without hesitation. 
Bucky Barnes wasn’t who B thought he was, but you were starting to realize that he wasn’t who you thought he was either. 
He was something worse. 
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“I’m so happy you changed your mind,” B sincerely told you. 
You returned her smile with one of your own, even if it was a little strained. It only took a week after your argument for you both to cave and start apologizing, meaning far too much to each other to wreck this friendship over her boyfriend. It took maybe another week or so for things to get back to how they were between you as if nothing had even happened. 
“He’s my boyfriend, not yours, and...you don’t have to like him,” she had sighed one day. “Just...don’t try and make me agree with you about him and I won’t do the same.” 
It seemed like a fair proposal, and even though you wanted to argue against it so badly, you didn’t. You had to choose your battles, and as much as you hated to admit it, Bucky was right. If you kept this up, you might lose her for good, and there was no telling what would happen to her. 
Bucky wasn’t just a sleazy and unfaithful boyfriend, but you now thought that he was genuinely dangerous. You couldn’t leave B alone with a guy like that. The thought turned your stomach, and it’s why when she brought it up again, you agreed to go on the trip with her and Bucky. She was your friend, and you had to protect her. 
She sat your suitcase on your bed as you took in the impressive suite. 
“So, Bucky and I are right next door,” she pointed to her left. “...and…”
You frowned, skeptically eyeing her as she grinned and pointed to her right. 
“Steve is on your other side.”
“Steve?”
“Yeah, you’ve heard me mention Bucky’s friend before,” she sheepishly said. 
“Yeah, mention. As in, in passing. You never mentioned anything about setting me up with him because we both know that’s what this is,” you complained, your semi good mood ruined. 
“Oh come on, Y/N. I just didn’t think you’d want to feel like a third wheel. Steve is cute and funny and nice. We both know you can do a lot with that,” she replied, wiggling her eyebrows. 
You simply sighed, resigning yourself to your fate. After all, you were already here and it wasn’t like you had much choice to do anything else. B left you with a pat on the shoulder and a giggle. 
Hours later, you were reluctant to admit that she was right. Steve was very cute and a seemingly perfect gentleman. He held the door open for you, and pulled out your chair, and complimented you until you felt heat rise to your cheeks. B seemed to be very pleased with her matchmaking skills while Bucky simply watched the two of you with a cool gaze. 
You thought that maybe he was curious to see how well his best friend operated, a guy thing you surmised, but throughout the majority of the trip, you could feel his heavy stare beating down on you and Steve. Anytime B brought up activities that would force the four of you to pair off, Bucky was quick to shut it down. Anytime you found yourself isolated with Steve, merely talking, nothing more, Bucky was there, leading his friend away with some excuse of checking out a cool shop or helping him find his favorite swim trunks. 
“Those two are like Thing 1 and Thing 2,” B had told you one afternoon as you both sat in the jacuzzi. 
The indoor pool was huge, impressive even, but you couldn’t swim and B was more than happy to lounge in the small pool of ripples. 
“If I had made us share a room and made them share a room, I fear those two wouldn’t have minded, at all,” she chuckled. 
You merely hummed, finding no humor in her justification of why Bucky just seemed to always be there. 
“So...you two hookup yet?” 
You splashed her, and she laughed. 
“How can I? We’re hardly ever alone for more than five minutes,” you told her. 
“So you do want to…”
She trailed off with a grin, and you rolled your eyes. 
“I mean, he is cute and so sweet. I figure I might as well make the best of it,” you replied with a shrug. 
She laughed again, leaning back. 
“Don’t worry. I’ll keep Bucky busy so you can get busy.”
You scrunched your nose up at her wording, but you were excited nonetheless. With everything going on with Bucky and B and the way you hated the man and his relationship with your friend, you could use a distraction. You were wound up tighter than a Jack in the Box toy, and Steve had made it more than clear that he was into you. 
It was later that night when B did exactly what she said she would. Alcohol was coursing through all of your systems, but B was drunker than all of you combined. Ever the horny drunk, it wasn’t long before she found her way into Bucky’s lap, and it took even less time for him to reluctantly pull her to her feet. 
“We’d better call it a night,” he said, holding her to him as he eyed you and Steve lounging on the pool chairs. 
The glow from the pool lights casted a blue hue over the large room, and the way it hit Bucky’s face had you shifting uncomfortably. Was it you or was he glaring at you? Steve took another swig of his beer, waving his friend off. 
“You guys go on ahead. B looks like she’s seconds away from pouncing on you,” Steve chuckled. 
“I am,” the blonde said with a pout, playfully glaring at Bucky. 
The dark-haired man merely pressed his tongue to the inside of his cheek, eyeing you both again before nodding. 
“Don’t forget to finish off these drinks. Might as well get our money’s worth,” he said over his shoulder as they both left. 
You and Steve were more than happy to do just that, and it wasn’t long before you found his lips on yours, his hand pressing into the small of your back as you hooked a leg over his waist. You hadn’t realized how long it had been, and you mewled against the blond’s mouth as he ground himself into you. 
This was exactly what you needed. You needed to forget how much of a creep your roommate’s boyfriend was and how much he terrified you. You needed to forget his predatory gaze and harsh touch. You needed to forget how much you hated him, how much you just wanted him to go away already. You needed to forget that the only reason you were even on this trip was to protect B. From what? You still weren’t sure. You needed...you needed...you needed…
To throw up. 
You pulled away from Steve as a bout of nausea hit you. You pressed your hand to your mouth, swallowing it down, and Steve’s hand was there at your back. 
“Woah, woah. You okay?”
You started to tell him yes, that you only needed a moment, rushing to stand when the room suddenly spun. Steve’s worried voice filled your ears as he caught you, and your legs shook. Confusion tore through you, recalling that you hadn’t had that much to drink to be this drunk. 
“Okay, I think you’d better call it a night too,” Steve advised, guiding you out of the pool. 
You shook your head, prepared to tell him that you were fine and still wanted to have sex. How could you not? The man was built like something out of your dreams. However, ever the gentleman, Steve simply hushed you, telling you that he was taking you back to your room. Your words came out slurred anyway, and that only made your confusion grow. 
You hadn’t drank that much...had you?
Steve had a harder time getting you to your room than he thought. You kept trying to drag him back to his, insisting that you were fine, but some rational part of you knew that you were not. Your words were too jumbled, eyes too unfocused, and you could barely stand. 
Something wasn’t right. 
“Steve…?”
The voice sounded far away, but there was a familiarity to it that had you cringing. 
Bucky. 
“Hey, she… I don’t know. One minute she was fine, and then it just seemed to hit her all at once. I can’t… Not while she’s like this.” 
Part of you loved how gentlemanly Steve was being. Another part of you hated it, hating it even more how he talked about you like you weren’t there. You heard Bucky sigh, and you frowned. 
“Go on to bed, man. I’ll make sure she gets in her room,” you heard him say. 
You wanted to protest, but all that escaped was a few mumbles. You could feel a new set of hands on you, the old ones leaving, and a door clicked shut just as the room spun again. You shifted, your whole perspective shifting with you, and when you peeled your eyes open again, the ceiling stared down at you. 
That was the last thing you remembered. 
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When you woke up, it was well into the evening of the next day and you were alone. This was shocking to you for two reasons. Not only had you never slept that long in your life, even with the worst of hangovers, but you distinctly remembered being determined to have sex with Steve. 
And while it certainly seemed like you did, bottom half sore and protesting, bikini top askew, he was nowhere to be found. He didn’t seem like that type, and as you glanced around, it didn’t seem like he’d ever been in here, at all. You winced as you sat up, wincing even more as you moved across the bed. 
Your legs ached, like you’d just run a marathon and every time you moved, your core protested. You winced as you moved into the bathroom and was relieved to find nothing out of the ordinary. Maybe you just had a rough night. After all, it wouldn’t be the first time you’d taken a drunken tumble. You’d have to ask B what happened. 
As you peeled off your bathing suit, preparing to step into the shower, you couldn’t help but to frown at yourself in the mirror. You ran your eyes over your frame, convinced that something just seemed...off. Unable to figure out what it was, you shook your head and stepped under the spray of water. 
Your body felt better the more it stayed under the hot water. The heat and steam really did wonders for your aching frame, but as you brushed the complimentary white wash cloth between your legs, you jumped at the pain that shot through you. When you pulled it away, your heart dropped at the blood you saw there. Your period was regular, always had been, so you knew it wasn’t that. Even if you wanted to believe that, and you so desperately did, the ache in your core suggested otherwise. 
It wasn’t a lot of blood, just enough to worry you, and you were quick to finish up your shower and get dressed. It wasn’t hard to find them. They were lounging by the outside pool, laughing with each other under the shade of an umbrella. 
“Well, look who decided to join us! How’d you sleep, Sleeping Beauty?”
B’s voice was teasing, and you threw her a strained smile. It was clear she thought you’d finally had sex with Steve, if her teasing smile was anything to go by, and you shakily returned it. 
“Like a baby,” you replied, eyes finding Steve’s. 
You didn’t miss the way Bucky had turned his head. He was wearing shades, but you felt like he was looking straight into you. 
“Steve, can I talk to you for a minute?”
He raised his eyebrows, a little surprised, but eager to nonetheless. 
“Of course.”
He rose, following you as you walked away, B’s voice fading as she prattled to Bucky about something or another. 
“Did we…?”
You spoke as soon as you were somewhat secluded, trailing off as you eyed him, crossing your arms over your chest. He understood what you were getting at, and his eyes widened, shaking his head. 
“Oh, no. God, no,” he chuckled. “You were so out of it last night it just… I wouldn’t have felt right.”
He was telling the truth. That much you could tell, and your frown only deepened. You accepted his words with a nod and a sigh. 
“...but it certainly wasn’t without lack of trying on your part. I was trying to be a gentleman, but you just weren’t having it,” he laughed to himself. “Don’t worry though. Bucky made sure you got back to your room.”
His words froze you, your body going numb as you snapped your head towards his. 
“...what…?”
“Yeah, well, you were really drunk, you know. He must have heard us and came to see if everything was alright. He let me go to bed while he took you back to your room. You got there safely, right?” 
You could only dumbly nod at him, and Steve grinned, placing his hand on your upper back as he guided you back to B and Bucky. Laughter filled your ears as he joined in on the conversation, but you could only shakily sit, staring ahead of you with a frown. 
No. 
No way. 
Your heart was racing, threatening to leap from your chest, and your palms had grown sweaty. You were having an internal war. That rational part of your brain, the same part that had been arguing against your feelings about Bucky since day one was screaming at you. It was telling you that you were being silly, reading too much into this, trying to latch onto any reason to hate this man. To justify your feelings. 
However, a bigger part was whispering to get out. It was the same part that created the nausea whenever he was near. It was the same part that told you he was scum long before you saw him with that girl that night. It was the same part that told you he was bad for B, even convincing you that he had hurt her. It was the same part that made your skin prick whenever his unnerving gaze found its way onto you...like now. 
You glanced up to find B laughing with Steve about something. Bucky was on her other side, his arm lazily thrown over her shoulder, and while he seemed to be listening to what they were saying, you couldn’t shake the feeling that his blue eyes were trained on you behind those dark shades. You swallowed, and just then, the corner of his mouth curved upwards into a mocking smirk. 
There it was again. You felt like there was some joke here that you weren’t in on, and you shuddered. Unable to stomach being here anymore, you slipped away with the excuse of needing to use the bathroom. You didn’t return. Instead, you spent the rest of the evening sitting in the chair in your hotel room, knees pulled to your chest as you simply stared at your bed. You frowned at it, as if trying to will it to tell you the truth. To ease your fears...or confirm them. 
You couldn’t stomach the thought of sleeping there, and it was late into the night when you made your way to the pool. You didn’t get in obviously, but you sat on the side, feet and lower legs beneath the water as you stared into the clear blue. 
There had to be some other explanation. There had to be something more rational, something that was easier to swallow, but you just couldn’t shake what your gut was telling you. You blinked back tears as you stared into the water, and you felt like you were going insane. Footsteps got your attention, and you looked up...only for your face to fall. 
You hurriedly stood as Bucky came into the room, the door closing behind him. There was that mocking smirk again, and you crossed your arms over your chest, glaring at him with so much venom, it was a wonder he didn’t flinch. But why would he? Men like him hardly feared anything. 
You spoke before he had a chance to, the words tumbling out of your mouth before you realized it. 
“What did you do to me?”
He didn’t seem taken aback or offended at all by what you said. Instead, he simply stared at you, one dark eyebrow lifting as he waited for you to elaborate. You licked your lips, taking a deep breath. 
“Steve said that you were the one to make sure I got to my room safely last night. I don’t remember anything, and when I woke up…”
You trailed off, unable to voice what you really wanted to say. His lips twitched, and you wanted to hit him. 
“When you woke up...what…?”
“You did something to me,” you accused him. 
“Prove it,” he spat. 
You blinked back tears, tears of frustration and anger and sadness all rolled into one. 
“Don’t- do not do that! Do not make it seem as if I’m crazy, like I don’t know what I’m talking about. I see right through you, you know. I know what you really are and what you’re really like, and I know that you did something-.”
“What did I do?”
He’d moved towards you so suddenly that you had stumbled back, almost tripping over your feet just to get away from him. You warily eyed the pool as you took another step back, and Bucky didn’t stop until his chest grazed yours. His hands were folded behind his back as he looked down his nose at you, slowly dragging his gaze from your face all the way down to your toes and back again. 
“Go on,” he encouraged, a lecherous grin on his lips and a mocking glint in his blue eyes. “Tell me what I did.”
Your breathing was shallow, chest heaving as you stared at him with wide eyes. He tilted his head at you, looking at you like you were some misbehaving child. 
“Come on, Y/N,” he dragged your name out, the first time you’d ever heard him say it, the sound making your blood run cold. “Tell me what I did to you.” 
His voice was low, heavy, almost like he was begging you, and you shook your head, taking another step back, but he followed. 
“Let me guess… You think I carried you into your room and locked the door behind me. At this point, you would’ve been unconscious, so I had to put you on your bed…”
His words made your skin crawl, and it was obvious as to why, but something else in his tone wrapped around your neck like a noose, and your stomach twisted. 
“Do you think I...admired your prone form, none the wiser to what was going through my head? What I planned to do? You probably think I crawled over you huh? Trailing my fingers and lips over your damp skin-.”
“Stop.”
“Or maybe you think I went beyond that. Maybe I hooked my finger into your bikini bottoms, pulling them to the side before leaning down to get a taste of you. Perhaps, I forced a finger inside of you, followed by another and another-.”
“Bucky-!”
“I would have to stretch you out for what I planned to do. After all, I’d want you to take my cock so well.”
There were tears streaming down your face now, and Bucky smiled at you, teasing and secretive as he takes another step towards you. 
“...and maybe you do. Maybe you stretch for me just right, sucking me in and twitching in your sleep until-.”
Your hand stung from the force behind the slap, but you didn’t care. You could hardly breathe, looking at him with wide and tearful eyes. He didn’t seem all that fazed by it, merely adjusting his jaw as his eyes met yours again. He shrugged before chuckling to himself. 
“Maybe that’s what you think happened.” 
“You were right,” you suddenly said, and he looked at you curiously. “I don’t like you. I never did. In fact, I hate you.” 
He simply hummed at that. 
“I know the kind of person you really are. You’re only going to hurt her. You know it, and I know it, but somehow you have got her twisted around your toxic little finger, and she won’t listen to a word I say.”
His eyes flashed, and you glared at him. 
“The day will come where she sees you for what you really are, and I’ll be more than happy to help her set all of your things on fire. Maybe you with them,” you threatened. 
Bucky simply straightened to his full height, gazing at you with a look you couldn’t place. He fully took you in, seeming to size you up before softly laughing to himself. His hand was suddenly on you, and you were falling into the pool. 
Your scream was swallowed by the water, and thankfully your hands caught onto the side as you fell in. You struggled to get a grip, fighting to pull yourself up when his hand was there on the top of your head, pushing you back down. You flailed, losing your grip, and you furiously fought as you drifted to the bottom. 
Water filled your lungs, and your eyes burned. From tears or the chlorine, you didn’t know. You could tell that the water was disturbed, and against your better judgment, you fought against the hands that grabbed you. Bucky pulled you to the surface with him, holding you against him as he swam to the edge. Your coughs were ugly, struggling to get water out and air in as he pinned you between him and the wall. 
“I’m the only thing holding you up, doll, so I’d be careful about how I proceed if I were you,” he murmured. 
It took you a minute to realize what was happening, but you jerked in his hold as his fingers brushed over your folds. You hadn’t even felt him slip them past your bottoms. You flailed your legs, pushing against the wall, but he only closed in more, forcing a finger inside of you as his lips met your neck. 
“Relax,” he purred, adding another before curling them inside of your walls. 
You were frantic, panicking as you fought to get away from him. You didn’t care if you drowned. His lips were at your ear, shushing you as he continued to move his fingers, grinding against you and forcing you to perfectly move over the hardening heat you felt below you. 
Part of you was in shock, unable to scream as the reality of the situation, of what he was, truly dawned on you. You were just so focused on getting away, digging your nails into his arms, kicking your feet, pushing against him. However, you finally let out a sharp scream when his hand pulled away from you, pulling at your bottoms instead. You felt him fumbling behind you, and then you felt it. Warm and hard and poking at your folds. 
The water splashed as you flailed, and Bucky shushed you, pressing a hand to your mouth while the other slid the tip of him along your entrance. You were screaming against his hand, tears collecting there as you struggled to get from between him and the wall. Just when you felt the tip of him slip inside, just when you thought you were going to vomit all over this pool, he suddenly froze. 
You didn’t understand what was happening, but all of a sudden, he righted himself and you, and proceeded to push you up and out of the pool. Just as B strode inside. You were trembling as you landed on the floor, eyes wide and blurry as you struggled to stand. 
“Oh my God! Y/N, did you fall in?” her worried voice reached you, and Bucky answered before you could. 
“Yeah, she slipped,” he said, pulling himself out behind you. “She’s alright though.” 
B had just reached you as you turned and shoved him back into the water. You heard her exclaim, but you paid it no mind as you furiously grabbed your towel and your shoes, hurrying out of the room. 
You could hear her hurried steps behind you. You could hear her calling your name, worry and confusion coloring her tone. You flew inside of your room as soon as you reached it, slamming the door open. You didn’t bother to close it properly as you headed straight for your suitcase. 
“Y/N, what the hell?” 
B had followed you inside, shutting the door behind her. 
“What the fuck is your problem? Why did you do that? He kind of just saved your life.”
“No, he didn’t,” you spat at her so viciously that she actually reared back. 
As some of her anger dissipated, she finally seemed to focus on what you were doing. B’s face fell, eyes dimming as she swallowed. 
“What are you doing?” 
“What does it look like? I’m leaving.”
“What? Why?”
“Because your boyfriend is a creep!”
Her eyes widened, and she blinked. You could see a frown forming, could see the anger that was brewing behind her eyes, and you continued. 
“Don’t even start with me, B. He’s dangerous and disgusting and I want nothing to do with him,” you sneered, throwing the rest of your things into your suitcase. 
“What…? What happened?”
Her voice was small, weak and confused and sad, and you almost took pity on her. You almost stopped packing and decided to stay, but then you remembered the feel of his fingers inside of you, the way he almost forced himself inside of you. You recalled the way he held you down below the water and his harsh breath in your ear. 
You shook your head, looking at her. 
“If I told you, you wouldn’t even believe me, so what’s the point?”
She started to protest, and you cut her off. 
“I’m leaving, B. I’m taking the first flight out of here and that’s that.” 
You didn’t say anything more, neither did she, and she knew that when your mind was made up about something, that was the end of it. You could tell that she wanted to say something else, and part of you did too, but you were at the end of your rope. Bucky had gotten what he wanted. He’d broken you, and you didn’t have the heart to tell her that you’d be packing up your things as soon as you got home. 
You kept it to yourself and only sighed as she closed the door behind her on her way out.
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You looked up from your place on the floor as B lingered in the doorway. Your eyes met hers, and while the silence was short, it was no less awkward and tense. It had been that way for weeks...ever since the trip. 
She had come home days after you did, a number of things on her tongue no doubt, when she had stopped short at the sight of you in the kitchen, putting your mugs and other dishes into a box. She hadn’t said anything, neither did you, but you winced all the same when she stomped away, her door slamming shut behind her. 
The two of you hadn’t really talked since then, and you hadn’t seen Bucky since that night in the pool. You kept to your room mostly, only really leaving for work when you knew they both were either asleep or gone. A cloud hung over your once lively apartment now, and there was only one person to blame. 
The thought of Bucky made you ill. Literally. The first night you had been back, you had thought back to the pool, and before you knew it, your head was in the toilet. You had never cried so hard in your life, and it only just hit you then how close he’d been to… You shook those thoughts away, blinking at B as she shuffled on her feet. 
“Hey, um… So my aunt kind of had a stroke…”
Your heart sank, worry filling you. 
“Is she…?”
“She’s fine,” she nodded. “My mom though...she’s trying to put up a front, but I know that she’s really worried. I figured I’d head up there for a few days.” 
“Oh...okay.” 
You didn’t really know what else to say, and B sighed. 
“Please, don’t go,” she whispered. 
“B,” you huffed, feeling everything start to bubble up inside of you. 
The anger, the irritation, the fear, the disgust. You hated Bucky. You hated him so much and you were so angry and disgusted with him, but a part of you, a part of you that you didn’t want to acknowledge...was angry with B too. Why couldn’t she listen to you? Why couldn’t she just open her eyes and see him for what he was? Why? Why was she so…? 
“Is it really that serious? Can’t you just-?”
“Yes, it is that serious, B!”
She seemed shocked by your anger, and you couldn’t swallow it down anymore. 
“He is not a good guy. I’ve told you that more than once, but I’m done! I don’t feel safe around him-.”
“It’s Bucky-!”
“Don’t do that!”
Your voice was so loud it echoed throughout the apartment. B looked stricken, and you felt your eyes watering as you huffed. You were standing now, arms folded over your chest as you glared at her. 
“Do not do that. My feelings are my own, and they’re valid. You can’t dismiss what I feel and what I’ve experienced for myself just because you like the way his dick feels.”
She looked like she wanted to say something, face twisting, but you continued. 
“I went on that trip for you. I have stuck around and put up with him for you...because you’re my friend and I just want you to be okay, but…”
You swallowed, glancing away. 
“I can’t help someone who doesn’t want to be helped. Especially at the expense of my own safety.” 
Your voice was quiet...tired. Defeated. 
“Y/N…”
“Is that what you want? You want me to stick around knowing I don’t feel safe as long as he’s around? That I don’t feel comfortable in my own house? Is that really what you want?”
She eventually shook her head, face sullen and lips pressed together. It was a shame, really, that the two of you had ended up here. B had been right that day in the cafe. She had easily become one of your closest friends, and now she was letting some pretty face cloud her of what was standing right in front of her. 
“For your sake, I hope he does become someone better than who he is now...but I can’t stick around to find out,” you whispered, and she called your name, but you ignored her. “Have a good trip. I mean that and...I hope your aunt gets better.” 
You didn’t say anything more, turning to finish packing, and eventually, you heard her leave.
You spent the rest of the day packing, crashing on your bed well into the night. You didn’t sleep much, tossing and turning, harshly pulled from sleep every time you remembered the feel of firm and searching hands on your body. Eventually, you gave up altogether and pulled yourself from your bed to start the process all over again.
Sometimes you had to stop and wonder if you were going about this in the right way. B was your friend...you should want to protect her...but at what point do you finally put your own safety over hers? Especially when she flat out refused to even just see the danger? You considered telling her what happened so many times. It was always there on the tip of your tongue whenever the house was a tad too quiet, the ocean of silence between you two just a little too tense. You wanted to tell her that her boyfriend was a predator, an attempted rapist...maybe even just a rapist.
The words that he’d said to you at the pool were on a constant loop in your mind. He’d said them in a way that suggested he was joking, a demented sense of humor, but you couldn’t shake the feeling that he hadn’t been. It reminded you of that first night you’d met him, when he’d ‘joked’ about B being unconscious before she even hit the door. Back then, something in you had told you that he wasn’t joking, but B had eased your worries. She’d confirmed that he was, but who was here to confirm it now?
God, what if you really had stared your rapist in the face as he recounted what he did to you? Even he wasn’t that depraved...was he? You were sure that you would drive yourself insane thinking about it, and so, like you had done for weeks, you pushed the thoughts away. You still had clothes to wash and dry, not wanting to when you drove home. Your mom had been worried to hear you ask to come home for a while until you found a new place, the change so sudden, but you assured her that everything was fine.
You and B shared a hamper in the laundry room, and you sighed. You figured it was petty to only wash your own. After all, you weren’t actually mad at B...just frustrated. When the load was done, and the dryer finally chimed, and you took them out and separated them. She had way more than you, and her clothes warmed your body as you carried them to her room. Dumping them on the bed, you proceeded to fold them, placing each article next to her pillow so that she wouldn’t miss them.
Out of nowhere, your body shuddered, body hair standing on end as goosebumps broke out over your arm. The a/c had just kicked in, and you were grateful because you were starting to get a little warm. When you folded her last shirt, a picture frame on her nightstand caught your attention. You quietly approached it, looking down at the familiar photo with a soft sigh. You both had taken it during a weekend trip to the beach. It seemed like a lifetime ago, and dismissing the memory, you turned around.
You froze, blood turning to ice as your eyes met familiar blue ones. He was leaning against the doorway, face unreadable as he stared at you, and you thought to yourself that you hadn’t even heard him come in. Your eyes fell to the set of keys in his hand as he swung them back and forth, as if mocking you. Disgust rolled inside of you, and you avoided his eye as you made to move past him.
Bucky took a step to the side, blocking your path, and you glared up at him with wide eyes. You hadn’t seen him since that night, you’d had no plans to, and yet here he was, forcing his presence on you again. You had thought that he was going with B. You had hoped…
“This is all your fault, you know,” he murmured, finally speaking.
You couldn’t prevent your face from twisting, brows furrowing and eyes narrowing as you shook your head at him.
“Excuse me?”
He took a step forward, forcing you back, and your heart skipped a beat, remembering the last time you were alone with him.
“I only stuck around because of you…”
His voice was low, and deep, and you blinked. Confusion and apprehension tore through you, his words not making any sense. He pursed his lips, looking around the room with a hum.
“B is...she’s great and all, but it was never supposed to be anything more than a nice fuck. A sweet release for the night…”
His words made your jaw clench, and you had half a mind to choke him for how he spoke about your friend. He continued before you could.
“...but then…”
His voice rose, tone taking on a mirthful lilt as he dragged out the last word.
“...I ran into you,” he quietly said, tilting his head at you. “...and you were just so protective over this woman who meant nothing to me.”
Your lips parted, opening and closing as you fought to understand anything.
“You knew what I did that night.”
His eyes were locked onto yours, and you halted, feeling like a bucket of ice water had been dropped onto you. The truth was now staring you dead in the face, and your lip curled as he confirmed what you had long suspected.
“You knew what I did to her, even after I had convinced you otherwise...even after she did, some part of you always suspected.”
“You unimaginable-.”
“But the real treat was that you had been willing to fight me because of it. Oh, I don't think I’d ever seen anyone round on me that fast before,” he purred, taking another step towards you, eyes gleaming. “You were prepared to kick my ass.”
“I knew it,” you shakily spat.
“You wouldn’t have won, of course,” he offhandedly commented. “I would’ve had you on your back in no time.”
You swung at him, blinded by an unfamiliar hot fury. He caught your wrist, hand tight on you, and you winced. He yanked you closer, breathing you in as he ran his eyes over you. He forced you back, and you dug your feet into the floor, fighting to get out of his grip.
“I started to take you right then and there. It would’ve been easy, like breathing, but something in you made me want to play the long game. I wanted to torture you...slowly…”
“Let go of me,” you screamed, your other hand connecting with his jaw.
It barely affected him, and he snatched your other wrist with ease.
“It was a good run, the most fun I’d had in years. You never let up, not once, and there were a few times where I genuinely worried you’d just stab me in my sleep and be done with it,” he hummed, forcing you back.
You jerked against him, trying in vain to pull your wrists out of his hands, but it was no use. His hold was locked, preventing you from getting away, and you felt your breathing pick up. All of the humor and teasing and secretive smiles were suddenly gone. His face fell, and he roughly shoved you away from him. You bounced on B’s bed, hurrying to sit up, but he was standing over you, shoving you back down again.
You hit against him as his hands landed on your t-shirt, tearing at the fabric, and you grabbed his hands, bending his fingers. Bucky hissed, ripping a hand away before placing it on your throat, and you painfully gasped. He pressed himself against you, a smirk crawling onto his lips as he brushed his nose along your own.
“I told you...I’d have you on your back in no time,” he whispered.
You couldn’t speak, throat tight and chest burning. He suddenly paused, tilting his head as his smirk grew. He glanced away before his eyes found yours again, something swirling there that created a sinking feeling in your gut.
“I almost forgot,” he started, sucking in a breath. “I already did.”
His words paralyzed you, and you halted all movement, staring up at him in horror. Your lips trembled, eyes watering as the truth about that night was thrown into your face. He looked more than pleased with himself, and you couldn’t hold back the sob that escaped you.
“You’ll have to forgive me,” he murmured, reaching up with his other hand to trail a finger down the side of your face. “I just couldn’t help myself. I figured I was owed just a small taste of my prize.”
Your struggle was anew before he even finished, harsh choking sounds escaping you as you fought against him. He was undeterred.
“I got you right where I want you, and no one is around to stop me. Now, I don’t have to drug you to fuck you,” he growled, leaning in, and you maneuvered your legs between his. “Now, you’re mine, and I’m going to spread these legs just like I did that night.”
He exclaimed when you brought your legs up, and you painfully gasped, vision blurring as air rushed back into your lungs. You rolled and shakily moved away from him, desperate to get away when his hand wrapped around your ankle. He yanked on it, forcing you to collapse, and you screamed as he crawled over you, quickly muffling the sound by pressing your face into the bed.
You struggled to breathe, you struggled to move, you struggled to get away. He held you in place with a hand on the back of your head, and while you frantically tried to get it off, not suffocating being your first priority, he was occupied with ripping what was left of your shirt off of you. Your sweatpants soon followed, and your hot tears soaked the bed as his hand found its way between your legs. He made a sound of disappointment at the dryness that met him there.
You squealed into the mattress as his fingers dipped between your legs again, wet this time, and your nails scraped along the bedding as he forced them inside of you. He groaned as he thrust them inside of you, massaging your walls and forcing your body to prepare for him. It was getting harder and harder to breathe, and part of you suspected that this was how you’d die. At the hands of this monster who had slithered his way into your lives.
Relief filled you when he let your head go, and you lifted it, sucking in air with difficulty. Your relief was short lived, a yelp tumbling from your lips as the head of his cock broke past your folds, quickly followed by the rest, and a pained whine escaped you as his hips connected with you at last. Bucky released a shuddering breath above you, hands dancing down your sides as he hummed, burying his face in the crook of your neck while you sobbed beneath him.
“Just as tight as I remembered,” he murmured.
You didn’t have time to cringe at his words. The palms of his hand pressed into the mattress on either side of your head, holding himself up as he began to thrust into you. The bed shook under the force of his thrusts, and your chest heaved with every choked sob that left you. Bucky paid you no mind, too blissfully engrossed with the way you clenched around him.
You tried to push yourself up, but every snap of his hips had you falling back down. You tried to crawl away, but he only followed, his unrelenting cock seeking you out. You could hardly hear anything over the sound of your own sobs, but you could do nothing to shut out the sound of Bucky’s deep grunts. You couldn’t ignore the sound of his skin slapping against yours as he fucked you.
“Please, please,” you cried, not above begging him to let you go.
Eventually, he got fed up with your attempts, forcing his knees between your thighs. He spread them, making you cry out, and he pressed his hands into the small of your back. He moaned at the new angle, and you shuddered, feeling every inch of him now.
The tears never stopped, and you simply hung your head, nails scraping along the bedding as you silently pleaded for him to stop. You just wanted this to be over. You wanted this to be over, and you wanted to be far away from him. He spread your legs even more, forcing a noise of protest out of you at the feel of the strain, and fresh tears escaped as you felt his lips on your shoulder. Then they moved to your neck, his deep breaths filling your ear.
“You were well worth the wait,” he murmured.
His words stroked that anger inside of you, and you brought your head back, satisfaction blooming when it connected with his face. He only chuckled in response, and you gasped when he pulled out of you. You were quick to move, attempting to fling yourself off of the bed, but his hands on your hips prevented you from doing so. He flipped you over, and your tearful eyes fell onto him.
His dark hair was in disarray, muscles shifting as he forced you into whatever position he deemed fit. You fought against him as he pushed your knees towards you, but the position he forced you into made it difficult to do so. He settled himself over you, his chest pressed against your bent legs, making your knees touch your chest, and you had no choice but to accept the way he slid inside of you.
Your walls protested, hands hitting against the bed, another sob climbing out of your throat when he closed his hand over your mouth. He slammed himself against you, balls brushing against your skin with every thrust. His other hand pressed your wrist into the bed, and you felt like you were surrounded by him. All you could feel, hear, and smell was him. The way he stretched you was bordering on painful, and you just wanted to be anywhere but here.
You lost track of how long he fucked you, face sticky and dry from your tears, throat raw from screaming. No one could hear you, Bucky’s hand making sure of that, but you felt you owed it to yourself to try. Anytime you even looked like you were drifting off, mind determined to get as far away from this scene as possible, Bucky would give a particularly hard thrust, forcing you back to the present, and the tears would start all over again.
When you heard his breath hitch, you knew that the end was near. Both relief and fear filled you because what then? What awaited you when this was over? How could you even try to move on from this? Bucky shifted again, letting your legs fall around him, letting go of your hand. He seemed to anticipate that you were still going to fight, and as you reached for him, he snatched both of your wrists up in his free hand, holding them against your stomach as he chased his high. He seemed to be holding himself off, and for the life of you, you couldn’t figure out why. 
Until he let go of your mouth, hand drifting to where he slid into you.
“No,” you cried out, moving to break free only to jerk when he rubbed his thumb over you.
You gasped, legs kicking around him, determined to stop him. You couldn’t let him take this from you either, you couldn’t let him force you to enjoy this, but he seemed bent on doing just that.
“Come on, doll. Don’t fight it,” he purred.
“Stop, stop,” you screamed, fighting against that tightening in your gut. “Stop-!”
“Oh, there she is. That’s it…”
You had clenched around him, walls involuntarily fluttering as he all but threw you towards the edge.
“Stop, please-.”
Your voice hitched, something snapping within you as your mouth parted, no sound coming out. You could hear Bucky swear over that roaring in your ear as you spasmed beneath him.
“Fuck, that’s it. Milk me, doll. Look at you,” he breathed.
You faintly noted a warmth filling you, coating your walls as he came inside of you, a satisfied sigh escaping him as you continued to flutter around him. You cried as you came down from your high, and Bucky’s hand found your face. You wouldn’t look at him. You were too terrified, and you just wanted him to go away so you’d never have to see him again.
“Your mom has a nice place…”
Your stomach dropped, and you looked at him with wide eyes. He pressed his other hand into the mattress beside your head, holding himself over you. You were too frozen with fear and horror to notice that he’d even let you go. A hungry smile curved along his lips, and he dragged his eyes over your naked and sweaty form.
“...I’m glad Steve just bought the one across the street.”
He leaned in, lips brushing along your ear.
“It makes it easy to come see you while you look for a place of your own. I look forward to the house tour.”
~
tags: @mcudarklibrary​   @xoxabs88xox @harryspet @readermia @opheliadawnwalker3 @nickyl316h @captainchrisstan @sebabestianstan101 @villanellevi @lokislastlove @notyourtypicalrose @coconutqueen21 @hurricanerin @trinittyy @hyoyeoniie @cocoamoonmalfoy @mandiiblanche @gotnofucks @oneoftheprettynerds @doozywoozy @sapphirescrolls @threeminutesoflife @searchforanotherway @melli0112 @buckybarnesplumwhore​ 
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bvccy · 2 days ago
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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
152 notes · View notes
overwhelmedsupernova · 3 days ago
What about a dark! violent bucky that wants reader to be his girlfriend? But things just don't go well, if you know what I mean 😈
Just Love Me
╔═══*.·:·.☽✧ ✦ ✧☾.·:·.*═══╗
First off, thank you for your request! I also want to say that requests are open, even though it might take some time for them, but it makes me happy! Anyway, here you go!
Summary: reader tries to tell Bucky he's just not the boy she loves. And that hurts, a lot... for both.
Words: 2667.
Warnings: violence descriptions, verbal violence, implied noncon, ripped clothing, anxiety, lot of angst, maybe reader being a little bit naive, past implied somnophilia, language. Only +18, minors do not read. If you do not feel safe with this, please don't read.
I appreciate a lot feedbacks, so please tell my what you think about this, reblog or like. <3 Also, thank you so much for 150 followers. I'm happy with that, it makes me happy that people enjoy my writing! <3.
╚═══*.·:·.☽✧ ✦ ✧☾.·:·.*═══╝
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It was all that simple. You worked at Stark Industries as a simple worker, no big deal, but you also met the avengers from time to time. You had noticed early on that the newcomer, whose name was Bucky, seemed completely out of place. It probably wasn't like that in the eyes of others, especially those of his best friend, Steve: the weeks went by, but you didn't think his situation was improving. He had terrible dark circles and you knew what it was like to have a bad period, although judging from what he had been through and what you read in the papers, his was much more than a bad or long period. It was a whole life wasted, or rather, spent being someone else.
He must have been terrible, and no matter how terrible he had done, you basically couldn't feel the same contempt or terror that others did. If you had gone back in time, you probably would have slapped yourself on the head before allowing you to shyly approach him with a coffee. It was there that it all began.
And it was so beautiful. You didn't see Bucky at all as a lover or someone who could stand by your side like that, but it melted your heart to know how your friendship was slowly bringing him to the surface and getting some oxygen. You were so happy about it, he deserved it. And Bucky on the other hand, was amazed: he didn't think he'd ever get a second chance. Because that was what it was in his eyes, a second chance for him, a new life with you.
He tried to make you understand by bringing you your favorite hot drink every morning at work, or by specifically choosing movies at the cinema to make you relax a little and get away from all the stress that was gripping you: for him they were all dates, and it seemed to confirm the way in which you dressed. God, you were so pretty, so gorgeous in that dress of yours. It had that color that simply gave you and made your skin stand out even more, and especially that look of yours.
Bucky simply loved your eyes, he loved that purity and at the same time the awareness of an established career woman moving forward. You were admirable, and Bucky grew more and more impatient with it. But he still remembered how to treat girls, he had never really forgotten: he simply thought that all that repertoire of niceties and compliments would no longer serve him. This has changed, and all with you.
It was the turn of the cinema on Friday night, and you brought a new dress. A few weeks earlier you had even confronted him before buying it: it was a choice between a more classic dress, with narrow straps that made your shoulders and breasts stand out a lot, and a simple red dress that is wider and longer. Bucky recommended the first one, pointing out how it makes your shapes perfect. That was his first flirting gamble, what you had actually mistaken for a simple game. And that was one of your many mistakes with Bucky Barnes.
You happily smiled at him as you paid for your share of popcorn and soda, at which he frowned slightly. You shouldn't have paid at all, in fact he would have even preferred you to stop working: your job was exaggeratedly stressful for a beautiful lady like you. Bucky didn't like it, but then a thought flashed through his head and he suddenly calmed down. After all, there was still little. Only a little and you would have been officially his after all this series of dates. Not that Bucky didn't love them, oh at all, but... he wanted something more. He wanted to feel you under him, he wanted to hear the same low moans you made while touching yourself, the same ones he heard when he stood outside the window watching you. He wanted to taste you best when awake, and not asleep from sleeping pills. He wanted to do so many things to that beautiful body of yours.
"Here we go?" you asked shyly, and then follow him like a puppy to the right room of the cinema. You found that funny and beautiful movie. Bucky didn't care, he thought he already had the best movie of his life right in front of him, and it was your beautiful sight. You had captured his heart, and now he would have captured you.
You got sick for some reason that night and Bucky insistently offered to stay home with you. You didn't find this necessary at all, but having your best friend make you hot tea to relieve the pain was always better than being alone in your bed and moaning in pain, wasn't it? That was how it all began.
"Listen, I should... uhm... talk to you." Bucky murmured in embarrassment shortly after you took a sip from your cup. You were already feeling those cramps getting milder and in that moment you mentally thanked him for the idea of ​​tea, but all your gratitude was then replaced by curiosity. Bucky hardly ever had any news.
Your gaze suddenly brightened, and you immediately set your shoulders straight, almost as if at attention. Bucky liked that movement, but only because it still accentuated your cleavage. God, you were such a mockery of him. But he couldn't get excited, no, he was declaring himself. Finally. But he was convinced that everything would be fine.
"I have a person who, well, is always in my head. I always think about her, and I would like to find a way to-"
"Who is she?" you asked almost screaming with excitement and climbing over the table, then calmed down and sat down. You giggled softly and your face burned with embarrassment, but it was fucking news! Did Bucky like anyone? How long had he been hiding it from you? Your mind was traveling through so many of those frontiers, that you forgot how naive you really could be at times.
"That's the point." Bucky said, slightly irritated. He wanted to make a speech about how he found you gorgeous when you shyly offered him that coffee, about how you helped him get his life back. About how he wanted to make you his wife. But it didn't matter, the emotion on your face made him so happy. You also knew deep down.
You slowly stopped giggling, watching his face turn more and more into a joyful one. There, you heard an alarm bell. You felt a knot in your stomach and suddenly his throat went dry, despite all the tea he had drunk. Bucky noticed the look on your face, and that's when the first red flag went up.
In short, it was not possible. He lived for you, fuck, he would kill for you. It was not possible that you did not love him. You had to love him, he wanted you so much. No, maybe you had been making fun of him all this time? Oh, it wasn't possible. You were so sweet, caring, sensitive. He knew you through and through, except for your body, although there would be time for that.
You slowly got up, still feeling that knot that was now upsetting you more and more and your happy expression has definitely fallen. "Bucky... who is she?" you asked again, one last safe place. That you would never have achieved.
"It is you." he simply murmured. It was as if that knot had suddenly burst, releasing an extraordinary amount of anxiety in your veins that went straight to your brain. You swallowed loudly, trying to keep the situation under control. Where did you go wrong? Were you wrong?
"Bucky..." you muttered softly, trying to reason. That move was completely wrong and Bucky didn't want to hear from you. He wasn't right anymore, he had already made his choice of him a long time ago. You got up from your chair and tried to start a speech that was worth it, that didn't hurt.
"Sit down."
You immediately fell silent at his tone. It was stiff, severe, icy. For the first time in your life, you were afraid. Fear of him, fear of your own home, of those eyes that not even an hour ago were looking at you so sweetly. Now they were completely aggressive and his jaw was stiff with anger.
With a slight shake in your hands, you slowly tried to sit down. You also briefly thought about running for the door, but you had to calm that anxiety. It was that and nothing more, while Bucky was Bucky. There was no way he was going to hurt you.
"Look, I'm sorry but I... I don't feel this for you. I love you, but how I love a friend. Bucky, you really are a special person and I'm sure you'll find someone, but it's not me." you soon realized how these words had pierced him like ice blades, one by one. But it was not a simple speech and you wanted to be clear. Bucky continued to watch you as he put his hands together and played a little with his thumbs, but you knew better. He had done so only once, when a mission went wrong and they lost the lives of civilians. It was a bad week, but for that, you thought there would be more than a week.
You saw his jaw twitch and a small smile adorn his face. But that scared you: his expression was totally illegible. And that anguish only increased.
He sighed heavily, then rubbed his hands and stood up, as if nothing had happened. He took the cup from your hands and put it in the sink, then turned to you. It was the same expression of a few hours ago, of the cinema, of all those innocent releases. You looked at him with a frown and a fear that you could no longer hide.
"Do you still have those pains? This time maybe we can try some massage." he said simply. You got up with extraordinary slowness and your legs were shaking slightly.
"Bucky... were you listening to me?" you asked hesitantly, and your voice was extraordinarily thin.
You saw his lips twitch slightly and his fists close, until his knuckles turned white. "Yes, honey. The point is, I don't think you listened to me instead." his voice became even stiffer and sterner than that command before.
You moved the chair only to get away from her figure, which now did nothing but increase the tremor in his hands. You knew something was terribly wrong, and her next sentence confirmed it.
"You are that person, and I never asked you if you wanted to be by my side or not. Because you will just be there. You are mine."
Bucky was perhaps having a dark moment, perhaps the soldier had taken control. Your brain created every possible scenario to justify the man before your eyes, but that calculating and lucid look said it best. Without further ado, you darted to the front door right in front of the living room. You mentally thanked yourself for taking off your heels as soon as you arrived. You only had time to remove the first chain from the door that two strong arms firmly grabbed your waist, only to have your back slam directly on the table.
The air was thrown out of your lungs and tears pooled in your eyes from the pain. But the anxiety, that did the even dirtier job of making you tremble uncontrollably. You had lost control of your body and you kept your eyes wide open on the figure of Bucky imposing itself on yours.
"I did every fucking thing to make you realize how much I loved you. You know, how it worked in my day? Maybe it was my fault, maybe I didn't explain myself well enough," he started mumbling things that didn't make any sense to you. , but you didn't notice when you felt the hand on your shoulder pads. You started screaming, only to get a slap.
You were briefly silent, hearing only the sound of the cloth being ripped from your body. Did Bucky, the same man you know, slap you? You already felt a bruise forming on that same spot. But that wasn't enough to stop you, even though your fight was pathetic against him.
"I did everything for you, the way you liked it, because I love you. I loved you from the fucking moment you offered me that coffee, I loved you when you worried about me and when you told me to take care of me!" he began to scream furiously, ending with your dress now reduced to a rag.
You desperately started sobbing and looking at him pitifully, hoping your Bucky would return. But instead of him there was a furious and violent man. It wasn't Bucky.
"I tried to make you understand," he came dangerously close to your face, letting locks of hair fall on your forehead, "but maybe times have changed and I'm still out of place. Maybe, I should do like today? make you mine and fuck you now? "
Your fight stopped abruptly and an expression of pure shock, succeeded by that of terror, accumulated on your face.
"Bucky, please, I was wrong. I was wrong, please, let's start over, please-" you started begging him, but all he did was shake his head and giggle at your little inner struggle.
"Let's start over now baby, can't you see? Let's start over, and this time I won't have a fucking no for an answer." he whispered slowly in your ear as his hands reached first your bra and then your panties. Your last defense barriers, go.
You screamed one last time, and unexpectedly managed to kick him straight in the ribs. You didn't care about your complete nudity, you knew he expected you worse if he caught you again. Bucky dodged briefly, surprised by the attack. Your still trembling body headed for the door and you almost succeeded. That anguish pressed you that everything would be bad, if not worse, but your mind was screaming freedom.
Maybe, in retrospect, you should have given up first. You felt a firm grip on your hair and the air was slammed out of your lungs again as Bucky slammed you right on the door. He had an arrogant smile adorning his face.
Wait, was this bastard enjoying your miserable fight?
His once reassuring smile now only made you tremble even more and scream in fear. You wanted to have felt that fear right away, but it was too late. His lips collided roughly on yours and Bucky managed to bite them several times as punishment. When you refused to cooperate, it was enough for him to put his vibranium hand right around your neck, and squeeze it tightly. You were asking for oxygen again and fighting desperately against him, already seeing black dots in your vision.
Meanwhile, you obscenities noticed how his other hand touched places he was not allowed to touch, which he had never been able to touch. And now he was savoring them so well with tight bruises, one after the other.
"If you don't cooperate, then you can also faint. I can do everything even without your cooperation, after all I've already done it." that sentence made your stomach turn and the bile rise.
"O-Okay." you nodded weakly and his throat was scraping more and more. He let you go, only to catch you in another cruel kiss and not get your breath away. Bucky managed to take everything he had dreamed of: his second chance with you. He was sure you would love him, with some little teaching.
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bonky-n-steeb · 3 days ago
Text
𝐵𝑅𝐸𝐴𝑇𝐻𝐸
𝙿𝙰𝚁𝚃 𝙵𝙸𝚅𝙴
𝘿𝘼𝙍𝙆!𝘽𝙐𝘾𝙆𝙔 𝘽𝘼𝙍𝙉𝙀𝙎 𝙭 𝙍𝙀𝘼𝘿𝙀𝙍 | 𝙈𝙊𝘽!𝙎𝙏𝙀𝙑𝙀 𝙍𝙊𝙂𝙀𝙍𝙎 𝙓 𝙍𝙀𝘼𝘿𝙀𝙍
𝗦𝗨𝗠𝗠𝗔𝗥𝗬:  Your life is as good as it gets. The perfect husband, the perfect daughter, the perfect job. But what you are unaware is that your husband is a deadly assassin and your long-lost friend, now a fearsome mob boss is hell bent on getting you back. But what you don’t know can't hurt you, right?
𝗪𝗔𝗥𝗡𝗜𝗡𝗚𝗦:  psychological disorder, PTSD, domestic abuse, yandere, obsession, violence, cursing. If you find any of this triggering please DNI. Also inform me if I left something out.
ᴛʜɪs ɪs ɴᴏᴛ ʙᴇᴛᴀ ʀᴇᴀᴅ, sᴏ ᴀʟʟ ᴍɪsᴛᴀᴋᴇs ᴀʀᴇ ᴍʏ ᴏᴡɴ
SERIES MASTERLIST || MASTERLIST
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“For how long?” You almost woke Iris up with your temper. The little girl had cried herself to sleep.
“Calm down! Don’t worry, just listen to me. Sam will bring you to my house. Once you are here you don’t have to worry.”
“Steve, for how long are you making Sam follow me? He literally is my neighbor. Not even in my wildest dream did I think he would be working for you!” If Steve was in front of you now, you would’ve punched him.
“We will talk when you come here. I’ll answer all your questions. Just come home.”
You wanted to ask a million questions at least but you decided talking face to face would be better. “Ok.”
“I’m waiting. Bye.” You clicked the phone shut and handed it to Sam.
“What do you think all those useless hospital visits were for?” Sam gave you a smirk and you shook your head.
☮︎︎☮︎︎☮︎︎☮︎︎☮︎︎
“Since college. Steve! Are you kidding me?” You punched his bulging bicep and he pretended to be hurt. You were sitting on the couch in your room as Rissie slept peacefully on the bed.
You didn’t believe your eyes as you walked in Steve’s house, or rather mansion. This one was bigger than the one he lived as a high schooler and that only meant one thing, he had expanded his ‘business’.
Steve had prepared an entire room just for you and another for Iris. But you weren’t going to let your child sleep away from her mom in the house of a gangster. What didn’t sit right with you was the way the room was decorated. It was as if he knew all your choices and likings. Well, he did know everything about you, didn’t he?
“What? I had to make sure you were okay!” Steve said with such nonchalance that you thought for a second whether stalking someone was legal now.
What Steve loved was that you weren’t friends separated by time, no, right now you were best friends as if all those years hadn’t passed.
“Steve..., what about... what about the man...?” For a second Steve didn’t catch on to what you were saying. “What man?” You visibly gulped, “the man Bucky killed. There would be a trial. And I would have to go to the courthouse. I don’t...” you couldn’t hold in much longer and you cried your eyes out. You wanted to ask about Bucky, but you couldn’t take anymore of heartbreak.  
“Shh, it will be fine. The man was a homeless drug addict. No one would ask for him. Him going missing wouldn’t be a big deal. I’ll handle everything.” He said with such a ruthlessness that it scared you. A man had died. It didn’t matter if he was homeless or a senator. All that mattered was, a life was lost. This quality and the moral compass of yours had made you one of the finest doctors.
As you cried, you covered your eyes with your hands and pathetic sobs left your body. Steve hesitantly pulled you close and your body instinctively relaxed in his warmth. He held you close and whispered sweet nothings into your ears.
You cried for all the precious things you had lost and all the unwanted information you had gained. You wished you hadn’t cleaned your house that day, that you hadn’t seen those videos of what Bucky or the Soldat was capable of. You wished you had been more vigilant today and hadn’t let that man enter. You wished you had noticed James in your house earlier. You wished you had been smart enough to understand Sam’s intentions.
Thriller was your favorite genre but it didn’t mean your life was supposed to be a thriller! Lost in your thoughts you didn’t realize that you had fallen asleep on Steve.
☮︎︎☮︎︎☮︎︎☮︎︎☮︎︎
Steve slowly tilted your head as he felt the sobs receding and started hearing soft snores. He saw you were fast asleep. Your eyelashes and cheeks were drenched and so was half of his shirt, but he didn’t care for it. He noticed the imprint his button his left on your cheek while your face had been buried in his embrace and he winced.
He soothingly rubbed his thumb over the imprint and gave himself a victory smile. He gently picked you up bridal style and laid you on the bed. He tucked you under the blanket and pecked your forehead. He finally had you, and he wasn’t going to ever let you go.
☮︎︎☮︎︎☮︎︎☮︎︎☮︎︎
It was dinner time when Steve opened the door. He had knocked but there wasn’t any response. So, he sneaked in the room to find both you and Iris sleeping. He had to agree Iris was a smart and adorable girl. She had taken all the right features of her parents.
He kneeled beside your side and softly placed a hand on your face. “Wake up.” He slowly shook you and you opened your eyes, they were bloodshot red from all the crying. He hoped that every day he would be the one to wake you up from now on.
“Hey! Oops, how long has it been? When did I fall asleep? God, I’m so sorry...” you started rambling. “Don’t be sorry. I just woke you up to tell you that dinner’s ready.” He gave you a smile and you wondered how people resisted throwing themselves at Steve.
“I’m.... you know what? I am very hungry. I’ll wake Rissie up and we’ll come down.” He nodded and got up to leave. You quickly held his arm and stopped him right in his tracks. He thought he should probably warn you not to touch him like this; you had no idea what effect you had on him.
“I just wanted to tell you how thankful I am. I was such an idiot. I was so lost in my own thoughts I didn’t even thank you. I don’t know what to do or how to express it, but Thank you so so very much!” You were almost about to cry again but Steve stopped you.
“Hey! You don’t need to thank me at all. I’m your best friend and that’s what friends are for, right?” You wanted to ask him whether you were really still friends, but you refrained. You smiled and nodded your head.
You slowly woke Iris up by pressing kisses to her face. She had seen things that no child should see. She needed your reassurance and your support. You need to be strong; not for yourself but for her. And you suddenly realized you both were alone, all alone in this entire world. All you had was each other.
“Wake up, Love.” You said as you kissed her forehead. “Mom?” She rubbed her eyes and they hauntingly reminded you of Bucky. “Where are we?” She asked pouting. “We are at my friends place.”
At that she smiled “We are with uncle Thor?” Iris adored Thor. “No, we are at my other friends place. You don’t know him, but I’ll introduce you. He is a good man, but promise me Rissie you’ll behave.” She nodded her head furiously, “I promise.”
“Mom, what about dad? Where is he? Is he okay? He is always so cool with his metal arm but today he scared me. He looked like a superhero in those clothes though.” He probably was a supervillain you thought to yourself.
“I don’t know where he is. And today he scared me too. But listen to me Iris. Why don’t we play a game? It’s only you and me. We don’t trust anyone else except the two of us. Not dad, not Steve, not Sam, not Thor. Nobody. Just the two of us. If you want to share something you come to me. If someone calls you, even if it’s dad, you won’t go without my permission, ever. You stay with me and I stay with you. Pinky promise?”
“Pinky promise mom. I love you.” She said so innocently that you wanted to cry, but you had to hold yourself, “I love you too. And I promise you I’ll keep you safe, my brave tiger. Did momma tell you how proud she is of you? What you did today saved both our lives. And I’m sooo proud of you.” You bombarded her with million kisses and she attacked you with a billion.
☮︎︎☮︎︎☮︎︎☮︎︎☮︎︎
When you both headed downstairs you were met with twice the number of people you expected. And Steve introduced you to each one of them. Tony was the lawyer and kinda the brains behind everything; Clint was his left-hand man; Sam, Vision and Bruce were some of his most trusted men. Wanda was his wife, who he had made very clear he married for business. What Steve didn’t tell you about though, was his son, George. He was around Iris’s age and a little taller than her. You would be lying if you said that the boy wasn’t cute.  
You all had dinner while they engaged you in small talk. All the dishes were your and Rissie’s favorites. And you suspected that it was on purpose but you didn’t complain. What you didn’t appreciate though were the looks thrown towards you by Wanda. It felt as if it were up to her, you would be dead by now. And while the others treated you with respect and love and made you feel as if you sat on this table every day; one person wasn’t impressed by you, Vision. You pushed the thought aside thinking that maybe, he was just awkward.  
As you finished the dinner, you thanked everyone; especially Sam. You were mad at him, but you weren't ungrateful. Iris and George had already become friends and he took her to see his toy collection. Seeing his toys, Iris missed her home. She missed the toys her mom used to impulsively buy and her dad would bring home for her from around the world. But George assured her that she could play with them whenever she wanted.  
☮︎︎☮︎︎☮︎︎☮︎︎☮︎︎
Steve left a little early as his work called. You talked with Sam for a few more moments and then finally collected Rissie and headed upstairs. Someone had already kept clothes for you two on the bed. You supposed they belonged Wanda and George. After you both changed and freshened up, you tucked Iris in and told her a bedtime story as she drifted off to sleep.  
You tried your best but you couldn’t sleep. You were thirsty and desperately wanted water. And being the shy idiot you were, you had forgotten to ask for a bottle while coming upstairs. You wasted another half an hour debating whether to go to kitchen or not. It was almost midnight and it wasn’t your home for you to roam freely. Though they all seemed friendly and kind, you hadn't forgotten they were all a part of a crime syndicate.  
But your throat became too dry and you gathered your courage and slipped out of your room. You made your way to the kitchen and let out a loud breath, till now nothing had wrong yet. As you headed back to your room, you heard loud moans coming from another guest room. You couldn’t care less. You thought it must be one of those guys and some maid. But what did stop you were the names they were moaning. It wasn’t any maid; it was Wanda. And the worst of all was that the man wasn’t Steve; it was Vision.  
You quickly ran from there. You had absolutely zero interest in getting entangled among all their internal stuff. Tomorrow morning you were going to pack your bags and leave. You didn’t want Iris and yourself to be stuck in this jungle. But now you were confused. Should you tell Steve or should you not? He did tell you that he didn’t love her but he didn’t tell you if it was open marriage. And even if it was, did he know that she was banging one of his very own men?
You were drawn out of your thoughts when you saw Steve standing outside your door. He was softly knocking it as you approached him “I’m here, just went to get water.” you shrugged. “Are you okay? You seem flushed.” You nodded awkwardly while your internal monologue rambled, should I tell him, or should I not? “I'm fine. I just ran all the way up here. But forget that, what brings you here?”
"I just wanted to talk.”
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gemstone-roses · 3 days ago
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marry me?
for @syntheticavenger challenge, how it started vs how its going.
Prompt: an engagement with bucky.
This is a dark fic and should be read at your own risk, you've been warned.
Word count :957
Warnings : stalking, possessiveness, drugging, buckys unhinged, murder, needles. Bit of non con touching. Allusions to noncon, Buckys a creep, bucky takes advantage of reader being drugged, 18+ read at your own risk.
Thankyou @nellblazer for helping me. Out with this, not tagging for this incase its not your thing.
what do you want to happen next? Let me know and I might make another 😉
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he's asked you out several times
each time you said no
each time he got more frustrated
seeing you touch Steve on the shoulder, seeing you curl up with Clint on movie night, the times your laughter has carried from Bruce's lab late at night.
The thoughts swirled in buckys head, each one making him grit his teeth harder.
you were nice to him, you were nice to everyone, but him, it was different, he knew it was, you stayed up late with him when he had nightmares, you made his coffee just so.
"I love you" he whispered
You sat up from your bed in shock. Your eyes adjusting to the dark
"bucky what the hell?"
"I love you!" he said louder.
"bucky get out" your voice strained
"please y/n, please, don't you think we'd be happy together?!"
"Friday? Friday?" you called
The AI didn't answer
"I disabled her" his voice was rough
"Tony's gonna kill you, and so will I if you don't get the hell out of my room!!"
"I said OUT" you yelled
"fine" he huffed, slamming the door.
Your heart was racing, too scared to go back to sleep, you lay in the dark until the sun peeked through.
It was then you noticed the flowers next to your bed.
You got up, chucked them in the bin, then threw up.
How it started
the mission was an easy one, supposedly. you'd been trying very hard to not be left alone with him, he seemed to seek you out all the time, you tried being cold, being overly nice, being rude, and still, he persisted. You ended up spending most of your free time in Bruce's lab, it's the only place bucky wouldn't go. You should of told someone, you should of said something.
two hydra agents had come from nowhere, bucky took one, you fought the other, he was subdued easily, not before you felt a little stab in your leg though, causing you to stutter and fall back.
"y/n!" bucky cried, snapping the hyrda agents neck, with ease.
"Hey what happened"
"I- I um" your eyes were blown wide, wild, panicked, bucky could hear your heart beating, fast, too fast.
"guys I need help in here y/n is down, there's something, not right"
"were a bit busy right now buck! Well be there as soon as we can" Steve assured him.
Your eyes rolled back, head lolling to the side
"No doll, keep your eyes open for me, that's it" he clutched your face, he'd never been this close to you before, when you were awake at least.
"Barnes, what's going on?" Bruce's voice traveled to both your ears.
"I don't know, we were blindsided, and then, she just collapsed, there's um, there's a empty syringe next to the hydra agents"
"Okay, you need to keep her awake okay, I'll prepare an antidote while the others come and get you"
"did you hear that doll? You have to stay awake for me, come on, good girl"
Tears ran down your face as bucky stroked his thumb down it, the edges of your vision were blurring
"m-no, I-i m sleepy" you stuttered out
your brain wasn't working properly
add that to the fear you had of being alone with bucky
and the adrenalin pumping through you
your thoughts were not coherent
"were almost here buck"
"doll, stay with me, hey!" he slapped your face lightly a few times
"when we get outta here, we're gonna go out, on a date, like a proper one like in the 40s, and I'm gonna propose with the most beautiful ring you've ever seen, and you'll say yes, and me and you, will live happily, does that sound good doll,?" he swiped his thumb a cross a tear running down your cheek
you tried, you really did try, but before the blackness overtook you completely, your head moved in a nod.
"That's my good girl".
How it's going
pepper potts can't half plan a party.
she had designated herself as wedding planner and she was loving it.
Tony had moved the two of you to another room, big enough for two, view to die for. It was ready by the time you'd recovered from the drug.
Every night, you hold back a sob when he crawls into bed with you.
You try not to recoil when his arm reaches over
He feels you shake at night, he holds you tighter, whispering how it's all gonna be okay.
"I can't wait for you to be my wife" and you choke back a sob as his hands dance up and down your side.
You and bucky go tasting for wedding cakes, you agree to the first one that's slightly edible.
Steves excited that his best friend finally got the girl.
Clint is happy for you.
Sam has already bought his nephews suits for the wedding
Natasha and Wanda take you dress shopping.
There's one person who hasn't been seen since bucky announced your engagement.
Your dress hangs in a cover on the door, you stare at it with contempt.
"You know it's bad luck to spend the night before your wedding together" bucky spends the night with Steve, who takes him out for a night on the town.
The horrifying situation your in hits you full force.
Alls you have to do is stand up and open the door
if you can do that, your almost there
you could run. he'd find you.
instead, you make your way downstairs, socks making little noise on the floor.
The lights still on.
You take a deep breath before knocking and pushing open the door.
"Bruce?" your voice is soft, quiet
"y/n?" he takes off his glasses
"help" you sobbed.
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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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nastybuckybarnes · 4 days ago
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Of Kings and Beasts  -  Thirteen
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Pairing: King!Bucky X Princess!Reader X King!Steve
Summary: Born a bastard of the King of Orlen, you’re thrust to the West to marry the Kings. However, the greeting you get is anything but warm, and your life with the King is far from enjoyable. He knows it isn’t your fault his husband is gone, but that fact alone won’t prevent him from taking it out on you.
Warnings: Angst, Language, Smut (noncon), Injuries, Violence,
Word Count: 2K
A/n: BRO work today was brutal but now I’m off for two days uwu. Um, I've been doing a bit of writing so have this, hopefully I’ll also post something tomorrow. I love you all!!!
THIS SERIES CONTAINS SMUT AND DARK THEMES THAT MAY BE TRIGGERING TO SOME AUDIENCES!!! READ AT YOUR OWN RISK!!! 18+!!!!
Series Masterlist
~*~
James pushes you behind his back, unsheathing his sword and pointing it at the King.
“You will not take another step, do you understand? We can discuss this like men, not fight about it like boys.” Thor blinks a few times, eyes darting between you and your husbands.
“Very well.” He straightens up, face perfectly political.
“I would like you to hand over my wife, or I will kill her where she stands. If I cannot have her, then nobody can.”
Steve yanks you back another step and shields you with his body, unsheathing his own sword.
“You will not make one more hostile move,” He snarls. Thor only laughs, eyes lacking any proper emotion.
“If my eyes are correct, then it is the two of you who have made hostile moves, not me. You both have swords drawn towards me, in my palace, in my kingdom, and you expect me to do nothing about it? This, my dear friends, could be considered an act of war.” Dread fills you as you’re reminded of Loki’s words.
“Lower your swords. Loki means for you to fall into battle. It isn’t worth it,” you say desperately, taking a step towards the injured King.
“He has just threatened to kill you and you expect us to lower our swords?” James looks at you like you’re crazy.
“This is what Loki wants. For us to quarrel. We must find a way to overcome this if we want any chance at saving the kingdoms. He means to overthrow both Asgard and Acadia, and I will not stand for it.” You take a deep breath then step towards Thor, your heart racing in your chest.
You open your mouth to speak but he’s already got you yanked against his chest, your discarded dagger pressed against your throat.
Your husbands each jump forward, but you shake your head at them desperately.
“Thor, we will discuss this. We will not do anything rash, alright? I am sorry for...” your eyes shut for a moment, heart in your throat as his grip on your shoulders slowly loosens, knife dropping from your neck.
“There is no need to apologize, my sweet. I know it was only an accident. I am willing to discuss the trade of you to Asgard, but I will not take no for an answer.” His grip on you tightens for a fraction of a moment before loosening further, arm dropping down to your waist.
“You are far too precious to be left in the hands of those fools. I will treat you right. I promise.” You close your eyes for a long moment then nod, eyes finding Steve’s desperately.
‘Just leave it,’ you mouth, watching him as he reluctantly nods. Your eyes then move to James’, the deep blues filled with fire and anguish.
“I would very much like to stay alive. The only way I see that happening without a war is if you can come to an agreement with him, as temporary as it may be. Whatever was wrong with James is obviously wrong in the reverse with Thor, and we will need help undoing the damage that Loki has caused. It’s only a matter of time before he finds out what is happening here, if he does not know already.” Thor doesn’t seem to hear you, far too entranced in kissing your neck.
The two men exchange perplexed looks, both at your words and his actions.
“What are we to do? Sell you off like a piece of cattle? No.” You scoff at Steve’s words and shake your head.
“It wouldn’t be the first time.”
Your words hit the Kings in the stomach as the truth behind them rings strong.
“Loki has orchestrated all of this. We need to know the details of his plan so we can remain one step ahead. If we fail... then both of the Kingdoms will fall.”
James looks confused, his confusion turning to anger for a moment when Thor’s hands stray upwards towards your breasts, his lips searching for yours.
You crane your neck away from him and take both of his hands in yours to stop their exploration of your body.
“Leave it be, James,” you whisper, not wanting there to be any fighting. He takes a few deep breaths then nods.
“If it is truly Loki who is behind all of this, why do we not seek him out and kill him?”
You motion to the man behind you and shake your head.
“He has only just gotten his brother back. Any attempt on his life would only be a step towards war. And Loki’s powers are not like any I’ve ever seen. He can be in multiple places at once with ease.” The Kings exchange glances, Steve grinding his teeth together when Thor places a protective hand on your belly.
“This has been enough chatter. What do you want in exchange? Make it quick, for I would like to get back to my chambers with her.” The thought of you beneath the King has James’ blood boiling and Steve seeing red.
“Wouldn’t it be wise if you were to go get your wound examined?” You ask, trying to buy yourself some time to come up with a better plan.
“I do not want to be away from your side for any longer than I must. My injury is not severe, I only want you.” You close your eyes and swallow hard, hoping that the Gods have an answer for you.
~*~
“Will you not join me in bed, darling?” You shudder, arms wrapped tightly around your frame as you stand on the balcony, the cool night air chilling you to your core but it’s far better than joining him in his bed.
A warm hand finds the small of your back and you jump in shock, inhaling sharply and trying your hardest not to flinch out from under it.
“I-I was just clearing my thoughts, wishing the Kings a safe journey back to Acadia.” Thor hums, arms wrapping around you and chin resting atop your head.
“You need not concern yourself with their affairs anymore. They have given you to me, and I intend to cherish you better than they ever could.”
Sold yet again to a new king, for a cheaper price.
He tugs you gently to the bed, laying you down and placing soft kisses upon your skin and kneeling between your legs.
His hands stroke at your thighs gently, and you must admit that the feeling is not totally unpleasant.
“I shall bed you properly, show you how a man can truly treat a woman.”
A large hand is forcing its way between your thighs, searching for the warmth between your legs.
You shake your head, pushing yourself back and closing your legs tightly
“Please, I-I’m not ready. Don’t use me as the other Kings did. You say you will treat me properly, so please do not take me against my will. I just... Please.” He freezes, face softening for a moment.
“Do not worry, my love. It will only hurt for a moment.” Dread fills you as he manhandles you, pulling you down to the end of the bed right back where you were.
He pushes your nightgown up, leaving your lower half bare for him.
His eyes are dark and he licks his lips, one hand snacking into his trousers to soothe the ache that’s started to form in his balls.
“I am large, so it may take a moment, but I assure you I will bring you pleasure.”
You squirm frantically, trying to escape him as he leans down to prepare you with his mouth.
His tongue is on you in an instant, and your mind brings you back to your only good memory with James.
Your heart aches and you cover your face with your hands, wishing it were him instead of the blond beast between your thighs.
“You are prepared for me, love. It will still hurt, but only for a moment.” He leans back on his haunches and pulls his cock from his trousers then leans forward, lining up with your entrance.
You cry out in pain at the intrusion, arching away from it and clawing at the man before you.
Your nails leave angry red marks on his chest, but he seems unbothered, focused only on sheathing himself inside you.
The pain spreads from where the two of you are connected, shooting through every nerve and making every cell explode.
It’s agony.
“Stop! Please, stop!” He does, stilling only when he’s filled you completely, his hips flush with your body.
Tears trickle down your cheeks as, yet again, you’re violated by a King. This time though, it's arguably worse.
He swore to love you, protect you, be your friend.
And now he’s taking something that he can never give back.
~*~
Sleep refuses to find you, so you venture out of the King’s chambers and through the Palace, wanting a change of scenery to help clear your mind.
You find yourself in the gardens, the place that spurred all of this madness, and shake your head with a sigh.
“Don’t you know that it is unsafe for little women to be out so late?” The voice sends a shiver down your spine and goosebumps to your skin.
“You cannot stop me. I do not know why you’re trying so hard to prevent the inevitable.” You turn around to face the trickster, a tired look on your face.
“At times I do not know why I try either.” This is not what he expected you to say. He’s stunned for a moment, and you use that moment to continue speaking the terrible thoughts that have plagued your mind.
“The kingdoms haven’t treated me fairly, and I find I have little to gain from any of this.”
He watches you for a very long moment, takes in your hunched over stance, the tension in your shoulders, and the exhaustion on your face.
“So why stand for it, then? Why bow to kings who have only ever treated you like a disposable whore?” You flinch at his harsh words and he offers you an apologetic half-smile before continuing.
“The Kings have done nothing but belittle and hurt you, so why stand for anything that they’ve done? Why encourage their rule? You’ve seen their kingdom, their villages. Everything is in ruins because they are so focused on conquering. Conquering land, kingdoms... women.” He eyes you with that last part, watching the way your shoulders sag a bit more.
“They are all the same. You do not deserve such treatment, just as I have not deserved the way I have been treated. We are nothing more than orphans, taken by families that are not our own.” You raise your eyebrows in shock and confusion, waiting for him to elaborate.
He chuckles once without humour and shakes his head.
“The old King of Asgard was hungry for power and travelled across the globe conquering lands. He took me as a baby. Stole me from my home as just another trophy from another conquest. We are similar, you and I. Surely you can understand why I want to watch the Kingdoms burn.”
His words hang heavily in the air for a moment, but more disturbing than that is the fact that you truly do understand.
His vision doesn't look so outlandish and... it’s starting to look rather appealing.
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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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silver-pieces · 4 days ago
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permission - oneshot
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soft dark housemate bucky x reader
word count: 3.3k
summary
Bucky has a lot of pent up anger, and lately, you’ve been getting on his nerves
warnings & tags
18+, smut, NONCON (but reader is into it), creampie, p in v sex, unprotected sex, spanking, smidge of violence, slight degradation & praise kinks
author’s note
written for @sweeterthanthis​ quote me on it 6k challenge - congrats!! the quote i chose was “besides, isn’t it more exciting when you don’t have permission?” from pulp fiction. this started out as hate sex and somehow evolved into something more. thanks for reading! <3
permission:
You don't mean to keep wearing Bucky's hoodies, but yours always seem to be in the wash or on your bedroom floor. You can tell it's getting to him. Stern reminders have become death glares that pierce right through you when you wander into the kitchen wearing one of his hoodies for the fifth day in a row.
It's baffling him, having a housemate. His therapist suggested it, even helping him search through online ads for housemates in the area. He told her that he picked your ad because you seemed friendly in your picture. Looking back, he realizes he should have gone for someone older. More responsible.
If it's not the clothes you keep 'borrowing' from him, it's the unwashed dishes, or the music blaring loudly from your bedroom. Between his housemate and his court-mandated therapy sessions, his only escape is work.
He knows it's unhealthy, inflicting the pain he feels on the people he's fighting. But he can't seem to stop one he's started. Lately, every fight ends in rage and blood. And when he comes home, he's too drained to care about his annoying housemate.
So when his therapist orders him to take a break from the action, he starts coming home with energy to burn.
You're curled up on the couch watching TV when the door slams. The sudden sound is jarring, and too loud to be an accident. Bucky is mad, and you're wearing his hoodie again.
He comes into the kitchen space and sets his bag down. He doesn't even glance your way as he starts unloading the small bag of groceries into the fridge and pantry.
You can't help it, you need to break the tension. "You're home early."
He closes the fridge door. "You're wearing my hoodie. Again."
"Yeah, mine are in the wash, sorry."
He finally looks at you. Well, it's more of a glare. With his jaw clenched.
You don't know why he's gotten so much more angry lately, but you're not about to let him ruin your mood. "What, do you want me to start asking for permission now? Where's the fun in that?"
This only seems to make him more mad. He leans forward, bracing his hands on the kitchen bench, and your gaze is drawn to his dark metal arm. "Take it off," he growls.
You shift a little on the couch. "I - I'm cold, Bucky."
"I'm not asking."
Slowly, you unfurl your legs to get off the couch. Something is different with him. Usually he doesn't like to draw attention to his arm, but right now he seems to want you to see it. To remind you who you're dealing with. But you know he's full of shit. He's a superhero, a good guy. He'd never hurt you.
Instead of taking off his hoodie like he expected, you have the audacity to give him a withering glare of your own, before snorting and heading to your room.
Something snaps.
He launches himself over the counter. The sound of him landing makes you turn, but he's on you before you can react.
You are pushed forward against the wall, pinned by his metal hand around the nape of your neck.
He snarls at you while you struggle in vain against his metal grip. It's not painful, but you're very clearly at his mercy.
Furious, you reach behind you and try to push him back. "Fuck you!"
"I'll take it off myself then, shall I?" His other hand starts pulling it up, revealing more of your thigh.
You try to push his hand away. "Wait! Wait Bucky - "
He yanks the hoodie up to reveal your bare naked ass underneath. He looks down. As you go to cover yourself, he bats your hand away, but drops the hoodie back down.
You whimper.
"Not even fucking wearing anything underneath," he growls. You can only squirm as he presses his body against yours. His hips meet your ass and you feel the distinct outline of his hardness. His hot breath fans your ear. "You picked the wrong night, doll."
The rumble of his voice goes straight to your core and you can't help it, your ass presses back against him. Oh, god. You're dead, you're so fucking dead right now. But he's insistently hard against you, and he doesn't seem to be backing off.
Bucky's mind is racing. He's mad, furious, at you, and yet suddenly he's realizing how pliant you've become beneath him.
Fuck it. He grinds himself against you, moving with sudden force that has you gasping against the wall. "You fucking like that?" he asks, his voice much softer than before. Before you can respond he does it again, letting out a slight grunt.
"Y-yes," you gasp, even as humiliation wars with the desire now blooming within you.
The sight of you with your mouth half open and your brows furrowed has his cock straining against his pants. Goddamn he wants more. He wants to bend you down over the closest available surface and draw every ounce of pleasure out of you.
With each thrust against your ass his control is unravelling. He angles your neck to open up more while he nudges his nose against your pulse, and breathes in your scent.
Pine and cedarwood. His hips come to a stop.
"You've been using my soap?" A dark undertone to his words. An anger reawakened.
Your eyes fly open.
Before you can even begin to apologize, the hoodie is ripped off. The cool night air greets your skin for a second before his hulking form is on you again.
With a whir of metal his hand pushes down on your neck and he takes you roughly by the hips. He manipulates your body until you are bent over in the middle of the hallway.
His feet kick your legs until you are spread wide for him. He rubs a hand along the small of your back and sighs. "God fucking dammit woman," he growls. "Look at you."
It shouldn't be such a turn on - god knows he's mad at you - but you feel your pussy get wetter by the way he manhandles you so easily.
The sound of his belt clinking as he takes it off, however, is panic inducing. You're not ready yet, you need time to –
The tip of his cock pushes and slides through your folds.
"Wait!" You blurt the word out even as you keen back against him for more.
"What's the matter, housemate?" He stills your movements with ease, keeping his cock against your pussy. It's just shy of your clit and he knows it. His grip gets harder on your hips as he imagines you chasing your own release using his cock as stimulation.
"I - I don't want it yet - " but your mind is blank as you struggle to come up with a complete sentence.
"Really?" he growls, and he begins pushing against you again, his cock sliding through your increasingly wet folds. The sensation is enough to elicit a whimper from you. "You're not thinking straight, doll. Wanna try again?"
"Need to - oh - " you're cut off when he palms your right cheek. "Need to s-stop - "
Whack
He spanks you.
The shock and pain mixes with sudden pleasure. You cry out and fall forward, your forehead touching the wall for a second. Then, he's pulling you back to him with a grunt.
"What you need is not important right now." There's nothing you can do as he holds you still, rubbing your other cheek in preparation. "You're going to take what I give you like a good fucking housemate for once, and you'll like it, yeah?"
Fuck, he's being so mean and you do like it. You like the anticipation as he lifts his hand from your ass in preparation to spank you again. The slick in your pussy must be gushing at this point, dripping down your inner leg.
Whack
The sting of his palm is harder this time, but you were ready. You let out a small moan, but manage to keep yourself still, pushing back against his palm.
His metal hand pulls your hips back hard against him. "Answer me," he growls, while his other hand smooths over your back again, feeling the way you've arched yourself for him.
Looking down at you, bent over in the tiny hallway of the little house you two share, he marvels at how quickly you submitted to him. You are much more agreeable like this. He should have done it sooner.
"No."
His hand stills over your back. "No?" He demands.
You don't know why you said it. You must be insane to say no to the super soldier who currently has you exactly where he wants you. And you're lying, too. You'll take just about anything he gives you right now. Especially if it's the long, hard, cock, currently resting beneath your pussy.
Biting your lip, you shake your head. "No, Bucky, I don't think I'll take it."
There's a brief moment of quiet.
Then he pulls back until the tip of his cock is prodding against your hole. "I was kind of hoping you'd be stupid enough to try that." He sounds deadly. You're dripping with desperation. You try pushing back against him but he holds you a second longer. Another reminder that he's in control. "Besides, isn't it more exciting when you don't have permission?"
He thrusts into you, filling you with his length.
You cry out at the sensation of being filled. As he bottoms out, hitting that perfect spot inside, your eyes roll back. A rumbled groan from above has your pussy clenching around him in arousal.
Slowly, torturously, he pulls out of you, until only the tip is inside, before thrusting back into you again. He does this a few more times, getting faster, until he gets into a rhythm of fucking you that sends pleasure through you like you've never had before.
"You know what I think?" he grunts.
You try to meet his thrusts, not trusting yourself to speak.
"I think you like wearing my clothes," he accuses softly; so contrary to the harsh grip he has on your body.
You moan and shake your head.
"No?" You can hear the grin in his voice. "You don't love having my scent all over you? Walking around naked beneath my fucking clothes? Acting like you're my woman?"
"Bucky," you whimper, unable to take it. He's filling you up so well, so much better than you ever imagined.
"Admit it," he demands, cold and cruel.
Your pussy gushes with arousal at his words. The pleasure in your core is slowly increasing with each thrust of his cock deep inside.
Whack
He spanks you again with a snarl.
Your walls clench around him in pure bliss. "Oh god, yes!" you cry out.
His thrusts get heavier, paired with his deep grunts. You are spread beneath him exactly the way he needs, unable to do anything other than take it. Your pussy clenches around him more and more until you're whining and moving against him with reckless abandon.
"Too much!" you cry out. White hot pleasure is rising within.
"You wanna cum?" He grits out. "Beg."
You shut your eyes as tears threaten to spill. He's really trying hard to humiliate you, and it's working. Inhaling deeply as he rails into you, you push down the embarrassment fluttering in your stomach and focus instead on the pleasure. "Please, Bucky, I'm begging you to let me cum. Please?"
He leans further over you, and the new angle has you seeing stars. You try to hold out as long as you can, waiting for him to say the words. You're panting as each thrust courses through you, building the pressure deep inside.
"Good girl," he says, his voice hoarse, and it sends you over the edge. "Come for me."
You don't have a choice, it's already here. The white hot pleasure explodes inside you, and your walls flutter and clench around his cock. He fucks you through it, reaching deep inside you and hitting that perfect spot over and over. It spreads through every inch of you, waves of pulsing pleasure in tandem with each stroke. Eventually your body is so spent you struggle to stay standing, but he keeps you right where he wants with ease.
Then, his grip tightens on you as he groans something in a language you don't know. He barely pulls out of you, pulling and pushing your bodies together like he can't get enough. The sensation is pure bliss as you feel him finally spend into you. You revel in the way he sounds and feels coming deep inside you. It goes on and on, until he finally slows down.
Bucky did not expect to be fucking you tonight, but he can't deny it, he is completely, utterly, satisfied. All the tension building up from before is gone. At least, momentarily. His half hard cock still inside you makes him realise he could still go a few more rounds.
But you look done for now. Slowly, he lifts you up, keeping your back against his chest with an arm around your torso. His cock slides out in the process, and the little moan you make combined with the view he has over your shoulder has his hardness pressing against your ass again.
You sigh in contentment as he brushes a thumb over one of your nipples.
"I like you like this," he says softly in your ear. Shivers of pleasure flow over your skin at his words. "Shower?"
You nod weakly.
He carries you, avoiding the shredded hoodie on the floor, through to the bathroom. When he sets you on your feet in the shower, the warm water instantly begins to relax your muscles. You watch Bucky pull his shirt off, gaze drawn to the thick muscles he has on his broad chest. There are scars around his shoulder where the metal arm is attached. Swallowing, you continue to stare as he pulls his pants down and steps out of them.
Straightening up, he joins you in the small shower.
You don't know how, but he's hard again. His eyes don't break contact as he reaches behind you to get the soap. Raising an eyebrow, he gives you a lazy smile.
You bite your lip and duck your head. "Sorry about the soap," you say quietly.
"Eh, you've made it up to me."
That makes you smile, as you stare down and inevitably look at his hard cock. Your body tingles pleasantly at the sight.
"Can I clean you up?"
You could get used to hearing his baritone voice so soft and intimate. Shyly, you nod.
He runs the soap over you a few times, then sets it aside. Looking up, you see his eyes focused on your body as he runs his hands over you. His right hand is calloused and featherlight over your skin, running over your waist and up to your breasts. He cups them and massages them firmly.
The water runs down your face as you lift your head back under it and close your eyes. You want his hands everywhere.
Then, he brings his metal arm around you lower back and pulls you flush against him. His hardness burns firmly against your belly. By the tilt of his head and the tension in his jaw, you know he wants you again. Now.
This time, he takes you from the front. Bracing himself on the wall behind you, he lifts you up with ease and cages you in with his broad body. You wrap your legs around his hips for support, as anticipation curls inside.
He waits, watching your breasts as your nipples grow hard from the coldness of the wall. A satisfied growl rumbles from his chest.
"Bucky," you say, brows furrowing, "please, need you inside me."
"So submissive for me, doll," he groans, as he leans forward and slants his mouth against yours.
Opening your mouth for him, you fall apart as his tongue tastes your lips.
He eases you down on his cock. The kiss gets stronger, more desperate and wild, as he consumes your moans of pleasure. His own grunts follow when he starts fucking you against the wall.
You can already feel your second orgasm coming. You're settled firmly between him and the wall, so each thrust only serves to stretch your pussy further and bring you down harder on him.
The glass is fogging up as the world fades away until it's only Bucky, kissing you, holding you, fucking you.
You throw your head back as he brings you to the edge. The coil of pleasure inside is getting harder and harder to hold back.
He is relentless, his cock filling your tightness, while he kisses down your chin, your jawline, and your neck.
"Bucky." It's quiet but you know he can hear.
He pulls away from your collarbones and leans in, his forehead against yours. You are consumed by the feral look in his eyes. "It's okay. Cum for me."
You fall apart at his command. Between him and the wall you're pressed against, there's nothing you can do but take it. Your muscles contract around him and you let out a whimper as his cock brings you over the edge again. Warm, intense pleasure floods your body.
He watches you orgasm so intensely, it's almost scary, but he doesn't slow his pace. When he glances down, he lets out a pained moan at the sight of his cock impaling you and suddenly he's going even faster, stronger. "So good - oh - oh fuck yes - " He groans as hot spurts of his cum fill you from deep inside. At the same time there's a sudden slam beside your head.
Dust puffs out from the hole his metal fist just made in the wall. He knows he should be shocked, but all he can think about is the way you're taking him so damn well right now. In fact, you show no signs of fear when he glances back up at you. Jesus, he thinks, does nothing scare her? As he finally stills inside of you, panting, he marvels at the way you look at him.
You watch almost hungrily as he extracts his metal fist from the wall. Pieces of crumbling plaster hit the shower floor as dust is washed down the drain. As he flexes his metal hand, your pussy clenches.
He hisses. "Fuck, doll."
"Sorry." You didn't realise how much you liked his metal arm, but you can't seem to look away from it.
His eyes darken as he catches you staring at it. With almost no effort, he lifts you from the wall and sets you down away from the debris. In the process, he pulls out of you, and you can feel him dripping down your leg.
He leans back under the shower water for a moment, running his hands through his hair. Christ.
"How was I?"
You blink. "What?"
He ducks out of the water. "The sex. Did you like it?"
Your heart skips a beat. "Oh." You notice he's deliberately not meeting your gaze; his eyes flicking between the hole in the wall, and the floor. "Yep - yes. It was good."
He nods; clears his throat. "Good."
You narrow your eyes at him. A minute ago he was fucking you against a wall, and now he's too shy to even look at you? You can't figure this man out. "Everything okay?"
"I'll pay for the wall," is all he says as he goes to leave.
Your heart sinks; something's wrong. His frame takes up so much of the shower, you have to back up as much as you can to let him pass.
As he brushes past you, he hesitates. Then, he looks at you; studying your face. "I really don't scare you?" He gestures to the hole in the wall.
Oh. Your gaze softens. "No, Bucky."
His chest rises and falls, and there's a hint of vulnerability in his eyes. Before you can say anything else, he leans in and kisses you again.
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darkbucky · 5 days ago
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pairing: dark!bucky barnes x reader
warnings: violence (not really detailed, but you can guess what he's trying to do), reader crying & begging, possessive behavior, bucky being a bit gross
a/n: idk why or how, but I had this idea of dark!bucky being possessive about reader having an old tattoo of their ex's name and trying to cut it off. (also, ik this is short + not really a fic, but I still wanted to include warnings just in case) *and if anyone like this idea, feel free to use it in a fic! I want to see y'all's interpretation*
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the pain was searing hot; it was a surprise you haven't passed out yet, but he was delighted you were conscious and aware – having you witness what he was doing to you, what he was trying to erase.
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as soon as bucky discovered your ex's name still inked on your body, it brought out something dark within him: possession slithered its way across his hands, coiled tightly around the handle of his blade.
“you're with me now, doll. I don't see why you haven't had this removed, when they're out of the picture.”
your stomach flipped in sync with his movements; the knife glinted in the light each time it dropped back down in his vibranium hand.
“b-bucky, you're scaring me,” your eyes darted frantically, like a cornered animal seeking an escape.
“no, no, it's okay. I'm doing this for us,” he cooed. “now, hold still for me, okay?”
you couldn't have outrun him even if you tried – you were no match for his super serum enhanced abilities. he had you on your back in a blur, his knees pressed down on your chest; the weight of him was oppressive.
“bucky, stop!” you wheezed. “please, don't do this!” you thrashed in his hold, eyes wild and pleading.
“do you not love me? is that why their name is still on you?” he gritted out, froth collecting at the corner of his mouth with every word. “maybe I should brand you as mine. leave a mark that will stay with you forever. won't you like that?”
tears spilled down your cheeks in a steady flow. bucky groaned as he took in the sight; his rough tongue lapped it up greedily – you flinched with every stroke, earning you a deep chuckle.
“are you ready, darlin'?” he grinned down at you, vibranium arm whirring as he brought the weapon closer to the offensive word engrained into your skin.
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cryptidcasanova · 5 days ago
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Are You Mine?
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Mob!Bucky x Reader
Summary: You made the mistake of falling for the mysterious and handsome stranger you met in New York. Unfortunately for you, you never asked about his line of work.
Are you mine tomorrow? Or just mine tonight.
Warnings: Dub/Con (I’ll list Non/Con to be safe), Protective/Possessive Bucky, hate sex, vulgar language, violence, degradation, knife play, overstimulation. 18+ only. Proceed with discretion.
Words: 5.4k
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“C’mon doll, don’t do something stupid.” James warned with a debonair smirk.
The dark, goading look in his eyes made your heart constrict. His pupils were dilated and you knew the look all too well. He wasn’t angry, no. He was ravenous.
“Stay with me.” He coaxed, gently this time, setting down his glass of bourbon to cup your face. He was so close that you could feel the warm timber of the words that rumbled in his chest. “You don’t have to be scared.”
His words would have melted into your skin if not for the heavy implication behind them. 
He wanted you to give up your family, your life, your everything to be his. You weren’t scared, no. You were angry. 
James pulled your attention back to him with the caress of his thumb on your cheek. Firm, yet gentle. Always in control. He drew you in like waves to the shore.
“Come on, doll. Are you mine?” His seductive purr made you shiver and he knew it. Your skin crawled at how easy he could manipulate your body. 
But defiance was carved into corners of your heart and you weren’t giving up without a fight. And while you closed the space between you your hand reached down, gliding across the cool crystal glass of bourbon.
Whispering against his ear your control snapped.
“Fuck you.”
Before James could react you used every ounce of your energy to propel your arm, shattering the glass across the side of his head.
He fell to the ground with a thunk.
And for a moment, just for a moment, you looked at him with pity. You cared about James, hell, maybe you even loved him. And you didn’t want anything to do with him.
Hysteria was an ice bath to the system when you saw the splintered glass in your hands. And the blood. You needed to get out of there. 
The front door was not an option. Someone could be waiting for James to come back downstairs and you didn’t want to run into any of his goons. 
Goons. What a word. 
Your thoughts drifted back to when James introduced you to his friends Steve and Sam. You had just started seeing him and he took you to the greasiest pizza place on the east side. Together the three of them were so happy, so carefree. You loved every moment of being with them.
Like a punch to the stomach you shook your head. They were all just muscle men. They hurt people. They weren’t your friends.
So you ran to the window and looked out to the countryside before pulling yourself out and over, sparing one last glance at the man passed out on the carpet.
You ran through the yard and climbed the neighbors fence and ran until your lungs burned and legs ached. You didn’t stop until you made it to a part of town where you could call a taxi to take you home. 
And then a thought struck you; you couldn’t go home. If anyone came looking for you that’s the first place they would go. Giving the driver different directions halfway through the drive you had to stay on your toes. 
It wouldn’t be too long before they knew what you did. You needed to find somewhere safe. 
The thought of running to the police would have been more appealing if you didn’t already know that the police worked for James. He was untouchable. How did you not see it before?
A thought struck you - you had an aunt that lived just outside of town. She was estranged and it had been years since you had seen her, but it was the only place you could think to go. She was one of the people you had never told James about. 
Stopping at the end of her street you walked the rest of the way, looking over your shoulder the entire way. Every crunch of leaves and sounds of cars in the distance made you jump.
But you were alone.
The house was quiet and overgrown in ivy from years of neglect. The lights were off. It must have been pretty late, after all. Rummaging the potted plants until you found the spare key you let yourself in quietly, and it wasn’t until you closed and locked the door behind you that you let out a breath you had been holding all night.
You were running away. You were running away from a life of crime and hostility and fear. All on your own, you had run away from the largest mobster in New York. 
You couldn’t go home. Nomadic in your own right you would have to keep running.
“Auntie.” You called out once, turning to face the walkway. The house was quiet.  “Auntie, I hate to show up like this -” 
Stepping from the walkway towards the living room you stopped. It was too quiet. Turning to the light switch you flipped it on in a hurry. The sinking feeling escalated when the house remained dark. Dark and alone, your heart was hammering. No. No.
And then the familiar sound of a metal lighter made your eyes snap to the living room.
Even in the dark, sitting in the silence, the silhouette of a man sitting in your aunt’s chair was all too familiar.
“James.”
He didn’t say anything but toyed with the lighter, the flame licking light into the room. Even in the flickering glow he looked just the same as you had remembered him, as if it wasn’t his blood dried into the cracks of your hands.  
James looked as composed as you had ever seen him, but his eyes told a different story. If looks could kill.
“I think we ought to have a talk, doll.”
You couldn’t find the words to say. James was a ghost in your story and you were stunned into silence. 
His sneer was muted by the way he licked his lips, teeth catching them in a way that was practiced. He knew exactly what he was doing. 
“I think you’ve stated your position clearly.” He taunted, letting the light go out once more. “And now I’m going to state mine.”
It was a business transaction to him, and if you wouldn’t have been flooded with adrenaline you might have had the good sense to make a run for it. But you were trapped under his stare. His blue eyes were swallowed by the darkness of the night until he looked like one of the monsters in one of your bedtime stories.
This wasn’t the man you knew at all.
“We’re going home.” James cocked his head to the side, eyeing the way your hands were shaking. It made his lip twitch up into a muted smirk. “And then I’m going to teach you some manners.”
His words were the switch you needed, blinking in anger at his assumption.
“I’m not going anywhere with you, Bucky.” 
Oh, and that got his attention. 
You had never called him that. Everyone else called him Bucky, and his real name was reserved for you. He was proud in admitting that it was the second best sound you could make. Saying his name. Screaming it for the neighbors to hear. 
But not now. Not anymore. He had taken your love and trust and manipulated you. He wasn’t the hero in your story.
“See, that’s where you’re wrong sweetheart.” He grinned but it was a cold, detached grin that didn’t make it up to his eyes.
You had only seen that look in his eyes once before. It was before you watched him knock some guy’s lights out after an incident at a restaurant. Steve tried to deflect you, to steal your attention away from the scene, but you couldn’t forget the sickening crunch of broken bones. 
And it was all because of you. 
James needed to step away from the table to take a call and in the time it took him to leave the waiter - or what you had thought was a waiter - was trying to steal you away from the table. 
To steal you away from James. Of course you didn’t know what to make of it. And then when you noticed the gun tucked away in his jacket pocket you couldn’t help but freeze up. 
“Come with us princess. And you better not make any noise.”
You weren’t taught to be a fighter and never needed to be one, and with shaking hands you followed the thugs. Your eyes desperately roamed the restaurant until they finally found the solace of Steve’s baby blues, and while your own were filled with fear his eyes hardened into something wicked. Something mean.
You weren’t just pulled out from the restaurant, but were yanked like someone’s life depended on it. In hindsight it very well could have.
That was the straw that broke the camel's back. Someone had laid a hand on you, and James watched as it happened. And then before you knew it all hell had broken loose. 
Tables were kicked over and windows were broken and people were screaming bloody murder. 
You couldn’t pinpoint the moment between when James threw a coat rack like a javelin or when you were pushed to the ground by the frightened wait staff, but it all happened so fast. You couldn’t tell who was a thug and who was just caught in the fray. And then, when you flinched away when someone else touched you it was Steve, holding his hands out in peace.
Strong and imposing as he was, he wasn’t going to hurt you. He saved you, pulling you away from the mess.
Your heart ached. 
A frustrated tear slid over the slope of your cheek, and before you could wipe it away James was already there. He had moved across the room and was watching you with a curious expression, brushing the tear away with his thumb.
You didn’t even hear him approach. Closing your eyes, you couldn’t admit your defeat. 
It wasn’t fair and you knew it. 
“I am going to give you credit.” James spoke slowly so that you could hang on every word. “I didn’t think you had it in you to fight, and I’m proud of your will.” 
He caught another rogue tear, watching your composure crumble in his hands. You had fought so hard. Had run so long. “But you will not fight me on this. Baby, you’re not getting away from me.”
Leaning back against his hand you took a breath.
“How?” You mustered, opening your eyes slowly, like it might have all been a dream. “How did you even find me?”
He didn’t reply right away, a somber grin on his lips. 
James was digging into his pocket with his free hand and pulled his phone out before showing you the small going dot on the map. It was your location. He was tracking you the whole goddamned time. 
“Because you belong to me.” He paused for a moment, biting his lip. “And I care for you too much.” 
His touch lingered, moving his hand from your cheek down your jaw and around the back of your neck. Crushing you closer he reeled you in, nose to nose until you could see that hard exterior of his start to crack. 
He was full of malice and frustration but you saw something more. He was trying to stay calm.
“I mean it.”
And with a heavy exhale you stared back at him, crushed by his admission. Your heartstrings were aching. Of course you wanted to believe it. But that wasn’t realistic.
“I can’t do this.” You croaked, biting back the bile on your tongue. “I can’t be your girl, James.”
He shook his head once, nose brushing against your own.
“Yes you can. I know you can.”
And then, like his mask had been cast to the side he looked at you void of all the rage he carried before. It was just him. Sweet and kind. Your James. 
The pitiful whine that left your throat left you weak. Why couldn’t he have been the man of your dreams? He had been perfect. He was so much more than you could have ever wanted. 
James observed you the same way. He was watching as you shed the layers of pain and deceit and heartache. He knew it was inevitable. 
Deep down he must have understood, at least to an extent, that beyond everything else you were vulnerable.
And he loved that about you. 
You loved with your whole heart and hurt just the same. And he knew that this was going to hurt. 
He guided you into a kiss, the hand at the back of your neck holding you close while you tensed up. You didn’t fight him, but you didn’t open up for him either.
Oh yes. This was going to hurt.
When James pulled away it was with lofty breath, and his unguarded expression had hardened back into the businessman mask. Cold and closed off, he turned you by the neck to face the door. Against the shell of your ear you heard his enunciated demand.
“Enough running. It’s time to go.”
And at last he let go of your neck, letting you stumble forward on your own. James watched you closely, waiting for you to take your next move. 
It was a game of chess and you needed to stay one move ahead of him.
You had fought so hard to get to keep your future your own and you were starting to rewrite it without James Barnes. There would be no going back after this.
So you drew your leg back between his own hard and without mercy, and you knew you had hit your target when a low hiss spilled from James lips. And then when he was down on his knees you took your chance.
With any luck he would stay down. Damn him and his sweet words and his condescending power play. You weren’t going to give everything up for him.
Instead of running out the front door you turned at the stairs in the entryway, taking them two at a time without looking back.
You could run to one of the back bedrooms and jump out the second story window -
And then on the last step a hand shot out and grabbed your ankle, hurdling you back.  All of your momentum was absorbed by James, and instead of falling down the stairs he spun you around, pinning your body between him and the steps.
The wood was biting into your back and hip and his weight kept you pinned down. His smile was long gone. His eyes burned with something brutal.
“I said enough.” 
Your chest was heaving, breathing uneven, and he wasn’t even breaking a sweat. As a last resort you took to hitting his chest to try and break him off. You needed space but James hardly reacted, and when he did it was to pin your hands with a quick shush. 
Hovering over you he shook his head, biting his lip at the compromising position you were in.
“I was going to give you a minute to catch your breath,” He taunted with another smirk, shifting his weight over you. “I can see that your heart is jumping out of your chest.”
He was provoking you.
“But you had to go and do something stupid.” 
Pulling one of his hands back to the other pocket he procured the pocket knife he carried. He would never - 
“But that’s fine sweetheart. It doesn’t change anything.”
You stopped fighting against him the moment he moved the blade across your cheek, pressing just enough to get his point across. Holding a finger to his lips he pulled out his phone with the other hand.
It rang once, and when someone answered James moved the blade in warning across your bottom lip.
“Leave the car.” He ordered into the phone, pressing the dull side of the knife against your lips. “This is going to take a while.”
With a click the call was disconnected and his attention shifted back on you.
“You’ve done a number on me tonight.” James chastised, running his free hand over the side of his head where the glass was smashed. “And I was so goddamned angry with you, you little minx.”
With a tsk he dipped the knife lower, down to your heaving chest.
“But it was so fucking sexy. I couldn’t stay mad.”
Eyes widening at his words you tried your best to stay still. The kind, compassionate man you cared for was also this feral beast.
“James -” 
He shushed you again with the knife, a devilish twinkle in his eyes. 
“And even now you defy me.” He purred, moving the knife away so that he could admire you. He treasured you, coveted you, and would do anything to keep you. “You drive me mad.”
In a beat he changed again, leaning down to capture you in a poisonous kiss. James was possessive and domineering, more than he had ever been before. 
Even now, trapped underneath him, your body was succumbing to him. It was familiar with him, calling for him, and he used it to his advantage. 
He had ruined you.
James was goading, teasing your tongue with his own until a groan was swallowed by him. He was trying to remind you, to coax you back the way things were.
He was still the same man. Your man. 
You hated him so much. 
And then you kissed him back. 
Fueled by white hot rage you kissed him back. 
Every kiss and bite on his lips and every scratch of your nails against his arms was to pronounce your fury. You yanked at his hair, still threatened by the knife at your chest. The cold metal made your pulse jump.
You loved him and hated him and needed him.
His groan spurred you on, teeth clashing, tongues fighting, lips bruising. When James finally pulled away you were lightheaded. 
“You’re it for me, doll. Why can’t you see it?”
James pulled at your thighs, drawing them around his body before settling both of his hands to your backside. The knife was forgotten, second place to harshly groping your ass. 
Before you could protest he had moved, pulling you up and away from the unforgiving wooden stairs and closer to his body as he stood. Your arms held onto his shoulders, eyes on his.
The storm in your eyes was exactly what he was hoping for. 
“Use your words. Don’t tell me you don’t feel the same.”
“We can’t do this.” You implored, grasping to his shoulders to stop him. “I hate you. I can’t lose everything I have for you.”
“But you care for me.”
His smooth words made your pulse jump.
“Of course I fucking care!  But none of this is okay.” You roared, smacking him across the chest for good measure. 
If anything it spurred him on. James could take the pain. All that mattered was that you cared about him and he was going to use it as leverage.
“I care about you too, doll.” He urged. “I’m going to change your mind.”
“Like hell you are.” 
James smacked your ass with vigor, smirking at your yelp. There was light filtering in from the window that exaggerated his features. He was striking with his eyes blown wide and his cheeks sharp enough to cut. He was more unhinged than you had seen. 
“I get it, sweetheart. You’re upset.” 
He pulled you in, tugging at your bottom lip harder than before. The whine that fell from your lips echoed through the room. 
“So why don’t we make use of all that pent up energy?”
James rushed forward, charging you into the wall. Your back stung and you could hear a picture frame crack from the force of it.
He swallowed your pained hiss with his lips. 
The rush of it all made your body hot and angry, and James was branding your skin as his own. He nipped at your lips and your jaw and your neck. His sharp bite made you push your chest out at the sting. You were pushing him away, nails digging into his shoulder. 
He wasn’t deterred. James’ hands kneaded your ass painfully before moving around your thighs and to your hips.
He was holding you up only with his strength and the pressure against the wall, and you only helped his cause by tightening your legs around him. The friction of your jeans against his body only made your body buzz to life. Fuck.
His thumbs rolled over the indent of your nipples through your bra and James groaned. He wasn’t satisfied. 
The rational part of your brain was silenced when he roared, using both of his hands to tear your shirt straight down the middle. The ripping of cloth made you jump, watching his hungry expression land on you.
Fiery eyes were on yours he reached up again, and with a hefty yank the bra was destroyed.
He wasted no time grinding against your covered core in hard, forceful pulls. The brutal snaps of his hips and bruising hold on yours left you reeling. Between your jeans and the confines of his slacks you could feel the heavy outline of his aggression aching. 
He was going to destroy you.
And all the while his hand yanked at your hair to gain access to your neck. Sharp teeth bit down at the apex there, and with a hearty shriek you pushed against him. The sting at your scalp and jumping pulse at your neck sent you into overdrive, and when you groaned against him again he cupped his other hand over your mouth. 
At the sound of muted whines he smirked against your skin, biting down again. Biting and sucking, he was marking his way down to your chest.
Hot and angry, your skin jumped with goosebumps. He was showing no mercy, and with a fervent hunger he pulled and sucked at the skin sloping down your chest. He let go of your hair, focusing on overstimulating the breast he couldn’t latch onto with his mouth.  
His grip was brutal, kneading and pinching and groping while his mouth assaulted your other nipple. You couldn’t push away, only managing to push out your chest for him to use as he pleased.
And the grinding. It was all too much. With one exceptionally hard thrust the picture frame fell behind you and you gasped. Legs shaking, you were losing your grip. 
The pain had left a wave of pleasure in its wake.
When he pulled up James’ lips we bruised and parted, a thin line of red outlining his bottom lip. Blood. He had drawn blood. And then his lips were back on yours, both of his hands at the sides of your face.
“Still with me sweetheart?” James teased. 
His eyes had moved down between you, and with it his hands. You were mortified. Down the slope of your chest bruises were building. Worse yet, at the apex of your legs a dark, wet outline from the friction of his thrusts.
“Would you look at that?” He whispered in awe. 
Fingers dancing between you he rubbed right there, right at the outline of your cunt.
“You’re soaked babe. Should I take care of that for you?”
His offer was tormenting. Your nails were digging into his jacket sleeves, trying to push him back. 
“No, no James.” You pleaded, pushing at his sides. “This is all your fault.”
He jeered out a laugh.
“You know, I think I know just the thing. You wanna act stupid?” He warned lightly, and with a smack at your ass he pulled you away from the wall. “Fine baby, I’ll fuck you stupid.”
His long strides made quick work of the space, throwing you down to the ground in one of the rooms. Overstimulated by his swift movements the next thing you knew he was tugging at your jeans.
“James, f-fuck off.” You struggled to find the words, pushing at his chest. “I, I mean it -”
“Me too.” He promised earnestly, and once the pants and panties were cast aside he gave you another chafing look. “Look at me.”
The raging fire within you was fueled again by his taunting. When his hand moved your chin for you you gasped at him and then the mess between your legs. 
Even in the low light the gleam of slick was coating your skin.
“I think you love this.” He preened. “Your body loves this.”
And then his hand attacked with the speed of a viper, cupping your cunt fully. His fingers toyed there, swiping back and forth to create a sloppy sound for you to hear.
“Tell me to stop.” James teased darkly. “Tell me to fucking stop.”
But you couldn’t. You had no time. His fingers had lined up and attacked your cunt. Your soft, aching walls were burning for contact and he scissored them open. You were positively dripping for him. His harsh attacks were focused. His thumb was pressed down hard on your clit.
James was stroking at a devil’s pace, and your legs locked up when he hit a certain way.
His eyes told a story all their own. Jackpot.
He was relentless, aiming for that spot to make you jump. 
And he found it. Over and over he assaulted that spot until you were writhing. Even then he didn’t stop. 
Oh god, he didn’t stop and then you were gushing all over his hand and down your legs and onto the floor.
James was making a mess of you, and your blubbering had turned into lofty moans when he paid attention to your clit.  And he didn’t stop, wringing out the pleasure from your body with forceful orchestrations.
Your legs were tired and your stomach was taught from contracting over and over again.
“Such a fucking pretty cunt. So good to me.” He purred out with a smirk. “You like that?”
When you couldn’t find the words to reply he yanked at your hair again. Crying out he looked at you down the bridge of his nose expectantly.
“Stay with me.” He warned. “You like it when I take you apart. Who would have thought? Maybe if we did this sooner you wouldn’t have ran.” 
You hesitated when he let his fingers go still inside you. Holding a breath you tried your hardest not to react, but your cunt was clenching around him like your life depended on it.
“I hate you.” 
Your tone said otherwise. You had to swallow a moan as his fingers left you empty, wiping away your mess against your hip.
“Prove it.” 
James was challenging you behind a cheshire grin and when you couldn’t come up with a quick enough reply he pulled you up by your arms, spinning and pushing you down against the edge of the bed. 
Pushing your legs apart he hummed in appreciation. Ass in the air and nose to the sheets you turned your head to face him.
“Stay there.”
James was in a hurry to rip his own clothes off, tossing them to the side before he licked his lips. The way he stalked back over to you was primal, ravenous.
“I’m going to break you, doll.” He promised. 
A quick sting rippled through you as he spanked your ass cheek, making you wince into the sheets.
“You are going to break and you are going to beg, and are going to wish that you would have just listened to me.”
Another spank made your skin jump. 
In an instant he lunged, his fat cock spearing you open with a grunt. You couldn’t take it - weren’t prepared for the intensity of it. 
Your legs were still shaking from the mess you made on the ground. 
James was merciless, plunging deep and hard and fast until it stung at the corners of your eyes. Your body ached at the assault. With every thrust his balls were slapping against you and his cock was grazing the most sensitive parts of you. 
Whimpers turned into full on howls when his hand found your hair again, yanking you up to meet him.
“James!” You yelled out in frustration and pain, and the bubbling noises of anguish racked your body.
He was using you to keep himself suspended, and the burn made you yelp. You needed to use your arms to keep you steady as he ground his pelvis into your backside. 
And he didn’t stop.
James was going to break the goddamned bed. His other hand was there, digging into your hips before it danced around to the front of your pelvis. His hand slithered further, until he could trace your clit with quick brushstrokes.
“James,” Your panting was broken up by another sharp thrust. 
His cock nudged deeper and deeper into your body until your toes were curling at the pressure. 
“No, I can’t. I can’t!”
“You say that a lot, sweetheart.” 
James chuckled, pulling your head back far enough to groan against your ear. 
“You can take it.”
And with that he released your hair, letting you fall back to the bed while he took you from behind. One hand against your hip stabilized him as he ground his body against yours and the other had found respite at your clit.
A thunderous roar poured from your lips as you came hard and fast around him.
Your body ached with electric jolts but James didn’t let off the gas, pulling pleasure from your clit until you begged him to stop. 
You pushed at his hand feebly and when James finally let go it was only to settle both of them at your hips. It was a dangerous position to be in.
His stamina seemed limitless, only ebbed on by your defiance. You scratched at his legs to push him back but his weight was too much. He had you surrounded.
“You’re the only girl for me.” He chanted. “And I’m the only man for you. You are taking my cock like a goddess. My little minx.” He laughed when you scratched him.
His ruthless thrusts burned you from the inside out, until your voice was hoarse and your makeup was smeared. And he didn’t ease up until all that you felt were the hard planes of his body melting into your own.
The fight was being pulled out from you as James took it and converted it into his own power.
“You don’t hate me.” He soothed against your shoulder. “I know you don’t.”
His thrusts had changed, and his long strokes were replaced with quick, shallow ones. 
“You love me.” He added with a grunt, his voice cracking. “And I love you.”
Your ears pricked up. 
He had never said that before.
You hardly had the energy to turn your head to look back at James, and as you looked across the planes of your body, between the blood and the sweat and your own sticky mess your eyes found his. 
He was losing his control. 
The dopey, stupid look in your eyes was his undoing. With a final thrust he stilled, seated and sated, and he looked at you with clarity. 
A moment passed filled with longing and aching and vulnerability.
“You love me?” You whispered at last, vocal chords aching.
James, with his blown out eyes and his chest heaving hovered over you with a gentleness that had yet to make itself known.
“Of course I do.” He kissed the curve of your shoulder. “Of course baby.”
And when his hands caressed your sides lovingly you almost gasped.
“Are you mine, Y/N?”
His question sent a shiver down your spine. James rarely used your name. 
And even now, though your mind and body disagreed, your heart had fallen into a content, steady rhythm.
A slow, creeping smile tugged at your lips.
“I suppose I am.”
That was all he wanted to hear you say - that you were his.
James hummed his satisfaction, kissing your forehead tenderly.  
“No more running, little minx. Let’s go home.”
Your eyes were heavy as he moved away and wrapped a blanket around your body, and as he pulled you up into his arms you knew that with every step back to the car your fate was sealed.
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And the thrill of the chase moves in mysterious ways
So in case I'm mistaken, I just wanna hear you say 
“You got me, baby. Are you mine?"
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