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#dark bucky barnes imagines
buckysbrattybug · 21 hours ago
➸ 𝐢𝐧𝐜𝐥𝐮𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐬𝐞𝐛 𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐧, 𝐛𝐮𝐜𝐤𝐲, 𝐦𝐢𝐜𝐤𝐞𝐲, 𝐥𝐞𝐞
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[♡ 𝐟𝐥𝐮𝐟𝐟 — ✷ 𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐬𝐭 — ❀ 𝐡𝐮𝐫𝐭/𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐭 — ♞ 𝐝𝐚𝐫𝐤 — ✮ 𝐝𝐝𝐥𝐠 — ✧ 𝐬𝐦𝐮𝐭 ]
𝗯𝘂𝗰𝗸𝘆 𝗯𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗲𝘀 𝘄𝗼𝗿𝗸𝘀
𑁍 𝐨𝐧𝐞-𝐬𝐡𝐨𝐭𝐬
it’s so wrong (but it feels so right) | summary: where you know it’s wrong, but it feels so right. and so you stop fighting him. ♞ ♡
owie | summary: where you hurt yourself and hide it from your daddies. (stucky x reader) ♡ ✮
ungrateful | summary: where bucky punishes you after another failed escape attempt (sambucky x reader) ♞ ✮ ✧
he’s gone | summary: where steve leaves you for peggy and bucky has to pick up the pieces ✷ ✮
mama loves you | summary: where you spend a lazy day in with bucky (little!bucky x mommy!reader) ♡ ✮
big girls don’t lie | summary: where bucky finds out you haven’t been eating and he’s not happy about it, so he takes matters into his own hands ✷ ✮ ♡
such a good boy | summary: it’s bucky’s first time without you when he’s little. steve looks after him for the day. (little!bucky x mommy!reader) ✷ ✮ ♡
where you’re supposed to be | summary: you’re feeling anxious and bucky has to leave you whilst you’re in your littlespace. crying ensues. ✷ ✮ ♡
𑁍 𝐬𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐬
their angel | summary: bucky and steve have their sights set on you to be the third element to their relationship. you’re flawless in their eyes. their perfect angel. how long will it take for you to accept them? (3/?) ♞ ✮ ✧
the baron, baroness and their prince | summary: a collection of fics revolving around a relationship between helmut zemo, bucky barnes and you ♡ ❀ ✮
𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝘄𝗶𝗻𝘁𝗲𝗿 𝘀𝗼𝗹𝗱𝗶𝗲𝗿 𝘄𝗼𝗿𝗸𝘀
𑁍 𝐨𝐧𝐞-𝐬𝐡𝐨𝐭𝐬
little dove | summary: you’re winter’s little dove. and he’d do anything for you. ❀ ✮
𝗰𝗵𝗮𝗿𝗹𝗲𝘀 𝗯𝗹𝗮𝗰𝗸𝘄𝗼𝗼𝗱 𝘄𝗼𝗿𝗸𝘀
𑁍 𝐨𝐧𝐞-𝐬𝐡𝐨𝐭𝐬
only good girls | summary: where you break charles’ most important rule despite knowing better. he does not take it lightly. ✧
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bvccy · a day ago
Nothing to Despair | 23. Behold my soul's true face
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: This chapter has a lot angst. It gets very dark, so if you’re easily depressed, be careful. But we finally learn why the reader has been this way the whole time. And, on a more positive note, SHE SAYS IT 🥰😭 Oh, and if you're confused about the French quote, notes are on AO3 but basically it's from an Edith Piaf song.
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Because thou hast the power and own'st the grace To look through and behind this mask of me (Against which years have beat thus blanchingly With their rains), and behold my soul's true face. — Elizabeth Barrett Browning, Sonnet 39
They were still holding hands as they closed the door in the evening, and before she could go further into the room, Bucky pulled her back for a quick peck on the lips. She smiled and cupped his face, then went to take her clothes off. He started undressing too, slow and distracted by the sight of her. His little wife was more than half done when she noticed him still mostly clothed and biting his lip in his typically suggestive way. In just the lingerie he so enjoyed, she sauntered over, and his hands fell limp with distraction. He'd taken his shirt and shoes off, but not much else.
"Is it worth asking what you want to do this evening?"
"How about we skip everything and go straight to bed, doll?"
"If we go to bed now, we'll just wake up at around midnight."
Bucky hummed and pretended to think, as she unclasped his belt and pulled it out. "That would be horrible. What could we possibly do then?"
She looked up through her lashes as she slowly unbuttoned his trousers and eased them off his hips. "I want you," she said, surprising both of them, then admitted sweetly further, "I want you all the time."
His lips parted in a gasp with a hundred words ready to come out, but none were good enough. He kissed her breathlessly, and as his clothes fell to the floor, Bucky stepped out of them and took her body with him. His hand slipped between her legs to find her feverishly hot and pulsing. She gasped into his chest, he groaned, and with the other hand pulled her closer.
Bucky walked her to an armchair and eased her into it while he carefully took her clothes off too, petting her skin after each clasp was undone and garment slipped off. The light stockings, the garters, the silk and lace top, none of them were so form-fitting that they'd press into her skin. They would hang off her shoulders and the edges of her hips and never left a mark at the end of the day, but he still liked to ease her out of them, gently and with all the attention her skin deserved. She bruised easily, he'd noticed — often because of him, specifically the metal arm, but she didn't seem to mind, even though it drove him mad with worry and shame — so he took care to unwrap her like a gift. Bucky held her thigh in his hands and kissed it, inhaling her skin still warm and smelling distractingly sweet, then her knees, then all along her waist, and up each shoulder, up the neck, the jaw, and finally to the reward of her lips.
By the time he was done, her eyes were glassy and her breath shallow, breasts blushing at the tips, just barely touched but much admired and teased through glances, and yearning for affection. With him still kneeling in front of her, she slipped off the armchair and straight into his arms, her legs resting on either side of him on the floor, and loosely hugged his neck. Bucky wrapped his arms around her and swung them together, slowly, side to side. His hard hot member brushed against her stomach, but suddenly it didn't matter. The girl kissed his neck and he heard her breathe in, as drunk on him as he was on her and feeling happy, safe, at home. He kept them like that, his flesh hand petting her hair along her back and her swinging in his arms, until he felt something in her shift with a sudden thought.
"Darling?" she whispered, her grip still around him, chin resting on his shoulder.
"I've been thinking… Do you really want, you know, with me, or…?"
Bucky pulled back enough to look at her. "You're going to have to be more specific than that, doll."
She bit her lip tightly as she searched his face, his smile a bit tensed with worry but grey eyes still soft. "Do you really want us to have a baby?"
"Not just one," he smiled, shaking his head slowly. "At least five," and he saw the dawning realisation on her face. "Come on, let's not talk about this on the floor." Before she could say anything else he lifted her, her legs hanging off his metal arm and her hands holding on to his neck as he carried her to bed. He laid her down carefully and curled up beside her, covering them both with the sheets.
"So you remember?" she asked once he'd settled in. Even she had almost forgotten about that conversation, so it was a surprise to be reminded of it by him.
"You say you can't figure out how to be happy, but you knew, sweetheart. I thought about it too, and you were right," he sighed happily, caressing her temple and brushing her hair behind her ear. "You're always right, you're so clever, darling."
"It would be perfect. You won't think these thoughts that upset you anymore, and you won't have to worry about a thing, because I'll take care of you. I'll take care of everything."
"But what if it doesn't work?" she asked with slight panic.
"It's worked for thousands of women before, doll, why wouldn't it work for you?" He was thinking of his mother but not just, and in that moment he only realised, once more, how right she'd been. Worrying came easily to her, and the solution she'd found for it was good in every way, but now that he was the one to bring it up, she doubted.
"No, it's going to end up horribly, and then you'll hate me…" she muttered, more to herself but loud enough for him to hear.
Bucky pulled himself closer to her on the bed and clasped her jaw, tilted her sad face up to look at him. "It's going to be fine. Have some confidence in me, that I'm going to make it fine even when it isn't."
"It won't last… I'll be a burden."
For a second, Bucky wondered if she was really talking about herself or about him, deep down. It's not like he wasn't familiar with feeling like a burden too, like he wasn't worth the effort to dig him out of his misfortunes, and all his past and present woes seemed to hang as heavy as the earth. They were alike in so many ways, but the sweetest ones were the things that made them both unhappy — the rarest, the most difficult, the pinpoints of why they were the way they were and how they got that way. And yet, he was afraid to tell her that that was part of why he loved her. He didn't want her to see him half as badly as she saw herself, or have her pity, or see her feeling sorry for him.
"I don't mind. I can take it," he said instead, keeping his hand firm and heavy on her jaw, reminding her that he was there, stubborn and relentless. There was no point pretending it would be easy, she'd spot his lies in a second, but he didn't need to lie about this. "Nothing's easy all the time, but you're worth the work it takes," said Bucky, and finally she looked at him. Her jaw was clenched, lips pressed together tightly. He could only guess at all the things she was holding in, and though he felt so much slip away from him and he wanted to unclasp her again, he held her as she was — timid and hidden and hard as marble. "You're worth the work it takes to love you."
It hurt her a little to hear the admission that it was some work at all, but his honesty helped wash it away. It still made her brace herself to hear it, made her want to harden up against it and pull away, or push him off somehow. He might not understand it very well, but she could tell he saw it, and whether it hurt his feelings or not, she wasn't sure she wanted to know.
"Well, it takes no work for me," she smiled, trying out how it felt to admit it. Bucky grasped her meaning instantly and froze. Only his mouth moved, to smile, slowly and hopefully as he searched her eyes. Her hand came up to caress his cheek as she smiled back. With some stuttering and a mountain of fear, she eased it out through her lips. "I love you, too."
No amount of kisses would have felt enough to him, so instead he wrapped her in his arms and pulled her close, cradling her to his heart as her fingers threaded around the back of his head. "You really do?" he asked as he rested his cheek on top of her head.
"I do. It's just hard for me to say… to hear it."
"Can you say it again?" asked Bucky, instantly a bit regretful of how selfish he was, but more greedy now than ever.
His wife smiled and slinked her way up his body, held his head still in her hands, mouthed right against his lips "I love you," and ended it with a chain of kisses. They parted with a sigh and she said it again, imperceptibly quiet but letting him feel every word move against him, "I love you." Bucky rolled onto his back with her still kissing him, his arms tight around her. She smiled into the kisses and kept her eyes closed, enjoying the proof of the feelings she gave him. When she raised herself from him, just barely, she hummed with satisfaction at seeing him all ruffled and flushed, lips even more full and pink than usual, his eyes crinkled happily.
"I'm so sorry, doll… I feel like the lowest bastard on earth when I pressure you like this."
"Bucky, no…" she said lowering her hands to cup his cheeks, trying to brush the care away from his brow with her thumbs.
"I know I don't make a very good husband for you," he admitted. She stayed quiet and listened to him, finally hearing what had been worrying him for days, weeks, when he tossed and turned and couldn't sleep. "I guess I made a picture in my head of what you're like, and I keep looking for it, but I never stop to think about what you want, or how much you want to give. Too greedy," he grinned half-heartedly.
"I suppose that's partly my fault…"
"No, honey."
"Maybe I led you on sometimes. I just wanted you to like me," she shrugged.
He held her by the shoulder and raised himself a bit. Leaning back against the pillows, he pulled her to rest against his chest and pet her cheek, making her look at him. Her leg curled around him beneath the sheets and his knee bent to make room for her, comfortable and uncaring of his arousal, seeking only to be closer. "Well, you know I like you now," he said with a soft smile.
"It's not that simple," she winced, and slowly caressed his neck as she thought of what to say. "I hate it, because I think that you don't mean it. I hear something nice, and immediately I feel like you're just saying that to get what you want. That you're lying deliberately, and then I just get angry."
"But I do mean it, I mean it every time."
"Prove it," she said, and all he could do was stare mutely back. "When you say you feel something, take the feeling out and show it to me. You can't." Slowly, he began to understand. "That's why I can't stand hearing it. All I have is what's in my head, and what's in my head is always against me."
Bucky rested his hand on the back of her head while she cuddled into him. The thoughts were still running through her mind, but she couldn't put it more clearly than that, and now he was thinking too. Her words shaped a lens for him to look through.
"Don't mean to diminish what you just told me, doll, but I can relate."
"How do you mean?" she quietly asked.
"What you said about your head being against you…"
"Oh. I know what happened to you is much more serious, I didn't mean it like that, but…"
"No, it's fine," he kissed the top of her head. "You always surprise me, you know that? You'd say something and it reminds me of things I thought… maybe five months ago. Or you put into words something I remember feeling, but never noticed until you said it." She looked up at him and tilted her head curiously. "Maybe that doesn't make much sense. Forget it."
"No, I understand. I know what it's like."
"You do?"
She bit her lip and nodded, but behind it was measuring her words. "I want to go wash up before bed…"
"No, tell me first," Bucky insisted, smiling to encourage her. "You've got me curious now."
"You might not like what you hear," she smirked.
"Try me."
She worried at her lip for a while, before she slowly started. "I know what you're referring to. It's very difficult to describe, it's a very specific feeling…"
"I've experienced it too, sometimes, from things you've said. But mostly… You remember Professor Althaus?" Bucky immediately groaned, and she laughed. "I felt that a lot because of him. The things he said, the way he said them. They addressed so precisely what I thought, or felt."
"Should've killed him when I had the chance," he muttered. Her hot palm settled on his chest and she waited for him to relax beneath her again. He stared down at the girl and clenched his jaw, but something in the way she looked at him gave him pause.
"I was quite pathetic before I met him," she began. "He said things I needed to hear. He gave me courage. I wish you could have met him too, he's so —"
"He manipulated you, doll."
"He tricked you into joining that cult of murderers."
"You won't speak badly of him," she insisted, raising herself half-way up. "He did more good for me than you can ever know."
Bucky clearly had much more to say, but bit his tongue and glowered in silence. His young wife sat up next to him against the pillows and, throwing her legs across his, curled up against him in that way, head resting on his shoulder.
"I know you're all upset and pouty —"
"I am not pouty."
"— but you didn't know me. You don't know what I was like."
He thought back to his days then, when he was still the Winter Soldier and there was no trace of Bucky. He was a mindless servant, an assassin, a weapon aimed and fired on Hydra's targets. Some of them deserved it, some of them didn't. It was for the best that the Soldier hadn't met her then.
"The Professor… he would fire up inside you that which was neglected, which was at the core. Which gave meaning. Which gave life." She cuddled closer, and he turned to look at her. Her eyes were looking forward, thinking back. "Before I met him, I felt like there was no point to anything. I was homesick and I hated everything around me, and all the people too. I couldn't stand to see them, or hear them, and it seemed I would be stuck there forever. I felt so… so…"
"Yes. You do understand, don't you?"
"Of course I do, sweetheart," he sighed and brought her hand up to kiss it.
"I had nothing to look forward to, except growing old and sick, and dying alone. I resented my parents for making me. I didn't want to die, not necessarily. I just wanted… like you that one time: to not exist." He covered her hand with his, clasping it in both flesh and metal, but her fingers had gone limp. "I knew mother would be upset if I did something stupid, but sometimes I felt really, really desperate. There was this river that ran through town and —"
"Ok, don't say any more," said Bucky before thinking, but she didn't seem offended, and continued with the same calm.
"But then, some friends and I went to listen to the Professor give a lecture at his house," she said with a tilted smile. "All of us were a bit eccentric, or a bit crazy. All of us unhappy. He picked us up, out of that puddle, and got us to look upwards if only momentarily. He gave us a feeling of hope, of courage, of utter ruthlessness. I'd never heard anyone talk like that — especially not to me, as a girl. He got us to see the truth… about life."
"Yeah, and what's that?" he asked, looking at her a bit askance.
"That the highest expression of nature is human thought. Which means that we have to take that which makes us unhappy, that we feel uncomfortable with, and however… stunted we've been by life, to change it, to turn it around on itself. To step over everything that is beneath us. Above all, to avoid resentment and self-pity."
She was completely distracted from him, lost in her recollection. Bucky wasn't sure what to think of this Professor anymore, but if he was half as charismatic as she made him out to be, he was a dangerous agent. He was grateful he'd never met the man, especially in those times when he had needed to hear things like that, and he was twice as happy that Steve never did. That speech seemed tailor-made for his friend's sense of courage, and distantly Bucky wondered — with a great deal of amusement — why he seemed to surround himself with mad little spitfires like her and Steve.
"I can't describe what it felt like. I can't do it justice. You know how rare and strange it is when you experience that feeling with me: imagine that for a full hour, every week. So, you see…" she ended, looking down at their shared hands, hers weak with emotion, and measuring her words, finished "I'm glad you didn't complete your mission."
That looming realisation struck, and Bucky didn't know what to say anymore. If he had killed Althaus, she might have gone and done something stupid… but she never would have worked for Hydra. Which meant he never would have met her, never would have come to love her, never would have married her and been on the way to starting a family with her. All because of one missed shot. He couldn't help but think about the odds of it and what, if anything, it meant.
"You didn't join Hydra because you had money problems," he said after a brief silence.
"No," she answered resolutely. "Mother did need the money, but I joined because the Professor wanted me to. I would have done anything for him. Anything." What she left unsaid was that, she still would. "And I'm not sorry." She looked up at him with no hatred or resentment, but no hint of giving ground either.
"Is that why you hated me?" he asked as an afterthought. "Because I nearly killed your mentor?"
"No," she said, a bit surprised. "No, I knew it wasn't your fault. I never blamed you."
"Then why… why did…"
"Why was I so difficult?" she finished for him with a smirk. "I'm like that with everyone, I told you."
"It didn't feel like you didn't hate me, most of the time," he pointed out. "And that doesn't exactly answer my question." She turned her gaze away to look back down at their hands, at the bed, at anything but him. "I pulled out all the stops to make you like me," he continued, unrelenting. "I listened to you mope about other stupid guys, I got you flowers, I took you dancing, I got you everything you wanted, and I know it's not about that, but you must've known I wanted you… You can't pretend you didn't know."
"It's not as easy as you think."
"What then, you think I'm not capable of lovin'?"
"I'm sure you are," she said, without sounding particularly convinced.
"Do you think you don't deserve it, then? Is that it?"
"I… guess I never thought of it that way. I don't know."
"You don— ? Good grief, doll," he shook his head. "Do you doubt your mother loves you too?"
"No, I know she does," she muttered.
"And why can't you believe it when it comes from me?"
"Mothers have to love their children. But men don't really care for women, especially as we get older," she said with a tilted smile as she looked up through her lashes. "You'll get bored of me, eventually."
His every instinct told him to kiss that dark certainty away, and a deeper part of him wanted to slap her for saying it. But through all of it, Bucky held himself back and kept her talking, now that he'd just cracked her open. "It wasn't a lousy boyfriend that got you to think like this," his mouth asked without him. His question shocked her too, and she stilled beside him.
"I told you it wasn't."
"Was it your dad?" he asked, and when she wouldn't answer, he pressed her on. "It was, wasn't it?" She didn't move, but through the skin pressed to his side, he felt her body chill, hands and feet tight and tense and damp with cold sweat.
"I caught him once, with a woman," the girl finally said. "I must have been about 8, and I was very stupid and told mother about it. Or, maybe not stupid…" Bucky's hand tightened around her shoulder as he watched her remember, more sorry than ever that he'd asked about it, and amazed she was telling him at all. "I'd never seen her cry before. She looked so heartbroken I was afraid she'd die, and it was because of me. She didn't want to deal with it, so she left father and he kept the house for a while — moved to Vaduz with another of his whores eventually, but he lives there alone now. They all left him. We went first to some cousins abroad, and eventually mother found work in Switzerland," she sighed. "But she was so busy all the time, and always tired, always tired… She worked such long hours, I remember, and had to take care of me too. And she got so mad at me sometimes, when I didn't get good grades or didn't finish dinner or didn't go to sleep on time. I guess she was just stressed, but back then I was afraid she'd give me away to these horrible neighbours we had. She joked about it sometimes, when I was being bad…"
He tried not to interrupt her with any of his useless noises, but had to heave a sigh at that. Another tragedy in one long link, and from it he could trace so many of her mannerisms, all the withdrawal he faced from her — not from hatred, he saw now, but from that primitive fear of abandon. And distinctly he remembered that horrible evening when she saw him with Dolores — saw 'Marsden', really — and how sad and scared she looked, how small, as if a child again. No wonder she couldn't stand to look at him for hours afterwards…
"Instead, she sent me off to school in England. I was 12 by then. A weird girl from nowhere, with a funny accent, who hadn't made a friend in years. I had no idea how to be around them, I couldn't relate to any of those people." And he filled in the rest: she still couldn't.
How would he have turned out in her place? Bucky didn't even want to think about it. Without someone like Steve to link his old life back to, he might still belong to Hydra — like she did. More than ever before, he wanted to be a way out for her, to be all the loves and friendships that passed her by, to be everything for her. But, as if she read his mind, she added in a guilty whisper:
"So it's really not that there's something wrong with you. But if my own parent cared more about other women than he did for me and mother, to expect a stranger to be faithful seems… stupid, to me. And if it could happen to my mother, who is so much better than me, why wouldn't it happen to me too, you know? You understand, don't you?"
Bucky sighed and held her closer, but could not unclench his jaw. He did and didn't understand. It wasn't stupid to trust him, and he wasn't a stranger to her anymore, he was better than that, better than anyone she'd ever met. He sunk down into the sheets with her and held the girl to his chest, resting his cheek on the top of her head while his hand caressed her back. She felt raw and nervous and ready to run, but the worst of it was over, and though her eyes were dry, he could feel the quick sharp breaths that fanned across his skin. His hand came up to cradle her soft head and he whispered in her hair a promise.
"You won't have to worry about a thing, doll."
"That's what everyone says," she mumbled. "But you don't know how you'll feel in 5 years, in 10 years…"
"So what's your solution?" he gently asked.
"My solution was to be alone, but you took care of that," she quipped.
Bucky paused to think about what he wanted to suggest, to give himself some time to change his mind, but he felt all aflame at the thought of giving that to her and it felt, more than anything else, right.
"Tomorrow morning we're going to wake up, and go have breakfast, maybe have a walk outside if the weather's nice… And then we'll come back here, and I'm going to give you the words."
"I don't know how I'll teach you to say then, but we'll figure it out."
"Bucky, I can't do that," she said, bracing herself against him to look into his face.
"You want to trust me, and I want you to trust me too."
"But it isn't right, it isn't fair to you," she shook her head. "You'll be so sorry one day, please don't do it…"
He caressed her cheek through the dark and pulled her back against him calmly. "We'll talk about it tomorrow."
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She finished getting dressed while Bucky was still showering. There was an air of anxiety around the whole morning after what he told her the night before, but he seemed happy when they woke up together, and was very slow and gentle with his kisses while they were still in bed. The girl moved more slowly now, putting on some finishing touches in front of the mirror, a bit of makeup, a bit of perfume, even that necklace that he liked so much. She was just fixing up her hair when Bucky came out, half-dressed in just his shirt and trousers. His wife smiled at him from her seat, but she didn't even try to hide her tension. He leaned against the doorframe to watch her, arms crossed to hold himself back, looking as smug and satisfied as he usually did when he saw again the proof that she was his.
"We'll go out for breakfast now?" she asked.
"There's just one thing," he started, looking down in thought. "It's kind of stupid, but I thought we should —"
"It's not stupid," she said, turning in her seat to face him. "Tell me."
Bucky stayed where he was and shifted on his feet, his arms around him now a bit more tight, shirt straining around him with a few deep breaths. "I just need to know you won't be in touch with Hydra anymore. I mean I know you won't, but it's… it would make me feel better if you said it."
She looked down to her lap once but it didn't take a second for her to think it through. "I promise I won't, not without your permission," she nodded as she looked into his eyes.
Her addition surprised him a bit, but he was satisfied and even, oddly, pleased. She'd thought through all eventualities, even if they needed to use some old contacts she had — not that Bucky would ever agree to it, but he was proud that his girl thought of everything. He went to her and half-kneeled in front of her primly sitting form, and took her hands in his, flesh and metal both.
"That's all I needed to hear," he smiled, making her smile too and breathe a sigh of relief. "You won't need them for anything anymore. Not Hydra, not that Althaus…"
She nodded quietly as she searched his eyes, her shoulders slightly tense with unshed guilt. "Don't get me wrong, I still don't like SHIELD…"
"I know," he chuckled. "I can't exactly blame you."
"And I can't betray those people who've helped me in the past, however flawed or evil. Like I wouldn't do it to you, either."
He nodded more quietly, unhappy but, in spite of himself, understanding. "I know…"
Her hand tightened around his flesh one, and she brought it up to give him one warm kiss of gratitude. "Thank you, sweetheart. I knew you'd understand. They just… provided me with strength and comfort when I really needed it."
"But from now on, you'll get comfort from me. Won't you?" he rasped, his cold eyes focused on her as he let their joined hands fall back together on her lap.
"I guess it's just enough that you love me no matter what I think or do. Don't you?"
"Don't care if I end up regretting it, but I do," Bucky grinned.
She did what she usually did when she was afraid of smiling too widely, she bit her lower lip so tight it trembled, but her face was brighter and more vulnerable than he had ever seen. In a heartbeat, she slipped off the chair and kneeled on the floor right alongside him, wrapping her arms around his neck as they swung together in a tight embrace.
"You make me so happy," she whispered, and if it wasn't right by his ear, Bucky would not have even caught it. "I am so grateful for you. And I'm sorry for everything I've done, but —"
"None of that," he said and kissed her cheek. "If anything were different, anything at all…"
"You're right," she whispered back as his words sank in. "It's better like this. I regret nothing."
"That's my best girl," he grinned.
She nuzzled his neck and comforted herself with the clean scent of him, fingers threading through his still damp hair without a thought, and giggled as she remembered one old song that fit. "Ni le bien, ni le mal."
"My little legionnaire," Bucky chuckled, recognising it from those history lessons Steve had him take.
She pulled back to brush her lips to his and teased him. "At least it's a step up from 'sausage'."
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They had the warmest, softest, richest breakfast together, with fresh pastries and coffee and cream. They topped it off with cupcakes, and were not too shy to share them with each other, with Bucky gripping her wrist when she brought it to his lips and holding her still until he was done licking her fingers. The weather was nice that day, so they did take a walk, keeping far from the pools and outdoor bars and clinging to each other, stopping now and then for a brief kiss when the mood struck them. They found a row of seats to lounge on and sat in one together, his wife sitting in his lap with her fingers brushing his hair ruffled from the currents, while Bucky held her other hand and kissed it, paying special attention to the wedding ring.
"You know, I like that you're so pretty," she said at one point. She looked at his profile with a smug little smile as he looked into the calm horizon.
"Oh really?" he chuckled and turned to her with surprise.
She hummed and nodded, tracing the line of his full lips with her finger. "I wouldn't mind it if you weren't, but it makes me even more proud that you're mine."
His eyes twinkled as he pressed his lips into a kiss before her finger moved away. "Think we'd make pretty babies?" he husked with a smirk.
"Absolutely." She wrapped her arms around him and leaned her head on top of his while he held her by the waist, his nose nudging her neck now and then when he left kisses on the exposed top of her collarbone. "Can I tell you something?" she asked after a while, with somewhat girlish cheer, as if remembering something.
"Of course, doll."
"In all our fairy-tales, in all the folklore, there's this idea that beauty chases demons away. It's why it's so important for us that buildings are nice, that streets are nice, and clothes, and people, and sights, and sounds — not just music, but simple things too, like bell chimes or laughter."
"That's not very fair though, people grow old and ugly," he chuckled. "You don't think old people are evil, do ya?"
"No, of course not. That's why you try to be pretty when you're young. Because by the time you're old, you've chased the devils away. You see?"
"Clever," Bucky laughed. "And what about evil pretty people?"
"It's not enough to look it, of course," she hummed as she remembered more. "We have fairy tales about that, too. How you speak can be ugly, what you do to others can be ugly. What you do with yourself can be ugly."
He kissed his way from her clavicle up her neck and ended at her cheek. "And how does my pretty girl square that with how naughty she's been?" he asked in a heated whisper.
She knew he wasn't playing, she could tell he meant her work for Hydra, even through the covering of sweet and gentle kisses — his attempt to make her know he loved her still. "I don't know what you mean, Sarge," the girl purred with a stretch that didn't even try to mask her rubbing up against him, as she slipped her hands around his shoulders.
"What do you mean 'what do I mean'? Look at you, you're being naughty right now," he smirked, then moaned and gripped her waist to still her when it got to be too much. "Don't do this to me in public, doll," he growled. It also hadn't escaped him that this was the first time she used his rank.
"You think…" she whispered in a tone of fake surprise, leaning closer while she pressed down on his lap, "that I've been bad?"
"Oh I know you have been," he husked against her mouth, their lips barely touching. "They're bad people, I don't care what you say," though at that point he didn't seem to have any place left in him for hatred. "They didn't deserve you, babydoll. Pure evil's what they are, always have been."
"I don't accept that at all," she said, tilting her head teasingly and swinging her legs in a way that made him groan with pleasure. "You know, where I come from we don't have a concept of pure evil. There's only of pure good."
"That so?"
"Mhmm" his wife murmured before rewarding him with a kiss. "And in a world where pure good exists, there can be no pure evil. None of the imps and devils are as bad as the fairy-tale hero first fears."
"You think that's true?" asked Bucky, between a few more stolen kisses.
"Yes I do." She pet the back of his head while she got lost in the sky-grey of his eyes, then added, giggling, "My knight in shining arm."
"And what are you? My mighty steed?" he smirked.
His wife gasped and pulled away but couldn't wipe off a traitorous grin. Showing no regret at all, Bucky laughed and added as an afterthought:
"I do love riding you."
She smacked him on the shoulder lightly, and her cheeks hurt from trying so hard not to laugh with him.
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Welcome to the Panic Room
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Summary: the Winter Soldier finds something interesting in you, and so he decides to take you away and spare your life. On the other hand, you hoped to die. 
Words: 754 Warnings: implied future non con, non con touching, anxiety, kidnapping. Only +18, no minors are allowed to read. If you do not feel safe with these warnings, please do not read. Every comment, reblog, like or ask is fully appreciated. <3 Masterlist | Dark!Bucky Barnes New Dark Fiction
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"What are you doing?" you asked terrified, observing the figure that loomed more and more on yours. You had your wrists tied behind your back and awakened in a place you didn't know, with a plain dirty floor and an old mattress in the center of the room you were currently crawling on.
You remembered your place of business again hours before: you weren't an important member of that organization, and that probably saved your life. But now, you'd rather be dead like all those the winter soldier killed in front of you. You desperately looked into his icy eyes, looking for any sign of compassion or pity, but there was nothing. There was only that indecipherable look, different from that murderous and calculating look he wore in that building, now destroyed by what would surely pass as an accidentally caused fire.
And you would have been considered dead in that fire, you knew that. You felt the anxiety devour you from within and you thought your heart would explode at moments from how hard it was beating. You kept sobbing and your body was shaking violently, and the tears just didn't stop. You opened your mouth to scream as you saw the soldier, still soaked in the blood of those men, lower to your level. He was still holding that damn mask up and showing you only his long wavy hair and those eyes of his. You refused to observe it, you could not, the terror paralyzed you on the spot.
He did not like it. You felt an iron grip in your hair that made you scream in pain as he forced you to look up. With his other hand, however, he took off that mask. You couldn't help but beg for mercy when you saw a small smile adorn his face. He looked soft and sweet, but you knew it better: you had heard the bones of those men crack from his vibrating arm and all those shots. You felt them, they were in your head. "I won't hurt you." he muttered softly, and sounded fucking crazy. You thought he really lost it. You tried to catch your breath as he, to your surprise, he began to free your aching and certainly bruised wrists from the tight rope. You sniffed at him, scrutinizing his face carefully. Then, you tried to get away from too much proximity. You had it a few millimeters from your face and it was too close.
That little smile disappeared in a short time, and instead of him continuing to advance towards you, he decided to hold you under his weight and force you to lie down. He gave a satisfied sigh and a small moan as he felt your breasts meet his still covered chest. At that moment you desperately began to struggle, trying to push him away and scratch him. You got a strong slap in response and a split lower lip. You tasted your own blood, but apparently there was someone else who was curious to taste it. You watched the soldier approach without hesitation, sucking on his lower lip. His hands gripped your hips in such a dangerous way that you feared what would happen next. "You said you wouldn't hurt me." you whispered shortly after the soldier walked away. Then, he smiled faintly at you, this time with more irony and malice. "You're right, but if you misbehave you don't give me much choice." his answer only made you whimper. His eyes were watching you carefully, and at the moment the soldier was interested that you hadn't opened your eyes. You were keeping them tightly closed, but you would not have left that room, not even with your mind.
A subtle idea crossed his mind. He began to let his hands wander over your body, savoring its curves, lingering on your breasts and inner thighs. Oh, how he came dangerously close to that sweet spot, and his senses of him even felt your arousal. He licked his lower lip, then leaned over and kissed you with burning passion. He knew from the first moment that he couldn't kill you, it would be a waste. Besides, he deserved an award for all those missions. He groaned at the heat that you emitted and that pathetic struggle that you put into action every time. He made him damn horny, which the soldier shouldn't have done. Yet he was doing it. And he would do a lot more once he tore those clothes off you.
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overwhelmedsupernova · 2 days ago
Masterlist: Memories (Dark! Bucky Barnes x reader)
Summary:  You were just one of the many victims of the Winter Soldier, and you fought desperately to erase that memory from your head. You thought you no longer had to deal with that killer who, for whatever reason, left you alive. Soon, you find yourself facing the same man who once threatened your existence. As you struggle to forget, Bucky instead tries to redeem himself for what he did and soon realizes he has a second chance, with you.
Status: ongoing
Chapter 1: Passion for Details. 
Chapter 2: Remember. (soon)
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overwhelmedsupernova · 2 days ago
Memories. (Dark! Bucky Barnes x reader)
Chapter 1: Passion for Details. 
⌜ •   °    +   °   •   ⌝
Summary: You were just one of the many victims of the Winter Soldier, and you fought desperately to erase that memory from your head. You thought you no longer had to deal with that killer who, for whatever reason, left you alive. Soon, you find yourself facing the same man who once threatened your existence. As you struggle to forget, Bucky instead tries to redeem himself for what he did and soon realizes he has a second chance, with you.
Words: 2066.
Warnings: anxiety, trauma. Other chapters will be darker, I'll put warnings in every single chapter for safety. This is going to get really dark. +18 only, no minors are allowed here. If you do not feel safe with these warnings, please DO NOT read. Please leave feedback. <3
⌞ °   •    +   •   °   ⌟
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You were still running, but the walls seemed to get tighter and tighter. The ceiling was covered in paintings, such a marvel you couldn't pay attention to. Ironic, isn't it?
 Before, when you entered that building, you felt like a sense of peace to see all those beautiful details, the beauty of the architecture and the pillars that supported the structure. You found you were one of the few to truly appreciate what you thought was a work of art, while people passed indifferently by your side. 
A second later, you heard a wall crack and gunshots. You only turned around for a few seconds, and saw a masked man with a metal arm. He had turned to you, just for a few seconds, but it was enough to get you to run. You could hear the struggle of armed men trying to hold him back desperately, to defend themselves or at least to escape. You didn't care how it ended, but you could guess from the ceasing of their screams and quick steps. You felt immense pain in your legs and feet, mostly caused by work heels, as you continued running for your life. 
You left your little black suitcase behind and started running for your life, heedless of all those little angels on the ceiling who now seemed to be turning their compassionate gaze to your little human figure. Because deep down, you were human. And that man, on the other hand, judging by his speed, was anything but human.
You screamed when you heard shots getting closer and closer. By now your vision was completely blurred with tears, but you couldn't stop, even when you risked stumbling absentmindedly. Then, you felt a bump, an almost unbearable pain in your back.
Your voice caught in your throat as your entire body was thrown towards a wooden door not far from you, the way you considered safe. You coughed, bringing your hand to your split lip and finally wiping the tears away as you watched the hellish scene ahead. 
By now they were all gone and the same men who were alive not even 10 minutes ago and quietly talking, lay on the luxurious ground in their own blood. You started hyperventilating, then looking at the man in front of you. Those same blue eyes were staring at you, and they were terrifying. You've shrunk, crawling miserably to that same door and desperately trying to get away, even though you've come to the limit. Instead, he began to approach, keeping his gaze fixed on you. He was looking at you almost curiously, but you could better see the glacial glow in his eyes. You could almost feel a mocking smile on his face, but looking back, how could such a man even have expressions? His footsteps became heavier and heavier and stopped right above your figure, dominated by his height. You stared at the gun he was still holding with wide eyes. And right after that, you looked down.
You never wanted your killer to be the last thing you ever saw. That moment was the demonstration of how terror could take your body and possess it. You waited for your death, only to see the crouching figure of him. He moved closer and you felt him handle with his mask, but you refused to look at him, already feeling his breath on your neck. "Keep your head down, don't provoke him." you thought desperately, and so you did. On the other hand, he saw such a... obedient little thing. He should have killed you without hesitation, you had seen too much. But he knew that somehow you would never talk, he saw it from the way you desperately cared about your life, from the way you avoided him as if he were already part of your daily nightmares. He shook a lock of hair from your face, almost smiling at the way you visibly winced.
"Please..." you just muttered, feeling the pressure now crush your body. And he could feel it too, he could sense how your anxiety was able to crush your entire being: he knew it gave effect to people, like pure terror or chilling pain, but that went further. He was torturing you psychologically with the mere presence of him and he was enthralled. The soldier liked it, he liked you. He got up again and in that exact moment you thought he was going to finally kill you. All your dreams, your efforts, your memories, all erased. Then, finally, nothing came. Only his heavy footsteps go away as the police sirens got closer and closer.
That was three years ago.
A few months after that tragic event, which you never told anyone about, claiming that you hid in the room behind the wooden door, you started going to therapeutic sessions. There were constant nightmares, you saw those glacial eyes everywhere and you felt that sanity was slowly slipping away from your body. You found yourself for the umpteenth night to keep your body studded with sobs. You had certain crises where you remembered, and you didn't want to remember, but you did it anyway: it was like an obsessive thought, you spent all day trying not to think about it, but then it reappeared. 
His imposing figure reappeared, that thrill you had felt when you felt his breath on your neck, those eyes. You still remembered everything and just wanted to forget, and move on. Apparently no one knew, no one knew him. Then, you reviewed it in a newspaper. It was then that you started dragging yourself up the stairs of your apartment building, desperately trying to contain the tears and sobs as the newspaper tumbled down the stairs. You had found his face on the front page, and you could recognize those eyes and that long hair everywhere. It was him, you knew that. You didn’t care about the old new reported or the article itself, the picture was just more than enough to let you down. He would finally come for you. You have finally reached the door of your apartment, closing it quickly behind you. You inhaled slowly, then turned to the living room. It was all empty, as you had left it, every single thing. You tried to do one of the therapist's recommended exercises to calm you down, while you started to approach the window in the meantime. It was too cold, you had to close it.
Close it? You never opened it. You instantly froze in your footsteps, staring at the road ahead of you. You were a forgetful person and sometimes it happened that you forgot something, and that was why I had so many doubts about it: every time you thought that he had finally come to get you, to complete that puzzle of blood and murder. But every time nothing happened. 
You tried to suppress the instinct that screamed desperately at you to trust you, but you knew better: you couldn't trust yourself, not anymore. Your own mind was in his hands, but you were working on it. You had improved so much according to your therapist, you shouldn't have backed down now. With these thoughts you then shook your head, simply closing the window and deciding to make your favorite tea. 
It would certainly have helped you. You started humming your favorite song, trying to get back into the everyday sphere, in your comfort zone. Calm, relaxation and tranquility. You just needed that to recover, right? Yet those memories continued to bewitch your head, and there was nothing you could really do despite your best efforts. 
You did not know, however, that you yourself had bewitched another mind, one that had not yet forgotten the fear imprinted on your half-covered face and your devastated body. - Bucky sighed, looking at the apartment building in front of him. He ran his hand, the flesh one, through her short hair, thinking what a bad idea it was. He simply wanted to disappear and instead he found himself living with several people in the same building. After all, however, it was the best choice, he knew it. Maybe he wouldn't have intrusive neighbors, maybe he could get a single miserable word out. Maybe, he could prove that he really was Bucky again. He took a deep breath and walked with a single suitcase to the front door with the new keys, then watched the stairs. His apartment was 305. he remembered it was on the first floor, easy enough to reach. He began to walk and look at the numbers on the doors, placed in order.
The door suddenly swung open, and he saw a girl come out. Suddenly she tensed as she noticed how tense, almost terrified, she looked. Scared? Heck, she was going to go against her, maybe he was the one to take a hit. Well, maybe, if he was more... normal. She still looked upset when she finally looked at him and she promptly apologized, gesturing and talking about how she thought something had come. Something? He just wanted to raise an eyebrow in response, but she couldn't shake off a strange feeling. "Don't worry. I'm new here and, um... it looks like you're next to me. Pleased to meet you, I'm Bucky." he tried to seem as free as possible in speaking and to show one of his best expressions. He was trying, really, but there was something dead in your face. He then focused on your hesitant gaze, grabbing the hand he had gently given you. It was only a second, but that touch somehow pushed him back. Without even noticing, he frowned and at your embarrassed smile he realized that he wasn't even paying attention to you for several minutes. Great, he had already made an embarrassing figure. He cleared his throat, waving his hand briefly and walking past you without too many pretensions, then arriving at the door of his apartment. Once inside, he locked himself in and leaned against the door, then closed his eyes and that frown reappeared. Something seemed to be wrong with him, especially with you. Maybe you were in trouble and he could help you, even if he wasn't in the mood to babysit. However, after all it was a pretext to finally be able to start over, get to know at least one person, add a contact to his phone in addition to that of the psychologist who was obligatorily contacting and who followed him to constantly check his status. He opened his eyes again, inhaling slowly and letting his muscles relax a little. Still, his mind couldn't move you. On the other hand, your mind had a tender passion for details, especially those blue eyes. You heard heavy footsteps coming up the stairs, those same damned footsteps, and without thinking you headed out the door, throwing it open and looking down the halls. It was only after you turned around and almost tripped over the stranger, to whom you later apologized. You were looking for him, you told him casually and only later did you realize your mistake. But it was as if his eyes had cleared up, as if he wasn't that brutal killer: yet he had those eyes, a different glow, but it was still him. It was impossible not to recognize that body and even if with short hair, your mind had a strange passion for details, which was why you had no doubts. He hadn't spoken that day, so you couldn't tell if it was really him from the voice, but this time you were sure. Your whole body froze in place, but when you noticed his questioning look and that suspicion in his eyes, you decided to start your own game. A sort of hide and seek, because if he really remembered you he would have killed you instantly. He said his name was Bucky, but you remembered him as the Winter Soldier. This was for you, even in your nightmares, where he ended his mission. When he left without too many pretexts, you released that great sigh filled with anguish that you were holding back. You stood in that corridor, eyes wide open. You didn't know how or why, but he didn't remember you. You had noticed that trace of suspicion, but you had played well, maybe you were safe. Or maybe, this was going to be the start of a long game of cat and mouse.
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gwenavibra · 4 days ago
Friendly neighbor
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r. neighbor!bucky barnes x dark!reader | w. 3.2k | cw. nsfw 18+, minors dni, smut, drugs, alcohol, stalker behavior, reader is a little crazy, bucky doesn't even flinch tho, dd/lg, kidnap, poisoning someone [no one dies], use of handcuffs, mentions of violence.
note. hey lovies. first, the entire fic is one big warning, please proceed with caution. if you don't feel comfortable with dark topics, please don't read. I hope you like this, let me know what you think. as always, be nice and tomen agüita💋
summary. Bucky learns that not everything is at it seems, and his friendly little neighbor may be hiding more than he imagines.
DO NOT repost, translate or copy in any way my work. these are my babies, treat them as such and respect them (and me).
send in your request | add yourself to my taglist
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The little town of Westview was nothing if not homey. The people were so nice, most of them had never left the town, but were always open to receive outsiders. You had moved here about six months ago, bought a nice little house with a garden to take care of, enough space for a home office, a lovely kitchen and the hottest neighbor one could ask for. Bucky Barnes was the number one mechanic in town, he had a shop not long from your house and you could swear, every time that man showed up riding his bike it was like the universe was laughing at you. Not only the man had the body of a god, he was also the sweetest person you’ve ever met in your life.
Bucky was the first one to welcome you to the neighborhood; you had been unpacking your boxes from the moving truck when he approached you. He had just come from work, his skin glowed with sweet and he smelled like leather and aftershave and you couldn’t help the appreciative look in your eyes as you roamed his body with your eyes. Sticking your tongue out, you licked your lower lip and Bucky followed the movement with his eyes. You could tell he also liked you, if not by the way his eyes lingered a little too long in your legs, by the way he grabbed your extended hand and flipped it so he could kiss your palm, sending shivers down your spine.
The little flirting game had been going on since that day; every morning before leaving for work Bucky would wave goodbye to you and every afternoon you would see him come home. No matter what you needed, he was always there. Something needed fixing around the house? He was your guy. After the incident when you slipped in the bathtub and dislocated your shoulder, he kept an extra eye on you, always making sure you were okay. In return, you would constantly take food over to his house. The man ate like a bear preparing for hibernation, you seriously had no idea how he was in such a good shape. But he loved everything you made; your baking specially. You took some brownies to a barbecue one of the neighbors hosted and Bucky demanded you made a whole batch just for him. You agreed, only if he would dance with you. And that he did, all night he waltz you around the little impromptu dance floor they set up. You’d never felt so happy, in the arms of the man you loved. There was no denying it, you were in love with Bucky Barnes. Which is why the fact of seeing him bringing some girl to his house one night hurt you like nothing else.
That was two weeks ago, Bucky had brought that girl back almost everyday for the past week and you were sick of it. At night the town got particularly quiet, which meant you could hear every noise coming from his house and just hearing her screechy voice screaming his name made you want to slid her throat open. You tried everything, loud music, meditation, noise cancelation headphones; just knowing she was there with him made something inside of you boiled with anger and you swore you’ve never hated anyone this much. Of course, it wasn’t enough to see her leave his house every morning, you also had to run into her at the worst time.
It was just a regular tuesday, you had gone to the supermarket to do some grocery shopping and of course the only cashier that was free was her. Tammy, that was her name. A blonde bimbo whose voice made your eyebrow twitch.
– Hey, I know you! Aren’t you Bucky’s neighbor? – mustering the best polite smile you could, you just nodded, trying to speed things up. Apparently, she had a different idea – He always talks about you! You just have to share some of your recipes with me, he adores your cooking – Over my dead body, you thought as you squinted your eyes and the smile in your face looked more threatening by the second.
For a moment you wondered what it would be like if you just took the credit card machine and shoved it down her throat. Bet that would shut her up. Given that you hadn’t said a word yet, and were just staring back a forth between her and the small device, Tammy was starting to feel uncomfortable and she didn’t understand why. Everyone had said you were so sweet, always helping around your neighbors, offering a smile and kind words to whoever may need it; this person in front of here was completely different and it scared her a little. Finishing faster than before, Tammy offered you the recipe and waved you goodbye as you walked away from her.
Soon, the days passed and a new town event was in full effect. As usual, you were in chart with the sweets, but since you needed to keep your hands busy from strangling a certain someone, you decided to help Earl with the drinks. Earl was a nice man, a little dumb and easily distracted, but he was respectful and making sure he didn’t mess anything up would help you ease your mind. Or so you hoped, and it was working, up until the moment the lovely couple from hell approached the tent. Now, a part of you knew this was wrong, but another one, the dominant one, thought it was only fair you had some fun after all the sleepless nights you’ve suffered lately. You knew by now she was wary at best with your attitude, so why not mess with her a little more? As you greeted both of them, you did your best to maintain the friendly smile you’ve been given to everyone all day. Not really interested in the small talk, you offered Bucky his drink and gave a different one to dear old Tammy.
– I hope you don’t mind, I made this especially for you. I just wanted to apologize for my attitude the other day, I was a little out of it and I’m afraid I may have scared you.
– You, doll? You wouldn’t scare a fly. – As Bucky chuckled under his breath your smile grew and you raised one eyebrow, your sight never leaving the blonde by his side. She had to take it, Bucky himself said it, you wouldn’t even scare a fly. You were the sweetest person, you would never do anything to harm her, right?
With a breathless little laugh, Tammy hesitantly took the drink, but didn’t do anything to taste it. You wouldn’t push, that would draw suspicions. So, you just wished them a good day and went on to attend to some new clients. However, you kept an eye on the couple and you couldn’t help to laugh when you saw Tammy sniffing the drink before taking a sip. The mental torture was fun enough, but the idea that her drink was filled with laxatives just added an extra kick, and when you saw her run towards the portable bathrooms, your day suddenly got better. Good thing was, in her rush, she actually dropped the cup to the floor, so all the evidence she could have to accuse you was splayed all over the grass. Not that it stopped her from accusing you to Bucky, which led to a fight. It was absurd, you would never do something like that. You were his angel… No, not his. Just, you were too pure for this world, you would never harm anyone.
Needless to say, Bucky defending you was not something Tammy needed at the moment. Specially after going to the hospital and her exams coming out clean. The doctor told her there wasn’t any substances in her blood other than the alcohol she admitted ingesting, much likely she just ate something that made her sick. However, she knew the truth. Bucky was tired of listening to her nag about you, so he told her it would be better for her to stay home that night, he needed some rest.
Meanwhile, you were sitting in your porch, enjoying the peace and quiet when the sound of his bike interrupted your train of thought. As he hopped off, you waved him a hello and he stopped a minute before approaching you. Talking to you always calmed him, and the last few weeks he’d barely even seen you. Supporting his weight in the rail, he leaned close to you and gave you a tired smile.
– Hey, angel. What are you doing up so late?
– Just wanted to enjoy the silent, it’s a beautiful night. Are you feeling okay? You seem upset
– ‘s nothing, don’t worry about it. You shouldn’t be alone out here at this hour, doll.
You shrugged your shoulders and focus on your feet swinging near the floor. He could tell something was bothering you, and he frowned as he walked around the rail to kneel in front of you and take your hands in his.
– Talk to me, sweets, what’s going on?
– You’re gonna think I’m dumb
– I would never think that about you, c’mon.
Taking a big inhale, you barely mumbled under your breath, but he couldn’t understand you. Seeing as you weren’t complying, he leaned into you and stared into your eyes. Oh my god, is this it? Is he going to kiss me? Yeah, no, think again. Bucky just wanted to get you to talk, and he thought the best torture technique would be tickling you until you gave up. You lasted a good 10 minutes before you couldn’t take it anymore.
– Fine! Ok! I can’t sleep in my room.
– And why is that, doll?
– I think there’s something wrong with my lamp, the other day it started to make weird sounds and it smelled like something was burning. I’m afraid to stay in there.
– Why didn’t you tell me that before?
– Well, you’ve been busy lately, it’s not like we’ve talked a lot.
As much as you tried to not let your jealousy show, he noticed and it made him smile. You were just too adorable.
– Let me take a look. If it’s too bad I can always come back in the morning and fix it for you.
– Oh, no. It’s too late and you look really tired, really, I don’t wanna be a bother.
– You could never bother me. Now, come on.
He had already done a few repairs around the house, so he knew exactly where everything was. As he made his way to your bedroom, you went to the kitchen to fix some lemonade for the both of you. When you went to give it to him, he had already taken off his jacket and was trying to figure out what the problem was.
– It may be some wiring problem, but I can’t really see it now. I think I’ll have to come back tomorrow with my tools and get a better look at it.
You agreed with him as you sipped your drink. Not long had passed before Bucky started to feel lightheaded. He stumbled a little in his feet and was trying to focus his eyesight, but everything was moving around him. He felt dizzy, like he was going to throw up. You quickly took the drink from his hand and helped him lay down on the bed before he blackout.
Slowly, Bucky’s senses were starting to wake up. He could smell your perfume and hear your low humming, he also notices he was naked, a little breeze ran through his body and made him shiver. When he tried to cover himself, though, he couldn’t move his arms. Opening his eyes, he saw they were chained to the bed he was currently sitting with his back against the headboard. The rattling of the cuffs against the iron alerted you of his awake state, making you come out of the bathroom. Another thing it took Bucky a moment to notice was that there was taped covering his mouth, so he couldn’t even speak.
– Oh, good, you’re awake! I was afraid the dose may have been a little too much, but hey, better safe than sorry, am I right?
Your soft smile alone with the innocent flicker of your eyes were a high contrast from this entire situation. However, being the man that he is, Bucky took a minute to run his eyes through your barely clothed body. You had taken off the summer dress you were previously wearing and the only thing covering you now was some lacy underwear that really did nothing to cover you up. He always wondered what you’d look like under your clothes, he never imagined this is how he would get to see you, though.
– Now, I know you probably are a little confused, but I assure you I mean no harm. You will always be safe with me, Bucky, but you’ve been a very bad boy and you deserve a punishment. – As you talked a pout formed in your glossy lips and you slowly approach him, siting with your legs on either side of his tight. Bucky didn’t move, he was feeling better, he was sure he’d done worse drugs back in the day, the effects of whatever you gave him quickly wearing off but he wanted to see what you’d do next.
You licked your lips while roaming your eyes over his body in appreciation. Noticing how Bucky’s cock twitched under your gaze, you bit your lip. He was hard already and you could feel the wetness in your pussy. Extending one finger, you took a little drop of precum before slipping in your mouth and moaning at the taste. Bucky was agitated, if his rapid breaths were any indication, and you could hear the muffled groan as you closed your eyes, still sucking your finger, while you rolled your hips. The lustful movement sending waves of pleasure at the brush of your clit against his tense muscles. Opening your eyes, you held his gaze as the movements turned more desperate. Releasing your finger with a pop, you dig your nails in his chest for support, prompting another groan from him.
Bucky’s eyes were filled with hunger, that adorable blue longed forgotten now with his dilated pupils. All he could see and feel was you, the smell of your arousal, your juices licking out your underwear and onto his leg, your sweet voice moaning his name, he was desperately trying to get out of the cuffs and when you were about to stop to check on his now bruised wrists, he flexed his tight muscles, giving you the push you needed to cum over his leg screaming his name. Trying to catch your breath, you fell on top of his chest and whimpered rubbing your body against his, your movements almost catlike. Raising your head, you left a kiss over the tape covering his mouth and giggled when you saw his frown.
– Oh, don’t look at me like that. I couldn’t resist it; you look just too good. Would you like me to help you out, baby? – You gestured to his throbbing erection as he shifted in his place. He really wanted to get out of these cuffs so he could fuck your brains out. He never imagined you would be like that, but he wasn’t going to complain.
Leaning closer to him, you ended up dragging your warm cunt against him and it made him throw his head back with a grunt.
– Now, I’m gonna take this from you. But you gotta promise me you’ll be a good boy and won’t start screaming or somethin’, okay? Think you can do that for me? – Bucky was getting tired of your patronizing tone and couldn’t wait to show you who was really in charge here, but he knew he needed to let you play so he could be free to show you a lesson later. So, he just nodded along and groaned when you ripped the tape from his mouth.
Leaving that aside, you kissed all the red area trying to soothe the irritation on his skin. He let out a sigh at the feel of your warm mouth and trapped your mouth in a sloppy kiss that made you whimper and press against him. Pulling back, Bucky stared at your dozed eyes and chuckled darkly.
– Goddamnit, angel, if I would have known you were this desperate for my cock, I would’ve fucked you a long time ago. – His words made you frown and pout as you stared at his chest, not wanting to look into his eyes.
– Well, you were too busy with your friend to notice me – You mumbled softly, and for a moment he forgot his confinement and tried to take you in his arms, only to huff at the restraint.
– I’m sorry I’ve neglected you, doll. Why don’t you let me make it up to you, huh? Let me outta these so I can properly show you how sorry I am. – Quickly you shook your head, you could feel the power shifting; he may be the one in cuffs, but you were already putty in his hands and every fiber in your being wanted to let him take charge.
– No, daddy – As the word slipped from you, a surprise gasp left your mouth and you ducked your head down in embarrassment. That only excited Bucky more, he wanted you begging for his cock.
– Why not, angel?
– I have to punish you; you were mean to me and if I let you free, you’re just gonna leave again with her.
– Oh, sweets, trust me, there’s no other place I’d rather be. And this is hurting me. You don’t want that, do you? Good girls don’t hurt their daddy.
Praying to the universe you weren’t making a mistake, you hesitantly nodded and lifted yourself up to undo the restraints. It took less than a minute for Bucky to grab your hips as soon as he was free and pull yourself over his lap. In this new position your pussy was rubbing against his cock and it made you whimper his name as he teased your entrance.
– You’ve been a brat, angel. Tell me, all this just to get my attention? – You were trying to sink into him a fuck yourself but his iron hold wouldn’t let you; seeing that you weren’t answering his question, Bucky gave a quick slap to your ass that made you moan – Is my dumb baby unable to answer a simple question? You were so confident before, baby, what happened?
– I-I’m sorry, daddy. I just want you, please.
– Well, since you ask so nicely. – In one thrust you were filled with his cock hitting that spongy spot inside of you that made your eyes roll to the back of you head. You were so wet from your previous orgasm that Bucky decided not to prepare you, he knew you could take it.
Delivering one brutal thrust after the other you could feel the second orgasm of the night approaching as you cried out his name. Your nails dug little moon shapes along his arms and shoulders. The only sounds were the ones coming out of both of you, and the pounding of the bed against the wall. It didn’t take long for him to fill you with his cum. As you both were catching your breath, you tried to get up to give him some room, but he just pulled you against his chest before flipping you up to lay between your open legs.
– Where you going, angel? I’ve barely got started with you.
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bvccy · 6 days ago
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​ 💖
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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."
"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?"
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?"
"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.
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.
"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.
"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."
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Bucky laid down on his back and she laid on his chest, her head just beneath his chin and her hands folded over him. The breakfast was half-eaten and the coffee was gone, but there was still water and orange juice on the little coffee table. They watched the game play on the TV, volume just high enough to fill the silence of the room. His hands moved slowly up and down her back, in a long and loving pet. She wore a thin nightgown with nothing underneath, and he wasn't wearing much either. When she started purring and looking longingly up at him, he stopped.
"What?" he smirked at her. "You want something?"
She didn't need to say anything, she just stretched up to kiss his chin and looked into his eyes, and within seconds, Bucky pulled his sleepwear off just enough to take his still-soft manhood in his hand, and with the other hand pulled his little wife just there, pressing it into her. She took it with a delicious sigh, then settled down just as she was before, licking her lips as a shiver ran through her.
"Good?" Bucky asked in a whisper, but he could tell she liked it from the curling of her claws into his chest and the tightening around him that was making him slowly harden.
"Very good," she groaned, "the best," and nuzzling into his neck, "the most perfect."
"Good in the superlative? Oh my," he chuckled, and kissed the top of her head.
She wasn't paying much attention to the game anymore, and neither was he, but it helped to pass the time as they melted into each other. Her twitching flexed her around him until he was a perfect fit, and from her warmth and wetness, he slowly filled out until he was firm and deep. He didn't need to thrust, and she didn't need to move, tempting though it was. They just allowed their bodies to enjoy each other, warming together and pulsing with blood and desire.
Bucky watched her laying in his arms. She was happy and trusting, and she had so much affection to give, something he never would have seen or experienced if things hadn't happened the way they did — and for the longest time, he'd feared it impossible, but she kept surprising him. The change had been slow, and in spite of how different she was around him now compared to those weeks long gone where she was cold and avoidant, she was still completely recognisable. She'd carried the loving inside her from the beginning, and he wanted to beat himself up for ever doubting it, for ever thinking her cruel or heartless.
A little while later, she started shifting on top of him.
"What is it, doll?"
"Thirsty," she whined, looking at the glass of water on the table.
"Hold on," said Bucky, wrapping both arms around her waist to keep her in place while he heaved them both up to sit on the couch. Her knees hugged his hips and her arms came up around his neck, and she kept him inside the whole way. He bent to get the glass for her, then leaned back against the couch while she drank her full.
"Thank you, darling," she said once she was done. "You want some too?"
Bucky leaned in to sip at a drop left on her lips, while he took the glass from her and moved to place it back.
"Got all I need," he smiled.
They stayed like that until he released again inside her, teased by the hot pulsing of her muscles, and with just a few small tilts, she shivered all around him with a strong and desperate clench. She relaxed, he softened again but stayed inside, and they managed to do it all over again twice more before lunchtime.
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buppybucky · 6 days 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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winter-soldier-101 · 7 days ago
I’ve been reading some of @darkficsyouneveraskedfor imagines and they are all just amazing and they are all dark themed so read at your own risk. Roo writes for some mcu characters I just want to say that I appreciate all the work your doing with your writing they are just amazing and they pull you in wanting to read more Roo’s Masterlist can be found here. @darkmasterlistyouneveraskedfor
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bvccy · 8 days ago
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
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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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obsessedsadgirl · 8 days ago
I’ve looked everywhere and can’t find it. Does anyone know of a fanfic/series where Bucky kidnapped a women and turned her into a obedient pet for Steve?? But ends up falling for her? 
@imonlyherewhenimtouchstarved thank you so much! They found it and it’s Pet by @skyeisawizard
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darkbucky · 10 days ago
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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bvccy · 11 days ago
Nothing to Despair | 20. In the reflected sky
PAIRING: Soft!Dark!Bucky Barnes x Reader
SYNOPSIS: Bucky and a girl he never met before have to go undercover as married on a mission to Europe. He feels alienated in the modern world, while she goes through life alone and abandoned. Maybe they can find a new home in each other, but she’s not easily convinced.
CHAPTER NOTES: More angst, more smut. Assisted masturbation, creampie, slightly painful sex, sweet dirty talk (from reader) and generally the softest soft-domme!reader ever to be written, reconciliation, jealousy. Also, we get more insight into reader’s thinking and there’s a lot of sadness and dark thoughts. Thank you for all your lovely comments! Beta-read by @offcast-plus1​ <3
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I was the shadow of the waxwing slain By the false azure in the windowpane; I was the smudge of ashen fluff - and I Lived on, flew on, in the reflected sky. — Vladimir Nabokov, Pale Fire
He barely managed to get her back in bed, but she was too tired to fight and too sore to run away. Even Bucky had a hard time getting up, managing to wipe down her thighs and wash up a bit before curling back behind her. It was a while, an hour maybe, before she spoke again, to ask:
"What's the point of it?"
"It's a way to get closer to you," he whispered, pressing his lips to her shoulder blade. "Like kissing you. And holding you. And talking to you. And seeing you. That's why you like to be alone, isn't it?" She wasn't speaking or moving but he felt her pause, as if in thought, and then her head turned slightly in a mute question. "If people can't get close they can't hurt you. Is that it, doll?" The girl frowned and turned away again, letting her head sink back to the pillow. "I'll let you in on something: people don't have to be close to you to hurt you."
"If they do it from a distance, at least that's not your fault," she muttered.
"Alright. Why don't you stop talking around it and just tell me what's been bothering you?"
"You. You're bothering me."
Bucky sighed through his teeth and leaned over, grabbing her chin. "You know what I mean."
"It's none of your business," she hissed, throwing him a sharp glare, small and curled up as she was.
"You're my wife now, it is my business."
She instantly regretted saying anything and decided then and there to never do it again. Like every other needy person, he took everything, anything she said, and used it against her.
"Is it so hard to trust me that you won't even try?" he asked with a firmer grip. "You think you've come across worse people than I have? Even without counting Hydra, or SHIELD for that matter. Whatever kind of double-cross you want, I've had it," Bucky rasped, then with half a hesitation added "including from you."
He regretted saying it before it was even out, but searching her face he saw no changes. She kept the same frown and clenched jaw, looking neither hurt nor moved by what he said. She either didn't feel guilty, or wasn't sorry, and though he didn't apologise he softened anyway, hand moving backward to caress her cheek and brush the hair over her ear. Bucky sighed and pulled her back down, with himself slotted behind her again.
"I want to take everything you've got, doll, good and bad. And I want to give you everything I've got, good and bad… That's what marriage is supposed to be," he said as he started running his fingers on the surface of her arm. "Let me help you carry the bad stuff, sweetheart." But she kept quiet. "If nothing else, at least as a friend?" he tried. She didn't even move, except to clench her jaw tighter. "I don't like knowing you're like this, doll. I hate seeing you unhappy."
She could think of a hundred things to tell him; that she was happy before, that she'd be happy without him, that nobody could be happy for very long anyway, and that he should probably worry more about himself as he was the lonely and pathetic one.
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They skipped out on lunch and stayed in bed together. Bucky held her tightly, caressing her now and then, kissing the back of her head, her neck, her shoulder… in the moments of pause between thinking of how he could use what he'd been through to help her. Thinking back to some books his doctor had him read, some strategies he was forced to go through in his therapy, thinking for the first time seriously about what, really, had led him to trust people again, and imagining, at the end of all of it, her loving him back.
She, with her back to him, stared out toward the window at the roiling sea, imagining what it would feel like to jump.
They washed up and dressed for dinner early. Bucky took them to the place she liked best — incidentally the most elegant and expensive — and it was quiet and selective enough for them to speak even in whispers, if they wanted, but she didn't have much to say. Neither of them had had a bite to eat since breakfast, but dinner was difficult for her. She ordered a bowl of soup and spent most of the time just running the spoon over its surface. And he hadn't missed how stiffly she walked, how delicately she sat down — most probably bruised a little bit.
Bucky finished his dinner and spent the rest of the time nursing a glass of whisky. He rested his elbow on the low wall of their booth and braced his temple against a gloved metal index, fingers moving across his lips absentmindedly as he watched her play with her cold food. He didn't want it to be like that, but he couldn't stand it anymore, couldn't keep waiting… however much he'd wanted to. Bucky meant what he said when he said it, during their dance at the hotel: that he would be there for her whenever she was ready. But faced with what that actually meant, he couldn't do it, he couldn't wait. He wanted her, so badly, and now.
"What are you thinking?" he asked in a low voice.
She was probably thinking that if he'd broken that promise, what else was he willing to break? If she'd been right about him once, what else was she right about? Bucky had hoped he was done with putting his own dark thoughts in other people's heads, fearing what they thought, wondering, guessing — which, as his therapist went to great lengths to explain, would always be worse than the reality. 'Course, his therapist had never met his little wife…
"Would it help to say I'm sorry?"
"I'm sorry anyway."
"You're not sorry that you did it," she bit back. "You're sorry of the consequences."
"Guess you're right," he sighed. "I'm sorry that you're hurting, doll…"
She looked up just once and melted his cold eyes with one sidelong stare. "You should've thought about that before."
Bucky clenched his jaw and took a breath. "I'll be more careful next time, alright?" he whispered, but she just cringed and looked back down. Next time…
"I want to go for a walk."
"Eat your dinner first."
They did take a long, sprinkled stroll on the deck afterward. She said the cold made her feel better, and walking helped too, so he couldn't complain. By the time they went back down to their cabin, it was late at night. The ship was normally pretty quiet, but it was quieter now than ever, the people around them all asleep. They stepped lightly through their suite and turned on just a couple of lamps, diffuse golden pools decorating the place against a backdrop of shadowed corners and a chorus of wisping sea. Bucky took off just his shirt before he stopped to watch her. She'd already undone her hair and it fell around her shoulders in that way he liked so much. She took her blouse off, then her skirt off gently, and sat down — on her own bed this time, which he didn't like. Before she got to do anything else, he was kneeling on one leg before her. She gasped as his hands gripped her calves, but soon returned to her stoic nature.
"Get up, Bucky," she sighed.
He brought her ankles together in his lap and massaged them slowly, keeping his eyes on hers. "Can I ask you something?"
"Can I say no?"
"You can," he smiled.
She pursed her lips, but finally said "Go ahead, ask. I'm curious now."
"Do you think I like hurting you?"
It took her a second to think it through before she answered. "I think you don't care, either way."
"Maybe I don't care as much as I should, but I do care," he said as he worked his hands slowly higher. "Do you like hurting me?"
"You are not exactly hurting," she narrowed her eyes. He kept watching as if she said nothing, caressing her legs lightly. "You're not being hurt, Bucky." He reached all the way to her hips, still waiting for an honest answer. "No," she sighed, "it doesn't make me happy."
"So what would make you happy?"
"And don't say letting you go, because that's not going to happen."
"That's not going to happen," he gritted out. "So, what would make you happy?"
She closed her mouth and looked at the space between them, finally considering his question seriously. "I need to think about it," she eventually said.
Bucky nodded and even smiled a little, his large grey eyes crinkling kindly, tired. His hands were now at the garter belt, playing with the suspenders, and he started to undo them one by one, peeling them carefully away from the edge of the stockings. There was a heat back in his eyes. His big rough hand, even the metal fingers, were deft with the little clasps, and it can't have been just from watching her put them on and off so many times.
"You're surprisingly good at that," she remarked in an icy tone as he rolled one stocking down.
"Am I?" he smirked.
"Perhaps not so surprising," she said, right before she kicked him in the chest. He fell back down more out of shock than anything, and then dared to laugh.
"Dollface, what did I do?" he asked from his sprawl.
"I can undress myself," she muttered, walking around him toward the living room. Before she was through the doorway, he had his arms around her waist and pulled her back in. "This isn't helping me do that thinking we just talked about," she growled as she clawed at his arms.
Bucky walked them backwards to his bed, rubbing his face into her hair and moaning at the scent. "Sweetheart… I can't believe you right now," he smiled. "You're not jealous, are you?"
"Over a mouth breathing mountain of manure like you? Never."
"Ouch," he chuckled. "You know the women you're jealous of are all dead, right?"
"Oh, is that so?" she giggled bitterly, and half-way turned around in his arms just to catch a glimpse of his face as she said "So I suppose it doesn't matter what Hamelin and I did before you found us."
His grin turned to a grimace and instantly he raised a hand to hold her chin. "Nothing happened between the two of you," he said with all amusement gone.
"Yes. But it's worth saying it to see how your face fell," she smirked. "And he's dead anyway, so it doesn't matter, right?"
He heaved a breath and shook his head. "That isn't fair, it's… That's different."
She tilted her head back, out of his grip, and smiled sadly. "You're right about that."
His hold was loose enough now that she stepped out of it. She sat back down on the bed and removed the other stocking while Bucky looked at her, still a little angry. "What's that supposed to mean?" he asked, hands on his hips, looking like he could fill half the room with his breadth and outrage.
What wasn't fair? That he'd won her? Would she really prefer that slimy, slippery snake to him? Weaker, smaller, unremarkable, who didn't know her, who could never give her half of what he could, whose mission it was to basically throw her away, who could never protect her or make her happy. A middling agent compared to him, Martin had been no match for Bucky, and Hamelin was no match for The Fist of Hydra, the Winter Soldier — was that it? Was that what she wanted? Was he just too soft? Was that why she preferred the metal arm?
And what did she mean, then, by 'different'? Bucky knew what he meant: his past girls were never a threat to her, they were long gone and he wasn't pining after any of them, so what was she worried about? Meanwhile, Hamelin — or rather, Martin — not only had the chance to take her away but was actually supposed to, and relatively recently too. Just because he was dead, buried, and decraniated, didn't make it any better.
"I meant exactly what you meant," she said evenly, then turned her dour face up to him and sighed. "I want get cleaned up and go to bed."
Her bare feet were braced on the floor, her hands braced on the edge of the bed, and she sat right in front of him in her lacy red slip, one strap off the shoulder, and… asked to go to bed with him. His rational mind said 'no, they weren't done talking', but his body said:
"Yeah, er… sure, g-go right ahead, honey."
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Of course, he didn't know that she'd cheat.
Turning in bed sometime in the night, Bucky expected to wrap his arm around her but instead felt nothing, his hand falling as if through space. Feeling around, the bed was empty and cold. He raised himself up slightly on his arms to look around — her own bed, in front of him, was empty. Looking toward the door, there was no light on in the living room. He looked over his shoulder and finally spotted her: she was sitting by the windowsill, inside of its little alcove, crouched and on her back. Her feet were on the wall of it, her knees cuddled to her chest as she rested her forehead against the window, and looked out at the sky.
As soon as she heard him shift around in bed, she winced and tensed up. Oh no, here it comes. Turning her head and meeting his eyes, she reflexively straightened, sitting a bit higher. He's going to come over, she thought to herself. But he just turned and stretched toward the bed table, grabbing the watch to see the time. It must've been around 4 AM.
"You ok?" he asked through the gruff of sleep as he leaned forward on one elbow.
"Yes," she said, and cringed at the lameness of her own reply.
She'd been enjoying her time alone, at least a little bit. She just wanted to sit by the window and look at constellations again, even if these ones were completely different. But now he was awake and he'd caught her and he was definitely going to come and ask some stupid questions… But he just sighed and stayed mercifully where he was. Even through the dark and distance, Bucky saw the way she looked at him: legs tight, feet bent at the ankles and pointing toward the window, her face half-turned away while she watched him through the corner of her eyes. One didn't need to be a trained assassin to understand. So against his every instinct, he laid back down and turned around so that at least he couldn't see her — nor she him — and pretended to go back to sleep.
She was as surprised as she was grateful to be left in peace, but there was nothing for it now. He'd woken up, he'd seen her, and she couldn't focus anymore on anything other than the chance — the risk — that he could come over any minute now and… And what? Turning back toward the window, she tried to enjoy the view again, but she just kept feeling his presence from across the room, wondering now what he thought, what he felt — it was always like this, this always came with being seen. Everyone just had to have some opinion, and she couldn't help but care, and worry.
This is going to be the rest of my life, she bitterly thought. All her options of freedom, of going where she wanted, of being alone for days, of not having to speak to anyone for long blissful weeks, gone. It's always going to be like this.
Don't you like him even a little bit though?
That's not the point.
He's handsome…
So what?
And he likes you…
That's not true.
She turned to look at him on the bed, his breaths deep and body still, all that hot skin above the covers and lean strong shapes beneath. His hair was a bit ruffled and just beneath the pillow she could see the metal arm curled up, hugging it in sleep. He was so tactile, so instinctively intimate, even after everything he'd been through — perhaps because of it. Bucky deserved to have someone nice… She thought over what he said earlier, 'what made her happy'. She couldn't remember many recent occasions of that, not significant ones at least: sure, a successful report was alright, the heartfelt thanks from a colleague was nice, and finding a favourite cake at a shop, or a set of bonbons in beautiful packaging, or seeing a kitty, or getting to pet one.
But those were just little pleasant moments that went away, they weren't the foundation for anything. And none of them involved any real intimacy — if anything all events of intimacy, from something as distant as just being at a party to being forced to hug someone, all of them left her feeling stressed, and inadequate, and sad, and took hours to recover from. She explored in her mind all the options of giving Bucky what he wanted, his payment for keeping her safe from SHIELD, but she couldn't imagine putting herself through any of it. She couldn't even fake it, the very thought got stuck in her mind. He wouldn't let her get away, he'd made that abundantly clear, and she couldn't bide her time with fake affection until he inevitably got bored of her. All it left her with were awful options: keep being miserable, or make him angry enough to throw her away and end up in prison. Or… ?
How else, how else to survive having to be his wife and give him what he wants when I hate it, I hate him… I don't hate him.
She sunk lower in the window's alcove and loosely hugged herself. The wedding ring nearly touched the glass, reflecting faintly back, and looking at it, she got lost in thoughts of that morning, when he'd made her his. How he looked at her, and how he touched her and held her and talked to her and kissed her, but mostly how he — She couldn't hold the memories for long without having to cover her face completely with both hands, then had to open her eyes and look between her fingers at the wall to distract herself, to stop herself remembering. And it wasn't just the shame of being seen and felt by a man, wasn't just about the utter meanness of him to do it when she told him 'no', wasn't even about losing that part of herself because she'd thought about it, too, with him…
An idea came, and her whole body shivered.
What if he really does like you?
There's no chance of that.
But then, with the cold ring brushing her face, right in front of her, inescapable, she thought of another way through this. She took a vow, after all, and he really was her husband. If she could do it as a job, as an obligation like any other, as a duty… Would it make her happy, to perform a duty? To fulfil of a noble vow, to sublimate it somehow for —
it isn't going to work it isn't going to work it isn't going to work
— for however long it lasted.
She sighed and looked once more at the back of him and, without thinking anymore, let her body raise her up, take her back to bed, and lay her slowly down. The mattress didn't even move as she inched her way to his side. Her forehead barely touched his back, and that was all he was waiting for as instantly he turned and wrapped his arm around her. His leg curled around hers, lips at her forehead for one long kiss, and after he was done, he rested his chin over her head and settled her comfily against his chest with one deep, contented sigh.
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She woke up to bright lights and an empty bed. Cracking her eyes open, Bucky was nowhere in sight, and sunshine was pouring through the window. She checked the phone and saw it was 10:30 AM, and just then she heard noise coming from the living room.
"You up yet, babe?" he asked in a light tone as he wheeled something inside.
"What's that?" she rasped.
He brought it to the side of the bed and leaned down to kiss the top of her head. "Thought we might have breakfast in bed today."
Bucky had let her sleep in and called for room service again. He was clean and shaved and still in a bathrobe, with probably little underneath. And while she didn't exactly like how yesterday's breakfast ended, it was tempting to stay in bed.
"Can I maybe shower first?" she asked, then added "I'll be quick," realising he'd probably waited for her before eating.
"Sure thing, doll," he grinned.
As it turned out, Bucky had a reason for keeping her in bed. After they cleared out the coffee cups and the plates and boring newspapers, he cupped her neck and leaned it back and fell upon her with kisses, inching her own robe away and taking his completely off.
"Left me hungry for you after yesterday, darling," he whispered into her skin. "Wanted to wait a bit more, but…" Kiss after kiss, he worked his way lower as he held her ribcage still.
"Thought you'd had your fill…"
He raised his head enough to grin at her. "I'm just getting started."
"Bucky…" she whined when his hands, fingers spread and teasing, passed over her chest, his lips at her stomach. She had to call his name again to get his attention.
"What is it, doll?" he huskily asked with his mouth just above the surface of her skin.
"I'm still achy."
"Oh…" His hands went back down to caress her sides, up and down in steady motions, as he looked into her eyes and tried to calm his breathing. "It's ok…" he gently said and, as his metal hand settled a bit higher and the thumb moved left and right to tease the tip of her, he offered "Maybe we can try something else, if you want."
She only had herself to blame, and her newly formed and probably doomed dedication to the idea of duty. Two minutes later she was straddling him, one leg bent the other stretched beside him, her chest slightly above his, hands holding on to him by his neck while his teeth nipped at her shoulder. Her still-damp hair stuck to her back, but her front was burning from him. He wasn't doing anything to her, he just wanted to have her there for him to feel on top of his chest and stomach while he worked himself beneath her. His left arm was steady at her back, just in case she slipped lower than she wanted to.
"That's it, sweetheart," he murmured. "Just let yourself lay down on me…" His right arm and shoulder flexed with the movement, and slowly it moved her too, and as she allowed herself to lay a bit more firmly, like he said, the whole surface of his skin was teased. "Bit higher," he moaned, stretching his neck to reach hers with his lips. "Let me kiss you there…"
She pulled herself up the distance and leaned her head back, allowing him to place a suckling kiss over her throat. His teeth just barely grazed it, and she gasped. He felt her tense as if to pull away, and although she didn't move, he whined into her skin in protest.
"It's ok, it's ok," he tried to placate her, to place a few more kisses up and down her neck. "Don't be scared… Don't be scared of me."
She bowed her head and let it sink into the pillow, trying not to hear the sleek wet sounds behind, nor think of what the jerking motions of his arm meant. Each kiss he placed on her came as a surprise, each one made her jump a little, and each of his moans made her wonder if something was wrong, if she was a burden, if she made things worse, but they were only followed by more kisses.
Bucky raised his head from her and turned to whisper in her ear, pleading and hungry, "I need more." She almost turned her head, her cheek brushing his. "Talk to me, sweetheart…" He must've felt her choke, and though his arm didn't stop its rhythmic up and down, he added a more gentle "Can you?"
"I'll try…" she whispered back, still against his cheek and unable to look at anything. Maybe speaking would distract her. "I… I do want you to feel good," and she did mean it, she did want to help him, especially when he was being so gentle, so cautious with her, and of all the ways to be a wife this should be the easiest, right?
"Oh yeah, you do?" he asked with a smirk, and it wasn't necessarily just teasing because the prospect that she wanted him to feel nice, that she might even want to be the reason for it, was both exciting and rather new. And to hear it from her, who was still fairly innocent and untried by any other man, meant there would be a little less artifice there, a little more sincerity.
She raised her head to look at him and bit her lip as she looked into his eyes, nodding mutely at first, before she softly spoke "I do, I want to give you what you want. You're so good, sweetheart, you've been so good to me…"
He inhaled sharply, and though she was so quiet he might not have heard her if he was just a bit further, her words struck deep and stayed there. On its own, his grip tightened on his manhood, and he cradled her closer with the metal arm, feeling her soft and damp across his stomach.
"Is this what you wanted, darling?" she asked as she ran her fingers in feather touches down his neck, the inside of his arm, "You like it when I talk to you?", then up again and down his flexing chest, "you like it when I touch you?" stopping to flick and tease him there and make him moan almost in pain. Then she sunk her nails in and dragged down, breathing through her teeth to ask "Is this what you like?" and through his rambled pleas of —
"Yes yes y…"
— she asked in a cold low voice "You like me?" Why did you ask that?
"Yes, I… f— I love you." Oh no.
She tore her gaze away from his flushed and open face, away from those soft grey eyes that looked pleadingly at her, to look down between them, between their two chests and the parting of her legs, to where his fist was gripping.
"Darling," she cooed in a sudden teasing tone, so low and close and wet he could hear her tongue brush against her lower lip. "Oh just look at that…" With a purr, she turned her attention back to him and tilted her face as if for a kiss but instead only said, with a little pout, "it's no wonder you hurt me."
"I'm sorry, I'm so sorry," he panted and rambled heartfelt apologies, but lower down his arm moved faster, gripped harder, in a lovely simulation of how punishingly tight she'd been, what a perfect fight he'd had with her little body, and how satisfying it was to win. He'd never felt like more of a man than when he conquered her. "I didn't mean to hurt you, doll, I swear I never did…"
"Shhh it's alright," she whispered, cupping his face and brushing her fingers over his cheeks, the circles under his eyes, then smoothing out his eyebrows as she looked lovingly across his whole contrite face.
"I just couldn't… I couldn't help it, you —"
"No, don't say that…"
"You're so — oh s— so pretty, sweetheart, I wanted you, I want you, I couldn't help it —"
"Don't talk like that, Bucky," she begged, holding his face still in her hands as she let herself lay lower on him, her legs spreading just slightly, chest pressed against his, her lips almost to his own. He searched her face, mouth parting just in gasps and moans while he teased the tip of himself with his hand, waiting for her to find the words. "If…" she started with a sigh, and threading her fingers through his hair she looked into his eyes for the courage to admit, "Don't say you can't help it, it kills me, it kills me to think about…" And though he might not have understood, she could see in his face a sympathy with the pain he caught a glimpse of. "Be gentle with me or hurt me or do whatever you want to me, but I want you to mean it, alright? Want whatever it is, with me, just with me…"
"Just with you, doll," he promised, metal hand moving up her back to rest at the nape of her neck and hold her there. "My best girl, my own, my only…"
"Tell me you're mine." Her caressing fingers turned into fists in his hair and pulled his head back.
The possessiveness and pain only served to bring him closer, and through teeth gritted in unexpected pleasure, before her demand was even fully through her lips, Bucky answered "Yes yours, only yours, I swear it."
Her grip loosened in his hair and she rewarded him with a kiss, giving him her lips to soften his sighs against and bite and sip tenderness from, while her hands went down to frame his chest, bracing against his hot broad ribcage that arched with frantic breathing.
"I'm so close, sweetheart…" Bucky moaned, and looked with yearning down at her before he asked "Come closer, higher, let me…"
It was more difficult for her to find the courage for it, but remembering her earlier intentions, she moved up his body just the distance needed for his mouth to reach her chest. She braced her hands against the headboard as she held herself above him, her frustrated womanhood fevering away at the base of his ribs while she gave him more flesh to kiss. And all along her back, the metal arm held her — from moving lower, from moving away, from being forgotten — and it didn't even feel cold anymore. Every now and then it would fall all the way down to her thigh and pull her tighter against him, then go back up and caress the hair away from her neck.
"So close…" Bucky rasped, "so close you for, doll."
Her hand went down to grip his upper arm, feeling the flexing and tension and the hard push and pull, and her mouth, without permission, opened to breathlessly ask:
"You feel that?" She looked pointedly down to him, rubbing herself just slightly against him as her other hand relaxed around the bedframe enough so she could lay against him. "You hear it?"
Bucky looked into her eyes, dazed and blinded with pleasure, but he instantly knew what she meant. "It's beating so fast," he whispered, lips pressing kisses right at the centre of her chest to feel the frenzied flutters. His flesh hand moved in ever wetter thrusts while the metal wrapped itself around her, and holding her chest like a cherished box —
"It's beating just for you."
— he pulled her down and kissed her little heart through her ribcage.
She released a sigh and rested her head on top of his, nails sinking into the hard muscles of his arm, though it did little to ground her because all around her, she felt him. Her skin was teased to scorching, the heavy warm scent of him reached deep inside, whenever she opened her eyes she saw either his ruffled hair or his shoulder or arm or his chest or his eyes, and through it all, that constant backdrop of skin against skin, seeping.
His lips left her chest with a sudden urgency. "Doll, please, I need to…"
"Almost there?" she softly asked, looking in his eyes.
"Need to be inside you," he whispered, gaze flickering down to her parted lips. "Please, doll, tell me I can…"
"Just a bit," he husked. "Don't let it go to waste, now…"
"Still hurts", the girl whined, but looked at him as hungrily as he was.
"I'll give you just a little bit, sweetheart, come on… Try for me."
"Alright…" she relented, and allowed him to move her slightly lower.
"Oh, doll…" he moaned when his fingers brushed against her. "So swollen…" She hadn't just been teasing him, she really was still hurting, and he was now even gentler than she could imagine as he moved the tip over, and around, and up and down that dripping heat. "There you go, easy, thaaat's it," Bucky whispered as he eased her down, keeping his eyes on her face for any hint of pain. "Isn't that ok?"
"Yes…" she gasped, looking as ravished as he felt while she bit her lip and blushed.
"Now hold still, honey. So close so close… There it is, there we go, ah f—"
He barely slipped himself in her. Knowing he couldn't go any further destroyed him, but he stopped. "Good?"
She bit her lips closed and moaned, but kept looking at him. His flesh hand held him still, while the metal one pet her back to calm her. It didn't take him much, only a few more brushes of his fist along his length, and the contrast of the cold of the room with the heat of her, and within seconds he could barely keep his eyes open as he felt himself empty up into her. He could tell she noticed exactly when it happened too, her eyes widening and that blush heating up her lips and neck. But she didn't move away, she let her body be used.
Bucky swallowed his moans and looked at her the whole time, from the first rush to the slow drip of what was left… When he sensed it was done, he took himself out just as carefully and, with his arms around her, moved the girl back down on the bed. She barely touched the mattress when his lips were on her again, kissing her forehead gratefully and full of love.
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They rested in bed for a while before getting cleaned up. He made sure she was ok, and she slowly felt her breath come back. Bucky arranged them in such a way that her head could rest against his flesh arm, while the metal one caressed her forehead and hips and any place that felt too warm and needed cooling. He tried not to think about the things she'd said, and by the far off look in her eyes, she was trying not to think about them either. If he started to hope now… He'd hoped before, and it never ended well. But there was something there, something just for him. If she could be so jealous and possessive and as murderous as he, in her own little way, at the thought of other women… It made Bucky's heart soar in such a way that any sexual pleasure paled by comparison. At some point, she remembered he was there and staring at her. She looked up at him through her lashes, but couldn't hold his gaze for long. Even looking back down wasn't enough, so she buried her face in the pillows.
"You alright?" he softly asked, brushing her hair away. She mumbled and nodded a bit. "Want some water?" Her face finally came back up, but she didn't seem too sure, and couldn't look at him again either. "I'll get you some."
Bucky got off the bed with almost a spring in his step and went to look through the minifridge. He poured some cold water in two glasses and went back to bed, propping her up a bit, and she downed the whole thing in one breath. The girl laid slowly back down while Bucky drank his own, but she didn't seem so pained this time; just careful… Once he was back with her, arms all around her again, he found he couldn't hold it in any longer.
"You were perfect," he told her. Immediately, she buried her face back down. "You still are."
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Taglist: @golden-ghost​​ @themaskismyface​​ @jeremyrennerfanxxxx123​​ @ximaginx​​ @ahahafudge​​ @vikingqueen28​​ @ihavemanyhusbandfandoms​​ @alexmercer-reginaldpeters @lianadare18​​ @frietiemeloen​​ @ovoftbieber @gloomybrieyxb​​ @learisa​​ @offcast-plus1​​ @humongouswinnerduckmuffin​​ @sailorsammyy​​ @irespostthingsiwanttoseelater​​ @mandybug39 @fiositivity​​ @caitdjarin​​ @millennial-teenybopper​​ @ficklemcselfish​​ @panickingqueer​​ @chipilerendi​​ @caramelcandescence​​ @general-bunny @ssa-steverogers​​ @witches-of-discovery-a​​ @bluemoon-icecream​​ @sugarplum1996​​ @lo-manburg​​ @priscilastyles​​ @sugarpunch-princess​​
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offcast-plus1 · 14 days ago
Russian Roulette Masterlist
Hey everyone! Since I can't stop writing this mini-series, I decided to make a separate masterlist for it. So, this is a series of connected one-shots about how, in the coldest and most remote place, you and Winter Soldier find each other. Explicit content ahead, please pay attention to the warnings.
Last update - 6th of June 2021
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Pairing: Soft!Dark!Winter Soldier x Female!Reader
Status: In Progress
Synopsis: Hydra made you give Winter Soldier some Russian language lessons, and then, without realising, you helped them brainwashed him with those special words. Even though you caused him so much pain, the Soldier began to feel... something for you.
This series contains: Drama & romance, non-con/dub-con, mention of violence, unprotected sex, oral sex (f&m), choking, fingering, spanking, handcuffs, knife kink, male masturbation, creampie, stalking, obsessive behavior, Bucky speaking dirty things in Russian (let it be a warning).
⸻ [AO3]
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1. Russian Roulette (Non-con) Summary: Hydra ruined his life. Will he ruin you for helping the people making him their perfect weapon, even if you didn’t know what you were doing?
2. You’ll come back to me again (Dub-con) Summary: When the world around you is full of unsolved mysteries, and the only thing that could warm your heart is Winter, could you trust your intuition and take a step into the abyss?
3. Perfect Illusion (Winter Soldier POV) Summary: The Winter Soldier had a sweet dream of you, in which he would like to stay forever.
4. The Breakpoint (in progress)
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bvccy · 15 days ago
Nothing to Despair | 19. Excuse from pain
PAIRING: Soft!Dark!Bucky Barnes x Reader
SYNOPSIS: Bucky and a girl he never met before have to go undercover as married on a mission to Europe. He feels alienated in the modern world, while she goes through life alone and abandoned. Maybe they can find a new home in each other, but she’s not easily convinced.
CHAPTER NOTES: Here it is! Noncon smut, virginity kink, size kink, creampie, breeding kink, dark!Bucky but still loving, sweet dirty talk, a new fetish for you (cumming while running away; you'll see), and the greatest of all: sex between a married couple in the missionary position for the purpose of reproduction 💕 Thank you for all your support so far, my dears! And thanks to my friend @offcast-plus1​ once more for beta reading <3
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The heart asks pleasure first And then, excuse from pain — And then, those little anodynes That deaden suffering; And then, to go to sleep; And then, if it should be The will of its Inquisitor, The liberty to die. — Emily Dickinson, The heart asks pleasure first
She woke up in his arms, feeling warm and held, and didn't pull away. She stretched and sighed and snuggled back in, turning to rest her head against his throat. After last night, his body seemed less different, more like hers. Her lips rested against his skin, not kissing, just pressing in half-sleep, and as she breathed him in she felt all the more at home. Bucky must've been a bit awake as well, as his arm wrapped tighter, pressing her to him, and he bent his leg to make room for hers to come on top. Her knee curled up, slotting her more comfortably against him, but she barely brought it higher before it brushed against a part that made him wince and moan. She almost pulled away, but his other hand came down to pet her thigh, then went to arrange himself to something less uncomfortable.
"Don't be afraid. He's just saluting you," he mumbled sleepily, and she breathed a quick laugh against his skin. "He respects you very much."
"Right…" she giggled, then settled back into a quiet doze.
Bucky's fingers went back to petting, caressing those innocent parts of her he had longed for for so long. Her skin was always warm, but especially so after a good night's sleep, soft and pliant in a particular way, and too loose to tense away. They slipped in and out of sleep and forgot about the time or anything but each other, then kept cuddling once they were both awake. They only got up once they started feeling hungry, and the room felt surprisingly cold outside their bed. Bucky was half-dressed when she got out of the shower, and she eyed him with a curious look as she towelled her hair.
"I don't really feel like going out today," she said. "Is it alright if we have breakfast in here?"
He froze in surprise but recovered quickly. "Sure thing, doll. I'll call for room service."
She dressed in a nightgown and a robe, and went to the living room while he placed the order over the phone. Turning on the TV, there wasn't much to watch. She was still switching channel to channel when Bucky went to sit with her, having put on a fresh pair of pyjamas.
"Forgot to ask if they offer room service for lunch too," he said, wrapping his arm around her back. "We might have to go down then."
"That's alright," said the girl, yawning, and settled on the sports channel that played a quiet game of snooker.
"Sleepy today, sweetheart?" Bucky asked, pulling her against his shoulder.
"Just don't think I can stand to see people again. It's so tiring."
He smiled and kissed the top of her head. "Too many screaming kids?"
"And fat ugly men in shorts. And the women too. And teenagers pretending to be drunk."
"You would've felt right at home in the 40s," he chuckled.
"Well, I don't know about that…"
There was a knock on the door and Bucky got up to answer. It was their breakfast, coffee and yogurt with fruits and cereal. He rolled it over to their couch and sat back down.
"Why don't you think so?" he asked when they were both cradling their cups of coffee.
"I think I'm a bit too much of a troublemaker."
"Can't argue with that." he grinned.
And she chose not to point out that he probably wouldn't have given her a second glance back then, saving him from having to lie to deny it, and in a way she didn't mind — she still wished he hadn't given her a second glance now; just because she was content with being captive didn't mean she didn't wish to be free.
They ate their breakfast slowly, watching the television while thinking their own separate thoughts, and gradually snuggled closer to each other until her legs were slung across his lap and his fingers stroked her knee. By the time it was 10 AM, they were even more lazy and melted into each other than before, at a time when they would normally start to think of where to go to lunch.
"Still sleepy, doll?" he cooed.
"Wanna go back to bed?"
She nodded heavily.
"Wanna go back to bed with me?"
She raised her head and looked into his eyes but didn't say anything, and he took it as a yes. Bucky kissed her forehead and turned the television off then lifted her straight up in his arms, carrying her back to the bedroom. She squeaked a bit and kicked her legs, but he had them back in the sheets within two minutes. He laid her down first and crawled on top of her, his hands stopping straight at her face to hold it still for him to kiss, his lips sliding against hers, then going down to her chin and up to her cheekbones then kissing each closed eye. He moaned as he went down to her neck and kissed the hollows there.
"How do you always smell so sweet?" he sighed into her skin.
"I think you're just imagining it," she giggled, running her fingers down his shoulder.
"No, no, you do…" he said, kissing lower, then trailing his lips along her collarbone. "You always smell so sweet for me."
He sat up long enough to take his shirt off, then went back down on her, his fingers slipping between the straps of the gown to pull it just off her shoulders, but she was already sighing and wriggling under him, still uncomfortable with his kisses however soft.
"I'm not in the mood for it today…"
"You're never in the mood," he muttered.
"Well, yes."
"If I put my fingers between your legs, will I find you wet?"
She froze beneath him, and he did too, curious about what she'd say.
"That's not fair," she grumbled.
"Oh," he laughed, "is the little spy going to tell me about what's fair?"
She stared down at him, feeling caught all over again, and felt a freezing strain lock up her body. "Do you ever wonder…" she started, "what that says about you? Of all the women in the world, you had to pick the Hydra plant. Is this your way of turning around what happened to you? Getting revenge?"
"No, it isn't," he growled from right above her heart. He only had himself to blame for bringing it up, but he hadn't expected it to hit her as hard as it did — or did it?
"Then why can't you just find some other girl? Someone who could love you."
— it didn't, she was just using it as another attempt to drive him away.
Bucky took a deep breath in and settled his knees on either side of her, coming up with a slow exhale to grab her face and look into her eyes. He had the instinct to strike back at her, to tell her she wouldn't know anything about it — how could she, when she wasn't capable of it, when she didn't know the first thing about falling in love, coldblooded calculating viper that she was — but aside from not wanting to hurt her, he didn't want to lie.
She clearly knew what loving felt like, he'd seen it in her eyes and felt it coil in her body at just the memory of that childhood crush by the fountain. Bucky had never felt for someone else what she still felt all the way from childhood, had never loved so completely that the years made no difference, that the ten thousandth day burned as brightly as the first and the mere memory of a face or voice would shake him to the core. Not with any of the dames he remembered, at least. He thought he felt for her that way, and would carry it the way she did — and if she could brave the indifference of her boy-crush, he could brave her little thorns.
"Don't care about being loved," he said instead, calmer but still smouldering. "Gave up on that long ago, and not just 'cause of how you are."
"What's that supposed to mean?" she bit back from where she was sunk into the pillows, a bit afraid but still offended.
"How hopeless you are. How you don't trust me," Bucky sighed, and lifted a hand to brush her hair behind her ear. "No, I'd given up before I even met you, doll. And you certainly never gave me cause to hope, except when… No, all I want now is just to love you. And if you won't let me…"
She didn't have time to brace for him to let her go, as if throwing her, though they were both still on the bed. His hands went underneath to grab the hem of her nightgown and pull it up, and though she grabbed his wrists, Bucky just yanked it harder, finally pulling it off and throwing it away, leaving her to fall back in bed dizzy and dishevelled. His hands went to her waist next to pull her panties down, and once she realised that, she was back at clawing at him, trying to argue with him or bargain or plead, but all it took was for that metal hand to wrap around her neck and push her down.
"Be good, and I won't hurt you," he growled, staring back at her furious but docile gaze. In spite of herself, she let him inch the lacy scrap around her hips, down her thighs, and all the way up to her knees from where they could slip down.
She burned with anger at him, and of shame at being seen, and of the deep discomfort of seeing his towering figure half-naked. Her hands rested against the metal wrist, but didn't move. She kept her eyes on his as he scanned her body in the daylight, taking in greedy eyefuls of his wife, her heaving chest and lovely legs and those hips he wished to stroke and hold, and the tuff of hair between. She crouched and moved her legs away, but he grabbed one knee and moved it back.
"No…" she nearly hissed.
"Open for me," Bucky muttered, eyes still fixed on her body as he moved her leg back and up, and sighed at the view.
He let go of her enough to pull his own pants down, and even through the metal he could feel her struggle more, breathing harder, squirming, before hope left her. He watched the shock bloom on her face as she caught a glimpse of him, then she blushed and closed her eyes tightly, nails scraping against the plates of his arm. Bucky didn't risk releasing her, so he brought the pants just down to his knees, shuffled in place between her legs, and let go of her neck only to grab her wrists with both hands.
She felt the heat of him all over, and his breath fanning over her chest as he looked down at the two of them. His legs held hers open, and suddenly she felt something brush against her, right on top of her mound, then move up, higher, against her skin, and heard him groan at the sight. If she could crawl more into herself or sink into the bed, she would, but all she could do was keep her eyes closed and turn her head toward shoulder while she let him play with her. He moaned her name and showered her with kisses as he moved down, and took one hand away to bring himself right to her softest place, making her jolt with the hard, wet, unusual feeling. By now, Bucky was trembling as much as she was, and though she kept whispering for him to stop he kept pressing, moving, searching for that opening into her body.
He slotted himself, just at the edge, then brought his hand back up to hold her. The sound of their panting filled the room: hers in anger, his in desire. She bit her lips, bit her nails into her thumb, and though she tried to close her legs all she managed was to make for him a narrower corridor. She felt him move against her and felt herself throb in response, and part, and then she heard his broken moan as he went ever so slightly deeper, still barely inside at all.
Bucky placed a kiss against her tight lips then moved down to kiss her cheek and neck before he sighed in pleasure. She pulsed against and around him a mix of pain and urgency, and even at just the edge of her, he felt ready to burst and had to stop. He paused enough to catch his breath, and though she still tried to push him out, he felt her seeping all around him.
Pushing in another bit, he made her wince and immediately stopped again, but couldn't help the feeling of wonder that her body gave him. How different she was here, this which she kept from him all this time — soft where she seemed so hard at the core, and feverishly hot where she wanted to seem cold, and generously weeping, and even her tight firm closeness seemed now not a barrier to him, but a protection for her, for the tender thing inside that could not defend itself and which she saved, perhaps, for no one, but which was now his to have.
He pressed in deeper and felt her choke, then deeper still like a sudden stab, and though his teeth were gritted in restraint, he moaned her name again, as soft and loving as he wanted, because she really was his now and she had nowhere else to go.
"You're thinking," he panted, staring at her while he waited for both of them to relax. "What are you thinking about?"
"Don't lie. Open your eyes. Look at me."
"Don't make me…"
"Look at me," he whispered, leaning down to kiss her lips.
"So you can see how much I want you."
She didn't seem convinced but her lashes fluttered open, just slightly, and, after blinking away the tears, turned to look at him. Her eyes were glazed over and sad, mouth pulled down and bitten almost bloody, and though he tried to make love to her, she seemed prepared to be thrown out at any second. Bucky just smiled down at her and braced his knees against the bed for another tenuous press between her legs. Her lips parted in a gasp, and he was smitten all over again. He grinned and leaned down for another kiss, short and sweet the way she liked them, and pressed inside once more. He only stopped once her back arched with a pained groan, and she begged.
Bucky rested his head against her shoulder and sighed into her skin, their chests rubbing together, damp and sensitive. He wasn't half-way in yet, and already it felt like she was trying to eat him alive. No amount of kisses to her neck or pettings to her thigh helped her relax, and he worried that if he felt her pulse much longer against his love-starved manhood, he'd finish before the first full thrust.
Bucky brought one hand up to her breast and held it gently, then moved a finger over the tip —
"No no no it's too much…"
— just once before she grabbed his thumb in her fist and pulled it away.
"I love how tight you are, sweetheart, but you have to relax," he whispered against her lips.
"No I don't," she whined, and shook her head at feeling him try again. "You don't have to," she said with barely a sound, "you don't have to, you don't —"
"I do, I want you, you don't know how much…" said Bucky, one hand still on her wrist, the other coming up to cup her cheek. "Wanted you for so long, still want you, feels like I'll never reach you…"
He tried once more, moving up almost completely and conquering the distance left, making the girl gasp and cry into his chest at the burning, bruising pain, as he went through her clenching womanhood and settled into her.
"That's it…" he moaned, staying firmly inside, leaning down to pant into her neck, "open up for me."
"It hurts me," she gritted out, "stop."
Bucky looked down at her with cold, calm eyes, and tilted his hips until he saw her face light up.
"That hurt too?" he asked with a smirk, moving to rub against a hard little part of her while he kept her stretched, trying uselessly to push him out.
"Stop stop stopstopstop," she muttered, pressing one free hand against his chest, skin clammy and hot and slippery by now, but he listened.
She relaxed back into the bed and Bucky let her catch her breath, holding himself up to look at her, at all the skin on view and the new emotions flashing on her face, and he was so grateful that he was the one to see it all. He pecked a few more kisses on her lips and pet her cheek, her brows, the line of her hair, all through the hot tense throbbing. She whined once more, but through the pain there was a little pleasure, a more relaxed parting of the mouth, and a less hateful glare.
"Is it better now, sweetheart?"
"No," she pouted, but he could tell she wasn't too badly in pain anymore, and couldn't help but grin.
"How about now?" he whispered hotly, pulling back then thrusting again, slowly, and stopped at the height of one plaintive cry. "Easy… easy, darling, there you go…" said Bucky, settling back in and caressing the side of her face. "You know I don't like hurting you, doll, so don't pretend it hurts more than it does."
"I'm not, it's just…" she sighed, flexing her feet against the sheets, not able to get a grip on anything as he pinned her. "It's just too much," she finally said, looking down at his chest then back up to his eyes, frowning in discomfort and fear.
He smiled and bit his lip. "You're just not used to it," he said, moving one arm down to cradle her waist and arch her closer to him. "You're so warm, sweetheart. Perfect little body…" he groaned into her throat, pressing for a second even deeper. "Just want to make you happy," he sighed, lifting his head to kiss her and swallow her moans, "make you feel good, get you pregnant…" Bucky felt the breath stop dead in her at that, but he meant it. He wanted her to have his children, and not just as a sexual thrill.
He was just at the third thrust and already felt himself unravelling. Pulling all the way back, he kept his eyes on hers and pressed back in, through the muscles that had relented just a bit more, out of exhaustion more than pleasure, and then kept going as far as he could reach, as deeply as it took for her body to understand — and her mind, too.
"You're trying to close up tight but I'm in the way, aren't I?" he said, smirking, but the sight of her face softened him toward her, and unbidden the words came out, "I love you."
"Liar," she hissed, suddenly incensed and feral. "Stop saying that." Her hands slapped against his chest and she sunk her nails into the skin, as deep and mercilessly as she could. Within two seconds, Bucky covered her mouth with his flesh hand, muffling her angry shouts, and his other hand wrapped itself in her hair, not very gently but not hard enough to hurt her, and with both hands pulled her head up and made room for himself to press his face against her neck.
"You won't call me a liar anymore." Her hands were at his wrist now, trying to pry him off, and taking advantage of her distracted state, he thrust in, harder then before. "You'll be a good girl and take it." And soon, a smirk grew on his face as he felt her give a rush of wetness at what he just called her. He noticed her blush darkly too at being caught, though she never would admit it. "That's it..." he groaned, his eyes fixed on her face as he played with her again, "that's my good girl..."
She shivered now and squirmed with a different sort of trembling, like a wave ready to crash, and he felt her thighs tense against his hips while her hands clung to the bed.
"Just like that, sweetheart" he cooed, moving his eyes down to her slightly parted mouth and then back up, "open up for me…"
One more thrust and the sight of her blushing and surrendered was all too much. He took his hands away from her and braced them on the bed, trying to take it slower, make it last, but he'd waited for so long and... 
"Oh f— darling, good girl, that’s it... "
All it took was five minutes between her legs, and a couple of thrusts, and humiliating as it was, all his efforts to hold back were drowned by how good it felt for his desire to finally find a home as he spilt himself, again and again, right against her core. Bucky grit his teeth and felt the whines and moans bottle up at his throat, because he couldn't let her hear them, wouldn't — he was used to being quiet anyway, and he didn't want her to have the knowledge of just what she did to him.
She gasped at the sight, at the plaintive look in his eyes, and she wondered absently what that steady twitch inside her was, strong and rhythmic like a heartbeat — before she realised just what it was, what his body was doing…
And the fullness of the thing shocked and disgusted and scared her so much she slipped up from underneath him in his satisfied, distracted daze. She pulled herself off the bed and stepped onto the floor, leaving him there with the sheets down to his thighs, sweaty and parted, his eyes still following her from beneath his ruffled hair, cold and burning and completely intent on her, but spent.
She could only get two steps away, and managed to brace herself against the nightstand before she looked at him again. And from the echo of him rubbing all along her, and the new feeling of him seeping out, dripping rich and blood-hot, she felt herself finally succumb: womb and legs gripped by frissons that built up and faded in the air around her, so shattering as if her body teased itself from the inside in delight at being loved and wanted and conquered, and so strong she barely stood up through it.
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Taglist: @golden-ghost​ @themaskismyface​ @jeremyrennerfanxxxx123​ @ximaginx​ @ahahafudge​ @vikingqueen28​ @ihavemanyhusbandfandoms​ @alexmercer-reginaldpeters @lianadare18​ @frietiemeloen​ @ovoftbieber @gloomybrieyxb​ @learisa​ @offcast-plus1​ @humongouswinnerduckmuffin​ @sailorsammyy​ @irespostthingsiwanttoseelater​ @mandybug39 @fiositivity​ @caitdjarin​ @millennial-teenybopper​ @ficklemcselfish​ @panickingqueer​ @chipilerendi​ @caramelcandescence​ @general-bunny @ssa-steverogers​ @witches-of-discovery-a​ @bluemoon-icecream​ @sugarplum1996​ @lo-manburg​ @priscilastyles​ @sugarpunch-princess​
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navybrat817 · 15 days ago
Slow Burn
Pairings: Dick Grayson x Female Reader, Dark!Stucky x Female Reader Summary: Someone has eyes on a private session. Word Count: 500 Warnings: Explicit sexual content, suggestive themes, touching, non-con voyeurism (reader doesn’t know they’re being watched), Dark!Bucky Barnes and Dark!Steve Rogers (you've been warned. ❤️)
A/N: Seriously don't know if anyone will read this, but what the hell? I had a long day and decided to have some fun with this short imagine. ❤️ Divider by the beautiful @firefly-graphics​
Written on my phone and not beta read, so any and all mistakes are absolutely my own! Comments, likes and reblogs are appreciated. ❤️
I have discontinued my tag list. Please follow my sideblog @navybrat817-sideblog​​ and turn on notifications to see new fics! I will only post fics, my writing schedule and updates there.
I do not consent to have my work posted on any third party site or app. If anyone sees my work anywhere but here or archiveofourown under my same username, it has been reposted without my permission. 18+ Please!!! By reading this, you agree that you are at least 18 years old. Enjoy, lovelies!
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"You know. B would be so disappointed if he saw you like this."
"Do not mention Bruce right now," you hissed as you worked to get your wrists free from the ropes. He was likely aware of these '"sparring" sessions and you'd get a lecture at some point. World's Greatest Detective and all. " Fucking Wonder Boy," you added under your breath.
Dick flashed you a wicked smile before he circled behind you, his hands slipping around to cup your breasts. "You can't afford distractions in the field. Though the thought of kidnapping you is appealing."
He simply cradled your breasts in his hands, not moving or teasing you. But you felt his possessiveness just the same. And the feel of the heat from his hands began a slow burn throughout your entire body.
"You would turn this into a kink thing," you said, keeping your voice steady even as your heart picked up.
"I've seen you get out of these before. I think you want to be retrained."
"And why would I want that?" you asked, knowing if you looked back you'd be met with a smoldering gaze.
"Because you want to feel out of control. Let's face it. You want me to fuck you while I wear the finger stripes."
"That was your idea," you reminded him, biting back a moan when his teeth teased your earlobe.
"I have the best ideas," he teased, sliding a hand down between your legs. The slow burn spread heat straight to your pussy, knowing his fingers would be soaked if he dipped them inside.
"And what are you thinking right now?" you asked breathlessly.
He nuzzled your neck, inhaling your sweet scent. “I'm thinking of fucking you like this until you're screaming my name. I want my name to be the only thing you remember when I'm done with you.'
"What are you waiting for?" you whispered.
"Hold on tight, baby."
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The glow of the computer screen reflected in Bucky's eyes as Steve walked into the room. He didn't look up at his friend. He didn't even blink. Most people would think it was a neutral look, but he knew better.
"What is it?" Steve asked to get his attention.
"He's touching her," he answered, his voice cold as he twirled a knife in his hand. "She. Isn't. His."
Steve froze before he stomped over, his eyes flashing as he looked at the scene in front of him. You were a vision, but the wrong hands were on your body. "Just a little longer. It won't be long until Oracle discovers we're watching them. Then the fun can begin."
Bucky leaned back in his chair, the blade flashing before he put it away. "I want to save him for last."
"Why?" he asked, already knowing the answer.
"So he can watch when we take her apart. And he'll know who she really belongs to."
Steve smirked as your smile flashed on the screen, clapping his friend on the shoulder. "Soon, Buck. Soon."
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sweetlyscared · 16 days ago
I’ve always had this idea of Bucky falling for his therapist and forcing himself on her, telling her how much he loves her even though he know she’ll never say it back because it’s against the rules and you get the gist!!!
Do No Harm
Pairing: Soft!Dark!Bucky x Fem!Reader
Word Count: 1.6k
Summary: Your most difficult patient just got harder.
Warnings: 18+ Only, minors DNI. Dubcon sex acts, implied stalking.
My Masterlist
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"James, I don't think this is appropriate," you whispered.
"Then don't think," his breath was hot against your ear where he nipped your lobe, eliciting a small gasp through your parted lips.
He wasn't supposed to be here.
For the past half a year, your Thursday afternoons were blocked out for one James Buchanan Barnes.
You initially felt unqualified to be his therapist. For one, you were new, having gotten your doctorate and certifications the year prior. Then there was the issue of his unique situation. It wasn't just him being a war veteran, it was the brainwashing and literal decades of trauma.
While you knew how to treat PTSD, you felt a therapist who specializes in veterans would have been better suited for the job.
As you would later find out, his first two therapists were indeed military, and he'd requested a change both times.
Your first meeting with him was tense, and he was every bit as intimidating as you were prepared for.
His blue eyes were both deep and icy as they raked over your form, and he did little to hide his contempt.
"This is just a waste of my time," he scoffed.
"You've been through some immense-"
"-Trauma. Yes. I know. I'm fine."
You were persistent, though, and in time, he opened up.
His case worker was over the moon, happy her most difficult client finally stuck with someone.
Things were going well, and you felt like James made wonderful progress. He was funny, even when he was being bitter about some petty issue with Sam. He was also a lot more sensitive than you were expecting. He loved his friends, and the light that radiated from him when he talked about them was captivating. You couldn’t help but be drawn to him in those moments, like a moth to a flame.
And like a fire, he was dangerous.
So when he brought you tea one day, you were grateful, but when he started doing it consistently, you became concerned.
And when you realized it was made exactly how you liked it, you became worried.
You didn't know if you were looking into things too much. Your tea order wasn’t particularly complex, but there were other behavioral patterns that raised a few alarms. He seemed almost flirty with you. He'd ask you about your personal life, which wasn't entirely uncommon for patients. After all, it's only natural to want to know more about someone whose job was to pick apart your psyche.
It was the way he asked. The gentle smile, the way his gaze lingered on your lip when you spoke.
"Any plans this weekend?" He asked one day as you walked him out of your office.
"No, just working through some paperwork."
"Really? A beautiful woman like you doesn't have plans?" He stared at you with an intensity that compelled you closer and you had to stop yourself from moving towards him.
You felt your face warm at the desire behind his eyes.
"I've got a lot of work," you murmured.
His pink lips smirked, almost affectionate, before he opened his mouth, as if to say something.
"I-" he paused. "Have a good week, Doctor."
You shut the door, heart pounding.
Fear, you thought.
By the time you reached your desk, his case worker's number was ready to be dialed on your phone.
Something within you had you pausing for a moment, before you dialed the number. You could perfectly recall those blue eyes, the way his pupils dilated when you smiled at him, how they seemed darker on rainy days, how you could feel them on you when you weren’t looking at him. He viewed you with an fervor that felt suffocating at times; it was as though he was trying to read your soul, and you felt your skin warm at the thought.
The hard lump in your throat became heavier when you realized it wasn't fear that kept you breathless and your fingers clutched around your phone until your knuckles grew cold.
You weren't afraid of James.
You wanted him.
So you dialed the number and did what you needed to do as a professional.
"Hi Marcy. Yes, I'm fine. I just… I think James Barnes needs to be transferred."
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He didn't show up the following Thursday, and you felt both relieved and regretful. You simply told his case worker you felt you couldn't provide him the care and support he needed.
It had been two weeks since you made the call and you had yet to fill the spot James took on your weekly schedule. You didn't mind, though. There was always paperwork to be done, so you thumbed through the various files and started updating treatment plans.
You hardly noticed the knock on your door the first time, but jolted a little when the second was far louder.
Before you could even get up, James walked in, and you dropped the gold fountain pen where it landed on the floor with a heavy thud.
It didn't take long before he had you pressed against the wall, his lips tracing the edge of your jaw and corners of your mouth but never allowing himself a taste.
"Then don't think."
A nip at your lobe, and the gasp that followed was enough for him to finally seek refuge against your mouth. His lips pressed against yours, which you immediately pressed together. He gently bit your lower lip, and another gasp let him dip his tongue so it ran across yours.
He hummed, as though he had to savor something decadent.
You pushed firmly at his chest and he backed away. He chose to, you realized, knowing that if he wanted to stay put, you couldn’t stop him.
Hopefully, it meant he would be willing to leave.
Those hopes were dashed when he quickly spun you around and pushed you onto your desk. You yelped when your back hit the hard surface and papers scattered on the floor.
“James!” You shrieked, when he swiftly pulled apart your blouse, sending a few buttons flying.
You tried to get back up but felt cool metal wrap around your throat.
The vibranium arm was designed with the precision and genius of a master engineer and the delicate eye of an artist. You’d occasionally see the black and gold metal hand, but you never saw the entire thing. You never heard it either, the mechanisms within it so perfectly tuned.
But you felt it, the minute whirs and clicks as his fingers pressed over your pulse.
His arm was every bit a technical marvel as it was a work of art, but it was also a weapon.
So you froze along with your desire, fear replacing any shred of want that remained.
He must have seen the terrified look in your eyes and sighed, easing the pressure he had on your neck.
“You don’t know how long I’ve wanted this,” he admitted at last.
Those blue eyes traveled downward, where they lingered on your lips before continuing their journey down your body. His hand followed shortly after, and you felt the metal pads of his fingers brush over one of your breasts. Your skin had warmed the vibranium just enough that his touch didn’t chill your feverish flesh but you still felt goosebumps prickle down your arms.
He cupped your breast and leaned down to kiss you once more. Your legs were splayed, and his body pushed them even further apart, your skirt scrunching at your hips. You felt the hardness of his heated length against your core and your pussy fluttered. When you didn’t resist him, you felt his hand dip under your bra and a finger ran over your nipple until it pebbled.
“I’ll stop if you tell me to,” he said after pulling away for air, and you could feel his warm breath tickle your kiss swollen lips.
You weren’t sure if he was being honest, and the way he was playing with your nipple had your core clenching.
“I… I could lose my job,” you said once you could gather your thoughts.
“I’m not your patient anymore,” he murmured.
You shook your head.
“It doesn’t matter; you used to be.”
“Then we won’t say anything about it.”
“James, I can’t.”
“But you want to.”
The corner of his lip quirked up in a small smirk at your silent admission.
“In a year or however long it takes to be a non-issue, we can say we ran into each other and caught up.”
A year?
He didn’t want this to be a one time thing.
“I know it’s your job to be compassionate towards the people under your care, but I know there’s something else here,” he whispered as he pressed his lips to yours once more.
His hand left your chest and ventured lower, where it dipped under your skirt and pushed aside the flimsy fabric of your panties.
You couldn’t hold back the gasp at the feeling of those metal fingers running through your slick folds. You keened when you felt him gently nip at your lower lip.
“Professional or not, this pussy’s weeping for me,” you heard him whisper into your neck where he sucked a bruise onto your skin before running his tongue over it. “So, want me to go?”
Any resolve you had crumbled when you felt a finger breech your opening. You didn’t hold back the soft moan, and he stared at you in rapture.
You shook your head, and felt your pussy flutter at how his pupils expanded.
“Good,” he said and his fingers left your cunt where he sucked your arousal clean.
Effortlessly, he scooped you up and carried you towards the section of your office you conducted your sessions in.
“I’ve been wanting to fuck you on that couch for months.”
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Note: This was meant to be a drabble but I got carried away. So y’all get a short fic!
I'm sorry Anon, I didn't follow the prompt exactly! I still hope you like this!
Sorry for all the errors. This was very minimally edited.
Thank you for reading!
681 notes · View notes
boxofbonesfic · 16 days ago
I keep having seriously dirty thots about Bucky and his little Bunny 🥵
Like just imagine how fucking hot they get for each other. There's something seriously arousing about that wild, feral, bloody fucking.
Shit. I done fucked myself up again.
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god, and you just know he loves to bite.
Bucky doesn’t like to stay in one place, that much you’ve learned in the uncountable days since you saw the moon for the first time. Really looked, really saw her cold, bright fury as Bucky sliced your soul to ribbons and sewed it back up again.
“Time to go, bunny.” His voice is soft and dark like the blankets he’s wrapped you in. You’re on the floor in front of the fireplace, and it’s not even morning yet. You can feel the rasp of his beard against your skin as he peppers your bare back with kisses. “No,” You murmur in protest, turning back towards the heat blazing in the hearth. Sharp, sweet, stinging pain makes you whine—your blood is coppery on the air, and you feel his tongue bathe the broken skin at your hip. His teeth find you again, sinking into the meaty flesh of your ass as you feel his cock pulse hard against your leg. “No, rabbit?” He repeats, dragging his canines over the curve of your ass. You’re not sure if you’re still wet from the last time he took you, or if this slick is new and fresh, but your core pulses hungrily all the same. And when he seats himself inside of you, his teeth locked into your throat, your “no” becomes a cacophony of yes, yes, yes.
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offcast-plus1 · 17 days ago
Perfect Illusion
Pairing: Soft!Dark!Winter Soldier x Female!Reader
Warnings: Unprotected sex, oral sex (f&m), male masturbation, creampie, handcuffs, choking, fingering, spanking, dirty talk, knife kink, obsessive behavior.
Summary: The Winter Soldier had a sweet dream of you, in which he would like to stay forever.
A/n: Hey everyone! So, this is a prequel to You’ll come back to me again, and it’s from WS’s perspective.
Pay attention to the WARNINGS please ^^
Many thanks to everyone who reads me, and my dear @bvccy for all inspiration and support <3
English is not my first language and all mistakes are my own.
I hope you enjoy ! :)
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"For you and for me the highest moment, the keenest joy, is not when our minds dominate but when we lose our minds, and you and I both lose it in the same way, through love."
— Anaïs Nin
How far could a person go by following his crazy obsession, and where could it lead to? He's never known. The dark feeling of satisfaction ran through his body, as he closed the heavy metal door behind. The Winter Soldier surely heard your tears of despair, when he was leaving you in that cursed shower room. He couldn't stay there any longer, not after what he did. His loud footsteps echoed through the barely lighted corridor. Lots of different questions were bothering the Asset's mind, but there was no way back now. Everything that happened in Siberia would remain here, just like a small part of him would be inside you forever.
The gray, gloomy walls seemed to have no end. His random thoughts were overtaking each other, making him clench his fists with uncovered anger. He felt like you were still in front of his eyes - so naked, so exposed for him, and your voice was lingering in his head, it was calling him. Suddenly he stopped and grit his teeth from the sharp pain in his trembled heart. What the hell was that unpleasant sensation? Was he even capable of feeling guilty? Tiny drops of water were falling from his damp hair, reminding him how he was cradling your wet, shivering body just a few minutes ago. The Winter Soldier glanced grimly at his shaking hands, asking himself - how much suffering did they bring, and how much more would they...
"Soldat?" He heard the sound of incoming Hydra soldiers, but didn't react. Two tall men in military uniforms spoke to each other in Russian and began to approach him carefully. He was standing still, however, his whole look indicated - he was ready to attack. As soon as one of the officers got closer to him, the Asset turned around sharply and slammed his metal fist into the wall.
"Sir! He's unstable!" one man yelled to another. They both were pretty terrified from the unbridled fury of a super-soldier. Everyone knew very well what usually happened when he was angry, but there was no other way to stop it. The officers pressed him hard against the wall. To their surprise, he put up no resistance at all, and if they looked into his eyes, they would see nothing but pain.
"We must take him to the cell and inform the professor." The Asset began to move forward, as they were holding him firmly from both sides. He didn't care, all he could think about was where you were now, and when he'd see you again. Hydra soldiers were talking to someone via the walkie-talkie, clasping the Winter Soldier's hands occasionally. When he finally would be alone in his dark cell, he might have some time to put down all these obsessive thoughts. He sighed heavily and prayed that he would find his redemption soon.
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"Is it day or evening? No, definitely not evening." His head was dizzy, his eyes were trying to focus on any object. Once again, the Winter Soldier was in that fucking room, chained to a metal chair. As always, there were many people in white coats near him, and he hated them all. His metal arm was fixed in a very solid way - today, he was being prepared for something special. The Asset looked around, searching for the familiar face he had recently seen in his sweet dream. He vividly remembered your smooth skin, pretty face, and long legs that drove him crazy. The Winter Soldier gasped for air avidly, feeling that he was about to see you, but you weren't here. The scientists kept covering his body with different sensors, saying something in Russian. This language was making him feel rage and sadness at the same time. After a while there was silence in the room, until the head professor came in.
"Greetings gentlemen! Today is a very important day for all of us! Mr. Pierce has come here to check our progress," the old man smiled faintly and moved closer to the Asset. He raised his eyes calmly, waiting for what would be next. "I hope everything is ready?"
"Almost. I'll do I.V. and we're ready to go," said a blond woman in a tight medical gown. She approached the Winter Soldier slowly, glancing at him from all sides. He didn't turn his head even when she touched his face, fixing his soft brown hair.
"By the way, where is Miss (L/N) ? I thought she was already here." The old professor turned unhappily to the nurse, adjusting his tie. Just one mention of you made the Asset's heart beat faster. He straightened slightly, biting his lower lip. Miranda seemed to notice the sudden change in his face, and she froze for a while.
"She should be here soon, she's never been late before." There was some anxiety in her, but no one paid attention to this, except the super-soldier.
"Okay, let's wait a few more minutes. If she still doesn't show up, someone will need to go to Block C and find her. Just in case." The scientists nodded approvingly and began to check the cumbersome equipment. The Winter Soldier didn't notice a needle being injected in his arm, while everyone was talking. Miranda pressed her hand carefully against his, but she got no reaction again. The Asset perfectly knew what she was trying to achieve, but all his thoughts were only about you.
Time was passing very slowly. The head professor looked at his watch tensely, walking back and forth by the front door. Everyone was very excited about the upcoming presentation. After all, he was their favorite lab rabbit. Hydra put a lot of effort into making him their perfect weapon of blood and flesh. At some point, he realized that his thoughts started to get fuzzy. The Asset could feel his mind becoming clouded with darkness. That strange substance was running through his veins, forcing him to close his eyes and leaned on the back of the metal chair.
Suddenly all scientists became silent, when they heard footsteps approaching outside. A middle-aged man came in, escorted by a number of Hydra soldiers. He wore a business suit and expensive glasses on his serious face.
"Mr. Pierce! We've been waiting for you! Everything is almost ready!" the old professor spoke pretty quickly and nervously. Pierce raised his hand authoritatively, forcing the scientist to stop talking. It was quite cold in the room, but the Winter Soldier was panting from the unknown heat. Sweat was starting to form on his body, making him open his eyes and look at the new people around him.
"Well, I hope today all our expectations will be met." Mr. Pierce was watching the Asset attentively, coming a bit closer to him. "Is he stable now?"
"Yes, sir. We injected him with a special serum, which turns off all his mental barriers. Almost all," said one of the scientists, who was standing near the Winter Soldier, checking his vitals. The world around was getting blurrier with each second, and the memories of that evening kept coming back to his mind. Everything felt like it was real - your stifled moans, his firm hands on your wet body and his unbridled passion…
"Soldat? Do you hear us?" A slight electric shock seemed to pierce his body when he heard these words. The Asset sighed heavily and looked at the old professor with the silly bowtie.
"What should I do? To set her free?" His hair got a little wet, and his heart was beating very fast. Everyone around stood in complete confusion, especially Mr. Pierce. He narrowed his eyes skeptically and slowly removed his glasses.
"It's all right! Just a little side effect of the serum!" Miranda suddenly tried to assure everyone in the room, but not very successfully. As soon as she said that, the head professor called her to him and began to whisper something angrily.
"Gentlemen, I don't want to sound mean, I'm just interested… Why the hell did you drug him so hard that he can't even answer your simple question? Is it something you wanted to show me?" Pierce wasn't really furious, but his face clearly turned a bit red. It seemed like the walls would start to shake from the amount of pressure in this space. The Winter Soldier's head was rolling so badly, he could hardly hold it up. Countless voices slowly came together in one loud sound, when the front door swung open abruptly. The soft clatter of heels made everyone turn around.
"I apologize for my ridiculous delay. There were some problems with accessing this place." Your voice was like thunder from a clear sky.
"Oh, Miss (L/N)! We were starting to worry about you!" The old professor literally rushed up to you, forgetting about everything else. "We need to start right now, it's very important!" His face was so tense, you could almost see a little sweat drop on his forehead.
The Asset was sitting still, his head was tilted down, and his eyes were firmly closed. The unpleasant pungent smell of ammonia hit his nose, causing him to wake up. At first, he saw nothing, only a white veil obscured his vision.
"What did you do to him?" He couldn't believe it was your voice, no… It was just another illusion. Hydra soldiers were standing near you and watching your every move. Their guns looked very dangerous. The Winter Soldier's body ached with unknown pain, and every touch of the cold sensors made him feel worse. A satisfied grin played on Pierce's face when he saw your hands tensing with anger.
"Bring the notebook, please!" someone's squeaky voice sounded, and the room was bustling. Just a few seconds later, one of the scientists came up to you and held out a red notebook with a star on it. Only when several pairs of hands forced the Asset to sit up straight, he saw you. Time stopped for both of you. Your beautiful eyes were full of sadness, and it was so hard for you to look at him, but it seemed like he resigned himself to whatever was coming.
"Please, Miss (L/N). You know what to do." The professor’s gaze was burning into you. You waited for a moment and took that fucking book with shaking hands. If only a miracle could happen now...
You quickly closed your eyes and opened them again, but there was still the exhausted Winter Soldier sitting in front of you, waiting for you to say those cursed words again. Words that caused him hellish torment.
"So?" Mr. Pierce's impatient voice brought you out of your stupor. You turned to the right page, hearing your own pulse echoed in your head. All attention was on you and the Asset. His lips twitched slightly, as if he was trying to say something, but he didn't dare. Nothing could be changed, everything was already predetermined.
"Желание (Longing). Ржавый (Rusted). Cемнадцать (Seventeen)…"
Uncontrollable pain pierced the Winter Soldier's body, causing his hands to clench violently. He struggled to fight the stupefying contagion that was clouding his mind, but with each word you said, he was literally falling into the abyss. The head professor was intently observing the reactions of everyone around, holding you tightly by the forearm. Your nails were digging into your soft skin almost to the blood.
"Один (One). Грузовой вагон (Freight car)." A dead silence reigned in the room. "Доброе утро, Солдат (Good morning, Soldat)." You closed the red notebook, and looked into his empty eyes, feeling your emotions begin to overwhelm you.
"Ya gotov otvechat' (Ready to comply)," his deep voice sounded insanely cold, like ice was filling his veins. The Asset could feel only darkness within himself.
"Release him," Pierce walked literally right up to the Winter Soldier, looking at him confidently. "I need to understand his level of submission." No one dared to contradict him; a minute later, the brown-haired soldier was sitting freely on the metal chair, kneading his arms. All that time, you were staring at him, trying to figure out what person was sitting in front of you now.
"I think we'd better go," Miranda's sudden quiet voice scared you. "He could act extremely unstable." She took your hand firmly and led you with her, but you stopped her.
"What are they going to do with him?" You were overflowing with guilt and rage. Your eyes were trying to find his, but the blonde nurse wouldn't let you do that.
"(Y/N) ! What the hell is wrong with you? Do you think he needs you? He's just a weapon, you shouldn't worry about him." Her words made something snap inside you. With one last dismissive glance, you left the room, slamming the door loudly.
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Silence could drive anyone crazy - just leave a man alone with his thoughts, and they would destroy him completely. The Winter Soldier didn't know how long it had been since he saw you last... Mission after mission, murder after murder. His hands were completely covered in blood, and his mind was not his own. Even his thoughts, he could hardly understand which thoughts were his and which were not.
After returning from a tough assignment, he was left alone in a dark utility room somewhere in the depths of the barracks. There was practically nothing here, just a large metal tub with huge amounts of ice. The Asset's body ached from the wounds and minor injuries. The black leather vest fell to the floor with a loud thud. The remaining pieces of his tactical gear were taken off the same way - he was quite angry. Plunging into the icy water, the Winter Soldier felt his sores begin to pinch. With his eyes slowly closed, he tilted his head back, trying to relax his strained muscles.
When he was fully immersed in the bath, he exhaled heavily, stretching out his weary legs. The cold liquid seemed to help him free his mind, and temporarily forget about his evil deeds. He was like a blank page and Hydra had already written many terrible things on it. Rubbing his tired shoulders, the Asset tried to wash away the darkness that was haunting him every day and night. His flesh hand was sliding slowly across his wet skin, going lower down to his abs. With each touch, he found it harder to breathe. The Winter Soldier opened his eyes sharply, struggling with a sudden consuming desire. However, his body didn't want to obey, it wanted more - it wanted you. He could feel his cock hardening and his heart began to beat a little faster. The Asset parted his lips, desperately gasping for air. Leaning on the tub's edge, he carelessly pulled his hair away, while his warm hand continued its way to his needy manhood. When his palm finally wrapped around his hot flesh, a slight blush appeared on his face and he moaned softly. He closed his eyes again, jerking off slowly and imagining…
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The loud clatter of your heels echoed in his head. There was no one around, just a familiar corridor and a few closed doors. The Winter Soldier knew exactly what this place was, so did you. His steps were steady, while you were running as fast as you could. It was very dark behind the corner ahead, but you were not going to stop. The Asset smiled in satisfaction when he heard your frightened shriek, as he was close enough to catch you. He gave you a chance to run away on purpose, because he knew pretty well - you wanted to be chased… and subdued.
Looking around, he slowed down a little and listened to the surroundings. A slight creaking of the door caught his attention. Of course, the meeting room - where else could you hide now? The Winter Soldier stretched his arms to relax, moving unhurriedly straight down the corridor.
The meeting room was barely lit, making your situation more complicated. You didn't really have much time to think of the best place to hide. So you quickly crawled under a large table, holding your breath steady. You were sure - sooner or later the Asset would be here to catch you, he always did.
Time froze abruptly, when you heard a quiet sound from the front door. You could clearly hear the firm footsteps across the room. A chilling cold ran down your spine, causing you to back up a little. Your pencil skirt was pulled up slightly, revealing your black stockings. Covering your mouth with a shaking hand, you suddenly noticed his heavy combat boots. The Winter Soldier's muffled breath was the only sound in the room, as he moved carefully along the perimeter, trying not to make any noise. You closed your eyes in fear only for a second, and when you opened them, there was nothing in your sight. With a quick look around, you decided to seize the moment and run away from there. After taking a deep breath, you started to move forward very quietly. Just when you thought your plan was successful, you felt a cold metal arm grabbing you roughly by the hair. In one swift motion, the Asset set you on your feet, looking at you intently from head to toe.
"Let me go, please!" You were desperately trying to get out of his grasp, but the more you struggled, the harder he held you.
"You loved to play with me so much, as much as you love to bring me pain, and now you're asking me to let you go?" His voice was lightly muted, because of a black mask that covered his face firmly.
There was nothing for you to say in response, he got you once again. The Winter Soldier pinned you sharply against the tabletop, loosening his grip on you slightly. You looked him straight in the eyes, feeling his harsh hand slipping under your skirt. The Asset stroked your legs slowly, admiring your black stockings. You sighed in embarrassment and grasped his flesh palm. There should be a sassy smile on his face, as he pressed you tighter against him. He moved his metal arm to cup your cheekbone carefully, sliding it down to your soft lips. You almost lost your breath when his cool fingers parted your mouth, making you suck them gently. The table behind you was very cold, and you shuddered every time he pressed you harder.
"Your beautiful body feels so good in my hands, malyshka (baby)." The Winter Soldier tried to breathe in your sweet scent, but you moved away from him quickly. He growled a bit angry and raised his displeased gaze, squeezing your hip almost painfully. You whimpered silently, watching how he pulled a steel knife from the holster on his leg. He flipped it deftly in his flesh hand, and his blue eyes never leaving yours.
"You d-dont need to do this. Stop!" A frightening feeling of a cold blade on your neck silenced you immediately.
"Every time, the same thing. You might have thought of something new already." As soon as the Asset said that, he took off his mask abruptly, and pressed a hot kiss to your lips. You couldn't move away, because you were scared of getting a cut. So it was quite easy for him to slide his wet tongue into your heated mouth.
The kiss was becoming deep and rough very quickly, and his metal arm was holding your face in place. The Winter Soldier lowered the knife to your breast, rubbing your nipple through your white blouse. You arched your back, leaning harder on the table, and he helped you to sit on top of it. With careful, barely perceptible strokes, he cut the thin fabric of your blouse, exposing your lovely breasts. The Asset immediately licked your nipple, taking it avidly into his mouth and forcing you to lie on your back. You moaned slightly from his touch, running your fingers through his soft hair.
His metal hand pulled up your skirt and spread your legs apart, so he could stand comfortably between them. When you felt the cold blade on your panties, you squeezed your eyes shut and held your breath.
"Show me how wet you are, moya razvratnaya devochka (my naughty girl)." Your body was shaking, but you obediently opened your legs wider, allowing him to see your arousal dripping through your thin underwear. The Winter Soldier ran a trail of kisses from your neck down to your stomach. Moving lower, he made a slow lick along your delicate folds, pushing your wet panties aside. You couldn't hold back your nasty moans, desperately grabbing the wooden tabletop. "Is that what you want so badly?" the Asset smirked a bit, stroking your thigh at the edge of your black stocking.
"Oh yes, please! Please, Солдат (Soldat)." You were gasping for air from your own desire. A sudden rubbing touch from a knife handle on your burning clit, made your whole body tensed like a spring. You were completely under the Winter Soldier control, and he was enjoying every moment of it. Within a few seconds the handle was covered with your arousal, it slid so smoothly between your thighs, you could literally feel every bump on it. You whimpered when he stopped moving, and got up a bit to watch him licking your juices from that damn knife handle. Your cheeks were burning with excitement and lust.
"Relax, malyshka (baby)," he said, pushing you to lay on the table again. The Asset came back between your legs, and began to suck your sensitive clit. Then he added his metal fingers, pumping you slowly, but very deeply.
You were jolting from pleasure, when his flesh hand squeezed your breast, pinching your hard nipple roughly. Just a little longer and you were about to cum. He could feel how your pulsing core clenched around his wet tongue, making him move even faster. Your hands grabbed him by the back of his head, and your legs were shaking from the crazy sensation.
“That’s it, girl.” The Winter Soldier wiped away the droplets of your arousal with his metal fingers, sucking them pleasedly.
Your breathing was heavy, and your body was still trembling, but the Asset wasn't going to give you a break. With a quick movement, he lowered you to your knees in front of him. It was so hot around here, and you felt very dizzy. He grabbed you by the head, making you look at him. His blue eyes were completely dark, and his face was flaming with passion. The Winter Soldier ran his metal fingers over your swollen lips, letting you taste yourself on it. You moaned slightly when you felt him stroking your hair gently.
"Ah, I almost forgot." He looked down into his pocket and pulled out the shiny handcuffs. With a quick glance at you, he threw them at your feet. "Put them on." Your heart stopped for a moment.
"What?" You confusedly watched his palm slide down his powerful hips. After a few seconds, he unzipped his tactical pants, releasing his hot flesh. The Asset smirked at you when he saw your reaction to his thick cock.
"I said - put them on. Shall I repeat it again, malyshka (baby)?" You lowered your guilty eyes at the handcuffs a bit skeptically, but you decided to do as he told you. The metal bracelets snapped easily around your wrists, making you even more vulnerable for him. A dark smile never leaving his face, while you were doing this. "Come here, my obedient girl."
Your body was trembling, and your mind was seized by temptation. The distance between you and the Winter Soldier was very short, but those few centimeters were hard to come by. As soon as you got closer to him, he wrapped his metal hand around your neck.
"You have a very talented little mouth. It brought me so much pain... Maybe I should make you feel pain too?" He tightened his grip, making you choke. Your eyes began to water from the lack of air.
"I... I didn't want... I had no choice." Suddenly he released you, pressing his hot manhood against your flushed lips.
"It was a rhetorical question. Stop talking, malyshka (baby)." His insistence made you feel weak.
You sighed heavily, and began to lick his hard cock along its full length. Your movements were very careful at first, until his strong hand grabbed your hair tightly. The Asset was looking at you with slightly closed eyes. His breathing became fast, when your wet lips wrapped around his burning flesh. You were trying to take his length as deep as you could, feeling how your tears were dripping down your cheeks. The Winter Soldier stopped you abruptly and took out his twitching cock, only to push it even deeper in your throat. For a second you thought you were going to choke completely, and your hands were pretty useless in this situation, but you tried to grab onto his thighs. His hot cum was running from your lips to your breasts, and your head was about to blow off from that crazy pace. The Asset moaned lightly, slowing his movements and putting himself off of you.
"Such a naughty little girl you are, and you know it." With these words, he picked you up and turned around, pressing against the table. You were pretty exhausted, and your hands started to hurt a bit from the handcuffs cutting into your skin. The Winter Soldier spanked your ass cheek harshly, rubbing his hard cock against your oversensitive core. He was teasing your neck with his tongue, pressing himself closer to your body.
"Солдат (Soldat), take me. Please..." Your voice was unrecognizable and so submissive. An avalanche of goosebumps ran down the Asset's body.
"You want me to fuck you, filling you up to your limits?" You could feel his scalding breath on your skin and his hands squeezing your breasts tightly.
"Yeah, ruin my body. Take it!" That was the last straw of his patience.
In one quick move, the Winter Soldier slipped inside you, gripping your thigh painfully. The handcuffs didn't allow you to move your arms normally, so you just accepted it. He didn't let you adjust to his size, picking up the pace quickly. His strong hips were thrusting roughly into yours, making you whimper and shiver from the pleasure. The Asset pressed your face against the smooth tabletop, lifting your right leg up a bit. From that angle he could impale you even deeper, and that was too much for both of you. Your loud moans filled all the surrounding space, mingling with the sounds of meeting flesh. An overwhelming release washed over you like a thunderclap. The Winter Soldier held you by your waist, pounding you harshly and kissing all along your arching back. You couldn't even shake under his solid body, it was too heavy. The Asset squeezed your cuffed hands with his metal arm, pulling away from you slowly. You were rolled over again, and you felt your spine aching with fatigue.
"I want you to remember this one, moya malen'kaya malyshka (my little baby)," the Winter Soldier made a nasty growl and greeted his teeth. You watched him jerking off and cumming right between your legs. He grabbed your inner thigh harshly, fondling it with his warm palm.
His hot arousal was flowing down your wet folds, mixing with your own juices. You bit your lip in overwhelming ecstasy, clutching the handcuffs with your fingers. The Asset pushed away his sweaty hair, looking at your exhausted body. The surrounding air was hotter than the mouth of a volcano, and your skin was literally burning.
"Do you like this feeling? When you don't belong to yourself ?" You whined when his harsh thumb began to rub your sore clit. He smirked a bit, and started thrusting into you again.
You didn't even have enough energy to moan, nor to speak. His hard flesh was assaulting you so passionately, causing another release to build up inside your gut. The Winter Soldier was watching his impressive manhood disappearing in your sensitive core, trying so badly not to cum again.
"Tell me, girl!" He grabbed you suddenly by the waist, forcing you to wrap your legs around his muscled lower back. Your cuffed hands were desperately holding onto his massive shoulder, as his hips were meeting yours with rough motions.
"Yeah... I belong only to you, Солдат (Soldat), I..." You moaned hoarsely in his ear, feeling your body jolting from crazy satisfaction.
The Asset pressed you closer to his broad chest, catching your soft lips with his own. You were kissing so eagerly, and your tongues were entwined in a passionate dance. All those nasty wet sounds from the way he was impaling you, made a huge release wash over him. He filled you up to the limit with his hot cum, making you feel totally subdued. Both of you were trembling with unimaginable orgasm, and he struggled to stay on his feet, holding you tightly in his strong arms.
You looked intently at the Winter Soldier, pressing your palm against his cheek. He closed his eyes for a moment, feeling the pleasurable sensation of your soft skin. With a siwft motion, his metal arm broke the handcuffs, pressing your fingers against his swollen lips. Your hearts were beating in unison, and your sweaty bodies felt as one.
"Я всегда буду с тобой (I'll be with you forever)." Your gentle voice touched him one last time, before your face disappeared into the darkness…
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The Asset opened his eyes widely, finding himself in the same ice tub. His metal arm was wrapped tensely around his twitching cock, making it hard for him to breath. He exhaled loudly, realizing that his perfect illusion had completely fallen to pieces. Barely visible drops of sweat dripped from his forehead, outlining his perfect face. Total silence shrouded the Winter Soldier once again, but he could still hear the echoes of your words in his head, and smell your sweet scent in the air. His heart was on fire, and even the cold water couldn't cool down his heated body. The frantic arousal tormented him continuously, giving him a feeling of being a slave to his own lust.
Sudden loud footsteps from the outside pulled him out of his thoughts. The Asset got up from the bath slowly, searching for a towel. After a couple of seconds he realized it wasn't here. The front door was opened quietly, revealing a blonde-haired woman with a bedspread in her hands. She shuddered in shock from the sight of the Winter Soldier's naked body. Small drops of water were running down his sculpted muscles and falling to the tiled floor with a faint sound. He glanced uninterestedly in her direction, standing sideways.
"I, I am sorry!" Miranda's confused voice only made him more irritated.
The Asset turned around and headed calmly towards her, causing the woman to catch her breath. When he was beside her, she parted her lips slightly, looking into his steel eyes. A skeptical squint appeared on his face as he noticed her rapid panting. This situation was making him insanely angry, but also a bit amused. Without any thinking, he swiftly snatched the fabric out of her hands and walked past her without even looking back. Miranda was left alone, clenching her fists in displeasure.
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That night was special. Just because he could finally be close to you, after all this time, which had seemed like an eternity. With these thoughts, the Winter Soldier was on his way to Block C. He knew exactly in what room you were, after he heard the scientists talking about it. It wasn't simple luck that one of the scientists disappeared under mysterious circumstances, but he really didn't care about it. The Asset was ordered to join the search, so he was actually doing his job, and you would be his priceless reward. The long corridor that led to your room was filled with heavily armed Hydra agents. As soon as they saw the Winter Soldier coming, they spread out to clear the way.
At first, he dared to step inside, carefully touching the doorknob. He didn't know if you were asleep or not, and what would be better. Taking a deep breath, he slowly opened the door, causing a slight draft. Your room was very small, but pretty cozy. The Asset slowly looked around, noticing a small bookshelf with numerous books. Then his gaze fell on the table beside your bed, and he saw some unknown pills. He shook his head irritably, coming closer to you. Your breathing was rapid, but you were lying motionless. His eyes slid over your shape, longing to touch it. The Winter Soldier smirked naughty, imagining everything he would do with your alluring body. He's been waiting for this too long… All this pain and arousal that had tortured him would finally find its release.
His metal arm was an inch from your neck, when your sudden deep sigh echoed across the room. He immediately realized you were awake. Your smooth hair was scattered across the pillow, and he mentally stroked each of your curls. The Asset really couldn't understand why he stopped, simply admiring your heaving breasts. Nor could he realize how something within him began to prick at the sight of your innocent purity. Could he actually hurt you? This question stuck in his head, but it was time to go, he knew it and he hated it. The Winter Soldier gave one last look at you, leaning slightly to see your peaceful face. After that, he pulled away quickly and walked towards the exit, never turning back.
"Ty budesh' pomnit' menya, kak ya tebya, i nikto ne otnimet eto u nas. Ya obeshchayu, malyshka (You will remember me, as I do, and no one will take it from us. I promise, baby)."
Was it a whisper or just his illusive thought again - no one would ever know.
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