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#lunarbuck masterlist
lunarbuck · 2 years
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☆ masterlist ☆
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updated october 12- my blog is 18+ and so are all of my fics!!
Welcome to my masterlist <3 Here you will find all of my fics!! They are separated by character, and as I write for new people I will add them here :)
All of my reader/yn fics purposefully do not describe the reader's appearance much so the reader can be ANY RACE and in most cases, ANY BODY TYPE
please let me know if you have any specific requests for something you'd like to see <3
my 2023 wip list | follow my library blog @lunarbucklibrary
read all individual warnings on posts before reading
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Bucky Barnes - The Winter Soldier
series masterlist
one shot masterlist
Popular Fics
This Must Be My Dream (bfb!bucky au)
Easy (bucky x f!avengers!reader)
What Once Was (Bucky Barnes x OFC)
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Sheriff Lee Bodecker
Layin' Down the Law (Lee Bodecker x f!reader)
Clothes. Off. Now
Kinktober: Thigh Riding
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Loki Laufeyson
Dance With The Devil (mafia!loki x f!reader)
Vampire!Loki Drabble
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Sam Wilson - Captain America
Naughty List (Sam Wilson x f!reader)
Are you wearing my shirt? (Sam Wilson x f!reader)
Kinktober: Phone Sex
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Steve Rogers - Captain America
Baby It's Cold Outside (Stuckyxf!reader)
Fever Pitch (Steve Rogers x f!reader)
In Our Element (college!stucky x f!reader)
Kinktober: Love Bites (Steve Rogers x f!reader)
Kinktober: Table/Threesome/Sensory Dep (Stucky x f!reader)
Kinktober: Double Penetration (Stucky x f!reader)
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Ari Levinson
Say My Name (soft dark!ari x f!reader)
Beach Day (dbf!ari x f!reader)
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Kinktober 2023
461 notes · View notes
flordeamatista · 7 months
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THE MAGICIAN
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pairing: mafia!lloyd hansen x reader x mafia!nick fowler
concept:  Ecstasy and intense burn fuse together like mirrors falling from the sky.
word count: 2k
warnings: mirror sex + chase kink + double penetration (vaginal and anal), soft dubcon to be safe, mature themes,unprotected sex, nickname ──(Princess, Sunshine) (flashing gif ── glitching gif)
lovely beta: @writing-for-marvel & @lunarbuck
THE WITCHING HOUR ──── KINKTOBER'23
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masterlist
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A gentle breeze of cold, wet air won't make your fears disappear.
Rain continued to pour down, the icy drops searing your skin as you stepped into the abandoned carnival. Gunfire and lightning lit up the sky, a vivid warning that he lurked around every corner.
Your stomach twisted with terror as you pushed open the carnival gates. Your face was soaked in raindrops, and you felt fear rising from your bones. The cold air reminded you that you were alone and fighting for every moment.
With a charcoal sky in the background, the fairground rides spun and creaked, their colors competing with the smoke from gunshots echoing among them. The thrill rides became a roar of chaos as everyone screamed in response to each gunshot.
In the darkness above, fluffy clouds were tinted black, interrupted only by flickering flames that licked up like tongues of fire, illuminating the whole scene in an eerie carnival glow.
A thick, chaotic energy descended over the scene, overwhelming the sense of tension and stillness. It was clear that his anger had reached a boiling point. 
It was all your fault.
His face was contorted in rage as he surveyed his domain, stomping around and smashing anything that dared cross his path.
During his shooting spree, your name was shouted.
Two paths lay before you - one led to safety through the House of Mirrors, and the other led to certain death.
The faint red light shining from ahead made your stomach churn with fear. Darkness filled the air with dread and suffering. While explosions echoed in the distance, you remained indecisive.
Tightly clenching your hands, you took a deep breath before reluctantly stepping forward.
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Stepping through the entrance, you removed your jacket. Your senses were overwhelmed by his words running through your mind. Reflections gleamed off the walls as if you were trapped in a time warp. There was a shakiness in your breathing. A wall of mirrors reflected each other in an endless regression of images.
Suddenly, your nose was filled with the unmistakable aromas of a man before his rough hands snatched your waist and pulled you back towards his chest.  
You fell to your knees. His rough hand covered your mouth while he pulled his gun from its holster at his waistband, keeping it cool against your neck. Moving your body left, you tried to squirm away from his gun. When his hands reached your shoulders, he squeezed them and pushed you back down.
“Shhh… Sunshine. What are you doing here?” The gun barrel pressed into your throat as he straddled you, crushing you beneath his full weight. Whistling escaped his lips, but when he took the gun away from your neck, only emptiness followed. His eyes were on your rear end as he groped away from your neck and down to give you a squeeze. “I'm here to help us." He pushed himself off you and offered you his hand, forcing you to look at him directly through his crystal blue eyes. 
Your tears streamed down your face, and you squeezed your eyelids shut. It was exhausting running from him, maybe this was all you had left.
However, you would meet his enemy, and you didn’t not know whether that would be a victory or a defeat.
"Us?” you spat out. It was clear to you who was holding you down, and you also knew that he didn’t play by the rules.
“Yes, Sunshine, because you have things I want from you. And you need me desperately."
Through your lashes, you saw his eyes scan over your body as he wound his gun from your lips to your breasts.
The voice of this man is familiar to you, one who is labeled as a narcissistic sociopath and who is incapable of empathy for anyone except himself. Your plans were at the center of his fucked up plan for you.
Glistening demonic blue eyes just gave you a hint at what he wanted.
“Leave me alone, Lloyd! You're no better than him," you shouted. 
The darkening of his eyes and the calloused grip of his hands told you just how angry he was. Then he ran his fingers delicately along your blouse’s lacing until they rested on your breasts. 
Pulling you close, he tied your arms behind your body. He held you tight in place as you gasped in shock and stepped back. Lloyd pulled his gun from his back pocket as he leaned forward to kiss you. His grip was firm as his lips pressed against yours, and you could feel his tenacious body bear down on you, making you shiver. In fear, you struggled to loosen his grip, but he only tightened it more. 
"That's fine," he growled with a mocking smirk. "We can do it that way too." 
Your wrists were bound behind your back, the rope digging into your skin. Lloyd had spun you around and pushed you up against the cold mirror glass. You could feel every muscle in his body as he pressed against yours. He made every inch of himself felt, from his thick cock to the smirk on his lips. It was an out-of-body experience, being touched all over by someone else's hands while they did it for their own pleasure. 
Taking out a handkerchief from his pocket, Lloyd moved it towards your face and filled your nostrils with a pungent smell. Once you were feeling lightheaded from the dizzying scent, he whispered, "I've got you, Sunshine," into your ear before sweeping you up and carrying you into the depths of the house of mirrors.
The air was filled with gloomy lust.
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You sat on a chair in nothing but your underwear. The walls of the room were lined with mirrors containing an image of yourself so you could see every angle of how you ended up here.
The man behind it all was Mafia King, Lloyd Hansen; he seemed to have total control over any situation at all times, even when he was losing.
Lloyd placed his hand on your shoulder as he leaned down.
“I know what you want," you said in a soft voice, "but I'm not going to give it to you no matter how hard you try." 
Slowly, his hand maneuvered down the front of your underwear to gently touch your clit.
"You like this, don't you? I heard you had him under your spell, so let me have a taste, Sunshine."
You refused to break, spitting on him as he smiled unbothered by your defiance. 
"My cock will surely break you, Sunshine. But the worst punishment will be sharing you with him since you decided to cross into neutral territory," he said sinisterly.
On cue, Nick Fowler appeared in the frame of the mirror, clapping as if watching a play. "Ah," Lloyd murmured, "he's here."
“Hello, Princess. Looks like you got yourself into an even bigger mess with two mafia men.” 
Taking Lloyd's knife from his back pocket and untying the rope, Nick walked alongside the chair and forced you to stand up. He grabbed your throat firmly and locked his piercing blue gaze on you. 
Slowly, Lloyd's hands rubbed the inside of your thighs while pushing them further apart. He weighed your response as he smirked at you.
The only thing you could do was whine and try to keep your eyes open.
A buzz of anticipation filled your body.
"Shh, Princess," whispered Nick. "Take a look in the mirror. See what he is doing to you."
The smirk on Lloyd’s face appeared as he placed his two fingers on either side of your swelling lips. You don’t tell him to stop. 
Sensual and delicate to the touch.
Nick's fingertips gently massaged each of your breasts, savouring the softness and firmness. When he heard you moaning, he gently squeezed your nipples until they hardened between his forefinger and thumb.
Slowly, Lloyd inserted a finger inside you, followed by another, causing your hips to rock forward. 
For them, finding the information they needed took only seconds. You, on the other hand, enjoyed them taking their sweet time devouring every part of your body.
"Fuck, you're soaking wet, and we've only just begun." Fear gripped you as your head was clouded in fog. You could feel Lloyd's rough hands against your neck. You could feel your pussy becoming wet just by the simple touch.
Your nose was filled with the scent of sweat and whiskey. Lloyd smoothed his other hand over your spine as if it were a stream of water flowing down it.
“Remember, Princess, we are on neutral territory and that means you have to deal with both of us.” Nick’s voice was firm but distant as it echoed off the mirrors. 
Nick’s warm breath tickled your neck as he slowly eased himself inside you, inch by inch. His moans of pleasure filled the room as you were engulfed by his hard, thick cock. Every time Nick thrust into you, he took you to new levels of pleasure.
You felt Lloyd's chest pressing against your back as Nick moved faster and faster, increasing in intensity until you finally screamed out in pleasure. 
“Let me fuck this ass. Maybe she’ll tell us with two dicks in her holes." Lloyd began blowing air on your back while he moaned about what he wanted to do with you as Nick thrust in and out. "Let's get you warmed up"
That's how this is gonna feel, baby, so strong that it'll make you alive. 
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“Open her up for me, Nick” 
Nick's hands glided down your body, cupping either side of your ass. His fingers pried apart your cheeks. Gentle but assertive pressure let you know he was readying you for Lloyd. 
Lloyd's eyes smiled into yours as his tip tested the waters. You felt a slight burn as he inched inside your tightness. “Kitten, oh, Kitten,” he murmured, coaxing you along. 
Nick pulled away slightly and demanded that you look at him. He captured your gaze with his own, and the intensity in the double mirror reflection was almost too much to take in.
The sensation of being filled by both men triggered moans and gasps to erupt from deep within you. 
“Look at you taking us in,” Lloyd said reassuringly as his hand moved back and forth on your spine. He delivered a sharp slap to your ass, sending shivers racing through your body. 
His lips left a trail of heat down your neck, teasingly stroking the sensitive area that instantly made your body hum. One hand rubbed circles around your clit while the other teased and tugged at it. You sank further into their embrace as both men pressed deeper into you, and the sensations swirled through your body. Their groans and cries pushed against your body's walls until finally, they reached an explosive release.
You clenched around the two dangerous men, and they spilled their cum in you as they fought over pleasure and pain.
 Ecstasy and intense burn fuse together like mirrors falling from the sky.
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567 notes · View notes
buckrecs · 7 months
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ARE YOU LOST IN THE WOODS?
then this is the right place for you! this is a masterlist of all bucky barnes 2023 kinktober masterlists. I do not own any of the masterlists below, so please read all the warnings from the og creater before proceeding. have fun in the woods 🪄◝✩
you can submit your kinktober masterlist here!
banner credit to the amazing & talented @rookthorne 🧡
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@lunarbuck masterlist
@writing-for-marvel masterlist
@boxofbonesfic masterlist
@jobean12-blog masterlist
@holylulusworld masterlist
@thyme-in-a-bubble masterlist
@vellicore masterlist
@mcondance masterlist
@jessybarnes masterlist
@myfictionaldreams masterlist
@cottontears masterlist
@buckys-wintersoldier masterlist
@flordeamatista masterlist
@uselesssomebody masterlist
@lostalioth masterlist
@luvrxbunny masterlist
@smolkiwi98 masterlist
@ramp-it-up masterlist
@honeybloomss masterlist
@madhattervanessa masterlist
@kidney9-9 masterlist
@captainamericasmotercycle masterlist
@queerpumpkinnn masterlist
@sageispunk masterlist
@ravenromanova masterlist
@the-queen-of-hell-666 masterlist
@kining-the-evil masterlist
@geeky-politics-46 masterlist
@lieutnt masterlist
@hoedamn-eron masterlist
@georgiapeach30513 masterlist
@stuckymonkey masterlist
@sergeantbarnessdoll masterlist
@insomniumstella baby, she’s all yours
@1-800-jjbarnes a moment to last forever
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main masterlist
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jen-with-a-pen · 11 months
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F O X HUNT
summary: Not only has HYDRA executed their infiltration on S.H.I.E.L.D., but they have also reclaimed their finest weapon. Your safety isn't the only thing that's compromised.
pairings: WS!Beefy!Bucky Barnes x F!Avenger!Reader
word count: 6.1k
warnings: chasing, being hunted down, implied n0n-con elements, canon-level violence, cursing, implied t0rture, blood, beat1ngs, forced nud1ty, language, HYDRA-level cruelty, Bucky gets Brainwashed (again), there's Steve x Reader if you squint REALLY REALLY hard
read here on ao3!
a/n: This was inspired by last year's Whumptober Day 2: NOWHERE TO RUN - CORNERED, CAGED AND CONFRONTATION. I know it's February JUNE, but shit came up and my motivation tanked lmao thanks adhd med trials Literally have never done a dark(er?) fic before and this one has been cooking for god knows how fucking long now. I hope y'all like it <3 (also the hydra victory au is something i discovered from the lovely @lunarbuck reset series and stewed obsessively over for literal months now. still obsessed with it whoops)
dividers by @firefly-graphics | gif by @lost-shoe | @hydravictrix
my ao3 | my masterlist
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Translations
Lisitsa | лисица - fox/little fox
Soldat | солдат - soldier
Syuda | сюда - over here
Khitraya suka | хитрая сука - sly bitch
Moy priz | мой приз - my prize
Glupaya pizda | глупая пизда - stupid cunt
Moye | мое - mine
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The infiltration was subtle at the start.
A few missions gone mysteriously wrong, agents killed in action or disappearing entirely, hacks that were, thankfully, contained within an inch of a full-blown data breach. All of it seemed so coincidental when it happened, swept under the rug each and every single time before Director Fury could have a swear-filled say as to what the hell was going on. 
But hindsight is 20/20. It always is.
The day S.H.I.E.L.D. fell was, ironically, the perfect day: brilliant sunshine, clear blue skies, a breeze weaving between the towering buildings and skyscrapers. It was almost eerie, in a way, how perfect of a day it was. 
You found yourself in the gym, Steve and Sam hashing it out on whose turn it was in sparring. You had all but knocked Sam out cold in the previous round as Steve watched from behind the ropes, cheering you on with a cocky, proud grin as he watched all of his hard work in your training pay off.
Of course, the stubborn ass he was, Sam wanted another go. 
“C’mon, Steve! I wanna rematch!” Sam protested, gesturing wildly in your direction with one hand while his other held an ice pack to his bruised temple. Steve stifled a laugh, tossing a glance over his shoulder to you. You shook your head, smiling back as you gulped down the rest of your water bottle. Cool strands spilled out from the corners of your lips and down your chest. You welcomed the relief from the sweat gluing your t-shirt to your skin. 
“How ‘bout I take Steve instead of giving you another concussion?” you retorted, giggling as Sam shot a narrow look at you. He huffed, forfeiting his argument by waving a dismissive hand. 
“Fine, ’m gonna go find some pain meds,” he grumbled, turning to point a swollen finger at Steve. “I better see you in the infirmary next, Cap.” 
He stomped off through the metal doors and left the two of you in silence.
“Whaddya say, sweetheart? You up for round two?” Steve teased, stepping under the ropes and into the ring. He wrapped his hands as he moved to the center, muscle memory carrying him while keeping his eager gaze on you. His eyes carried excitement as they journeyed up and down your figure, rolling his lip between his teeth as he drank you with his stare. 
You did little to hide your pride at the Captain checking you out, chewing the corner of your cheek to tame your own smirk at the beautiful blond. You turned away, hiding the heat from your cheeks as you tossed your bottle at your bag. You weaved under the ropes, coming face to face with your willing opponent in the center. You lifted your chin to meet his, the hidden smirk on your lips growing into a grin.
“With you? Always, old man,” you purred. You tossed him a teasing wink as you positioned your fists in front of you, feet planted firmly in the starting stance. Steve lingered on you for a second longer, tongue swiping across his lips hungrily as he cracked his neck and rolled his shoulders, raising his hands to mirror you.
The two of you began to circle one another, dancing in a familiar pattern you knew by heart. Steve took his first swipe at you and you ducked, managing a hit to his stomach. A grunt escaped from him– not of hurt but of thrill. He lunged for you as you dodged again, blocking his failed strike to your head. 
“Wow! You really can’t teach an old dog new tricks!” you taunted, dodging another blow, his wrapped fist only grazing your shoulder. You rolled it back, holding back a slight wince as you continued the violent waltz. 
You lunged at him, instead faltering and falling to the ground. Readying the curse on your tongue, it stopped short of your lips as you looked up at Steve. 
He stood frozen in place, panting, fists at his sides clenching tighter and tighter. As you opened your mouth to unload even more cursing questions, screeching erupted from the loudspeakers around the room. High-pitched tones screaming above, a robotic voice speaking clinically and quickly. You scrambled off the floor, unease creeping in as you latched onto Steve’s arm, his arm tensing under your touch.
CODE WHITE. CODE SILVER. ALL SECURITY AND TEAM UNITS URGENTLY NEEDED. 40th FLOOR. THREAT IS ACTIVE AND HIGHLY DANGEROUS. REPEAT. CODE WHITE. CODE SILVER. ALL SECURITY AND TEAM UNITS–
The message had cut out, static replacing it alongside the echoing alarms throughout the hallways outside the gym. You looked up at Steve. Anxiety surged upon finding his face devoid of all blood, his jaw slack, eyes boring into the metal doors leading to the hallway. He looked scared. 
You’d never seen Steve scared before. 
“Steve, what the fuck was that–”
“Get to the locker rooms and hide,” he ordered. He pulled his arm from you, jumping over the ropes and sprinting to his duffel bag on the floor. He pulled out his phone and dialed frantically as he ran to the doors. 
“Steve!” You stood trembling in the ring as your stomach churned. 
“Now!” he yelled. “I’ll come back for you!” 
He didn’t wait to hear your response as he slammed the gym doors shut, followed by a whir and click.
He locked you in. 
You didn’t– couldn’t– hesitate as a surge of urgency overtook you. You needed to hide. Now. Fast.
Your legs carried you as you jumped out of the ring and raced to grab your duffel bag, sprinting to the back of the gym through another set of double doors. You wove through the tiled maze of the locker room searching for some sort of hiding spot, settling on the showers. You snuck over to the stall at the very end, the closest one to the emergency exit, and ducked under the opaque plastic curtain. Your bag fell to the floor as you climbed onto the stall seat. Blood pumped in your ears, thumping as quickly as your shaky, shallow breathing. Millions of thoughts and questions and worries rushed through your mind at impossible speeds.
White and Silver. Which alert was that for?
You racked through fleeting memories, distant recollections of training and orientation from months ago, searching for anything remotely familiar. You remembered all of the other codes– red, orange, teal– but no white, no silver. 
A faint buzzing sounded from inside your duffel. You lunged, unzipping it and fishing out your phone. Natasha. Her name lit up the screen and you frantically hit the answer key before the call could even think about dropping.
“Where the fuck are you?” Her panicked voice hissed into your ear. Her edged tone was enough to make your stomach backflip faster. 
“Locker rooms, forty-fifth floor. What the fuck is going on, Nat?” Your voice shook as anger and confusion boiled in your blood.
A muffled swear. “Where’s Steve?”
“He ran out, locked me in, told me to hide.” More incoherent curses.
“Fuck, fuck, okay, look, trust me on this, you need to stay where you are, okay? I can get you out, I–” 
High-pitched ringing overtook the speaker, sending you reeling away from the receiver. Static echoed out of the speakers.
“You what? Natasha!”
“No– time– you–”
“Natasha! Hello?”
Beep. Beep. Beep.
You tore the phone away from your ear and choked back the bile rising in your throat. Service was out. The blinking bars at the top of the screen mocked you and your sudden plunge into isolation. 
The lights went next. 
The dull fluorescents flickered. Someone cut the electricity, sending you into almost darkness as the backup generator lights kicked on. Scattered lights from above cast an eerie yellow glow over the shower tiles. You’d only seen this kind of outage happen once before, when New York was hit with Hurricane Noah a few years back.
The fear you felt in that storm paled in comparison to what you felt now.
You sighed, shaky and surrendering, and pulled your body closer to you on the shower bench. A chill snaked its way down your spine as your skin brushed the cool ceramic, an unwelcome addition to the cold already enveloping you. Your sweat-soaked t-shirt and shorts failed to aid you and your aching muscles. Fingernails dug into your kneecaps in a struggle to stop trembling as you tried to focus on your breathing. Inhaling, exhaling, in, out. Screwing your eyes shut, praying to any deity imaginable it was all just a drill, it was all an accident or a misunderstanding or–
The ground shook as a loud bang echoed from outside the locker room. A panicked yelp escaped your throat before your hands could scramble and cover your mouth. You froze as the tremors subsided and listened. It, or they, sounded close. 
Too close. 
Another BANG! Then another. 
Rhythmic, steady blows, each quicker and more powerful than the last. Hands clamped tighter over your lips until your blood froze at the sounds of crushing steel and crumbling concrete. The lump in your throat grew as horrific realization flooded over you. 
They, or it, broke in.
You couldn’t wrap your head around it– those doors were more fortified than Tony’s lab. Four-inch-thick, steel and plexiglass doors with a three-tier secured locking system. Nothing, nobody– not even the strongest Super Soldier– was powerful enough to make the faintest of dents in them.
Racing through who, or what, could have possibly broken into the gym, your train of thought derailed as echoes of men yelling indecipherable words and mixed commands shattered the remaining air of safety you clung to. Listening intently, a mix of combat boots and tactical gear filtered in with the echoed commands.
The S.T.R.I.K.E. Team.
Your legs begged for reprieve from crouching, but your body disobeyed and froze you in place. Part of you didn’t trust who was outside. Footsteps and gruff voices became heavier, closer. The relief that greeted you was replaced again by panic as you listened closer.
Clear, Russian commands resonated at the entrance to the locker rooms. They were coming in. 
Your breath hitched, blood running cold as footsteps closed in. It was one person, but their steps didn’t sound like the heavy boots before them. They sounded more like…
Sneakers?
The rubber from the intruder’s shoes squeaked on the tiled floors. Ragged breathing echoed off the walls. A low growl, accompanied by quiet whirring. Someone big, someone mean. 
Your heart made its way to your throat as the intruder inched closer. Slow, methodical, as if trained in search and rescue. 
It didn’t feel like a rescue.
The lump almost turned into a scream as an echoed BANG carried from the bathroom stalls around the corner. Silence followed, then a growl, then another BANG. The cycle repeated for the remaining stalls, the intruder slowly creeping along. Growls became deeper upon each disappointment. 
Hostages. They were looking for hostages.
Soles squeaked as the intruder changed course, stomping around the corner to search the line of shower stalls. You hiccuped a sob, realizing tears started to trail down your cheeks. Biting your palm only proved a lame attempt to calm your racing heart, a scream threatening to leave your throat as they began tearing the plastic curtains off the stalls. Each clang of metal cracking onto the tile became closer as you ground your teeth into the meat of your hand. Eyes screwed shut, silent prayers raced in your head, pleading to wake up; to wake up from this hellscape of a sick, twisted nightmare. 
The intruder’s steps stopped. 
Your eyes opened, widening at the blurred, hulking shadow standing outside of your stall. They had to be well over six feet. Towering, bulky, monstrous. 
Slowly, the shadow’s hand reached for the curtain. One by one, its fingers closed around the plastic’s edge, preparing to rip it down and rip you open. Eyes burning, hot tears felt like molten metal as you attempted to make yourself as small as possible in your corner, huddling your knees as close as they could be. This was it. This was the end. You prayed– actually fucking prayed– hoping they couldn’t hear your pathetic whimpering, hoping they would make this quick, painless; break your neck or put a gun to your head and get it over with. Leave your body for someone else to find.
“Soldat, syuda!” 
The command made your heart stop.
The shadow froze, stopped by a call from the entrance to the locker room. Skin met your teeth as you bit harder into your hand. Lungs began panicking as you started hyperventilating, bile reaching your throat and burning the back of your tongue. 
The shadow, the monster, growled in protest. It retracted the curled hand from the curtain, wordlessly moving back towards the bathroom stalls. Footsteps faded as muffled conversation floated away from the locker room.
You needed to get the fuck out of there. 
You slid off the bench, legs aching and knees popping as you crouched silently over to the curtain, peeking out behind the plastic. It crinkled quietly and you bit your lip, leaning out ever so slightly over the threshold. 
Tiptoeing around the corner, you faced the emergency exit. The glowing sign omitted a creepy, green glow that added to the eeriness brought by the generator lights. 
This was it.
You slammed the push bar down, throwing the door open with your body and spilling out into the hallway. Sunlight flashed through the infinite glass hallway, blinding you. In your frozen state, you hear commotion from behind the door as it slammed shut. Banging from the other side, the sound of metal on metal, made your teeth grind. Indents from punches dented the door, deforming its smooth outside. You didn’t stay frozen for long as your body screamed at you to fucking move, now.
Your legs obeyed immediately, carrying you through the corridor to the closest means of escape you could find. As you rounded the corner, the crushing sounds of the door breaking off of its hinges hit your ears. You didn’t dare to look back, sprinting through the twists and turns of the infinite hallway. You followed what felt familiar, burning muscles egged on by the sound of pounding footsteps getting closer and closer.
Finally, you stumbled onto the entrance to a stairwell, pausing to gasp for air your lungs demanded. The burn in your legs and chest only aided in the physiological need to hyperventilate. Sweat dripped from your temple and your head pounded as hard as your feet hitting the ground. 
You leaned into the safety bar, inches away from further distancing yourself from whatever, whoever, was on your trail, when a yell erupted from the end of the hallway. 
It felt like slow-motion; one of those scenes in those cheesy horror movies Sam always made you and Steve watch on weekends off. The ones with cheap FX, bad sound, but somehow great editing for the budget. The scenes where realization hits the main character and suddenly everything is half the speed while they still move in real time. 
You turned your head towards the source. Then, it hit you. Blood drained from your face as the horror of realization hit you, like a speeding sixteen-wheeler head on.
Bucky Barnes stood hulking at the end of the hallway. Generator lights and setting sun illuminated his snarling teeth, gleaming from parted lips that had him panting like a rabid dog. If you hadn’t known better it would’ve looked like he was heading for the gym for his daily workout. Blown pupils, sweat-stuck hair, complimented by a shaking frame– most definitely caused by adrenaline, dopamine, and a slew of Gods-knew-what other drugs he had pumped into his system. Splotches of drying, smeared blood coated his neck and shirt while even more dripped onto the ground from his fists. The crimson contrasted with the medically white floors. 
Bile rose in your throat again. The acidic taste made you dry heave at the sight of the blood, knowing from the looks of Bucky it definitely wasn’t his.
He snarled as your eyes finally met. Fists of flesh and metal flexed. Rippling muscles shook as he readied to launch forward.
“You’re mine, lisitsa!” he barked. His voice booming louder than the speed of sound, it made your ears ring.
Your throat finally opened. You screamed as he sprinted towards you, making more ground down the hallway than an apex predator out of hibernation. You shoved the exit door open, heaving your legs forward as you ascended the stairs. No choice but to go up, you refused to look back– nay you didn’t dare to even consider it. Muscles and tendons and joints burned, yearning for you to stop, but the door slamming from flights below you only pushed you harder, flying up and passing floor after floor. 
You were fast, but he was faster. 
Dizziness overtook you as your vision began to blur. Darkened edges of your peripherals made you stop your climb at level 50, pausing for a split second to hear Bucky’s progress. He was close behind, but you still had more of an advantage. You knew the Tower better than him. You knew level 50 had another stairwell on the opposite side of the floor, through another hallway off the corner of your current one. Sneakers pounded too close for comfort as you shoved the door open and made a break for it down another corridor labyrinth.
If you made it out of this alive, you swore you’d kill Tony’s architect yourself. 
“You can’t hide forever, lisitsa!” Bucky’s voice rang out from the stairwell as you rounded the corner, sprinting through more identical-looking hallways. Another corner later and the glowing red EXIT sign appeared above the next stairwell. A beacon of hope, almost. Relieved, you head straight for it, body and mind and soul pushing against the burning and the gasping for air. You were right there, hand outstretched, fingertips grasping the metal bar–
It felt like a car crash. 
Not an accident or fender bender. No, it felt like seventy miles an hour meets a tree with no intent of moving. That split-second feeling where your stomach drops and you can all but brace for the deadly impact destined for you to meet.
Time stopped as you were yanked backwards. Cold, slick metal wrapped around your ankle, bloody hand print smearing some poor bastard’s DNA all over your calf as your body fell to the ground. Hard. Your jaw clenched as your chin slammed into the linoleum. Teeth ground into your tongue as copper flooded your tastebuds. Your lungs, with little wind left in them, gasped for oxygen. Another scream rising in your throat became stuck in your vocal cords. 
Bucky whipped you around as you struggled to free your lower half. You landed on your shoulder, head bouncing against the floor and teary eyes struggled to stay open and endure the pain. He straddled your form, the weight crashing down on your bones and organs. A sharp inhale impaled your chest as you met Bucky’s darkened eyes, then; the familiar steel blue replaced entirely with dilated, unhinged pupils. 
It was the first time you got a good look at his face. His face is speckled with blood spatter and several bruises spread across his cheek down his neck. Two black eyes, a bloody nose– one you hoped was his– and a broken lip. The bloodied collar of his shirt only aided in the mess of his hair. His soft, chocolate strands stuck in mats to his neck and temples with sweat and blood. 
Out of sheer habit, because he looked like your Bucky, you couldn’t help but reach a hand out to him. A soft plea for the man behind his eyes, one you begged everything holy was still there. He held your stare, face contorting into unrecognizable emotions. Tears brimmed your eyes as your hand stretched further, sobs escaping as your fingers inched closer and closer to his battered face.
“Bucky, it’s me–”
Your appeal transformed into a shriek, quickly snuffed out as Bucky wrapped his crimson-spattered metal hand around your throat. You choked, sputtering lost pleas as your hands flew to your neck. Fingernails flailed in futile attempts to claw off the weapons-grade titanium. 
“You’re done running, khitraya suka,” Bucky’s hot breath fanned your face as he leaned in. His mouth grazed your jaw, titanium hand on your throat flexing with each syllable. He slowly made his way down your neck, pushing harder into your chest with his forearm. A heavy growl. His grip only tightened as you tried to knee him in the groin, picking you up by your neck and slamming you down again.
Stars circled your blurred vision, eyes rolling back into your head. The corridor, the lights, everything split into two.
“You owe me for my victory, lisitsa,” Bucky’s husky whisper resonated in your ear as he licked the side of your face, his hot, wet mouth against your tear-stained cheek. As his free hand moved to the waistband of your shorts, another surge of panic washed through you. You tried to sputter a weak cry from your closed-off throat, blood turning cold, another scream building and building in your chest and aching for release. 
“You owe me what’s mine –!” 
BANG!
Something from somewhere all of a sudden. The object slammed into Bucky, throwing him off of you and spilling across the floor. 
Finally, your lungs lunged at the chance for air, leaving you a heaving, choking, coughing mess. Spitting at the ground as you made your way shakily to your hands and knees, a freed hand traveling to rub the fresh strangulation bruises forming on the column of your stiff neck. 
“Get the fuck off her, Bucky!” 
Steve.
As your vision cleared, the shield whizzed past you as it ricocheted back into Steve’s open arms. Bucky groaned, low and guttural, but only for a moment is he subdued. Slowly, he rose, like smoke from extinguished ashes, looking to his metal vice. A large dent adorned the weathered, bloodied appendage where his bicep met his shoulder. He then turned his attention to Steve, baring his teeth, anger coursing through him as he immediately disregarded you. His sights set on a new target, launching himself at Steve without a beat lost.
Steve grunted as Bucky’s metal fist met the vibranium shield with a deafening clang. Steve gritted his teeth and pushed back, managing to break Bucky’s attack and aim a kick for his stomach.
“Go! I got him!” Steve yelled to you through a gasp as Bucky countered with his own swipe at Steve’s middle. Your body stayed put, relishing in the ability to fucking breathe again, also painfully aware how screwed you’d be if you didn’t escape as you had the chance. You willed yourself to move, to run and to keep going, to no avail. As Steve landed a blow to Bucky, his eyes met yours once more. His baby blues, pained and tired, begged for you to listen to him for once in your life. 
“Now!”
The strain in Steve’s voice seemed to ignite a fire underneath you. Pushing yourself up, you willed your legs to carry you to the exit. Bloody shoe prints tracked your route as you slammed through the doorway. You cursed, knowing they’ll give away which way you’d go, knowing your life matters more than a twenty-dollar pair of sneakers. Kicking them off, throwing the pair down the exit, praying they made it far enough Bucky wouldn’t know any better. 
You threw yourself up the stars, tremors and pain afflicting every limb as the cold concrete seeped in through your socks in each step. The railing helped as you heaved yourself forward with help from the railing. Sweaty palms slipped on the bars, but your grip only grew tighter. 
You didn’t know how you, or your body, was able to do it, making it up seven more flights of stairs before your knees buckled on level 57. Heaving the door open and slamming it shut, you stumbled out into the new hallway. You hadn’t visited that level before. Something Steve and the others– especially Doctor Banner– said was “just a business floor.”
The sign on the wall directing to ‘SAFELAB’ said otherwise. Nothing in the Tower was “just business.” 
What you did know was that every SAFELAB on every floor was located in the same, far-east hallway. 
Wiping the sweat from your temple, you turned right, jogging down the darkened, emptied-out hallway. It felt like the apocalypse. No sign of anybody else. Doors left ajar, papers and bags and other employee memorabilia scattered throughout abandoned offices and cubicles. You hoped everyone was able to make it out, at least.
Part of you didn’t hope for much, though. 
The door to the lab came into view as you rounded the last corner. The door was still locked, the lab inside sterile and untouched. A sigh of relief escaped you. Holding your palm to the door’s scanner, it answered your prayers in a soft beep and whir, miraculously allowing you in. 
You maneuvered through the multiple security doors, four in total, crouching low once you managed to slip into the lab itself. The gigantic window at the front of the labspace spared no room for you to hide easily, but you had zero room to complain about it. It was your only option, after all.
Well, besides the roof. 
Crouched, you snuck your way around the counters and various equipment to one of the supply closets. The furthest corner from the entrance. You scoured through drawers and cupboards for some sort of weaponry; the most you could find was a new scalpel out of a box of extras. 
You closed in on the supply closet, reaching up and grasping the handle, turning it slowly to prevent any squeaks from the inner hinge. A tear glided down your cheek in relief. You hadn’t realized you started crying. Again. 
The door swung open. It greeted you mostly empty, deep enough for you to cram your body into. Crawling inside, bones and limbs contorted into the most comfortable position you could manage. You pinched the edges of the doors to close them as best as you can, accepting they, in fact, couldn’t close all the way from the inside. A curse under your breath, the sliver of dim light through the crack cast onto your face. Once settled, you crumpled your damp t-shirt up from the collar and shoved the fabric into your mouth. Teeth and tongue greeted sweaty cotton and hints of copper as you bit down on the collar, covering your mouth with a free hand. 
At last, after Gods knew how long it had been since you ceased moving, a silenced sob heaved out of your chest. Tremors only worsened as your nervous system rode out the fumes of its adrenaline high and flight mode instincts. Hot tears spilled down your cheeks, mixing with snot further down your face, slipping down to your neck and leaving behind streaked paths in the bloodied, hand-printed bruises adorned on your flesh. The pain from the near-strangulation you suffered broke through the shock and endorphins that were keeping you sane until then. You knew, though, you couldn’t break down. Not yet. Not until you saw Natasha or Steve or someone you trusted face-to-face. 
You started counting your breaths. Mind racing, thoughts traveling near sonic speeds through your mind carrying questions at how the hell it all happened.
You thought for sure S.H.I.E.L.D. was secure, especially after the ordeal with Bucky, Steve, and the whole ‘defeating HYDRA’ ordeal from a few years back. Hell, you thought it was safer than taking the FBI’s recon mission that was offered to you before being referred to Tony himself. Your mind raced, what-ifs and endless possibilities flashing across your eyes like a snuff film. You hoped Steve was okay. You hoped Natasha was on her way to your location any second. You hoped Sam was safe and made it out okay. You hoped Bucky –
Bucky. 
Christ, you hadn’t even stopped to think about how the hell everything happened to him. He’d been doing so well in his recovery program. Steve was even telling you about it that same morning, bragging about how well Bucky was doing, how much progress he was making, how soon they’d finally be able to move in together once Doctor Banner cleared him. Another sob overtook you. How you’d never seen him like that before, the feeling of his titanium arm slowly crushing your windpipe, the weight of his entire body crushing your internal organs as he’d held you down. The things he’d said. You tried to wrap your head around what he’d said, what he was going to do–
Crashing followed by shattering glass emitted a muffled yelp from you as your blood ran cold. Another wave of tears flooded out of your burning eyes, chest heaving unevenly. Your hand clamped even tighter over your mouth as teeth bit into the salty fabric of your shirt, drying up any more moisture your mouth was grateful to finally have.
BANG! Then another. Then more in rapid succession. Shattering, crashing, shattering, silence. The final blow to the security doors sounded from inside the lab itself. Your breath hitched and bile began bubbling in your stomach, reaching the back of your throat and across your tongue. You forced yourself to swallow the acid, listening intently to the crunch of sneakers on shattered glass.
He’d found you. 
“Lisitsaaa,” Bucky drawled, his voice dropped to a primally low octave. Lower than before. You almost couldn’t make out the words, a mixture of growled mumblings of English and Russian. Knees folded closer to your chest, you tightened your grip on the handle of the scalpel. Bucky’s footsteps were slow, methodical, predatorial. 
His heavy steps inched closer, each followed by a pause, then sudden crashing of lab equipment and smashing of drawers. More glass and metal slammed to the ground and walls after each pause. He sounded feet away. Then inches. 
Your breathing stopped as the sliver of light clouded over. The lump in your throat threatened more puke to rise as you dared to peer up through the crack, heart dropping like a dead weight to your stomach as your eyes fell on freshly bloodied sneakers. A stifled scream in your lungs choked you. You refused to think about whose blood that was.
Eyes darted back up. You could see Bucky’s blurred features clouded in shadows. The only light visible, then, was the glint from his wicked smile. Bloodied teeth shone as he licked his lips hungrily, a predator finally cornering its prey. 
Ever so slowly he crouched, shoving his face closer into the seam in the door. Tears and snot continued to stream down your face, your body hyperventilating as you forced yourself to look into his eyes. There was nothing else you could do. Nothing else to say, to cry about. There was nowhere left to run. He got you. 
“There you are, moy priz,” Bucky hissed before reaching through and throwing the doors open, heavy hands leaving imprints in the flimsy metal. Frozen, your fist was still closed around the scalpel, your muscles tensed as joints locked in place. His evil eyes scanned your body greedily, looking for which cut of meat to divulge in first. His gaze stopped at your fist and he chuckled, tisking in a disappointed tone. 
“Oh, glupaya pizda,” Bucky shook his head, amused at your meager choice of weaponry. Compared to him, you might as well have been waving a white flag. His smile only grew, tongue jutting out to lick his lips. Specks of blood coated the sides of his cheeks and edges of his mouth, smeared about from ear to ear with the back of his hand.
“Come with me and they might consider your life, lisitsa–”
You sprung into him, swinging your arm, landing the scalpel into the middle of his flesh hand, impaling straight through it. In an instant, blood spewed from the impact. Bucky screamed out in pain, a slew of mixed language curses reverberating in your skull. You scrambled out of your hiding place, bashing him with a balled fist to the face as you tumbled out and onto your feet, sprinting to the lab’s only exit. Freedom was only an arm’s length away when an overturned stool tripped you. The impact didn’t hurt near as much as the millions of shattered glass bits shredded cut into your skin, your hands and knees and arms and face littered as blood smeared under you and across the once-sterile white floors. You cried out, writhing around. Battered and bloodied, struggling to rise and run again despite the searing pain in your ankle.
Before you could form your next thought, a rough hand snatched your scalp and dragged you up by your hair. You uttered a panicked scream as Bucky hoisted you to eye level, snarling like a rabid dog as he shook you hard.
“I thought you were smarter than that, lisitsa,” he sneered, “but I was wrong.”
He hurled you back onto the floor, his bloodied, titanium fist still gripping your hair, dragging you over to one of the disheveled lab tables. More glass shredded your skin, blood and sweat and tears mixing and pouring over your face and hands and body. With ease and a free hand, he swiped the rest of the contents off another counter; beakers and burners crashed to the floor. His grip tightened as he threw you up onto the stainless steel counter, the dead weight of your body banging onto the table, landing you hard on your back. Eardrums rang into your skull and jaw, radiating down your spine and out your limbs. Your hands slip against the smooth metal from the blood, futile attempts to grab onto something, anything. You groaned and huffed excess sobs. The pain, unbearable; the fear, unimaginable. 
Bucky hoisted himself onto the table, landing on top of your broken body, his knee hitting your spine and knocking your last breath out of you. Straddling you, his thick thighs bulged through tattered sweatpants, squeezing into your rib cage. He looped another fist into your hair, raising your head and slamming it down. The side of your face smushed into the steel table, smearing around more blood as he did it again. And again. The cartilage in your nose cracked and throbbing pain radiated into your eyes, your skull. Warmth from the break and the blood poured over your face. The pain, dulling into numbness as you began to fade in and out of consciousness.
Your vision started to blur and blacken, stars and specks orbiting around Bucky like a halo of hallucination. Your body, finally surrendering to him. No fight left. Any strength you could have mustered, funneled into staying awake, proved useless. 
A new sound, then: ripping.
You didn’t have to look to witness Bucky unrelentingly tear your t-shirt away from your body, training his eyes on your open form. Bruised skin exposed to cool air, your chest still momentarily held together by your sports bra. He made quick work of it next, the nylon snapping off in one swipe, sending goosebumps racing down your spine. 
Ice-cold titanium fingers untangled from your matted hair and made their way from your nape, to the small of your back, to the waistband of your gym shorts. Muscles tensed as you felt each digit wrap almost leisurely onto the elastic. He tore them away swiftly, baring the rest of you and your skin to him. A growl, one of pleasure, vibrated into you from him, emitted he palmed the skin of your ass. His fingers journeyed languidly in a slow trail from your back to your core. You squirmed, wasting the last of your strength, a hopeless attempt to get away one last time. 
A crack came across your face. Flesh against flesh, he slapped you. A punishment. A command for obedience. Your body fell limp. Breathing raggedly and gagging on blood and spit, you shuddered as he took your wrists and tied them together with your t-shirt. 
Satisfied, his prey finally submitting, Bucky paused, panting as he leaned down to you. He wet his lips before speaking, gruff words slurred against your ringing eardrum. As he spoke, cold metal grazed your entrance, a threat of what was to come. 
“Now, I get to take what’s mine.”
Your screams echoed as the world fell dark.
516 notes · View notes
samodivaa · 5 months
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“Scraps and shreds of thoughts were simply swarming in his brain, but he could not catch at one, he could not rest on one, in spite of all his efforts…” ― Fyodor Dostoyevsky
smut - ⁂ ︳angst - ☢ ︳fluff - ☀
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dividers by - @saradika The fics that I read May-December.
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White Wolf by mrsbuckybarnes1917 | ⁂
Summary: You meet Bucky while you're in Wakanda and you just can't resist his wolfish charms!
Tied Up by duckybarnes1917 | ⁂
Summary: Bucky wants to be tied up, teased, and denied.
Stallion for the show by rookthorne | ⁂
Summary: It was your first classic car meet and you were excited for what lay ahead. Meeting others within the scene and maybe the possibility of making friends was your goal, but what awaited you was much, much more intense – for better, or for worse.
night visits by httpwintersoldier | ⁂
Summary: usually people find their own interests, but when you are "forcefully recruited" to work under HYDRA, your interest found you first.
for your own good by witchywithwhiskey | ⁂
Summary: bucky barnes is gifted a strange-looking plant but when you, his closest friend in avengers tower after steve rogers, touches the leaves, it lets out a strange cloud of pollen. both you and bucky soon feel the effects of the plant's pollen and, though bucky's worried about hurting you, you know he never would—and you need his help. desperately.
Dream Maker by thenhewaswrongaboutme | ⁂
Summary: Bucky comes home late one night after a mission. You're already asleep, but he can't wait any longer— he needs you now.
Haunted by targaryenvampireslayer | ⁂ , ☢
Summary: Bucky was taken from you by Hydra a year ago. You mourn him and miss him, until you start dreaming of him…until he starts coming back to you
Holding on by joey-marvel14 | ☢, ☀
Summary: you notice Bucky is been more quiet then usual. He’s not talking to anyone, not even you. Bucky becomes withdrawn, his eyes are more puffy and sleep deprived, you notice he’s not eating as much either.
My everything by mrsbarnesblog | ☢, ☀
Summary: The last thing that Bucky ever expected to see was the love of his life from the past trapped in one of the Hydra bunkers in the cryofreeze chamber. Yet here he was almost two days later, staring at your still unconscious body through the window at the medical wing, imagining the horror and disgust on your face when you found out that he was no longer the innocent and happy boy you knew before.
Praise Kink by bucknastysbabe | ⁂ , ☢
I want to know who I'm looking at by world-of-aus | ⁂ metal arm kink fr by buckyalpine | ⁂ This Can't Go On Forever by vonalyn | ☢
Bucky's sweet treats by nicoline1998enilocin | ☀
Summary: Bucky has always enjoyed your baked goods and other sweet treats, so when you start leaving them for him to find when he comes back from missions, he can't help but smile like an idiot every times he sees you, or one of your treats.
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Rebound by adrinktostopyourthirst | ☢, ⁂, ☀
Summary: You lose your last tether to the normal world and Bucky has to make a decision. You’re officially part of the Underground. Does he help you, or not?
in losing grip, on sinking ships by mellowsaturns | ☢
Summary: when the avengers pick up unusual activity, they realize that not all of hydra was destroyed. one unidentifiable face sends the team into a frenzy but bucky knows it. he could recognize those eyes anywhere.
Your Mission by mrsbuckybarnes1917 | ⁂
You're a HYDRA asset tasked with tracking down and recovering a lost soldier: Bucky Barnes. Story takes place between CA: WS and CA: CW.
Reset - Masterlist by lunarbuck | ☢, ⁂
Summary: The government has fallen, Hydra has taken over. You were an agent of SHIELD long before the reign of terror began, and became a member of the resistance when they needed you most. Everything changes when the Winter Soldier captures you from your safe house.
Slaughter - Masterlist by lunarbuck | ☢, ⁂
Summary: The Winter Soldier takes what he wants
The Bride of Soldat: Masterlist by vampy-doll | ☢, ⁂
Summary: In the summer of 1986, a young woman goes missing whenever HYDRA kidnaps her to be their next experiment for the reward of their Soldat. Now, post blip, Bucky starts to remember defining details of his love, his match made in hell, and is determined to find her. But after years of isolation and torture after his escape, she isn’t who he remembers. Now they’re trying to piece together who she was pre-HYDRA to teach her how to live, without his undying love and obsession of her getting in the way. But when one head is cut off, two more shall grow in its place, leaving them to discover those behind her abduction.
Soldiers by thefallennightmare | ☢, ☀, ⁂
Summary: Reader has spent the last seventy years in hell as a prisoner soldier; Hydra's greatest weapon. Well, second greatest weapon after The Winter Soldier. The only thing that got her through that hell was him, even if she was the one behind his biggest pain.
Please don’t take him (even though you can) by hansensgirl | ☢
Summary: She can have anyone she wants, but you can never love again. Not without him.
Miss Velvet Masterlist by missvelvetsstuff | ☢, ⁂, ☀
Summary: Y/N is a disabled equestrian and therapeutic riding instructor who helps Tony Stark with his PTSD after returning from Titan. When the Avengers bring everyone back he hires her to work with Avengers and SHIELD hires her as therapist and teaching basic riding skills because you never know when a horse will be the best mode of transportation.
Going Under by beefromanoff | ☢, ☀
Summary: As a wildly famous singer's safety is called into question, Bucky Barnes is assigned to act as her personal security. over the course of the tour, their relationship evolves from professional into something more. when disaster strikes, Bucky is the one waiting to avenge her.
Kiss Me If You Can by deliciousangelfestival
Summary: Bucky, a stern lieutenant, discovers that his first love has become a famous phantom thief, sparking a thrilling cat-and-mouse chase with a romantic twist as he can't bear to see her imprisoned but prefers to keep her close.
deadly nightshade masterlist by kinanabinks | ☢, ⁂
Summary: as an upcoming agent, it is your job to remain professional and appropriate with your colleagues, and especially your seniors. but there's something about bucky barnes you can't seem to shake - as long as his girlfriend doesn't find out, it'll be fine. right?
201 notes · View notes
buckets-and-trees · 8 months
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Peering In My Hollow Core
Fandom: MCU Title: Peering In My Hollow Core Characters/Pairings: Nomad!Steve x Morally Grey!Female Reader Word Count: 2.4k
Summary: Even the best laid plans can go up in flames. You're both wrong, and yet also more right for each other than you know.
Content Warnings: explicit smut, DUBIOUS CONSENT due to sex pollen, masturbation, rough fucking/vaginal sex, unprotected sex/ejaculation
Logistical Notes: I claimed prompt 13 for @lunarbuck's Star-Crossed Lovers Soulmate AU challenge and also knocking off I1 "masturbation" for @the-slumberparty's August/September Bingo challenge. And because you know I can't resist... it's also using one of the prompts (first bolded line) for @witchywithwhiskey's Horror Movie Hoe-a-thon! And it's answering an ask I got from one very mischievous @stargazingfangirl18 that's been on my mind for the last two weeks.
Additional Notes: @biteofcherry and @vonalyn let me suss out how this evolved, so thank you for enduring my brainstorming! Eva also gave a line of dialogue inspiration that I found too delicious not to snatch up, and so that's bolded for acknowledgement as well (near the end). Title from Scars by Basement Jaxx.
↠ Masterlist | Aspen's Ask Box | Field Guide to the Forest
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“What’s your grand plan here, Doc?” The golden-haired, bearded hulk of a man, America’s golden boy now a rogue in the shadows is pacing before you. “Are you even a doctor?”
His tone is biting, angry, and you don’t hold it against him.
He did fall right into your trap.
“You’re a smart boy, you can guess.”
“I want to hear you say it.”
“I think it will bruise your ego more if I spell it out for you.”
“You should have thought of my rage before you put yourself in this situation, Doc,” he all but growls, still prowling back and forth across the living room floor. “What’s your exit strategy here?”
“You’re getting more volatile and heated, that’s good. That’s what I need.”
“Do you think this is a fucking game? You’re on dangerous ground.”
Your lips curl up slightly, but you try not to smirk. “I dangled myself in front of you. Good Captain America couldn’t resist trying to liberate the poor scientist who got wrongfully entangled with the remnants of HYDRA. You never even stopped to consider that I was dangling myself out in the wind to get you here like this, and you’ve read enough about HYDRA, you know what I gave you.”
“But why?” he barks.
“No one can beat you for strength. You’re driven, resourceful, able to evade an attack. Your weakness is caring,” you pause because he stops his pacing, he looks ready to spring, but doesn’t yet. His eyes haven’t left you for even a moment since he realized it’s you he needed to worry about, not save. “I need your DNA, blood samples, bodily fluid, and I can’t trap you with anything, but I banked on the one physical vulnerability even a super soldier isn’t immune from: a compound they initially developed as something called a sex pollen. In fact, I think you know they tested it on a super soldier, don’t you?”
He slams his fist on the table between you two, and it splits from his actions.
You shouldn’t have provoked him with that. It wouldn’t yield the results you were trying to manipulate him into.
“Easy, Nomad,” you raise your hands cautiously to ease the tension just slightly. “That’s what they call you now – Nomad is the moniker now that you can’t be Captain America out there to the world anymore.” He flexes his fists, another angry reflex, but one you know speaks to a slight de-escalation, self-regulation. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said that. I don’t agree with everything HYDRA has done.”
He lets out a bitter laugh.
“I don’t,” you insist.
“If you’re not in with them, you’ve made a deal with a devil you’ve vastly underestimated.”
“They’re a means to an end.”
“How can you be so foolish to think that?”
“No one will fund my research at the rate and without regulatory oversight the way they do. They’re desperate to have more of you but under their thumb, especially since you’re at the root of them losing their prize assassin.”
“You’re not stupid, so why are you giving them what they want?”
You lift your chin defiantly.
Steve’s eyes narrow. “Oh god. You can’t tell me… Really? You think you’re gonna keep your research and development from them in the end?”
“Look at what I’ve done so far,” you gesture. “You’ve evaded every attempt they’ve made to get you, you’re evading all the countries who are supposed to enforce the accords and hand you over, and yet I have you trapped here.”
“Why do you care about a super soldier serum?” he asks.
You shrug. “I’m interested in a serum, but I don’t need super soldiers. The list of your medical ailments before you were injected, and then you’re instantly cured of everything? Do you know how many people need even a drop of what cured you?”
“And you think I’d be opposed to that?”
You scoffed, “Yeah, easily. Once the research exists, it will get applied for things it was never intended to be used for, up to and including developing super soldiers for HYDRA and people who pretend they’re better than HYDRA.”
“So, who has made you this desperate?”
“You don’t get to know that.”
He scoffs now. “You don’t get to set the terms here if you intend to get what you want.”
“Don’t I? You’re uncomfortable. You’ve been uncomfortable for a while. It’s going to get worse, but I adapted the formula for what I gave you in that drink of water. All you have to do is ejaculate, and the toxin will abate from your system.”
“How thoughtful of you,” he deadpans.
Then his demeanor changes. He sniffs, and his eyes finally stray from you.
“You said this house is reinforced in its lockdown to keep me in until you initiate and secure your extraction with the HYDRA team?”
“Yes,” you answer slowly, trying to follow his line of sight and decipher what he’s looking at.
“I think you’re going to need to adjust your plans and priorities and do it quickly.”
You open your mouth to ask why, but then your mind quickly makes the leap. “They modified my ventilation system.”
“HYDRA has refused to be eliminated for decades. They can wait for a purebred super soldier and think they can get one in your womb today.”
The heat of humiliation floods your body. How could you have been so foolish not to account for a maneuver like this. They had clearly approved of your strategy too easily.
“Soon you won’t be able to think about anything more than my cock in your cunt, so you better start thinking of how you’re going to get yourself out of this, Doc, because Nomad is not who everyone knew Captain America to be, and I’m certainly not inclined to assist you in any way now. Been doing fine evading capture as you yourself asserted, I can probably figure out my own exit strategy here and fight off the sex pollen until I make it out. But for someone without any biological enhancements… I’m not optimistic over your odds. I read everything on HYDRA. This stuff was nasty when they first developed it, but you can bet they will have reverse engineered whatever you did to the formula to make it even worse.”
As if on cue, you start to feel the physical effects of whatever nearly imperceptible airborne toxin – imperceptible to you, but apparently not to enhanced individuals. Heat flares again in your body, but this time it is a pulsating sexual need.
You close your eyes to try and keep your breath steady and even, but after another moment, you whimper and draw your hands to your stomach as the poisonous desire pulses more strongly, the tremor of need undeniable.
Your eyes burst open again, seeking out the male across the room from you.
He chuckles darkly. “Oh, no. I’m not giving you anything you want. If you’re as brilliant as you think you are, you don’t need me to get out of your unfortunate predicament.”
Your body is yearning for him, but you know he’s serious.
You also know he’s right; you need to think fast.
You’re coherent enough to get both of you out of the lockdown state of the house now – because HYDRA was clearly going to come for both of your – you had a failsafe to get out in case there was some loss of electrical power. But could you get away in this state?
And you know if you get out, you’ll never get the DNA you need from Steve Rogers – you’ll never be close enough to or even see him again. You know that in your bones.
Over the next hour, at different points during the feverish state that overtakes you, you can sometimes hear the super soldier nearby, doing things around your home, undoubtedly trying to apply his own ingenuity.
He might be successful.
It hardly matters.
Now you’re in the shower, under a stream of cold water, trying both to alleviate the unbearable heat your body has peaked to and to hide the sound of your sobs as best you can. You’ve stripped down to a nearly naked state. You ripped off your shirt and pants in your room, left them on the floor, your panties are on the tiled floor outside the shower, but you couldn’t spare your hands to remove your bra. At first you were almost experiencing a sliver of relief with one hand between your legs, paying every attention to your excessively slick folds and throbbing clit, thrusting your fingers in and out of your cunt as well, but it was a false grasp at hope.
You don’t know when you slid down the tiled wall of the wet glass tomb where you think you may die, curled in on yourself, one hand still trying pointlessly to trigger the orgasm that will flush the desperate physical pain from your body, surely it must come.
You don’t know how long he’s been standing in the doorway of the bathroom before you try to shift pathetically, your eyes open, and you see him slowly stroking his hard cock, watching you. You shut your eyes again, in agony wondering how he can possibly seem so collected. Why isn’t he pumping his fist in a frenzy? You couldn’t stroke your clit fast enough, and now you can’t bear to touch it, but the heel of your hand can’t help bumping it as you try to fuck yourself on your fingers.
Then a rush of air blasts over your body.
You open your eyes weakly to see Steve reach to shut off the water, before he bends down and without a word grabs your limp body from the floor, drapes you over his arm, where you hand limply, bent in half, and he hauls you back to your room, and throws you on the bed.
You continue to cry and stroke yourself while you hear him unzip and unfasten, your body a trembling heap, facing away from him as he’s undressing.
“I’m going to fuck you, and then you’re going to let me out before HYDRA comes for both of us. You’re fucking clever and I can’t get out of here without you.”
You whimper when you feel his weight on the bed behind you.
He forces you into a kneeling position, but he doesn’t care that you can’t even prop yourself up, head and shoulders slumped down on the mattress, ass in the air. His left hand grips your hip, and he groans as he guides the head of his cock up and down the slit of your dripping cunt before he finally slides in. It’s deliberate, sliding down to the base, his hips pushing into yours. The way he invades and stretches you is painful, and yet you need it, keening at the fullness.
You do catch that his breathing hitches.
He needs this, too.
You’ll give it to him if he’ll just put your body out of its misery.
After a moment of slowly rutting against you, only shifting his girth inside of you a bit, teasing, perhaps warning, you whine, “move, please, more.”
“More than you bargained for,” he growls, then pulls back, and then thrusts back into you, adopting a brutal pace, both hands anchored at your hips now, slamming you back and forth roughly.
He pulls a first orgasm from your body quickly, but the second comes not long after when he reaches around to pinch and roll your clit between his fingers, still using your pussy for chasing his pleasure.
A third, and you’ve gone from whimpers and keens to crying out and a fresh wave of tears. This is rough and you’re over stimulated, and he knows. He leans over your back to smirk against your neck.
“Please,” you cry. You don’t know if you’re begging for more or for less because your body is screaming in exhaustion, but the fire is still tormenting your veins.
Because you haven’t been filled.
The smirk turns to a sneer against your neck, and Steve snarls, "You wanted it. You staged it. So, you're going to take it and keep fucking taking it until I'm done with your pathetic fragile body."
He’s pressing into places you’ve never felt before, and you cry out more, face pressed into the sheets. He pushes back up and pulls his cock out of you. His fingers work the clasp of your bra, and he pulls it off while he flips you over so you’re on your back. You can’t even open your eyes, but you feel him looming above you, kneeling between your splayed out thighs.
But then you feel something shift. He mutters a curse and is suddenly still.
You open your eyes and look up at him, but he’s looking at your chest. His hand moves up to trace his fingers over a scar near your collarbone. You look and see the same scar evident on his chest.
You reach up and your fingers quest along his bicep, and they do find a scar there, very faint but long, matching one you’ve had nearly your entire life.
Your eyes lock on each other now, and the acknowledgement there between you is terrifying.
There are more scars, but you don’t need to continue to confirm what you know.
You’re soulmates.
You’ve betrayed him before you even knew.
You’re still beholden to the drive of the sex pollen, boneless and exhausted, but this revelation drives with adrenaline through the haze, too hard to deny. It gives you enough to say, “We can’t deal with this now if we want to get out of here with a chance to escape HYDRA, fuck me and end this.”
He does, but he can’t look at you. He buries his head in the crook of your neck, and spears you with his cock. The fucking is rough, and you take it. It’s punishing penance and painful pleasure. You cling to him as he thrusts you over the cliff of ecstasy again, coming with you finally, and his spend pumps hotly into you. The physical relief from the torture is blessedly immediate. His hand ghosts over your lower abdomen where he’s just planted his seed. With his eyes closed, he touches his forehead to yours, then pushes roughly away and rolls off of you.
“Get up, get dressed, pack light,” he says, stone cold. “Between us we might get out of this dangerous trap. That’s all we need for now.”
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↠ Masterlist | Aspen's Ask Box | Field Guide to the Forest
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see-the-divine · 7 months
Text
Kinktober Recs 2023
All Fic Recs
Note: Check the rules of each blog before reading please!! Enjoy 💗
masterlist by @holylulusworld
masterlist by @thyme-in-a-bubble
masterlist by @captainamericasmotercycle
masterlist by @gogogodzilla
masterlist by @lunarbuck
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saiyanprincessswanie · 7 months
Text
SaiyanPrincessSwanie Reading List Weeks 167 & 168
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Welcome to Weeks 167 & 168
A/N: Thank you again to those who gave me recommendations for fanfics. Especially all the Kinktober goodies. 💜 This week had me reading 60 fics. Absolutely amazing stuff here.
As always these will be listed in no particular order. None of these stories are mine. I’m just signal-boosting them. The author is listed next to the title. My goal is to signal boost writers and spread positivity in the community.  💜💜
Click HERE to see what I will or won’t read. This is very important.
Click HERE for past reading lists.
For my Masterlist click HERE
Please make sure you’re reading the warnings on every story. They range from dark to fluff. Do Not Read if you are under 18 years old. These stories are meant for adults only. You’re responsible for your own media consumption.
Page-break by @whimsicalrogers​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​
Header by @fictional-affairs
If you can, please reblog these lists so they can reach more people on Tumblr.
I love you 3000 💜 Missy
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Fallen Angel - (Brock x OFC, Bucky) - @saiyanprincessswanie
Heaven or Hell? - (Lloyd x Reader) - @shadeysprings
Plum Flavored Chapstick - (Bucky x Reader) - @sergeantbarnessdoll
Winner Winner - (Andy x Reader) - @labella420
Bewitched crossroads - @nekoannie-chan
Here Comes Goodbye - (Jimmy Dobyne x Reader) - @spectre-posts @wiypt-writes
Protector - (Winter Soldier x Reader) - @rookthorne
When You Move, I Move - (Bucky x Reader) - @navybrat817
Kinktober Week 1: Love Bites - (Steve x Reader) - @lunarbuck
Surrender - @mrsmischief209
Stargazing love - @/nekoannie-chan
Armchair - @/nekoannie-chan
Bittersweet - (Bucky x Reader) - @thecornerlot
Might Even Be - (Bucky x Reader) - @slyyywriting
Spy vs. Spy - (Lloyd x Reader) - @andydrysdalerogers
Never Tear Us Apart - (Andy x Reader) - @syntheticavenger
Dark Thor Oneshot- @/syntheticavenger
dangerous - (Bucky x Reader) - @onceuponastory
Ours - (Bucky x Reader, Steve x Reader) - @/holylulusworld
Yours & Mine - (Bucky x Reader, Steve x Reader) - @holylulusworld
MINE - (Steve x Reader) - @labella420
As He Sees Fit - (Bucky x Reader) - @navybrat817
Sacrifice Yourself and Let Me Have What's Left - @/mrsmischief209
Kinktober 2023, Day 2 - (Steve x Reader) - @georgiapeach30513
Feelin' Gourd - (Bucky x Reader) - @jobean12-blog
Congratulations! You Just Won The Shock of Your Life At 2 AM! - (Clint x Reader) - @ghostofskywalker
Kinktober Week 1: Thigh Riding - (Lee x Reader) - @lunarbuck
Kinktober, Day 3 - (Paul D x Reader) - @/georgiapeach30513
Day 1: Mile High Club - (Bucky x Reader) - @writing-for-marvel
Slow Hand - (Billy R x Reader) - @/mrsmischief209
Against the ghost - @/nekoannie-chan
Daddy Dearest - (Steve x Reader) - @cherienymphe
Daddy - (Steve x Reader) - @donutloverxo
ever since - (Bucky x Deaf!Reader) - @/syntheticavenger
Hypothetically speaking - (Bucky x Reader) - @littleseasiren
Rooted in Love - (Bucky x Reader) - @/jobean12-blog
Branded - (Curtis x Reader) - @stargazingfangirl18
Kinktober Week 1: Table/ Threesome/Sensory Dep - (Stucky x Reader) - @/lunarbuck
Kinktober 2023, Day 4 - (Cole T x Reader) - @/georgiapeach30513
Kinktober Day 4: Overstimulation - (Bucky x Reader) - @/writing-for-marvel
Tuesday Thots - Sunbeam - (Bucky x Reader) - @/navybrat817
Day 7: Striptease - (Bucky x Reader) - @/writing-for-marvel
Curtis and Honey - Autumn This On That - @sweater-daddiesdumbdork
Six Steamy Sentence Challenge - @sagechanoafterdark
Under the Hood - (Steve x Reader) - @/andydrysdalerogers
Don't Make It Harder - (Andy x Reader) - @/slyyywriting
Brock x Reader x Billy Oneshot - @/fluffyprettykitty
Kinktober Week 1: Phone Sex - (Sam x Reader) - @/lunarbuck
Staff unveiled - @/nekoannie-chan
day 3 - choking & spitting - (Lloyd x Reader) - @vellicore
Miss Your Kiss - (Thor x Reader) - @targaryenvampireslayer
THE DEVIL - (Andy x Reader) - @flordeamatista
What is this? - (Brock x Reader) - @/nekoannie-chan
babydoll - (Lee x Reader) - @nickfowlerrr
Everything I want… - (Bucky x Reader) - @thornsnvultures
One Night With You ~ Pt 1 - (Bucky x Reader) - @jtargaryen18
day 1 - cockwarming - (Bucky x Reader) - @/vellicore
Needy - (Bucky x Reader) - @targaryenvampireslayer
Day 10: Exhibitionism - (Bucky x Reader) - @/writing-for-marvel
Only You - (Steve x Reader) -@/flordeamatista
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Suddenly I see
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AN: Thank you nonnie for this request - I hope you enjoy this. I can’t seem to write anything short at the moment!
heyyy, this is my first request, i love your work!! i was wondering if you could do a blind reader or blind OC and bucky barnes. Bucky has been attempting to help her around even if she doesn’t always need it. he keeps trying and it’s dosent really go his way and he keeps just doing the wrong things but they get there and eventually they fall for each other and it ends with them trying to navigate the only thing they haven’t yet, a sex scene. sooo angsty fluff with a smut ending. thanks you much love 💕
This also fills square K2 on my BBB card - Flowers - @buckybarnesbingo
Beta’d by @lunarbuck
Dividers by @firefly-graphics and mood board and banner by me,
Masterlist | BBB Masterlist
Summary: Bucky just wants to help you, but it would be better if he asked you first.
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Relationship: Bucky Barnes x Blind SHIELD analyst Reader
Word count: 5.1k
CW: Human disaster Bucky, mild angst, fluff, Nat being Nat, miscommunication, pining, disabled Bucky Barnes, sex with banter (oral - m receiving, unprotected PinV sex)
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The first time you met him, you did have to forgive him. 
Most people didn’t know how to react when they met you, not expecting someone in your…position, to be doing the job that you were. For the most part you’d given up being mad about it - people either realised very quickly that your disability didn’t affect your job at all, or they felt the sharp end of your tongue and scuttled off with their tail between their legs, so to speak.
You were busy concentrating when Nat brought him into the room where you were working, but not so engrossed in your work that you didn’t register the arrival of new people. Your fingers were flying over the keyboard, typing out your code, and you knew that Nat would wait for you to finish before introducing you to whoever she’d brought into your sanctum. You pressed ‘enter’ and turned your chair towards her and your new guest, lifting your chin and tilting your head to the side as if regarding them - an action left over from when it made a difference.
“Hey, Nat! Good to see you. What brings you to my neck of the basement? And who’s the fresh meat?”
You grinned at the same time that she chuckled. 
“Do I need an excuse to come and spend time with my favourite Oracle?”
You rolled your eyes at the nickname.
“I’ve told you before - I don’t know the future. I’m an ordinary human, just like you.”
She snorted at that, and you heard her pull over one of the other chairs before she dropped down into it, settling behind your right shoulder as you resumed typing.
“Nothing ordinary about you. And speaking of which, I’d like to introduce you to Bucky.”
Oh! That’s who it was.You’d heard of Bucky, Captain Rogers best friend, released from decades of Hydra brain-washing, but this was the first time you’d been introduced. You spun your chair back towards where he’d been standing when he entered and held out your hand.
“Nice to meet you, Bucky.”
There was a heartbeat of silence, and you heard the tiniest exhale off to your left.
Shit!
“I’m over here, doll.”
You turned your chair more, grateful when Nat moved out of your way, and stood up, taking a step closer to where Bucky had spoken from.
“Well, you move as quietly as they say. Normally it’s only Nat who gets the drop on me. If you hadn’t guessed by now, I’m blind. And don’t you dare say you’re sorry.” You heard Nat’s muffled giggle, confirming your suspicion that Bucky’s mouth was flapping up and down with the apology he was about to make lodged in his throat.
You held out your hand again and gave him your name. “But Nat, here, calls me Oracle, because of my knack of interpreting intel and predicting likely scenarios.” His hand, warm but calloused, took hold of yours and gave it a gentle shake.
“Ummm, nice to meet you, Oracle.” 
You could feel the awkward tension in the air, and you couldn’t help but let out a sigh.
“Let me get this out of the way, and then we can move on, okay? I was born sighted, but was diagnosed with a condition called Retinitis Pigmentosa as a child, which meant that I slowly lost my vision over time. I became completely blind about 18 months back, but I remember seeing. I know what colours look like, animals, etc. I learnt to touch type as a teen, and although my keyboard does have Braille on the keys I don’t really use them. I manage just fine. FRIDAY reads back my code to me, so I can spot errors, I have my cane and I have Jimbo.”
“Jimbo?”
Aha! So the famed former assassin hadn’t noticed everything.
You gave a quick whistle and felt Bucky start as your faithful companion uncurled himself from under your desk where he’d been sleeping and came to stand at parade rest by your right leg.
You crouched down and gave him a pet, and in return he booped his nose against yours.
“This is Jimbo. The best seeing-eye dog ever. Aren’t you, boy? Yes you are!”
You stood back up and made your way back to your chair, Jimbo returning to his sleeping spot now that he realised his services weren’t currently required.
“So that’s me. I’m damn good at my job, and I promise that you’ll never have to worry about any mission information that you get from me. And if you can’t trust me, trust Nat. I’ve never steered her wrong.”
“Ummm. Good to know. I… ummm… if Nat trusts you, then I do too. And it was good to meet you… and Jimbo… but I… uh… gotta go. So… see you later, Nat? And again, nice to meet you, Oracle.” 
His footsteps retreated from in front of you and you heard the sound of the door opening and closing before Nat burst into a fit of giggles. You turned your chair towards her, crossed your arms over your chest and raised an eyebrow at her.
“Really Nat? You didn’t let him know in advance?”
“Hey, it’s not my story to tell, it’s yours. And besides, I wanted to see what you made of each other. Suffice to say, I wasn’t disappointed.”
“It’s a good thing I love you, Nat, otherwise I’d have to sic Jimbo on you.”
Nat moved towards you, and must have crouched down from the way her hand brushed your knee. You knew what she wanted. You scootched your chair back to allow her to reach under your desk. A satisfied huff from Jimbo let you know that Nat had found the sweet spot behind his right ear.
“This sweetheart? I’m more scared of you than I am of him.”
“Damn straight!”
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After your less than stellar introduction to Bucky, it seemed that from then on you kept bumping into him. Or rather he kept bumping into you. Literally.
You were making your way back to your office from the bathroom, cane in hand, although you knew the route like the back of your hand, when something caught on the end of it, sending it flying out of your hand. A heavy body then crashed into you, pinning you against the wall.
“Shit! What the fu… Oh. it’s you! Sorry. Sorry.”
Oh, god!
“Bucky… could you get off me please?”
“What? Oh! Yes, yes. Of course… umm.” 
He pushed away from the wall, and you sucked in a deep breath. Boy, was the guy heavy. Part of your brain decided to tell you it was the right kind of heavy. You told it to shut up. 
Bending down you reached out your hand to find your cane, only to find Bucky’s hand - he was obviously trying to help. His fingers closed over yours, and you turned your head upwards in reflex.
“Bucky, you are not my cane. Do you have it there?”
“Yes… umm.. Yes, of course. Let me, just…”
Without any warning you found yourself jerked back to your feet. The sudden movement unbalanced you and your free arm flailed, searching for purchase. Which it found by curling into the fabric of Bucky’s top, bringing you flush up against his chest, pressed to him for the second time in that many minutes. That part of your brain started clamouring for attention again. It was telling you that this was actually quite nice, and that Bucky smelled wonderful. Then, to add insult to injury the rest of your body started to join in, a gentle throbbing starting from between your legs.
Jesus, you needed to get laid, or at least find time to schedule some ‘self-care’, if you were reacting like this to a frankly frustrating man you’d only ever met twice.
You pulled your captive hand free and let go of his shirt, smoothing down your own top to cover your discombobulated state.
“Well, thank you, but I was capable of standing back up myself. I just need you to pass me my cane.”
“Oh, right. Hang on.” You felt the movement of air on your face as he quickly ducked away, and then he was back by your side, pressing your cane into your hand.
“Can I… umm… walk you back to where you were going?”
“Well, I do know where I’m going - I’ve worked here longer than you but, sure, you can tag along. Just going back to my office.”
“Sounds good!”
You couldn’t help but giggle. He sounded like an eager puppy. Maybe he wasn’t so bad… no scratch that…
You were just about to set off walking again, when Bucky threaded your left arm through the crook of his right. You couldn’t help it, you rolled your eyes. It was obvious he meant well, but by the same token, wasn’t used to being around someone with a disability like yours. You lurched forwards as he set off walking, effectively dragging you along with him.
“Bucky! Stop! Wait!” He came to a halt and you bounced off his, very muscular, arm.
“What? Are you okay? Did I hurt you when I bumped into you?”
“No, it’s not that, it’s just that it’s actually harder for me to walk with you pulling me along like this. I need to walk at my speed, and use my senses. I’m a grown woman and perfectly capable of navigating the couple of hundred yards between the bathroom and my office. I do it every day.”
“‘M sorry. I just…” You held up your hand.
“... wanted to help? I get that, I do. But if I need help I will ask for it. Assuming I need help is ableism, pure and simple. I may be blind, but I’m not helpless. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have work to do. I’m already behind schedule.”
As you strode off down the hall, your cane moving from side to side in front of you, you did feel a bit bad for chewing him out. He did mean well, after all, but you’d had your fill of ‘helpful’ people - people who saw a problem that they had to solve for you, instead of trusting you to sort it yourself.
Lost in your thoughts you didn’t hear the dejected sigh from behind you.
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It would have been alright if that had been the end of it, but it wasn’t. Bucky seemed intent on helping you every chance he could. Unfortunately it just kept going wrong.
Like at a mission briefing when you were making your way to the table. You pulled out your chair and went to sit down, but suddenly it wasn’t there and you were landing on the floor with a shout.
What the fuck?
“Shit, I’m sorry, doll. I just pulled your chair out a bit further to make it easier and…”
You gritted your teeth, trying to ignore the smell of his cologne and what it did to your equilibrium as he helped you back up.
“It’s fine, Bucky. But I was okay.
Like the time he accompanied Nat to see you in your office. He’d said hi, but nothing else, leaving Nat to check some mission intel over with you. But then you heard the tell-tale sound of hands patting thighs, and Jimbo brushed past your legs, followed by the sounds of canine mastication.
“Umm, Bucky… Are you feeding my dog?”
All was silent apart from the sounds of Jimbo snacking.
“Errr…”
You pinched the brow of your nose and tried to ignore the tremors of suppressed amusement from Nat next to you. You strode forward and somehow managed to swipe the offending bag out of Bucky’s hand.
“I thought he might like a little treat for being so good…”
“And that’s very sweet, but he’s not allowed treats when he’s working. And even if he was it’s good manners to ask. He could be on a specialised diet or something. If he gets an upset stomach, not only do I have to deal with being without him while he recovers, I somehow have to clean up doggy diarrhoea, which I can tell you isn’t fun when sighted, let alone blind.”
“Doll, I’m…”
“Yes, Bucky. I know. You’re sorry… You always are.”
You turned your back on him and went back to your chair, tucking the doggy treats into your desk draw and going back to your conversation with Nat. You tried to pretend you didn’t notice when Bucky slunk out. Nat, sensibly, didn’t say anything.
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One thing about working for SHIELD was that for those that wanted, you could have accommodation to live in on site. You’d jumped at the chance - anything to do away with an annoying commute. You just had to walk from the main building to the apartment block.
Jimbo sat down at your side as you let go of the handle of his harness, and pulled your key from your purse. You opened the door and signalled for Jimbo to go in, then closed it behind you and hung up your purse, keys, cane and coat, before removing your faithful companions' reflective harness.
“Good boy. You did so well today.”
You walked down your hall and into your open plan living room and then halted as an unexpected smell assaulted your nose.
Flowers?
How and why were there flowers in your apartment?
“FRIDAY!” You called out the AI, a little louder than necessary.
“Yes, Oracle?” 
Damn Nat. And damn Tony.
You let out another sigh. You seemed to be doing a lot of that lately.
“Are their flowers in my apartment?”
“Yes, miss. Roses and carnations. A large bouquet on the dining table. The roses are blush pink and the carnations are red.”
Oh, for fuck’s sake.
“And did Sergeant Barnes put them in here?”
“He did, miss.”
You stalked back towards the door, grabbing your cane, coat and keys.
“And does Sergeant Barnes live in this complex?”
“He does. Would you like to know his address?”
You thrust your arms into your coat and pocketed your keys.
“If it’s not too much trouble, FRIDAY. I need to give him a piece of my mind.” 
“Sergeant Barnes’ apartment is 2C.”
Okay, so one floor up and third apartment along. Not quite overhead of you.
As you opened the door you felt a nudge to your leg. Jimbo.
“Good boy, but stay. I’m sure I can make my way upstairs.”
You gave him a pat and then walked out of your door.
You hadn’t been on the other floors of the apartment block more than a handful of times. Nat always came to you if you organised to hang out, and you worked mostly on your own, not having really made friends with many of your co-workers. However, you found your way to the elevator and rode it up to the next floor.
You knew that apartment C should be the second on the left hand side of the corridor, so you walked along that side, and used your cane to identify the first, and then the second door frame. Squaring your shoulder and mentally preparing yourself, because you didn’t really like confrontation, you raised your hand to knock and brought it down… on nothing.
No. Not nothing. A person. Bucky. You were confused.
“Why is your door open, and why are you standing in it?”
“Heard you coming, doll.”
“Oh…”
You could swear you almost heard the smile in his voice. Shit! Your hand was still on his very warm, very broad chest.
“You wanna come in?”
“What? Oh, yes. Thanks.”
You snatched your hand back to yourself as he stepped back and you walked through the door, using your cane to work out where he was.
“Can I take your coat, and cane? This apartment is set out the same as yours, more or less, and I can help you to the couch?”
“Umm, sure.” 
God! He was being so nice and considerate, which was going to make this more difficult. You could feel your frustrations evaporating by the second, and damn it, you wanted to stay mad.
You passed him your cane and shrugged out of your coat, then waited patiently for him to escort you. He moved to your left side, and this time he waited for you to start walking, gently steering you around his furniture until your hand made contact with the back of his couch, allowing you to find your own way onto it. As you settled onto it, feeling the soft leather under your fingers, you felt the other side dip. Bucky was sitting next to you, on your right, but not too close.
“So, what can I help you with, doll. Can’t say I expected you to turn up at my door.”
“Bucky, you broke into my apartment and left flowers in it.”
“Well, I realised I’ve been a bit of an ass, and wanted to apologise. And you never let me actually say the words.”
You sank back into the couch and mulled on what to say.
“You gotta realise that since I got this diagnosis when I was five, before I even understood what it meant, I’ve had people saying sorry to me all the time, and then trying to help me. Over and over and over. Running roughshod over my autonomy because I happen to have a disability. My brain works fine. I manage just fine. It’s just so frustrating and it’s hard for those without disabilities to understand.”
The silence between you stretched for a few moments, before Bucky started to speak.
“I…” You cut him off.
“Don’t you dare say it!”
Then you heard something you hadn’t before. A chuckle. Bucky’s chuckle. 
Deep. Velvety. Downright sinful.
“Wasn’t gonna, doll. But I did want to show you something, so to speak.” He took hold of your right hand with his own. “Can I?”
You nodded, wondering what he meant, but it all became clear as he raised your hand and placed it on his left shoulder. You could feel the soft cotton of his t-shirt, but where it should have been stretched over his upper arm and bicep it in fact hung loose.
There was no arm there.
Your mouth dropped open and you whipped your head up towards him.
“How did I not know?”
Your words were a strangled whisper, and full of shame.
“Dunno, doll. It’s in my file. Although I do have a prosthetic. A very fancy one at that. It gives me more than normal abilities, but I will admit, like any other amputee, when I get home, I like to take it off.”
“Nat never mentioned it.”
“Like she never mentioned you being blind to me?”
“Oh…”
You didn’t know what to say. You knew what it was like to be bombarded with questions about something so personal.
“Well, if you ever wanna talk about it, you know where I am.”
“I do, doll. One floor down and to the left.”
Your hand was still on his shoulder, and you felt a little awkward.
“I… well… I was wondering, could I feel what you look like? I mean, if you don’t mind?”
He picked your left hand up from your lap and lifted it up towards his face.
“I was waiting for you to ask. Go ahead.”
You placed both your hands on top of his head, feeling his hair. It felt long; tied back.
“What colour is your hair?”
“I’d say brown, but Nat says it’s chestnut.”
You hummed as you trailed your fingers down, finding his brow and sweeping your fingers over his eyebrows and round his eye sockets and cheekbones.
“And your eyes? What colour are they?”
“Sorta blue-ish grey, I suppose.”
There was hair on his cheeks and jaw, long enough to feel soft  against your sensitive finger tips.
You realised you were finding it hard to breathe. There was a tension in the air between you, a tension that you knew had been there from almost the beginning, but that you’d tried so hard to ignore.
Your fingers moved towards, and then traced across his lips. They felt plump, albeit slightly chapped and you found yourself wondering how they’d feel against your own. With your left hand still on his mouth, your right trailed over his chin, feeling a small divot. You smiled as you imagined using it in order to grip him, hold his face still.
You were just about to pull your hands away, when Bucky reached up again, and held your left against his lips, so he could press small kisses to your fingertips. Your breath caught in your throat.
“I’m gonna say it, doll. I’m sorry. I’m sorry I was such an ass, and that I didn’t listen to you. I was stupid because I was trying to impress you. I wanted to show you how good I’d be for you, because almost from the first moment we met I was totally enamoured. You’re so smart, and confident, and I just felt useless. And then every time I tried to help I made it worse. Nat had to give me a talking to because I was just making a fool of myself.”
You could feel the heat rising in your cheeks at his words.
“Bucky, I…” but it was his turn to cut you off.
“So, I’m saying sorry, and I hope you can give this one-armed super-soldier a chance to show he isn’t an ableist ass, because I’d really like to get to know you better.”
Your heart was beating so hard you thought it was going to burst out of your chest, and you could no longer resist what your body and mind was telling you to do. You took hold of his chin, just the way you’d imagined a few moments ago, grabbing his attention.
“You’ve frustrated me from nearly the moment we met - I hope you realise that. Gotten under my skin in a way I couldn’t describe. I didn’t know why. Well at least, not at first. Every time I wanted to chew you out, I also wanted to kiss you. For trying so hard and so earnestly, but still getting it so very, very wrong.”
“You could kiss me now?”
Your lips twitched. “Smooth, Barnes. Smooth.”
“I like to think so…”
“Shut up.” You broke out into a full smile as you pulled him towards you by his cute chin until your lips met his.  
It was everything you’d imagined in your private moments. The warmth, the restrained passion. Everything.
Your fingers tangled in his hair, strands coming loose from his ponytail. His arm was wrapped around your waist… and when and how had you ended up on his lap? You didn’t care, you just wanted him to keep kissing you. When he finally pulled his lips from yours you ducked your head down to his neck, wanting to keep any kind of connection. It was like a dam had burst and you had no way of stopping the flood.
“Doll, you gotta stop. Please. ‘Cause I’m dying here.” He was panting. You could taste the sweat on his throat, feel his pounding in his chest, feel the firmness at his groin.
“You really want me to, Bucky? Or do you want me to help you dig your grave?”
“Oh, fuck, doll!”
In one swift movement his arm shifted to cradle your ass and he stood up. Your legs clenched around his waist and your arms went around his neck.
“I got you. I got you, doll. Just moving somewhere more comfortable, if that’s alright with you?”
“Sure is. I need space so I can ‘take a look’ at the rest of you.”
It was only a short walk to the bedroom, and he placed you, oh so reverently, on the bed. You pulled your top over your head and shimmied out of your work pants.
“I have no idea if this underwear matches - I was in a rush this morning.”
There was a rusting sound and the mattress dipped. Bucky took hold of one of your left hand and pulled it down so you could touch his, now bare, chest.
“You look like a million bucks, doll. Now, I gotta warn you. I got some pretty ugly scarring going on here.”
You brought your right hand up, and lightly stroked over the left side of his chest. You felt the edge of the scarring that started just above the nipple, raised and hard, which led up to cool metal which covered all over the shoulder area.
“Is this what your prosthetic attaches to?”
“Yeah. Unfortunately, when it was first done, the people doing it weren’t concerned with the aesthetic of it.”
“Good thing I’m blind then. I don’t care.”
Bucky let out a bark of laughter.
“You’re incredible, doll.”
“And so are you. Now lie still, so I can take a good look.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
Your hands roved over the rest of his body, feeling where his chest hair grew in patches around the scarring. When your palms brushed over his nipples he gasped and you felt him shift beside you. Impishly, you did it again, grinning when he let out a warning growl.
You took the hint, however, and continued your explorations, discovering the solid plains of his abdomen and feeling the strength within his core. No wonder he’d been able to lift you so easily, even with the help of his super-soldier serum.
When you finally ‘saw’ his cock, your hands gently learning the size and shape of it, every vein, every sensitive part, you heard his laboured breathing as he tried to control himself under the sweet torture of your touch.
“You’re so pretty, Bucky. I wonder how you taste?”
You bent over, and licked a stripe up the length of him, revelling in the sound of his indrawn breath. It had been a while since you’d been with anyone, but muscle memory was your friend. You traced the contours of his cock with the tip of your tongue, tasting the sweat, the musk, the essence of him, before taking him into your mouth.
“Oh, God! Doll! I wasn’t lying. You’re killing me!”
You pulled off him with a pop.
“Don’t resist it, Bucky. Give yourself over to ‘le petit mort’.”
You returned to ministering to his cock, sucking strongly on the tip of it, while stroking the shaft with your hand. You teased his slit with the tip of your tongue, then swirled around the head. His whole body was trembling with tension and you could feel how wet you were, how aroused you were by the power you held over him.
“Doll, I’m gonna cum! Fuck!”
You wished you could see Bucky’s face as he came, but instead settled for reaching up to twine your fingers with his. When his hips twitched under you, you hollowed your cheeks, and took him as deep as possible, moaning low in your throat as he spilt down it. 
You continued to suck and stroke him through his orgasm, until he shifted under you, sitting up and dragging you up his body. You straddled his lap again, pleasantly surprised to realise he was still hard, pressing up against your heated core. He kissed you, licking into your mouth, either not caring about or enjoying the taste of himself on you. His hand pulled at the fastener of your bra, but this was obviously something he couldn’t do one handed, so you reached behind you, quickly releasing the offending garment and discarding it.
“I need you, doll. I need to be inside you.”
“Please! I need you too!”
You didn’t want to pull away from him, even to remove your panties, so you pulled the flimsy fabric to the side, before taking hold of him and guiding him to your entrance.
Bucky let out a gasp and fell back onto the mattress as he started to slide into your heat. Your hands went to his chest, looking for stability and leverage as you moved yourself up and down, drawing him into you, inch by glorious inch.
It felt so fucking good! The stretch, the slight burn. And you were also certain that it wouldn’t matter how long it had been since you’d last had sex, this, with Bucky, would still be mind blowing. His hand was on your waist, helping to keep you stable as you moved. You were so fixated on how he felt inside you, that it took you a few moments to realise that he was talking to you.
“You’re fucking glorious, you know that? I swear, tomorrow we’re gonna do this when I have two arms and I’m gonna take you apart. ‘M gonna fucking feast on you.”
You laughed and tossed your head as you continued to ride him. “Is that… fuck!... a promise?”
“Sure is! Gonna help you remember what stars look like.”
“Get that hand on me and you can help me now!”
“Yeah? You close, doll? I fucking hope so, ‘cause I swear ‘m gonna cum again, any second.”
Bucky moved his hand from your waist, sliding it between you and searching for your clit. You gasped, the bundle of nerves so sensitive, so engorged you knew it wouldn’t take much to make you…
You let out a loud whine, your body clenching down on his cock and your fingernails curling into the flesh of pecs as the pleasure washed over your body.
“That’s it, baby. That’s it. Fuck! So beautiful when you cum. Gonna fill you up… you’re gonna have me leaking outta you for days…”
His words were cut off, becoming a shout as he came. And, fuck, he hadn’t been joking. You could feel him pulsing inside you, feel the warmth of his cum filling you, and then leaking out of you, coating your thighs. It felt as though your orgasm just kept going as you rode out the aftershocks, jolts of pleasure continuing to shoot through you, just as you thought there couldn’t possibly be any more.
Eventually they stopped and you slumped forward onto Bucky’s sweaty body. His arm came around your waist and rolled the pair of you to lie sideways on the bed. Your eyelids drooped; you were so tired. You desperately wanted to sleep but…
“Jimbo!”
You tried to sit up, but Bucky urged you back down.
“It’s okay. You sleep, okay, doll?” I’ll pop down, take him outside then make sure he has his food, yeah? Then I’ll be back, ready to sleep next to you, all night long. That sound alright?
You smiled softly, high on dopamine and sleepy as hell.
“Sounds perfect, Bucky. Thank you for helping.”
“No problem at all, doll. No problem at all.
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Tag list: @jobean12-blog @bucky-bucky-bucky-bucky @tuiccim @yarnforbrains @sidepartskinnyjeans @flordeamatista @krissy25 @bodeckersdiamonddoll @goldylions @luxeavenger @wheezy-stucky @doasyoudesireandlive @chemtrails-club @seitmai @peaches1958 @pono-pura-vida @writing-for-marvel
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stcverogers · 1 year
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MARCH FIC RECS!
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fics that i’ve been reading and obsessing with over the month of march
this is extremely important and i take this very seriously out of respect for the community. please do remember to read the rules for the respective blogs before interacting with or reading them.
F: fluff A: angst S: smut
𖥻 - series /multi part
masterlist
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BUCKY BARNES
F + A: a date by @delaber you get asked out on a date. as your best friend, bucky should be happy for you, right?
F: gift for you by @sstan-hoe it's valentine's day and you have a special gift for bucky
F + A: ignite your bones by @sunriserose1023 you and bucky barnes did not get along, why then did he care for you so much?
F + A: lost and found by @dolcezzasfantasy 𖥻 you're arrested for disrupting the sacred timeline.
F + A: mr hollywood by @buckybabybaby 𖥻 bucky, you closest friend and teaching assistant, finally gets his big break and given the oppurtunity of pursuing his dreams. sadly, hollywood changes people and your friendship is on the rocks.
F + A: i carry your heart (i carry it in my heart) by @lunarbuck 𖥻 as a princess, it is your duty to pursure the best interests of your kingdom. even if it meant being arranged to men you cannot love, not when your heart belongs to another.
F + A: assured by dreams by @sergeantxrogers 𖥻 a knight should not ever fall in love with a princess, especially not one who he has been given the honour to protect.
F + A: i want to hold your hand by @thismustbefakeme 𖥻 if sam had to sit and watch you and bucky pine over each other for one more moment, he just might lose it.
A: don't say anything by @cumonbucky 𖥻 you're done hiding your feelings and ready to confess them to bucky. your heart is broken when you accidentally walk in on him and natasha.
F + A: perfectly, incandescently by @tikus-library you misinterpret a conversation bucky has with steve and same, leaving you disheartened and hurt.
F + A: fear of falling + taxi + reunited by @onceuponastory you're in love with bucky, a pilot working in the same airline as you. why did loving someone hurt this much?
F + A: the forever third wheels by @witchywithwhiskey with you and bucky being the only single ones in your friend group, the two of you were stuck being the forever third wheels. abandoned at the fair by your friends, you and bucky are left to yourselves.
F + A: bad match by @justreadingfics you finally relent to sharon's persisting and go on a date she's set you up with. the date ends up terrible and you're heartbroken after it.
F + A: accidentally by @pomelo-villano bucky overhears a conversation you have with you daughter and misinterprets your words, thinking you don't love him anymore.
F: little things by @sunshine-on-my-mind it's the little things bucky does that makes life worth living
F + A: warrior/worrier by @delaber bucky returns from a mission, broken and bruised beyond compare, seeking you out for comfort.
F + A: so this is love by @ofstarsandvibranium 𖥻 bucky's known for being kind of a slut but since becoming his roommate, you've accustomed to his conquests.
F + A: the sleepover by @littleredwolf thought you and have bucky have been together for a while, he has yet to spend the night at your place. he's an empty shell of a man that he once was and you're willing to show him the comfort he deserves.
S: see you both next shift + part 2 bucky grows jealous when he sees another customer flirting with you
F: drabble by @itzmich03 baby anthony and bucky argue about who is your favourite
F + A: 27 dresses by @beccaanne814 𖥻 you've been to numerous weddings, 27 to be exact, ranging from crazy to extravagent. when will you finally get to attend your own?
F + A: all this love by @onceuponastory john walker has some choice words to say about bucky and you'll not allow someone to disrespect your boyfriend like that
F + A: you fracture light again by @divine-mistake you have ruined bucky. for he will never love someone else as much as he does you.
F + S: a million summers by @intrepidacious bucky returns home from college and your dyanmic shifts
F: comfort hug by @lives-in-midgard a hug from bucky is enough for you to forget all your stress from the day
F: save me darling, for you are my salvation by @rxgerthatt as bucky learns to grow into the person he can be after the winter soldier, he meets you. you and all your cafe-owning glory.
F: it's been a long, long, time by @dolcezzasfantasy bucky returns the pym particles, rightfully staying in the century he belongs in.
F: two syllables by @coffee-with-bucky bucky's moved to tears when baby ben says his first words
F: happily ever after by @redhoodssweetheart as king, bucky rules with an iron fist. for you, he's different.
F + A: why can't i say that i'm in love? by @buckthegrump princesses don't belong with commoners, let alone the son of a baker
F + A: spilled wine by @sunmoonandeddie you 're nothing more than a woman who warms the king's bed, at least, that's what you felt like you were
F: valentine's day by @classylo it's valentine's day and you're hopelessly in love with bucky
F + A: listen to me, not just my words by @lilacletter stranded in the midst of a storm after a failed mission, you and bucky are left to seek shelter in a safe house. with your friendship already handing by a thread, tension arises.
F + A: drifting by @real-jane 𖥻 in a cabin in the middle of the snow, bucky hides from the demons from his past. he saves an injured woman and struggles to keep her alive while hiding who he is and was from her.
F: there is no right way by @mysecretlittlelibrary 𖥻 lily barnes is a matchmaker first and troublemaker second
F: come home by @sinner-as-saint after a tiring day at work, bucky comes home to his beautiful family
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SAM WILSON
F + A: lover by @roger-that-cap sam wilson is a certified lover boy
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AARON HOTCHNER
F: realizations by @writtenbysprout aaron wakes up in the middle of the night to you being gone from the bed. he goes and investigates and comes to a realisation that you are the only one for him.
F: tiebreaker by @persephonewritessometimes you teach aaron a card game you like to play and of course he wins first try.
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thebluemage · 1 year
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The Hills | Steve Kemp
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Pairing | Steve Kemp x dark!reader
Warning | Explicit sexual content, 18+, smut, obsessive behavior, possessive behavior, cyberstalking, hacking, gaslighting, dark web, black market harvesting, manipulation, mentions of canibalism, mentions of distributing of body parts, mentions of kidnapping, mentions of Stockholm Syndrome, dark themes, Steve Kemp (he's a warning on his own!)
Summary | You discover Steve’s dark secret but you still admire him for it.
Word Count | 3163
A/N | Here’s the next part to Obsession, enjoy! ❤️ Beta’d by the amazing @lunarbuck, but all mistakes are my own. Banner & divider made by @vase-of-lilies. If y’all enjoy it, leave some feedback, comment and reblog. I’d really appreciate it!! 💗
Taglist: @superdcchick @hallecarey1 @dangertoozmanykids101 @jobean12-blog @buckysteveloki-me @happydelightfulstrawberry @lovehotch87
First chapter | Series Masterlist | Masterlist | My Ko-fi
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‘I only call you when it’s half-past five. The only time that I’ll be by your side, I only love it when you touch me, not feel me. When I’m fucked up, that’s the real me. When I’m fucked up, that’s the real me, yeah.’ - The Weeknd
A few days go by, and you can’t stop thinking about Steve. Between the back-and-forth texting, he is nice and funny, everything you could ever ask for. You’re absolutely smitten with him. Just as you pull your laptop onto your lap, you receive a text from Steve.
Hey, Angel. Want to meet up? 
Yes, of course! Are you calling me ‘angel’ now?
Oh, yeah! Unless, you want me to stop… If that makes you uncomfortable.
No, no, please. Keep going, I like that! 
Good, it’s a date! I will send you the address and time! I can’t wait to see you again! My angel.
He sends you the address that is located near the bookshop where you first met him, and it’s not far from your place. You decide to walk the distance there, which is just a few blocks away.
You walk into a warm and cozy cafe. The smell of coffee roams around the acoustic atmosphere of the place. It’s lovely. As you look through the crowd of people, you lock your eyes on Steve again. A smile spreads across your face.
“Hey there, handsome.” You approach the booth where he’s sitting. He stands up and greets you with a hug. “Hey, Angel.”
He’s wearing a soft brown sweater with black pants to complete the look. You wrap your arms around his body as you slide closer to him. His large hands touch your back while he pulls you into his embrace. The scent of his cologne infiltrates your nostrils as you smell his strong scent, a mix of a dewy scent of sage and bergamot. You never want to let him go, not ever.
“You smell nice.” You voice out when you sadly pull away from him.
“Thank you, Angel. You’re so delightful, and you look beautiful as ever.” He compliments  as he takes another look at you, roaming his eyes on your body. “Magnificent.”
Steve is utterly fixated on you. He can’t believe that he has found someone as heavenly as you are. Ethereal yet tangible, wholesome yet sinful to his desires. He only wants more of you with each passing second, he wants to know what you feel like wrapped around him as he rampantly thrusts into you. Fire arises when you look at him, as if you can see right through him. He can’t wait to take a bite out of you.
“You flatter me, Steve.” You reply to him, when you avert your eyes back to Steve, becoming aware of his intense gaze on you. Your eyes connect together, and you feel a spark igniting in your gut.
“It’s the truth.” He states as his stare lingers on. You couldn’t look away from him, afraid to lose this sense of coming home.
“Uhh, let’s sit down.” He takes your hand and maneuvers you into the booth. He takes his place with you sitting next to him.
“So, here come the awkward questions,” he declares while he laughs a bit. 
You tell Steve some basic information about yourself as he listens intently. You don’t want to reveal everything about yourself to him as you feel apprehensive about opening up, so you improvise a generic white lie.
I won’t tell him about my job and about my hacking skills. Maybe I can do more damage and use it to my advantage. 
You tell him a different job occupation and he nods notably.
A waiter comes to your booth to take your orders and leaves quickly, hurrying to the next customer. Several minutes later, another waiter comes with your orders.
“So, what brings you to town, Steve?” You ask him as you tilt your head curiously.
“My second residency.”
“Nice. I can imagine many women would line up just to get a procedure done by you.”
“Not that many, if I’m being honest. Most women that come to me want to change their physique. You have the occasional boob job, tummy tucks.” He plucks a red cherry out of the cup and pops it in his mouth.
“And butt lifts.” You finish for him with a smile.
“Yeah, that too,” He chuckles knowingly.
“Do you have any social media, perhaps?” You ask him as you take your phone out of your bag to search him online.
“I don’t have any.” He shakes his head immediately.
Hmm, strange. 
“Instagram?” You question, persisting on answers as you move closer to him.
“I don’t feel like sharing things about my private life.”
“Okay, that’s valid.”
“What about Twitter?” You continue the questions as you bring your body forward to him and lean your head against your hand for support. He takes a few sips from his drink, taking his time to answer.
“No. Does anyone have anything smart to say on Twitter? No way.” 
“How am I able to contact you more easily? If not via social media, and only texting?”
“I don’t know, you can always send me a letter the old-fashioned way,” he suggests jokingly, as you laugh at his witty comment. He looks up at you, and something mischievous glimmers through his eyes while he smiles at you. 
“What?” You ask him when he keeps staring at you, taking a glimpse at your mouth.
“You have such a beautiful smile.”
“Thank you, Steve. You’re so kind.”
The afternoon progresses to evening, and you and Steve lose track of time. When Steve goes to the toilet, you decide to peek into his wallet that he left behind. His ID card  presents a different identity than what he alluded to. His actual name is Brendan Steven Kemp. 
Huh. Should keep that in mind. What secrets are you hiding, Steve? No social media? Come on now, what doctor doesn’t have a social media of their own?
Before he comes back, you take a picture of his ID card from both sides for later search purposes and neatly put it back into his wallet. Between laughter and regular flirting, you both seem to be in a trance-like state, together in your own little bubble. The tension builds up between you and him; it’s undeniable. As soon as you two walk out of the cafe and walk the short distance to your apartment, the attraction is palpable.
“Fuck this.” You approach him and close the space between you and him. You grab his face and crush your lips onto his with a passionate fire.  
Steve immediately reciprocates and kisses you back. His mind races due to his own duality for you. He must have you. You moan when you feel his tongue sliding into your mouth, clashing onto yours with wild abandon. Steve is enticed by you while he roams his hands all over your body, like a madman. Overwhelming and hot. When you open your apartment door, you both storm through it. When your back hits against the wall of the tiny hallway, you start to pull your jacket off, and let it fall to the floor.
He pulls away slightly to catch his breath and looks at you through gentle eyes while cradling the sides of your face. “Maybe we’re going too fast.”
Oh. That’s the first time. Why is that?
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to rush into it, we can slow down if you like.” You start to back away from the wall when Steve moves away from you, contemplating on what to do. You pick your jacket from the floor and neatly hang it to the coathanger.
“Uhh, do you want something to drink?” You ask him as you go further into your living room, going towards the kitchen. Steve runs a hand through his hair before scratching his forehead with his thumb as he watches you intently and doesn’t respond. He looks away for a second before you continue.
“Or eat?” He looks straight at you with a wild look again, as if he changed his mind again. 
Steve can’t let you go, no matter what. To him, you feel like a necessity, a longing that he hasn’t felt in ages, similar to the longing that he only has when he eats his type of meat. It’s inexplicable and indescribable. You’re the quintessential person of his desires. He lets himself fall on your couch when he sighs and directs his gaze to you again, almost pleading and hopeful. 
“Just you, Angel.” He gets out of the couch and makes a beeline straight toward you, grabs your face, and pulls you into him, pressing his lips hard against yours. Your breath catches in your throat while you place your hands on his head. A whimper slips past your lips as you’re unable to resist your longing for him.
You greedily touch Steve’s body wherever you can as you guide him to your bedroom. Every touch makes you crave him more, your thoughts whirl around in your mind at a rapid pace. He groans and moves the hand to cup the back of your neck and deepens the kiss, spearing his tongue in your mouth. Your nipples harden and your pussy clenches the longer Steve kisses you. You lay on your bed and start to undress all of your clothes quickly while Steve does the same, staring at you with a hefty and lewd gaze glimmering through his eyes. 
He climbs on top of you as he hovers his body over you while he stares passionately; his cerulean eyes growing darker by the second. He can’t believe your beauty, a stunning sight before his own eyes as if you’re a celestial being. He slowly moves his head down and starts to kiss you deeply again.
“I want you, my love,” he muses out hoarsely. He’s breathing just as harshly as you are.
“I’ve wanted you for days. Ohh!” You exclaim when Steve cups your breasts in his hands and molds your flesh before he pinches and plucks at your nipples, sending shivers up your spine.
“Hmm, you’re so responsive to me. Good girl.” He utters out seductively. He takes one of your breasts to his mouth and laps at your nipple with his tongue while flicking the other with his hand.
“Oh, fuck!” You announce as you close your eyes at the way Steve’s salacious tongue swirls around your sensitive nipple. He hums with how your soft skin feels to him, savoring every inch of you; his hands making their way to your aching core. 
“Let me worship you, angel. I need to taste you now.” He rasps out, with urgency in his voice. He makes his way down while he gently bites into your skin, leaving red marks on the surface. He sets himself between your thighs and bites into each of them.
“Oh, fuck Steve!” You moan as your face contorts with pleasure as he suddenly shoves his face right onto your heat.
“I’m going to ravish you until you’re not able to utter a single word.” His dark cerulean eyes pierce through you as he hums. “And you’re going to be mine.” The feeling of his tongue going through your slit makes your back arch from the bed, and you moan out his name.
“Please, Steve! I– I’ll do anything!” You plead through jagged breaths while he deliciously defiles you. He wraps his arms around your thighs, holding you firmly into place. He gives you long strokes, capturing every bit of essence you have. He sucks and laps your wet slick up with his mouth as if it’s the last drop of water he’ll ever drink in his life. He’s enticed by your taste, and he can’t wait until his cock is deep inside of you.
“Aahh! Steve!” You wail as you grasp a handful of his luscious hair and pull it. He groans, sending surges of lightning over your body. Your hips buck up as your body quiver underneath him, taking in all the bliss until you feel one of his fingers prodding into you, seeking entrance to your wet and aching pussy.
“Oh fuck!!” You exclaim as you arch your back from the bed while you hear the muffled groans of Steve underneath you. In one swift motion, he delves two fingers into your slit. A coat of your slick envelops his fingers as Steve licks ferociously on your clit.
“Come for me.” His sultry demand comes out low and husky as if he’s trying to contain his never-ending lust for you.
Your hips buck as your head falls onto the pillow from beneath you, when your eyes roll back into their sockets. You feel yourself come undone for him as your walls squeeze around Steve’s digits. 
“Aaaahh, Steve!!”
“Good. Good girl.” He ushers to your cunt as his strokes lightly decrease. He licks your wetness up with his tongue, and he hums out delicately.
“Hmm, you’re so exquisite.”
“T–thank you, Steve.” 
Your chest heaves heavily up as you gradually catch up your breath. He picks up your body tenderly and lays you gently next to him, wrapping his arms around your waist. You still feel his erection against the lobes of your ass.
You turn your head in his direction with a questioning look.
“Huh, and what about you?” You look at him, confused yet still dazed from your ravenous orgasm.
“Shh, sh, don’t worry about me, I just want to be close to you, skin-to-skin contact. This night was about your pleasure, not mine,” He simply answers. “Go to sleep, my Angel. You deserve to be well rested.”
Your eyes begin to feel heavy as the dim night light protrudes from the curtain of your window. You lift your arm and wrap it around his chest, pulling yourself more into his embrace. 
“Okay, Steve.” You softly accept his demand as your mind dwindles away from any worries. Steve sighs peacefully in return.
“Goodnight, Steve.”
“Goodnight, my Angel.” It’s the last thing you hear before your eyes drift to a close, and you fall into a deep slumber.
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The next day stumbles in slowly, with the sunlight peeking through the curtain. Rays of sunshine fall upon your face, enveloping you in warmth. Your eyes open slowly, and you’re in Steve’s arms. He’s still sleeping peacefully when suddenly an alarm starts to go off. Steve opens his eyes rapidly and checks the clock, he hurriedly gets out of bed.
“Oh, fuck. I totally forgot the time,” He says when he starts to dress up in his pants again before taking his shirt off the ground. “My shift at the hospital starts in thirty minutes.”
“Oh, what hospital do you work at?” You ask innocently.
“St. John’s Hospital,” He answers while he pulls his shirt over his head. “My first procedure starts in an hour. A patient is going to be very happy with their boob job.” He continues.
“Well, they’re in good hands with you.” You affirm encouragingly. You hoist yourself up from the bed in a sitting position. 
“Why, thank you. I'll see you tonight, Angel.” He takes your hand in his and kisses the top of your hand gently. 
“That’s alright, have a good day at work, handsome.”
“I’ll be thinking of you,” He softly intones when he’s all fully dressed and gathering all his belongings. “See you later, Angel.” And with that, he leaves through your apartment door. 
You squeal cheerily as you start your daily morning routine. Once you’re dressed and finished eating, you think you should do research on ‘Steve’. You want to know everything about him, so naturally, you take up your laptop and place it on your island and decide to do a simple search on Google. The only results that come up are from his reconstructive surgery website and a few articles that he wrote but there’s something else too, another result, a woman named Ann Kemp. 
Out of curiosity, you click on the link. And it redirects you to a Facebook page of a blonde-haired woman with a picture of her family standing in front of a house. And there he is, Steve, standing and smiling with his family. He has a wife and a dog. Ann is holding the dog on a leash. You can’t help but to take another look at the woman, there’s something off about her, but you can’t exactly pinpoint it. You zoom in on her, looking at her hand, and you notice she’s wearing a wedding ring on her left hand. 
You should have known that he was married. He’s too good to be true. You take a different approach with your searching. Since you're a talented hacker, you know your way around technology and the mechanics of it. You pull up a more advanced browser that can search literally anything related or attached to that specific name, word or thing.  The general public would know that browser and use it to go on the Dark Web. You have a program installed, so your IP address isn’t trackable. You remember having a picture of his ID with his real name on your phone. So, you take your phone out and look into it and you type in his name ‘Brendan Steven Kemp’. Up come a thousand search results from the normal search results of ‘reconstructive doctor' to a much sinister, more disturbing and shocking result.
There’s a business. The logo contains a white background, and a red logo of a head of a goat with a snake eating itself around it is displayed. You click on the logo, and it redirects you to a website. To your horror, you come to find that Steve practices in the most inhuman activities ever done. He harvests human meat and sells them on the dark web. And here you are, looking at his webshop. The various ‘products’ are listed by mainly female names. There’s a hand that goes by ‘Hope’, and the description is ever so horribly detailed as if it is a delicacy. With a price tag of thirteen thousand dollars!!
I knew it!! You have a wife!! I have to get out her of the picture, though. I can’t have her orbiting around you like some lost puppy dog. I can’t have that, Steve. There’s also something wrong with her, and how did you meet her anyway? Let me guess, you probably kidnapped her too, and she got Stockholm syndrome as a result.
You immediately go to work with it and pick through his encrypted layers of codes, and when you finally reach the barrier, you unlock the access. With ease, you gain access to his illicit webshop. With another set of difficult codes you shut off his website, and everything turns black.
So, that’s why you’re so private, Steve. You have a wife and are a cannibal. Being able to kidnap dozens of women, probably mutilate them, so as to keep them alive until there’s nothing left, consume them, and ultimately kill them to sell them. And I thought so highly of you. Are you going to do the same to me? Only one way to find out, I guess.
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flordeamatista · 1 year
Text
𝗕𝗼𝘂𝗻𝗱 𝗧𝗼 𝗬𝗼𝘂
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pairing: dark mob!bucky barnes x stewardess!reader
concept: Like clouds dancing in the air giving the setting sun a reason to live, that is how you came into his life. 
word count: 2k
warnings: possessive Bucky, dark Bucky, dubcon/noncon (to be safe on the kidnapp-ing, drug—ing), desire,lust, p— in-—v, mile high club, man—ipulation mature themes, edging, fingering, nickname ──(Princess, Sweetheart)
a/n: Written for @the-slumberparty April Mob AU Challenge. In the midst of my muse going off and on, I finally received the muse to finish this story from the writing fairies to submit it on the last day.
The prompt: “If it wasn’t meant to be, you wouldn’t fit me so perfectly.”
lovely beta:@lunarbuck & @targaryenvampireslayer
line divider by @s-tarksintern ──the cute gif/moodboard made by me
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Masterlist
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Despite the distance, I can still sense you. 
What a waste of time. 
You feel your heart sink as you realize you have been stood up. You try to distract yourself by focusing on the flickering candlelight on the table and taking a deep breath.
It's as if the radiant flame is a reminder of your feelings for him, a reminder that won't go away no matter how difficult the situation gets.
His deep crimson eyes, burning intensely, ran wild during lustful nights and burned so hard every day you were with him. 
This light was visible only to you. 
His possessiveness and jealousy, however, were like melting wax into molten tears of your fears as you fled. That night, when you left him, it ached for you, but you knew it was time to leave. You left, never looking back, never feeling his piercing light again. His hold on you was more than physical; it was as if he treated you as if you were his property and wanted whatever he thought best for you, regardless of what you wanted. 
You are finally free. 
Fresh air is the most beneficial thing for you. You have to venture into a new atmosphere, experience a new life, and encounter a new man.
Recharge from him and getting a fresh beginning.
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The waiter comes with a drink. 
"On the house. He doesn't deserve you for standing you up."
You had the feeling that the restaurant staff were watching you and were sorry your date had not arrived. You’d been holding on to the idea that he was stuck at work for almost two hours but after sitting at the table alone and stupid, you’re giving up hope.
You quickly down the drink, hoping it will give you some relief from the humiliation and arduous wait. 
 “So much for romance,” you mutter into the glass. 
"Maybe your man is nearby," the waiter says softly in fear as you stare at him in confusion.
 Your attention is drawn to the door as he points to it. 
A stone wall surrounds you, and suddenly, the air is thick as syrup.
It feels like your body is drained, your arms and hands are heavy, and every movement feels like a struggle, as you grasp the table, feeling numb. There he stands, him, with a bouquet of roses in his hand. A smirk escapes his lips as fire returns to the room. 
But you keep seeing blurry figures, hoarse voices, and the sensation that your body is swallowing. The room looks like a slow-moving carnivorous scene. Air around you feels heavy and thick, as if it is tightly wrapped around you, suffocating you.
As if your body is turning to stone, you feel helpless, but a touch brings a sliver of reality when blue ocean eyes and “You can’t be taking free drinks from a stranger, Sweetheart. Just sleep and it will be okay.” Fingers stroke your cheek and you keep your eyes open. 
“There is no escape.” He kisses you on the forehead, and you see darkness. 
Your eyes only belong to him and he looks forward to seeing them again
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It is only when you see his shadows and feel the beating of your heart that you know where you were.
Though you want to run, you return to him by the hand of the universe. In his hands.
A smirk appears on his face. “Hello, Lovebug. Our paths cross again. I want to know why you ran from me. Nobody, not even you, runs from me." His deep voice carries anger while his eyes focus on you.
“Where am I?” 
You see him stare down at you and tap his glass of Scotch, but you realize you are not at his house but on his private jet. In the midst of the peaceful flight across the clouds, you can sense the jet moving peacefully. 
But you are next to the darkest cloud of the world.
There is only one dark king in the world of mobs, Bucky Barnes. 
You can feel yourself being pulled into darkness, unsure of what the future holds. “Fuck you.” You take his glass and throw it across the plane.
You slap him hard across the face, causing his head to snap to the side. The sound of the slap echoes throughout the small plane. 
His eyes suddenly sparkle with rage as he pushes you back against the jet's cabin.
 As you stare at his lips, he licks them.
 This is the end for you, and you know it. 
His touch is electrifying, and he seems to sense it. With an inviting smirk, he leans in closer, leaving you with no doubt as to his intentions. 
He will make sure your words are moans for his name with a single touch
He reaches down and pulls up your dress, then slowly runs to your underwear. His fingers glide through your pussy. You can feel your heart beating faster as his touch enthralls you, as he brings you to the edge of pleasure. His eyes are dark and lustful, and he whispers, "I know she's ready for more. Let's make her happy, the king is home." Keeping his thumb firmly pressed against your most intimate area, he rubs it back and forth rhythmically, and you surrender to his words and the touch of his fingers.
He slides two thick fingers deep into your pussy, and you whimper. "Don't tell me you don't want me," he growls, leans in and bites your bottom lip, as his other hand grips your throat, fingers pumping you hard.
He aggressively takes your lips. His body shakes and he collapses onto you, exhausted. His breath is hot in your ear as he whispers your name. His tongue slides through your mouth as your whole body melts against him. He breaks the kiss and he looks down at you with a satisfied smirk. 
His body is trembling, and he wraps his arms around you, pulling you close. 
His hard body presses against yours while he moans.
He adds another finger to your pussy and your eyes roll back. His touch sends electric pleasure waves through your body. His growl echoes the intensity of those feelings coursing through your body. "I will give you more so you know you are mine." His fingers send you over the edge, your moans growing louder in the room. 
Biting your lip and trying to stay upright, you roll your eyes back in your head. 
Like clouds dancing in the air giving the setting sun a reason to live, that is how you came into his life. 
The stewardess of his private jet bandaged the shallow cut on his arm in silence when he won a fight and was on his way home. A sense of hope and possibility was brought by your unexpected arrival. He was given a glass of bourbon by you to ease the pain, but all he wanted was to feel the touch of your hands on his skin to soothe the wound. The sun shined through the plane that day as you flew in the air, he kissed you on the lips to claim you as his. 
The world was in his hands in every aspect, and even the air obeyed him, so there was no place for him to hide. Even though you attempted to run from the lifestyle, his hands were visible on your skin every second of the day and you were his.
In this moment when you know he is tracing what is his, you want him to trace more. 
Your body moans at his touch.
You are left utterly frustrated when he suddenly draws his fingers from you. 
You want to scream, but the sound never escapes your lips. He is playing a game, and you are on the verge of losing badly. Your breathing is heavy, and your eyes sting with tears yet to fall. In this moment, you feel trapped by overwhelming sensations and powerlessness. 
A soft whispered apology graced your lips. "I didn't mean to leave you. I needed air."
With his back to you, Bucky smirks in response to your unease, none of which he wants you to feel. Taking off his suit jacket, he turns to you as he removes his tie, unbuttons his shirt, and slowly rolls up his sleeves.
"Come here," he whispers softly. 
You stand, weighing your options, knowing you have none, since he is always a step ahead, forcing you to bend your knees to him. There is nowhere to hide or scream. He seems unimpressed after you take a few steps to ease up under his obedience.
“Come here now,” he says harshly. He is not backing down, and his tone makes it clear that you have no choice but to obey his order. It is unusual for him to repeat himself, and his eyes are burning. 
You obey, not wanting to anger him further. He sneers as you walk over, your heart beating wildly. He grabs your arm and pulls you closer, his breath hot on your face.
"I'm going to give you two options, baby," he growls. "You can take my cock, or you can cry while I make you take it."
Bucky has everything in his life, from power to his girl.
He ignites my flame once again with his words
Your pussy takes him in as he grinds his hips against you. His breathing becomes heavier as he takes you in. Every movement is torture and ecstasy simultaneously. His gaze is locked on you and he moves closer to deepening the connection between you and him. He feels like there's no one else in this world, but the two of you. He has been under his spell since the moment he laid eyes on you.
"Don't you need me, Princess?" he whispers softly, grabbing your jaw. But you can’t answer. "Answer me, baby," he says in a low, growling voice as he thrusts inside you slowly. "Or I will not let you come all fucking night!"
Your body burns and you know he will keep his promise, making your suffering even worse. You are his to take. You whisper, "I need it," into the air.
“Yes,” he growls again as your flesh yields. "You are..." He tightens his fingers around yours as he grinds against you. "Mine." He thrust faster and harder. In. Out. Faster. Stronger. The thrill of his body thumping into you was apparent in every thrust. 
"If it wasn't meant to be, you wouldn't fit me so perfectly. Look at our movement as one, darling." His breathing is heavy and ragged as he pushes himself in deeper, claiming every inch of your body. 
His words, touch, and excited expression make you lose your breath. 
He whispers darkly, "Your pussy is so happy to see me." His movements are precise and calculated, and you arch your back and wrap your legs around him to push him closer with each thrust.
You can feel the pleasure building up as your orgasm is quickly approaching. Finally, you reach the peak as you tremble and moan.
Your freedom from him slips away from you. 
Once again, you have crossed a dangerous, fine line, as Bucky said, you have nowhere to run. You have no choice but to take on the consequences of your actions. You watch the clouds move across the sky as you move with him in rhythm, knowing that no land can hide you.
Your voice echoes his name, and they remain until the end of time
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buckrecs · 8 months
Note
do you have a ceo bucky list ?
CEO!Bucky
masterlist | req masterlist
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ONESHOT
With Love by @jobean12-blog
Bucky might be the most powerful, successful, smartest, sexiest, most perfect CEO in all of New York but he’s your sweet and soft husband first and knows just how to show it.
Cuffing Season by @lunarbuck
Happy birthday, Mr. Barnes
SERIES
The Bienville by @indyluckycharlie
Bucky is the young CEO of his family’s publishing house. A year into the role and working his ass off, he’s finally taking a much needed vacation (upon the advice of his well-meaning family and friends). Solo and feeling a little lost, Bucky finds himself getting a little attached to the front desk receptionist, a local who grew up on the islands and dreams of bigger things.
Monster-In-Law by @holylulusworld
Your mother-in-law is the worst. She will try anything to ruin your loving relationship with Bucky. Will she succeed?
Beneath The Milky Twilight by @bucksangel
Being Mr. Barnes’ personal assistant has been tough, balancing a full time job while taking care of your younger brothers has you running yourself thin. Then, things take a sharp turn after a dinner with your boss when you disclose your financial situation.
Not Me by @simsadventures
Billionaire/entrepreneur Bucky is married to seemingly timid and meek wife, the reader. While he hates her with all he has, she tried to act her part as the wife of the big CEO. And while their relationship falls apart more and more, they both realised there might be more to the story than they previously believed. Will they be able to repair the damage that’s been done, or will they find happiness in somebody else’s arms?
Eye For An Eye by @sinner-as-saint
Battered and bruising, Y/N is out to seek sweet revenge from a man, James Buchanan Barnes, who tore her family apart 10 years ago. Y/N’s plan was simple; infiltrate his life, mess with his head, toy with his heart and leave him broken. Headstrong, she will stop at nothing, not even when it comes down to her being the villain in her own story...
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jen-with-a-pen · 6 months
Text
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ALL TIED UP - ONE
Series
summary: Steve can't remember what happened lat night, but his body sure does. Regret is the worst hangover of all– even more so when you can't remember what you regret.
pairings: Art Student!Frat Brother!Steve Rogers x Film Student!Sorority Sister!Reader
word count: 955
chapter warnings: vague memories, indications of trauma, bruises, insomnia, dissociation, derealization, non-sexual nud1ty, mention and description of vomiting, anxiety attack, crying
a/n: So... this happened. the original wip was a one-shot inspired by this year's Whumptober Prompt #17: COLLAR, "LEAVE ME ALONE!"; as well as Alt. Prompt #15: RELUCTANT WHUMPER. I was going to use an idea I've had for a long time, but then I wrote... and wrote... and wrote... and now we're here. I struggled deciding on an idea for this and am thinking about also writing a separate work with Bucky, but I might also maybe be planning one from the readers POV, and maybe kinda sorta joining the two together and seeing where it goes. we'll see! I hope you enjoy
The most specialest of special thanks to two of my loves @vonalyn and @lunarbuck for helping me flesh out this idea and enable me in my destruction ♥ i owe you both a beefy alpha soon
gif by @paliaphrodite | additional graphics + dividers by me ♥
my ao3 | my masterlist | all tied up masterlist Read this fic HERE on ao3! ♥Reblogs and comments are highly appreciated as always ♥
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Saturday, currently.
The alarm clock on Steve Rogers’ bedside table blares louder than it usually does.
Steve is already awake, however. He’s been awake for hours, lying in bed, staring unblinking at the faded white ceiling of his frat house bedroom. His eyes are bloodshot, the corners crusted from one part insomnia and one part tears. His body aches. Every muscle, every bone, feels like he’s been beaten senseless.
He doesn’t remember when he stopped crying.
Finally, he blinks. Slowly, unevenly, inhaling deeply. He holds it for a moment, the pressure in his chest providing some semblance of feeling in the numbness throughout his body. An exhale forces its way out of his lungs once the pressure begins to burn. He wills his hand to move, dropping on top of the alarm clock and his room falls back into silence once more. His hand falls limp off the nightstand as he drags it back to his side.
In a blur of his very few– and very failed– attempts to sleep that night, Steve remembers the second time he woke with a shout halfway out his throat. The navy blue comforter had tangled up in his sprawled limbs, the sheets being an entirely different mess at the foot of the bed. He’d thrown all of the covers on his bed onto the floor around three in the morning, when he succumbed to the threat of nightmares and insomnia, forced to lie awake.  
His skin feels filthy, coated in scum and shame. Cold sweat beads on his forehead, neck, and back. His clothes– an old t-shirt he dug out of his closet and a reused pair of boxers– cling to him like a second, heavy skin. He needs to shed it, tear it off his body, claw it off until he hits bone. Everything feels suffocating as his tired brain swims with flashbacks to the night– the disaster– before. The shouts. The people. The sweat and tears. 
The sex.
The thought of the word itself– and all connotations now attached to it– is enough to send a lurch through Steve’s stomach. It comes to a rolling boil, ready to spill up and out his throat, a touch of acid burning the back of his tongue. He scrambles out of bed and sprints to the bathroom down the hall. The door flies open, lights flickering on as he slaps a free hand not covering his mouth at the light switch. He falls to his knees at the front of the toilet and heaves, instantly discarding the contents of his stomach into the bowl. He gags once, then twice, as tears stream down his face and neck. Strong hands grip the rim of the bowl like a vice, an anchor, to hold himself steady as he trembles. Curses echo off the porcelain and back up at him as he spits a final time, flushing and slumping against the cool acrylic of the bathtub. Part of him hopes he didn’t wake up the rest of the house, but another part hopes he did; he hopes that his retching reminds them, too, of what happened. 
Like they would fucking care.
Steve wipes his mouth. Clammy skin catches on his chapped lips. He groans, his heart racing, the room spinning, as he attempts to gather himself. The grimy feeling remains on his skin; his hands feel especially filthy. He inhales, shaky, and grabs onto the side of the tub. Despite his build– muscular and fit and usually capable– he struggles to stand from the floor. Once on stable feet, he shuffles to the bathroom door and pushes the button on the knob. The door locks with a soft click. He double checks by jiggling the handle. Nodding to himself, Steve turns to face the mirror, sliding off his damp t-shirt and boxers, dropping them to the floor. His hands morph into tight fists at his side, hard gaze remaining fixed on the nickel-plated faucet of the sink. Shame gnaws at him, at his insides, at his soul. 
He can’t even face his own fucking reflection. 
Half-moons cut into each of his palms, fingernails digging into flesh; it's a sorry attempt at trying to ground himself. He chews at his lip and cheek, a copper taste coating his tongue when the tissue becomes raw. Eyes shut, face screwed tightly, he pivots his head up. He forces his eyes open, his gaze instantly met with a stranger.
He doesn’t recognize the man in the mirror. There are still-red, still-raw scratches panning across a hard chest and running down the abdomen. Bruises are strewn sporadically down arms and shoulders. The occasional bite mark becomes visible when the man moves his arms, rotating them, inspecting them in the mirror. Focus shifts to the groin. Claw marks, desperate and haphazard, litter thick thighs, the strands of raw red leading up to his dick. Flaccid. Still sensitive. The body mimicking Steve’s gestures doesn’t seem real. It isn’t him. This shitty replica, beaten and bruised– it isn’t him. 
Finally, his gaze shifts to the face.
Steve’s mouth dries up immediately, the lump in his throat growing bigger, thicker. Swallowing quickly becomes impossible. All blood drains from his face. His limbs lose feeling. He doesn’t believe it. He doesn’t remember– he cannot fucking remember.
Surrounding Steve’s right eye, swimming in sickly colors in the tender flesh of his cheek and temple, lies a blackened, bruised eye. Purples and blues and greens are painted around his swelling lid; the skin is still tender and throbbing. He brings his hand to his face and traces the wound delicately, as if he’ll further mar the skin on his own body. He flinches at the lightest touch against it. 
It hurts as he starts to cry.
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nekoannie-chan · 5 months
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Week 47 Reblog Masterlist
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Welcome to Week 47 2023 or Week 203, as always, fics would be listed in the order I read them.
I hope you enjoy it!
«────── « ⋅ʚ♡ɞ⋅ » ──────»
♥ You can check my reading guidelines here.
♥ You can check my masterlist here.
♥ You can check my main reblog masterlist 2023 here.
♥ You can check my November reblog masterlist 2023 here.
«────── « ⋅ʚ♡ɞ⋅ » ──────»
𝙺𝚎𝚢𝚜: 💛 ᵒʳᶤᵍᶤᶰᵃˡ ˢᵗᵒʳʸ
💜 ʰᵒʳʳᵒʳ
🖤 ᵈᵃʳᵏ
❤️ ˢᵐᵘᵗ
💚 ᶠˡᵘᶠᶠ
💙 ᵃᶰᵍˢᵗ
🧡 ᶜᵒᵐᵉᵈʸ
«────── « ⋅ʚ♡ɞ⋅ » ──────»
This is the list of the fics I read and recommend in Week 47 2023:
He has control (Steve Rogers X Reader) by @1-800-jjbarnes ❤️
Fine line (Steve Rogers X Reader) by @imamotherfuckingstar-lord 💚💙
Sleepy lovers (Miguel O’Hara X Reader) by @runa-falls ❤️
Always and forever part 13 (Steve Rogers X Reader) by @zaraomarrogers💚💙❤️
Collaring (Steve Rogers X Reader) by @welikeimagines-andfandoms❤️
Belated (Steve Rogers X Reader) by @mrsarnasdelicious ❤️
Tipsy tryst (Steve Rogers X Reader) by @eloquentreverie ❤️
Always and forever part 14 (Steve Rogers X Reader) by @zaraomarrogers💚💙❤️
Promises left behind part I (Sirius Black X Reader) by @moim0i 💚💙
Mine to keep (Scott Lang X Reader) by @the-soulofdevil 🖤❤️
Love of my life (Ransom Drysdale X Reader) by @ronearoundblindly 💚💙
Always and forever part 15 (Steve Rogers X Reader) by @zaraomarrogers💚💙❤️
First time (Steve Rogers X Reader) by @eloquentreverie ❤️
Double penetration (Steve Rogers X Reader) by @lunarbuck ❤️
Astronomy I (Sirius Black X Reader) by @weasleykisses💚
Always and forever part 16 (Steve Rogers X Reader) by @zaraomarrogers💚💙❤️
Shipping and handling chapter 3: Gravity (Stucky X Reader) by @darsynia 💚💙❤️
Trusting the Captain part 3 (Steve Rogers X Reader) by @cevansbaby-dove 💚💙
Tit play (Frank Castle X Reader) by @flightlessangelwings ❤️
Seven minutes part I (Steve Rogers X Reader) by @anika-ann❤️
Stars and stripes (Steve Rogers X Reader) by @intrepidacious💚
Trusting the Captain part 4 (Steve Rogers X Reader) by @cevansbaby-dove 💚💙
Should’ve been me (Steve Rogers X Reader) by @fangirlovestuff 💙
Roy Pulver fic (Roy Pulver X Reader) by @itwasthereaminuteago ❤️
Flufftober day 7 (Steve Rogers X Reader) by @incorrectmarvelquotesss 💚
Can’t wait (Steve Rogers X Reader) by @notyetneedcoffee ❤️
Perfectly imperfect (Steve Rogers X Reader) by @intrepidacious 💚
Out of time (Steve Rogers X Reader) by @questionableratatouille00 💚💙
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purpleshallot · 2 years
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A New Purpose
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Pairing: Marc Spector x f!Reader, Steven Grant x f!Reader
Summary: You wake up on the side of the street, unable to remember your name or where you came from. When a stranger offers you help, you quickly start to realize that this scenario seems very similar to one that you’ve already seen before.
Series tags: rewrite to include reader, strangers (?) to lovers, canon divergence, Layla is still included because I love her
Warnings: limited knowledge of Egyptian mythology, chapter warnings will be added each chapter
A/N: After a long period of writer's block, I'm trying to get back into it. I've been struggling a lot with writing, so any and all feedback is appreciated! I'll try to update this fic every monday, starting from June 20th.
I do not consent to my work being reposted, copied, or translated. You are responsible for your own media consumption. Do not interact with +18 warning chapters if you’re a minor. Reblogs and feedback are always appreciated!
Main masterlist // AO3
Chapter list
Chapter 1: Lost
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Message me if you would like to be added to the taglist. Minors will not be added.
People who helped me brainstorm this idea: @lunarbuck @breakablebarnes @watergator and @fluffyprettykitty​, thank you so much for letting me talk about this fic and helping me!
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