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lady-phasma · 7 days

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Зимний Солдат (Zimniy Soldát)

Part 1 of 2 (cross posted from AO3)

Warnings: 18+ MDNI; from my AO3 - "Bucky's metal arm kink"; mostly p n v sex, fluff, canon typical discussion of Bucky's past and violence, implied/referenced past noncon. Written in first person fem!reader.

Summary a/n: Some feels but mostly reader and Bucky are simmering at this point. (This is how old this fic is: Events take place after F&WS Episode 5 - I want to add some plot and character details but there are only 6 episodes so I’m waiting until we find out what episode 6 brings us.) No beta. 3k words.

“Like dancing, it’s been a while,” he smirked as he looked down at his gloved hands. A pained smirk. He ran his thumb across the knuckles of his left fist.

“I’m sure it has,” I said. I reached up and brushed my fingers along his jaw, coaxing him to look at me. “Dancing has changed a lot in 78 years, this hasn’t.” I smiled and his face softened. His shoulders relaxed a little.

Without speaking I took his hands in mine and started to slowly remove each glove. First his right hand, grazing his palm with my fingers, then his left. The vibranium was warm to the touch. He flexed his fingers as if taking off the glove reminded him that his arm was metal. I held my hand out, palm up, offering it to him. The warm metal folded around my hand.

“How much can you feel?” I asked him.

“Everything,” he said and made small circles with his thumb in my palm.

I stood up from the couch and let his hand fall to his lap. He looked up at me as I slid my hand into his jacket. I slowly started to remove it but he got the hint and shrugged out of it. I straddled him and surprised him by sitting on his lap. I gently pressed on his shoulders, getting him to lean back on the couch, relax a little. His chest heaved with a sigh. My hands rested lightly on his t-shirt clad shoulders. “Well maybe it has changed a little,” I grinned as I teased him.

“Yeah, I don’t remember it quite like this,” he smiled and winked at me.

“I hope that not all changes are bad,” I whispered as I leaned in to kiss him. My hair fell by my face and he reached up to tuck it behind my ear. He placed his palm on my cheek and kissed me back. I wanted to pace myself, not rush anything, but it was proving difficult. I wanted to feel his tongue, to part his lips with my own tongue, but I was really enjoying this 1940s kissing as well. I pulled back a little so I could look at him. His eyes were closed. I pressed my cheek into his hand.

He opened his eyes, seeming to wonder why we stopped kissing. When our eyes met I turned and kissed the palm of his hand. His hips twitched slightly underneath me. I put my hand on top of his and pressed my lips harder against the metal. I began to make my way down his palm and wrist to his forearm, weaving my fingers between his. I glanced up at him as he leaned his head back on the couch. I watched the rise and fall of his chest as I kissed his arm. I slid my free hand up his bicep to his shoulder, fingering the ridge at the connection of metal and skin briefly before resting it on his chest. His heart wasn’t racing but I could feel it beating. I closed my eyes, sighed warm breath against his vibranium, and kissed the inside of his elbow. I released his hand as I kissed his bicep and he placed his hand on the back of my neck.

“Damn,” he sighed. “Definitely not how it was in 1943.” He raised his head and smiled, blue eyes sparkling. He gently pulled me toward him and kissed me. His hand moved into my hair and pushed me harder against his lips. His tongue slipped past my lips and I opened up to let him in. I pressed my chest against his and breathed deeply into our kiss. Bucky moved his hips as if he were uncomfortable so I spread my legs a bit wider. I moaned, deep and quiet, when I felt him hard against me. I shifted my weight in his lap and he inhaled sharply and grabbed my ass with both hands. He raised up to kiss me and lift me off his lap in one motion. Before I knew what was happening I was sitting on the couch and we were no longer kissing.

“What? Is everything-““Yeah, yes,” he cut me off. “It’s… fine. I just need a breather. You know… just don’t want to end this too early.” He looked down at his hands.

“Okay,” I said. “Do you want to talk?”

“Sure.”

“I have wanted to ask you something for a while now,” I stammered as I looked at my own hands. “It’s strange but I was curious if you really had never, you know, in all those years…”

“Is that a question?” he asked but didn’t wait for me to answer. His voice got lower and his tone was immediately serious. “Um, yeah, a few times I guess. I remember every mission, every encounter, every command. So, consenting? Not in almost eight decades. As him at least a handful of times.” “I’m sorry,” I mumbled. “God that sounds so lame when I say it out loud, but I am very sorry.” I reached out for his hand. His skin felt cool when he took my hand in his. I slid closer to him so that our legs touched. I placed my hand on his thigh.

“Well, I’m only in a little bit of a hurry,” I winked. He smiled and leaned in to kiss me. He placed his hand on my shoulder and squeezed a little. I immediately noticed how much more intense that touch was. Not more forceful but there was no give, no softness, in that hand. I moaned a little into our kiss. He pulled back and looked at me. I couldn’t meet his eyes so I smoothed my hair behind my ear. I intertwined our fingers and pressed my shoulder into his other palm. I encouraged him in a feline manner, pushing against his hand. He understood. His hand slid down my arm, onto my breast. When he paused I inhaled deeply and forced my chest out. His hand tensed and relaxed. He started to make small circles over my nipple with his thumb. Feelings like electricity shot from where he touched me to my crotch, making me jump a little. I finally met his gaze and languidly smiled at him.

He untangled his hand from mine and placed it on the small of my back, guiding me with the slightest pressure. I followed and moved back into his lap, straddling him again. So many sensations all at once: his hand pressing harder against my breast, his dick hard against me, his hand sliding up my back under my shirt.

“Bucky,” I moaned. I leaned into him, breathing near his ear, pinning his arm between us. I ran my hands through his hair, down the back of his neck, and over his biceps. I nibbled at his ear and kissed his jaw. Slowly, his hand slid away from my breast, toward the top of my jeans. “Yes, please,” I encouraged.

He cursed under his breath a bit as he got closer and fumbled with my buttons. I straightened up long enough to help him then pushed my body against his. His vibranium was smooth and warm against my belly. His fingers brushed against me not teasing but taking his time. I wanted so badly to speed things up but I didn’t want to pressure him. This was on his time but my hips twitched involuntarily and he inhaled sharply. He seemed to hold his breath as he slipped one finger over my clit.

“You are so… wet,” he mumbled.

“I know,” I replied. “I want you that much.”

Almost timidly, he slid his finger further down, then inside me. I rocked my hips on his lap and kissed him, hard. He slipped a second finger in. I moved slowly with him inside me, watching him. I held his face in my hands. He seemed so relaxed, so peaceful. For the first time I saw the scowl fade away from his brow. He closed his eyes. His fingers curled slightly inside me while his other hand travelled down my back and onto my bare ass. My jeans needed to come off but I didn’t want to stop him. I groaned and ground my hips into his hand. The vibranium seemed to match my body temperature and where I expected to feel metal I felt only him. I kissed his forehead, his cheek, his neck, his shoulder and then… I was back there, my lips on his arm. The metal worked and flexed as he moved with me.

I couldn’t take it anymore and began to move to take off his shirt. He looked at me and picked up on the hint. Neither of us wanted him to move but both of us wanted more. More skin, more contact. I lifted his t-shirt up and he moved his hands out of my pants. Oddly, I noticed his his left armpit was also metal. The crazy things we think in these moments, my brain said to me I bet he saves money on deodorant. I felt myself smile. I dropped the shirt on the floor, ran a hand down his bare chest, around a nipple, and over his stomach. Wow. Super soldier indeed. I think he blushed at my touch. I gently lifted his dog tags and then let them clank back onto his chest.

“You still have dog tags, Sergeant?” I teased.

“Uh, yeah, actually,” he mumbled, looking down at them. “Steve gave them to me. I guess, after HYDRA got me, these got stashed somewhere. He never said where he found them but they’re mine from the war.” My eyes widened at the thought of what these tags had been through over 70 years. I ran my fingers over them, the chain, and up to his neck, barely touching as if they, and he, were fragile.

I slowly reached down to unbutton his jeans but he grabbed my hands and gently began to push me back. I stood up. Before he could start I slipped my shirt off and stood in my bra and jeans. He kissed me just above my belly button. Smoothed his hands up my back to unhook my bra. I shrugged it off. He pulled me to him. His face was hot against my nipples. The cool air in the room and feeling him on me made them hard. He kissed one then the other. With his face still close to me he pushed both hands into my jeans and panties and slid them down until I could step out of them.

I was normally too shy to be this naked, this vulnerable, standing in front of a man but James made me feel enough. I didn’t rush to hide my stretch marks or try to distract him from looking at me. I let him look. His eyes followed the curve of my hip as he trailed his hand down my thigh. His vibranium hand slid to my ass and squeezed. He smiled and pulled me closer, covering me with kisses. I sighed deeply and ran my hands through his hair. I wanted him so badly. Why was he still wearing pants?!

I bent down slowly and ran my hands down his sides. His smooth skin taught over strong muscles. I got my fingers just in the waistband of his jeans when he understood and leaned back. He unbuttoned them and raised his hips to let me pull them off. Taking both underwear and jeans off at once required some awkward movements but then there he was. Just as vulnerable as I was. The scars at his shoulder stood out in contrast against his lightly-tanned chest. I reached out and touched the edge of the vibranium just where it met his skin. He shivered.

I moved toward him but he shook his head. He gently guided me to lay down on the couch instead of sitting. I smiled. He slid to half-kneel between my legs and pulled my hips close to him. My small giggle surprised even me. He ran his hands down my thighs, placing my legs so I could wrap them around him. Then he leaned forward. His biceps quivered as he propped himself up on his hands, one on either side of my head. The black and gold vibranium catching the light in the room, his dog tags swaying between us. I could feel him watch me looking at his arm. He kissed my neck. The movement resembled a push-up and I couldn’t take my eyes off the flexing of his arm. He kissed my collarbone, my shoulder, my breasts, each kiss accompanied by that flex and release. I ran my hand along the vibranium tricep, feeling it move under my touch.

“Bucky,” I started.

“Mmmm?” was his reply.

“Do you, well, I don’t know how to ask really… Does it bother you?”

“Not at all,” he looked into my eyes. “It turns me on actually. I like that you like it. Instead of it being this weird, shiny elephant in the room. Hell, you could be disgusted by it I suppose. But, no, not bothered in the way you mean.” He grinned that half-grin and raised an eyebrow. “Plus, it’s not going anywhere.”

“Good, that you aren’t bothered, I mean” I looked away. “One more question… are you sure you want this, now I mean? It’s not too fast?” He replied with a deep kiss. He slid his hand under me, to the small of my back, leaving his vibranium arm by my head. Then, for the first time, I felt him hard against my naked skin. I groaned and bit my lip. He slid his dick over my clit and between my lips before tentatively sliding inside me. His face was a little scrunched with concentration and his eyes were closed. I took that as a cue not to move or take things beyond his pace. So I kissed his forearm. I moved a hand to his back and then to the curve of the top of his ass. I didn’t pull but pressed my fingertips enough to let him know he could keep going if he was ready.

I felt every inch of him move into me, so slowly I thought I would lose my mind. I was so used to fast fucking, little intimacy, and not near-virgin sex. I reminded myself that he wasn’t a virgin and I let out a deep breath. He opened his eyes and kissed me as he began to move, began to pull out and return, a steady pace. His hand on the small of my back moved to grip my hip and pull me toward him. Harder. I moaned. I lightly grazed my fingernails over his back. He shivered.

I squeezed him tighter between my thighs and felt him deep inside me. Tiny drops of sweat were starting to bead up on his forehead. He was concentrating so hard. I buried my face in his neck; kissed and nibbled my way to his shoulder. I wanted to try something but I wasn’t sure if it was appropriate. I tried to think of a way I could ask. It was selfish, of course it was, but I was going to cum soon. If I were going to ask it needed to be while I could still make a coherent sentence. His hips rocked between us and the feeling of his entire body against mine was the incentive I needed.

“James?” I whispered close to his ear. I moved my face directly in front of his and placed my hand on his cheek.

“Hmm?” He slowed and looked into my eyes.

“Um… would it… would you like me to say it? To call you that?” I didn’t take my eyes from his. I didn’t know of a better way to ask without just being direct.

His eyes widened for a fraction of a second when he understood. He blushed. He stared at me and nodded. Then he tucked my hair behind my ear with his vibranium hand and leaned down to kiss me. As he did, I arched my back to meet him, our bodies pressed firmly together. We kissed for a long moment.

He pulled back, took his hand from behind me, and propped himself on both hands again. I loved this safe space, this intimate place between his arms. I could barely see anything but him. I caressed his back and shoulders and kissed his vibranium. He increased his pace every time I did that. I felt my muscles start to tense and the heat build from our connection. I couldn’t catch my breath. As I came I put my lips near his ear, moaned as the orgasm rushed over me, and said:

“Zimniy Soldát”

He drove hard into me and his breath became shallow. I put my hands on his neck and the back of his head, making soothing noises in his ear.

“It’s okay,” I told him. “You are safe. I want you to cum because you want to. I want to feel you do that. I want you, Zimniy Soldát, all of you.”

He let out a sound, somewhere between a cry and a moan, and bit his bottom lip. He dropped his face into the crook of my neck and fucked me as the waves of pleasure shook his scared, beautiful body. He dropped to his elbows and pulled me into a fierce hug, fucking me deeper. I groaned so loud neighbors could have heard me. Something warm was on my shoulder and I wondered if he had shed a few tears. Before I could even think to turn his face toward me to sooth him, he moaned and froze. He whispered my name. All of his muscles seemed to tense at once and I felt him twitch inside me, the last of his cum spilling into me. I didn’t want to move, to make him feel like he should move yet. I turned my head slightly and kissed his jaw. His vibranium hand slid up my back and he curled his fingers in my hair, tugged just a bit.

He raised up and kissed my neck, my jaw, and then looked down at me. He brushed his lips against mine. I tensed around him and he groaned into our kiss. Our breaths mingled together. He slowly pulled out of me. It was my turn to groan. I moved my legs so he could sit up. Instead, he moved one of them and laid down behind me on the couch. He pulled me to him, the full length of our bodies pressed together. He ran his hand down my side, my hip, up my belly, and over my breasts. I listened to the slight mechanical whirring with every movement. He tucked my hair behind my ear, then gently kissed my neck.

Part 2

#winter soldier #bucky x reader #bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #winter solider x reader #marvel fanfiction #falcon and the winter soldier #probably need more tags #tw noncon mention #bucky barnes smut #bucky barnes fanfiction

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hoppers-babygirl · 5 months

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Saw your post requests tonight, could you do something Bucky Barnes X reader? With readers family being extremely nosy on Thanksgiving? You know the usual questions, for example: when/how did you meet? when will you get married/engaged? when you having kids? Are you living together?

Thankful

Author: hoppers-babygirl

Word count: 1976ish

A/N: Hope you enjoy this! Graphics by @firefly-graphics

The trip to your parent’s place was filled with laughs, kisses and a few rest stops. It was the first time Bucky was going to meet your family since you started dating and being scared was one of the many emotions you felt. Not because your family wouldn’t like him but just because you knew how overbearing your family could be during the holidays but Bucky insisted that he could handle it so that's how you found yourselves driving to upstate New York, to your parents place.

Soft lips pressed a kiss to the back of your hand which snapped you from your thoughts and you smiled over at Bucky. “It’ll be fine, Doll. I promise I can handle it.” He said.

“I know I just don’t want you to get overwhelmed or trapped around all these loud nosy people.” You chuckle softly, moving your hand to caress his cheek as he drives, which he appreciated.

“Baby.. Do you happen to forget that we work for the avengers? Have you been in a room with any of them at all?” He laughed and gave your hand a reassuring squeeze.

“Okay- that is true! But these are people you’re meeting for the first time.” You counter.

His brow quirks, “Do you forget that everyone was a stranger to me at one point including you? I think I can handle being around a roomful of strangers for a couple hours, plus they’re your family. It's important to meet them, especially since I love you so much.” He grins at you before the navigator told him the destination was close.

After a few moments the car was parked and Bucky had rounded the front to open your door. Getting out you grabbed the cupcakes you made just so you didn’t show up empty handed before walking up to the front door of your childhood home. Bucky politely knocked before his arm snaked around your waist keeping you close, today he opted to wear a long sleeve and his usual leather glove long with his leather jacket, your parents knew who he was and you understood his hesitation but you reassured him that your family would be considerate given his past.

A second passes and your mom answers the door, she greets you both with a big smile and moves out the entryway for you to step inside. Bucky takes the cupcakes from your hands so you and your parents can share a hug as well as take your jacket off to hang it up.

Shyly he shifts his weight from foot to foot until you turn your attention to him with a bright smile. “Mom, Dad, this is my boyfriend Bucky that I’ve been telling you about?” You nod softly before you take the cupcakes and walk them into the kitchen leaving Bucky to say his hellos with your parents.

He looks a bit nervous but you give him a smile to help sooth him which it does, he gives your mom a quick hug and gives your dad a handshake before they go back into the kitchen.

Your mom checks on the turkey as your younger sister comes in and gives you a hug, while everyone’s attention is occupied, Bucky decides to slip off his jacket as well as his gloves. “He really is cute.” He smiled at your sister's whisper, not sure if anyone knew he had enhanced hearing so he kept his pride to himself.

Instead he walked over and greeted your little sister. “Doll here’s told me lots about you. It’s nice to finally meet you, I do hope you’re enjoying your break from college.” He said, your sister smiled up at him.

“I am, thank you. But now I’m worried about the things you’ve heard.” She laughs.

“All good things, I promise.” He chuckled, a man came down the stairs followed by a woman who held a young boy in her arms. The man looked more like you causing Bucky to assume that was your older brother.

“Hey man it’s nice to finally meet you.” Your brother gives Bucky a smile and one of those weird manly handshakes with a shoulder pat which makes you giggle softly under your breath.

“It’s nice to meet you too, all of you, really.” Bucky nodded and looked around the room.

The woman holding the small child greets you both quietly before she goes over to the fridge to grab a juice box for the little one in her arms.

Your dad moves into the living room along with your brother while your sister in law sits at the kitchen table with her son. He’s happily babbling, not caring much for everything that was happening around him besides the fact that soon enough he too would be enjoying a yummy dinner.

Your sister grabbed a cupcake and took a bite before she spoke, “So how did you and my sister meet?”

You sit down and babble quietly with your nephew while Bucky answers your sister. “We met at work actually, since she works with the CEO of Stark Industries and I work with the husband of the CEO of Stark Industries, we were bound to run into one another which we did often.” He flashed you a soft smile as you helped occupy your nephew.

The sight made his heart clench but he turned his attention to your mother who now spoke up.

“You two have been going out some time now, things must be serious huh?” Teasingly she waggled her brows at Bucky which made him chuckle.

“I’d like to say they’re pretty serious. I really do love your daughter and I do my best to make her happy.” He replied.

His answer makes you smile. “We moved in together a couple months ago to our own place near Stark tower.” You speak up. Bucky moves to sit beside you at the table and rests his arm on the back of your chair, a football game plays in the background as you hear your father and brother mumbling things to the television.

Your nephew takes note of Bucky and tries to reach out to him which makes the dark haired man chuckle softly. He coos at the little one and lets his small fingers run along his cool metal hand which makes the boy let out a soft squeak.

Your sister in law speaks up, “So Bucky do you have any nieces and nephews? You seem like a natural when it comes to kids.”

He nodded. “Mmhm I do, my little sister Rebecca had children. Although I never got to meet them because of my circumstances, I am happy to hear she had quite the life.”

The woman nodded and gently bounced the little one in her arms.

“You two ever think about having kids?” Your mom asked from across the room, her hands busy peeling potatoes.

The question made your cheeks warm up. “Mother, we just moved in together, not that long ago.”

“So? Doesn’t mean you two can’t think about your future together. I’m assuming you see a future together right?” She aims this question at Bucky who nods without missing a beat.

You can’t help the excited butterflies that fill your belly. “We haven’t even spoken about it much, once we do then we’ll let you know our plan.” You reply with a laugh, brushing your mother off.

“Don’t worry, I’ll let you know the plan.” He teases, speaking to your mom.

She nodded and finished up peeling the potatoes before she set them on the stove. Dinner was almost ready which helped you relax a bit, so far things weren’t as bad as they could’ve been but you still have nerves bubbling into your chest as everyone spoke.

Bucky could sense your nerves and he rubbed your back soothingly, eventually your sister in law took your nephew into the living room and joined your brother on the couch. The sight of the three cuddling up together to watch the football game made you indulge in a daydream with Bucky that you rarely allowed yourself.

It was of you both laughing and enjoying family dinners such as this one but instead of showing up with cupcakes you show up with a little girl of your own. A cousin your nephew could get to know once they’re both older.

You didn’t realize you were that spaced out until Bucky gave your shoulder a little shake, leaning in he whispered, “You okay baby?” Pulling back he looked at your features.

You nod and get up from your seat and you grab a bottle of water for yourself trying to distract yourself from the sweet little daydream. Taking a drink or two from the bottle you sat back down beside Bucky to which his arm curled around your shoulders once again, he gave your cheek a quick kiss which made you smile.

Your mom asked your little sister to set the dining room table which she did, meanwhile the door rang once again, you had an older sister but she had a family of her own which you assumed she’d be staying with her husbands family as they were closer but soon enough your niece came rushing in to give your mother a big hug. A toothy grin on her lips as she flung herself into your moms arms.

Your older sister and her husband came in moments later, she was sporting a small baby bump which made tears spring to your mothers eyes. Everyone chimed in and said congratulations, Bucky held you a bit closer as it grew a little louder in the home thanks to the surprise.

“Why don’t we take a step outside?” You whisper against his shoulder, looking up at him with soft eyes.

He nodded and got up to grab his coat for you. “I’ll meet you out there once you’re done?” He asked.

“Yeah baby, I’ll just be a moment or two.” With that he politely excuses himself for a breath of fresh air while you greet your sister and her family.

Just as you promised, a few moments later you meet Bucky outside on your family's porch and he drapes his jacket over your shoulders. “Are you doing okay so far?” You ask.

He nodded and wrapped his arm around your waist. “I’m okay, I just needed a moment alone with you.” His chest is to your back, his lips press a few butterfly kisses to your neck.

You hum softly in appreciation and the two of you have a few stolen kisses shared together before your little sister comes out to tell you and Bucky that dinner was ready. A faint blush crept up his neck at the interruption, giving your sister a sheepish smile. He kissed your cheek once more before holding the door open for you to head back inside.

Your family is gathered at the beautifully set dining table, your niece happily babbling about some children's show to your brother while your mom's passing around the mashed potatoes, you feel a hand rest upon your knee and smile up at Bucky as you recognize his touch. Your heart flutters at his smile, he genuinely looked happy.

Leaning in, you whisper to him, “I love you.” His blue eyes grow wide for a second but his smile stays plastered to his lips.

“I love you too, Doll. You’re what I’m most thankful for this year.” He says before he presses a kiss to your lips.

“Happy Thanksgiving, Bucky.” You reply. “Maybe next year I’ll be hosting dinner with a ring?” You tease with a soft laugh, earning a playful pinch to your side.

The rest of your evening you spend laughing, chatting and eating dinner with your family. You knew this is exactly how you wanted to spend your holidays, with your family and with the man you loved most.

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes marvel #marvel imagine #marvel fluff #mcu fluff #bucky barnes fluff #bucky barnes x you #no use of y/n #rebecca barnes #slight angst #thanksgiving mention

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anotherfuckingmarvelfanaccount · 9 months

Text

Uh, Guys?

My Masterlist

Pairing(s): Bucky Barnes x Fem!Reader, Natasha Romanoff x Fem!Reader, Bucky Barnes x Natasha Romanoff, Bucky Barnes x Natasha Romanoff x Fem!Reader

Warnings: There Was Only One Bed, no smut (i know, rare for me these days), idiots in love. bi!reader, bc both bucky and natasha are hot and i’m so fucking gay. implied bi!natasha bc she also likes bucky. mentions of guns, shooting, blood, and medical supplies. nervous!reader. best friends to lovers x2. it’s just pretty fluffy

Word Count: 2417

Summary: You get put on a mission with both the infamous Winter Soldier and Black Widow to take down a Hydra base. You get shot and the extraction plan goes haywire but Tony knows a safe house. The only issue? There’s only one bed and you have a massive crush on both assassins.

“Okay, HYDRA missions are officially the worst.” You said into your comms, running through the halls, away from gunfire, towards the computer terminal. You threw the door closed behind you and quickly looked around for any agents or doors that could be used to attack you. Seeing that you were leaning against the only door, you grabbed a chair and shoved it under the doorknob.

“Are you okay, Y/N?” Natasha asked through the comms.

You nodded before remembering she couldn’t see you. “Ah, yea-um, maybe.” You said, plugging the USB in. “I’m in the room with the computer, but I’m pretty sure I got shot.”

“I’m on my way to you, Y/N.” Bucky said, jogging towards where he knew the terminal was.

“Don’t bother, I shoved a chair under the door so nobody can get in and I’m not moving it just for you to carry me out of here. I’m fine, I’m still standing, and- oh, okay, I’m bleeding more than I thought, but I’m fine.” You replied, downloading all of the files on the computer for Tony and FRIDAY to sort through later.

Bucky sighed audibly through the door, “Really, N/N? Let me in please, just so you don’t accidentally bleed out alone?”

You checked the files to make sure they were downloading properly and moved the chair enough so you could open the door to make sure Bucky wasn’t being impersonated by a HYDRA agent. “What’s the password?” You asked, knowing that everyone on the team had a secret password with the other in case of something like this.

Bucky chuckled, rolling his eyes and leaning in the doorway slightly. “Monopoly.” You sighed dramatically and moved the chair out of the way, letting Bucky in. “You didn’t believe it was truly me?” He asked, dramatically offended.

“Buck, with the way technology is these days, they could probably clone you. Hell, the clone could know the code word and you’re not actually here with me, it’s an agent that’s gonna kill me.” You sat back down, continuously downloading their files and deleting them off the computer once you had them.

“Well, doll, you know that’s not it.” He said, leaning in the doorway to be able to watch you and the hallway.

You chuckled, watching the last of the files download. “Yeah, I know, but it could be.”

Bucky watched drops of blood continuously drip onto the floor. “Are you sure you’re okay? You look like you’re bleeding a lot.”

“I’m fine, Buck. This is not the first time I’ve been shot. It’s not important.” You said, pulling the USB out and turning to him.

“Where is it?” He asked, raising an eyebrow.

“My bicep is going to be fine.” You replied calmly, walking out of the room and jogging back towards where the three of you landed after parachuting out of the quinjet.

“Did you just try to convince me that your arm wasn’t important?!” Bucky shouted after you, jogging to catch up, the both of you running out of the building and to Natasha.

She raised an eyebrow at you and Bucky, motioning around to the empty clearing. “First of all, your arm is extremely important. Secondly, apparently, they booked more missions than extractions, so we have no way of getting home for the immediate future. Third, Tony has a safe house about 3 miles northeast of here, and he sent me the coordinates. Apparently we’re stuck together until at least morning.”

Bucky nodded at Natasha’s words and started walking northeast, you and Natasha following behind. You quickly fell into a rhythm of just following their footsteps as you got lost in your own head. It wasn’t that you were scared of Natasha or Bucky, not at all. You and Nat had been best friends for years, and Bucky was one of the only other people you would go to when you were feeling out of it. Your current issue was that you had feelings for them both, which had ruined your last relationship, since your ex-girlfriend figured out that she was not your priority. Cradling your arm to your chest, Natasha and Bucky finally realized you weren’t contributing to the conversation and turned to look at you.

“N/N?” Bucky asked softly, snapping you out of your trance. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah.” You said, sighing. “This just hurts a little more than I thought. How much further do you think it is?”

Nat smiled, laughing at you a little. “Darling, it’s been 10 minutes. We have a while to go.”

“It’s not still bleeding, is it?” Bucky asked again.

“No, the bullet lodged in my shoulder, so it’s not bleeding. Let’s just go, please? I’d really like to sit down.” You replied, walking past them in the direction you had all started in.

Natasha and Bucky gave each other a look before Bucky jogged over to you, picked you up bridal style, and kept jogging. Nat was jogging after the two of you, figuring that Bucky would want to get you to the safe house, stitched up and bulletless as soon as possible before your injury got any worse.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Twenty minutes of light jogging and your complaining that you could walk perfectly fine and Bucky didn’t need to carry you anywhere passed the time quickly, and before you knew it, the three of you were standing on the porch of the safe house. Natasha opened the door and allowed Bucky to take you inside.

“Uh, guys? I may be hallucinating from blood loss, but there’s only one bed.” You said, tapping Bucky on the shoulder.

Natasha and Bucky shared a look, Bucky setting you down on the bed. “Tony did this on purpose.” She said, sitting next to you. “You know we’re gonna have to take your tac suit off to dress the wound, right?”

“Yeah, I know.” You said, wincing.

“Are you okay?” Bucky asked, cradling your arm as he slid it out of your sleeve.

“I’m just in a bit of pain, and I’m not wearing a shirt underneath this.” Bucky’s eyes widened. “It’s comfier without the shirt and the fabric crinkles weirdly, but I’m wearing a bra.” You reassured him. “You aren’t gonna see everything, Buck.”

“I’ll still feel better if Nat does it.” He said, shifting his weight between his feet.

Nat glanced between the two of you. “I can’t do that. I can’t stitch wounds, Buck. It has to be you, especially because that’s Y/N’s dominant arm.”

“Yeah, I can’t pull the bullet out and stitch my own wound shut this time, unfortunately.” You said, shrugging with your unwounded arm. “But if it would make you feel better, Nat can help me out of my suit. I’m wearing a pair of shorts and I’m sure that there’s an extra shirt around here somewhere that I can wear.”

“I can absolutely help you out of your suit, honey.” Nat said, reaching for the zipper.

Bucky averted his eyes, blushing, as Nat helped you out of the mission-necessary tactical suit. “I’m gonna go find the medical kit I know Tony must have in here, shout when you’re ready for me.”

“Okay, Buck. Sure.” You said softly, wincing as your shot arm came out of the sleeve.

“Don’t mind his nervousness.” Nat said, moving towards the other shoulder. “He hasn’t really been with anyone since waking up from HYDRA and getting the trigger words taken out of his head. And I know he likes you, so that doesn’t probably make things better.”

Your eyes widened. “Bucky likes me?”

Natasha nodded quickly, “He’s not the only one. Do you have feelings for anyone?”

“I- um, yes? I just don’t want to say anything.” You said, averting your eyes from where Natasha was sliding your tac suit down your body.

“Why’s that?” She asked.

“I have feelings for more than one person. And I’m friends with them both and they’re friends.” You blurted out, feeling her hands skim over the band of your bra.

She nodded in response, slipping a finger in the band. “This is cute. Where’d you get it?”

“Ardene, you’d like it. I get a lot of stuff from there.” You breathed a sigh of relief that she was going to let this topic slide.

“Do I know either of them?” She asked, sliding your suit down further.

You nodded. “Both of them. Quite close, actually.”

“Am I?” You shivered slightly as you felt her breath ghost over your stomach. “You know it’s okay to talk about feelings, honey.” You hummed in agreement, mulling over in your head whether or not to tell her. “Buck or I won’t judge you.” Nat pulled your suit off and ran her hands up and down your calves a few times in a soothing motion.

Bucky popped his head back into the room. “What aren’t we judging?”

“Y/N has a crush on two people she’s friends with, they’re friends, and I’m apparently quite close to both of them.” Nat explained, keeping eye contact with you and slightly raising one eyebrow to make sure she got the facts right. You nodded once, sharply, fighting the urge to crawl under the covers and curl in on yourself.

“Oh, baby doll.” Bucky said, coming to sit next to you on the bed. “You know you can tell us anything.” He wrapped an arm around you and you burrowed your face into his chest. “Oh shit, this is something you’re really nervous about, isn’t it, doll?”

You nodded, knowing now you were going to have to tell both of them the truth. “I like you.” You said softly, knowing Bucky’s super-soldier hearing would pick it up.

“You like me, baby doll?” He asked, rubbing your back as Nat came to sit on your other side. You nodded again, attempting to burrow further into his chest. “Hey, that’s okay, sweet pea. I like you too.”

“Nat told me that.” You said softly, feeling the glare from your best friend burn into your back.

“Who’s the other one, N/N?” She asked sharply.

“You.” You said into Bucky’s chest, knowing he pointed at Nat when he heard you say it.

“Me?” Nat asked, surprised.

You nodded, pulling your head out of Bucky’s chest, but not willing to meet either of their eyes. “Of course it’s you guys. It’s always been the two of you there for me.” You paused, letting them mull over what you just said. “It’s why Meg and I split.”

Bucky turned you to face him so he could start pulling the bullet out of your shoulder. “How so, baby doll?” Nat rested her chin on your other shoulder, holding out a hand for you to squeeze.

“Well, she didn’t like the fact that I was constantly on missions, which is literally my job, so that didn’t help matters. But the other thing is that she said I looked at you guys differently than her, treated the two of you better.” You said, looking down and squeezing Nat’s hand.

Nat rubbed your back, knowing that if you hadn’t told the two of them this, you hadn’t told anyone. “She broke up with you because she could tell you liked us?”

You nodded. “She said that if she wasn’t my first priority then we weren’t meant to be. And work is always my priority.”

“But then it’s us?” Bucky asked softly, stopping the bleeding of the removal from the bullet before he stitched you shut again.

“Yeah.” You said softly. “She didn’t like that much.”

Bucky stitched you up, and as he had changed out of his suit while finding the medical kit, pulled his shirt off for you to wear. “Here, sweetheart. You’re all stitched up.”

“Oh, thank you, Buck.” You said, putting on his shirt, the nickname and his scent lighting your insides on fire. You sighed softly, curling up under the covers and rolling away from both of them, not knowing what to say to your two closest friends now that you had spilled your heart to them and they didn’t say anything.

Nat knelt next to you on the bed, gently placing a hand on your busted shoulder. “N/N, please don’t pout. Buck and I have talked, because we both like each other, and you. We want to try to make this work.”

Bucky knelt on the floor, cupping your face in his hands. “We don’t have to move quickly, baby doll, we just wanna be with you, if that’s something you’d be okay with.”

“Yeah.” You said softly. “I’d be okay with that. But how does something like this even work?”

“Baby, this is like any relationship, we’ll figure it out as we go. Communication and comprehension is key. And we’re pretty good at that.” Nat said, gently rolling you onto your back. “So why don’t we just start with cuddles? And we can go from there later.”

You nodded, moving over to the middle of the bed so they could both crawl in with you. “Is this okay? Or did you guys want to be closer to each other?”

“This is perfect, baby doll.” Bucky said, reaching across you to throw his arm over both you and Nat.

“Yeah, perfect.” Nat said, snuggling further into your side.

“Yeah, this is everything I’ve ever wanted.” You said, leaning your head against Nat’s while curling further into Bucky.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Quick take a picture!” You heard somebody exclaim to wake you up. You were still very disoriented, having just woken up and you hadn’t even blinked your eyes open when light flashed behind them.

“What the fuck is that?” Nat mumbled into your shoulder, eyes closed still.

“I dunno.” You mumbled, wrapping an extra arm around her. “Don’ really care either.”

Bucky pulled you both closer. “It’s Sam and Steve here to pick us up.”

“But ‘m comfy ‘n sleepy.” You mumbled into Nat’s hair.

“I know you are, baby doll.” He said, beginning to untangle himself from the cuddle pile the three of you were in. “How about we all go for a nap back at the compound after we let your bullet wound actually get checked out?” Once untangled, Bucky picked you up in one arm and Nat in the other to carry you back onto the quinjet.

You nuzzled into his shoulder. “That sounds good.”

“So how did this all happen, punk?” Steve asked, taking you carefully from Bucky so neither you or Nat were dropped.

Bucky glanced between you and Nat fondly. “We’re all idiots.”

Taglist: @chrisevansdaughter, @buckybarnesandmarvel, @sarahrogersevans, @nana1000night

Let me know if you want to be added or removed!

Yall I am so sorry that it’s been so long since I posted, but this is finished now and I hope you like it. I hope to get a lot more fics out by the end of August bc then I’ll be moving and starting at a new school and it’s gonna be a whole thing.

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jen-with-a-pen · 9 months

Note

Alice idk what the FUCK kinda drugs you smuggled into this simple, singular ask, but goddamnit it made me sprint to my docs and start writing for the first time in God knows when. I literally have created an au in a matter of hours of seeing this. Fuck you and thank you🫣😋😈

[this is currently an untitled au and a WIP]

Photographer!Dark!Bucky Barnes x RunwayFashionModel!Reader

The overhead spotlights drop the second the showrunner points to the cameras, who, in turn, point to you. Big white bounce cards blind your peripherals and the sound of murmurs throughout the studio, executives and assistants alike, work their way into your ears. The voices swirl into one drone of static and the lights start getting brighter and brighter. Your grip on the arms of the chair grows tighter. Manicured fingernails threaten to dig into the upholstery, the gaudy necklace resting on your chest beginning to brand into your skin. The makeup caked onto your flesh feels like it’s melting, taking your dermis with it.

You can't tear your eyes away from behind the host's head, staring off into space and trying not to focus on the bile beginning to bubble in your pitted stomach.

You knew you should've eaten something.

As the host waits for her after-ad-break cue, shuffling her question cards and sipping coffee from her custom show-branded cup, you feel restless. Legs bouncing out of sync, begging to get up, to run off set and out onto the bustling streets below and never look back. Maybe a bus or cab will make it end, make it stop. You were never cut out for this, never supposed to be here.

"Bunny."

You gasp, your trance broken as the deep bass sounding out your nickname cuts through the noise. It's like oxygen for you. He is oxygen for you. You can’t escape him willingly- he’ll only find a way to be there. To always be there.

You whip your head around to face the herd of people and producers staring at you. Out of all of them, through the blinding lights, you meet his gaze. All six feet four inches, built-like-a-god, broad shoulders of him. His eyes shine like sea glass behind the camera operator, baby blue and looking only at you. For that moment, you are the only one he sees. His target. His. You are the only one he can touch, who he can feel, halfway across the room.

The pit only grows larger, filling your hunger with nausea. You'd bet all the money in the world he schmoozed some P.A. just to make sure he was there to see you. To surveil you.

You wish you were playing in traffic.

#jen writes #ask #answer #snippet #preview #UGHHHHHH #alice #flordeamatista #bless and curse you darling #prompt ask #i miss him sm #trying to channel the devil wears prada and the neon demon and black swan and other shit into this #did i mention i have a playlist already?#dark!bucky barnes #dark!bucky x reader #dark!bucky x you #fashionmodel!reader

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buckgasms · 9 months

Note

Hiii!! Idk if you still do request for daddy!bucky and Princess,but I was hoping if you could write something about Princess having trouble eating ???

I have a eating disorder where I don’t eat enough meals ,i perfer eating snacks or sometimes kids portions size food,whenever I eat big portions/adults size I would vomit.Yesterday was my first time in years I clean my big portions meal without vomiting!!!

Now I was hoping princess likes to eat /order kids meals/size bu one day she wants to eat just like her daddy.Big food,adults food. “Little girl to big girl size portions. And when she clean her plate,Bucky was so happy. loads of fluff and maybe some smut at the end !!

Mwah love your work on daddy!Bucky and Princess

Hi my love!

First off, congratulations on your achievement, that's really wonderful and I'm so proud of you!!! I can only imagine what hard work you must have done and I hope you take some time to acknowledge yourself 🩷

I am not so well versed in this kind of thing to write it in depth, but I can certainly imagine with you what that might be like for Princess and Bucky! But if it might trigger any discomfort to any of you please avoid and take care of your mind and bodies 💛

Also I have tagged things but let me know if I have missed anything!

So....

Bucky is so proud of you. He sees how much you try and he wants you to do things that are good for you, whatever form that might take. His main goal is to help you see your value and worth, so this sort of achievement would make him so happy.

Obviously he loves taking care of you himself so even if it's hard for his princess he will always be there to support you, even if you struggle some days! That's what he's there for!

When you order the big meal he is quietly surprised and does a double check with you, making sure you know the size. But today you want it! It's his favourite meal, and he always goes on about how delicious it is, and you just neeeed to try it.

The actual meal passes slowly, because you both always take ages in restaurants due to how much you talk to each other and flirt but all of a sudden you've cleared your plate and it's just done.

You can't help but giggle at what you've managed and he just beams because he's so proud that you did something that's hard for you and he got to witness it.

"Did you like your dinner Princess?" He leans in and presses a kiss to your cheek, hand slipping into yours and you nod, distracted by how good he smells and the goosebumps he creates with his lips skimming over your neck.

He gets the bill and you walk home, hand in hand, stopping every so often to kiss him, or point out something pretty in the shop window. He promises to buy everything you like in every window in Manhattan which makes you laugh, knowing he actually would do that if you wanted him to.

You best believe he spoils you all night long, praising kink overload and kissing you all over until you are a shivery wreck of a person, floating on cloud nine.

#tw: ed #tw: eating mention #bucky barnes #bucky x reader #princess!reader #daddy!bucky #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky imagine #darling nonnie

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high-functioning-lokipath · 1 year

Note

You said maybe but I'm definitely asking. Sam saving Bucky. All the feels, all the closure and pent up pain they've both held, IM HERE FOR IT AND FOR YOU TO MAKE MAGIC OUT OF THIS

A/N: This is going to have a Y/N reader character but she will not be the main focus. The main focus here is Bucky healing from…well…everything LOL PLEASE KEEP IN MIND...I did not write this as a Sambucky ship fic. I respect the ship but it's just not what is intended here. Thank you. Also, I added in a Loki & Thor quote because it fits all too perfectly 🤣🤣 There’s also an A/N at the end bc saying it here might spoil it LOL @buckyalpine I cannot thank you enough for requesting this! It was super fun to write and I hope you love it!!!!

“Alright, listen up,” Sam says loudly, tossing a file on the conference room table. Bucky groans loudly and Y/N elbows him.

“You’re the one who wanted to keep doing missions,” She reminds him. Bucky nods reluctantly and sits up to pay attention.

“We were informed of activity at an old Hydra base. We don’t know if it’s remnants of the original group or a new group but either way-”

“We need to shut them down,” Y/N speaks up. Sam nods and brings up the map.

“There is a problem though.” Bucky audibly swallows at seeing it. Y/N takes his hand but he pulls away and sits back again.

“So whats the plan?” Sam clears his throat and sighs.

“Well that’s the problem. We’re actually going to be intercepting a few of them who we think are the brains of the operation.”

“And, um, where are we intercepting them at?”

“Right here.” Sam zooms in to a mountain side above an old rail line. Y/N gulps, glancing over at her boyfriend. “Now, Y/N and I can do this alone. But-”

“No.” Bucky stands up, his arm whirring as he opens and closes his fist. “She cannot go. I won’t let her.”

“Buck, I understand you don’t want her there. But I can’t do it alone.”

“Who said you’d be alone?” Bucky walks out.

“Y/N-”

“It’s okay, Sam. Let him go with you. He needs it.”

“I’ll take care of him. I promise.”

By the next morning, the two are on their way, Y/N staying back at Bucky’s orders. “Are you sure about this, Bucky?” Sam asks for the millionth time. Bucky nods in reply, not saying a word. The two land on the mountainside and Bucky lets out a dry chuckle, finally breaking his silence.

"At least I know it's not payback for the Cyclone," He smiles, hiding his nervousness. Sam pats his shoulder and sighs.

"No, it's payback for the pimp suit in Madripoor." The two chuckle for a moment before Sam gets an alert from Redwing. "They're here." He opens his wings, grabbing Bucky by the special harness they've made for missions for an easy entrance and getaway.

"I hate this," Bucky grumbles before takeoff, looking very much like a grumpy cat.

"Come on. You love it," Sam replies with a smirk.

"I hate it."

"It's great. It works every time."

"It's humiliating."

"Do you have a better plan?"

"No."

"We're doing it." Sam takes off, carrying Bucky. The two land on the train and climb inside. "Do you always duck face into missions?" Sam whispers as they enter the train.

"I'm concentrating which, may I remind you, is critical to the mission."

"No need to bark at me, White Wolf." Bucky rolls his eyes and doesn't reply. The two try to advance to the front when suddenly two groups of soldiers close in on them from either end of the train car.

Sam throws the shield, knocking out a few of them, and it bounces back towards Bucky. He catches it, shoots at others closing in on them, and then throws it back to Sam.

Their little dance continues for some time before all the soldiers are incapacitated. As Sam and Bucky proceed, there's the sound of something powering up behind them. One of the soldiers wasn't completely knocked out. "Bucky! Watch out!" Sam yells. But it's too late, a powerful blast shakes the car, blowing out an entire side. Sam was protected by the shield, but Bucky is nowhere to be seen. Then Sam sees a speck of gold and black. "I've got you!" He yells, running over to Bucky who was hanging onto the side of the train over the edge. Sam grabs his arm, smiling. "I got you, man!" The train hits a bump and both are thrown out.

Bucky’s bloodcurdling scream pierces the air. “You’re not dying today,” Sam says under his breath. He activates his wings, swooping around under Bucky, catching him midair and pulling up just before they hit the ground. “See? I told you I got you!”

“You- I- We-” Bucky gasps, holding onto Sam for dear life.

“Don’t start cryin’ on me. Those tears are gonna freeze to this suit and you know how much I love it,” Sam teases. Bucky laughs loudly, shock setting in and sending his emotions haywire.

Sam flies them to the safehouse they’d established, landing in the yard. He sets Bucky down and turns to walk up to the house. “Sam?”

“Yeah, Bucky?”

“I-” Tears start rolling down Bucky’s cheeks and Sam pulls him into a hug. Bucky immediately returns it, sobbing softly. “Thank you! Thank you, Sam!”

“You’re welcome, Bucky. I-”

“Buck. You definitely can call me Buck now.” Sam can’t find the words to reply, tearing up a bit himself. The two eventually go inside and settle in for the night. Sam starts some dinner while Bucky lights the fire. As he works, Bucky has to keep adjusting his arm, opening and closing his fist repeatedly.

“You might want to call your girl,” Sam suggests, tossing Bucky his phone. “Let her know we’ll be home tomorrow.”

“But we-”

“We need to go home. It’s clear that catching guys on trains just isn’t the way to do things,” He smiles and Bucky chuckles in reply.

“Yeah, yeah I guess so.” Bucky gets up, resetting his arm and walks over to the kitchen, leaning on the counter across Sam. “I-um, thank you. I really can’t express it enough.” Sam sets aside what he’s working on, turning the stove down to pay attention. “It was like everything was happening again. All I could see was Steve looking down at me, the cold was nearly unbearable at that moment. I felt it, you know. I could feel my arm again for a moment. And the pain. It still hurts," he admits.

“Buck, I’m so sorry. I shouldn’t have brought you here.”

“No, it wasn’t your fault. I wanted to come. Part of me wanted to prove that I could do it.”

“We could have. You could have. I know that. But unfortunately we went in before we were fully prepared.” Sam sighs and pats Bucky’s shoulder. “We’ll be better prepared next time we try to catch them. But we won’t try the train again. I should have thought about it more. I’m sorry.”

“No. I-I’m glad.” Sam looks at Bucky in complete surprise. “You, well, you saved me. You helped me. You were there for me. I didn’t die. I didn’t lose my arm. Or my other arm. I wasn’t taken and brainwashed. I’m okay. I’m really okay!” Bucky laughs loudly, through tears streaming down his face. “I’m okay! For the first time in decades I’m okay!”

"Come here, man," Sam says, walking around the counter to Bucky. He pulls him into his arms again, hugging him tightly. "We're brothers now. I'm not gonna let you go. You got that?"

"Got it. You're with me till the end of the line," Bucky jokes, abit sadly.

"I'm afraid the end of the line has come and gone. But I'm still here. I'm with you till the end of forever and then some."

"End of forever. I like that."

When they get back to the tower, Bucky doesn't tell Y/N everything right away, but she can tell. Bucky and Sam now go on morning runs every day together. Their laughter fills whatever room they're in. Bucky smiles. A lot. She can tell he's truly happy once more. A side of him that had been taken away decades ago. Who would have guessed that such a fall could raise up a part of him he thought was lost.

As the three sit down for dinner together, Bucky smiles. He's got his family. They're all a little broken but he loves every bit of them. His beautiful Y/N, his new kitten Alpine, and most of all Sam. Best friend didn't seem strong enough. The two had truly become brothers. They went together now like-

"Salt and pepper," Bucky says aloud, chuckling softly. The anniversary of his and Sam's first mission together was coming up. And he just had the perfect idea.

"What was that?" Y/N asks.

"Nothing, doll," He replies. But he knows what he'll be ordering on a set of t-shirts that night.

A/N: The t-shirts inspired by this LOL

TAG ME IN EVERYTHING

@captain-shitty-kitties

@for-hearthand-home

@1marvelnerd3000

@manyfandomsfanvergent

@vickie5446

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Marvel (all characters, including Loki)

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#james bucky barnes #sam wilson #bucky barnes #winter solider #white wolf #falcon #captain america #y/n mentioned but not main focus #bucky x reader #sam and bucky bonding #NO SAMBUCKY SHIPPING #bucky healing #emotional trauma addressed #fix it fic #bucky finally gets closure

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makethatelevenrings · 1 year

Text

if you don’t understand the need for inclusive reader fics, for people to stop tagging white characters in POC tags (looking at you, Bucky Barnes fics in the Sam Wilson tag), and if you don’t understand why these kinds of posts need to be made, it is because media has always looked like you and catered to you

#honey.txt #bucky barnes x reader #yeah I fucking said it #‘but he’s mentioned in the story’#but why don’t you write for Sam?#‘but I don’t get enough notes’#it’s not ABOUT notes

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insertsparkleshere · 1 year

Text

Enchanted

Summary: The man with the metal arm never seems to remember you, but you really want him to. And, if he doesn't, you'll just have to figure him out yourself. (Inspired by the Taylor Swift song of the same name)

Word Count: 1,272

Pronouns: They/Them/Theirs

Published: 12/17/2022

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

There I was again tonight

Forcing laughter, faking smiles You didn't enjoy the parties, necessarily, but they were something you went to. You couldn't exactly escape them. Your parents wanted you there, so you went. Same old tired, lonely place

Walls of insincerity, shifting eyes and vacancy

Vanished when I saw your face Your only saving grace was the man with the metal arm. You never got his name - you always forgot, and by the time you remembered, the party was over, and he was long gone.

The first time you met, you were nineteen. You weren't sure how old he was, maybe twenty-five or so, but he was handsome. You caught him staring at you, and crossed the room.

"Hello." He said.

"Hi. You look bored, standing here in the corner."

"You can't possibly be having fun yourself."

"Well, these things aren't completely terrible, when the company is good."

"Is the company good tonight?"

"We'll see."

And, at the end of the night, he left with a man in a suit.

"It was enchanting to meet you." He said. You held out your hand, intending for him to shake it, but he bent, kissing your knuckles.

"Likewise."

All I can say is, it was enchanting to meet you

The next time you meet, he doesn't seem to remember you. It's been a year, and you both look relatively the same.

Except this time, he walks over to you.

Your eyes whispered, "Have we met?"

'Cross the room your silhouette

Starts to make its way to me

And so, the pattern began.

The playful conversation starts

Counter all your quick remarks

Like passing notes in secrecy

One of you makes your way to the other. He never seems to remember you, and you never get his name, but you see him at every party and talk to him every time.

And the night always ends with, "It was enchanting to meet you." He is always the one to say it, because he is the one who forgets.

And it was enchanting to meet you

All I can say is, I was enchanted to meet you

This night is sparkling, don't you let it go

I'm wonderstruck, blushing all the way home

I'll spend forever wondering if you knew

I was enchanted to meet you

After the second meeting, he remained on your mind. The man with the metal arm.

After the third, he began to keep you up at night.

Why didn't he remember?

The lingering question kept me up

2 AM, who do you love?

There had to be a reason. Your parents interacted with some shady people, but even when you saw him twice in a month, he didn't know you, and he always looked so familiar. Like you'd met him before, too, but you just couldn't place it.

I wonder 'til I'm wide awake

And now I'm pacing back and forth

Wishing you were at my door

I'd open up and you would say, "Hey"

It's after the fifth time that you start dreaming about him.

It's horrible. You don't know his name, you barely know anything about him, but he's in your dreams. Whisking you away to a coffee shop, then a small apartment.

It was enchanting to meet you

All I know is, I was enchanted to meet you

You don't know how many times you've met when you finally get a good shot.

"It's warm in here." He says, and you look at him.

"We could go outside." The words are careful; slow. He doesn't seem to know you very well.

"I'll go if you do."

This night is sparkling, don't you let it go

You lead him to a balcony overlooking a garden. You've been to this particular venue enough times that you practically have the place memorized.

"I swear I've met you before." You say, leaning on the railing.

"You're...familiar. I can't place it, though."

"Have you been to one of these parties before?"

"No. At least, I don't think so. Even if I had, I'm not supposed to talk to anyone tonight."

"Why not?"

"I'm a bodyguard. I'm supposed to stay with my boss."

"Then why didn't you?"

"I think he's okay. I'd rather talk to you, anyway."

I'm wonderstruck, blushing all the way home

I'll spend forever wondering if you knew

That this night is flawless, don't you let it go

That night is when you finally sit down, determined to figure out who this guy is. You don't really get anywhere, but you do make a list of questions to ask, the next time you see him.

And if you fantasize about him a little, that's your business.

I'm wonderstruck, dancing around all alone

I'll spend forever wondering if you knew

I was enchanted to meet you

A month later, you're out on the balcony again.

"I'm (Y/N), by the way. (Y/L/N)."

"James."

"Nice to meet you, James."

You don't press on the last name. It's a start.

And then, a man in a suit comes out onto the balcony. "It's time to go."

"Yes, sir." James turns back to you.

"I was...enchanted to meet you." You say, before he can.

He looks stunned, for just a second. "Likewise." He nods, and leaves.

This is me praying that

This was the very first page

Not where the story line ends

My thoughts will echo your name, until I see you again

You sit down at your desk that night, opening your notebook to the page of questions you had written down.

Name: James

You didn't know anything else. You'd have to start there.

And maybe you'd ask him out, at some point. One day.

These are the words I held back, as I was leaving too soon

I was enchanted to meet you

The next time, he's with a woman. She has red hair, and she's wearing a green dress, and she looks ethereal.

Please don't be in love with someone else

Please don't have somebody waiting on you

He dances with her, once, then he makes his way to you. And you talk for the rest of the night, and when she comes to get him so that they can leave, she sends him off to get their coats and looks back at you.

Please don't be in love with someone else

Please don't have somebody waiting on you

"He likes you."

This night is sparkling, don't you let it go

"Okay?"

You're a little scared of her, to be honest.

"He does. He just doesn't always remember things."

"Yeah, I kind of got that."

"Don't be too upset, alright?"

"I'm not."

You're more upset that he has a date for once than that he doesn't remember you. But her words linger, as you get in the car.

I'm wonderstruck, blushing all the way home

I'll spend forever wondering if you knew

This night is flawless, don't you let it go

I'm wonderstruck, dancing around all alone

I'll spend forever wondering if you knew

I was enchanted to meet you

At the next party, you're the one to walk up to him.

"Hi. You look a tad put out." You accept two glasses of champagne from a passing waiter, offering him one. "Is something wrong?"

"Just waiting on someone. But it seems they've finally arrived."

"I'm sorry?"

"Hi, (Y/N)."

"You remember."

"Yeah. It's been a bit of...a long road. It's a crazy story, and I'd rather tell you...well, not here."

"Do you want to get coffee? This Saturday?"

He smiles. "Sure."

Please don't be in love with someone else

Please don't have somebody waiting on you

#James barnes #bucky barnes #james bucky barnes #winter soldier #winter soldier x yn #winter soldier x reader #james barnes x reader #james barnes x yn #james barnes x you #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x yn #natasha romanoff (mentioned)#marvel #mcu

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holylulusworld · 1 year

Text

Barnes vs Barnes (10) - Thirty-nine

Summary: The unavoidable happened. What will Bucky do now?

Pairing: Mobster!Bucky Barnes x Wife/Ex-Wife Reader

Characters: Lloyd Hansen, Steve Rogers, Nick Fowler, Jake Jensen, Mace Brown

Warnings: angst, mentions of past cheating, Lloyd being Lloyd, threats, mentions of divorce/separation, implied character’s death

Barnes vs Barnes masterlist

<< Part 9

“What are you reading, sugar plum?” Lloyd casually strolls into the living room, glancing at the magazine you are reading. “Anything interesting?”

“Not really,” you sigh deeply. “I wanted to distract myself for a while. Jake said you wanted to tell me something. He had this look, ya know. I know he’s hiding things from me.”

“We discussed this last night and decided to tell you. I was against telling you but got…outnumbered,” your friend shrugs. “I came too late. Had things to worry about."

“Lloyd?”

He hums, as his eyes drift toward the magazine. “Yeah sugar plum.”

“Where have you been last night? I called, but you didn’t answer. You worry me. Fowler is still in town. We need to know where you are heading, Lloyd.”

“I had to-" He bites his tongue. It’s the wrong moment to tell you that he killed Natasha last night. His team has taken care of her body. No one will find her rotten bones. “take care of things.”

“You had sex,” you smirk. “Right? There’s lipstick on your collar.” Lloyd stiffens as you point at his collar. He double-checked his clothes but missed Natasha’s blood ended up on his shirt. “You naughty man.”

“Uh-yeah,” he rubs his thumb over the collar to feel the now-dried blood. “I gotta change. That naughty bitch ruined my favorite shirt.”

Lloyd points at the magazines, and says, “Don’t read that shit. It will rot your brain."

“I was just…” you huff. “Did you know that experts put your chances of getting divorced at thirty-nine percent? That’s a lot, don’t you think?” You look up at Lloyd. “I should have known this before getting married."

“Statistics are not for me, Y/N,” he says while cracking his neck. “I do what I have to do and don’t care about statistics or chances. I’m Lloyd Hansen. No one stops me.”

“I love your attitude, always did,” you chuckle. “Thank you for always being there for me. You know I love you, right?”

“I know,” he grins. “Who wouldn’t fall for my gorgeous ass and my mustache?" Lloyd winks at you. “You must love Lloyd Hansen.”

“You are so full of yourself.”

“What did you not understand?” Nick throws his hands up. “I want you to get me his wife. My brother’s empire will fall, and I will take over his throne, his queen by my side.”

“Why are you so obsessed with that woman? You don’t even know her,” Mace exasperatedly says. She sighs and shakes her head. “Nick, tell me about her. Is this a sick obsession or do you want to hurt your brother?”

“I met her first!” Nick yells. “When we were fifteen, I sneaked out of my mother’s house and took a bus. I ran away to drive back home and ran into Y/N. She believed I’m her neighbor’s son. Bucky. I talked to her first, and she fell in love with Bucky because of me! She should’ve been mine.”

“Fuck, no. Don’t tell me we came here for a woman,” Mace yells back. “Does Romanoff not do it for you anymore?" Do you need a fresh hole to fuck? I won’t start a war with Barnes and Rogers over some pussy.”

“Stop talking like that about her! I failed once, and they got back together. Not this time. I will make her see she belongs with me…”

“I still think this is a stupid idea. No, the stupidest idea in the history of stupid ideas,” Lloyd grunts as he plops down on one of the chairs in the conference room at his house. “Why is that bastard here too?”

Lloyd points at Bucky sitting opposite him. He narrows his eyes at your soon-to-be ex-husband.

“Fowler fucked Bucky over too," Steve responds. “He deserves to know. If not for them, Y/N and he could still be a happy couple.”

“You mean if he didn’t stick his dick into that skank,” Lloyd says in response. “That’s what happened. It doesn’t matter Romanoff planned all this. Barnes still went home with that bitch and fucked her. End of story.”

“Shut up. What do you know about me?" Bucky grunts. “Steve, would you tell me about Nick and Natasha?”

“We are waiting for Y/N to join us,” Jake looks up from his laptop to glare at Bucky. “You are only here because Rogers insisted on bringing you here.”

“Steve, Jake?” you call from outside the room. “Lloyd said you wanted to talk to me now. Uh-can someone lend me a hand? I got food.”

“Wait. I’ll help you." Bucky wants to jump up, but Lloyd is faster. He holds your husband down by his shoulders, keeping him from getting up. “Let go of me, bastard.”

“Steve, Jake, would you please help, Y/N?" Lloyd bares his teeth. “Her husband is occupied elsewhere.”

“Lloyd. No fighting,” Jake tries to keep Lloyd from killing your husband. “For Y/N. Please keep your shit together for one night.”

“Fine. If he keeps his hands to himself and his mouth shut,” Lloyd glares at Bucky. “One false move and you are dead.”

Lloyd steps away. He huffs and sits back down in his chair. While Jake and Steve take the food tray out of your hands, Lloyd starts a staring contest with Bucky.

“Why is Bucky here?" you whisper as you enter the room. “Steve, you promised me I wouldn't see him. Now you bring him here?”

“Doll, we need to tell you something. Bucky should hear this too. It’s about Nick’s plans,” Steve softly says. He guides you toward a chair next to Lloyd. “Please trust us in this.”

“Okay,” you sniff. “It’s just unsettling to be in the same room with him.”

“I’m sorry,” Bucky whispers. You refuse to look at him. It’s just too hard having him around. You accepted that there is no saving your marriage. Still, your heart hurts whenever you look at him.

"You fucked up. Literally. Not for the first time." Lloyd grunts, "Save it, Barnes. Saying sorry won't fix anything.

“Guys, no fights," Jake shouts as he places the tray with food on the conference table. “Y/N made food, and we need to talk about Nick’s plans. If we want to survive this, we all need to work together.”

“Survive this? What’s that supposed to mean?” Steve looks at Jake. He furrows his brows. “What didn’t you tell us yet, Jake?”

“It means Fowler didn't come here alone. He has allies. Damn grim allies,” Jake opens a file on his laptop. “Let the information I found speak for itself. Fowler is out for blood, and I’m afraid it is our blood…”

>> Part 11

Tags in reblog.

#bucky barnes x reader #steve rogers x reader #bucky x reader #steve rogers #mobster!bucky barnes x fem!reader #mobster!bucky #bucky barnes #Barnes vs Barnes (10) - Thirty-nine #tw: mentions of cheating

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nocapesdahling · 2 years

Note

Fic authors self rec! When you get this, reply with your favorite five fics that you've written, then pass on to at least five other writers. Let’s spread the self-love 💖

Ooh, thank you so much for sending this Mack! 💜

Let's see, my five favorite fics I've written are (It was a little hard to narrow down and there's a lot of Zemo on this list 😅):

Logs on the Fire : Geralt of Rivia x Reader

Sweet: Helmut Zemo x Reader

Cousin Helmut: Helmut Zemo x Reader (Addams Family Crossover)

All of Me: Pre-Serum Steve Rogers x Reader

Appraisal: Helmut Zemo x Reader (Dark Fic with Soft!Dark King Zemo)

Honorable Mentions: Winter Wonderland (Bucky Barnes x Reader) and Helmut Zemo & John Wick Headcanons (Crossover) because I had so much fun with them.

#asks #mack the pirate queen #I cheated a little with the honorable mentions #Geralt of Rivia x reader #Helmut Zemo x reader #baron zemo x reader #Zemo x reader #Steve Rogers x reader #pre serum steve rogers x reader #Bucky Barnes x reader #dark fic #addams family fanfic #John wick fanfic

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a-reader-and-a-writer-for-all · 2 years

Text

Time to Wake Up

Fandom: Marvel, Bucky Barnes x Reader, Steve Rogers

Word Count: 1331

TW: Cemetary, Mentions of Death, Letting Go, Grief, Moving On

Note: Set between Infinity War and Endgame

Sequel to Nightmares (but can be read independently from it), Part 3 (Coming Soon)

As you walked through the cemetery for what seemed like the thousandth time, you can’t help but note how much more crowded it used to be when you first started coming here five years ago. Back then, you had to carefully push your way past large groups of mourners to make it to your destination. Today, it seems like you are the only one here. But you guessed after so long, people move on, they forget. But not you. And that is the problem.

As you reached your desired headstone, you brushed off a few leaves from the top before placing a light kiss on the stone. Then, as you crouched down and stared at the inscription, you whispered with a small smile, “Hey, Buck. I’m sorry I haven’t been by to see you for a while. Things are….they’re not great. The world has kinda fallen apart since everyone disappeared. I thought things would have gotten better by now, but I guess when half the world’s population just vanishes into thin air, it takes a while to adjust. But I’ve told you all of this before.”

Your smile dropped from your face and was replaced by a teary-eyed expression instead. “I need to talk to you about something and I’m not sure how to start. But maybe if you understand how I’m feeling, you’ll understand why I’ve made the choice I have.” You looked down sadly at the flowers that were still clutched in your hands. “I dreamt you were alive last night. Well, that’s kind of misleading. I dream you’re alive every night. That you hold me in your arms, you pull me tight against your chest, and you make all the pain go away. And for those few hours, it’s the only time I feel at home. But as soon as I wake up, that hurt is fresh all over again. I lose you once more every morning. And for a while, it was worth it. The new heartbreak over and over for a few hours in your arms.

“But here’s the thing Bucky….I can’t do it anymore. It hurts too bad, and I have to find a way to get past it, past you. Because as much as I keep trying to tell myself there may be a way to bring you back, I don’t think I really believe that anymore. I lost you five years ago, and I just need to accept that. And the first thing I need to do is stop coming here, at least for a while. Being here, talking to you, it’s not good for me. I know that, I’ve always known that. Only it’s been too hard to stay away.

“But there are people who are still here who need my help and I can’t do that if I am still grieving you all over again every single day. I hope, wherever you are, you can hear me and you understand. This doesn’t mean I don’t still love you, that I won’t still love you for the rest of my life. Because I will. But I need to move on. It's time for me to stop living in the dream. It's time for me to finally wake up. So, I think this is goodbye. Maybe someday, I can come back and it won’t hurt as much. But for now, I won’t be returning. Hopefully, one day in the future when my time is up, we will meet again. But until that time…” You leaned over and placed another, longer kiss to the headstone. Though it was made of granite and not metal, the cold, hard surface reminded you of his arm and for a brief moment, you let yourself have the illusion that that was what you were kissing instead. But then, you pulled away, laid the flowers down, and walked out of the cemetery without looking back.

As you approached your car, you saw a familiar figure leaning against the passenger door with his arms folded across his chest, waiting for you. Ducking your head slightly and pulling your coat tighter around you, you walked past him and over to the driver’s side door. He pushed off the door and followed you over to the other side of the car.

With a deep sigh, you muttered. “What are you doing here, Steve? I thought you promised not to come by when I was here.”

“I’m sorry, but I needed to talk to you, and I figured this would be the only place I’d be able to track you down. Nat refused to give me your home address.”

“Good. She promised me she wouldn’t. I told you before, I don’t want anything else to do with you.”

“Listen, I shouldn’t have said those things. I was just as upset as you were, and they just slipped out. I didn’t mean it.”

You chuckled humorlessly. “Haven’t you ever heard the expression ‘Pay attention to what people say out of anger, they've been dying to tell you that’? And I’m pretty sure you had been dying to tell me what you really thought of me for a long time.” You tried snatching the car door open, but Steve held it shut.

“Fine. Maybe I do think you’ve been wallowing in self-pity too long and shirking your responsibilities to the team and, quite frankly, the world. We all lost people but the rest of us have pulled ourselves together enough to try and make the best out of this situation. For everyone, not just us. But I had no right to say you weren’t worthy of him. He loved you more than I have ever seen him love someone and I know you loved him just the same. And as much as I miss him, I can’t imagine the pain you’re going through. So, for that, I am sorry.”

You stared down at your feet, trying to hide the tears that were threatening to fall. “Fine. Whatever. Just tell me what you want so we can both be on our way.”

Steve took a deep breath. “We think we found a way to bring everyone back.”

Your head jerked up sharply and you scanned his face for any sign that he was lying. However, he looked completely sincere. “When did you figure this out? How?”

“Scott Lang.”

Your face furrowed in confusion. “Ant-Man? But he disappeared in the snap.”

“That’s what we thought too…. Until he showed up at the compound last week. He’s been trapped in what he calls the Quantum Zone. It’s really complicated and scientific but, based on the information he gave us, Bruce and Tony think they found a way to retrieve the stones from the past and fix everything. Everyone could come back.”

“Wait…are you suggesting time travel?” When he nodded, you scoffed and shoved him out of the way, finally gaining access to your car. You climbed in and started to shut the door, but Steve’s superhuman strength held it open with ease.

“This will work. But we need your help. You are one of, if not the, top-ranking S.H.I.E.L.D. agent left. If we are going to try to steal the stones right from under S.H.I.E.L.D.’s noses, we are going to need some inside help.” He saw you hesitate, your refusal of support starting to waiver. “Please, we can’t do this without you.”

You ran your hands over your face before glancing at your old friend. “Steve…I can’t do this unless you promise me this will work. I just got to a place where I think I can finally move on. If you drag me back there, you give me hope, and it doesn’t work….I won’t be able to survive that.”

Steve’s clear, blue eyes bore into yours, once again filled with complete sincerity. “We will bring them back, whatever it takes.”

You looked up at him and, after a moment, nodded. “Whatever it takes.”

#sfw repost #fic #bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #winter soldier #winter soldier x reader #sebastian stan #steve rogers #captain america #chris evans #endgame #infinity war #marvel x reader #marvel #angst #cemetary #mentions of death tw

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starrybxcky · 9 months

Text

Does adding 10 variations of the the same tag make a difference in reaching a wider audience? When 9/10 of those tags are barely followed?😐

#and plus now tumblr does that thing where if you mention Bucky x reader #it will also appear in the Bucky Barnes tag #so #I mean I do see more tags = more notes but that doesn’t necessarily mean there’s a correlation #because as I said [refer to the post]#so should I give it a try #lol.#bucky x reader

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gutsby · 4 months

Text

Wedded Bliss

Pairing: Mob!Bucky x Reader

Summary: The marriage was arranged, and the sex is deranged. Bucky is so obsessed with your pussy that he almost forgets he’s meant to be faking this whole thing—and hating it, like sworn enemies are supposed to do.

Warnings: 18+. Dubcon. Corruption kink. Virginity loss. Arranged marriage between enemies. Brat taming. Breeding kink. Beefy, mob boss Bucky devolving into a fall-to-his-knees-just-to-fuck-you kind of horny mess.

Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4

You kissed him and wished him dead in the same breath. You said ‘I do’ and meant ‘I don’t,’ exchanged your vows like your own last rites, and felt him slip the ring on your finger as if he’d just tightened a noose around your neck.

You didn’t want to be a bride, and you sure as hell didn’t want to be the bride to Mr. James Buchanan Barnes.

Frankly, you were mortified.

And terrified, too, now that you knew your groom might actually kill you in the kitchen of your honeymoon suite.

“Have you lost your fucking mind?!”

“I walked down the aisle, didn’t I?”

Another plate went crashing on the wall behind your husband’s head just as he managed to duck. He side-stepped a spray of porcelain and glass and probably crushed several hundred shards beneath his polished black oxfords when he walked—stalked—over to you.

You’d just reared back to hurl a serving plate at his face when you found your speed swiftly outmatched. Bucky had your elbow gripped between his forefinger and thumb in less than a second, and, pinching the bone like he might readily break it, he said, even as always,

“Put it down.”

You did as he told you and dropped the platter to the floor with a crash.

Rather than berate you for the broken china—or the four other pieces before it—your husband only smiled.

“Are we done?”

Hell, you wanted to be. Slide over a pen and a one-way plane ticket to someplace in BFE, and you’d be signing those divorce papers in a heartbeat. Unfortunately, your dear husband was just referring to the temper tantrum.

You weren’t totally sure if you were finished on that front, so you looked him up and down and shrugged.

“Now darling—” he started.

“Don’t call me that.”

“Light of my life—”

“I’ll kill you.”

Your cool, level-headed groom took each gibe like it was his sworn duty, and only when he yanked your wrists behind your back and shoved you toward the bedroom door did you sense that he might not be too pleased with your behavior.

Your knees struck the edge of the California King at the center of the room, and before you could will yourself not to fall face-first, Bucky nudged you hard again.

Still pinning your hands behind you, he followed your collapse on the bed and leaned over your prone body.

His breaths were hot on your ear; you could tell he was smiling as he started to hike your dress up your legs.

“It’s all part of the deal, doll.”

You wriggled under his hold and tried to angle yourself better to see him, hoping he’d see your scowl.

“The deal was to get married,” you reminded him.

“Mhmm,” Bucky hummed, just then starting to trail a finger up the uncovered skin of your calf with his other hand, “And what is it that married people do?”

You kicked your foot reflexively, paused, then said,

“Fight. Constantly. Probably resent each other for the better part of two decades before we finally decide that ‘making it work’ for the kids isn’t worth it at all, and I claim half of everything you own in a bitter divorce.”

That earned a chuckle from Bucky. He kept his roaming hand brushing up the back of your thigh and squeezed the flesh just below the swell of your rear.

“Don’t worry, my lawyer drafted a pretty good prenup.”

You opened your mouth to speak, but then he was tracing the contour of your ass with his palm, and you cut yourself short. Bucky carried on, careless as ever.

“But the kids you mentioned,” he said, “How are we supposed to get those?”

You pursed your lips and tried hard not to move when his fingers drifted inward—you wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of seeing you squirm. The bottom of your dress was bunched around your hips now, leaving you sorely exposed. Had your bridesmaids not thrust that stupid white lingerie set upon you hours before the wedding, you probably would’ve chosen something a little more modest than a thong. But here you were.

At least the sight seemed appealing to your husband, whose eyes hadn’t left you once while his hands grew even hungrier to feel your warmth.

“I’m hoping a sperm donor or one of your double-crossing mobster friends will knock me up, honestly,” you said, feigning enthusiasm at the thought.

A tart slap delivered to your ass told you that Bucky hadn’t found that funny. After, he started kneading the skin a bit harder.

“No shot,” he shook his head, suddenly gliding his fingers down closer to your core and waiting for you to say something in protest, “Only one that’s gonna be pumping this thing full of babies is me, I promise.”

It was like he wanted your retaliation, whether that be by a thinly veiled look of disgust or a reactionary jab of your own. You weren’t keen on fulfilling any wish of his, but at this point, you felt you had no other choice. When you sensed he was distracted by the newly-discovered heat between your legs and had loosened his grip on your wrists, you flipped yourself over on the bed. Shoved at his chest before he knew what to do with himself.

Of course, the push didn’t send him far, but it was enough to get his attention—and his hands off of you.

“I’m not having your babies, Barnes! I am never going to fuck you, no matter how long we stay fake married,” you spat.

At that, Bucky just raised his eyebrows and wet his lips. You were cramming your wedding dress back into place, glaring at him the whole time, and were scarcely more aware of the bright, teeming city outside the window than you were of your husband’s own growing erection.

Finally, you’d said it. His new wife wouldn’t fuck him. The sound of your resistance was almost a pleasure unto itself, and the longer you stared at Bucky with growing contempt and resolve not to do that thing, the more determined he became to make it happen.

Cat-and-mouse games had long been a staple in his life, and he was pleased to see them carry into his marriage as well. Surely if he’d triumphed in every pursuit for the last twenty years—facing the likes of some seriously execrable bandits and racketeers—he could take on a bratty woman less than half his size. You said you didn’t want his babies now, but just wait until he’d fucked you full of his cum once or twice. You’d be begging him for it in no time at all, and shortly thereafter, he’d have you barefoot and pregnant as many times as he liked. Always swollen with one of his children and whining for more.

The woman before him now had a murderous glint in her eyes, but he could fuck that away easy. In fact, he would live to do it. He traced the outline of your thigh over your dress and smiled when you tried not to recoil.

“Surely you didn’t think we’d be finger-painting and reading poetry to each other on our wedding night, hm?” he asked, almost delicately.

“Thought you might have one of your other women lined up,” you snorted. When you tried to move away, Bucky pinched your leg to make you stay. You winced.

“That’s not funny,” he said, a little more consternation in his tone. Like he actually cared whether you thought him a profligate Lothario or not, “Now that we’re married, it’s only you and me. No mistresses, nothing.”

Yeah, and he was just as likely arriving to your marital bed a blushing virgin. You rolled onto your side and pretended not to feel him tighten his grip as you did.

“Try the carnal part of our marriage yourself and I’m sure you’ll find I’m an exceptional fuck,” Bucky continued, speaking low as he stroked the chiffon of your dress.

You didn’t doubt the man was good—certainly the extent of his sexual escapades as a twenty-something seemed to demand it—but exceptional? No fucking way. You knew men like Bucky, with the world and every walking pair of tits at their fingertips, and almost all were incurably selfish. Cocky. The kind to jackhammer a woman for three consecutive minutes, roll over, and say, ‘Did you cum?’

No, there was not a snowball’s chance in hell your husband’s sexual prowess was even half as good as he claimed it was. Deciding to bite your tongue for the first time that night, though, you just stared at him blankly.

What you didn’t know was that your silence only stoked the flames of his ego, prompting him to press the matter further.

“What? You think I can’t fuck?” he said, “Any woman lucky enough to bed me has cum at least twice. Every time.”

Sure they did, Bucky, you wanted to say, but were suddenly drawn into his lap before you could speak.

“But let’s pretend I can’t,” he said, heedless of the face you made as soon as you were straddling his hips, “You wouldn’t let your husband prove himself tonight?”

“I don’t fuck strangers.”

Bucky smiled at that.

“Everyone’s a stranger until you get to blow them, honey,” he teased, squeezing your hips when you didn’t seem amused at all. Then you let out a cry, feeling yourself thrown back on the mattress like a rag doll while Bucky moved off.

Before you knew it, he was tugging your ankles down the length of the bed and widening his stance just a bit. He stopped pulling once your knees were grazing his black dress pants and your feet were dangling off of the bed.

“You like skylines?” he asked.

You frowned and raised a brow that he was quick to interpret as a ‘yes.’ He hauled you onto your feet.

“‘Course you do. All pretty girls like pretty skies,” he rattled on, strolling with you step-by-step to the set of French doors at the end of the room.

Bucky led you out to the balcony. The air was warm as it ever was, dull gusts of the evening wind curling up from the coastline below. Just as your husband had promised, the skyline of Santorini greeted you on either side, and you had to admit, it was more than just pretty. The views from your villa were absolutely breathtaking.

You stood with your back to Bucky, hands resting on the marble balustrade, and you felt him there, behind you. You didn’t bother to tilt your head when he drew even closer.

“What do you like most about it?” The question was simple enough, punctuated with a kiss on your shoulder. Your eyes scanned the horizon, the sea, even the quiet little streets down beneath, and you racked your brain trying to think of an answer that might satisfy him.

Before you could, though, you sucked in a breath when you felt your dress start to come undone at your back.

Bucky was unzipping your gown, gentle as ever, and probably grinning from ear to ear as he watched you shift uncomfortably in place and try to hold the material above your breasts where it had been fastened all day. Presently, you kicked your heel backward and hoped it would land somewhere near his balls. You missed.

“James,” you hissed.

Bucky groaned at the sheer intonation of his name on your lips.

“Yes, dear?”

“Why are you undressing me?”

Bucky had successfully dragged the zipper all the way down to your ass, and it seemed he was trying to shimmy the dress off your frame. You held on tight.

“I’d like to fuck my bride over the balcony railing, if that’s alright with you,” he answered truthfully.

The man was nothing if not blunt and crass. You turned around to give him a look, yanking your gown even closer to your chest.

“I’ll— I’ll tell my mother, Barnes.”

You felt stupid as soon as you’d said it—using your go-to threat whenever you were in distress. What were you, eleven?

“Your mother?” Bucky repeated, words steeped in derision, “Last I recall, mommy dearest was practically begging me to get you pregnant at the reception.”

Your jaw clenched, and you internally cursed your whole family. Your parents were supposed to be on your side throughout all of this—it was bad enough they’d pawned you off to a mob boss of unrivaled infamy all to settle a debt, but this? Your mother had assured you just the day before that Mr. Barnes was bound to tire of you within the year. No mention of sex or babies whatsoever.

The same mother who had beat you over the head with the notion of your own virginity since you were old enough to read, the one who had underscored just how important it was to wait for the right man to give yourself body, mind, and soul to, turning around and telling this filthy criminal to have you any way he liked. And knock you up? The fucking nerve of that woman.

You were so preoccupied with thoughts of your own backstabbing family that you hardly felt Bucky drag your dress the rest of the way down your body. It was only when you were completely bare before him, and your husband had just started to skim his lips over your tummy that you tensed with surprise.

“I don’t have to fuck you just yet, doll,” he murmured, having sunk to his knees and only moving lower. Then the corners of his lips twitched, “Least not with my dick.”

You tried to pry his head from between your legs before he could stretch his tongue so much as an inch.

“James!”

Again with that name.

“You know, I love when you call me that, Mrs. Barnes.”

Bucky was peering up at you now, soaking in the sight of your body in a white lace bra, panties, and stockings.

“Is my bride feeling shy?” he teased, gently nipping at your inner thighs.

You weren’t sure what you were feeling in that moment, to be honest. Revulsion, betrayal, arousal, you name it—each crowned with an all-encompassing hatred for the man currently occupying the space between your legs—while a still stronger desire almost hoped he would stay.

“You can hate your husband all you want and still let him tonguefuck you,” Bucky growled against your skin.

Like he’d read your mind.

In reality, your husband hardly needed the powers of telepathy to tell him just how turned on you were; the sopping wet spot in your panties said as much. From his vantage point, Bucky saw the disgust in your eyes slowly eclipsed by lust, and with a single flick of his tongue, he knew he would have you exactly where he wanted you.

“Just let it happen, honey.”

He felt your fingers thread tight through his hair and the first stir of your hips in tandem. One small, delectable whimper crossed your lips, and it took everything in Bucky not to tear your panties straight off with his teeth.

Instead, the man opted for a soft, gentle lick over your clothed slit. Testing the waters.

Your whimper was quick to meld to a moan, and then, just as fast:

“N-no, Bucky.”

To your dismay, his tongue didn’t retreat, only making firmer laps against your centre while his lips grazed the lace. He gripped your thighs and wedged himself deeper, and again, you cursed the paper thin fabric of your panties for letting you feel everything his mouth was doing. He hadn’t even made proper contact with your cunt, and your knees were already starting to shake.

He pressed a kiss above your clit through the flimsy material, and you almost tore a clump of hair from his head.

“No. Please.” You hardly made sense to yourself; it was clear you wanted his touch, but something inside you wasn’t quite ready to submit to the idea that this was all okay. That your husband’s tongue and lips might be meant for something like this, and you didn’t have to feel so guilty for wanting it either. Fucking purity culture.

“My pretty girl,” Bucky presently murmured above the fabric, words sending a dozen little shockwaves in their wake, “My beautiful fucking wife.”

The man inhaled your scent and could’ve sworn he was in ecstasy. Blinded by desire as he was, he really wasn’t bullshitting in the slightest when he gathered you to him and said you were the best; he’d genuinely grown transfixed by the feel of you, in spite of every fibre of his being telling him not to. The marriage was arranged, fake, and fueled by hatred—and somehow, Bucky couldn’t get enough.

Nor could he wait any longer. One light swipe of his finger tugged your panties aside, and then he was latching on, no cover this time, to take your clit between his lips. Sucking hard, going fast, needing it bad.

A moan rang loud in his ears, and your hand on his head was instantly joined by the other. You yanked his hair like you never had before, pulling so tight at the roots as though your pleasure depended on it. Bucky smiled around the soft pearl in his mouth and flicked it gently with the tip of his tongue.

“Feel good, baby?” he breathed.

His head tilted up to you, and he could see you were struggling just to breathe, face painted with a medley of emotions.

You didn’t know if you could, or should, be feeling this good from a man so evil. Bucky flattened his tongue and licked a long stripe up your pussy to ensure that you would. Then he posed the question again, smirking.

“You like my tongue on this wet, needy cunt?”

His words were so damn obscene, but you nodded anyway. Feeling small and powerless beneath those big, broad hands as they pinned you back on the marble and spread you even wider for the taking.

He loved how innocent and lewd you looked at once, wincing with pleasure and still trying to keep your composure like you thought a good girl should.

Bucky wanted to break that resolve. He brought one hand closer to your entrance.

And, just as your breaths were starting to hitch and grow more ragged in your chest, he pushed two fingers inside. The act surprised your husband almost as much as it did you—not quite, but almost—upon feeling how tight you were, how resistant to even two digits you seemed to be. He hardly knew whether to shove them deeper or pull them out, so fast did your muscles contract around him.

When you whined a loud, protracted, ‘FUCK!’ he figured he would stick with the former. He grinned, having never heard you speak, much less swear, out of pleasure like this.

Your head lolled back and your body made an arch when his fingers curled inside you. You were panting, moaning, coating his hand with your juices, and Bucky knew you were close.

He started pumping his fingers in and out while his tongue worked your clit, chin practically doused in your arousal by now. A swell of pride rose within him: he could finally bring you home to that sweet release, have you a shaking, soaking mess above his face like you were wholly his and no one else’s. He moved his tongue even faster and sank his fingers straight down to the knuckle.

Then, unexpectedly, both were robbed of your touch.

Seized with fear, you shoved Bucky off and stumbled away from his glistening face. You took off toward the doors and fled the balcony before you could think.

“What the f— honey? Honey?!” Bucky sputtered. He bounded after you.

You’d thrown yourself in the master bathroom and locked the door behind you in the blink of an eye. Outside, your husband had only to stare in pure bewilderment and awe, mind reeling at what had just happened.

Fucking hell, he knows. He knows! You collapsed against the door and slid down a couple inches. Your hand reflexively flew to your mouth to stifle the sounds when Bucky began pounding the wood behind you.

“Baby, what’s wrong? What’s—what’s goin’ on?”

In truth, you’d rather chug bleach than divulge the thought that had just scared the everliving fuck out of you back there. It was stupid and senseless and should’ve been frightening you for weeks before it ever came to this, but here you were, panicked in the bathroom of your honeymoon suite because you’d never done this before—and you’d never reached climax in your life without bursting into tears.

Fuck, you felt stupid. How could you think this would be any different—or that Bucky’s tongue wouldn’t eventually attempt to wrest an orgasm out of you?

It’d just felt so good, you thought maybe a new climax brought by someone else’s fingers might free you from the same unsavory demise you’d met a hundred times before, but then it hit you, shortly after Bucky had plunged his fingers inside, you were going to cry.

You winced when Bucky’s knocks grew louder, his voice gaining more ire by the second, it seemed.

“Open the fucking door!”

He’d rake you over the coals for this. Getting so close to what he wanted, only to have his silly little bride snatch it all away and run hiding in the en-suite bathroom? Your stomach turned at the thought of what men in the mob were liable to do with women like you—what Bucky might conceivably do now that you’d sparked his rage.

Your eyes darted to the window just as his fist shook the doorframe behind you. You ran over to the tub, tucked squarely beneath the windowsill, and climbed onto it just to get a hold of the fastenings around the glass.

One click synchronized with the furious cadence being hammered on the door, and just as you started to slide the pane up the way, a heavy thud sounded outside. The weight of your husband’s body being thrust against the door, most likely.

You bit your lip and lifted one leg over the windowsill, shuffling your body even closer to the outside world.

Three floors up! Have you lost your mind? You could hear your father’s words ringing in your skull already. There was a ledge, you reasoned, no more than ten feet below, if you could just grab hold of the frame right there and slide down the cool stone you might—

“Fuck,” Bucky groaned.

You watched your husband heave through the busted door of the bathroom, wide eyes and a ‘Here’s Johnny’ flourish raging hot on his face. Your heart leapt to your throat, and you started to lower yourself out of the window, hoping desperately for that ledge below to be sturdy. But before you could make it even half of the way there, strong arms were circling your frame and yanking you back inside, hurtling straight into the bathtub with Bucky tumbling over you.

“What are you doing?!” he roared.

You wriggled under his weight, petrified of the fiery look in his eyes as he lurched over your frame.

He straightened up just enough to shake you by the shoulders—like a parent reprimanding a child.

“What the fuck was that?! Huh? You think that’s fucking funny, jumping out windows?”

No, no, not funny, you wanted to bite back, but found your mouth dry and unable to speak. When Bucky shook you again, you had only to whimper a pathetic sound.

The man was enraged. Stubble still damp with your juices and looking undeniably frazzled and spent, he drew closer to your face and demanded you look at him. When he took hold of your cheeks in both hands, the command couldn’t have reached you any more clearly.

“What— what was that for?” his voice lowered as he tried to catch his breath. You still couldn’t move.

“I-I don’t—” you stopped and hardly knew how to say it:

Sorry to cut our tonguefucking session short, I was just afraid I might burst into a fit of uncontrollable tears while you licked and sucked me through the best orgasm of my life. I’d rather jump off, or out of, a building than tell my mob boss husband that I can’t cum without crying. By the way, I’m a virgin!

Instead, you just blinked and stared back at him.

“Can’t…do it,” you murmured.

Bucky’s expression only grew more puzzled by the words out of your mouth. He squeezed your face tighter and leaned in even closer.

“Do what? Sex? Fuck, I— I didn’t mean to be that aggressive, hell, I’m sorry.” He stopped to run a hand through his hair, and for the first time, you could’ve sworn you saw the first glint of compunction in his eyes.

He looked away a few seconds, as if collecting what fragmented thoughts he could, then brought his head back down to your level and took your hands in his.

“Honey?” he tried getting your attention, just barely above a whisper now, “I know the whole thing’s fucked, I know.”

That was the understatement of the century. To your surprise, Bucky’s gaze softened when he saw a scowl cross your face.

“We don’t…have to do anything. I was just pushing your buttons earlier. Being a dick.”

His tongue moved to wet his lips once more, this time without the seductive, smug demeanor he usually wore and simply exhibiting discomfort. He swallowed. The bow tie around his neck appeared to him to be fastened far too tight all of a sudden, and then, haphazardly, he started clawing at the garment to get it off.

You didn’t know why you felt compelled to help. It was like all ten fingers just lifted of their own accord to join Bucky’s hands in trying to undo his tie.

The silk fabric wasn’t tied, but knotted, crudely and inflexibly, beneath the little black bow. You frowned. Still unable to meet his gaze as you worked your fingers under the tangled material and tried to pretend like the two of you weren’t still sweating profusely from the events that had just transpired—both the tonguefucking and the window-jumping.

“Who tied this, a five-year-old?” you muttered.

“I’m thirty-eight, thanks,” Bucky returned just as quietly.

Both of you indulged in a smile that lasted no longer than a second, but you felt the tension ease a little.

This was not where you thought your dreaded wedding night was headed before. Curled up in a bathtub with your hands around your husband’s neck—and not actually trying to kill him—while Bucky blinked almost nervously the longer your hands lingered on his collar. It seemed he’d found something especially tantalizing on the wall behind your head, because his stare remained fixed on that spot the whole time you fiddled with his tie.

Maybe that, along with the last ebb of alcoholic influence from the reception still coursing through your veins, had emboldened you to come right out and say it while Bucky was looking away. You couldn’t be sure.

“I’ve never had sex before.”

At last, the tie loosened a little.

Bucky flicked his gaze back to yours in a second.

“What?”

You lifted a brow, wondering if he really needed an explanation as to what it meant to have never gotten laid before, but you decided against indulging him any further. Bucky seemed keen on doing that all by himself.

“You’re a virgin?”

You nodded.

“Didn’t my overbearing mother make sure you knew?”

“Yeah, I thought she was full of shit,” Bucky answered bluntly. Then, catching sight of the semi-offended look in your eye, mixed with a tad more amusement than indignation, he added, “I mean— I didn’t think you’d, uh, wanna wait…twenty-five years for some action.”

He winced when he realized that sounded just as bad. His throat cleared shortly to make way for a new attempt at comity, but you cut him off, shaking your head as you finally got the knot to untangle.

“No, I get it. I don’t know why I waited this long either,” you shrugged.

As soon as you’d freed him from his bow tie, you started to stand from the bath tub. Bucky, too, straightened to his full height and started to close the window while you walked back to the bedroom.

You eyed the rose petals strewn across the duvet and felt a little more relaxed this time around. The weight of the V-word had been lifted from your shoulders, and now you had only to share the crying-while-cumming stuff to Bucky later on. Much later on, you hoped.

You crawled onto the bed and stretched out on your belly, playing with the soft red petals and wondering if room service was still offered at this hour.

Bucky had just stepped out of the bathroom when he halted at the threshold. Saw your body sprawled out on the bed, back arched and ass pointed in the air as you reached over for the phone on the nightstand. He stared for a second too long and felt a familiar stir in his pants.

Sonovabitch, he started to think, before chiding himself silently, Shut up, man, she’s a virgin. Be cool. Be cool—don’t make her jump out a window again.

He ducked back in the bathroom and eased the door to just a crack while you discovered a voice on the line:

“Hi! Hey, I’d like to order room service to, uh…” your voice trailed off. Then, covering the mouthpiece, “James, what’s our room number?”

Inside the bathroom, Bucky squeezed his eyes shut at the sound of his name. Already palming his erection through his dress pants as he leaned against the wall.

“We rented the whole building, dear,” he called back.

“Oh.” He could just imagine the slight pout on your lips as you spoke. Then you asked if he wanted anything to eat, Bucky thought only of the sweet nectar between your legs, and he answered aloud, no, he was fine, really.

For the first time in his life, the man felt positively ashamed he was about to rub one out in a bathroom, alone. It wasn’t like this was the first it had ever been done, but now there was you, innocent and oblivious in the next room over, while Bucky undid his belt and quietly freed his cock from his dress pants. It felt kind of perverted, in a way, but he knew he needed this release to put his mind at ease and not feel so affected by you.

While you scanned your phone for a menu and chatted with the concierge downstairs about various food items, Bucky was spitting in his hand and fumbling for his shaft. You talked American Wagyu sirloin, lobster thermidor, and seared Faroe Island salmon while he thought achingly about the way your cunt had tasted and how badly he wanted to try it again.

How did he feel about an artisan cheese platter? Bucky hardly had the wits about himself to answer beyond a strangled, ‘Whatever you want, honey’ and a tightened fist around his cock, stroking hard to get the filthy thoughts out of his head before the food arrived.

Ever sweet, soft, supple, and savory—his mind reeled with fresh memories of that place between your thighs, and he almost lurched forward in pleasure.

Your brute of a mob boss husband was irreparably pussy-whipped and hadn’t even fucked you yet. He gripped the bathroom sink beside him and sincerely wished it wasn’t his hand doing the work right now. But of course, he had to be patient, had to be kind—couldn’t force himself on a woman who clearly wasn’t ready.

Again, he spit in his palm and jerked himself fast.

Any minute now, he thought with some relief.

Your feet padded softly into the living room as the pleasure inside him was starting to crest. Still pining for your warmth and the way your legs trembled around his head, Bucky was all but fucking his hand at this point. He’d snagged his bottom lip between his teeth in a lopsided smile and groaned, too low to be heard, and pumped himself even faster for his impending orgasm.

A thought crossed your mind as you stopped ahead of the sofa. You pivoted.

Suddenly, you were skipping back to the bathroom, wanting to know Bucky’s wine preferences before you placed another order.

You barged in and froze.

“Sorry!” you squeaked, darting out just as fast.

Five seconds slower and you probably would’ve seen Bucky blow his load all over the sink. As it was, the man was left sorely at a loss for any form of release and heaving fast, ragged breaths from the colossal scare you’d just given him.

Good fucking going, Buck—your wife wants to cuddle and eat cheese and you’re out here beating your meat.

Bucky shoved himself back in his pants and waited an excruciating minute for the sound of your second window exit of the night. A slammed door, a frantic phone call, a few sobs into your pillow as you realized how dirty and depraved your husband was, anything.

He was only met with silence.

Taking one more shaky breath, Bucky reached for the doorknob and started back out. Cautiously.

The man took his slow, silent leave of the bathroom with his gaze trained toward the doors—half-expecting to see his bride rappelling from the balcony—but then quickly shifted to the bed. Finding you kneeling at the edge.

“James?”

Your voice almost pained.

A word was all it took. Bucky was back on his knees.

“I’m sorry. I just wanted it to go away, honey. I’m sorry.”

Go away? You quirked a brow and couldn’t hold his gaze much longer; just trailed your vision down his torso to his pants, then his erection, still standing prominent as ever.

Bucky struggled to decide whether you were ticked off or intrigued, seeing your eyes make their painful appraisal of his length beneath his pants. Your brow was pinched, but your head was cocked. Almost curious.

“Are you mad at me?” you asked, gaze fixed on the spot.

Immediately, Bucky rose to his feet and crawled back on the bed, seizing your body with both of his hands.

“No! No, not mad at all,” he mumbled as he sidled up beside you. Pleased to see you hadn’t recoiled, “I was just, uh…missing you, ‘s’all.”

If his men could see him now, Bucky was sure he’d be the laughing stock of all the town. Doting and kind, eyes softened beyond recognition, he just watched you and wanted nothing more than to repair the smile that had ebbed from your face. Come ridicule, hell, or high water, the man was infatuated with his bride—all broken plates and attempted window escapes be damned.

Presently, you brought your hand down to his bulge.

Bucky stiffened but didn’t speak. He wanted you to do this on your own, of your own volition.

“You seem kinda mad to me.” You hardly knew what you were doing. Just rubbing his length and hoping it was something he’d like.

Where Bucky had wanted to see you smile, you just wanted to hear him grunt and whine—maybe grab your hips and beg you to do something, please. You’d never felt any such degree of control, and you suspected Bucky had never not felt it himself. You wanted him desperate.

You were playing a dangerous game, you knew it, but something inside those baby blues said he wanted to do it, too. Do anything for you, quite frankly.

You watched the rise and fall of Bucky’s broad chest and stroked his length even softer.

“James.”

“Uh-huh?” His mouth hung open with a gentle grunt, fighting every instinct to buck into your touch.

At last, you squeezed his shaft and prodded him on. Let your head drift closer to his so his lips would graze the apple of your cheek, and just when you sensed he wanted a taste, you tilted your face toward his own,

“We haven’t even kissed since the ceremony.”

Bucky stared blankly at you, enrapt with the pulse of your fingers. You could tell he was aching to move.

“Oh yeah?” he murmured.

You nodded a wordless affirmation and slid sharply back in bed as Bucky lunged after you. Your hands flew from his pants to the plush mattress behind you as you shifted—or, rather, scrambled—back in place and felt your husband climb over you hungrily.

“That what my wife wants?” he murmured, frame slotting tight between your legs.

You nodded again, and had only to suck in a breath before Bucky was devouring your lips. The kind of flushed, frantic, filthy kiss that would’ve doubtlessly wrought looks of horror on every face at your wedding had he grabbed you that way after the declarations of ‘I do’ had been spoken.

You loved him like this, impassioned and a bit unhinged.

His tongue worked his way past your lips and scoured every soft, fleshy inch between the insides of your cheeks before he took your face in his hands, kissing you roughly.

Something hard and throbbing nudged your sex, and suddenly you were whining in his mouth. Wrapping your legs around his waist.

“Ah, honey, don’t,” Bucky groaned, visibly straining to contain himself. When you dug your heels even deeper in his back, the groan that followed from him was hoarse and guttural.

“I thought— I…fuck,” your husband turned his head to curse as you grinded your hips up to his. You had to bite back a smile.

“I just wanna do what married people do,” you murmured coyly, pretending not to see when Bucky shot you the most red-hot, wanton look he’d imparted all evening.

“Yeah?” Like a kid in a candy shop the size of Sears.

Bucky took your face in his hands once more and made sure to scan your expression for any shred of doubt. On finding nothing there, he sat panting, half-disbelieving and half-contemplating all the wretched things he wanted to do to you. You squeezed his sides with your thighs and just hoped your husband knew what to do, because, in truth, you didn’t have the first fucking idea.

A few dry, clinical terms flashed before your mind’s eye, along with your mother’s bleak depiction of what treatment lay in store for a woman on her wedding night, and as Bucky started to work his belt and his pants off, you just hoped he wouldn’t be cruel.

He couldn’t be, right? He’d only mowed down a hundred men and dismembered dozens more, you were told, but surely a set of eyes this soft, caring, and kind couldn’t belong to a monster. You let him lift your hips and shimmy your panties, garter belt, and stockings down your legs, and when he returned, you tried your best not to betray the thoughts in your head.

Bucky hadn’t been with a virgin for as long as he could remember—maybe ever. His own ‘deflowering’ an ancient relic of his boyhood and the multitude of partners since then a mere flurry of nameless faces, he sincerely couldn’t recall a time when he’d asked, or cared, whether the woman beneath him had her cherry intact. He didn’t suppose it could be too different, as he peeled the last pieces of your lingerie set off your body and saw you seemed perfectly ready. He ran a finger between your folds and felt you shiver with what looked like excitement. Piece of cake, he thought, smiling.

No doubt he would take great joy in making you his own. His bride, his wife, an unblemished beacon of light in a life as sordid as his, looked perfect spread before him. You would adjust to his size. Bucky trailed the head of his cock up your slit and coated himself in your juices, and just when he’d bracketed his other arm around your head on the pillow, you let out a small sound.

“Are you sure it’ll fit?”

Bucky fisted his length and pressed the tip to your entrance.

“Uh…yeah. Yeah, I think so.”

He hadn’t yet met a woman who wasn’t able to fit him.

“Okay.”

Somehow, your voice sounded even smaller, head lodged between pillows and the crook of Bucky’s elbow. You felt small. Frankly, it didn’t seem like your husband was quite computing the worries that were pervading your brain, but you decided he knew best—your mother had assured you that husbands always did—and when Bucky first pressed the head of himself to the seam of your cunt, you hardly even whimpered.

You watched his brow furrow above you. He tried to go further.

Your folds were as soaked as he’d ever seen a woman’s, your hole practically pulsing with desire, and somehow, he couldn’t push in.

Bucky snagged his lip between his teeth and braced himself with the aid of the headboard, taking your hip in his other hand. A breath sounded on your lips the second he adjusted, and shortly thereafter, he felt your gaze on the same place he was watching: the spot where your bodies were trying to connect.

His features darkened at the prospect of failing, or even appearing incompetent to you in the slightest. He’d done this hundreds of times before, why wouldn’t it work?

When he felt your eyes trail back up his body and study his face—maybe wondering why her new groom hadn’t gotten around to thrusting into her yet, he thought—he felt a swell of panic and pushed.

Against his better judgment and the feel of your body, he muscled his way through and forced his cock inside. Bottoming out in a single, stabbing thrust.

You seized in pain but wanted to be a good wife for him.

Bucky, too, felt his hips stutter at the resistance your walls were giving him, but then remembered how he’d sworn to be a dutiful husband, and kept going.

Together, you stared anywhere but the other’s face and gritted your teeth for two entirely different reasons—you, in agony, and Bucky, in ecstasy, the latter hoping with everything in him that you liked this as much as him.

Bucky took a tender, if not slightly awkward, rhythm rutting against your body and stared steady at the headboard like he always did.

You were in pain and faced with nothing but his hulking chest, moving up and down, back and forth, over and over again like a goddamn seesaw from hell while it felt like your insides were presently being torn to shreds.

Who fucking enjoys this? you wanted to wail, but feigned a moan instead, raking your nails down Bucky’s back, Why isn’t he looking at me? Why isn’t he touching me?

Your walls involuntarily clenched around him, and he swallowed a moan.

Just think of baseball, beer, math, the Roman Empire, anything to keep from busting right now, Bucky told himself as he clenched his jaw and fought to maintain his pace. Your pussy just felt so. fucking. good.

Beneath him, you had tried and failed to fight back tears. The burn was just too much; the longer he thrusted, the more your walls contracted, and confusingly, stupidly, it seemed like he was using you. Your mother was right, most likely, that sex was just a means to an end for men like Bucky, and your husband didn’t care about your pleasure at all. You fought hard to keep the waterworks at bay, that one thing you hadn’t wanted Bucky to see, but eventually, the tears were flowing freely.

You stifled a sob that your husband mistook for a moan.

He fucked you even faster and felt a grin start to twitch at the corners of his lips when you made a sound that seemed consistent with pleasure.

“Feel so fucking tight,” Bucky grunted, about to lower his gaze to your face for the first time since he’d entered you, “So nice and tight and w—hey, hey, baby?”

He stilled inside as soon as he saw that you were crying. Took your face in his hands and almost couldn’t believe the sight of your tear-stained cheeks beneath him.

“What’s wrong? What happened?” he asked, scanning your face for any signs of harm.

You just shook your head and tried to brush him off.

“Keep going, I’m good.”

Bucky seemed angered at the suggestion. He brought your face closer to his and stared almost reproachfully down at you. Then he paused a beat and swiped one of your cheeks with the pad of his thumb.

“Am I hurting you?” he asked.

“N—”

“Don’t lie.”

You squirmed a bit and winced. That was answer enough for Bucky, and he slowly pulled out of you.

“Aw hell.”

The two of you glanced down to see a blooming red spot on the comforter. Bucky rubbed the blood in disbelief.

He’d gone too far. Again. Hurt something inside of you that couldn’t be fixed with a kiss. While you struggled to sit up among the pillows, Bucky was running a hand through his hair and cursing himself up and down.

“Why didn’t you say something?” he scowled.

“I didn’t wanna interrup—”

“If I’m making you bleed, you stop me, for fuck’s sake.”

“Well you seemed to be having a pretty good time!”

Bucky didn’t need to tell you in words what was painted on his face; he was pissed off and probably bound to slip off the bed any second, when your tears started welling up again. Then he eased off, remembering he was more mad at himself than anyone else, and slid closer to you. He tried pulling you into his chest, but you didn’t budge.

“C’mon,” you said, grabbing his wrist, “Let’s keep going.”

Bucky eyed you incredulously.

“Nuh-uh.”

“Uh-huh,” you insisted. He shot you a glare but didn’t protest when you guided his hand between your legs.

You were spread back open for him in no time. Still stinging like hell and ready for another go. Bucky almost couldn’t believe it.

“My headstrong wife.” He managed a smile before kissing the crown of your head, and kept right on kissing that spot no matter how far his fingers were traveling.

“You owe me two orgasms, remember, Mr. Barnes?”

It seemed Bucky’s boastful claims of late were in fact the furthest thing from his mind as he crawled back over your body. He pried your knees apart and left just enough room for his frame, taking his fingers to your folds and rubbing in light, gentle circles.

The bleeding had stopped. What little remained was long forgotten, and duly, the pain from recent memory was slowly but surely purged with every flick of his thumb. Bucky planted an arm next to your head and kept touching you there until your face relaxed completely.

When he chanced a finger inside, he was careful not to rub so much as plunge in quick, shallow motions, and at the first signs of pleasure, press light and tender kisses on your skin.

“If it hurts at all, you tell me.”

He sounded stern as he inserted another finger, but really, the man was all putty in your hands, wanting to please you and tease you in any way that he could.

When you told him faster, he sped up; you gripped his hair and said slow down, he did the same. He curled his digits in time with every whimper and moan you made and took care not to be too harsh on your sweet spot.

The only time he paused was when you looked up and asked him point-blank: could he fuck you sweet and gentle now?

Bucky paused. Swallowed.

The man would’ve screwed you six ways to Sunday if you asked him; that wasn’t the problem. The only traces of hesitation remained where your eyes said something different. Even as he shuffled between your legs at your behest, aligned his cock with your entrance, and felt a wave of desire wash over him, he pressed his forehead to yours and searched your glossy gaze once more.

“You sure about this, bunny?” he murmured.

Your heart melted at the name. You couldn’t deny you were frightened, and perhaps a bit worse for the wear after your last attempt, but his words were a comfort, his hand on your cheek a welcome gesture. When his thumb grazed your lips, you kissed it and nodded.

“Alright sweet girl,” Bucky said, tone laced with affection.

This time, before pressing the head of himself inside, Bucky caught your lips and kissed you softly. Rubbed himself up and down your slit—paying extra attention to your clit—and coated himself completely before trying to penetrate you again.

Your cheeks flushed, and you kissed him harder.

“P-please, Bucky, fuck me,” you murmured against his mouth, eliciting a small grunt from him.

“Yeah? You want your husband’s cock inside you, doll?” He kept the pretense of teasing, but really, he was just trying to make sure you wanted this as badly as he did. By the blissed out look on your face and the soft, ceaseless squelching noises produced by your arousal, he got the message pretty quickly.

He breached your folds with just the tip at first. You both felt your muscles contract. Instead of blindly pushing ahead like he had before, Bucky trained his gaze on your face and watched for any signs of discomfort.

“Everything okay, bunny?” he hummed as he brushed a few strands of hair from your face.

You were half in awe of how attentive he was, and doubly impressed by the stretch that followed—like a pinch, but nothing like the pain you’d felt before. You peered up at your husband and squeezed his shoulders.

“It— it doesn’t hurt this time,” you said, breathless.

Bucky could’ve caved at the sweet, innocent expression alone—like you were pleasantly surprised this hadn’t caused excruciating pain—and his lips moved down to pepper your cheeks with kisses again.

“Doll, I’m so sorry.”

The sounds and sighs of your pleasure beneath him, along with the words telling him it was okay, really, he hadn’t meant to do it, all made him feel even guiltier for having hurt you in the first place. It took him some time assailing your face with tiny, apologetic kisses before he even thought to feed you another inch.

When he finally plunged himself deeper, it wasn’t without your express permission; even then, Bucky feared he might split you in two.

The whole time he eased himself inside, he was moving his gaze between your face and the place between your two bodies—watching you open for him and take him inch by inch. He rubbed his thumb over your clit when you whimpered.

“Doing so good for me.”

“Stretching so nice for this cock.”

“My beautiful, beautiful wife.”

Every syllable of his praises flooded your head like honey. Feeling him stretch you out, fill you up, and rock you softly with his first shallow thrusts, all while talking you through it, had your mind ablaze and near-euphoric.

Pleasure practically searing your veins, you didn’t even hear yourself, or really mean to say it, as soon as you did.

“This doesn’t feel dirty at all.”

An epiphany to you and a puzzle to Bucky.

“What’s’at, honey?” He was still rutting his hips and slowly picking up speed. Your husband groaned when you clenched around him and pulled him even deeper—before you realized what you’d said.

Your cheeks flushed.

“I— I was always told sex made you dirty. This feels—” you stopped to swallow a moan when Bucky grazed a particularly sensitive spot inside you, “pretty nice.”

‘Pretty nice.’ Your husband couldn’t help the smile twitching at the corners of his lips as he leaned down to kiss you. He wrapped his big, muscly arms around you and pulled you closer to his chest.

“Makes you dirty?” Bucky said, disbelief evident in his tone before his smile broke into a grin, “Baby, you’re the cleanest, sweetest thing I’ve ever seen.”

He didn’t let you endeavor to protest, just buried his face in your neck and pressed teasing kisses all over the skin while he continued to pump in and out of you. He knew to keep hitting that spot, too.

You were drowning in whimpers and kisses when Bucky brought his lips to your ear.

“Doesn’t make you dirty at all,” he assured you, “Just makes you my wife.”

You clawed Bucky’s back when he sped up a little, and you felt the pleasure soar to even greater heights when he propped your legs above his shoulders—a brand new angle for him to bend you like a pretzel and fuck you good.

“You take this cock too nice to be dirty,” he gritted his teeth and continued to soothe you just how he knew you liked it, “Such a good little wife, sucking up every inch of me like you were made for it.”

Your lips parted in a soft ‘o,’ feeling him plunge the depths of your cunt like he never had before. Bucky slipped his thumb in your mouth while he held your face.

“That what you are, bunny? A good girl?”

You nodded your head and sucked his thumb, feeling yourself fucked dumb as you did. Bucky loved that blissed out look in your eyes.

“Good girl for daddy?” he cooed.

Your ankles trembled around his neck as soon as he said it. You nodded again, yes, you were, and felt a light coil start to form in your lower stomach as Bucky kept pounding you and pushing his thumb between your lips.

Then, with a pop, he plucked the digit from your mouth and brought it down to your clit. He started soft at first, but before long he was rubbing vicious circles on that little bundle of nerves, watching you come undone before his eyes and clench around him even tighter.

“B-Bucky,” you whined, fisting the sheets underneath you both as you squirmed.

“Mhmm?” Your husband pretended to be oblivious.

“I w— I’m gonna—” The words could scarcely leave your lips without finding themselves punctured with a whimper as soon as they were spoken. Bucky thrusted harder.

“Gonna what? Cum for daddy?” he grinned, “Make a mess all over this cock?”

Your moans of pleasure more than sufficed for an answer. You nodded and winced, felt your whole lower half seize with a warm and heady feeling, and before you knew it, Bucky’s thrusts were sending you spiraling over the edge, with a wave of bliss following shortly behind. Sounds of skin slapping skin hardly faltered, and Bucky kept rubbing and fucking you all throughout the waves of your high.

Tears sprung to your eyes, and you didn’t care. Your mind was alight with more bright, fervid feelings than you could count or comprehend, and your body washed over with pleasure.

You clung to Bucky and felt him keep fucking you, even as you shrieked against his skin.

“One more for me, honey.”

You didn’t think that was possible. You had just spilled all over him, squeezing his cock like a vice and screaming his name, and now he wanted it all over again? So soon?

Your fingernails sunk into his arms as he continued to rut into you, and you started to shake your head.

“C-Can’t Bucky, I can’t, I can’t,” you sobbed, tears still streaming down your cheeks.

“Sure you can.”

Your husband had his mouth at your ear again, panting as the pace of his thrusts grew faster. He tilted his body slightly forward so your legs were pushed even higher above you—damn near grazing either side of your head—and pounded you relentlessly.

His voice seemed so calm and assured as he spoke,

“Cum for daddy. Show me just how fucking good this cock makes you feel and cum again for me.”

With a command like that, how could you refuse?

You came a second time, hands seizing Bucky's forearms, and screams tearing through your chest as you rode your high impaled on his cock over and over again. The sights and sounds and repeated, pulsing spasms of your pussy on his shaft sent Bucky chasing his release not long after, and you felt a warmth spread inside you.

Your eyes were filled to the brim with tears, your cheeks practically drenched already. As you came down from your high, you started to blink.

But just as you lifted a hand to sop up the moisture, Bucky was leaning over you and into you with the brightest smile. Then he was kissing each wet, salty stain like it was the most natural thing in the world, sponging soft and gentle touches all over the spots your tears had overflown.

It seemed every nerve ending in your lower half was on the fritz, your body little more than mush underneath him, but somehow you managed to catch his mouth as he traversed the skin. You kissed him back, and Bucky drew you closer.

The two of you separated for a second, Bucky’s cock still resting comfortably inside you and his broad frame engulfing you in bed. He paused a beat. Seemed to consider something in his mind before speaking aloud.

“Honey,” he started, unsure of how he wanted to say this.

You peered up at him, curious. His seed had filled every contour and crevice of your aching walls and was just then starting to dribble out of you. Bucky seemed unfazed. He cupped both hands around your face.

“I love you.”

You blinked. No fucking way you were hearing those words.

“What?” You felt too awestruck to say anything else.

“I love you,” Bucky repeated. A smile was starting to tug at his lips, his thumb tracing your cheek while you stared at him in disbelief.

You would’ve liked to speak.

Would’ve loved to say those three little words right back.

In fact, you had just opened your mouth to tell him that, when a sound at the foot of the bed startled you both.

The warm glow of moonlight pouring in from the window panes was your only means to see it. But sight wasn’t worth much at all when a man appeared and pressed the barrel of a gun to Bucky’s temple, letting out a chuckle.

Another man, clad head-to-toe in polished black tactical gear approached from the far end of the room. Bucky gritted his teeth but remained motionless, hearing that man cock his firearm as well. You were surrounded on either side of the bed. Your blood ran cold.

“Sorry to interrupt the fun, Mr. Barnes,” the man on the left spoke so low and gruff he could scarcely be heard.

When Bucky started to stir, the man on the right raised his pistol as well. Curled his finger on the trigger.

“We haven’t even met your beautiful bride.” A set of cruel, glinting teeth turned in your direction. Suddenly, all eyes were trained on you—along with a third handgun, pointed at your head, as another man approached.

“Wedded bliss treating you well so far, Mrs. Barnes?”

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