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theweirdymcweirderson · 3 years

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Pretty - James B. Barnes & Steve Rogers

Author: theweirdymcweirderson

Characters: Reader, James B. Barnes, Steve Rogers

Relationships: Bucky Barnes×Reader×Steve Rogers

Word count: 2110 (these are getting longer and longer, sorry)

Summary: Sexy times with the Super Soldiers.

Warnings: 18+, Pet names, Daddy!Bucky, Captain!Steve (is this a thing?) explicit words, smut, teasing, Bucky Barnes’ fucking arm, chocking I guess, Dom!Bucky, Dom!Steve, so much dirty talk :), fingering, hints to unprotected intercourse, daddy kink (beware: this is my first time writing it), captain kink, sub!reader, masturbation, threesome. Let me know if you find more.

Notes: You may wonder what this is, the answer to that is, once again, I don’t know :).

The gentle light from the candle flickers on the walls, creating soft shadows in the otherwise dark room. You can feel the silky fabric of the robe you’re wearing tickling your skin, caressing it with every twitch of your muscles. Your nerve endings are on fire, crackling on each movement, each lungful of air; your mouth feels dry and you swallow again for the 5th time in the last couple of seconds.

“Look at that. So fucking wet, darling.”

Teeth sinking in your bottom lip, you nod to Steve even though his words are not meant as a question; eyes begging him for something, anything. The way he’s looking at you, the sound of his voice - almost as wrecked as you feel - the words he normally chastises you for falling from his bitten lips, every single thing has more slick gathering between your thighs.

“You like this, don’t ya? Being watched as you fuck yourself?”

Bucky’s voice is darker, smugness dripping from the words because he already knows, but he loves the way you get flustered; the way you look away from his eyes in embarrassment.

His teasing elicits twin groans from you and the blonde sitting next to him. They’re both at the foot of the bed, shoulder to shoulder as they watch with rapt attention how your fingers press inside of your pussy.

Your legs are spread open, knees bent as you lean back on the pillows Bucky has lovingly set against the headboard. They love your eyes on them, get off on having you watch the way you affect them as you pleasure yourself. Steve’s hand moves to the prominent tent in his slacks, palms it for just a second as another guttural groan escapes his mouth at the wet sound of your lips accommodating your fingers.

“She looks good, doesn’t she, Stevie? Pretty pussy peeking through the lace?”

Steve brings his eyes to yours, watches as you plead with him for more. You can tell that if it was up to him alone, he’d already be balls deep inside you, but Bucky enjoys the teasing.

“Fuck yeah, she does. You know she does.”

His sky-blue eyes darken a little more as he turns to catch his best friend’s gaze. They stare at one another for a moment, and then Steve’s eyes glance to Bucky’s lips as they curve up in that grin that never fails to bring either of you to your knees.

A frustrated whine slips out of you when Bucky’s metal hand wraps around Steve’s throat. You feel the green-eyed monster rear up its head at the sight of the black contrasting so prettily against Steve’s flushed skin.

“Wanna fuck her, Stevie?”

“Taste her. She’s so wet, smells so fucking sweet.”

Yes, please. Another whimper, your hips buck up at the suggestions; either of them would be more than welcome since your fingers are not cutting it anymore. You feel Steve’s fingers caressing up your foot, but you know better than to move. You keep still, breath stuck in your lungs as his fingers wrap around your ankle. Bucky mirrors his actions and they jerk your legs apart a little more. You yelp in surprise at the sudden movement.

“Oh, she smells delicious, a’ight. And your face does look real fucking pretty framed by her legs.”

Steve’s hand goes back to palming his dick and Bucky chuckles allowing his eyes to follow the gesture. You would protest at the loss of contact if your own eyes weren’t greedily soaking up the erotic scene before them.

Bucky tsks, metal hand gliding up his friend’s neck to land on his cheek; fingers softly sinking into Steve’s stubbly skin while his thumb caresses his bottom lip.

“You want it bad, don’t ya?”

Steve barely nods, doesn't even need to because Bucky can read it all on his face. His tongue pokes out of his parted lips, tip grazing Bucky's thumb and it's the brunette's turn to bite back a groan.

“See whatcha did, dollface? Got Cap here all wound up for you.”

Bucky's silvery gaze finds yours, and you swallow again at the dryness in your mouth as all moisture keeps gathering south. He smiles at you, all soft and warm, and the complete opposite of his words and the dark promises in his eyes.

“What do you suggest we do about that, hum?”

Your eyes go back to Steve's form, wander over his body, from his chiselled face down to where his hand is still squeezing his cock. You wish you could undress them with your thoughts alone.

Before you can answer, Steve interrupts you.

“Keep fucking yourself, darling.”

Bucky kinks an eyebrow disapprovingly and you realise that sometime, as you lost yourself watching them interact, you’d stopped moving your fingers. Not that anyone can blame you; your boys are just too fucking pretty.

You resume your teasing, because that is all you can really do with your underwear still on, but Steve likes it. He likes to see your skin adorned by the lace as you touch yourself; that's the reason behind it overflowing your underwear drawer.

Eyes apologetic, you push and pull, turning your attention back to Bucky.

“Whatever you want, just...do something.”

Steve squeezes himself a little harder at your breathy voice, and switches hands so that he can bring his left one back on your leg. This time it rests a little higher, grasping at your calf as he eyes your body hungrily.

“Whatever we want? Oh, dollface, you sure you can take it all? Take us both?”

You nod, fingers quickening slightly when your mind starts conjuring up images of what Bucky's words might entail.

“Yeah? Gon let us have our way with ya?”

Bucky's voice is even deeper than before, getting huskier by the second and Steve moans at his words, unbuttoning his pants. Fucking finally.

“Yeah. Yes, Bucky, please.”

They move at the same time, shifting closer to your body and you can finally feel the heat radiating off of them. Steve's hand is now on your thigh, fingers moving along the inner muscle until it quivers with anticipation. He grins at you, all boyish and carefree with a barely concealed hint of mischief.

The black, hard metal of Bucky's hand makes contact with your tummy, forefinger tracing your navel as you marvel at the light reflecting off the gold decorating the arm. Your quick intake of breath pleases him and he leans closer until he’s face to face with your heating cheeks.

“What d’ya need, dollface, huh?”

Biting down on your bottom lip, you let the hand that was clenching the sheets move to find his, fingers wrapping around his wrist to urge him to speed up in his ascent towards your breasts.

“I want you to fuck me. Need it so bad, please.”

“Always so fucking polite, darling. So fucking pretty for us.”

Steve tugs on your wrist and your fingers easily slip from inside you; the panties’ elastic gently slapping back into place. Both yours and Bucky’s eyes are glued to the blonde as he brings your fingers to his mouth and sucks them in, eyes closing in delight when your juices reach his tastebuds.

Heavy breaths mingle in the otherwise silent room until he releases your fingers with a lewd pop, bringing your hand to his chest before letting go of your wrist. He moves then, settles between your parted thighs and that seems to be Bucky’s cue to focus his attention back on you.

“Want Cap’s cock, dollface? Want him to fuck you?”

‘Cap’, you know what that means and you moan your answer, a broken ‘yeah’ that has Steve hurriedly pushing his zipper down and rising to his knees to shove the pants out of the way. Humour is coating the brunette’s voice when he wraps his hand around your throat and a desperate whine slips past your glistening, bite-swollen lips.

“And what about me, huh?”

“Want you too; want both, please.”

Unable to stop yourself, you glance at Steve as he’s unbuttoning his shirt, gaping at the expanse of muscle being revealed and hoping for him to lose the boxers a little bit quicker. He smiles when he catches your eyes, discarding the material aside and grabbing his cock again.

“Gon let Daddy fuck that pretty, little mouth of yours, darling?”

Oh. Stunned into silence, you keep your eyes glued to him until Bucky’s fingers tighten around your neck, effectively diverting your attention; claiming it back as his own.

“Answer him, dollface, gonna let me fuck your mouth?”

“Yes, Captain. Wanna feel Daddy down my throat.”

Both men moan at your words, Steve shifting until his hips are bracketed by your thighs; his cock now free and resting on your panty-clad pussy. He rocks forwards once, creating such delicious friction on your clit that has your eyes rolling to the back of your head.

“Look at you, doll. You just wanna be a good girl for us, don't ya?”

“Uh huh. I'mma be a good girl, Daddy. I'll be your best girl.”

Steve ruts against you again, hands hot on your thighs, using the hold for leverage and pulling your body down as he surges up. Your thoughts scatter all over the place; mouth falling open on panted nonsense and pleas.

“Oh, we know you will. Now c'mon, darling, give me one before I fill this pretty pussy up.”

Groaning your understanding, you clench the sheets in one hand, bringing the other to Bucky's forearm for something sturdier to hold onto as his best friend keeps rocking you back and forth.

“You want that, doll? Want Cap to come inside that tight, little pussy of yours?”

“Oh God, yes! Want it so bad. Fuck, Captain, don't stop, please.”

He quickens his pace, his cock catching in your panties until Bucky reaches over and pulls them to the side, baring your pussy to his friend before bringing his hand back to your throat.

“You hear that, Stevie? Think we spoiled her too much.”

Steve grunts something that you can't quite make out, but Bucky seems to understand him just fine if his chuckle is any indication.

“Bet you want Daddy to fuck your pussy, too. Don’t you, doll? Cause one’s not enough for you anymore, is it?”

You hear rustling and open your eyes to see Bucky stroking himself through his jeans. Without waiting for his say so, you reach over and unsteadily unbutton and unzip them for him. He pulls his cock out and you take over again, thumb collecting the warm precome before you start stroking him as best as you can.

Steve leans over then, his skin hot as it barely grazes your rising chest on each intake of breath. They’re shoulder to shoulder again, Steve’s nuzzling your neck on the right, while Bucky is still upright, leaving room for you to work on his cock.

“Is that true, darling? You gon let Daddy fuck this pussy when I’m done with it? Let him use my come as lube? Is that what you want?”

A fresh wave of slick coats Steve’s cock after he husks the filthy words in your ear; his hand joining Bucky’s around your throat so that they’re both framing your neck.

You groan something intelligible because you’re too far gone; hips thrusting up knowing that you need just one more push and you’ll tumble over the edge. Bucky groans, his fingers twitch against your heated skin before he turns to face Steve.

“Fuck. That’s so fucking nasty, Stevie.”

“Shut up, you love it and, from the way she just flooded by dick, she does too.”

“I do. I do, please Captain. Would be so hot, to have you and Daddy filling me up, fucking my pussy ‘til I’m full and leaking on the sheets.”

You bring your unoccupied hand to the back of Steve’s head, keeping him close to you as his hips rut faster against your swollen clit. Bucky’s free hand wraps over yours and helps guide it as your body begins to turn to mush; all muscles slackening with the fast approach of your orgasm.

“Oh fuck! Fuck, I’m com-”

The words die on a silent scream when you convulse underneath Steve, feeling his left hand clutching your thigh while his body seizes up and a long, drawn out groan leaves his parted lips. Bucky fucks up one last time into your fists, and comes with a soft, almost inaudible moan that sears itself in your brain.

A beat passes, you’ve barely sucked in enough oxygen, before you feel the grips at your neck tightening again.

“Hands and knees, darling, c’mon.”

More notes, cause why the heck not?: Please consider leaving me some feedback? Maybe? You don’t have to, but I’d appreciate it. Thank you for reading in any case :)

As requested: Pretty 2

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dancingintheraindreamingonday · 3 years

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My loyalty can be bought - Chapter 7

Author’s note: The journey is almost over. Maybe two more chapters. Sometimes I want to write thousands of words but that would probably bore you. Thanks to everyone who reads my stories. It means the world to me.

Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5 Chapter 6

„When was this picture taken?“ Bucky, Sam and Zemo, the golden trio, stand in Sharon Carter’s apartment looking at all her illegal paintings. But a certain framed picture got Bucky’s attention. On this picture was Sharon and you. A cigarette was between your fingers and a bottle of Vodka was in the other hand. Your wedding ring wasn’t on your left ring-finger anymore. Instead you wore it as a necklace. You looked different. Your hair was darker than usual and you wore more make-up. If Bucky hadn’t memorize every feature of your body he wouldn’t have recognize you.

„Three years ago… I think… During that time (y/f/n) and I were pretty close but now not anymore. I think that’s a side effect when you are the vice-director of SHIELD. She doesn’t trust me anymore.“

Bucky didn’t know what shocked him most. You being vice-president of SHIELD or you not trusting Sharon anymore. After all, you and Sharon were really good friends.

„She said my loyalty can be bought and that’s not a good character trait.“ Sharon continues talking as she pours herself a glas of whiskey.

Bucky jumps to his feet and pushes Sharon against the wall who drops the glas. „Bucky!“, Sam screams and stands right behind Bucky. „What the hell are you doing?“

„And did you sell your loyalty to the one who kidnapped (y/f/n)? Did you?“, Bucky shouts at her.

He knew it. Right from the beginning when they met Sharon after all those years. Something was off. She’s not innocent

Sharon doesn’t look at Bucky but instead at her mobile phone. Sam follows her gaze, unlocks the phone and finds a voice message of you just a day before the abduction:

„Tell your little friends to stop following me. I don’t like being followed, Sharon. I know the identity of the power broker and I also know that SHIELD is infiltrated by HYDRA again. I’m neither blind nor naive. Why are you working with her, Sharon? I thought you hated Valentina. Why are you cooperating with her? I’m warning you. Leave them alone. Leave my family alone.“

The call ends. Your voice still hard and strong, echoing through Bucky’s mind.

„Where the hell is she? If you want to live you better tell me.“

„She knew how this would end. (Y/f/n) played with fire and got burnt. You really think she’s still the same quirky and naive teenager who just lived for the love of a man. Wake up, Bucky. How do you think she got the job at SHIELD? You still trust her even thought she kept all the secrets.“ Sharon tries to free herself but Bucky’s grip is too strong. „Did she tell you that the first year of being a mother she wasn’t even with her child because of her depressions? She gave the kid to Tony and Pepper. Did you know that? Did she tell you how close she was with Clint Barton? Did she tell you about the huge argument she had with Steve and that they weren’t on speaking terms for 3 years? Did she tell you that she lived in Madripoor for months? And did she tell you that she was with Barton on their criminal missions? No, I bet not. She’s still acting like this weak woman around you but believe me. She’s not innocent.“ Sharon spats in Bucky’s face.

„For the last time. Where is she?“ Not responding to Sharon's accusations.

„I’ll show you because she’s probably already dead. It was her or me and after all she was right about one thing: My loyalty can be bought.“ Sharon’s voice is filled with anger as she smiles at Bucky and Sam wickedly.

Sharon leads the way, a gun is pointed in her back. „If that’s a trap I’ll make sure you will regret the day you betrayed (y/f/n).“, Bucky whispers in her ear.

After a while they walk into a dark building which is guarded with several soldiers with heavy guns.

„They are with me. They wanna see the project.“

As they walk down the hall they see many doors with little windows. Bucky see other men and women in white hospital clothing laying on bed.

„(Y/f/n) is our special guest. She’s in the last room.“

The last room has three more soldiers guarding the door. As they step aside and Bucky, Sharon, Sam and Zemo enter the room, Bucky’s heart drops. There you are. Unconscious and weak. Bucky pushes Sharon aside and walks directly to your bed.

„Love?“, He caress your left cheek with his big hand. „Can you hear me? I need you to wake up. We have to get you out of here.“ He takes the syringe out of your arm and shakes you softly but you don’t respond.

„I’ve brought them here as you wished.“, mumbles Sharon in her ear piece.

The door opens again and soldiers run into the room to take their positions. „What a great day. Killing the winter soldier, the falcon and the vice-director of SHIELD. And this guy.“ A woman with black hair and big silver earrings walks into the room, looking from Bucky, to Sam, to you and to Zemo. „Good work, Carter. Well done.“, she pats Sharon on her shoulder. „You are Ms. De Fontaine. You were friends with Steve. How can you betray his legacy?“, Sam asks disgusted by her betrayal. „The world changes, Mr. Wilson. So does people and people’s goals.“

As Sharon and Valentina De Fontaine walk out of this room, Bucky and Sam, and even Zemo make themselves ready to fight.

„Have fun, boys.“, Valentina chimes as the the door closed.

15 soldiers versus 3 men. Bucky attacks first and then there was utter chaos. Punches, knife stabs and kicks. All you can hear are bones cracking, cries and thuds. Sam is pressed against the wall with no option to escape. „Any last words?“ , asks the soldier who points a gun at Sam. But before Sam could do anything the soldier collapses on the floor with a bullet in his left temple. Sam turns to his right. There is you. You lean against the wall with shaking legs. The gun is still in your hands as you whisper „Asshole“. While Sam and Zemo take the end of this fight as a small break to catch breath, Bucky rushes to you. He hugs you and kisses you dirty hair. „We need to get out of here.“ He grabs your hand as you all escape Madripoor.

Later on the plane, Bucky looks at you intensively. „Why didn’t you tell me?“

You look at him confusion written on your face. „Tell you about what?“

„About everything. You and SHIELD; You and Steve and you and Barton. I didn’t know you were a couple.“ The last part hurts Bucky the most. He feels this green monster inside him roaring out of jealousy.

„Clint and I were never a couple. Maybe a couple of idiots and friends. But there was never more between us. Clint and I lost so much but we didn’t lose the love we had for those who we lost. At that time we were in so much pain and grieve. No, a romantic relationship was something both of us never wanted- not with each other or with anyone else.“, you reassure Bucky. He doesn’t show it but Bucky is relieved and happy.

„There is still so much that I don’t know about you.“

„James, we broke up after you came back, remember? And people don’t really talk with their ex-partners.“

„Breaking up with you was the worst mistake I’ve ever made.“, whispers Bucky just for you to hear it.

„It’s okay, James. I’m okay. We changed. We both did. You changed. I changed. Heck, our whole family and the whole universe changed. And love does the same too.“

„Mine didn’t.“, says Bucky. „My feelings for you never changed. I still love you.“

You smile at Bucky for a while, not reacting to his love confession immediately.

You lean your head against the cold window of the plane and close your eyes. You spoke so softly that Bucky almost missed it you say. „I’ll always love you.“

Chapter 8

Author’s note at the end: Sorry, for making Sharon kinda bad. I love the Sharon in the movies and I love the actress, so it’s definitely nothing personal. Did you notice how much my you-character changed? A few chapters ago in Bucharest she didn't notice that she and Bucky were being followed but now she's more aware of her surrounding. ;)

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#sebastian stan x reader #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barns x reader #bucky x reader #bucky barnes fluff #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes feels #james barnes #james bucky barnes

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steamedlem0ns · 3 years

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Adventures in Goth Sitting Chapter 2: Getting to know your goths dark side.

Part one:

Pairing Bucky x Chubby Powered Female Original Character (Morticia)

Word Count: ~1900

Summary: A glimpse of power has Bucky taking things into his own hands, with a little bit of help.

Warnings: NSFW, Explicit sexual content, dubcon (to be safe), fingering, kinda Dark!Bucky, angst, cursing, drinking, fighting, under the influence of power

Two weeks had passed since the Jumping as I liked to refer to it. Things had, unfortunately and predictably, slipped back to normal. Bucky and I were floating on opposite sides of the universe.

He was sent for a mission three days after and Steve made a point to tell me about his lack of nightmares. ‘Hasn’t happened for more than a night in years, Morty.’

It has nothing to do with me. And that was a hill I’d happily die on.

I sat on the communal couch, legs propped up on Loki as we watched another episode of Goosebumps. Nostalgia was like heroin to the God of Mischief and he was loving this show so far. He’d prodded about my outing with the Soldier but after I smashed a purple tendril into the side of his face he shut up. We’d just fallen into another episode when the sudden silence of our room was shattered.

The doors to the elevator hissed open and out stepped three drunk, loud men. Bucky and Steve had unbuttoned their shirts and Sam had simply shed his. A flask hung off of Buckys belt loop and I laughed.

Turning to Loki, I questioned, “Did you give them that?” He smirked and shrugged,

“The good Capitan said they needed a “boys night” and he said liquor would help. I was simply, helping a friend.”

I smacked his arm and laughed. Mischief, always.

“Morticiaaaaaa!” Sang Steve. The bumbling blonde ran over to the couch and draped himself over the back leaning his head to the side to look at me.

“Show em your pets.” He said. My eyes went wide. Pets. No. He didn’t tell them.

“Yeah, show us your pets, living dead girl.” Sam joined. He hiccuped and gripped onto Buckys side for balance.

“No. Steve, they aren’t pets. They’re a part of me and they’re dangerous. I’m not whipping them out to entertain a bunch of sloshed old men.”

He pouted. Steve Rogers stuck his plump, pink bottom lip out and pouted like a child.

“Please? Well stay back. I told them how cool it looks. Like scary fireworks.”

I relented after several moments of staring at him all big eyes and sweet cheeks.

Loki grabbed my arm as I stood and shot me a look, making sure I was okay with this. I brushed him off gently and he begrudgingly let me go.

“Everyone has to step back and stay back. Steve was wrong,” I walked to the edge of the room near the windows, “they aren’t pets. They’re me.” I glanced at Loki, “Keep them back, please.” He nodded and went to stand, gathering Steve and pulling the other two back toward the other side of the space.

It was like riding a bike, truthfully. Calling my tendrils was just muscle memory, but their impact and power consumption was nothing to joke about. It comes from my chest, deep from within. A cold fire that burns through my very soul, then they come out to play. Long whisps of neon purple dance from my fingertips as they seek to feed.

“They aren’t pets. They feed on impurity, deviousness, and evil. They feed my power without taking a soul. But, arguably their impact is worse.” I let them sing and crawl through the air for a moment, not paying attention to the awestruck group watching. And then I killed them, closed my hands and shut it off. My body crumbled. I fell hard to the marble floor and heaved in as much air as I could. Bringing them out without feeding was too much.

Before I could think again I felt hands wrap around my jaw, tenderly. I looked up to see Loki and Bucky crouched by me, obvious concern etched onto their features.

“I’m okay. It’s just a lot.” I assured them. Bucky braced me against him as he helped me up. They both steadied me as I ambled to the couch.

“Are sure you’re okay, sweets?” Loki asked. He bent, pressing a kiss to my forehead and smoothing my hair. I nodded with a half smile.

“I am. Let me explain, though.” I readjusted on the cushions and pulled a pillow into my lap. Steve and Sam joined us, everyone taking a seat. Loki staying on the floor nearest to me, Bucky on the couch beside me as well.

“I call them tendrils or chicken tenders. They help me when I need it most. They protect me and my abilities and allow me to coax what I need from who I need it. I don’t use them often as they leave the person, empty of all joy and hope. All goodness. I suck out and power their darkest depths at the same time. The tendrils turn them into living buffets of dark energy. Conscience be damned.”

“Do they take a lot out of you?” Sam asked.

“Only if I don’t feed them when they’re pulled out. Like, just now.”

I could see regret and embarrassment cross Steve’s face and he immediately stuttered an apology.

I shook my head, “Its okay. I won’t do it again but at least now if I have to use them in the field you know what they are. I don’t wanna see any of you get hurt because of me.”

I woke the next morning later than usual, having sent a notification to Natasha i would miss our morning session. It was mid afternoon before I emerged from my cave. Dressed in black skinny jeans and a Blackcraft crop top, paired with my black and white converse, I felt confident and cute. I always took the extra time for self care after energy drains, otherwise I’d be a complete bitch. The sun was bright through the windows in the common area, Sam sat at the bar talking to his sister on FaceTime. Scott and Natasha were battling it out on Mario Kart for the last piece of coffee cake and Bucky, Bucky snuck up on me.

He grabbed my hips from behind and yelled my name and I screamed, loud. A burst of purple flared out of my body and I made myself as small as possible. The room clattered to a halt. Natasha booked it to me and pushed Bucky away.

Bucky was just as startled. His chest heaved as the purple mist seeped into his skin. He cold feel cold begin to work it’s way up his spine and he shivered.

“Nat, get Bucky out of here.” I growled. She nodded and began to push the solider from the room. He relented, planting his feet with a horrifying grin.

“I want her.” He snarled. Buckys eyes bore straight through me. The normal glassy seas were tormented by black and purple pulses as the poison sunk into him fully and worked its way through his body.

Natasha shook her head, “Not a chance, big boy. Time to go to your room.” She shoved at him again and Bucky chuckled. He grabbed her wrist and twisted her arm, Natasha grunted.

He muttered to her in Russian and threw her down. Bucky began to stride towards me. My heart raced in my chest as I scrambled backwards. This stride was so much like the one I saw that day when we jumped. My pussy clinched at the thought. He snatched a fistful of my hair and drug me up, pain shot through my skull as I struggled, “Walk.” Bucky shoved me forward and I moved. I wasn’t fighting him. Something in me was screaming at me not to. He marched me to his room, ignoring the screaming of Natasha for Steve to “come get his guard dog before he’s out down.”

His bedroom doors opened much too slowly and he shoved me inside. My palms were sweaty with anticipation and I felt the ache between my legs only grow.

“What. Did. You. Do. To. Me?” Bucky rasped.

“You really scared me. It was an accident. I swear. I would nev…”

“I said, what did you do to me? I won’t ask a third time, doll.”

“It’s like my tendrils but it’s way toned down. It’s like a sparkler compared to a full firework. It uh…enhances darker ambitions and lowers inhibitions.”

Buckys fists clenched tightly at his sides and he huffed.

“Are you okay, Bucky?” I asked timidly. I took a step towards him only for him to step back abruptly.

“Do you wanna know why I stay the fuck away from you?” He asked, not looking up, “it’s because if I don’t, I’m going to fuck that soft body through my mattress and yours. I’m going to ruin you and break you and fucking demolish every single piece of you. And then, I’m gonna stitch you back together and do it again. Forever. Like, my own little toy.”

Holy shit. My breath stopped. Bucky turned to me and tilted his head,

“Oh, doll…you want that don’t you?” He mocked me. Bucky stepped closer and snatched me, flipping me around crushing my back to his body. His metal fingertips bruised at my sides as he ground me into his crotch. His flesh hand wrapped around my throat and tightened. I felt his hard cock beneath his jeans and moaned.

Fuck. I was gonna cave. So hard.

He smirked against my neck and tightened his grip on my hip.

“My little, dirty girl. You want this. You’ve wanted this. Haven’t you?”

I nodded as best as I could beneath his hand.

“Ya know, we didn’t have girls like you back in the day. Not often. And I find, that all you cute, big tittied goth girls -learned that phrase recently - have these lovely Daddy issues. That’s my favorite. I like the little clothes, the black lips, the attitude. But, most of all, I love how fucking wrecked you look when someone finally puts you in your place.”

His metal hand creeped to my jeans button and popped it open, sliding down my zipper. Buckys fingers dug beneath my panties and he cupped my pussy. He growled, squeezing just a bit.

“And chubby girls, god, your pussies are so soft and always so wet. Fuck. I’m mad at myself for shooting down a couple of dames when I was in the army now. If I had known about this,” his fingers slid through my obscene wetness, “I would have said yes. Plus, you’re the best cuddling partners.”

I could be mad at him for half fetishizing my body type and telling me he had a “no fat chicks” rule previously, but people grow. And with his fingers circling my clit edging me closer to orgasm, I could certainly say he was growing on me. Bucky drug his fingers from between my trembling thighs and stuffed them in my mouth roughly. He loosened his grip off my neck and groaned. I felt his cock twitch against my ass.

“God, such a good girl.” He praised.

“Time to be a bad girl though, you think you can do that?”

Bucky asked, kissing my neck and sucking a mark onto the skin.

“Yes, Sir.” I replied, with a dazed smile.

#bucky x morticia #bucky barnes x chubby original female character #bucky barnes fic #bucky Barnes #bucky x original female character #marvel fic #marvel #bucky fic #bucky smut #aigs

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lucky-bucky-boy · 4 years

Text

Mistletoe

Pairing: Peter Parker x Reader

Summary: Peter put off introducing you to the team for a long time, but Tony insists the holiday party at the compound is the perfect way for the team to meet the only best friend they haven’t yet.

Word Count: 2385

Warnings: Christmas themed, more fluff

Tags: @lokilvrr

I do not own these characters. Do NOT repost my fics anywhere without my written permission.

"If you ask me one more time if I'm sure I want to go, I promise I will rip my hair out and you'll have to deal with looking at me bald every day," you huffed out a laugh with only a slight playful annoyance tinging the words as you spoke. Delicate application of mascara, mouth parted ever so slightly to give the steady hand needed to not mess up the extravagant glittery eyeshadow that you'd never admit took three tutorials, four tries, and over an hour to do properly.

"O-okay," Peter's anxious voice flowed through your phone perched on the edge of your vanity. "I'll be there in 15, Mr.Stark had Happy pick me up. Bye, (Y/N/N)."

One final layer of ruby red lipstick to compliment the dress that MJ had helped you select; a beautiful a-line knee length dress, intricate lace dancing across the chest and flowing down each arm, stopping just before your wrists, all in a rich christmasy red. Fixing a small golden necklace around your neck to match the gold of the friendship bracelet Peter had given you, MJ and Ned before everyone went off to college, you slipped on a pair of gold glittery flats to complete the look.

As if on queue there was a small series of knocks against your bedroom door. Grabbing the small black clutch you'd thrown a few things in, you opened the door, smiling at Peter before taking in his appearance.

Being an Avenger had done him well, a new sense of maturity vibrating in his aura. His loose curls had been groomed and shaped up, no doubt a request from Tony for this party. His shoulders more broad, a hint of stubble prickling his chin and jaw, all complemented by the sleek black tux, with a bright red tie that just happened to match your dress perfectly. Michelle's doing no doubt.

"O- uh - you look- you look beautiful," Peter stumbled over the words as he tried his damndest to not stare at any one part too long. There was a faint blush on his pale skin. "Are you ready?" He asked, "Mr.Stark isn't happy that you're my only friend he hasn't met."

A soft giggle played at your lips as you turned your lights off and shit your door, "Sure am, Parker."

"Holy shit, there's even little sodas in here - PETER YOU DON'T UNDERSTAND THEY'RE TINY," a small squeal left your lips as you pulled out one of the tiny cans from the cooler in the limo, Happy sending Peter and amused look through the rear view mirror.

Peter chuckled softly, "I tried telling Mr.Stark we didn't need the limo but he insisted."

"Okay, but seriously, if Tony wasn't already married I'd be chasing after that if it meant I got things like this every day," there was an obvious joking tone to your words but it still stung Peter deep in the gut. Happy sent Peter another look when he caught that hurt puppy look on Peter's face, which he responded with by closing the partition.

You pouted at Peter, "Hey, that was mean," you scolded softly.

"He kept wiggling his eyebrows at me it was weird," Peter whined in defense, causing a string of laughter to fall from you.

"Where's the party at?" You asked, settling back into the seat next to Peter, pressing the small can of soda to your lips, the warm, dim light casting a fairytale like glow over you and Peter was damn sure Tony had changed the lights.

"It's at the compound," Peter answered, pulling his phone out to check the time, anything to keep from looking at you too long. "Mr.Stark said he wanted something more intimate this year. It's a few of his friends, everyone had a plus one, I originally wasn't going to go but he wanted to meet you and thought this would be a good time to do so."

"Ooh wait, so I also get to meet the team?" You asked, feeling the car pull into what you could only assume was the compound.

Peter nodded as Happy opened the door and Peter grabbed your clutch before getting out, holding his hand out to help you. A chorus of thank you's and nice to meet you's flowed between the group before Peter steered your attention to the pristinely white building that was brightly lit. Hundreds of thousands of little crystal lights strung on every ledge, every tree, every bush and branch available. Little white deer silhouettes lined the walkway and it truly looked like a winter wonderland thanks to the dusting of snow still stuck from that morning.

The bustling party could be heard even outside, laughter, chatter, and music vibrating the architecture. Peter opened the door for you, the sounds doubling in volume as you stepped into what felt like a scene out of a Hallmark movie. Intricate decorations and lace, ribbon, and likes strewn across the ceilings, railing and archways. A pop-up bar and serving table off to the side, the home to extravagant drinks and foods you had only ever dreamed of getting the chance to taste. The intimate lighting doubled with the warmth that the endless Christmas music sent through you made your heartbeat a little faster when you remember who you came here with.

Peter's arm wrapped around your waist, leading you towards the back of the room that sat huge round tables. At the center table sat a few of the team members; Natasha with her feet propped up on Sam's lap, Sam who was bickering with Bucky over what sounded like an argument over the best something and poor Steve stuck in the middle of his two friends squabbling.

Peter cleared his throat to get their attention, all eyes turning to him and then immediately falling in you. An anxious, almost embarrassed kind of warmth spread through you as they all analyzed you, Bucky breaking into a huge grin. "Hey Peter, is this the dame you haven't shut up about?"

Sam sighed exasperatedly, "Barnes, for the last time, we don't call girls dames anymore."

"I think it's rather endearing," Nat added, eyes never leaving you, watching as you looked up at Peter with a small look of shock on your face, lips slightly parted. Bucky had undoubtedly caught you off guard with the confession, and Peter was blushing even darker than earlier.

"Peter Benjamin Parker," you said, voice in a heightened, almost comical tone of disbelief, "Are you talking about me again? Do I need to bring out the pictures from summer camp?"

His eyes went as big as saucers, "No no no no, they asked about my friends and I told then about you that's all," his words were rushed, quick to speak in hopes of deterring your threat.

"Sure, if you call gu- ouch, why'd you hit me," Bucky grumbled towards Steve who was sending him a warning look and suddenly everyone at the table caught on. You knew nothing.

Peter watched as your mouth opened to speak but quickly cut you off when he heard Tony talking from the upstairs balcony. His gaze moved upwards, seeing a much less crowded, but still just as decorated area and he grabbed your hand, leading you to the steps. "C'mon. Let's go see Mr.Stark."

Tony was talking to a business friend, a young girl who you could only assume was his daughter hugging tightly to his leg with one arm and a feeding herself a cookie with another. Her eyes moved from the man in front of her to Peter and you and she gasped, dropping the cookie and running over to Peter, who knelt down in preparation to hug her.

She flung her small body into Peter's chest who hugged her and stood, moving to hold her on his hip. "Peter!!!!!! Why'd did you leave? Daddy's being boring. I wanna play with the bobots- Peter who's this she's pretty - and OUR DRESSES MATCH!"

She squealed, causing Peter to laugh softly.

You looked down at yourself and then over at her, taking in the details of her dress and realizing she was wearing a smaller version of your dress. You giggled softly, watching as Peter sat her down so she could twirl to show it off. You knelt down to be eye level with her, "Well, that just means we both have good tastes because we both look very pretty, don't we?" You asked her.

She nodded her head furiously. "Yes! Daddy wanted me to wear gold but I liked this one better. I'm Morgan."

"Hi, Morgan. My name is (Y/N), I'm Peter's friend. We've been friends since we you as little as you."

She gasped softly, "Does that mean you know how to prank him? He never falls for my pranks," she crossed her arms over her chest and pouted some, only causing you to laugh more.

"Of course I know how to prank him," you looked up at Peter to realize that both Tony and him were watching the two of you, the other man from earlier gone. After giving Morgan a small smile you stood, reaching out to shake Tony's hand.

"It's a pleasure to meet you, Mr.Stark." You beamed a bright smile at him, causing Tony to smirk softly and send Peter a look of approval.

"The pleasure is all mine, sweetheart. And please, call me Tony. I'm surprised you haven't freaked out yet, Peter's mentioned a few times that you're a big fan of - well everyone." He said, hand motioning to wave in the direction of where the team was.

You nodded, feeling Peter move back to your side and seeing Morgan find her place at Tony's leg again. "I'm a huge fan, and it is taking everything not to freak. But what kind of first impression would that be," you joked softly.

Tony chuckled, picking Morgan up. "Very true. I'll leave you two to enjoy to party. I think I need to get this stinker another cookie before mommy comes and yells at me." Morgan cheered as Tony moved to take her back downstairs, leaving Peter and you alone.

Leaning over the balcony you used the height to your advantage, observing the party and every one of its inhabitants. Watched people dance, drink too much champagne, kiss and coo at one another. It was almost surreal, the wealth, the confidence, the comfort of the bubbling atmosphere. The feeling of someone watching you pulled you from your thoughts, turning to look at Peter who was watching you intently.

"What is it?" You asked, almost amused, "something wrong with my makeup?"

Peter shook his head, hands fidgeting with the end of his jacket, eyes darting around anxiously before looking back at you. "N-no, actually. The complete opposite. I can't get over how beautiful you look tonight." He bit his lip, and when your eyebrow crooked upwards and a small smirk toyed at your lips he got worried, more anxious than before, "Not that you don't always look beautiful but you just look especially beautiful tonight."

The smile and light laugh that left your tempting lips made him feel he was baptized in cold water, drowning him and filling him with life all at once. "You overthink everything, Peter," intertwining your fingers with his, you pulled him towards the steps. "I want a drink and I want you to show me around."

A glass of champagne and too many horderves later, you found yourselves in the compounds kitchen searching for refuge from the stimulation of the party. The two of you sat on the kitchen island, reminiscing and laughing, catching up for the first time in what felt like an eternity since the start of the semester.

"So, this is pretty much where you live now? No more loud Queens streets to lull you to sleep at night?"

Peter shrugged, pulling off his suit jacket and moving to roll the cuffs of his button down shirt up. "Well, I kinda bounce between here and Aunt May's. Mr. Stark has me taking classes online so I can still work with him and not over do myse-"

A loud gasp pulled your attention to the doorway, Morgan was standing there, holding Tony's hand and pointing at the two of you. "Daddy! Look! They're under the mistletoe!"

Tony chuckled softly, "They sure are kiddo, and what does that mean?"

"They have to kiss!" She exclaimed.

Looking up you saw the bundle of green and read tied around the light fixture and couldn't help but shake your head and laugh in disbelief. "If I didn't know any better I'd believe everyone was in on something," you said and watch as Tony held his hands up in defense and backed out of the kitchen with Morgan in tow.

"Y-yeah," Peter swallowed loudly, causing you to look over at him. "We- we don't actually have to kiss if you don't want to." His voice was soft and nothing more than a mumble and he fiddled with the rolled up sleeves.

"What makes you think I don't want to kiss you, Pete?" You asked, smiling softly, a sudden wave of anxiety wiping over you. "Do you think I'd try this hard for anyone else?" You motioned to yourself.

"You could have come in sweatpants and a tank top and I still would've thought you looked amazing." Warmth spread across you, slightly embarrassed and unsure of what to say, "...Can I kiss you?" He asked.

A timid nod was enough of an answer as he moved to cup you cheeks with his hands, thumbs rubbing over the apples of your cheeks as he took a moment to admire every detail of your face. "I've loved you since we were kids," he admitted before pressing his lips to yours, slow and almost unsure.

The moment he felt your hands on his chest, tugging at his shirt to pull him closer, his actions had more confidence, lips soft and speaking a language you didn't know you knew, filling a void you didn't know you had. You pulled back a little, both of you smiling big and giddy.

"Merry Christmas to me," he mumbled.

"Merry Christmas to us." You corrected, pressing another small kiss to his lips. "And I love you too."

#peter #peter parker #peter x reader #peter parker x reader #peter fluff #peter parker fluff #peter one shot #peter parker one shot #peter imagine #peter parker imagine #spiderman #spiderman fluff #spiderman x reader #spiderman one shot #spiderman imagine #marvel #marvel fluff #marvel imagine #marvel one shot

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jbbuckybarnes · 4 years

Text

Professor Sugar - 4/7

Pairing: Student!Reader x Professor!Bucky Description: Like tons of other students you struggle with finances, but you can’t get any aid since your parents are filthy rich. The system doesn’t care that they broke off contact after you came out as bisexual. There is, however, someone else that cares. The prof of your class on PTSD and trauma. Professor Barnes. Warnings: Financial Instability, flirting with a teacher, feelings, making out, secret relationship, mentions of sexting, dressing suggestive, not beta read.

Professor Sugar Masterlist // Masterlist

Secrets to keep

This time your visit to his office went till after the office hours. You had talked about the rest of your book and he told you a little more about his time as a prisoner of war. It started to get darker outside and your uni stuff was already in your backpack by the door. It was simply too nice talking to him and you had this natural connection to him that made you not want to leave.

You were just showing him the first pictures of your notes that you posted with the help of the editing apps he paid for. „Those look good. Now there are just pictures of you missing on that profile.“ He chuckled. „I wish I had a little camera. Left my old one at my parents’ house.“ You mumbled. „For now the study notes on their own are pretty enough too. Your penmanship is-“ He made a chef‘s kiss with his hand. A giggle escaped you and your eyes flickered over to him where you saw him tense his jaw. „Everything alright?“ You asked a little alert. „Yeah, everything is alright.“ He smiled softly and leaned onto his desk again. „Read a romance novel again last week after we had that conversation.“ He squinted with a smile. „Didn‘t take you for a hopeless romantic, Barnes.“ You threw towards him playfully. „Well, it IS hard to find a novel that doesn‘t make women into a copy and paste kinda deal. I prefer my stories with men and women that have equal personality traits that make neither of them really weak.“ He explained and you nodded along. „Couldn‘t stop picturing you when there was a scene of the female character just kicking someone‘s ass for making a disrespectful comment.“ He chuckled. „Do I look badass?“ You chuckled. „I mean, I can picture you doing it.“ He eyed you without trying to hide it. „Just that?“ You asked with confidence and his eyes flickered back up again. „Is that a rhetorical question?“ He smiled a little playful and smitten. „No, I wanna know.“ You answered. „Well,“ he stood up from the chair and so did you, „It really depends where you want the answer to go.“ He looked down at you. You held his eye contact, „Just tell me what else you can picture me doing...Bucky.“ „A lot of bad things.“ he murmured as you bit your lower lip. „Like what?“ You played a little dumb. Instead of an answer you were pushed against the door and had his lips capture yours. Tasted like coffee and caramel. Felt warm and welcoming. Turned more passionate and dirty as the seconds went on and your hand landed in his hair. His hands grabbed your hips closer before one landed on your back and one on your neck. Only heavy breathing was audible in the room. Nothing about this felt wrong. Not even a little bit. You went apart, looking at each other a little impressed, „This is a secret. And this will only happen outside of the campus. Understood?“ You nodded, „Yes,“ before going in for another kiss.

„Woman, you are driving me crazy.“ He grumbled when you finally decided to not continue making out due to the windows facing the plaza. „It‘s what I aim for.“ You smiled up at him before he held out his phone on a new contact page. You filled it out and saved his number too. With the clearing of two throats you left the college building a few minutes later. Each of you with your thoughts and feelings. *Samantha, you won‘t believe what just happened!* *SPILL!*

Contact: Bucky

Y: *Sooo, do you sext?*

B: *Do you?*

Y: *If you‘d like me too.*

B: *I‘d like to see it with my own eyes first, darling.*

Y: *Aight, Imma go and just fan myself now, cause WOW*

B: „😏”

Red lips, skirt, overknee socks, eyeliner to the sky. You were sitting in the first row the next lesson, biting your stylus while listening to him. His eyes flickered towards you more and more, not stopping his presentation. When a little example video was shown he looked at you with a tensed jaw as you opened your previously pressed together legs. If looks could eat you up, he would right now.

There was a caramel coffee placed in front of you as he sat down across from you in the student café. „You might have fun being a cheeky asshole in class, but I think your grade is a bit more important that distracting me, huh?“ He commented while sitting down. „Yeah, go on and ruin all the fun.“ You grumbled with your head leaned on your hand. „There are like 2 hours a week where you should actually listen to what I say. I won‘t give you any help in regards to your studying beyond what I did until now.“ He explained. „I know.“ You rolled your eyes. „What?“ He frowned confused. „You take the smallest funny thing and make it so unfunny. Let me be a cheeky asshole. That‘s on me.“ You explained and sent him a short suggestive smile. „Well, I want you to do well, cause I see your potential.“ He smiled. „I know, Bucky.“ You nodded before getting out your iPad and he got out his laptop. You didn‘t have any points against him. He was absolutely right and you had no way to hold up against that. The man just wanted you to succeed while not fucking with the system.

A little routine of texting each other, video calls, coffee dates and little cheeky moves in class developed. You liked dressing a little more sexy, he liked to help you with your study notes here and there outside of office hours. But for the most part you both just sent each other endless voice notes and video called each other twice a week minimum. He paid for your coffee, you paid him in kisses in his office. You just liked being in his embrace whenever you two were alone. Nothing made you feel as cozy as those arms around you.

Your sneaky little routines were the best, but it would have to move somewhere else soon. You just had to be closer to him, especially with all the visible undressing with his eyes that he liked to do in his office. You couldn‘t just keep your legs pressed together forever when he looked at you like this.

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you #james buchanan barnes #bucky x you #bucky barnes x y/n #james barnes #bucky x reader #bucky x y/n #the winter soldier #mine #captain america #mcu #marvel #marvel cinematic universe #bucky fanfic #text #professor au #sugar daddy au

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mycupoffanfiction · 5 years

Text

His Favourite Gal: Part 6 A Bucky x Reader Mobster AU Fic

A mob!Bucky x Reader fic

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6

The reader begins working as a waitress at Bucky Barnes’ favourite club in town. Little does she realise that working on mob territory owned by the infamous King of New York, Bucky Barnes, comes with it’s quirks as the reader is slowly pulled into the mobster life.

Warnings: Violence, physical bodily harm, fluff, smut

Word count: Approx 9000

*NOTE* There are POV changes in this chapter, I didn’t see a need to really name or label the changes since it’s obvious in the characters each part focuses on and I didn’t wanna break the reading immersion by putting my own labels in there, the speraters are enough.

Heeeey Part 6 is here! Good lord this one was hard to write. I tried writing this like four different ways before we finally got to the final one, hopefully I’ve done it justice? This is NOT the end! I know it kinda finishes like it’s the end of the series but I promise it’s not!

_______________________

There’s no time for you to react when you’re thrust onto the desk, papers flying everywhere. A hand grips the back of your head and your forced onto the desk, your head hitting it hard as you’re bent over it, your legs being forced out from underneath you. Someone grabs at your arms, trying to force them behind you but you squirm and fight, writhing underneath their grip. Another set of hands slam down on your back, forcing the air out of you as your stomach is shoved against the desk below you and you wheeze in air. Your assailants bind your hands and you’re pulled up roughly by the back of your neck, their fingers digging into your skin and you groan out in discomfort. A rag is clasped to your face but you hold your breath, wriggling frantically until a sharp punch is delivered to your stomach, forcing you to heave for breath. The cloth is pressed against you harshly and you’re forced to breathe in the chloroform.

Everything starts to feel light and tingly, but your body feels so heavy. Every muscle feels like it’s weighing you down and you breathe in slowly, your legs buckling beneath you. You feel arms wrap around you and you start to fade. You try to force your eyes to stay open, but it’s an uphill battle, until eventually you can’t hold them open anymore and you slip into the darkness.

____________________________

“Steve?” Bucky calls out, entering the lit conference room. Steve turns to face him, sighing heavily. “The riot police showed up, our men joined, things aren’t going as expected, we’re losing men. There’s also reports that a group of Hydra’s men had left the fight, they could be up to something.” Steve rubs his eyes, yawning. “Fuck, this whole thing is so screwed up.” Bucky clutches at his hair roughly. “You know who Alexander Pierce is?” Bucky asks, changing the subject. “Yeah. Guy used to run a successful business that he was using as a cover up, right?” Steve nods confused as to why he was relevant. “(Y/n) thinks he’s involved in all of this. She found some compelling connections that lead her to believe he was.” Bucky plopped down in his chair. Steve let out a humph. “He was her father’s business partner and brother.” Bucky went on. Steve leaned against the table, letting out a low groan. “Do you think he’s involved?” Steve asked, rubbing his face. “Yeah, it’s possible.” Bucky nods. “Where is, (Y/n)?” Steve frowns, looking around like he could have missed you standing there the whole time. “Left her down in the archive. She’ll be fine.” Bucky responds, paying little mind to it.

Steve’s phone starts ringing and he looks down to see Sam’s caller ID. “Yep.” He answers. Steve hums a response and puts the phone on speaker for them both to listen. “You’re on speaker, shoot.” Steve sits on the table. “There’s some tactical vans outside but they ain’t ours.” Sam’s voice comes through, slightly grainy. “How many?” Bucky asks. “Two, boss. I didn’t see anyone get out of them, but they look empty.” Sam informs them. “Where are you now, Sam?” Steve asks. “Surveying the perimeter. The system logged the vans arriving so I went to check it out.” He responds. “Think they could be hostiles?” Bucky asks, looking up at Steve. “We’ll check surveillance, do not engage.” Steve orders before hanging up.

“I’ll check the cameras. Get (Y/n) up here, we can’t risk anything.” Steve instructs. Bucky pulls out his phone, reluctant to go all the way downstairs and decides it’s easier just to call you up. The phone rings until it goes to your voicemail and Bucky thinks it’s odd so he tries again. “She’s not picking up, I’m gonna check on her.” Bucky starts to feel concerned; Steve just nods and watches as Bucky leaves the room. Bucky tries your phone again but it cuts straight to voicemail. “Fuck.” He breathes out. He calls Sam and runs to the stairwell as he clutches his phone to his ear. “Yeah, boss?” He answers. “Do you have a visual on the vans?” Bucky asks, becoming breathless as he sprints down the stairs. “Yep.” Sam replies casually. “Keep a constant visual, if anyone else tells you otherwise, ignore them.” Bucky orders. “Got it.” Sam replies, hanging up.

Bucky reaches the floor where the archive is and bursts through the door. The lights are still on but the papers are strewn everywhere. Bucky jogs up to the desk, seeing a small puddle of blood on the wooden surface. “Fuck, fuck, FUCK!” He yells, his voice echoing. “Yeah Buck?” Steve says through the line. “Search the cameras for (Y/n), now Steve!” Bucky shouts, grabbing a fistful of his hair as he looks around frantically. “Shit okay, what’s going on?” Steve asks. “I think someone’s taken her. I told Sam to keep a visual on the vans outside, I gotta go.” Bucky talks hurriedly as he sprints out of the room, his eyes flitting across the floor and walls for any sign of blood. “(Y/n)!” Bucky shouts, his voice reverberating off the corridor walls. Silence fills his ears as Bucky starts to panic, his heart races as he runs down the hallway in the direction you most likely went.

Bucky keeps his pistol ready in his right hand and his phone in his left. Running down the corridor, he keeps an ear out for anything as he scans up and down the walls and floor on his way through for any clues. His phone buzzes and he picks up immediately. “Five hostiles heading for the vans.” Sam reports. “Do they have (Y/n)?” Bucky asks. “One of them is carrying someone, can’t see who it is.” Sam explained. “Fuck. Engage.” Bucky orders. “But boss-.” Sam argues. “Engage goddammit!” Bucky yells, tearing through the hallways to the nearest exit as he hangs up and calls Steve. “Steve, get to the east entrance immediately, five hostiles, possible kidnapping.” Bucky tries to sound calm, but he absolutely is not calm at all.

Bucky reaches the fire exit door, bursting through, the vans are just leaving, gunfire hitting the bullet resistant windows from above and Bucky raises his gun, shooting out one of their back lights, watching as it hangs off the back of the van. Steve rushes out beside Bucky, panting as he watches the back of the vans driving away into the distance. “I shot out the back light on one of them, should be easier to follow them on the cameras.” Bucky informed; his voice much darker than usual. He was sure they had taken you and he was going to do everything in his power to get you back. “Sam, tail the vans.” Bucky shouts up to him.

“Buck, there’s not much we can do right now, we have a literal war happening.” Steve argued. “Are you serious? They have my girl Steve! They have (Y/n).” Bucky slams his fists down onto the desk. “This is useless, I’m going to find her myself.” Bucky throws his arms up in frustration. “Buck.” Steve tries to stop him. “Bucky.” He strides towards him, raising his voice as Bucky leaves the room. “What if they hurt her? What if they kill her, Steve? I can’t lose her.” Bucky went from angry to scared as he felt a lump in his throat. “Fuck I can’t lose her. I’ll never forgive myself if anything happens to her. It’s my fault. I just left her down there like an idiot.” Bucky stressed. “You could have just told me the report over the phone, then I would have never needed to leave and she would still be here.” Bucky paces the floor. “Bucky. We can’t help her if we’re stressing out. Breathe, take a deep breath in, loosen up. We’re going to go back in there and search the cameras for the vans alright?” Steve tried to keep his voice as calm as possible. “Alright.” Bucky nods, swallowing thickly before taking in a deep breath.

Steve and Bucky both put in ear pieces to communicate easier with their teammates while they look through camera feeds from across the city. “Hey boys.” Nat’s voice comes through, crackling from the poor signal on her end. “Hey Nat, how’s it looking out there?” Steve asks. “Better than before, we’ve got it under control here, I’m heading back to HQ.” She replies. “Good, we need your help Nat.” Bucky cut in. “Why, what’s going on?” Nat asks. Steve sighs as he cracks his neck. “(Y/n)’s been taken. Sam is out trailing them but he’s lost visual so we’re looking for the vans on the cameras.” He explains. “What?” Nat nearly shrieks. “Any leads?” She keeps her voice calm. Bucky pauses as he looks at something. Squinting, he leans in. “Visual on the van with broken tail light.” Bucky announces. “Sam, did you catch that?” Steve follows up. “Loud and clear.” He responds. “Sending you the coordinates now.” Bucky says. “They look like they’ve split the vans up, we’re going to have to find the other one.” Bucky sighs heavily. “It’s okay, we’ll keep looking.” Steve reassures.

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You start to become aware of things again. Your senses still feel dull as you slowly come to. You open your eyes, squinting. Your eyesight is less than perfect, everything looks blurry and dark, although you’re sure the darkness is the room and not your eyes. Your hands are bound but you barely have feeling in them since the restraints are so tight. You can feel the hot sharp pain of the rope biting into your skin. You realise you’re not sitting or lying down. You’re suspended. A heavy, cold chain harness is caged around your torso and it’s hanging off some kind of large metal hook above you. Your senses start to come back and your vision clears, you let out a low groan at the pain in your stomach. You hurt and ached all over, not to mention the pain from the tight, cold chain digging into your flesh that was holding you up.

Looking around, you realise you’re in some kind of lofty, spacious but bare room, the windows are large and old, only single glazed. Looking at the old red brick bare walls that surround you, you try to get a better idea of where you are. It’s only when you study the old wooden door on the far right side of the room that you recognise the empty room. This was your childhood home. It had been completely stripped bare but you recognised the unique panelling on the door, the ornate swirls and patterns, you knew them like the back of your hand from the years of living in this house.

The door creaks and groans as it’s pushed open a bit, the other side is left in a dark shadow. “Ah, she’s finally graced us with her presence.” You hear the smug sounding voice, but you don’t see who it’s coming from. “Did you sleep well, darling?” He asks, voice peaking a little at the end. He steps through the doorway and into the room; he looks as smug as his voice sounds. Alexander Pierce. You almost gag at the sight of him, a creepy smile spreading across his lips as he stalks towards you. “I’m surprised you worked it out all by yourself. My boys told me what they heard before they brought you home.” He says smoothly. Jesus Christ, how are you going to get out of this one?

“Welcome home, darling.” Pierce watches you eye him silently, you feel a pit of disgust in your stomach as you look him over. “You’re a sick bastard.” Your voice cracks mid-sentence and you tremble your words in rage and annoyance. You appeared angry, but inside you were terrified. “Not quite. I’m your uncle dear. Perhaps I should have clarified before our little reunion.” Pierce makes little sense as he rattles on, mostly speaking in run on sentences and trailing off. “Why are you doing this?” You interrupt his ramble and Pierce pauses, looking up at you with disappointment. “Oh, I’m just talking to you dear, we haven’t gotten to the real meat of our reunion yet.” He laughs darkly, stalking a bit closer to you.

You lock eyes with Pierce as he approaches. He takes each step slowly as if to see how much he can terrify you with the suspense. “You’re too smart for your own good, so here are the rules.” Pierce spoke quietly, his voice low and deep. “One, you do not speak unless spoke to.” He took a step closer. “Two, no complaining, no arguing and no protesting, that includes silent protest.” Pierce takes another step closer. “Three, you do not ask for things, they are given to you as and when. You do not eat until you are given food. You do not sleep until you are told you can. You do not move from a spot until you are told.” He starts to sound aggressive. “Four, no contact with anyone or anything, that includes your metal armed freak of a boyfriend.” Pierce reached to his side and pulls out a knife slowly, letting it scrape loudly along the plastic sheath, and pausing to let the blade sing quietly when he pulls it out entirely. “And five, if you are punished for anything or you are forced to do something, you do not make a sound. You do not beg, whimper, scream or cry.” He’s close enough now to reach out and touch you. “Do you understand?” He asks. You nod, afraid to speak. “Do you understand? Yes or no?” He bellows. “Yes.” You squeak out. “You will address me as uncle.” Pierce growls, slapping you sharply across the face and you try your best to hold in your whimper, breathing through the pain and biting your lip as the sting radiates across your cheek. “Yes uncle.” You correct yourself. “Good.” He smirks, gently trailing the blade across your leg.

“I don’t plan on you ever going back to that disaster of a mob family. I don’t think they’d miss you anyway.” Pierce twirls his knife between his fingers. “No, I have much larger plans for you, dear.” He smirks, testing the edge of the blade against his fingers. “First, you’ll be living here, this is your home now, lovely isn’t it?” Pierce waves his hands about as he spins, looking around the room as if there was furniture there. “Second, you will be taking my name, no more of this (L/n) business.” He scoffs and you double take. “W-what?” You choke out. “Did you not hear correctly? I said you would be taking my name. Listen up!” He smacked you across the face and you desperately held in a whimper. Take his name… As in marry him? Nononono you can’t do that. God it makes you feel sick just thinking about it. “And third, I don’t want that pretty little head of yours worrying about whether that Barnes character will come after you, I will have him eliminated.” He spoke as if he was protecting you. This guy was insane. Fuck, how are you going to get out of this? “I suppose it’s time I gave you some space to settle in then dear.” Pierce smiles at you before backing away and walking out of the door, slamming it hard behind him and you start to wonder if you’re the one who’s insane or if it’s Pierce.

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“Sam and I have arrived at the location at an old port warehouse.” Nat’s voice was clear in Bucky’s earpiece. “Keep a visual, see if they have (Y/n).” He ordered. “Roger that.” Sam responds and the line goes quiet. “Any lead on the other van?” Bucky asks, skirting around the desk to Steve. “Nothing yet, Buck. Pulling back the reinforcements from the district in Brooklyn. The police have it under control since their riot units arrived.” Steve reported. “Good.” Bucky sat down on the edge of the desk. “We’re gonna find her, Buck.” Steve reached forwards, wrapping his hand around Bucky’s and squeezing. “God, I hope so Stevie.”

“Visual on the hostiles, boss. No sign of (Y/n).” Sam’s voice breaks through the silence and Bucky drops his face into his hands. “Keep a visual for now, make sure she absolutely isn’t there before you do anything.” Steve answers for him. “Fuck.” Bucky groans into his hands. “C’mon Buck, help me out here, help me look for something.” Steve pulls out the chair next to him and Bucky slowly sits beside him, letting out a gruff sigh as he plops into the chair. “What would (Y/n) do if this was the other way around?” Steve asked, trying to add a new perspective. “Shit, I don’t know, she’s smart. She’d come up with some kind of strategy to find me or something rather than just searching endlessly.” Bucky reclined in his chair. “Exactly.” Steve said coolly. “If she’s with Hydra, with Pierce like she suspected, they’d be hiding out somewhere not obvious right? Probably somewhere hidden in plain sight I bet.” Steve scratches at his neck while his eyes are glued to the screen. “Sam and Nat said the other van went to a Brooklyn warehouse. What if that’s just one of their hideouts?” Steve started looking at the coordinates Nat had sent over for their location and Bucky sits forwards, looking at the map. “What if they just purposefully split up to confuse us?” Bucky ponders, looking at the screen as Steve clicks around at the satellite images. “Mhm. I suppose that’s possible, especially since you shot out the tail light on one of ‘em, they might’ve thought we’d use it to track them and split them up.” Steve thinks out loud and the two men look at each other.

“Got any feeds on other parts of the Brooklyn dock area?” Bucky asks, leaning forwards on the desk. Steve silently pulls one up and moves the screen for Bucky to see better so he can click through them. “Uh Steve.” Sam’s voice comes through the comms. “The warehouse is a Hydra weapon storage. (Y/n) is not here. Confirmed, she is not here.” Sam speaks clearly through the line. “Alright, Buck what are we doing about that?” Steve asks as he kicks back in his chair. “Buck?” He glances across at Bucky who in leaning in close to the screen, squinting at the tiny image of a vehicle. “I don’t know, set charges or something, you do it Steve.” Bucky waves him off as he takes more time to study what he’s seeing and Steve stays silent, observing Bucky. “I think I found the other van.” Bucky points at the screen, leaning back from it. “Sam, Nat, how close are you to the coordinates I’m sending you?” Bucky speaks into the comms. He waits for a moment for them to receive them. “Short drive, we can be there in ten minutes at most.” She responds. “Go there, stake it out, we need to be sure this is where (Y/n) is. Do not engage.” Bucky orders, staring intently at the screen.

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“Darling?” You hear Pierce calling from outside of the door and your blood runs cold. He enters the room and looks up at you with surprise. “Ah, there you are.” He points at you. It’s not like you were able to go anywhere. “What can you tell me about Barnes’ group?” You were still suspended, everything ached even more now than it did before. Your wrists burned from the rope and you were sure you would have chain link shaped bruising all over if you ever got out of this. “I asked you a question, answer me woman.” Pierce raised his voice, the sudden outburst scaring you. You weren’t going to tell him what he wanted but you were terrified of the consequences. “He didn’t involve me in his business, he just brought me along, I was just a waitress.” You lie. “Just a waitress.” He scoffs. He walks behind you and you swallow thickly, anticipating what will happen next. “Don’t lie to me, (Y/n). You know what happens when you lie, don’t you?” He asks, gripping you around the waist from behind. “Answer me.” Pierce says gruffly, trailing his knife along your clothes as he moves around you. “Yes uncle.” You choke out, trying not to let yourself sob as you feel the sharpness of the blade drag along your clothes, catching on the threads of your t-shirt.

Pierce comes around the front of you, knife still in his hand and he twirls it around his fingers. “Tell me, without lying this time, about Barnes’ business.” He gets too close for comfort and you can feel his breath on you. When you take a bit too long to answer, he reaches up and smooths his hands along your skin. “Maybe we should try something else, maybe scaring you with knives isn’t enough.” Rumlow traces the blade across your stomach and up to your chest, lifting your shirt as he went, stopping just below your bra and he slowly digs in the end of the blade. You take in a sharp breath and hold it, desperate not to make a sound as he pushes the blade into your skin. You can feel your skin release around the blade and you try not to yelp at the sting it causes. You feel your hot blood slowly trickle down your torso. “Definitely not enough.” He laughs darkly, pulling away and wiping the blood off his blade.

Pierce walks to the side where the chain you’re suspended on is held in place. He pulls it off the wall hook it’s wound around and lets go, dropping you to the ground and you bite your tongue to keep quiet as you hit the hard wooden floor with a deafening thud. Pain shoots through your side where you landed, specifically your wrist, which you’re sure is fractured from landing sharply on top of it with all of your weight.

“There, now that you’re on the ground, perhaps we can have a little more fun.” Rumlow stalks towards you, watching you eye him cautiously as he walks around you like a predator teasing it’s prey. Your breathing staggers and you feel the panic swelling in your chest. Pierce leaves your line of sight and you are almost scared to breathe. He suddenly comes down on top of you, straddling you and his knife is pressed up against your throat and you look at him stunned as you try not to move in fear of being cut with his blade. Pierce repeats his question, running his fingers over your exposed skin and you struggle against him. You want to cry, scream, spit at him, kick at him, stab him until his blood runs cold. “Please.” You let the word slip passed your lips and you clench your eyes shut. “What was that?” Pierce leans in pressing his stubbled cheek against yours. “Say that again for me.” He drawls in your ear and you let the tears flow from your eyes, suppressing a sob. He hums at you and you repeat yourself. “Now, I specifically said I didn’t want to hear you beg, but.” He pauses, dragging the knife down your chest, you can feel some of your skin opening where he digs in the blade. “You sound so good when you beg.” He chuckles. Pierce grabs your right hand; you want to cry in pain from your damaged wrist. “Beg and I won’t break your fingers.” He commands. “Please, please don’t.” You squeak out. “Not enough. Beg.” He positions himself to break them. “Please, please stop, please just stop.” You cry out. “That’s not good enough, dear.” He tries to sound sultry but you just feel sick and in one swipe while you voice another beg, he breaks two of your fingers and you cry out, screaming in pain. He whistles out at you and his blade traces lightly across your heaving chest. “Do I need to repeat my question?” Pierce chuckles, pressing his knife against your throat and you shake your head.

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“Boss, (Y/n) isn’t here, but this does look like a base of operations.” Sam’s voice came in, crackling slightly over comms. “We could find out where she is if we could just-.” Sam begins but Steve interrupts. “Barnes said not to engage, Sam.” He says sternly. “Wait, Steve, wait. What were you saying?” Bucky cuts in, prompting Sam to continue. “There are hostiles in the building. We could see if we can find some information inside.” Sam suggests. Steve and Bucky share and look between them while they consider it. Bucky was willing to do whatever it took to find you, while Steve was also willing to do this, he was a lot more measured and level headed than Bucky. “This could be a good call Steve, most of their men are in the attack.” Bucky thinks out loud. “Yeah Buck, but what if whoever has (Y/n) catches wind of this? What if they move her? We’ll have little hope of finding her quickly enough if she gets moved.” Steve stresses, clenching his fists slightly. “It’s your call though.” He sighs, locking eyes with Bucky.

Bucky pauses for a moment to think it over. “What if we just send Nat in? She’s the least likely to get caught, especially by herself.” Bucky tries to convince Steve, or himself, he’s not sure which. Steve can’t help but agree, but keeps that to himself, only blankly looking over at Bucky. “Nat, do you think you can find some intel alone?” Bucky asks. “No problem, Barnes. Just give me the word.” She replies. “Do it. Sam keep watch and engage if needed.” Bucky confirms, pushing away from the desk on his chair and standing up. He hears agreement from both agents as he paces up and down the room anxiously. “We’ll find her Buck. If anyone can find some information, it’s Nat.” Steve tries to reassure him, but Bucky is beyond the point of needing reassurance, nothing at this point feels like it will reassure him, nothing except for his gal.

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So far you’d refused to give up any information at all, Pierce had beaten, stabbed and cut you, but you still wouldn’t talk about it, at least not without sarcasm and dismissive comments, which only got you more hurt, but you didn’t care, you weren’t going to let it go that easily. “You want to know why I did it?” Pierce’s voice breaks the silence as you fidget. You’re now tied to an old wooden chair, that groans every time you shift on it. “Why you did what, uncle?” You almost spit out the name at him, trying to keep yourself composed. There’s blood running down your features, down your neck and soaking into your shirt. There’s blood slowing draining from you from your recent torture and you’re starting to sweat and tremble. “Why I killed my brother and his wife.” He chuckled. “Your father was always the favourite. He always did things the way father liked; I always came in second even though I was first born. I could never live up to him.” Pierce clenched his fists. “I had a successful business, but no one gave a shit.” He sounded like he was about to cry. “You manipulated people to get a successful business. I saw what you got jailed for and I bet it doesn’t end there.” You frown, using his past against him. If he really needed you, he wasn’t going to kill you. Pierce stared blankly at you for a moment, almost in disbelief until he suddenly burst out laughing. It was forced laughter, but it slowly became natural as he willed himself to laugh in your face at your response.

“So you were jealous sibling. That’s what my dad died for?” You scoff. That wasn’t a good reason to kill someone, not in your books at least. “No just that. He was making deals with that Barnes family.” Pierce grumbled. Bucky had said that all of your father’s things went to his family, maybe he knew Pierce was the proverbial ticking time bomb. Maybe he foresaw this happening. “He gave everything to them, didn’t even leave a single coin for me.” Pierce crossed his arms. “I bet you got the whole fortune.” He poked you roughly with the end of his knife and you grunted slightly as it pricked your skin. “No, actually. He didn’t want me to know about the mob, so I didn’t get a single dime.” You said, somewhat smugly. You didn’t want Pierce to have the satisfaction that you could be of any significance or worth to him. “Darling, you are but a pawn to me. Leverage in it’s finest form.” Pierce said through hooded eyes. “You will not be my wife, but my bargaining chip.” He laughed. You wait for him to elaborate, but he doesn’t he just stares at your with those cold, empty eyes and that deranged smile.

A knock came to the room door and Pierce sighed, closing his eyes. “Enter.” He says sternly, standing up from his position in front of you. “Some of Barnes’ men have been seen at the warehouses.” A tall man, fairly bulky and dressed in all black, including a face mask spoke in a deep, quiet voice as he entered. Pierce looked over at you and smirked. “Looks like it’s time to have a little fun.” He chuckled, looking down at you. “Take her outside.” He waved his knife at you before walking out of the room.

You’re pulled free from the chair and as your in the clutches of a single man, you consider taking him out, wondering how easy it would be to get out of Pierce’s clutches alone. You were injured, not terribly so, but badly enough that you would not survive long without help if you were out there alone. For now you’d have to play along with whatever game they were playing. “Hurry up.” The guard spat at you, yanking on the excruciatingly tight rope around your wrists. You winced in pain, following the guard, his hand pulling on your bindings as you went.

As you’re yanked across the landing of the house, you take in the dilapidated interior. It brings memories forward as you look across at your old bedroom door, the blissful childhood you’d had, completely unaware of the dealings your father was making, the risks he had with running a mob, the connections he had, all while you were safely at home, living a seemingly normal life. It was a lie, but you weren’t angry about it, he did what he had to, to protect you. Maybe he knew Pierce was a threat. There was one thing you did know, was that your father clearly didn’t want you caught up in the mob since he had given all of his money and assets to the Barnes family after his death.

“Dismissed, join the rest of the men outside.” Pierce waves about his knife as he makes his guard leave the house, leaving the two of you alone. “You have a choice, dear.” Pierce approaches you but you take a step backwards. He huffs in response to your rebellious action and pinches the bridge of his nose. “You are really trying my patience.” He growls. “Either you tell me about Barnes’ business and I’ll hand you back to your prince charming in exchange for the things he inherited from your father.” Pierce walks towards you, holding out his knife, pointing it at you. “Or you can keep being an evasive bitch and I’ll just end it all for you now.” You look at him like your weighing your options, when really, you know you’d rather not give anything up at all. “Looks like you’re going to have to kill me.” You sigh, tilting your head slightly. “Now I really hoped you weren’t going to answer with that.” Pierce groans. “Too bad. I’m just another notch on your belt, one more person’s blood on your hands. Once I’m gone, what chance to you have to get anything from Barnes? Even if you killed him, you wouldn’t get anything. You don’t know what that man has up his sleeve.” You’re mostly bluffing, but Pierce doesn’t know that. “Shut up!” He shouts, lunging for you. You can barely move with the rope bindings and the chains around your aching body, the constant drained feeling. You were weak, you wouldn’t be able to fight him, you knew that much. But you could try.

You collapse to the floor with all of Pierce’s weight on top of you. Kicking and thrashing at him, you wriggle about underneath him. His hands clasp around your neck and you struggle for air as he slowly squeezes. Suddenly, the pop of gunfire is heard and you almost sigh in relief at the sound, you just hoped that whoever was shooting Pierce’s men, didn’t die. “Dammit!” Pierce shouts, squeezing tighter. You force in a long breath, wheezing as you struggle against him. You finally manage to slip your knees between you and Pierce, pushing him back with as much force as possible and you gasp for breath as his hands are ripped from your neck. Heaving in breath after breath, you splutter as you slide across the floor. The front window is shattered as bullets whiz through, the glass impacting on the floor near you.

Pierce comes straight at you, knife in hand, lunging down at you, but you roll to the side. You use your feet to kick up broken glass at his legs and you shuffle backwards, ignoring the sharp pain of glass digging into your skin below you. You’re both thrown off guard when one of Pierce’s men is thrown through the open window and lands with a heavy thud, blood immediately draining into the floorboards.

Pierce comes at you, his knife driving down into your side as you attempted to move away from him and failing. You let out a loud scream as the serrated edge of the blade tears through your skin and there’s a sharp burning sensation in your side when he pulls out the blade. You gush hot red blood; it sears against you cool skin and you cry out in pain from the throbbing in your side. You hook your legs under Pierce’s and pull as hard as you can, sending him toppling to the floor, dropping his knife in the process. You scramble for it, Pierce hits his head in the fall which slows him and he groans out, clutching the side of his head. You grab at the blade, hurriedly taking it into your shaking hands and you hack at the rope with what little movement you can achieve with your hands, the blade digs into your fingers but you don’t have time to adjust your grip.

You manage to free yourself as Pierce comes for you, pinning you down underneath him. You force your hands out from behind you, kicking at him as you do and you grab at the hilt of the knife, plunging it into his neck. Blood spills down onto you as you pull the knife free and push Pierce to the side as he clutches at his wound and you straddle him. The front door is thrown open and you let out a blood curdling scream as you drive the knife down into the base of his throat. You look up to see Bucky, Sam is at his side and you can see Steve behind them.

You breathe heavily as you drop the knife, your high of adrenaline coming down as Bucky races towards you and you let out a sound, a whimper that turns into a sob. You’re covered in blood, not just Pierce’s but your own as well. “Bucky.” You cry out, hot, desperate tears running down your cheeks as you feel a gush of blood from your stab wound. Bucky bends down next to you and you collapse into his arms, the chains around you clinking as you do and Bucky cradles you, pushing the harness off you before he holds you tightly. “Oh god, sweetheart what did they do to you?” Bucky sounds like he’s on the verge of tears and you weep out loudly, a sob wracking through your aching body. “I’m here sweetheart. We’re here.” He whispers to you, taking you in his arms and lifting you with him. “I’ve got you doll.” Bucky reassures as your adrenaline high comes down and you start to feel delirious from the blood loss. “He tried to…” You sob cuts you off. “I know sweetheart, I know. You’re safe now.” Bucky reassures you. You sound weary as you phase in and out and Bucky holds you tightly in his arms, one supporting your neck and back and the other under your legs.

The warmth of Bucky against you made you feel alright, just for a moment. The way he softly spoke to you, reassuring and gently kissing you now and again as you waited for the paramedics to arrive. The way he held you and cooed at you. The way he distracted you while Steve applied a painful amount of pressure to your stab wound and you cried out into his shoulder. Your Bucky was here, he was trying to be strong for you, but you could see through his façade, much like you knew Steve could too. You knew he was torn up on the inside.

You start to feel absolutely drained of energy as soon as your adrenaline wears off and you become limp in Bucky’s grasp as he carries you. Fading in and out of sleep, you get snippets of what is going on. Bucky is constantly reassuring you; his touch is welcome when you stir from your sleep and each time he’s stroking your hair, smoothing over your skin or holding your hand.

You become aware of being in the ambulance and the paramedic by your side. You panic momentarily when you don’t see or feel Bucky but he’s there, he lets you know when his deep voice graces your ears and he tells you he’s still there.

And then you’re in the hospital, but you’re barely awake and everyone around you is moving quickly, talking in rushed voices as you’re wheeled around on a bed at running speed. You catch a glimpse of Bucky running alongside your bed, holding your hand and you squeeze his as much as you can, which isn’t very much at all.

Suddenly when you wake, it’s quiet, save for the soft beeping in the background. You don’t feel so delirious anymore. You felt a lot less pain than before and you felt like you’d been asleep for a while. You slowly open your eyes, flash backs to being suspended in a warehouse when you do, but you’re relieved when all you see is a hospital room. Bucky is laying on the sofa to the side, fast asleep and you wonder how long you were out for. You look down and see your hand and wrist are bandaged and you have a brace around your wrist. You can feel a bandage around you middle and other patches of gauze and butterfly bandages on the cuts you sustained. You reach up with your left hand for your face, your cheek feels swollen from where you’d been punched and you run your hand down your sternum where the knife was driven in and it’s all dressed. Lastly, you feel around the gash on your side, it feels tight and sore, which indicates you’ve been stitched up. Your stomach hurts like hell from being kicked, but you assume it’s all just bruising.

“Bucky.” You speak up, breaking the silence of the room. He stirs a bit and you smile at his sleepy face, a little scrunched up and his hair messy and wild. “Bucky.” You repeat his name and he wakes fully, looking across at you and grinning when he sees you’re awake. “(Y/n)!” Bucky sits up and moves over to your side, rubbing his eyes sleepily and yawning. “Sorry, perhaps I shouldn’t have woken you.” You feel guilty, the poor guy must be exhausted, neither of you even got a full night’s sleep before this all started. “No, sweetheart, god, I’m so happy you woke me.” He smiled down at you. “How are you feeling?” He asked, keeping his voice soft and low. “Better, still in pain.” You reply smiling up at him, taking in his sleepy features.

“I missed you so much.” You’re hit by a wave of emotions and as soon as the words leave your lips, you’re overcome with sadness and joy all at the same time. “I was so scared.” You weep, reaching for him and Bucky carefully pulls you into his arms. “I know, sweetheart, I know. I’m so, so sorry.” He kissed your forehead and peppered the undamaged parts of your face with gentle kisses. “Please don’t apologise.” You cry out, holding him with your undamaged arm, gripping his shirt with your hand. The two of you cry to each other, kissing and holding one another for a few minutes while you let your emotions run their course. You cup Bucky’s cheek with your hand and he looks into your eyes with so much love and adoration. He moves closer and your lips slowly touch and you tilt your head slightly, letting Bucky move his lips against yours. Tears slip down your cheeks and you can taste the saltiness of them on your lips. You breath in a pained sob and Bucky moves away slowly, his gentle blue eyes locked onto yours as you both drink each other in.

Days later you were grabbing at Bucky’s hand as he helped you out of bed. Steve had brought you some clothes to wear and Bucky slowly helped you change into them. You slipped off your hospital gown and Bucky held out your top for you. “Put your arms out for me, doll.” He spoke quietly. When you didn’t, Bucky stopped and looked at your line of sight, seeing you look at yourself through the open bathroom door in the full length mirror. You turned to see the full extent front on and you gasped when you saw the purple and yellow chain shaped bruising all across your torso. “Do you want me to close the door?” Bucky asks. You shake your head. You need to see it. You study your face, your cheek is red and still slightly swollen, you have cuts of varying sizes all across your face. Your throat has score lines from Pierce’s knife being pressed up against it and you feel the ghost of the blade drawing across your skin. You let silent tears roll down your cheeks as you assess the damage. “Can you close it now, please?” You ask, looking away from the mirror and Bucky nods, moving over to push the door closed.

Bucky helps you get dressed and he walks you through the halls of the hospital. You beamed when you saw Steve getting out of the car to greet you both and you immediately went to hug him, squeezing him tightly around the middle. It felt so good to be back in the arms of the people you trusted the most. Steve held you gently, terrified to hurt you while you hummed with happiness. Bucky placed your bags in the boot as you got yourself comfortable in the back seat, saying an excited hello to Sam who was sitting behind the wheel and he turned back to squeeze your hand.

Realisation hit you as Bucky got into the back seat next to you and all of your excitement to leave the hospital left you. “Where am I going to go?” You ask, looking between the three sets of eyes that all turned to look at you as soon as you spoke up, your voice full of worry. Bucky sighed and sat back in his seat. “I’m sorry about your apartment, sugar. I figured you could stay with me, for a while at least. If you want I can put you in one of the apartments we use as safehouses.” He suggests. “No, going to stay with you sounds nice. I don’t think I want to be alone.” You shake your head. “Anything we can do to make you feel comfortable while you heal, doll?” Bucky asks as Sam pulls the car out of the parking space. “I’m scared to be by myself, for now at least.” You say, you’re not sure what they can do about that, but it’s your main fear at the moment. “We can arrange to have a rotation of people around, if that makes you feel better?” Bucky suggests. That sounds nice, at least while you recover. You were feeling very jumpy and paranoid after the events of that night and you weren’t ready to leave it all behind yet, the trauma of it all still weighing heavily on your shoulders.

You finally got to Bucky’s house, the beautiful 1920s structure was a sight for sore eyes and you longed to be in its walls, take in the beautiful antique décor, feel the comfort and safety of its structure. Knowing there was a strong security system and safe rooms inside made you feel much better already. Knowing you would be greeted by Bucky’s butler, Jarvis, a welcome friendly face who was trained security personnel who would be there day and night made you feel secure.

You got out of the car, Jarvis holding the door open for you and you lowered yourself onto the gravel below, taking in the fresh air and the quiet atmosphere of the place. You and Bucky said goodbye to Steve and Sam and you both followed Jarvis indoors, where you finally felt at ease.

You spent some time reading and drinking hot drinks, enjoying the luxuries Bucky provided in his home. Despite it being a luxury house, he had certainly made it a home and you loved the warm, comforting feeling it provided as you settled in.

Laying next to Bucky in bed, you took in a deep, calm breath and let it out slowly. “You know, Pierce wanted to marry me.” You broke the silence. It had been a few days and you were finally talking about it. “That’s…” Bucky paused, unsure of what to say. “Disturbing? Yeah. I know.” You huffed. “I’m so sorry about what happened, sugar.” Bucky said softly. “You have nothing to apologise for.” You shook your head and looked across at him, the soft glow of the beside lamps illuminated his handsome features. “Do you think you’ll be okay?” Bucky asked. “I’m not sure it’ll ever be the same after what happened, I think I’ll always live with the trauma, but I think I’ll be okay.” You answer honestly, your gaze meeting his. “I hope so.” He sighs longingly. “Sometimes I wonder if bringing you into my life was all just a bad idea. It was selfish on my part and I seem to always put you in danger.” Bucky thought out loud. “You didn’t bring me into it by yourself. I willingly went along with it; I knew what I was getting myself into.” You move to lean up against Bucky, your head resting on his chest and his hand pulling you close to this side. “I know, you’re a tough one, doll.” He smiles across at you. “Your tough gal.” You poke him in the side, smiling up at him.

Bucky rolls over and hovers above you, pressing his lips to yours gently. It quickly becomes a deep kiss and you whimper into his lips. Your body aches, but not in pain, it’s aching for pleasure, for Bucky’s soft, loving touch, for his gentle lips. The way he moves against you and holds you so gently like you could break with one wrong move. The way he looks at you like you are the single most beautiful thing he’s ever seen. “Let me make you feel good, sugar.” Bucky whispers as he presses soft kisses along your neck. “Let me help you feel better.” He murmurs into your tender skin, his hot breath tickling your neck as he works down your torso, leaving trails of kisses over all of your injuries as he goes. He stops at your sternum and his lips ghost over the bandaged wound. Feather light touches tickle your skin as he gently cups your breasts, taking your delicate nipple into his mouth and swirling around it with his tongue, rolling the opposite one between his fingers with such care. He listens to your soft moans as they leave your lips, he wants to show you how much he loves you, how much he missed you and he slowly slides his large fingers into your panties, slipping them between your wet lips and stroking you in gentle circular motions as he works your breasts. Your moans become louder as he focuses on your clit and you buck into his hand, silently asking for more. Bucky kisses down your stomach, fluttering his lips over the nasty gash on your side and he stops at your underwear, hooking his fingers under them and shimmying them off you.

Bucky parts your legs, his hold is firm but gentle, and he looks up at you one last time before he slowly presses his tongue to your core, circling around your sensitive clitoris and teasing it with each flick of his velvety tongue. Bucky’s lips close around your bundle of nerves and he lightly sucks, leaving you nearly breathless as he swirls his tongue around it, eliciting a beautiful string of moans and little noises from you. He listens to the way you react, keeping up the actions that make you moan and gasp the most as he slowly brings you closer to your climax. Bucky hums into your core when you moan out and it sends the most delightful vibrations through you as you get closer. He speeds up his motions, his tongue flicking up and down quickly and he hits you in the spot that has you gasping and gripping the sheets below you. He finally increases the speed and the coil comes undone, your orgasm rushes through you and you shiver with pleasure as you pant heavily, the pleasure loosening your muscles as you relax fully into the mattress.

“Bucky.” You breathe out in a whine, reaching for him and Bucky chuckles. “I’m here, sweetheart.” He smiles as you reach for his clothed bulge. “Not tonight, sugar, let me make you feel good.” Bucky says softly, pulling his boxers down and his erection bounces slightly. You whine as you ache for him, for the friction between your legs. “I’ve got you, sweetheart.” Bucky reassures you as he gently runs the head of his cock between your wet folds. “You ready?” He asks and you nod, humming out in response. That’s all he needs to slowly push into your entrance and you gasp out in pleasure. He pushes in fully and he moves slowly to allow you to adjust until you tell him it’s okay. Bucky moves in and out, gently caressing you with his hands as his lips come down onto yours. He gently bucks into you and your soft moans get lost in his mouth as you move against each other.

You silently ask him to move faster by moving yourself against him and Bucky complies, still careful not to be too rough with you as he slides in and out, adjusting his angle now and again to get the best responses out of you. He moves against you and he can see your orgasm is building. “C’mon sugar, one more orgasm for me.” He whispers and your coil tightens. “Let me see you cum, sweetheart.” Bucky says softly and with a few more thrusts, you’re moaning underneath him as your orgasm peaks and it crashes through you, sending you soaring as your head feels floaty from the pleasure. Bucky follows not long after and he lets out a gruff, low groan as he climaxes and he keeps going for a few more gentle thrusts before he pulls out and collapses next to you.

Bucky cleans you up and you lay next to each other, Bucky facing you and combing through your hair with his fingers. “I love you so much, (Y/n).” Bucky says softly, his eyes locking with yours and you melt under his soft gaze. “I love you too, Bucky.” You reply sleepily. He holds you close to his chest and you fall asleep on him, his gentle heartbeat lulling you into a restful slumber as he strokes your hair and runs his fingers up and down your bare back.

You were safe. You hoped that with Pierce’s death, that you would never fall into Hydra’s clutches again. But most importantly you were back in Bucky’s arms where you were safe, where you felt like you were loved and protected.

And you were home.

________________________

Tags:

@panic-naran @just-a-littlebit-of-everything@stupendousshepherdloverpony @scuzmunkie @sweet-peas-serpent @its-a-disappointment-thaaanks @thedoctorisweirdlyepic @fairislesheets @thejestersgesture @silent-loucidity @cryingismyhobbie @saharzek @that-girl-named-alex@founding-fuck-bois @veganfangirl5 @sebbystanlover-vk@the-omni-princess @pawunclebrother @paintballkid711 @allonszassbutt @mannls

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the-omni-princess · 5 years

Text

Ambushed

Author: @the-omni-princess

Summary:

When a mission turns sour, you almost sacrifice your life to save Bucky. Both of you soon realize that you both have feelings for each other.

Word Count: 2K

Prompt:

“If you touch me again, I'll break your fucking neck.”

Pairing: Bucky x Avenger!Reader

Warnings: Language, violence, minor injuries, minor character death, fluff, protective!Bucky

A/N:

This is for @buckygrantbarnes ‘s writing challenge!!

#buckygrantbarneswritingchallenge

Prompt is bolded

And there are no pronouns for the reader, so any gender can read it <3

[Masterlist] [Link to this story on Ao3]

That’s it. You thought. I officially hate this mission. A simple mission to the outskirts of Narvik, Norway for information hidden in an abandoned Hydra facility, turned into an ambush. Bucky and you stood back to back, sweaty, dirty, both of your guns were out of bullets a while ago so you both were gripping knives. To top it all off, you were currently surrounded by twenty hydra agents, with your comms down. Your last check-in location wasn’t too far off from where you currently were but it would take Steve and Natasha a while to navigate the mountains to even reach the facility in the quinjet. You thought this would be one easy mission with the super-soldier who was constantly in your daydreams. You were very wrong.

One of the Hydra goons took a step forward, towards you, and with quick precision, you launched your last knife, which landed with a slick thud into the man’s throat. “Fuck, that was my last knife. Any ideas on escaping yet, Buck?” you groaned, raising your fists and hoping one of the idiots in front of you decided not to lounge for you now that you didn’t have a weapon.

“I’m starting to think I’m gonna have to teach you how to stop losing weapons, doll,” Bucky teased, despite only having one knife left. Another one of the men lounged for you but made the mistake of being in Bucky’s eyesight. His last knife found a place in the man’s throat, who then proceeded to cough up blood on you as he went down.

“Bleh gross,” you complained lightly, but the situation of now both of you being weaponless and surrounded by Hydra agents was starting to set in. “Remember that one day in training when it was us versus Steve and Natasha and Scott? Wanna use that tactic?”

You heard Bucky chuckle behind you, “Where was that idea twenty minutes ago?”

“Better late than never,” you mumbled. Another agent lunged, apparently, they thought going after two Avengers one by one was a fantastic idea. This time sidestepped, tripping the agent, who hit their head on the concrete below. Suddenly getting the idea one at a time wasn’t a good idea, the rest of the agents jumped towards the two of you. Bucky was managing to toss most of them off, at least you think so, and you were throwing punches to anyone who jumped too close.

Your arm was suddenly grabbed by someone who was most definitely stronger than you. Rather than pull, they pushed, the unexpected move tripping you only slightly, but it opened a window for the several agents surrounding you to grab at you. A swift kick to the back of your legs brought you to your knees, hard against the concrete, as two more agents grabbed your arms, securing you in place with cuffs. The sudden movements were making you lightheaded as you thrashed to get away but a gun cocking and a cold press of metal against your temple made you freeze. You finally noticed Bucky had taken down just about all the agents that had attacked him, then after knocking the last one near him out, he turned on his heel, no doubt about to help you. He stopped dead in his tracks, paralyzed by the sight in front of him, you, perfectly still, with a gun pressed against your head.

“Ah, that’s very good Soldat, I’m glad to see you still haven’t lost any of your abilities.” The man who held the gun to your head spoke in a faint Russian accent, making a chill go up your spine.

Bucky practically growled, his eyes were cold, emotionless, as he stared the man down. “Let her go. Now.”

The man laughed, the vibrations from his chest pushed the gun further into your temple, making a soft whimper escape your lips. Bucky’s eyes shot to you, your eyes were closed so you couldn’t see the pure fear in his eyes. “Aw, does somebody have a crush?” The man pushed the gun deeper against you, another faint whine escaping you, causing Bucky to practically growl. “Well look at that. У актива есть слабость в конце концов.” The sudden Russian threw you off, but as you opened your eyes, now locked onto Bucky, you felt a strange sense of peace. You wouldn’t let these monsters take him back, he didn’t deserve that.

“Might as well kill me,” you turned your head slightly, surprising the man. “I’d rather die than let you have your grimy hands on him.” He slapped you with the blunt end of the gun, the sharp hot pain radiated across your temple, causing you to groan softly, but it turned into a chuckle. You looked the man straight in the eyes, ignoring the blood now dripping from your head. “If you touch me again, I'll break your fucking neck.” You growled softly.

A sick smile lit up the man’s face, “Oh yeah little one? And how do you suppose you do that?”

It was your turn to grin, “You talk too much, and you don’t pay attention to the hands,” you had been subtly picking the handcuffs they placed on you, which now dropped to the floor. You pushed your elbow up, while kicking your leg out, effectively pushing the gun away from your head, and knocking one of the agents behind you onto his face. Bucky, bless his soul, caught the hint, pounced on the man with the gun. He stole the gun, breaking the man’s wrist with a sickening crack. It didn’t take you to long to knock the rest of the agents out. A loud bang against the metal door that trapped you hear caught both of your attention, both of you holding knives, Bucky aiming the gun to the door. It was knocked down, navy blue and silver stepping into the room. Both of you lowered your weapons, “Oh thank fuck its only you Stevie,” you muttered, sheathing your knife and placing a hand against the wound on your head making you hiss as Steve walked in wearing the stealth suit.

Now relatively safe, and ignoring the added presence of his best friend, Bucky turned his attention to you. He swatted your hand away from the wound, grimacing slightly, “Not sure if that was incredibly brave or incredibly stupid. Could have gotten yourself killed, doll.” He gently put pressure on the wound, making you whine. “Fuck, it might need stitches.”

“You’re best friends with the self-sacrificing idiot standing at the door, I doubt this is the worst you’ve seen, Buck.” You mused. “Besides, it was that guys fault for not paying attention to the first rule of magic, always watch the hands.” You did a little jazz hands motion, causing him to chuckle, making you smile faintly.

With Steve watching both of your sixes, Bucky helped you back to the quinjet. Nothing was broken, and although the cut on your head probably needed stitches, it wasn’t too bad. You were sure though that Bucky Barnes, former Winter Soldier, was mother henning you. He sat beside you quietly on the quinjet, cleaning the cut. “It definitely needs stitches, doll. Do you trust me to do them?” he was gently pressing a piece of medical gauze to try to stop the bleeding.

“I trust you with my life, Bucky,” you replied, locking eyes with the super soldier. You both blushed, looking away from each other as Bucky coughed faintly, hiding a small smile as he grabbed the sutures. Neither of you saw Steve and Natasha give each other knowing looks as they watched you two.

“If it hurts too much let me know,” he said softly, you nodded, already gripping his metal arm. If he minded, he didn’t say anything. He stitched up the cut quickly, making sure he wasn’t hurting you. To your own credit, you only winced a few times.

“Bucky?” you asked softly once he was done, biting your lip.

“Yeah, doll?”

“What did that man say? When he was speaking in Russian? I only caught two of the words.” At the mention of Russian, Nat leaned in faintly, wanting to see this scene unfold, wishing she had popcorn. “Aктив… that’s what he called you, as if it was a name. and then слабость. But I don’t know what either of those words mean.”

Bucky sighed softly, throwing away the gauze as he bandaged your cut to hold the stitches together. “Asset… that’s what they called me, even back when I was under their control. And слабость means weakness. He was saying that I had a weakness.” He finished cleaning up, sitting beside you now.

“But why would they think you have a weakness, Bucky? You’re the strongest person I know, and not just physically.” You teased the last part, but confusion was evident on your face. You didn’t notice that now Steve was now invested in this soap opera happening in front of him.

Bucky wringed his hands faintly, nervous. “He was saying you’re my weakness, doll. And well you are. Fuck, seeing that gun against your head didn’t just make me freeze, it petrified me, doll. That if I made the wrong move, you would be taken from me. He was right, I have feelings for you, more than I should.” He confessed softly. Your eyes went wide, the realization that the super soldier you were harboring a crush on for months actually liked you back.

Your grin lit up your face, blush turning your cheeks a darker shade, “You know, I don’t think that’s a weakness. Love is a strength. It’s what makes us different from them. We don’t trade lives, remember?”

He chuckled faintly, chancing a look your way, his heart melting at your smile. “God, now you’re quoting Steve? What happened to no trading lives when you told that guy off? That you’d rather die than let Hydra take me again?”

“I meant it. I would gladly die protecting you, from Hydra, from the world, anything.” You whispered softly, staring at your hands. “I care about you more than I think I should.”

An awkward silence fell in the quinjet, both of you two were too flustered to speak, and Steve and Nat were just enjoying the show, not daring to break the moment.

“I’m sorry that was out of line-“ You started.

“Go out with me-“ both of you spoke at the same time, blurting out your thoughts. Both of your eyes went wide, you out of pure shock and him out of pure embarrassment that he let his thoughts slip. Deciding he had already thrown himself off the deep end, he rolled with it. “Please, doll, go out with me?”

“Like a date?” you whispered softly, the reality of the question slowly sinking in.

He chuckled, “Yes, y/n, like a date.”

You blinked a few times before a bright smile lit up your face, hurting your cheeks. “I’d love to,”

“Fucking finally,” Natasha mumbled, heading to the pilot’s seat, Steve handing her a twenty-dollar bill. Both you and Bucky looked at them in confusion, Steve groaning softly.

“We made bets to see when one of you would ask the other out.” He clarified, causing you to blush and Bucky to groan. “Nat won by a few stupid days, Tony’s gonna be pissed, he lost too.”

“You made bets?! And you knew we both liked each other?” You frowned, leaning towards Bucky as he laughed.

“You’re both obvious, plus the fossils tell each other everything,” Natasha called out from the pilot’s seat.

Bucky turned to you, “Well at least it’s out now.” He kissed your head, brushing faintly on the bandage. “Besides, I’m going to take you on the date of your life.” He promised softly, both of you grinning at each other. It was clear to everyone else that you two that you were both idiots in love, but they had a feeling you two would figure it out pretty soon.

----

Russian Translation (From Google so I’m sorry if it sucks):

У актива есть слабость в конце концов. = The asset has a weakness after all.

----

Bucky Tags:

@cassandras-musings

Check out my masterlist! Please comment, reblog, like, and tell me what you think. For any sorta tag just comment or send me an ask.

#buckygrantbarneswritingchallenge #bucky x reader #bucky barnes #avenger!reader

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buckybabybaby · 4 years

Text

Mr Hollywood (Epilogue Part III)

Summary: Bucky Barnes, an underpaid teaching assistant in a small English village, dreams of a movie career back in his home country of America. He finally gets the break he's always wanted, and if it wasn't for you, his best friend, he wouldn't have been able to take it.

But is that fact enough to save your friendship when it's tested by the pressures of Hollywood?

Pairing: Bucky Barnes/Reader (Gender Neutral)

Word count: 1532

Chapter summary: The peace of normality, for once.

A/n: Probably the last epilogue, but who can say?! I think this rounds if off nicely though...

(If the picture is all blurry, opening it in a new tab in browser helps!)

Warnings: Just fluff.

Previous: Epilogue Part II

Mr Hollywood Masterlist | Main Masterlist

*****

“Do you mind it when Mr Barnes kisses other people?”

You don't have to look up to know Isabella is staring across your desk at you, eager to know the answer. Her younger sister Emilia has also drifted in to your classroom this evening, dragging with her a box full of building blocks, and is currently creating a mini town on your window sill and ignoring everything else, not quite old enough to be interested in gossip.

If you can call it gossip. Even with Bucky's dramatics over the month you spent in America, the paparazzi didn't catch on to anything and you returned to England and your work just as anonymous as you left.

That doesn’t mean, however, that curious little eight year olds can't figure out that something has changed between you and him. Edwin and his wife Ana both work full time, which isn't usually a problem as the two girls attend after-school clubs most days of the week, and even on Fridays when there aren't any running it's still not a problem as there is plenty to keep them occupied while they wait to be picked up. The music room seems to be a favourite of theirs, the lure of bashing around on the drums or piano unsupervised too hard to resist, but more often that not recently they can be found with you.

Isabella's continuing. “And do you make him clean his teeth before he kisses you afterwards?”

You laugh, still surprised at how direct she is. It only took her a couple of minutes to wrangle out the truth about you and Bucky on you the first day back, and so far it seems like she's stuck to her vow of keeping it to herself, in exchange for stories of your time in Hollywood.

She's still talking. “Does his character kiss other people? I haven't seen the show, daddy says I can watch it when I'm a little bit older.”

“Your daddy's probably right,” You say, not answering her other questions.

That doesn't stop her asking, “Will you get married to him now?”

“We'll have to see.”

“Will daddy get an invite to your wedding? 'Cos then I could come too! Emilia's too small but I could come, couldn't I?”

“Don't get too excited, Isabella. Nothing will happen for a few years yet, probably.”

Resting her head on her crossed arms, her brow furrows in obvious disappointment and you feel guilty.

You can't have that. “Tell you what.” Holding out your hand, you offer her your little finger and she wraps her own much smaller one around it with a grin. “When we get married, I'll make sure you get an invite, okay?” She gasps happily, and you add, “And one for Emilia, because I'm not planning on marrying him any time soon so she'll be old enough by then.”

“If you wait a few more years then the new baby can come too!” Isabella's hands clap over her mouth as you both realise what she's said. “I wasn't meant to say!”

You feign confusion. “Say what?”

She slumps back into her seat in relief, giggling quietly when you wink at her.

Then a soft knock interrupts from the classroom door and you look up to find Ana leaning against the frame. Not so subtly you glance at her tummy, trying to see if you can make out a bump, and from the look on her face, she notices.

Isabella and Emilia jump up at her arrival, gathering up their belongings as she comes to perch on your desk.

“I'm guessing she told you?”

“In her defence, it was an accident.”

Ana shakes her head fondly as she watches her oldest collecting her pens and zipping them away in her bag. “We didn't really expect her to not too. We're in the process of telling people so it doesn't really matter, and I'm just so pleased she's excited.”

Her daughters have finished fastening their coats and are hovering by the door, tired now after a long week and more than ready for dinner and bed.

“Thank you for looking after them.”

You whisper your congratulations as you hug her goodbye, waving as they leave, and you've nearly packed up your own book bag when you're interrupted again.

“This place really doesn't change, huh?”

Spinning around, you're met with the most beautiful sight you can imagine on a Friday evening. Bucky, taking advantage of a break between his scenes to visit you for the first time since the summer, is stood in your doorway in the outfit he tends to wear every time he travels, and before you can stop yourself you're skipping across the room and into his arms.

“I thought I was picking you up from the airport?” You mumble against his shoulder.

He shrugs and holds you closer. “Got an earlier flight. So I thought I'd come and surprise you.”

“You're the best sort of surprise I could ask for,” You admit. “If you'd been here ten minutes ago you could've also surprised your biggest fan.”

“Edwin's daughter, 'bella?”

“Yeah. She's first on the guest list when we get married, too.”

He leans back slightly to catch your eye, grinning widely. “Oh, it's 'when' now, is it? Not 'if'? That's encouraging.”

Your smile matches his. “But we'll have to wait until both of her siblings are old enough to attend too, I've made a solemn promise I couldn't possibly break.”

Bucky frowns. “Both her-oh, a new baby?”

“Yep.”

“And you don't want screaming babies ruining your big day?”

“Nope. Well, not ideally.”

“So, three to four years is how long we've got to wait?”

“If you're prepared to?”

Bopping your nose, he slides his lips briefly across yours. “Don't worry doll, I'm a very patient man.”

*****

“He's going to spoil your little girl rotten, I hope you know that.”

Sat on one side of your lounge with Sophia, you watch Bucky on the other side of the room cradle week old Amelia like she's make of tissue paper. The timing of his trip back 'home' is perfect as his baby niece was born just days ago, a much easier birth than her older brother so the whole family's able to come round to your house for the afternoon when she's still so young.

“Well, not rotten,” You acknowledge. “Never rotten, not one of your children, but he's still going to absolutely treasure her like he does Benjamin.”

“I know. I don't really think there's anything I can do to stop him.”

“Nah, you've just got to embrace it.”

“And what about you? Does he spoil you too?”

You flush at the knowing look she gives you. “He tries to.”

Not elaborating nor giving her a chance to pry any further, you get up and saunter over to admire the newborn, sitting next to Bucky on the sofa as Dayton slips away back to his wife, leaving the two of you alone for a minute.

Bucky turns to you. “Do you want to hold her?”

“Oh, er-”

“Here.” He holds Amelia out to you carefully. “Just keep her head supported and she'll be fine.”

“O-Okay.”

Waiting until you settle comfortably, he then passes you the precious bundle. You're tense at first, terrified of holding her incorrectly and causing her pain, but when she doesn't stir in your arms, you sink back into the sofa and watch her sleep. She looks almost exactly like her brother did when he was born, just that the soft hair across her forehead is darker, the same colour as her father as opposed to Benjamin's blonder curls, matching his mothers.

“She's so tiny,” You murmur in awe.

Bucky nods, smiling down at her when she stretches. “But she won't be for long. Which is yet another reason to come back more often.”

*****

It may be October half-term, but with the sun shining down it's warm enough to enjoy the fresh air in the garden, at least for a little while. Benjamin drags himself away from his little sister long enough to offer the chickens some corn, and under the watchful eye of both his parents he hesitantly holds out his hand to them, even after you warn him their beaks may hurt. Just like his dad and uncle, he loves a challenge.

Bucky guides you away from the others, ambling around the edge of the borders as he tells you about his and Sam’s latest antics, finally stopping at the base of the apple tree that holds so many memories.

“I miss you Y/N.”

“I'm right here.”

“I know, but when I'm gone, I-” He pauses, sighing. “I wish it could be like this all the time.”

“Me too.”

“I was thinking, for the next project, I could find a role a bit closer to you. Maybe a British production?”

“You shouldn't limit yourself for me.”

“No. But if something came up...”

“Then that would be very nice.”

“Wouldn't it?”

He holds you tight as he kisses you in a sunny patch under the slowly yellowing leaves, and you know that, whatever comes your way, as long as you have moments like this nothing will ever tear you two apart.

*****

Epilogue Part IV (Final!)

*****

A/n 2: if this is this last part I just wanna thank everyone who read and commented on this over the last eight months! It's been quite a while, so if you've stuck with it, thank you!! Once again I find it hard to let go when I feel like I've built a little safe family around Bucky, but there's always more stories to write, and different ways for him to fall in love with y/n, so watch this space ;)

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky x reader #bucky imagine #bucky barnes imagine #buckybabybaby #Mr Hollywood

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marvelouscaptainrogers · 5 years

Text

Teachers and Lovers

Requested?: Yes

Summary: Reader and Bucky are called in to teach some teen aspiring SHIELD recruits for a week. One students question brings up a confession between the two. That confession leads to an evening together, where they learn each others bodies, kinks, and weaknesses.

Warnings: NSFW!!! 18+. Basically porn with a plot. Smut. Swearing. Daddy kink. Unprotected sex. Dom! Bucky. A lot of talk about cum tbh.

Characters: Bucky x Reader

“Good lord. It’s too early for this shit.” You mumble, sipping your coffee from your chair behind the desk. Bucky is stood behind you, his back against the blackboard as he chuckles.

“Come on, Agent Y/L/N. You’re excited to be a teacher aren’t you?” He Asks. With a dramatic eye roll, you turn to look at him.

“Hardly... Why the hell am I here again? Couldn’t Steve come do this? Jeez.” You say, guzzling more coffee.

It was a quarter past 8 AM, and you were in a new classroom designated for teaching aspiring SHIELD recruits over the summer. You weren’t going to be doing it full time, just until Agent Hill was fully recovered after being injured on a mission. You’re set to be doing it for a week.

Tony knew how much trouble you and Bucky could get into if you were left alone for more than ten minutes, so he thought it was a terrible idea leaving you both in a room with twenty-something teenagers under your watch, but Steve of course is the shot-caller. He knows you and Bucky are rambunctious and mischievous, but he also knows that you both are two of the highest trained individuals on the team, you being trained in the red room, and Bucky being trained by Hydra. Steve had no doubt in his mind that you both were the perfect fit for the job.

“Ouch. Am I really that bad, doll? Come on. You get to hang out with me for eight hours a day, every day this week. Aren’t you excited?” He asks, pinching your cheek playfully. You swat his hand away, giving him a death glare.

“It’s not you that I’m bothered by. Whoever thought it was a good idea to put me in charge of a bunch of kids should probably be fired.” You say.

“Well, first, it was Steve’s idea and he’s in charge. I don’t think he can fire himself, doll. Second, you wanna know why you were his first choice?” Bucky Says. You turn your gaze to him, brow quirked questioningly.

“He said, and I quote, you don’t put up with any BS from rowdy teens, and he knew you’d be the best at the discipline side of things,” Says Bucky.

“Okay. I can understand that. So if I’m handling the discipline side of it, what side are you handling?” You ask with a laugh.

“Me? Well, I am here for moral support first and foremost. And more than that, I’m gonna let you be the bad guy, whip these kids in shape, then I can have some fun.” He says with a smile. You scoff in response, smacking his arm playfully.

“I see. So they’ll hate me but they’ll love you!” You say, and Bucky’s face lights up as he laughs, placing his hand on your lower back.

“Oh come on, doll. It’s not that bad. Besides, do you even care if they hate you?” He Asks.

“No. Not really. If they hate me then that means I’m doing my job.” You say, turning around and seeing all of the kids sat around in their individual desks, laughing and socializing.

“Okay. What time is it... 8:30? Let’s get this show on the road.” You say, placing your coffee on the desk and standing up.

“Alright guys lets-...” You start, not even being heard over the loud voices of the kids. You roll your eyes, glancing at Bucky, who is smirking deviously.

“Oh. Here she comes... Here comes the she-devil...” He says, his voice coming out in a sing-song type of tone. You shake your head with a laugh, turning back to the kids.

“HEY! THIS AIN’T SOCIAL HOUR! Class starts at 8:30! When that clock hits 8:30, you’d better be dead quiet, and have all of your supplies out, ready to get to work. Am I clear?” You Ask. The classroom was so quiet you could hear Bucky quietly laughing behind you, his hand hiding his face.

“I asked, are we clear? I ask, you answer. That’s how that works.” You say.

“Yes ma’am!” They all reply simultaneously.

“Good! That’s what I like to hear. I’m Agent Y/L/N, and this is my co-teacher, Sergeant Barnes.” You say with a smirk as you look over at him. A smile graces his features at the familiar old name.

“We’re gonna be your teachers this week until Agent Hill gets back. Let’s jump right in and get through roll call, then we can get started.” You say. Each student raises their hand as they call out ‘here!’, and you mark off each as you go.

“Peter Park-... Oh for fucks sake... He’s here too? Jesus. Peter Parker?” You call out, hearing no response.

“I don’t think he’s-“

“Sorry I’m late! I’m so sorry!” Peter yells, running through the door frantically. He hands you a slip of notebook paper.

“H-Hi, Agent Y/L/N. I’m so sorry. Mr. Stark had-“

“I’m gonna stop you at ‘Stark’, just sit down Peter. Please don’t be late again.” You say. He nods quickly, shyly waving a Bucky as he makes his way to his desk.

After roll call is finished, you put those papers aside, and your eye catches on one girl in the middle of the class with her hand raised. You look at her as Bucky hands you one of the books for the class.

“Yes?” You Ask her.

“Hey so are you guys together?” She asks, pointing to you and Bucky. You’re taken aback by the brazenness of the question. Bucky scoffs behind you, looking at you, then back to the younger girl.

“I wish.” He Says. Your stomach fills with butterflies as you quietly giggle.

“Your name was Sarah, right?” You Ask.

“Yes ma’am.”

“Well, no. We are not together. Sergeant Barnes just likes to flirt... Now, no more questions unless it’s about something in this book. Let’s get started.” You say, flipping open the handbook and getting the lesson going.

A few hours later, the academic part of the class was over, and it was time for the training portion, for which you all headed outside to the track.

“Okay! First things first, if you’re gonna be kicking ass for long periods of time, you’ve got to have good stamina. So, to get that, you’re gonna start with ten laps. After that, you get a water break before we move on to the next exercise. Let’s go!” You yell. The kids all start running the track, some of them starting off fast, some starting with a jog. Meanwhile, you and Bucky are stood over to the side, leaned against a brick wall. Both you and Bucky are sporting your favorite sunglasses, keeping the sun out of your eyes as you talk.

“So, ‘I wish’. What was that about?” You ask with a laugh. Bucky smirks over at you, then turning back to face ahead of him.

“You know exactly what it was about.” He Says. His metal arm brushes against your flesh one, sending chills all over you, even though it is hotter than sin outside.

“No. No actually I don’t. I’m gonna need you to explain it to me.” You say. He lets out a laugh, his eyes moving to focus on you once more.

“Any straight guy would break his back to get with you, doll. You’re every man’s wet dream. So yeah, I wish we were a thing. But, I know you like your freedom and whatnot so-“

“Hold on, what? Are you telling me you’re into me, Barnes?” You ask, pushing your back off the wall and turning your body to fully face him.

“Any guy would-“

“I’m not asking about any guy. I’m asking about you. Are you into me?” You Ask. Bucky smirks, turning his own body to face yours.

“Yes, Doll. I’m not sure how much more obvious I can be about it.” He Says. You laugh and shake your head, looking back at him.

“You have to tell me this now? I can’t kiss you here because we’ve got twenty something kids watching our every move. And we did just tell them that we’re not together.” You say.

“Yeah... Might be a little confusing if we start making out, right?” He says, smirking down at you as he moves closer. With a hand on his chest, you move away from him, even though you want nothing more than for him to push you against the wall and kiss you like his life depends on it.

“The kids, Barnes. Watch the kids. We’re working... But if you walk me to my room later, I’m sure we could work this out then.” You say, sipping your water.

“You got yourself a deal, sweetheart.”

Later on, at 4:30, class was dismissed. You and Bucky congratulated each student for doing a great job on the first day, before Bucky leads you to the living quarters.

Once the elevator gets to the right floor, you both exit and walk down the hall, approaching your door.

“So, we have no students around and no one to tell us what to do... It’s just us, all alone in this nice big hallway.” Bucky says, looking around the space before his eyes land on you. Your own eyes nearly roll out of your head as you smirk up at him.

“Just shut up and kiss me already, Barnes.” You say. Bucky’s eyes seem to turn a shade darker as he pulls your body to his, your lips coming together in a searing hot kiss. Finally.

His tongue swipes your bottom lip, and you happily allow him entrance to explore your mouth, which also gives you the chance to explore his. With his body flush against your own, he pushes your back against your door, his hips grinding against yours as your fingers move into his hair, gently tugging it. He lets out a low growl at the feeling, turning your doorknob and pushing you inside.

As soon as the door closes, you’re practically ripping his shirt over his head. As soon as his body comes into view, you shuffle on your feet, clenching your thighs a bit, already imagining how it will feel to have his bare chest pressed against your own. Bucky moves closer to you, placing his hand on your jaw as the pad of his thumb swipes your bottom lip.

“My pretty girl. You already look so wrecked and I haven’t even touched you yet.” He says, his fingers moving from your face, down the column of your throat, and over your collar bones. You close your eyes, letting yourself get lost in the feeling of his touch.

All is calm until the loud sound of ripping fabric fills your ears, making you gasp as your eyes fly open. He had ripped your shirt straight down the middle, pushing it off your arms to let the torn article hit the floor. You feel the pink in your cheeks travel down your neck and chest, turning you completely flushed as your breathing grows shallow. Bucky’s gaze has now darkened completely, his hands resting on your bare waist.

“Tell me what you want, baby. You gotta talk to me.” He says, leaning in to suck and nibble at your neck. Your hands rest on his biceps, feeling both the flesh and metal moving beneath your fingers.

“I... I want you, Bucky.” You stutter. You can already feel him smirking against your neck, his teeth sinking into the flesh there, eliciting a hiss from you before he licks and sucks at the area, soothing the sting. He quickly picks you up by your hips and throws you on the bed, catching you off guard. When he crawls back on top of you, his lips are on yours in a second. Parting your legs with his hands, he lays his body between them, and doesn’t hesitate to grind his denim covered member against you. The friction you received was only the slightest bit satisfying, but you couldn’t help the small whimper that fell from your lips.

“God you’re perfect. I can’t wait to taste you baby.” He says, leaving open mouthed kisses all over your chest. When you feel the cold metal of his hand sliding under your back, it elicits a gasp from you. The temperature contrast between his hands is leaving your senses in a whirlwind.

Once he unclasps your bra, you pull it away from your frame and drop it to the floor. Almost instantly, his hands are going up your ribcage, cupping your breasts and massaging them.

At this point, your body is practically crying for more. So much that you fear you may start crying if he doesn’t do something.

“Bucky, please. I need you so bad.” You whine.

“Shhh... Patience baby. I’ll give you what you need.” He says, before leaning down and taking your nipple between his lips. Your back arches almost instantly, feeling his tongue swirling around and flicking the bud as he softly sucks on it. As he releases it, he leans down and gives it a tiny bite, winking and smirking at you as he does, then switching to the other nipple, giving it the same treatment.

As his lips are still wrapped around the pink bud, he grinds his hips against you, hard. Letting you feel the shape and size of his erection even through his jeans and your own.

“Daddy!” You moan, the term falling from your lips almost effortlessly. Bucky pulls away from your skin, looking at you in shock of what you just said.

“Run that by me again, princess. I don’t think I heard you right.” He says with a smug look on his features.

“Daddy...” You say quietly, almost a whisper.

“Ah ah ah. A little louder for me, baby. Let me hear it.” He Says.

“Daddy, please!” You moan. With that, Bucky let’s put a deep, dark chuckle, that you’d swear nearly made your ovaries burst into flames.

“Oh, kitten... You want daddy’s cock? Huh? You want daddy to fuck you and give you my load?” He Says, all the while his fingers are undoing your belt and jeans.

“Fuck daddy, please!” You whine. Bucky pulls your jeans down slowly, pressing his lips to your belly.

“I need you to say it baby. Tell me you want me to fuck you. Tell me you want my load.” He says, finally dropping your jeans to the floor. He settles your legs over his shoulders, his lips trailing over the soft skin on your inner thigh.

“Yes! I want you to fuck me! I want you to cum inside me daddy, please!” You whine. Bucky bites his bottom lip as he moves his mouth maybe a centimeter away from your slit. He inhales a deep, quiet breath. The act of him smelling you seems so taboo, so utterly filthy, and you know your juices must be dripping onto the bed at this point.

“God baby you smell so fucking good. Want me to taste you?” He Asks. You’re so deprived at the moment that all you can manage to get out is a long, ‘mhmm’ in response.

“Pull these legs back baby, hold them for me. Let me see this pretty pussy.” He says. With those words, your skin turns a bright pink, and your core clenches. Your whole body feels like you’re lying in a bed of hot embers with the way your skin is heating up.

You don’t hesitate to quickly pull your legs back, your knees almost touching your chest as your hands hold them in place.

“Fuck. There you go, princess. God you look so good like this. Spread open and ready for my cock.” He says. Finally, after what feels like ages to you, his mouth attaches to your clit, sending shivers over your entire body as your eyes roll back into your head.

“Daddy! Oh my... Fuck! Fuck yes!” You scream. Bucky is looking up at you, with his cock so hard against the restraints of his jeans that it’s becoming painful.

Seeing you completely spread open and ready to do whatever he tells you has opened up something completely primal within him, and he hopes that you don’t ask him to stop, because he’s not sure if he can.

“Daddy! More! Please more!”

Bucky moves his metal arm from the back of your thigh, to your soaking hole, slipping a thick, cold metal finger inside you. Having your legs pulled back allows him to find your g-spot pretty much the second he glides his finger in.

The sound of him slurping and sucking on your cunt only turns you on more. He goes from sucking on your clit, to viciously flicking his tongue over the little bundle of nerves. When he adds a second finger, you pretty much know you’re done for.

“Daddy! G-Gonna cum!” You scream. Bucky hums against you, wordlessly telling you to let go, and once his fingers curled inside you, that’s exactly what you did. Your nails sink into the back of your quivering thighs, and your head falls back against the pillows. Your eyes flutter closed as the heat in your core spreads over your entire body.

Bucky licks, sucks, and fingers you through your high. Once your moans start growing a little quieter, and your hips start to move away from him, he slows his ministrations, removing his fingers from you and giving a few soft kitten licks.

Once he comes up, he’s caught off guard when your fingers wrap around his metal wrist, bringing his fingers up, and you wrap your lips around them. This time, it was Bucky’s turn to feel the chills going up his spine, watching you gazing up at him and cleaning your cum off of his fingers.

Once you’re satisfied with the cleanliness, you release his wrist, and he moves on top of you, kissing you deeply. He nearly moans when he feels your fingers fumbling with his belt, finally getting it open with only a little struggle seeing as you’re not looking. You then undo the button and zipper. Just that bit of extra room is a relief for Bucky, but when he feels your soft, delicate fingers slip inside the waistband of his boxers, his breath hitches in his throat. You wrap your hand around him, and you’re stunned by his thickness.

“Daddy... You’re so fucking big.” You whine against his lips. He smirks down at you, nearly groaning when your thumb brushed over his tip.

“Yeah? You want daddy’s big cock in this pretty pussy?” He asks, every word sounding like poetry from his lips.

“Yes! Please!” You moan. Bucky pecks your lips once more before sitting up, and quickly ridding himself of his last two articles of clothing.

You could tell by feeling him that he was huge, but fuck. Seeing him fully nude, chiseled torso, thick muscular thighs, sculpted arms, both flesh and metal, He was perfect. When he started stroking himself with his flesh hand, you nearly let out a moan. It was better than watching porn.

“Ready for me, princess?” He asks, settling between your legs and gently running his tip over your clit.

“Yes daddy! I’m so ready for you! Please fuck me!” You moan. Bucky feels just how ready you are, seeing you wetness coating his tip as he teases you.

“Who does this pussy belong to baby?” He Asks. The words nearly get stuck in your throat. Bucky doesn’t like the hesitation in your answer, so he decides to take his teasing even further, slipping just his tip inside you, before pulling out and doing it again.

“Come on baby. Answer me. Who does this pretty pussy belong to?” He Asks.

“You, daddy! This pussy is yours! Just please!” You scream.

Satisfied with your answer, Bucky wastes no time before guiding his cock past your entrance, your soaking walls wrapping around him perfectly.

“Daddy! Oh fuck! Your cock feels so good! Daddy, please!” You scream.

“Fuuuuck. You’re so god damn tight, princess. Do you hear how wet you are baby?” He Asks. After he mentions it, you start to notice the audible squelch every time he moves deeper inside you. The sounds only turn you on more, making you even more of a mess than you already were as he bottoms out inside you.

“Fuck. You’re such a good girl for your daddy. You take my cock so well.” He says, finally pulling his hips back, and quickly snapping them forward.

“Ahhh! Daddy!” You scream, your nails dragging down his chest.

“You want it slow? Or do you want it hard?” He asks, pressing a soft kiss to your chest.

“Hard. I want it hard, daddy.” You moan. Upon getting your answer, Bucky pulls your legs over his shoulders for the second time this evening, and he starts ramming into you.

“Oh my god! Daddy! A-Ahhhh!” You scream. You can feel him so deep inside you. When he presses his hand to your lower belly, he hits your g-spot with striking accuracy, and you’re not sure how he could possible expect you to hold on. He feels too good, and he’s hitting every spot just right. Your eyes flutter closed as your head rests against the pillows.

“No baby. Look at me. I wanna see you. Let me see those pretty eyes baby. You’re such a good girl for your daddy. You look so beautiful when you’re getting fucked.” He says, resulting in a long whine from you.

“Daddy! Oh god! Fuck! I-I can’t! I’m gonna c-cum!” You scream. Bucky lets out a deep groan, fucking into you deeper and faster.

“Do it, baby. Cum on daddy’s cock. Let me feel it.” He says, his voice coming out a few octaves lower than usual.

With Bucky’s permission, you can’t hold back your second orgasm no matter how hard you tried. Your body was far too wound up, and Bucky knew it. When he felt your walls fluttering and tightening around him, he nearly fell into his own release, but no. He wasn’t finished with you yet, but when he saw the layers of your cum covering his cock, he had to slow down, both to let you come down, and to fight of his own orgasm that was threatening to approach.

“D-Daddy... Fuck.” You moan, coming down from your high. Bucky pulls out of you slowly, kissing your trembling thighs before moving them off of his shoulders and laying them back on the bed.

“Are you okay baby?” He asks, leaning on to kiss your jawline.

“Mhmm.” You mumble, your soft hands moving over his chest.

“More, daddy.” You keen. Bucky beams down at you, amazed at how fucked out you are, but you’re still asking for more.

“You want more, princess?” He asks, sucking on your collar bone as you nod.

“C’mere.” He says, rolling onto his back and pulling you to straddle him.

“You wanna ride daddy’s cock?” He Asks. He gets all the answer he needs when a playful giggle escapes you and you grind your soaking pussy along his length.

“Yes daddy.” You reply.

“Fuck. Do it, baby. Ride me.” He says, gripping your hips in his hands. He lifts you up, and he watches you take him between your fingers, lining him up before sinking down on him, the wet heat of you welcoming him once more.

“Oh god... Daddy.” You whine, your clit pressing against the neatly trimmed patch of hair at his base. You grind your hips on him a few times before leaning forward, your hands pressing into his chest as you start rocking your hips onto him. Bucky looks down to where you’re connected, groaning at the way his cock glistens when it’s covered in your wetness.

“Fuck, princess. So good. You like riding your daddy’s cock?” He Asks, one of his hands leaving you for only a moment, before landing a hard smack on your ass. He feels your hips tremble against him when he spanks you, and you let out a loud moan.

“You like it when I spank you baby?” He asks, his hips coming up to thrust into you in perfect time with your movements.

“Yes daddy! Spank me again!” You scream. Bucky has no problem giving you what you want, landing another hard smack on your ass.

“God! Fuck! Daddy! Oh my... Ahhh!” You scream. Bucky feels his orgasm fast approaching, leading to him taking matters back into his own hands.

He removes your palms from his chest, pulling your body down against his as he digs his heels into the bed, and starts fucking into you hard, fast, and deep. Bucky watches your face, mouth agape, eyes half closed, and your skin tinted pink and covered in a thin sheen of sweat. He watches you reach you hand between your bodies, rubbing fast circles around your clit as your head falls onto his shoulder.

“D-Daddy! G-Gonna... FUUUUUCK!” You scream, as the heat in your pussy returns for the third time, your nails dragging down his chest.

Bucky feels your body tensing in his arms, and your cunt clamping down on him. He knows it won’t be long for him either.

He knows you’ve finally started to come down when your moans are replaced with whines and whimpers, and you start sucking on his neck.

“Daddy, please. Please cum inside me. I wanna feel it.” You say. Bucky wraps his arms tighter around you, groaning as his thrusts grow sloppy. When he feels your lips against his ear, he knows he’s done for.

“Please daddy. Fill my pretty pussy with your cum.” You whisper. Bucky releases with a loud groan, burying himself in you to the hilt, and painting your insides with thick ribbons of hot cream.

“Daddyyyy...” You whine, slowly moving your hips on him as he empties his load inside you.

“Fuck baby. Oh fuck...” He says, watching as his cum drips out of you, and covers his length.

“Oh fuck baby. You’re dripping. Oh my god.” Bucky Says, his hands gripping your thighs, as he watches you move slowly on top of him.

“Mmm. Feels so good...” You whine, sinking all the way down onto him to finish him off.

“Holy fuck... You’re a fucking goddess, baby. Shit.” Bucky Says, earning that same playful giggle in response as you slowly pull off of him, and remnants of him start dripping from your soaking walls, onto his lower belly.

“Oh fuck baby. You look so good with my cum dripping out of you.” He says, watching as you swipe your finger across his belly, collecting the cream on your finger and bringing it to your mouth, tasting the beautiful combined taste of both you and him.

“Jesus fucking Christ. With this view, you’re about to get me hard again, princess.” He Says. He hears you giggle, before leaning down, kissing his lips.

“Good, then you can fill me up all over again, Daddy.” You say. A deep growl rumbles deep in Bucky’s chest as he rolls you over onto your back.

“If you want it, princess, then you’ll get it.”

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes smut #bucky imagine #bucky x reader #bucky barnes x reader #winter soldier #sebastian stan smut #sebastian stan #bucky barnes fic #bucky barnes fanfic #fanfiction #winter soldier smut #winter soldier imagine #avengers fanfic #avengers #smut

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bitsandbobsandstuff · 6 years

Text

Best. Date. Ever.

Summary: This wasn’t quite what you had in mind.

Characters: Bucky x Reader Warnings: Bad language. A smidgen of murder. A splash of fluff.

A/N: This was written for the lovely @abovethesmokestacks ‘s summer challenge, and I’m a slacker who’s a week late, so thank goodness Pia’s amazing! This story came about because I was seriously coveting these shoes and because Pia gave me a super cheeky dialogue prompt, which you’ll find bolded in the story. Enjoy!

A/N 2: Check out Best. Proposal. Ever. to read more of these two!

If you want on or off the tag list, send me an ask!

MASTERLIST

Dress up, he ordered. Something fancy and sexy. I got a plan.

It sounded promising. A night at the ballet perhaps, or tickets to the opera. Dinner and dancing, maybe. Something classy. Something elegant.

After eyeing them in the window, you decide to buy that pair of outrageously expensive Jimmy Choo’s for the evening, anticipating something spectacular.

Well.

It was something alright.

*****

Black satin clutch tucked tight beneath your arm.

Quiet steps on the balls on your feet.

Gun drawn, cocked and aimed, you tiptoe down the dim hallway, keeping to the shadows, avoiding the puddles of yellow light spilling from vintage sconces lining the wall.

The target looms ahead, a heavy black door at the end of the corridor and a steady stream of quiet curses slips from clenched teeth as you move, damning his dumb ass to hell and back.

Eyeing the narrow beam of light lining the bottom of the door, you pause when muffled laughter slips beneath the crack. Momentarily confused, you wonder if you have the wrong room.

Nope.

“Answer the fucking question,” a frustrated voice suddenly shouts, followed by the dull thunk of metal slapping skin. Bucky’s responding groan is long and low, a guttural sound ripped from deep in his chest.

It sounds desperate.

It sounds wounded.

It sounds – excessively theatrical.

Of course.

Is it possible to roll your eyes so hard you see your brain?

Leaning into the door, you press an ear to the thick ebony wood. There’s a hum of unintelligible muttering and then plain as day, you hear Bucky’s cheerful response.

“Yeah, no. Feels like you’re hard of hearing there, big boy. You wanna hand me that knife? Let me clean out your ears real nice and careful like? Or maybe you were that stupid kid sitting too close to the TV growing up, watching cartoons while your Mommy was running around banging the mailma – ow! Fucking ouch god dammit, what the hell’s the matter with you?! Who the hell stabs someone? That fucking hurt!”

Pinching the bridge of your nose, you sigh.

Here’s the thing.

Now and then, the avenging gets slow. It happens occasionally, not often, but enough for you to discover an interesting personality twist. When the avenging gets slow, Bucky Barnes gets bored. And a bored Bucky Barnes is – concerning. Full of pent up energy, leaking sarcasm and sass, he has a small tendency to find trouble.

It’s not trouble, it’s called saving the world, he always argues.

It’s not saving the world, it’s called gratuitous chaos, you always respond.

The voice comes back, full of fury. Electricity pops and sizzles and suddenly Bucky swears at the top of his lungs.

“Wait, wait, wait, stop! Damn, fine, fine. You got me, just stop, please, I’ll talk, I’ll talk, let’s talk…about the fact that your mom was totally fucking the mailman, I mean come on – “

The sound of electricity buzzes louder and he howls in pain.

“Say it again,” you hear the voice snarl, followed by Bucky’s breathless reply.

“No joke man, you touch me with that thing again, I’ll shove it so far up your ass you’ll shit sparks for a week.”

In addition to the whole trouble thing? He’s also a massive drama queen.

“This is bullshit, Bucky” you hiss at the door, glancing at the absurdly expensive heels and reaching to brush dust from the toe. “I’m so fucking pissed at you.”

Seriously.

Clutching the gun tight, you carefully turn the knob and with a deep breath, hip check it open. And yep. The reveal is exactly what you could have anticipated, because you know Bucky Barnes way, way too well.

Dangling by his hands from a wide steel beam, his wrists encased in what appears to be a reinforced cuff, Bucky swings gently, the toes of his black boots barely brushing the ground. His faded grey t-shirt is slashed down one side, soaked through with thick splotches of blood and clinging to his body like a second skin. Twitching his head to shake away sweaty strands of dark hair, you see the impressive array of purple bruises painting his face, extending down his neck.

He looks terrible. Awful. A beaten man in terrible pain.

Except –

The anguished grimace fades when he sees you, morphing into a shit-eating grin. Wiggling his fingers in a mocking little hello, he gives you a wink.

What an ass.

Hearing the swinging door, the man in front of Bucky spins, raising a gun in one hand and a taser snapping lime green sparks in the other. Frustration is etched in every line of his face, which is, to be fair, a common expression for anyone talking to Bucky.

“Drop the gun,” he bellows, shaky hands holding both weapons in front and sounding for all the world like a two-bit security cop in a low-budget heist film.

Throwing him an impressively impatient scowl, you shake your head.

“Listen, I’ve had a long day and these heels are killing me and I just wanted to spend one night without worrying how I’m getting blood out of my clothes in the morning. So since that fantasy’s shot to shit, can you please just not?”

“Don’t try to distract me!” he yells in response. “Drop your gun or I’ll shoot you both!”

Looking past him, you meet Bucky’s wide-eyed, innocent blue eyes.

Innocent blue eyes. Seriously. What a crock.

“I’m fucking pissed at you,” you warn Bucky, pointing the gun down at your shoes. “These were expensive.”

He pokes his lip out in an exaggerated pout and swings himself playfully in the restraints. “Don’t be mad honey baby, it’s all part of the plan.”

“Jesus. I shudder to think what else you have planned.”

The guy follows the exchange like a tennis match, head swiveling in confusion, until he focuses on you again and opens his mouth to shout another disappointingly dull threat, but you hold your hand up to silence him and he looks unbelievably put out by the gesture.

“Look, I’m really not in the mood, alright? I gave you a chance.”

Flicking your eyes to the bloody, sweaty man dangling behind him, you cross your arms and wait.

Here it comes.

Vengeance fills his features, a blinding smile of murdery glee, and in the blink of an eye, Bucky curls his knees to his chest and hoists himself up with the metal arm. With a casual kick, he hooks his thighs around the man’s neck and squeezes tight.

Dropping both weapons, the man scrabbles at the dirty legs locked around his neck, panic flashing through his face.

“You sir,” Bucky states, as the man chokes, trying to wrench free, “are a real dick.”

With a graceful twist of his hips, he snaps the neck with a jarring crunch. The body collapses in a heap and Bucky glares contemptuously for a second and then proceeds to aim several childish kicks at the head, but his toes are just out of reach and he flails uselessly in the air.

He looks up in annoyance.

“Hi. Little fucking help here please?”

Stepping over the body, you rummage through the pile of electronic gadgets and random torture devices strewn across the table. Locating a small purple device attached to a SpongeBob keychain, you dangle it in front of him.

“Apology first.”

“No worries, I accept your apology,” Bucky says graciously. “Now get me down.”

“No asshole, I want an apology. You said dress up and now my Jimmy Choo’s have blood on them.”

“Okay fine, I’m sorry.” Skeptical of his quick submission, you punch the unlock button slowly and the cuff releases. Bucky drops to his feet, rubs the red chaffing around his wrist, and gives you a wide smile. “I’m sorry you’re a wet blanket who doesn’t appreciate fun, but anyway.”

He anticipates the move and ducks when you snatch a knife from the table and fling it at him, letting it smack harmlessly against the concrete wall behind him.

“I swear to god, you’re lucky you’re hot Barnes. It sure as hell’s not your personality that keeps me around.”

“The hell do you mean? I’m charming as fuck,” he argues. Wetting his busted lips, he uses the collar of his shirt to wipe away the pool of blood caked in the corner of his mouth, while interested eyes trail down your outfit.

Strapless black silk dress falling to your knees. Diamonds dangling from your ears. Bright red lips. Black Jimmy Choo heels with a flirty little feather on the side.

His smile turns a shade darker and ten shades filthier.

“You look smokin’ hot. Nice.”

“And it’s apparently a waste. When you said dress up, I sort of assumed we’d be doing an activity other than murder.” Tossing the keychain on the table, you come closer to scan his impressive mess of injuries. Probing the thick muscle below his ribcage, he sucks in a strangled breath as your fingers brush the source of blood still soaking his shirt.

“Buck – “ you start, but he cuts you off.

“Don’t baby me, I’m fine. Me and that bag of dicks just had a little disagreement over one of his brainless questions.”

“How did he go from asking questions to sticking a knife in your gut?” you ask, trying to tug up his shirt to confirm the damage.

“No, I will not have sex with you!” he says loudly, pushing your hands away. “God woman, keep it in your pants.”

“I’ll punch you in the knife wound Bucky. I really will.”

Sighing loudly, he stops struggling and lets you pull apart the remaining shreds of his shirt. Examining the blood under his fingernails while you examine the slow leak of blood down his side, he shrugs nonchalantly.

“If you must know, he just got a bit pissy because apparently suck my dick wasn’t the correct response to that question.”

Life with Bucky Barnes is akin to chasing an aggressively accident-prone toddler, so you’re actually prepared for this situation.

Opening the silver clasp on your clutch, you search for the extra-absorbent bandages you threw in earlier. Folding his hands obediently, Bucky rests them on top of his head and watches with a serene expression while you wipe away the blood from around the wound, before ripping open the bandage and applying it carefully to his skin.

“Has it ever occurred to you,” you ask, paper held between your teeth, “to try being a little less mouthy?”

Straightening the remains of his bloody t-shirt and wiping your grubby hands on his jeans, you look up to find him grinning.

“It did occur to me. But where’s the fun in that?” He holds his hand out expectantly. “On to part two. Did you bring my gun?”

The worst. Honestly. Sometimes he’s the worst.

“Yes, I brought your gun, you ungrateful douche.”

Lifting the edge of your skirt reveals the narrow straps of a black thigh holster, with Bucky’s favorite Glock strapped in place. He bites his lip and gives you that filthy smile again, crowding in close.

“Ugh. Dammit that’s so hot. Here, let me help,” his fingers snag the silky fabric, trying to pull up your skirt.

Slapping his hand and giving him a warning knee in the balls, he grunts and backs away with his wounded puppy face. Unclipping the gun, you flip it around and hand it over.

“Keep it in your pants Barnes, we don’t have time. The show’s about to start.”

Standing up straight, he salutes you with the barrel of the gun and cocks it dramatically.

“You’re the boss. Lead the way, you sexy little minx.”

*****

Navigating the labyrinth of halls, you find the back staircase leading up to a maze of crevices and hidey holes helpfully built into the rafters of the enormous ballroom. Finding a slot near the edge, you crawl into position, the smooth silk of your dress picking up the thick film of dust, making the slide easy.

God. Dammit. Bucky’s spending tomorrow morning getting this dress dry-cleaned and you better not hear a breath of argument from him.

“Seriously, I’m so fucking pissed at you,” you whisper, knowing full well his annoying super hearing will pick it up and sure enough, he rewards you with a stifled laugh.

The space is dark, muted light from the ballroom’s sparkling chandeliers allowing you to stay hidden from prying eyes down below. Bucky follows close behind, wiggling in next to you. Getting comfortable, he sighs happily and turns to you, gaze drifting from your face down your bare shoulders, over the swell of your ass, and that filthy smile appears again. Reaching down, he massages the back of your knee and runs his hand up your thigh, trying to pull your dress up again.

“Lemme see your panties.”

“For god’s sake, do not say panties, you weird fuck.”

“Fine. Lemme see your underpanties. Are they lace? Tell me they’re lace. You know how much I like lace.” His hand wanders further up to find your black lace covered bottom and he gives a whispered yes of delight.

Ignoring the wandering hand squeezing handfuls of your ass, you open the black clutch again, extracting four paper-thin pieces of metal. Clicking them together reveals a lightweight air-rifle with a narrow scope affixed to the top.

Bucky’s eyes light up.

“Gimmie,” he says breathlessly, releasing his death-grip on your ass and reaching grabby hands toward the weapon.

Still ignoring him, you prop the rifle on the ledge in front of you and peer through the scope, searching for the reason you’re stuck in the dirty ceiling of this exquisite ballroom, instead of somewhere fashionable with people making jealous remarks about your amazing shoes.

Bucky nudges you.

“Gimmie,” he says again.

“No, Bucky.”

“Yes, Bucky,” he insists, now trying to tug it from your grip. “Did you forget I’m the best shot the US army ever had? I even have a certificate that says so. You can’t argue with my certificate, it’s not patriotic. Captain America’ll arrest you.”

Still searching through the crosshairs, you peel his sticky fingers from the barrel with one hand.

“You drawing a picture of a gun, writing ‘Bucky rules’ on it, and taping it to the refrigerator does not mean you have a certificate.”

He gives an indignant little squawk. “Uh, I didn’t tape it to the ‘fridge, I superglued it to the ‘fridge. That fucker’s never coming down.”

“Can you please shut up? I need to focus.”

“Come on honeycakes, let me have the rifle,” he whines softly, resuming the light strokes down your thigh.

“No. I know you. You’ll shoot the guy in the eye just to prove you can, he’ll realize something’s up, and it’ll blow our cover.”

“Why would I do that?” His voice oozes shocked sweetness.

“Because you’re a showoff,” you mutter.

“I’m not a show-off,” Bucky argues and somehow in the narrow space he manages to crawl on top of you, straddle your hips and start licking your neck. “Sometimes I’m just vindictive, I can’t help that. Now come on and give me the rifle, hmm? Please? I got stabbed earlier, you should let me have my way. If I have internal bleeding and I die later, you’ll feel really bad about not giving me this one little thing. Come on, hand it over.”

He sucks your earlobe and tugs with his teeth.

Long ago, this strategy might have worked.

He is charming.

He excels at sweet talk.

He is murderously adorable.

The only thing working against him now – is that you know he’s completely full of shit.

“Get off me, you weigh a ton,” you respond instead, wiggling your shoulders to shrug him away.

“Did you just call me fat?” he whispers. He bites your ear harder.

“Maybe,” you shiver at the petulant huff warming your neck.

“I am offended.”

“No, you’re not.”

“No, I’m not, but someone with less self-confidence might be and would you like that on your conscience?”

“I’ll manage.”

In that moment, the crosshairs find him, a tall man dressed in an impeccable black tuxedo, his blond hair slick and shining. Even though he’s dead set on being an annoying little shit, Bucky instantly recognizes your posture change and goes motionless above you. Taking a deep breath, focusing on the small mole on the back of the blond’s neck, you gently squeeze the trigger. With a twitch, the rifle silently expels the microscopic dart and you know it’s a direct hit when the man scratches absently at the patch of skin above his collar.

Bucky gives a hum of approval and plants a sloppy kiss on your neck.

“Nailed it. High five,” he says and reaches between his legs to slap your ass. “But how come you’re always so mean to me? And why the hell does it turn me on so much?”

Breaking down the weapon, you pack it back in the purse and snap it shut.

“Because you’re a fucking masochist.”

“True. So – now what?”

“Now we wait.”

As the words leave your mouth, the chandeliers begin to dim, the hum of voices dropping as the crowd of people shuffle to their seats.

Folding your arms, you lay your head down to wait. Bucky finally stops fidgeting, settling on top of you, balancing his weight on his forearms and resting his chin on your shoulder. He smells like attic dust and irony blood, but his heavy presence is a warm and comfortable weight.

All fades to black. Absolute silence.

The single note trembles in the darkness, the vibrating twang of a cello. Low lights slowly illuminate the small platform at the front of the ballroom, revealing three musicians and the sudden haunting whine of a violin shatters the stillness.

The air overflows with music, Tchaikovsky, Mozart, Bach, a symphony of classics bleeding together, never pausing. Bucky stays still above you, his only concession to movement when he occasionally presses his lips to the space behind your ear, breathing in the familiar lingering scent.

And sure, he drives you bonkers half the time and he may be utterly full of shit, but a simple fact remains.

Nothing in the world, beats the feel of his mouth on your skin.

Ninety minutes of magic fly by and applause fills the room as the lights come up for intermission, the audience leaping to their feet. No one notices the blond man seated halfway back, slumped in his seat, nor the shadowy figures of two people energetically arguing as they slip from a hidden exit in the back.

*****

From a distance, you spy the neon sign, the only beacon of colorful life along this desolate stretch of highway. Bucky perks up and bounces in his seat.

“There it is! Pull over.”

“Bucky, no. I’m tired and you’re bleeding on my leather seats and I want to go home and shower.”

“But I’m hungry. I’m literally wasting away.”

“Figuratively. You are figuratively wasting away.”

“So, you agree then, I’m wasting away and we should stop.”

“Oh my god, fine.”

Swerving into the parking lot with a screech of tires, both of you clamber from the vehicle still debating his rampant disregard for basic language definitions and stomp into the brightly lit Taco Bell. At this lonely hour, it’s nearly empty, minus the energetic high school kid with headphones using his mop as an air guitar, the line cook playing Jenga with a towering stack of tomatoes, and the bored woman behind the counter, chomping her gum and watching your bickering approach with interest.

Glancing at Bucky, you flinch at the image. The harsh light throws his wounds into sharp relief, bruises already fading from dark purple to sickly greenish-yellow. The gray t-shirt is shredded and stiff with blood and sweat and what appear to be chocolate fingerprints, lifted from the half-melted M&Ms he found in your glove box.

To be fair, you don’t look much better. The previously elegant heels dangle from loose fingers, speckled with blood and holding two wilted feathers. Covered head to toe in dust and cobwebs, your knees are scraped up and your polished toes curl bare against the floor.

What the hell possessed you to walk barefoot into a 24-hour Taco Bell you’ll never know, but alas. Here you are.

Bucky saunters up to the register and slaps his grimy hands on the counter, giving the woman his most charming smile and what he believes to be a sexy wink. She simply raises an eyebrow and snaps her gum.

“Hello. I want the dollar menu,” Bucky says, squinting up at the sign.

“Which items?”

“All the items,” he replies promptly. “And a diet soda please, not a regular one. I’m cutting back on the calories, apparently I need to watch my weight. The lady here says I’ve been pudging out.”

Pinching the non-existent fat on his washboard of a stomach, he gives her a conspiratorial nod and points back to you.

“I most certainly did not say that,” you huff, glaring at him.

“Yes, you did, you called me fat earlier,” he reminds you. “Remember? When I was on top of you and tried to pull up your dress?”

The woman stares at him and blows a pink bubble. Her eyes slide to you and she gives you a slow nod, the kind that clearly says nice.

“No,” you say sternly, pointing a warning finger. “Christ no. Do not encourage him.”

Bucky laughs, the sound of his husky voice echoing through the restaurant and dammit, he looks like someone threw a brick at his face and used him to sharpen their knives, but he’s still the most attractive man you’ve ever met and how’s that for annoying?

Fifteen minutes later, you’re back on the road, flying along as Bucky holds tight to his food and watches the highway intently, counting out road signs. Finally, he points to a small green number.

“This is it, last stop,” Bucky says, his voice brimming with excitement. “Slow down, the road’s there.”

Arguing is futile, so you follow his directions, turning off the highway and bumping down a narrow strip of unmarked road. The path winds further and further and you wonder at his end game, until the trees suddenly clear and you hit the brakes in surprise.

The night sky extends in front of you, an infinite black road to the stars twinkling above the black ocean waves, a dazzling full moon low on the horizon. The secluded beach is empty, a quiet world existing for you and Bucky alone – and when you turn to him, you see him watching you with an adoring grin.

That damn smile. It gets you every time.

“I swear Barnes, you’re good. You’re really good,” you admit and Bucky tips his head back and starts to laugh.

Climbing from the car, you dig out a plaid blanket from your trunk, and with heels and soda in hand, the echo of crashing waves pulls you through the darkness. Finding a flat space, you fluff the blanket out and collapse, stretching out with a soft groan and closing your eyes.

Bucky drops his bag full of cheesy beef burritos and chicken quesadillas and caramel apple empanadas and kicks off his boots with a matching groan of pleasure. Falling to the blanket he rolls onto his stomach and tears into the food, making his way through each item in silence. Long minutes tick by as the damp breeze blows over your skin and you begin to doze.

“You know,” he finally says, chewing thoughtfully. “I’m calling it. Tonight? Best. Date. Ever. Gonna be hard to top this.”

Rolling to the side, you prop your chin in your hand. “Come again?”

“Yeah, I planned it perfectly! The whole night, it was all things you wanted to do.” He finishes chewing the last bite, tucks the wrappers into the bag and sits up on his knees, ticking off the evening’s events.

“So first, we did a fun couples activity.”

“Me saving you from an ass beating and you snapping a guy’s neck isn’t exactly a couple’s activity, but sure.”

“Second, I got us private box seats, so we could go to a – sold out I might add – classical music concert.”

“I mean, again with the murder and now a massive dry-cleaning bill, but okay.”

“And to cap off the perfect date, we’re having a romantic moonlit picnic on the beach.”

The sarcastic quip balances on the tip of your tongue and in all fairness, Bucky expects a sassy response. Sass is the bedrock of your relationship.

But the words don’t come.

Instead, you absorb the pure beauty of the glowing white sand and of Bucky’s handsome face, reflecting on everything about him that led you here tonight.

He’s incorrigible.

A pain in the ass.

Ridiculous.

Passionate.

Hilarious.

Adorable.

The love of your life.

Damn. You’re head over heels for this idiot.

Nodding slowly, your lips curve into the smile he loves so well, the one that melts his heart, the one he went to outrageous lengths to pull from you tonight.

“Yeah. You’re right Buck. You pretty much nailed it.”

Bucky grins at the compliment. He picks up your left hand, brushes specs of sand away, and places two kisses on your finger.

One above your wedding band, one below.

Contentment sings through his veins and he threads his fingers through yours.

“Happy anniversary honey.”

“Happy anniversary Bucky.”

“Do me a favor, yeah?” Bending closer, he rubs his mouth lightly against your forehead, your nose, your lips. He drinks up the word with a blissful sigh when he hears your reply.

“Anything.”

“Get those heels back on, I ain’t letting them go to waste.”

Laughing, you hand him the shoes and he pulls your legs apart and crawls between them, slipping the heels gently on your feet one at a time, leaving wet kisses on each ankle.

The filthy smile is back.

He tugs up your skirt.

And this time, you go with it.

*****

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amandaoftherosemire · 5 years

Text

Lightning Strikes Part Six

Fandom: Marvel Avengers AU

Pairing: Thor Odinson X Reader

Characters: Thor Odinson, Loki Odinson, Valkyrie

Author: @amandaoftherosemire

Rating: Explicit

Word Count: 7,620

Format: Series (Complete)

Warning: 18+ only please, Language, light smut, implied smut, angst, fluff, flangst

Summary: You visit New Asgard and contemplate your future with Thor.

Part Five: Antithesis here

Crucible

Thor ever so slowly ran the pad of his forefinger up from the base of your spine to the base of your skull, memorizing the feel of each and every vertebra on the way. As he did so, he felt the remaining tension in your muscles start to drain away. When he got to the end of his journey up, he turned around and dragged his fingers back down.

You were currently laying face down in his bed, where you’d been since shortly after you’d arrived in New Asgard several hours before. Thor had given you the most cursory of tours through the manor house that served both as the royal family’s residence and the center of government for the Asgardian refugees before sweeping you off to his personal quarters.

He’d meant to show you everything, to introduce you to his world and his people but he’d gone nearly three weeks without you. He had needed you too much, been too desperate to remind himself that you were still his, at least for now. So, he'd taken you to his private quarters and made love to you twice before he could still the wild grief that rose into his throat to choke him whenever he forgot himself and thought about the future.

On the second trip back down your spine, you made a humming sound of pleasure and murmured, “Mmm, you have an hour to quit that.”

Thor chuckled a little but didn’t reply. He was too absorbed in the contrast between his own calloused hand and the velvet softness of your skin. You seemed so tiny to him, your body small and delicate under his hands. You laughed whenever he called you tiny, but to him you seemed impossibly fragile. Despite this, he knew your little frame belied strength and purpose and it made you only more beautiful to him. You were bright and fierce and he was already so in love with you he didn’t know what to do.

He hadn't meant to fall in love with you, had actively attempted to avoid it, as a matter of fact. No matter that he hadn't wanted it; he was King of Asgard and, above all else, had a duty to his people. Moreover, those people were refugees, a displaced remnant on a foreign planet. They needed time to acclimate to the reality of their changed circumstances. They needed steadiness from him while they did so. Steadiness he had in short supply when he was falling stupid in love with a woman as wild and tempting as the most tumultuous of storms.

He thought he’d be satisfied once he had you here, in his home, in his bed, but now that you were, he was even more aware of how hopeless that love really was. When he'd first come to Earth, had first loved a Midgard woman, he had thought he understood the sacrifices and sorrows. He had been unbelievably naïve, concerned only for his people's arrogance when it came to humankind. He had not truly considered what loving someone so painfully mortal really meant.

Until recently he had not yet become so intimately acquainted with grief and loss. He hadn't yet known how despair weighed, how the simple reminder of everything lost could nearly bring him to his knees. He hadn’t known how sharp the teeth of regret could be when they tore at the mind and heart. Now that he knew, love was a terror as much as a thrill. Words spoken about someone else, but no less relevant, haunted every night he spent without you. This day, the next, a hundred years, it's nothing. It's a heartbeat. You'll never be ready.

Today he’d spent too many hours with advisers that knew everything about how an Asgardian king should conduct himself and yet nothing about the actual reality in which they found themselves. None of Thor’s forebears had ruled over such an Asgard. There was no rulebook, no precedent. Whatever they might wish, he had to take everything they said with a grain of salt.

Especially everything they had to say about you, the thought of which had him growling in his throat as the fury rose up once more. They spoke of you derisively, as though you were nothing more than a diversion he was entertaining, and below their notice as long as you stayed in your place. Though they thought you weak and helpless, he knew you to be so much more than they could possibly imagine, not least of which because they could never see the strength in kindness. You took care with the people you loved, tending to them in quiet, everyday ways. Dim and blinded by their own arrogance, they couldn't see how much more you were.

He'd fallen in love with you because of that kindness, or at least he'd realized he loved you because of it. The moment he’d recognized that rush of warmth through his chest had been fairly mundane. You'd gone to the trouble to research some candy that Bucky had eaten in his youth but couldn't find now. You'd discovered that it was being sold under a different name and brought him one.

Thor had been there that day, and when Bucky bit into the candy and moaned in pleasure at the taste of his childhood, the light in your eyes, the glow of joy on your face caught his heart and made it yours. In that same moment, a feeling of inevitability had settled over him, as though he had been fated to love you. Thor would never question fate.

At Thor's growl, you tilted your face slightly more towards him and lifted an eyebrow. "You alright there, baby boo?"

"Baby boo? You're making fun of me again, aren't you?" Thor couldn't help the amusement from creeping into his tone. You always knew what to say to ease his darker moods.

You moved your shoulders and closed your eyes. Sometimes Thor found it easier to talk about whatever was bothering him when you weren't looking at him. You teased lightly. "I can't figure out why my back is making you so angry."

Thor smiled down at your quiet, peaceful face. He wished he knew how exactly to tell you everything truly weighing on his mind, but he didn't know how to drag it out of himself. He knew you had the same worries; he'd seen them behind your eyes. You were both trying to figure out how to fit into each other's worlds, becoming more frantic searching for a solution neither could find. Thus, you each pretended it wasn't happening to put off the inevitable for as long as possible. Neither of you could speak of it; to do so would be to bring it into the light where you'd have to look at it.

"I love you." Thor had had no idea that those words were about to leave his mouth. Considering it was the first time he'd ever said them to you, he hadn't intended to tell you like that, if at all. The moment they were out he wanted them back, terrified that he'd destroyed everything he needed so desperately. "Fuck!" So busy mentally swearing at himself, he didn't even notice he'd said the curse out loud.

Once the words hit your ear, your eyes flew open and you immediately shifted to roll over, desperate to see the expression on Thor's face. Thor had been laying propped on one arm to trace your backbone and had not moved, but his face was a study in chagrin. You lay looking up at him, trying and failing to understand what exactly you just heard. It had sounded a lot like Thor had said that he loved you, and then immediately followed it up with a furious and disgusted expletive.

“You wanna run that by me one more time, your majesty?” Though your voice was wry and suspicious, and you only called him ‘your majesty’ when you were feeling particularly mouthy, he had learned some of your tells over the past several months. He could see the vulnerability in the slight quiver of your lower lip and the anxiety tight around the corners of your eyes. To top it off, you'd pulled the sheet up to cover your breasts, as though you needed the shield.

Thor's heart, already tender when it came to you, melted like frost in the springtime sun. He lifted his hand to trace his fingers over the line of your jaw. His voice a low rumble of far off thunder and his eyes softer than you'd ever seen them, he leaned down to brush his lips gently over yours. "I love you," he murmured against your lips. Now that he'd given the words to you, he could no longer hold them back. They belonged to you now.

Your eyes had fluttered, but you wouldn't allow them to close. You needed too badly to see his expression, your pounding heart keeping your eyes fixed frantically on his face. When he spoke the words again, you released the breath you'd been holding in a shaky sigh. "I love you, too." Your vision was swimming and you felt the cool trickle of a tear falling down your temple.

The next Thor was catching with his lips, kissing it away. "Why does that make you cry, my sweet?"

"For the same reason it makes you curse, I imagine." You gave him a watery smile, but it was taking everything you had not to sob. You lost the battle when Thor slid his arms under you to pull you close and wrap himself around you, to pretend he could protect you from the pain. It was a vain gesture; he couldn't protect himself, but it made him feel better to have you in his arms. "Because it's--"

"Impossible," you finished when his voice choked off. You hadn't resisted when he enfolded you, letting your body flow like water against his in a desperate attempt to get as close as possible. The goblin in the back of your mind was laughing outright and the grief was rising up to strangle you as you clung to Thor, your arms twined tightly around his neck and your drenched face buried in his throat.

"I was going to say hopeless," he said gently, and you hiccupped a laugh and tilted your head back, loosening your arms to look into his face. Once your tear wrecked face came into his view, Thor was kissing you with all the desolation and desire inside him. You were his world now, but he couldn't see how he could ever keep you.

You were not a passive recipient of all Thor was pouring into you, but gave him everything back, all the joy and despair that came from loving him, a man so different he could count his lifespan in millennia. You were like a goldfish to him; getting attached to you in any capacity was insanity. That you could feel that he loved you as much as you loved him was like a miracle dressed in sorrow.

A long, desperate kiss later, Thor was burying his face in your throat this time, his voice rumbling through your body as his huge frame pressed you into the bed. "I was told today that it would be unlikely that an Asgardian woman worthy of being queen would be willing to tolerate my 'human mistress,' so I should enjoy myself for the moment."

You could hear the condescending cruelty in Thor's mockery of the person who referred to you as his "human mistress" and your eyes narrowed. Someone didn't realize it, but they'd made an enemy today. It was one thing to tell Thor hard truths; it was another to enjoy the pain one caused.

"I object to being referred to as your mistress," you said, mock outrage ripe in your tone, trying to make Thor laugh. "You're my boy toy and don't you fucking forget it."

Thor became aware by the tight sound of your voice that he was crushing you and rolled to his side. He pulled you with him so that you lay side by side facing one another. Unable to bear the sight of the face he loved above all others soaked in tears, he lifted his hand to gently brush at your wet cheeks as he teased. "And yet you're fine with being Loki's pet."

"Ugh!” You snuggled into Thor’s chest, still feeling lost and broken and needing the comfort. With reluctant amusement, you went on. “I regret ever playing along with that. I found catnip toys in my goddamn desk yesterday. Where does he even get this shit?"

Thor’s silence didn’t immediately set off any alarm bells, but the slight hesitation in his touch made you suspicious. Moving your head away from him to get a better look at his face, you couldn’t help but notice he wouldn’t meet your gaze. Your eyes narrowed and you scrambled up to grab a pillow. Thor lifted his arms to protect his face, but he was laughing when you brought the pillow down with a whump on his head.

"Oh, you fucking asshole!” you cried in outrage. “You've been helping him this whole time, haven't you?"

Thor did nothing to stop you, merely half-heartedly fended off your repeated blows with the pillow. "I had to!" That he was laughing as he defended himself belied his innocence. "It kept him out of trouble!"

You didn't answer, merely scoffed as you redoubled your efforts and began beating him even more viciously with the pillow. The chuckles still tumbling out of him, he snagged you by the waist and pulled you down, rolling you under him and snagging the pillow from your hands to toss it across the room. Though your face was still damp from your tears, you were giggling with him by the time you were on your back, caged in by brawny arms and the smooth wall of his chest.

The next moment his lips were on yours and you were caught up in him once more, everything else melting away. You twined yourself around him, rubbing yourself against him, trying to bathe in his scent. You breathed his breath as he kissed you like the world was ending, and in some ways for the two of you it was. Neither of you were children and knew that love conquered all only in fairy tales.

His hands raced over you as he pulled you against him, holding you tight enough to bruise. You couldn't complain as you wanted to be even closer, wanted to crawl inside his skin and live there. As his body slid against yours, as your fingers dug into soft skin over muscle, you could see nothing but the wild blue of his gaze, could feel nothing but the electric charge of his touch.

By the time he slid inside you, you felt surrounded by him, every nerve tuned to him, your body thrilling to his. All you could hear was the frantic hammering of his heart, all you could smell ozone and the scent of rain on the wind. All you could taste was metal and salt, every sense saturated in Thor. You were drowning in sensation, lost in love and desire. Everything else felt distant and unimportant, all that mattered the feel of his body rocking against and into yours, the flood of heat rising between you.

You lifted your hands to cup his beautiful face as you moved more frantically against him, chasing your climax. Even as it crashed over you in a wave of trembling pleasure, you held his gaze. You could see forever there and wished with all your might you could offer him the same.

Thor had known actual goddesses, had been tempted by some of the most dazzling beauties in all the realms. He had seen astronomical wonders the glories of which could bring an ache to the throat and a tear to the eye. He'd witnessed both the birth and death of stars, the subtle loveliness of a new nebula and the striking brilliance of a supernova. Of all the splendors he'd seen in his long life, however, none could compare to the sight of your face warm with passion, your radiant eyes glowing with love and blurred with the pleasure he brought you. His heart somehow both broken and full, he pressed his lips to yours and let go.

A short while later, laying in the curve of Thor's arm, your head pillowed on his shoulder, you spoke into the oppressive silence that had settled over you and destroyed the post-coital glow. "I love you. I don't care that it's impossible, that it's hopeless. I love you with all my heart." The weight came in the form of that word: hopeless. It was in that word that all your dreams lived and died.

Hopeless, Thor thought. Even should he ignore all else, he could never keep you indefinitely. You had a right to a real life of your own, not spending what little time you had as the mistress of a man who could never offer you all you deserved. Someday he was going to have to watch you walk away from him. He didn't know how he'd survive it. He wondered, if he'd known how much pain would come from his supposedly harmless fling with a talking plant, would he have sent that raven?

Of course he would, he thought. There was no question you were worth it. "I love you," he answered, his voice rumbling in his chest and into your body. It was one of your favorite sensations, to have it come from love made it even better. You didn't know it, but you often made a small happy sound whenever that rumble shivered through you. Thor didn't know why you made the sound, but he loved that you did. Despite the years of his life he'd spend grieving your absence from it, he would not change loving you. You were part of him now. He squeezed you tighter and kissed the top of your head. "I'll never regret it."

"You’ve had a secret smile on your lovely lips all evening, my dear." Loki spoke softly, for your ears alone, but the quiet roar of the mingling guests made it unlikely anyone would over hear. You’d discovered that Asgardians tended to be boisterous when they dined and drank, something you enjoyed immensely.

The two of you stood on the edge of the large hall in which the guests of the Asgardian version of a dinner party mingled after their meal. If you could call the raucous laughter, shouts, and occasional crash of broken glass mingling. You were currently watching the crowd and trying to pick out the undercurrents in the room. Loki continued, his voice silky and sly. "Not only is it fetching, and it is, it makes you look like you belong on my arm."

You sneered but didn't look at the man whose arm you were on, regardless of whether or not you appeared to belong there. Though you'd dressed in green, it wasn't because Loki was your date, but because Thor's eyes heated whenever you reminded him of a talking plant. "First off," you replied, and as you were always happy to play along, your tone was rich with vaguely irritated ennui. "I’m not your ornament; you’re mine. We already agreed you’re the beauty in this relationship."

You couldn't keep your lips from twitching when Loki laughed out loud. When a number of suspicious eyes darted your way in response to Loki's vocal amusement, you concluded that, contrary to either man's beliefs, attending this shindig as Thor's date instead could not have made the target on your back much worse. If you'd been worried about it in the first place, the cold eyes raking over you would have chilled you to the bone. As it was, you were too busy trying to find out who'd called you Thor's 'human mistress' to his face to concern yourself with the opinions of assholes.

Loki was still chuckling when he lifted your hand to his lips, his eyes dancing as he answered. "Is it any wonder I adore you, y/n? No other human I’ve met wraps an insult in a compliment while looking innocent as a babe."

When you turned to face Loki, you still wore that innocent as a babe expression, but once he'd met your eyes, you let it melt into a wickedly sparkling smile, prompting Loki to smile wickedly back. Because his hands were as large as the rest of him, his fingers rested against the inside of your wrist, where he felt your pulse kick. As much as you loved Thor, you couldn't help your physical reaction to his brother, regardless of your intention to never, under any circumstances, act on it.

The knowing smile that spread across his face in response to that skipping heartbeat sent a chill of either dread or excitement down your spine. You never knew for certain which it was with Loki, yet another reason you'd never act on it. "They all think we’re having an affair, you know." His voice was almost a hiss, and the hint of desire that twined through had your hand trembling in his. That was all you ever heard, ever saw from Loki: a hint of desire. "Maybe it has something to do with the way you smile for me.”

Your heart was racing; this was the first time Loki had spoken, even indirectly, of the tension that ebbed and flowed between you. You looked back to the crowd, unable to meet that piercing emerald gaze any longer, too afraid of the emotion that lived there. Your eyes sought Thor, your anchor in this world where gods were real and their court a lion’s den.

Over the course of your career working for Pepper Potts, you'd learned how to deal gracefully with the children masquerading as adults that begged and pleaded for her attention and money with the demanding tones of fussy toddlers. You had become adept at acting calm or bored no matter how your blood boiled. You used every last bit of acting chops you had to comment casually, as though Loki wasn't deliberately baiting you.

"I was thinking it was funny that you tell different versions of the same story depending on whom you’re speaking to." Now that you felt more in control of yourself, you slanted him a darkly amused half-smile. "I wonder where the truth lies, or do you even know anymore?"

Loki shrugged, unconcerned. "I can't see that it matters."

You smirked a little. “Pretty much what I thought you'd say.”

You weren't aware of it, but once your eyes found Thor, your face softened. You managed to catch his eye and the warm smile he sent your way had you sighing happily and smiling back.

Your expression wasn’t lost on a pair of dark eyes that watched with an impersonal kind of suspicion. Brunnhilde hadn’t survived on Sakaar for as long as she had by being stupid or careless. You were an unknown that had somehow become shockingly close to both the King and the Prince. She wasn’t interested in the paranoid mutters of soft courtiers still pining for their days of power and luxury, but she was keeping an eye on you.

Except she was now almost certain, based on that look from across the room, that you were stupid in love with Thor. She’d never again give her loyalty blindly to the throne, but she was ride or die for Thor, and that look of helpless devotion had done more to ease her suspicion than anything else could.

On the other hand, you were oddly comfortable with Loki, whom she respected, but was not foolish enough to trust. His continued attention to you, considering his open disdain for every other member of your species, was of note, if not concern. Watching the two of you now, if she didn't know better, the feeling in the relationship was real, but not always pleasant.

The smile had dropped from your face almost as soon as Thor looked away. Loki leaned in and whispered silkily in your ear, his voice somehow filled with both sympathy and mockery. "Tell me something, pet. What exactly do you think will happen?" His lips were nearly brushing your ear, his breath wafting over the skin of your neck and raising goosebumps. You tried and failed to control the shiver. "Our people will never accept a human as Queen, even for so short a time as you'll live. He'll never marry you and should you bear him children, they'll never sit the throne, their royal blood never recognized." Your heart was pounding, and part of you wondered if Loki was enjoying his cruelty. The thought that he might set your temper ablaze.

You shot him a look filled with such loathing, Loki was genuinely taken aback, surprised to discover that he could absolutely push you too far. Your lip curling and your voice a hiss, you answered in a rush of fury. "I don't give a single fuck about being anyone’s queen or what your people will and will not accept. And I'm certainly not thinking about marriage or children, you fucking lunatic." Sneering, you turned and sailed through the doors at your back into the gardens beyond.

You stopped on the terrace and leaned on the railing as you breathed in the cool ocean air and tried to calm your racing heart. You tried to tell yourself it was speeding only in anger, but part of you knew better. Fear played at least a supporting role.

Behind you came that silky voice again, but the mockery, the enjoyment was gone. "I’m sorry, dear one. But you can never be anything more than a dalliance to him, something to sample rather than savor."

"Loki. Stop it." Now that he offered solace rather than malice, you couldn't entirely stop your voice from trembling, even as you tried to keep it stern.

He was right behind you now, and as he spoke he clamped his hands around your upper arms and squeezed. Savagely, he accused, "Because for all you call me a liar, you know I speak the truth."

"Because you’re hurting me."

His hands released you immediately. You turned to face him, and at the sight of the tears in your eyes he felt an unexpected and unfamiliar pang of remorse for deliberately hurting you. "Were you the one who said as much to him today?" You needed to know if Loki had been the one to so dismissively refer to you as a 'human mistress'. You wouldn't have believed so before tonight, but you wouldn't have believed Loki could speak to you this way, either.

"No." Loki sneered, and the sheer insult on his face had you believing him. "That was one of our father's advisers, who now considers himself my brother's adviser. He's an idiot, and an undeservedly arrogant one at that. I was so disappointed to see he survived."

At the last, you couldn't help but laugh a little. Trust Loki to say the thing others would think but never admit to. That little laugh made you feel enough better to say what you hadn't wanted to think. "I know it's doomed, Loki." Hopeless. "I've known since the beginning. I can't stop myself from loving him, not even to please you. Not even to save myself." Somehow, saying it out loud helped your rigid body unbend enough that when Loki opened his arms, you could walk into them.

"Pet." Loki folded you close. It was the first time either of you had touched even so intimately as a hug, but it felt natural to be in his arms, to take comfort from him, and that scared you more than anything had so far. Until his next words. "I'm certain now. I don't enjoy seeing you in pain."

The next morning, you sat at a small table in the living area outside of Thor’s bedroom, eating what the Asgardians thought of as breakfast and trying to pummel your brain awake with coffee strong enough to take the top layer of taste buds off your tongue. Thor was watching you, and for once it made you nervous rather than flattered. Unsure of his mood, you scrolled through the news on your phone and waited for him to speak.

Thor was regarding you closely, uncertain of his best course of action. He'd seen you snarling at Loki the night before and had followed the two of you into the gardens. He'd also seen you in Loki's arms. Though the embrace could hardly be described as torrid, it also was more intimate than a hug. You had had your face buried in Loki's chest while his head had been bowed over yours, as though he genuinely cared for you. It made Thor sick to think that he once more might possess something his brother coveted.

Moreover, he needed to know what you were thinking, what you felt. He needed to know if this sinking feeling in his chest was unfounded jealousy caused by his own guilt where you were concerned. After all, if you chose to leave him for Loki, it'd be his own damn fault.

"What were you and Loki arguing about last night?" Thor hadn't intended for the question to come out quite so baldly, or in such an accusatory tone, but the thought that he might have already lost you so soon after hearing you say you loved him was eating him alive. Had Loki betrayed him yet again? Had you?

You paused in the act of taking a bite of the salmon and eggs on your plate, leaving the fork between your lips for a beat as the question sank in. You now understood his odd mood last night and this morning. After the party, he hadn't been able to wait until you were back in his rooms. He'd taken you on a big desk in the library, the first empty room he'd found with a lock. He'd been rougher with you than ever before, almost angry, and demanding you say his name. Every time you'd obliged by moaning it, keeping your eyes fixed on his face, he'd pounded into you harder, driving you higher, so you'd been happy to accede to his demands.

After the desk encounter, he'd carried you to his rooms and spent the next couple hours pleasuring you slowly and thoroughly, until you'd fallen asleep in his arms, too exhausted and sated to take any more. You'd wondered at the desperation, but as you'd needed the connection as much as he, you'd opted to enjoy it and deal with the fallout later. Apparently, it was now later.

You slowly pulled the fork from your mouth, carefully setting it down next to your plate. Quickly chewing and swallowing, you straightened your thoughts. "You." You smiled a little, sadly, as Thor looked surprised at so honest an answer to his question.

The fact of the matter was he had a right to the question. There was something between you and Loki. That you hadn't acted on it didn't negate its existence. You would give Thor the truth, as unvarnished as you could stand, because Loki had done a lot of psychological damage over the centuries. Thor had reasons for his trust issues. "Apparently everyone here thinks he and I are having an affair."

"Are you?" Thor looked as surprised as you were that he had asked the question like that, with the bark off. You were delighted. That kind of honest question led to actual communication. You'd learned from the successful relationships around you that open communication worked better than most anything else for keeping people from killing one another.

Your smile widened a little and you got to your feet and rounded the table. He turned towards you as you approached and you immediately dropped into his lap, wrapping your arms around his neck, your eyes staring directly into his. "No." You leaned in and pressed your lips gently, softly to his, letting your mouth brush his, your nose nuzzling his as you whispered against his mouth. "I love you."

Thor's arms had come around you and pulled you close. He loved the look of warm understanding in your eyes as you denied betraying him with his brother. He adored the feel of your mouth against his as you reminded him that you loved him. He'd known, but love sometimes goes hand in hand with fear, when trust is difficult, and the love is new. "I know that," he whispered as he set his forehead against yours, reveling of the feel of you pressed against him in comfort. "I do. I needed to hear it, but I know it. I have so many people whispering in my ear and much of it is poisonous."

You huffed out a whisper of a laugh. You weren't even a little surprised. If guys like the one who called you his 'human mistress' were "advising" Thor, how many others were trying to divide and conquer to preserve their own influence. You knew how this kind of world worked; you'd been observing and manipulating one for years.

As a matter of fact, Human Mistress Guy didn't know it, but you'd found out who he was, thanks to Loki, and you were already putting your revenge in motion.

You'd already laid the groundwork before you even knew there was a need by doing what you always did in these general situations. You'd made friends with someone in the know who wasn't getting the credit they deserved. In this case it was the housemaid, Astrid, who'd been assigned to clean your rooms. She was super smart and observant, and she had a wicked and bawdy sense of humor. She'd taken to you right away when you'd told her that you'd thought about messing up the bed, but you were hardly ashamed of the fact that you hadn't slept in it because you'd been in Thor's. She'd become your friend when you'd grinned and said Besides, why make more work for you when I get to smugly brag like this instead?

She knew all sorts of fascinating things about HMG.

You turned your face to rub your cheek against Thor's. His beard was thick but surprisingly soft and felt delicious against your skin. "I'd like to get all high and mighty about it," you murmured, your voice a touch amused, "but… Loki." On the name you put as much wry emphasis on the word as you could muster, to make clear you recognized the source of Thor’s anxieties.

Thor laughed and felt the tension in his neck dissolve. You really were perfect. Not only was he absolutely sure that, no matter what he sensed between you and Loki, up to and including love, you were telling him the truth. You had not and would not betray him. You loved him. Not only that, you understood why he needed the reassurance. So, you reassured him, because you loved him.

You laughed, too, but still in those quiet huffs of breath, and continued. "Because Loki, I know it can be hard to believe," you paused and pulled back to face him again, "but I would never betray you, not like that, not at all. That's a dealbreaker, you know?"

Thor was smiling fondly at you, loving that you would say the words aloud, that you were willing to make the first promises, but at the question he quirked a brow. "No. Dealbreaker?"

You smiled fondly back. "The kind of thing you can't get past. I can take a lot." Your lips tightened and Thor could tell that you had your own history with shattered illusions. "I cannot take betrayal, infidelity, dishonesty. I can roll with the punches, but I need to be able to trust. Know what I mean?" As you explained, Thor's smile widened. He understood what you were trying to tell him, loved you for being so open, so generous. You were perfect, at least for him. He wanted more than anything to be perfect for you.

All of a sudden, Thor had a wave of determination wash over him. He could not let you go. He didn't care what his people wanted. He loved you more than anything in the universe. Your time was so finite; his people could wait a human lifetime for a queen. If you'd allow it, if you'd stay with him, he would never let you go, would spend the rest of your life loving you with everything he had, making you happy, keeping you safe.

"Will you move here? Live with me?" Thor hadn't known those words were about to leave his mouth, but that seemed to be a common occurrence around you. That he wasn't expecting them didn't matter; he didn't regret them for a moment.

Your breath caught. Those were probably the second to last words you expected to hear out of his mouth at that moment. The two of you had agreed that the whole thing was doomed, that there was no way to fit into each other's worlds, but here he was asking you to try. Why would you say no? How could you say yes? "My heart says yes." When Thor's face lit up, you wanted to stop there and simply bask in the joy of making him happy. But… "My brain is less convinced that it’s the best idea."

Thor's face dimmed, but he looked interested, as though he considered this a challenge that you could overcome together. "What concerns your canny brain?" he asked, his hand rubbing circles on your back, making you realize how much you'd tensed up.

You smirked a little, amused by the description. "Hmm." The hum was thoughtful but touched with the sigh of pleasure brought about by the feel of his big hand soothing away the tension. "There are a lot of things to consider." You had honestly never considered living anywhere as cold as New Asgard, situated as it was in Norway. You also weren't sure how easy you'd find living amongst people who found you to be a novelty at best and a round-heeled upstart at worst. However, you knew there was no way Thor could live away from his new nation or his people. If you wanted to be with him, you had to be the one to move. There wasn't really a way for him to compromise on this.

To be blunt, it was a lot to ask and you needed to think about it for awhile. You weren't really sure how to say that, however.

The way his people treated you was not lost on Thor. Your irritation with it was not, either. He hated it, but could only demand the appearance of respect, not the reality. "I know some of my people were…" He trailed off, not certain how to describe what amounted to condescension wrapped in disdain poorly covered over with faux respectful manners.

You had no such trouble. "Rude? Insulting? Superior?" You frowned, pursed your lips, then said slowly, "Wait, that was my date."

Thor scoffed out a laugh. This part of your relationship was baffling to him, but in a way that he recognized, as he didn't really understand his own affectionate/adversarial relationship with Loki, let alone yours. "I don't know how you're friends."

"I have a wicked and devious side." You smiled slowly and mischievously, and Thor recognized the smile that you seemed to reserve for Loki. He wondered if the intimacy he saw in that smile was the part of you that related to Loki, that empathized with him. He wondered if he feared that intimacy only because it was one he couldn't share. He wondered if that was fair when you and he shared an intimacy that was far deeper than that you had with Loki.

You went on, unaware of the epiphany happening in Thor's mind. "You don't notice because I distract you with my tits." Thor's gaze immediately dropped. He wasn't disappointed as you'd chosen a particularly low-cut blouse, expecting to spend the majority of this, your last day here, in Thor's rooms and saw no reason to not put the goods on display. "See? Devious."

Thor's face followed his gaze, directly into your cleavage. He brushed his lips over the curves of your breasts as he replied. "I am easily distracted by your tits." Your hands came up to fist in his hair. You hadn't deliberately changed the subject, but you weren't sorry, either. Except Thor lifted his head to look into your eyes. "But not so easily distracted that I haven't noticed you avoiding the question."

"I’m not." You pouted a little when Thor simply lifted a skeptical eyebrow. "Exactly."

You combed your fingers through his hair, luxuriating in the silken feel of the longer locks running through your hands. You’d loved the shorter look, but Thor was hilariously precious about his hair. It was already long enough on top to really tug. Breathing deep, you brushed your lips over his forehead, temples, cheeks, trying to soften what you were about to say.

“Thor, I love you.” Your voice was as gentle as a caress, your heart quaking in fear that you’d unwillingly hurt him. “But I have a job, family and friends, a life back in New York.” You shook your head and shrugged, your lips twisting to match your confused shrug. "I don’t know if there’s a way to make it all work and I’ve never been the type to give up everything for a man." When he opened his mouth to speak, you held up a finger to indicate you weren't done. "On the other hand, you are not a typical man and it is not a typical situation. Like I said, it’s a lot to consider."

Thor smiled gently and lifted his hand to cup your cheek. His palm was huge and covered most of your face, making you feel downright delicate. You turned your lips to his palm and nuzzled there as his thumb swiped over your cheekbone. "Of course," he rumbled. He couldn't believe he hadn't immediately considered all of that. As much as he wanted to keep you, he knew you weren't a treasure or trophy to be locked away for only him to hoard. You were a person, with your own universe outside of who you were to him. He kissed you softly, his lips impossibly tender. "I understand."

So muddled by the exquisite feel of Thor's lips moving against yours as he spoke, you forgot to censor your thoughts, but spoke them aloud as they occurred to you. "You do?" The way he spoke, the look on his face, everything down to the way he held you told you he wasn't angry, that he accepted your reasons. "Huh. You really do."

Something about it hit you like a ton of bricks. You couldn't let this one go. This man got you in a way that no one ever had before. You realized that you wanted what he wanted, to stay together, no matter what it took. You had assumed that you couldn't mesh your worlds for any meaningful amount of time. You were becoming determined to test that assumption. "I want to. Let me see if I can find a way to have my cake and eat it, too."

Thor was unconsciously rocking very slightly back and forth as he buried his face in the curve of your neck. "I don't know what that means," he replied against the hollow of your collarbone, his lips sending chills down your spine. You adored how sensual Thor was. He could and would spend hours ever so slowly arousing you in just this way, warm and tender touches while the two of you discussed any and everything. You had never discussed anything this vital in this way before, however, and a small voice in your head insisted that you were letting your judgement be clouded by those soft, full lips and big, warm hands. That voice could not get the rest of you to care.

You were turning to rub your breasts against his chest. Just because Thor could and would spend hours working you up didn't mean you'd let him. You could last an hour, tops, if the conversation was particularly interesting, before you broke and insisted he pick up the fucking pace already. You loved him so much. How could you not want to keep him? "It means I love you. It means I'll try."

Thor had not resisted the lure of the loose skirt you wore, but had his hand up under it, his big, warm palm on your hip, his grip almost desperate as he pulled you closer. He lifted his head and took your mouth with a savage kind of tenderness, his lips soft but his teeth sharp. You were both panting when you broke away. "Consider this, as well?" His low rumble was a rasp over nerve endings already scraped deliciously raw. "I ache for you almost as soon as I leave you, every time."

A shudder worked through you at the sound of both love and lust throbbing in the thunder of Thor's voice. Your voice was almost a moan and prompted a matching shudder from Thor. "God, me too. Every time."

The next moment, your lips were as busy as your hands as they began tugging at Thor's clothes.

You didn't last anywhere near an hour.

Part Seven: Sublimation here

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salute-your-sergeant · 6 years

Text

Simple Touches Part 2

Summary: Reader gets worried that maybe Bucky doesn’t want what she thought. Bucky reassures her.

Word Count: 1,987

Warnings: Smut, Marking, A little bit of roughness, unprotected sex, fingering?

18+ ONLY

A/N: The smut is here guys!! I tagged everyone who wanted it and i hope you all love it! Would love feedback! Character tags are open, and so are prompt requests so just send me an ask for both!! ALSO part one is here >> Part One

You and Bucky had been something for a few weeks now, but neither of you had put a label on it. His bedroom had been empty most hours of the day, and was never touched at nights. Everyone seemed to want to ask questions, but no one ever voiced them, not wanting to break what little security Bucky had found.

Though everyone else had become content in ignoring a title for the two of you, as the weeks passed you began to get antsy, wondering if you were ever going to have that discussion. Wondering if Bucky wanted to take that step forward. You’d find yourself staring at the ceiling late at night, when Bucky’s head was nuzzled into your neck, his hands gently tangled into your hair. He had made a habit of stroking your hair back in his sleep, wanting to give you as much comfort as he gave you.

You would spend hours wondering if this was really what Bucky wanted, or if you had just become a replacement for the comfort he had once sought with Natasha. It would bring you to a point of panic, where you would feel the need to run away. But as you began to stir, each night Bucky would curl deeper into your body, kissing the closest skin he could find as his fingers worked more soothing circles into your hairline.

One night, you couldn’t take it anymore. You sat up straight, causing Bucky to rush into consciousness, his eyes flitting across the room as he looked for danger. When all he saw was you sitting, your breathing fast and uneven, he began to panic slightly, gripping your hand gently.

“(Y/n), what is it?” He whispered, afraid that anything louder might spook you further.

“Am I a rebound?” The words rushed from your lips before you could think them through. Bucky’s eyes widen drastically. So much so that you almost calmed down enough to giggle at his startled expression. But then you remembered the cause of the reaction and you began to panic once again.

“Baby, what are you talking-” you interrupted him before his sentence was even fully processed in his own mind.

“You haven’t asked me to be your girlfriend. You just told me you loved me, and we now we act like a couple but you haven’t made any moves to go further than this. And when this started you had only just broken up with Nat, and maybe you’re just using me to stop loving her and-” Before you could take a breath, Bucky’s lips pressed gently to yours, his metal hand came up to cup your cheek, stroking the skin in a calming manner. The sweet act brought tears to your eyes, your lip quivering between his own.

When he pulled away his face was plastered with a soft, understanding smile, his eyes were filled with love.

“(Y/n), I just didn’t want to rush things. That’s what I did with Nat, and that ended up with my heart being torn out of my chest. I need you in my life, and I didn’t want to risk losing you.” He said, his thumb stroking over your cheek bone.

You sighed gently, wiping at the tears in your eyes. “I’m sorry Buck, I’ve just never been in this situation before and I was scared.” You whispered, pressing your cheek deeper into his palm.

“It’s okay, baby,” He smiled, leaning a little closer. “So, was that you asking me to be your boyfriend?” He chuckled as you blushed deeply, deciding to nod, looking up at him with wide, innocent eyes.

His smile just grew as he leaned in further, whispering a soft, “Yes,” against your lips before kissing you again. You let your hands slid up his bare chest, then around his neck to slide into the ends of his long hair. When he felt your hands against his neck a soft moan slipped between his lips, the kiss becoming a little more desperate.

You giggled a little as his teeth tug on your bottom lip, a soft growl escaping from his chest before he pulled away, his eyes a little wide. “Sorry..I..I don’t know why I did that,” He chuckled a little more before you both fell into a fit of giggles.

After you both calmed down, you took his flesh hand, sliding it up your thigh softly, his breath hitching as he watched you carefully. His chest began to move up and down quickly as you leaned closer, pressing your lips to his exposed neck. His tilted his head back a little, whimpering softly at the feeling.

“I don’t wanna hurt you, doll,” He whispered, his grip on your thigh tightening as he fought with himself.

“I trust you,” You whispered, leaning back up to capture his lips in yours.

You weren’t sure if the words soothed his worry, or if he was just too lost in your skin against his, but his metal hand reached to tangle in your hair as he lifted you into his lap with the other. You squealed a little at the sudden movement before giggling against his lips. “You’re a little cheeky aren’t you?”

His lips moved from yours, pressing against your cheek, then your jaw, and traveled down your neck, causing your giggled to turn into a loud moan. You felt his lips turn up into a smirk against your skin, his hand tugging your head back gently by your hair.

The groan he made as you began to grind your hips down against his was sinful, but equal parts heavenly. His gave your neck a soft bite before moving back your lips, letting himself be a little rougher this time.

You moaned against his lips as his hands both made their way to your hips, then gently sliding under your shirt, causing you to shiver. You pulled away, causing him to pout. His face turned into a wide grin as you slipped your shirt over your head, tossing it into the darkness of the room. His eyes got darker at the sight of your naked top half. They stayed focused on your breast as he ran his fingers over your stomach.

“You weren’t wearing a bra,” He mumbled, your head shaking side to side as an answer. “You’re fucking beautiful.” He growled out.

“Language,” You giggled as he tackled you down into the mattress, letting his lips latch onto your exposed chest.

You moaned, your right hand tangling into his hair, your left gripping his shoulder. “Bucky, please.” You whimpered. His lips moved down your body, a little quicker than he would have liked to go, but he was tired of slow. He was tired of everyone watching him be this soft, gentle, shell of who he used to be. So instead of sitting and cherishing every piece of your skin he could touch, he nipped at your hips as he tugged down your night shorts.

He smirked when you gasped at the cool night air against your skin. His lips ran over your thighs, licking every now and then, sometimes stopping to suck marks into the skin. When his we having trouble keeping you still, he moved back up your body, kissing your lips before sliding his own pants and boxers off.

“Are you wet enough for me?” He whispered, letting his flesh hand slide into your panties, running between your folds and landing on your clit, rubbing in small, slow circles. The gasp that left your lips had his cock twitching.

When you bucked your hips into his hand he pulled away, ripping the sides off of the fabric and throwing it into the room while you gaped at him.

“What the hell, Bucky?!” You yelled before he giggled, whispering, “Language,” Against your lips, thrusting his bare cock against your core.

Your breathing picked up as he moved slowly, teasing the hell out of you. You whined, tugging on his hair a little roughly as he chuckled.

“Okay, okay,” He laughed, stroking himself a few times before lining up to your entrance. He looked at you, his eyes turning softer as he asked if you were sure.

You nodded frantically, causing Bucky to smile fondly as he let himself enter you slowly. You both let out moans louder than you expected, you each reaching up to cover the others mouth before giggling loudly.

Bucky slowly let himself slide all the way into you, his head falling into your neck as he tried to breath.

“Why are you so fucking tight?” He asked, holding your hips down to stop you from moving.

“Been a while,” You mumbled before wiggling your hips impatiently. “Now move,” You whined.

Bucky didn’t hesitate after that to start moving, but he went very slow. He sat up more, cupping the back of your neck as he moved against you. Your faces were so close, you could feel his breath mingling with your own as you both moaned.

You started moving your hips along with his, causing his eyes to roll with pleasure.

He leaned down, running his lips gently over yours, but not kissing you. “Love you so fucking much, you know that? You’re my beautiful Princess. Never gonna let you go,” He whispered against your skin, causing you to moan loudly.

The closer you both got, the harder Bucky’s grip became on your hips. After a while, his thrusts began to speed up, your moans getting louder as he reached to rub your clit.

“Fuck, I’m so close Bucky,” You cried out, his response a simple nod and a grunt of “Me too.”

“Please Bucky. Want it,” You gasped as his thrusts became sloppy and uneven.

“You first,” He whispered, leaning down to bite your neck, throwing you over the edge with a loud, breathy scream.

Bucky growled as he felt your walls pulse around him, his hips slamming into yours a few more times as he came, wrapping his arm around you to pull you closer.

After you had both come down from your highs, Bucky sighed softly, nuzzling deeper into your skin, whispering, “Mine,” before you both fell asleep.

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

The next morning you woke up, a wide smile on your face as you thought to the night before. You rolled out of bed, walking to your bathroom to shower. Bucky usually got up to work out pretty early, it was rare for him to be there when you got up.

As you passed your bathroom mirror, you did a double take, backing up to look at your reflection. Hickeys littered your skin, in more places than you could count. The biggest one being on the right side of your neck, the skin dark red and slightly swollen. Your hips even had a few finger shaped bruises that made you bite your lip, remembering Bucky’s hands on your skin last night.

You smiled and continued on to your shower, getting ready for you day. You had tried and failed to cover your neck, but shirts were too small, your makeup too light. You figured it didn’t really matter. Sex was a normal thing and no one would really be shocked that you and Bucky had been together, right?

You had been right. Natasha had teased you a bit, mocking the moaning sounds she had heard from next door. Sam had high fived Bucky when he got back from his morning exercise, which made the soldier blush darker than your hickey. And Tony had declared that “Apparently old bags of bones can do some damage,” which made everyone but Bucky laugh.

But then Steve came into the room, smiling brightly as he entered the room with his breakfast before his eyes landed on you...and then your neck. His plate hit the floor, his jaw following as his eyes widened in shock, words you never thought you’d hear from Steve Rogers flowing into the room.

“What the fuck?!?”

Tags: @lilypalmer1987 @senorita-stucky @unamoosed-imagines @irunintospace @bibibucky @desir-ae @delicatecapnerd @im-not-sebastianstan @saharzek @roxytheimmortal

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