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#winter soldier fanfiction
simplyholl · 4 months
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A Night With The Winter Soldier
Summary: You’re sent to be Hydra’s test subject for a new serum.
Pairing: F. Reader x Winter Soldier Bucky
Warnings: Smut. 18+ Only. Minors DNI. Dark Bucky. Non con. Oral. Unprotected sex.
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A/N: I know I don’t usually write for Bucky, but this idea has been stuck in my head for a long time. I’m just tagging my regular tag list, if you’re not into dark fics, please skip! ❤️
Fucked. That’s what you were or at least what you were going to be. You shake your head as you cover your skimpy lingerie with the matching robe your mother gave to you.
Your father is the head scientist for Hydra. He had been working on this experiment for years. He had created a serum that would cause Super Soldiers to want to reproduce. The end result would be a perfect Super Soldier baby. He finally perfected it. Who could be a better test subject than his daughter?
You begged him. You pleaded and cried. It was unfair to expect this of you. But he didn’t care how you felt. He said it was your duty to do as you were told. You didn’t want to make Hydra upset with your family, did you? You knew the horrors that awaited you if you refused. Your best friend, Lilly and her whole family disappeared three years ago when her father refused a command from Hydra. They were brutal and cruel. Sadly, you were used to it.
Hydra came first. Before yourself, before your family, your loyalty had to be unwavering. You knew it wasn’t really your father who had suggested it be you. Your mother told you it was one of the higher ups. He had seen you in your new sundress a few weeks ago and thought you would be perfect to carry the first Super Soldier baby.
It made you sick. How could they do this? You didn’t want to know what would happen if you refused. “At least, he is the strongest Super Soldier. This baby’s genes will be impeccable with the both of you for parents.” Your mother reassured you, as if it would help you feel better.
You weren’t naive. You and the baby would be monitored from the moment you got pregnant. As soon as you gave birth, the child would be ripped from your arms and watched closely. It wouldn’t really be yours.
You take the elevator to the thirteenth floor, heart racing wildly. You were scared. You had seen the Super Soldiers behind glass doors where you were protected from them. Now, you were being offered on a silver platter to the biggest baddest one, like a worm on a hook waiting for a fish to jump after them.
Two guards stand outside the door to the windowless room. Their eyes roam over your barely covered body. They smirk at you as they type in the code to let you in. “Good luck, princess. You’re going to need it.” They evilly laugh as the door opens. Slowly, you walk in, your breath catching in your throat as you hear the steel door bang tightly shut behind you.
The room is dimly lit. A leather chair in one corner, a bed pressed against the wall, there’s a table with a half worked puzzle on it. It was so dreary, your heart aches for the poor guy that called this room home. You walk over to the table, running your hand over the puzzle. That’s when you feel it. Even though you couldn’t see him, you’re not alone. He’s in here with you, hid in the dark corners somewhere. You turn around to find him staring at you.
The Winter Soldier, Bucky Barnes, you had demanded to know his name before you did this. His dark hair hung in waves by his cheeks, his cold blue eyes focused on your body. He was beautiful. You weren’t used to seeing him without the black mask he usually wore. He was shirtless, his silver, metal arm catching your attention. You studied it. The way it looks like it was forcefully put on, the red star on his shoulder. He was always silent, brooding in the shadows. You had never been this close to him.
You reach for his face, wanting to feel him before all this started. His metal arm stops you, cold hand wrapping around your wrist. You squeak when he twists your arm behind your back, walking you toward the table.
He presses you against it, you feel his erection threatening to burst out of his black pants. One swipe of his free hand knocks the puzzle to the floor. Colorful pieces scatter all around you. He lifts you on top of the table, the cold surface making you gasp when your bare legs land on it.
Bucky holds you with his metal arm, the other one makes quick work of your flimsy robe. He grabs your breast through the thin fabric of your lingerie. You squirm under his touch as he pinches your nipple through the lace.
“You don’t know how bad I need this. Been a long time since I’ve had a pretty girl like you in my bed.” You’re shocked when he speaks to you. You had been warned that he wouldn’t talk to you at all. He takes a step back to look at you, zeroing in on your panties.
He pushes your back to the wall, commanding you to stay there. You obey, you didn’t want to upset him and make this worse for yourself. He holds your top in one hand, jerking the material. The sound of it’s ripping, startling you. He was crazy strong. The thought of being manhandled by him sounded better by the second.
Next was your panties, he stripped you of them quickly, pulling you by your legs to the edge of the table. He got on his knees before you, shoving his face to your core. He licks one fat stripe up your center, moaning as he tastes you. He swirls his tongue across your clit, you buck your hips up to get closer.
Bucky pushes you down with his metal arm, ensuring that you wouldn’t be able to move. You accept your fate, laying back as he laps at you. He fucks you with his tongue, his nose rubbing expertly against your sensitive nub. The band tightly wound in your stomach snaps as he drags his wicked tongue across your clit, sucking you between his lips. He doesn’t hold back his moans as your arousal floods his face.
When he emerges, his face is glistening because of you. He wipes it off with the back of his flesh hand. Bucky jerks you off the table, pointing to the cold, cement ground. “On your knees.” You sink down in front of him as he sheds his pants. You’re surprised he hadn’t already taken them off.
You shift on your knees, trying to get comfortable. He could at least offer you a pillow to kneel on or something. You look around, and spot the only one on his bed. You’re about to ask for it, when he pulls your hair roughly, jerking your head toward his throbbing cock. It was huge. The kind of big that would hurt. You open your mouth, trying to take all of him inside.
You choke and gag, spit dribbling down your chin onto your breasts as you struggle. He looks down at you, hand still tangled in your hair. Your jaw aches already and he’s just getting started. He thrusts his hips forward, pushing your head down simultaneously. Tears fill your eyes as he hits the back of your throat. You can’t help the sob that escapes you as he pulls out, only to forcefully push his way back in.
His thumbs follow the tears on your cheeks, your mascara pooling under your eyes making you look like a raccoon. “You look so pretty when you cry.” He coos, while looking at you adoringly. He thrusts three more times, your nails dig into his thighs, a silent plea to stop. He finally pulls out, collecting you from the floor and gently placing you on his bed.
He places one leg over his shoulder, lining himself up at your entrance. He pushes inside and it’s too much. “It’s- you’re too big.” You explain. Bucky moves your other leg, spreading you wider. “You’re gonna take all of it.” He grunts, wedging himself inside you, bottoming out with one thrust. He ignores your pained scream, leaning down to lick your fresh tears.
“So tight. So perfect. Just for me.” He praises in your ear. Finally, the pain subsides. Bucky feels incredible, his thick cock dragging against the spot that makes your head swim. A gush of arousal soaks him as he swirls his metal thumb in circles on your clit.
“Look at you, such a good girl, dripping all over my cock.” You moan, clenching around him, your long nails clawing his back, drawing blood as your second orgasm rips through you. His thrusts grow sloppy as you feel him go still inside you. His hot cum, drips down your legs as he withdraws himself from you.
Bucky swipes it with his index finger, rubbing it with his thumb. He brings it to your lips, you swirl your tongue around his long digit, loving the way he tastes. You’re caught off guard when his icy, metal hand collects as much cum as he can, stuffing it back inside you.
You twitch, trying to pull away from the cold hand on your heat. “Ah ah ah.” He scolds. He presses his cool thumb to your clit, toying with the oversensitive pearl. “You have to take every drop.” When he’s satisfied with his work, he makes you lay on your back so it doesn’t drip back out.
You close your eyes, the sweet promise of sleep taking over you. You are almost in dream land when you feel the familiar nudge of Bucky’s cock at your sore center. “What are you doing?” You ask, too tired to fight him. “I’m not finished with you yet, doll.” He smiles wickedly, snapping his hips to fill you again.
Tags
@lokisgoodgirl @fictive-sl0th @lokidbadguy @ozymdias @cindylynn @cakesandtom @eleniblue @marygoddessofmischief @mochie85 @goblingirlsarah @wheredafandomat @freegardenbanananeck @lokidokieokie @l0ki3000 @multifandom-worlds @alexakeyloveloki @ladymischief11 @kats72 @mischief2sarawr @lamentis-10 @loz-3 @litaloni @lulubelle814 @iamlokisgloriouspurpose @avengersfan25 @silver-tongue-taken-to-bed @mybugabomlb @bunny24sstuff @luthien-elvenia-asher @gruftiela @asgards-princess-of-mischief @weirdothatwritess
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heytheredelulu · 12 days
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I was wondering if you could do maybe a like feral Bucky? Like maybe they trigger the soldat and instead of him fallowing their orders he goes after the shy curvy little intern of Tony’s? They’ve both been too shy to make a move. I’m cool with whatever spin you put on it, I LOVE your writing.
(Love all your normal kinks so feel free to add those too as you see fit! )
Thank you lovely 🥰 Can’t wait to drool over more of your writing lol
I took this and RAN with it.
It ended up becoming much longer than I had anticipated so this one will be broken up into two parts.
I struggled with trying to incorporate Bucky being triggered after the reader already being somewhat aquatinted with him, pining after him, etc. so I went the route I did and I hope it fulfills your request!
Part one will be mostly just plot building with a spicy cliff hanger leading us into a part two of pure smut.
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Ready to Comply - Part One - Anon Request
Bucky Barnes x Plus Size Reader
ALL OF MY WORK IS 18+
Word Count: 2.5k
C/W: Language, discussion/implications of violence and murder, choking, blood (Bucky is strugglin’ and bites his own hand), a lil sexual tension in prep for part two, he sniffs her coochie, okay?
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“Okay, stop. Stop that.” Tony whispered out of the corner of his mouth. You shot him a glance and tugged at your skirt one more time for good measure. He lets out an exasperated sigh and rolls his eyes. “You look fine, Rookie. Very professional. Is that what you needed to hear?”
You scoff and shake your head. “That’s no- I’m not fishing for compliments, I genuinely hate dressing like a fucking secretary.” You grumble, drawing a laugh out of Tony. “And don’t call me ‘Rookie.’” You add with a prod to his chest. He brushes the front of his suit jacket sarcastically in response to your poke and raises his hands defensively, a soft chuckle rising from his throat.
“A fucking secretary? Really? It’s business professional. Did you think I could let you stand next to me in a press conference wearing an old t-shirt and some torn up jeans? We need to create a semblance of professionalism.” He gestures to his own attire with a grin and there’s a teasing glint in his eye as he continues.
“And what’s wrong with ‘Rookie’? You’re my little protégé.” He jests, reaching like he’s going to pinch your cheek as if you were some adorable little toddler. You frown, swatting his hand away and brings it to his chest, clutching it dramatically. “Wow, you’re going to assault your friend, mentor and extremely rich and handsome boss?” He jokes, feigning offense.
“The only accurate adjective in that sentence is ‘boss’, Sir.” You reply dryly, crossing your arms. The corners of his lips twitch into a sly smile and he nudges you with his elbow. “I’ll accept if you don’t agree with friend and mentor.” He starts, pressing his lips into a pout. “But I might actually get a little offended if you refuse to acknowledge how devastatingly handsome I am.”
You groan in annoyance and roll your eyes, preparing a witty comeback when Pepper Potts rounds the corner with a tablet cradled in her arm, a phone nestled between her ear and shoulder and an expression of concern written across her face.
“Everything alright?” Tony asks, placing a hand on his wife’s shoulder. “Don’t tell me.. another offer for People’s ‘sexiest man alive’? I keep telling them, I can’t be on the cover every ye-“ Tony stops mid sentence as Pepper’s manicured forefinger lands on his lips, effectively silencing him.
“Yes. Okay. Understood. Thank you.” She says curtly into the phone before disconnecting the call. “That was Fury. We have an issue. A Barnes issue.”
Your brows furrow at this. “What’s happened with Bucky?” You ask, a sense of dread creeping up your spine. He’d been all but isolated since he’d moved into the Avenger’s tower alongside his best friend Steve Rogers and you couldn’t imagine him being the source of an issue with how reserved this man was. You weren’t at all oblivious to his past- it had been global wide news after all, but in the months since his de-conditioning in Wakanda he had been making great strides towards recovery, working to make amends.
Though your interactions with the ex-assassin had been few, he’d always been polite and kind towards you. You’d felt so out of place among the Avengers, being Tony’s intern. You weren’t on the team, hell, a few of them didn’t even know your name despite you having been trailing behind Tony for the last year. Maybe it was your own fault, considering you hadn’t really made an effort to talk to any of them but aside from the fact that they were all extremely intimidating, you were naturally a shy and quiet person.
You quickly push the self deprecating thoughts from your head. You didn’t care about any of that. You shouldn’t. It wasn’t as if you wanted to be on the team, or were there to make friends, you were here as an engineer, to learn from who was arguably the most intelligent man on the planet. Perhaps that’s why Bucky had always been cordial to you more than some of the others living here. Maybe he gravitated towards you, as someone who constantly felt so out of place, because he felt that way here as well.
Or maybe he thought you were cute.
Oh fuck, if only.
You couldn’t deny your attraction to the man or that you’d been quietly crushing on him practically since you’d started your internship. Every small interaction with Bucky left a blush on your cheeks and a kaleidoscope of butterflies flitting about your belly.
The thought of someone as absurdly good looking as Bucky fucking Barnes finding you attractive was enough to spark a surge of heat straight to your abdomen.
No, get it together. Now’s not the time.
You mentally scold your vagina for having the nerve to throb at the mere mention of Bucky Barnes regardless of the context and turn your attention back to Pepper and Tony as they argued in hushed whispers.
“What’s happened with Bucky?” You repeat, knowing they likely won’t clue you in if it’s related to Avenger’s business.
Tony offers a nervous smile and exchanges a quick glance with his wife before he checks his watch. “Terminator? He’s fine. I’m sure it’s nothing. Probably holed up with security for setting off the metal detector.” He pauses and then snaps his fingers. “Or maybe he walked past the junkyard on fifth and got snatched up by the hydraulic magnet.” He says, lifting a hand and miming a crane.
Pepper lets out a soft sigh and your gaze flicks to her. “Yeah, a big magnet or something.” She mumbles, turning her attention back to her tablet. “I don’t think that’s-“ Your cut off by Tony’s hand on the small of your back, urging you forward. “Enough about Robocop. We’re on, Rookie.” He says, his nervous expression falling away and quickly being replaced with a mask of professionalism. “Let’s go unveil our project to the press.” Pepper moves to open the door for you both and before you can open your mouth to tell Tony that if he calls you ‘rookie’ one more time you were going to strangle him with his overpriced tie, your senses are overwhelmed with an onslaught of overlapping voices and camera shutters.
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You toss your blazer over the desk in your quaint office and slump over into the chair, trying not to let your mind run wild with anxious thoughts about the press conference. Despite your best efforts you couldn’t help but worry that you probably looked like a deer in headlights up at the podium alongside Tony.
You huff and rest your chin on the back of your hand, glancing over at the computer screens. Your attention is immediately drawn to security footage from one of the conference rooms when you see movement on the monitor. You lean in with your brows furrowed. It’s late and no one should be in the conference room. You expand the image and can clearly make out Tony and Steve moving about the room with tense body language.
You hover over the footage with your mouse and hesitate. You know that you absolutely should not eavesdrop on the two men but once Tony’s hands begin angrily gesturing around you give in to temptation and turn on the audio.
“What the hell do you mean, ‘back up?’” Tony shouts, beginning to pace the room.
Steve leans forward with his palms on the table and his head bowed slightly. “It’s exactly what I said, Tony.” He replies, his biceps flexing as he grips the table. “HYDRA had a fail safe. They’d planted a back up activation incase he would ever manage to be deprogrammed.” He looks up at Tony with a solemn expression. “They got to him. I should’ve been there, I should’ve-“
Tony holds out a hand, his other resting against his temple as he tries to comprehend what Steve is telling him. “Well you weren’t and they did so know we have to figure out how the fuck we navigate this.” He says firmly, shaking his head. “Do we have eyes on him? Is he in the building?”
Steve sighed and stood upright from the table. “No. He’s in the wind. We lost contact with him a few hours ago.” He admits, running a hand through his hair. “But there’s something you need to know.” He adds, looking at Tony with concern as he begins to pace again.
“Well spit it out, Rogers!” Tony yells, stopping and turning back to Steve.
“Nat received some intel. The hit HYDRA ordered is on you and your intern.” He says so quietly you can barely pick it up on the audio. Fear crawls up your spine and your hand trembles as you increase the volume on the security feed, while your heartbeat in your ears becomes near deafening.
Tony stiffens, slowly approaching Steve. “You wanna tell me why?” He asks, his voice low and dangerous. Steve nods. “The new tech you unveiled today.“ He explains.
Tony sighs, understanding why one of their enemies would be threatened by what the two of you had been working on and reaches to loosen his tie. “I’ll take Pepper and move her to the safe house before I meet you at a rendezvous point. Send someone to get my Rookie and get her off the grid. I don’t want her alone for a single second.” He says in an exasperated tone, reaching into his suit jacket and pulling out his cell phone as he stalks towards the door.
“And Rogers?” He asks, turning around one last time, his hand curled tight around the doorknob. Steve’s head snaps up and he looks at Tony with guilt ridden eyes. “Yeah?”
“Find Barnes.”
Find Barnes.
The statement echoes in your ears, sending your thoughts spinning as if a category five hurricane were waging inside your head.
No. No, no, no.
There’s a hit out on you?
To be carried out by the fucking Winter Soldier.
Oh you were so fucked.
You scoot your chair back, bracing your hands on the desk to stand with wobbly knees.
Bile rises in your throat as you take a slow step backwards, bumping the chair in your state of panic and knocking your jacket off the workbench. You jump at the sound of it slipping to the floor and clutch your chest as a result of inducing your own jumpscare and take slow breaths to steel your nerves before you bend down to pick it up. As you rise back upright, your gaze connects with a pair of vacant, icy blue eyes in the shadows across the room and your entire body seizes in terror.
He’s not in the wind.
He’s been in here with you this entire goddamned time.
“B-Bucky?” You stutter, bringing your jacket to your chest and grasping it until your knuckles turn white. Maybe Steve and Tony were wrong. Maybe Nat’s intel was wrong. Maybe this was all a huge misunderstanding and you weren’t about to die at the hands of the ex-assassin you’ve been pining over for nearly a year.
He takes a step forward from the shadows, his face expressionless and his eyes unblinking without a single trace of emotion behind them.
Okay, yeah. You’re fucked.
“Sergeant Barnes?” You whisper, almost a plea to the man you knew, locked away somewhere in the brain of the cold and calculated killer standing in front of you.
He doesn’t speak, doesn’t register your words, as he crosses the lab in a few quick strides and catches your throat in his cybernetic hand.
Oh god.
The air leaves your lungs, his grip tightening around your windpipe as his face remains blank.
You’re going to die.
So why are you so fucking turned on?
Heat pools low in your abdomen, your core flooding with arousal, coupled with fear and unbridled lust.
Your mouth falls open in a silent cry as you gasp and thrash in his grip, your thick thighs rubbing together with every kick and flail, doing nothing to alleviate the throbbing ache in your cunt.
God this is so wrong.
His brows furrow, the first hint of emotion since he stepped out of the shadows. His head tilts inquisitively and his grip slackens around your throat as he leans in, tracing his nose across your jaw line and inhaling deeply. You still, your face contorting in confusion as you swallow hard against his palm, leaning your body into his hold.
His eyes narrow as he pulls away from you and you take the opportunity to suck in a breath, massaging your neck gently while your gaze drops to observe his hands clenching and unclenching into fists at his sides.
“Bucky?” You ask, wondering what’s caused the sudden shift in his demeanor, wondering if maybe he’s somehow snapped out of the trance he’d been in. He’s still and silent for a long moment, his head bowed as his chest rises and falls heavily with every breath.
“Sergeant Barnes, are yo-“
His head snaps up, effectively silencing you.
Your mouth remains agape, stuck on your last word and as he watches you with predatory eyes, taking menacing steps toward you, you can’t seem to find your voice any longer. You stumble backwards, losing your balance and falling back against the desk, unable to regain your footing before his hands grip the flesh of your bare thighs.
He tilts you backwards, your back colliding hard with the surface of the desk, stealing the breath out of your chest. He drops to his knees, splaying his palms against your thighs, the hem of your dress rising up to expose your panties as he spreads your legs wide before him and drags his nose across the fabric.
He groans.
He fucking groans.
“You’re my mission.” He breathes out, eyes wild and fingers digging into the flesh of your thighs as if he were fighting to physically restrain himself.
“I know.” You whimper, lifting your head to look down at him over the soft curve of your stomach.
“I’ve been ordered to kill you.” He chokes out, pressing his forehead against your inner thigh and drawing in a deep and shuddering breath.
“Then why haven’t you?” You ask in a broken whisper.
He turns his head and mumbles something incoherently, his breath ghosting against the damp fabric of your underwear and sending a wave of arousal crashing through your core. He stiffens, curling his flesh hand into a fist and bringing it to his mouth, biting down on his knuckles as he swallows back a moan.
He shakes his head, his teeth pressing into his skin hard enough to draw blood and you move to sit up, leaning on your palms as you look down at him where he’s slotted between your legs, visibly trembling.
He rises quickly to his feet, his left hand shooting out to curl around your neck again and he drops his bloodied flesh hand to his side.
“Because..” He says through clenched teeth, inhaling sharply as the cool metal of his thumb strokes the column of your throat.
“I can’t fucking focus when all I can smell-“
His free hand roughly cups your pussy over your panties, his voice trailing off as he kneads his palm against the thin, wet fabric.
He growls, tightening his grip around your throat and jerking you up to him, forcing you to meet his threatening gaze.
His expression grows pained and he whimpers, dipping his head to meet your forehead with his own, his breath fanning across your face with every heave of his chest.
“All I can smell is how wet you are.”
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Part two
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samodivaa · 7 months
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Training Techniques
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Winter Soldier x Reader He is not allowed to move an inch—he can only watch you pleasure yourself—but why is there a ring on your finger?
Warnings - smut, light angst, mastrubation(f), rough sex, choking, breeding kink Words - 2600 ⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄ You have absolutely no pleasure in the work in which you sometimes so madly indulge—training the assets with delicacy of words with which their handlers don’t approve of—Soldat is your favorite, with his expression of endless and unconditional gratitude and a silent promise of complicity unto death—he may not remember your face, but he always remembers your voice, its' gentleness. The soporific air of your room, in the soft breath of bread and sweets—he was sent there, because he was misbehaving again.
It has not been in the pursuit of pleasure that you have periled this life and reputation—but here you are—on your bed trying to sleep when you see him sitting on the chair, waiting. And this isn't a romance. You're not a damsel in distress and he is not the handsome prince who comes to save you—this is his desperate attempt to escape from torturing memories, from a sense of insupportable loneliness and a dread of the impending doom, but they didn’t know that.
You know.
He can't stop looking at you—Soldat is gazing at a distant star. It's dazzling, but the light is from tens of thousands of years ago, because he is not allowed to move until you instruct him to.
Subconsciously, he licks his lips at the sight at your body in a night dress and wonder if he will ever just cum in your mouth as you suck him off to your knees…or if he’ll take you by the hair before he’s finished and fuck you into a sobbing heap before blowing his load. It doesn’t seem worth the risk —but he wanted this for so long now, he needs to voice it.
“Please-” —an irrational and indulgent mistake. you stand up on your elbows in shock at the word he utters—his eyes drift leisurely back up to your face and his lips twitch. Soldat has fallen into a state of feverish lust, but that is not a justification for his disobedience. His heart goes into a shameless delirium when your eyes meet. “Desperate?” you mock, but underneath the mockery Soldat finds a reservoir of understanding. You lay back on the bed as nothing has happened, and your voice takes on a restful strength “I still need to punish you for that, Winter” He behaves as naturally, with such discretion, that he does not lose his composure, not even when you remove your wedding ring—who committed the impertinence of marrying you? He goes through a crisis of disappointment, fury, jealousy, but this is your way of giving Soldat a layer of respect—he wants to call it loyalty. And maybe you can be his or maybe you will be entwined in this sexless foreplay tonight.
He wants to ask so many questions, but he can’t. Not now. There is a pent-up curiosity, hysteria of his unsatisfied needs, unnaturally suppressed communion and also a kind of tense respect, because if he is obedient enough—he will be rewarded.
“You will watch me, that's all you will do for now” you say, your voice has sunk to a whisper. Your words stoke a warmness in his stomach, a fire in his crotch. And he doesn’t care what you will do with him—even if you want to cut him, sharpen him however you please—that's all he knows anyways. He wants this memory to stay what it is, one intense moment, something that is strong and sweet enough to stand on its own. Your room has turned into an idyllic paradise for a good many years, your skin glistening in the light coming from the slits in the blinds as your hands play with your breast through the nightgown. He has lost his voice and a thread of cold sweat runs down the path of his spine, suffocating with heat, because of the black leather clothes—the stiff collar and the tight harness that is restricting his breathing, is becoming increasingly annoying.
His eyes are growing moist with indignation, with angry impotence, and for the first time, he is barely controlling himself. It is the natural sequel of an unnatural beginning—he needs to be patient, but it’s hard—not harder than his cock—It's more erotic, more intense to watch you touch yourself. He is master of what he does, but never of what he desires. You are greatly overestimating his self-control. But this is what you are testing tonight—his ability to subordinate the impulse to fuck you. Self-control might be as passionate and as active as the surrender to passion, but you need to show him who is in charge while your panties are becoming steadily slicker. All you need to do is to tell him to come, but you refrain from doing the thing you want so badly—to be consumed by Winter. You glance up to find his eyes blazing with raw need—blue orbits pleading for you to command him. You spread your legs open, positioning yourself in front of him—one hand still toying with your nipple while the fingers of the other hook in your panties and drag them down your legs slowly before throwing them in his direction. His breath stutters as they land on his left boot and Soldat eyes them wickedly, knowing that all he can do is watch. 
"Good, very good, Soldat '' you coo, sliding two fingers into your core, scissoring and stretching, curling over the one sweet spot—imagining his metal digits. You remove them as your index finger takes their place, rubbing slow, torturous circles on your clit, sliding down to tease your opening, then back up. Over and over again.
He slides his tongue across his teeth, remembering the taste of your nectar, becoming more and more aroused with every beat of his heart that runs down his shaft.
“I want you so much, gosh” he is stirred by the lust in your smooth voice. You are breathing deep with your mouth wide open—he doesn’t blink, he doesn’t dare blink. Soldat can swear he feels the pressure of your palms on his cheeks—or is it a memory? Everything is a memory to him. “I want you here, fucking me” There is something raw and pleading in your voice that surpasses sexual desire, these fleeting moments of carnal craving.
With the auspicious attention of a strained killing machine, he examines your fingers, your shivering body and listens to your muffled moans meticulously. It is such a tumultuous and intemperate invasion to his mind—your scandalous behavior is pulling at every string of his nerves and self-control.
It is such a prolonged act, so meticulous, so rich in all aspects as you are giving yourself over to the deserved adoration of your own body and pleasure. It leaves Soldat breathless at the tremendous spectacle of your nudity and lack of shame as you bring yourself closer to the edge.
“Jesus-I am so close” You confess, surprised at how fast the arousal is budding. You arch your back and hips buckle like an electric current runs through your body, moaning, rubbing your clit faster, forcing yourself to let out a louder moan. The orgasm wrecks your body from head to toe and being watched by a ferocious male is exciting—all he needs is a feeling as primitive and as simple as that of love.
You see his eyes, still unblinking and you feel menaced by some invisible danger—you are keenly aware of every movement, every breath you take. Lust is a weed that grows in the vacant lots of an abandoned mind and the stacks of bad words that you have been forced to swallow, spills “Soldat, come here” you command, languid and serious.
You lick your lips, trying to quench the thirst for him. Your throat is dry as you watch him between your spread legs, getting up and slowly coming towards the bed as his thick, black pants fall to the floor around his feet, the belt clattering noisily. Winter craws on top of you and he cannot articulate a word, capable only of an animal sound, a strangulated wheeze that shocks him deeply, enraging him, this sudden loss of the faculty of speech that feels somehow bestial and forgotten. He breathes, his chest rising and falling so close to yours.
“Kiss m-” you whisper the words, and before you even finish saying them, his mouth is on yours and you are melting under his lips, eyes flutter shut—and it is blissful oblivion—giving you the most intense and explosive kiss you two have ever shared. With the coldness of his lips and the warmth of his tongue beneath yours, you vow an endless bliss. He pulls back with a groan—Winter’s sky-blue eyes stare back into yours, and in his eyes you can see no parting from you. You put your hands on either side of his face, and the room falls away. You have never gotten so lost in a kiss before. And the kiss is not gentle. It is a wrestle of who would lead the excursion into the territory of passion and ecstasy, heat and unending craving for one another. You suck on his lower lip between your teeth and he lets out a low groan. It sounds almost aggravated and definitely impatient. Fire looks into his quiet eyes, touches his dear, familiar face—you lean upwards for a moment and dip your head towards his ear, grazing his soft skin with your teeth, while your hand slides to the harness. Soldat stills, angling his mouth towards your bare, perfect neck. You feel a warm slickness on your skin, his tongue trailing a path towards your shoulder.
It is a wild, animalistic compulsion, an urgent need as he suddenly slots himself between your legs and you turn your head away. Your fear is returning, crawling through your limbs and leaving you numb to everything. You shut your eyes, gripping the sheets, and whimper when he pushes himself inside you. He releases a ragged breath before moving, slow but with purpose, and you simply take it with soft whimpers and gasps as he pumps in and out of you, now starting to set a steady pace. His eyes, the blue completely gone from his them, soften for a moment and he kisses you tenderly before he whispers in your ear, his breath puffs against your skin. He spends a good amount of time on your neck, a brief stop at the base of your throat—he wants to bite you, but he can’t—something melts inside Soldat that hurts in an exquisite way—you are not his. “Who did you marry, Snow White?” He asks, voice throbbing with menace—before slipping inside you again and burying himself to the hilt. Sex with you this time is different, he has never felt this dominant, this claiming. He is so far in that his balls are right against your lips. You arch your back and moan “It doesn’t matter” as he slides back out nearly all the way before slamming into you hard and fast. You wrap your legs around his waist as he slams into you over and over, the only sound in the room is the skin slapping. You close your eyes and swallow. Your mouth parts and stills—your voice is barely a whisper as his tip touches your cervix. “Pierce…I am closer to ruining his plans, closer to freeing you” Despite your eyelids being tightly shut, a single, hot tear runs out of your eye. You are so angry that it has escaped—so angry—he stops his trusts completely. You moan as you feel his movement out of you. Then, as he almost has the tip fully out, he slaps it back in. When your eyes meet his gaze as you are sitting here staring at each other, time stops. Your fingertips reach to trace the metal shoulder, but he grasps your hand with his own. He leans down, far enough that the ends of his hair brush feather-light against your face, catching in your lashes and tears.
His breath, warm and measured, hits your cheek. Two breaths. Three. Then you stop breathing, and a second later, you feel his lips on your mouth. It is hungry, desperate. His metal hand wraps around your neck, thumb presses into the skin—you moan, it ripples over your nerve endings. His breath caresses your ear again—his grip on your neck tightens. And this makes you always still and submit…the act of Winter taking shameful, contemptuous possession of you is the kind of rapture you want.
“Next time-” you try, but with your restricted of oxygen brain, you are not able to. He tastes passion. He tastes lust. He tastes his power over you. He tastes a world of stimulants he’d never imagined. You are right there in front of him, he can do whatever he wants. Winter loosens his hold—only to observe you as you breathe raggedly, sliding down slowly, a moan ripping from your throat. 
“Next time he calls you in his house, I will be there, too”
I have nothing to give but my heart so full and these empty hands.
“I need to kill them one by one, Winter” His mouth curves into a smile—his eyes are light blue and dancing with life. He pauses for only a fraction of a second. Then he leans forward and presses his lips to yours "Okay, yeah, yeah" a devil-soft whisper. He blinks several times like he is trying to comprehend your plan word by word. His trusts become so hormonal—you want his roughness. His other hand slips to your waist, pushing you into the mattress as he fucks you. For him, sex intimately relates to the most primitive kind of human contact, which can satisfy all of his needs he has been deprived from. "Winter " you gaspe breathlessly "Slow down" You try to let out a choked squeal, but his metal hand tightens around your neck again, muffling any sounds, your toes curling as he brings you steadily closer and closer to orgasm, reeling from the thrill and the fear from both his forceful thrusts of his powerful hips and the choking. Soldat is unrelenting in his domination of your body. But you are his at this moment, your cunt clenching around him while you mewls and grunts fill his ears, he can’t slow down even one bit. Logic would say that this is insane, every other fibre of his being says it's right—he has to fill you up. You can't move. You can't breathe. And his pace. And the adrenaline. “I will cum inside—dear Snow White” This is his demarcation line, all of a sudden it seems unfair to withhold it from you. Your inner muscles tighten as waves of pleasure start to build and ripple out. You don’t normally get off this fast, but you are lost in the exquisite sensations—you put your hands on his metal arm as your body bursts into flames, your fingers curling into the metal. You can’t make a sound and it is a shame, because it is the best orgasm you ever had. It is unbearable, unreal, unimaginable—it is too much as your eyes can only see darkness due to the choking. You can only hear a broken and hoarse cry escaping his lips, his warm come filling you up completely.
You can hear his breath, as your vision slowly becomes solid—a stray lock of dark hair falls into his eyes as he is looking down—he moves his hips back and then into you again, enjoying his cock being in a tub of cum, swimming in your honey.
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warriorofthought · 1 month
Text
I did love you, always!
Summary: Bucky broke up with you but the Winter Soldier still loves you.
Word count: 3103
Warnings: sad, sentimental Feelings 
Winter Soldier x Reader
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You and Bucky broke up recently, even though you always supported him, even through his Winter soldier phase. It didn't even take two weeks before he got together with Sharon. that made you angry, hurt, betrayed.
You were at Bucky’s house because you had to get your stuff, and you both began to argue again because of Sharon.
"At least she treats me like I'm somebody!" he snapped.
"Yeah, I do too but would she love you if you were the winter soldier?!" You yell back.
"Nobody loved me when I was the winter soldier!”
"I do, i did" you mumble and turn around to put clothes from the shelf in a box.
He stops and just stares at you. You can't tell if he heard it. You look at him. 
You stare at each other for a few seconds and you wonder whether it's even something to say now. 
You wait for him to reply, maybe you shouldn't have said anything, now that you realize you might have spoken out of impulse. 
He walks up to you. 
"What did you say?”
"you have heard me!" You say a bit annoyed.
"I love you, even when you change back into the Winter soldier. The winter soldier is not a complete monster, he is also loveable." You sigh.
"But that doesn't matter anymore" you shake your head disappointed and hurt.
He stares at you and seems to be thinking. 
His grip tightens on his fists. He's angry, frustrated, upset. 
Then he sighs.
"You don't know what you're saying and you're just saying this because you're upset." 
He seems to be thinking again, then he continues.
"If i was the winter soldier, you would hate me too.”
"I would not, i have seen you many times as the winter soldier and i didn't hate you, i love you it doesn't matter which one you are. The Winter soldier loves me, the same as you do. He wouldn't kill me." You say and finish up packing your clothes.
"How do you know?" he asks. He's curious now, maybe he's starting to reconsider.
"You don't know that. You say you love me no matter what, but I don't believe you. You're just saying it because you're angry. Because you can't stand me being with Sharon.”
"Yeah, I can't stand you being with Sharon." You snap.
"But I'm the only one that can change you back into Bucky when you go back into Winter Soldier, Sharon can't protect you from that, the Winter soldier, you. He will kill her." 
Before Bucky can say anything Sharon steps into the apartment, his new love.
You glare at Sharon, who's got her hands all over Bucky.
"She can protect herself, she's a trained SHIELD agent." Bucky is getting defensive now. 
"And I can protect her if she needs me to. She understands this. She's not afraid. We're in love, and she trusts me." 
Bucky's really falling for Sharon's charms now.
"Bucky, you don't need to pretend you love someone else, just because you are scared."  You say gentle.  " We both can manage that, we can work on that, together." 
He stays silent for a bit. 
"I'm not pretending anything. With her, it's..." you can hear the joy in his voice. 
"You don't know what it's like when I'm with her, to feel her touch, to hear her smile... It's different with her, I actually want to be with her.” 
You grab your last items and then walk to the front door. " I hope you won't regret that" you say and leave.
He lets you leave, knowing how stubborn you can be when you're upset. But he will regret it. He already does. 
He sits down on the couch in silence. He should go after you, he shouldn't have let you leave like this. 
But then Sharon comes and sits right next to him, putting her arms around his neck, clinging to him.
Timeskip (Three weeks later, you get a call from Sam, telling you Bucky changed back into the Winter soldier and that he is currently destroying the SHIELD base. Sams wants you to come quickly because nobody comes through to the Winter soldier or Bucky. You sigh but still go to the SHIELD base to see what is happening, you even see Sharon there but the Winter Soldier doesn't seem to like her. You stop beside Sam who looks happy to see you here.)
Sam smiles at you, relieved to see you. He knows you're one of the only people who Bucky would actually care to listen to. 
The Winter Soldier is destroying the SHIELD base, tearing things apart and shouting. 
Sharon's nearby, but Bucky seems to have forgotten about her.
"I thought he wouldn't get near Hydra again, that all of you didn't let him go destroying the hydra base as a mission. How wrong did go your last mission?" you say softly to sam.
Sam shrug his shoulders .
"He was on a mission to destroy a hydra base, the one right here, but apparently something went wrong."
You glance at the Winter Soldier. He's still breaking things and shouting. Sam sighs.
"Sharon's trying to talk to him, so far he's not interested..."
"No wonder, Winter doesn't like her" you grumble with a sigh.
Sam sights too.
"He's not usually this bad when he changes back" he explains.
"This time it's different because of... You know..."
"Because of our break up?" You ask gentle.
"Is he not happy with being with Sharon?"
Sam nods. "He's not happy, and he's not handling his emotions well. And the fact that he's still with Sharon... He's confused, he's trying to deny his feelings for you and it's... just making his mind a mess."
You sigh " I will handle that."
Then you step into the room where Sharon and the Winter Soldier are. Sharon looks like a mess.
The Winter Soldier doesn't even blink when you walk in. He's got a look of determination on his face, and his eyes are fixed on Sharon who is trying to talk to him, but Bucky's not interested.
Sharon's hair is all out of place, she looks scared and desperate.
"Winter, do you really need to be so mean to her?" You ask gently and walk closer.
The Winter Soldier stares at you, his eyes filled with rage and frustration.
"Maybe I do. Maybe I want to be mean to her."
Sharon looks at you, and at first it's relief, but she slowly understands that you're not going to defend her.
"Is it because Bucky wants to be with her and you don't?"
The Winter Soldier looks like he suddenly realizes something.
You notice that he's slightly distracted from the idea of hurting Sharon and actually looking at you.
He raises his voice.
"Bucky wants to be with Sharon, but I hate her..."
You slowly nod. But as you want to answer the jet sways a bit and you all stumble a little to the side as the jet tilts to the side.
You don't see how a few metal pipes threaten to fall on you and before that happens, the Winter Soldier is with you and protects you from the falling pipes with his metal arm.
You're shocked by his sudden change of behavior, and also by his sudden reaction. He protects you, making sure you're safe. His reaction is much quicker than yours, or anyone else's and it's clear that all his attention is now on you.
"Winter" you say lovely, your soft eyes meet his. He doesn't change back into Bucky but you see the love that the Winter Soldier has for you.
His eyes meet yours and you feel like he's looking into your soul. The love and affection in his eyes...
He's still standing in front of you, protecting you.
You can feel his warmth and his closeness.
Sharon is looking at you two, her look of desperation gone now, replaced by something else...
"Winter, thank you." You whisper softly.
He nods slightly, clearly understanding that you're thanking him.
Sharon's starting to look angry and jealous now. She's clearly noticed that he paid no attention to her, and was completely focused on you.
This time Sharon starts to mock you.
She points at you and laughs.
"He's just pretending to care about you. He doesn't love you, he doesn't even like you. He's with me, not with you!" it pains you to hear her say those things, to see the contempt in her eyes and hear the jealousy in her voice.
"Yeah, Bucky is in a relationship with you. But that doesn't mean that the Winter Soldier also wants that" you say calm.
Then you all stumble again as the jet swings in the other direction. Winter immediately stabilizes your stand.
You keep talking to him without even reacting to the movement or the danger. You know Winter will always have your back.
Sharon rolls her eyes and laughs.
"Do you really think he'll choose you over me? He needs someone in his life and you're not even there for him. He wants a real relationship, a real woman, not someone like you!"
“I don't care about your opinion, the only thing that is important is that Winter and even Bucky feels comfortable.”
She stares down at the ground, her jaw clenched and her face flushed with anger.
You wonder if she's realizing that her relationship with him isn't as secure as she thought…
Sharon laughs again.
"You're so stupid if you actually believe that. Just look at him! He's in love with me, not with you."
You notice her tone change from mocking to one filled with anger and jealousy.
The jet wobbles even more and Winter has to tighten his grip on you to keep both of you standing. The Winter Soldier keeps protecting you, making sure you don't fall and get hurt.
Before you can react Sharon points her gun at you, your eyes weiden slightly surprised that she would do that infront of everyone else. You even can hear Sam grasp surprised.
The Winter Soldier notices too and immediately raises his arm to block the bullet with his metal arm. 
His eyes flare when he realizes someone's pointing a gun at you and he won't let that happen. 
Sharon is surprised that the bullet doesn't hit you and glares at Bucky who is protecting you.
Sharon yells at you. Then Winter grabs you, you don't even manage to do something else and flee with you out of the big jet towards a helicopter.
The Winter Soldier moves quickly and efficiently, and before anyone can react he's managed to carry you towards a helicopter. 
You're stunned at his speed and agility, but you also notice how much he's paying attention to you. 
By now Sharon must've realized that she lost.
The Winter Soldier is in charge. Not Bucky. 
You can feel his warmth in your arms. His strength as he carries you to the helicopter and then lowers you in. He still stays protecting you, keeping you safe.
Sharon is behind the helicopter, still staring at you with jealousy and contempt but she no longer seems like the same person.
The Winter Soldier seems almost loving towards you, his anger turned into affection.
"Winter?, are you telling me, where we are going?" You ask and let him buckle up the seatbelt around your body and watch him start the helicopter.
The Winter Soldier is focused on starting the helicopter, and he doesn't respond for a bit. He looks at you and you notice his expression is different. The rage is gone.
He's thinking, and you also realize that he's actually considering what he's going to say for once. 
Then he finally speaks.
"We're going home.”
"home?" You mumble and watch him drive the helicopter away from SHIELD.
"Yes." his voice is even more gentle now but there is still the roughness in it, his expression has softened.
He focuses on flying the helicopter. 
"Home, and then we'll talk.”
Timeskip (A few hours later. He lands the helicopter on a farm that is his.)
The Winter Soldier lands the helicopter next to his Farmhouse. 
This is definitely his safe place, you can feel the peace and the comfort.
He turns around to look at you. 
"We need to talk.” You nod and sit down on the couch. The Winter Soldier also sits down in front of you, close enough that it feels like he wants to have physical contact with you. 
He is still in control, not Bucky.
So far everything is different from before, you can feel how much he's calmed down, how much he likes being this close to you. 
"I wanted to apologize…”
"for that what Bucky did? You can't control your other side, Winter. Bucky and you are both in this body, I don't know why Bucky suddenly stopped loving me but It's not your fault, Winter.”
He smiles slightly. Then he moves closer so that his leg is touching yours. His eyes are intense but soft, as if he's really paying attention to every little word you say. 
You have to resist the urge to move a little bit closer.
Then he replies.
"I know I can't control the other side, but I did hurt you.. and I'm sorry…”
You smile softly and cup the face of the Winter Soldier softly.
You slightly wish he would stay being the Winter Soldier, loving you further. You missed him so much, you don't care how rough his side that hydra had caused is because he always is so soft to you, only to you. Bucky himself will go back to Sharon. But this wish is unethical and mean of you to think. You sigh.
"I love you, i haven't stopped doing that.”
His expression softens even more as you cup his face. 
He feels your hand against his cheek, your fingers gently moving along his jawline. 
He leans his head just slightly to the side, leaning a little bit more into your touch.
His hand is moving, reaching out and he's just about to caress your hand, but then he stops, hesitating.
He bites his lip, his gaze lingering on your hand.
He is still the winter soldier, but he's definitely more in love with you than Bucky ever was…
"My Winter, my love. I have missed you so much." You say lovely and put your forehead against his, breathing his scent in. Your hand intertwined with his flesh hand.
The winter soldier doesn't reply, but his arm moves slightly, his fingers wrapping around your hand and holding it tightly. 
You are both very close and you can almost feel him wanting to draw you closer, pull you to him and bury his face into your neck, but he stops, resisting the urge.
His eyes are deep and passionate, he really missed you and his love for you is shining through them. He's breathing a little bit harder, and you can feel his heartbeat increasing.
"Tell me, do you know that i love you Winter, i love the Winter soldier, i even love you as Bucky. Especially, i love you, your heart, your soul. I don't care how the other sees you, I see you as something special.”
He squeezes your hand, as if you didn't even need to tell him, as if he always knew that you loved him.
Your words have reassured him though, and his heart beats a little slower, his breathing becomes more relaxed.
He wants to say it back to you, to tell you how much he loves you. 
But he's still struggling with his identity. He's still deciding which is the stronger side. 
"I love you too..." he whispers.
Your heart warms immediately, having missed to hear this words out of his mouth.
And suddenly, he pulls you closer. He leans his head against your shoulder and wraps his arms around you, his grip tight and loving. 
He smells like the farm, like open air and fresh grass. 
He's holding you, so close and protecting you.
He's the winter soldier, and he doesn't want to let you go.
“I hated what Bucky did to you, he feared things, but that doesn't give him the right to push you away, my lovely flower. I hated it that he tried to suppress me, hated it that he stayed with this woman. I don't like her. Sharon is not you, she doesn't have this glimmer in her eyes as you have when you look at me.”  his voice is rough but soft at the same time and it sends a shiver down your spine.
You hug him back and softly pet his back.
“Don't worry, we have enough time to figure this out.” You say lovely and lean your forehead against his.
He hugs you even tighter, burying his face in your neck, and breathing in your scent.
He has finally decided. The winter soldier is in control. Not Bucky. The moment he's been wishing for has finally come. 
He's not struggling with his identity anymore. He knows who he is.
His hand touches your face, gentle, caressing.
"I'm not letting you go. I don't want to share you with anyone anymore.”
His voice is filled with affection as he looks at you. 
"I've missed you. I've missed being with you. I've missed feeling you..." 
He leans his head against you again, and your breath is intermixed. 
Sharon definitely cannot compare to you in his eyes, she was always just a replacement for you. He doesn't even want to think about her right now. 
His arms are still around you, and your body is pressing against his. It feels so natural that you almost want to stay like this forever…
"I know she's not you." his voice is even rougher now, almost feral.
He presses his face into your neck, his lips just below your ear. 
"She's nothing compared to you... I hate her."
He holds you tighter and you can feel the pure hatred and possessiveness coming out of his every pore. 
This is the Winter Soldier's way to tell you how much you mean to him.
"I don't want to turn back into Bucky. I want to stay the Winter Soldier with you.”
“Winter, we will figure it out soon. Alright?” 
You feel him nod against you, then he moves his body on the sofa and quickly pulls you into his embrace.
You know someday you have to let the Winter Soldier change back into Bucky, but for now you can enjoy your love back in your arms, healing your heart.
531 notes · View notes
navybrat817 · 3 months
Text
Dark and Light
Pairing: Winter Soldier x Female Reader, Bucky Barnes x Female Reader
Summary: You learn the real reason why Hydra wants to keep you.
Word Count: Over 2.65k
Warnings: Threat of dubcon/noncon, minor character death, violence, canon divergent, captivity, brainwashing, slight feels (it's me, okay?), Bucky Barnes (he's a warning, okay?).
A/N: It's been almost 3 years since the last part of Soldat and Sparrow. Are you lovelies still interested? ❤️ Not beta read and written on my phone, so any and all mistakes are my own. Divider by the talented @silkholland . Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog for new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!
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The cell they kept you in this time was larger than your last. It didn't make it any less uncomfortable. The thick gray walls surrounding you made the room suffocatingly quiet and hollow. You only knew the color thanks to the singular lightbulb in the center of the ceiling, too high for you to try and make a weapon out of the glass. Without windows, you didn't know it was dark or light outside.
There was no escape, but you couldn't give up hope.
It was maddening not knowing the time of day as you played the waiting game on the worn mattress in between meals and sleeping. The screams of your lover played on a morbid loop in your mind and you had to will yourself to not let tears surface. Other than temporary relief for your emotions and aching heart, crying would do you no good. It never did.
What you needed to do was focus.
The man on the bridge.
He triggered something inside of the Winter Soldier. Something Hydra wanted to keep locked away. But what was it?
Bucky. He called him Bucky. He knew him. But how?
Two hard knocks on the door pushed the thought away before it swung open. Narrowing your eyes as Brock walked in, you wondered if he could’ve been a good man in another life and fought for the people who needed it most the way he pretended to. This wasn’t that life though. He chose his side.
The wrong side.
“You know, I don’t get it,” he said, crossing his arms as he stood in the doorway. He didn’t hide the lust from his eyes as he looked you over. “I mean, the Asset does his job well, but it’s like he forgets all about being a soldier when he’s deep in your pussy.”
“What can I say? I guess my pussy’s just that good,” you sneered, not in the mood for his taunts or anything else.
“Is that right? Maybe he should fuck your ass next to get the stick out of it,” he snapped back. “Or are you too stuck up for that?”
Pierce had a range of prostitutes lined up to satisfy his soldiers, but Brock didn’t hide how pissed off he was that you were “given” to the Asset after that fateful training day. He claimed it was special treatment. He dropped the issue almost as quickly as it was brought up, which led you to believe he was either reprimanded or given something to shut him up.
“Is that what bothers you, Rumlow? That I'd rather fuck him than you?” You asked, tilting your head as you regarded him. “And just so we’re clear, I’ll never want you.”
Brock clenched his fists as he took a step forward. “You really are a fucking-”
“Let her be,” a melodic voice ordered behind him, making you stiffen as he moved out of the way.
The doctor, or Doc as most called him, stepped into the room with a kind smile on his face. Unassuming in stature, you knew better from the start than to judge him by appearance. The man was a snake in the grass ready to spread his venom to unsuspecting victims.
“How are you?” He asked.
You kept your eyes on him as he moved closer, doing your best not to show any emotion. The doctor somehow made you more uncomfortable than Rumlow and that said something. “How do you think I'm doing?”
“Hmm. Not well, I'm sure.”
“You guessed correctly,” you said.
You didn’t know why he bothered asking. Maybe he thought he was better than the others because he didn't physically hurt you. If anything, his indifference to the evil around him made it worse. It told you that he either justified or accepted it.
Either way, he disgusted you.
“Don't worry. You'll have the Soldat back soon and I’m sure you'll feel all better,” he assured you.
“You wiped him,” you reminded him, your voice cracking.
His screams echoed in your mind again, your heart aching as you tried to block it out. When pain knocked on the door, it didn't wait for an answer. It broke it down and made itself at home. But in the pain Hydra inflicted, the soldier found solace with you and you found the same with him. The light for each other within the darkness.
While you failed to protect him and couldn't stop what they did to his mind, you had to believe you’d help heal his soul once you had him back.
“We did indeed as we have many times.”
You knocked his hand away as he tried to place it on your shoulder, your stomach turning from his words. “Don't touch me.”
He held his hands up in surrender as he took a step back. “I mean no harm.”
“All of you mean harm,” you whispered.
The Soldat was your only bright spot in this nightmare. Ironic that he thought you were fire, bright and warm. The truth was you burned because of him. He was your eternal fuel that made the flames grow.
“I only want what is best for you,” Doc argued, his eyes void of any emotional depth behind his rimless glasses.
“Liar,” you whispered.
An exasperated sigh left his lips. “Now, now. I really do want what’s best for you. Don't you realize how important you are?”
“I'm not important,” you said. You never were. “Pierce made it clear that I don't have a purpose.”
But if that was the case, why were you still alive?
The doctor's chuckle made your blood run cold. “That's what he wants you to think. You see, the more they cut you down and make you question your worth, the easier it becomes for you to comply. Because by that point you’re so desperate for survival you'll do what is asked of you,” he explained, pushing his glasses up. “Yet you still only comply to an extent. It’s rather fascinating.”
He stared at you like you were a bug under a magnifying glass. And wasn’t that what you were to him? An experiment or something for him to study? “I haven't complied. I won't.”
“Oh, but you have,” Brock chimed in. You almost forgot he was still in the room. “Those missions you completed. The lives you took.”
Bile rose in your throat as images of violence and blood flashed in your mind. They would haunt you for the rest of your days. “No, I didn't want to hurt anyone.”
“Of course, you didn't. It’s as I said: desperation. You did what you had to do to survive,” the false sympathy from Doc grated on your nerves. “Don't let the weight of those souls wear you down. They were meaningless. But you? Oh, you are meant for more.”
He attempted to touch you again, but his hand moved toward your stomach this time instead of your shoulder. “I said don't touch me!” you snapped, scrambling backward to put distance between the two of you. As much as you wanted to hurt him, Brock was still there and could do a lot of damage.
The doctor pressed his lips together before he smirked. “Pierce and Rumlow are right. You have a hold on him. Even with his programming and orders, it all comes back to you,” he said, your body going rigid. Where was he going with this? “And it’s you that we want to carry his child.”
Your stomach churned again, but you weren’t sure if it was more at the thought that he wanted to force a child on you or that he’d try and force your soldier to impregnate you. “Care to repeat that?”
“You’re going to carry his child. You’re going to give birth to the perfect soldier. And you’ll keep doing so,” he said slowly like you were a petulant child, standing tall and proud as your mouth fell open in horror. “You’re the perfect incubator.”
Your stomach sank as you looked between him and Brock, wishing it was a sick joke. “No, I won't.”
“You think you have a choice?” The doctor questioned nonchalantly, like he was asking what you wanted for dinner. “And do you think the Asset needs to remember exactly what you mean to him to fuck you? I guess we'll see if he does. Science versus instinct.”
The room became eerily silent as the doctor gave you his first genuine smile since he walked in. You struggled to get your bearings and process the words. That was why you were still alive. They were going to make you an incubator. Force your soldier to breed you. They would take another choice away from him. And raise your children in captivity.
In Hell on earth.
“Well, that shut the bitch up,” Brock chuckled.
Before you could think, you launched yourself from the bed. The doctor’s eyes widened as you tackled him to the ground, unable to brace himself as you landed the first blow to his face. You straddled his waist, the second hit knocking his glasses away as fury rushed through your veins like a wildfire. He didn’t try to fight you off.
You could’ve cried. Screamed. Anything to keep him from making his twisted plan a reality.
The sound of a gun cocking stopped you from hitting Doc a third time.
“I won’t kill you,” Brock said, your fist frozen in the air as you looked toward him. Your chest heaved as you stared down the barrel of the gun. “But I’ll make it hurt if you don’t get up.”
“Go ahead,” you said through clenched teeth.
The doctor coughed, but held up a hand. “No shooting,” he croaked as you looked at him out of the corner of your eye. “No harming her.”
Brock’s eyes nearly rolled into the back of his head. “She can still lie down and take a cock if-”
None of you could have foreseen the metal hand punching through the wall. Before you could blink, the hand closed around Brock’s shoulder and pulled him through, his cry of pain silenced almost immediately by the sound of a gunshot. The doctor beneath you was long forgotten as you scrambled to your feet just in time to see your soldier step into the room through the hole, his face obscured by his typical mask and goggles.
But you felt his gaze on you as he stood like a dark angel ready to avenge you.
Hope launched into your chest like a shooting star as you smiled. “Soldat,” you whispered.
He came for you. Found you. But the star that filled your heart quickly faded when he didn’t move toward you or say “Sparrow”.
The dread grew stronger when he holstered his gun and took out his signature knife.
Was this the beginning of the end?
The doctor smiled as he wiped the blood from his lap and slowly stood up. “You really think he’s here to save you? Oh, no. He just doesn’t want any competition near his breeding partner,” he taunted as your eyes stung. “Back from your assignment early, Soldat? Good. Now you can complete your mission.”
The Winter Soldier tilted his head before he took a step forward.
You remained rooted to the spot, casting your fear that he’d force himself on you aside. “Bucky,” you said, using the name you heard. His real name. A tear rolled down your cheek when he flinched and tightened his fingers around the handle. “I’m not going to fight you. Or hurt you. Do you know why?”
Another step forward, your heart pounded as you stood as still as a statue. “Why?” He asked, the word clear to you through his mask.
The tears flowed freely as he stopped in front of you and slipped his goggles off, your heart breaking when he dispassionately looked at you. “Because I’m your Sparrow. Remember? My fire burns for you and you only,” you told him and pointed to your chest. You needed him to remember. “We swore we’d be free together. Somehow.”
“Don’t listen to her. Breed her and be done with it,” the doctor ordered.
The soldier’s brows furrowed before his metal hand came up around your neck, not squeezing or bringing you any harm.
But it felt like a warning.
“You won’t hurt me,” you breathed out, placing your hand on his arm as you kept your panic at bay. “They won’t break me. And I won’t leave you,” you promised, echoing his words when he took you the first time. “I’m yours.”
No matter what they forced him to do to you, he would never be to blame.
The doctor had the gall to smack the flesh arm when he made no move to shove you down on the bed or remove your clothes. “Finish your mission. Now.”
“It’s okay,” you mouthed.
Somehow, it would be okay.
“My mission…” the soldier began mechanically, not taking his eyes off you as he plunged the knife into the doctor’s jugular. You weren’t sure you could breathe. “Is to keep my Sparrow safe.”
An intake of air caught your sob as the metal hand fell away, the doctor collapsing as he tried in vain to stop the blood from leaving his body. It was useless. And a kinder death than he deserved.
“Hail,” he gurgled, his fingers stained red. “Hydra.”
“Just shut up and die,” you snapped as your soldier ripped his mask off. “Soldat,” you said, softer, almost crying all over again.
“Sparrow,” he whispered.
There was nothing gentle or sweet in the way pressed his lips to yours, but it was warm and safe as he pulled you against you. Your arms slipped around him as you returned the kiss, your cheeks still wet from crying. For a second there, you thought you’d lost him. For once, fate decided not to be cruel to you.
It brought you back together.
“I’m sorry I couldn't get to you sooner,” he said when he allowed you a moment to breathe, quickly scanning as much of you as he could. “Did they hurt you?”
“No, I’m okay. I just thought…” you trailed off with a shake of your head. “You came back to me.”
But how?
“I’ll always find you, Sparrow,” he said, touching your cheek as your heart swelled. “Steve helped me remember a lot of things. Including you.”
“The man on the bridge? You saw him again?” You asked before an alarm sounded, the blaring force echoing in the room.
“Yes. And his friend is sending reinforcements, so we need to go,” he said over the noise, nudging the doctor’s body with the toe of his boot before he stepped on his glasses.
“Where are we going?” You asked.
Where could you go since you no longer had a home? You had so many questions, but understood that you’d have to wait for answers. Getting out of there in one piece was your priority.
“Somewhere safe,” he answered, fear flickering in his eyes for a moment. “Do you trust me?”
“With my life,” you promised without hesitation. And anything else you had to offer him.
The next kiss was one of gentleness, relief, and thanks. “One thing before we leave.”
“What’s that?” You asked as he took your hand.
Love and determination filled his eyes as he glanced back at you and put a gun in your other hand. “We burn it down.”
You could hardly contain the fire inside you as you smiled. “Together.”
You didn’t know what the reinforcements would do or what would await you once you got out. It didn’t matter. Your soldier found his way back to you and you would follow wherever he went. The two of you would finally leave Hydra behind.
In a pile of rubble and ash.
But you’d find out soon enough that the man on the bridge wouldn't let your soldier go either.
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I'll try not to let so much time pass before the next update. Love and thanks for reading! ❤️
Masterlist ⚓ Bucky Barnes Masterlist ⚓ Ko-Fi
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preciousbarnes · 1 year
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Languages of Love
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Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader
Summary: Bucky and you are complete opposites in day to day life. You’re a local florist, surrounded by plants and soft colors. Bucky is grumpy and rough around the edges. At nights together, his softer side shows, whispering sweet nothings to you that you love but never understand.
Word count: 1.7k
Tags: smut, first time, soft sex, fluff, bit of a language barrier, grumpy!bucky x literal sunshine, florist!reader.
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You first really noticed it the first night you slept in the same bed together. It was innocent, you and Bucky were taking your time in the relationship, but you asked him to stay the night at your apartment above your little florist shop since it was storming so horribly outside after your dinner date with him.
You both got ready for bed, Bucky stripping down to just his boxers and you changing into a pair of sleep shorts and a tank top. You both climbed into bed, you shyly staying to your side of the bed until you felt Bucky’s strong arms wrap around your waist, pulling you into his chest. You let out a little squeak in surprise, causing Bucky to give a resulting deep chuckle. You laid in his arms, nuzzling yourself close to him as you entangled your legs with his, enjoying the contrast of his furnace like body heat, and the coolness of his metal arm. You laid there silently for the longest time, trading gentle and soothing pets.
That’s when Bucky softly started talking to you in a language you didn’t understand.
“Ya ne znayu, chem ya zasluzhil eto, no ya tak blagodaren” He mutters to you in Russian, gently running his fingers through your hair. I don’t know what I did to deserve this, but I’m so grateful.
You look at his face, taking in the soft and heartfelt expression. You had no clue what he had just said, but judging by his face you were certain it was something sweet. You gently pecked his lips, making his little smile grow. You both fell asleep in each other arms that night, feeling like your hearts were so full of affection and love.
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The second time it happened was in a more heated moment. It was your first time. Your first time ever, and his first time with you. You were both laying in the middle of your bed under the soft sheets, lights dimmed in the room with soft jazz playing in the background. You were naked, and Bucky remained in his boxers, his cock straining against the fabric, forgotten. He had taken out all the stops, wanting to make your first time so special, feeling so honored to be your first. He had gently worked you open with his fingers and mouth, whispering sweet nothings in English between your legs.
“You’re doing so good doll, opening up for me so prettily.”
“Look at you, darling. So fucking gorgeous.”
“Can't wait to be inside of you, sweetheart. Going to make you feel so, so good baby,”
After plenty of foreplay, he raised up, leaving you soaked and a pleading mess for him.
“Please, Bucky. Please, I want you, please.” You gently begged, barely recognizing your own voice, already so wrecked.
“Are you sure, moya lyubov'?” He asks you, wanting to be certain that this is something you want. My love.
You nod your head, hand coming up to gently caress his jaw, feeling the stubble underneath your fingertips, a stark and rough contrast to the soft expression on his face, one full of love and utter adoration.
He stripped off his boxers, tossing them off the side of the bed. You let your eyes trail down from his face, down his chest and chiseled abs, to his dick. It was flushed, bobbing a bit from a twitch. The length and girth had your mouth watering, just imagining how much better than just fingers that would feel, how full and absolutely stuffed it would make you feel. His head glistened in the soft light, wet from precum that had leaked out, showing you just how thoroughly he enjoyed the foreplay as well.
You reached down, grasping him in your hand, making him suck in a breath at the touch. You gently and slowly pumped your fist, using your thumb to gather the precum beaded at the head and move it down his shaft. As you pleasured him, you looked up to see his face overcome with pleasure, soft groans leaving his lips. Fire stirred in your gut with the realization that you were making him feel that way. Something possessive swirled in you as well, not wanting anyone to ever see this side of him again, wanting the sight to be yours and yours alone.
After a few moments, you were paused by his hand coming down to grasp your wrist.
“Sweetheart, I’m not going to last if you keep touching me like this,” He says roughly, his voice taking on a gravelly tone, overtaken with the pleasure you were bringing him.
You smile, proud of yourself which makes him smirk and chuckle. He removes his hand from your wrist, taking himself in his hand to line himself up. He slowly pushes in, filling you to the brim. Your back arches off the bed, a moan being ripped from your throat. Once he's in you to the hilt, his head drops to your shoulder, a groan leaving his lips. He’s overwhelmed with pleasure, never knowing it was possible for it to feel this good. You’re so warm, so tight, your velvety walls gripping him just right.
He begins thrusting, slow and sensual but strong thrusts hitting just the right spot. Your nails rake down his back, legs coming up to wrap around his hips, trying to pull him impossibly closer to you.
That’s when you hear it. That soft, deep voice muttering words to you that you don’t understand, slipping into what you now know is Russian.
“Ty chuvstvuyesh' sebya tak khorosho, detka.” You feel so good, baby.
“Ty kak budto sozdana dlya menya.” It’s like you were made for me.
“Zakhvatyvayushchiy,” Breathtaking.
“U tebya yest' ves' ya, telo i dusha.” You have all of me, body and soul.
He keeps muttering soft phrases and words against your skin that night, cherishing you in a way you never knew someone could. It's the contrast between the sharp thrusts and gentle hands and words that send you over the edge in the end, vision going white as you pull him over the ledge with you into absolute bliss.
After you both are sated and content, laying in each other's arms, he mutters one more phrase as he gently kisses the place where your jaw meets your throat.
“Ya tebya lyublyu” he says worshipfully, almost like a prayer leaving his lips.
You normally just smile at the sweet words you don’t understand, giving his kisses or hugs in response. This phrase though, it felt important to know, so you ask.
He looks at you like you hold the answer to all the universes questions, bringing his hand up to run his thumb against your cheekbone so softly you barely feel it.
“I love you,” he tells you, easily but so full of conviction.
A smile breaks across your face, as you return those three little words to him.
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The next time you hear the language slip from his lips was when a recruit got a little to close, not knowing you were there at the training compound to see your boyfriend.
“Ne trogay yeye” He spat out, roughly grabbing the hand the recruit had reached out in goals of touching your arm. Don’t touch her. He was shooting daggers with his eyes at the recruit, who was now backing away, stuttering out an apology before quickly walking away.
The look on his face was reminiscent of a cartoon grumpy bear, making you giggle gently which led him to look over to you, a confused look on his face with the remnants of a scowl still there.
You reached up on your tip toes to kiss him gently on the lips, replacing the scowl with a dopey smile. In the background you could hear Steve’s chuckle at the lovestruck look on his best friends face as you grabbed his hand, leading him out to your car as you told him about the new shipment of flowers you just got in that you wanted to show him.
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You found yourself in your floral shop with Natasha, her helping you with organizing order forms as you got out supplies to make another arrangement.
“Hey Nat, you’re fluent in Russian, right?” You ask the agent, earning a smile from her and a soft “Da.” Yes.
“You’ve been around when Bucky says stuff to me, right?”
She nods and smiles again, seeing where this is going.
“You want to know what he says?” She asks, filing away the orders and turning her full attention to you.
“Yeah, I always want to ask, but he has this look on his face. This soft expression. Like how people look at baby kittens. It makes me feel so cherished. I don’t ever want to ruin the moment,” You explain, hoping she understands.
She laughs at your comparison to Bucky’s face to how people look at kittens.
“Yknow, if I heard anyone else say Bucky looks at something how people look at baby anything, at one time I would’ve thought they had lost their mind. But yeah, that’s how he looks at you sometimes. He worships you, honey. Most of the time, when I’ve been around and he’s spoken to you in the language, he’s telling you that you're his whole world, that he feels so lucky to have found you, that he feels blessed, that you’re his angel, that he is yours completely, just really soft shit. He loves you.” She tells you, making your heart swell.
“Well,” you begin, “can you help me with something for him?” you ask.
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Later that night you both found yourselves curled up together on the couch of your now shared apartment above your floral shop, Bucky playing with your hair as your hand gently strokes up and down one of the arms wrapped around you as you listen to his heartbeat with your head rested on his chest.
That’s when you say it.
“Ya beskonechno lyublyu tebya” you tell him, hoping you got the pronunciation right. Based on the shocked look on his face, followed by a wide smile stretching across his face, you’re assuming you did well enough for him to have understood. I love you to the moon and back.
“I love you too doll, to all the planets and beyond and back” He tells you, pulling you in for a soft kiss.
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Note
would you ever write something filthy for winter soldier? no pressure btw!
Experiments
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Pairing || Winter Soldier x Female!Reader
Summary || HYDRA conducts sexual experiments on specimen The Winter Soldier.
Word Count || 2901
Contents & Warnings || Smut, Angst, Dark Themes — NSFW, 18+ Only, Minors DNI, non-con, explicit content/language, sub!soldat, implied torture/murder/blood, restraints, unprotected vaginal sex, size kink, oral (male receiving), handjob, multiple orgasms, forced orgasm, overstimulation, exhibition, creampie, bodily fluids.
Authors Note || The answer is yes sweet nonnie :D And I really love how this turned out. This is my first time writing for WS so please be kind :) Remember, read the warnings! I’m not responsible for your content consumption. Don’t like it, don’t read. And definitely don’t slap a label on just to be petty. There are no [ ] in the text below btw. Also apologies for no readmore cut. It’s currently bugged out and fucks up the text below.
Disclaimer || English is not my first language so I apologise for any mistakes or misunderstandings!
Masterlist
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You had no idea how long you had been in this stuffy and dim-lit room. Minutes? Hours? Days? It felt like an eternity but also like no time had passed at all. It was easy to lose track of it when you had no inclination whether it was day or night out. The room and its surroundings were bleak and dull, giving nothing away about your location.
How did you end up in this situation? Naked with strangers watching—discussing, researching, contemplating. And with a stranger's cock in your grasp? Making him come again, again, and again—an endless cycle of climax.
It all seemed like a blur now. A past from another time. A dream? A nightmare?
They promised good pay. Money that was beyond imaginable, but you had to take this with you to the grave. This experiment that you yourself had signed up for could never reach the light of day.
Tell anyone, and they will torture and mutilate you beyond recognition. Killing and dumping your body in a ditch.
Although the men were vicious beyond anything, they told you countless times that under any circumstances, you could leave. You were not here out of force. They would keep you safe. You had signed up for this, and whenever you wanted to terminate the deal you had sealed, you were allowed. But you could never, ever tell another living soul about what you had seen or experienced.
It felt like a week, but in reality, it had only been a day or so since these men had come and picked you up from your home—blindfolding and plugging your ears. Due to their safety and yours, you could not know where you were being taken.
After hours of traveling by car, train, and plane—taking all transportation possible—you had arrived. To where you did not know. A military bunker of some sort, possibly. Somewhere cold and emotionless. An unknown country.
Your blindfold and plugs were removed, and you sat in a dark room. A hanging bulb from the ceiling cascaded a weak source of light throughout the space. The chair and table were metal and cold.
Opposite you sat a man dressed in uniform. Narrowing your eyes and inspecting him further, you saw it was the same man you had come in contact with when you had signed up for this mysterious experiment.
“Papers for you to sign,” he uttered in a thick Russian accent. His face and tone were stoic.
He explained the contract in detail. And there was a particular phrase that stood out to you. That made no sense. The Asset. It was mentioned numerous times.
You knew what you had come here for. A sexual experiment of some sort. But nowhere in the contract did it say who you were conducting it with. There was no name. No details about any appearance or anything. Only that you would perform with someone or something named The Asset.
“He has no name.” The man spoke. “He is not a person. Do not try to humanize him. He is a tool. A weapon. Nothing more. But if you have to call him something, you may refer to him as Soldat. And do not worry. He cannot hurt you.”
“Why am I doing this? W-what’s the purpose?” You muttered while avoiding his emotionless gaze.
“We have to experiment and see if he is breakable. If someone can ever bend his will and programming with sexual torture.”
Your train of thoughts and flashbacks were cut short by the sound of fingers tapping on glass behind you and the roar of metal chains rattling in front of you.
“Please continue, miss,” the same thick Russian accent bellowed from behind.
“O-oh,” you exhaled as you came back to your senses. The coldness of the small room pierced your naked skin. The sounds of inaudible chatter in a foreign language and beeping of instruments flowed through your ears. And your eyes adjusted to what was in front of you.
Soldat.
He held all your attention now as you peered at him through your thick lashes. The surroundings were not relevant anymore. The people watching and observing were not relevant anymore—only him.
The beefy and nude man was held in chains. His arms restrained so that he couldn’t touch you. Couldn’t hurt you, for that matter.
His head hung low, peering down at you. His long hair cascaded down his face and stuck to his sweaty forehead, but you could still see some of his features. He held an intense expression. It was hard to decipher. His jaw clenched tightly, and his dark eyes were wild. Pain? Pleasure? Did he actually enjoy the sexual torture? It was hard to tell. He never spoke. Deep groans and grunts that rumbled in his throat were the only sounds to ever come out of him. The sounds gave you an impression that he may actually enjoy this vicious ordeal.
Although powerless, he looked powerful and rough from where you were positioned on your knees. Fuck, he was huge. All of him. God, he was hot. The sight in front of you was like a lewd porno.
You and he were covered in cum, sweat, and spit—a concoction of erotic slickness. Hot and disgusting at the same time. It made the acts you performed on him that much effortless.
You felt the heaviness of his cock in your grasp again as you returned to yourself. And once you tugged on it tighter, he roared loudly and clenched his body tight and hard. The muscles underneath his skin became deliciously defined. And the plates on his bionic arm whirled every time he flexed.
His red and angry cock twitched in pain and pleasure. Raw due to your repeated acts on him—handjob, blowjob, and having him nestled deep inside your pussy. Making him come again and again.
The thick and protruding veins along his shaft pulsed underneath your palms as you jerked him faster. Tighter. Sloppier.
“Fuck,” you mumbled as you took in the sight of his impressive cock, making your mouth water at the anticipation of having him on your tongue again.
With a needy moan, you took him in your mouth. Suckling his head as both your hands sloppily worked the rest of him. Swirling your tongue on his sensitive tip as your lips wrapped beautifully around him.
Soldat groaned as you sucked him to perfection—cum and spit dribbling out of your mouth and making a beautiful mess all over yourself and him.
His hands may be bound, but the rest of his body was boundless, and he bucked his hips into your mouth. The tip of his cock tickled the back of your throat. You coughed and struggled, and he rumbled deeply in response. Seeming satisfied with you choking.
When you couldn’t handle the abuse to your throat anymore, you release his cock with a pop. You spat the excess saliva onto his length and let the slickness coat the entirety of him.
As both your hands worked his entire cock again—base to tip, you took his heavy sack into your mouth—licking and sucking. Enjoying the weight of his balls on your tongue—moaning against him.
You peered up at him again with hooded eyes. He seemed to enjoy the dirty sight—your mouth and hands full of his cock and balls. A messy perfection kneeling before him.
A smirk tugged on his lips before he hissed sharply through his teeth as you pulled his sack harshly and then let it drop from your mouth.
He was close again. Nearing his fifth? Or was it maybe the sixth orgasm since you started? You had lost count.
The Russian officer was right. Soldat was no ordinary man. No one would have been able to withstand so many orgasms in such a short time. It was extraordinary to witness. Could he really keep climaxing till the end of times?
Soldat’s chest heaved as the torturous pleasure built. His thick thighs trembled, and his cock twitched, anticipating another earth-shattering and messy release.
He bellowed a cry through his gritted teeth as he came hard once again. The chains rattled as he tugged on them. He bucked his stuttering hips into your grasp as he spurted ropes and ropes of thick white cum from his red tip and made a mess all over himself and you. The sounds of pleasure and torture—grunts, groans, roars, and subtle whines, surfaced despite his clenched jaw.
You never stopped stroking him. Never stopped milking his poor and sensitive cock for all its seed. God, there was so much. You were in awe of him—eyes wide and mouth ajar. It was like a drug to you. Seeing the man above you come so intensely undone.
In the beginning, you had felt bad due to how wrong the situation actually was. But the more he came, the more you craved it. You needed it just as much as breathing.
“Good boy,” you mumbled as you gave a final tight tug on his cock. He hissed at the sensitivity and then exhaled as you released his twitching and aching cock from your hold.
For the first time, he looked finished. Exhausted as he dropped his head backward. His throat bobbed as he swallowed thickly and tried to catch his breath. Had he reached his breaking point?
You gave him a break. He deserved that much by enduring this pleasurable torture. But the men in charge were impatient.
“Please don’t stop, miss. He is not allowed to rest.” The same accent uttered behind the glass.
Soldat’s eyes were on you now. Watching intensely as you got to your feet. You hissed as you stood upright. The uncomfortable and solid concrete floor bruised your knees and made your thighs stiff.
His abused cock twitched once you stood before him in all your nude form. His chains rattled again as he tried to reach forward to touch you. The plates on his bionic arm whirled. Did he want to hurt you? Punish you for torturing him? Or was there something else he wanted?
He stared intensely at you with his jaw clenched and eyes wild like an animal—examining your body like a predator would a prey. He groaned and licked his lips, hungry for more of what you had to offer. How much till he could bear no more?
When he saw you become nervous under his gaze, he bit his tongue and relaxed back into his seat.
“Please continue, miss,” the Russian man pressed you on. Becoming impatient with the waiting.
You trembled as you sat on top of Soldat—sore yourself from all the previous activities you had performed on him—hours of torturous pleasure. He let out a satisfied groan as you found your place on his lap.
You were so unbelievably close now. Your sweaty bodies pressed together, front to front. It was so hot, so erotic feeling his warm skin against yours. Feeling his delicious and defined muscles underneath your palms as you ran them down his broad torso.
His cock nestled against your dripping pussy. Yours and his juices mixed as you grinded on him, making him rock hard again.
With a breathless moan, you took his cock in your grasp again, loving the feel of him in your hand. Soldat sucked in a breath through his teeth as you pumped his bruised and slick length before you lined up his bulbous head with your entrance.
For the first time since you sat on him, you found his dark gaze as you lowered yourself onto his thick girth, thighs trembling. You winched at the pleasurable sting as he stretched out your velvet walls, inch by inch. It was so much to take in.
A deep groan sounded from his throat at the friction on his sensitive cock. His head fell back, eyes closed, and his teeth drew blood as he bit his bottom lip. His body clenched again at the sensual torture.
“Fuck, you’re huge,” you whined as his cock nestled balls deep inside your pussy.
His dark eyes found yours again. And although they were scary and wild, you couldn’t break from his intense stare. An animalistic groan rumbled in his chest, and his hands clenched in tight fists. His menacing aura compelled you to start riding him.
With your hands clasped at the back of his neck, steadying yourself, you started bouncing on his thick length. Slow, to begin with. Letting the ridges and veins of his cock caress delicately against your walls. Your jaw slacked as you enjoyed the teasing penetration.
But Soldat was impatient. He tried to push his body further into yours despite the constriction of his chains as he bellowed a deep roar. His hips bucked upwards brutally, forcing the entirety of him in you. You cried as his swollen head hit deep inside.
As he continued to snap his hips up into your aching pussy in quick motions, you met his movements with your own forceful ones. The sound of wet skin clapping, deep moans, groans, and soft whimpers drowned out the chatter and beeping of instruments behind.
Your sweaty bodies moved and danced effortlessly together—a seductive second act to the lewd porno.
Without thinking, you pressed your lips to his hard. Soldat took advantage of having his touch on you for the first time. He groaned as he moved his lips hurriedly against yours. Parting them to explore your mouth further.
The kiss was messy and needy—tongue and spit mixed together. Breathless moans and whimpers shared between you as your lips moved passionately—savouring the intoxicating taste.
As you pulled away, desperately needing a breath due to the exertion of your movements, he captured your bottom lip between his teeth, tugging on it as you pulled apart. He managed to nip your lip at the last second, puncturing through the skin and creating a little bleeding cut. He groaned while you moaned at the violent action. His animalistic and cruel nature was beyond hot.
It was hard to tell how long you had been fucking for—riding his cock brutally. It was all so intoxicating—the sounds, the touches, the tastes, the delicious penetration. It clouded all your senses. It made you aware of nothing but him—his massive body and cock.
You were approaching your first orgasm since you started this erotic experiment with The Asset. And with the way your body trembled and the firm tightness in your stomach begged to snap, you knew your release would wreck you—dissolving you into a messy state of whimpers and possibly a blackout.
You braced yourself by wrapping your arms around his neck—clinging desperately to him. Puncturing your nails into the skin of his back—leaving marks.
Soldat’s body tensed, anticipating another rocking release as he ground his teeth and roared like a caged animal. The chains rattled as he pulled on his restraints. His huge arms flexed, and his delicious muscles contorted beautifully, making him look even bigger.
You could see a hint of pain and discomfort in his features at having his cock tormented and overstimulated to the extreme. But another part of him, the darkest flicker in his eyes, couldn’t get enough of the torturous pleasure.
You leaned your forehead against his, which had his tenseness ease up to a degree. Yours and his parted lips brushed as you became so engrossed with the anticipation of your shared release.
“Fuck,” you whimpered as you grounded yourself deeper onto his pulsing cock that was nearing its release. And with a last few sharp thrusts of his hips into your quivering pussy, hitting your sweet spot repeatedly, you and he came hard—an explosion of noises and numbing pleasure rocked your bodies.
His cock twitched violently as he spurted his thick and warm cum into your awaiting womb, covering your fluttering walls with his seed. Making you feel full and satisfied. Yours and his hips stuttered and lost their rhythm as you tried to move against each other despite the soul-crushing and body-crippling sensation.
Your sounds of passion were muffled against his sweaty skin as you nuzzled your face into the crock of his neck. His ones roared so loudly in your ear—moans, groans, growls, making your whole body vibrate and convulse.
The pleasure seemed to last for an eternity as you savoured each erotic and sensual sensation with Soldat.
A wave of darkness shadowed over you as it became too much after a while. The pleasure too intense for your weak body to handle. Your movements started easing into a delicate dance as you used the last bit of strength to cling onto Soldat’s colossal frame.
Yours and his chest heaved in perfect rhythm as you stilled completely on him. His cock buried deep inside you still.
His warm body against yours was a comfort from the raging ache your own pulsed. His hot breath brushing your skin a soothing sensation.
How could a man that was claimed to be inhuman, dangerous, a weapon, feel so comfortable? Feel so right?
You hummed softly as you nuzzled further into him. Tired and drained from the hours of exertion that accumulated into a fiery ending.
The demands of the men in charge for you to continue were nothing but a muffled sound.
You felt yourself slip. Slip into darkness, tired and satiated, as the last thing your consciousness remembered was the soft lulling of the menacing man you were clinging onto.
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Thank you for reading 🖤 Feedback through a comment is highly appreciated! Or let me know through an anonymous ask if that feels more comfortable. As well as a reblog to share my work with other people!
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sebstan2020 · 4 months
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Sebastian Stan Fanfiction Masterlist
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Bucky Barnes
Red Ties - Bucky Barnes
The King - Bucky Barnes
The Rise of Hydra - Bucky Barnes
The Captains Daughter - Bucky Barnes
Trespassing - Bucky Barnes
The Presidents Daughter - Bucky Barnes
A Slave for You - Bucky Barnes
She Works for the Devil - Bucky Barnes
At His Service - Bucky Barnes
Territory - Bucky Barnes
New World Order - Bucky Barnes, Steve Rogers, Tony Stark
Companion - Bucky Barnes, Steve Rogers
Repaying the Debt - Bucky Barnes
Bucky Barnes One shots
Steve Kemp
Not Leaving - Steve Kemp
Max Burnett
The Sharpest Lies - Max Burnett
Max Burnett One shots
Nick Fowler
Nick Fowler One shots
Sebastian Stan
Sebastian Stan One shots
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eufezco · 16 days
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I CAN DO IT WITH A BROKEN HEART
bucky!winter soldier x fem!reader (kinda angst ig?) no use of y/n
based on the captain america: the winter soldier post credits scene because i loooooove it
omg this is my first time writing for something marvel related i hope you enjoy it, it's been so long since the last time i wrote anything so i'm sorry if it's kinda shitty 😭
He was looking at you and you were looking back at him.
Steve had refused to fight against him. He had dropped his shield from the ship and had surrendered to his old friend. You wished you could have done that so you would never have felt Bucky's hands around your throat trying to choke you to death nor his body over yours as his fists connected with your face once again.
But one of you had to fight him so that you two could get out of it alive, and if Steve didn't, you would.
Bucky's punches to Steve's face made you squirm in place as you tried to escape the beam that had fallen on you. If you didn't get out you feared that the beam would crush you or even worse, that Bucky would kill him. Steve was his mission after all and he was programmed to finish it.
You jumped on him when you managed to escape and freed Steve from the blows of his metal arm. Stay alive please you mumbled to your friend as he lay badly wounded, with one eye swollen shut and blood coming out of his nose. The last time you had seen him like that he was a small blond boy who had gotten into trouble in an alley with someone twice his size and you and Bucky had to come to his rescue. Now the trouble you had to save him from was Bucky himself and you were on your own.
Your whole body ached from fighting him and since beating him didn't work, you decided to try to make him see reason in another way. You called his name while you were trying to catch your breath, still with the sensation of his fingers closing around your throat. He looked at you full of rage while he tried to recompose from the hit that he had received from you. The name Bucky echoed in his head every time you repeated it, hurt him more than any kick or punch you gave him. The familiarity with that word made him feel sick in his stomach and more eager to fight you for making him feel that way.
You know me.
No, I don't!
Bucky, you've known me your whole life.
Shut up!
Your name is James Buchanan Barnes. We were friends.
He held a defensive pose while his eyes glanced nervously all over the place and his chest rose and fell slowly as he tried to catch his breath. It was so familiar. Not only the name you kept repeating but also the way it sounded when you said it.
He was looking at you and you were looking back at him.
There was enough distance between the two of you so that you did not feel threatened by each other's presence. The Captain America Exhibit in Washington also had enough civilians to start another fight like the one on the ship.
He broke eye contact with you to look at the screen. He had seen your face somewhere on that big panel dedicated to who he was once. And there you were. When the text ended there was a sequence of pictures. He did not know who those men in the pictures were but he could see himself smiling with them.
But there you were. In the middle picture.
He was wearing his sergeant's uniform and you were wearing a dress. You could still remember his reaction when he saw you in that dress, how his eyes sparkled looking at you, how his lips curved into a smile every time you grabbed his hand and dragged him around the Stark Expo. Steve with his new camera captured the perfect moment. Bucky held you around the waist. Bucky was slightly leaning over you. Your faces were just inches apart but in the picture you both were laughing, you still heard the sound of his laughter every time you looked at the picture, as if it had not been almost seventy years since you last saw him. Your faces were just inches apart but there was no kiss.
And now there would never be a kiss.
How innocent you both looked in that picture. Neither of you knew how all your plans were going to be twisted, how only one of you two would be the one to remember that night. If someone had told you that night that Bucky was going to disappear from your life, you would have laughed in their face. If you had known you would have kissed him. You would have kissed Bucky until you were breathless, until you were tired of kissing each other if that was possible. But now you would never know because you both insisted on remaining friends until the end of the war not knowing that out of that war would come a much worse one.
The very hands you had trusted to hold you had tried to choke you to death. The same eyes that had gazed at you with such devotion had looked at you loaded with the strongest wrath in the world. The man you had loved the most did not recognize you and by the way he was looking at that panel with all his memories, he did not recognize himself either.
Bucky stared at the picture for a few seconds and then looked back at you. You were the same girl, only now with some bruises on your face, the marks of his fingers on your neck, and definitely not with the same smile as the girl in the picture. What had he done to you? What would the boy in that photo think about the person he had become?
You stood in place far from him. Since you had seen him you had not taken a single step forward. Neither the cap nor the long hair nor the jacket covering his metal arm could hide him from you. Not anymore. You went to the Captain America memorial looking for the comfort that the panel dedicated to Bucky brought you, he went there looking for answers. And you found each other.
Your Bucky and you his answers.
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littlebabyyd0ll · 7 months
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KINKTOBER DAY FOUR, TRICK OR TREAT
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[i changed the plot after naming this fic, so it actually has nothing to do with trick or treating xoxo]
Your daddy takes you to a halloween party!
Daddy!Bucky x Little!Reader
Warnings: DDLG themes, lovesick Bucky, slight mention of troubled pasts.
You are responsible for your own media consumption. Enjoy!
Main Masterlist ! Kinktober 2023
On days like today, you feel like the most spoiled little girl ever. Days where you wake up in fresh sheets and next to the person that loves you the very most in the world. He treats you all day, kisses you awake and gets you dressed. Bucky’s a good man, a great man. Never once has he made you feel guilty or inadequate for all that he does for you, both as a boyfriend and as a caregiver. His heart is as big as the compound that you live in, and he reminds you every day that it is for you and you only. 
Your tortured pasts brought the two of you together, brought out his need to be relied on, to have someone to take care of, and brought out your need to feel tiny and helpless, to have someone to take care of you. 
You beam at him now, and he beams right back down at you. His hands are caressing your arms, slowly pulling down the sleeves of your princess costume into place. It’s pretty and pink, a shade like ballet slippers and decorated in the smallest, most minute of sparkles. He’s dressed you happily for halloween, a dress he picked out himself. Steve’s party was already in full swing, but he couldn’t help taking the extra time to make you look party-ready. 
He’s dressed up too, as a shining knight.
His costume is far more tacky and cheap, but he looks as handsome as ever. You squeal on the inside — you wish that you could convey the way that you feel when you’re in this headspace, when you feel this little. 
“Do you remember our rules, princess?” Your daddy asks, slowly spinning you around to lace up the back of your pretty pink dress. 
“We don’t talk to people we don’t know.” You recite, playing with your fingers slowly and idly. Bucky had spent the time painting them shimmering pink, even stooped your squirming so that they turned out perfectly. “Stay close to daddy the whole time. Ask daddy if I need anything.” 
He’s pleased, you can hear it in his tone. “And? One more, baby.” 
You wrack your brain for a moment, wriggling your toes in your frilly little socks. Then, it hits you like lightning, “oh! Gotta say thank you to Steve for having us.” 
“Good job.” Bucky muses, turning you back to face him. His hands can’t help but reach for your cheeks and squish them together, your puffy lips jutting out. “My best girl, huh? You’re such a good listener, baby, m’so proud of you.” 
You’re practically glowing. “Thank you, Daddy.” 
“You ready, sweet girl? Think you’ll be okay with Daddy and his friends?” 
You nod brightly and raise out a small hand. Your finger protrudes outwards and beacons Bucky’s to meet it. He does, of course, linking your fingers with a great smile. Your hand looks so small compared to his bionic one, and it’s so warm, warmer than you’d think. He’s all human, and all heart. 
He holds your hand as you enter Steve’s home, even keeps them connected when the blonde haired man brings him in for a hug. Your hands do lose their hold on one another when Steve’s arms swallow you whole, and when he holds you tight and lifts you up the ground. Steve’s love for you extends just as much as his love for Bucky — you saved his best friend, made his life all the more better. How could he not love you? 
Steve loves you in any way that you come, and when he sees the way that you grip tightly to your boyfriend and that wide-eyed look you hold, he knows that today is the smallest form of you that comes, and he couldn't be happier. The hug that he gives you is warm and all-encompassing. “My girl!” He sings out with a laugh, swaying you in his burly arms. The raven haired man watches you both with a smile on his face. “How’ve you been, huh? You been good for your daddy?”
“Uh huh!” 
“She’s always good.” Bucky insists as he takes you out of Steve's arms and plants you back onto the floor, where you instantly curl into his side. His warmth is brilliant compared to the late-october air. “My best girl, aren’t you, baby?”
“You want juice, honey, or some pop?” Your attention is stolen by Natasha, who opens her arms for a big hug. You tae her up on the offer, looking up for permission form your daddy to go and see the selection with Nat. Bucky gives you a nod and a kiss on the forehead, watching you go with a familiar look on his face. 
One of the upmost love, and upmost adoration.
The blond haired man watches the ordeal with a smile of his own. He chuckles, shaking his head, “She’s real good for you, man.”
“I know.” Bucky hums, watching you blush as Natasha compliments your princess costume and straightens up your tiara. He can just about make out you complimenting her kitty cat outfit over the music and chatter. “Best thing that ever happened to me.”
You don’t manage to thank Steve that night. 
Bucky carries you out of Steve’s home with his arm pushed under your butt and your tired arms loose around his neck. You’d been so good all night, obeyed by all your rules. You had stayed close to Bucky and his friends, answered all questions politely and even played board games with friends of friends. Your soul lights up the room, your giggle infectious and, just the same as every day, Bucky finds himself wondering how on earth he got to be so lucky. He’s lucky as your feet dangle around his hips and your drool dampens his shoulder. The play tiara is now sloped and wonky on your head, close to falling off. You look a bit of a mess, but the prettiest mess he’s ever seen. 
Bucky lifts your sleeping form out of the car with a grunt, and sighs when he gets through the front door. He might regret it in the morning, but he lays you in bed still dressed up in your little costume, but for now, he gets to stare down at you lovingly, in your purest form, and he gets to hear your beating heart. 
And for him, that is more than he could ever ask for.
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ambling-rambling · 1 year
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Pairing: Bucky Barnes x reader
C/W: honestly not much. Angst. Drunk reader. Softest of fluff
I started out intending to write drunk sex but ya sad bish needed something soft instead so have the first time Bucky Barnes hears I love you and the way it wrecks him.
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Don't Leave Me
The two of you didn't actually fight that often, surprising as that was to some people. You supposed you couldn't blame them, what with the ex-Winter Soldier's perpetual frown and surly demeanor.
You knew better, though. He held people at arms length for a million different reasons, each as valid as the next, but the truth was, his core was all marshmallow fluff, soft and squishy.
In the six months that you'd been an official couple, you could count on one hand the number of times you'd so much as bickered. But this? This was different. A genuine fight, where you couldn't agree and neither was willing to compromise.
It was bad enough, his being gone on missions all the time, worrying about whether he'd come home at all, and what state he'd be in when he did. And now he was talking about some sabbatical back to Europe, trying to chase down memories and make some amends clear on the other side of the planet, indefinitely.
And it sure sounded like he didn't want you to come. Sure, his excuse had been that he didn't want to drag you away from your life, make you uproot everything. Part of you knew he didn't feel worthy of that kind of devotion, that he couldn't truly comprehend that he was your everything now.
But if still felt an awful lot like a rejection, and that stung.
Maybe that was why you'd gotten so drunk, just trying to ease the tightness in your chest, drown the ache in your soul with the burn of alcohol. It would have been bad enough on its own, but the fact that it was your first legitimate fight just made it that much worse.
So you'd gotten a little carried away, and Jaeger sure as shit did have a way of creeping up on you. You'd stumbled your way into the ladies' where you now sagged against a sink, though you'd forgotten to turn the water on.
"Honey, are you alright?" a voice startled you, and you spun, or tried to. You barely managed to keep yourself upright by clinging to the edge of the sink.
"Uhhhh..." Were you? Alright? What did that even mean? You weren't dying, but you felt like you were shattering into a million pieces. Surely that was just the alcohol talking, making everything extra dramatic. "No? " It came out a question, and the woman tutted softly. She was probably a little older than you, beautiful, and you found yourself half lost in the liquid brown of her eyes, hooded in deep gold eyeshadow, and the dreadlocks that framed her face.
"Can I call someone for you, honey?" she asked.
Call someone? Shit what a great idea! "Uhhh, my boyfriend," you said with a nod. "Er, well," you hedged, as the memories came flooding back in. "I think. We hadda fight." The words were slurred, and your new friend's eyes were sympathetic.
"Are you safe with him?"
Even drunk, you immediately understood the implications of what she was asking. "YES." Your response was so emphatic that she laughed a little. "We never fight like this," you said, pouting now, staring down at the toe of your tennis shoe. "Ever," you added, uncertain why you felt the need to add so much emphasis.
"Well, honey, why don't I call him for you? If he's got any brains in his head, he's probably missin' you just as much as you're missin' him."
You nodded, because Bucky definitely had brains, he was so smart, and beautiful and you just wanted to be with him always. Why did he have to make everything so fucking difficult?
Without really making a conscious decision, you unlocked your phone, open to your text conversation with Bucky. You hadn't even realized you had a slew of texts from him. It ran a course from appeasing,
I'm sorry, I just don't know what to tell you...
to irritated ,
Really? You're blowing me off?
to worried,
Okay well I deserve it. We don't have to talk but can you just answer so I know you're okay?
Y/n. Please. I'm really getting worried. I just wanna know you're alright.
You felt a little bad. You hadn't been blowing him off intentionally, you just hadn't been paying attention to your phone.
Your friend, god you really needed to ask her name, hit the dial button. Muffled through the speaker, you could nonetheless hear Bucky answer before the second ring, practically shouting your name.
"Sorry, my name's Meredith, but I've got y/n right here. She's fine, just pretty drunk. You should probably come pick her up."
There wasn't any hesitation in his promise to be there in a few minutes.
Meredith handed your phone back to you, and you tucked it away in your pocket, feeling a little guilty. You tried to stand up straight, annoyed with the way the world tilted and swayed under your feet.
"Easy there, honey. Let's go get you some water before your fella gets here."
You nod, because that seemed like a good idea. You clung to Meredith's arm as the two of you wound through the bar and the bartender handed you a glass of water. You sipped it carefully, uncertain if even that would settle. You had definitely never been this drunk before, and now that it was setting in you felt a little childish and stupid.
You heard your name and half turned. The sight of Bucky there, beautiful as ever in that leather jacket and his gloves, made you want to weep, and you sniffled.
"I was worried about you, doll," Bucky said gently, brushing one leather-clad thumb along your cheek bone.
You wanted to be mad at him, but the genuine concern in those blue eyes and the way he was hanging back, not pushing you, just made you want to fall into him.
"I'm sorry," you mumbled, not looking at him. "I wasn't tryna make y'worry." The words came out slurred and you felt petulant and nauseous and why was everything such a mess?
"You good now?" Meredith asked, drawing your gaze. You nodded. "Yeah, I'm okay," you said.
"Thank you," Bucky said softly, extending a hand to Meredith. "Genuinely. I'm glad she found you and not..." he trailed off with a helpless shrug, and it wasn't a leap to know he'd been thinking about all the creeps out there who'd love to take advantage of a drunk and vulnerable woman.
"Nothin' to thank me for. Us girls gotta stick together," Meredith said with a grin. She gave your hand a little squeeze, and then disappeared into the crowd.
Bucky sighed, turning to look at you again, ducking his head to try and catch your eye. "C'mon doll, you still so mad you can't even look at me?" he asked, with a little note of frustration creeping into his tone.
You shook your head. "Not that. I just feel...Dumb." Suddenly you were crying and you couldn't even really articulate why. Bucky looked panicked, jerking the glove off his right hand to cradle your face, applying pressure to encourage you to look up without forcing you.
"What? Why? You're not dumb, y/n..." Bucky looked perplexed, worried still as you sniffled again, scrubbing at your leaking eyes.
"You still w-want me right?" The words came out slurred and choked, and you were suddenly clinging to him, clutching at his biceps. The world was unsteady under you and you just wanted to be in bed, wrapped up with him, safe and wanted.
Bucky looked genuinely shocked. "What...y/n, of course I do. You're all I want. Why would you think otherwise?"
He was so confused you almost laughed. It was so obvious to you.
"But you d-don't want me to come to Europe with you," you pointed out, your voice a drunken whine.
"I don't...y/n, I don't want to go without you," you could see he was struggling to articulate himself, the way words so often came as a fight, caught up in his head. "I just don't feel like I can ask you to walk away from your life..."
"You're not asking! I'm offering!" you interrupted, your voice a little too high, a little too loud, even to your own ears.
Bucky looked... Inexplicably sad. He stepped a little closer, so his body was pressed to yours, bare hand cradling your cheek. "I ain't worth it, doll. And I don't want you to be an ocean away from home and not another friend in sight when you figure that out." .
You felt like you were choking. Oh, or maybe that was just the alcohol in your stomach revolting. Bucky must have read the expression on your face, because he wrapped an arm around your waist, mostly carrying you toward the door. "C'mon, let's get outside," he said.
The cold air hit you like an Arctic front, had goosebumps prickling all over your skin and a shiver running up your spine. But it served to still the boiling mess in your stomach. You knew you were drunk, that he'd probably convince himself it was just the alcohol, but you had to try.
"Please baby," you whined, clutching at him. "I don't wanna be here without you. I just wanna be with you , always. You are worth it to me." Your voice cracked when you begged "don't leave me here."
"I'm not leaving you anywhere, doll. Let's go home," he murmured. You nodded, slumping into Bucky's arms, content to let him carry you to the car.
You didn't even remember getting home, just waking up in bed, a little panicked, launching yourself toward the bathroom, your stomach revolting against the ill treatment of the night before. Bucky was there within moments, sweeping your hair back out of your face, palm smoothing down your back.
You slumped to the floor when your stomach finally settled, cool tile heavenly against your heated skin. "I'm sorry," you mumbled.
"For what?" Bucky asked, brow furrowed in confusion.
"Getting so trashed that you had to come get me. Being so extra and now...this," your lip curled in distaste as you waved a hand at the porcelain throne.
Bucky 's lips quirked in that ghost of a smile that was his most common expression of pleasure or amusement. "That's nothin' to apologize for, doll," he said dismissively.
"Shower with me?" you asked, and Bucky nodded, starting the water before helping you to your feet. You shucked out of your clothes and ducked into the shower with a low groan of relief, only too eager to wash the night off your skin. Bucky followed you in, and his hands skimmed tenderly across your body, helping you rinse off, his nose nuzzled into the crook of your neck.
You lingered like that, for too long, really. It would have been easy, so easy, to just stay like that, pretend nothing had happened, but you couldn't.
"Bucky?" you whispered, voice rough and more than a little hesitant.
"Yeah, doll?" he asked, without lifting his head, voice muffled against your skin.
"I...I meant what I said last night. I know I was drunk, but it was still the truth. I don't... I don't wanna be here without you. I don't care where you're going, if it's anywhere even sort of long term, I wanna go. I'll go anywhere Buck, just .. please don't leave me here. Don't go without me."
He drew back, cradling your face, his expression a study in internal wars, looking both miserable and infatuated. "I just don't want you bored over there, by yourself..."
"I wouldn't be by myself," you interrupted. "I'd be with you and that's all I want."
You could practically see that self deprecating smile even before it painted his lips. "That's not all you want, doll," Bucky argued, and you felt yourself huff out an irritated breath. "You have a job that you really love and friends you love going out with, not to mention the cat..."
You sighed. "All those things will be here whenever you've done what you need to. Or I'll meet new people and make new friends. People do it all the time, Buck. Mallory would take Alpine for a while if I asked her."
Whatever argument he was about to pop off with now, you silenced it, pressing a finger to his lips. "Stop telling me what I want or don't want, Buck. I just want you. I love you."
You watched the emotions play across his face like he was a projection onto a movie screen. Incomprehension, and then disbelief, giving way to awe, and then something so, so soft it had his eyes welling up with tears.
He was searching your face, as if trying to sniff out a lie, and then abruptly, his gaze jerked down, swallowing hard. You'd been together a while, slept together, built routines that were comfortable, that he adored, but neither of you had ever broached the "l" word and he hadn't let himself believe you were building something like a life together, something lasting and permanent.
"Really?" he asked weakly.
His surprise broke you. All this time, it had been clear to you, that this was something permanent, that you were building patterns you wanted to live the rest of your life in, a comfortable place to rest and be at home. Meanwhile, he'd been holding himself apart, waiting for his fantasy to end.
"Oh, Bucky," you whispered, felt yourself choking up against your will. "Yeah, I love you , so much, baby. I'm sorry I didn't say it sooner, that I ever made you wonder. I love you, Bucky Barnes, completely and irrevocably."
The arms he wrapped around you were all encompassing, squeezing you tight, with a hint of trembling. "I love you too, doll. So much." His voice was rough with emotion as he clung to you, and you clung right back, arms wrapped tight around his waist, lost in the touch so long that the water started to run cold. You whined as you hurried to wash your hair before it turned to ice and then crawled out.
Wrapped in a towel, you pressed yourself in against Bucky's side. "Does this mean you'll take me to Europe?"
Bucky almost snorted as he wrapped an arm around your shoulders. "Let's be real, I wouldn't have lasted a week without you anyways."
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jen-with-a-pen · 11 months
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F O X HUNT
summary: Not only has HYDRA executed their infiltration on S.H.I.E.L.D., but they have also reclaimed their finest weapon. Your safety isn't the only thing that's compromised.
pairings: WS!Beefy!Bucky Barnes x F!Avenger!Reader
word count: 6.1k
warnings: chasing, being hunted down, implied n0n-con elements, canon-level violence, cursing, implied t0rture, blood, beat1ngs, forced nud1ty, language, HYDRA-level cruelty, Bucky gets Brainwashed (again), there's Steve x Reader if you squint REALLY REALLY hard
read here on ao3!
a/n: This was inspired by last year's Whumptober Day 2: NOWHERE TO RUN - CORNERED, CAGED AND CONFRONTATION. I know it's February JUNE, but shit came up and my motivation tanked lmao thanks adhd med trials Literally have never done a dark(er?) fic before and this one has been cooking for god knows how fucking long now. I hope y'all like it <3 (also the hydra victory au is something i discovered from the lovely @lunarbuck reset series and stewed obsessively over for literal months now. still obsessed with it whoops)
dividers by @firefly-graphics | gif by @lost-shoe | @hydravictrix
my ao3 | my masterlist
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Translations
Lisitsa | лисица - fox/little fox
Soldat | солдат - soldier
Syuda | сюда - over here
Khitraya suka | хитрая сука - sly bitch
Moy priz | мой приз - my prize
Glupaya pizda | глупая пизда - stupid cunt
Moye | мое - mine
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The infiltration was subtle at the start.
A few missions gone mysteriously wrong, agents killed in action or disappearing entirely, hacks that were, thankfully, contained within an inch of a full-blown data breach. All of it seemed so coincidental when it happened, swept under the rug each and every single time before Director Fury could have a swear-filled say as to what the hell was going on. 
But hindsight is 20/20. It always is.
The day S.H.I.E.L.D. fell was, ironically, the perfect day: brilliant sunshine, clear blue skies, a breeze weaving between the towering buildings and skyscrapers. It was almost eerie, in a way, how perfect of a day it was. 
You found yourself in the gym, Steve and Sam hashing it out on whose turn it was in sparring. You had all but knocked Sam out cold in the previous round as Steve watched from behind the ropes, cheering you on with a cocky, proud grin as he watched all of his hard work in your training pay off.
Of course, the stubborn ass he was, Sam wanted another go. 
“C’mon, Steve! I wanna rematch!” Sam protested, gesturing wildly in your direction with one hand while his other held an ice pack to his bruised temple. Steve stifled a laugh, tossing a glance over his shoulder to you. You shook your head, smiling back as you gulped down the rest of your water bottle. Cool strands spilled out from the corners of your lips and down your chest. You welcomed the relief from the sweat gluing your t-shirt to your skin. 
“How ‘bout I take Steve instead of giving you another concussion?” you retorted, giggling as Sam shot a narrow look at you. He huffed, forfeiting his argument by waving a dismissive hand. 
“Fine, ’m gonna go find some pain meds,” he grumbled, turning to point a swollen finger at Steve. “I better see you in the infirmary next, Cap.” 
He stomped off through the metal doors and left the two of you in silence.
“Whaddya say, sweetheart? You up for round two?” Steve teased, stepping under the ropes and into the ring. He wrapped his hands as he moved to the center, muscle memory carrying him while keeping his eager gaze on you. His eyes carried excitement as they journeyed up and down your figure, rolling his lip between his teeth as he drank you with his stare. 
You did little to hide your pride at the Captain checking you out, chewing the corner of your cheek to tame your own smirk at the beautiful blond. You turned away, hiding the heat from your cheeks as you tossed your bottle at your bag. You weaved under the ropes, coming face to face with your willing opponent in the center. You lifted your chin to meet his, the hidden smirk on your lips growing into a grin.
“With you? Always, old man,” you purred. You tossed him a teasing wink as you positioned your fists in front of you, feet planted firmly in the starting stance. Steve lingered on you for a second longer, tongue swiping across his lips hungrily as he cracked his neck and rolled his shoulders, raising his hands to mirror you.
The two of you began to circle one another, dancing in a familiar pattern you knew by heart. Steve took his first swipe at you and you ducked, managing a hit to his stomach. A grunt escaped from him– not of hurt but of thrill. He lunged for you as you dodged again, blocking his failed strike to your head. 
“Wow! You really can’t teach an old dog new tricks!” you taunted, dodging another blow, his wrapped fist only grazing your shoulder. You rolled it back, holding back a slight wince as you continued the violent waltz. 
You lunged at him, instead faltering and falling to the ground. Readying the curse on your tongue, it stopped short of your lips as you looked up at Steve. 
He stood frozen in place, panting, fists at his sides clenching tighter and tighter. As you opened your mouth to unload even more cursing questions, screeching erupted from the loudspeakers around the room. High-pitched tones screaming above, a robotic voice speaking clinically and quickly. You scrambled off the floor, unease creeping in as you latched onto Steve’s arm, his arm tensing under your touch.
CODE WHITE. CODE SILVER. ALL SECURITY AND TEAM UNITS URGENTLY NEEDED. 40th FLOOR. THREAT IS ACTIVE AND HIGHLY DANGEROUS. REPEAT. CODE WHITE. CODE SILVER. ALL SECURITY AND TEAM UNITS–
The message had cut out, static replacing it alongside the echoing alarms throughout the hallways outside the gym. You looked up at Steve. Anxiety surged upon finding his face devoid of all blood, his jaw slack, eyes boring into the metal doors leading to the hallway. He looked scared. 
You’d never seen Steve scared before. 
“Steve, what the fuck was that–”
“Get to the locker rooms and hide,” he ordered. He pulled his arm from you, jumping over the ropes and sprinting to his duffel bag on the floor. He pulled out his phone and dialed frantically as he ran to the doors. 
“Steve!” You stood trembling in the ring as your stomach churned. 
“Now!” he yelled. “I’ll come back for you!” 
He didn’t wait to hear your response as he slammed the gym doors shut, followed by a whir and click.
He locked you in. 
You didn’t– couldn’t– hesitate as a surge of urgency overtook you. You needed to hide. Now. Fast.
Your legs carried you as you jumped out of the ring and raced to grab your duffel bag, sprinting to the back of the gym through another set of double doors. You wove through the tiled maze of the locker room searching for some sort of hiding spot, settling on the showers. You snuck over to the stall at the very end, the closest one to the emergency exit, and ducked under the opaque plastic curtain. Your bag fell to the floor as you climbed onto the stall seat. Blood pumped in your ears, thumping as quickly as your shaky, shallow breathing. Millions of thoughts and questions and worries rushed through your mind at impossible speeds.
White and Silver. Which alert was that for?
You racked through fleeting memories, distant recollections of training and orientation from months ago, searching for anything remotely familiar. You remembered all of the other codes– red, orange, teal– but no white, no silver. 
A faint buzzing sounded from inside your duffel. You lunged, unzipping it and fishing out your phone. Natasha. Her name lit up the screen and you frantically hit the answer key before the call could even think about dropping.
“Where the fuck are you?” Her panicked voice hissed into your ear. Her edged tone was enough to make your stomach backflip faster. 
“Locker rooms, forty-fifth floor. What the fuck is going on, Nat?” Your voice shook as anger and confusion boiled in your blood.
A muffled swear. “Where’s Steve?”
“He ran out, locked me in, told me to hide.” More incoherent curses.
“Fuck, fuck, okay, look, trust me on this, you need to stay where you are, okay? I can get you out, I–” 
High-pitched ringing overtook the speaker, sending you reeling away from the receiver. Static echoed out of the speakers.
“You what? Natasha!”
“No– time– you–”
“Natasha! Hello?”
Beep. Beep. Beep.
You tore the phone away from your ear and choked back the bile rising in your throat. Service was out. The blinking bars at the top of the screen mocked you and your sudden plunge into isolation. 
The lights went next. 
The dull fluorescents flickered. Someone cut the electricity, sending you into almost darkness as the backup generator lights kicked on. Scattered lights from above cast an eerie yellow glow over the shower tiles. You’d only seen this kind of outage happen once before, when New York was hit with Hurricane Noah a few years back.
The fear you felt in that storm paled in comparison to what you felt now.
You sighed, shaky and surrendering, and pulled your body closer to you on the shower bench. A chill snaked its way down your spine as your skin brushed the cool ceramic, an unwelcome addition to the cold already enveloping you. Your sweat-soaked t-shirt and shorts failed to aid you and your aching muscles. Fingernails dug into your kneecaps in a struggle to stop trembling as you tried to focus on your breathing. Inhaling, exhaling, in, out. Screwing your eyes shut, praying to any deity imaginable it was all just a drill, it was all an accident or a misunderstanding or–
The ground shook as a loud bang echoed from outside the locker room. A panicked yelp escaped your throat before your hands could scramble and cover your mouth. You froze as the tremors subsided and listened. It, or they, sounded close. 
Too close. 
Another BANG! Then another. 
Rhythmic, steady blows, each quicker and more powerful than the last. Hands clamped tighter over your lips until your blood froze at the sounds of crushing steel and crumbling concrete. The lump in your throat grew as horrific realization flooded over you. 
They, or it, broke in.
You couldn’t wrap your head around it– those doors were more fortified than Tony’s lab. Four-inch-thick, steel and plexiglass doors with a three-tier secured locking system. Nothing, nobody– not even the strongest Super Soldier– was powerful enough to make the faintest of dents in them.
Racing through who, or what, could have possibly broken into the gym, your train of thought derailed as echoes of men yelling indecipherable words and mixed commands shattered the remaining air of safety you clung to. Listening intently, a mix of combat boots and tactical gear filtered in with the echoed commands.
The S.T.R.I.K.E. Team.
Your legs begged for reprieve from crouching, but your body disobeyed and froze you in place. Part of you didn’t trust who was outside. Footsteps and gruff voices became heavier, closer. The relief that greeted you was replaced again by panic as you listened closer.
Clear, Russian commands resonated at the entrance to the locker rooms. They were coming in. 
Your breath hitched, blood running cold as footsteps closed in. It was one person, but their steps didn’t sound like the heavy boots before them. They sounded more like…
Sneakers?
The rubber from the intruder’s shoes squeaked on the tiled floors. Ragged breathing echoed off the walls. A low growl, accompanied by quiet whirring. Someone big, someone mean. 
Your heart made its way to your throat as the intruder inched closer. Slow, methodical, as if trained in search and rescue. 
It didn’t feel like a rescue.
The lump almost turned into a scream as an echoed BANG carried from the bathroom stalls around the corner. Silence followed, then a growl, then another BANG. The cycle repeated for the remaining stalls, the intruder slowly creeping along. Growls became deeper upon each disappointment. 
Hostages. They were looking for hostages.
Soles squeaked as the intruder changed course, stomping around the corner to search the line of shower stalls. You hiccuped a sob, realizing tears started to trail down your cheeks. Biting your palm only proved a lame attempt to calm your racing heart, a scream threatening to leave your throat as they began tearing the plastic curtains off the stalls. Each clang of metal cracking onto the tile became closer as you ground your teeth into the meat of your hand. Eyes screwed shut, silent prayers raced in your head, pleading to wake up; to wake up from this hellscape of a sick, twisted nightmare. 
The intruder’s steps stopped. 
Your eyes opened, widening at the blurred, hulking shadow standing outside of your stall. They had to be well over six feet. Towering, bulky, monstrous. 
Slowly, the shadow’s hand reached for the curtain. One by one, its fingers closed around the plastic’s edge, preparing to rip it down and rip you open. Eyes burning, hot tears felt like molten metal as you attempted to make yourself as small as possible in your corner, huddling your knees as close as they could be. This was it. This was the end. You prayed– actually fucking prayed– hoping they couldn’t hear your pathetic whimpering, hoping they would make this quick, painless; break your neck or put a gun to your head and get it over with. Leave your body for someone else to find.
“Soldat, syuda!” 
The command made your heart stop.
The shadow froze, stopped by a call from the entrance to the locker room. Skin met your teeth as you bit harder into your hand. Lungs began panicking as you started hyperventilating, bile reaching your throat and burning the back of your tongue. 
The shadow, the monster, growled in protest. It retracted the curled hand from the curtain, wordlessly moving back towards the bathroom stalls. Footsteps faded as muffled conversation floated away from the locker room.
You needed to get the fuck out of there. 
You slid off the bench, legs aching and knees popping as you crouched silently over to the curtain, peeking out behind the plastic. It crinkled quietly and you bit your lip, leaning out ever so slightly over the threshold. 
Tiptoeing around the corner, you faced the emergency exit. The glowing sign omitted a creepy, green glow that added to the eeriness brought by the generator lights. 
This was it.
You slammed the push bar down, throwing the door open with your body and spilling out into the hallway. Sunlight flashed through the infinite glass hallway, blinding you. In your frozen state, you hear commotion from behind the door as it slammed shut. Banging from the other side, the sound of metal on metal, made your teeth grind. Indents from punches dented the door, deforming its smooth outside. You didn’t stay frozen for long as your body screamed at you to fucking move, now.
Your legs obeyed immediately, carrying you through the corridor to the closest means of escape you could find. As you rounded the corner, the crushing sounds of the door breaking off of its hinges hit your ears. You didn’t dare to look back, sprinting through the twists and turns of the infinite hallway. You followed what felt familiar, burning muscles egged on by the sound of pounding footsteps getting closer and closer.
Finally, you stumbled onto the entrance to a stairwell, pausing to gasp for air your lungs demanded. The burn in your legs and chest only aided in the physiological need to hyperventilate. Sweat dripped from your temple and your head pounded as hard as your feet hitting the ground. 
You leaned into the safety bar, inches away from further distancing yourself from whatever, whoever, was on your trail, when a yell erupted from the end of the hallway. 
It felt like slow-motion; one of those scenes in those cheesy horror movies Sam always made you and Steve watch on weekends off. The ones with cheap FX, bad sound, but somehow great editing for the budget. The scenes where realization hits the main character and suddenly everything is half the speed while they still move in real time. 
You turned your head towards the source. Then, it hit you. Blood drained from your face as the horror of realization hit you, like a speeding sixteen-wheeler head on.
Bucky Barnes stood hulking at the end of the hallway. Generator lights and setting sun illuminated his snarling teeth, gleaming from parted lips that had him panting like a rabid dog. If you hadn’t known better it would’ve looked like he was heading for the gym for his daily workout. Blown pupils, sweat-stuck hair, complimented by a shaking frame– most definitely caused by adrenaline, dopamine, and a slew of Gods-knew-what other drugs he had pumped into his system. Splotches of drying, smeared blood coated his neck and shirt while even more dripped onto the ground from his fists. The crimson contrasted with the medically white floors. 
Bile rose in your throat again. The acidic taste made you dry heave at the sight of the blood, knowing from the looks of Bucky it definitely wasn’t his.
He snarled as your eyes finally met. Fists of flesh and metal flexed. Rippling muscles shook as he readied to launch forward.
“You’re mine, lisitsa!” he barked. His voice booming louder than the speed of sound, it made your ears ring.
Your throat finally opened. You screamed as he sprinted towards you, making more ground down the hallway than an apex predator out of hibernation. You shoved the exit door open, heaving your legs forward as you ascended the stairs. No choice but to go up, you refused to look back– nay you didn’t dare to even consider it. Muscles and tendons and joints burned, yearning for you to stop, but the door slamming from flights below you only pushed you harder, flying up and passing floor after floor. 
You were fast, but he was faster. 
Dizziness overtook you as your vision began to blur. Darkened edges of your peripherals made you stop your climb at level 50, pausing for a split second to hear Bucky’s progress. He was close behind, but you still had more of an advantage. You knew the Tower better than him. You knew level 50 had another stairwell on the opposite side of the floor, through another hallway off the corner of your current one. Sneakers pounded too close for comfort as you shoved the door open and made a break for it down another corridor labyrinth.
If you made it out of this alive, you swore you’d kill Tony’s architect yourself. 
“You can’t hide forever, lisitsa!” Bucky’s voice rang out from the stairwell as you rounded the corner, sprinting through more identical-looking hallways. Another corner later and the glowing red EXIT sign appeared above the next stairwell. A beacon of hope, almost. Relieved, you head straight for it, body and mind and soul pushing against the burning and the gasping for air. You were right there, hand outstretched, fingertips grasping the metal bar–
It felt like a car crash. 
Not an accident or fender bender. No, it felt like seventy miles an hour meets a tree with no intent of moving. That split-second feeling where your stomach drops and you can all but brace for the deadly impact destined for you to meet.
Time stopped as you were yanked backwards. Cold, slick metal wrapped around your ankle, bloody hand print smearing some poor bastard’s DNA all over your calf as your body fell to the ground. Hard. Your jaw clenched as your chin slammed into the linoleum. Teeth ground into your tongue as copper flooded your tastebuds. Your lungs, with little wind left in them, gasped for oxygen. Another scream rising in your throat became stuck in your vocal cords. 
Bucky whipped you around as you struggled to free your lower half. You landed on your shoulder, head bouncing against the floor and teary eyes struggled to stay open and endure the pain. He straddled your form, the weight crashing down on your bones and organs. A sharp inhale impaled your chest as you met Bucky’s darkened eyes, then; the familiar steel blue replaced entirely with dilated, unhinged pupils. 
It was the first time you got a good look at his face. His face is speckled with blood spatter and several bruises spread across his cheek down his neck. Two black eyes, a bloody nose– one you hoped was his– and a broken lip. The bloodied collar of his shirt only aided in the mess of his hair. His soft, chocolate strands stuck in mats to his neck and temples with sweat and blood. 
Out of sheer habit, because he looked like your Bucky, you couldn’t help but reach a hand out to him. A soft plea for the man behind his eyes, one you begged everything holy was still there. He held your stare, face contorting into unrecognizable emotions. Tears brimmed your eyes as your hand stretched further, sobs escaping as your fingers inched closer and closer to his battered face.
“Bucky, it’s me–”
Your appeal transformed into a shriek, quickly snuffed out as Bucky wrapped his crimson-spattered metal hand around your throat. You choked, sputtering lost pleas as your hands flew to your neck. Fingernails flailed in futile attempts to claw off the weapons-grade titanium. 
“You’re done running, khitraya suka,” Bucky’s hot breath fanned your face as he leaned in. His mouth grazed your jaw, titanium hand on your throat flexing with each syllable. He slowly made his way down your neck, pushing harder into your chest with his forearm. A heavy growl. His grip only tightened as you tried to knee him in the groin, picking you up by your neck and slamming you down again.
Stars circled your blurred vision, eyes rolling back into your head. The corridor, the lights, everything split into two.
“You owe me for my victory, lisitsa,” Bucky’s husky whisper resonated in your ear as he licked the side of your face, his hot, wet mouth against your tear-stained cheek. As his free hand moved to the waistband of your shorts, another surge of panic washed through you. You tried to sputter a weak cry from your closed-off throat, blood turning cold, another scream building and building in your chest and aching for release. 
“You owe me what’s mine –!” 
BANG!
Something from somewhere all of a sudden. The object slammed into Bucky, throwing him off of you and spilling across the floor. 
Finally, your lungs lunged at the chance for air, leaving you a heaving, choking, coughing mess. Spitting at the ground as you made your way shakily to your hands and knees, a freed hand traveling to rub the fresh strangulation bruises forming on the column of your stiff neck. 
“Get the fuck off her, Bucky!” 
Steve.
As your vision cleared, the shield whizzed past you as it ricocheted back into Steve’s open arms. Bucky groaned, low and guttural, but only for a moment is he subdued. Slowly, he rose, like smoke from extinguished ashes, looking to his metal vice. A large dent adorned the weathered, bloodied appendage where his bicep met his shoulder. He then turned his attention to Steve, baring his teeth, anger coursing through him as he immediately disregarded you. His sights set on a new target, launching himself at Steve without a beat lost.
Steve grunted as Bucky’s metal fist met the vibranium shield with a deafening clang. Steve gritted his teeth and pushed back, managing to break Bucky’s attack and aim a kick for his stomach.
“Go! I got him!” Steve yelled to you through a gasp as Bucky countered with his own swipe at Steve’s middle. Your body stayed put, relishing in the ability to fucking breathe again, also painfully aware how screwed you’d be if you didn’t escape as you had the chance. You willed yourself to move, to run and to keep going, to no avail. As Steve landed a blow to Bucky, his eyes met yours once more. His baby blues, pained and tired, begged for you to listen to him for once in your life. 
“Now!”
The strain in Steve’s voice seemed to ignite a fire underneath you. Pushing yourself up, you willed your legs to carry you to the exit. Bloody shoe prints tracked your route as you slammed through the doorway. You cursed, knowing they’ll give away which way you’d go, knowing your life matters more than a twenty-dollar pair of sneakers. Kicking them off, throwing the pair down the exit, praying they made it far enough Bucky wouldn’t know any better. 
You threw yourself up the stars, tremors and pain afflicting every limb as the cold concrete seeped in through your socks in each step. The railing helped as you heaved yourself forward with help from the railing. Sweaty palms slipped on the bars, but your grip only grew tighter. 
You didn’t know how you, or your body, was able to do it, making it up seven more flights of stairs before your knees buckled on level 57. Heaving the door open and slamming it shut, you stumbled out into the new hallway. You hadn’t visited that level before. Something Steve and the others– especially Doctor Banner– said was “just a business floor.”
The sign on the wall directing to ‘SAFELAB’ said otherwise. Nothing in the Tower was “just business.” 
What you did know was that every SAFELAB on every floor was located in the same, far-east hallway. 
Wiping the sweat from your temple, you turned right, jogging down the darkened, emptied-out hallway. It felt like the apocalypse. No sign of anybody else. Doors left ajar, papers and bags and other employee memorabilia scattered throughout abandoned offices and cubicles. You hoped everyone was able to make it out, at least.
Part of you didn’t hope for much, though. 
The door to the lab came into view as you rounded the last corner. The door was still locked, the lab inside sterile and untouched. A sigh of relief escaped you. Holding your palm to the door’s scanner, it answered your prayers in a soft beep and whir, miraculously allowing you in. 
You maneuvered through the multiple security doors, four in total, crouching low once you managed to slip into the lab itself. The gigantic window at the front of the labspace spared no room for you to hide easily, but you had zero room to complain about it. It was your only option, after all.
Well, besides the roof. 
Crouched, you snuck your way around the counters and various equipment to one of the supply closets. The furthest corner from the entrance. You scoured through drawers and cupboards for some sort of weaponry; the most you could find was a new scalpel out of a box of extras. 
You closed in on the supply closet, reaching up and grasping the handle, turning it slowly to prevent any squeaks from the inner hinge. A tear glided down your cheek in relief. You hadn’t realized you started crying. Again. 
The door swung open. It greeted you mostly empty, deep enough for you to cram your body into. Crawling inside, bones and limbs contorted into the most comfortable position you could manage. You pinched the edges of the doors to close them as best as you can, accepting they, in fact, couldn’t close all the way from the inside. A curse under your breath, the sliver of dim light through the crack cast onto your face. Once settled, you crumpled your damp t-shirt up from the collar and shoved the fabric into your mouth. Teeth and tongue greeted sweaty cotton and hints of copper as you bit down on the collar, covering your mouth with a free hand. 
At last, after Gods knew how long it had been since you ceased moving, a silenced sob heaved out of your chest. Tremors only worsened as your nervous system rode out the fumes of its adrenaline high and flight mode instincts. Hot tears spilled down your cheeks, mixing with snot further down your face, slipping down to your neck and leaving behind streaked paths in the bloodied, hand-printed bruises adorned on your flesh. The pain from the near-strangulation you suffered broke through the shock and endorphins that were keeping you sane until then. You knew, though, you couldn’t break down. Not yet. Not until you saw Natasha or Steve or someone you trusted face-to-face. 
You started counting your breaths. Mind racing, thoughts traveling near sonic speeds through your mind carrying questions at how the hell it all happened.
You thought for sure S.H.I.E.L.D. was secure, especially after the ordeal with Bucky, Steve, and the whole ‘defeating HYDRA’ ordeal from a few years back. Hell, you thought it was safer than taking the FBI’s recon mission that was offered to you before being referred to Tony himself. Your mind raced, what-ifs and endless possibilities flashing across your eyes like a snuff film. You hoped Steve was okay. You hoped Natasha was on her way to your location any second. You hoped Sam was safe and made it out okay. You hoped Bucky –
Bucky. 
Christ, you hadn’t even stopped to think about how the hell everything happened to him. He’d been doing so well in his recovery program. Steve was even telling you about it that same morning, bragging about how well Bucky was doing, how much progress he was making, how soon they’d finally be able to move in together once Doctor Banner cleared him. Another sob overtook you. How you’d never seen him like that before, the feeling of his titanium arm slowly crushing your windpipe, the weight of his entire body crushing your internal organs as he’d held you down. The things he’d said. You tried to wrap your head around what he’d said, what he was going to do–
Crashing followed by shattering glass emitted a muffled yelp from you as your blood ran cold. Another wave of tears flooded out of your burning eyes, chest heaving unevenly. Your hand clamped even tighter over your mouth as teeth bit into the salty fabric of your shirt, drying up any more moisture your mouth was grateful to finally have.
BANG! Then another. Then more in rapid succession. Shattering, crashing, shattering, silence. The final blow to the security doors sounded from inside the lab itself. Your breath hitched and bile began bubbling in your stomach, reaching the back of your throat and across your tongue. You forced yourself to swallow the acid, listening intently to the crunch of sneakers on shattered glass.
He’d found you. 
“Lisitsaaa,” Bucky drawled, his voice dropped to a primally low octave. Lower than before. You almost couldn’t make out the words, a mixture of growled mumblings of English and Russian. Knees folded closer to your chest, you tightened your grip on the handle of the scalpel. Bucky’s footsteps were slow, methodical, predatorial. 
His heavy steps inched closer, each followed by a pause, then sudden crashing of lab equipment and smashing of drawers. More glass and metal slammed to the ground and walls after each pause. He sounded feet away. Then inches. 
Your breathing stopped as the sliver of light clouded over. The lump in your throat threatened more puke to rise as you dared to peer up through the crack, heart dropping like a dead weight to your stomach as your eyes fell on freshly bloodied sneakers. A stifled scream in your lungs choked you. You refused to think about whose blood that was.
Eyes darted back up. You could see Bucky’s blurred features clouded in shadows. The only light visible, then, was the glint from his wicked smile. Bloodied teeth shone as he licked his lips hungrily, a predator finally cornering its prey. 
Ever so slowly he crouched, shoving his face closer into the seam in the door. Tears and snot continued to stream down your face, your body hyperventilating as you forced yourself to look into his eyes. There was nothing else you could do. Nothing else to say, to cry about. There was nowhere left to run. He got you. 
“There you are, moy priz,” Bucky hissed before reaching through and throwing the doors open, heavy hands leaving imprints in the flimsy metal. Frozen, your fist was still closed around the scalpel, your muscles tensed as joints locked in place. His evil eyes scanned your body greedily, looking for which cut of meat to divulge in first. His gaze stopped at your fist and he chuckled, tisking in a disappointed tone. 
“Oh, glupaya pizda,” Bucky shook his head, amused at your meager choice of weaponry. Compared to him, you might as well have been waving a white flag. His smile only grew, tongue jutting out to lick his lips. Specks of blood coated the sides of his cheeks and edges of his mouth, smeared about from ear to ear with the back of his hand.
“Come with me and they might consider your life, lisitsa–”
You sprung into him, swinging your arm, landing the scalpel into the middle of his flesh hand, impaling straight through it. In an instant, blood spewed from the impact. Bucky screamed out in pain, a slew of mixed language curses reverberating in your skull. You scrambled out of your hiding place, bashing him with a balled fist to the face as you tumbled out and onto your feet, sprinting to the lab’s only exit. Freedom was only an arm’s length away when an overturned stool tripped you. The impact didn’t hurt near as much as the millions of shattered glass bits shredded cut into your skin, your hands and knees and arms and face littered as blood smeared under you and across the once-sterile white floors. You cried out, writhing around. Battered and bloodied, struggling to rise and run again despite the searing pain in your ankle.
Before you could form your next thought, a rough hand snatched your scalp and dragged you up by your hair. You uttered a panicked scream as Bucky hoisted you to eye level, snarling like a rabid dog as he shook you hard.
“I thought you were smarter than that, lisitsa,” he sneered, “but I was wrong.”
He hurled you back onto the floor, his bloodied, titanium fist still gripping your hair, dragging you over to one of the disheveled lab tables. More glass shredded your skin, blood and sweat and tears mixing and pouring over your face and hands and body. With ease and a free hand, he swiped the rest of the contents off another counter; beakers and burners crashed to the floor. His grip tightened as he threw you up onto the stainless steel counter, the dead weight of your body banging onto the table, landing you hard on your back. Eardrums rang into your skull and jaw, radiating down your spine and out your limbs. Your hands slip against the smooth metal from the blood, futile attempts to grab onto something, anything. You groaned and huffed excess sobs. The pain, unbearable; the fear, unimaginable. 
Bucky hoisted himself onto the table, landing on top of your broken body, his knee hitting your spine and knocking your last breath out of you. Straddling you, his thick thighs bulged through tattered sweatpants, squeezing into your rib cage. He looped another fist into your hair, raising your head and slamming it down. The side of your face smushed into the steel table, smearing around more blood as he did it again. And again. The cartilage in your nose cracked and throbbing pain radiated into your eyes, your skull. Warmth from the break and the blood poured over your face. The pain, dulling into numbness as you began to fade in and out of consciousness.
Your vision started to blur and blacken, stars and specks orbiting around Bucky like a halo of hallucination. Your body, finally surrendering to him. No fight left. Any strength you could have mustered, funneled into staying awake, proved useless. 
A new sound, then: ripping.
You didn’t have to look to witness Bucky unrelentingly tear your t-shirt away from your body, training his eyes on your open form. Bruised skin exposed to cool air, your chest still momentarily held together by your sports bra. He made quick work of it next, the nylon snapping off in one swipe, sending goosebumps racing down your spine. 
Ice-cold titanium fingers untangled from your matted hair and made their way from your nape, to the small of your back, to the waistband of your gym shorts. Muscles tensed as you felt each digit wrap almost leisurely onto the elastic. He tore them away swiftly, baring the rest of you and your skin to him. A growl, one of pleasure, vibrated into you from him, emitted he palmed the skin of your ass. His fingers journeyed languidly in a slow trail from your back to your core. You squirmed, wasting the last of your strength, a hopeless attempt to get away one last time. 
A crack came across your face. Flesh against flesh, he slapped you. A punishment. A command for obedience. Your body fell limp. Breathing raggedly and gagging on blood and spit, you shuddered as he took your wrists and tied them together with your t-shirt. 
Satisfied, his prey finally submitting, Bucky paused, panting as he leaned down to you. He wet his lips before speaking, gruff words slurred against your ringing eardrum. As he spoke, cold metal grazed your entrance, a threat of what was to come. 
“Now, I get to take what’s mine.”
Your screams echoed as the world fell dark.
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heytheredelulu · 11 days
Note
ready to comply part 2? 👉👈
As you wish!
I may have left this one on a cliff hanger as well. 🫣
I’M SORRY! I was just having so much fun I had to leave it open in case there was interest for a part three. ❤️
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Ready to Comply - Part Two
Requested by @littleone2001
Soldat!Bucky Barnes x PlusSized!Reader
Word Count: 1.7k
ALL OF MY WORK IS 18+
C/W: Language, discussion/implications of violence and murder, gun play (sorry, not sorry), unprotected sex, rough sex, a lil boob slap (once, because I had to), spanking, fingering (f receiving), anal fingering (f receiving), brief discussion of kidnapping/making reader his sex slave
✏️ A/N at the end.
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“All I can smell is how wet you are.”
Oh fuck.
You muster up a small, broken sound from your chest when the realization finally hits you that your desire is overwhelming Bucky’s senses to the point that he’s struggling just to think.
“I-“
His fingers hook beneath the saturated fabric of your panties, his fingers grazing against your folds and igniting a heat in your body that sets your nerves on fire.
He tears them away, reducing them to a tattered rag in his fist which he brings to his nose and inhales deeply before he discards them to the floor with a growl.
He forces your thick thighs apart, spreading you open with his trembling fingers to observe your tight, wet hole as it clenches desperately around nothing.
“Fuck!”
His breath catches in his chest and he stumbles back, withdrawing the gun from his shoulder holster and brandishing it at you.
Your eyes widen as you snap your legs shut, raising your hands defensively and shrinking back in horror.
Bucky steps forward and presses the barrel of the gun against your chin, tilting your head up to look at him.
“I’m sorry.” He chokes out.
“You’re going to kill me.” You whisper, fear taking hold as your eyes screw shut and a tear slips down your cheek.
He shakes his head slowly, tracing the cool metal of his weapon along your jawline. “No, I ain’t gonna kill you. Not yet.”
Your eyes open, your expression twisting into one of confusion. “Then why.. why are you sorry?”
He sets his jaw, lifting his left hand to tuck a loose strand of hair behind your ear. “Because I’m gonna hurt you.” He rasps.
Your brows knit in concern. “What do y-“
Bucky cuts you short, replying only by dipping his gun between your legs, pressing it firmly against your bare, weeping cunt.
Your entire body seizes in terror but as he drags the cool, hard weapon along your slick folds, the fear gives way to something else entirely.
“You don’t wanna hurt me..” You say slowly, carefully, biting back a moan as the barrel of the gun grazes across your clit.
“But I do.” He taunts, pulling the gun away and gripping your jaw with bruising force. He presses it to your mouth, your slick coating the metal and wetting your bottom lip. “Open.” He growls, leaving you little choice with how hard he’s holding your chin. He forces the gun into your mouth, your eyes wide in apprehension. “Suck.” He demands, pressing it down on your tongue. You swirl your tongue around it, tasting yourself on the bitter metal. He groans, withdrawing it harshly from your mouth with a string of spittle and tucking it back into its holster.
“I’m gonna fuck you. And it’s gonna hurt.” He mutters, his calloused fingers moving to unbuckle his belt.
“Bucky y-“ He pinches your cheeks together painfully in his metal hand, effectively silencing you.
“Quit fuckin’ calling me that!” He snaps, using his grip on your jaw to yank you forward to him.
“Soldat.” He corrects in a menacing tone, nodding your head for you to ensure you understood.
“That is my name. I suggest you remember it, because you’re about to be screaming it.”
He releases your face harshly, reaching to pull his hard, thick cock from his jeans and spitting into his palm. He curls his hand around his impressive length and pumps himself lazily from base to tip, rubbing his thumb roughly over the slit and smearing beads of precum along his shaft to mingle with his saliva.
Your eyes follow every stroke of his hand as he closes in on you, your brain working to comprehend just how in the hell your body was going to accommodate his size.
He’s right. This is going to hurt.
He clutches the neckline of your dress with his free hand, ripping and tearing the fabric until you’re bared to him and he kneads at your breast roughly pinching the pebbled flesh of your nipple harshly between his fingers, drawing a small cry from you.
“Buc-“ You stammer.
He slaps your tit hard and you wince from the sting as it radiates across the tender flesh of your ample breast.
“Soldat.” He growls through clenched teeth, hiking your legs to rest your heels on his shoulders and tilting your pelvis upwards as he lines himself up with your aching entrance.
You suck in a sharp breath as the crown of his cock breeches your tight, wet hole and you writhe underneath him against the sting as he splits you open, stretching your cunt and filling you in a way you’ve never experienced.
A shameless moan erupts from your throat when he begins to snap his hips, fucking into you with a merciless rhythm. What was once pain is quickly building into pleasure and your back arches up off the desk.
“So fucking tight.” He grunts, his heavy sack swinging with every deep thrust into your dripping cunt. His jaw clenches and he digs his fingers into the soft flesh of your thighs, spreading you wider as he tucks his chin to watch himself disappear into your wet heat with a predatory gaze.
Pleasure builds in your abdomen and you rock your hips to meet his hungry thrusts, biting down on your bottom lip as his thick cock massages your inner walls. The corners of his mouth twitch as if he’s biting back a smirk when he registers you eagerly moving in sync with him. He snakes a hand down between you, tracing his fingers along the girth of his cock where he’s filling you and gathers your slick along his fingertips, raising his hand and spreading his fingers to admire the sheen of your wetness with a thoughtful expression.
Without warning he withdraws, leaving you desperate and empty when he lets your right leg drop and curls his hand around your left ankle, flipping you hard onto your stomach. He grabs your hips and yanks you backwards towards him so you’re bent over your desk with the lip of it biting into your pelvis. He delivers a harsh smack to your ass, kneading the soft flesh in his hand, then dipping his head down to suck a bruise into the skin before biting down hard into your plump cheek. You yelp and raise yourself up on your palms, but Bucky splays a large, calloused hand across your back, forcing you back down and kicking your legs wider with the toe of his boot.
He plunges two fingers in your thoroughly fucked hole, coating them in your arousal before withdrawing them and sinking his cock back into your swollen cunt. Strangled noises of pleasure catch in your throat and you push your hips back greedily to meet him, your walls throbbing around him as ruts into you, his balls slapping against your clit and sending shockwaves through you with every brutal thrust.
He spreads your ass cheeks roughly, teasing his wet index finger along your backside, circling your puckered hole and causing you to squirm. He presses into you, working his finger in sync with his hips, massaging it into you until you manage to take him to the knuckle and he lets out a satisfied groan that you nearly drown out in your own wanton moan.
“Fuck.” He rasps out, pain blooming as he moves to add a second finger. You cry out at the intrusion, your hands clenching into fists above your head and your nails biting into your palms as he rocks his fingers into you, scissoring you open.
You thought you’d been full when it was only his cock but fuck, were you wrong.
It was too much.
It was too good.
The tension wound tight in your abdomen finally snaps and you completely shatter.
A choked sob rips from your throat and your pussy spasms, your walls fluttering around his cock and your asshole contracting around his fingers as you scream, your orgasm tearing through you with enough force to make your head spin and your ears ring.
“Fuck, fuck, fuck!”
He slips his fingers from your tight hole, grabbing hold of your hips with both hands and slamming into you with unrelenting force, fucking you through each wave of euphoria as they crashed over you in succession.
“I’m gonna tell them I killed you.” He grunts, his cock kissing your cervix. “So no one will ever come looking for you.”
You mumble incoherently, tears of ecstasy staining your cheeks as you lay limp in the wake of your earth shattering release while he continues to pound into you at a steady pace.
“I think I’ll keep you tied to my bed.” He whispers in a menacing tone, his thrusts growing frantic as he chases his impending orgasm. “I’m gonna fuck every hole in your body, every day, until you can’t fucking take it anymore.”
Bucky snaps his hips forward in one last powerful thrust and then stills, shouting a string of curses as his cock pulses and he pulls your plump ass flush to his pelvis, emptying himself deep inside of you.
He tilts his head back, his chest rising and falling erratically and then pulls out, staggering back as you rise up and turn to face him with flushed cheeks and hair slicked against your sweaty forehead.
“Get dressed.” He orders, tugging his jeans up and fastening his belt. “You’re coming with me.”
You nod and move on weak knees, feeling his cum slowly leaking from your cunt as you gather your blazer. He watches you carefully as you pull it on, buttoning it in an attempt to cover your naked body.
Bucky holds out his hand impatiently and you take it, cautiously moving closer to him, your thighs sticky as they rub together with every step you take.
You place a palm flat against his chest and he looks down at you with his brows furrowed in confusion at your gentle gesture before you rise up on your tiptoes, pressing your mouth against his. He stiffens momentarily but quickly reciprocates, his tongue teasing at your bottom lip in a silent demand to deepen the kiss. You comply, moving your tongue slowly against his in a sensual dance and tracing your hands along his broad chest as you lean further into him.
When you break the kiss abruptly and step back out of his embrace, he blinks in bewilderment before his face contorts into rage as he registers that he’s staring into the barrel of his own gun.
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Taglist (Taglist is open):
@littleone2001 @suz7days @truthfulliarr @lilacka @writtingrose @samsgoddess @loveisallyouneed1125 @vicmc624 @millercontracting @wildernessflora @mydorkyboys @blackhawkfanatic @honestlywork @ladyvenera @cavity-exe
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A/N: My husband gave me so much shit for this while I was writing it: tHiS iSnT cAnOn, BuCkY wOuLdNt Do ThAt, iT dOeSnT mAkE sEnSe
Look, I know. It’s a fanfic, it’s AU, it’s not canon.
Anyway, now I’m really anxious about posting this, worried that it won’t meet your expectations. So I hope you enjoy so I can tell my husband to suck it. 😈
💋Sj
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samodivaa · 11 months
Text
Deny the truth,set my world on fire (Part 1)
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Bucky Barnes x Reader (Winter Soldier x Reader)
✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧ Part 2⋆*・゚:⋆*・ Part 3 ⋆*・゚:⋆* Part 4⋆*・゚:⋆* He knew that she was having an affair...she denies, but the love marks on her body are still there. She can't tell him the truth, it will break him - the Winter Soldier is indeed inside of him, fucking her at night and Bucky doesn't remember. ✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧ Warnings - heavy angst, betrayal, smut, non consensual, dom!Soldat. rough!Soldat Words - 2000
Bucky was already waiting on the couch, tormented by the decision he has made – to confront her. Y/n enters their shared apartment, carelessly smiling at him. She seemed so generous about her love – a constant presence and support since the fight on the airport years ago. Grace and patience and consideration is what she made him master once again, these little qualities are in his control, thanks to her kind soul. Y/n helped him forgive himself and he chose to return love and compassion, chose to fight his past. Wakanda was their secret - beautiful and peaceful. Her heart was born open and although his hands were empty at the time, he filled them with the soft fire made from the two ember eyes. The dreamy mind is full, overflows with tender memories… When she enters a room, it blazes with red, pink, roses, but behind her blossomed spirit stood a façade he was not aware of. The floral presence is poisoned, spreading into him. And just like the deadly nightshade, she is indeed is a poisonous flower.
"How long has this been going on?" he asks coldly, taking a sip of his bottle before putting it back on the table. A stressed dove, mournfully looking at her as he gets up. "How long?" he asks again. „Bucky, what is the matter with you?“ There won’t be a chance of escape, he steps closer, towering over her as some sort of a warning. He just came back to life, laying under the warmth of it and is already being burned by the person who he trusted the most. Abstained for far too long, he needs to hear her says it – he needs the truth to devour his life. "Can I ask what happened to your neck?" pointing to her neck, his tone is still neutral, but his eyes are exhausted by the phantom following his mind the past days. Love makes knots, now it is brutally tearing them apart. He ran from the darkness of his nightmares for so long, only to find himself in a situation darker still. „I don’t know“ she is wearing a turtleneck shirt, she hates those – inside she is crumbling as much as her lies. “You don’t know?” his tone strays to the realms of anger – it consumes him, fear ensnares her until her back hits the wall behind, Bucky not withdrawing from her face even for a moment “Who was it?“
"No one, Bucky" she manages to retain her posture, not giving him the satisfaction of telling the truth. The blade of her words hit a nerve. "You’re terrible at lying" He crosses his hands, nails digging into his arms. Silence looms for a while before he nods, his dearest love painting his misery and his eyes ache with the weight of the unspoken truth. “So no explanation, got it" „I don’t know how I got them…“ Bucky’s eyes narrow slightly, trying to shackle his intention of breaking something. "So you have no idea what happened to your neck? Are you making fun of me or do you have brain damage“ his tone finally rises as he takes the collar of her shirt between his metal fingers, pulling it down rashly to reveal the bite marks. The image wraps around his throat as a wreath of spikes. “Who did that to your neck, because I am sure that it was not me“ „Jesus Bucky, why are you so angry, I didn’t do anything. We literally spend most-“ He laughs devilishly, still holding her by the colar. “Just so many bad things happening in my life. Nothing important, nothing new, just one thing after another, you know?” There is no such thing as life for him , it's just catastrophe. Unmoored and alone, his eyes become full of tears. The only still part is his body. He gives her one more chance to say something, to explain herself in any way, but the silence is pain chiselled forever into his chest, it hurts more than words. "Don’t be angry, please…let me go…“ "Don’t be angry…don’t be angry" he whispers as a lullaby, staring into her teary eyes. His eyebrows furrowed at her audacity to even cry. "We shared a life and you to cheated on me" His favorite beauty and terror on myriad levels keep her silence. He decides to let go of her collar, his fingers clenching to fists as their drop weightlessly to the sides of his body. "You expect me to believe this…? Really, y/n?” he says , his expression is still angry, but it appears softer "If you didn’t want to tell me because you‘re afraid, it‘s fine. Just be honest and tell me that, why are you still lying? That hurts me more than you think." „I am not…“ He stands there unmoving, staring at her and it seems like he‘s still processing this realty of her not having any concern towards him. Her mind is resting whilst his is grieving, wondering and reasoning. He can’t gain control of his dreadful spirit, he is the shell he was back at Wakanda. A tear runs down from the wet, dreamful eyes, landing on his cheek as he looks down, trying to hide it from her. Bucky takes a step away from her and rubs his eyes. His hands are shaking and it‘s obvious that he doesn’t want to cry in front of her. Their love is his apparition, a figment of his imagination. He observe her for a moment, he is dying in that house, buried underneath the floor of their shared past and she just watches it unfold. Bucky finally shakes his head in disbelief. "So you‘re telling me you have no idea where that bruise came from?" a weak laugh escapes his lips, choking back a sob. „You’re lying, I know it“ he says in a calm voice, but there was a quiet threat hidden beneath it. „I don’t want to leave, Bucky“ "And I don‘t want to get cheated on" he counters with an angry scream as his pain is infinite at this point. All kind of thoughts stirring inside of him. „I won’t say it wasn’t meant to be, because it was. We were. Only for a short while, maybe. But we were.“ It makes him tremble to remember their daily life, but now he is unsure which pain is worse: the shock of what happened or the ache for what never will. „I can’t tell you...I can’t...I will leave“ she whispers, having found a comfort in hiding. "Fine, leave then!” Bucky snarls, before he spins around as his heavy footsteps resonate through the quiet room, but he stops himself to look at her for the last time – the end of the line.
Bucky watches her leave, already nostalgic for his love. He doesn’t say a word, not even bothering to close the door as he stands in the doorstep, watching her go. Y/n notices him staring from the darkness of the doorway as she makes her way into the world. Bucky’s inner self is shutting down more and more, as though to protect himself, but it became inaccessible even to himself. Over the next couple of days, Bucky shuts himself completely in his lonely home. He only leaves the apartment to buy alcohol and some food. His days are spent either drinking or sleeping, and when he‘s awake and sober, he just sits on the couch blankly, staring at the wall. He is composed of nothing, but illness – a phantom built out of pain. The days turn to weeks. With his heart broken, he despises life. Rising from a grave with each morning, wallowing in his sadness and alcohol. („What went wrong...Did I do something wrong?”) he wonders for weeks repeatedly, tears again rolling down his cheeks. „What did I do to deserve this“ he screams, slamming his metal fist into the wall, there is nothing but a stain in his heart, it grew – infecting the whole heart. He slowly slides down, sitting on the ground as he buries his head into his arms and starts to cry.
- Two days before she left - „Bucky, baby…I don’t wanna do anything tonight, let’s just sleep“ he was getting harder and harder, pressing into her back to let her know. He whispers in her ear, but the voice is huskier than usual and filled with seduction „Цветок...“ (Flower) Bucky’s control is slipping once again and y/n gups at the realization. The metal grip tightens on her hip, drawing her even closer to his clothed cock. Fingers pass through the fabric of the nightdress, pulling it upwards to reveal her butt cheeks. His warm hand, spilled under her body proceeding to lightly trace his fingers over her nipple. She knows to her remove the panties by herself, not wanting to anger the Soldier from the very beginning as it happened last time. He groans, closing his eyes to savor the scent of her hair. Vibranium fingers digs his into her soft skin, leaving prints of evidence. „No, don’t…please…he will see“ she desperately tries to voice her concern, knowing there is no way of fighting him in this state. „Пусть он увидит…“ (let him see) His breath fanned the skin of her neck, sending chills to the bone.
He dragged his length through her wetness, pushing in fully leaving y/n with no time to adjust. Tears roll down her beautiful face, why this keeps on happening? The warm touches of his human arm move to from her nipple to her stomach „Я хочу ребенка...да.“ (I want a baby…yes) She takes a deep breath, sometimes regret settles in for not telling Bucky that the Winter Soldier was very present and real. He never seems to remember, they operate as different people. She whimpers at the cold touch to her clit, he was flicking it, making her body shake. His hand returns to her hip, grabbing it harshly as he starts thrusting deeply. His pace becomes erratic, being closer to his orgasm. Soldat forcefully holds her in place so he can fill her with hot cum. Her reality hurts so much. She wants to get away, but when she had tried before – resulted in him being close to sadistic. His fingers trail to her hair, removing it from her neck and he sinks his teeth. Goosebumps trickle up there, from fear, from pain as he slowly turns her head towards him – there is no sight of Bucky.
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httpwintersoldier · 10 months
Text
『night visits. || winter soldier x reader』
pairing: winter soldier x f!reader words: lenghty summary: usually people find their own interests, but when you are "forecefully recruited" to work under HYDRA, your interest found you first.
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『part 2』
You thought your studies and hard work would be rewarded, especially being one of the only women in the field. You thought all of the late nights studying, all of the potential relationships lost over fear of falling behind in your studies and all of the golden years invested would be worth it. You would be praised, given numerous titles and be able to help the community and give back to Society.
Except that didn't happen.
The payment for your hard work came in the form of a kidnapping. By Hydra. After appearing in the paper, being praised for your skills and knowledge, unbeknownst to you, a target had been placed by one of the most evil forces walking the earth.
Someone as bright and qualified as you who did not yet have the influence or the contacts to generate buzz in the media or in the government when kidnapped qas rare, and Hydra recognized the fact. So one late night, as you were coming back from your lab alone, you were hit in the back of the head and next thing you knew you were sitting in a metal chair, shaking in cold, with two men standing by your side and another menacingly sitting in front of you, waiting for you to wake up.
"The world sure is cruel..." Were your only thoughs, as tears ran down your emotionless face, when you heard where you were and what your purpose was.
You couldn't even choose the easy way out and... "eliminate yourself". They made sure you knew the worst would happen to your loved ones if you did so. So you complied, in hopes there would be a way out.
They then introduced you to a soldier, one genetically enhanced, to be stronger, smarter, smoother and more skilfull than thw average soldier. A previous army man whose brain had been blended and molded into being a mere killer puppet.
You were to supervise him, make sure everything in his heavily modified and messed-with brain was in order. You conducted psychological tests as well as neurological ones.
You were handed his file before you got to meet him, so you could study him. All of his information was there, the information of James Buchanan Barnes.
Tears brimmed your eyes when you met the soldier. He was a person, with a life. With hopes, dreams, loved ones... And Hydra turned him into a monster.
"The tests work best if I am alone with him. Other presences may disturb him and alter the results." You told the other Hydra agents.
It wasn't a complete lie, but you just wanted to be alone with him so you could treat him like a human.
" But he could-"
"I will call if you're needed." You said, interrupting him by raising your finger "You have not-so-gracefully brought me here because I am good. I should know what's best."
All of the men overseeing the Winter Soldier prohect exited the room, while muttering some not-so-nice Russian words under their breaths.
You pushed a chair to sit close to the Winter Soldier (but not too close, since you were still wary).
"Hello, James."
All of the men called him "Soldier", but it seemed inhumane, like a tool to be used, so you just used his first name. You knew it might trigger memories, but you refused to keep up the bad treatment.
This made the soldier look at you through his eyebrows, acknowledging your presence, but not replying.
"I'm here to asses you. Is that okay?"
You were to make sure he didn't remember anything from his past life and that he remained in the borderline-psychotic state he was in constantly, and that was already monsteous enough, so you made sure it was as easygoing as possible.
"Sargeant Barnes I don't want to treat you like those men, I don't want to hurt you."
His eyes softened the least bit, but as you expected his walls were up, strong and solid, and once more he did nor reply.
It would be months of hard work before he trusted your words, before he revealed that there was a bit of James Barnes underneath the soldier.
"Why... Why do you do this?"
You looked up from your notebook.
"Do what, James?"
"That. Give me hope."
Your heart raced a little at those words.
"What do you mean, give you hope?"
"It was easier killing people when I thought they were all cruel..."
There was silence in the room. You knew he didn't mean to say that your encounters were unpleasant, but that they were so pleasant, there was such peace when you were with him, that it was harder to complete his job.
"Do you want me to change my behaviour?" You still had to ask, just in case.
He did not look at you when he shook his head negatively.
"I like you. You're a good one. But I don't want to remember anything."
You furrowed your eyebrows in confusion and put down your materials for a second.
"Why's that, James?"
Fortunately, the fact that he was never called "James" (it had always been "Bucky" or "Sargeant Barnes") worked in his favour, as he did not have recurring memories from his past when you called him that.
"If I am here... it was because I was a bad person. No good person ends up in this place. I am here, I must deserve it."
"Do you think I'm a bad person?" This question was genuine curiosity. You wondered, after hearing his logic, if he thought you were evil too.
The man looked at you as if you were stupid. His eyes said "how could it ever come across your mind that I think there's a trace of evil in you". But, due to his conditioned mind, all he said was a cold, harsh "no".
"Then you trust me?"
A nod was all you got in response. If you got a couple sentences out of him per session, you'd be in luck.
"I will respect that you don't want to remember, but I can tell you, I saw who you were. You were not a bad person, you were a great one."
He finally made eye contact with you, and you could almost feel emotion in him.
The soldier's eyes wandered away from yours once more, focusing on the ground.
"I will end up here." He mumbled.
"Sorry James, what was that?"
"I will end up here. No matter what I do, they find me. I know I have remembered before, they left that in my mind. They left that I escaped, they brought me back and put me back in the machine." His voice was more somber as he told his story "I don't want to remember because if I do I won't want to stay, but I will just end up here again and be tortured again. I will just save myself the pain."
That was the most he had ever said to you, and it brought tears to your eyes. It wasn't human, what they did to him, no. It was pure torture on a man that, on the pictures you saw, looked like a hopeful young man, the life of the party, the one that would make friends with any and everyone.
You placed your hand on top of his.
"I'm sorry, James."
This action caused the soldier to widen his eyes and look at you in shock.
It was the first friendly touch he had felt since forever. It was the first human contact he had that wasn't a punch, a slap, or something equally as painful.
That interaction almost made him lose composure, but he remained stiff and serious until you awkwardly removed your hand.
You were slowly bringing out the human in him, but sometimes you wondered if that was the correct choice. You didn't want him to get hurt again. The last time they used the machine you could hear his screams no matter how far your room was or how you tried to cover your ears with the pillow, the Soldier's pained and desperate screams still reached your ears.
After that particular day, Bucky realized how much he enjoyed your touch. It seemed that the spot you had touched him burned every day you were apart. Your sessions were twice a week, three times maximum, but it was the only thing Bucky looked forward to.
"Hello, James."
His gaze remained locked with the floor. You thought you had made no progress whatsoever in your mission to make him accostumed with behaving like a human, however that wasn't true. Bucky was just afraid that if he did look at you he wouldn't be able to contain his excitement.
His brain was in constant disarray - the conflict between wanting to smile and have a conversation with you and the fear of disobeying orders and being punished were constant.
You sighed and sat next to him. You did the usual job of first checking to see if Hydra hadn't permanently fucked his head, and then you moved to the part where you'd check if he still was the emotionless psychopath Hydra had turned him into. Except you bent the last task to your will.
"I don't want to treat you like the rest of them. I won't. No matter what they made you believe, you're a person still. And I want to make your situation a little better but you have to pretend, no matter how much your condition improves, that you're still the same Soldier. I don't want you to go back into the machine because of me." You had explained, in one of your earliest appointments.
"I read the mission report. What are you feeling?"
"Accomplished."
His response was short, and dry, delivered in a voice devoid of all feeling.
"Are you saying that just because you accomplished the mission?"
Silence. His silence was, most of the time, an admission. You nodded and sighed.
You stood up and walked closer to him, placing your hand on his shoulder. There it was. Bucky didn't even care about the rush of emotions flowing through him, he just focused on your touch, how warm it felt, how homely it felt.
"Now, how did it really make you feel."
There was a short silence again, as he thought.
"Confused. I don't think I like to see people suffer, I don't like their screams, but I must do it, or else I suffer." His eyebrows furrowed as he said that, as if he was trying to connect the pieces in his head.
You began saying something about how he wasn't bad, but all that was just background noise. All he could focus on was how your hand travelled down his arm and rested on his hand as you crouched in front of him.
"James? Did you listen?"
Only then did you realize how intensely he was looking at you. His icy blue eyes stared into your soul, and you noticed how beautiful the man was when there were slight traces of emotion on his face. The strands of his jaw-lenght dark hair shaped his face beautifully, and you couldn't help but look at his parted lips.
You felt your face growing hot and immediately stood up, turning your back to him and pretending you were doing something else as you tried to regain your composure.
Before long, Hydra officials came through the door to take the Soldier, You'd never get too long in his presence, just enough time to do your job.
This time you wouldn't see him again in two days, and so you walked back to your "room" (if it could even be called that) thinking about his eyes, the way he looked at you, and the way you wanted to brush back his hair and take a good, long look at his face.
It was late, very late, when you woke up with a cold breeze in your room. You stood up, to close the window, only to realize that it was closed. It was only when you looked towards the door that you saw a tall, large, dark figure standing under the frame. Before you could scream, he paced forward and placed a hand over your mouth.
You could then see who it was. The moon light coming through from the window's glass lit up those blue eyes you had come to be so familiar with, and the mask you dreaded.
Once your breathing calmed down and the Soldier was sure you knew who it was, he allowed you to remove his hand from your mouth.
You then reached around his neck and undid his mask, slowly removing it.
"Why are you here?" You asked, your voice above a whisper.
The mask fell to the ground but Bucky's eyes never left yours.
"I won't hurt you."
It stung you that he thought you'd ever think he was capable of hurting you, but that was how he was conditioned to think.
"I know..."
Those words sent a wave of relief over Bucky, and he wasn't sure how to describe the feelings inside of him if he had to.
"I came back from a mission and I should head back but... I can't. I needed to see you."
Your mind immediately went into work mode and you looked at him with a very serious face.
"Are you feeling alright? Did something trigger you in the mission?" You asked, sitting down on your bed and pulling him down so he could be comfortable.
"No, miss Y/N, I needed to see you." As he said this, Bucky slid a hand up your thigh, stopping dangerously close to your core.
Only then did you realise that you were sitting next to a very big man wearing nothing but the sheer and short nightgown you used, as it would get very hot in your particular side of the building due to all the machinery working.
Your legs spread slightly, and you didn't miss the ever so sublte smirk tugging at the corner of Soldier's lips. The man watched your reactions carefully, and took that as a green card to proceed. His face got closer to yours, and he teased your lips, brushing his own against yours, before moving to your neck and kissing the spot right below your ear.
"James..." His name escaped past your lips.
It wasn't voluntary, because you didn't know if you wanted him to stop or continue. Morally it was wrong, he was your patient (technically), but it felt so right, so good...
"Hm? Want me to stop?" He asked, as his hand made its way closer to your core and his lips bit down on your neck.
Fuck it. If you were stuck here you might as well enjoy it, there was nothing morally right around you, why would you be the exception.
"No." You said, with the upmost certainty.
"Good."
With his metalic arm, the man separated your legs far enough so he could have access to your vagina, and with the other he cupped your face and brought your lips to his.
His fingers went inside your panties and rubbed between your folds before teasing at the entrance. You couldn't help but moan into the kiss as one experimental finger went inside of you.
There had obviously been a considerable ammount of time since you had been sexaully active, so you were very sensitive, and the Soldier could tell.
You weren't sure on what to focus: the way his lips completely dominated yours, or the way his fingers fucked you.
Soon after he added a second finger and switched between curling and uncurling them as he fucked you. His thumb found your clit and he rubbed it, adding to your pleasure.
You didn't hide how good he made you feel, incessantly moaning into the kiss and calling his name.
The man pulled away for a second, kissed your cheek and then your neck.
"I love the way you sound." He whispered.
"Then... Then fuck me, I promise I will sound so much better." You said, almost breathless.
Bucky shoved the fingers that were in you inside of your mouth so you could lick them clean, and then wrapped the same hand around your neck.
"That's all I needed, doll." He whispered.
Bucky unzipped his tight pants and pulled his cock out. You admired his size before he wrapped an arm around you and pulled you onto his lap. The soldier lifted you up pulled your panties to the side and, once his tip found your entrance, slowly lowered you on his cock.
You gripped his arms and let out a long, strained moan, until he was fully inside you. He then started moving you on his cock, thrusting slightly when pulling you down.
He skillfully and smoothly removed your little sleeping gown and kept on fucking you.
"Shit." He cursed, as he watched your ass bounce on his cock.
You realised how much you loved to hear him curse, how much you loved to hear his voice in your ear.
Slowly, the soldier picked up the pace when he felt you were comfortable. He then wrapped one arm around your body to keep the movements steady, and wrapped the metal hand around your throat.
You would've guessed the man that barely spoke would've been a quiet one, but oh were you wrong. The grunts and moans in your ear brought you closer and closer to your climax, along with the way his metal arm applied a slight but noticeable pressure in your neck.
"James I'm gonna... I'm gonna cum."
With these words, Bucky flipped you two, wanting to see the pleasure in your face when you came. You laid on your back as Bucky kept fucking you with his hand on your neck, switching between the way your tits bounced and the way your face looked as you were about to reach your climax.
It wasn't long before your hands gripped the thin sheets and your back arched. With a cry for his name, you came. Soon after hearing you call for him, Bucky buried himself deep inside of you and came.
The way he looked at you had you in a trance.
He bent down, grabbed your face and kissed you, before looking down and caressing your stomach.
"You're mine. Mine. All mine."
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dungeonpuppykai · 12 days
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Back To Black (Teaser)
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Description: When the Winter soldier experiments go wrong on your fiance Crown Prince James Barnes and he ends up crippled and unstable, you call the engagement off and your family proposes that the alliance can still be on if his family pairs you up with his twin brother Nick instead. All seems to be fine and dandy until James breaks out of the lab one night and comes straight for you, razing everyone who stands in his way.
Pairing: Dark!Winter Soldier James Bucky Barnes | Morally Gray Princess!You. 
Disclaimer: I do not own James Bucky Barnes or The Winter Soldier (sadly). This story will contain dark and mature content. Minors do not interact.  
Warnings: Dubcon, morally gray!reader, opportunistic reader, smut with plot, dark!Bucky, Nick is a dick, angst, winter soldier, exhibitionism, choking, hair pulling, slapping, humiliation, degradation, dumbification, manhandling, unprotected p-in-v, missionary and doggy style, breeding kink, creampie, fear kink, power imbalance, Bucky's metal arm (?), pet names (rosey, baby), Daddy kink, sir kink, collar and leash.
Status: Complete.
Note: Click on the status to be redirected to it <3
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