#dark!priest!bucky

[daliaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa]

He told me "kneel". Maybe I misunderstood what he wanted.

#sebastian stan #bucky barnes #sebastian stan fanfiction #winter soldier #nick fowler #dark priest #hot priest

[dmysterioblog]

Masterlist

WARNING! Most of the following contain SMUT and/or have a DARK theme!

Disclaimer! These Fanfics aren't mine! They're just some of my favorites. Check at the bottom to see when it was last updated. I've made a second masterlist which I'll be updating once in a while.

Masterlist II

Dark-♤ Angst-♧ Fluff-♡ Smut-♢

Shoulder to Cry On

Paring; Agatha Harkness x reader

Summary: you have a rough break up and Agatha invites you over to make you feel better.

Rated- ♧♡

Witch hunter

Paring; Agatha Harkness x witchhunter!reader

Summary: as a friend of Blade, whilst he hunts monsters, you focus on ending the witches of old that have come to ruin the future. Agatha Harkness happens to be one of them, but she isn’t running into your trap, it’s the other way around.

Rated-♤♢♧

Say You Want Me

Parings; Agatha harkness x reader

Summery: your neighbor agatha's seen you looking at her, and she gets the wrong idea-- or, well... sort of.

Rated-♢

Closer

Parings; Salem!Agatha Harkness x Reader

Summary: you and Agatha are forced to share a bed while out for the coven.

Rated- ♡

Working Together For Her

Paring; Agatha x reader x Wanda

Summary: Y/N escapes to Westview, on the run, and Wanda and Agatha pause their fight to work together and help her.

Rated- ♧♡

Make Me Feel Special

Pairing: Milf!Agatha Harkness x fem!reader

Summary: You are angry at your best friend for turning down the opportunity for something that you would give your life for: a mother.

Rated- ♤♢

Jealousy

Paring; Jealous!Agatha x reader

Summary: you have been getting too close with Wanda and Agatha doesn't like that.

Rated- ♤♢

Taste Of A Poison Paradise

Pairing; Agatha Harkness x Fem!Reader

Summary: It’s your wedding day, and you’re freaking out with the stress and anxiety of it all. Fortunately, your future mother-in-law is there to help.

Rated- ♤♢

Love Thy Neighbour

Paring; Agatha Harkness x reader

Summary: Wanda’s spell did quite a number on Agatha. She forgot who she was. Her powers gone. But ever since she met you, she's been her memories and powers come back.

Rated- ♤♢

Oh Red String of Fate

Pairing: Agatha Harkness x Fem!Reader

Summary: you're Agatha's soul mate.

Rated- ♡

Broken Doll

Paring; Bucky x reader x Steve

Summary: Steve and Bucky have to now live with the consequences after they have broken you.

Rated- ♧

July

Paring; Cate Blanchett x reader

summary; you’ve been in australia on vacation and made a new friend, maybe more than just a friend. When your time comes to an end you reminisce the last weeks and doubt your feelings.

Rated- ♡♧

Right here right now

Paring; Carol Aird x reader

Summary: What if Carol went away by herself over Christmas and met you instead? One morning your eyes lock across the room at a motel and you spend the day together, getting to a women's bar where things heat up and you end up getting a hotel room together.

Rated- ♡♢

The Animal I Become

Pairing: Damian Priest x Fem Reader

Summary: Being the eldest daughter of Rey Mysterio, it surprises most that she’s nothing like her family. After her father and family ban her from wrestling due to her violence, she is officially the black sheep, but breaks that rule, coming back to help during an attack from the Judgement Day, only to be scolded by her father for the madness she started, then running into someone who knows her like no one else…

Rated-♧♢

Animal Unleashed

Pairing: Damian Priest x Fem Reader

Summary: After having a meeting with Judgement Day, making official plans to join and also ending the issues the reader created with Rhea Ripley after attacking her, they find the perfect way to show that the Reader is now apart of Judgement Day, joining in on the attack on her family, letting the world know she’s walking her own path away from her Mysterio family, unleashing the animal she knows she is…

Rated-♢♢♢

Tag Team

Pairing: Damian Priest x Fem Reader x Rhea Ripley

Summary: Rhea and Damian take turns having their way with Y/n. 

Rated-♢♢♢

I Can Keep A Secret, Can You?

Paring; Eve Fletcher x Camgirl!Reader

Summary: The camgirl that helps Eve edge into oblivion every night changes her life in more ways than one.

Rated-♢

Miss Deavor

Paring; Evelyn Deavor x reader

Summary: Not everyone needs a screen to be under Evelyn Deavor's wiles. As her brother's assistant, you can attest to that.

Rated- ♢

To Attend the Cruise

Paring; Evelyn Deavor x reader

Summary: You're desperate for a reporting gig at the Everjust cruise. Perhaps Evelyn Deavor can arrange something?

Rated- ♢

Energy Source

Paring; Hela x reader

Summary: Hela has you locked up in a dark dungeon cell to use you as an energy source. But she's nice to you.

Rated- ♤♡

Pleasing your Queen

Paring; Hela x reader

Summary: You're a palace maid who's been summoned by your newly crowned Queen. You have no idea what to expect, but the events that play out will surprise you more than you could have imagined.

Rated- ♢

El Amor Duele

Paring; Jake Lockley x Fem!Reader

Summary: Marc and Steven suspect there is another alter looming about as you begin to notice small mannerisms/movements that don't belong to either of them. You try and lure the new guy out.

Rated-♢♧

Through the Looking Glass

Pairings; Jake Lockley x fem!reader, Steve Grant x fem!reader, Marc Spector x fem!reader

Summary: “I knew who I was this morning, but I’ve changed a few times since then.” —Alice’s Adventures in Wonderland

Rated-♤♢♧

Love Is A Hard Thing

Paring; Lady Tremaine x reader

Summary: You are one of the staff workers of the household belonging to Lady Tremaine. Let’s just say you caught her eye.

Rated- ♧♡

So Pure, So Dirty and Raw

Pairings; Lilith Ritter x fem!reader

Summary: Lilith is your boss, and she's been waiting to make you hers.

Rated-♤

Nightmarish

Parings; Lilith Ritter x fem!reader

Summary: You have an appointment with your psychiatrist. 

Rated-♢

You're My Property

Parings; Lilith Ritter x fem!reader

summary: You just want her attention. She is your boss, you're her secretary.

Rated- ♢

Special Friend

Parings; CG!Loki x little!reader

Summary: loki wants to scare everyone he comes across today, however you rather enjoy him in his reptile form.

Rated-♡

Don't listen to them

Paring; Loki x little!reader

Summary: Loki is in the glass cell and reader is with Thor in a room with the avengers talking bad about Loki. Reader is upset and goes looking for Loki.

Rated- ♡

Good Girl, Bad Grades

Paring; Professor!Loki x reader

Summary: Your grades in Professor Laufeyson's class have been slipping recently. You are distracted - because of him. Professor Laufeyson invites you to his office to discuss your grades and it seems that despite his disappointment in you, he may have a way to help you improve them.

Rated- ♢♡

Workout

Paring; Rhea Ripley x Fem!Reader

Summary: You needy for Rhea, so she gives you what you want in the gym bathroom.

Rated-♢

A Hard Fuck

Paring; Rhea Ripley x Fem!Reader

Summary: You call Rhea a bitch during an argument and she doesn't take it lightly.

Rated-♢

Jealousy Jealousy

Paring; Rhea Ripley x fem!reader

Summary: You get jealous of Rhea and Liv but Rhea shows you she belongs to you.

Rated-♢♢♢

Tease Me, Please Me

Paring; Rhea Ripley x fem!reader

Summary: "I want you to ride my thigh until you're a whimpering fucking mess, and if you come, then I'll punish you for it."

Rated-♢♢♢

The Aftermath: Our Pretty Princess

Parings; DarkQueen!Wanda x Fem!Reader x SoftDarkKing!Valkyrie, Kate Bishop x Fem!Reader (Brief/Established)

Summary: Wanda and Valkyrie think you'll be the perfect fit as their princess, so their take you as theirs.

Rated-♤♢

She’s in Your Mind

Pairing; Wanda Maximoff x Fem!Reader

Summary: Instead of whispering “run” Wanda reads your mind and sees that you are attracted to her. She uses a different method instead of fear, to make you submit to her, and it definitely does not involve running.

Rated- ♤♢

20th Birthday

Paring; LegalGuardian!WandaMaximoff x Fem!Reader

Summary: After your father's 'sudden' death you are being placed under the custody of his neighbor and close family friend, Wanda. She has been waiting for this moment since she laid eyes on you many years ago swearing in that you will be completely hers. Mind and body. And you being her innocent dumb little baby, that will be just a matter of time.

Rated-♢♡

Stephen Doesn’t Have to Know

Pairing: Wanda Maximoff x Fem!Reader

Summary: Wanda had captured you in her palace when she took you from Stephen, she planned to make you hers to get back at him but she found herself taking a liking to you.

Rated- ♢♡

Training

Pairing: Wanda Maximoff x Fem!Reader

Summary: When misbehaving in public after your owner told you to obey, you are punished for your trouble.

Rated- ♤♢

After School Special

Paring; Professor!Wanda Maximoff x Reader

Summary: In the midst of your exhaustion you fail to see the flirtatious manner in which a classmate speaks to you, but alas Wanda has to prove who your real owner is.

Rated- ♡♢

First Times Aren't Shameful

Paring; Wanda Maximoff x Reader

Summary: Your first time with mommy Wanda is filled with lots of soft praises and big feelings.

Rated- ♢

Her World

Paring; Dark!Mommy!Wanda x little!reader

Summary: After Wanda lost Pietro and then Vision she can't risk to lose you as well. So, she took you with her to Westview and live her perfect life with you as her little angel, like she always wanted.

Rated- ♤♡

Only Mommy Can See You Like This

Paring; Mommy!Wanda x reader

Summary: Professor Wanda gets jealous of you while teaching class and decides to make you stay after to remind you who you belong to.

Rated- ♢♡

Last updated 02/18/23

#fic rec #tony stark x reader #lady tremaine x reader #evelyn deavor x reader #agatha harkness x reader #lilith ritter x reader #loki x reader #valkyrie x reader #kathryn hahn x reader #bucky x you #lou miller #jake lockley x fem!reader #hela x reader #hela odinsdottir x reader #dark!marvel #rhea ripley x reader #damian priest x reader

[boxofbonesfic]

Title: Monster

Kinktober Masterlist

Pairing: Orc!Bucky x Sacrifice!Reader

Kink: Teratophilia (Monsterfucking)

Summary: You draw the devil’s coin in the village lottery, you will buy another season of peace for your people—but you don’t want peace.

Warnings: 18+ Only, Dark Fantasy, Monsterfucking, References to past violence, References to past murder, Witch Burning, Forced Marriage, Dubious Consent, Violence, Revenge, Dead Dove: Do Not Eat, Darkfic, Dark Fanfiction

A/N: as a note, this story does NOT share a universe with my other Orc story, Brave. this is another version of Orc!Bucky that i cooked up for kinktober. speaking of which, i hope you all enjoy the first installment of my 2023 kinktober ficlets and drabbles! mind the warnings, and enjoy!

Your wedding day dawns bleak and cold. The snows have come early this year, snuffing out the brief, brittle green of summer with icy finality, blanketing the hills in thick layers of white.

Your death day.

“Up with you.” You aren’t asleep, but Thera rips the blanket from you anyway. “Come. It’s time you prepare for your... husband.” There is no pity anywhere on her wrinkled face as she grimaces at you, her eyes dark with disgust. “Witch.” She mutters the last part like a curse you aren’t meant to hear. You do, though, and you bare  your teeth at Thera like an animal in response. You are satisfied when fear settles over her features, her rheumy eyes widening. 

“If I were a witch,” you hiss, “You would not stand whole before me, Thera Truthspeaker.” This time it is her name that burns in the ear like acid. “You would lay at my feet in pieces.”

She slaps you for the threat, and you taste blood in your mouth as your head jerks painfully. Thera grasps your chin, and you turn dazed eyes toward the old priestess.

“You speak with as foul a tongue as your mother,” she spits.

“Pity you couldn’t burn mine out of me like you did her.” At this, she looks regretful, cutting her eyes at you angrily.

“Lucky for you Demon King likes his brides whole.” She squeezes until you grunt with pain. “And unspoiled.” She tosses your head to the side before standing away from your cot before brushing her hands down her long, thick robes as though wiping your taint from them. “Save your venom, little snake. It is by my grace you were not put to the torch two seasons ago with your witch mother.”

You almost wish they had, instead of forcing the scarred coin into your hand. At least you can serve the light like this, the priest had said, his grim face illuminated by the firelight. You have not forgotten the way your mother’s body burned bright, her head turned heavenward, her mouth open in silent scream as the flames leapt from her blackened lips.

At least you can serve some good when he comes.

Despite her age, Thera’s grip is strong as she forces you up out of the narrow cot. The stone floor of the chapel is like ice on your bare feet as you stumble after her. There is an old metal basin in the chapel’s meager kitchen, and Thera instructs you to strip before ushering you into the steaming water. You hiss at the burn, but it’s the warmest you’ve been in weeks. Months, more-like. She scrubs your skin raw with rough fingers, and tears through your hair with the comb until your scalp stings. When you wince, Thera cracks her open palm against the back of your skull.

“Be still!” Your ears ring from the force of her blow. “This is an honor—a great privilege you have been afforded, though you are tainted and unworthy.” 

The laugh that bubbles from your chest is bitter. “This is not your pulpit, Truthspeaker, and I am not your sheep.” 

Thera paints the symbols for fertility and prosperity on your damp shoulders in perfumed oil before rubbing them into your skin. She combs the oil through your hair, too, braiding gold thread into it as she pins it up away from your face. As she is closing the bridal robe around your shoulders, the door flies open.

The priest practically falls through it, his face shining with sweat despite the temperature. The charcoal around his wide, fear-bright eyes runs dark on his pale skin, like dark tears tracking down his gaunt cheeks. His terror is catching, your own heart pounding against your ribs. 

“He comes! The Demon King comes! He rides for the village!” Thera glances at you, her thin lips curving into a cruel smile. 

“And his bride waits.”

—

You have seen a bride taken, once. You were young, six seasons, perhaps? Seven? You saw the Demon King ride away with her, her long, black veil whipping behind her in the icy wind.

Mother had told you not to go, not to watch—It’s barbaric, my love, we needn’t take part—but you couldn’t help yourself. She is lucky, she is blessed, the townspeople murmured amongst themselves as they watched her go. Chosen. She’d drawn the coin from the bag, the same pitted, pocked metal that the priest had forced into your trembling hands as you’d watched your mother burn.

Life for life.

The rope bites into your wrists as you tug uselessly at your bindings. Your breath leaves your lips in frantic clouds of white as you pull and pull. Your only victory is the creak of the rope as it tightens. Your teeth chatter as you stare into the fog. It rolls out between the trunks of the bare trees like tendrils, creeping along the snow-covered ground until it fills the air, obscuring light and sound until all around you is dim as twilight.

“Your bride awaits you,” the priest’s muffled voice trembles. “Take her and honor our agreement, as it has been, and as it shall be.”

For a long time there is no answer from the thick, swirling fog. You count each second, your aching arms stretched above you, the rough wood of the post digging into your back through your cloak. The cold eats away at your bones as you shiver. It’s not snowing any more, but the loose drift blows up into your face as the wind rips at you. The priest’s voice trembles as he begins again.

“Take her and honor our—”

“Silence.”

 The voice vibrates powerfully in your very marrow, in your head and all around. He is near. You can barely see a foot in front of you, and now you are glad for it, glad you cannot see the face of your death. The mist swells, roiling angrily around you as your skin prickles with his closeness. You know not what the Dark King looks like, but you know what you have heard murmured in the dark corners of ale-soaked taverns and in the pews of every chapel of the Holy Light—he is darkness, he is devil made flesh and set upon the children of light so that they might know fear. 

That the price of flesh paid by your people is all that keeps him from loosing his terrible fury upon the valley—

But you do not yet know you believe.

You are afraid, that much you can tell from the thundering of your heart and the staccato sound of your own breath. You cannot see him, but you know he circles you, like a wolf, just behind the curtain of smoke and mist. The silence is deafening, and for a moment you wonder grimly what the Truthspeakers will do with you if the Devil himself does not take you—

“I accept this offering.”

 He steps sideways out of nowhere, the air simply parting like a curtain to reveal him. The Orc regards you silently, watching your breath cloud the air and disappear. He reaches for you and you flinch, but he doesn’t touch you. Instead, he pulls at the ropes. The priest knotted them tightly around the post, but when the Orc pulls lightly, it comes away easily, as if undone by his touch. 

His face is more human than you expected, fierce blue eyes set above chiseled cheekbones. His tusks poke out from beneath his bottom lip, but only barely, more evident as he grimaces. You wonder if he is displeased with you, as he looks you over, and you flinch when he reaches out with one massive, gloved hand. He grasps your chin firmly, turning your head this way and that before sighing. 

“Come.” 

 This time, his voice does not echo through the clearing as if spoken by a dozen men. He reaches for you again, this time drawing the dark veil down over your face. His horse is as large and dark as he is, and the great beast paws the ground as you near, and you see your own fearful face reflected in its strange red eyes. He chuckles at your reluctance.

“Afraid, little bride?”

You are. Truly afraid. Of him. Of the village. Of the way forward, wherever it led. But you would not be like Thera, like the cowering priests in their chapel. Your fear would not rule you. 

You grasp the reins and fit a foot into the stirrup. 

“I am afraid.” Swinging your leg up, you climb into the saddle. “And I am more than fear.” He smiles, the sharp, white points of his teeth gleaming as his lips part.

“Good.” He steps up behind you, and your face flushes with heat as he fits you against his front. 

“What are you called?” He hesitates, and you wonder whether or not he will tell you the truth.

“James.”

—

The sun is low in the sky by the time you see the encampment, nestled in the dark, snowy hills like a glowing ember. You tense as you see it, going rigid in the saddle.

“I did not know you came to collect your bride price with an army.” You reply, and behind you James chuckles. 

“How else would I make sure it was paid?” 

You feel small and alone as you ride into camp, your veil still pulled low over your eyes. The sounds of music and conversation die as the king approaches, the garrison watching with curious apprehension. The pack parts for you, people stepping away from James’ horse with a respectful bow. He is King here, of that there could be no doubt. A great fire blazes at the heart off the encampment, and James rides close enough to feel its heat before dismounting. He holds out his hand to you with a thin smile. 

“Come, little wife. Lay aside your fear and let us know your fate.” You return his grim smile with one of your own. 

I suppose I always knew it would end in fire.

You take his hand, and James helps you down. For a moment, there is no sound other than the roar of the flames and the shrill whistle of the icy wind. 

“She is small.” The voice is heavy with age, and rife with irritation. “It will not be her.” You turn to see the stooped Orc step out from the crowd of onlookers. She leans heavily on the staff she carries, the top adorned with an assortment of feathers and tiny, white bones. James does not look away from you. 

“The fire will tell.” 

He pushes your bridal robe from your shoulders, undoing the tie around your waist. The cloth falls to the ground, leaving you naked. You are not cold, though, not this close to the fire. The veil he leaves on, and the fabric whispers against your bare ankles. The old Orc hobbles closer, peering at you with her one good eye. 

“You know what to do.” 

You do—you step into the fire. It burns—burns hotter than anything you have ever known—

But there is no pain. You open your eyes. All around you is light, beautiful, glorious light. You lift an arm, and flames dance along your skin, leaving trails of radiant heat. You raise your arms above your head with a shout. They should have burnt me in the village. You imagine the streets burning bright with your flames. 

Something is changed in you, something opened, something broken free, something you’d never even known was caged inside you. You are the fire, it is you—

The old Orc slams the staff against the ground with a sound like thunder,  and the flames cool to embers as you drop your arms, panting. You are giddy with power, your heart beating in your chest as fiercely as the flames. 

“Fire-sign.” She draws symbols on your face in red ichor, and matching ones on James. Her scarred mouth twists into a smile as she pulls the veil from you. “Burn brightly.”  

James gathers you in his arms, lifting you with ease. He makes for one of the tents, pushing aside the heavy canvas hanging over the opening. James spills you unceremoniously onto the furs by the small fire, ripping at his clothes as he sets upon you with his hungry hands and mouth.

“Knew it would be you,” he mumbles as he lowers his mouth to yours. “Could smell the smoke on your skin.” 

Gods you burn as he kisses you. You are no longer standing in the fire but you feel it in your veins still, like it’s part of you. Your head swims as though you’d drunk your share of mead, James’ touch only adding to the dizzying rush of sensation. He kneels down between your legs, his eyes dark as he drags them down your writhing body. He licks his lips.

“My fire-sign.” He cups your cunt with one massive hand, trailing a thick finger along your slit. From the bits of hushed gossip you’d overheard from the older women in the village, wifely duties were to be penitently endured, you were to feel pain and discomfort, not this, this—

Fire.

James parts your thighs until they are wide enough to accommodate him, and he bends low. The whites of his eyes barely visible as he stares at your slick center. 

“What better wedding gift?” He says lowly, tugging your hips roughly forward until you can feel his breath on your cunt. 

You lick your lips. “And what is mine?” You ask, and James laughs. You keen as he licks a long, hot stripe up your soaked slit. 

“What would you ask of me?”

“Burn the village.” There are two voices coming from your throat when you speak. There is you, the you you know, the you you have always been—

And there is the fire. 

The thing of smoke and passion and rage in your skin now, too. 

“Leave nothing standing.”

James lowers his head to your sticky core, and wraps his arms around your thighs anchoring you to his face as he feasts. His tongue slides hungrily through your slick folds, and your eyes fly open a your hips roll of their own accord. You come apart then, shuddering and whining, but he doesn’t stop. Your hands tangle in his dark hair, pulling at his ceremonial braids as he tastes you till you’re dizzy. James finally relinquishes his hold, and when he rises his chin is wet with your pleasure. 

“You wish me to wage war, little wife?” He asks, reaching between your bodies to palm his cock. You can’t look away. “To spend fire and blood for you?”

You nod. 

“For that, I will require more than a marriage of convenience,” he replies, and you shiver as he taps the head of his cock against you with a slick, sticky noise. You whimper as he circles one of your nipples with his thumb. “I want more than just your body, understand, little bride?” His hand spans half the length of your belly it’s so big, and you stare wide eyed down at his cock. 

“I will have all of you.” James growls down at you. “Not part.” You whine as he pushes against you, the blunt head of his cock pressing inside with a pop.  Your lips fall open, a strangled moan escaping them. James’ claws dig into your hip, and he utters a curse. You’re already so full of him, you don’t know how more can fit, but James works his hips against yours, rutting shamelessly against you until you swear you’re choking on him. 

The ache is so sweet it brings tears to your eyes. 

“Y-yes!” 

He draws out, leaving you almost empty before filling you with a hard thrust. James moans low in his throat, his head falling back. He cups your face with one hand, dragging his thumb across your lips. You rake your fingers over his muscled chest and he grits his teeth, driving into you harder, curling over you as he presses your knees against your chest. 

Your breaths escape you in choked little mewls, your fingers digging into his shoulders as he drowns you in pleasure again, and the fire in your veins swells, consuming you. Behind him, the fire blazes more brightly than ever before, and  James looses a low growl, his cock pulsing inside of you.

“Then you will have war, little queen,” he says, nosing down the side of your jaw. He nips at your throat, hard enough to bruise.

You smile. 

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x female reader #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes fic #bucky x you #bucky x y/n #bucky x reader #bucky x female reader #sebastian stan #sebastian stan fandom #boxofbonesfic #boxofbones #kinktober #kinktober 2023 #kinktober week 1

[violentdelightsandviolentends]

Honey Girl. Chapter Three.

Chapter One. Chapter Two. Chapter Four. Chapter Five. Chapter Six. Chapter Seven. Chapter Eight. Series Masterlist. The Playlist.

Chapter Synopsis - You and Bucky get closer. Your choice only gets harder.

Pairing - Dad'sBestFriend!Bucky Barnes x Female Reader - soulmate au.

Word Count - 6.4k

Age Rating - 18+

Warnings - smut. cursing. angst. alcohol consumption.

Author's Note - angels, i can only apologise for the wait!! i've had some stuff going on, and i was on vacation, so this has taken a while. thank you so much for your patience, kindness and support on Honey Girl - it means everything.

as always, reblogs, comments and feedback (even anonymous feedback!!) are immensely appreciated!! your reblogs are the only way to circulate my fics, which keeps me going <3 please, send me your thoughts, predictions, desires!! i will get excited with you!!

Masterlist. Inbox.

The sunlight seeps through the stained glass windows, murmured chatter echoing off the stone walls around you.

You smooth down your dress and adjust your bracelet, smiling at the rare sight of your family and friends all gathered together in one place. Your parents are sat on either side of you, all of you eagerly awaiting the beginning of this exciting occasion.

Man, you love weddings. You always have. So much happiness and joy in one short day, everyone excited about the possibility of eternal love.

You're still sat waiting when you realise, with quiet uncertainty, that you're not sure whose wedding this is. All of your family is here, as well as many of your friends. So why do you feel so confused all of a sudden?

The Priest gestures for all of the guests to stand just as the first notes of the Wedding March begin to reverberate around the room. You turn around, craning your neck to try and get a glimpse of the bride.

You don't know her, but she's... beautiful. Long, dark hair falling in waves over her shoulders, white silk dress hugging her frame perfectly, accentuating every dip and curve. She has kind eyes, warm and brown, and a blinding smile that's infectious and dazzling. Her skin glows in the stained glass sunlight, illuminating her in an ethereal radiance. She has a beauty that belongs on the cover of a magazine, or on the ceilings of the Sistine Chapel.

You eagerly turn back towards the altar to find out who her lucky groom is. He has his back to you, dark suit stretched across his broad shoulders. He turns, and you can't help the gasp that escapes your lips.

It's Bucky.

You're panicking, suddenly. You want to scream, shout, run over to them and object in any way possible. Your Mom grabs your hand tightly from one side, as your Dad does the same on the other.

"Mama, I have to-"

"You can't, sweetheart. It's not fair."

"You made your choice," your Dad says kindly, not an ounce of malice in his voice. "Now you have to let him make his."

White hot tears drip down your cheeks as your chest rises and falls with frantic frustration. This isn't how you wanted things to go. This wasn't supposed to happen.

The lights in the church are suddenly too bright, the wooden pews too hard. There's an incessant knocking noise coming from somewhere in front of you, loud and overwhelming. You swear someone's shouting your name in the distance, among all of the chaos.

"Honey? It's Bucky. Are you okay?"

Why is he asking if you're okay? Of course you're not okay, you're in this living nightmare.

Nightmare.

You're having a nightmare.

You wake with a startled gasp, cheeks wet and warm, sweat dripping down your back. The knocking hasn't stopped, in fact, now it's even louder.

"Sugar? Are you in there? Can you let me in?"

It's Bucky. Bucky's here.

You throw yourself out of bed and race through your apartment, swinging open the door. Bucky is stood on the other side, still in his navy plaid pyjama pants, sweater thrown over himself haphazardly. You look down at yourself and see that you're only wearing an old t shirt, legs bare and feet cold on the wooden floor.

"Are you okay?" he asks gently, stepping forward into your space. "I had this horrible feeling. It was like... like I was panicking. I knew it wasn't me so I figured it must have been you. What's wrong, sweets?"

He snakes his fingers around your wrist and pulls you into him gently, wrapping his arms around you completely. You relax into his embrace, inhaling the warm, cosy scent of him. All the fear leaves your body, and you cling to him tighter, worried that he'll disappear any minute.

"I had a nightmare," you whisper into the soft cotton of his chest.

He pulls back to look at you, large, calloused hands cradling your tear stained cheeks.

"You wanna talk about it?"

You deliberate for a second before shaking your head softly.

"If you change your mind, you know I'll always listen to you. Any time. I mean it."

"I know," you say quietly. "Thank you."

You step away from him and towards the couch, where you curl up with your legs tucked underneath you. Bucky walks over to the kitchen, filling the kettle and placing it on the stove. He makes two mugs of tea, handing one into your outstretched hands carefully. He shuffles to sit next to you, pressed into your side, arm slung around your shoulders. You relax into the broadness of him, the comfort he brings, the safety. The two of you fall asleep intertwined, warm and content, wrapped completely in each other and the blanket of your love.

✵  ✵    ·　 ✵ 　　 *  · ✵

You're both startled awake by a phone ringing. The unwelcome melody is coming from somewhere between where you're nestled together, limbs intertwined and bodies connected.

"It's-fuck- is that mine or yours?" Bucky's mumbling as he scrambles amongst the couch cushions.

"Yours, I think," you reply, finding your phone on the floor where you've kicked it in your sleep.

Bucky finally finds the source of the noise, trapped in the arm of the couch. He presses the green button reluctantly, still disorientated from being woken so suddenly.

"Hello?"

That deep, raspy grumble of his morning voice is enough to make you melt back into your original position, the tone golden and honeyed. You slide back towards him and tuck yourself into his side, the two of you fitting together perfectly.

You can hear muffled talking on the other end, which takes Bucky a minute to comprehend. When he does, his eyes widen, and he looks at you like a deer caught in headlights.

It's your Dad, he mouths silently, muscles in his body going rigid.

Fuck, you mouth back, praying that he can't hear the two sets of heaving lungs on your side of the line.

"Yeah, of course. I'll be there. Sounds good, man. See you then."

Bucky's about to hang up the phone, when your Dad makes a noise of complaint. You can hear your Mom yelling something at him in the background.

"They're coming here," he whispers to you as quietly as possible, covering the phone speaker. "Fuck, what do we do?"

"Tell them you're already here... borrowing something. Or giving something back."

You shoot him a look that says trust me. Trust you, he does.

"I'm with her right now. I can ask, if you want? Yeah, just dropping off a couple of tools - last time I saw her, she mentioned a few loose screws in one of the kitchen cabinets. Easy fix."

You can hear your Dad singing his praises and expressing his gratitude, and your Mom asking Bucky to put you on the phone. He passes it to you carefully, as if it's a bomb, bound to explode at any given second.

"Hi, Mama."

"Hey, sweetheart. Bucky get everything sorted for you?"

"Oh, yeah. He's been great. Fixed it in two minutes flat. I just didn't have the right kind of screwdriver."

"He's one of the good ones, huh?" she chuckles. "We called to tell you that you have to come to our get together later. I know it's a little impromptu, but we have so much produce from the garden, too much for just us. We'll have dinner in the backyard, and drinks, and play some games. And we'll tell you all about the wedding!"

Your Mother has a gift for hosting. She's a people person through and through, warm hearted and kind spirited in nature. She loves having people over at the house, loves cooking for them, loves choosing wine pairings for her dishes and explaining each one carefully. It's a gift. She's a gift.

"I'd love to come, Mama. Do you want me to bring anything? I can make desserts?"

"Oh, darling, would you? I'm making a strawberry and cream tart, but you know it's nothing compared to your talent."

"Oh hush," you chide playfully. "I'll see what I can conjure up. Maybe I'll even rope Bucky in to help."

You wink at him cheekily and he laughs, the sound settling gently in your ribs like a caged bird singing it's morning song.

"Glad to be of service!" he yells into the phone, his right hand moving to rest at the nape of your neck. He massages the muscle there gently, and the tension leaves your body just as quick as it arrived.

"What time, Mama?"

"Everyone's arriving at seven o'clock, but you and Bucky feel free to come any time. Did you hear that, Bucky? Any time!"

"Loud and clear," he chuckles. "See you soon, Lori."

"Bye, you two. Call if you need anything. Love you, sweetheart."

"Love you too."

She hangs up the phone and you're plunged into silence, the two of you panting like you've just ran a marathon.

"Fuck," Bucky breathes.

"Yeah, fuck," you exhale. "Now my parents think I'm not capable of fixing a loose screw."

"It was the first thing I thought of! Sorry, honey. Didn't mean to undermine your DIY skills."

You fake angry, but you can't keep it up while he's looking at you like you hung the moon just for him. The corners of your lips twitch, and before you know it, you're grinning at each other like idiots.

"Now I have to make dessert," you laugh. "There go my plans for the day."

"You offered."

"I panicked!"

"I'll give you a hand, if you need it. I don't have to be at work for another hour and a half."

"It's okay," you reassure, reaching out to link your fingers with his. He's still absentmindedly tracing patterns across the back of your neck, the sensation almost soothing you back to sleep.

You relax into Bucky, and he pulls you into his chest, wrapping his arms around you. He's so warm, and soft, and broad. You realise that there's been two occasions recently where you've slept like the dead. Both were in Bucky's arms.

"You wanna help me make breakfast?" you whisper, careful not to disrupt the golden glow of the morning sunlight. The orange hue of the room feels fragile, sacred even. You don't want to ruin it.

"Of course. I can't bake, but I can cook. I have my uses."

"That, you do," you tease, leaning back into him as he places a tender kiss on top of your head. If you could bottle up this feeling of complete tranquility, you would. For a moment, everything else disappears. It's just you and your soulmate. Nothing else matters.

✵  ✵    ·　 ✵ 　　 *  · ✵

Bucky, as it turns out, is a decent chef.

Sure, he's not Michelin star level, but neither are you.

You're sat on the counter, bare legs dangling over the side as you watch him move around your kitchen with ease, as if it's his own. You can't help but notice the way he belongs here. Like he's been here all along.

Bucky leaves everything cooking on the stove to come to stand in between your legs, warm hands splayed across your thighs. He rubs comforting circles into your skin while his steely blue eyes look at you intently.

"You okay?"

You smile at him softly, draping your arms around his neck to play with his hair.

"I'm fine."

You're not fine. The words California and Bakery and Dream Job and Bucky keep circling around your mind like horses on a fairground carousel. The more time you spend with Bucky, the more your Tethering makes sense. The two of you work. This connection you have is made of threads of gold, braided into both of your souls.

"You've been quiet all morning. And... I can feel it, you know. This anxious, sinking feeling, deep in my chest. There's something really bothering you, honey."

You take a deep breath and grasp onto his shoulders tightly, grounding yourself back down to Earth.

"I'm okay. There's just a couple of things I need to work out, and I think they're giving me some anxiety. I'm just stressed, I think."

"Are you trying to convince yourself, or me? Because you're not doing a very good job of either."

He's only teasing, but the way he's looking at you makes your breath hitch. It's as if everytime he looks into your eyes, he's also looking into your soul. It's like he can read your mind. Your heart is covered in braille and he's running his fingertips over it gently. You suddenly feel very exposed, shrinking down into yourself on the counter.

"Hey, pretty girl. Look at me. Please."

He uses his finger and thumb to tilt your face towards him, holding onto your chin gently.

"I'm sorry. I'm not trying to push you, or anything. I'm just worried. It's weird, being able to feel what you feel. I think I'm still getting used to it."

You smile at him carefully, running your fingers over the stubble on his cheeks.

"I appreciate you looking out for me, Buck. It's just... overwhelming, I guess. Nothing's a secret between me and you anymore."

You both know that's not true.

"You know, if there's anyone who understands how you feel... it's me."

"You're right," you laugh, "on account of the whole half-of-my-soul thing, I guess."

"Exactly. It's scary, but you're not alone in this. The two of us will figure it out. I know we will."

He has so much faith in you it makes you want to cry.

You wrap your legs around his waist, pulling him in closer to you. He leans down and presses a sweet kiss to your lips, firm and reassuring. It's like he's reminding you that he's right here, in front of you. He's not going anywhere.

You might be, though.

"We've got all the time in the world, remember?" he murmurs against your mouth.

"All the time in the world," you echo, tucking your head into his chest.

He holds you close until your breakfast starts to burn. The impending fire on the stove is nothing compared to the impending fire that feels like your future.

✵  ✵    ·　 ✵ 　　 *  · ✵

The two of you eat on your balcony, tangled together on the love seat chair. The sun is beating down, beams of light illuminating Bucky, setting him aglow. He looks like an angel, the golden hue creating a halo around him. You wonder for a second if he is. An angel sent just for you.

"Oh hey, did I tell you?" he asks, turning as much as he can in his spot to face you.

"Tell me what?"

"Leonie and Eli are having a baby."

"No way!" you exclaim, grabbing a hold of his hands in excitement. "I'm so happy for them. Man, it feels like yesterday that they found each other."

"Right? Hell of a story, too."

"Rough one, though. I mean, imagine it. You introduce your brother to your new girlfriend, and turns out they're soulmates."

Bucky's laughing so hard that he's clutching at his stomach, shaking the chair and you along with it.

"That's fucked," he wheezes. "It's so fucked."

You can't contain your own laughter, not when his is so contagious.

"It's not funny," you breathe, but you're giggling so hard your sides hurt.

"Not funny at all," he chuckles, pinching your thigh.

"If you think about it, our Tethering is a little fucked up too. I mean, you're my Dad's best friend."

"Yeah... not ideal, huh?" he teases, still laughing.

"Not ideal at all, really," you agree playfully.

You sit in the quiet for a moment before you speak again.

"What do you think they'll say? When we tell them, eventually?"

Bucky thinks for a moment, cogs turning in his brain. He considers carefully before he answers you.

"...I think they'll be happy for us. Your Mom'll be excited. It might be a little harder for your Dad to navigate, I guess, but... he'll be okay."

"Yeah. You're probably right."

The rational part of your brain is telling you that he is. They'll be ecstatic that the two of you have found your person. The celebrations will be endless.

But there's a tiny, nagging piece of your mind that won't let you rest. It's taunting you, telling you that they're going to be confused, shocked, upset. That they won't accept the two of you. You can't lose them over a soulmate. You won't.

You clear your throat and stand from your spot, picking up your empty plates.

"Don't you have to be at work soon? I doubt you can show up in pajamas."

"I'm the boss, pretty girl. I can wear whatever the hell I want."

You raise an eyebrow at him, and he relents.

"Fine. I need to change. But I'll see you later? At your Mom's?"

"Yeah, of course. I'll see you there."

You walk Bucky to the door, opening it expectantly. He looks at you for a moment too long, still unconvinced by your reassurances from earlier.

"If you need anything, just call me. You know you can talk to me anytime, yeah?"

"Yeah," you confirm, absentmindedly playing with the hem of his t shirt. "I know, Buck. Thanks."

He leans in to kiss your forehead before leaving you in the doorway, more confused than ever.

✵  ✵    ·　 ✵ 　　 *  · ✵

You commit your day to baking your feelings away.

As soon as Bucky left your apartment, the space felt empty, incomplete. Much like you do. As much as you hate to admit it, you feel better when Bucky is around. You know it's the whole Tethering thing, but still. Your heart feels fuller, the world seems brighter, the sun on your skin is warmer. Everything's easier when your soulmate is next to you.

You click on the radio, a soft, jazzy melody filling your kitchen. You begin to measure your ingredients, picking up bowls, utensils and your piping bags as you go.

This is the only thing you've ever felt like you were made to do. Sure, you've had hobbies as you've grown up. You're a good swimmer, you enjoyed soccer, you weren't too bad at dance. But nothing compared to baking.

Which at first, sounded ridiculous. Grown ups would ask you what you wanted to be when you were older, and when you said Baker, they'd laugh in that patronising way that adults do. It didn't stop you, though.

Your Grandma bought you a half empty recipe book for your tenth birthday. You can create your own and add them, she'd said. You'll be publishing a book with your name on in no time.

Your parents took you on a European vacation when you were sixteen. In Amsterdam, you passed this tiny little bakery, tucked away down a back street. It was red brick with a big window in the front, showcasing the cakes and endless sweet treats they had to offer. When you peered through the glass, you watched as the woman who you assumed was the owner went about her day. She looked so happy to be serving her customers. You decided then and there that was going to be you one day. A Bakery of your own. A happy life.

Which is why you're having such a hard time. You haven't talked to Stella since she called you, and you're worried she's going to change her mind if she doesn't hear from you soon. You haven't talked to Bucky about it either, even though he presented you with opportunity after opportunity this morning. It's starting to feel like the walls are caving in.

So, you do what you do best. Bake.

The day passes by quicker than anticipated, lost in a cloud of cinnamon and powdered sugar. You're wiping down your counters when your phone rings, Bucky's name lighting up your screen.

"Hi, Buck."

"Hey, pretty baby. You want me to pick you up later? I'm passing your place anyway."

He's always thinking of you so selflessly. The thought makes your heart stutter for a moment.

"You sure you don't mind?"

"Course not. I can drop by at six? Gives us enough time to help your Mom set up."

"Sounds perfect. Thanks, Buck."

"See you then, honey."

You hang up the phone and realise the hours have completely escaped you. You jump in the shower and do your hair and makeup in record time, miraculously. You're stood in a towel in front of your closet when you feel Bucky pull up outside. The tension in your chest eases a little, and you take a deep, full breath. He knocks on the door, and you completely relax.

"Hey, you," he greets, leaning in to press a kiss to your cheek.

You take a step back to look at him, and almost lose your balance. He looks ridiculously handsome. He's wearing a dark short sleeve button up that hugs his biceps so tightly, you're worried it might burst open. His jeans cling to his thighs deliciously, and the leather jacket slung over his shoulder adds a ruggedness that most men couldn't pull off. Your eyes rake over him slowly, taking him in from top to bottom. He lets you devour him, smirk never leaving his lips. Eventually, you meet his gaze.

"You see something you like?"

"You clean up real nice, Barnes," you tease, wrapping your arms around his neck and pressing a sweet kiss to his lips.

You untangle yourself from him before you jump his bones, and walk back to your closet. He follows you and sits on the edge of your bed, watching your every move like a hawk.

You pick out a sage green sundress that skims your thighs and hugs you in all the right places. It's a warm night, and your Mom loves to start a bonfire when it's cold.

"Close your eyes, playboy," you scold jokingly, laughing when he flops backwards to stare at your ceiling.

You slip the dress on, and realise it has a zipper at the back that you can't reach.

"Buck? Can you zip me up, please?"

He rises from his spot on the bed and strides over to you, standing a little closer than necessary. He pulls the zip upwards ever so slowly, fingertips brushing your spine as he goes. He's so warm and so broad behind you that it sends a shiver through your body.

Bucky brushes your hair to one side and leans down to press a featherlight kiss the place where your neck meets your shoulder. You hum in contentment, which only spurs him on. He begins to leave kisses wherever he pleases - your shoulder, your neck, behind your ear. You practically melt into him, and he wraps his arms around you to keep you steady.

"You look so beautiful," he murmurs against your skin. "Prettiest girl I've ever seen."

You smile at his words, leaning your head back to rest on his shoulder.

"Says the man that looks like a goddamn supermodel."

"Oh, angel. Now you're just lying to me."

His chuckle rumbles through the both of you, the sound lighting up your nerve endings.

Your eyes flick across the room, where you notice the clock on the wall.

"Baby," you whisper. "You gotta stop. We're gonna be late."

He groans lowly and lets his head loll into the crease of your shoulder.

"I was fine until you called me baby," he murmurs. "Now that's all I'm gonna be thinking about for the rest of the night."

"Sorry."

"You're not."

"I'm not."

You both laugh and untangle yourselves, you moving to put on your shoes while Bucky straightens himself out.

"You gonna be able to keep your hands to yourself, lover boy?"

"I'm gonna have to," he grumbles, trying to hide the smile that's fighting to take over his face.

You lean against him as you do up the straps of your shoes, dancing your fingers down his arm to interlink your hands.

"Ready?" you ask, looking up at him with big doe eyes.

"Ready," he confirms, leaning down to kiss you chastely.

"A night of pretending that we're not soulmates. How hard can that be?"

✵  ✵    ·　 ✵ 　　 *  · ✵

Pretending that Bucky isn't your soulmate is one of the hardest things you've ever done.

You haven't even made it inside yet.

Buck parks his truck in your parents driveway and turns to look at you. You've been silent the entire ride over, and it's making him anxious. He reaches over and places a warm palm on your bare thigh, thumb rubbing patterns back and forth.

"You okay?"

You take a deep breath, which is all the answer he needs.

"It's alright, baby. I'm nervous too. We've got this. We're alright."

You look into his eyes for the first time since you were in your apartment, and have to fight to stop yourself from crying. You nod and bite your lip, inhaling and exhaling carefully.

"You're okay. I promise. It's me and you, honey girl. It's me and you."

You want to crawl over into Bucky's lap and bury your face in his chest. You want to curl up in his strong arms and let his scent envelope you. You want to tangle your fingers into his hair and smash his lips to yours, until you don't know where you end and Bucky begins.

Instead, you bring his hand from your thigh to your lips, and kiss each of his knuckles tenderly. The gesture makes his heart beat so fast, he's a little worried he's about to pass out.

"Come and talk to me anytime tonight, okay? I've got you. I've always got you."

You nod again, and take another deep breath.

"I know, Buck. It's the only thing I'm sure of."

✵  ✵    ·　 ✵ 　　 *  · ✵

"My baby!"

Your Mom smothers you in a hug the minute you knock on the door, almost tipping you over in the process.

"Oh, you look so beautiful. This colour is gorgeous on you, sweetheart."

The heaviness of your heart gets a little lighter at the sight of your Mother. She's magic like that.

"Thanks Mama. Is your skirt new? It's pretty."

She gives you a twirl, the skirt billowing around her like a princess. Both you and Bucky smile when you catch each others eyes briefly.

"I got it on our trip! Your Dad got a new shirt too - he looks so handsome."

She's grinning from ear to ear talking about him. Your smile only gets wider.

Bucky gives your Mom a one armed hug, and hands her a white box with a bow on.

"I wish I could say this is from me, but I don't have nearly enough talent for that."

"You're plenty good at other things, Buck," she laughs. "What's in here, sweetheart?"

"Apple, carrot and cinnamon cake with cream cheese frosting. I piped little bunny rabbits on top, too."

Before she can say anything else, you take the box from her hands and walk into the house.

"We better put this in the refrigerator before the frosting melts!" you call as you leave.

"Come on Buck, let's get you a drink. Jack bought your favourite."

✵  ✵    ·　 ✵ 　　 *  · ✵

Your parents backyard looks incredible.

Golden fairylights adorn the deck, illuminating the dining area that your Mom has set up. The table is covered with a white lace tablecloth, and littered with tea lights and candlesticks. Each place setting has a wine and a water glass ready, fringed cushions perched on each wooden chair. There's a beautiful bouquet of flowers in a stained glass vase as the centerpiece, more flowers scattered across the entirety of the table.

The sun hasn't set yet, and the entire garden is dripping with the glowing orange hue of the evening. The air is warm and calm, salty ocean breeze only disrupting the peace occasionally. If summer were to be summed up in a night, it'd be this one.

Your Dad is pouring water into all of the glasses from an ornate painted jug when you walk into the yard.

"Hi, Papa."

"Oh, sweetheart!" he smiles in surprise, abandoning his task to come and give you a hug. "You look amazing. I like your dress."

"Thank you - hey, is this your new shirt? It suits you!"

"It's nice, right? Your Mom picked it out. She said the colour brings out my eyes."

You look him up and down comically, crossing your arms over your chest like a cartoon detective.

"Hmm... she's right. It definitely does."

You're both laughing when your Mom and Bucky join you, the two men immediately smacking each other on the back affectionately.

"Where you been, Buck? Work keeping you busy?"

"Stupidly busy - you wouldn't even believe."

"Well, it's your night off, so no shop talk!" your Mom encourages, handing Bucky a beer.

"Easier said than done," he winks, and your breathing picks up just a little.

"Mama, do you need help with anything in the kitchen?"

"Oh, yes please, sweetheart. Come, let me show you what needs doing."

The two of you leave the men to catch up, walking inside to prep the appetisers.

You're slicing tomatoes carefully when you turn to watch your Mom for a minute. She's chopping up basil, completely engrossed. The evening sun beams in, illuminating her as she stands by the window. You love her so much it makes you unsteady on your feet.

"Hey, Mama? Can I talk to you about something?"

She turns and immediately stops what she's doing, giving her full attention to you.

"Of course you can, baby. Anything at all."

You take a deep breath, and carry on slicing while you talk.

"So, you remember Stella, right?

✵  ✵    ·　 ✵ 　　 *  · ✵

The night goes off without a hitch.

There's good food, gorgeous wine and even better company. Your parents invited many of their friends, meaning twelve of you are sat around the meticulously prepared table. In between courses, there's conversation, laughter and games, everyone letting go of the stress of the week.

You're doing everything you can to avoid looking at Bucky. You're worried that if someone catches the two of you, they'll know everything. You're surprised you haven't confessed already, the weight of the secret too heavy to bear.

Your Mom is cutting your cake on the table when there's a sudden commotion.

"Oh, fuck!"

"Shit! Shit, I'm sorry. Shit."

"Is everyone okay?" your Mom asks, flitting to the other end of the table.

"I'm so fucking clumsy, my God. Dropped my wine straight onto Bucky," Jesse, one of your Dad's oldest friends, explains.

"As long as it doesn't stain my white tablecloth, we're fine," your Mom laughs. "What do you need, Buck?"

"It's only white wine, luckily, so no stain. I'm just wet. I'm gonna go dry off."

"I have a hairdryer?" you offer without thinking.

"Good idea, honey. Go help Bucky upstairs while I get some paper towels."

You rise from your chair and make your way inside, heart racing as Bucky follows you. You rummage around the drawers of your childhood bedroom, certain you used to keep all of your hair tools here somewhere.

"You got it?" a warm, whiskey smooth voice asks from behind you.

"Got it," you reply, standing up with the hairdryer in your hand.

Bucky kicks the door closed behind him, and takes a step into you.

"I can't focus on anything when you're sat there in that dress," he murmurs. "Look like a fuckin' angel, all pretty under the lights."

Heat blooms over your chest, and you pray he doesn't notice. Your breathing quickens, and you step forward too, now chest to chest with him.

"I'm so worried that I'm going to accidentally blurt it out," you confess. "You're the only thing that's on my mind."

Bucky leans down to press his lips to yours, smiling into the kiss. You fist your hands into his shirt and pull him closer, snaking your tongue into his mouth. He tastes like mint and sugar and every kiss for the rest of your life.

He groans when you bite his lip, nipping yours back in retaliation.

"Easy, baby," he warns teasingly. "I can't go back down there black and blue."

You roll your eyes and kiss him harder, practically melting when he grabs at your ass roughly.

"What do you need, pretty girl?" he questions against your mouth. "I'll give you anything."

You're panting against him, vibrating with need.

"Need you to take the edge off," you whisper, hands shaking as you unbutton his wet shirt. "Can't carry on like this. Please, baby. Please."

"We've gotta be quick," he reminds, sneaking his hand under your dress to tease you over your underwear.

You grab at his shoulders for leverage, almost certain your knees aren't going to hold out long enough. Bucky doesn't even take your panties off, just slips his hand down the front. It feels filthier this way.

"Fuck," he groans. "This all for me, honey? You been thinking about this?"

"Yes," you whine. "All I've thought about."

Bucky wastes no time, slipping a finger into you easily. After a minute, he adds another, setting a steady rhythm immediately.

"Shit," you breathe, leaning forward to rest your forehead against his chest. "We're supposed to be taking it slow."

"You want me to go slow?"

"No, fuck," you say immediately. "Don't stop. Please."

He chuckles lowly, clearly enjoying the effect he has on you.

"I won't, baby. Almost there."

It should be embarrassing, how quickly he can take you to the edge, but you don't care. This is what having a soulmate is. They know you better than anyone - inside and out.

"So close," you whisper.

"I know, pretty baby. I can feel it. Stay quiet and come for me. That's it."

You can't hold out when he uses that tone with you. You're thrown over the edge, your climax running through you like molten honey, hot and delicious. Your knees buckle, and Bucky uses a strong arm around your middle to hold you up.

"There we go," he's murmuring. "Atta girl. That's my girl."

You wrap your arms around his waist and breathe him in, finally coming back to your senses.

"My parents are gonna wonder where we are," you realise. "Grab your shirt and the hairdryer. You're gonna have to do it while I recover."

Bucky smiles at you with so much affection, the world stops spinning for a second. This is a moment of bliss. The two of you revel in it.

Bucky dries his shirt while you go back outside, trying to keep suspicion to a minimum.

"Fixed, sweetheart?" your Mom asks, holding out a piece of cake to you. You take it gratefully and sit back down, relaxing into your chair.

"Yeah, it's basically dry. That hairdryer is old, so it's taking a while."

"Well you didn't miss much, other than Jesse telling the Joshua Tree story for the fortieth time this month," your Dad laughs.

"You love that story, asshole!" Jesse yells, just as Bucky re-enters the garden. He throws you a mischievous smile, which you reciprocate with ease.

Everyone is a little more careful with their wine as the night goes on, keeping all the glasses planted firmly on the table.

✵  ✵    ·　 ✵ 　　 *  · ✵

"So then I said, well, if you don't like it, leave!"

You're pretty sure you've heard your Mom's friend Cora tell this story before, but you're all laughing like it's the first time. She has such an animated voice, you're convinced you could listen to her read the phone book.

"Which, I mean, I didn't think he would. Imagine breaking up over a chinchilla! A fucking chinchilla!"

You're laughing so hard your sides hurt. You look over to Bucky, and see that he's grinning like a Cheshire cat. You could get used to this.

"So I watched him pack his shit, box by box. Which took fucking ages, by the way. He was using those big plastic boxes, you know the black ones? And he was filling them so carefully and so slowly, that I started helping him!"

You wipe a tear from your face, still doubled over in amusement. You're gonna be sore tomorrow, the way your abs hurt now.

"But I didn't want him taking those boxes, because they're nice, right? They're expensive, and they're mine! So I helped him move out, and then unpacked all of his shit so I could have my boxes back."

Your Mom, despite hearing this story before, hasn't taken her eyes off Cora the entire time. She's such a careful listener. It's one of the things you love most about her.

"Oh, I'll drop them off for you, if you like!" Cora yells, staring directly at you. Everyone turns to look at you in confusion.

"Why would she need all your boxes?" Jesse laughs.

"For the big move!"

Time stands still. The world goes silent. Your heart stops beating.

"...What move?" Bucky asks, never taking his eyes off you.

"To California! Her dream job, falling in her lap. We're so proud of you, babygirl. You've worked so hard for this."

Cora's tearing up now, the alcohol catching up to her. She raises her glass high in the air.

"To our little superstar. The best baker the world has ever seen! Cheers!"

Everyone clinks their glasses together in the middle of the table, except for you and Bucky. You haven't taken your eyes off each other. The world carries on, but you stay still.

You suddenly feel a cacophony of emotions - sadness, anger, betrayal, hurt and confusion settling like ten tonne weights onto your chest. Then it hits you - you're feeling what Bucky feels.

You feel a heart break.

You're not sure if it's yours or his.

tag list part one -

@lillytracy6996 @securegorgon @roostersforevergirl @povlvr @val-writesstuff  @dreadfulxives18 @1deadpool26 @abbygraceasd @nyutasgirl @mavrellover91 @winterslove1917 @f-this42 @skewedcherries @noisesinthedark @kandis-mom @black-cat-2 @harrystylesandthegoobs @vladsgirlxx @h0nestly-though @arienotari @nash-dara   @wandaneedstherapy @galaxy-dusk @justherefortheficandsmut @cremebruleequeen   @cjand10 @buggy14 @avengers-fixation @blueberrybambi @beautiful-loserr @sarah1barnes @miss-rebel-without-applause @ragingrainbowshipl @shamrockqueen @savemeroman @jenn-f @8crazy-freak8 @daddyjackfrost @openup-yourmind @adangerousbalance  @mandijo17 @daddylorianisastateofmind @rcarbo1 @casa-boiardi @spideegwen @navs-bhat @mssbridgerton @asuni921 @middle-of-the-earth @mfrnchsk

#bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes fic #bucky barnes smut #bucky barnes x reader #bucky x reader #bucky barnes fluff #bucky barnes x reader fluff #bucky barnes x reader smut #dadsbestfriend!bucky x reader #dadsbestfriend!bucky #dadsbestfriend!bucky barnes #sebastian stan #dbf!bucky barnes x reader #Honey Girl #soulmate!bucky barnes #dbf!bucky barnes #dad's best friend bucky barnes #soulmate!au #soulmate!bucky barnes x reader #dbf!bucky #bucky fluff #soulmate au

[myfictionaldreams]

Kinktober Masterlist 2023 😈

Hello lovely readers, Welcome to my Kinktober 2023! I will be posting every day throughout the spooky month with many different kinks so please enjoy! And also read the tags/warnings before continuing on!

main masterlists // AO3

♥ Day 1: Pegging - Mafia!Stucky ♥ Day 2: Roleplay - Steve Harrington ♥ Day 3: Handjob/Fingering - Joel Miller ♥ Day 4: Authority/Power Difference - Lee Bodecker ♥ Day 5: Sweat - Eddie Munson ♥ Day 6: Dry Hump - James Potter ♥ Day 7: Somnophilia - Winter Soldier ♥ Day 8: Breeding - Joel Miller ♥ Day 9: Size Kink - Ari Levinson ♥ Day 10: Cockwarming - Mafia!Stucky ♥ Day 11: Exhibitionism/Voyeurism - Winter Soldier ♥ Day 12: Orgasm Denial/Delay - Lloyd Hansen ♥ Day 13: Heartbeat - Vampire!Steddie ♥ Day 14: Uniform - Natasha Romanoff ♥ Day 15: Spanking/Flogging - The Marauders ♥ Day 16: Double Penetration in one hole - Mafia!Stucky

♥ Day 17: Hate Sex - Sirius Black ♥ Day 18: Sex Pollen - Bucky Barnes ♥ Day 19: Marking - Remus Lupin ♥ Day 20: Fear Play - Mafia!Stucky ♥ Day 21: Hair Pulling - Bucky Barnes/Natasha Romanoff ♥ Day 22: Bondage - The Marauders ♥ Day 23: Deepthroating/Facesitting - Steve Harrington/Eddie Munson ♥ Day 24: Role Reversal (Dom/Sub) - Mafia!Stucky ♥ Day 25: Knives - Natasha Romanoff ♥ Day 26: Overstimulation - Steve Rogers ♥ Day 27: Gloryhole - Nick Fowler ♥ Day 28: Cockbulge - Lee Bodecker ♥ Day 29: Coercion/Blackmail - Dark!Marauders ♥ Day 30: Freeuse - Winter Soldier ♥ Day 31: Religious Play (Priest Kink) - Eddie Munson

#kinktober #kinktober 2023 #kinktober 23 #mine*

[grugruel]

Let the Light in

Pairing: priest!Bucky x f!reader

MDNI/NSFW

Masterlist

Summary: On the day of your wedding, you excpect to love your husband, not fall for the priest.

You'd never been a believer. But when your marrige spiraled into darkness, you had to find light elsewere. So you asked the Lord for help, and He answered.

Ironically enough, He gave you a most devout follower, the priest.

Word count: ca 4k

Warnings: fluff, angst, blasphemy, soft!priest!bucky, pinv sex, oral sex (f receiving), passionate sex, fingering, thigh-riding, adultry, praise (m receiving), priest kink.

AN: its been proof read! I dont understand how yall read it before the fact, my misspellings were crazy. I also edited it a bit, gave yall about 200-300 words more.

I stod silently on the sidewalk, with my back to the road. Numbly observing the scene in front of me as I waited. Cars were rushing past behind me, slowing as they noticed the crowd.

The chilly autumn winds blew my coat off of my stocking clad legs, revealing them to the elements. I couldnt be bothered to care.

The cold did not affect me anymore, I was strung out on feeling.

I watched my husband struggle, and the guests scramble to help him. They got him on his feet, and his best man slung an arm around him to keep him from falling again. My eyes brimmed with tears, ready to fall any second now.

I felt a hand touch the small of my back in silent support. A palm pressed firmly into the arch below, fingertips curling, rouching the fabric of my dress. I closed my eyes and all my troubles were wisked away for but a second, until I heard the guests approach and the hand left me. I opened my eyes to a grim sight.

We met in college, my husband and I. He'd been lovely and attentive when we first met, he made me fall in love with him. He proposed to me on our graduation, and i'd never been happier.

Unfortunately though, it didnt last that long.

As we were fresh out of school, both with stellar scores and brand new degrees. We got our dream jobs, and bought ourselves our dream home.

Everything was perfect, until he got fired. Why? He wouldnt tell me, he left me in the dark, refusing to tell me himself.

Naturally, I grew suspicious.

So I called his former boss, who told me that they'd caught him with his secretary bent over his desk. They said he'd gotten a reputation within his business and would be experiencing difficulties in finding a new job for himself. My crying increased gradually through out the call, this was the first time hed let me down after all. His boss was very apologetic and so was my fiancé.

He found me sat on the floor with phone in hand, a complete mess of tears and running mascara. Immedietly showing worry, 'Whats going on, whats happened?' He asked, thinking somebody died. But when I glared at him, repaying his silence with my own, he understood. He stuttered an apology, his words a flurry of explanations and sorrys, sounding truly regretful.

So I forgave him, silly me.

With time, bitterness manifested within him. Resentment over the fact that I was well liked and did good work at my own job. It led him down a pityfull path, finding solace in alcohol, resentment turning into lousey drunkeness. I should've left him, but chose to forgive him. I loved him, despite all.

Eventually he found a new job, nowehere near the prestige of his old one. But it calmed his drinking.

When he sobered slightly, he apologized continously. Telling me he promised to get better and told me he wanted to have our ceremony, because I deserved it. Foolishly, I belived him. He stayed sober several weeks before the wedding, and I thought it could be a new start.

But here we are now.

I stood behind the doors of the nave, inhaling and exhaling big shaky breaths, trying to gather strength for what I was about to throw myself into.

The priest, father Barnes. The one who would be marrying us, came to me before I walked down the aisle.

'Miss.' He began, his eyes pleading as he took my hands into his, 'Its now my place, I know. But your betrothed-'

'Youre right, its not.' I cut him off, the idea of discussing my fiancés indiscretions with the priest was not appealing. 'I apologize father.' I sighed and met his eyes, 'Hes drunk isnt he?'

The priest tilted his head to the side, realising I was already well aquainted with the vice, 'Well, yes. . .' He said, sounding apologetic.

I nodded my head, deep in thought, 'Alright, lets not waste anymore time then.'

'You're still going ahead with the wedding?' He asked me, an incredulous expression shaping his face.

I looked down, studying the intricate details of my wedding dress. Id picked it myself, my favourite flowers covered it. That man of mine doesnt know my favourite in anything, nor would he notice them on my dress.

A melancholic smile covered my lips, 'You must think me foolish father.' I whispered under my breath, chuckling quietly.

He shook his head and moved one of his hands to my chin, tilting my face to meet his. The other grabbed my hands, and squeezed them, 'I think youre strong.' He told me, a reassuring smile on his lips.

'He promised me he would get better.' My voice was meak, a tear streaking my face.

'You're a good woman.' He breathed, letting go of my hands to cup my face. He leveled his head with mine, his tall stature forcing him to hunch as his eyes locked with mine, 'Too, good.' He whispered, 'And, Its not my business, thats true. . .' Another tear fell, and he gently stroked it away with his thumb, 'But he does not deserve your kindness.'

My cheeks burned hot, a blush crept up my face. I had not heard such kind words in a long time. I could not controll my crying any longer, unstoppable tears came rolling down my cheeks, 'I have to believe him, father, I have to try.' I told him quietly, hating how desperate my voice sounded.

'I love him.'

He cringed at the words, furrowing his brows 'I admire your devotion.' He said gently, 'Do you want more time? Im sure we can wait a little longer.' He tried, but I shook my head.

'No, I dont want to keep the guests waiting.' I took a deep breath, 'Do I look ok?' I asked him.

He nodded, but pulled the cuff over his hand and dabbed my cheeks dry.

His eyes flickered over my face, studying my features, my wet eyes and rosy cheeks. He leaned in, kissed my cheek and whispered 'Angelic.' His hands fell to my bare shoulders and gave them a reassuring squeeze.

He turned around and as he was about the leave I grabbed hold of his wrist, carefully tugging him back. He faced me and I let go of him realising that perhaps it wasnt appropriate of me. 'I just-' I began, but my voice broke. He met my eyes and pulled me into his embrace, 'Thank you, father.' I whispered against his chest.

He rested his head on your shoulder and rubbed your back gently, holding onto the fabric of your dress, rubbing it between his fingers. Studying the beautiful pattern. He slid his hands up your arms, feeling a sudden urge to kiss the bare skin beneath him. He pulled back hastily, clearing his throat as he silently rebuked himself.

'I must take my place dear.' He said, stroking a piece of hair behind my ear. He gave me a last smile, then left, taking his place by the altar.

I heard the music starting and the muffled sound of the crowd standing up. I sighed, steadied my breathing, and opened the doors to the nave. Everyone turned around, looking at me. Whispers rumbled through the crowd as I began walking, their stares were making me nervous.

Through the gloom of the church, light shone through the windows at the altar. I looked at him for comfort, handsome as he was, I met his eyes and found it within them.

He could not tear his eyes from you, you were the most beautiful woman he'd ever seen, courageous and proud, you walked down the aisle. When your eyes met his, he smiled proudly. Hoping you would find some comfort in it, and you found it.

As I approached the altar, I tore my eyes from his and looked at my fiancé. His best man holding him upright, otherwise slumping over. He smiled sloppily at me, I gave him a strained smile back.

The ceremony was over quickly, my husband stumbled through his vows and his kiss tasted of smoke and whiskey. In fact, the entirety of him was drenched in the odor.

I smiled and thanked everyone as they congratulted us, and carefully, tiptoed around the subject of my husband.

I hurried to change into my reception dress, it was all black. Black coat, dress, heels and stockings. Fitting, I thought. As this felt more like a funeral than a wedding, burrying the woman I once was.

People were drinking, laughing and dancing. The reception was doing a wonderful job of keeping everyone cheery, everyone except me. I sat silently by our table, watching my husband as he kept drinking and his men trying to calm him down. He had barely spoken a word to me, he was to drunk to stand, to drunk to have our first dance. I felt myself sinking into oblivion as my polite smiles and thank yous were running out.

But someone approched me, snapping me out of the darkness. I looked up, and the light returned.

He reached his hand out to me, 'May I have this dance?' He asked, his white collar stark against his black shirt.

'You may.' I smiled, the first genuine smile I'd given anyone since the night begun.

I laid my hand in his and he led me to the edge of the dance floor, somewhere we could be at peace. In our dark colors we went unseen, tucked away from prying eyes.

I snaked my arms around his neck and his arms circled my waist, pulling me tightly against him. A bit unorthodox perhaps. But I didnt mind and neither did he, it seemed. I leaned my head against him as we swayed to the music, basking in eachothers prescence.

He sensed that you werent interested in talking, but rather needed a shoulder to lean on. Someone to hold you up, as your ungrateful husband couldnt even do that for himself.

For several songs, we just held eachother. Until the evening began winding down and we had to depart.

'I think this was a mistake.' He whispered.

'Which part?' I asked, and he sighed.

'Dont hesitate to come to me if you need anyhting.' He said quietly, 'Please.' he pleaded. I nodded, thinking id never take him up on his offer.

Now, I stood on the street. Still feeling the priests hand on my back although he'd already taken a few secure steps back.

I watched as my husband being carried to our car, as we were headed for our honeymoon. Two weeks in rome, I wish I could truthfully say I was excited. They shoved him into the back, and once again congratulated us with cheapish smiles. I walked around the car and opened the door, about to sit down when a hand slid into mine. I looked up and my eyes met his beautiful blues once again. He assisted me into the car, lending me his strong arm for support as I sat down. His hand slid out of mine, and a note was left in my palm, reflexicely I closed my hand around it. 'Anything.' He whispered and backed away, closing the door gently.

Our car drove off as the guests were waving us of, but all I could think about was the priest disappearing in the distance.

I opened the note, written down was his number and adress along with a few intricately drawn flowers.

I smiled to myself, quickly stashing it away in my pocket, afraid my husband would see. But as I looked at him, I realised. He was dead asleep, snoring even.

I opened my hand, tracing my fingertips along my palm. Trying to recreate the feeling of his hand in mine, his gentle, yet firm touch on my skin. I sighed, feeling my tears returning.

I cried silently, afraid to wake him. The driver looked at me through his rearview mirror, I met his eyes and quickly averted my gaze, crying even harder, but I couldnt even do that in peace. God, what had I done. I leaned my head against the seat, closing my eyes. When suddenly, I felt fingers on my knee. I shut my eyes harder, begging for it to be my imagination. But it wasnt.

'My, beautiful wife.' He drawled, tracing a finger along my jaw as his hand slid up my thigh. He sat forward, leaning towrd the drivers compartment and shut the hatch.

I opened my eyes and faced him, 'Aw, crying of joy sweetheart?' He asked, he was so delusional it was scary. I nodded, and feigned a smile which he returned lazily, then leaned in to kissed me.

I closed my eyes again, canceling out the taste and smell of liqour, shutting my ears to his voice.

And when his finger reached under my dress, It no longer felt like him. My husbands face was no longer my husbands, his voice and touch was someone elses.

All of a sudden my core was aching for more.

His kisses on my skin felt like heaven, his touch like fire and when he pulled me on top of him. I opened my eyes, and was met with blue, black and white.

Weeks went by and my thoughts never left father Barnes, whenever my husband made love to me, I made love to a priest.

Eventually his drinking subdued and he started taking care of himself, but grew more distant by the day.

It did actually make my existence bareable.

But there came a day, when I got home from work early and things were not as they should. The were heels in the doorway and clothes strewn on the floor. As I followed their trail, I found my husband and his secretary at the end of them. Naked, sweaty and monaing, in our bed, in our home. I was quiet, lost for words, but they mustve noticed my presence.

Because they stopped and threw the sheets over themselves, covering up. 'Sweetheart, its not what it seems.' He managed, struggling to clme up with an excuse. God, the stumache on that man. I felt like screaming, like cursing him and his entire bloodline. But he wasnt worth it.

I turned on my heel and he scrambled out of bed, dragging the sheet with him as he followed me out of the house, apologizing prefusely.

I shut him out, rage filling me as I got in my car and drove away. I drove to the only adress that came to mind.

I walked up to his house and knocked on the door, a few moments passed and he opened.

With wide eyes he looked at me, unable to hide his surpise. 'I uhm, I-' I stammered, my own surpise catching up to me. I hadnt had time to think this through, I acted on pure instinct. 'He cheated on me.' I got the words out, finally taking a breath as I finally understood their meaning. Misery overtook my rage, and my eyes welled as I tried to explain myself. 'I apologize for barging in on you father.' I started, 'Ive been thinking about you and I-' rambling, all my thoughts and feelings poured out of me. In the doorway of this poor mans home.

He reached out to me and pulled me into a hug, backing away from the door and let it fall shut behind me. He rested his head on top of mine as one of his hands held my head against his chest, stroking my hair. The warmth of his home embracing me.

'Can I confess something father?' I asked him as I laid my arms around him, much like our dance a few weeks ago.

'Anything.' He answered, kissing the top of my head.

'Ive sinned.'

He pulled back with a confused look on his face, but didnt let go. 'Lets hear it.' He ordered patiently.

'Ive. . . Been thinking of another man.' I whispered, looking deep into his eyes. 'During actions that should only take place between husband and wife.' I told him quietly, and his face grew pale. 'Ive had an emotional affair with this man, unbeknownst to him.' My breathing turned heavy, as my gaze switched to his lips, 'But, me and this man. Were both bound by vows you see.' I said and let go of him, understanding my words as I said them, and stepped back. Suddenly regretting coming here, as I felt rejection was imminent. 'Mine are already broken, but his are not and he cannot break them. He would not.'

'You should let the man speak for himself.' He said, serious in tone. His gaze locked in on me, as he stepped closer. 'I havent been able to stop thinking about you, no matter how hard I've tried.' He whispered, laying his hands on my hips. 'Ive never seen a woman so beautiful walking down the aisle, god himself mustve blessed you.' I snaked my hands around his shoulders, burrying them in his hair. 'Im hoping he would bless us, too.' Leaning in, his lips were a ghost over mine. 'I would care for you, in a way your husband never could. He does not deserve you.' He leaned his forehead agagaist mine, 'I'd work everyday to deserve your love, your kindness, your presence.' He said quietly against my lips, planting a gentle kiss on them and pulling back slightly to give me room. But I chased his lips, returning the kiss feverishly. Grabbing a fistful of his hair as I pulled him impossibly closer. His hands roamed my back, reaching under my shirt to undo my bra. It fell to the floor and he pulled my shirt over my head in one quick motion, making me gasp.

I removed the collar of his shirt with my teeth and ripped his black shirt open, burrying my head in the crook of his neck, 'Youre not a beginner, are you father? I asked, between kisses. Breathing heavily as I latched onto his skin, sucking at the sweet spot between his neck and collarbone.

He moaned, a smirk shaping his lips, 'Saints also sin from time to time.' he breathed, his hands falling to my ass and lifted me into his arms. I chuckled, letting go of his neck and circled my legs around his hips. I pushed my bare breasts against him and he burried his face in them, in turns taking them into his mouth. 'Where?' His voice came muffled by my skin.

'Everywhere.' I answered.

I could feel his grin against my skin, as he nipped my nipple with his teeth, making me yelp. He walked us toward his bedroom, and laid me down on his bed. He stood back, studying me as he took his shirt and pants off. I unbuttoned my own pants and shimmied out of them, raising myself onto my elbows, watching him as he took me in. His eyes roamed my body, thighs, hips, stumache, breasts. He loved all of me, 'Youre perfect.' He said, lust in his eyes as he climbed on top of me. 'I need you.' He whispered.

'You'll have me.' I told him and flipped him over. Positioning him against the headboard as I stradled his thigh, grinning wickedly and leaned forward, kissing his jaw. 'But first-' I whispered against his ear, 'I want to test your self control.' He looked confused, and I began grinding my clit against his thigh, a whimper escaping me. His hands flew to my hips to help me along, but I grabbed them and led them up to the headboard. I leveled my face with his, ghosting my lips over his as I had him hold onto the board, 'No touching.' I whispered and pecked his lips. I leaned back and my grinding resumed, I grabbed his thighs for support as the heat from the friction was making me swoon. I leaned my head back, biting my lip from the pleasure and when I looked back at him, he was holding onto the board for dear life. The muscles in his arms and jaw clenching as he fought himself to stay still, his eyes were running up and down my body.

The way your hips swayed and breasts bounced, it was sucking all the restraint out of him. His hands were itching to touch you, to just feel your skin under his fingertips for a moment. It would keep him fed for the rest of his life.

I hummed, 'Im- im gonna-' I stammered, my breaths frenzied as I was closing in on my orgasm. The crazy in his eyes made me smile devilishly, I felt evil, in the best way. My hips stuttered against his thigh, my ruts becoming faster and shorter as I was approaching my release. When I looked at him, his eyes were pleading, begging for permission, but it was to late. I rushed over the edge in a second, collapsing onto him, panting hard as I was catching my breath.

'May I?' He asked, his voice strained.

I kissed his chest and answered, 'Yes, please. You did so good.' He grunted at the praise, surprising me. He grabbed my ribs and threw me under him, hurridly kissing his way down my body until he reached my thighs. Spreading them, he kissed his way up the inside until he reached my panties. Without a second thought he ripped them apart and burried his face in my cunt. Tasting me, licking my juices, sliding his tongue through my folds and kissing my clit. A string of curses fell from my lips, as he pushed a finger inside of me, carefully sliding it in and out. Then adding another, and eventually a third, he thrusted them into me, my moaning telling him he was on the right track. He curled them into my spot and I nearly screamed.

'Just like that, good job.' I breathed and he moaned against my clit. What fun. He reached into his boxers and stroked himself, the sight made me mad. And for the second time, I came tumbling over the edge. He was not far behind, coming into his own hand, drenching himself in his seed. I grabbed his arm and pulled his hand closer to me, licking a stripe of his hand. He grunted at the sight, spurring me on as I took his fingers into my mouth. Sucking him clean as he watched, furrowing his brows, he became plagued by lust.

I pulled him closer to me, meeting his lips in another kiss as he pulled off his boxers. I reached down, stroking him as I lined him up with my entrance, 'You did such a good job, father.' His head perked at the praise, like a puppy being told hes a good boy. Gratefully pecking my face, cheek, chin and jaw, below my ear and neck. He put his weight on me, we couldnt possibly get any closer to one another. 'I need you in me father.' I told him bluntly, and leveled his head with mine, sliding inside. Kissing me mean while and I moaned into his mouth, sharing my breath with him. I laid my hands on his hips, telling him to move by pulling and pushing. Helping him set a gentle but firm pace, he lowered his head to the crook of my neck, his breath hot against my skin. 'Let me hear you father, dont hold back.' I whispered and appreciatively he grunted against my skin, moaning in my ear. It was fiendish, it was fantastic. 'Deeper, please.' I asked, pulling on his hips to drive him deeper and using the weight of his entire body he thrusted into me, in rythm with his grunts as our bodiess moved together.

'Tell me im good, please.' He begged, nuzzling his face into my neck.

I smiled, 'Youre being so good for me father.' I whispered into his hair.

'Thank you.' He whimpered, putting even more force to his thrusts as he traced my collarbone with kisses, all the way to my shoulder, repeating "Thank you." Over and over again inbetween his kisses. His thrusts were coming faster as he was closing in on his orgasm, driving me over the edge with him. 'I- im- im close.' He stuttered faintly.

'So am I, almost there father.' His pace hastened as his hand slithered between our bodies, finding my clit and circled it. 'God' I moaned, spots specking my vision as the priests thrusts became frenzied. He pinched my skin in warning, reminding me not to take the lords name in vain. Then we came together, and he collapsed on top of me.

'Im sorry for swearing, father. You bring it out of me.' I whispered.

He chuckled, 'Youre forgiven.' Throughout the night, we made love on the couch, the floor, the kitchen table and shower.

Eventually, we got back into bed. Holding eachother tightly as we drifted off to sleep.

When I woke up late the next day, there was a vase of flowers on the bedside table with a note under it, the letter "-B" was written on it.

I unfolded it and he had written me a message, "I had to go to church, but didnt want to wake you. I hope on seeing you later, please stay if you want to. Id love to come home to you. -PS, Your favourites."

I smiled happily and smelled the bouqet of tulips, a soft, warm feeling spreading throughout my body.

For a long time love had felt dark to me, it had felt cold and lonely, but now. . .

I had let the light in, he was my light.

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x female reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes smut #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky #bucky smut #bucky x female reader #bucky x reader #bucky x you #bucky fanfiction #bucky imagine #bucky barnes fluff #bucky barnes angst

[bucky-barnes-diaries]

Day 30 — Double Penetration

Pairing || Beefy!CatholicPriest!Bucky x Inexperienced!Innocent!Virgin!Female!Reader

Word Count || Around 4400

Contents & Warnings || Smut, Dark/Taboo Themes — NSFW, 18+ Only, Minors DNI, non-con, explicit content/language, pet names, religious themes, blasphemy of religion, sacrilegious acts, biblical references, sexual content involving a catholic priest, strict/religious parents, age-gap (Reader is early 20s, Bucky is early/mid 30s), Father kink, priest kink, size kink, corruption kink, authority kink, inappropriate/forceful touches, begging, double penetration (in two holes), vaginal fingering, vaginal penetration with sex toy, anal play, anal fingering, anal sex, intense orgasm, squirting, no loss of virginity, mention of bodily fluids.

Disclaimer || English is not my first language so I apologise for any mistakes or misunderstandings!

Kinktober Masterlist

Every Sunday after mass, you would happily accompany Father James in tidying up the church.

It had become a routine—a secret ritual almost for you and him to clean and organise, which would inevitably lead to him creeping up behind you, disturbing whatever you were doing, so that he could continue his corruption on your body and soul which he had done so for the past few weeks now.

But this time, it was different. This time, as soon as the town had said their blessings and goodbyes to Father James, he was right on you with his wicked plans and corruption—tidying not on his agenda for today.

“Come,” he held out his colossal hand for you to take, but all you did was stare at it in confusion with big soft eyes. His face held no emotions—not the wicked kind nor the sweet kind which he indeed possessed as well at rare times, making it hard for you to read him on what his intentions were.

“Um, a-aren’t we going to clean a-and tidy up, Father?” You mumbled.

He shook his head no while a hint of a smirk twitched on his lips—revealing that his purpose for you may be unholy and ungodly after all.

“Not yet. Now come with me.” He further extended his hand to you, insisting that you take it and let him lead the way.

You hesitated only for a second or two more before you lay your smaller shaking hand in his larger grip—not wanting to disappoint Father James in any way if you didn't do as he willed. His tender hold on contrasted with how he usually handled you—determined and forceful.

You weren't able to revel in the sweet touch for too long before he pulled you with him—through the nave, up the altar, into the sacristy and up the stairs that led to the second level of the holy church, which you had never been to. He stopped in front of a door and let go of your hand before he pulled out a key from his front pocket.

You stood a few steps behind him, fidgeting with your fingers and looking down at your shoes as he unlocked the door. The heavy wooden door creaked as it opened, and you peeked up to see what was held behind. It looked to be a room—his room, his sleeping quarter.

Why had he brought you here?

“Please, come inside,” he smiled warmly at you as he presented his arm into the room, gesturing for you to enter.

You dragged your feet across the creaking floor while still looking down, shy and not daring to look up at him as you entered the room and came to a halt in the middle of it. He closed the door behind himself, and you turned your head slightly to glance at him, still with the same warm smile on his handsome face.

“It's ok. You can look around if you'd like. I'm just going to grab something.”

“O-ok.”

Your eyes scanned around to take in his personal space. It looked pretty generic and boring—not much going on in the small room except for a desk, a wardrobe and a bookshelf. What did catch your eyes almost immediately was the bed in the corner, and you were intrigued to investigate closer. Your legs carried you effortlessly to it, and you stood at the foot of the bed as you examined the space further.

A bible lay on the side table, along with some personal books and his rosary beads. Jesus on the cross hung on the wall; looking down at what you found the most interesting—his bed. The white linen was ruffled, and the pillow still had an indent from his head lying upon it. The faint aroma that exuded was that only of Father James—a musky scent of heaven or perhaps even hell. Your mind started to wander to scenarios other than him sleeping in the bed—reading, praying, touching himself.

You hitched an inhale as you thought about it—him lying naked on the soft sheets, writhing in pleasure as he touched and pumped his thickness—heavy moans and groans bouncing across the walls as he neared his end. You wondered if you and he ever pleasured simultaneously late at night, reaching that heavenly state together.

Your thoughts were interrupted by the sound of creaking wood slowly approaching. A growing sinful manifestation lurked behind you as Father James neared where you stood. Not even looking at him, you could tell that that sweet and warm smile he displayed when you entered his room was long gone, replaced with his signature wicked smirk that meant corruption and authority.

His broad torso ever so lightly grazed your back—a significant contrast to the way his hand grabbed your clothed hip in a harsh grip, making an inaudible gasp slip from you. His lips ghosted your earlobe, and his warm breath made your skin tingle in fear and excitement.

“You still won't let me corrupt your innocence, huh, sweet thing?”

He's been on you for weeks, practically ever since you and he started your sexual adventure together, about your virginity—wanting to take and destroy it, but you still couldn't find the nerve to go through with it, even though your primal urges begged and yearned for it. It was just too deeply ingrained in you that sex before marriage was a great sin and, definitely, a one-way ticket to hell in doing it with a man of God.

“I-I can't, Father, I-I just can't. I'm sorry….” you mumbled in shame—ashamed once again that you couldn't give him the satisfaction of taking your virginity which he so desperately desired.

“It's ok,” he murmured before kissing behind your ear. “There are still lots of ways for me to have your body and holes while still keeping your purity,” he growled against your neck as he skimmed his lips on your sensitive skin, making your whole body shudder. He pulled you flush against his broad torso while his hand that held your hip crept downwards to grope your covered core, making you sob at the cruelty of his grip.

“Will you let me do as I want, sweet thing?”

“I-I–”

He chuckled at your struggle to find words to speak your mind. “I'm going to do whatever I want either way. Whether you want me to or not,” he spoke, and before you knew it, you were tossed down frontal onto the soft mattress by Father James' forceful hand, making you gasp at the unexpected action.

He pressed his heavy weight on you as he pinned you further down—trapping you so there was no chance for you to escape his wicked grasp.

“W-what are you doing, Father?” You sobbed in fear as this was quite a new scenario he'd ever put you in, and there was no telling what he could do to you in this power stance.

He kissed your cheek lovingly, but the words he uttered against your heated skin were nothing but evil and impure. “I may not be able to take your virginity, but my God, sweet little thing, am I going to defile your precious soul in another way. I'm going to fill both your pure and innocent holes up until I have you a pretty and whiny mess for me on my bed. I’ll have you riveted in such extraordinary pleasure that I'll make you see God, trust me.”

You've never heard him utter such filthy words before. Frankly, you didn't even quite know what he meant by some of them, but with the way you felt your panties dampen with arousal and excitement, had you know that your body had a strong desire for this, despite your mind not being entirely on board with the idea.

“B-both h-holes?”

“Yes,” he growled through gritted teeth as he started to hump his covered front against your backside, his hardness rubbing against you, making you softly moan in need. “But don't worry, my sweet little thing, I won't stick my cock in your tiny little innocent cunt. But I will stuff your pussy with this.” He held something that resembled a penis in front of your face. Not as big as Father James, but it definitely wasn't small either.

“W-what is that?” It scared you. The thought of him inserting something so life-like into you had you fear about your virginity and whether it would be broken or not.

“It's a special little toy I bought for you, sweet one. You can even take it home with you after and play with it as much as you want, but I'm the one that's going to fuck you with it first.”

“B-but will I still be a virgin after, Father?”

“Don't worry, my little angel.” He kissed the corner of your mouth tenderly and sweetly while he uttered some reassuring words. “I swear this won't corrupt you in that way.”

You tried to open your mouth to say something more—beg him to stop or encourage him to go on with his vile plan, but all you did was stay silent as you felt paralysed due to his assertive promises on your frail body.

He got up from his position on top of you and raised your hips in the air while he found his place behind. You felt very unsteady in this bent form—face pressed into the mattress and your backside up in the air. It was new and uncomfortable, thighs shaking slightly, but after a couple of seconds, you managed to ground yourself.

He lifted your dress to reveal your panties damp with your arousal, making him chuckle at you being a needy little angel for him. “I knew you'd be wet, sweet thing. Such a dirty little girl you are for wanting a man of God to perform such vile acts on your innocent body.” He hooked his fingers in the hem. Your panties clinging to your sticky folds as he peeled them off and let them fall down to your rested knees.

“Thank the Lord,” he mumbled as he inspected you, his hands caressing your hips very delicately, leaving a trail of goosebumps on your skin. You closed your eyes in shyness and shame and nibbled on your bottom lip at being so exposed to him in such a lewd state. All the passages in the bible about whoring perfectly embodied you at the moment.

“Where do I even start with you?” You felt his warm breath on your left cheek, followed by a series of sloppy kisses on your skin. “I want to eat all of you, sweet thing.” His words tingled against your holes as he ghosted his lips on them, making your breath hitch in your throat and your walls flutter around nothing. Father James had never had his mouth on you like that, and you wanted him to devour you and show you a whole new sensation that his fingers could never emulate.

He licked a broad stripe through your mess, making you gasp in delight at his delicious tongue on your most sensitive part. “So good and tempting,” he murmured before laying a kiss on your needy nub, “but I think I want to leave that for another time. I just want to get right on and destroy your little angel holes.”

A bottle opened up, and a globby slickness of some sort fell on your puckered entrance before it slowly trickled down and coated your folds as well. It was not saliva but something unfamiliar.

“W-what is that, Father?” “Just something that will make it less painful, sweet angel.” “P-painful?” “Don't worry, sweet one. I'll be ever so gentle with you, I promise. You're in the safe hands of God.”

This felt more like the Devil's.

He circled the pad of his thumb on your puckered hole, making you gasp and jerk your hips forward due to the alien and slightly uncomfortable sensation. “It's ok, sweet thing. Relax for me” His other hand caressed your hip to soothe and comfort you as he continued his stimulation. You took a few deep breaths and tried to loosen the stiff muscles in your body.

Slowly, he pushed through the tight barrier, making you clutch the sheets in your grasp at the knee-buckling and slightly painful sensation. “I-it hurts,” you sobbed into the mattress once the tip of him was inside your heat. It was too much, and you feared how it would be to have his thick length split your flesh in half.

“Shhh, it's ok. It will feel better soon. You're doing such a good job,” he praised as he began a slow, steady rhythm of thrusting the tip of his thumb in your tight warmth. It began to be less painful and more pleasurable the more you got used to the new stimulation, making you sigh in relief.

With his other hand, he ran his fingers through your sticky and messy folds before he circled your aching little pearl, making you mewl at the all-so-familiar sensation that ascended you into pleasure, and with them two combined, it was like reaching a new state of euphoria. “T-that feels so good, Father,” you moaned as your eyes fluttered and your skin shivered in delicious tingles all over.

“It gets better, sweet one,” he uttered as he teased your quivering opening before inserting a finger deep into your drenched walls while simultaneously pushing his thumb further into your heat, reaching knuckle deep, making you cry aloud while your knees trembled. Both your holes clenched around him so tightly, but with the help of Father James' once more reassuring words, you managed to relax and revel in the complete fullness. “That's it, my sweet little angel. Relax and take it all in.”

At the same time, he pulled out his digits from your tight holes, teasing your openings in circles before slowly pushing in again, making you hiss at the burning sensation, eyes rolling back and toes curling as they sheathed themselves entirely in you.

Father James begins pumping his two digits in and out of your tight and warm holes, curling them against your inner walls. The tips of his fingers meet each other with each deep thrust, making your eyes see stars at the earth-shocking sensation it brings. The delicious stimulation had that buzzing passion in the pit of your stomach rapidly build up with each pleasurable push into your insides.

As you were on the brink of a heavenly release of bliss, all stimulation on you ceased to a halt, making you whine in protest at his Godly fingers stopping his Unholy corruption on your innocent holes.

Father James chuckled at the state he's made of you with only his digits—already a pretty little mess for him, as he told you would be. “I've barely started, sweet thing,” he sneered as you heard him take off his pants behind you. You tried to lift your head to see him spring to life, but you were too weak to bring yourself up.

Your tight little flower gushed in need to be stuffed and filled once more, while your throbbing and dilated heat ached just the same to feel fullness again.

“P-please, Father, I-I want you to fill me.” You weren't used to begging in such a dirty manner, and once the words left your mouth, you became so flustered with shyness and awkwardness that you buried your face into the mattress in shame.

“My, my,” he growled deeply like he was possessed by Satan himself. He leaned over you and lifted your face off the mattress by your neck, and turned your head so you could stare directly into his dark eyes with your hooded and weak ones. “Not such a sweet little angel anymore, are you? Such a dirty little demon I've made of you, little girl,” he chuckled before letting go and returning to his assertive and towering stance over your frail and helpless body.

He grabbed both of your cheeks in a forceful grip and spread them, making him growl as both of your throbbing holes opened more up for him. “Such tight little holes begging to be stuffed and abused, sweet little thing.” You hummed your approval at his dirty statement, wanting nothing more at the moment than to have your holes split in half and destroyed.

That same bottle as before opened up, and you heard him smear his length with the same slickness as he had done you. His thick and heavy size rested against your cheek, so close to your aching heat, his pre-cum leaking all over your skin.

He grabbed the toy he presented to you before and gently tapped it against your little pearl, making you lean more into its delicious touch. He ran the length of it against your slick folds before teasing your opening with its bulbous head, preparing to penetrate your gushing flower.

Slowly, inch by inch, he buried the toy into your walls. You've never had anything so significant inserted into you before, only being used to a finger or two. The stretch was burning and uncomfortable, making you emit a cry in pain as your eyes brimmed with tears. “Shhh, it's ok, sweet thing,” he comforted along with a soft touch on your skin with his free hand.

Once the toy was sheathed into you to the hilt, nudging your sweet spot, you exhaled a content sigh, slowly getting accustomed to the delightful fullness. He slowly started thrusting the toy in and out of you—easy and short strokes to begin with, getting your walls familiarised with the stretch before he could fully pump the toy in and out of you in long and deep movements. Your soft purring had Father James twitch against you as more of his slick moisture leaked on your skin.

You had gotten so accustomed to the toy in your velvet walls, driving itself in and out of you in riveting movements, that once his swollen tip gently rubbed around your puckered hole, you gasped in surprise. Father James prodded your entrance, preparing to add more stimulation to your already overwhelmed and sensitive body. So he slowly, and so very delicately and safely, pushed through the tight barrier, making a cry rip your throat and grip the sheets harshly at the invasive and dirty stretch.

His soft lulling, and comforting caress on your smooth hip made you ease down to the best of your abilities and open yourself up for him to take you as he wanted.

“God, so tight, my sweet little thing.” Once his swelling head was nestled in your heat, a thick and heavy lust-filled grunt rumbled in his throat, and it went straight to your tingling nub that begged to be played with and stimulated—jealous of all your holes getting the attention.

It was like he intruded your mind because his hand, which was once on your hip to soothe and comfort, went underneath you to caress and massage your deprived nerve—easing some of the discomforts.

He pushed through a little bit more, about halfway, before slowly pulling back till only his tip rested inside your warmth. Each time he delicately thrusts into you, he gets a little bit further, a little bit deeper.

The toy inside of you kept a steady and delicious pace, all while his girth kept accommodating to your tight heat, and before you knew it, he was finally buried to the hilt inside you, making you feel every single inch of him. “God, sweet thing. Your tight little ass feels so good wrapped around my cock,” he groaned in satisfaction at being buried so deep.

You were left so taken aback and overwhelmed at being so filled and stretched in both your holes that the moans of pleasure and pain you emitted didn't even sound like you—the tone laced with filth and sin.

How you were and sounded at the moment was nothing like the innocent little girl your parents raised you to be. This type of corruption from your unholy priest left a significant dirty stain on your innocence, and you feared you would never again be pure and righteous in the eyes of God due to this major violation of your body and soul, despite still keeping your virtue.

He pulled you out of your wandering thought as he peppered soft and wet kisses on your shivering spine. “Good girl,” he praised, making you hum at his rare loving nature surfacing. The action of his kisses were so tender as opposed to the sinful degradation of your holes.

“Do you want to continue?” It was rare of him even to ask since he usually just did as he pleased, and you would always acclimate to what he was doing. You nodded, incapable of forming your words for him to continue his delicious corruption.

With a feral grunt, he pulled out his length and toy simultaneously before thrusting them both inside, making you yelp and fist the sheets tight to brace yourself for the forceful and intense push. The toy inside of you started to pump with ease—deep and whole, while his thrusts in your heat were slow to begin with as it's the most invasive and hurtful, making tears spill from your eyes and stain the sheets.

But once Father James senses that you were starting to relax and enjoy yourself, he picked up the pace, slipping into you with ease, making the bed squeak with each thrust.

The tantalizing rhythm his hips hold as he smacks into your behind was so incredibly lewd and sinful. His girth sheathing into your heat that wrapped so perfectly around him, had him relish in pleasure as he voiced his praises quite lively. “So tight, my sweet thing. God, you're so good. You love having my cock buried so deep in your little ass, don't you? All while fucking your needy little cunt with the toy?”

You had trouble finding your words as the sensation of having both holes used and abused left you a cross-eyed, drooling and blubbering mess. But after trying a few times, all you managed was to give him a weak “yes”, which had him chuckle at the messy state he's made of you as he leisurely continued his pace with both his girth and toy into your quivering holes.

The tip of the toy nudged and stimulated your swollen sweet spot each time it filled you up, and along with Father James and the toy brushing against each other between the thin wall of your insides, it had you see stars as waves of your moans and whines were muffled into the sheets.

And the way his colossal fingers stimulated your engorged and overwhelmed bundle of nerves tied it perfectly together. All three stimuli brought forward a sensation that could only be described as pure paradise.

You don't know how long this sinful violation went on as you all but ascended into a haven of burning pleasure that Father James acted upon your body.

And without warning, your senses were rocked by an intense and violent orgasm that consumed the entirety of you.

Your vision turned bright white like you'd ascended into heaven as the electrifying buzz coursed through each ending of your nerves. You convulsed and cried on the bed as a gush of wetness exploded out of you, making Father James curse and pull out the toy from your quivering walls and furiously rub your throbbing pearl while still continuing his thrusts into you, which made your gushing walls clench around nothing. At the same time, your tight heat squeezed him harshly.

With a guttural and feral groan, he pulled out of your used hole, making your weak knees collapse and hips hit the bed as you lie limp on the soft surface, still twitching from the earth-shattering aftershocks while your chest lifted erratically to catch your breath.

You heard him pump himself to completion as he uttered nothing but filthy words. “So wide and open for me, baby,” he grunted as his holy seed spilt and coated your pulsating and dilated hole. “God, look at that. Your little ass is so hungry for my seed,” he finished himself off entirely with heavy moans.

You were so weak and dissociated as you were still floating somewhere far above due to that soul and body-wracking orgasm. You’d never experienced anything like that before.

It was only when Father James softly caressed your waist and peppered comforting kisses on your spine that you got pulled back into reality, hissing and whining when he touched your tender skin. His twitching girth rested comfortably against your used and abused heat.

“You did so well, sweet one,” he murmured against your skin, making your already sensitive nerves burn intensely. “I'll clean you up, and then we can rest.” You clutched the sheets and shut your eyes tight as he wiped down your holes since they were so oversensitive and raw from the violation he'd done on you.

Once he was done, he pulled your weak and trembling body further up the bed, laying you on top of his broad and firm chest as he held you close. Softly stroking your back and kissing your forehead. You revelled in the gentle care and love as it was something Father James rarely showed.

“F-Father,” you murmured, barely above a whisper into his skin.

“Yes, sweet one?”

“A-am I dirty now?” Those thoughts you had before about your innocence forever being stained and God not seeing you as pure and righteous anymore clouded your mind, making tears spring from your eyes that you may never recover from this great sin, no matter how much you repented or pleaded for forgiveness and blessings.

“Hey,” he softly stroked your tear-stained cheek while you peered up into his crystal eyes that now held nothing but sincerity and tenderness. “I promise, sweet one, that we did nothing wrong. You’re still a virgin and pure and whole in the eyes of God.”

“A-are you sure, Father.” You knew you should never question the authority and words of a priest, but you had to be sure that your virtue and innocence were still intact.

“Sweet one, you are forgiven, and you are whole and perfect. God loves you and forever will.”

“T-thank you, Father,” you breathed a sigh of relief at the blessings and forgiveness. Now, you could rest comfortably against Father James, knowing that you were still loved and treasured by God.

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!

I don’t do taglists so please follow @bucky-barnes-diaries-library and turn on notifications to never miss out on my writing!

#kinktober 2022 #kinktober #priest!bucky #bucky barnes au #bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x f!reader #bucky barnes x female reader #bucky barnes smut #bucky barnes one shot #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes fanfiction #sebastian stan #sebastian stan x reader #sebastian stan smut #marvel #marvel x reader #marvel smut

[writerscafehub]

𝐖𝐑𝐈𝐓𝐄𝐑❜𝐒 𝐂𝐀𝐅𝐄 𝐎𝐂𝐓𝐎𝐁𝐄𝐑 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓

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c /づ づ 𝐇𝐄𝐑𝐄 𝐀𝐑𝐄 all the works made by the very talented members of the writer's café server in the month of OCTOBER. we ask, and highly encourage, that you reblog them in support. ♡

ALL WORKS ARE FOR THOSE 18+ ONLY.

𖥔 indicates smut

✶ indicates dark elements

By ☁︎☽ Cocoa ☁︎☽ @cocoamoonmalfoy @darksideofthecocoamoon

𖥔 𝐂𝐑𝐎𝐖𝐍 𝐇𝐈𝐌 - 𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐓 𝟕 | god of spring!timothee chalamet

Part seven of the crown him series

✶ 𝐖𝐈𝐓𝐇 𝐀 𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐕𝐘 𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐑𝐓 𝐈'𝐋𝐋 𝐆𝐔𝐈𝐃𝐄 𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐒 𝐃𝐀𝐆𝐆𝐄𝐑 | the beast

Imagine a twisted beauty and the beast. Reverse kidnapping: I’m in your house and I’m not leaving

𖥔 𝐃𝐀𝐌𝐍𝐄𝐃 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐃𝐄𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐌𝐈𝐍𝐄𝐃 | bard!timothee chalamet

An unlikely trio on an impossible quest pick up a stray along the way

𖥔 ✶ 𝐂𝐎𝐕𝐄𝐓 | soft!dark!king hal

Hal could sympathize with Hades, for after seeing the light of life, how could he not pin it close to his darkness

𖥔 𝐒𝐓𝐑𝐎𝐊𝐄 | king hal

Hal finds that sitting for his portrait isn’t bad at all

𝐓𝐄𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐃 𝐀𝐑𝐌𝐎𝐑 | prince hal

Disowned or not, the son of the king needed to be protected

By ★ Jen ★ @jen-with-a-pen

𝐀𝐋𝐋 𝐓𝐈𝐄𝐃 𝐔𝐏 - 𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐓 𝐎𝐍𝐄 | art student!frat brother!steve rogers

Steve can’t remember what happened last night, but his body sure does. Regret is the worst hangover of all - even more so when you can’t remember what you regret

✶ 𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐈𝐍𝐒 𝐀𝐑𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐃 𝐌𝐘 𝐅𝐄𝐄𝐓 | bucky barnes

Being held captive and experimented on definitely wasn’t in your job description. After what seems like months in HYDRA captivity, rescue finally arrives - but what is rescue if not relief from suffering.

By 𖠰 Nat 𖠰 @the-iceni-bitch

𖥔 ✶ 𝐍𝐀𝐓𝐀𝐋𝐈𝐄'𝐒 𝐌𝐎𝐍𝐒𝐓𝐑𝐎𝐔𝐒 𝐌𝐀𝐘𝐇𝐄𝐌 | kinktober masterlist

Prepare yourselves for a month filled with wicked and scandalous delights, with vicious and freakish lovers for whatever type of monster you may fancy

By ❈ Beanie ❈ @shadeysprings

𖥔 ✶ 𝐅𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐊𝐓𝐎𝐁𝐄𝐑 𝐅𝐄𝐒𝐓 | kinktober masterlist

Four stories with captivatingly dark themes

𖥔 ✶ 𝐃𝐄𝐀𝐋 𝐎𝐑 𝐍𝐎 𝐃𝐄𝐀𝐋 | dark!pete brenner

You work hard to entice the biggest possible client for your company, but he has his own ideas for you to make you say yes

𖥔 ✶ 𝐍𝐎 𝐆𝐎𝐎𝐃 𝐈𝐍 𝐆𝐎𝐎𝐃𝐁𝐘𝐄𝐒 | dark!ransom drysdale

Ransom makes it known why breaking up with him is wrong.

𖥔 ✶ 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐓𝐄𝐀𝐑𝐒 𝐎𝐍 𝐈𝐕𝐎𝐑𝐘 | priest!lee boedecker

The new priest of your church asks you to sing for him.

𖥔 ✶ 𝐍𝐎 𝐖𝐀𝐘 𝐎𝐔𝐓 | serial killer!lee boedecker

With the serial killer targeting boys, you thought you were safe. Until you weren’t.

By ❥ Courtney ❥ @chasingmidnights

𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐂𝐀𝐌𝐏𝐅𝐈𝐑𝐄 𝐒𝐓𝐎𝐑𝐈𝐄𝐒 | thirteen nights of halloween masterlist

13 Nights of Halloween and each night is going to be a different (what I'm calling) "campfire stories". Each story is going to be told by a different character ranging from Chris Evans characters to Sebastian Stan characters to Marvel Characters. Make sure to take a look at the Intro to meet the various characters! So, gather around the fire and try not to get too scared.

By ⚔︎ Suz ⚔︎ @targaryenvampireslayer

𖥔 𝐇𝐀𝐔𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐃 | ghost!bucky barnes

Bucky was taken from you by HYDRA a year ago. You mourn him and miss him, until you start dreaming of him… until he starts coming back to you

By ✵ Selene ✵ @fluffyprettykitty

𖥔 𝐒𝐀𝐌 𝐖𝐈𝐋𝐒𝐎𝐍 𝐀𝐒𝐊 | sugar daddy!sam wilson

Quick and dirty sugar daddy Sam Drabble.

By 𖤛 Roo 𖤛 @darkficsyouneveraskedfor

✶ 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐒𝐀𝐍𝐆 𝐈𝐓 𝐋𝐈𝐊𝐄 𝐇𝐀𝐋𝐋𝐄𝐋𝐔𝐉𝐀𝐇 | yelena belova

You find a stranger at your door, a visitor you can’t make leave

✶ 𝐄𝐕𝐄𝐑𝐘 𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃 𝐋𝐈𝐊𝐄 𝐒𝐌𝐎𝐊𝐄 𝐅𝐑𝐎𝐌 𝐀 𝐂𝐈𝐆𝐀𝐑𝐄𝐓𝐓𝐄 | kraven the hunter

You catch the eye of a mysterious man who shares an unexpected secret with you

By ☆ Stella ☆ @a-lumos-in-the-nox

✶ 𝐂𝐔𝐑𝐒𝐄𝐃

A group of friends decide to explore the haunted house on the shortcut back to campus. Ignoring the 'No Trespassing' signs. They ease drop in on a meeting between beings, mortals have never lived to tell tales about. And find out the consequences of ease dropping on the annual Hallows Eve meeting.

𖥔 𝐍𝐒𝐅𝐖 𝐀𝐋𝐏𝐇𝐀𝐁𝐄𝐓 | druig and makkari and female!oc

The kink alphabet for the threesome

𖥔 𝐍𝐎𝐓 𝐍𝐎𝐖 | druig and female!oc

Reader is horny but won’t do anything about it because she is busy doing other things. But her husband who can read minds can hear her inner struggle and does something about it.

𖥔 𝐃𝐄𝐕𝐎𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍 | druig and makkari and female!oc

Makkari has a surprise field trip for Juni and Druig. They don’t know where they are going. It is her turn to pick where they meet up this time.

By ☄︎ Ellie ☄︎ @mrsmischief209

𖥔 𝐒𝐔𝐑𝐑𝐄𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐑 |

Introduction to Kinktober

𖥔 𝐒𝐋𝐎𝐖𝐇𝐀𝐍𝐃 | billy russo

Inspired by the song ‘Slow Hand’ by the Pointer Sisters

✶𖥔 𝐒𝐀𝐂𝐑𝐈𝐅𝐈𝐂𝐄 𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑𝐒𝐄𝐋𝐅 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐋𝐄𝐓 𝐌𝐄 𝐇𝐀𝐕𝐄 𝐖𝐇𝐀𝐓'𝐒 𝐋𝐄𝐅𝐓 | softdark!frank castle

Inspired by the song ‘Breath’ by Breaking Benjamin

By ☪︎ Gina ☪︎ @slvttyfied

𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐍𝐄𝐖 𝐑𝐎𝐌𝐀𝐍𝐓𝐈𝐂𝐒 - 𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐓 𝐎𝐍𝐄 | chef!ari levinson

Cause baby I can build a castle out of all the bricks they threw at me and every day is like a battle but every night with us is like a dream

By ✯ Vic ✯ @sunflowersteves

𝐊𝐈𝐍𝐊𝐓𝐎𝐁𝐄𝐑 𝐃𝐀𝐘 𝐓𝐇𝐑𝐄𝐄 - 𝐅𝐈𝐑𝐒𝐓 𝐁𝐉 | carmen berzatto

Carmen knew you were a bit inexperienced, so what better way than to show you how?

By ⚘ Akane ⚘ @haravath0t

𖥔 𝐁𝐄𝐀𝐔𝐓𝐈𝐅𝐔𝐋 𝐒𝐓𝐑𝐀𝐍𝐆𝐄𝐑 | college au!alhaitham

College AU headcanon

By ⎈ Navy ⎈ @navybrat817

𖥔 ✶𝐓𝐑𝐈𝐂𝐊 𝐎𝐑 𝐓𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐓 𝐍𝐎𝐍𝐒𝐄𝐍𝐒𝐄 | various SS and CE characters

One shots and ficlets for the month of October

𖥔 𝐋𝐎𝐒𝐄 𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐕𝐎𝐈𝐂𝐄 | bucky barnes

You want Bucky in your mouth. Simple as that.

By ✍︎ Em ✍︎ @writing-for-marvel

𖥔 𝐊𝐈𝐍𝐊𝐓𝐎𝐁𝐄𝐑 𝐇𝐎𝐍𝐄𝐘𝐌𝐎𝐎𝐍 | mob!bucky barnes

Newlyweds Mob!Bucky and wife!reader explore Europe and each other during their honeymoon.

By ❀ Ali ❀ @flordeamatista

𖥔 ✶ 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐖𝐈𝐓𝐂𝐇𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐇𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 | various SS and CE characters

Kinktober inspired by tarot cards and their auras

𖥔 𝐒𝐀𝐕𝐄 𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐓𝐄𝐀𝐑𝐒 | lee boedecker

A tale of your wicked deeds.

𝐍𝐈𝐂𝐊 𝐅𝐎𝐖𝐋𝐄𝐑 𝐆𝐈𝐅𝐒𝐄𝐓

By 𐀔 Alex 𐀔 @thecutestlittlebunbunfairy

𖥔 𝐁𝐔𝐍 𝐁𝐔𝐍'𝐒 𝐒𝐏𝐎𝐎𝐏𝐓𝐎𝐁𝐄𝐑 𝐂𝐎𝐋𝐋𝐄𝐂𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍 | masterlist

Spooky season stories heavily inspired by Hozier’s album, ‘Eat Your Young’

𖥔 𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐘 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐍𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓 | rockstar!sam/steve/bucky

When your friends invite you to a rock show and the drummer invites you back to his hotel room, you might get more than you bargained for yet…

By ✬ Astro ✬ @astrorogers

𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐏𝐔𝐑𝐑𝐅𝐄𝐂𝐓 𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑 | wanda maximoff

The Scarlet Witch has arrived which means her familiar must finally reunite with her.

𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐏𝐔𝐑𝐑𝐅𝐄𝐂𝐓 𝐇𝐀𝐋𝐋𝐎𝐖𝐄𝐄𝐍 | wanda maxinoff

Wanda teaches kitten about Halloween

𖥔 𝐒𝐀𝐃𝐈𝐒𝐓𝐈𝐂 𝐖𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐀 𝐀𝐒𝐊 | mistress!wanda maximoff

Mistress!Wanda x sub!kitten reader smut

© all works belong to the respective writers of the writers café server.

#alhaitham x reader #genshin fanfic #timothee chalamet x reader #steve rogers x reader #bucky barnes x reader #timothee chalamet smut #steve rogers smut #peter brenner x reader #lee bodecker x reader #lee bodecker smut #ransom drysdale x reader #ransom drysdale smut #sam wilson x reader #sam wilson smut #yelena belova x reader #druig x reader #makkari x reader #billy russo x reader #frank castle x reader #ari levinson x reader #carmen berzatto x reader #chris evans x reader #wanda maximoff x reader #writers cafe boost ☕️♡ #☕︎ october 2023 ☕︎ #writer’s cafe monthly masterlist

[rookthorne]

⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂ 𝐈𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐰𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐧

The longing for home, for the traditions you had cultivated as you grew into the young woman that you were today, made you troubled. You were confused for how you had missed such a mundane existence, when you had started anew with the monster that lurked in the shadows. It was just lucky, however, that this monster — the one you loved with all of your heart — was a crafty trickster, and he knew just how to bring you cheer on the Eve of Samhain.

჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻ 𝒑𝒂𝒊𝒓𝒊𝒏𝒈 𖤐 Monster!Bucky Barnes x F!Reader

჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻ 𝒘𝒐𝒓𝒅 𝒄𝒐𝒖𝒏𝒕 𖤐 2.5k

჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻ 𝒘𝒂𝒓𝒏𝒊𝒏𝒈𝒔 𖤐 Light angst, fluff

჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻ 𝒂𝒖𝒕𝒉𝒐𝒓 𝒏𝒐𝒕𝒆 𖤐 For my darling, @vonalyn — you gave me the inspiration for this, and you helped immensely with steering me in the right direction! I hope you enjoy. 💚

჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻ 𝒂𝒏𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒎𝒔 𖤐 Landing in the Dark by From the Mouth of the Sun 𖤐 Nature Boy (Acoustic) by AURORA 𖤐 The Deep, the Dark by Tamer 𖤐 Nátta by Munknörr

჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻ 𝒆𝒗𝒆𝒏𝒕 𖤐 @rookthorne's Fright Night — Masterlist

𝐊𝐞𝐞𝐩𝐞𝐫 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

From the bounds of the forest, you observed the village, the one you once called home. Bright, glowing fires lined the way between thatched cottages and stone walls, while people cheered and danced with one another. It was a glorious celebration – priests and their chanting, the calls for the ancestors to join them.

Each chant filled your bones with the yearning to dance, to take part, but the festivities picked and tore at your heart, for they were celebrating the very thing that kept you, and your other half, at bay. 

The rituals were performed as a rite of protection, forcing and warding off spirits and creatures with evil in their hearts. Bucky was no such creature – that you knew, he had taken such blessed care of you, but he dared not venture too close to the village again now that you were within his hold. 

There would be no way that he would take the risk of being tracked by foolish hunters. 

As a result, the both of you were shunned, forced to live the lives of outcasts — nothing more than the dirt under the villager’s worn shoes. 

You sighed heavily, crossing your arms across your chest as the chilled air nipped through your clothes. For days, Bucky had been treating the furs of the wolves he had slaughtered, and he was determined to bring you comfort, the warmth you craved. 

There was no way he would be able to keep you close for every passing moment of your time together – he had to hunt and provide, protect his territory and chase off otherworldly beasts to keep you safe. And he insisted that the addition of your own furs would help you feel more at home in his lair. 

Suddenly, heavy footfalls crunched the twigs and leaves behind you, but you did not startle. “Hello, Bucky.”

“Lamb, my sweet,” he said quietly, and then you heard the thump of him falling to all fours. “What are you doing all the way out here, are you-”

“I’m fine,” you rushed, interrupting him. “I just–” Blinking, you felt a tear run down your cheek and you hastened to wipe it away. “I do not know.”

Bucky hummed. There was a warmth at your back, and then, white ivory appeared in the corner of your vision. You turned your head slightly to see what he was doing, but you let out a small laugh, instead. Bucky had gone on all fours and daintily rested his chin on your shoulder; ever so careful of his antlers. 

The amber glow that had once filled Bucky’s eyes had changed into an icy blue – a reflection of his sorrow. “You are… troubled, little lamb.” Carefully, you placed your palm on the divot by his nose, and you brushed your thumb over the smooth bone. Bucky made a low noise in his throat and leaned into the contact. “What is troubling you?”

“Look,” you whispered, pointing towards the bright flames of the village. “They celebrate making us outcasts. I wish they would understand.” People dressed in the skin of animals flashed underneath the light of the fires. “I wish they understood that they were casting out the real protector.”

“I am only the protector of you, my sweet.” There was a huff of breath, like he was sighing out of frustration. You glanced sideways and caught a pensive glint in his light eyes. “I could not care less for what happens to those that inhabit your old home, not after how they treated you–for centuries, might I add.”

“Still,” you insisted. “It is not something that I am hiding, that I miss it. I miss the thatched cottage I grew up in–the memories.” Bucky looked at you from the corner of his eyes. “I speak the truth. Maybe I am just melancholy–aching for the comforts of my old home.”

“The traditions?” Bucky asked quietly.

You nodded and frowned slightly. “Yes.”

Bucky moved his head from your chin, and stood behind you. “I do not see why we cannot make new ones, Lamb.”

“What do you mean?” The breeze was cold as you turned to face Bucky, brow arched in question. “I do not understand-”

“I wish to make our own traditions–create something that you will enjoy for the years to come,” he explained, tilting his head slightly, as though lost in thought. “It would make you happy, would it not?”

A warmth – a kind of contentment, a feeling unlike any other, filled you. It made your heart, once so ladened and heavy with grief and longing, light once again. You smiled, widely, and looked into his eyes. “It would. It really would. When do we begin?”

Bucky’s mouth opened and his tongue ran along his teeth, the telltale sign of him grinning made your heart soar even higher. “Why not now? We can look for what we need, there will be plenty of things to use amongst the forest floor.” He moved over towards a thick grove of trees. “And I will use my teeth and claws to sharpen whatever you may need.”

“You are awfully excited,” you teased, following him carefully. The forest floor was still unventured territory for you, and you would rather avoid tripping and falling if you could help it. 

“And you are sad, my little one. I cannot have that, nor allow it,” Bucky said easily, turning around to lead the way. “Now, come. We have branches to find.”

The venture proved to be more enjoyable than you had expected. You merely had to point at the branches on a dead tree, or to the larger ones that lay strewn over the forest floor, and Bucky would pick them up and place them carefully on his antlers, carrying them the whole way. It was only when both his antlers and arms were full did he turn to you, almost exasperated. “Lamb, I think we have enough.”

You grinned and shook your head, pointing to one of the largest branches with your free hand – the small amount of bounty in your hands heavy. “I want that one, and then we can go back–back home to your lair.”

The fur on the back of Bucky’s neck raised a little at your words, and a shiver went down his spine. “Fine,” he said, huffing. “This is the last one. But I will never tire of hearing you call my lair home.”

“I bet you won’t,” you mumbled. Bucky just growled warningly as you skipped away. 

Upon arriving back to Bucky’s lair, you tipped the small bundle of branches in your arms onto the floor, just next to the crackling fire that he kept well stocked for you. “I think… Why don’t I make us chimes? Or, maybe, what about some catchers?”

Bucky walked into his lair, dragging the largest branch behind him. He tipped his head down into the far corner to rid his antlers of his bounty. “You make whatever your heart desires.” A solid thump sounded next to you, and you looked over at him – he was laying on the earth of his lair, looking up at you. 

The teeth on the sides of his elongated face shone with spit, and you watched, transfixed, as Bucky ran his tongue over his front fangs. “Would you stop that?” you asked, indignant. 

“Whatever do you mean?” he hummed, but he stopped all the same, and he eyed the larger branches. “Would you like me to–?”

“Yes, please,” you affirmed, glancing over at them. “That would be very helpful.” Bucky rose again and got to work, sharpening the branches into points with his claws and teeth. 

For hours, you sat by the fire and whittled a couple of catchers while Bucky finished working on all of the larger branches. It was a companionable, comfortable silence between the two of you. 

“Lamb, sweet,” Bucky said quietly, and you looked up from your lap towards him, to find he was already staring at you. “When I was young, I shed like any buck would. Since I was a beast that was hunted, I kept what I lost–lugging it around with me so no hunter could track me.”

You tilted your head, curious at where Bucky was taking this story. 

“And, over the aeons–the centuries, I have amassed quite a collection of old antlers and fangs,” he gestured to the impressive extensions, the few of many weapons at his disposal. “Would you–I mean, if you would want it, I can give you these parts of me to interweave with your creations. They would still have magic after all these years; they would add layers of protection.” 

“Oh, Bucky,” you gasped, hand over your heart. The implication of interweaving parts of your other half would no doubt bear an unrivalled amount of protection. 

“It will also make me happy if I were to see what you have created out there, parts of you and parts of me interlocked in something of beauty.” He looked down and flexed his hands; his claws shone like refined obsidian with the firelight. “Something you could be proud of–and part of.”

You rose from your spot by the fire and walked over to Bucky, eyes soft and kind. Without an inkling of hesitation, you took the sides of Bucky’s face in your hands, mindful of his teeth, and tilted his head up so you could stare into his eyes. “I would not love anything more.”

“Lamb,” he breathed, and his hand ever so gently cupped yours, the claws kissing your skin. “Oh, how I adore you.”

“It is nothing compared to how much I adore you,” you replied. Tilting his head down a little, you bent and placed a soft kiss between his eyes. 

The moon set beyond the horizon a few hours later. Bucky had encouraged you to work away at your creations until you had a round dozen, and he pledged to walk you through the forest, offering to help place the grounds of protection that you had created for your home. 

It was a brisk morning and you shuddered as you followed right behind Bucky, careful to stay on the path he was creating with his bulk through the brushes and thickets of brambles. “We are not far now,” he said quietly. 

You huffed and looked at his antlers, where the last two chimes hung, ready to be placed. “I should make you some for your antlers,” you mused aloud. 

Bucky looked at you sharply and rolled his eyes. “I draw the line there, Lamb. I need them free so I can protect you; protect us. There is also no way that I would risk destroying something you have made for me.” 

“Fine,” you sighed. “Still, I am going to.”

There was silence after your proclamation, and you smirked, victorious – you knew he would give in. 

“We are here,” Bucky said abruptly, and you ran into his back with a grunt of surprise. “Where would you like it, sweet?”

You looked around, adjusting the shawl over your shoulders for warmth. “How about,” you wondered aloud, looking at the tall pines surrounding you. There was a patch of space between a set of two pines, and a bare branch stuck out at an odd angle – if it were placed there, it would glint in the sun at midday. “Up there! It looks safe.”

Bucky followed your gaze and nodded once. “A fine choice, Lamb.” He stretched up a hand to his antlers and plucked the chime that had his fangs woven into the fibres, before he placed it carefully on the branch. The momentum made the chimes clink and shimmer in the stream of sunlight that suddenly appeared. “It is beautiful. Now, for the last one.”

The two of you set off once more, this time towards a clearing in the distance. Sounds and whispers echoed around you, the harsh sounds making the hair on the back of your neck stand on end, and you placed a hand on Bucky’s fur to ground yourself. “You are safe, sweet. I swear,” he murmured, slowing his pace. “It is just the forest spirits, it is Samhain–they are more mischievous than any other, you know they must investigate any being that passes.”

“Okay,” you mumbled, still resting a hand on Bucky’s fur. “I trust you.” 

Bucky’s hand brushed over your hair and down your back, a slight purr emanating from his chest. “Why don’t we find the last spot and then head home? You will need to sleep soon, Lamb.”

You nodded and looked around. The trees of this clearing seemed to be teeming with life, an unknown type of magic tinged the air, as well. A pine to your left bore the same qualities as the last, and for some reason, that singular tree felt more friendly. “Why not up there?” 

“I like it, sweets–come,” Bucky said quietly, and you followed him, of only a little hesitantly. “I would like you to place it. What do you think?”

“Me? How, I am on-” A gasp of shock interrupted your protest and your feet left the air. 

“I will help you, little one,” Bucky whispered, and he moved you through the air with such care you barely even felt the wind on your face. “Place it where you wish.”

With the utmost sense of caution, you carefully placed the twine over the branch of the tree, and it shuddered. You almost gasped with fear when a small face peered out from behind the foliage – a forest pixie. “Oh, my goodness,” you whispered. “I am so sorry-”

“Edna,” Bucky said suddenly, looking over your shoulder. “Hello, my friend.” 

The miniscule creature spoke, but there were no words, only small huffs and puffs of breath, followed by tiny squeaks. 

“How kind, thank you,” Bucky said softly, lowering you down gently to your feet. “We will leave you be. It was wonderful to see you again.”

Bucky urged you on, his hand never leaving your back as he walked a little ahead of you. “Who was that–what was that? And what did they say?”

“That was Edna–a forest guardian, a small but mighty creature. You never want to find yourself on the bad side of one of them,” he explained. The trail back home was familiar to you in parts, so Bucky slacked to walk on all fours. “She was saying to me that your chime was beautiful, and she adored it–very happy to have it as part of her tree.”

“Her tree?” you questioned. “Is that why that one felt–I mean, looked friendlier?”

Bucky nodded and looked at you. “Yes, and she has promised to return the favour. We may have guests soon.”

You blinked. “Oh, boy.” 

“Do not worry,” Bucky teased, and he gently bumped your shoulder with his. “I will help you. You will become a natural–the language is not hard, Lamb. I promise.”

“If you say so,” you murmured. The sense of excitement for meeting a new creature, a possible friend, lit a fire within you – it was quite lonely in the woods, though you loved Bucky’s company, but a friend would never be amiss. Not if they loved your chimes, you decided. 

And, with that, you resolved to spend your time perfecting your craft – as well as making Bucky fetch more branches. Just to spite the devil, you laughed inwardly. 

who loves the idea of lil' forest friends? 🥹

⠈⠂⠄ 𝐢𝐧𝐛𝐨𝐱 | 𝐥𝐢𝐛𝐫𝐚𝐫𝐲 | 𝐚𝐨𝟑  ⠄⠂⠁

⠈⠂⠄𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 | 𝐜𝐨𝐥𝐥𝐞𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬 ⠄⠂⠁

#bucky barnes x female reader #bucky barnes x f!reader #bucky barnes x reader #bucky x female reader #bucky x f!reader #bucky x reader #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes oneshot #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes fluff #rookthorne's works

[thatsmzbitchtoyou]

The Temptation Chapter 1

Here's the Priest!Bucky fic! I hope y'all like it. Warnings: eventual smut; religion (yes it's a warning); mentions of past sexual assault

“Father Barnes, I have some unfortunate news.”

Bucky turned towards his senior priest, Father Richards.  “Yes?”

“Constance Y/L/N has just passed away.”

“Oh,” Bucky’s eyebrows furrowed as he processed the news.  “How sad.  I mean, she was getting up there in age but, still, a great loss.”

“Yes, it is.  Her funeral arrangements will be handled by her granddaughter, Y/N Y/L/N.  She should be landing into town tomorrow, I was hoping you would be willing to pick her up at the airport and bring her to Constance’s home, then schedule a meeting about the arrangements and the service?”

“Of course, Father.”

That’s where Bucky found himself now, waiting in the baggage claim area of the airport with a sign in his hand that had her name written on it.  He had no idea what she looked like or knew anything about her.  As he looked around, waiting patiently, a woman came through the door that made him do a double take.  She was beautiful, short and curvy, dressed in a long black dress that she kept stepping on, covered by an oversized, long, black and ripped sweatshirt that read “WOMEN RUN SHIT” in red embroidery, Converse sneakers that peeked from under her dress, with long pointy nails and her pink hair piled atop her head, held up by a black scarf.  She had very little makeup on except for a dark, blood red lipstick that Bucky couldn’t seem to stop staring at.  She looked around until her eyes fell on Bucky, read the sign, and gave him a polite smile as she headed towards him.  Bucky gave her a polite smile back as he tried to hide the panic he was feeling inside.   

“Father Barnes?” Y/N asked as she approached him.

“Yes, Y/N Y/L/N?”

“That’s me,” she flashed him a full smile, making her teeth look stark against her lipstick.  

“Is this all you have?” Bucky asked, looking at the purse and backpack slung over her shoulders and the large rolling suitcase she had.

“Yep, don’t have much.  Thank you for the ride.  I haven’t been to Brooklyn since I was a kid and I just didn’t wanna deal with the hassle of a taxi or Uber.”

“It’s no problem.”

Bucky tried hard to not stare at her or even look at her too much.  He had been a priest at his parish for 15 years, and had never had a moment where he felt like he was being led astray, like he’d always been warned about during his seminary years.  He felt secure in his promises and covenants to the church and to God.  And yet here was this woman, who just waltzed into his life on a chance, who he was feeling something very strange towards that made him question his life.  And he didn’t even know her.  Sinful.

“So what do you do for a living?” Bucky tried to break the ice as he drove silently, weaving through the New York traffic as best as he could.

“I’m a traveling photographer,” Y/N said as she watched the buildings and bridges fly by.  

“Really?  That’s interesting.  How did you get into that?” he asked.

“Um, it just kinda fell into my lap, I guess,” Y/N answered, giving him a glance.  “I grew up in Brooklyn, went to the church and everything with my grandmother, but at 16 I decided it wasn’t for me and went through a bit of a rough patch for a while.  Started taking pictures as I went from place to place, posting online, and gained a following.  Here I am, 16 years later, getting paid to go places and take pictures and give travel advice.”

“Wow,” Bucky breathed.  “Where’s your favorite place you’ve been?

“Well, traveling as a plus sized person has its challenges,” she started, shifting in her seat.  “The place that I felt most comfortable was the Leeward Islands, so Bora Bora, Tahiti, those areas of French Polynesia.”

“Very tropical,” Bucky commented.

“Ha, yes,” she giggled.  “A big reason why I loved it.”  She paused and looked at him.  “Have you ever been on a beach like that?”

“No,” Bucky answered.  “A beach at a lake when I was a kid, but nothing quite as pretty as crystal blue waters,” he glanced at her, giving her a lopsided smile.

“Hm,” Y/N watched him, a sad expression flitting across her face.  “That’s too bad.  There’s really nothing like it.”  She paused again, a mischievous grin pulling at her lips.  “A pretty thing like you on a sandy beach in Bora Bora would do wonders with the locals.”

Bucky’s eyes widened at her compliment.  He cleared his throat and swallowed as he tried to relax the blush that filled his cheeks.  “Thank you for the compliment.”

“Anytime, handsome,” she teased him, huffing out a laugh at his expense.

Bucky wasn’t blind to the fact that he had attractive features.  He’d been hit on too many times to count by the women, and some of the men, in his congregation throughout the years.  Some tried harder than others, the idea of a forbidden love or lust-driven “corrupting the priest” sounding appealing.  He’d been able to squash those easily.  He could of course see or recognize when people were attractive, and occasionally had the fleeting thought of “what if?”  But it sounded different coming from her for some reason.  

“I mean really, if the priests looked like you when I was in church I would have paid more attention.”

She said it in such a deadpan tone that Bucky couldn’t help but to fully laugh.  She joined him in laughing as they finally pulled up to her grandmother’s brownstone home.  Bucky helped her hoist her large luggage up the stairs.  Y/N grabbed the key from the hidden spot that the estate lawyer had told her about and let herself and Bucky in.  She wheeled the luggage off to the side as she looked around the foyer.

“Almost exactly the same,” she muttered.

“Y/N–”

“You know, it’s just very strange for me to call you Father,” Y/N interrupted him as she whirled around to face him.  “What’s your first name?”

Bucky’s eyebrows shot up.  “Oh, um, it’s James, but I always went by Bucky.”

“Bucky?” Y/N repeated it, looking confused.

Bucky silently reveled in how she said his name.  “My middle name is Buchanan, don’t ask me why,” he joked, making her snort.  “Bucky for short.  I just always went by that rather than James when I was younger.”

“Well is it alright if I call you Bucky?” Y/N asked hopefully.

Bucky really should have said no, that it’s not appropriate for people to call him by his name rather than his title.  Yet he found himself saying, “Yes.”

“Great.  I’m sorry I interrupted you, what were you going to say?” 

“Well, my senior priest, Father Richards and I would like to set up a meeting with you to go over the funeral arrangements.  When would you like to do that?”

“Sure, um…” Y/N got distracted by something in the foyer.  Bucky followed her eye line to the large cross her grandmother had mounted above the door.  She sighed heavily before meeting his gaze.  “How about tomorrow?  10 a.m.?”

“That sounds great,” Bucky agreed.  “Well, is there anything else I could help you with while I’m here?”

“No, thank you.  You’ve been very helpful,” Y/N gave him a tight lipped smile.  “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Great, see you then.”  Bucky turned away and out the door, unable to handle being in such a close space with her anymore.

As he got back into the parish car and drove back to the church he heaved a heavy sigh of his own.  This is going to be dangerous.

***

The next morning Bucky found himself taking more time to get ready.  He was trimming his beard, redoing his hair in a bun and repeatedly straightening out his Roman collar and his shirt.  He knew why he was doing it but was in deep denial.

Father Richards was waiting in the main office as Bucky went out to the sanctuary to see if Y/N had shown up yet.  When he walked in he easily found her sitting on one of the pews.  Today she wore a long, fluffy cardigan with a sports bra and flowy lounge pants.  She wore no makeup and her hair looked like she’d just rolled out of bed.  

“Good morning, Y/N,” Bucky greeted her as he approached.

Y/N was staring at the large cross at the front of the sanctuary with the statue of Jesus hanging on it.  Her eyes slowly turned to him, a frown on her face that she tried to hide quickly.

“Good morning, Bucky,” she greeted him, her voice sounding scratchy.  “I’m sorry I look a mess, the jet lag is making me feel rough.”

“I understand, it’s alright,” Bucky gestured for her to follow him.

He led her back into the hallways of the church until they reached the main priest’s office.  Y/N paused for a moment outside the office door as Bucky held it open for her, before she inhaled quickly and stepped through the door.

“Miss Y/L/N, my name is Father Richards,” Richards held his hand out, which she stiffly shook.  “I’m sorry we couldn’t meet under more pleasant circumstances.  May I offer my deepest condolences to you.”

“Thank you,” Y/N said somberly.  She sat on the chair in front of the large wooden desk.  Her eyes settled on one scuffed spot on the desk as Father Richards and Bucky sat across from her.

“So, let’s get started,” Father Richards began.  “I’m sure you know your grandmother was a big supporter of the church.  She gave us some of our largest donations over her lifetime.  She had some instructions she left with me but I wanted to make sure everything sounded good to you before I enacted them, or if there was something left in her will that I wasn’t aware of?”

“The will and everything else is stuck in probate court right now,” Y/N answered, her tired eyes trying to focus on him.  “So honestly, whatever she told you is fine.  Doesn’t really matter to me.”

“I see,” Father Richards said, sounding a little annoyed.  Bucky glanced at him.

“Please don’t mistake my indifference for not caring,” Y/N retorted.  “I loved my grandmother, I just didn’t love her religion.  And that caused a rift between us.  I haven’t seen or spoken to her in years, so I was pretty surprised when I got a call from a lawyer in New York telling me she’d died and left me everything,” she continued, her words getting more curt by the second.  “No offense to either of you but me being here is highly triggering.  So is there anything else you need from me?”

“Uh, yes,” Richards tried to recover the conversation, his tone sounding more jovial.  “She did ask that you sing at her funeral.”  

“Absolutely not,” Y/N spat, her eyes narrowing as she minutely shook her head.

“Oh, well, I mean that’s what she wrote here–”

“No.”  

Bucky watched on in concern.  He knew the church came with a lot of baggage for some people, that its history was unclean.  He worried about what this would mean for them as she worked with them for this funeral.

“Hm, of course you don’t have to, but she always said how you had a lovely singing voice–”

“I said no,” she seethed.  “Now if you’ll excuse me,” she stood suddenly, Bucky and Father Richards copying her.  “I need to go.  Just call me if you need something else.”  She rummaged into her cardigan pocket, pulling out a wallet and taking out a business card, flinging it at them on the desk.  “Good day.”

She turned on her heel and hightailed it out of the office.  Father Richards and Bucky exchanged a bewildered look.  “Go,” Father Richards instructed.

Bucky jogged out of the office to catch up to Y/N.  “Y/N, please wait!”

Y/N sighed loudly as she turned back around to Bucky.  “I’m sorry for my rudeness, I just can’t stay here,” she said, continuing to walk away. 

“Hey,” he jogged around her until he faced her.  “Obviously there’s some deep problems you have with the church.”

“No shit Sherlock,” she dodged him, heading towards the front doors.

“And I don’t blame you!” Bucky walked alongside her.  “There have been bad things that have happened in its history.”

Y/N stopped abruptly as she rounded on him.  “To ME!” she pointed a finger towards herself.  Bucky stopped, his eyes widening at her.  She was shaking as she tried to calm herself.  She took a deep breath and a step back from him.  “I appreciate that the church has given you comfort, peace, a purpose maybe, but I grew up here,” she paused, stopping herself from crying.  “Father Carmine was here before you two, right?”  Bucky nodded his head slowly as he watched her.  “He hurt me.”

Bucky felt his heart plummet.  He had met Father Carmine many years ago as he and Father Richards were transferred in to replace him.  He had had an amazing rapport with the community, his congregation seemed to love him.  Now Bucky knew the reason for his sudden retirement.

Y/N scoffed.  “That notch on the desk?  In the office?  That’s from the heel of my shoe,” she took a step closer to him as she peered up at him, a fury in her eyes that made him feel like withering on the spot.  “My Mary Jane shoes, from my school uniform, when I was 15 years old.”  Bucky felt like he was going to throw up as he digested this information.  “So you’ll have to excuse me, if coming here to the place where I was abused and then unbelieved by the woman who raised me who I now have to bury, is dredging up some pretty raw emotions in me right now.”  Y/N was whispering now, her eyes filling with tears as she glared at him.  “Every cross, every Jesus statue, every rosary, every goddamn Roman collar,” her eyes flickered to his neck, “reminds me of that day.  So the fact that my grandmother was willing to still hold her funeral here in this godforsaken place, and then have the audacity to throw her money at me and ask me to sing?”  Y/N shivered violently as she grunted.  “I can’t…”

Bucky didn’t know what to do as he watched her fight off an oncoming panic attack.  “Y/N, hey…look,” he started to take off his Roman collar.  She watched him hesitantly.  “See?  Look, just me.  Not Father Barnes, not Father anything, just Bucky.”  He held his hands up towards her in a sign of meaning no harm.  “Constance was extremely devout, for sure,” Y/N scoffed again, rolling her eyes.  “But that was no excuse for her not to believe you,” he took a step forward.  Y/N’s eyes narrowed at him.  “You deserved to be believed.  You deserved justice, and you never got it.  I’m so sorry,” he took another step until he could reach out and hold her arms.  He lowered his face so he was eye level with her.  “I’m so sorry for what happened to you.  You didn’t deserve it, no one deserves that.” Y/N’s tears finally fell as she shook in his hands.  “And I’m sorry for Father Richards pushing you, he’s a very…no nonsense, regimented kind of guy.  But he should have taken your refusal the first time.”  He squeezed her arms and she took a shaky breath.  “We’ll follow her instructions, get through the funeral, and then you can be done with this place.  And go enjoy a long vacation on a beach in Bora Bora for me.”

Y/N laughed at that, her smile finally breaking the sadness etched in her face.  She wiped her eyes as Bucky dropped his hands from her.  He felt like his palms were stinging from the sensation of touching her.  “Thank you, Bucky,” she sniffed.  

“No problem,” he smiled at her.  “I know this isn’t a great place for you, but I hope you know that I believe you, and I’m here for you.”

Y/N gave him a long look, her eyes roaming his face momentarily.  She nodded and turned to leave, then suddenly turned back around and walked up to him.  She wound her arms around his waist and gave him a hug, squeezing him.  He barely had a chance to hug her back before she stepped away and walked out of the front doors.  Bucky watched her leave, already missing the way she smelled.

**picture if from Pinterest, it's A.I. so there's no "artist" or "creator"**

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes fanfic #bucky barnes x reader #marvel #smut #priest!bucky barnes x reader #priest!bucky barnes #chapter 1

[shamrockqueen]

Pink demon : pretty in pink Halloween (hot neighbor Bucky x reader)

The Succubus Part Three : Succubus reader X Bucky (puritan period piece AU)

Holy is the lamb - Chapter 1 : Dark Priest Bucky x Innocent Nun reader (demon possession/AU)

Stud : Vintage erotica AU/Ari Levinson X reader

Caged : werewolf Cain Burgess x reader (AU)

I’ve taken a few down to lighten my work load. The twice a week posting was a long shot for me so I’ll take that into consideration for the future that if I want to do a marathon of kinktober fics that I have to prepare better ahead of time.

#kinktober #october #halloween #happy halloween #bucky barnes #fanfiction #fanfic #fanfics #smut #james bucky buchanan barnes #ari levinson #bucky x reader #sebastian stan #bucky x you #bucky smut #ransom drysdale #ransom x reader #curtis everett #Werewolf Curtis Everett #kinktober list #halloween fic #halloween fics #pretty in pink

[sunshinebuckybarnes]

Happy April lovelies 🌸 Another month, another rec list! Please make sure you give these gorgeous stories and writers the love they deserve. As always, you are responsible for your own media consumption. This blog along with the majority tagged are 18+ only and contain adult themes.

Happy reading 💕

Bucky Barnes ✨

Just let me see them by @kinanabinks

mob!bucky x best friend!reader

Miss me by @sidepartskinnyjeans

Vampire Rockstar Bucky! x Reader

Love like a bruise by @targaryenvampireslayer

Dark!TWD!Bucky Barnes x female reader

Insatiable by @navybrat817

Bucky Barnes x female reader

Though I have never read it by @tuiccim

Winter Soldier Bucky Barnes x Female!Reader

Ari Levinson ✨

Say my name by @lunarbuck

Ari Levinson x f!reader

Skin by @flordeamatista

dbf!ari levinson x reader

Don't get sad, get even by @writing-for-marvel

Boyfriend’s Roommate!Ari Levinson x Fem!Reader

Melting by @onsunnyside

Mafia!Ari Levinson x lovesick!reader

After hours by @flordeamatista

ceo!silverfox!ari levinson x personal assistant!reader

Steve Rogers ✨

Finding home by @navybrat817

Lumberjack!Steve Rogers x Female Reader

His inheritance by @jtargaryen18

Mobster Steve Rogers x Mobster daughter reader

Deny me by @straywords

Dom!Steve Rogers x Bratty! Reader

Unholy by @straywords

Dark! Priest! Steve x Reader

Ride with me by @flordeamatista

biker!steve rogers x reader

Breathe me by @honeystevie

40s!Steve Rogers x Filipina!reader

Steve Harrington ✨

Moments tucked away by @talesofesther

Steve Harrington x Reader

Eddie Munson ✨

Forevermore by @jobean12-blog

Vampire!Eddie Munson x reader

Multiple characters ✨

The perfect life by @sweater-daddiesdumbdork

Dark!Steve x You x Dark!Bucky

Traditional by @navybrat817

Bucky Barnes x Female Reader x Steve Rogers

Fuck up the friendship by @summerofsnowflakes

College!SoccerPlayer!Bucky Barnes x Fem!Reader and College!SoccerPlayer!Steve x Fem!Reader

#march fic rec #fic rec #bucky barnes #ari levinson #steve rogers #eddie munson #steve harrington

[bucky-barnes-diaries]

Amen

Pairing || Beefy!CatholicPriest!Bucky x Inexperienced!Innocent!Virgin!Female!Reader

Summary || Your parents invite Father James to your home for dinner. Throughout his stay, he just can’t seem to keep his hands to himself…

Word Count || 3817

Contents & Warnings || Smut, Dark/Taboo Themes — NSFW, 18+ Only, Minors DNI, non-con, religious themes, blasphemy of religion, sacrilegious acts, biblical references, sexual content involving a catholic priest, strict/religious parents, explicit content/language, age-gap (reader is early 20’s, Bucky is early/mid 30’s), sexual thoughts and acts, pet names (baby, sweet thing) Father kink, size kink, corruption kink, authority kink, semi-public, inappropriate/forceful touches, hand over mouth, vaginal touches, fingering, teasing, begging, degrading/shaming, praising, orgasm denial, orgasm, mention of bodily fluids.

Authors Note || We’re only starting to scratch the surface for what this man is gonna do to you ;P

Disclaimer || English is not my first language so I apologise for any mistakes or misunderstandings!

Priest!Bucky Masterlist

I don’t do taglists anymore so please follow @bucky-barnes-diaries-library and turn on notifications to never miss out on my writing!

A tradition you and your parents had kept for years was to invite the priest of your small town over for dinner once a week. Even though Father Jacob, who had been a highly respected priest in the community for years, had retired, your parents still wanted to keep the tradition going with the new priest, Father James, who happily accepted the invitation.

On the day of the dinner, you and your mother worked hard from early morning to prepare for the three-course meal you'd have tonight with your special guest. Once the house was clean, and all the food had been prepared, you had 30 minutes to get ready for your guest. You took a shower to freshen yourself up from the day's work, feeling relaxed and content once you were done.

Clad in your cotton white panties and matching bra, you walked to the closet to find something to wear. Scanning through the dresses, you wanted to find a perfect one that showed off some skin but was still respectable. You wanted to look pretty for Father James but also keep your daddy happy by looking presentable.

As you looked through the dresses, you started to slip into one of your daydreams again…

You'd developed such a hard crush on your priest—sinning and dreaming of him every night, wishing to run away with him and live happily ever after, just the two of you. To have him teach you about life and explore with him every desire that had taken over your mind the last couple of days.

There was a knock on your bedroom door, pulling you out of your fantasy world.

“Honey, are you in there?”

“Yes, mother.”

“Do you need any help with getting ready?”

“No, mother, but thank you.”

You shook your head to get your mind back on track—find the perfect dress to wear.

Ah, this would be perfect to wear.

It was a beautiful white dress with lovely red flowers scattered on the thin material. It stopped mid-thigh. The shoulder straps were thin, exposing your shoulders and clavicles, while the shoulder puffs lay comfortable and beautifully down your upper arms. The dress gave away just the right amount while still keeping it classy and honourable.

You didn't go too heavy with the makeup—approximately the same amount as you did for Sunday church when you first met Father James.

Once you were done, you checked the clock on your nightstand; the time read 5.54 PM. Father James would be here any minute now. With one last look in the full-length mirror, you gave yourself a nod of approval of all the elements combined, making you look cute and presentable.

As you went down the stairs, the doorbell rang, chiming throughout the house that there was a guest at the door—Father James.

“Honey, will you get that?” Your mom called for you.

“Yes, mother!”

A tingling sensation overcame you that you would soon, in just a matter of seconds, be in his powerful presence once again. You'd craved to be in his proximity every waking moment since the last time you saw him in the confessional.

You walked to the front door, slight wobbly in your legs, and took a deep breath in and out to compose yourself. A sweet and welcoming smile was plastered on your face as you opened the door.

When you opened it, it was like a bright light of beauty, sex and grace hit you hard, your eyes becoming bewitched by him. There he stood, looking gorgeous as always with that luxurious hair and that beautiful face. That signature smirk of his had you feeling weak in the knees. An inaudible moan escaped as you exhaled. His broad and massive frame towered over you, and all you could think about was climbing him like a tree.

“Hello,” he said with a light chuckle. He must have noticed your slight absent state.

You shook your head mentally to try and pull yourself out of the trance.

“Oh, h-hello, Father. Welcome, and come on in.”

“Thank you.”

He did a slight bow and entered. You moved aside so that he could get through the door, and you closed it after. When you turned around, he was right behind you with a sinister smile on his face.

“Oh, wow, you look mighty gorgeous today, young lady, very pretty.”

Your eyes peered up at him—so sweet and innocent as you slightly tilted your head to the side. The back of his finger lightly traced your cheek while his tongue poked out to lick his lips. His beautiful blue eyes displayed the same dark cloud of evil and wickedness in them as the last time you saw them.

That simple touch almost had you faint. You wondered what would happen when he had his full touch on you, forcing his hand on your body.

It felt like an eternity as you stood there in the foyer, fantasising about standing on your tippy-toes, snaking your hand in his soft hair and pulling him down for a kiss while he held your waist in a tight grip and pulled you flush against his big frame, but it had only been a few seconds of your time.

“Hello, Father, welcome to our home.”

It was your dad.

Father James quickly retracted his hand from you and put on a respectable smile before he turned around to greet your dad.

“Greetings. Thank you for having me,” they shook hands, “I was just complimenting the outside of your house to your daughter. It's lovely.”

Was that what we were doing?

Your dad put on one of those fake, over-the-top laughs, clearly wanting to make an impression on Father James. It was rather annoying.

“Why, thank you, Father. Please,” he gestured into the living room, “we can take a seat in here.”

Your mother stood by the coffee table like a good and honourable housewife. On the table were some lovely appetisers to munch on and some refreshing lemonade to drink while waiting on the main course to be finished in the oven. You found your seat on the sofa. Father James sat on the other end of it, farthest away from you. You wanted to scooch closer so you could sit thigh by thigh.

Your parents sat on different armchairs on the opposite side of the small table.

“You have a lovely home, ma’am.” Father James complimented.

“Oh, please, Father, call me by my first name.”

You all engaged in conversation while waiting. It was mostly your dad talking—asking and quizzing Father James on where he lived previously, what his interests were and how he was settling into our small community. He also spoke about his own interests and hobbies and how it was to work at the police station. You and your mom chimed in every once in a while.

After a few minutes of talking, the oven sounded that the main course was ready to be served.

Everyone takes their seat at the table, your mom and dad on one side, while you are seated next to Father James on the other. The food looked and smelled delicious—making your mouth water. You were so hungry, but it wasn't allowed to eat before a prayer had been said.

“Father James, would you please bless our food?” Your dad asked.

“Of course.”

Father James presented his hand to you so you could hold it. Your heart was thumping against your chest as your hand came in contact with his—sparks and tingling feelings lined your nerves as you touched skin. Your small hand fit so perfectly in his bigger one. You wanted to stay in his grasp forever.

When everyone had found each other's hand, you all closed your eyes in preparation for the prayer.

“Thank You, Lord God, for this food we are about to eat. Thank You for the hands that have prepared it, for those sitting around the table who are here to share it….”

While Father James was praying, he suddenly released your hand from his. You furrow your eyebrows, wondering why he let go when the praying wasn't over yet. Suddenly, you feel a hand, his colossal hand, taking a grasp on your naked upper thigh. You jolt slightly from the chair at the unexpected surprise, an inaudible gasp emitting from you. Father James never fumbles over his words while all of this is happening under the table, your parents utterly oblivious to what's unfolding.

Any other person would most likely get up in disgust at such an inappropriate touch, but you craved and needed his forceful hands on you. You had wanted more of his delicious touch since that interaction while taking Holy Communion at Sunday’s mass.

He inches higher up, your skin feeling electrified, where he goes over with his palm, and when his thumb swipes the edge of your panties, you quickly shut your legs on his hand and grab the edge of the table with your free hand.

No, he couldn't?

He couldn't be touching you like that.

Not while your parents were right here. That would be taking it too far.

But it didn't seem like he cared where you were because he pried your legs open with his hand and gave you a light tap on the inside of your thigh as a warning not to do that again.

You obliged, not wanting to make a scene in front of your parents.

You bite your bottom lip hard, drawing blood, and shut your eyes even harder when the pad of his thumb finds your pleasure pearl through your now-soaked panties. He circles it in small teasing circles, building momentum with each stroke. You want to touch your body all over while his hand focuses on your most sensitive area. You want to moan and cry in pleasure as he touches you so heavenly, but you have to be dead silent, dead still.

All while this is happening, he never stops praying, almost seeming unbothered by the sinful acts he's performing on you underneath the table—like this is something he does daily.

Your toes curl in your shoes as he pleases you—circling your tingling nub in the most perfect and satisfying way. You’re so close—chasing that incredible euphoria that feels like heaven.

Please don't stop. Please don't stop. Please don't stop. Keep going, Father.

You beg of him in your mind, hoping that he’ll somehow be able to hear you.

“... we sit here as evidence of Your goodness. Thank You for the gift of today and all who are here to share it with us. In the name of Your Son, Jesus, we pray. Amen.”

“... Amen,” it sounds across from you.

His hand retracts from between your legs, and his sinful touches come to a halt. Your pleasure stopped and denied, and you whine out at the loss of him. You didn't want it to end and without thinking, forgetting where you were for a split second, you cross your legs and start humping to try and find your sweet release.

“Honey!” Your mother calls for you.

With a gasp, you stop and open your eyes to find your parents staring at you with questioning faces. Father James hides a smirk on his face, but you see that slight wickedness in his expression—that he’d managed to make you so flustered with pleasure. Your face was horrified that they noticed what you were doing.

“W-wh-what?”

“You didn't say Amen.”

Oh, thank the heavens!

They luckily hadn't any suspicion.

“I-I'm so sorry. I was just really into the prayer Father James held.” You hated lying, but it was what was needed in this situation.

“Thank you, Lord, Amen.”

“It's ok, sweetheart. It's good that you felt the Lord’s presence.” Your dad said.

More like the Devil.

“Alright, let's eat,” your mom announced.

Throughout the whole dinner, you mostly stayed silent, only speaking when you were spoken to. Your head was slightly bowed in shame and somewhat angry as you ate. Your mouth mostly remained in a thin line.

You felt so resentful towards Father James for leaving you so unsatisfied. He controlled the prayer. He could have kept it going for a few more seconds so you could find your sweet release, but he had chosen cruelty towards you.

“This was a delicious dinner. Thank you so much for inviting me to your lovely home and company.”

“Ah, well, we have the girls to thank for such a blessed meal. They've been at it since this morning,” your dad said proudly.

“Well, thank you, ladies,” he looked at you both, “this was excellent.”

“Thank you, Father James.” Your mom felt so honoured by the compliment.

All you did was smile at him.

“Well, should we proceed to the living room again for dessert? I'll get it fixed right up. Honey, why don't you sit with Father James? Keep him company?”

“O-ok.”

“I’ll go and see if I can find that collection I mentioned earlier to you, Father.”

Your mom went to the kitchen to prepare the dessert. Your dad went to your messy garage to try and find whatever it was he needed. While you were tasked to keep Father James company for the time being.

You went to the living room and sat on the sofa. Father James finding his place beside you. Due to the weight of him, the cushion dipped, pulling you slightly down with it. Your naked thigh came in contact with his clothed one, and your shoulders bumped. You were wide-eyed, not sure how to react? If you should politely move away or keep your ground? You decided to listen to your body, screaming at you to stay instead of your conscious.

You were so nervous—practically shaking at having him sit so close. What were you going to talk about? What were you going to say? Luckily Father James was quick to strike up a conversation, facing you.

“So, tell me, young lady, what do you like to do around here?”

You were raised to always look at the person you were talking to, but with Father James, it was impossible to look for too long—with his captivating good looks and enchanting eyes. Every once in a while, you looked down at your twiddling hands to not fall into his devil trance.

“O-o-oh, w-well, I, um… There's not much to do in this small town. Most of my friends have gone off to college, a-and the few that remain, we usually just hang out whenever we can.”

“Why haven't you gone off to college?”

“Um… I-I'm not really sure what I want to do yet, so I'm just living at home and helping my mother around the house whenever I can.”

“And… you and your friends… what do you like to do?”

“We hang out at each other's houses, watching movies or reading books, a-and sometimes just talking about life and God.”

“And uh…” Father James turned his head towards the kitchen to see if your mom was still turned with her back to the living room. She was. Father James then placed his colossal hand on your upper thigh like he'd done previous—digging his nails delicately into your soft skin. You gasped at his touch, closing your eyes as his thumb caressed the flesh of your inner thigh.

“... and… is there someone you like in town? A boy, maybe?” His voice dropped an octave as he whispered in your ear. His lips skim the shell of them. The sound of his low and raspy voice has tingling shivers trickle down your spine.

“N-no… I-I mean y-yes.” Your voice was barely above a whisper as you fumbled with your words as he inched his way higher up your skin, just like at the dinner table.

“I-I'm interested in so-someone, b-but it's no one m-my age. I-it’s someone much older.”

“Is this the same one you told me about in the confession? The same one you think about when you play with your sweet little pussy at night?”

“Y-yes.”

“Who is it? Is it me, sweet girl?”

“P-please, Father, I-I can't say.”

“Oh, it's me; I know it is. You're such a little whore for fantasising about a man of God in that way.”

He cups you over your soaked panties, his palm putting pressure on your bundle of nerves. You can't help it when a loud whiny moan escapes you.

“Shhh.. sweet thing,” his other palm clasps over your mouth to keep you quiet and to manoeuvre your head so you'd keep looking straight at him—straight into his possessed eyes, “we don't want your parents to hear what a dirty little girl you are, now do we?”

You shook your head no. It would be scandalous if they knew what was happening to their sweet and pure daughter.

Your eyes were pleading for more now that your voice had been taken from you—for him to proceed with his forceful touches on your innocence.

Finally, his hand went into your panties from above. A raspy groan formed in his throat as his fingers came in direct contact with your wetness.

“Fuck… you don't know how long I've wanted to touch you, sweet thing. How much I've wanted to defile this innocent little cunt of yours. This is just the beginning. I have so many plans for you. For us.”

Your heart was thumping in your chest from fear and excitement as his middle finger teased your entrance—toying with you. You grabbed his clothed thigh to brace yourself—digging your nails into the material.

A muffled scream sounded against his palm as he forced his finger into your warm tightness—stretching you out.

“So wet you are for me, dirty girl.”

It was kind of painful to begin with—his fingers were longer and thicker than yours. Your eyes were becoming glossy with tears each time his finger drove into you. His thumb circling your bundle of nerves managed to ease some of the discomfort. Your cries of pain and pleasure were drowned out by his hand on you—making it impossible to ask him to stop or plead for more.

Slowly it became more bearable, more enjoyable, your hole accommodating his digit gradually with each stroke.

His eyes were fixated on you the entire time—watching your innocent, sweet eyes react to his sinful and sacrilegious acts. Every once in a while, he would flicker them to the kitchen to ensure your mom was still preoccupied with the dessert.

“Do you think you can take one more?”

A second finger teased your entrance—wanting to penetrate you, to fill up your innocent hole even more.

You shook your head no. A single tear fell down your cheek. You couldn't. It would be too much, too painful.

But he pushed the tip of it in slowly, and you closed your legs hard around his hand, trapping him while shaking your head once again.

“It's ok, sweet thing. I won't be cruel towards you. Not this time, ok?” He wiped your tear gently. “Open them up for me again, yeah?”

You nodded in acknowledgement and opened them once more for him to continue his devil work.

“We’ll take it slow for now. Work you up to it.”

He continued driving his single digit in and out of your tight wetness and circling your tingling bundle of nerves with his colossal thumb. Your pleasure started building up, and with a sudden curl to his finger, he made you see stars as you’d never done before. Your eyes rolled to the back of your head as he kept stimulating that delicious spot inside you. You'd fingered yourself multiple times before, but it’d never come as close to this euphoric sensation. Your inexperienced fingers were no match to such expert ones that seemed to know all the ins and outs of a woman.

“There it is, huh?

Your hand went over his that was working on you—not wanting him to stop the devil work he possessed as he made you feel so insatiable good. Your soft mewls of pleasure were muffled by his hand. You started rocking back and forth on the sofa, chasing your orgasm.

“Such a desperate and needy girl you are, huh? Are you gonna come for me, sweet little thing?”

You nodded your head furiously; You were so close. As close as you were at the dinner table, only this time you hoped he would give you what you wanted, what you craved and needed—release.

“Do it. Let go. Let go all over my finger.”

An explosion hit you hard as a delicious out-of-this-world sensation travelled through the nerves lining your whole body—making you convulse on the spot. You felt like passing out at how hard it hit you—your eyes fluttering shut while a few tears rolled down your cheek, your toes curling at the intensity. All while this was happening, while you had this extreme reaction, Father James never stopped his finger using and abusing your hole. Never stopped his delicious stimulation on your precious, tingling pearl.

“Good girl. Such a good girl you are for me.” His praises came through gritted teeth. His tone was deep and sinister, like Satan himself.

He stilled inside your panties when he felt you’d had enough. An animalistic groan sounded from him as he graced your temple with his lips, leaving a delicate kiss on your skin. You whined against his palm when his touches disappeared. Your hole contracting in desperate need for more. You closed your legs to try and stop the aching you were feeling.

When he removed his hand from your mouth, you inhaled and exhaled the pure air. You wanted to say something, but your lips were trembling. Your body was still in shock from the intense orgasm.

“Mmm… speechless now, are we? Was it that good, baby?”

All you could do was nod your head yes. You wanted to thank him, praise him, and give back to him for making you feel like that. But there was no time to recover and show your appreciation because your mom was now coming in with the dessert, and you could hear your dad close the door to the garage.

“I hope you all have some room for dessert?” Your mom asked cheerfully as she walked out of the kitchen.

Father James moved away from you slightly to make things a little less suspicious. You wiped the wetness from your cheeks and fixed your dress. Clearing your throat of any pleasure lace into it and putting on a sweet and innocent smile on your face—making it seem like everything was normal and that Father James definitely hadn’t just defiled you in this religious household.

“Oh, maybe just a small bite,” Father James said while putting the finger that had just been inserted in your tight hole into his mouth, tasting your slick arousal while giving you a wink, “I’m quite full….”

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!

#priest!bucky #beefy!bucky #bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x f!reader #bucky barnes x female reader #bucky barnes smut #bucky barnes one shot #bucky barnes imagine #sebastian stan #sebastian stan smut #marvel #marvel x reader #marvel x y/n #marvel x you #marvel smut #marvel one shot #marvel imagine

[acriminalmind]

UnHoly Sacrifice

Dark!priests Barnes, Rodgers, and Wilson x Fem reader

Summary: Months after your first cleansing with Priest Barnes, he takes you to his house where he introduces you to his friends, priest Rodgers and priest Wilson. 

Warnings: smut, manipulation, foursome, anal, oral, vaginal, pet names, praise, manhandling, buttplug, marking, TopDom Bucky, Steve, and Sam, BottomSub reader, innoncent naive reader, legal age gap, heavy subspace, Father kink, religious themes, sexism, masturbating, overstimulation, corruption, mention of breeding, future marriage.

Tell me if I missed any warnings.

This is part 2 to Kneel, Pray and Obey. 

Again, I have nothing against religion and I don’t want to disrespect or offend anyone by posting this. It’s just made-up fanfic.

-

It's been 10 weeks since your first cleansing. The cleansing became a weekly thing, this way no sinful thoughts could corrupt you and prevent you from going to heaven. You would kneel at the altar, and say your prayers while your priest kneeled behind you and did his thing. Today would be different. Father Barnes, like he wanted you to call him now, invited you to his house at the edge of town. He wanted you to meet his friends, who wanted to meet Father Barnes his good girl. The pet name made you heat up and blush every time he called you by it. You wanted nothing more than to be good so you would go to heaven. It also gave you a certain feeling between your legs. Father Barnes had taught you that those feelings were a sign for you to use the special vibrating toy he had given to you and to take pictures of you using it. After sending him the pictures he would take his sweet time pleasuring himself while looking at your exposed wet pussy. When he was done he sends them to his friends, who became more and more obsessed with you. Barnes wasn't opposed to sharing with his friends. No, on the contrary. He was the one who came up with the idea for you to meet them and make you their obedient little housewife. From that moment they started planning out their plan and your future.

-

Father Barnes opened his front door after you knocked twice. "Hello, doll. Hurry in. I don't want you to catch a cold." He placed his hand on your lower back, ushering you inside while looking back outside to make sure no one followed you or saw you walking in. In the kitchen stood two unfamiliar men, leaning against the counter. "I want you to meet my best friends. These are Father Rodgers and Father Wilson. They are the priests from the two neighboring villages." Steve walked up to you first and held out his hand for you to shake, which you did. "Lovely to finally meet you, sweetheart. I've heard so many great things about you from Father Barnes." Sam then walkes up to you, "I don't usually meet such sweet girls like you. I'm glad someone still lives according to their Father's words." He had a big friendly smile plastered on his face. "Nice to meet both of you too." Father Barnes places his hands on your shoulders, "Come sit with us in the living room so you can get to know each other better." You were placed onto a big couch in the middle of the dark-lighted room. Steve and Sam were seated next to you, while Father Barnes sat on a chair in front of you. "Before we start I'd like for us to pray." Grabbing each other's hands and closing their eyes, Father Rodgers started his prayer.

-

"Amen..."

Father Wilson handed you a drink and the four of you started chatting about life. You told them you wanted to marry and start a big family. Getting a job wasn't something you ever thought about. The men in your family always said that a woman wasn't meant to work outside of house chores. While you were talking, Father Steve placed his hand on your thigh. "Your family is right. A beautiful girl like you shouldn't have to work. Leave that up to the men. Speaking about men. Do you have your eye on someone to get married to?" Until this moment you had never spoken about your marriage, so you shook your head. His hand slowly crept under your skirt. "Have you ever let other men than Father Barnes touch your princess parts?" Father Wilson whispered into your ear and places his arm over your shoulder. "N-no. I'm still a virgin." All three men smirked at this statement of yours, knowing full well that that wasn't the case anymore, but you didn't have to know that. "Good girl, so well raised." There it was. The feeling. Father Barnes took notice of your flustered state and so did the other two. "Are you feeling tingly again, doll?" To shy to answer, you nodded your head while your face reddened even more when the three men softly laughed at your state. "Let Father Rodgers feel how bad it is." Not wearing any underwear, Steve can reach your dripping core without any struggle. "She has it bad. I don't think her special toy can fix this," Steve states with fake worry. Father Barnes and Father Sam pout. "Maybe we can help our precious girl. Do want that, doll? Do you want us to help you get rid of the thingly feeling?" Father Barnes asks you. "Please help me." Those three words start a fire inside the men. "Give in to us and we will help you. We are in control now. Do you understand?" "Yes, Father." "Good. Good girl." Father Wilson unbuttons your blouse and Father Rodgers rips off your skirt, leaving you fully naked. "Let's take this to the bedroom, shall we?"

-

The three men started to undress while you waited in the corner of the room for instructions. "Don't worry, baby. It's gonna be all okay. We are gonna take such good care of you," Father Barnes said to you while cupping your face. "Now kiss me." You put your lips against his. The kiss was soft and careful. Steve took his position on the bed against the headboard, stroking his cock until it was fully hard, Sam, sitting at the end of the bed, doing the same. When the kiss stopped you looked up into darkened eyes, "Go to Father Rodgers, doll. He will start, and don't forget that we are in control. Don't disobey us or else you will be punished." "Yes, father. I will behave. I'm a good girl." The smile on his face made you feel good. You crawled over the bed towards Father Rodgers. "Look at you. Such a beautiful girl." He grabs your hips and holds you above his throbbing cock, "Relax, baby. It will be over soon." Slowly you sink onto his member, quietly moaning at each inch. "So tight, so good." When he is fully in you he gives you some time to adjust before he lifts you and drops you down again on his cock. "You feel so good, baby. Don't silence yourself. Let all the sounds you want to make go. The lord needs to hear this, so he knows you're obeying." The room is filled with your loud moans and his groans. To distracted by Father Steve you don't notice Father Rodgers crawl up behind you. He pushes you forward against Father Steve's hairy chest. Two warm hands take place on your hips. "You're doing so well for us, sweet girl. Keep breathing. I'm just gonna help Steve help you." Your asscheeks are beings spread apart and the tip of his cock pushes against your back entrance. "I see you listened to Father Barnes," he states while looking at the buttplug nestled inside you. He twirls it a bit before pulling it out, releasing Father Barnes his juices. Father Wilson starts to push his member into you, making you and him moan. He and Father Rodgers start to rhythmic thrust in and out of you. It doesn't take long until your feel yourself fall over the edge, but that doesn't stop them. "After this, you are fully us. You belong to the three of us. Tomorrow we will get married and you will be our sweet little housewife. We will take care of you so we can go to heaven together. We will never leave you again." The words of Father Barnes don't come in, because of the great pleasure you're experiencing at the moment. The only thing you can say is, "Yes, Father," while wearing a fucked out expression on your face.

-

You don't move on your own anymore, too tired by the many orgasms you've been given. Father Rodgers and Wilson manhandle your body back and forth. Your cum mixed with theirs is dripping between your bodies.

Father Barnes stands next to the bed. He grabs the shaft of his member and brings it to your slightly opened mouth before pushing it in. "Suck it, baby. I know you're tired but we are not done yet. We need to do it right." With the last energy left in your body, you start to suck his cock and twirl your tongue around his shaft, cleaning the pre-cum off of it, while Father Barnes starts to fuck your mouth. "Good girl. So good to her owners. We're gonna have such a good time together. We will never leave you out of our sight again. We will cleanse you every day. You won't be alone anymore. And when we don't cleanse you, you will do chores around the house to keep your mind from naughty thoughts." At this moment you are too fucked out to register anything else than the three cock filling your every hole. You feel Father Rodgers and Wilson cumming into you once again, before they stop their movements, keeping their cocks inside you. Father Barnes speeds up his pace, "I'm gonna release, doll. Don't spill a drop. Just like I taught you." He fills up your mouth with his juices en keeps his cock inside your mouth till you have swallowed every bit of it. "Good girl." All three pull out of you, while you drop flat onto the bed fast asleep. "Look at our sweet girl, all tired. Tomorrow we will start training her to be our lovely wife. I can't wait to breed her till she's round en dripping with milk." Father Wilson turns you onto your back and slides the hair out of your face, "shall we give her one more?" The other two smirk and kneel around you on the bed and start to stroke their cocks. One by one they cover you with their seed. "Marked today and tomorrow completely ours by law."

They walk out of the room, after Father Barnes plugged their butt again, towards the kitchen to hydrate themselves, being thirsty from their activities. With a paper on the table, they start making the list of rules for you to follow. After that Father Barnes cuts all ties and contact with your family and friends by writing a scandalous letter from you to them, leaving you all disinherited and without anyone else than your almost husbands. God has a plan for everyone, and this one is for you. With a little help from Father Barnes, Rodgers, and Wilson.

-

Onto the next!

-

Check this out.

#fanfic #criminal minds #marvel #steve rogers #sam wilson #bucky barnes #steve rodgers x reader #sam wilson x reader #bucky barnes x reader #steve rodgers x y/n #sam wilson x y/n #bucky barnes x y/n #steve rodgers smut #sam wilson smut #bucky barnes smut #bucky barnes fic #bucky barnes x female reader

[noctumbra]

       𝐝𝐚𝐲 𝐭𝐰𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐲-𝐭𝐡𝐫𝐞𝐞: 𝐥𝐢𝐜𝐤 

summary ─ an offer can mean a lot to someone.

pairing ─ dark-ish!priest!bucky barnes x naive!reader

warnings ─ pet names, implied smut, bucky is dark-ish, like he isn’t but has tendencies

extra prompt: “have you done this before?”

It was late in the afternoon, and you were placing new candles for the burnt-out ones when Father James approached you from behind.

“It’s nice of you to help around,” he said with a soothing voice, obviously trying not to spook you, but you jumped at his voice. You let out a breathy chuckle and put your hand on your chest, turning around to face him. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you.”

“Oh, it’s okay,” you assured him. “I was deep in my thoughts, I guess.” You pointed the candles. “It’s soothing.” Father James hummed.

“It is,” he nodded. “Doing something, anything really, in church is incredibly relaxing,” he added. “It was actually how I found myself following this path because I needed relaxing and peace. I found both of them and some more in here.” He looked around to show his point, and you smiled.

You knew he was coming from a violent past, ex-soldier who did some tours overseas and saw some stuff that one should have never seen. You got his needs for peace and relaxing. You knew from your neighbor who happened to be a soldier, too, and they’d jump at any loud noise, get scared really easily. You remembered asking them about it one day, and they told you that was what a war do to a person: Everything reminded them their time back in wherever they were and all the violence it brought.

“I’m glad you found your safe haven,” you told him softly. Father James hummed again. “It’s nice to know a church can cover for any sort of spiritual needs of a man,” you added absentmindedly. Father James clenched his jaw at your words, frowned lightly and cleared his throat.  You felt cold sweat hugging your body, ready to take you over. “Did I say something wrong?”

Father James was quick to shake his head. “No, no, you didn’t,” he assured. The relief filled you, but you could see it wasn’t the whole truth. He must have seen it on your face, Father James let out a forced, dark chuckle. “It does cover almost all of your spiritual needs, but you’re a man at the very end, Miss,” he said quietly. “Spiritual peace is something that helps you a lot, but in order to reach full peacefulness, a man needs to cover their physical needs, too.” He took a deep breath. “It’s hard to find someone to help you with those needs.”

You bit your lip. You thought you got what he tried to say. Maybe you could… “Would you like my help, Father?” You asked shyly. Father James’ sharp, grey eyes snapped at yours. “I can… Maybe I can help you.” He straightened up, and suddenly, he was looming over you like the Doom’s Day. You swallowed hard.

“Are you aware of what you are offering, little one?” He asked you back. “It has a great meaning to me. I need you to be aware of the greatness of your offer.” You took a deep breath and nodded. “Words.”

“I am aware of what I’m offering you, Father,” you told him. He watched you for a couple seconds. His eyes were narrowed and assessing, like he was trying to figure out if you were joking or meant what you said. “I really do want to help you,” you added for good measure. Father James looked around. When he saw that you were alone, he placed his hand on your back and led you to his chamber without saying anything.

You let him move you wherever he wanted. Soon, you found out that you were walking towards his office/room. He lived in the church; his office was also his room, and you knew there were showers one floor below. He wasn’t the only one who lived in the church, some nuns were also present.

Father James opened his door and led you inside. He walked in after you and locked his door. “I have to admit,” he started. “I haven’t been with anyone for a long time. Definitely not since I came back, so things might be… quick and rough at the beginning.” You swallowed and nodded. You understood. Father James approached to you and grasped your chin, lifting your head up to look you in the eye.

“Have you done this before?” He asked. “Was there someone else, or is this going to be your first time?” You suddenly found it hard to breathe properly.

“M-my first,” you stammered. His beautiful blue-grey eyes darkened at your answer, and he hummed deep in his chest. “I still want to help you, though,” you added quickly. His thumb ran along your bottom lip.

“I know you do, little one,” he whispered. He lifted his thumb slightly. “Lick,” he ordered. You stuck your tongue and licked the pad of his finger. “Suck in your mouth,” then, he said, and you did. You closed your lips around his thumb and sucked on his finger like it was a lollipop. He groaned softly. “You’ll do nicely if you obey my orders,” he murmured. “Are you going to be good for me?” He asked.

“Yes, Father,” you whispered. His grin was totally feral and hungry. You surpassed a shiver.

“Good. We have lots to do, so strip, little one. Let me see what I have to work with.”

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes smut #bucky barnes au #bucky barnes imagines #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes angst #bucky barnes fluff #bucky x you #lick

[lovebugspots]

THE PAINKILLER

Play either Painkiller by Judas Priest, of Death. Your choice, not mine.

THE PAINKILLER SERIES IN CHRONOLOGICAL ORDER CHAPTER FOUR: spider-man. CHAPTER THREE; wedding day. CHAPTER TWO; your too flattering. CHAPTER ONE: THE PAINKILLER THE PAINKILLER: INFORMATION

TW: Torture, SA, gore. take care of ya self :)

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

"The Painkiller will take your pain...HAIL HYDRA."

The man who was on his deathbed chanted as he sipped away from life slowly, and agonizingly. The EX-HYDRA asset sighed, lowering his pistol and sheathing it. His delicate, and intricate Titanium arm gleaming in the light as it had blood soaking into his clothes, and splattered on his prosthetic. 

"Painkiller, huh." He mumbled and walked away from the corpse, the blood oozing out of his stomach as his intestines and organs were spilled on the floor. He again sighed, and walked out of the now not so safe safe house.  The sound of his quiet footsteps, echoes in the quiet and compacted area.

He was currently in Norway for what was supposed to be a quick and easy mission with Sam. But, as life goes for the one and only Winter Soldier, it went sideways and he had gotten sniped. Not fun. Not fun at all.

He looked around, his steel blue eyes scanning everywhere he now went due to the HYDRA sniper being on the lose.

And after him.

He looked at all the possible ways and spots the sniper could be in. Nothing.

Tried hearing any sort of feet movement, due to enhanced he heard everything. Including the several times Steve was balls deep in Natasha, not the best thing to fall asleep to.

Not fun, not fun at all.

Then he heard a bullet ring, straight to his head. He quickly dodged and flipped around.

Nothing.

Another bullet, from the same spot, but he saw nothing. No person perched.

"Who the hell are you?!" He yelled out, grabbing his pistol as he looked at the trees, and the beautiful country side of Norway. His deep voice ringing in the quiet nothingness. 

Nothing.

Another bullet and he used his metal arm to deflect it. His breathing hitched and he seethed out when another bullet got lodged into his thigh, slowing him down to get the perfect head shot. 

'Okay maybe this sniper knows what their doing.' 

He thought to himself as he tried dodging the never ending bullets, with his thick, and scarlet red blood seeping through his blue jeans. He quickly got up, ignoring the fiery pain that shot up into his back, the pain was almost unbearable.

'Better then falling off a train.'

He didn't get any time to think as he ran, his hair going with the wind as he did so, he heard footsteps, but they sounded like a kitten...

So tiny and quiet.

But it wasn't a tiny kitten, rather, a full grown woman. She wore similar clothes to Bucky. The clothes he wore as the Winter Soldier, only difference is that she had bother arms covered, and what looked like gloves with two metal bumps with holes in them.

He flipped around and pulled his pistol and shot her in the head.

It didn't faze her, she took her right hand, and with her index, thumb and middle finger she pulled the bullet out an threw it to the side. Her forehead immediately healed its self, her skin knitting with one another.

From her knuckles, unsheathed two long, and sharp metal spikes. 

His heart sank, his face pales and he ran as quickly as he could, but she just stood there, the two metal spikes gleaming in the sun as she stood there. He didn't see her face once due to the heavy duty mask and goggles.

But that power. He knew one, and one person only with that power. 

The woman stood there, glaring at the man. Once he ran away from her visible sight, she sheathed her adamantium spikes and walked away to her motorcycle. She hopping on and quickly put the key in the ignition and started the bike up.

'I knew him' 

She thought to herself as she started driving the beautiful dark black Harley-Davidson motorcycle. The wind pushed on her Y/H/C locks, the braid she once had was now messy, full of leaves and twigs. 

'I knew him but I don't know how.'

Her mind was mush. Pure, and utter mush. Nothing, she knew nothing and remembered nothing.

Well, nothing besides her little boy. The so she was forced to have, but loves to much to leave. She quietly drove back to the dingy, and tiny house she was forced to live in, one that was directly above an underground base.

One where her every movement was seen.

She got off her bike once she got to the old house and she walked inside, three HYDRA Agents, and two Weapon X scientists.

"Did you kill the Winter Soldier?" One of the Russian HYDRA agents questioned, his accent thick, rough and gritty.

"No."

"You know what this means, Painkiller." He grins sadistically and looked over at her sons room and back at her, motioning for the two agents and one of the scientists to grab him.

"We take our prized Weapon X-33 and test him." He ordered, his smile only growing as Y/N eyes widen, she knew this better than anyone.

"No!-" She started but was cut off by her sons screams in pain, and the sound of his tiny body being dragged. "Please! I'll do anything! Don't hurt him!" She screamed out as the men sedate her son.

"But that isn't fun, is it?" the agent chuckles and walked over to Y/N and puts his grimy, and bloodied hand on her cheek. The blood was dried up and crusted onto his hand.

"Oh my little puppet.  So weak and submissive, huh?" He said huskily and pressed a ginger kiss on her forehead them grabbed her waist roughly, his dark and evil eyes glistening with pleasure as he did such heinous thing. His dark hair was dirtied with blood, dirt and god knows whatever else.

"Will you be a good girl for master and let us take your son?" He asked, licking the shell of her ear. She could smell the sweat, blood and somehow there was piss on him. All she did, was say frozen and he hungrily kissed her.

He knew she would do nothing.

If she does something her son will be dead.

She can't lose her little boy.

His harsh, chapped and bloodied lips hungrily kissed her, his tongue slipping past her lips and licking her teeth, and savoring her sweet, sweet taste.

He pulled away and pat her head as they open the cellar and dragged her now drugged son into the underground base. One they were inside they locked the door, the door was laced with vibranium, the only other weakness to her adamantium spikes.

She stood there, frozen as she heard them wake up her son. The whips cracking, the metal scraping on her sons delicate skin that didn't have any scars. 

Having both her and his fathers healing factor.

But her boy didn't cry or scream. At the bright age of 5 he knows that if he does, he will feed into their hunger. So he sucked it up, he has to be strong for his mama, no matter what. 

She just stood there, her face pale as she waited for her boy. Tears streaming down her face, but no sobs scratched at her throat. Just tears. She finally moved after an hour and sat down on the old couch. Waiting. 

The most dangerous woman, sitting there crying.

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky fanfic #james bucky buchanan barnes #bucky banres #james buchanan barnes #bucky #bucky x reader #bucky x y/n #wolverine #avengers #natasha romanoff #steve rogers #romanogers #daughter #wife #blood #mcu #marvel #xmen