#pirate bucky barnes

[hertzwritings]

The high seas

A/N: The way Tumblr kind of connects people truly astounds me. Through my writings, I met this amazing, sweet, kind, loving and downright perfect person who puts up with my weird ramblings and even weirder headcanons. @buckyshattergirl​ honest to all the gods in all the universes, I love you and you make me feel all asjkhfdæfdgsfk. Thank you for you.

You can buy me a coffee here, and I’ll write you a personalized drabble, one-shot or multichapter fic – anything you want, really, the sky is the limit!

Remember, feedback feeds the soul and my requests – and askbox – are always open – there’s no limits, because I am me, and I have none.

MASTERLIST

SEBASTIAN STAN MASTERLIST

REQUESTS/ASK ME ANYTHING

Pairing: Pirate!Bucky Barnes x female reader

Contains: language, pirate-y things, suspension of disbelief just a little bit, mentions of sirens, mentions of blood, mentions of swords, Pirate!Bucky (because that is indeed a warning in and of itself), SMUT (MINORS DNI), just a quickie ish, p in v, unprotected sex 

W.C.: 4.470 (SORRY)

 The High seas

Captain James “Bucky” Barnes was many things. Feared, enormously talented with both a sword and a pistol, a brilliant navigator and his name traveled further than his ship did. He stood often at the rutter, salty sprays of seafoam coating his face as his eyes, that matched the sky above him and the sea under him, wandered to the far-off horizon, always looking for the next adventure and plunder.

When The Winter Soldier came across a shipwreck near Clew Bay and he saw a woman resting on jagged rocks, his brows furrowed. A white shirt, slightly wet from the sprays of the sea against the rocks, flowed in the wind, while a leather corset – the brown tones of it blackened by use – rested on her torso, male trousers on her legs and high boots. She looked like she was expecting them. Steve had looked questionable at the sight of a lone survivor, especially a woman, sitting on the rocks surrounded by pieces of wood and dead shipmates, but Bucky had barked an order to let her on the ship. The men didn’t dare disobey his order, even if they believed her cursed.

She hadn’t spoken for a few days, but at first sight of rebellion from the crew, she had squashed any and all inklings to her being nothing more than bad luck, when she threw her dagger and caught a feather to the mast, whilst she still stood near the rutter, eyes barely looking back at the mast. Her eyes searched the sea more often than his did.

From that day, nobody dared say anything. Even Sam had once spoken loudly that it seemed like she was good luck, seeing as they hadn’t had troubles with enemy-ships, nor the dangers that lurked beneath the surface of the water.

Bucky was inclined to agree.

He learned her name was Y/N, and that her ship had unfortunately gone down near Clew Bay because of a foolish navigator, that followed a siren’s song instead of his eyes. Many men had lost their life to the sea like that.

When they docked at St. Mary’s Island, the sun slowly setting, he let his eyes follow Y/N as she wandered off the ship to the nearest inn, her fingers twirling her silver dagger. He hummed and followed her and his crew, his long leather jacket flowing in the soft breeze, his boots echoing around the wooden docks. Yes, he was, in any man’s eye, frightening and his demeanor was more than enough to scare off anybody who tried to approach him. But not Y/N. She had followed him with her eyes through the inn and finally given him a small nod of respect when he sat down. He nodded back. He didn’t care about her gender; she was a brilliant navigator and an even better fighter. There was nothing to judge.

Sam had sat heavily next to him and looked at Y/N through narrowed eyes as she drank, seemingly very bored with the rowdy crowd around her. “Sometimes I find myself thinking that she’s not quite from this world, Buck.” He said. Sam’s eyes never did him a disservice. He spotted most if not all things, most people wanted to hide – it made him the perfect man for scouting and finding flaws and chinks in the armor. It was the reason he was called Falcon in common tongue. “Hm. What makes you say that?” Bucky amused the conversation, eyes on her. He was a man of few words and even fewer, when he found his eyes on her; she was a vision, truly, and when her hair whipped around her face, her eyes closed against the bright sun, he was almost ready to take her to his quarters. Sam shrugged.

“If I knew, I’d tell you. Just know I’m not the only one thinking it.” He said in a low voice, looking to Tony and Scott, who were whispering conspiratorially and glancing at Y/N – she had seen it as well, tipping her glass with a smirk to them.

A grimy man, dressed in the Queen’s uniform long since discolored by drink and wear, stalked to her and Bucky nearly got out of his chair to kill the man, who put his grimy paws on Y/N, but Sam held him back. “Watch.” He pointed to her hand, that held a tight grip on her dagger. “A woman sitting here, acting like…” The man hiccupped. “You are worth nothing more than what’s between your legs.” He sapt at her and Bucky saw read, as the glob of spit hit her cheek. She calmly wiped it from her face and turned her body slightly, a soft, dangerous smirk on her face. “Well, then.” Before he could see what had happened, the man screamed out, her silver dagger buried at the knuckle of his finger – she nudged it back and forth with slender fingers, slowly, but surely, severing the finger from the hand. “Touch me again, speak to me again, and I’ll make sure you see nothing more than the darkest pits of the sea.” She stood and threw the finger out through a window, before sheathing her dagger again. She nodded to her crew. “Boys.” And with that, she left.

Bucky had never experienced love. He had experienced several women during his life, but only for a night or an hour, hobbled somewhere in the back of an inn or in the dark corners of the streets, knees bruised and rum running thicker than blood in his veins. But never love. At least not until this moment, when Y/N left the inn with a saunter that rivalled his own and a smirk plastered on her face. Sam chuckled and Bucky shot him a glare. Steve laughed loudly on the other side of him. “Well, captain, seems as though you’ve got yourself in trouble.” Bucky didn’t answer but gathered his belt and pistol, trailing after her into the darkened night. She was wandering away from the docks, headed towards the small cove along the shore – her hair shone in a million diamonds when the moon hit it.

He kept his pace slow and distanced from her, his coat billowing against the wooden planks, he so often had walked. She almost disappeared in the darkness, but the moon shone brightly enough to illuminate the sand under her, and he settled on a large, flat rock near her, still hidden by shadows and the cover of night.

She toed her boots off, and as the wind died down, he heard her sigh contently as the water lapped at her toes.

It wasn’t exactly news to him that he might have feelings that were more than just loyalty to a crewmate towards her. He had noticed it more and more the longer she had stayed on the ship, how he would subconsciously drift towards her, their hands almost touching as they strolled the deck, keeping lookout during storms. She had given him the last orange before they reached St. Mary’s with a shrug and told him that he looked like he needed the comfort. She had rushed to his quarters one night when she had overheard his screams from another nightmare, that seemed to plague him less and less the more she was around. Her entire being called to him in the same, gentle and alluring way as the sea did; she was simply unavoidable, deep as the chasms in the seafloor and as much in uproar as the darkest of storms, but it made him feel at ease. He knew her fire and her spirit just as much as he knew his own.

He was pulled from his thoughts when a soft tune hummed in the very air around him; he blinked a few times, trying to gather his bearings, but the song was enticing and hard to hold from his ears. He almost wanted to walk to the sea and swim.

His eyes flew open and quickly dug through his coat pockets and withdrew two lumps of wax, rolled perfectly to fit his ears – a siren, and Y/n was unprotected and alone. He rushed to stand, putting the wax in his ears, when he saw her; a beautiful woman, her face hovering just above the waterline, eyes trained on Y/n, who simply stood still, looking at the siren in the water. He was almost running, when he felt the hum of her song stop and he stilled himself – Y/n was sitting down just near the edge of the water, her eyes on the siren… And she was smiling.

He slowly removed the wax again, the rush of the world coming back to him, and he heard Y/N’s voice clear as the blinding sun – he would hear that voice through maddening crowds, if he was being truthful.

“You shouldn’t be singing so close to the docks.” Y/n said, and Bucky took another step forward, the sand shifting under his feet. “You shouldn’t be alone.” The siren responded, her voice alluring and dangerous. Y/N laughed. “No, I probably shouldn’t. good thing, I’m not.” She turned to face Bucky, who stopped dead in his tracks. “Well? Coming?” She asked, patting the soft sand next to her. The siren hissed. “Easy, Frey, he’s…” She looked at him again. “He’s trustworthy.” He slowly made his way to her, the siren’s eyes on him, and sat down next to Y/n. A little closer than he normally would. The siren’s eyes glowed reddish and her hair billowed around her face in the soft waves. “Now, you bring news?” Y/N asked her. The siren tore her gaze from Bucky and focused back on Y/N. “I do. The ship known as red Skull’s has been spotted near Tortuga. I cannot say by who…” She glanced at Bucky again. “But I know they’re looking for a certain treasure.” “Amaro Pargo.” Y/n whispered, her eyes alight with the promise of new adventures. “That is thought to be lost, isn’t it?” Bucky asked. The siren tilted her head to the left. “Perhaps. Perhaps it’s only lost to those, who cannot find it.” Bucky restrained himself from rolling his eyes. Sirens were, apparently, full of immeasurable riddles. “Hm.” Y/n hummed. “Can you lead?” She asked the siren earnestly. “Me?” She looked back at Y/N. “Have I not led you to more treasure than you can hold? Helped with more enemies than you could’ve hoped for?” Y/n nodded and Bucky finally understood why Y/N had been such a good navigator, how all ships seemed lost when they found them, their crew dazed. “Frey…” Y/n sighed. “I expect nothing from you, but I am asking, pleading that you help.” The siren sighed and looked to the docks. “I will try.” She nodded once, very strangely, to Bucky. “Man.” It seemed like a goodbye. “Fare thee well.” She nodded in the same strange way to Y/N, and then she was gone with the swell of the water.

They sat in silence for a while, Bucky trying to figure out what had just happened. “She has been… Sort of my companion for years.” She said into the silence. “Huh?” She ran a hand over her hair, tugging at a braid. “She came to my aid when I boarded my first ship. She had seen me board, seen the way the crew looked at me…” She glanced at Bucky. “let’s just say it wasn’t a coincidence that I was the only survivor, when you found me.” Ah. “And she… Helps you navigate?” He asked, intrigue coloring his words. He never knew sirens to have any type of relationship that didn’t end in death and the last breath full of salty water. She shrugged. “Not really. She tells me where there’s trouble. If her voice is left, I veer right. She might be a companion of sorts, but she’s still very dangerous and I’d prefer her not to become too close to you.”

Bucky didn’t outwardly show his emotions, if it wasn’t anger. But now, with those words, he couldn’t help the heat on his cheeks and the way his lips twitched.

“Alright, then.” He stood and offered his hand. She took it and pulled herself to her feet, their chests touching as he looked down at her. “Shall we find a lost treasure with the aid of a siren?”

----------

It had been a hard journey. The sea was unrelenting and with a swaying deck, rain falling in heavy, angry drops, he fought several of Hydra’s crewmen. The clanging of swords hung heavy around the ship, the smell of gunpowder stifled in his lungs, and yet, as he cut another man down, his eyes wandered to the vixen on the lower deck. She was grinning maddeningly, her eyes blazing with fire as she circled two men, that towered at least a head over her. She had blood-spatter on her white shirt, that clung to her chest, nipples pebbling under the cool rain. She lunged and blood flowed from the man’s throat, his crewmate’s mouth wide in shook as the woman danced around him. Bucky lunged and cut the second man down, who had swung his sword too wide to be able to block him, and he saw red when a man neared her back. He jumped on the railing and grabbed a rope – but before he swung, he saw Frey’s eyes peer up at him, a wicked smile on her lips.

“MEN! WAX!!” He shouted through the mask, he wore over his lower part of his face, and all as one swirled and pulled wax from their pockets, ready for whatever carnage Frey was about to bring. They had seen it before – Sam had even hollered that he knew Y/N had been different, when they first saw Frey talk to Y/N with her soft voice. Most of them seemed surprisingly fine with the prospect of a siren trailing their ship. The few that didn’t, happened to simply disappear overnight.

He nearly didn’t have time to get the wax in before the song started, and he swung down from the rope to Y/N’s side, where he stood back-to-back with her, fending off whoever dared near her. He felt the song in his chest and saw the men slowly lower their swords, daze already in their eyes. He grinned wickedly at them, spotting Red Skull hiding in shadows by his own ship; he was steering away, leaving the men he had on the Soldier, behind. All of them wandered around to the rails, leaning over the side. Frey swam gently through the swell of the waves, her eyes a perfect mirror of the color of the sea, now, and heads popped up around her; her song had called the few sirens nearby to her, joining her. Slowly, one by one, the men toppled to their watery grave, being pulled under by beautiful women who turned to hauntingly, beautiful and terrifying creatures as soon as their prey landed in their arms. Bucky watched, mesmerized by the sight of men going under, when he felt a hand on his arm. Y/N. She looked up at him with wide eyes and wiped her thumb across his cheekbone in an intimate gesture unlike anything, she had done before – her thumb came away covered in blood. The other crewmen looked everywhere else, trying their best to ignore whatever happened between their captain and Y/N, all of them still slightly on edge by the sirens that crowded their ships. Y/N looked behind him and nodded once, gesturing for him to remove the wax. He did, the thrumming of the song still embedded in his chest, but he turned to the sea and looked to Frey, who smiled wickedly, sharp teeth catching on her lips. “Thank you.” “Thank me not, pirate.” She disappeared under the water.

All the men drank happily after another victory, their shanties roaring from the brig. Bucky sat in his quarters, fiddling a small dagger and stared out of the open window into the darkness, when a few clatters sounded. He frowned and took a step and found three beautiful shells and a handful of colorful, shiny rocks littering the wooden floor. He glanced out the window, and despite the consuming darkness of the night, he couldn’t avoid seeing the red glow of Frey’s eyes. “Why rocks?” He called. “She likes things shiny.” And with that, her eyes were gone. He collected the strange rocks and shells in his hand with a slight smile on his lips. A soft knock sounded on the door. “Yes?” Y/n stepped inside, holding a bottle in her hand and a needle and string in the other. He rolled his eyes. “It’s superficial.” He said, pointing at the gash on his arm. It wasn’t the first, nor would it be the last. “Even so.” She handed him the bottle. “I took the last bottle of the rum, we procured in Port Royal.” She grinned. “If the men knew, they’d have my head.” He sat down and chuckled. “No, they wouldn’t. They would fear for your friend of the sea.” She sat down next to him and eyed the cut. “It won’t take long.” She mumbled and slowly began threading the needle, eyes focused on his arm. He couldn’t help but flex it, just a little and was rewarded with a soft whine. She began stitching him, and he didn’t dare move a muscle, but simply took a large swig of the bottle of rum, relishing in the warmth of the spirit. Minutes passed in silence, and he glanced at his table, where the collection of rocks and shells rested. “All done.” She mumbled and wrapped his arm in white linen, before standing up and wiping her hands on her pants. Her shirt was still spattered in blood.

He stood as well, and a swell of the waves around the ship made it tip slightly, which none of them were prepared for; she tumbled into his chest, fingers on his collarbone and his hands flew to her waist, trying to steady her. She found his eyes.

A carnal need overcame him, the very air became hard to breathe in, and he couldn’t stop himself. He kissed her deeply, a small gasp coloring the kiss in beauty, and her hands flew to his neck, wrapping around him to meet his kiss. Their tongues wrestled and he pulled her close to him, fingers moving to swiftly undo the damned laces on her back. She breathed a moan as the corset loosened and finally fell from her body – he grabbed her leg, holding her behind the knee and turned her, laying her on the bed. Their movements were frantic, desperate, and longing, so many months of glanced, near-touches and unsaid words hanging thickly in the air, and she clawed at his shirt, finally pulling it out of his trousers. He groaned as she rolled her hips against him, and he let his tongue dance over hers before he ripped her shirt to shreds. She gasped. “Buck, that was my favorite!” She bemoaned. He chuckled, kissing her neck. “I’ll buy you a brig’s worth of that shirt when we reach shore.”

She grunted and pulled at the lace on his pants, as he did the same to hers, Her chest was heaving and he couldn’t help himself – he lowered his lips to her hardened nipple and sucked it, teeth scraping against it and he was sure the sound, she made, would be burned into his mind for the rest of his life.

She finally managed to undo his pants and quickly pushed her hand inside, moaning as she touched his hard length, wrapping her hand around it. He rutted into her hand and his fingers had a hard time getting the fucking pants off her and she giggled, fully giggled as she lifted her rear up to make it easer for him to move the pants down her legs. The leather of his own pants were straining against his hard cock and her hand, and he quickly released her nipple with a soft pop to sit up straight and push his pants down. She clearly decided to use it to her advantage, and she wrapped her legs around his hips, removed her hand from his member and flipped them.

He grunted at the impact, but quickly swallowed any grievances when he saw her on top of him, straddling his hips. Her lips were swollen and red from the rough kisses and his beard, her chest heaved and tattoos littered her skin, drawing intimate pictures, a story of her. She positioned herself better, and grabbed his length again, lining him up. “Darling, don’t you…” He wanted her to feel good, but she quirked an eyebrow, a clear challenge. “You don’t believe me capable, Captain Barnes?” He had never loved being called a captain as much as he did now. “I believe you more capable than me.” He simply said, cock twitching in her hand. She grinned and lined him up with her dripping folds, sinking slowly down on him.

He might’ve thought the sea was his home, his calling, but at this moment, he knew he had been wrong – she was his home. She was tight and wet, the sounds tumbling from her lips were sinful as she lowered herself on him; he worried about her feeling pain, but her eyes rolled back in her head as she was finally seated on him, and immediately began rolling her hips, riding him with long strokes. he growled and held her hips, steering her and he felt her clench around him, her wetness growing on his lower abdomen, and he rutted up into her, craving more and sped up, not daring to slow down now, not with the way she pulled him deeper, and her moans grew. He fucked her deeply, grabbing at any bare skin he could as he nails dug into his chest. “Please…” She moaned. “Please, deeper…” He would never tell her no. He fucked her deeper and harder, feeling her clench around him and she threw her head back, stilling her hips as she came undone around him. He had felt many women reach their peak under him, but never had it felt as good as it did with her. He craved to see it again, the way she twirled her hips and used him to get more out of it, more of him. She leaned down and kissed him deeply, all teeth and tongue, and he lost control – he flipped them again, swallowing her squeal and began pounding her; her legs wrapped around him, lips warm on his, and he would die happily here, buried in her. She was moaning his name, like a drowning man’s last breath, and he sped up, dragging against her walls, that fluttered against him. “Buck….” She moaned again biting down on his shoulder. He growled and thrusted deeply, his cock twitching. “Fill me.” She whispered, her breath cooling the spot, her teeth had just been on and he damn near lost it. He fucked into her frantically, his arm weaving under her leg and hoisted it, clutching it under her knee, her walls tightening around him and with a roar, he spilled inside of her at the same time as she clamped down, another wave of pleasure running rampant through her body.

They rocked slowly to a still, his cock still twitching inside of her, and he kissed her languidly before slowly pulling out and laying down next to her, wrapping his arm around her. “You made my stitches open.” She mumbled, fingers gently swirling against the new red-splotched linen. He chuckled and let a finger follow a tattoo that ran from her collarbone to her elbow. “Worth it.”

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

When they came out of his quarters the next morning, their hands intertwined, the crewmates all whooped, and Steve yelled the loudest that it was about damn time. Bucky didn’t care, not even about the lewd comments, because Y/N managed to send a dagger flying towards Sam’s hat and pin it to the railing behind him when he shouted something obscene. They stood at the rutter together, the pirate and his queen, and stared into the endless horizon. He saw Frey following the ship just out of the corner of his eye, and he tipped his hat to her.

 TAGLIST:    @acaceta​ @a-skov​ @angelmather1​ @cooldreamlandsandwich​ @doubletriplepowerbomb​ @est1887​ @enchantedbytomandhenry​ @fionnthebandersnacc​ @herroyalbubbliness​ @keiva1000​ @kebabgirl67​  @mis-lil-red​  @one-sweet-gubler​ @pandaxnienke​  @sleutherclaw​ @sofiebstar​ @summersong69​ @spookyboogyuniverse​ @stardusted26​ @thereisa8ella​ @timetraveller4​ @thatonechickhere​ @themanfromu​ @thelastpyle​ @yourlocalhoney​ @wheretheriversrunintothesea​  @avengershoney​ @getthismoose​ @gloriuspurposee​  @the-omni-princess​ @the-gods-gloted-but-they-burned​ @xcallmetaniax​  @calstielwinchester​ @janita​ @lover-of-bucky​ @marvel-whor​  @tfandtws​ @youtubersshipper​

#buck #bucky barnes smut #bucky x reader #bucky x y/n #bucky barns x reader #bucky x female reader #Pirate!bucky #pirate au #pirate bucky barnes au #pirate bucky barnes #bucky barnes reader insert #bucky barnes x you smut #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes xyou #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes x female reader #bucky barnes x reader fanfiction #bucky barnes fanfiction smut #james bucky barnes #avengers fanfiction #avengers au

[granatkoroleva]

𝐎𝐜𝐞𝐚𝐧 𝐄𝐲𝐞𝐬

Read Here

Pairing ➱ 𝐒𝐢𝐫𝐞𝐧!𝐒𝐭𝐞𝐯𝐞 𝐑𝐨𝐠𝐞𝐫𝐬 𝐱 𝐏𝐢𝐫𝐚𝐭𝐞!𝐁𝐮𝐜𝐤𝐲 𝐁𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐞𝐬

Word Count ➱ 102

Fandom ➱ Marvel, Captain America

Rating ➱ General

Tags ➱ Ficlet, Poem, Ocean Eyes

Summary ➱ The beauty and allure of the oceans depths

Square + Prompt ➱ Ocean Eyes

Author's Note ➱ Mood-board made myself | Masterlist | AO3 |

#stucky #bucky barnes #steve rogers #smutconnoisseur #steve x bucky #stevebucky #fic moodboard #ficlet #siren Steve Rogers #pirate Bucky Barnes

[seriouslyblacklikemysoul]

Brand new fic is on its way.

An extremely soft but fierce Captain Bucky Barnes

A Mermaid Sailor Reader

One huge Ocean

One small ship

What could possibly go wrong.

*I already love this*

#pirate #Pirates #pirate and siren #siren #pirate and siren au #sirens #mermaid #moodboard #lockscreen #locksreens #wallpaper #mine #a new fic is coming #Bucky Barnes imagine #bucky barnes imagines #pirate bucky Barnes #bucky barnes au #captain Bucky Barnes #sailor #ocean

[darkdemeter]

𝐒𝐈𝐑𝐄𝐍, 𝐁𝐄 𝐁𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐃 𝐓𝐎 𝐌𝐄

— BUCKY BARNES COLUMN (ONESHOT)

Dark Pirate! Bucky Barnes x Siren! Female Reader

—- not my gifs, credit to original posters! -—

| A/N | DISCRETION |

A/N — Yes. Yes... YAAAAS! IM DOING IT! I'm frickin' writing a pirate Bucky! Mmmm! Fuckin' love pirate stuff, I'm just living for Bucky being a hotto potatoh commanding a vessel on the high seas.

Pirate Bucky — semi dark Bucky — submissive/soft captive reader — possessive Bucky — SMUT 18+, Minors DNI! — P in V sex — memory loss/wiping via magic (reader affected) — light use of physical and sexual acts to avoid conflict — indirect breeding kink? — pet names — brief consumption of alcohol — I think that's it?

| SUMMARY |

He is your captain. There is no place you'd rather be than by his side, nothing you could ever want for that is not him. You owe everything, your entire self, to him. Yet overboard and on the tide you sail across, in search for a great and ancient treasure, a song continues to seep through the cracks of your heart and soul… a song so familiar yet unknown. Forgotten. Bucky reminds you yet again that there is no place else for you that isn't beside him, that there is nothing out there.

*4.1𝐤 ────────────────┘

| M-LIST | TAGLIST:

@identity2212 @sebastianstansqueen @openup-yourmind @kandis-mom @calwitch @cjand10 @ashdoctor @missmarvelophilic

────────────────┘

  There lays a song forgotten in your heart and soul, distantly faint as the receding tide to the shore. With each spare moment of peace you were given to dwell beneath the lapping waters, you spend a portion of it in search of that song. And what time remains within the falling sand’s glass, you bask in the blue and faded black abyss. 

  Tonight is no different. You could not remember the forgotten song that lulls you tenderly, pulling through skin and scale, calling you somewhere far, much too far, away from the balancing hull above. 

  You could not abandon your captain. Betray the trust between you both. After all, it was he who found you washed atop the rocky crevices of the island, who rescued you from a fate of drying out in the sun’s merciless heat. Who took care of you when there was nothing left of the life you once knew. 

  To break that earnt trust, to betray him, you can’t think of anything far more heartbreaking than that. 

“Time’s up, my Siren,” the voice of your captain beckons you. He calls you to the surface. 

  A sigh ripples through the water and your head tilts up towards the surface, the darkened slits in your milky white eyes shrink away from the moonlight penetrating through the waves. The long limb of your tail sweeps back and forth, thrusting you upwards, skin and scales shimmering brighter as you near the barrier between water and air. The breach pulls a lungful gasp of the night's chillingly crisp air, the only warmth coming from The Avenger. 

  Hair drench-pressed and thinned forms a curtain over your features as you peer up at the looming figure pridefully arching over the ship’s wooden rail. The slivered slits of your eyes grow wider as they focus on him, with a lantern beside him, glass scorched and worn by smoke, it illuminates the upper portion of his body. His white shirt ruggedly wrinkled and loosened to showcase a muscled chest, skin tanned by the sun’s heated kiss, sleeves rolled to the elbow, black ink painted legendary stories over his body in memorabilia. Stories forged into his flesh for all to study and cower in fear.

  He summons you with a kink of his finger and you obey his silent command with an all too eager nod. Around you, the water spirals into a column and rises up, pushing you higher to reach the wooden railing. Aboard the ship, the crew is merry in their celebrations. Another successful day of conquest and battle on the high seas, another amassed sum of gold and valuables to add to hull and reputation. 

  Of course spirits would be high and cheerful tonight. And of course, what was a conquest without the captain’s prize at the end of it all?

  Gathering yourself over the rail and onto the deck, the glistening shine of your tail morphs into two shapely legs, the milky hues of your eyes and other remnants of your true body hide in their human disguise. Your eyes find the hourglass on his opposite side, the sand all gathered in the bottom glass pit. Your captain holds something out for you and you graciously accept his gift, pulling the thin veil of your robe over your naked body. 

  His ocean blue eyes scan you up and down, the left corner of his plush, chapped lips turns upwards. 

“Did you find what you were looking for?” He purrs his question and it brings a cold chill to run up and down your spine, your lungs freeze with what little breath they had at that moment. 

  He turns his body properly to face you, burly shoulders and thick muscles straining the fabric of his shirt. His eyes fold slightly into a sharpened stare of interrogation. 

  “I–I don’t…” You shake your head, breath hitching. “I don’t understand, Captain. I search for nothing that is not you.”

  “Aye?” 

  Your gaze drops to the limb of his remaining flesh hand, the other limb itself brings an uncomfortable yet hazy familiarity, you dare not to look at it up close when in the awoken presence of his intimidating stature. Often you would question its being there and admire its raw and unique - mystical - materials, when your captain lay beside you fast asleep. 

  Wrapped tightly over and under the callousness of his palm, the golden chain twinkles in the pale moonlight, the larger pearl at its centre holstered by binding gold and tinier pearls, beneath the gilded net a more refined shape of a pearl dances on its link. 

  However, your mesmerised pupils flicker up in an instant, brought to the attention of your captain awaiting your obedient answer. A noise is pitched in your throat with the answer but it dies swiftly before its deliverance. 

  Your vision focuses behind him then, up near the ship’s helm, her fingers lace slowly in their hypnotic movement as the fabric of her scarlet magic is weaved together. A warning. You do your best to hide the distressed visage of fear, batting your eyelashes and brushing aside the death of your verbal response, you bow your body forward submissively to his that towers over you.

  When your lips touch his, he almost instantly devours yours in a hungry kiss, the soft caress of your fingers tracing the curves of his chest brings pride and lust to possessively reel you into him, your nude front colliding against the hardened wall of his own. 

  Your hands run their course of exploration up the swollen bulk of his arms until they find purchase and entangle themselves in his dark locks. His own hands ravage your body, kneading the flesh and slim muscle of your hips.

  He groans when you submit to his overpowering will, mouth parting to his eager tongue that shoots forward like a fired cannon, aimed to dominate you in every sense of the word. Your soft whimpers beneath him bring him unimaginable pleasure, the sort that drives him to seek it evermore, with no seeming end to his insatiable hunger for what is you; your entire being. Wolves are known to be ravenous beasts. It’s why he’s known by the moniker as the White Wolf. 

  His tongue fiercely dances over yours, swirling and his bottom teeth tease you by nipping your lip, earning a high pitched squeal from you. He chuckles, the sound rich and dark in its intention. Your core comes alight, burning hotly and the once cool air dissipates as heat courses through every vein and nerve in your body, your mind swimming in the ocean pools of his eyes. Eyes that at times are the only thing you need to be connected to the sea. 

  The prominent tent of his erected endowment presses against your stomach and lower abdomen. You finally pull away, however, in his caging embrace it’s not very far you’re able to move back. 

  “Wait for me in my cabin, little Siren,” he orders gruffly. Your mouth falls agape and you sputter in your rattled confusion. 

  “But I—” Still he penetrates you with that cold stare. It prods at you with radiant intensity, it matches the ominous scarlet glow that now burns brighter now as it moves down the upper deck’s stairs. Your eyes dart between the woman who controls the rolling waves of red magic and the ferocity of your captain’s hardpressed gaze. 

  Your head bounces quickly. “Yes...” 

  A few words of compliance are cut off by a gasp. As you attempt to follow his order and return to his cabin, he halts you within his metallic grasp and pulls you back in, curled lips mere inches from your own, in the clutches of his brazen hold, he commands your attention. Your hands are forced to rest over his chest. 

  He drawls with a warning growl, “Yes?”

  “Yes, Captain Barnes.”

  Bucky nods his head once and lets you go, his eyes flicker between the cabin door and you, silently instructing you to hurry along. Your bare feet barely make a sound over the wooden deck in your traversal towards the cabin, where you would await your captain to claim his prize. Treasure that he greedily gets to have all to himself. The conquest he takes glee in ravishing himself full of. 

  Once you’re tucked inside, exactly where he wants you, Bucky scratches at his stubbled jaw, his recent shave already beginning to grow in again. Wanda approaches his side, the fabric of her magic ceasing at her fingertips like embers passing over into lowly ashes. 

  “That was a close one,” Bucky growls, his tongue that savours your taste runs over his teeth. She hisses with a hushed tone, “With each outing she is given to delve into the sea, my magic weakens, Captain.”

  His eyes roll to glare at the woman beside him. She sighs with a bow of her head, eyes downcast as to not provoke him into thinking her words a challenge. 

  “All I mean to say is that you must reinforce her rules. She’s beginning to suspect far too much, and with each piece of recollection, my power is sapped by her own. Enforce her rules once more.”

  Bucky’s shoulders shrug upwards with an all too arrogant huff, haughty in his conviction. He idly tilts his flesh hand, admiring the piece of you he has wrapped up in his iron grasp. 

  “She will do well to keep in mind her place. She’s intimidated.”

  “She’s conflicted, Captain.” Her words bring about a scowl to Bucky’s face, lips coiled into a snarl and nose wrinkling, eyes thinning. “And it will be a matter of time before she is free of you, and you will be known as the captain who lost his siren.”

  The bridge of this knowledge leaves Bucky in a state of strife. An aspect to his notorious reputation was garnered by your captivity. The White Wolf known by all as the fearsome pirate captain who tamed a siren; held you in the oyster of his clutches. If he did lose you, then his reputation would be suffering a heavy loss. As if to sense his change of demeanour, her hands raise up with her glowing, magic tipped fingers. His nostrils flare and the harsh prestige that made him a force not to be trifled with, he commands,  “Do it.”

  Bucky struts off with a roll of thunder beneath his leather worn boots, swiping up a half drunk bottle of rum and swallows an animalistic gulp, joining in on the festivities of his crew. Wanda observes her captain for a moment before diverting her attention towards the cabin. Her hands fold over one another, and with her palms outstretched, the scarlet hue dances through the air in a thin, cloudy blanket, searching and finding the miniscule gap beneath the wooden door. 

  He pummels into you until your back pushes far into the mattress, eliciting sharp whines and sultry moans from your parted lips, breath caught in a pattern of shallow pants. He chases after his second high as he drives his cock deep into you, the sound of skin slapping skin perverts the cabin’s air and already you begin to feel your core tremble in its own pursuit for its fourth orgasm. With each powerful snap of his hips, his throat chokes out a grunt in his exertions, the girth of his cock sinks deep into the channel of your hot, velvety cunt. 

  “Fuckin’ hell,” he growls lowly with a hiss, “so fuckin’ tight! You feel so good, you’re— taking me so well.” 

  With an exceptionally powerful rut of his hips and he has you on the precipice of screaming, thighs quivering in their hold around his waist, heels digging into the dip of his large, muscular back. Any coherent thoughts and words die on the vine of your vocal cords, only able to procure sounds of pleasure, to chant his name over and over again. 

  “Captain Barnes!” you mewl with fervour. Bucky’s chest vibrates with a husky chuckle. “That’s right, scream my name, let the crew hear you, Love. Let them hear how drunk you are for my cock.” 

  His one palm is laced with sweat, thick and roughened fingers squeeze yours in a passionate display of his dark possessiveness over you. Your captain could be very jealous when another’s eyes lingered on you for even a second too long, many others had suffered the brunt of his fury - weapons ablaze - and you in the end suffered the brunt of his envy with his cock pounding into you for the next several hours. 

  To remind you to whom it was you belong to. 

  His lips suckle one of the erected peaks of your breasts, moaning as his tongue leaves a wet trail around it before passing over to the second to repeat the treatment. Your head turns to the side sharply when the head of his cock splits you open even further than you could previously imagine, hitting a hidden crevice that leaves you without breath. 

  He gauges your reaction, the colour of your eyes blurring, phasing between the natural milky white canvases and the hue of your disguise, your canines and incisors now elongated, all because of the pleasure that pools at the junction where your bodies meet. But for a moment, you catch the glimmer of gold still wrapped around his hand, glimmering metal gnawing and rubbing across his skin, you’re torn between your euphoria and clouded curiosity. 

  “Say it again,” he grunts with a hard thrust that makes his muscles ripple insanely beneath his skin.

  “C’mon, say it for your captain, Love.” 

  Your lips and tongue drag across the flesh of his wrist, the pulse of his racing heart beats through, you can almost taste the rhythm. His sweat tastes strong with his musk, a strong flavour of the salty sea, sandy beaches and gunpowder. 

  You moan softly, almost in a whisper, “Captain… C-Captain Barnes.”

  The effect you have on him is indescribable to him. Never has he been able to put it into words, all he can do is feel it; carnally. The repetitive pounding into that deeper and sweeter spot has your back arching up, the smooth layer of your sweat covered body rubs against his, able to feel each defining muscle, he uses his metal hand to grip hold of one of your thighs, angling you so that you’re spread further apart for him. Your eyes begin to fall heavy and roll back into your skull in your drunken haze, the shimmer of scarlet presently blooms from time to time in them.  

  “That’s right. You belong to me, little Siren. It’s my cock that has you dripping wet.” His thrusts become faster, losing the precise edge he had before, his climax inevitably as close as your own. Your nails embed crescent moons into the skin of his one hand while the other bites into his shoulder. 

  “I’m the only man— fuck! The only man who gets to have you like this. Shit… shit. ’M going to fill you up.” 

  “Please, please… Cap—”

  “Aye, I’m going to fill you up, have you nice ‘nd full until my cum is leaking out of your little cunt, Siren. Fuck… you want that, don’t you? I know you do.” 

  You gasp with each attempt to breathe, each push and pull of his cock strikes you like a match to light the powder keg, the explosion of your climaxes comes as a white hot flash in your vision, momentarily blinding you. Your hot walls squeeze around his large endowment, forcing him to thrust back and forth even harder, grunting hot breaths against the shell of your ear. 

  His seed is flushed into the channel of your pussy in thick, seething spurts that paint your walls that milk him for every precious drop. 

  What he gives makes your lower abdomen weigh a little heavier, a little bit fuller than you were before. His hips grow slower with each dissipating explosion from his tip. His large chest expands hugely with every intake of air to his lungs before deflating as a pleased groan. 

  In his reverie of contentment, having had his fill of his prize - for now - he withdraws his softening cock from your pussy, a moistened pop echoes in the emptiness of your thoughts. Bucky rolls off of you to lay at your side, atop the furs and silken drapes of the bed. Before you can make a move he uses his metal arm to drag you in closer, tucking you into his side, the coldness of his fingers skimming the delicate texture of your arm. 

  The soothing rock of the ship is enough to lull you to sleep, the lids of your eyes inching closer and closer together. 

  “Still deny that you found nothing?” 

  His question only brings your brows to knit together. You shake your head and huddle closer into his side, basking in the comforting warmth of his body. Why on earth would he ask you such a silly question? As if there was anything of importance that outranked him, by being at his side. 

  The answer you give is instant in its resolve, “I don’t understand, Captain. I needn’t find anything out there… I have you.” 

  Your answer, though unable to see it from your position, pleases him and his lips curl into a toothy smirk, long sweeps of his dark brown hair tousled about in his post sex state. You lay your head against his chest to hear the steady thrum of his heartbeat, eyes closing to seek rest and refuge in the arms of your beloved captain. The man that grants you safety, that promises you nights of passion followed by the comfort of his body next to yours. All he asks in return is your loyalty. Your devotion.

  For you to be his siren. 

  Behind the blurry curtain of sleep layered over your eyes, you awaken and by your estimation, only for around an hour or maybe a little more. The morn still hasn’t risen over the ocean’s horizon, the moonlight shimmering and shining over the waves. The candlelight that bathed the cabin with a sensual atmosphere had now burnt out. 

  Breaths of deepened sleep sound next to you, the chiselled sculpt of his chest you’d used as a pillow takes steady form, as he sleeps. It makes you wonder as to what he dreams about, sometimes a scowl is etched into his attractive visage and he becomes restless, leaving you to somehow comfort him. And other times, mostly after he’s spent drawing orgasm after orgasm from the two of you, he finds respite. 

  You take the time to thoroughly yet delicately rub your eyes, robbing the tiredness of its hold to take you once more. With a tilt of your head, hair coming over your shoulder to graze the top of your breasts, his other hand lay out over the bed, residing just over the edge. 

  The mysterious object that somehow you know is linked with you, but as to how or why, or its significance to you in any case, is still laced around his calloused palm. Despite its odd gleam of familiarity, you believe this is the first time you’ve seen it before, however, the tiny voice in the back of your mind says otherwise. Then you must have seen something like it before somewhere. 

  Something deep in the recess of your heart, you have to know. Is this somehow linked to the estranged longing to a home you can’t remember? Does this necklace bind you to the lost melody of times erased from your memory?

  You take caution in moving carefully, inching your way to lean over the sleeping form of your captain, skin brushing skin, you slowly rotate your hips and hoist a thigh over his waist. Heated crimson flushes into your cheeks as you analyse your newfound position, but also from the way his body stirs lightly, still enraptured by sleep yet his body adjusting to your core lining over his naval. 

  Thawed from your frozen idle of panic, you take a moment to calm the racing of your heart that hammers vigorously against your chest, your nimble fingers reach out towards his flesh hand that clings protectively to the mysterious necklace. 

  This almost feels… too easy. You swallow a silent gulp, fingers grazing against his palm when his body shifts, bumping up into yours, you pull your reach back so fast, your hand slaps against his ribs, doing your best to cover up your true intentions. His stills beneath you once more and your shoulders fall lax with a sigh of relief. 

  Again you dare another attempt to grab the necklace, this time you don’t risk breathing, holding it for what seems like forever until your lungs begin to swell with an ache that makes them feel like bubbles about to burst. 

  You work the chain until it's loosened and finally allow your held breath to escape you, the strain to remain silent proving far more difficult than you would have liked. The weight of your body shifts backwards, now sitting up, you allow your eyes to take in every detail of the object in your hands. The gold chain is light, ghostly as it graces your hands, your fingers lace and loop it around amidst the process of your conjuring thoughts. 

  Like a puppeteer pulling the strings you raise the necklace up by its precious thread. The pearl encaged by its makeshift net swings from side to side, as though even when you are completely still, it has a soul of its own accord. 

  Everything you knew about pearls is forfeit, the identity of this one brings the bevel between your brows to form in thoughtful wonder. Therein lies the piece of some puzzle, the missing notes to the melody to which you only recall the faint rhythm of the song. 

  It has to mean something of greater importance. But if it did, then why is your captain so adamant to dismiss your curious nature to find the answers?

  As if the pearl itself is the key, you hear within your heart and soul the song. Voices sing a tone that is calming to your senses, a sweet and endearing lullaby meant for you to hear whenever you find yourself in the loneliest of places, in the darkest reaches of the ocean, the connection will bring you somewhere you call home. 

  But your home is The Avenger. Aboard the ship with Captain Barnes. The man known as Bucky to his closest inner circle. So why do the voices mingling with the tide call you away from all that? With each passing second you become ensnared by the spell of the pearl, the voices of whom you somehow find solace in become louder, the softened chorus of their song echoes a hundred times over in your head. 

  Before you even give pause to reason, your own voice becomes paired with the orchestra of sirens. You have no words, and maybe you never did, all you did need is the pearl to help guide you in remembering the melody. The uncertainty of your humming eases, the unforeseen instructors aiding you, your voice is soft within its deep reverie when it all comes to an abrupt pause, a gasp severing the tune. 

  He has you by the wrist, fingers bruisingly tight and giving you no choice to pull away from him, as he often did whenever he saw you retreat from him without his say so. 

  Bucky’s eyes bear into yours, penetrating the barrier of the necklace, he stares you down the way a wolf does the lonely prey in its path. His eyes match the brooding darkness of a storm at sea, a breed of villainy that threatens those who dare to try him. 

  “Captain…” Your throat bobs with a nervous swallow.  “I– I wasn’t—” 

  Out of pure instinct to not tempt his fury, your hold on the necklace ceases and it gathers in the roughened pad of his palm, large thumb that has caressed your sensitive nub plenty of times now works against the spherical shape of the pearl, brows heavy in their judgement to assess your punishment. His movement is sudden upon the brink of your awareness, a sharp gasp that cuts into the tender muscle of your chest as he plants you flat on your back, hands both of flesh and metal pin your wrists on either side of you until the bruising ache becomes far too unbearable. But you do nothing to voice the level of your pain. He would not hear of it. His newly erected shaft ghosts over your entrance, the beginnings of your slick painting his already drooling tip.  “I’m beginning to think you like breaking my rules, Siren.”

#female reader #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes smut #pirate au #pirate bucky #siren reader #bucky smut #bucky barnes angst #bucky barnes x female reader #bucky barnes fic #bucky barnes #dark bucky barnes #bucky x reader smut #bucky x reader

[evermore-crow]

“It must be exhausting always rooting for the anti hero…”

Hmm, actually not that hard.

#taylor swift #anti hero #Loki #jack sparrow #kaz brekker #han solo #deadpool #moon knight #bucky barnes #frank castle #marvel #six of crows #star wars #the punisher #pirates of the caribbean #netflix shadow and bone #grishaverse

[gaysindistress]

Running from the Daylight - two

pairings: pirate!James “The Scourge of the Sea” Barnes x royal governor's daughter!reader 

Summary: based on this request

Warnings: reader uses She/her/hers pronouns and is AFAB, mentions of the female body/parts, cursing, suggestive sexual content, violence and mentions of death, sexual content (p in v), some dark shit (like I can’t tag it without spoiling it but people get freaky over someone who’s bleeding) I'm actually awful at tagging things but there's smut. for the love of all things holy, do not read if you are a minor.

Word count: 3.6k

part one | my master list

Tag list: @talesofreading

disclaimer: credits to original creator/poster of image/gif, found on google/Pinterest/tumblr. Credits to @boltlightning for the gif on the bottom left & @owenhcrper for the gif on the bottom right

Begging, pleading, and sucking him dry did nothing to convince James that I’ve been ready to take his cock since that first night.

He would be a monster and allow me to believe that he would finally take me only to stop right before it went too far. He would give me hollow reasons like “the sea is too rough,” “you are too tired,” “we don’t have a proper bed and I will not take your maiden hood without one.”

Useless excuse after useless excuse was all I received for months on end. A part of me wondered if he was growing bored but when I confessed this to him, he spent the following several hours between my legs. He lapped and sucked at my core until I was crying and shaking but kept pulling climaxes from me until I very nearly passed out.

I tried to tempt him by wearing thin nightdresses or simply nothing at all but it all failed. I even convinced Natasha to play along with a scheme in which James would just so happen to find us in the middle of fucking but nothing. All he did was sit in his captain’s chair and watch with sharp eyes, occasionally telling us what to do.

Months of pent up frustration finally came to head when we docked in New Providence to replenish our supplies. My father had been overjoyed to see me again but his happy mood was as soiled when he observed the way that James and I were.

“My darling please tell me that he has not ruined you,” my father harshly whispers to me as he pulls me aside.

I gasp in disbelief and rip my arm away from him.

“Excuse me! You are not allowed to ask me such a thing!”

“I am your father, Y/N Stark. It is well within my rights to know if my daughter has been abused by a pirate.”

I catch the watchful eye of James as he’s instructing his crew and he gives me a concerned look. I brush it off and look back to my father.

“Your daughter has not been abused,” I sneer as I spot the Commodore approaching us, “I’ve been kept safe and protected.”

Steve makes a face at my words as he stops beside us but my father seems satisfied. He backs away and nods goodbye to us before retreating back to his fortress.

“You may speak freely with me; has the pirate lord abused you?”

“The only abuse to be had is that what my throat endures from taking his cock every night,” I calmly state before also leaving to find my captain. I don’t wait to hear or see Steve’s reaction but I can feel his piercing stare on my back.

“You said you wouldn’t fuck me until we had a proper bed,” I say lowly as I drop myself onto the canopied bed behind me, “and I think this meets that requirement.”

James narrows his bright eyes at me but doesn’t move from his place leaning against the raging fireplace. It’s odd seeing him look…normal? He’s out of place in this world of luxury and refinement but here in the room that I once called my own, he looks like he belongs. A part of me wishes to pretend that our pasts were different and that he had been the man who proposed to me, yearning for me for years. I wish that time had been kind to him and that it hadn’t stolen his heart and soul. I wish that I could’ve been the one he fell in love with all those years ago so he wouldn’t have had to face that curse. I wish we could delight in being together alone in my room at my father’s estate, a situation I would’ve blushed to even think about a few months ago. I wish we could ignore the reality of who we are and wholly engulf ourselves in the opportunity that presents itself.

“I did say that, didn’t I love?” He muses for a moment, allowing his eyes to trail down my barely covered body. I’d found an even thinner and smaller nightdress to wear for tonight, hoping that it might finally be what breaks him.

Maybe my last wish would come true.

He pushes off the mantle and prowls towards me. As he gets closer, my body starts to burn with anticipation and I inch back to accommodate his imposing stature. James knocks my legs apart with his knee and slots between them as he leans over me. Both hands cup my face and my eyes flutter closed at his warm touch. He dips down to whisper in my ear and chuckles when my breath hitches.

“You need sleep my love.”

I let out a snort, “no I do not. What I need is…”

He interrupts me with a gentle peck and mutters against my lips, “I know what you need and that is sleep.”

James presses another kiss to my lips with a subtle roll of his hips into mine while wearing a wicked smirk. I stick my tongue out at him as he pulls away and waits for me to settle into bed. He finds his place in the huge and ugly arm chair that my mother insisted I needed in front of the fireplace. His hat is sat on the small table beside him and his feet are kicked out in front of himself. Crossing his arms over his chest, James settles himself into the chair as if he’s going to sleep there and I frown at him.

“I can feel you thinking, love,” he quips and although I can’t see his face, I know there’s a smirk.

“Is that where you intend to sleep? In my armchair that I know is most certainly the most uncomfortable piece of furniture in this house?”

His shoulder shrugs and he makes a show of making himself comfortable with a loud sigh.

“It’s perfectly comfortable to me, your highness,” the jab at my upbringing doesn’t go unnoticed, not with the way he elongates the word and lowers his voice.

Scoffing, I throw a pillow at him and he chuckles when it flies past, missing him.

“Remind me to work on your aim in the morning,” he teases me before adding that I need to be going to sleep.

“We’re not on your ship anymore so you’re not my captain,” I snipe and that catches his attention. He perks up and goes to say something smart back but the doors fly open, slamming against the poor walls.

James stays seated albeit ready to jump up if needed. Seeing as he’s playing it cool, I do the same and remain tucked into my bed.

The person who dared interrupt our night is none other than the Commodore. He stands at his full height with a scroll in his hand as he glares at James.

“And to what do I owe the pleasure of being granted your presence so late at night, commodore?” James mocks as he watches Steve.

The wigged man says nothing but sends a death glare towards the pirate before looking at me. He takes a step towards me and James makes a clicking noise, telling him to stay put.

“Y/N,” Steve starts as he ignores the subtle warning, “your father has found a way to free you from your deal with this vile creature.”

I glance around him at James who’s smirking to himself and raises one dark brow at me. He’s no longer stretched out like a cat but instead is leaning back against the chair with his head resting on his fist as he watches us.

Turning my attention back to Steve, I ask him to elaborate and elaborate he does.

“You were under duress. You cannot be expected to uphold a deal that you made when you were in fear for your life. Your father and I handled everything, Y/N, all you need to do is say that you were afraid for your life and otherwise would not have made the deal.”

In another life the gut wrenching way that Steve is pleading with me would’ve worked. I would’ve jumped up and ran for him, falling into his arms as I sobbed that I was afraid. I would’ve taken his hand and begged him to save me for the sake of being free from a pirate even if it meant being in debt to him for life.

That is if I hadn’t met James; the man who’s shown my unconditional and undying affection. The man that has sworn to protect me and honor me as if I were his ruling goddess. The man that has seen parts of me that no other man has and the man that I want to know every inch of me, mental and physical.

“Steve, ever the gentleman,” I coo as I push the blankets from my lap and slide off my bed.

“There is but one fault in your proposal,” I state as I softly pad toward the two men, “I was not under duress. I was not afraid for my life by any stretch of the imagination. I was not afraid at all, in fact, I felt the safest I had in years in that moment.”

I can feel the heat of James’ stare on me as I come to stand beside him and continue to tear Steve apart.

“If anything, I was concerned for your life but not afraid. I knew that James would not harm or otherwise act in a way that would scare me. I knew that he would agree to my terms but you,” I point at him and allow my voice to become more harsh, “you were the one I was afraid of. You’ve always been a liability, never quite knowing when you’re going to lash out on those around you. You’ve always freighted me and that night at the bar only solidified my fears that you would cause me harm. Even if my life depended on it, I wouldn’t have agreed to marry you or went back with you that day on the Serpent’s Cry. Quite frankly, Steve, I’m perfectly content being bound to this vile creature.”

James snorts from behind me and wraps an arm around me, tugging me to sit on his lap. Steve is fuming, his face turning red with anger at my lecture and I know he’s plotting both of our demises.

The man beneath me grips my chin and tilts my head down so that he can capture my lips in a heated kiss. My hands fly to tangle into his hair as his tongue swipes at my bottom lip. A moan tumbles from me when the hand gripping my chin slides to cup the back of neck.

“Enough!” Steve’s voice rings out and he storms towards us to rip me away.

The familiar cock of a gun halts him and he frantically looks down to see a readied pistol pointing at him. It had been lying under James’ hat, hidden from plain sight so Steve had no chance to draw his open weapon.

James has the audacity to look bored as he holds the weapon and rubs small circles into my hip with his other hand.

“Out,” he orders in a low rumbling voice.

Steve, however, the oaf of a man takes another step forward and James rolls his eyes.

“Is pain the only way you learn, Commodore? Out before I shoot your cock off.”

Steve scoffs at the crude words and I stifle a giggle while tucking my face into James’ neck. He shudders slightly at the feeling and squeezes my hip.

“Y/N,” Steve tries to appeal to me but I’m not having any of it. I begin to plant wet kisses on James’ neck and nip at the soft skin occasionally. Steve calls to me again and I suck a deep red, nearly purple mark into the pirate’s neck which earns me a throaty groan.

A series of sounds ring out and I jolt away from my haven. First is the sound of Steve stepping forward, a gun shot, a cry of pain, and a thud as Steve falls to the ground. With wide eyes I try to look at him but James catches my face in a tight hold, forcing me to meet his eyes.

“Don't look at him, love. Eyes on me, understood?” He whispers, letting his lips dance over mine and holding my eye contact with a fierce look swirling in his blue eyes.

I manage a small nod and he smiles at me before addressing Steve who’s clutching his leg.

“I warned you and you did not listen. As far as I’m concerned, you are to blame for the state of your leg. Now I suggest you drag your cowardly self out of this room before I do depart your cock from your body as I promised."

Lost in the way his eyes captive me and his words cause a fire to ignite in my body, I don’t hear Steve’s protests that break through the cries of pain. It’s not until James breaks our trance and rolls his eyes that I realize our situation. I still obey James and don’t look by hiding my face in his neck once again. He coos to me to go to my bed and turn away from them as he helps me stand.

“Keep your eyes on the ground for me,” he tells me when my hand slips from his and I cautiously make my way to my bed.

From behind me, I hear James let out an exaggerated sigh and the crackling of leather from him bending down.

“You’ve shot my leg, how am I to be expected to leave?” Steve hisses through the agonizing pain.

“Drag yourself like the worm you are. It's none of my concern how you choose to obey my command."

“I will not leave her alone with such a demonic savage like yourself.”

There’s a pause, a tension filled pause as I assume James debates what to do. However his next words are not exactly what I was expecting.

“Pain doesn't seem to be a strong enough deterrent for you, Commodore. Remember; you are to blame for your current situation,” he huffs as he yanks Steve up and drops him into the chair we’d been sitting in.

“Love hand me the sheet,” he says to me without looking.

I quickly bundle up the item he’s asking for and toss it to him. I want to ask what he’s planning but it becomes clear when he starts to wrap it around Steve.

“Since you refuse to leave her alone with such a demonic savage, as you put it so beautifully, you’ll have to watch her damnation.”

Steve lets out a roar of protest and it met with a pistol pressed under his jaw.

“You were told to leave and you did not. Seeing her defiled and ravished as she deserves is a fitting punishment. I think this is preferable to death but I am not the true judge. Love?”

The nickname catches me off guard and my eyes dart between them but it’s the stormy eyes of James that are given my full attention.

“What do you think? Should I grant him mercy and kill him before you take my cock? Or should he watch as I take what he's desired for years?"

As I fail to answer, James adds, "I will only do this if this is what you want. If not, I’m more than happy to show him just how acquainted with the devil I am.”

Words escape me and I just nod.

Apparently that’s not good enough.

“Use your words love. Tell us what you want.”

“I…fuck,” I mumble under my breath and James’ smirk spreads across his face. He knows that I want this, that I want nothing more than for him to finally take me even if it means Steve is forced to watch.

“I don’t think the Commodore heard you. Louder.”

“Yes. I want this. I want you. I want you to take me.”

James cocks a brow at Steve with a sinister smirk, “it appears that your pure angel wants me to defile her while you watch.”

The tied up man jerks forward with a threat on his lips and james lets out a terrifying laugh. He ignores the protests and calls me over with the hook of his finger. My body is trembling as I let my feet touch the ground and nearly stumble as I try to walk. Steve must think it’s out of fear but my captain knows it’s due to anticipation.

I stop at his side and James draws away from the injured man to wrap an arm around me. Pulling me in front of him, my back is to his chest and I’m facing Steve. James keeps his gun pointed at him while bending his head to my ear and whispering to me.

“You tell me when you want to stop, understood?“ he tells me in a voice so low I almost don’t hear him. When I don’t acknowledge his statement, he squeezes my hip with his free hand and repeats it.

Breathlessly I agree, “Yes, please James. I need you.”

He nudges my legs apart and drifts his hand from my hip to my core, pulling up my night dress in the process. My head lolls back, falling onto his shoulder and he captures my lips in a searing kiss. Moans and sighs fall without hesitation as he begins to run firm but slow circles into the bundle of nerves that only he can seem to find. His name becomes a chorus that is caught between our lips as the pressure builds within my core. He releases my lips and lets me sing my song for Steve to hear clearly. I feel him smile against my temple as I grow louder and louder. Just as I’m about reach my climax, he pulls his hand away and I nearly cry. A few tears leak from my eyes and he coos sweetly to me.

“Shhhhh love, I promised to defile you and I intend to do that. Lean forward and put your hands on his shoulders.”

“James,” I whimper when I feel him back away.

“Do as you’re told.”

The sounds of his belt and pants dropping silences me. I lean forward and with hazy eyes, look Steve straight on as my hands grip his shoulders. There’s a fire burning in his light eyes and I’ve come to know what it truly is. He can try to deny it but we all know watching me is causing him to grow hard and angry.

“Y/N,” his voice breaks as he whispers my name and I blink hard trying to look at him.

The heavy heat of James behind me distracts me and I drop my head at the feeling of him rutting against me.

He taunts Steve with cruel words as he drags the head of his cock through my folds and pulls wanton moans from my swollen lips.

“James,” I plead, “please.”

He coos mockingly as he lines himself up.

“Louder, my love. I don’t think your fiancé heard you.”

“He’s not my fiancé,” I grit out angrily but it falls flat when he pushes his entire length inside of me. It turns into a wince and pained moan but he doesn’t pull out. He keeps it there, watching me struggle with the pain that morphs into blinding pleasure. Only when I push back against him does he withdraws a few inches but keeps most of his length inside me as he starts to rock his hips into me. He’s slow and deliberate at first, focusing on pulling the loudest and most embarrassing moans he can from me but as his own body betrays him, his hips increase their pace.

Below me Steve is a mess. His breathing is ragged and the color is draining from his face as the blood loss becomes too much. I can’t bare to look at him and James must see that in the way I keep my head bent down. A sharp tug on my hair forces my head up and I see the devastation written lines on his face. The cold barrel on a gun rubs against my scalp and it dawns on me that the hand that’s in my hair is holding the gun. He grunts as he pumps his dick into me and I cry out as pleasure washes over me. He keeps one hand coiled into my hair as the other slips to my core, rubbing me and drawing my climax from me.

James tugs me up against his chest and I tilt my head back to rest against his shoulder as we continue to move against each other. His cock drags against my walls in a nearly painful way but I don't care. I’m pulsing around him and pleading with him to let go with me. As my eyes flutter shut from the white hot pleasure, he tugs my hair again and demands I look at Steve.

“Look at the Commodore, love. Look at what just watching you does to him,” he mumbles against the skin of my neck. My eyes are heavy and it’s a struggle to do as I’m told but I do and it earns me my climax.

James thrusts up hard one final time and we’re both moaning as I finish. He’s not far behind and groans out my name as he releases his hot seed into me. We’re a panting mess as he slows and eventually stops. He loosens his grip on my hair with a sweet kiss to my temple and whispers praise into my ear.

Intertwined in those sweet phrases is a promise and at first I think it’s for me. Only when the second shot of the night rings out do I realize that it was intended for Steve.

“I hope for your sake that your false god takes pity on you and allows you to die before morning.”

With that he tucks himself back into his pants and lifts me into his arms. My final memory of commodore will be blurred in pleasure and blood but I don’t care. He can bleed out for all I care after he dared to lay a hand on me and insult the man I love.

#bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes fic #marvel imagine #bucky barnes fanfic #running from the daylight bucky #pirate bucky x y/n #pirate bucky x you #pirate bucky imagine #pirate bucky x reader #pirate au #bucky smut #pirate Bucky smut #smut #bucky barnes smut #marvel smut

[metalbuckaroo]

KINKTOBER DAY 11: Breeding

Summary// ‘take what’s yours’

Warnings// smut, breeding kink, light spit kink, light degrading, use of the words cockslut and slut, kinda baby trapping but also not really, a hint of hair pulling, that might be it

AU// soft!dark!pirate!bucky x f!reader

Note// a little bit longer than the previous ones and I actually like how this one turned out. My summaries are getting worse and worse though bc my brain doesn’t work anymore fbrhdughs

KINKTOBER MASTERLIST

18+ ONLY MINORS DNI

Your body had grown use to the uncomfortable positions Bucky had managed to bend you in.

Your legs on his shoulders, practically bent in half as he pounded into you. Teeth gritted and muscles tense from the exertion as your hands fumbled to find something to hold onto, gasped out moans tearing from your burning lungs as his hands found yours. Fingers lacing together before he pinned them to the mattress.

“Gonna make a family. Make my little cockslut a momma-“ he panted, beads of sweat formed at his hairline and skin flush as you whined in response. “Full you till your dripping and round- we’d make perfect babies.”

His words weren’t fully registering in your pleasure drunk mind, likely another empty promise that you couldn’t bother to argue with. Not when he was pressing so deep and fucking into the perfect spot that had your thighs quivering, thick cock splitting you open.

Your lips dry from the heaving breaths as you tried to wet them, voice hoarse from the hours he’d had you like this. Holding off on the swirling at his base to have his pleasure in bringing you to a breaking point. One where you’d beg him to stop but still cling onto him and mewl like he was your lifeline. A twisted feeling growing in him at the thought of keeping you full of him- of seeing you round with his child.

Likely one of the reasons he went harder- faster.

You hadn’t thought it possible, your legs being dropped to a more comfortable position on his waist as he gripped your cheeks in metal fingers. Your mouth opening instinctively as he pursed his lips, gathering saliva before spitting it in your mouth and smothering your lips with his in a sloppy kiss. Teeth clanking together from the punishing thrusts as his hips rutted yours.

“My pretty little slut will always be that- mine.” A sick smile curled his lips, goosebumps lining his skin when your shaky hands found their way up his chest and to his long hair. Fingers tangling in it as you blubbered incoherent words, a shift in his hips tensing your body and making your hands tug the sweat dampened strands.

A pleased chuckled mixed with a deep moan rumbled from his chest as you pulled hard in reaction to the feeling rippling through your body, tingles running down his spine from the feeling.

“There ya go, finally getting the hang of it.” He strained from the angle of his head being pulled back. The column of his neck looking as if it was begging to be marked up as you pulled him down to you, latching your lips to his pulse point and sucking harshly on the skin. His vulgar sounds vibrating against your mouth as his warm right hand slipped between your slick bodies to toy with your clit. Your back arching painfully at the overwhelming feeling.

“Gonna fuck a baby into this pretty cunt. Then you’ll always be mine. My permanent little fuck toy.” Bucky grunted, pressing sloppy circles to the overworked nub. His thrusts losing their rhythm. “Whose cock is this?”

Your mumbles were inaudible over the salacious sounds of skin slapping and the wet squelch of your cunt mixed with his deep moans and grunts. His lips brushing over yours before he surged his hips forward, thick tip ramming into a spot that had you seeing stars and his hand going up to grope at your chest. “Answer me.”

“Mine- mine, all mine-“ you cried out, words slurring together from the seemingly permanent fog that had settled over your mind.

“Prove it, claim it.”

“I can’t- I can’t- Bucky, please-“ you pleaded, your fingers slipping down to dig your nails into the skin of his back. The stinging sensation only egging him on as another guttural moan poured from his plump lips.

“Yes, you can. You want that family? Lock me in and take what’s yours.” He demanded, jaw clenched tight and pace faltering.

Your ankles hooked together at the base of his back, heels digging into the spot to pull him impossibly deeper as your frantically rocked your hips against him.

“There ya go, greedy pussy is milking me.” Bucky grunted, head dipping down to bite a mark to your shoulder as his cock twitched in your velvety walls.

Your countless orgasm tore through you like a wild fire. Stealing the breath from your lungs and making your body convulse, walls spasming around his thick cock as your vision whited out for a moment. His guttural moan barely heard over the roaring in your ears as hot spurts of his spend filled you.

Your body was wore out when he slipped from between your shaking thighs. A weak whine pulling from your throat when you felt his middle and ring finger against your cunt, pressing the seed that had seeped from you back into your spasming walls.

“Bucky-“ you started, heavy metal hand pressing just above your pelvic bone to hold your hips down as he fucked his fingers into you. Your overstimulated cunt already clenching around the digits and body fully reacting to the shocks of pleasure.

“You’re gonna make the best momma- give me another and you can go to bed.”

————

Taglist: @auriel187 @marvel-3407 @winters1917 @k-jones16-blog @wickedravyn @ah-blossom @tilltheendofthelinepal9950 @buckybraneslover111 @bonkybarnes106 @wakandabiitch2 @vllowe @kmuir1 @alyhull @stardust-galaxies @michellefoster12 @xleggo-my-elevenx @fionanovasleftnut

#bucky barnes #bucky x reader #bucky fanfic #bucky fic #bucky imagine #bucky barnes smut #soft!dark!pirate!bucky smut #soft!dark!pirate!bucky #soft!dark!bucky #dark!pirate!bucky #pirate!bucky smut #pirate!bucky

[navybrat817]

So, lovelies. Pirate won one of the top spots for my birthday poll. As much as I love pirates, it wasn't resonating with me for some reason.

But SPACE pirate?

Yes. We like this. We like this a lot. Thanks, @nixakimbo . ❤️

#navybrat updates #bucky barnes #space pirate!bucky barnes #future fic #excited for this #i love him your honor #my ❤️ and my 😻 #star-crossed #nixakimbo #nix edits

[rookthorne]

⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂ 𝐍𝐨𝐭 𝐀𝐥𝐥 𝐓𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐮𝐫𝐞 𝐢𝐬 𝐒𝐢𝐥𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐆𝐨𝐥𝐝

The Soldat’s captain was ruthless and never showed any quarter to his enemies. When an armada appeared on the horizon like a beast from the ocean, you knew the battle would be bloody and victory would be sweet, and the treasure would be worth more than silver and gold.

჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻ 𝒑𝒂𝒊𝒓𝒊𝒏𝒈 ✗ Pirate!Bucky Barnes x F!Reader

჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻ 𝒘𝒐𝒓𝒅 𝒄𝒐𝒖𝒏𝒕 ✗ 1.5k

჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻ 𝒘𝒂𝒓𝒏𝒊𝒏𝒈𝒔 ✗ Fluff, descriptions of battle (blood and gore), praise kink

჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻ 𝒂𝒖𝒕𝒉𝒐𝒓 𝒏𝒐𝒕𝒆 ✗ As a woman obsessed with POTC, I got to use my hoarde of knowledge on pirates for this.

჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻ 𝒂𝒏𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒎𝒔 ✗ The Kraken by Hans Zimmer ✗ Angelica by Hans Zimmer, Rodrigo y Gabriela

჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻ 𝒆𝒗𝒆𝒏𝒕 ✗ @the-slumberparty Week 1 Fic Challenge ჻჻჻ 𝑷𝑰𝑹𝑨𝑻𝑬 ჻჻჻ 𝑫𝑰𝑨𝑴𝑶𝑵𝑫 𝑵𝑬𝑪𝑲𝑳𝑨𝑪𝑬 — Masterlist

𝐒𝐢𝐧𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐒𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐧 𝐒𝐞𝐚𝐬 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

Canon fire peppered the air while smoke billowed from the muzzles of the guns lining the deck of The Soldat’s ship, its captain bellowing orders and commands in quick succession, the volume of his voice rivalling the constant explosions of gunpowder. 

Crewmen were yelling, screaming threats and making good on their promises to maim and murder the King’s men. It was a gruesome sight with bodies strewn over the deck and hanging off the hull rail with swords and bayonets rooted deep in their backs and stomachs; enough to turn the churning sea red below the belly of your ship. 

“No quarter!” A voice boomed by your ear and you spun ‘round to see your captain, sprayed with blood with a maniacal grin on his normally stoic face. “Send ‘em down to Davy Jones’ locker, lads!”

Roars of ascension echoed and the battle grew in intensity around you - men were turning savage with bloodlust, gutting their opponents with the order of no mercy. The once pristine Man’O’War you called home had carved a path through the blockade with its wide berth that was now painted a deep crimson from the loss of life.

“If you can put as many men down as me, lass, I’ll see to you it that you get a bit of the bounty,” your captain said, his grinning face now focus on you. “C’mon, I know you want it as bad as the rest of these idiots.”

You smirked. “You know me, sir-” A loud yell came from your right and you turned on your heel, blade at the ready and before the decorated King’s soldier knew what had happened, he was impaled on your sword. You turned back to your captain, your smirk now a wild grin. “I can never turn down a challenge.”

Sailors and King’s soldiers clashed and fought around you whilst you faced two brutes, their weight an advantage, though your nimbleness won the battle; your cutlass in one’s back, your dagger in the other’s neck. 

Battle cries from your crew mates carried you on - a force to be reckoned with, slashing and hacking and impaling your sword against any foe that crossed your path. An armada of King’s men had been slaughtered by the time The Soldat’s crew had slowed, the bloodlust now a low simmer in their ale full bellies.  

Bodies littered The Soldat’s deck, and with the battle now over, you glanced down at yourself to search for injuries you did not feel with the roar of adrenaline in your blood, but found none. 

“Captain,” a sailor to your left started, his voice louder than the shouts of victory. Your captain looked towards the call before briefly glancing at you, a slight smirk on his pretty lips. “What’re we gonna do with the last of the armada–they might send more men.”

“Burn it all, douse them with oil and burn it all down.”

A shiver crawled up your spine at your captain’s words and the men murmured excitedly before rushing off to the lower deck for the barrels kept exactly for this reason.

“First mate,” the captain called, and you looked up sharply, a brow raised. “My quarters, if you please.” He jumped down from the railing and sauntered over, the belts and leather coat swaying with his gait and it was all you could do to keep your attention focused on his icy gaze. “We have many things to discuss for the next course,” he trailed off once he was right in front of you, though the men around were far too busy and excited at their orders to wreak pure destruction on the fallen. “And I have my word to make good on, lass.”

“Yessir,” you said, saluting proudly and he laughed heartily - a sound that warmed you to your core. 

The captain’s cabin was luxurious in furnishings - for what a pirate could get his thieving hands on, this you knew, but the majesty of the room never ceased to amaze with the dark stained wood of the walls and floor while pops of red and silver accented the room. Your boot falls were muted on the many rugs strewn over the floor, and you sat down on the edge of his bed with a weary sigh. 

Battle was exhausting. Though, you never grew weary or tired of unsheathing your blade and fighting alongside the crew.

The sun had fallen below the horizon by the time your captain finally strode into his cabin, the door shutting with a loud click and rattle of the ornate glass. “You look exhausted, my love,” he started, shucking his coat off and hanging it on a hook by the door. “Are you injured?”

“‘M fine, handsome,” you sighed, smiling up at him as he slowly walked over to stand between your knees. While waiting for him, you had stripped from the bloodiest of your clothes and thrown one of his blouses, a poet shirt he had taken after a bloody wager. “Though I am tired and ready to sleep for eternity.”

“I will join you then,” Bucky smiled, his calloused hand cupping your jaw before he moved away to strip away the black leather adorning his muscled chest and thighs. 

You hummed and shuffled on his bed until your back rested against the headboard. “Don’t you have something for me, captain?”

“You know we are safe here, my love. It’s Bucky, unless you want to call me sir, I don’t mind,” Bucky purred. The slight clink of his swords being hung on the wall echoed loudly in the charged silence, but you smiled. You knew this game. 

“I know you have something for me, sir,” you breathed, and Bucky looked over his shoulder at you with a brow raised. “You promised, and I did win that wager… didn’t I?”

Bucky turned to face you, though he kept a hand behind his back and you narrowed your eyes in suspicion. “You did, my love, the deadliest lass I’ve ever seen.” He stepped closer to his bed and lifted his hand, beckoning you closer. “C’mere.”

“Why?”

“Because I said so,” Bucky replied, the authority unmistakeable in his tone. “Come here.”

You rolled your eyes in defiance and Bucky stared through you, straight into your soul it felt. The darkening of his normally ocean grey eyes made you pause, what was he going to do? “Fine,” you muttered and you scooted forward so your legs dangled off the side of his bed, resting them either side of his. 

“Good girl.” Bucky’s hand ran through your hair and moved it so it fell down your shoulder. “Now, I promised you something from this bounty and the coffers–of course, I had to get my girl the best,” he said, drawing his hand out from behind his back. “And the best just happened to be this.”

You looked towards his hand and your mouth fell open in a silent gasp of shock. Diamonds and jewels glinted in the warm candle light; the red of the rubies casted a red reflection onto Bucky’s palm while the silver of the diamonds shimmered like the rays of the sun on high tide. 

“Oh, my-” Was all you managed before Bucky bent at the hip and kissed you hard, distracting you from the heavy weight of the necklace while he clasped it around your neck. “Bucky!” 

“What?” Bucky smirked. “You don’t want me to be sweet on you? Don’t want me to love on you, is that it?”

“No! No, no it’s not,” you began, trying to process the weight of the jewels and diamonds around your neck and resting against your chest. “I-I do want that,” you murmured. Bucky’s hand cupped your chin and forced your gaze up so he could stare into your eyes. “I just- thank you, it’s beautiful.”

Bucky smiled softly and bent to kiss your forehead. “Not as beautiful as you, my love.” He stepped away and toed off his bloodied boots, kicking them to the corner before tossing off his undershirt. “Nothing on God's green earth will ever come close to your beauty, nothing.”

The statement made butterflies bloom in your stomach and you smiled shyly. 

“Now, let's sleep for eternity, hmm?” Bucky gestured for you to move. “Get comfortable, my love. I want to join you.”

Soft cotton sheets rustled while you moved and settled on to Bucky’s bed, your head coming to rest on his pillow. You sighed happily when the bed shifted under Bucky’s weight as he settled behind you, your back flush against his bare, toned chest. “You did so well today, my love,” Bucky murmured and you smiled. “Did your captain proud.”

“Thank you, sir,” you whispered and Bucky tensed behind you.

“None of that, you little minx,” Bucky said and you giggled, shuffling back against the warmth of his muscled body. His arm rested over your waist and moved to cradle you, a possessive move that he knew you adored - it made you feel loved, protected. “Sleep now, my love.”

The last thing you remembered before sleep pulled you under its swell was the weight of the diamonds and jewels on your neck, and how it remarkably felt like your captain would now always be with you. 

⠈⠂⠄ 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 oneshot #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes imagine #pirate au #pirate bucky #navy and roo's sleepover #rookthorne's works #Treasure

[wkemeup]

Sky Full of Song (7)

series summary: Despite the bitter resentment of the crew, you found a home on Captain Barnes’ ship. But when course is plotted for a legendary island, the secret that has kept you alive for years is threatened to be revealed. Pirate/Siren AU

pairings: pirate!bucky x pirate/siren!reader

chapter word count: 7k

warnings: canon level violence, a moment of confrontation, shit goes down 

🏴‍☠️ series masterlist // series playlist

You woke with a crick in your neck.  

Sleep took you swiftly after Dugan retreated up the stairs, your body depleted from rush of ocean currents over sore muscles and the use of the siren’s song. You wouldn’t regain its power again for at least another week – and that was assuming your recovery time was the same as it was as a child when you’d used it without understanding its consequences on your muddied mortal blood.  

It was an awful feeling to strip someone of their free will. Your father had warned you once that it would entice you, that it would draw you in like the shiny gems you chased across the seas, that it would ravage your mind like a disease. It was an addiction, he’d told you. An addiction to the power it would give you over another – to bend their will to your own making.  

There was no piece of you that did not feel unnerved and shamed for the use of the siren’s song. No shred of satisfaction in the power it lent you – power that sought to destroy you as easily as it would its victim. You’d broken the will of the one man who risked everything to give you a chance aboard his ship, who had sought to save your life despite knowing his own path would lead him to the depths of the water.  

There was no coming back from that betrayal.  

The siren’s song never held an appeal for you before. It had only been something you coexisted with, learned to ignore within yourself. Now, it felt like a plague. A weapon you could not shake from your body. A shameful burden you would carry with you for the rest of your life. No matter how short that may be.  

You groaned as you pushed yourself upright, leaning against the outer bars of the cell. Hay stuck into your still dampened hair, clinging to the sweat on your skin. Fragments of the straws caught within the barbed necklace laced around your throat – prickles of fresh blood bubbling over the dried bits around the barbs. Your shoulders ached from where your arms were constricted at the base of your spine, bindings still wrapped at your wrists. Raw and bloodied skin rubbed against the ropes.  

Slowly, your eyes began to adjust to the dim light of the brig. A single candle was hung in the far distance beyond the cell, offering only a glimpse of light. The darkness it carried seemed to leave behind something under your skin – an uneasiness, an awful sense of loneliness despite the dozens of men stomping their boots about the deck.  

You’d never once felt lonely on this ship. Not even under the knowledge that most of the crew resented your place amongst their ranks. No – you had the ocean, you had the small group of friends you’d made of good, decent men. You had your captain.  

Had.  

You swallowed back a lump burning in your throat, tears threatening your eyes. The sharp edges of the barbed collar pierced your skin with every strangled inhale. It hurt no less than the splintering in your chest. 

A slight shift of movement within the brig stilled you to stone. You held your breath, wondering whether Lawrence had snuck into the cellar to be rid of you before the captain could carry out his own justice.

Would that be better, you wondered. Easier, perhaps? To never have to see the look of disgust in your captain’s eyes? 

A figure was sitting on the barrels of rum, just outside the cell. You weren’t sure how you’d missed it before – shadows covering his face, his hands busy cleaning a trusted revolver. Blending into the darkness as if he were made for it. As if it welcomed him home. As if he’d been there for hours, waiting patiently in the solitude.  

“My men are intent on throwing you overboard,” came the voice of your captain.  

Your heart stumbled on its beat.  

Slowly, Bucky leaned into the soft reflection of light from the nearby window. It coated over the lines on his face, the sharp clench of his jaw, sinking into the startling blue of his eyes. Still – he gave you no read on whether he was among those same men readying to end your life for your betrayal.  

“I know what the crew believe you to be,” he continued, standing as he pulled the keys to the cell from his pocket, twisting them among nimble fingertips, “but I also know what they thought of you before we crossed paths with this damned island. I’m not particularly inclined to trust their judgement.” 

You watched his every movement as Bucky slid the key into the lock and unlatched the door. He paused for a minute on the threshold of the cage and you wondered if he was carrying lingering hesitancy for his innate compassion towards you, if he chastised that part of himself that may still care for the monster locked away in the cell. Still, he opened the door, the hinges crying as they parted. 

“I know I what I saw, Y/n,” Bucky said sternly.  

Your stomach dropped as he admitted to your worst fears. Of course, he remembered. That foolish inclination towards hope would be the end of you far before the men above deck anchored you and threw you to the seas.  

“My memories are not clear, but I know enough,” Bucky continued. Though, there was a sliver of uncertainty in his voice, a slight shift of a question at the end of every word – as if he was looking to you to confirm what he already knew to be true.  

Bucky raked a hand through his hair as he paced through the cell. “I remember jumping ship. I remember being... stripped apart – like that siren had burrowed a hole into me and tore away everything that ever made me who I was. It made me forget my men, my life on this ship... you. I was going to die at that siren’s hand.” 

His gaze met yours, blue eyes searching for answers. “I know Lawrence took the wax from your ears and I... I panicked. I don’t– I’ve never felt like that before. The thought of losing you to the sirens...” Bucky shook his head, as if to rid the possibility from his mind. He exhaled a slow, steady breath to calm his racing heart. “But you didn't fall prey to the song, did you? Too many seconds passed by without it claiming your mind.” 

Tears blurred your eyes as you watched him riddle out his own disbelief, trying to make sense of what you had done. He paced over the creaking floors, wringing his hands. You wondered how long he waited in the darkness, wrestling with the vague pieces he remembered of his time under the water and the woman he thought he knew. Wrestling with the godawful sting of betrayal that came with it.  

Your father hadn’t had glimpses into his time with the siren like this. He had barely been able to retain a faded memory of what happened to him. Your captain should not remember as much as he did. You could blame it on your dirty blood or a connection shared between you that held beyond even the power of the siren. It didn’t matter, you supposed. He knew enough to condemn you.  

Bucky ceased in his pacing, his back to you. Slowly he turned over his shoulder, truly looking at you for the first time since he opened the door to the cell. The slight flicker of his gaze to the bloodied marks on your neck did not slip your notice, nor did the flex in his fist as he squeezed it tight. He appeared to force himself to look away, pulling his focus to your eyes.  

“But somehow, still in control of your own will, you followed me into siren infested waters. You killed the creature intent on taking my life,” Bucky went on, softer this time. He swallowed then, as though the coming words were heavy upon his tongue – drying as sandpaper. Still, he continued.  

“But then, you started singing and that same feeling pushed into my soul again – like it had burrowed into my basic instincts, shifting them to a will I didn’t recognize,” Bucky said, surely condemning you. Lead solidified in your stomach, in your chest, in your lungs, until you could hardly breathe.  

“Only,” Bucky continued, a startling tenderness in his voice that nearly shattered you, “I didn’t feel unmade like I had before. It didn’t feel like an invasion. It... it just felt like you.” 

Slowly, Bucky sank to his knees at the barrel where you sat. His gaze carefully looked over you, taking in the new bruising and cuts he hadn’t seen above deck amongst the chaos, and his jaw clenched. A darkness clouded over the blue in his eyes but it wasn’t anything like how the siren’s song laid claim to the striking color. Instead of it closing him off from you, they offered a glimpse of vulnerability, a crack in his armor. 

He looked away, the stone fading from his features. 

“You kissed me,” Bucky said simply and your heart nearly shattered on impact.  

He shouldn’t have remembered that. He couldn’t. Because that would be your undoing. It would spell your end. If he hadn’t been convinced of the monster in your blood, then the siren’s kiss was all the proof he needed.  

But he didn’t flinch away from you in disgust. When he looked at you again, a strange weight clung to his features – a heaviness, an aching, you couldn’t quite place.  

“Much of it is a blur to me, but I...” Bucky sighed, brushing his fingertips over his bottom lip, as if to touch the memory itself, “I remember the kiss.” 

His lips parted and swiftly closed, making you wonder whether there was more he left unsaid. If he remembered the taste of your lips, how they molded so perfectly against his own. If he remembered how your body felt pressed against his – his hands snaking around your waist to brush the skin of your lower back. Because you remembered. You remembered every second of that kiss. 

His eyes flickered back to the collar around your neck and his jawline flexed. He took in a steady breath and then, carefully, began to reach a hand to you – familiar, and still, you could not trust it. Not after every warning your father had instilled in you of the men who would sooner slit your throat and dissect your remains should they learn of your truth. Your breath hitched as Bucky’s hand drew near to your neck, your body tensing, and he froze.  

His brow pinched at the center and what appeared to be a deep, unsettling sadness crossed the blue of his eyes. You weren’t sure what you were expecting him to do. It had never once crossed your mind before these Isles that he might try to hurt you, to silence you himself with his own bare hands, but still your body reacted as if he might.  

He’d promised to interrogate you, hadn’t he? You’d seen how the darkness crept into the captain you knew when he crossed the threshold into this cell – how he’d beat his knuckles raw in search of information more times than you were able to count. It was an effective method; well proven in his many years leading this crew.  

And yet— 

Bucky held up his hands apprehensively, giving you a moment to recognize the lack of malice in his eyes, the ginger nature of his touch. You could not find a trace of the darkness you prepared yourself to find. Instead, Bucky dipped his head in a reassuring nod as he carefully reached for your neck again – slower this time, allowing you to watch his every movement.  

His fingertips grazed your skin and you nearly whimpered at the touch – the gentleness of it. Holding your gaze, Bucky unlatched the barbed collar from around your neck, carefully prying the sharp edges from your skin and granting you the levity of the stale air in the brig. You drew in a shallow, shaken breath.  

Bucky exhaled tensely as he settled his thumb to the cuts on your neck, the deep scratches where the pronged edges of the necklace had jabbed to your skin. He touched you as if he might be able to wipe the wounds away as easily as he did the blood, as if he could heal you himself. He tossed the collar to the other side of the cell with force. It clung against the metal of the bars.  

“You saved my life, Y/n,” Bucky admitted to the silence of the cell. His hand remained along your neck, examining the marks there. You were certain he could feel the pounding race of your heartbeat through his fingertips.  

Slowly, he allowed himself to meet your gaze again. “None of it makes any sense to me. These things I remember... What the men insist happened... What we know to be true about the sirens... I need you to tell me the truth. I need you to trust me with this, to help me understand.” 

You stared helplessly back at him. You’d never trusted anyone the way you had Bucky, but you’d sworn to keep this secret your entire life. Men would kill you out of fear or ignorance or sport if they learned what you were; might try to use you to evade the sirens or tear you apart in search of what made you born of the ocean. You father had made you promise to never tell a living soul of the siren’s blood in your veins – not even those you believed you could trust.  

Because no one trusted a siren. 

No one.  

“Y/n,” Bucky tried again, a strain etching into his voice. Desperation, maybe. “Talk to me. It’s only us down here. Only me. You know that I would never...” 

He forced out a tense breath as if he could hardly say the words aloud: the very possibility that he would hurt you.  

“Please...” he whispered, begged, “just say something.” 

You parted your lips, trying to force out the words your captain wanted from you – to confirm what he already knew, to give name to the monster you were. But it lodged in your throat, muffled as if you still wore the barbed wire around your vocal cords. You’d spent too many years suffocated by this secret, by the paralyzing fears of what it meant to trust someone with it, and now—you were drowning in it.  

Tears slipped over your cheeks. Burdened in shame, you looked away. 

Bucky exhaled, his head dipping. Defeat drew lines along his face.  

He didn’t say anything as he rose to his feet and brushed the dirt from his knees. Disappointment weighed on his shoulders as he left through the open cell door. He closed it behind him and locked the bars, lingering just beyond the barrier in hopes you might change your mind. But the silence was crippling and he turned away from you.  

Perhaps it was too painful to look at the monster he once trusted, to see betrayal personified in the women who would have done anything for him. 

Or— 

Or maybe, he was as lost as you felt. Confused. Uncertain. Greiving the loss of what he thought he knew and desperate to understand what fell in its place. Maybe he wasn’t like the men your father warned you about. Maybe... your father was wrong.  

Because even if you knew little else, you knew Bucky was a good man. You knew his compassion outweighed the rumors of his ruthlessness. You knew he trusted you with things he would not dare show the rest of the crew. Perhaps, he would not see you as the monster his crew argued you to be. 

He’d always been different, hadn’t he? You'd known that from the first moment you saw him on that pier, smirking at the little girl who’d chased down her bully with a hairbrush in hand. If anyone was to be worthy of this truth, of this secret that would surely spell your death to any other man, it would be your captain.  

And you let him walk away.  

He neared the stairs, almost out of view, and fear lurched inside you.  

It was crippling, agonizing – the panic that you might lose him not to the sirens or the muddied blood in your veins, but to your own volition, to your own cowardice. 

“Wait,” you called after him, but your voice was too shattered, too broken by the song to be heard above the creaking of the ship. He continued his ascent up the stairs, each step cleaving a fracture through your heart. 

Your hands began to shake.  

“Wait... stop...” you tried again, your voice slowly gaining back strength. But it wasn’t enough. You could see the weight pressing into Bucky’s shoulders, the heaviness of each step. He was nearly to the top.  

You sat up straighter, determination drowning away the burning ache in your chest, demanding strength to your voice. 

“Bucky—” 

He stilled dead in his tracks.  

It wasn’t that you’d spoken, or that your voice was tarnished from the song and the collar. No – he stilled so suddenly because it was the first time his name had come from your lips. Not ‘Captain.’ Not ‘Barnes.’ 

Bucky.  

Slowly, he turned. His lips parted; breath heavy in his chest as he studied you. Something in him softened under the weight of his own name in your voice, a shiver in his bones. His hands clenched at his side though he made no movement toward you.  

“Wait.” You swallowed back tears; the distance between you physically aching. “Please... don’t go. I’ll tell you everything. Anything. Just... don’t... don’t go.” 

A sob cut through and before you could wipe your eyes on the shoulder of your damp blouse, Bucky had rushed the remaining distance and reopened the cell door, his strong frame kneeling in front of you. Your hands began to tremble violently against the ropes and he set a comforting hand upon your knee, urging you to speak.  

“It’s true,” you whispered, your words still broken and raspy in the effort. “It’s all true. I’m... I’m so sorry.” 

There was no flicker of surprise on his face. If anything, there was a level of relief you couldn’t quite understand. His hand rubbed tenderly along your thigh, drawing the trembling from your muscles and the shakiness from your hands.  

“How is this possible?” he asked steadily, softly.  

“I'm only half blood.” You drew back the taste of bitterness on your tongue. “My mother was a siren. So little of me is made of her, but it’s enough for others to fear me. I only used the song once before when I was a child, when I didn’t know any better. I never intended to use it again. You have to believe me. I never wanted to use it again.” A rock burned at your throat, threatening to choke you, to suffocate you. “But you... you jumped and I had to do something. You kept swimming after the siren, even after I killed her. You would have drowned if I hadn’t used the song on you and I couldn’t let you—” 

"You hid this from me,” Bucky said, his voice laced thick with remorse as the words died upon your lips, “all these years. Why?” 

You stilled, stunned by his question until you absorbed the sincerity in his words. His thumb brushed gentle strokes along your knee, a tenderness you’d hardly been able to grasp before he knew what you were and now... He did not flinch from you, did not revolt in disgust. He still showed you the same kindness, the same trust and care.  

But you had needed to protect yourself and your secret – even from him. It was the only way your survived.  

“Look where I am,” you exhaled, gesturing to the bars encasing you in the brig and the ropes tied at your wrists. “Can you blame me? The crew already distrusts me as a woman. If they knew what my mother was... it wouldn’t just be taunts and dirty looks. They would have killed me.” You looked out to the window where a glimpse of ocean water crashed against the foggy glass. “They still might.” 

“I won’t let that happen,” Bucky retorted sharply, his words coated in a stern determination that made your heart clench. He squeezed your knee. “Do you hear me? I won’t let anyone hurt you.” 

He flinched as his gaze dropped to the dried blood on your neck.  

“I won’t... I won’t let them hurt you beyond what I have already shamefully allowed,” Bucky carefully amended, guilt pressed heavy on his features. “I have failed you. You saved me and I... I failed you. I will never deserve your forgiveness, but know that I will do everything in my power to ensure you are safe from those men. To my last breath, I swear that to you.” 

Your lips parted, trying to find the right words – to understand how he could possibly still look at you the way he was now, how he could so easily rush to your defense despite the years you spent lying to him of your true nature, of the monster you were under the surface. All this and still – he found a way to carry the blame himself.  

All you could force beyond your lips was a disbelieving “...what?” 

Bucky stroked his hands down your arms and gingerly took his pocket knife to the ropes binding your hands. As they slid from your wrists and the cool touch of air coaxed over the burns, you shivered, hissing at the burning sensation left in its wake. He helped to ease your hands to your lap, careful of the soreness in your shoulders from keeping your hands locked at the small of your back for so long. You winced at the tenderness, the dull ache, though it was long forgotten as Bucky drew your hands to his mouth and tenderly kissed the wounds. 

Your breath soon left you entirely.  

“I have always cared for you, Y/n. More than I should,” he admitted, the warmth of his lips lingering over your skin. “You risked everything when you jumped in the water after me. You saved my life. Whatever blood runs through your veins does not usurp the woman I know, does not take her from me and morph her into a creature I can easily despise.” 

You watched him as he held your hands in his own, how easily he touched you. It felt like a dream, one where you were not the monster your mother made you to be.  

“You’re... You’re not afraid of me?” 

Something sank in Bucky’s eyes at your question. The ocean blue currents cracking as his gaze flicker to your swollen wrists. A lingering guilt rose to the surface, painting into the lines on his face.  

“My fear is not for the siren in you,” he said simply, with such sincerity it nearly broke you. “It is for the blade of our enemy that comes too close to your neck, for the recklessness you are so often prone to, for the overwhelming pull I feel towards you that renders me helpless beyond what I can take. That is what I fear, my love. Not you. Never you.” 

“But I— I lied to you,” you argued though your own tears, unwilling to accept his easy forgiveness, unable to understand how he could so blindly trust you when you’d spent years hiding from him. “I betrayed you. You should be lining up to throw me to the sea with the rest of the crew.” 

“You think so little of me?” Bucky questioned, pained as his lips curved to a frown. “You truly believe me capable of laying harm to you? That I would disregard your years upon this ship and every time you have saved my life and the lives of these men? Why? Because you carry siren’s blood? Because you have an incredible – albeit, terrifying – power? You were protecting yourself with this secret. I know that. As much as I wish you had trusted me with this, I know why you couldn’t. I’ll admit that I don’t quite understand it all, but I don’t need to. I know you. I trust you. That is enough for me.” 

Bucky’s fingertips ghosted along your cheek, brushing away the tears as they slid over your jawline. “I swore once that I would protect you. I meant that.” 

It shattered whatever remained of your doubts, of the guilt and shame you carried for hiding the truth from your captain. This impossible man who had granted you far more than he could ever know. He saved you – in more ways than one – the day he agreed to take you aboard his ship. You’d never known loyalty and quiet affection until you met him.  

“This is why you sought to keep us from these waters, isn’t it?” Bucky said quietly, the realization heavy. “All this time, you knew what we would find here. That it might expose you. You knew it could end like this, even as I pleaded for your blessing to travel to this island. You agreed to train the same men who would turn against you in a moment if they knew your truth. You did this... because I asked it of you.” 

The guilt weighing in his voice bottomed in your stomach. And still, you nodded, unwilling to lie to him a moment longer. “I only wished to keep you safe.” 

A sad smile lifted the edges of his lips. Beautiful, even amongst the dim lighting of the single candle and the faded sunlight marked by clouds and stained glass. Always beautiful.  

"Then we have that in common, don’t we?” There was a breath of laughter in his voice.

His right hand gently pushed the dampened hair from your face, tucking it safely behind your ear. His smile began to fade the longer he looked at you – sinking not into a frown, but into something else entirely. Something that resembled awe. Longing.  

“Bucky...” you exhaled his name and you watched as a shiver trembled over him.  

Your gaze flickered to his lips – the full pink restored in color from his time under the water. His hand cupped at the side of your face, holding you steady, gently, as he drew you closer, as you neared him. Heart pounding, skin thrumming in anticipation. His lips were but a breath from yours.  

“Captain!” a voice shouted from the stairs.  

You pulled apart as footsteps bounded down from the deck. You turned to find Morita and Jones rushing into the brig with wide, panicked looks in their eyes. They did not seem surprised by the lack of the collar and bindings, nor the captain’s close proximity to you.  

Bucky jumped to his feet, his body quickly shielding yours. “What is it?” 

“The crew,” Morita replied, panting as his worried gaze shot in your direction. “They’re growing restless. They’re gathering chains.” 

Your stomach dropped as Bucky reached for you. His arm darted across your chest, acting as a barrier. You both knew what the chains meant – weights to carry you to the bottom of the ocean, to rob you of the air in your lungs and force you to the home you never truly belonged in.  

“I’m still the captain here,” Bucky snarled. “They can’t do a damn thing against her without my say.” 

“I don’t believe the crew recognizes that anymore, sir,” said Jones. “Dugan is trying to keep them at ease, but they will come for her. Soon.” 

Bucky held the steel in his bones for only a moment longer, contemplating his options. A war seemed to rage inside his mind; his frequent glances to the light seeping in through the open stairway lingered before he turned to you. The hardened lines of his muscles began to soften as his gaze filtered over the raw wounds on your wrists, the speckles of blood on your neck, the reflection of tears on your cheeks. He took one final look to the stairs before his shoulders sank, a tired determination rising to the surface. 

“Ready the rowboat,” he ordered. “We shouldn’t be more than a few days journey from land. We’ll need enough supplies to get safely to shore.” 

“What?” you gaped. “No, you— you can’t do that! I won’t let you give up this ship for me. Your legacy is everything to you and I’m not worth—” 

“Don’t you dare.” Bucky grabbed a firm hold of your forearm, still cautious of the bruising, and pulled you close enough to feel the heat of his breath. “Don’t insinuate for a second that this ship means more to me than your life. We’ll find a new vessel. A new crew. Take one if we have to. I don’t want this one if they’re out for your blood.” 

Despite the hardened stone on his features, Bucky’s touch to the edge of your cheek carried such tenderness it drew a breathy gasp from your lips. His thumb eased away the lingering tears on your skin, his thumb brushing dangerously close to your lips. Your argument died on your tongue. 

Bucky let a weakened smile curve at the ends of his mouth. It wasn’t enough to reach his eyes – not with the chaos brewing above deck, but it eased the burden from his features. He pressed his lips against your temple, lingering a few seconds longer than needed before he turned back to Jones.  

“Let’s get out of here. Now. Before they—” 

Heavy footsteps pounded on the old, wooden stairs. One after another. Slow in succession. Determined. Confident. Each stormed like thunder inside your chest, rattling every nerve in your body.  

Lawrence was the first to emerge from the shadows, several of the crew behind him carrying weapons in hand. All of which were pointed directly at you. There was no mistaking the malice upon their faces nor the certainty with which they aimed their weapons. They were here to kill the monster in the brig.  

“Step out of the way, Captain,” Lawrence growled, though his stare remained on you as if it could burrow a hole between your eyes. Disgust was not a strong enough word to contain the glare he carried. 

You longed for the dagger and revolver that had once held home on your hips.  

Bucky inched himself in front of you; his body acting a shield. The flash of surprise on his crew’s faces did not go unnoticed.  

“Don’t do this, Lawrence,” Bucky warned, his stance steady.  

But Lawrence did not tear his gaze from yours. His teeth bared as if he were foamed at the mouth; rabid in his fury. “Do you have any idea the havoc she could wreak upon us? You allowed this creature to be unmuzzled when she could lure every last one of us to our deaths!” 

“She is not what you think she is,” Bucky said slowly – the contrast to Lawrence’s crazed anger stark.  

“She is exactly what we always believed her to be! A curse!” Lawrence roared, spit flailing from his lips. “We must put an end to the monster before it has a chance to do the same to us!” 

Bucky unlatched the safety on his revolver. Stunned gasps echoed through the crew as Lawrence straightened his back. The men behind him held their weapons higher; a stand-off in the middle of the brig. Some of the crew’s weapons were trembling in their hands, fear of their own captain drawing hesitancy to their convictions.  

"She is not your enemy,” Bucky growled as he adjusted the leverage of his gun, “but if you don’t step aside, I’m about to be.” 

Lawrence licked at his lips; a deadly silence masked only by the crash of waves against the rim of the ship coating the brig. “So be it.” 

Gunfire rang in your ears and you were thrown to the ground. Deafening ringing numbed the rest of your senses as you struggled under the weight of Bucky’s body, your forearms scraping against the exposed nails between the wooden boards.  

Chaos surrounded you. Once, you would have thrived upon it. You would have breathed in the rush of adrenaline and smiled – but your body was still weakened from the aftermath of the siren’s song. Your energy was drained; your precision with a blade and a bullet hazy, even if you could manage to get your hands on a weapon. There was little fight left in your body as Bucky, Jones, and Morita desperately tried to defend you from the rest of the crew.  

 Someone managed to wrangle Bucky to his knees and it was only then that you saw the blood dripping down the front of his face. Someone had struck him – enough to break his nose – and your stomach lurched at the sight. Morita and Jones followed, various cuts on his arms and snags in the fabric of their clothing from the blade of their own crewmen. A blade darted out across Bucky’s throat and your heart plummeted far beyond the wood of the ship, deep into the sinking abyss of the waters below. 

“Stop!” you shrieked, though your voice broke in the effort. You held your bloodied wrists out for the crew, panicked. Surrendering. Desperate for someone to restrain you instead. “Do what you must with me. Just leave them out of this. Please.” 

Bucky’s eyes widened. Panic lacing deep through his veins as he struggled to free himself to no avail. Lawrence stepped forward, a sickening grin curling at the edges of his mouth, and Bucky’s gaze narrowed to deadly precision.  

“You lay another fucking hand on her and I swear you to Lawrence, I’ll cut it off!” Bucky roared, caring little for the blade at his throat as it dug into his skin. Tiny speckles of blood dripped from the cuts as he fought his restraints.  

Lawrence wrapped his grimy fingers around your wrists despite the captain’s warning, his thumbs digging painfully into your wounds as he wrapped heavy metal chains where rope had once been. You winced at the friction, which only seemed to delight him.  

He turned to Bucky. “I’m doing you a favor, Captain. I’m doing all of us a favor. You'll see.” 

But Bucky only bared his teeth, his body seething with rage. Blood dripped down to his collarbone.  

With your wrists crossed in front of you, Lawrence grabbed hold of the remaining links and dragged you viciously towards the steps. The momentum forced you to follow as you stumbled over your own feet. You nearly lost your balance on the first step, but the chains dragged you along, even as you bruised your shins against the wood.  

“Get her to the plank! Quickly!” one of the unnamed crew shouted from the deck as you stepped out into the blinding heat of sunlight. You blinked through the startling brightness, trying to adjust after nearly a full day of being kept below deck.  

When you were finally able to see again, you found Dugan tied to the mast at the center of the ship. Jim and Gabe soon followed as ropes were secured around their wrists. But it was Bucky they kept restrained by his arms as they led you to the edge of the ship. They forced him to his knees with a heavy thud, resistance etched to stone in every ounce of his muscle. It took four of his men to hold him down and a blade against his throat before he finally stilled.  

You stood silently at the edge of the ship as Lawrence tied weights to your ankles. Amongst his roughened hands and the latch of metal pinching at your skin, your gaze fixed on Bucky’s. There was nothing left to be done. You’d sealed your fate the moment you dove into the water after him, exposing your song and the siren in your history to the men who were so easily threatened by your presence.  

It was foolish to believe even for a moment that you could have escaped this ending. That your life had not always been meant to end in this way. 

Your heart pounded miserably inside your chest as you held his gaze. His lips were parted, breaths heavy in his chest – he looked as though his heart might have been ripped straight through his ribs for the panic and devastation on his features had all but consumed him. You offered him a small smile, one that barely touched your eyes to simply have this one moment left with your captain – one moment of peace to hold within the kind ocean blue of his gaze. 

But Bucky would not let you go quietly. 

“You would murder one of your own?!” Bucky demanded of the crew, the effort drawing the blade over his throat. Drops of crimson bubbled from the cut on his skin. “She has been a part of this crew for years and never once laid harm to a single one of you! She was the one who sought to protect you from the sirens in the waters of the Aglaope Isles! She warned you of this coast! Does that not give you pause?” 

Several of the crew blinked, some taken back. Others, snarled their teeth – unbothered.  

“Look at her!” Bucky ordered as blood slipped down his collar. “She’s without the collar and yet she does not use the song against you! Not even to save her own life! She is not the monster you claim she is! Stop this!” 

It didn’t matter that you were depleted far beyond your ability to use the song again so soon. It should have been enough that it never once crossed your mind to do so in the years spent aboard this ship – fighting alongside this crew, eating with them, sailing with them. Even among their constant harassment and taunting. It should have been enough.  

“Our captain has been blinded by the siren’s charms!” Lawrence announced to the crew, stomping upon their doubts as if he could crumble it under the sole of his boot. “She is every bit the demons that stole our brothers from us! We will condemn this creature to an eternity in chains at the bottom of the ocean for her crimes!” 

Many still cheered.  

But not all.  

“You’ll kill her!” Bucky warned, his voice growing hoarse in his desperation. His anger quickly evolved to panic. “She’s not full blood, Lawrence! She won’t survive under the water!” 

Lawrence paused, a sinister smirk curving up at the corners of his lips. “Then it is a fitting death for a half-breed.” He turned back to the crew; one hand grasped at the chains around your wrist, the other pushed up above his head in a rallying cry. “I say we let her drown!” 

Applause broke out, sinking a dead weight in your stomach, sealing your fate. Bucky looked out to his crew and something shattered on his face – his eyes wide, his breaths coming in shallow and trembling. 

“Don’t do this,” Bucky’s strangled voice carried through the cheers. “Lawrence... please. You don't have to do this.” 

Lawrence paused, but only long enough spit at the deck. “She’s made you weak. Pathetic. I will free you of her spell and soon, Captain, you will thank me.” 

But Bucky only shook his head, an awful mixture of disbelief and agony warping its way through his features. His knees trembled, nearly giving out under him, and still, he fought against the men securing him with every ounce of strength he had left.  

You met Bucky’s frantic gaze from across the deck – his own eyes brimmed red and reflective with unshed tears under the setting sun – and in an impossible moment, you tried to convey the years of unspoken words you never had a chance to tell him. 

Your appreciation for the day he offered you a place amongst his crew.  

The pride you felt sailing under his flag – the legend of a ruthless pirate who displayed more honor than men of the crown who wore colorful pins upon the breast of their uniforms.  

The aching need to be close to him, to feel the steady pulse of his heart under your fingertips and ease the pain lingering from his wounds.  

Feelings beyond what you had ever been able to put name to; stronger that the rush of panic as Lawrence dragged you to the ledge, deeper than the ocean’s floor you’d soon find a home in. Feelings that ripped through your chest and begged for every inch of him. Feelings that rendered you foolish and reckless enough to expose your nature to the very men who would soon take your life for it. 

But there wasn’t enough time to confess any of it.  

Lawrence shoved a heavy hand to your chest and you began to stumble.  

Bucky kicked out the knee of one of the men holding him restrained in a terrible crack, creating a small opening that let him break free of their hold. They lunged for him as he dove from their reach. Sprinting. Your name a terrible, frantic plea his lips. 

Your feet left the ground, the railing digging into your spine.  

Bucky lunged for you, but a sword swung down in his path. Lawrence.  

Freefall.  

You hit the water. Enclosing around you. Cold. Ice Cold.  

And then – silence.  

You held your last breath of air deep into your lungs. It would last you longer than you should have been allowed as a human; a few extra minutes at most. For what, you weren’t sure. There was no freeing yourself of the chains as you sank deeper into the water.  

This was it. The end. The icy embrace of the waters you had called home your entire life.  

Perhaps it had always known you would return to its clutches. Even in death.  

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky x reader #bucky barnes x female reader #pirate au #pirate!bucky #pirate x siren

[unfilteredthotspot]

this just makes sense to me

#steve harrington #eddie munson #steve rogers #bucky barnes #steve x eddie #stevebucky #stucky #stede bonnet #blackbeard #edward teach #marvel #marvel cinematic universe #stranger things #our flag means death #gay men #lgbtq #captain america #winter soldier #pirates #queer baiting #i don’t know how to fill in the rest #open for interpretation

[seriouslyblacklikemysoul]

This week, the first chapter of the new story will be uploaded and I am so thrilled. Honestly, I know that most of you don't even remember me but hey, it is I. At this point, given how the new algorithm works and the fact that I haven't been all that active, I know that the stories don't reach many people. I don't care about the likes and the notes. I just wish that if someone wants to read something they will be able to find it. Enjoy June and stay wild and kind!

#pirate #Pirates #pirate and siren #siren #pirate and siren au #sirens #mermaid #moodboard #locksreens #wallpaper #mine #a new fic is coming #Bucky Barnes imagine #bucky barnes imagines #pirate bucky Barnes #bucky barnes au #captain Bucky Barnes #sailor #ocean #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes #the winter soldier #winter soldier imagine #marvel imagine #lockscreen

[darkdemeter]

𝐒𝐈𝐑𝐄𝐍, 𝐁𝐄 𝐁𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐃 𝐓𝐎 𝐌𝐄 𝐈𝐈

— BUCKY BARNES COLUMN (ONESHOT)

Dark Pirate! Bucky Barnes x Siren! Female Reader

—- not my gifs, credit to original posters! -—

| A/N | DISCRETION |

A/N — Ey yo let’s go! Here it is, part 2!

Dark, pirate Bucky — possessive Bucky, also feat. possessive reader — profanity — angst! — mention of alcohol — pet names ("Siren") — SMUT 18+ Minors DNI — unprotected (given) p in v sex — mention of marks/hickeys — there be depiction of wenches/prostitutes — semi-exhibitionism — mention of memory wipe through magic — minor cigar consumption (not reader) — very brief depiction of harm against a crew member — Rumlow, he's a bit of a sly creep — I think that's it?

| SUMMARY |

You are his siren. Why do you insist on your curiosity when you know it will only get you into trouble? In your captain's search for the ancient treasure, a temple only you know the location of, the voyage will take momentary port in Nassau. Mina, a fellow siren, reveals to you the dark truth that you have been blind to. Lied to. She encourages you to take back the necklace. The time to be a siren is now, to lure your captain into a false sense of devotion, that your sights and desires only draw to him; and not the necklace bound to his hand and the secrets he's been keeping from you.

*6.1𝐤 ────────────────┘

| M-LIST | TAGLIST:

@identity2212 @sebastianstansqueen @openup-yourmind @kandis-mom @calwitch @cjand10 @ashdoctor @missmarvelophilic @mostlymarvelgirl @daddy-bucky @thegirlwholoveslivesfanfiction @armystay89

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Dawn kisses the horizon’s rolling waters, erasing the wicked hue of intermingling black and blue with colours brighter, more promising, to bloom over sky and sea. A sight that portraits serenity in order to inspire a welling of hope. The flaming orb of heat commands to stir the once slumbering crew into action. Little does it work to awaken your captain, already awake and buried deep in the channel of your cunt, his cock surges forward aggressively, tip kissing your cervix with each powerful snap of his hips. 

  Relentless, he rolls in tandem with the rock of the ship, a string of grunted breaths and deep, stuttering groans thrum in the cavern of his large chest, heart hammering against his ribcage. 

  He pulls from you another countless orgasm to add to another countless hour of this tortuous bliss. A flushing, white and hot, seizes hold of you and beckons your body to respond accordingly, trained in his art of greed your legs drag over the terrain of defined muscle to bring him impossibly closer. Skin melding to inked skin, sweat laced bodies mingling in heated, frictional euphoria. 

  “Y’love that, Siren? Huh,” he pants on the shell of your ear, “love it when I have you full of me?”

  You mewl a small, whiney sound. 

  “Yes—” you intake sharply, “C-Captain…”

  “Aye, say it again.” He growls deeply, teeth nip the lobe of your ear, his nose buried in the crook of your neck inhales deeply the sweet dew of your flushed skin. Rough and strong, his hands have yours pinned, as he does your entire body, pressed against blood-red and snowy white velvets and silks and dark, exotic furs once belonging to pompous princes. Now, they belong to the king of the sea and his siren. Hips rolling together in time, fingers interlacing, woven together in bound strength to hold each other as guarded lifelines, the webbing between your slender digits draws and withdraws from their tucked beds of skin. Pupils conflict between dark, slitted lines and circular globes of blackness blown in pleasure. 

  “Shit… fuck– so fuckin’ tight, Siren!” he hisses, “mine… only mine.”

  Already your core burns enticingly, welcoming another orgasm that follows closely behind your one just prior. His navel arcs to brush your clit, the girth of his cock strikes true each time, he pummels harder and faster, his tip the only portion to remain before he thrusts forward with a moistened glide.

  Corded notes of pleasure are threaded into hitched knots, producing small, hiccuping whines as your abused, slickened walls constrict around his cock to milk him of every drop. The small bridge of your back arches, the smooth surface of your salty skin gliding over the defined divots and scars of his muscular front, inch by inch you feel him everywhere; both outside and inside. 

  He’ll never let you go. As a man who prides himself in the fine freedoms of piracy, he’s a blackened heart that guards you with vigorous possessiveness. Nor do you think you’re capable of ever leaving him. He is all you have. He is yours just as much as you are his. 

  The treasure he covets with unmatched greed. No woman on this earth could ever encounter what you have above you and between your quivering legs that loop tightly over his strong waist. And because of this, you equally covet this treasure of yours. 

  His cock ruts your cervix roughly, tugging forth a long, high noted yelp underlined with a breathy huff, the rhythm of his hips stutters at the sound. His pink lips find yours, tongue drawing over your own, your submission allowing him to do as he pleased. He feeds off the chorus of your breathless song, a song meant just for him. Because of him. 

  “Fuckin’ hell…” His voice rasps, teeth sinking into the bend where your shoulder and neck meet. “Love it when y’sing for m— me.” A gut-emitted groan reverberates in his chest, Skin meets skin in synchronised slapping, raw and primal with need. Wooden legs rub and claw the floorboards with heavy creaks. 

  “L–look atcha… huh, whiney and cock drunk– mmm, gonna make you scream for me, Love.”

  His thrusts grow as ruthless as the brewing storms of the sea, lashing and rocking you beyond the point of refusal. There is no denying, no pushing away. Not when it comes to your captain. 

  “C’mon, Siren—” He pants with a series of rushing thrusts that pin you down. “Sing for me.” 

  The erected peeks of your breasts are tender as they push against his chest. You whimper softly. 

  “Captain…”

  “Aye, louder,” he growls. Of his flesh hand, his knuckles whiten dangerously until the skin melts over bone. Another harsh snap of his hips sends you spiralling on the verge of your orgasm.

  “Captain—” you gasp and he bites down into the bevel between your collarbone with a rasping growl. “Captain!”

  Your velvety walls tighten around the hardened length penetrating you, filling you, his cock encumbered by the vice of your cunt. The blinding flash covers your vision and heat spreads through every corner of your body, leaving nothing but a siren blinded in lustful bliss. He groans with each drag and push, muscles glistening in the soft glow of the rising sun. The flowing wave of his precious seed finds purchase in your lower abdomen. 

  It’s not until he completely empties his hot load, does he finally slow his pace to a stop. Above you he pants heavily, each breath reminding you of the sea’s spray and sun-tainted breeze that tousles the darkened locks of his hair. 

  Your energy sapped from the unbridled temper of your beloved captain, you find reprieve in the gentleness of his tongue tracing the numerous dark marks covering your skin - his marks. 

  “Know this…” His voice rumbles lowly, his flesh hand harbouring the necklace dangles it mere inches over your parted lips. “There is nothing for you to find in a dried pearl, Siren. I am all you need.” 

  Metal squeezes your jawline, pursuing your understanding. The pink tip of his tongue wets his lips and he arches a brow.

  “Yes…”

  You needn’t be jostled twice by the threat of his grasp, you whisper, voice barely audible, “…Captain.”

  “Atta girl.” 

   Arriving at port in Nassau means safe haven for the crew of The Avenger, a chance to rekindle spirits with a few dozen barrels of liquor and a woman’s belly to keep any weathered sailor happy. In the Caribbean’s turning and heating morn, gulls scavenge for pickings of food, the white banks of sand converging with the blue tinged tide bathe the nudity of your feet with absorbed heat, it brings an irate wince to cross your features. Over the vast stretch of beach and headed further inland, the jolly tune of harboured pirates emit from the wooden, creaky shacks, if not counting the ruckus of noisy patrons enjoying their paid company. 

  Never did your captain have need for such sleaziness, such lazed women who lounge in wait for coins to fill the near-always empty drawstring bag tied to their thigh. He had you.   To hold you close to the scorching warmth of his battle hardened body, to passionately entangle your limbs in an endless thread of desire, and to bask in the radiance that is one another; the possession of a companion no other can have.

  And your own guard for your beloved captain doesn’t go unnoticed, by either him or the hungering gazes of those women yet in wait, your arms encircling around the bulk of Bucky’s flesh arm, in your neck the muscles strain as your fangs become elongated in a threatening display, the disguise of your eyes falters into narrow strips of glaring obsidian. 

  These women are no strangers to the presence of sirens, in spite of the limited number of population, a siren’s prize is never to be taken from her. 

  “Easy, Lass,” Bucky coos, lips drawn on either side into a charming grin. “There’s none suiting my fancy but you.”

  His assurances brighten refocused pupils and the lines around your mouth pull into a smirk. The now scornful glares of ladies unworthy of his time burn into you, and you in turn purse the tip of your tongue between your lips in retaliation. Behind, you hear a few members of the crew huff in their amusement. 

  With the crew tailing loyally behind their captain, each body a weighted husk ready to drown themselves in all that Nassau offers, the striking colour of a scarlet coat saunters forward in the corner of your vision. In a briefly stolen glance to your side, the brilliance of her green irises invade you with a soulless engagement, full lips drawn into a thin line and below the crimson stripe of her bandana, her brows are furrowed. 

  It comes to mind Bucky’s attendance on deck to anchor the ship at port, and so too does the possible thought that during that increment amount of time, Bucky could have very well informed Wanda of your curious skirmish ending in upheaval, caught red handed in the act. 

  And yet the events, the memory of what you experienced - the estranged bond you shared with the necklace - all of it remains. No bouts of stomach churning nausea or blurred hazes that leave you to stumble on your two feet, abandoning you to the mindless plane of confusion where memory is your worst and forgotten enemy. 

  And you prefer to keep it that way. These invasions that leave you more curious, sensing something greatly amiss the more of its occurrence is known, perhaps it’s best if you surrender the search. Your captain is all you need. Nevermind the ghostly songs that haunt the realm beneath the surface. Maybe, just maybe, there is good reason why you don’t remember anything. And if you cease this affair, then maybe with the grace of your beloved, that there will be no need to be swallowed into the misty thicket of her dark, scarlet magic. 

  I am my captain’s siren. I must remain with him. He is all I have. All I want to have…

    ‘Mm hm, mm hm, mm~hmm~hm~mm… mhm.,.’

  The melody chimes to lure your attention, the trickery of the voices blooms thickly throughout the forefront of your mind. You press to ignore the empty promise of their secrets revealed. This search ends now. No more. In defiance to the woeful, bleeding song of murmured hums, your arms hold tighter to Bucky, his chin dips low as his blue eyes look you over, gorgeous eyes of the ocean, captured within the handsome sculpture of his visage. A forbidden make of marble, carven with perfection in mind. 

  ‘Mm hm, mm hm, mm~hm—’

  “Something the matter, Siren?” thrums the husky drawl of your captain. You turn your eyes - your entire form of attention - to him, devoting it to him alone, and not to the tune that wanes with grieving cries that drown in the mists of that plane. You shake your head with refined elegance and bring a smile to grace him with. 

  “Nothing, my Captain,” you purr sweetly. Voice soft enough to easily die in the crashing of heavy waves, but so throbbing to the heart that the lilted beat of your voice could never be lost to him. Bucky grins at your words, respite is found in the security of your vow. Not only does your answer satisfy him immensely, but it draws Wanda’s intense focus away from you. 

  The quartermaster, Steve Rogers, is met in an engulfing embrace by a striking brunette with bouncy curls, lips bright and red and grinning, brown eyes sparkling in the Nassau’s brimming sun. Truth be told, she was far too pretty to be a mere human, her beauty akin to a glistening ruby, and maybe it saddens you the littlest bit that she foresees you with eyes of weariness rather than friendliness. 

  Perhaps if she were a siren herself, you’d both have settled together rather fondly as friends - as bonded sisters. But alas, with her own treasure now ashore for now, she takes to him and welcomes him with moaning cords and absorbing kisses, Bucky chuckles slyly with a wink to his exhausted friend. 

  Weather-beaten tables score the large deck of the tavern, most of them being vacant outside, but given the beginnings of your skin drying out, Bucky takes care to situate you as close to a shaded spot. Something you are noticeably grateful for with your cheek nuzzling into the openly revealed space of his chest, the belted strips of leather strapped over his chest warm your skin as well as his skin. 

  Casting you in flittering shadows are the swaying palms, their long and prickly spine leaves howling in the sea’s constant winds driven ashore. While other members of the crew flee to their own affairs to relax, those of Bucky’s inner circle remain close, like cards held to his chest, and you being the winning ace of his games, are held the closest. 

  “Restock of the ship’s supplies will take all day, not to mention, the girl needs a few restorations herself,” says Bruce, spectacles resting low upon the bridge of his nose, eyes finalising his scrawlings as his voice confirms. His hand runs over the plump of his cheek with a drained sigh, middle finger pushing the brass loop of his glasses upwards. 

  “And that’ll spend us… half our funds.”

  “Wouldn’t need to waste so much coin on crackers ‘nd other shite, had someone not snuck ‘round like a rat.” Clint’s eyes squint in his accusation towards none other than the master of maps and navigation, Stark, who partakes in defending himself behind a weak shrug. 

  “There’s actual rats aboard. T’wasn’t me.”

Clint’s upper lip curls into a sneer, the ship’s cook primed to render Stark into salted meatloaf, a dullened knife he took to using in both battle and kitchen is held in his nimble fingers. 

  “Fuckin’ thievin’—”

  “Quit your squabbling,” rumbles your captain, “strike what isn’t needed for the voyage. Double on reinforcements and armoury.” His gruff voice sends tingles through your still connected cheek to his front, content in hearing its booming and steady beat. Bruce nods and returns his gaze downward to his leatherbound companion, quill resipping ink, he scribbles into his book once again, humming and murmuring to himself. 

  Bruce Banner, though quite brutal in the midst of battles, is a relatively quiet man who tends to keep to himself for most of his membership as a crewmate. Often he dwells below decks, counting stock, taking note of damages and overall engaging the skin of parchment rather than a woman. 

   Not to completely disregard the sometimes scarce glances between himself and the fiery, flintlock dancer herself, Natasha, eyes meeting between the wooden blanks separating their worlds from dark to light. If history is planted there, there is little to know in your knowledge - your hazy knowledge. From what you’ve gathered, Natasha has a tongue that leaves many of the males on board chest torn and heart bleeding, in dire need for her to bandage them with a moment of her time. Time that she rather spent either dancing in the heat of conflict, pulling the ship in order or occupy herself with you. 

  In comparison to the neighbouring woman often skulking silently by Bucky’s heel like a prowling animal on a leash, Natasha offered you what nobody else truly had; a connection. Someone you can maybe call friend. 

  By no means is she completely softened around you, she pushes you beyond your limits, but in her interactions with you, she layers herself with a bout of steadiness and calm to keep you level headed at best. She even takes the time to teach you letters and words of human speech. Too nervous to ask such a tedious task of your own captain, it had been Natasha called upon to teach you.

   Under her mentorship, she had governed you away from the native tongue of your sea dwelling folk, and what had at first been mistaken as the ship’s adored feline, Alpine coughing up a fish bone, had just been you taking the first step in learning to speak the language of humans. Only then and afterwards did your captain also take part in your teaching, albeit through a more erotic means of lessons behind the closed door of his cabin. 

  Steve returns with a sway to his step, Peggy held snug to his hip, the two bound by invisible, sticky sap that glues them together. “We’ve drinks comin’, Cap!” He laughs with a clap to Bucky’s broad shoulder, jostling you forward with a startled whine, eyes stinging and dry in alertness. 

  You miss catching it at first, the sharpened glare of ice in his eyes towards Steve for his abrupt disturbance of you, the blonde haired man, lass-drunken already, clicks his tongue with a grimace of offered sincerity, uttering a quiet apology under his heated breath.

  Bucky is only willing to let his scowl go after you assure the quartermaster that there is no harm done, excusing yourself that your fatigue had gotten the better of your guard. 

  Flared tempers now cooled, Steve leans back against the rickety stage of the deck’s plank railing. The ruffled skirts of his companion’s dress ride a little higher on her thigh as she rests it over his lap, drawstring bag visible… and fattened with coin. Paid very early in advance. Paid full with at least three weeks worth of salary strapped to her leg. 

  A chorus of cheers spill out into the open air when tankards of foam-headed refreshments are delivered. Tony’s chapped lips bend around a cigar stick, catching a flame to his match by the heel of his boot, he lights it and puffs a smog that brings your nose to wrinkle and lungs to jump. 

  “Right,” he says, the end of the word lost in its pronunciation, “Down ter business.” The master of maps of navigation procures from his coat rolled parchments and lays them flat to the wooden rot, he knocks a knuckle hard in indication of the pirate’s haven. 

  “We’re here, Lassy. Show us where it is.” Silence falls over those of the inner circle, each pair of eyes lace between the strewn papers and your expression, gauging the lines around your eyes that speak of your concentration. In wait for either your truthful answer or another lie. 

  The tips of your fingers run the inked lines that describe the landmarks of islands, points of interest, known ship routes and x marks, whilst your captain’s own fingers trace along the outer of your thigh teasingly beneath the cover of your robe and the table. His touch is distracting you, but could you be to blame for their failure in search of the ancient treasure? After all, your memory wasn’t of best quality these days. 

  Tony rolls his fingers in a drumming pattern, each minute it grows louder and pounds in your eardrums, the wafting curtain of thick, cigar smoke clouds your senses. 

  Your captain, scowling at this, shoots his metal arm forward and plucks the cigar from Tony’s mouth and pushes the burning ash and tobacco into the veiny hide of his bare hand. Tony bites a string of curses as his hand retracts. 

  “Next time, it’s shoved down your fuckin’ throat, got it?” 

  “Aye, Cap…,” mutters Tony. He shoots you a seething glare but nevertheless, relinquishes his attempts to intimidate you into answering. 

  “You forget, sirens speak a certain way.” Comes the low purr of his lilt, breath hot against the shell of your ear, the encouragement of his hand snakes your thigh over into his lap, leaving your core, though hidden to others, exposed to his addictive touch. Your breath becomes latched in your lungs, struggling to be free and your toes curl as his flesh hand slips between your parted legs. “You just need to know how…” 

  You barely hide the hiccup in your erupting breath. His thumb, rough and firm, toys with the delicate bud that spurs the welling of arousal to moisten your folds. Behind the sealed line of his lips, he breezes a rich chuckle that courts you with promised, devoting attention to your clit, circling it slowly as the long, thick body of his middle finger runs further down your folds. The chill of gold grinds into your skin gently, the pearl hums lowly in the deep reverie of your mind once more, grazing your skin with a harmonic resurgence against the combating of Bucky’s explorative touch. 

  If the air had been thick with the sun’s heat before, then it was downright unbreathable now, your skin aches and itches to be submerged in the tranquil waters. You all but claw a single rocky formation on the far edge of the map. All eyes zero in on the point, taking in the towering form of inked rocks. 

  “You’ve to be jokin’,” Clint hisses quietly. Sam Wilson is the next to speak with a sigh, “That’s a death wish, Captain.”

  “Siren, you’re sure?” Your head bows slowly to Bucky’s question and his thumb ceases its movement. Your finger situated over the landmark trembles, your throat is dry, saliva collects in thick rivulets and makes it difficult to swallow your despair. 

  Hushed whispers fall over the crew as Bucky’s smouldering eyes darken in thought, contemplating the high stakes. For your finger lands not just on the precise location of the temple harbouring the world’s greatest treasure horde any pirate or king alike could dream of. 

  It spans over into dangerous, uncharted territory. Territory that resides as a mass graveyard for ships and souls. The Misted Song Isles. 

  A bedded corner of the world untouched by sunlight, forever shrouded in a mist that never falters in its opacity, leaving many blinded to the ambushing predators that await them. 

  These cousins are the cause of your repulsion. They are not sirens. They do not possess the ability to sing beautifully anymore. That which haunts the mists are not curated melodies to turn a heart soft and a man stirred in longing, no, but devilish shrieks and wallowing howls that scream in revel of their kill.

  “Captain, think about this for a sec—” The quartermaster, as is everyone else, silenced within an instant. You yelp and pull your hand close to your chest as the sharpened point of a blade punctures right where your finger had been. Your heart races against your ribcage. 

  “We set sail at dawn.” 

  His command goes unchallenged and hangs in the eeriness of uncertainty. His lips formulate into that smirk, daring of the course ahead, ready to face whatever thrilling adventure awaits him and his hardened crew. 

  “Prepare yourselves. We’ll soon amass a fortune like no other. Riches beyond belief,” Bucky preaches with a deepened, growling cord, thumb reviving the pleasing buzz between your thighs. Your head presses back into his shoulder, arching your core slightly into his hand. “I’ve never known those of my crew to shrink away from glory and plunder. So what of it, mates? Are you lot ready to take what’s ours?”

  “Aye!” erupts a booming throng of cheers and hollering, tankards fly skyward with trickling, foamy ales, and fists pound the tables enthusiastically. From you, Bucky draws a softened, pleasured whine only captured by his ears, a musical note he licks his teeth in savouring delight. 

  “What a rousing speech, Captain Barnes. Touches my own heart.” The inner circle becomes disrupted, parting into a narrow corridor to give their captain sight of the outsider. Bucky’s thumb comes to pause again, much to the displeasure of your quiet grumbling, your eyes seek out the intruder and gape with widened eyes. 

    “Rumlow,” growls Bucky. His hand bares upon your thigh a tightening squeeze. 

  Brock Rumlow, captain of The Lady Strike, stands present, brown coat beaten and done in by the rough life at sea, tricorn equal in match to the rest of his dishevelled attire. Dark, matted and oily hair is swept behind his ears, stubble very much unkempt and in need of a shave. His brown eyes take in the near bareness of your form, your hand pulls the robe’s fabric over your already covered breasts, and Bucky curls you further inward, protecting you from the fowl leering of Rumlow’s dark eyes. His jaw is set hard as a deep, possessive growl emits from his large chest, the storm of his jealousy on the rise. 

  With a cock of his head, Tony shoves the plans back into the confines of his coat with a huff, missing the tangy flavour of his cigar.

  By now, those of Rumlow’s crew move in behind him, a battle of glares and curled snarls, only one amongst the opposing crew brings a grin to fall over your face, eyes brightened in relief. Long, raven black hair sweeping down the curve of her back, strips of plaits are decorated with beads and small shells, A tall and lean build of a woman a few years older of your age, eyes the shape of almonds and disguised as kindly, sparkling hazels of greens and browns. 

  Her thin lips form a smile to match her tender features. You barely have another chance to second guess your next move, taking care to keep the intricately patterned robe around to protect your modesty, you push yourself away from your captain and fly into her open arms, her embrace a welcomed one after all these weeks. 

  “Mina!” 

  She greets your name with a softened breath, the calming lull of a siren’s power. The prodding of shells poke into your chest, but you pay little heed to them, too much absorbed into a fellow siren’s hold. To be held and nurtured by one so connected to the sea as you, and who is also held prisoner above its beckoning tides. 

  “My dear, your skin!” she gasps. Her lithe fingers skim the lengths of your exposed shoulders, shoving under the flowy sleeves to do the same along your arms. “How long has it been since—”

  “She does not speak that way anymore.” 

  The voice of your captain is sharp, cutting right through to the bone, it chills you. You know you did wrong by your actions, caught in the flurry of your excitement to meet Mina. He hadn’t expressed his permission for you to leave his side.

  Her eyes forecast the irritated slits, the ridge of her mouth shifting. You shake your head quickly. “Don’t…”

  She listens to your plea and directs her gaze aside, retrieving back a more composed appearance. “Apologies, Captain Barnes. I forget her tongue falters and is now consumed by human speech. Please, forgive me.”

  His eyes stare point blank akin to the barrel of his flintlock, finger locked ahold of the trigger and primed to fire a metal ball right between her eyes. He takes into account that her voice is dry in its sincere case that begs forgiveness. A case he finds unmoving. 

  And so it falls to you. Her arms fall from around you reluctantly, you press on towards Bucky, hands caressing the carved shape of his jawline. “Please, Captain… forgiveness?”

  For a moment he is silent, his stare unwavering and unblinking, it churns your innards unassuredly. “Aye.” His response brings you to breathe again with a smile. You swallow thickly, steadying yourself with the words you have become accustomed to, at first rehearing it over in your thoughts before you speak.

  “May I go to the Pools? My skin… is dry.” As if to further accentuate, the inflection of your voice matches your statement, having to clear your throat gently. 

  He nods. “Very well, Love. Hour’s half.” Ingratiating yourself in his good graces, you capture his lips in yours, his own chase after your brief kiss but the embarrassment that they give away just how parched your body is steers you away quickly. 

  You are blind to the narrowing of cold, steely eyes following Mina who walks at your side, arms encircling around you protectively, her own eyes meeting the ferocity of Bucky’s glare, her own hardened stare watered down to save you from being caught in the crossfire for her temper. She knows that you would suffer just as well as her if Bucky turned his decision around. 

  The conversing crews are drowned out noise in the back of your head, Mina guides you along the dirt path towards the haven’s centre. 

  The Pools, a central hub that extends low into the island’s heart, and a system of interconnected tunnels for sirens to rejuvenate their exerted bodies, confining them to an enclosure with no means to swim directly back into the ocean. By all means, it was a natural formation turned into a cage. 

  Peering over the rocky lips, the inviting waters below reflect minute glimpses of the sun, a portion of it concealed under the shrubbery and towering palms. The hue of bright blue blankets the surface before the long stretch of abyssal black that cascades down the rock walls.

  The waters, as expected, are vacant of any other sirens, and those scarce few could only be seen in flashes of shining scales and shadows moving beneath, dipping into the mouths of the tunnels. Hidden from sight.

  You shed the covering of your robe and set it aside, its luxurious fabric smelling of yours and Bucky’s intermingling scents, the decorative stitchwork and colours flaunt it as one of a kind, a nabbed piece from a Japanese merchant schooner Bucky and his crew pillaged, and which your captain presented to you as a gift. The first of many he would later present. Intriguing artefacts.

  Mina didn’t have need to discard herself of human-given clothing, plunging into the heavenly waters before you, her attire made with the natural ingredients of the sea, leather strips and woven cords stretch around her chest and back with rings of shells to fasten over it, keeping her breasts pushed together. The wispy lengths of her skirt flows with sheeted seaweed, circling around her slim waist as a ghostly curtain. You follow not long after with an eager dive, your nude skin is soothed by the cool waters. Your legs morph together into the singular, powerful tendril of your trail, the webbed fins attached to your lower back flutter like the wings of a dove finding freedom on the winds. 

  Your bodies take refuge below the surface, skin no longer assaulted by the lacerations of the sun’s light and blazing scorch. How sailors could idle by whilst under the cruelty of it, you will never understand. Your back arches into a spiralling twist, a high pitched chirp bouncing from your throat and coursing through your gills. 

  You bask in the excitement with Mina who twists and bends, circling you with a teasing swish of her tail, she gargles a sweet note that bubbles around her lips, her forehead presses to yours affectionately. 

  She intends to regard you with the native speech of your kind but stops, brows falling into a firm, saddened line over her eyes. In shame, your head bows. 

  Those of your crew may have stripped you of your right to recollect the siren dialect, but if she can count on anything, it is the motion of her hands and arms. The common communication of one’s body. 

  In a sequence of expertise, her arms rotate and her fingers stretch and curl. 

  What do you remember?

  Your eyes analyse her movement, careful to decipher her code. Not as fluent, given the occasional puzzled twist of her head, followed by a nod of understanding and correcting signal, she encourages through your hesitation, wanting for your answer. 

  I… remember a necklace. Bound to my Captain’s wrist.

  And what did this necklace look like?

  Again, it takes you a moment to find the rhythm of your response, her eyes narrow in their deep seated concentration, almond curved eyes that widen upon realisation.

  You tell her of the golden chain, sleek and elegantly thin yet strengthened, the many, tiny crystallised pearls that line the gilded netting over one larger pearl, with a finer shaped one looped beneath it that dangles.

  Given her momentary pause, you nervously motion. 

  What is it? 

  She raises her hand over her head, webbed fingers fused together, she rotates her wrist in circles.

  Royalty. Pearls represent royalty. 

  The sudden confusion presently blinking in your eyes gives Mina reason to continue. She moves quickly, it’s hard to exactly understand, you motion for her to pace herself, that you’re struggling. With an apologetic chirp, she starts over. 

  You must get it back. That necklace is more significant to you than you realise. Undoubtedly, a gift from your late mother—

I don’t understand! What… of my mother?

  Mina truly sees the sickening infection of your hazy memory, all too aware that it’s the doing of that scarlet witch, tainted by the dark magics that spawn from the mangroves, the teachers there no strangers to utilising sirens as part of their rituals. And all by the order of your captain. A crew lacing you with deceit. 

  Her waterline is touched by tears that form into uplifting bubbles. She organises her words slowly. Each one brings a sharp pang to your chest and your stomach to drop further and further down into the abyss below. 

  Your mother - the Queen - is dead. 

  Your heart is scored by the penetrating daggers of Poseidon's trident, the creeping of unnatural coldness sweeps the back of your neck and down over your shoulders, you huddle into yourself. You shake your head and it ensues into a maddening display of denial, your body trembles, the water grows increasingly troubled, once a calm settlement over the surface now laps at the surrounding edges of the enclosure. 

  This cannot be right, this cannot be the truth. No, you don’t wish to believe it. A weight is crushing around your chest, you want to resurface. For the first time, you crave to be out of the water. All you seek now is the scent of your captain washing over you, drowning you passionately in his possessive devotion, to be treasured by him and him alone, bathed in his dominating presence. His shadow. 

  At this point, you’d happily let him fuck the knowledge out of you. 

  In your abrupt desperation you take to moving swiftly, your head breaches through the barrier with a sputtering fit of coughs and gulps, but Mina follows you. Her webbed hand catches your wrist, her voice plucks through the ripples like the baritone string of a guitar. She calls for you to wait. Gently, she coaxes you to delve below once more, her eyes imploring you to remain, to not go running off to the very same man who wants for you and holds you captive. 

  The milky glaze of your eyes brim with tears, tiny bubbles run to the corners before they float upwards. 

  She rests her head to yours, silky thumbs caring over the form of your cheeks, running smoothly under the bend of your tearful eyes. When she believes you have calmed, she asks another question. 

  What else about this necklace can you tell me?

  I hear… voices. A-a melody. I don’t– don’t understand the words. It plays faintly.

  If the crew who harbours you stays for the festivities tonight, get the necklace and bring it to me. I may be able to appraise it.

  A lump catches in your throat, eyes bearing your terror, the harrowing thought of being caught again. You aren’t sure if the potential of another scarlet mist is worth the risk. 

  Steal it? I-I can’t! He’d know if I stole—

  You cannot steal what’s already yours, young one. Besides, you know just the way to get it from him. I saw the softened regard in his gaze for you. 

  What she suggests is laughable, and your disagreement shows, your head shaking and throat bobbing in motion akin to a scoff. But still, her insinuation brings warmth to bloom in your cheeks. Her brows furrow at this display, tail idly swaying, the length of her hair creating a dark, winding halo behind her. She dissects the gestures of your words. 

  His gaze never softens to me…

  In spite of this, she rolls her eyes, but they are hopeful in their stare towards you. You were done with the search… before. Now, you want answers. 

  “Siren!” A familiar voice booms, tone muffled by the watery barrier. Answering his summons, you return to the world above, sighing a deep breath of air, the few faces you recognise are mere blurs, unfocused in your vision. Your eyes meet the wintery cold of his eyes, not softened, and clouded in their ever present desire to have you under him - pinned skin to skin to him - and his beautiful lips shaped into a smirk. His stance high above you dominates you in his darker shadow that casts over the water. 

  “Hope you’re in a festive mood, my little Siren.”

#bucky barnes x reader #female reader #bucky barnes #bucky x reader #bucky fanfic #james bucky buchanan barnes #bucky barnes smut #bucky barnes x female reader #bucky barnes angst #bucky smut #bucky barnes x fem!reader #bucky x reader smut #pirate au #siren reader #pirate bucky #bucky barnes x reader smut

[lily-s-world]

If I had a nickel for every time OFMD created chaos in Tumblr just by being an option in a poll, I'd have two nickels. Which isn't a lot, but it's funny that it happened twice.

#First black sails #And now Steve and bucky #The power these gay pirates have #I am a fan of all three so I just sit and enjoy the chaos #Ofmd #our flag meets death #ofmd s2 #stede bonnet #edward teach #Blackbeard #blackbonnet #Black sails #james flint #Marvel #steve rogers #bucky barnes #stucky

[gaysindistress]

Running from the Daylight sneak peak

pairings: pirate!James “The Scourge of the Sea” Barnes x royal governor's daughter!reader 

Summary: Based on this request.

Taglist: @talesofreading

disclaimer: credits to original creator/poster of image/gif, found on google/Pinterest/tumblr. Credits to @boltlightning for the gif on the bottom left & @owenhcrper for the gif on the bottom right.

James raises his hand to caress my face again and sucks in a sharp breath, “do not lie; can you feel me?”

Nervous laughter erupts from my throat as I nod yes. He slides his hand to cup the back of my neck and asks again. I nod again, my heart is pounding and I fear that he can feel it as his palm rests on my neck. He pushes off the hammock, standing before me as his other hand finds my waist. The question comes a third time and my answer stays the same albeit delayed as he pulls me so that we are chest to chest. 

Dipping his head down, our noses brush against each other and his warm breath washes over my face. My eyes flutter closed at the feeling and I can feel his lips move against mine as he speaks. The words are muffled but I nod anyways, assuming that he’s asking the same damn question.  

#bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes fic #marvel imagine #bucky barnes fanfic #pirates #pirate au #pirate Bucky x reader #running from the daylight Bucky

[metalbuckaroo]

🎃 NOTE// All one shots will have their own warnings, to be added to the tag list just reply to the post

🎃 // I DO NOT own any of the photos or gifs used in moodboards, all credit goes to the rightful creators

18+ ONLY MINORS DNI

-> Oct. 1st: Mutual Masturbation - SugarDaddy!Bucky

-> Oct. 2nd: Finger Fucking - Roommate!Bucky

-> Oct. 3rd: Somno - Firefighter!Bucky

-> Oct. 4th: Mirror Sex - College!Bucky

-> Oct. 5th: Black Mail - WinterSoldier!Bucky

-> Oct. 6th: Knife Play - Mafia!Bucky x Rival!Mafia!Reader

-> Oct. 7th: Thigh Riding - BestFriend!Bucky

-> Oct. 8th: Orgasm Denial - Biker!Bucky

-> Oct. 9th: Ball Worship - SugarDaddy!Bucky

-> Oct. 10th: Temp Play - DBF!Bucky

-> Oct. 11: Breeding - Soft!Dark!Pirate!Bucky

->Oct. 12th: Spanking - Mafia!Bucky

-> Oct. 13th: Sex Tape - Stripper!Bucky

-> Oct. 14th: Corruption - DILF!Bucky

-> Oct. 15th: Hate Sex - Neighbor!Bucky

-> Oct. 16th: Cuckolding - DBF!Stucky

-> Oct. 17th: Cockwarming - Stripper!Bucky

-> Oct. 18th: Exhibitionism - Biker!Bucky

-> Oct. 19th: Car Sex - BestfriendsDad!Bucky

-> Oct. 20th: Massage - Stripper!Bucky

-> Oct. 21st: Authority Kink - Alpha!Bucky

-> Oct. 22nd: Spit Kink - Rockstar!Bucky

-> Oct. 23rd: Sex Swing - Mafia!Bucky

-> Oct. 24th: Chasing - WinterSoldier!Bucky

-> Oct. 25th: Daydream - Rockstar!Bucky

-> Oct. 26th: Marking - DBF!Bucky

-> Oct. 27th: Squirting - Rebound!Bucky

-> Oct. 28th: Choking - Firefighter!Bucky

-> Oct. 29th: Dry Humping - 40s!Bucky

-> Oct. 30th: Sex Pollen -Soft!Dark!TFATWS!Bucky

-> Oct. 31: Aftercare - Pornstar!Bucky

🎃 Tag List: @auriel187 @marvel-3407 @winters1917 @k-jones16-blog @wickedravyn @ah-blossom @tilltheendofthelinepal9950 @buckybraneslover111 @bonkybarnes106 @wakandabiitch2 @vllowe @kmuir1 @alyhull @stardust-galaxies @michellefoster12 @xleggo-my-elevenx @fionanovasleftnut @

#bucky barnes #bucky x reader #bucky fanfic #bucky fic #bucky imagine #bucky barnes smut #stripper!bucky #firefighter!bucky smut #firefighter!bucky #dbf!bucky #pirate!bucky smut #pirate!bucky #biker!bucky #kinktober