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samodivaa · 5 months ago

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thank you so much for the kind words, he is literally my world

Soul-debasing Interrogation

Winter Soldier x Agent!Reader

Both his mentality and body can withstand anything—to err is...human—you are the human in this situation.

Warnings - smut, rough sex, choking

Words - 2900

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His face is a reflection of the past, of what is left of his life before, but his humanity has long forgotten where it belongs. You are now looking at something resembling a semi-death state, you can’t even comprehend the present condition of his soul, the mental pain or unbearably oppressive suffering he has been put through—a living creature, somewhat both broken and whole at the same time.

His eyelids slowly open, dark orbs focusing on the floor as he lets out a loud groan. He has the violent urge to move, but behind his back, both hands are bound with rope designed to eat away at the skin when he moves, even slightly. His ankles are as well bound to the legs of the chair—he makes an internal scoff at his current state.

“Here we go” you are already standing in between of his wide spread legs, grabbing his chin in a painful hold, waiting to speak when his glossy eyes are fully focused on yours “Try not to let this room scare you.”

A slumbering rage is stirring, rippling just beneath the surface. You are on the borderline, caught between the tides of fear and fury—him looking at you without blinking dismembers you mentally, but at the same time convinces him of the necessity to fight your fear.

It’s been days and nothing works, he seems unbreakable.

“Talk”

his jaw between your fingertips, grip still painfully tight, fingers turning white.

You are so sweet with your business-like tone—just imagine ripping out the tongue, so you could never speak again.

You study his features for a moment longer before letting go of his chin to slap his face hard, frowning in a sign of dissatisfaction.

“I said talk!“

„Ты так красива, что я забыл что хотел сказать тебе“ (You are so beautiful that I forgot what I wanted to tell you)

He finally says after a dramatic pause, his voice carrying its mocking undertones.

„You sick son of a bitch!“

You slap him again, he doesn’t show any reaction.

„White clothes, белый как снег?” (white as snow)

You put your hands on his knees and bent down, to whisper in his ear.

„I will fucking kill you”

A thin line closes around his throat and goes through, slowly cutting into his skin while cutting off oxygen. It is more painful than lethal, but more erotic than painful. After this, his head flies back, manicured fingers whirling around his hair, the little hairs on the back of his neck prickling. A groan escapes his dry lips, one that he doesn’t realize he’d been holding.

You drop the thin plastic line and place one nail under his chin, moving slowly, fascinated, nova-flare blue eyes blazing into your own.

„Will you talk now?“

he just sighs, shifting uncomfortably.

„Fuck…“

you whisper, a hint of exasperation and affront in your tone. You almost laugh, guilt twines with another failed attempt of getting any information out of him—you looks down at his trousers, then your eyes widen

„You are enjoying this”

In a full-fledged case of desire, Soldat is able to form both mental and physical representation of the thing he wants now and you don’t plan on initiating action to diminish his state.

Winter snorts at your words and looks at you with a smirk. He is obsessed with the situation, fascinated by you, infatuated with you. He hungers for your taste, your smell, the feel of your skin touching his. He is burning with desire, but keeps quiet about it—that’s his punishment he brings on himself, but there is no way he is begging his enemy—even in this state.

“Yes, I am” he says, with a venomous sneer “My eyes are up here, darling” he breathes.

That uncomfortable feeling is spreading over you as your eyes lift up to his lips, watching them part, taking deep breaths, the longing for him grows especially strong. You stand as though hesitating, suddenly the blood rushes to your head and sends a glow to your cheeks.

You are unable to endure his persistent stare, but you raise your downcast eyes and you finally smirk triumphantly at him as you struggle to breathe, suddenly straddling his thighs, loosening all of the ropes.

Winter watches with growing interest as you lean down, tucking a strand of his dark hair behind his ear.

Soldat’s eyes are the interpreter of the animal lust beneath, there is an unhealthy sallowness in the color of his orbits, he doesn’t even blink—his body is tense, a steel trap just waiting to be sprung open, but you don’t know that.

Your greedy lips are on his skin, devouring everything you can—licking, sucking, and kissing, not holding back your throaty moans. You drag your lips up his throat, along his jaw, back toward his mouth.

Eyes meet again.

The smirk on his face has disappeared and leaves an intensity behind in his eyes, narrowing into a glare. He is a silent fury who no torment could tame—but the finest fury is the most controlled, there is a murderous look in his eyes.

“Why are you looking at me like that?”

you cry, face white and distorted, with a wan smile.

He laughs spitefully “It's either kiss you or kill you, that's how I see it”

His soul is overflowing but with mingled feelings, no single sensation stands out distinctly, but there is a need in his heart and his body. He grabs you by the hips and gets up with an unexpected growl. Sexual perversions mix with lust and adrenaline as his mind sees in scattered images of varying vulgarity, dropping you slowly on the cold floor.

The moment your feet touch the ground, you want to scream, but you are cut off with a rough kiss on your lips. He grinds his pelvis into you, so you can feel his hard length against your lower belly, and grips your ass through the flimsy pants.

“I will fuck you” he croons his plans into your ear, and then places a cold palm around your neck “But you need to beg me”

Dominance. Control.

Winter has lost control over everything, even the places in his head… it's paralyzing…of course he has an obsession about female obedience—his human fingers start teasing the crotch of your panties.

You gasp into his mouth, and the opening of your lips let his tongue slide through.

Your arms come up around his neck and he pulls you against him, hands flatten against your back…and you are up on the tips of your toes, kissing him as fiercely as he is kissing you.

He pulls away from you briefly to say gruffly “Come on, I want to hear it” his soul, overflowing with rapture, yearns for your pleas, skin, touch “I know you want me” he whispers with implicit faith in his words.

A whirl of the most fantastic notions takes possession of his brain when your eyes meet again—he clings to you more tightly, knotting his hands in your hair, wordlessy begging, hands sliding down to your waist.

He raises the metal hand to his mouth, sucking on his fingers before the slightly damp digits are sliding into your panties and teasing your aroused folds and you exhale sharply, turning into a whining mewl as he circles your clit with ease.

“Say it”

he chuckles ruthlessly as the other hand bruises the skin on your waist, while his thumb circles down under your clit, closer to your entrance, fluids start to leak out. Your eyes meet again and something dangerous sparks, you suddenly feel your legs growing weak under you.

“Please-” you whisper, trembling with need and delight.

Winter almost stops when he hears you, his own breathing hitches a bit. He is watching you with an icy expression, voice falls to a whisper, as though he’s talking to himself

“Keep begging” a dark edge creeps into his tone.

“Please, don’t stop”

You shamelessly lift your leg up, placing it across his lower back and he swipes his thumb over your now throbbing clit before using two fingers to spread your lips apart. You never felt such stretching. It is cold and uncomfortable, but he forces his fingers inside as far as he can. He nibbles at your earlobe, loving the sharp intake of your breath, your skin breaks out into a pale sweat as he eases into a slow rhythm, curling his fingers inside, fracking, until your body twitches and walls clench around his fingers.

“Need me more” He pistons in and out of you as you clench around his fingers “Beg me more”

Every synapse in your brain short out—the gut-wrenching terror you feel, with a balance of sweet pleasure slide into mindlessness—

“Please, I need more, I need you-” you are cut off with an involuntary moan of rapturous pleasure, you are so close.

Those who constantly hunger for control outside of self are undoubtedly starved for peace inside of self—it doesn’t fucking matter, does it?

You’re powerless, weightless…utterly at his mercy and that’s what makes you cum—his gaze as he is staring at you, time stops. Those eyes are piercing yours, this is what makes you cum, he looks at you like he owns you.

The orgasm has gutted your vocal chords, and all you manage is a small gasp, he rasps something in your ear as he mouths against the skin of your neck, but you are too lost to hear it.

You are pushed against the wall, he tilts his head back and lowers his lips to yours and they get bitten to the point of bleeding. Winter feels a metallic taste on his tongue as he pulls back to admire his work, licking his lips, smiling disgustingly.

The sharp taste of blood only whetting his appetite. Winter wraps long slender fingers, around your throat, squeezing slightly and the feeling is too cold for it to be a human hand. His mouth is so close to your ear it makes your hair stand on end as he presses his hips against you, licking along the shell of your ear.

It is arousing, but dangerous—very dangerous.

Your other hand trails down his abdomen to his belt, and a finger dips in before you retrieve it—teasing him, the other hand still rubbing small circles on the tip. He shifts closer so his hardness presses against your hand unwillingly to your plans.

His right hand digs fingers into the flesh of your waist, the grip turning bruising and hard as before—the metal one now resting on the wall close to your head—as a warning, a reminder of the power he holds.

„Don’t you dare stop“ he whispers, the bite of his threat lost somewhere in his need for you to touch.

You need moments to unbuckle his pants, and Winter continues to trail your skin with kisses and whines when a hand slides into his boxers, the other holding closely to take the large cock in your small hands, covering it as much as you can.

You look down at his slick cock and nearly gag at the idea of just having it in your mouth, you want to be on his knees for him.

Drops of pre-cum drop to the floor.

Winter clenches his metal fist, trying to resist the urge to moan loudly, closing his lips he inhales through his nose, face contorting with openly weeping pleasure. He groans in reply, unable to fight your gentle touch, trying to fuck himself against the grip of your hands, too small to cover his whole length, throbbing with delight of that thought, orgasm begins to creep up on him.

You can’t help, but hang your jaw in bewilderment at the sight before—he is falling apart from the need to come, all he can do is tighten the grip against your waist—to urge you to please him.

He lets a choked moan escape his lips as you start to move your hands up and down, languidly stroking at his cock—his metal fingers whirling naturally around your neck, squeezing, not enough to break it, whines and whimpers escaping him as if he has no control over them any longer.

You observe every reaction and sound with wide lips and sultry eyes—heavy breathing from both of you as the pleasure hadn’t stopped yet—mesmerized yet almost confused as you’d never seen a killer be so needy for an orgasm, but you don’t dare comment.

“Don’t slow down”

He breaths out, eyebrows furrowing, his eyes shut, only grunts fill the cold air.

He opens his eyes, glossy and unfocused, and his face is deeply flushed—he is faced with your eyes stained with tears as you struggle to breathe—you nearly lose consciousness, how fragile your body is and how strong his is.

He chuckles at the sight—lust twisting his features, the grip around your neck finally loosens, the rush of blood and oxygen to the brain results in an explosion of dopamine, followed by erratic breathing.

He uses the moment to prise his tongue into your open mouth, forcing himself into you. You try to push and trash, but he holds you firm against the wall, his tongue sweeping over your lips, against your teeth, claiming you—leaking your tears.

Tasting the life he can easily take away from you.

You wiggles slightly, when he rips off your pants off, those piercing blue eyes trying to get a glimpse of your nakedness as his cock is still out, his fist tightening around the base, stroking slowly as his eyes drift south—dragging his metal finger slowly through your slit, the other hand once again moves on the waist in the same place—it hurts, bruises already forming from his tight hold.

It is obvious that Winter is not human, his body, his dick is too big to be human. You shiver at the sight of his length, hard and needy. His eyes are completely blue, with no pupil or white, two seas full of desire—he will drown you in them.

Soldat lifts your leg to gain a better angle to your hole. Your lips are slick and swollen, but the opening is stretching tight around his cock, trying to enter you completely, you cry out, your back arching at the pain. You freeze, blood running cold as he slaps you hard across the face.

The dark-haired man stares back with ill-concealed suspicion.

He is big, wide and fills you deliciously—every time you assume that he's fully sheathed, he pushes in a bit more and makes you moan loudly.

You buckle your hips as best you can despite his rough movements, meeting him thrust for thrust, desperate to feel him buried inside of you.

He is rough with you, not taking his time, not easing you into it.

“Please, slow down, it is too much-”

“Shut up and take it”

he trembles at the way you say beg, because of him, his mind was a blank canvas accosted by nothing—now, it is all about you, about pleasure.

And you tremble like a downy rabbit caught in the clutches of a wolf—he seizes you as boldly as if you are his prey. He thrust with force, you don’t even have time to adjust, he is too eager.

You moan both from pleasure and pain—It's so tight, squeezing the life out of his cock and he loves the idea of hurting you, it is too erotic not to think about it. He fucks you with lazy, slow thrusts, just enjoying the sensations of sex.

“You are taking me so good” he pants against your throat

he enjoys the suction feeling onto his cock, pummeling your cunt ruthlessly, hitting over the tender spot and you groan, loudly. Your throat feels raw from all the moans.

You exist there, whimpering, taking a fortifying breath, feeling the approach of your own orgasm, compressed by him as he ravages you, marks you.

Hard, long, deep trust that forces moans out of both of you.

You immediately bite your lip, panting, stopping yourself from moaning more, but your spine bends back and your body stretches taut, insides clenching and spamming around his cock—the sound that escapes your lips is so unearthly that it drives him to the edge.

He slams into you as his cock explodes in an endless amount of cum, overflowing out of you, dripping on the floor. He groans as he continues to slam into you, even as you feel overly sensitive as your own orgasm reaches its peak.

He leans down, far enough that the dark ends of his hair brushes feather-light against your face, his metal hand is around your throat, squeezing tightly—you lose consciousness, thinking that he is killing you, but you just pass out.

Sex is another practiced art to him. Each move is calculated. His brain is programmed to perform, his body seducing his prey with ease, noting each response of his target.

Fear and seduction, repulsion and attraction—that's how corruption is spread, turning squalor and nastiness into thrill, seduces the target into his own web—and leaves with the corpse on his hands.

What a devilish creature, master of the art of Death and Seduction, all its nuance, all its depth and complexity—but he spared your life?

#love u babygirl

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samodivaa · 5 months ago

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“Pleasures all mine princess…besides, you look good in my clothes.”

𝗪𝗲’𝗹𝗹 𝗠𝗲𝗲𝘁 𝗔𝗴𝗮𝗶𝗻 | 𝗣𝗿𝗼𝗹𝗼𝗴𝘂𝗲

𝗣𝗮𝗶𝗿𝗶𝗻𝗴: Bucky Barnes x Baker Reader (F) 𝗪𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴𝘀: War, Feelings, Mentions of PTSD, Mentions of Death — Any more let me know 𝗪𝗼𝗿𝗱 𝗖𝗼𝘂𝗻𝘁: 2.1K 𝗔𝘂𝘁𝗵𝗼𝗿 𝗡𝗼𝘁𝗲: So, another potential series hehe. I felt like my long term boy deserved his own lil thing and I’ve been thinking of an idea like this. I’m not sure when I’ll update this series, hopefully as much as I can but updates will be here and there. 𝗧𝗮𝗴𝘀: @boybandbaby, @chimchoom, @moon-light1928, @noellez-best-life23, @samodivaa, @kulteule, @zunigabarnes — Let me know if you would liked to be tagged!!!

The diner is filled to the gunnels when Bucky arrives, papers in one hand, his hat sat askew on his head. She never noticed him at first, too busy jotting down the order of an elderly couple in the farthest booth.

Poppy was gorgeous, eyelashes batting against soft blushed cheeks, teeth peeking out beneath painted pink lips. She laughs at the charming older gentlemen’s words, some joke about the beans giving him wind last time. His wife bats him with her handkerchief, tossing a glare his way with some choice words. She doesn’t mind though. With a final rundown on their order, she gives them a time estimate and turns, stopping dead in her tracks at the sight of him.

“B-Bucky,” she stutters, kitten heels clicking slowly as she inches closer to him. His attire has her almost fearful, like cornered prey staring at bared canines. She’s almost wary of passing him to get to the counter, her eyes darting over the glass door searching for a way out. A way out of what? Bucky suspected it was the conversation they were about to have.

“You like it, doll?” He smiles, his lips wobbling unnaturally. She wasn’t stupid and Bucky wore his heart on his sleeve, he was scared yet put on a brave face.

“You…you look nice.” She responds, brushing past him. Even the fabric against her bare arms is foreign; it’s scratchy and stiff, nothing like the man she knew.

“You don’t like it.”

She hums, stacking empty glasses onto a circular tray. Bucky steps over, helping her like he usually would.

“It’s not that I don't like it…” she looks him up and down again. He does look rather handsome but that green colour is ingrained in her mind. She watches men Bucky’s age and younger come and go wearing the same uniform. Not many of them were returning on those massive ships parked up by the dock. At the thought of Bucky being one of the unlucky ones, tears pool at her waterline. She turns before he has the chance to see her so upset.

“Poppy,” he coos, a large hand falling onto the small of her back. “You and I both know what this means, I don't want to spend the last night in have with you wallowing over things that won't happen.”

Poppy’s head shoots up, eyes fogged in disbelief “last night?”

He nods solemnly, “I ship for England tomorrow.” He says softly, capturing her hand in his.

“Please come with me tonight, I want to spend my evening with you.”

She’d overheard Bucky speaking with Steve about a science fair he was excited to attend. It wasn’t exactly her cup of tea but if it were what Bucky wanted she would do it. She would do anything for him.

After her shift Poppy spent a small amount of time freshening up, mind still unrested since Bucky’s words at the diner. Just a few hours ago, at the start of her shift, tomorrow felt like it was taking its time. Now she felt the hours ticking by almost like minutes. Soon the sun would set and rise again on a new day, one where she would say goodbye to her one and only. Perhaps for the last time.

Bucky picked her up from her front door, arm bent at the elbow so she could loop her own around it. Steve followed not far behind, an oversized tan coat protecting his slender frame from the chill of the evening air. Speaking of which, it was something she had neglected to remember when she opted for the short-sleeved dress. Bucky drops her arm for a second, fiddling with the gleaming belt and buttons before shrugging it off his shoulders.

His hands come around but she stops them before they drape the coat over his shoulders. The thought of the fabric around her is nauseating, she didn't want anything to do with the omen of death, yet Bucky’s fond smile and twinkling ocean eyes have her feeling guilty for ever rejecting such an offer.

“Thank you.” She says sincerely, nuzzling her nose into the coat.

“Pleasures all mine princess…besides, you look good in my clothes.”

The way Bucky’s eyes rove down her body sends shivers down her spine and a hot flush to her cheeks. He kisses her gently, thumb soothing over her cheek, when he parts he chuckles.

“Oops”

“What?” She sputters, mind still fuzzy from the kiss. He had a tendency to do that to her.

“I smudged your makeup,” his thumb and forefinger hook her chin, tilting her head into the dim street light. The apology thick on his tongue is dispelled by a huffing Steve, piercing blue eyes honing in on Bucky from over Poppy’s shoulder.

Right. Science fair first. Unfortunately.

The salted waves batter against the battleship grey ship, lathering its port side in white. Despite the rising sun glimmering atop the rolls of blue there is a chill to the air, one that bites at the creamy skin of Bucky’s nose tinting it a rouge shade.

“Sergeant Mayflower.” A voice calls out from the longboat, like a fog horn over the rumble of men murmuring their prayers and promises before setting foot onto the boat with seemingly no return. Bucky’s heart lurches every time the stout Captain barks out a name, his voice billowing out in a misty form.

He isn’t ready to go, no one is, as soon as their names are called they know where they’re off to, they know what they must do — it doesn’t matter what the papers say when every time a ship comes to collect it also drops off. Mountains of bodies wrapped only in sheets to protect the eyes of their innocent families, for the ones still alive? Death may have been an easier fate.

The men he’s exchanged a few words with today each hold that same dull look in their eyes, fear that’d been hidden deep below the surface to appear strong. Another name called, the crowd of men let out a small sigh but nothing could cover a woman’s wail from behind them.

“My boy!!” The greying lady sinks to the floor, clutching her equally as shaken husband. The young recruit, barely eighteen turns, huge helmet swivelling atop his head. He’s too small for war, he reminds Bucky of Steve. After much fuss from his mother, the boy's fate is sealed as he steps onto that ship, becoming lost in the sea of green and brown.

He feels sick, a lump of fear and sadness claws at his trachea as he thinks of who also stands not even a foot away; He clings to a small hand, squeezing it tightly. Poppy squeezes back.

“Sergeant Barnes.”

His world closes in on itself, his heart stopping its rapid pace in an instant.

“Bucky.” Poppy’s voice brings him back again. Her hands rest on either side of his cold cheeks, thumbs brushing at tears he didn’t know he’d spilt. He topples into her arms, pulling her up off her feet till he could feel the thump of her heart over his jacket. His name sounds over the crowd again but he is lost in the glossy sea of her eyes.

“I will come back.” He asserts, a warm promise against her full lips.

“I know.” She whispers, voice hoarse.

“I will.” He seals his words with his lip on hers, giving her love that his words could not portray. He would come back to her, he had to. He had no one else but her.

“Save a drink for me,” he forces a smile onto his face, cupping her cheek.

“Whiskey?” She laughs brokenly, using her free hand to swipe away her tears.

“Always.”

With a final squeeze, he lets go, sifting through the crowd of wide-eyed men. His foot sets onto the plank resting on the docks when he looks back — she’s there, putting on a brave face for him. He waves mouthing his love for her. She does the same before turning on her heel and leaving him.

The streets of New York blared with life, not unlike 70 years ago but the sounds had changed. Sirens wailed a few blocks away, plane engines whirred above the looming skyscrapers. All of it both comforted and overwhelmed Bucky.

He brushes past a mob of tourists taking photos of the iconic yellow taxis, his eyes flicker back down to his phone. The address Tony had sent him wasn’t too far now, a sharp left and a jog across the busy road, eyes peeled for cops trying to stop his jaywalking, and he was at a cute building.

The outside stood out, sage walls and frames bold against the bland shops surrounding it. A worn welcome mat rested beneath his feet, a remanence of little flowers on a hill in the corners. The door squeaked lightly on its hinges as he entered, and above him, a bell tinged alerting the minimal patrons of a new customer - not that they cared, their noses in books.

They were all elderly, or rather, his age. A man with thin grey hair and a hunched form tucked himself away into the farthest booth from the windows, a coffee steaming on the table and his weathered copy of ‘Jane Eyre’ clutched between bending fingers. Peculiar read for a man of his age but who was Bucky to judge when he’d also found himself enamoured by the text.

Two elderly ladies sit nearby too, crumbs of a sweet dessert on their plate and gossiping amongst themselves. He makes his way up to the counter, gazing freely at the freshly baked muffins and cookies. His mouth waters at the scent coming from the kitchen, mind fluttering back to the times he’d find himself baking goods with Poppy; flour in his hair and melted chocolate over his cheeks and around his lips.

Why was he thinking of her now? It had been a long time since Poppy had entered his mind. Before he has the time to wallow in the old fuzzy memories a voice calls out.

“Stark!” You bum the back door open, pale green boxes piled so high it was impossible to see making you rely on muscle memory only. The boxes hit the counter with a dull thud and you let out s breath of relief, the last thing you wanted to do was remake those cinnamon buns.

“You must be here for these.” You smile politely at the man in front of you but he stands rigid. You aren’t the best at reading people but you can tell he’s alarmed; brows arched high and eyes wide, his chest heaves with pants as though he’s run a marathon but he isn’t sweating. In fact, his skin is pale, ghost-like against the black leather coat he wears.

Whatever comes to Bucky’s mind as a response doesn’t make it out of his mouth. He’s shocked, feet bolted to the floor.

Poppy. His mind screams. The girl in front of him was Poppy. His eyes roamed over your face, from the twinkle in your eyes to the slope of your nose, the cut of your lips - you looked just like her, even down to the way you smiled. His fingers itched by his sides, nerve endings begging to reach out and caress your cheek like he’d wanted ever since becoming Bucky again.

For a long time after his therapy at Wakanda, everything in his body longed for the love of his life. He knew it was impossible, she was surely dead by now. Yet she—you stood there, staring at him with an awkward tug to your lips. Shit! He’d been staring too long.

“H-hello?” You begin to question yourself under his piercing eyes. Was he here for the order? Was he even here? Come to think of it were you even here? You did have that close shave with the car earlier on…

The man before you clears his throat, shock schooled from his face impressively - he now looks bored rather than terrified. “This is all his?”

“Yep,” you shake your head, smiling so wide your cheeks burn.

“Ok, good…well thank you.” He offers you an awkward smile of his own, his arms reaching out to pick up the boxes with ease. He turns without a word, using his fingers to open the door just enough to kick it open with his foot.

You watch him through the windows as he darts off in a blur of black. When your mind finally clears you still, cursing under your breath. He never paid.

#LMAO real tho

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samodivaa · 5 months ago

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Костомукша (кадр из сериала Замерзшие)

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samodivaa · 5 months ago

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worship in decay - chapter 1

CHAPTER 1 – beast of burden

Warnings: female!reader, dubious consent, lots of alcohol consumption, mentions of casual sex, addiction mentions, the avoidance of genuine feelings, foul language, self-destructive behaviors, self-hatred?, self-esteem issues, parent issues, childhood trauma, bucky is no saint, but he tries to be a good boy, mentions of mental health, random dancing, bucky mourning his past? bucky is a whiskey man can't convince me otherwise. Dedicated to @samodivaa

You can’t stop looking at the neon sign behind the bartender. SINNERS WELCOME in red and white surrounded by bottles of alcohol. Your head is fuzzy, swirling and warm and full of liquor.

What time is it?

Somewhere in the recesses of your mind, you realize this is not where you started your evening out, and you genuinely can’t recall what brought you to this bar, but you don’t mind. The drinks are cheap, the music is good, and that sign was all you needed.

You look at the ice in your glass, you lift it and you contemplate for a moment. It’s boring, tonight is boring and you sigh. This should’ve been fun, but no one wanted to come out with you and it was like everyone had a stick up their ass as it was.

Then you’re moving the glass to your mouth as you slam your drink back. You probably shouldn’t have done that. You can barely focus as it is.

Onlookers from the bar side eye you, judgement heavy in their glares but you don't notice. You barely see anything. Your dress was too low on the chest and too high in your thighs, it was skin tight and you leaned a little too hard against the bar ledge.

But you feel so airy, so light in your head as you move to get up.

You think you're going to be sick.

There’s a moment where you groan and your eyes fall to the crowd, it’s so dark in here you can’t figure out where the bathroom is. So you take a deep inhale and make the decision to just walk out of the bar.

Your stagger, the heels adorning your feet make it difficult to walk. You're a little sloppy and you try to look for your phone in your purse but you are unsuccessful.

“Fuck…” You groan. There is no rhyme or reason to your motions, just the intent on going.

You don't even know where you are right now.

You huff, looking around though there are no street signs or anything familiar to you. You squint, but it’s no use, nothing is familiar.

With a groan, you’re collapsing onto the sidewalk curb in defeat and you kick your heels off.

“Fuck me…” You whine pathetically.

“Is that an invitation?” A voice suddenly calls.

Your head lifts from where it was hanging in your hands and your unsteady gaze focuses on him.

It's like he's a gift from heaven, the convenience store white light shining behind him as he studies you with narrowed eyes and an arched eyebrow. You can almost hear the choir singing.

He's actually quite beautiful, standing there all big and imposing while he’s holding a plastic bag full of convenience store goodies.

You smile, stupidly for a moment before you lean back, your cleavage on full display for him to look down your shirt.

He doesn’t, his gaze is steady on yours.

“For you? Absolutely.” You say with a giggle before you nearly fall back from leaning too far.

He takes a step back preemptively.

It's quite obvious you're drunk. More than, he suspects, by the state of you.

“Where do you live?” He asks, looking around to see if anyone will come running and claim you.

To His dismay, no one does.

“I'm sure your bed is closer.” You reply. He snorts.

“Not for that, you need to sleep.” He says, because while he does think you're attractive, he thinks it would be despicable to take advantage of you right now.

He can smell the liquor rolling off you from where he's standing.

“Only if you’re in the bed next to me.” You try again but he just shakes his head. He sighs, finally approaching you and crouching down as he looks over you.

He wonders how you can even breathe in that dress. Your breasts push upward, the skirt barely goes to midthigh and it’s a spaghetti strap. It’s a nice colour, it compliments your colouring perfectly.

(He thinks, just for a moment, how much women’s fashion has changed since his time. The way you’re dressed, you’d be the neighbourhood prostitute, now you’re just another girl on the street.)

He licks his lips as he looks away for a moment.

“Where do you live, sweetheart?” He asks again, and you lean in toward him as you smile. You smell like tequila and caramel, an odd mix and he doesn’t know if he should like it or not. (He does) Your eyes sparkle as you look over his features. There is something almost innocent in the way you present to him, but he figures you’re far from that.

You glow, though he doesn’t understand why.

“You’re beautiful.” You say and he can’t help but laugh. Never let anyone say you were not an opportunist, especially when the universe seems to deliver you the best looking man you’ve ever seen.

He wants to be frustrated and annoyed with you, but he can’t bring himself to. You look so helpless, so hopeless. Something inside of him can’t bear to think of what might happen to you if he leaves right now.

“My name’s actually Bucky, but thank you.” He says and you hum.

“Bucky.” You say softly as you nuzzle into him. “You smell good.” You say, incoherent and mindless as he supports your weight. You hear him grumble.

He takes one last look around, hoping someone is looking for you. There isn’t, and there’s something to be said in the fact that you’re this intoxicated by yourself.

“Where’s your phone, sweetheart?” He tries again. You can’t help but snort and laugh, shrugging your shoulders. “Gone.” Is all you can manage to say, and in your sober mind you know damn well that this would actually be a Grade A worthy meltdown moment, but in the drunkenness, all you can focus on is him. Bucky’s brows shoot up at the cavalier attitude you have. For such a pathetic situation you’re pretty smiley about it. He should call you a cab, flag one down right now and throw you in and be done with you. Except, two things. Number one, you’re drunk. Number two, and the more sinister one; this is an evil, cruel world, and he doesn’t know that you would make it home safely, if at all depending on who the driver was.

You watch him, in all your haziness and half-lidded eyes as you can’t help but bite your lips in an attempt to hide your pleased smile from him. You can see him weigh out the scenarios. You can see the way his eyes slink down from your face, to your neck, to your torso and he scratches the back of his neck.

Easy. You think.

Shit. He Thinks.

His head hangs for a moment in contemplation. He knows good and well that –unless you’re some kind of mutant – you wouldn’t be able to do him any harm. And what kind of man would Bucky be to leave a damsel in distress drunk and stranded on the side of the road? That’s what he’ll tell himself in the morning, in a few hours when you go home, in five minutes when he takes you home.

You’re depraved, Buck… He thinks to himself. “Okay…” He huffs. His eyes swoop over your form, down to your legs where he notices you’re not wearing your heels. He arches a brow before he shakes his head. “You gonna put your shoes on?” He asks, like the way someone would ask a misbehaving toddler.

You shake your head. “No, evil shoes, they bit me.” You huff. Bucky scoffs. “You usually let random guys take you home?” Bucky asks as he puts down his bag for a moment so he can scoop you up into his arms. “Only when they’re as gorgeous as you.” You hum with a laugh.

He grabs his bag, stands to his full height and then he walks. Bucky begins to walk toward his apartment building while he carries you. Because you’re so off-kilter, you wrap your arms around his neck.

All he wanted was some candy bars, and now he’s carrying some drunk girl to bed home.

Somewhere in this situation there’s a reason, he just can’t figure it out yet. “You’re a pain, you know that?” He says as he walks. You giggle. “I’ll make it up to you.” You say with heavy implication in your voice. Bucky grumbles deep in his chest.

The walk is short, he only lives a block away and he has no issue juggling you, his bag and the keys.

The doorman gives him a look and Bucky just shakes his head.

“Don’t ask, George.” He grunts out, defeated and unimpressed by how this looks. “Hi George!” You say overly high-pitched and girlish as you relish the way the older man looks at you amused and Bucky’s cheeks flush. The older man nods his head and his gaze adverts. Bucky doesn’t even want to think about what he must be thinking.

Bucky sighs again and presses the elevator button. It takes a moment for it to come and all he can repeatedly ask himself is what the fuck is he doing?

Who the hell just takes some girl off the street and brings her home? Like a stray? Bucky Barnes apparently. He’s an idiot. There’s a brief panic where he wonders if you’re going to assume he’s kidnapped you when you’re sober.

His thoughts are interrupted by the ding of the elevator and he enters. The ride up is short, and the walk to his apartment is shorter. He unlocks the door and he’s so thankful there’s no one around at this hour.

He could already picture the headlines and social media.

Captain America’s best friend hauls a drunk girl off the street and into his apartment.

The moment the door opens, Bucky sets you down and you drop your purse and shoes with a loud thud. “Oh, wow.” You whistle low as you scamper into the apartment. It’s contemporary, all white walls and hardwood floors, tasteful and minimal in the best way. It hardly looks lived-in save for some of his items scattered around here and there. There isn’t a dirty dish in the sink, nothing on the fridge, the surfaces are pristine and there’s nothing hanging on the walls.

It’s lonely, you realize rather somberly. It’s cold and lonely. There’s no life in this apartment, no joy, no personality.

Bucky toes off his shoes behind you.

He wonders, briefly, what you must think, because he knows what it looks like.

He knows he looks like a psychopath.

Bucky clears his throat before he walks into the kitchen, putting the plastic bag down and moving to shove his goodies into a cupboard.

You look over your shoulder at him, he can see you through the small window between the kitchen and the living room. Your body is lined by the backdrop shadows, your hair glows from the low warm light from the kitchen. He can see every curve of you, he’s never been so captivated by a silhouette before. He feels his mouth go dry.

You’re like a gift all dolled and wrapped up just for him.

He wants to see what kind of underwear you’ve got on beneath that dress. He almost thinks you’re not wearing a bra. His hand twitches.

Instead of reaching to you, he decides to pour himself some bourbon instead. He takes his decanter and moves to pour it into a crystal glass.

From your spot in the living room, you watch him in the minimal light. His back is turned to you as he caps the decanter and throws the glass back. His back is tense, and you take a moment to appreciate the muscle definition and the width of him.

It catches you by surprise just how much you like the look of him.

Deep breathes girl, he’s just another guy…

In your attempt to distract yourself, you decide to shift your attention to the rest of the living room. Your eyes sparkle as you see a record player setup.

You do not hesitate to walk over and look at the covers. You blink, surprised by how pristine everything is. It was the only thing in this apartment that had a little bit of life to it, there were attached speakers on either side of the table along with a thick pile of vinyls lined up beneath it.

You go through them, you do not recognize a lot of the artists, and the covers look like something out of the 40’s or something. You hum, standing up to your full height again before you decide to press the button to turn on the record player to see what he was listening to.

The soft bluesy buzzing of saxophones, clarinets, trumpets and trombones begin to fill the room. Thankfully it isn’t loud, but you’re pleasantly surprised by the song itself.

He didn’t look like the kind of guy to listen to this kind of music.

It reminds you of music that grandfathers would listen to.

You begin to tap your nails against the wooden table the record player sits on and nod along to the music. It isn’t exactly your thing, but you can appreciate the artistry of the song.

And just as you twirl, you notice that he’s abandoned his post in the kitchen and is now standing in the middle of the living room, and you almost feel as though you’ve been caught – or he’s been caught. His brow is furrowed again, and his jaw is clenched as he watches you, before his eyes fall back to the record player behind you.

You smile with pointed lips at him, your eyes sparkle in the low light, like a mischievous little kid wanting to play.

A subtle tension begins to settle over the two of you, not heavy and uncomfortable, but something new, nervous, shy.

“I wanted to know what your hype song was.” You say jokingly as you walk toward him. You notice he’s carrying two glasses, one full of liquor, one is clear. You look up at him. Bucky snorts, rolling his eyes at your words. He could never get the grip on the lexicon of kids these days, but he does his best to learn.

“And?”

“I thought it would be something more…well not this..” You say as you take the clear glass, You drink it, brows furrowing as you realize it’s flavoured. “Water with liquid IV.” He tells you as he brings his glass to his lips.

God, take your pants off.

You know you shouldn’t be so moony over the bare minimum, the literal smallest of thought but, the bar is so low and he’s thinking of your well-being when the alcohol begins to wear off.

You take a step forward and reach to take his free hand, it’s gloved, and beneath it, you realize it feels quite firm.

“What are you doing?” Bucky immediately responds as he leans to place his glass down. His tone is suspicious, uneasy, and the look on his face is masked by the shadow. You giggle. “Dancing. With you.” You tell him as you pull him toward the centre of the living room.

He goes along with it, lets this drunk, mousy thing maneuver him anyway you want.

(In the back of his mind, he does find this a little odd, but he doesn't really mind.)

He knows he shouldn’t, but you’re cute, and it’s been a long time since he’s danced with anyone to this kind of music.

It’s not much of the same the way he remembers back in the 40’s, this is more like rocking back and forth with you in his arms as you both remain acutely aware of each other. You marvel at how big his hands are, he can’t get enough of the smell of your hair.

Despite the two of you being complete strangers there is something oddly endearing, comforting, nice about this. You can’t quite explain it. You’re lost in your thoughts, your mind swirling with his aftershave and the feel of his hands, the expanse of his chest as you lean into him.

It definitely is not the weirdest thing you have done with a guy.

Bucky’s eyes flutter open as he feels your breasts press against his front, smells the way you’re responding to his presence. You're not even trying to fight it.

He only has this one last thin frayed string of willpower left, he’s caving.

“I’m not having sex with you.” Bucky suddenly blurts out. He pushes you away from your hips, nearly causing you to stumble backward.

He has to say it, almost like it’s obligatory of him to make it known that he is in fact a gentleman and having sex with a person who is under the influence is very, very bad.

You tilt your head, and you let out a soft scoff, and you look at him with that siren-like gaze.

He swallows. “Why’s that?” You ask as you smile, smug and knowing. It makes Bucky shift, his shoulders roll back and he wonders what kind of switch you had to flip to go from a ditzy drunk to whatever this was. Bucky’s left fist tightens, the metal whirring low as he clears his throat. “You’re drunk.” He says, as if that’s a defence.

“That’s it?” You say, taking careful, intended steps back toward him. Bucky doesn’t move, his breath hitches as his eyes fall to where your hips sway as you walk.

That’s it? That’s it?!

You remind him of some kind of wild feline, stalking toward her prey. There’s an intense look in your eye, a wild grin on your pretty pouty little lips as you come to him. You give yourself so easily.

Bucky should tell you to stop, stick his hand up and put it on your chest so he can push you away, get up and call you a cab and send you on your way.

You’re a bad girl, he realizes. With bad intentions, no good girl dresses like that and acts the way you do.

And you make his blood run hot. He can hear the blood pump in his ears.

Bucky walks backwards as if that would do anything, and he’s completely entranced by you that he completely forgets the layout of his living room – and falls into his couch.

He lets out a grunt and your eyes sparkle with opportunity as he scrambles to sit up. You giggle, he blushes. You don’t waste a second.

Bucky’s breath hitches as you crawl up his body, your dress lifts so the skirt is resting on your hips. He can’t help but look down as you settle in his lap, your ass settles firmly on his thighs. He groans. Of course your panties match your dress.

You bring your hands to rest on his jaw as you force him to meet your gaze again, and automatically he rests his hands on the curve of your waist. Your breath mingles together, hot, heavy and flooding your brain. Your spaghetti strap falls down on your shoulder as you lean into him. Your bodies are flush together, you can feel his cock twitch in his jeans. His back presses into the couch.

Perfect. You have him just where you want him. Trapped beneath you, entranced by you, and you can smell the whiskey on his lips. Bucky doesn’t even bother to put up a fight, why would he? He’d be the dumbest guy in New York City to fumble his chance with you.

Even though in the back of his mind, he’s screaming to just put you to bed.

But Bucky never claimed to be a good man, either. “Tell me no.” You purr against his lips, your half-lidded gaze almost mocking him as you hover above his mouth. “Tell me no and I’ll go.”

It's a challenge, he knows it is. Your eyes glisten in the low light as you look down at him with so much arrogance he almost wants to hurdle you off to get that smug look on your face.

Bucky’s grip tightens against your hips as he rumbles, a deep growl within his chest.

“Fuck it.” He groans before he lifts his right hand to force your head against his gently as he finally closes the little space between you, capturing your lips as you grin.

#baby girl cooking fr fr

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samodivaa · 6 months ago

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SOMEONE WRITING AN ex-HYDRA asset ??????????? WHEN I TELL YOU I FUCKING SCREAMMMMEDDD BROOO AINT NO WAY "are my eyes deceiving me" ahh moment LMAOOOO

LOVE YOU BABYGIRLLLL OH MY GOSH

Warm Winter & Fiery Frost | Bucky Barnes

》 PAIRING: bucky barnes x ex-HYDRA assassin!female!reader

》 TROPE/GENRE: grumpy x grumpy, enemies to lovers-ish, slow burn-ish, angst, fluff-ish

》 SUMMARY: They say opposites attract. You and Bucky were so alike—He was called The Winter Soldier and you were called Frost, for fucks sake—that it's probably the reason why you hated each other. Or was it the denying of powerful feelings in fear of getting hurt? You know, like how the cliché goes. Because you know what they also say: There's a fine line between love and hate.

》 WARNINGS: canon typical violence (blood, guns, combat, etc.), canon divergence, meanness against each other (at the start & that one scene™), emotional constipation! (on both sides. they both need therapy lbr), poorly translated russian prolly, soulmate vibes (not really?), r has bucky at knifepoint quite often (& threatens to kill him), bucky's kink unlocked? (not explored lol), down bad!bucky, r has a backstory, mentions of: past traumas, grooming (no specific ages but it's implied that r was very young), manipulation, experimentation, child trafficking, torture, murder (u know hydra tings), a sweet, happy and open ending (+ if i missed anything pls let me know!)

》 TOTAL WORD COUNT: 29k+ (my longest fic yet)

A/N: i actually started this a year ago??? (according to my doc) which is crazy to me?? bc it feels like i only had this idea for months? where has the time gone. ANYWAYS. first behemoth bucky fic & first fic in a few months so pls be kind ksksks

++ also would like to say that r in this isn't the usual happy-go-lucky, sweet, emotionally capable, sunshine-y person compared to what i typically write but she has her reasons. cold & hardened but mushy on the inside. u know. like our fave supersoldier. they're honestly the same person just different fonts lmao. ANYWAYS,

++ additional note: tumblr has a limit of only 1000 paragraphs (or text block so to speak). the fic itself is 1300 paragraphs so it's waay over the limit. so i decided to cut it into two parts BUT i also posted it on AO3 if you want to read it as a whole already. hope you guys still read and enjoy it! <3

📍 BLOG NAVIGATION ✩ B. BARNES MASTERLIST ✩ MAIN MASTERLIST ✩

⊱ ─────.⋅♚ *｡･ﾟ.★. *｡･ﾟ✫*.

PART ONE | PART TWO

or READ ON AO3

✫*ﾟ･ﾟ｡.★.*｡･ﾟ♛ *.

↬ thank you for reading lovely! reblog & leave a comment if you enjoyed! feedback is always appreciated! ++ consider supporting me on ko-fi if you can!

✉ NO TAGLIST: go follow @t-lostinlibrary and turn on notifications to get updated on my works!

© t-lostinworlds, 2024 ✘ I do NOT give any permission to repost, translate, & use any of my works (writings, gifs, dividers, etc.) on any platform, with credit or otherwise. Please respect that. Thank you.

#oh my god oh my god #to be read

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samodivaa · 6 months ago

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WOO-boutta READ THISSSSSSS

Once he caught your attention he relaxed a little. “Hey pretty girl, you’re safe I promise.” Smiling instantly as you came running straight towards him and climbing on him. “I’ve got you pretty girl.” - fav part

Little Wolf

~ gif not mine credit to owner ~

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x wolf!fem!Reader

Summary: he finds a wolf injured on his run, the wolf doesn’t seem to be all that it appears.

Word count: 5,925

Warnings: angst. fluff. swearing. hunting animals (not detailed) gross hunters pissing on the animals. shooting. hit with an arrow. fire.

Masterlist

Death. Pain. Blood. The chair. Screams. So so, so much blood.

The punching bag was hanging on for dear life as his fists took his frustration out on it. The flashbacks driving him further into beating the bag that shakes with each punch. Ignoring the pain in his right hand and back he continues his assault.

Three hours. That’s how long he had been punching the bag filled with sand. When the pain in his hand got too much he steps back taking in a deep breath he watches the punching bag swing to a slow stop.

Normally after spending a few hours in the gym he would meet with Steve and go on a run together, sometimes Sam joining too but they were both on a mission together. They had their own pathway that they preferred to run but last time he went running on his own it came to an abrupt end when he was surrounded by police, all pointing their guns at him. Someone had seen the former Winter Solider running and thought he had done something so they rang for help. It took Steve, Tony and Fury to come down and tell the cops to stand down, told them he posed no threat.

Bucky stopped running on his own after that.

Normally he would just go back to his room, have a shower and try to relax but his mind was working overtime plagued by the memories of his time at Hydra so he decided to take that chance and go on that run on his own. He was just going to change his location of his run.

It’ll be okay. It’ll be okay. It’ll be okay. He told himself as he found a new area, it was the woods that were near the compound. It had a trail that never seemed to be used, so hopefully he wouldn’t bump into anyone.

His feet pounded the ground as he pushed his legs to move faster with each passing tree, the sweat was dripping off him and his hair was slowly falling out of the bun he put it in. On his seventh lap of the entire woods from end to end he finally slowed down as the stitches in his side were getting painful. A twig breaking from inside the woods had his feet stopping, his head snapping to where the sound seemed to have come from. Another snap of a twig had his eyes squinting to try and locate the person or animal causing the sound.

And while yes he was a super solider who was dubbed by the world as the deadliest assassin to ever exist who had a metal arm that could punch through walls easily he stood there in the middle of the pathway feeling scared. If it was Hydra agents he knew he didn’t stand a chance of fighting them all off, he had no weapons on him to fight them. If it was a person who was just taking a stroll through the woods and they thought he was doing something wrong he couldn’t let Fury or Tony defend him again. If it was a bear-

You’ve never seen bears around here Buck.

A small whimper coming from where the twigs were breaking had his feet moving faster than his brain could try and talk him out of it. If it was a person he could help them. If it was an animal he could help them. If it was an agent of Hydra then he was falling straight into their trap.

Taking careful steps he followed the sound of whimpering, stopping when his eyes landed on a large black wolf. Looking down where the wolf was licking he saw the metal contraption of a bear trap locked painfully on its back leg. Bucky looked around to see if there was another wolf or two, knowing they mainly traveled in a pack he moved slower and with more caution when he didn’t see any others.

The wolf snapped its head in Bucky’s direction baring its teeth releasing a deep growl that had the hairs on the back of Bucky’s neck stand to attention. “I-I’m not going to hurt you. I promise” he stuttered out feeling stupid when he heard his own words. It doesn’t understand you idio-

The large beast stared him in the eyes for a few minutes before continuing to lick at the wound, Bucky took it as a sign that he could move closer, as he does the wolf looks at him without stopping its movements. Bucky slowly reached out to the trap and began pulling it apart, the wolf pulled its leg out and scampered off through the trees without looking back.

Bucky smiled at saving the beautiful creature.

For weeks Bucky would run the trail in order to see if he could find the wolf again, for those weeks he kept coming up empty.

Until one day. As he was running he came to a halt at seeing the wolf again, sitting in the middle of the trail looking at him. It stood up moving closer, he noticed that it had a little limp from the injury. Just in front of him the wolf sat staring up at him, its fur was jet black and looked so soft that he really wanted to reach out and touch.

“Do you remember me?” A head tilt from the creature. “A-are you friendly?” It yapped “I’m taking that as a yes” he chuckled which caused the wolf’s tail to wag. Reaching out slowly he half expected the wolf to move away but it didn’t instead moved its large head closer to him and rubbed along his hand.

Bucky knelt down and began running his fingers through the thick jet black fur that was unbelievably soft. Steve wasn’t going to believe him when he told him that he had befriended a wolf. “Where’s your friends huh?” Another head tilt given as a response. “You’re so soft aren’t you boy?” A low growl from the wolf had him taking his hand away. “Oh, you’re a girl? Oka-“ his phone cuts him off, answering it as it was Steve he chuckles when the wolf’s head tilts from side to side as if she’s trying to understand where the voice is coming from. “I’ve got to go pretty girl, but I’ll see you tomorrow okay?” Bucky truly felt terrible about leaving her behind especially when he looked behind him to see her still sitting there.

Over the course of a week Bucky left for the woods to see the wolf he had befriended, and like he said Steve did not believe him when he told the blond. Bucky would run with her by his side, he would stroke her fur when she won the unofficial race they were having. His wolf friend no longer limped as her leg was healing perfectly.

“So tomorrow I won’t be here to see you little one, I’ve got to go on a mission. I know I don’t like it either. Yes I’ll miss you” he explained and told her when she answered him with a bark, he wanted to pretend that he could understand her even though he in fact couldn’t.

Saying his goodbyes his feet leads him back to the compound. He’s already counting down the minutes until he’s back from the mission that hasn’t even started yet.

Five days later the jet was touching down on the runway at the compound carrying all members of the Avengers, Bucky’s plan was to take a quick shower, get dressed and head to the woods to see his wolf.

Going towards the woods a little later than he wanted as Steve all but forced him to have something to eat he looked around expecting to see her, he walked further into the woods looking between the gaps of the trees for his little wolf.

Just as he was about to call out for her he felt a presence behind him, before he could turn around he was knocked on to his front with a loud thud. He manage to turn his body around coming face to face with his wolf whose whole body shook due to her tail wagging furiously from side to side.

“Hi pretty girl, you snuck up on me. Yeah yeah I missed you too”

He manages to get her off him so he could sit up, she walks off but looks behind her to see if he follows, he does once she yaps at him. “So bossy, jeez.” Another yap comes from her. “I’m coming hold on!”

He follows her throughout the woods, getting further away from the trial, reassuring her that he was still behind her every time she looked over to him. He frowns when she stops in front of a tent that was mostly ripped. “What are we doing here pretty girl?” She goes inside and he hears a noise and then rustling. “Little wolf?” He panics.

His heart stops.

“P-pl-please don’t freak out.”

“Wh-what…”

“I’m little wolf… I’m human, well I’m a wolf, well you know.”

“I-I don’t understand.”

“Which part?”

“You’re a wolf?”

“Yes.”

“But you’re also human?”

“Yes.”

“Jesus, I’ve seen it all now!” You watch him as he paces up and down, his eyes bouncing from you to the ground. “How?”

“I don’t know, I was born like it.”

“Is this a trick? Is little wolf inside?”

“It’s not a trick.”

“I don’t believe you.” His eyes narrow at you.

“Right.” Taking off the clothes you had just put on, you want to laugh at how bright his face goes at seeing your naked form. “Watch.”

And he does. He watches as the human in front of him instantly becomes a wolf. His little wolf. His eyes blink in quick succession at the sight. “This is insane!”

Turning back in to your human form, you put your clothes back on again. “I didn’t think you’d react like this, I’m sorry if I’ve scared you. I promise I’m not going to hurt you.”

“How else am I supposed to react?” He snapped at you.

“I-I don’t know, you’re the first person I’ve ever shown… I’ll-I’ll go now, please, please don’t tell anyone about me, they’ll hunt me.”

Bucky watches as you grab your things from the wrecked tent, quickly packing whatever you had to your name in a duffle bag. “Wait, just… you don’t need to leave. I just wasn’t expecting you to turn into a human, I’m sorry for snapping at you.”

“No-no it’s okay, I-I shouldn’t have shown you, I’m sorry.” You said as you scramble to grab all your things.

“Hey, hey stop. You don’t need to leave.”

“I-I do.”

“You don’t, I’m not going to tell anyone I promise. It just freaked me out, I wasn’t expecting little wolf to turn into a person, you know?”

“I’m sorry for freaking you out.” You kick a pebble finding it more easier than to look at him. “You promise you won’t tell anyone?”

“I promise.”

“I don’t have any friends by the way.” Bucky’s head snapped up to face you, a puzzled expression on his beautiful face. “You asked where my friends were, I don’t have any.”

Moving slowly to sit down on a log you pat it as an invitation for him to sit too. “My… my pack kicked me out.”

“Why?”

“I’m the runt.” Picking up a stick you began to pick at it. “I’m weaker than the rest of them so I was kicked out.”

“You’re not weak-“

“I am compared to the rest of them.” You shrugged, still playing with the stick.

“What’s your name?” He asked after a few minutes of silence.

“Y/n, yours?”

“Bucky.”

“Weird name.”

“Your name is weird!”

You both sat there on that log arguing about whose name was weirder, for nearly twenty minutes. The argument only coming to an end when Bucky’s phone started ringing. You could see it on his face that he was nervous and felt terrible about leaving you alone in the woods but you waved him off telling him that it’s okay. You both walked silently towards the entrance of the woods, Bucky smiled as you shifted back into your wolf form.

“Hey Y/n” you turn around to face him. “Your name is weird.” Bucky chuckles when you growl in response.

It had been four months since you showed Bucky your human form, and truly you were shocked that he kept coming back to see you, he would even bring food and drinks with him when he came. Sometimes the two of you would sit on the log and talk about everything and anything, sometimes you’d both walk around the woods - taking down the snares and disabling the bear traps that hunters would put there.

Bucky opened up to you about his past, told you things that not even Steve or his therapist knew about, he told you all about his nightmares and how that sometimes he would see the ghosts of his victims. He sat there on that hard wooden log pouring everything out to you and when he found the courage to look at you he was surprised not to see the look of fear, judgement or even pity in your eyes. You didn’t even say anything, there was no ‘it wasn’t you’ or ‘you’re a good man now’ like he always got told, no you took his hand in yours and laid your head on his shoulder.

You opened up about your own past, you told him that your mum was human and your dad was a wolf who met and fell in love, you didn’t go to school but was taught maths and English with the rest of the pups, and even though your former pack were also human they preferred being in their wolf form that mainly lived in woods.

“One night my mum was hurt by a wolf, I didn’t get back to the manor in time an-and when I did my mum was badly injured, my dad killed the rogue wolf and once my mum was being treated for her injuries my dad told me to get my things and to leave his pack.”

“But why? It wasn’t your fault.”

“Because I was supposed to stay there with her, it was my fault she was attacked.”

“Where was you?”

“My friend wanted to go on a run and asked for me to go with her, my mum told me to go and have some fun.” Shaking your head at the memory, you shrug your shoulders. “I shouldn’t have listened, I should have done what my dad said and stayed with her.”

“How old was you?”

“Fourteen.”

“Jesus, Y/n you was a child!”

“That didn’t matter I was weak in my dads eyes, he would have rather lose his pup then his mate.”

Bucky wrapped his arm around you and pulled you closer to him and rested his head against yours.

“Y/n!” He called out for you one day as he tried to make sure that he didn’t trip over and drop the bag he was carrying. “Y/n?”

“I’m here!”

Turning to where your voice was coming from he saw you in the lake, the first thought that came into his head when he laid eyes on you was that you were the most beautiful thing in the world. “What are you doing in there?”

“I’m a fish!” You sarcastically say. “I’m bathing.”

“It’s about time, you started to smell.” He grins softly, as he turns his back on you to take out the food he stole from the compound for you to eat.

“I don’t smell no more. Don’t look, okay?” You say even though he’s already seen you naked a few times. Wrapping an old towel that you stole from someone’s backyard around you, you walk quickly past Bucky going straight into the tent.

“It’s going to rain tomorrow you know.” Bucky says as he gets the fire started.

“Is it?”

“Yeah so why don’t you-“

“Nope.”

“I didn’t even fin-“

“Nope Buckles.”

“Y/n.”

“Buckanna.”

Bucky rolled his eyes at the different names you were calling him, even if he did have a small smile on his lips. “Please just stay at my apartment, I don’t even live there.”

“Buckaroo, I’ve told you I’m okay.” You come out of the tent dressed and took a seat next to Bucky. “Now, what interesting stories do you have to tell me?”

He handed you your favourite snack and drink before taking his own out of the bag. “Well Sam did the splits when he slipped and he made sure everyone knew about it.”

“Was he okay?”

“Even though he told everyone he got split in half, he seemed alright to me.” Bucky’s lips curled up into a smile at hearing your laugh, he always wanted to hear more of the sound.

“He’s a bit dramatic isn’t he?” The super soldier nods with a chuckle. “So what else has happened?”

He fills you in on all the things that the team did in the two days that he didn’t see you, your face lighting up at hearing the crazy things they do. Bucky had asked you to meet them, even promising you that they wouldn’t judge or fear you but he also understood why you kept saying no. Even though your mum is human you was brought up to never trust them, you had been told that all humans were evil and would hurt you if you ever let them get too close. Bucky was confused because you had let him get close and he was surprised that you didn’t have a response to that, you just shrugged your shoulders.

Despite not wanting to meet Bucky’s friends you still liked hearing about them and all the things they get up to, he assured you that they were great people and that they would welcome you with open arms, you was just too shy to admit to Bucky that you liked it just being the two of you.

Little did you know that Bucky felt the same.

“Sir there is a fire.”

FRIDAY’s voice interrupted the movie that the whole team was watching in the cinema room, they were treating themselves to a relaxing day after a long week of missions, when they registered the words from the A.I they were all confused as the alarms didn’t go off, Tony asked where the fire was and the response had Bucky jumping up from his seat and running out of the room leaving everyone confused.

“In the woods, sir.”

Steve and Sam were right on the brunettes heels, from where they were they could see the whole woods ablaze. Steve tried to get Bucky to slow down but all he could hear was “Y/n. Y/n’s in there.”

They had no idea who Bucky was talking about and they couldn’t get him to slow down enough to even explain, but they continued to follow him.

Bucky’s heart was in his throat the closer he got to the woods, he kept calling out your name waiting to hear your voice to call back but there was nothing, his eyes bounced around to see which best way he could get inside and when he found an opening he took off running as fast as his legs would take him. He could hear Steve shouting for him to stop and then Sam telling Steve to stop but he wasn’t focused on that, he needed to find his little wolf.

“Buck slow down!” Steve shouted as he tried to keep up with his best friend.

Bucky wouldn’t, he couldn’t, he was trying to find the correct trail that would lead him to the wrecked tent that she was calling home despite his insistence that she could stay at the apartment he had, the one he never stayed at. “I need to find her!”

You was in your wolf form - true form as you always called it - trying to find some food, you came to a halt when you heard unfamiliar voices of two men, crouching low you made sure that they didn’t see you, you crept forwards until you could see them, gulping when you did.

Hunters.

They were standing there counting their kills, laughing and mocking and even mimicking the action of one of the deers, you let out a very low growl when one of the men unbuckled his belt and opened his zip and began urinating on the animals. You couldn’t understand why they were doing what they were doing, you only ate the animals you found because you were hungry, even as a wolf you hated doing it because you knew what it was like to be hunted.

Your heart stopped when a twig snapped behind you, instantly knowing it was a rabbit by the smell of it. The hunters heard it too.

“Shit, is that a wolf?”

“Yeah, fuck you know how much that things head will pay us? Come here little doggy we aren’t going to hurt you.”

Letting out a deep growl you hoped that they would get scared and just leave but sadly they just laughed. One of them pulled a gun out and fired a shot towards you and with that you took off. They were fast but you were faster.

Zigzagging and flinching as bullets were flying past you, you let out a sharp cry when a bullet struck your hind leg. Despite knowing the woods better than anyone else you couldn’t think straight, and because of that you were going in further and further away from your camp. A strangled cry came from you as fell hard on the ground, an arrow had embedded itself into your side. Scrambling to your feet you managed to keep running despite the agonising pain radiating through your entire body, hiding under an undergrowth you tried to keep your breathing under control.

The smell of smoke hit your nostrils as you continued to hide underneath the undergrowth, finally gaining the strength to come out of your hiding spot your eyes went wide with fear. The place that you had been calling home was on fire.

Rabbits were running around trying to find a way out - skidding to a halt when they saw you standing there, only continuing their escape when you moved slightly to the side. Trees were falling down around you, loud frantic heartbeats of the other animals were pounding in your ears, you needed to find a way out but you just couldn’t move.

You were panting heavily as the smoke filled your lungs, finally making your legs move you began trying to find a way out of the burning woods.

“Y/n!” Your head snapped in the direction you heard your name being called from but all that was seen was fire and trees falling down, you kept hearing your name from a familiar voice that you instantly recognised as Bucky’s and an unfamiliar voice was also calling your name.

Limping towards where the panicked voices where coming from you tried to keep away from the growing flames as well as trying not letting too much smoke in, you kept letting out deep howls in hopes that Bucky and this other person could hear you.

The pain of the bullet lodged into your back leg and the arrow embedded into your side was getting worse with each and every step you took towards safety. The last thing you see is a a blurry image of someone before you passed out.

When Bucky found you he felt like his heart had stopped beating, he couldn’t tell if you were alive or not, he couldn’t hear anything over the rushing sound of blood in his ears. Despite the fact that there was fire everywhere and growing by the seconds he took slow steps towards the body of his little wolf, seeing the arrow sticking out of you had his hands balling into fists.

Steve tried to get him to move so they could continue to find this Y/n girl, he did find it sad that they were looking at the dead body of a wolf - slightly shocked that one was even in the woods - but they needed to find the woman Bucky was so worried about. “Come on Buck, we need to find your friend.”

“She-hurt-I need to-“ Steve couldn’t make sense of Bucky’s words as the brunette got closer and to the wolf.

“Buck?” Steve watches as Bucky crouched down, slowly and gently lifting the wolf into his arms whispering ‘It’s okay sweetheart. I’ve got you’ to say the blond was confused was an understatement of the century.

“We need to leave.”

“B-but Y/n?”

Bucky shot him a questioning look before looking down at little wolf in his arms, his eyes bouncing back up to Steve’s. Bucky would have laughed at the confusion written all over his best friends face but right now wasn’t the time or place.

The team looked at the super soldiers with wide eyes and confusion but Bucky didn’t pay them any attention, continuing to run past them going straight to med bay. Cho was puzzled as to why Bucky was bringing a wolf into her lab, once he explained the truth Cho got to work, well once she managed to get the distressed man away from his friend and out of the room.

Steve watched as Bucky’s leg bounced up and down, his eyes not moving an inch from the door he was pushed out of by Cho. “Buck?”

“Yeah?”

“Did you name the wolf Y/n?”

“No, her parents did.”

“What?”

He sighed, he didn’t know how Steve wasn’t understanding. “Y/n, yes? Is the wolf but she’s also human.”

“Wha-how?”

“Her parents, one human and the other just like Y/n.”

“Oh.” Steve nods and the pair quickly settles into silence.

When Cho comes out she informs Bucky that she did all that she could, his heart stopped beating assuming the worst only beating again when she says that it’s up to Y/n when she wants to wake up. Bucky walks fast into the room once Helen says he could go in and see her.

Running his fingers through your fur he told you to wake up and be fine, he begged you. “Please Y/n, I-I don’t want to lose you.” He sat there for hours just stroking your fur and watching as your chest rose and fell. Only leaving your side to stretch his legs. Steve had come in to check on the two of you, giving Bucky some food the brunette wanted to laugh as he watches Steve’s hand hover over your body.

“You can stroke her.”

“I-what if she doesn’t want me to.”

“She’s asleep she won’t know.”

Steve’s whole face lit up once his hand came into contact with your fur. “She’s so soft.”

Bucky hummed in agreement as he continued to eat the sandwich Steve had made for him, he began telling his best friend how they met and his first reaction of seeing her in her human form. To Steve it made so much sense hearing where Bucky had been sneaking off to every day when he wasn’t on missions, he smiled knowing his friend was happy for the first time since they were younger.

Not long after Steve left to get some sleep, Bucky went and sat on the floor - the softness of the chair was making him uncomfortable. His eyes had just closed when he heard rustling from the bed, before he could stand up you jumped out of the bed.

“Y/n, hey little wolf look at me.” He tried to get you to calm down but so far it wasn’t working your eyes were frantically searching around the unknown room, your tail was in between your legs and you were letting out low howls. “Y/n.”

He lets out a oof as you put your head on his chest he wraps his arms around you, whispering that you was safe when he felt your heart beat still beating erratically, careful of your injuries he ran his fingers through your fur as your eyes started to close. The next morning when Steve walked towards the room with Sam trailing behind him, they stop at the doorway at seeing a wolf lying on top of Bucky, too scared to go inside the room as the wolf began growling at them.

“Bucky.“ He shifted from his spot on the ground but didn’t open his eyes. “Wakey wakey Bucky!”

“Stop poking me Y/n/n.” He grumbled, moving his head further away from your finger as you kept poking him in his cheek.

“Well wake up then.”

“I don’t want to, I was having a nice dream.” Bucky reluctantly opens one eye, seeing you sitting on your knees with a big smile on your face he couldn’t help but smile too. “What time is it?”

“Eleven.”

“Oh right. Where did you get those clothes from?”

“The doctor gave me them.” You shrugged, the clothes were comfy although they were slightly big. “She’s nice I like her.”

“How long have I been asleep for?”

“Since yesterday, you lazy bum.”

“Shut up.” He winked at you, before you could reply back he quickly yet carefully pulled you onto his lap and wrapped his arms around you, pulling you closer to him. “How are you doing?”

“I’m fine, Helen said I was healing better than she expected.” You nodded when his hand reached out to the shirt you were wearing, lifting the material up he flinched seeing the large bruise.

“What happened?”

“There were hunters and they spotted me, they shot me in my leg and then I don’t know where it came from but I got shot by an arrow.” You point to your side. “I managed to hide then next thing I know the whole woods were on fire.”

Bucky somehow managed to pull you even closer to him and rested his head on your shoulder. “I should have been there, I’m sorry.”

“Then you would have been hurt or worse so please don’t be thinking like that, I’m fine now Bucky.”

“I don’t care, I should have be-“ his stops speaking when your hand covers his mouth.

“Stop.” Giving you his best glare, you just smiled in response well that was until he licked your palm. “That’s gross Buckles!”

He smiled in triumph as your hand instantly leaves his face. “Y/n?”

“Yes?”

“Where are you going to go? The woods are completely destroyed.”

“I-I’ll find somewhere else.” You shrugged. “Now don’t be sad that you’ll never see me ever again because I’ll draw you a picture of me for you to keep.” Winking at him causing him to laugh… sarcastically.

“You’ll do me a drawing? You’re the best.” His words dripping in sarcasm, it was his turn to wink when you rolled your eyes. “But I’m being serious Y/n, how about you stay here? I don’t think Tony will mind.”

“I-I don’t want to overstep and make anyone uncomfortable.”

“You wouldn’t, I’ll talk to Tony and if he says no then you’ll stay at my apartment, I don’t want you to leave.”

The thought of never seeing Bucky again even though he would probably find you and the thought of finding somewhere else to call home made your heart ache, plus you had lost what little things you had to your name in the fire so you nodded your head, a huge smile taking up Bucky’s face instantly.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah but you have to promise that you won’t get mad at Tony if he says no, okay?”

“I promise.” Bucky said as he placed his left hand on your cheek, his eyes slowly moving between yours and your lips, as he slowly moved in you found yourself doing the same until your lips touched.

“I really like you Y/n.” He says once the two of you reluctantly pulled away from each other.

“I really like you too.”

Bucky leads you towards the common room after he asked FRIDAY where everyone was after you helped him stand once you two had finished kissing some more, hand in hand he took it slowly as you were walking with a limp and your side started to hurt. He promised that everything was going to be okay when he noticed your heart started to beat frantically.

Introducing you to the team and them to you, Bucky was right when he said that they were all great people who wouldn’t judge you, though they all found it fascinating. You was practically hiding behind Bucky as he asked Tony if you could stay at the tower, Bucky and the team expected a dog joke to come out of the billionaires mouth, all shocked when he didn’t make one.

“Welcome to our crazy family Y/n.” Tony says with a smile. “Barnes can show you to your room oh and make him take you shopping I assume you need clothes and stuff.”

“Thank you.” You say but Tony just waves you off with a gentle smile.

It’s been three months since the fire and living at the tower with Bucky and the team, if they were honest it took them a few weeks getting use to seeing a wolf walking around, and there’s only been one incident where it took all of them to get the SHIELD agents to stand down after they pulled their guns out on you. But overall it’s been great living with them and getting to know them all.

Bucky had showed you to a room next to his where you only spent one night on your own, the next night Bucky had knocked on your door and asked if he could sleep in bed with you, from there your room became his. Despite him taking you shopping for clothes, shoes and essentials you mainly wore his shirts, which truthfully he loved seeing.

Everyone knew that there was something going on between you and Bucky but never made any comments, you had confessed to him that he was your mate then explained what it meant when he looked confused. That night the two of you made love.

You had even become an unofficial member of the Avengers when the tower was attacked and you were taking the bad guys down a lot faster than the team could. Tony had created a suit that wouldn’t have you be naked once you turned to your human form, it took him a few tries to perfect it, he picked you up and spun the two of you around once had.

“Y/n?”

“Hi, I didn’t mean to wake you.” Taking off your suit you climbed into bed with Bucky wrapping his arms around you straight away.

“You didn’t don’t worry, how did the mission go?”

“It was good, nobody was hurt.”

“Good, get some sleep okay pretty girl.” He mumbled tiredly.

“You too pretty boy.”

“Funny. Night night doll, I love you.”

Your eyes shot wide open as those last words hit your brain. It was the first time he had said those words and by the way he was softly snoring he hadn’t quite realised what he had said. Smiling shyly to yourself you snuggled further into his warm embrace.

“I love you too Bucky.”

Tags: @imcinnamoons | @pigeonmama | @capsbestgirl77 | @samodivaa

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samodivaa · 6 months ago

Text

worship in decay ( bucky barnes x reader)

Author’s note: this was affectionately nicknamed the hoe fic. i have been working on this for the better part of the past two (three?) months. im still adding, re-writing and editing a lot of the chapters. so far i have 7 chapters planned, though this may change as it's expanding by the second. weekly updates are planned, and to be perfectly honest this is just self-indulged and an ode to the sluts. please validate me, feedback is welcome. also sorry i've been gone for so long (i got married)

MINORS DNI! 18+ ONLY

PROLOGUE

You don’t know why you do it.

You suppose you could put the blame on your absent father, or the degradation and restrained hatred your mother held for you. You remember being that small child – begging for their love.

Now you find it in the hands of strangers.

Maybe you could blame it on the liquor that burns your throat and melts the ice off your bones and paints the world in some rose-coloured hue.

Or maybe (and this is the part that scares you most) you’re just truly a despicable human being, in which all of the ugly parts of your parents made you whole.

You try not to think too much about that. So you find comfort in the warmth of bodies, the hunger in kisses, the worship of strange men that bring you closer to God than any religion could.

At the end of the day; human beings are mammals at their core, it’s a dog eat dog world, and you’re starving.

‿︵‿︵ - - ‿︵‿︵

Waking up in the 21st century initially shook Bucky to his core.

American culture had fallen into a frenzy of degeneracy that could’ve made James Buchanan Barnes cry.

But he wasn’t James Buchanan Barnes anymore, he was something else.

And he was already desensitized to the dread of the world thanks to the recollection of his own mental house of horrors.

He just couldn’t believe there were more people like him.

People who are more desperate, self-serving, and shameless, he notices. He feels right at home with them.

That debauched urgency to chase a temporary high to replace the self-hatred even just for a little while was something he and these kinds of people shared. Addicts, the depraved, the lost, the broken.

Let them say Bucky Barnes was their king.

He's learned quickly that being brainwashed and kept on ice for the past 70 years really took a toll on his libido, go figure. He’s like a damn teenager full of raging hormones wanting to stick his dick in anything that moves. Now all he craves is the warmth of a human, living breathing body beneath him while their essence fills the holes in his soul.

What surprises him more is that they let him. They let his blood stained hands all over their silken soft skin, they let his rotted essence into their core, infecting them, tainting them, over and over, and they enjoy it.

His teeth graze their neck, and they should be scared that the Winter Solider could rip their throat out in a millisecond.

Instead, they coo and sigh and hold onto him tighter. It's addictive.

He loves them, every single one, for one reason or another.

This one makes pretty noises in his ear and smells like candy, that one has a beauty mark beneath her left eye and can make him laugh, those other ones look pretty in sundresses and make him breakfast in the morning. They all give him something, things he never knew he needed. To be adored, taken care of, loved.

#WE ARE SO BACKKKK #sis cooked with this one #that title is PEAKKKK

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samodivaa · 6 months ago

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give me some of ur smut dialogue powers sis

| Handprints |

18+ Minors DNI

✧Pairing✧ Hugh Ransom Drysdale x Fiancé Reader (F)

✧Warnings✧ Soft Rannie, Jealousy, Some lil bitch flirting with what’s yours, Insecurities, Wow Ransom knows comfort??, Drinking, Crying, Assault (deserved), Unprotected PinV, Desperation, Dirty Talk, Multiple Orgasms, Aftercare King — This is pretty tame for me but if I’ve missed any warnings please don’t be afraid to let me know

✧Word Count✧ 1.4K

✧Author Note✧ Everyone say frick you to this man because I ain’t been able to get things done thanks to his stupidly handsome face and my brain hyperfixating on it. Fr tho I have WIPs, ideas and everything inbetween all left to rot because this son of a bitch is plaguing my mind. He’s so hot tho….

Also big thx to my homegirlies @samodivaa @delicatebarness for reading my filth and coming up with the title 🫶

You didn’t want to go out with Ransom tonight. You had your evening all planned out; sex in the shower, snuggling in bed, sex there too — the whole shebang. But of course, Ransom found himself invited to a dinner party with some old friends that he was excited to introduce you to, so your evening was cut short to merely sharing the shower with him and fleeting kisses between tellings of his long day — he didn’t even have time to make you cum.

The night was enjoyable; most of your fiancé's friends were just like him so you could deal with them. Until she arrived, her curves wrapped in a beautiful floor-length golden gown, her incredibly blonde locks curled to perfection and her eyes predatory.

“Oh my god Rannie!!” She squealed at the sight of your incredibly handsome man, outstretching her perfect little arms and pulling him in for a tight hug.

“Hey Charlotte” Ransom smiled wide, perfect pearly white teeth directed at the stunning lady “This is my fiancé” he said, reaching a large ringed hand out to envelop yours.

Charlotte turned, that cute little lady act dropping to a sneer when she turned her attention to you. Jealously oozed out of her, jealously and bewilderment. Her scrutinising glare made you feel ugly and small.

“Hey,” she forced, spitting your name back at you. Her hand squeezed Ransom’s bicep “Wow Ran you’ve gotten big…” her eyes flickered to him before returning to you “Did you see him in high school, he was so scrawny, skinny little arms and a big bobblehead. Bet you get a lot of girls' attention now hm?”

God you wanted the ground to swallow you whole.

“Maybe but I’ve only got my eyes on one” Your betrothed looked upon you with sparkling blue orbs, squeezing your hand tight. For a moment the party faded leaving you both staring into each other's adoring eyes until Charcuterie cut it short with a fake ‘awww’.

“Well, I’ll leave you two to it then,” she says, giving Ransom a bright, man-killing smile and you a much duller, green eyed glare.

“Well that went well.”

“Huh?” Ransom turns, pulling you close by your waist and laying a soft kiss on your forehead.

“She likes you,”

“Yuh huh?”

“And she hates me.”

“She doesn’t hate you” he guffawed, his eyes scrunching up until the blue was barely visible.

“She does, she’s jealous” you argued, pushing him away slightly.

“I think you’re projecting pretty girl” he joked, quickly reining in his laugh when he noticed how upset you looked. Ransom put on a more serious look, hooking a finger under your chin with his free hand “Baby, you’re the only person I want. I only love you” You knew that. There was just something in that girl's gorgeous eyes that made your whole mind thrum with insecurity.

“I know” You pouted and he kissed you with a coo.

“Of course you do, look at the size of that rock on your finger” For effect he clasped your left hand, shoving the massive crystal into your eyeline.

The rest of the night you tried to let the situation with Charlotte go. You stuck around your fiancé most of the evening, stealing his warmth while listening to his old college football teammate drum on and on about how good of a quarterback Ransom once was.

“I remember one game he got rushed to hospital trying to challenge this mountain of a man. He was on his ass and there was blood pouring out of his head.”

“That must’ve been why he thought it was a good idea to settle for someone like her, y’know with the head injury.” A loud laugh came from behind your small huddle, you knew who it was before you even turned.

“That was out of order Charlotte” a girl in your group chastised, glaring at the now very drunk woman.

“Oh I don’t care, you lot sugarcoat everything. Ransom you could do so much better than…that” Her ringed hand failed in your direction, and a growl settled on her lips at the mere sight of you. It was enough to push you over the edge.

Shoving Ransom’s arm off your shoulders you darted away, heading straight for the car you came here in. You had to get out of the crowd, you were thoroughly embarrassed and angry at the whole situation, fat tears falling down your face by the time you swung the passenger door open.

You don’t know how long it took Ransom to settle in the seat beside you, not too long anyway. Instantly his arms were around you, a hand cradling your head into his neck while the other rubbed up and down your spine.

“I'm so sorry baby, I’m so fucking sorry” His words were thick with remorse, his fingers tightening around you “We shouldn’t have come here.”

He let you cry until you ran out of tears, his arms wrapped around you tightly until you pulled away, sighing at the wet patch on his tan jacket.

“I’m sorry” you whispered in a low voice, rubbing a sleeve over his wet shoulder in a feeble attempt to dry it off.

“Don’t apologise, pretty girl, that's what I’m here for. For letting you cry on me…and for slapping whoever disrespects what’s mine.”

“What?” You gawked, red eyes wide at his words.

“I smacked the shit outta her, she’ll think twice about saying shit like that again.” He looked so nonchalant about the whole thing, a pout of sheer unconcern pulling on his lips.

You tried to look appalled at your man’s actions, letting your jaw hang low in astonishment, but it quickly dissolved, a smile breaking out and a shocked laugh bubbling forth.

“Oh my god Hugh Drysdale!!” You smacked his arm softly, giggling freely at just the thought of that blonde’s face with Ransom’s handprint on the side of it. “We gotta get out of here before she calls the cops.”

“Agreed.” He hummed, starting the engine and setting off down the road, singing away to your shared playlist.

“Fuck baby, fucking hell…”

There was a distinct schlick schlick sound coming from the ajar door of the massive house leaving a tiny part of your brain silently thankful for its size. The rest of you doesn’t give a flying fuck.

Ransom laid out on his back beneath you, face and chest flushed and his hair awry thanks to your wandering hands. His hands gripped at your hips, helping you bounce on his thick length, chasing your third orgasm of the night. Somewhere along the journey home your insecurities and jealousy fizzled into raw desire, your hands groping at Ransom while he drove. You barely made it through the front door before you jumped his bones, shoving him into the wall and swallowing his length with ease only experience would get you. Charlotte could never.

“Taking me like such a good girl—fuckkkk—yes baby squeeze my dick” Not only was he a mess physically, his brain had short-circuited after you straddled his body, ripping the belt from the loops of his pants.

“So full Rannie” you whimpered, collapsing onto your hands. Sweat dripped off your forehead and onto his body, you fucked him ferally like two people with nothing on the brain except each other — which wasn’t far from the truth.

“That’s it, good girl, gimme one more baby I know you can” Ransom urged, pushing himself into a sit and using the last of his brainpower to sink a hand between your joined bodies to rub tight circles over your puffy clit.

“She could never make you feel this good could she?” you gripped at his locks, moaning into his open mouth. Ransom’s head shook violently in your grasp, muttering out how you were the only woman in the world that could make him feel this euphoric. Your orgasm was approaching quicker and quicker, jumping over each mental hurdle until all that was left for your brain to think of was the man filling you to the brim.

“Fuck shit m’fucking close baby, gonna fill you up again, you want that huh? Want my cum in that messy little cunt?”

His words hooked your release between their clawed fingers and hurtled it into your body. Your world went white, your body stiffening and your walls milking the man below you for all he was worth. He spilt the last of what he could offer right against your cervix, holding you tight as he shouted like a madman.

The room settled, the only sounds being your mixed breaths gasping for air.

“That was good” Ransom chuckled, pulling out of your with a hiss and flipping you over “might need to make you jealous more.”

“Don’t you dare” you warned with a glare, sealing your lips with his when he leaned down, cleaning up the mess between your legs before dealing with his own.

“I really am sorry about tonight baby, you didn’t deserve to be spoken to like that” The brunette broke the silence that had overcome you both, his fingers massaging down your spine.

“It’s alright, she got what she deserved.”

“Yes” Ransom nodded, resting his weight against your back “and you got what you did too.”

I DO NOT give permission to have my work copied, translated or reposted. If you see my work anywhere else except on this page I have not given consent for it to be used.

Comments, Reblogs, Likes & Asks are always appreciated, although if you liked this fic please consider reblogging so it can reach a wider audience. They let me know that you are enjoying what you read and give me motivation to write more.

Thanks for reading~

#bro finna make me watch the MOVIE LMAO

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samodivaa · 6 months ago

Text

"i’ve been hating everything I make as of recently" says bro who is always cooking fics like thisss:

| Secrets That Bite Back |

18+ MINORS DNI

For the longest time America’s star spangled Captain, or as you know him as Steve, has kept a little secret. A secret he thinks he guards well yet the rest of the Avengers seem to know already. Biting the bullet he decides to share this information with you but you have a secret of your own who isn’t too pleased about it.

✧Pairing✧ Bucky Barnes x Agent!Reader

✧Warnings✧ Feelings, Oblivious Reader, Mention of Wet Dreams, Mention of Oral (M), Mentions of PinV, Attempted Confessions, Jealousy, Like real bad, Voyeurism, Exhibitionism (to be safe), Multiple Hard Orgasms, Fingering, Oral (F), Degredation?, [Names: Babydoll, Baby, Bunny], Marking, Unprotected PinV, Dirty Talk, Possesive Behaviour/Words, Creampie, A lil Aftercare (Very brief), Poor Stevie, I feel so bad — If there is any more you find not listed here please be sure to let me know so i can add it.

✧Word Count✧ 1.5K

✧Author Note✧ This entire thing was sprouted from a little drabble I made a few months back that I was going to post but thought I could make something better out of it. Well its been a bit since then but here we are. I’m happy about how this has turned out considering i’ve been hating everything I make as of recently. I very much bully Steve in this fic, I felt so bad writing it. Anyways I hope you enjoy this please let me know what you think of it.

It was no secret that the face of America had a little crush on you. He wasn’t exactly accustomed to hiding his feelings, often wearing his heart on his sleeve, so at the first twinges of love brewing in the Cap’s gut everyone in the compound already knew. Except for you.

You assumed the kind eyes and lady-killing smile were something he did to everyone; he had a reputation to uphold and that meant being nice to everyone, not just his Avengers colleagues.

“Hey Cap” You smiled gently at the sight of his broad frame entering the briefing room, the first one there beside yourself. You couldn’t see it, the way his stiff shoulders visibly drooped at your honey-tinged voice, the creases in his forehead relaxing until there was no evidence of their existence at all. What was there though was a deep rosy blush as memories of the previous night’s dream filled his brain like a disease, coiling around any basic human function he once had full control over malfunctioning.

He remembers the way those perfect lips kissed his own, down over the thick column of his neck and further, until he lost his mind thanks to your expert mouth sucking gently on the head of his cock. How your eyes rolled into the back of your head when he sunk home above you, uncontrollable sounds escaping you as he took you the way he needed; primal, hard but oh so loving. Steve was down bad for you and it was affecting his professional life with you. He’d either have to get rid of you or confess and in no uncertain terms was he getting rid of such a great agent.

The crushing continued; the Cap had fallen short of his word to confess his feelings and the cycle repeating itself. The dreams, the sight of you walking around the compound in the same uniform everyone else wore yet it somehow looked even better on you, then he was making silly little mistakes.

He had made up his mind, psyching himself up in front of his bathroom mirror. This Friday was Avengers movie night, he knew you were there every week and most of his other friends were out drinking or on their own mission, leaving only you, Steve and Bucky — Bucky wouldn’t show up to the movie night so it was perfect — the pair of you cuddled up on the couch, his lips on yours instead of paying any kind of attention to the three-star rated movie that played.

There you were, sitting so cutely curled up under a thick blanket, your hand already fisting large amounts of popcorn into your mouth, your hair unruly and not a trace of makeup in sight. Steve always thought you looked the prettiest like that. He waited until the movie was well and truly underway, gunfire and explosions booming from the speakers before he made his move.

“Uhm”

You turned to him instantly, wide eyes framed with thick lashes staring up at him, “hm?”

God, you were too cute. You were making this hard on the blonde super soldier. Steve moved cautiously, taking both of your hands in his much larger ones, rough thumbs soothing over your knuckles — trying to calm himself down more than anything else. You watched the bulky man in front of you fight internal emotions threatening to bubble forth, his chest heaving with deep breaths before his eyes pinned on you, blue colour thick with determination.

“I-I don't really know how to start this…” Oh no. “I-uh I think you are amazing, an amazing agent, an amazing friend. You are gorgeous, you have such a beautiful soul that shone over me, from my first day off the ice, the rays from your smile have always made me feel alive. What I’m trying to say and failing is that I—“

Your body stiffened as a hand clapped down on your shoulder, cold and hard, glimmering against the harsh lighting of the screen to your right.

Unfortunately for Steve, you had a secret of your own. That secret watched with possessive eyes as Steve melted like hot butter in your presence, watched as the Captain’s eyes raked down your body when your back was turned — he also watched now as Steve sat a little too close to something that was not his stuttering over his confession. He’d had enough and decided that maybe Steve had to learn his place, even if it meant your little secret got out.

“Bucky” Steve breathed at the sight of his brooding friend, staring up into blue eyes that were stained green at the sight of you two canoodling right in front of him. He wasn’t sure if you were ignorant or completely oblivious to Steve’s feelings.

“Steve” Bucky returned, the coldness like the thin edge of a blade running down the length of your spine. “Do you mind?”

Steve’s hands slipped from your own, disappointment radiating from him. From the feeling of Bucky behind you, rough jeans tenting against your shoulder, you had a feeling Steve was about to feel a lot more than disappointment.

Wordlessly Bucky pulled you up, dragging you through the threshold of the sitting room to the kitchen and into the laundry cupboard. He wouldn’t be able to make it back to his room and he wanted Steve to hear everything.

“S-shit Bucky” you wailed as your second orgasm hits you like a freight train; your juices spilling all over the tinted vibrainum and his stubbled chin, he sucked hard on your puffy clit in response. Your legs shook so violently you were sure they would collapse underneath you if it weren’t for the bruising grip Bucky’s free hand had on your hip, no doubt leaving finger-shaped bruises on your skin.

The thought to keep quiet had long since run from you, even before your first orgasm. The threat of Bucky not stopping until you couldn’t leave his room, his bed, and he’d have his way with you while you were helpless had long since clouded your mind of any decency. Filthy moans spewed out your bitten lips, a mixture of pleas and Bucky’s name filling the tiny closet.

“Mm, what is it babydoll? Can’t handle it huh? Maybe you shouldn’t have been such an oblivious little bunny, letting poor Steve confess his feelings to you when you got me. This is what you get and you’re going to take it aren’t you?” Bucky growled, dirty words spilling down the sweaty skin of your neck, over the dark love bites he’d placed there earlier.

The super soldier stood, flipping you easily and capturing your lips in his own before you could even catch a breath, his tongue delving into your mouth a second later allowing you to taste your essence on him. His fingers made quick work of his belt and jeans, pushing them to the floor along with his briefs, a harsh sign vibrating against your mouth at the cold air against his raging red tip.

Your body jerked when his thick length slapped over your oversensitive clit, your gasp clipped into a softer moan when he circled only to slap it again before pushing deeper through your sopping folds.

“Who’s got you like this hm?” He whispered teasingly, his free hand finding its home around your throat, giving you a little squeeze. He didn't wait for a response before canting his hips, a dark smile gracing his lust-contorted face when he caught onto the dip of your whole. His groan complimented your shrill cry as he sunk home, giving you no time to adjust before taking you roughly. His thrusts felt so familair yet so foreign at the same time, hard unorgiving thrusts so unlike Bucky’s nature yet your body leered, loving the treatment because it knew the man responsible.

“Answer me, baby, tell the world, tell your precious little Stevie who’s fucking you. So. Fucking. Good.”

“You Bucky” the last of your dignity thrown out of a window as you sobbed out his name like a prayer, a mantra for all to hear. “Only you.”

Your third orgasm took you by surprise, no warning, no buildup. Like a star in supernova, it exploded, your vision going white and your body stiff — you couldn’t even make a sound.

“Fuck Bucky!!”

“That’s fucking right, only me, I’m the only one for you baby. You’re mines - fuck so good” he moaned loudly; pushing through your impossibly tight walls until his fat tip kissed your cervix oh so sweetly, hot spend spilling out over the end of your cunt and filling up your walls until there was no more room for it to go — the excess spilt out down the brunette’s twitching balls.

You didn't react as he bundled you up into his arms, stripping you of your shirt and throwing the clothes into the wash. You didn't feel when he moved both of your naked bodies from the tiny room out into the open, down the hall to his room. You were asleep as he cleaned you thoroughly, whispering how much he loved you against your temple.

Steve sat where you had left him, a haunted look on his face as he replayed teach and every sound you made over and over in his head. The moans he only dreamed of hearing while he made you feel so good but the name on your tongue wasn’t his and it never would be — Bucky had gotten to you first and bent you to his will, you were his. His cock twitched humiliatingly in his sweatpants.

Sigh, should I give poor Stevie his own Reader?

I DO NOT give permission to have my work copied, translated or reposted. If you see my work anywhere else except this page I have not given consent for it to be used.

Comments, Reblogs, Likes and Asks are always appreciated, however if you like this fix please consider reblogging to help it reach a wider audience. They let me know that you are enjoying what I read and give me motivation to write more.

Thank you for reading~

#let bro cook #real

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