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duckybarnes1917 · 2 years

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18+ Only

Summary: Bucky hates you. Until he doesn't.

Warnings: enemies to lovers, mommy kink, sub Bucky, dom reader, oral sex (m and f), teasing, begging not cum, orgasm denial, p in v, unprotected sex, leather cuffs, color system

AN: My Valentine's Day fic this year also serves as my entry for @the-slumberparty week one I Spy challenge! I used the diamond necklace and leather cuffs. Also, this fic fills the enemies to lovers space (G3) on my @allcapsbingo bingo card!

Bucky had always hated you. Ever since you walked into the compound, showing off and flaunting all your assets. You were a good fighter; you didn't need to shove it in everyone's faces all the time. Every time he walked past the gym and saw you sitting on Sam's chest, pinning him down again, an ugly emotion coursed through Bucky. Your triumphant smile made him want to rip you off of Sam and show you a taste of your own medicine. But he always kept walking, doing his best to ignore you.

He didn't think it was possible to hate you even more. But once again, you proved him wrong in that department. You were late. Very late. Bucky paced around the loft he had been living in undercover. He was dressed in a tailored black suit, his hair slicked back, perfectly in place. The mission called for him to pose as an art collector–with deep pockets and dark habits. He had been alone here for a month, slowly gaining the trust of the key players, and tonight was the night he was finally going to get the critical piece of information he needed. But there had been a hiccup. His mark, Zakaria Tate, had invited him to dinner. Not just any dinner, a Valentine's dinner. Date required. Bucky had begged Sam to send Yelena; her no-nonsense attitude would have made this super easy, but he declined. Bucky would have preferred that Sam himself joined him tonight over you. But Sam simply laughed and told him to suck it up. You were the only choice.

Bucky rechecked his watch just as you burst through his front door, again proving him wrong. Because he hated you even more in the crimson dress that hung to you like it was your skin.

"Don’t say it, Barnes. I know.” You pushed past him, heading toward the kitchen and pouring yourself a glass of wine.

“You’re late,” Bucky said through grit teeth. He stalked over to you and ripped the glass from your hand.

You rolled your eyes, taking a long pull from the wine bottle instead. “It’s not my fault. This ridiculous lingerie took way too much work to get into.”

Bucky tensed, his eyes immediately moving from your face to scan your body. “Wh–why would you–”

You shrugged, picking up the gift box you had walked in with. “It helps sell the part. If we were really dating. And you were really taking me out for Valentine’s. And you were really giving me that gift over there.” You paused to point at the jewelry box Bucky had waiting by the front door. “Then I would really fuck you stupid at the end of the night.”

You smiled at him as you walked past, stroking his arm lightly with your hand.

Bucky swallowed thickly, turning to watch the sway of your ass. He hated how easily you made him feel like this. Like he would drop to his knees and do whatever you asked of him just for a taste.

To Bucky’s surprise, the dinner was going well. Zakaria loved you. That wasn’t surprising; everyone loved you except for him. But the character he was playing did–he needed to act the part. He swallowed his stubbornness and inched closer to you, wrapping his arm around your waist. You smiled at him before placing a kiss on his cheek.

“Oh, there he is, my loving boyfriend. Thought you forgot you’re supposed to want to touch me.”

“Sorry, I’m not that good of an actor,” Bucky muttered.

You ignored him and turned back to the conversation at the table. Despite his snarky comeback, Bucky couldn’t help the shiver that went through him in response to your touch. Your voice low in his ear was something he could get used to.

Fuck.

No.

But his body was already reacting, squeezing your hip to pull you closer. You nuzzled into his side and placed your hand on his big thigh.

Bucky took a deep inhale; he could do this. He knew what you were doing and would not let you ruffle him.

But as soon as he relaxed, your thumb began slowly stroking his thigh. It was innocent–if he didn’t know you better. He gave you a sharp warning, but you wouldn’t look at him. Such a simple movement should not have had him turning to breathing exercises to keep himself from begging you to touch him more.

As if you could read his thoughts, your hand glided down to his knee and back, and again and again. It was becoming more challenging for Bucky to focus on what anyone at the table was saying and even harder to keep his eyes from stealing glances down your dress. He couldn’t help it, he had the perfect view, and he wanted to know what color your lingerie was–in the dark lighting, it looked red, and his cock swelled.

Shit.

“Baby–” you giggled when Bucky finally looked up from your tits. “Zakaria wants to see what you got me.”

“Oh–of course.” Bucky shook the lust off and handed you the jewelry box. “Happy Valentine’s Day, sweetheart.”

God, his voice sounded like he had swallowed knives.

Get it together.

Genuine surprise flashed across your face as you picked up the glittering diamond necklace. Everyone at the table gasped in awe. That was the reaction Bucky had hoped for.

“Go on, put it on her.” Zakaria urged.

Bucky blushed as you turned your back to him and swept your hair out of the way. His hand was shaking as he drew the necklace around your neck; his fingers left a trail of goosebumps on your skin. Once he got it clasped, you turned to him and stuck your chest out. “How does it look?”

Bucky’s mouth watered as he looked at the diamonds glittering against your skin. The necklace dipped into your cleavage, and Bucky could see your nipples pebbled through the thin fabric of your dress. He hated how hard you made his cock. Hated that you would never do anything about it. Hated that he was always destined to imagine you fucking him while he stroked his cock alone.

Zakaria laughed, “I think our friend may be ready to leave our company.”

Fuck, was he being that transparent?

“Not before dessert,” you said, smiling mischievously.

Bucky wasn’t prepared for your lips to collide with his. You did it so fast; he wasn’t sure what had happened. By the time his brain caught up and he registered the soft warmth of your lips, you were already pulling back to whisper in his ear.

“If I liked you, Barnes–” you sighed longingly, the heat of your breath tickling his ear.

Bucky stared at you wide-eyed and begged silently for you to finish your thought. He needed it–for later.

The entire time you ate your dessert, Bucky could only think about what you had left unsaid. What would you do if you liked him? What did you want to do to him?

You threw back the last of your drink and suddenly flopped into Bucky’s lap–pretending to be the love-drunk girlfriend you were playing. You giggled, and Bucky helped you sit up; you used his leverage to scoot yourself into his lap. Bucky froze as your eyes snapped to his when your ass felt his sizeable bulge.

“Oh, you fucking wish,” you whispered against his lips, that glint that Bucky hated so much in your eyes.

Your smile looked predatory, and as hard as Bucky tried to find the hate inside himself that would allow him to push you off or at least come back with a witty response, all he could do was swallow down a whimper.

Your smile grew, and you pushed your chest against him while your fingers ran through his hair. “Is this–” you circled your hips to emphasize what you were referencing, “why you hate me so much? You just wanna fuck me?”

“Stop,” Bucky begged quietly; his grip on your waist tightened, but you kept squirming.

“Be a good boy, and I’ll go easy on you the rest of the night.”

Bucky couldn’t help himself, his hips pushed up against you, and he cursed under his breath. Your eyes darkened, and Bucky knew he had indeed given himself away now. Usually, a comment like that would have gotten you a death glare and probably an ugly name thrown your way. But it had all been a mask, all of it. Because he wanted this. Too much.

Suddenly you stood up. “We’re leaving. Thank you so much, Zakaria. It was lovely.”

You hauled Bucky to his feet, and the protest Zakaria had started to give died on her tongue when she saw the obvious reason for his quick exit.

“Have fun, you two; don’t be strangers.”

Bucky didn’t even care that he had got nothing out of this dinner other than a raging hard-on. He couldn’t think past how your hips moved as you marched out of the restaurant. You didn’t stop once you were outside, and Bucky worried that he had completely fucked this up and made a jackass of himself.

“Wait! Where are you going?!” Bucky jogged to catch up to you.

“Back to the loft. Can’t talk here.”

Bucky kept his mouth shut and followed you. Maybe you had noticed something he didn’t–since you were actually working the mission instead of acting like a horny teenager. As he followed you, he replayed the night, searching for something he missed, but all he could remember was you. He didn’t even realize you were back in the loft until you slammed the door shut and pushed him up against it.

“What the fuck, Barnes?”

“Wh–what?” Bucky tried not to rut his hips against you but failed when your grip on his wrists tightened.

“This whole time? I thought you hated me–”

“I do,” Bucky groaned. “Hate that I can’t have you.”

Your brows furrowed. “So you just decided to be a dick?”

“Had to,” Bucky said breathlessly. “If I didn’t pretend that you make me so unbearably horny, I would have begged you to fuck me every goddamn mission.”

Bucky’s face fell into a pout when you let him go and took a few steps back. You were gonna leave. Probably laugh in his face first and then leave him like this, hard and desperate.

“So do it. Beg.” You stuck out your hip and crossed your arms to emphasize your breasts.

Bucky stood stunned for a moment, still not sure if you were being serious.

You sighed, irritated, and started to move toward the exit. Bucky immediately dropped to his knees. He wasn’t going to let you go that easily.

“Please.”

Bucky licked his lips nervously, not really sure what else to say. Your brow rose, unimpressed and expecting more.

“I’m sorry, please; I want you so bad.”

“What do you want from me, baby boy?”

Bucky finally looked up at you, and the view made him groan. This is how he wanted to be all the time, on his knees, looking up at you. He needed to answer you before you got mad, but he didn't know what to ask for first; he wanted everything.

“Want you to fuck me,” Bucky hated how needy he sounded, but he couldn’t help it.

You smiled and stepped forward, tipping his head back. “I’ll think about it.”

Panic was evident on Bucky’s face, he knew it, but all you did was laugh before lifting your leg and placing it over his shoulder.

“See if you can earn it.”

Oh god.

With a trembling hand, Bucky slid your short dress up your thighs slowly, mentally preparing himself for the sight of your coveted cunt. Nothing could have prepared him, and as soon as he saw your crotchless red panties, he whimpered and gripped your thigh harder.

“Can I use my mouth?” He asked, eyes wide with hope.

“Of course, you can, baby.”

“Thank you, mommy,” Bucky stuck his head under your dress before he could see the shock and pleasure on your face.

The sting in his scalp spurred him on as your grip tightened and you pressed him closer to your heat. His tongue moved urgently, and every time you made a pleasured noise, he moaned against your clit.

“I’m close, baby, don’t stop,” your breathy sigh spurred Bucky to slide his hands up your thighs and grip your hips. He pulled you even closer, sliding his warm tongue into you over and over.

“Fuck yes, baby boy, fuck me, fuck me.” Your hips moved frantically, using his nose to stimulate your clit.

Bucky could have cried; this was fucking bliss. He quickly unbuttoned his pants and pulled the zipper down, desperate to stroke himself in time with his tongue.

“I didn’t say you could touch your cock,” you said breathlessly, and Bucky whimpered. He was desperate for some kind of relief, but he was afraid to disobey you. Instead, he moved his hand out of his pants and gripped your ass hard, fucking you even deeper with his tongue. He didn’t stop until you came so hard he had to hold you up so you wouldn’t fall.

Bucky tried to remain patient while you lowered your leg and patted his head condescendingly. He was still afraid you would leave at any moment.

“That was good, baby.”

Bucky blushed, looking up at you hopefully. His hands were clenched at his sides to keep from touching himself.

“Go to the bedroom and take all your clothes off.”

Bucky scrambled to his feet, ignoring your chuckle as he raced to the bedroom, peeling his clothes off.

Thankfully, you didn’t make him wait long; you walked into the room and only paused momentarily to check him out.

“Help me out of this dress, baby.”

Bucky slid the zipper of your dress down quickly, almost breaking it. The silk puddled at your feet, and Bucky growled, low and deep, at the sight of you before him. You moved away too soon for his liking, directing him to lie on the bed.

“You never opened my gift.”

Bucky held his breath as you crawled over him. You sat on his chest and opened the gift for him. Bucky’s eyes went wide as he looked at the black leather cuffs inside.

“Originally, I bought them as a joke. But…”

“Yes. Please.” Bucky held his wrists out to you excitedly.

“You know the colors?”

When Bucky nodded, you kissed his wrists before placing the cuffs on him.

“This is gonna be fun,” you smiled wickedly at him before sitting back so you could unhook your bra. You removed it slowly, enjoying Bucky’s gaze and how he worried his lip every time you almost removed it completely.

“Mommy, please!” He finally whined, and you threw the bra to the floor.

Bucky reached his cuffed hands out, but you moved out of his reach. “Should have thought about that before you said yes, baby boy.”

You grabbed his joined wrists and lifted them over his head, putting your breasts in reach of his hungry mouth.

It was hard, but Bucky resisted, thrusting his hips in the air as he groaned. “Please, can I?”

God, his lips practically brushed against your nipple as he spoke.

“Can you what?” You teased.

Bucky squirmed, frustrated, and unable to think with all his blood now in his swollen, ignored cock. “Tits. Want–” Bucky groaned as you lowered yourself even more. “Wanna suck your tits,” he rushed out in one breath.

“Go ahead, baby.”

Bucky’s tongue flicked over your nipple quickly before he sucked it into his mouth. His hips pistoned into the air as he sucked. He moved to the next one, giving it the same treatment.

“Is there something else you need from me, baby?”

Bucky whined, your breast still in his mouth and his eyes watery.

You sat up and ran your finger over his pouting lips. “What else do you need, baby? Use your words.”

“Need–” Bucky’s breath caught as he looked at you, naked except for the diamond necklace around your neck and nuzzled between your breasts. “Need you to touch me.”

“Come on, you can do better than that.”

Bucky frowned, a confused look on his face.

“I know you’ve got filthy, dirty thoughts in that big cyborg brain of yours. Come on.”

“Oh god, I–” Bucky closed his eyes, trying to find some confidence. “I need you to touch my cock. Put it in your tight pussy and come all over me. Need you to make me come, mommy, wanna come inside you, fuck.”

“That’s better, baby.” You kissed his chest, slowly dragging your lips down until you reached his throbbing cock.

You didn’t show it, but you were just as wound up as he was. It would be so satisfying to slide him inside you now. Fuck him fast and frantic until you both came way too quickly. Maybe next time. For now, you needed to make him work for it. And maybe pay him back for being such a dick to you. You let your saliva dribble over the crown of his cock and stroked him lightly to spread it. He was already so wound up that simple action had him thrusting off the bed.

You couldn’t resist pushing him further, sucking on his tip while your hand moved faster, and you rolled his balls gently.

“Oh fuck! Yes! God, don’t stop!”

You didn’t, only removing your mouth long enough to ask him if he wanted to come. A resounding yes made you chuckle. Poor boy.

“Do you wanna come, or do you wanna stick your fat cock in my little pussy?”

You didn’t give him time to think as your mouth wrapped around his tip again, and his mind went blank.

“Bucky, I asked you a question.”

“Both?” He tried but knew it was pointless.

“Choose, or I’ll choose for you.”

Bucky hesitated, your mouth felt so fucking good, and he had imagined coming down your throat so many times. He was already so close it would only take a few more strokes, and he’d be there.

He groaned, sagging against the bed. “Want your pussy.”

But you didn’t stop; you took him deeper in your mouth and sucked hard.

“Want your pussy!” Bucky gasped as suddenly he was in your throat, and you were swallowing around him.

Was this a test? He didn’t think he was going to pass. His balls were heavy with need, and your tongue was coaxing him to the brink faster and faster.

“Please, mommy! I’m gonna come! Please stop,” Bucky gasped, hands clenched tightly as he fought the oncoming orgasm. “Oh,” he drew the word out long and needy. “Please, I’ll come; stop, please.” He was so close now he could almost taste the pleasure.

That was when you stopped, pulling your mouth off of him slowly and giving his crown one more good lick.

“You did so good, baby boy.” You straddled him, running your wet pussy over his dick before pushing his tip inside. “Let’s see how long you last inside me.”

Bucky’s mind went blank as you slid down his length. You looked so perfect, perched on his cock with nothing but diamonds on your sexy body. He couldn’t breathe.

Your ass met his thick thighs, and Bucky groaned. “So–good,” he sounded drunk.

“Don’t come.”

That was the only warning he got before your hands found his thighs, and you began fucking yourself on his throbbing cock.

“You’re so big, baby. I’m gonna come so hard.” You threw your head back, working your hips even faster.

Bucky tasted blood in his mouth; he was biting his tongue, trying his best to keep from filling you up.

Your hand drifted down your body, and Bucky had to close his eyes when you started rubbing your clit.

“Mommy, I–I’m gonna come, please.”

“You’re not allowed.”

“But–” Bucky groaned as you moved your hands to his chest and fucked him faster.

“This is what you asked for, baby boy. You wanted to be balls deep inside me. Wanted me to fuck you.”

Bucky couldn’t argue. So he squeezed his eyes shut and tried his best to hold back. Even as you came, moaning his name and squeezing his cock like a vice, he didn’t come.

A tear ran down his cheek as you came down from your high.

“Look at me, pretty boy.” You leaned forward and wiped the tear from his cheek. “You were so good for me.”

Bucky sniffled as your lips brushed against his. “I’m sorry I was a jerk.”

“Oh, Bucky,” you cupped his cheek and looked him in the eye. “I always liked you too. Only you. I’m sorry I was a pain in the ass.”

You kissed him then, slow and deep. Bucky felt bad, but he broke out of the cuffs and gently moved you to lay on your back. He held your face as he kissed you back, stroking your tongue with his and holding you close. His cock throbbed angrily inside you, but you hadn’t given him permission to move.

Your hand moved from his hair to his ass, grabbing it tightly. “Fuck me, Bucky.”

Bucky’s hips punched forward. “I–I can’t. I’ll come.”

He looked so disappointed.

“I believe in you. Fuck me.” You spread your legs wide for him, and he dropped his forehead to rest on yours.

“I hate you.” But you both knew now that he didn’t mean it.

He kept you close while he moved his hips slowly, building up speed and keeping his thrusts as deep as he could.

“Don’t stop,” you groaned when he started to slow down.

“Gonna come,” he mumbled against your lips.

“Haven’t earned it,” you huffed back. “Fuck me. Hard.”

Gathering the little self-control Bucky had left, he lifted himself onto his knees and grabbed your hips, pistoning into you as hard as he could manage.

He shouldn’t have, but his hand reached out to squeeze one of your bouncing breasts.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck! Please, gotta stop.”

You ignored him, arching your back and pushing your chest out. Bucky growled, quickly descending on your breasts with his mouth. Sucking one while he squeezed the other. His hips moved frantically, losing his rhythm.

“Please, mommy, can I stop?” His voice was muffled against your chest.

Your response was to wrap your legs around his waist tightly. He groaned, trying to think about something other than how wet and warm you were around him. You didn’t make it easy.

“Fuck my little pussy, yeah, fuck, fuck, baby, mommy’s coming.”

Your walls spasmed around him, and Bucky’s hot tears fell onto your chest as he held on for dear life, silently begging to stop before he spilled his seed inside you.

“Come, baby,” you said through deep breaths as your high faded.

Bucky barely managed to ask where before he was pounding into you. When you said, “inside, come in my pussy.” Bucky’s hands moved to your ass, gripping it tight as he fucked into your warm, tight cunt frantically as if he was afraid you’d change your mind.

“Thank you, thank you, mommy, pussy feels so good,” he whined, grinding deeper as his orgasm overtook him. He froze for a moment, gasping and groaning against your neck as he came harder than he ever had before. But soon, he was slowly fucking his come deeper into you, whispering praises against the column of your throat.

Your hand ran through his hair, and he nuzzled deeper.

“If I had known the serum kept you hard after orgasm, I would have let you come sooner.”

“Fuck you,” Bucky groaned, punching his hips forward to make you gasp.

“You liked it,” you giggled.

“Fucking loved it, never wanna leave your pussy.”

“Keep fucking me like that and calling me your mommy, and I’ll let you fuck me as much as you want.”

“Happy fucking Valentine’s Day to me,” Bucky whispered incredulously before moving you up the bed to start round two.

#navy and roo sleepover #allcapsbingo2023 #bucky barnes smut #subby!bucky #enemies to lovers #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x poc!reader #the sleepover week one #bucky barnes #tfatws #sebastian stan #bucky smut

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dilemmaontwolegs · 2 years

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Seven Seconds || Bucky Barnes

Summary: In seven seconds you see your entire future laid bare. Warnings: pregnancy, old age death WC: 1.5k

In seven seconds your life completely changed.

The elevator door had only just begun to open with Edith’s voice announcing the level number that opened out in the common room where most of the team had gathered. Though you had not met all of the Avengers during your induction training, you had met most at least in passing as you were given a tour of the compound. This would be your last stop on the way to the apartment that would be your home while you stayed to train your precognition powers with Wanda.

Noise spilled through the widening gap of the doors and you looked around at the lively group of people bustling about in the kitchen and dining space. They moved harmoniously between each other as they made dinner and drinks, like a family.

Past the kitchen lay the oversized lounge suite and the largest tv you had ever seen, Animal Planet playing on silent. There was only one person watching the Great White shark stalking its unsuspecting prey and he turned towards the elevator as the jaw of that predator opened wide for the kill.

Blue eyes connected with yours and a flash of pain lacerated your head as you stumbled forward.

–

One.

“Are you alright?” he asked with concern written on his face.

“I haven’t seen Bucky care about anyone since Steve,” Sam teased with a nudge of his elbow. “Whatever you are doing, keep it up.”

Sam walked off, leaving you with Bucky and you noticed the frown lines in his forehead had eased away along with the sadness that tinged his eyes whenever you looked into them.

“I’m fine,” you promised with a reassuring smile, “it was just a headache but it’s already gone.”

“You should still get it checked out.”

“No time,” you said as you slipped out of his hands and straightened the lines of your dress, “we are almost late.”

Bucky took a deep breath and turned towards the venue that was lit up like the Fourth of July, though it was only fitting for the memorial of Steve Rogers. He had been dreading the moment but with Sam waving at him from up ahead, and the rest of the team waiting inside he could finally take those last steps. He had been dreading the event after feeling like he would never get over the loss of his one constant in his life but with the support around him he had the strength to carry on.

Two.

The vision came too late as you saw the man take aim at Bucky.

Your scream could do nothing to stop the impending doom as the man squeezed the trigger.

Thankfully Sam had been keeping an eye on his friend and threw his vibranium shield out to ricochet the bullet away. The air in your lungs exploded with relief and you returned to focusing on the torrents of possible futures passing through your head, searching for the proverbial needle in a haystack to save the hostages inside the building.

You trusted that those two would take care of each other and protect you while you had your own job to do.

Three.

“You like like her,” Sam stated before you rounded the corner to the kitchen. “Just tell her.”

Bucky’s cheeks were burning red and he shovelled another spoonful of cereal into his mouth.

“What’s happening?” you asked as you took a seat beside Sam.

“Well-”

“Nothing,” Bucky spluttered with a cough as he choked on his breakfast. “Sam’s just talking nonsense.”

Your shoulders dropped with a pout and you turned to Sam to get the gossip but he had already made himself sparse. You caught Bucky staring at you when you turned back and cocked an eyebrow at him in question.

“Do you want to go for a walk?” he asked with a quiet reservation that wasn’t uncommon when it was just the two of you. You chewed your lip wondering if you should tell him about the thunderstorm about to arrive and he saw the hesitation, clearing his throat. “Nevermind, you’re probably busy.”

“I’d love to,” you rushed to say as you saw him backing away. “It’s just, it’s going to bucket down shortly.” You pointed to the window that had been full of blue sky only moments earlier but was quickly darkening. “How about a movie instead?”

The shadows on his face disappeared as one of his rare true smiles replaced them.

Four.

You were dizzy as you twirled around until the blur of the crowd came to a stop.

Dozens of familiar faces and even more unfamiliar ones circled you and clapped loudly as you settled back on your feet. You broke away from the grinning faces to find the only one that mattered, smiling back at you.

The tuxedo fit him perfectly and the boutonnière of pink carnations were fragrant in the air, the colour of his suit a contrast to the white dress you wore.

A wedding dress.

Behind Bucky towered a cake as tall as he was and beyond it was a banner congratulating Mr & Mrs Barnes.

Five.

“Bucky!” you screamed as you saw the blood trail through the backdoor and into the laundry.

Heavy footsteps thudded across the wooden floors upstairs before Bucky dropped over the railing, bypassing the steps entirely as he rushed to your side. He expected to find an alien invasion given the shock on your face but all he found was a few smears of blood, a half eaten mouse and Alpine proudly licking his chops.

The scent of the dead animal made your stomach turn and you gagged as Alpine placed his paw on it before tearing another chunk of meat away from the bones.

“Nope, can’t do it,” you croaked and turned to the laundry sink to upheave your stomach's contents. “Please get it out of the house.”

Bucky frowned in concern and pressed his warm hand to your forehead. “That’s the second time this week you’ve been sick.”

“And it’s the second time Alpie’s decided to get takeout this week,” you groaned, replacing Bucky’s flesh hand for his colder vibranium one.

“Are you sure it’s not something else?” he asked, his eyes dropping to your stomach.

Six.

“Nat, no silly faces. Steve, look at the camera,” Bucky warned as the photographer made a final adjustment to his tripod. “Your mother wants at least one good photo before you go.”

The backyard was crowded with friends, celebrating the twins going off to college. It would be the last time you would all be together under the same roof until the mid-semester break but the ache of missing them had already settled in your chest.

The camera clicked and you knew whatever moment it captured would be perfect; even if Steve was looking over at his girlfriend, Nat was sticking her tongue out, you had tears in your eyes and Bucky’s mouth was open with another warning to the twins.

Seven.

Your bones ached as you hobbled down the hallway with a cup of tea in hand. Hot water splashed over the rim as your hand trembled uncontrollably but no matter how hard you tried you could not steady them anymore.

As you always did, you stopped to admire the framed photos that lined the walls to the bedroom.

You smiled as you saw the latest family portrait to be taken at Bucky’s 169th birthday only a few months earlier. He had still been able to walk at that stage and stood with the support of Steve in the centre of the photo beside you. Nat flanked your other side and every other inch of the photo was taken up by the grandchildren and great-grandchildren that had blessed your life in the last 35 years.

Water splashed over the lip of the cup and burned the wrinkled skin on your hands. A small gasp of pain had you concentrating on reaching the bedroom and delivering the drink while there was still some liquid left in it.

“Here you go, my love,” you rasped as you reached the bedroom but the cup slipped from your fingers and smashed across the floor. “Bucky?”

He looked peaceful in a way he had not for months after his body started to dramatically deteriorate. The painlines on his face had disappeared in the minutes since you left the room and his chest no longer rose with shaking breaths.

Your chest tightened as you stumbled towards him and took his hand that was still warm. Darkness was creeping into your vision as you struggled to pull air into your lungs but it didn’t matter as you clung to Bucky’s hand one last time.

–

You were thrown back into the present and found yourself teetering on your feet but a pair of hands caught you, one warm and one cold.

“Are you alright?” he asked with concern written on his face.

You blinked dumbly as you stared into the pair of blue eyes of the man you had just spent a lifetime with. But these eyes were different. These eyes held the sadness from losing Steve and the loneliness that came with self-isolating. These eyes did not hold any love for you. These eyes didn’t know you.

But they would.

You had seen it.

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x poc!reader #bucky barnes fanfic

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cevansbrat0007 · 2 years

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His Savior

Summary: Do you have what it takes to save a wounded man's soul? Bucky Barnes sure seems to think so. And he doesn't much care if you're willing or not.

Warnings: Smut, DubCon, Cock Warming, Prisoner Reader, Kidnapping (referenced), Drugging (mentioned), Light Stockholm Syndrome, Manhandling, Cursing, Potential Future Stucky (if you squint), Minors DNI

A/N: This is a dark fic unrelated to anything I have previously written, so please heed the above warnings. Likes, comments, and reblogs are greatly appreciated. Let me know what you think.

You’d been sitting like this for the better part of an hour.

“Please, sir…” You sob as your hands grip the table in front of you. “Can-can I please move?”

Having only recently returned from a mission, he’d sought you out the moment he’d arrived back at the hidden compound. And now you were perched on his lap, while his thick, hard cock remained nestled deep inside you. Keeping him warm.

“No.” Bucky growls before slicing off another piece of apple. Using his knife, he holds it to your lips. You shiver at the gleam of the blade when it catches a hint of sunlight, sending memories flooding back.

Reminding you of a time when you used to be free.

“Not hungry, moya dorogoy?” My darling. Your captor purrs as he traces the seam of your lips with the chunk of fruit, even as you shake your head no. “You need to eat. You’ve lost weight since I’ve last seen you.” You can't help the way your pulse thrums whenever he speaks to you in Russian.

Knowing that it will make him happy, you reluctantly accept his offering. You take your time as you chew, keenly aware that your every move is being watched.

Studied.

Committed to memory.

You were slowly learning that this man possessed a number of dark and twisted fantasies. All of which seemed to revolve around you. Starting with the one that had initially led him to abduct you in the first place.

Your eyes flutter closed as you recall the first time you’d seen him. It was almost as if you’d been drawn in by the beautifully broken man. The pain in his battle-hardened eyes, the hurt…it had called to you the day he had walked into your shop.

You’d wanted to help him, fix him.

At the time he'd been quiet, only concerned with making his purchase and leaving. And then he’d returned days later to steal you away in the middle of the night. Simply plucked you from your bed without uttering a single word. And then you'd awoken from a drugged sleep in a bedroom that you did not recognize.

Of course you’d put up a fight at first, holding out hope that someone - anyone - would come for you.

But you’d been wrong.

After all, he was Bucky Barnes, the newly reformed Winter Soldier. He was one of the so-called good guys now. A force for peace, a soldier for justice. And Captain America’s right-hand man.

You should’ve known better.

You should’ve known it was over when Sam Wilson, the one they called Falcon, had come to see you one day. His handsome face had been a mask of sympathy as he stood in your doorway, holding the keys to your gilded cage.

He’d actually apologized for all of it. For everything. Including his role in helping cover up your captor’s tracks, along with virtually erasing your entire existence.

But no, Sam wouldn’t help you. He couldn’t.

Not after he’d seen for himself just how your very presence had calmed the wounded veteran that he now called a friend.

He’d made it clear that you were here to stay. For good.

And what’s worse? Steve Rogers, Captain America, the leader of the Avengers, had signed off on all of it. Together, the three of them had vowed to never speak of the incident again. You belonged to the Winter Soldier now, to use as he wished.

And he would never let you go.

“Where do you go?” Your keeper rasps as his soft, warm lips glide their way up the column of your throat. “Where do you go when you leave me?”

“Home.” You grit out, which earns you a dark chuckle. "I go home."

A whimper escapes you when he finally gives in and moves his hips just a fraction. Just enough to send sparks of pleasure shooting through you. Bucky smiles against your skin as he feels your walls contract around him. Your weeping pussy threatening to make an even bigger mess on his thickly muscled thighs.

And you hate yourself for it.

“Your place is here, with me.” Bucky thrusts again, enjoying the sound of your soft, sweet cries. He loves watching the way your traitorous body betrays you. He lives for how pliable and willing you become when he takes you into his arms night after night. “I’m your home now.”

A quiet groan rumbles past his throat as your greedy core milks him, seemingly of its own volition. “There we go, moya khoroshaya devochka. My good girl.”

You shouldn’t fucking want this.

You bite down hard on your lip, determined not to let him see you cry. But it’s all quickly becoming too much.

“You taste so good.” Bucky laps at a stray tear that makes its way down your cheek. “Your submission, your acceptance. You were meant for me.” He grunts as he slowly increases his pace. “You feel how your body welcomes mine?” His cool metal fingers dip between your soaked folds, reveling in your wetness.

“No!” You hiss as you go limp, your head falling back to rest itself on his powerful shoulder. “I don-don’t want this!”

“You’re lying.” He growls, his mouth hovering just above your ear. “Even now your body betrays you. Look.” Bucky holds up two glistening digits. “I said look!” He commands again, his tone sharp.

“Mmphm!” You whine as he thrusts them into your mouth, nearly choking you. Meanwhile, his hips continue to piston in and out of you with ever growing force. So much so that you’re now bouncing on his lap.

The intimate sounds of your flesh colliding create a beautifully vulgar melody, filling the empty hall.

“That’s right, milaya devushka. Sweet girl.” His sharp teeth nip at your jaw as he masterfully owns your body. “Take me. Use me.”

He was giving you permission. Permission to use him the way he so often used you. For pleasure. For warmth. For comfort.

“Ah, fuck!” You mewl around him as you finally allow your primal self to take control. Driven by an indescribable need, you begin to move with him, your hips bucking and writhing as you give him what he wants.

One day, you knew, he would succeed in taking everything from you. He’d already managed to strip you of your free will and self-respect. What more was left?

“Yes! That’s it.” Bucky rasps, his voice deep and rough as your greedy cunt continues to work him up and down. “Fucking perfect.” He finally removes his fingers from your mouth so that he can wrap his vibranium arm around your waist. He lifts you then so that he can bend you over the table. His pulsating cock momentarily slips from your heat, the brief loss of contact leaving you feeling cold and bereft.

You ached for him. And you positively despised yourself for it.

A high-pitched cry, yours, fills the air as he viciously shoves into you once more. “Oh, God! Bucky!” You rise on your toes as he bottoms out inside of you, his impressive member stretching your sensitive tissues as he finds a brutal, unrelenting rhythm. He was almost always like this when he fucked you. Claimed you.

You knew you would continue to feel him long after he was through.

Bucky lets out a roar as continues making use of your body, the heavy weight of his balls slapping against your poor, overworked pussy. His grip on your hips tightens, his fingers digging into your soft flesh, ensuring you would be left with bruises tomorrow.

His version of a brand.

Your desperate hands claw at the wood beneath you as the pleasure continues to build, the sheer power of it threatening to consume you. Because, although you were loath to admit it, you were beginning to crave his touch.

Deep down, there was a part of you that desired his dominion over you. You fought it, yes. And you would continue to fight. But one day soon, you knew. You just knew.

That this man, James “Bucky Barnes, would soon become the keeper of your very soul.

And there wasn’t a fucking thing you could do about it.

Sam watches his friend and teammate fuck you mercilessly from his place located just outside the door.

“This is wrong, Steve.” He whispers, unable to look away as Bucky tears at your blouse, exposing your breasts. “We should stop this, stop him.”

“You know it’s too late for that.” The other man replies, stroking a hand over his bearded jaw.

“It’s not.” The former military man growls back. “We can find another way to help him. We can -”

“We tried it your way, Sam. It didn’t work.” Steve responds, clapping his friend on the shoulder. “For whatever reason, she keeps him sane.”

“Steve.” He tries one more time, closing his eyes as the sound of your frenzied cries grow louder, echoing throughout the compound. “Please.”

“She stays. That’s an order, soldier.” He’d do anything for his best friend. Even if it meant damning his soul in the process.

Shaking his head, Steve turns on his booted heel and strides away. Only pausing to adjust his aching dick once he’s convinced he’s out of sight.

And maybe, just maybe, if you somehow managed to save Bucky…

Then perhaps you just might be his Savior too.

END

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creamecafe · 1 year

Note

LOOK THERE’S SMTH IN HOBIE CALLING Y/N “LOVE” AND MIGUEL CALLING Y/N MOSTLY “CARIÑO” BC THIS IS KINDA LIKE THAT TROPE IN BUCKY FANFICS WHERE FANFIC WRITERS COLLECTIVELY MAKE HIM CALL Y/N “DOLL” 🫠

ITS SO CANON. I WANNA SAY A HEADCANON BUT TO ME IT JUST FEELS CANON

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not-a-robot-i-swear-really · 1 year

Text

Waiting for the Right Time

Bucky Barnes x GN!Black!Reader

Summary: Imagine that Bucky Barnes has a huge little crush on you. Now imagine that he’s not the only one who thinks that way.

Word Count: About 1150 words

Chapter Warnings: None, just Bucky getting jealous and slightly possessive, mostly fluff. Reader attracts attention from all across the gender spectrum, and is stated to have powers. No Y/N, we don’t do that here. Ambiguous ending ahead!

Bucky’s got a problem, and for once it has nothing to do with his past.

It’s you and the way the sunlight bounces off your brown skin to make it shine. It’s you and the way your smile makes his heart do backflips. It’s you and the way your deep brown eyes look at him with nothing but admiration and care.

Bucky loves you, and he is not ready to do anything about it.

He knows, logically, that you wouldn’t do anything to hurt him if he were to confess. You damn near killed yourself trying to save him during a mission in Beirut, when a mercenary lobbed a bomb his way. You plucked it from the air and flew off with it, wrapping yourself in a blue shield just as it went off – you got a nasty scar, and it make his chest hurt every time he thinks about it. You smile to reassure him when he stares and tell him that it gives you a cool story to tell at family reunions. Worst case scenario, you would let him down gently and ask to remain friends. Even still, the worst-case scenario was apocalyptic to Bucky.

If he were going to confess, he needed to be absolutely sure that you would love him back. That was how things were, and that’s how it was going to stay until Bucky finally found the right time to confess.

Too bad the rest of the world didn’t get the memo to play along with his pining.

You got flowers the morning of June 26; Bucky remembered the exact day because his world came to a screeching halt when he read the note attached to them.

“Roses are red, violets are blue,

Know what’s on the menu? Me ‘n’ U~<3

From, Your Secret Admirer”

Bucky should’ve thrown the flowers away as soon as he saw them, should have stomped on them, thrown them in an incinerator, anything to make sure you didn’t see them. People sent you flowers all the time, and you never cared what anyone did to them – you like to joke that you had the opposite of a green thumb.

But he didn’t. He froze, and you came trudging out of your bedroom, rubbing the sleep from your eyes, wondering why Bucky spent so long outside your door without knocking.

“Aww, corny but sweet,” you cooed sleepily when you read the note. Bucky’s heart squeezed when you said that, and not in a good way. “Any chance these are from you?”

“No. No, they’re not.” Bucky grits out. If he sent you flowers with a note, he would be pouring his heart and soul into the card, not leaving a shitty pickup line.

“Wonder who it is then,” you yawned as you breezed by him.

Bucky spent the day tracking down the secret admirer. It was a random SHIELD agent, lower in the hierarchy, and too cocky for his own good. It only took a single visit from the former Winter Solider to get the agent to back off. Unfortunately, that agent wasn’t the last to pursue you.

When you went for your morning runs, a woman would join you every morning at exactly the halfway mark. She asked you if you wanted to go to the botanical gardens with her; Bucky showed up and pretended that there was a mission at the same time that would have happened. Thank god there actually was a mission to back him up.

When you thwarted a bioterrorist’s attempts to clear out the “undesirables,” you rescued a civilian from falling rubble with a well-timed shield. They offered to make lunch or dinner to repay you for saving them; Bucky waited till your back was turned to tell them that the Avengers didn’t accept food from strangers. Standard procedure and all that. There technically was no such procedure, but it was just common sense not to eat anything made by a stranger, right.

When Tony threw another one of his notorious parties, you were approached by a random well-to-do bachelor. He fancied himself an art aficionado and invited you to a personal showing of a rare Basquiat painting. When you left to get more champagne, Bucky got Sam to distract the man before you could give him an answer. Sam was sworn to secrecy, of course, Bucky would rather you didn’t see this side of him.

“How long are you gonna keep this up, man?” Sam groaned when he came back to the table.

“Keep what up?” Bucky kept his eyes trained on you, your enchanting laugh reaching his ears even through all the blaring music and cacophony of voices.

"This!” Sam gestured at you and Bucky. “It would just be easier to confess at this point. You can’t scare off everyone that goes near them forever.”

He gave Sam a deadpan glare. “I can and I will.”

“You would have to keep an eye on them all the time, you’d basically be stalking them at that point.”

“Actually, that’s not such a bad idea.”

“Wait-“

“There’s cafe across the street from their apartment, could probably stake out there.”

“Bucky-“

“You think I could get those little spy cameras from Tony’s lab without him noticing?”

“No! You need to say something to them before someone else asks them out and they say yes.”

“’S not the right time.”

“Man, someone else is gonna snatch them up while you’re busy waiting for the right time!” Bucky left before Sam could finish talking; another woman had sidled up your table.

As much as he hated to say it Sam was right.

Bucky hated this; the constant vigilance of chasing away would-be suitors, the way his heart squeezed every time he saw you smile at someone that wasn’t him, the fear that you would pick someone else before he could show you how much he loved you.

So on a cold November 12th, Bucky woke up earlier than everyone else in the tower to finally enact his plan. He went to the only shop open in Brooklyn for a fruit bouquet – filled with all the fruit he knew you liked and drizzled with chocolate. He dressed in the outfit Steve had helped him with – something casual, but made to impress. He put on your favorite playlist – Etta James, and Al Green, and Aretha Franklin.

With everything in place and his nerves at an all-time high, Bucky took a deep breath and knocked on your door.

A/N: Little something I thought up that I had to get out before I forgot or something, hope y'all enjoy! It was inspired by another post that I haven't been able to find, but it takes place in the 40s right before Bucky is shipped out to the warfront. If anyone can find it please let me know!

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#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x black!reader #bucky barnes x black reader #bucky barnes one shot #bucky barnes #bucky barnes x gn!reader #oneshot #bucky barnes x poc!reader #bucky barnes x poc reader #bucky barnes fluff #my writing #black!reader #black reader #poc!reader #poc reader #black writers #poc writer

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plussizeappreciationfics · 2 years

Note

request for plus size (NB?) reader x bucky:

reader is confident in their appearance, but while they're out and about with bucky someone comments on their weight. reader has a great comeback ready but bucky beats them to the punch (literally or figuratively XD)

and maybe afterwards bucky is like 'you ok hon' and gives them a kiss.

or whatever! sorry if this is too detailed!

Enjoy!❤️

The day had started well with some morning snuggles, a good breakfast and overall just a good vibe. you and Bucky had a few days off and had craved some fresh air. The weather was nice for late autumn, not too cold or windy and the sun also had a few appearances.

The two of you quickly built up an appetite and were very grateful that a crèpes stand was near your bench in the park. There was a couple already standing at the stand but they were snapping at each other, causing a minor scene. They kept rolling their eyes at one another, cussing and hissing and then dramatically turning away from one another, blocking the general line to the delicious french snack.

When you and Bucky approached the couple and politely asked them to let you cut the line, they rolled their eyes but still moved aside. “It’s on me, my love” your boyfriend grinned while taking out his wallet and ordering two crèpes with powdered sugar and some Nutella on top. “Of course” the seller answered with a bright smile before cooking up your snack, already having given Bucky the right change back but him being nice enough to let the man keep the change to support his small business. It wasn't until you had gotten your crèpe and were enjoying its sweet deliciousness a few steps away from the stand that the woman scoffed at you and loudly mumbled " Lose some weight, Piggy".

That sentence made you stop chewing before quickly swallowing your bite and approaching the rude ass couple.

"What did you say?". Bucky let out a silent sigh as he knew that you were perfectly able to defend yourself, but still felt sorry for you that you had been thrown into an uncomfortable situation.

"Lose some weight. It's so disgusting that you’re slobbing the food away. You lack some serious discipline."

You had to admit that you were taken by surprise by the random attack. You were plus sized, so what? You knew that your weight was not what defined you as a person. It only added to your worth as a human being. It was sometimes difficult to stay confident because society had always shamed and abused people like you, your community. Today was another example.

The woman gave you a mean smirk, her partner standing right behind you with a blank face. Bucky was waiting for his reaction and stayed put until it would happen. “Why are you being so mean?” you questioned the woman who let out another scoff, “Because just looking at you made me lose my appetite”.

The moment she said that, her partner started to look at you from head to toe, but not in a disgusted way. His eyes focused on your wide hips before they were stuck on your thick thighs that were covered by your tight jeans. Bucky recognized that look and felt a rush of disgust take over him.

“Babe, look at-Why are you looking at her like that?!” the woman gasped in shock once having turned to her partner, thinking that he’d help her fat shame you but only was met by the desired look resting on his face. “Are you seriously checking that fat bitch out?!”.

“Enough! I don’t need to lose weight, what you need to lose is that disgusting character” you hissed back, glaring daggers at the stranger woman. All she did was show you the middle finger while glaring at her partner, his embarrassed eyes avoiding everyone but the ground.

“The next time you want to fat shame someone, make sure that you check your partner. He might want to fuck one of us and not someone with a shitty ass personality as you”. You added before turning around and taking Bucky’s hand, feeling better because the shocked gasp that rang in your ears confirmed that you had hit a weak spot.

“Don’t you ever say that again, you fat bitch” the man now all of a sudden mumbled.

Before you could even fully turn around and react to the new insult, Bucky had jumped in two steps over to the guy and his metal hand already had collabed with his cheek. The guy fell backwards with a pained scream and his partner just stood there, shocked to the bone. “What the fuck is wrong with you?!” she screamed on top of her lungs but the small crowd that had gathered showed no sympathy. They simply stepped away so that they wouldn’t be in Bucky’s way when he delivered the soul crushing punch.

“If I hear another word from the two of you, it’s gonna get really ugly” you threatened, glaring at the woman who was now clenching her jaw, keeping her silence. Bucky quickly got back to his feet and glared at the guy who was moaning in pain and rolling around on the ground, not even acknowledging his partner as he made his way back to you and apologizing to the small crowd for his “sudden violence”.

“That’s fine, bro”.

“Oh no, you did us all a huge favor”.

“They honestly deserve more, but one punch from the Winter Soldier sure looks very painful. So, we’re good”.

Those were the responses the two of you received before walking away and waiting until you had reached a quiet spot in the park to catch your breath from the fucked up encounter.

“You didn’t have to punch him” you mumbled when Bucky held you close, his strong arms holding you tight and making you feel safe and loved.

“I know, but he really needed that reality check. No one can just treat my love like this. You’re breathtaking [Y/N]”, your lover whispered before taking your face in his hands and gently caressing your cheeks, his eyes filled with pure love and admiration for you.

“I love you” was all you were able to answer as pride, joy and love warmed your whole chest. This man would do anything for you and respected and worshipped the ground you walked upon. With all of your imperfections included. That’s what real love is about.

Tag list: @jamesbarnesappreciationclubub l @pleasantdreamqueen l @disneymarina l l @harleycativy l @sparklemichele l @melaninmarvel l @amethyst09 l @the-force-of-imagines l @bossyboyd03 l @pebblesz892 l @stars8melanin l @brittyevans l @toc1985 l @janeyboo l @badassbaker l @winters-beauty l @cannonindeez l @ilovefanfic86 l @adorablespecialsnowflakes l @brittanyovens l @kanupps06 l @jazmynejack l @thebookwormslytherin l @theunsweetenedtruth l @talannalew l @littlexmissxfandomxlover l @amethyst-dreams-and-candy-canes l @crimsonash330 l @booklover2929 l @aranelgrey l @panda-duuu l @thisismysecrethappyplace l @titty-teetee l @honey-anon l @princess-evans-addict l @hp-hogwartsexpress l @malindacath l @letsdisneythings l @scorpionchild81 l @shado-raven l @alisoncdariel l @plutoneu l @queenoftheworldisdead l @briannab1234l @miyaeadys-blog l @thenamelesscorpse2185 l @hihellogoodbyebruh l @nackrosor l @nerdgurl1985 l @2darkskinbeauty l @bugngiz l @african-melanin-goddess l @barnes-wilson-love l @ktiz90 l @let-the-love-in l @forlornfortitude l @robinredboob l @hopefuloperaangelnerd l @kola95 l @partypoison00 l @alwaysadreamingoptimist l @reniescarlett l @g0thicdream l @mayasopinions l @captaintightpants58 l @leillee

-Emmanuelle 💋❤️

#bucky barnes x poc!reader #plus size reader #bucky barnes dirty imagines #bucky barnes #bucky barnes x plus size reader #bucky x reader #bucky barnes x reader

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deexchanel · 2 years

Text

Blind : Part 2

Word Count:

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x BlackFem!OC

Warning: Swearing, Arguments, Angst Then mentioning of drugs & Fluff.

-Read Blind first-

Summary: Roles has reverse on the best friends, monday morning he starts on trying to get Elara back but someone has caught her eye.

A/N: I hope this is as interesting as the last one. @demonic-black-queen just for you luv😘🫶🏾

Corell & Kaylee

Corell’s alarm woke up her up exactly at 6:30 a.m. She made her way into her personal bathroom to began on her hygiene. Her phone buzzed while she was putting on deodorant. It was her boyfriend calling.

“Good Morning Beautiful.” Her boyfriend smiled into the camera. A smile grew onto her face as she propped the phone up. “ Good Morning baby.”

He sat the phone down, turning the steering wheel. “Were you able to talk to Elara about her behavior?”

Corell pulled her hair into a ponytail, “No, but I was going to say something about it this morning. Where you able to pay off your car note before going to work?”

“Yeah but it made me 10 minutes late. This was supposed be a quick phone call to see if you’ve gotten up.”

“Okay baby. I love you baby and talk to you on your break.”

“I love you too ma.”

Corell flipped the switch to the bathroom and made way to her baby sister room. “El. Time to get up love bug.”

The covers shifted and moved from on top of her head. Rubbing the sleep out her eyes, Elara grumbled, “Good Morning.” Corell chuckled, “We need to have a talk though.”

Elara sat up, giving her older sister the required attention. “What do we need to talk about?”

“I just want you to be good at school. I know I’m just your sister and not mom but just give me a little break on getting trouble at school. Don’t get suspended again okay?” Corell sat on the bed beside El. She gave her a hug, “I love you sis!”

Elara nodded her head hugging back, “I love you too sis! I won’t get suspended again.”

————————

Bucky waited by his car for Elara’s to pull in. Yesterday the conversation between him and Rydee went in the direction of Elara’s truthfulness. He should’ve believe his best friend but he didn’t and now he regrets it.

Elara’s Honda accord pulled into the parking lot with her speakers blasting. Her sister gifted her car after passing her driver’s test. Today she looked beautiful as ever getting out the car . She always look great but today she caught his attention way more.

Those shorts looked so good on her body, he couldn’t take his eyes off her. Damn, why is he feeling this now? Maybe he now notices her because he can’t get near her. Her lips looked soft as she talked to Kaylee, her skin glowed with the sun. Them legs, whew, he knew she was going to get dressed coded. She is a fine piece art that he didn’t want no one to have.

To admit to himself, he was falling for his now ex-best friend. He definitely had to get her back. Bucky opened his book bag on the hood of his car, seeing if he had a pair of shorts. He did. James walked past the girls to head to the football field and he tossed her a pair of shorts.

Elara caught the tossed folded shorts in confusion, “What is this? I should throw it somewhere else.” She opened them to see that it was shorts.

“Girl he doing you a favor, you know they going to dress code that ass after these photos.” Kaylee swiped her finger to find the right filter and when she did, she held the phone out and they posed.

He backed off for now, trying to find his best mates. “Man I messed up with Elara guys.” Bucky sigh as he sat down at the cafeteria table. Loki peeped up from his book.

“Steve tried to stop your argument yesterday but you guys just kept going.”

“I know she just made so mad at first cause I didn’t believe her. I talked to Rydee and she spilled to me that all of it was true. I regretted everything and I’m so mad at myself for doing Elara like that.” Bucky ran his hand through his long brown hair. He looked around the cafeteria, in hopes of finding Elara. She’s been on his mind all morning.

“Women are emotional beings. The argument from yesterday really cut deep for her. You have to give her time Buck, that’s all.” Steve shrugged his shoulders, then took a sip of his juice. Bucky skimmed through the cafeteria once again, noticing that Elara’s bookbag took an empty spot by Kaylee. He raised an eyebrow, getting up from the seat.

“James where you going?” Tony asked as Bucky grabbed his phone. The question was ignored as Bucky left the cafeteria with a little scurry. Once making it in the halls, he turned the corner to see Elara talking to this guy.

Jealousy kicked in on Bucky and he stood there debating on if he wanted to step in. She had on her outfit from earlier which means she either took em off or never wore them. The guy had grabbed Elara’s waist pulling her closer and that was Bucky’s last straw.

Anger flowed through his veins. Without thinking, Bucky made way over to Elara. His arm snakes around her shoulder, pulling her closer to him. “Sorry for the interpretation she gave you but she’s mine,”

“My bad Bucky. Bye Elara.” The guy straight faced Bucky but gave El a smile then left them standing there. Elara tried to take deep breaths but it wasn’t working.

“Bucky what the fuck are you doing?!”

“You don’t need to be talking to him Elara.“

Elara waved him off, “You made it very clear to me yesterday that you chose her. So the best thing you can do is leave it at that.”

“Then you out here with these shorts on like come on. I gave you pair to wear, where are they?”James furrowed his eyebrows.

“I’m not listening to you talk to me about that. I don’t care!”

He can’t focus when she look this good. Bucky pulled her closer to him, “Elara I’m sorry. I really am.” Elara snatched away from him.

“No! No you can’t do this apologizing shit. You hurt me yesterday all because I chose to take up for you. I am your best friend and you still took her side!” Elara raised her voice, tears fell down her cheeks. “Bucky I don’t want nothing to do with you right now!”

“I can’t argue with you El, I have a soft spot for you. I’m putting everything aside for you. I’m genuinely sorry,” Bucky wiped her tears away, looking into her chocolate eyes. He hated seeing Elara this way, he could tell that really hurt her feelings and thats why he's willing to apologize instead of argue.

Elara didn’t give in as much as she wanted too. “ No, Bucky.” She moved his hand away, trying to farther distance between them. Their eye contact never broke. He wrapped his arm around her waist again and backed onto the wall, his arm hovered above as he leaned down placing his lips onto hers.

Just a simple kiss but it meant everything to them.

——————-

Bucky and Elara sat on the front porch waiting on Kaylee to pull up. He insisted on doing whatever she was doing today so they can spend more time together.

“Is this going to hurt?” Bucky sat beside Elara eyeing the pack. Having his best friend back had him feeling complete. Now a part of him wonder where they stand now that they’ve kissed. They haven’t talked about it but it haven’t been any weird vibes either.

“No Bucky.” She laughed taking out her pre roll that Kaylee took her personal time on. “Well the cough might be a bit much.”

Bucky nodded looking a little uneasy at the blunt.

two minutes later

Kaylee pulled up in her brother’s car for the session. Nothing like a good ole hotbox that’ll get you right.“Oouh Bucky you finna be highh.” Kaylee laughed as he got in the back and Elara got in the front.

“Bestieee!”

“Bestie!”

“You guys were just on the phone a second ago.” Bucky complained from the backseat. Both girls shrugged their shoulders laughing.

Kaylee sparked the blunt.

————

Elara turned around to see Bucky eyes red as hell. “Bucky you good?” Her blinking felt so slow.

He started smiling, not taking his eyes off her. “Yeah.” Without her noticing, he’s been watching her majority of the time and everything she did, El looked so beautiful to him.

El laughed so hard, he looked so stupid right now. His long hair was sticking to his face a bit, his cheeks were red with sweat on them, his arms glistening in sweat from the heat of the hot box since he had on a black wife beater.

(Can you imagine that? im high asf fantasizing about this shit)

(my ideal bucky with a wife beater and sweaty. i love civil war bucky cause he soo beefy like how i like it😩. it turns me onn)

He looked so fine, like El couldn’t stop staring at him fine. Kaylee had interrupted her fantasy by talking shit to Bucky. “Damn Bucky why you smiling so hard at my girl.” she looked into the rear view mirror.

“Cause she’s beautiful.” Bucky winked at her which made Elara weak in the knees. He don’t know what he does to her. Their eye contact never broke, now making El want to sit back there with him and slam her lips onto his. She passed the blunt to him, fighting the urge to fuck this man.

“How long have you been doing this Elara and where the hell have I been?” Bucky asked then took a hit. Elara just stared at his chest.

my god.

“El, bitch he asked you a question.” Kaylee nudged her back into life.

“Oh shit I don’t like onions in my food.” Elara rub the back of her neck.

“girl what the fuck is you talking about?” Kaylee laughed, nudging El then she started laughing "Girl I was thinking about something to eat." Bucky joined in to until everyone was coughing, it was time to get out.

The three of went to Kaylee’s house after the smoke session. Kaylee lead straight to the kitchen, her mother had made a nice dinner. "You know you don't need two drinks Bucky." Elara giggled as she tried to dodge his kisses. They were sitting on the couch while the food heated up. “You don’t know what I need El.” He laid on top of her, just being annoying.

"Give me a kiss!"

"Ah!"

They rolled onto the floor with her now laying on top of him. They were in a laughing fit.

Elara filled in the gap between them, as Bucky hands flew to her waist. He could never get tired of kissing her. "Mhm." He adjusted her on top of him, letting his friend grow which she most definintely felt.

"Bucky!" Elara giggled pulling away from him. She was turned on but was not ready. "I'm going to go check on the food."

He licked his lips nodding, loving the view as she got up and walked away. Bucky laid there for a second until he heard buzzing. It wasn't his business until he heard it buzz again. Peeking up slowly, He noticed Elara's phone sitting on the couch, lit as another notification flashed on the screen.

It burned his insides to check but Bucky was quick to give in. Seeing that they were IMessages, he typed in her password, going to them to see that it was from that guy in the hallway.

Tre

Are you still coming to see me tonight?

Tre

You act like you can't text back so text me later.

"What the fuck?" Bucky mumbled getting pissed off the second he read the messages, not knowing that Elara was making her way back to him. "Bucky the food is- Why are you going through my phone??" Seeing his hard expression, she knew he had saw the messages between her and Tre.

Bucky stood up, holding a tight grip on her phone.

Their eye contact never broke.

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

Whewww not Bucky feelin that same jealous El felt.

anyway.

Stay Slutty My Friends <3

#bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky fanfic #bucky barnes #bucky barnes x oc #bucky barnes x original female character #bucky barnes x poc!reader #bucky barnes x black!reader #bucky barnes x black oc #bucky barnes x female reader

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captainsimagines · 2 years

Text

hunting the fates || three

Summary: When the repercussions of giving up your Immortality come back to haunt you, a journey to Hell seems to be the only solution. With the help of your friends, both old and new, you set out on a journey to destroy the three Fates who have messed with your life long enough. There you discover that your power extends further than you ever thought possible, as does the Winter Soldier’s.

Pairing(s): Bucky Barnes x (Fem) POC Enhanced Reader; Sam Wilson x Female Original Character

Trope(s): Fantasy/Mythology/Horror; Soulmates/Mates; Angst/Fluff/Smut; Bisexual! Bucky Barnes; Multiple POV’s

Based on the Song(s): ‘Power’ by Isak Danielson ; ‘Breakfast’ by Dove Cameron ; ‘Darkside’ by Neoni ; ‘Bow - Slowed’ by Reyn Hartley

AO3 Link

Warnings: strong language; mention of infertility; sword fighting; canon-level violence; Spider-Man: No Way Home spoilers; magic; inaccurate Greek Mythology

Word Count: 8,500+

Author’s Note: No, Hades is not trying to steal the Reader away from Bucky. He’s just a flirty sonovabitch. But wink-wink anyways. Sorry for the late update, I just started graduate school. xxMoni

Elva Bloodwing had two goals for the end of this week: One, to make sure her new trainees knew how to handle a sword. Two, to wring in her prejudices about humans.

Yet, this might be the most insane, disruptive, and weird group of humans she’s ever agreed to train. So goal number two was looking pretty bleak.

The Birdling had been first to arrive, wiping the sleep from his eyelids as he entered the room. He had greeted her with a kind smile, honorably gap-toothed and scarily genuine. Elva had not returned it, no matter the odd night before. He had immediately scoped out the weapons hanging from the black marble walls, marveling at the sharpest of them. She told him to start with the wooden swords that were stored in the kid’s section—she had told him to pick up a shield as well. The Birdling followed her orders, seemingly happy to do so, and commented something about holding a shield for the first time and not needing to throw it.

She did not laugh.

This was a training session—not a meeting to make friends. They were going to kill some sleazy, old bitches together. That was that.

The gorgeous one, as Wenrel liked to call him, arrived second. He also looked sleepy, his long hair up in a messy bun but with strands still dangling down his cheeks. He had greeted the Birdling and teased about the wooden sword. His mouth instantly shut when he reached for the steel, the sudden weight smashing the tip to the floor, ringing loudly. He apologized, and Elva simply pointed at the wooden weapons again.

It was the gorgeous soldier who showed grace with the footwork before the third human passed through the door. A sophisticated dance, born to hold a sword in his palm—or a weapon in general. Elva watched the soldier glide through his own routine, like a figure skater on ice, and the Birdling copied.

That was the moment Elva had dumbly believed this session would run smoothly. The Birdling absorbed information easily, the soldier had a background in combat training, and they seemed to work very well together—

The Goddess walked through the door, and the soldier’s attention was immediately split. Suddenly, his footwork halted. All thoughts of warming-up simply sliding from his brain. The Goddess stretched, unbothered, and the soldier ogled. The Birdling ignored—or at least, he pretended not to notice.

Funny, Elva thought. Her and the Birdling have that in common.

“That’s enough warm-ups,” Elva spoke, her voice mighty as it carried through the training facility. She was dressed in her leathers, albeit these were a navy blue and not her usual black. They allowed for great flexibility and were water resistant. On the outside. Very helpful if she fell into water—not very effective when sweating like a pig.

“I will walk you through the simple techniques of holding our weapons. Then show you how to cross blades, and avoid them.”

“Are guns not common in Hell?” the gorgeous soldier asked.

She tilted her head at him. “If your war weapons do not injure a space alien, do you think they would hurt an Immortal being?”

He blushed, the pink of his cheeks spreading to the collar of his neck. He and the others were dressed in the clothes provided: training sweatpants and loose tanks. All black.

“Fight me,” Elva continued, backing away several steps as she braced her hands in front of herself. The soldier’s eyes widened, before he stepped forward too.

“Are we holding back or are we serious?”

Elva grinned, teeth and all. “Serious as Pandora’s curiosity.”

She threw the first punch, excited when he easily dodged it. His smile was a beautiful one, one that had the ability to brighten the darkest depths of Poseidon’s seas. A guiding light.

She wanted to punch it good and well, because such beautiful things should not exist in Hell.

She and the soldier danced, tripped, twirled, and drew blood for a full five minutes. Neither of them backed down, neither of them seriously hurt. The soldier still retained his god-like abilities in this realm. It was a part of his blood after all. But she could have sworn his sweat was unlike the others. Where it should have remained, it vanished. And where it stained his shirt, it did not dry.

“Take him down!” the Birdling cried from the sidelines, hanging off the Goddess’s shoulder. The Goddess simply held him up, like this was a regular occurrence, smiling all the same. Who would support their significant other being “taken down”? Was this a joke to her? Or was she so dense—

The soldier knocked one straight and center into her nose, cutting off her air supply for a strange second. Her eyes flashed with anger before the heat quelled. The blood halted, only reaching her top lip, before she rolled her neck and concentrated. Concentrated hard as the blood rose back into her nostrils, a slow crawl, and reentered her system.

“Thought you said you couldn’t wield your powers for seven hundred years?” the Birdling said, crossing his arms as he stared her down. She rubbed at her nose absentmindedly, then looked to the soldier, who was too distracted by his momentary win and the Goddess fucking blinking to notice her arm reach forward.

She twisted him underneath her arm, locking him tight. Twisting herself, Elva bent her knees and clenched her stomach, then hauled the soldier over her shoulders and onto the mat. He made a horrible splattering sound, groaning in pain when he moved his first muscle.

Elva placed her hands on her hips, looking over at the Birdling with a satisfied expression. “I cannot wield my true power. But I can still control my own blood.”

The soldier looked up at her, his hair now pulled from the hair tie, his stare hard. Not in a mean way, not even in threatening promise. He simply stared into her red eyes as a small crease between his eyebrows began to take form.

Later, after they’ve worked through some footwork and defense maneuvers, Elva judged them individually. She had to give the Goddess some credit—her past training must have included some form of meditation technique or patience. Like an archer readying their bow. Swift and ancient.

Perhaps a bow and arrow would better suit her.

Elva stepped behind the Birdling, counting his steps, studying his roundabouts and the shapes his pointed toes made. He kept missing the sixth and fumbling the eighth.

“Birdling, no,” she grunted, taking his shield from him. He was more than happy to be ridden of the wooden atrocity. “Don’t worry about this damned thing. It was for stability and familiarity. But that won’t matter if you cannot walk.”

“I’m doing the footwork I learned in the Air Force, when boxing. You’re telling me I’ve been doing it wrong all these years?”

Elva shook her head. “Not wrong. You are just doing another dance that does not require you to hold a sword. You must change that dance."

The Birdling huffed, stretching out his neck. “Then I am your loyal student. Teach me. Please.”

“I have been teaching you. You have not been listening apparently.”

The left side of his mouth twitched, then spread into a full-blown smile. Elva tried to push down the odd feeling of melting warmth inside her abdomen, frightened in herself that she could even feel such a reaction. Was her blood acting up? Did Hades need to make her that tea again?

The two others in the room had stopped running through Elva’s routine. They were straining their ears, so obviously, two peas in a pod. Did the Birdling not receive privacy from them?

No more questions. She had a job to do.

Elva ran them all through the steps again, but added words and rhythm. She had always been a more hands-on learner, but she worked well with visuals too. But it seemed not all people learned the same way. Everybody had their strengths. She incorporated some auditory steps, let them watch her, and even used the Goddess as a partner when she slow-motioned her way through fake battle.

The Birdling worked well with hearing. He no longer missed the sixth step and would have to work on balancing his own weight with a sword in the future. The whole session was two hours and Elva only let them stop because the soldier’s stomach had roared so loudly the Goddess almost burst a lung from laughing so hard.

In the kitchens, Elva ignored the servants as she walked through and began rearranging her plate. She sees them everyday, they know her and she knows them, and introductions weren’t necessary. That didn’t stop the Goddess and the Birdling from greeting every soul they passed.

That’s it. She related more to the soldier. At least he had the good sense to keep his hands to himself and just nod.

As if reading her mind, the soldier strolled up alongside her and grabbed a plate for himself. They moved down the counter together, holding their plates out as they were loaded with eggs, sausages, and strawberry tarts. He didn’t speak until his coffee cup was filled and placed carefully on the table Elva decided to sit down at.

“So, the Fates…What are they hiding up their sleeves? Should we be prepared for iron nails or eyeballs that shoot lasers?”

Elva squinted at the soldier, frowning when he took a seat directly in front of her. “What odd things you say.”

The soldier blushed—even redder than this morning—and shrugged a broad shoulder. “You might live with demons and Gods, but I’ve seen my fair share of aliens and Nazis.”

Elva scrunched her nose. “I hate Nazis.”

“Oh, that’s good, I was worried there for a second.”

Her red eyes snapped up, holding his stare. “Your sarcasm is not your best trait.”

The soldier waved a hand while bringing his coffee to his lips with the other. “My best trait is inappropriate to say.”

“Neither is your humor, I see.”

His shoulders slumped. Sheepishly, and with a little bit of that godsforsaken sarcasm, he said, “Mm, I see. I’ll try harder, I promise.”

Elva moved the food around on her plate, taking small bites whenever she felt like it. She glanced up to see the soldier scanning the room, his mind alert. She followed his gaze and saw the Goddess sitting with the Birdling, chatting with a couple of servants and making them laugh. Like the mere fact he had his eyes on her quelled whatever worry his chest was most likely pounding with.

“Do you want to know what Hades did and still does to Nazis?”

The soldier’s gaze instantly snapped to her face. He didn’t speak, but there was something in his eyes that told her she should continue. “Hades is a kind God. He shows a lot of mercy. He did not create this place or the three levels. He is not the first and he is not the last. But he was Hades during your World War.”

The soldier wrapped both his hands, flesh and metal, around his mug. Elva continued, “He brought them in as a group and told them they had two choices. One, to venture to Tartarus and burn for all eternity. Or two, to say they were sorry.”

“What? How could he just forgive—”

“Every single one of them said they were sorry. And Hades told them that words were not currency. That they were cowards for what they did and for not admitting to it after death. He stripped them of their name, of their memories except for the atrocities they did. Stripped them of their prejudices, of their hatred, of everything that once made them human. He made them burn in Hell with only the memories of what had been done. Not the why, just the horror.”

The soldier swallowed his coffee a bit too loudly, but he urged her to finish. So she did, smiling a little as she neared her favorite part. “They cannot sleep or eat or bathe. They do not know love or calm or reason. All they know is blood and death. It is making them go mad. The greatest torture is to rip out someone's heart. That’s where your humanity lies, no? You can argue and say these villains had no heart at all, but they did. It beat and it bled and they still went against its purpose.”

She thinks he’s going to ask her a million more questions, but he simply nods and stands. She doesn’t know if she’s angered him or answered his original question. Still, Elva can’t help but feel the slightest bit guilty, shameful that she ruined his breakfast.

But he smirked at her, grabbing the last strawberry tart on his plate to go. “So the presence of a heart doesn’t always guarantee goodness, huh?”

Elva shook her head, and bit into her toast. “The absence of one doesn’t always guarantee evil either.”

He nodded again, as if digesting the words. “Enjoy your breakfast, Elva. Thank you for training this morning.”

Before he could leave her, Elva reached out to grip his wrist. The soldier startled, looking from her to their point of contact. No doubt debating whether to pry her off. She does it for him, and cursed inwardly that she forgot his aversion to touch. “Those villains wanted you to reject your humanity, Bucky. The Fates wanted that. They wanted that of me, too.”

The soldier, Bucky, seemed to realize that she had finally said his name this morning. That their squabble last night, his prejudices against her that seemed to have died in his sleep, did not matter anymore.

They had a common enemy and Bucky Barnes was a person who would fight by his foe’s side if it meant peace and tranquility for those he cared for.

It had only been a day.

One day and you were certain you were going to go mad. There was a difference between being locked up without consent and being trapped with consent. At least when it’s against your will there’s this adrenaline rush that propels you to find a way out faster. When you’re trapped because of your need for revenge, that adrenaline is limited. It sits, and sits, and sits and it will most likely burst when the action occurs.

You feel like you’re about to burst out of your skin, for no reason, but your body is holding you back.

Making small talk with everyone you saw after training was intense—you wanted to be nice, and it came off as fake. Not that anyone noticed. And that made you feel like shit.

The Underworld was a palace full of talkative, energetic souls and visitors that defied most of its legendary attributes. It looked like a thing of legend, but did not compare to the stories of fire and brimstone. There were no souls screaming for help—unless you ventured to Tartarus, which you weren’t ever planning to do—in fact, most souls you’ve encountered have been happy.

Happy.

Was this where Ari’s soul ventured? After he took your immortality, he mentioned wandering with purpose. Direction. Did he get a choice in where he wandered? Was his vision of an afterlife real for him?

Either way, you were tired. Tired from training, tired from faking smiles, tired from pretending this was normal. All you wanted to do was kill the three Fate bitches and get it over with. No training, no backgrounds—just cold-blooded unaliving.

“Elva said you moved like leaves in the wind today.”

“Oh my—!” You stumbled from the bed with your hand clutched to your chest, heart pounding underneath your sweaty palm. You had locked the door, had bid Sam and Bucky farewell for an afternoon nap. You didn’t expect to be woken up from the voice of Hades himself.

He smirked, his flamed blue eyes following your awkward movements. He stood casually—hands locked behind his back, silky attire draped across his broad shoulders, absent of any wrinkles. Dressed like a God. There was no other way to describe it. His aura was of casual elegance.

“What are you doing here?”

“It is my palace.”

“It is my temporary room.”

He chuckled. The rumble of death. “I am simply checking in. I will visit your friends later as well.”

“Why now? Why when I was peaceful?”

He tilted his head, that smirk stretching farther. “Do I unnerve you?”

You huffed, rubbing at your arms. This morning you had been cold—not even Bucky’s usual warmth could heat you up. In fact, it was as if Bucky was making it worse. The cardigan you wore now made you sweat, its cotton fabric suddenly suffocating.

It made sense: To feel such a wave of heat from the God of the Underworld.

“You don’t unnerve me. Women just don’t like being woken up by an unknown man’s voice.”

“We met yesterday.”

“What difference…” Your voice trailed off as you realized he was messing with you. Your nose twitched before you spread your lips into a thin line. “What do you really want?”

Hades pointed over to the vacant chair by the mirror. With more than an ounce of hesitance, you still nodded. Hades strolled to the chair, kicking its leg slightly to turn it toward you. He slumped down, hooked an ankle over a knee, and played with the red-jeweled ring on his ring finger. “Does he know?”

You squinted at him. “Does who know what?”

Hades barely pursed his lips, but the obvious expression of Really? came to life. “Does the Winter Soldier know your heart beats no more? That your immortality stayed in your heart?”

Sitting back down at the edge of the bed, you sighed as loudly as possible. You put your face in your hands. “Is that what it is? Ari took it from my magic and the Fates’ prophecy, but not my heart?”

Hades tapped his thumb and index together, thinking. “Your mate took what he could and was forced to leave it in your heart or else it would have killed you.”

Mate.

Ari was your mate.

Just hearing it confirmed made you want to sob, but nothing formed within your chest. All your grief was currently on pause—logic and reason was necessary nowadays.

“No. I have not told Bucky. Can’t he hear…or rather, not hear anything?”

Hades looked to you, to the floor, then back to you. A quick rise of his eyebrows told you he was hiding something, but that it wasn’t so drastic of a secret that it needed to be told right now. “If he focused hard enough, probably. But no heartbeat doesn’t mean you’re immortal. Doesn’t mean you're dead either. Just means you’re in limbo.”

“In life or in aging?”

Hades snorted. “Look at me, Goddess. No heartbeat, yet I can be killed by my rivals. No heartbeat, yet I yearn for my other half.”

“Your life story isn’t one I aspire to match. But I see we’re more alike after all…” You frowned at him, then moved higher up onto the bed until you were at the center of it.

A question formed at the tip of your tongue, however. A question for a question. “Do you really not know where or who your Persephone is?”

Something resembling a shiver seemed to crawl up his spine, causing him to readjust his position. “I only get glimpses. Persephone and Hades have been mates for thousands of years. My mate is out there somewhere. But for some reason, it has taken forever.”

“And forever is truly endless for an immortal,” you lamented, meeting his eyes with more sympathy now. “What do you see? Have you seen her face?”

Hades shook his head. “Orange. Lots and lots of orange. Fruit, hair, t-shirts. One time I even saw some yellow.”

You couldn’t help but grin, chuckling through your teeth. “Vague.”

“Very.” He stared at you for a few more seconds, his mouth parted around an invisible word. But he simply stood, smoothing his vest. “I only meant to check in. Elva has been collecting reports from the guards. We will find the Fates soon. Then you three will be off to the human lands.”

“Wha—“ You scrambled off the bed, rage building. “You promised to look into my infertility.”

“Yes. I did.” Hades blinked, unmoved. “I am expecting that answer any day now from Maxwell.”

“Don’t fuck me over.”

Hades paused, his stature seemingly growing—small inches mimicking miles. His shoulders loosened, his fingers dangled beautifully, and his breath steadied. Steadied like he had perfected such a mode over his thousand year reign. A God built for darkness and muted evil.

Hades reached a hand forward, gripping your chin. You did not startle, nor did you feel fear. Greenery existed in the Underworld, apparently. You’re sure you could have them smash through the walls and into his chest in a matter of seconds.

He tilted your head up so you were staring directly into his blue eyes. Blue eyes that combined flame and shadow. “I keep my promises, Goddess. I keep them so well that I don’t have to repeat them. They are guaranteed.”

You reached up and gripped his wrist, smiling at him. “That’s good to hear. But if you ever touch me without permission again, I will harvest your damned soul in one of those narcissus flowers your mate loves so much.”

Something flickered across his beautiful face—anger, surprise, respect—it was not identifiable. But he let you go, interlocking his hands behind his back, and bowed slightly at the hips. “My mistake.”

But you couldn’t just let him leave. Not when you still had so many questions. Does Elva need help locating the Fates? Can the guards be trusted? Are there any live souls down here? Where is the entrance? Is this the main afterlife?

“Is Ari here?”

Hades turned again. One eyebrow raised, he asked, “Do you think he’s here?”

“No.”

He hummed lowly. “Then why ask?”

“Because…” Something resembling a whimper formed in your chest, but you pushed it down. Down into your stomach where the acid would burn it. “Because I just had to know.”

He nodded, understanding. “His soul can be accessed. It won’t be him physically, but it is him. The Offering Room…You can visit and pray to him there.”

That was more than enough. The funeral had been six months ago and you were grieving too much to speak your prayers. Maybe now was that time.

“Thank you.”

His lips twitched at the sides. “I still speak to my mother. Besides the gardens, it’s my favorite place.”

The two of you could tell that too much had been shared already. That even if he was a God and you a Goddess, there wasn’t much else to speak about right now. Especially alone—any answers you seeked were answers Sam and Bucky wanted, needed, to have as well.

Hades finally took his leave without so much as a wave goodbye.

Peter Parker wished he paid more attention to you and that weird Eternal because he could really use some summoning expertise right about now. Smacking pans together and dialing long distance numbers just wasn’t working like he thought it would.

It’s been a week. A whole week and his friends have not come home.

All is okay, all is dandy. Peter’s freaking the fuck out on the inside, but he can power through. He’s been through worse.

But rent is due in three days and he doesn’t have Sam’s banking passwords. And he’s broke. So either Peter Parker sits on his ass and faces the landlord when he inevitably comes pounding, or he can do something about it.

“C’mon, you big, blond hunk of a Viking—Answer!” Peter yelled at the roof, waving around a wad of herbs he had found in your closet. Nothing in your apartment gave him any answers either. Date, phone call, and then no one returned to either apartment that night—that’s all Peter’s come up with. He’s checked Sam’s camera footage, checked Bucky’s traps he thinks no one knows about, and has swept the apartment vents like an actual fucking spider.

He has learned nothing and seen too much.

Peter huffed, snuffing the small flame out on the herbs before throwing it across the room. This was hopeless. Bucky had his phone so Peter couldn’t exactly call up the God like he had done in Iceland. The only other person he thinks about calling is Druig, but that motherfucker doesn’t have a phone and Peter’s not about to dredge through the Amazon to find him.

Standing for a few more awkward seconds in the middle of the living room, Peter decided it was time to venture to a place he swore he wouldn’t go back to. He does not want to see the wizard—he’d rather spring off the Empire State without his webs than go and see him after what happened a few months ago.

But if he could just explain himself better, maybe bring some tangible evidence this time, then maybe Dr. Strange will entertain him for more than a few seconds before turning his attention back to whatever alien species needed to be transported off Earth that day.

“I work and I work,” Peter mumbled, arranging a last-minute bag. “And what do I get from it? No old friends and now, no new friends. Did I piss off the Gods? Did I piss off God? Who the fuck knows, certainly not me—”

A knock on the door.

Peter practically stumbled across the living room before he halted, sudden flashes of an old white man with bulky glasses and stained sweats demanding his rent pop into his mind. He listened hard, caught no old man scent—

But it is a familiar scent. So familiar he wondered if the sweatshirt in his bag had somehow teleported to the hallway when he wasn’t looking. A scent that he misses, a scent he would fight the world again for, again and again.

He ripped the door open as casually as he could, trying hard to steady his breath. But that proved impossible as he discovered her standing there: curly hair dried at the split ends, black-on-black attire, that black dahlia necklace hanging between her breasts.

MJ was here. At his apartment.

MJ. Is. Here.

“Hi.” That's all that came out. All his lungs could push upward.

MJ smiles. That wonderful smile that used to (and still does) send bolts of lightning through his spider veins. “I have literally tried every apartment building in Queens. Do you know how many knocks that is?”

She was looking for him? “I—You were looking for me?”

“Yeah, duh. But you didn’t exactly tell me much, other than I live in Queens and My name is Peter Parker.”

“What…Why did you need to find me? Did something happen?” He found himself scanning her, checking for blood or visible broken bones. MJ shivered from his gaze, and he forced himself to look back up at her face, to focus on the beauty of that perfectly curved upper lip.

“Well, yes and no. Not to me, persay. I was just there when it happened and behold! I knew the name that woman screamed out.”

“Someone…Screamed my name?”

“Oh my god, yes. I just said that. Aren’t you going to let me in?”

Peter blinked, then blinked some more. He was certain a whole hour had passed before his body moved him out of the way, before he allowed MJ through and offered her a bottle of water. He watched her sit down. Watched her pull her hair into a ponytail. Watched her scrunch up her nose as she watched the rain tumble from outside and slap against the windows. Watched her agree to a cup of hot chocolate as she sipped her water. Watched her sit at one of the barstools as he made the drink.

“Are you some sort of superhero?”

Peter cringed. He busied himself with watching the boiling milk, weighing the pros and cons of telling her the truth or not. And so what if he did? Dr. Strange hadn’t told him he couldn’t start the roster all over again. He had every right to do so.

“I’m Spider-Man.”

MJ’s tapping fingers stopped mid-air, her expression rounding into an amused glare. “You’re fucking with me.”

Peter sighed and shot a web into a corner of the room, all without even looking away from the boiling milk. He grabbed the dark chocolate bars and sank them into the pot.

MJ cleared her throat, her mouth snapping shut. Then, because she’s MJ and he knows her like he knows the sun rises in the east, she burst out laughing.

Joyous, clear laughter.

“Which mug do you want?”

“What!” MJ sat wide-eyed, her laughter now short bursts of innocent delight. “You’re just going to shoot that liquid across the room and not say anything else about it?”

“It’s not a liquid.”

“Semantics. You’re freaking Spider-Man!”

“Louder. I don’t think my landlord heard you.”

She waved a casual hand through the air. “No wonder that woman screamed for you! You could actually help them do something!”

“Who screamed my name?” He poured the brown milk the best he could without spilling it over the rims. He knew the answer before she even said it.

He handed her the drink as she answered, “The woman dating the Winter Soldier. Captain America was there, too.”

His heart plummeted. “What happened to them?”

Because he would have heard if they had been slain. He would have been contacted by Sam’s assistant, Margot, about his possible passing. The apartment would be listed and he’d be kicked out before he could even explain how Sam had promised him a room for life.

“Sucked into a portal to Hell from what I saw.”

His heart plummeted some more, turning to dust like it had six years ago. “Tell me everything.”

MJ looked up at him, her soft lips sipping from the mug. Then she gave him a salute, face going deathly serious, before she explained everything, every detail, like Peter had physically been there himself.

“Elva invited me to the Guard Briefing. Thought you might want to join us.”

Bucky side-eyed Sam, popping a cherry into his mouth as he lounged on Sam’s temporary king-sized masterpiece of a bed. Why was he only given a queen?

“Oh, you’re inviting me on this little rendezvous now?”

Sam sent him a similar playful glare. “I don’t want to go toe to toe with the Winter Soldier’s wrath, so yeah.”

“The Winter Soldier is on vacation at the moment. You’ll get full Bucky Barnes wrath if you exclude me again.”

Sam laughed. “Got it. When I’m planning to engage in dumbassery, I should call you always to see if you want to join.”

“Now you’re starting to understand our relationship.”

Sam laughed again, popping a cherry from his own bowl into his mouth. He kicked his feet up onto a nearby stool. “The faster we find those witches, the faster we get to go home. How much time do you even think has passed?”

Bucky chewed on his bottom lip, thinking. Sam had sent his letter to Sarah out this morning, explaining their predicament and how they were planning on leaving as soon as possible—except Sam didn’t exactly mention they were trapped in Hell. The literal Underworld. Sam had simply called it “limbo”.

Like Sarah would ever believe that. But Sam did write and advise her to keep track of time there, to monitor the effects of their absence and notify the proper people. Sarah had Bruce Banner’s, Clint Barton’s, and Wanda Maximoff’s numbers. Bucky hoped Sarah didn’t try to contact Wanda, though. She had destroyed Kamar-Taj and basically whipped Doctor Strange’s ass last month.

Her help probably wouldn’t be the best option. Plus, no one knew where she was.

“Honestly,” Bucky continued to ponder. “Maybe a month?”

“Pfft. Don’t be so damn optimistic,” Sam teased, sarcasm drenched over every syllable.

“A week, then.”

“Two tops.” This Bucky could agree with.

A small knock sounded on the door. With a noise of approval, the door creaked open to reveal the loveliest shade of forest green Bucky had ever seen. So you had caved and opened that closet in your room.

The dress hugged you tightly around the waist but was otherwise loose on the sleeves and skirt. A soft, cotton fabric that reached mid-shin and billowed lightly at the ends. You had kept your heeled boots, however, but it only enhanced the outfit’s overall look.

“Hello, our medieval princess! To what do we owe the pleasure?” Sam beamed, chewing on another cherry.

You rolled your eyes. You made your way over to where Bucky was sitting, plopping down on his lap and kissing his cheek in greeting. Sam groaned underneath his breath, and Bucky felt all-powerful.

“I’ve come to see if you two would like to join me in the Offering Room. Hades said it was a way to…speak with souls who have passed.”

Bucky’s fingers fidgeted around your waist. “Like…Talk-talk?”

You shook your head. “No. But the soul is there, I think. That’s what he explained.”

Bucky scrunched his nose a little, trying hard not to show his distaste. It’s not that he didn’t want to join you—to be honest, fuck Sam and his rendezvous adventures. Let the fucker be eaten by a demon. Bucky wanted to spend some time with you. But going to a place where he would only be hounded by the fact that Steve was somewhere, wasn’t exactly tempting.

“Is it okay if I pass?”

You blinked at him, surprise in your irises. “Yes, it’s okay. I was not forcing you.”

Bucky’s lip twitched, rising higher on the right side. “I know you weren’t, but it’s just…I said my goodbyes. I don’t want to do it again.”

“I completely understand.”

“But do you need someone there with you? Do you want support?”

You smiled down at him. That smile that always made his chest glow from the inside-out. “I think I’ll be fine. But meet me afterward? In my room?”

“Ew,” Sam mumbled from across the room. He was searching the closets for a suitable shirt for the briefing. “I’m so glad our rooms are soundproof.”

“Not good,” you replied. “If we’re being stabbed to death, you won’t be able to hear the screams.”

Sam grimaced. “Damn, Shortcake. Straight to it.”

You stood from Bucky’s lap, the cold air immediately hitting him. Just yesterday, you two had been on your first date in six months. Now, you’re both acting as if being sucked into Hell was just a roadblock. An insignificant obstacle that had a simple solution. Tell 1940s Bucky he’d be making deals with the literal Devil and fighting non-human entities, and he would have laughed so hard a lung would have popped.

Maybe this Guard Briefing would go well. Maybe they have located all three Fates and killing them would be a piece of cake. Maybe Bucky’s life and all those scattered puzzle pieces would finally stick and form a clear picture. One that allowed Bucky to put the Winter Soldier behind him, the Avengers behind him, and only focus on you and Sam.

But just like in the “human-lands”, Sam was Captain America. Sam was going to get answers because you and Bucky were his unit, his team, and Sam was your leader. If that meant going to Underworld briefings and following a dangerous, red-eyed woman around the palace, then so be it.

“Sam and I are going to join Elva and the guards. I’ll meet you in about two hours.”

You nodded at him, sweeping down to plant a quick kiss to lips. A kiss that had him wanting more. But Bucky reined it in, quelling that feeling until it was appropriate. You seemed to notice though, because the tiny snort you accidentally released was completely at his expense.

After you left, Bucky watched Sam contemplate the combination of a black undershirt and navy blue pants.

“Automatic no,” Bucky pressed, grabbing a long-sleeved, black undershirt for himself. He slipped it on, careful to not tear the fabric across the left arm. His care was short-lived however when Sam simply reached forward and tugged at the sleeve, ripping it off completely.

“There.” Sam smiled, pulling out two extravagant vests and coats. Black with gold embroidery, and definitely something Bucky’s only seen described in fantasy novels. “Now you’re good.”

Bucky grumbled. He opted to leave his long hair down—as much as he wanted to leave behind that Winter Soldier look, he had to admit it made him look authoritative. And dominant.

“They better have some answers,” Sam said, pulling on his own vest. It stretched across the expanse of his chest, the buttons somewhat strained but capable. “Or else I’m going to get pissed.”

Two servants guided you to the Offering Room, their heads bowed in silence and hands interlocked in front of themselves. You did your best to minimize the sound of your heeled boots on the stone floor, even keeping your breathing to a minimum. The servants seemed to float effortlessly.

You brought some orange slices in a bowl that you had been allowed to cut up yourself. You had mentioned how you could simply just grow the fruit, but they refused. Something about the specific fruit they gave you having been blessed already.

The servants left you alone, bowing their heads in silent goodbye. Good, because now you were able to truly marvel at what was before you.

Floor to ceiling glimmers of light, sparkling then dying out, flashing from one side to another then back and forth. The two walls to your sides were the same—a whole universe of light, enveloping you. The wall wasn’t entirely black. The base color was more silver, then ocean blue, then death’s night. And the lights were opal, pink, purple, and gold. Stars that made an appearance for a few seconds, then vanished.

You placed the bowl of oranges at the altar. Your heart leapt from all the other baskets and flowers surrounding the altar, all remnants of love, grief, and joy. Your heels clacked as you walked around, watching every soul jump and bounce, every soul a thousand, a million, a second year old. The Underworld’s treasures.

On the ceiling, water dripped onto and over the rocky surface, cascading like a waterfall. Some parts were missed, while others were hit and soaked. The bottom corners of each wall had vines growing upward, flowers full and vibrant as they tried and failed to latch onto the walls. There was no wind in the room, but something seemed to blow a soft breeze, an encouragement for each desperate petal.

You waved a wrist, turning your fingers slightly, and watched as your magic aided the first of many flowers. The vines remained the same length, but the flowers opened up more. Petals turned and glued themselves into the walls, pollen dancing from their centers and into the air. The souls within the walls shimmered all at once, overjoyed. Stars embraced by current life.

“Ari…”

The shimmering halted for a moment, the room turning darker. Your worry was short-lived, however, when a single light shone from your left. Gold. Blinking. Directly beside the raining water from the ceiling.

You raised a hand up, hovering your fingers, feeling the vibrations sink into your skin and along your veins. Pure. “Guess what I’ve been up to?”

The light blinked excitedly, hopping around in a little circle. You giggled, holding back happy tears. “Bucky is treating me well. Very well. You would have really liked him.” The light blinks twice in response.

As you take a pause, simply marveling at its brightness, you felt deep down inside, in the marrow of your bones, that you were speaking to Ari. Somewhere out there, Ari has paused because of this feeling. He had been wandering, then he wasn’t, and now he’s suspended in time and space with you. Accepting the offering, leaning against a tree bark or something, closing his eyes and envisioning you. It’s him, yet, it’s not. He’s here, yet, the universe has created a boundary. A boundary that can no longer be crossed.

“I’ve learned how to paint. Paint by numbers, but it’s something. Remember how you were the one to paint the pottery with the women, and how they would kick you out whenever you showed them up?” you chuckled, still hovering over the golden light. “I hope you’re okay. And you might not agree with what I’m planning to do, but it’s something I want to do.”

The golden light blinked once, as if saying No, I don’t agree, but it stayed. It stayed and glowed deeper, pulsing, until it faded. Fading back into the wondrous display of a thousand souls.

“If we just look across the Styx—”

“You mean if we look in the human world?” Maxwell laughed. “I know I let a demon out and I take full responsibility, but trust me. If a Fate bitch was on a beach in Cancun, I would know. Dr. Strange and his band of misfits would know.”

The guard, a stocky fellow of middle authority, snarled at him. Maxwell has dealt with these assholes for over two-hundred years—one snarl doesn’t bother him. But the fact that they were actually thinking about infiltrating Earth because they think the first Fate somehow ventured across the godsdamned Styx…

“Even then,” Hades added from across the long table, seemingly undisturbed. “Charon has no time on his hands. I will not have him row you to the other side just because of a guess.”

The guard grumbled, but took a seat. Maxwell didn’t try to hide his smirk. He turned to Sam and Bucky, two silent soldiers of their own making, standing near the entrance. Or exit, however one calls it. They hadn’t spoken much, only Sam when it came down to strategizing.

“Charon is your loyal servant, Hades. He would not have granted passage to any of the Fates.” That was the voice of the boorish and nasty Arc Kane, one of the few guards Hades enlisted on pure strength alone. “I say we travel to Tartarus. We know their parents reside there. Nyx resides there.”

So far, he was making sense. The Fates, surprisingly enough, adored their parents. Nyx, especially. But Nyx was only in Tartarus when Hemera wasn’t, so the idea wasn’t strong.

“You know only Atropos would be stupid enough to go there. Clotho and Lachesis are scared mice who scattered, but most likely scattered close by. Going after Atropos first would reduce our forces and put us at an even greater risk physically. She’s the most powerful, Kane. You do not go for the big one before the war even starts.” Elva’s speech silenced the whole room. Hades’s smile pulled higher on the left side, and the look of pure pride was evident. Of course Hades was thinking the same thing. But he was the type of God who sat back, relaxed, and let the film roll.

“What is it, Elva? Feeling emasculated because you can’t churn their blood and have to fight with your hands now?”

Maxwell slowly turned his head to Kane, his mouth splitting into a wide smile. He didn’t say anything—Elva could speak for herself. But he did want Kane to see the pure glee he was rightfully feeling.

Elva leapt across the table, papers and leftover glasses of wine toppling as her weight shook the wood. She threw herself into Kane, knocking him off his feet and onto the floor. There they rolled, punches thrown and lips cut until Elva took a hold of her hidden dagger, slicing at his cheek until his blood coated her hand. The other guards merely watched, as did Hades.

It was routine. Maxwell knew this. Sam and Bucky didn’t.

As the blood became more noticeable then the guards moved. Elva was ripped from Kane. The force of such a tug sent her flying across the room, right into Sam. He caught her the best he could, slamming into the wall behind him. Bucky steadied her by the arms, anger turning his light blue eyes as dark as the marble doors. Maxwell took a seat, just as unbothered as Hades.

“No,” Elva finally spit. She locked eyes with Kane, who was being helped up, her glare one of absolute malice. She raised her dagger to her mouth and licked the blade clean. “But I can still drink it.”

Everyone, including Sam and Bucky, shuddered. Maxwell had seen Elva go feral before—a beautiful, golden vampire-witch who drained every last drop just for fun.

“Until we have definitive proof that Atropos might be residing in Tartartus,” Hades called from across the long table. Maxwell turned to him. “I will not send my guards to investigate. Only I can make the trip under the guise of official business. I will tell you all what I gain from that visit next week. Dismissed.”

The guards, including Kane, obliged. Kane, however, exited with a scowl thrown over a shoulder, directed mainly at Elva.

“That was entertaining,” Hades teased, standing. His full height always intimidated Maxwell. A giant sure to trick you of the measure of his true strength. “But I need them to want to fight alongside you. Not against you.”

Elva huffed, pushing away Sam’s arms. He backed away, blushing slightly. “He angers me.”

Hades snorted, “Kane angers everyone. But from what I understood from the beginning of the briefing—our two lowly sisters are somewhere near. Hiding, like cowards.”

“Can’t you feel them out?” Sam asked.

“I don’t feel them out. They’re their own beings. I am not connected to them.”

Maxwell could tell they were getting annoyed. Hades wasn’t trying to seem like an asshole…He just always came off as one.

“Aren’t you supposed to know everything that happens here?” Bucky deadpanned, raising an eyebrow at the God.

Hades smirked at him, looking him up and down. “Observant, Barnes. Do you feel anything?”

Bucky’s brow furrowed as he tilted his head at the God. "What do you mean?”

Maxwell knew where this was heading. But it was still too early, just as it was too early to reveal to him that he should be able to hear the Goddess’s heartbeat. Subtle hints weren’t going to break through the dense, naive heads of two humans.

Hades seemed to debate those very questions in his own head. He watched Bucky for a few awkward seconds—or at least, it was awkward for everyone else in the room. Finally, in a low voice that Hades reserved for the gentlest of souls, he said, “You are muted on Earth…”

Bucky’s face only turned with more confusion. Even Sam pursed his lips around a silent vowel.

“What do you—

A rumble caused the walls to creak. Everything halted, even their breathing. Maxwell stood slowly, his shoulders now loose but his fists locked. “What was that?”

Hades straightened, blue light now shining like a shadow behind him. Flames even torched the ends of his night-black hair.

“Do you have earthquakes in Hell?” Sam whispered, instinct making him step close to Bucky. His stance resembled that of a prepared Avenger, but there was an underlying fear in his eyes. Fear that cracked the surface when a deafening bout of laughter whipped straight passed, invisible but there. Like a gust of wind.

Maxwell’s first thought was to get to Wenrel. To guard her and keep her safe in his pocket. On his shoulder. Wherever, just so long as she was with him. Because Elysium had just been breached.

“Fuck.”

Backing away, you wondered how many times Hades has visited the Offering Room. Who he prays to besides his mother. If he has ever asked the souls to help guide him to his mate.

It’s a shame Bucky didn’t want to join you. But it makes sense—he has already said goodbye to Steve Rogers. He had buried Steve, visited his grave, said his peace. Speaking to him again would just reopen old wounds when he’s been working so hard to keep them sealed. Friends, humanitarian work, reading, knitting—collective balms that kept his mind occupied, that relaxed his nerves and gave him a reason to wake up the next day. That distracted him from the urge to drink. The wine in Hell held no ability to intoxicate—this Bucky found out last night when he had accidentally sipped from a glass in an effort to remain casual and steady when he met the dark God.

But the Offering Room suddenly went dark again, as if reading your mind. To your right, in a glorious display of blue light that was almost white, beamed a soul. Walking slowly, cautiously, you raised a hand to its radiating heat. It pulsed, then pulsed again, breezy across the hair of your arms. In a low whisper, as if scared someone might overhear, you asked, “Are you Steve Rogers?”

The light danced in a similar circle Ari’s soul drew. Not quite as excited as your mate, but happy nonetheless. “And are you okay?”

The white light flashed twice. A yes, apparently. “I hope you’re resting. I feel like it would be inappropriate to speak of much else, you and me.”

It danced again.

Duh.

A sense of humor, this one. “Thank you for drawing Ari for me all those years ago.” Another dance. "And yes…Bucky’s okay, too.”

It stilled, shining bright, then pulsed strong enough you felt the heat beneath your feet. Yes.

The light diminished, then joined the beautiful chaos once again. You released a heavy sigh, backing away from the wall. Visiting two souls seemed to drain your energy. Your legs felt heavy and your arms were tired from being raised for so long. A long night’s sleep was the best option right about now.

You turned to walk out the Offering Room, tired but glad you came, when a rumble unlike Steve’s soul shook the stone beneath your feet. A quick one, one that ended a millisecond after it started. Seconds passed before another rumble sounded, this one shaking more than just the ground. The servants threw open the black, stone doors. Fright painted across their purple skin.

You waited, not stupid enough to take another step. Suspended with one foot forward and one back. Your back heel lifted. The wall showed no disturbance luckily—the souls were safe.

But the altar.

You turned your head slowly, years of stealth molding useful for this one moment. All that was heard was the sound of your modest breathing, the sound of the servants’ jewelry clinking.

Silence.

Then the altar exploded with a battle roar, black shadows stretching and curving as they burst from the hole in the ground. You leapt as far away as you could, hands ready to rip the vines off the Offering Walls to defend yourself and the servants.

But the four figures emerged from the clouds of smoke, all with the same pale, dry skin. Eyes as dark as onyx, as large as tennis balls. A mouth with no teeth, no smile, just a foul scent that reeked of death and torture. Hands as thin as skeletons. Bouts of laughter as ear-splitting as nails on a chalkboard.

“A shame,” the demon crawling toward you purred. “You weren’t our Persephone after all.”

TAGLIST: @fandoms-writings @hajmola-vs-aamchaska @natbarnes1917 @howlermonkey69 @shirukitsune @sentimental-for-maneskin

#Bucky Barnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes fanfic #Bucky Barnes x female reader #bucky barnes x poc!reader #bucky barnes x y/n #dreaming in june sequel #hunting the fates series #bucky barnes smut #sam wilson x original female character #marvel fanfiction

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bucky-bucket-barnes · 2 years

Note

Ok I have a angst requests. Unrequited love cause I like to hurt myself,but reader is the one in love with bucky. You can do a sad or happy ending its up to you

the cure

Pairings: bucky barnes x avenger!reader

Warnings: so much angst, hurt comfort, arguing, swearing, minor depictions of violence, blood, slow burn, and some fluff

Word Count: 3.7k

masterlist

Thick blood pooled in your hand, gathering like an expensive wine, traversing the lines in your palms before dripping thickly down onto the pavement below. A piece of broken glass had scathed at your hand as you were climbing out a window in an attempt to leave the building swiftly. While you should have been more concerned about the risk of tetanus or the multitude of other blood diseases you had just exposed yourself to, the thought of those didn’t trouble you much.

Bucky. He was the first thing to cross your mind. You knew he’d fuss once he saw the blood pouring out of your hand, insisting, practically begging to help. It felt awful to admit, but his attention was addicting.

He was always so much sweeter when you were hurting, so much softer. Instead of fretting over your injury, you fantasized about it. The panic that would descend in Bucky’s eyes, clouding his pupils, the tenderness in which he’d offer to wrap your hand. The maddening satisfaction that he cared about you deeply enough to worry.

It was masochistic, it was sick. Sometimes you thought you were sick. But you hadn’t gotten hurt on purpose, of course not, this was just an added benefit to the pain.

On cue, he rounded the corner, huffing out, “Alright, I got the hard drive we needed, let's head out before the cops show up.”

You didn’t respond with words, instead, you outstretched your palm toward his direction, like a beggar reaching for alms. You studied his face, nipped and bitten red by the cold night air, the way his brows furrowed at the revelation. Even in the modest light of the alleyway, you could see the concern melt into his face.

“Oh, doll, what happened?” Bucky asked softly into the night, gently taking your hand to inspect for any further damage. Sirens were nearing in the background, the breeze whispered against your skin, causing a shiver to travel down your spine.

Doll, he called me doll.

That was his pet name for you, sparsely used except on the occasion when he believed you needed an extra bit of kindness from his direction. Doll was reserved for severely scraped knees, sprained ankles, nasty bruises on the arm, and, now, for glass in your hand. Your actual name was for all other occasions, for casual conversations, late-night talks on the roof, and group settings. You hated it.

“Did you scrape anything else? Are you okay to walk?”

I could fly if you’d ask.

“Yeah, I’m good. My hand needs help though,” you answered. He tugged at his shirt sleeve, ripping off a decent chunk of fabric near his wrist.

“I don’t think anything got stuck in there, but I’ll take you to the Med Bay just to be sure.” He wrapped the blue fabric around your hand as he spoke.

Just as quickly as you had caught him, he was slipping through your fingers. He’d drop you off and in the morning he’d be normal Bucky. Not mean or cruel but something much worse; disinterested. Your attention would be thrown towards another person as you floated in the background like a forgotten shadow.

“Could you bandage it when we get home? I’m sorry, I’m just really tired.”

Bucky shot you a concerned look before studying your face more. “If that’s what you want, doll.” A weak smile cracked on his face before his face returned with worry. He went to wipe a small smudge of dried blood that clung to your forehead. Momentarily, you convinced yourself he was going to lean in for a kiss.

“Let’s get you fixed up,” he added gently, wrapping your hand before ushering you into your getaway vehicle.

Your heart tightened in your chest as your throat stung with disappointment. He would be yours for the night. You silently tried to convince yourself that this would be the last time you’d reach for his attention. This isn’t love, this is pity. He was being a good friend, a dutiful soldier.

“You’re going to worry me to death, you know that?” He glanced over as you attempted to put on your seatbelt. “Here,” he whispered, reaching across to adjust the buckle for you in fear your hand would start gushing more blood.

“Promise?” you sighed, gazing longly at his side profile as he began to drive.

“Steve’s always moving the damn rubbing alcohol,” Bucky grumbled as he dug through the kitchen’s medicine cabinet. The lights above made a low humming noise, the only sound to accompany Bucky and you.

The air felt thick as you sat patiently at the island, studying your hand in the warm light. Everyone else was either dead asleep or several states away, allowing Bucky and you to remain in the kitchen undisturbed. Alone.

He sighed triumphantly, pulling out the faded grey bottle before ushering you over to the sink, “C’mere, we need to rinse it first.”

Shuffling out of your seat, you gently spoke, “Thanks, again, I really appreciate it.” The cold floor tickled against your bare feet, causing you to shiver lightly as you moved.

“Of course, I couldn’t leave my partner high and dry.” He guided your hand under the cool running water. By now, you had stopped actively bleeding. The blood had dried, floating down in flakes of browns and reds as it swirled around the sink before falling down the drain. Your eyes remained on the faucet, trying not to catch Bucky’s gaze that was barreling into your temples.

Bucky’s hand was gently wrapped around your wrist in an attempt to control your quivering. The heat radiating from his body wasn’t enough to warm you up.“You’re shaking like a leaf, are you sure you’re feeling okay?”

Feeling your face grow warm, you cleared your throat. “I’m just cold, that’s all, Buck.” You swiftly moved your hand back to your side and silently reached to grab a paper towel. Part of you believed the longer he held onto you, the sooner he’d realize this odd game he was unknowingly partaking in.

“Here,” he said softly, wrapping his jacket around your arms. “It’s not much, but it should keep you warm until you go to bed.”

Mouthing a small thank you, you readjusted the leather around your arms. It smelled like his cologne, a warm coffee scent that lingered around all his clothing.

Standing in silence, you turned to face Bucky, who was now just inches apart from your face. His eyes began to traverse your face inquisitively, as if he was trying to find a secret tucked between your eyebrows or hiding on your cheekbones.

“Doll?” he lulled so quietly you weren’t sure if he had spoken. He reached for your hand, slowly dabbing the alcohol on your wound. He stopped for a second, eyes glancing up towards your face, waiting to see if you were flinching.

It was as if you couldn’t move. His stare alone had turned you to stone, bolting your tired feet into the tiled ground. Is he onto me? “Yes, Bucky?”

“Is everything okay?”

“Yeah, it was just a scratch.”

“No, I meant is everything okay with us.”

It felt like you were swallowing rocks as your mouth ran dry. He had a disappointed glint in his eyes as he awaited your response with bated breath.

“Of course, why wouldn’t it be?” The words fell seamlessly from your mouth, almost convincing yourself for a moment. Out of all the questions he could have prompted, this wasn’t the one you were expecting to tumble out of his mouth. He mindlessly gnawed at his lower lip, unsatisfied with your answer.

Bucky slowly began to wrap a bandage around your hand. “Did I say something? For the past few weeks, I feel like you’ve been. . . distant. You don’t talk to me anymore, except on missions, and you’re quiet on those too. I thought you needed space, but now- now I’m not sure. What happened to us?”

Us, us, us, us, us, there is not us, stop saying us.

Guilt was bubbling in your mouth as you clenched your jaw. You weren’t trying to hurt his feelings, you never were.

“Life,” you shrugged. “You’ve been dating, I’ve just been more into work. We’re fine, though.” You smiled lightly, fighting back the burning shame that was rising in your throat. “I guess this is just what happens when you grow up.”

“Y/N, I haven’t made it to a second date with anyone yet, you have nothing to worry about,” he reassured, taking your uninjured hand in his. “Our friendship means a lot to me, whoever I date knows you’re part of the package.” He was smiling, sure the misunderstanding had been cleared up by now.

Your heart cracked when you heard your name. Doll was gone for the night, now in her place was what felt like a half-baked version of a person. Feelings of embarrassment and shame began flooding into your body again. This was you why didn’t say anything, held your tongue instead of telling him how you felt.

Because you weren’t the girl he’d take out on dates.

You weren’t even the girl he’d take to the movies.

No, you were who he came home to. Always waiting patiently for him to come back, like time froze when he wasn’t home. You were a stand in for whoever he’d find to take your place.

“Thanks,” you could feel your voice dangerously close to faltering as you took off his jacket, shedding it like an old skin. You briskly made your way out of the kitchen, hoping he didn’t catch the deep set frown on your lips. “Goodnight, Bucky,” you called back before making your way to your bedroom.

It was humiliating letting someone have this much power over you. Even worse, he either didn’t notice or he didn’t care.

“Goodnight,” Bucky murmured, eyes sadly gazing at the discarded jacket that now rested on the counter instead of your arms.

Snow was softly collecting on the ground outside. Lazily, you remained curled up against your window, watching as the flakes descended from the sky and onto your backyard. A warm cup of tea was curled around your hands, warming your fingertips.

Today is going to be a good day.

A whole month had flown by and you hadn’t thought of him once. Well, not for long, anyways. Bucky was off on some secret operative mission in Eastern Europe while you remained in New York. It was easy to lose track of time in your endless hours of paperwork and countless mini investigations. When you weren’t working, your time was devoted to getting lost in museums and exploring any hole in the wall restaurant you could find by yourself. If no one was going to take you on a date, you’d decided you’d take yourself.

I just needed some alone time.

A gentle knock came from your door, you remained still, sure Natasha was just checking in.

“It’s open,” you called out, still admiring the snow from the comfort of the heated indoors.

I like this version of me.

“Hey,” a familiar tone chimed out, warm and low.

Your head snapped towards his direction, eyes widened with surprise. Bucky stood just feet away, a shy smile on his face, more than the usual amount of stubble peppering his face. The air felt thick all of a sudden, the walls too close together to breathe.

“Your hair. It’s longer.” Was all you could manage to get out, gripping your cup so hard you thought it might break.

“Oh, yeah,” he responded, self consciously running his hands through his chestnut locks. “I couldn’t really cut it for a while. I just showered and shaved, but I wanted to say hi.”

“It looks good,” you reassured, a familiar feeling rising in your chest. You couldn’t smile in return, instead a hesitant look still lingering on your face.

He wasn’t supposed to be back this soon. Yes, you were glad he was home and more importantly that he came back in one piece, but you had been silently dreading his return for weeks.

Things can’t go back to how they were.

“Can I come in?”

“Sure, I was about to lie down though, I’m feeling a bit tired.”

Lie, your mind growled as he slowly walked in. He perched at the window sill besides you, gazing outside. The bright light of the snow reflected back on his features, slightly washing his face out. He was glowing.

“You look paler.”

“You’re observant today,” he chuckled, turning to look at you. You quietly told yourself you wouldn’t look back, maintaining a faux interest on the outside scenery.

A few minutes of silence passed between you two. It was peaceful and allotted your heart the chance to stop racing and the butterflies in your stomach to settle down. Sipping lightly at your tea, you could feel Bucky’s eyes back on you.

“It was kind of lonely.”

“Sorry to hear.”

“I thought about you a lot.”

You let his words hang in the air for a moment. Just a few weeks ago and you would have been vying for his attention, his secret affections he only exchanged when you were wounded. Now? You weren’t sure anymore.

“I missed you everyday,” he cooed, gently going to place his hand on top of yours.

Without thinking, you jerked yourself away, spilling the steaming peppermint tea all over your lap. A nasty hiss escaped your lips as you jumped off, praying the burning sensation would melt away as the liquid fell off your lap and onto the floor.

Bucky was immediately on his feet, snatching the cup from your grasp before it could shatter to the ground and cause further issue. A firm arm had wrapped around your waist in an attempt to keep you on your unsteady feet.

“Are you okay-”

“No!”

“Do you want me to-”

“No,” you corrected, shimmying yourself from his grasp. “No, I mean I’m done, I’m done with this.”

His feet remained planted, unsure whether you wanted him to reach out or stand down.

“You. . . you can’t keep doing this to me,” you sighed indignantly, clenching your hands in frustration, unsure where to channel your emotions.

“Doll-” He had a honey like sorrow in his voice; sweet, slow. His eyebrows turned up in confusion and hurt.

“Could you just stop! I can’t figure you out. One moment you’re sweet and telling me how much you missed me but then the next your off fucking some random girl before you come back home and play fucking nurse with me.��

Venom was lingering in your voice as you spat out your frustrations at Bucky, months of built up resentment and anger finally boiling over.

“Can we talk about this later, you just spilled boiling water all over yourself.” His calm tone only seemed to infuriate you more. He took slow steps towards you as if you’d jump out and bite his head off if he weren’t careful.

“I’m fine!” you challenged back. The adrenaline coursing through your body was enough to distract you from the burning feeling on your thighs.

“Clearly not,” he began to challenge back, exasperated. “You’re acting like I’ve just shot you, all I did was say I missed you. Is that not how you feel?”

“Get out.”

“Doll.”

“Bucky, I know you’re not dumb,” you groaned out in frustration. “I’ve liked you for months and if everyone else has picked up on it, I’m sure you have too. You don’t have to like me back, but you don’t get to go around saying ‘I missed you’ and then act like I don’t fucking exist unless I’m bleeding or burned. You’re being mean to me.”

“I can’t fucking read you at all.” It was his turn to bite back. An indignant scowl was situated on his face. “One moment you act like you can’t bandage you’re own fucking hand then you’re scurying away like some stray cat when I try to have a conversation. When you act like you want space, people usually try to give it to you, Y/N. I don’t think you even know how you feel.”

“I know you only give a fuck about me when I put on some stupid damsel in distress act. Do you know how that feels?”

“And you only act like you’re not scared of me when you want attention. And I’m a fool enough to give it everytime. Do you know how that feels?”

He shot your own words back at you in a way that was so uniquely painful, you both stood there in silence, taking shallow breaths in after your screaming match.

“Is that how you feel?” you asked matter-of-factly, voice steady.

“I’m sorry-”

“That’s not an answer,” you said softly, the anger withering from your voice and replacing itself with an old fatigue.

“Sometimes, yeah.” Bucky matched your low volume. It took everything he had in him to not step forward and pull you in a tight embrace, whispering sorry until his voice went hoarse. “I’m used to people being frightened. It hurts when you do it, though.”

“Your hookups don’t seem to be afraid.” You internally winced, wishing you would’ve phrased that better.

“They’re not you.”

“If you like me so much, why not ask me out?”

Bucky took a moment to glance you over, tracing your outline with his eyes. You were inches away and he still felt like he missed you.

“I have problems and three lifetimes worth of baggage. I don’t want you to get hurt. You’re more than just collateral damage.”

“We’ll hurt each other eventually. That’s life.”

“I don’t want to hurt you at all.”

“Bucky,” you began to fiddle with your hands, hoping to avoid his eyes. “Maybe we should give each other some space.”

“But,” he desperately reached out for you, cupping your face lightly, anguished in his eyes, “I like you.”

“But you don’t want to be with me. Liking me isn’t enough.” You were looking up at him, an injured look on your face. You couldn’t tell what was making your body ache more, this or the burn on your lap. Slowly, your hands went to rest atop of his before removing them from your face.

“Are we still friends?”

“I don’t know.”

“Can I at least get you an ice pack for your lap.”

“No, it’s okay. I take care of myself.”

Sunlight began streaming into the Grand Central Terminal, tickling against your skin as you walked around, luggage in hand. The snow was merciful enough to stop piling on the ground for a few days, allowing your 7 A.M. train to run on time. In under an hour you’d be boarding a one way trip to D.C.

The new year had just begun, it was time for a fresh start. A start that was far enough from New York to make you forget about the city. The people who lingered about the city. A certain person from the city, to be more exact.

A confused look settled on your face as you tried to find your exact stop before you drifted for the next half an hour at one of the local cafes. From the corner of your eye you could see something hurtling towards your direction in a frenzy.

It was him, hair disheveled and face wild with surprise. Bucky looked like he had just rolled out of bed before coming here, sleep still desperately trying to cling to his eyes.

There was no point in trying to duck in the crowd, he had his eyes locked on you as you stood.

“Y/N,” he called out, hoping you’d echo back with his own name.

“Bucky?” you spoke out, only loud enough for yourself to hear, his name a secret on your tongue.

“Don’t get on that train,” he gasped out, trying to regain his breath as he stopped short in front of you.

“I’m not, my train isn’t here for another 35 minutes.”

“Alright, give me a second then. Sam told me you were leaving this morning and I got here as fast as I could. I also just ran the past 10 blocks. Fucking traffic,” he huffed out, running an exasperated hand over his face in order to regain himself.

“What are you doing here?”

“Wait,” he pleaded, putting his hands out in defense. “Before you tell me to go away, I just needed to say something. Then you can curse me out all you want, I’d understand.”

“I don’t want to fight,” you mumbled, slightly wounded he was still ready for a fight even now.

“I’m a fucking idiot. Severely. Here I have, the most amazing woman I have ever met, who’s funny and kind and smart as well as beautiful and I was too much of a dumbass to treat her right. I’m insecure. I don’t like myself and I get scared that when other people get too close, they’ll see what I see, and they’ll want to go away.”

You noted the passersby that were stopping to spectate your scene. “Bucky, you don’t have to-”

“I want to, I want you. I’m sorry I wasn’t a better friend and I’m sorry I made you feel used. But I don’t want to lose you.”

Time slowed, all of a sudden the air felt too light and no matter how much oxygen you sucked in, it was never enough to satisfy your lungs. The rise and fall of your chest felt like a shake, battering your organs as you breathed in and out.

“Are you asking me to stay?” you asked, unsure what to do with this information.

“I’m asking that you let me follow you wherever you go. I don’t care if it’s New York, D.C., or the middle of nowhere, I just want to be with you.”

A decent crowd had circled around the two of you by then like vultures, waiting for a murder. The grip you had on your suitcase seemed to slip from your fingers as you moved towards him. You threw your arms around his torso, taking in a deep breath; it was like you could breathe again.

“Promise?”

“Promise,” he whispered against your temple before planting a soft kiss on your forehead, entangling his arms around your body. You could feel the way his body shook like a wilting flower, the excitement at which his heart thudded in his chest.

“Let’s go home, Bucky.”

“Of course, doll.”

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes angst #bucky barnes hurt comfort #bucky barnes x female!reader #bucky barnes x reader angst #bucky barnes x avenger!reader #bucky barnes x poc!reader #bucky barnes x hurt!reader #bucky barnes fluff #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes fic #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes au

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dilemmaontwolegs · 2 years

Text

Unexpected Salvation || Mafia!Bucky Barnes

Summary: Betrothed to an abusive mafia crime lord, Brock Rumlow, you can only dream of escaping his violent tendencies. On your wedding day you find yourself helpless and hopeless - until Bucky arrives. A crime lord himself, Bucky was no saint but to you he was suddenly a guardian Angel and you saw your path to freedom. Warnings: 18+ only, nsfw, physically abused reader, suicidal thoughts, domestic violence, mentions of violence, weapons and murder, unprotected sex, oral (f rec) WC: 8.1k

Bucky Masterlist

This was supposed to be the day that every woman dreamed about and no expense had been spared. The billowing layers of ivory satin and tulle swayed around your legs with every careful step you took, the soft swishing sound only interrupted by the heels tapping on the polished concrete floors.

Your father waited expectantly. His lips were pressed in a harsh line as he held his hand out, beckoning you to take your place at his side even if it was only going to be for a few moments. This was not how you imagined your wedding would be.

The whale bone corset did more than restrict your access to air, it restricted your ability to move. It was another pretty shackle that had been strapped to you, just like the stiletto heels and heavy wedding gown - everything was designed to stop you from escaping.

“Father, please, I can’t do this,” you whispered as he hooked you to his side and pinned you with a cold stare that froze any further pleas.

“You can and you will,” he growled under his breath. “Rumlow is the most powerful man in this State and this marriage will make our family name great again. So, be a dutiful wife and don’t fuck this up.”

You swallowed the sob that clawed at your throat and prayed for salvation as music filled the air, the wedding march. The corset bodice had contorted your body into what was deemed desirable to Brock, but it was a mockery of who you were. The strangers who dressed you had not hidden their laughter as they pushed and pulled at your skin, shoving your breasts high up your chest and pulling at your waist until it bowed into a painful curve. In this dress, you didn’t recognise yourself - maybe that was the only salvation that there was.

Heavy doors swung open and you nearly collapsed at the sound of the hinges groaning with a final plea bursting from your lips. You looked to your father but for the first time in your life you saw fear reflected in his eyes and you cast your eyes ahead to find the doors to the church still shut, your condemnation sealed on the other side.

Dead, brown leaves drifted past your feet on a phantom breeze and you teetered on the heels as you spun around to find the grand doors that lead to the pebblestone driveway wide open. The sunlight streaming in blinded your vision to the man filling the doorway but you could tell from your fathers reaction he was not a welcome guest. A flick of his wrist gave a signal and more men streamed in, this time there was no mistaking who it was. There was only one rival brave enough to interrupt Brock Rumlow’s wedding day.

James ‘Bucky’ Barnes.

There was no time to think as he stepped closer and you saw the halo of light around his head. This was your salvation, he was the angel sent to save you or maybe he was just another devil in a Versace suit.

Your father sensed the change in you and tried to reach for your arm but the horse had already bolted and you were racing across the foyer. Blue eyes widened imperceptibly as you gathered your skirts and ran for him, praying the heels didn’t snap your ankles. Guns were drawn around him but Bucky splayed his hand out, stilling the fingers pressed to the triggers and turning their aim away from you, to your father.

You crashed into his broad chest and his arms encircled you, tucking you into his side and away from the man who had raised you, the man now screaming for Brock’s men that were waiting inside the church.

“Take me with you, please,” you begged as you fisted his expensive suit.

Bucky may have been as much a criminal as Brock but rumour was that he had a moral code when it came to who he killed - no women, no children. You were willing to bet your life on that rumour.

Bucky stared down at you with cold, calculating eyes before he nodded and cast his arm protectively over your shoulders, “Let’s go.”

Your fathers shouts echoed after you and a small crack cleaved in your chest as he shouted at Bucky to give you back. You tried to believe that it was a final gift from father to daughter, that he made it seem like you were being kidnapped, but in your heart of hearts you knew the truth - he was doing what he did best and only protecting himself.

Blacked out Escalades were idling in the drive and Bucky quickly bundled you into the back of one, slamming the door shut before the quiet pings of silenced shots cracked the glass beside your head. You screamed before slamming a hand over your mouth and slid to the floor as the engine roared and pebbles scattered behind the skidding tires.

“You’ll be safer up here with a seatbelt on,” Bucky said with a small amused smirk playing on his lips, but it didn’t reach his eyes. “It’s bulletproof.”

You swallowed the bile rising in your throat and crawled out of the sea of fabric as panic began to swell in your chest. Every breath burned your airway and you couldn’t fill your lungs with the corset constricting your ribcage. A fine sheen of sweat broke out across your skin and you tried to tear through the layers as you tried to get back to your own body.

“Hold still,” Bucky ordered with a commanding voice that gripped you in its snare. His hand disappeared into his suit jacket and pulled out a flick knife, the blade jumping forth before it was aimed at you and he repeated the command. “Don’t move.”

You gasped at the cold touch of the blade against your skin and readied yourself for the pain but it didn’t come. Fabric was torn and ribbons sliced and suddenly you could breathe.

“I couldn’t do it,” you whimpered between the gasping intakes of air that refilled your lungs to the brim. “I couldn’t marry him.”

A warm hand caught your jaw and slowly turned you away from the blur of the world passing by, right into the path of the bluest eyes you had ever seen. “You are going to hyperventilate if you don’t slow your breathing.”

“I. Can’t.” You tried but all you could think about was the look on your fathers face, the betrayal you saw when you looked back. Then the fear began to grow, the fear of what Brock would do if he took you back. “I can’t breathe.”

“You can,” Bucky argued, his hand sliding along your jaw so he could remove the diamond drop earring then did the same with the other. He tossed the expensive pair into the cargo space, atop the mass of fabric he had cut from the dress. “Let go of that fear, doll. You’re safe now.”

“Am I?” His fingers danced around your throat and he frowned as he felt your body tremble beneath his touch, retracting his hands as soon as the diamond and ruby necklace was unclasped. You exhaled the breath you had been holding when he leaned back and you saw those inquisitive eyes asking questions you weren’t ready to answer.

“Yes,” he said quietly as he mindlessly spun a signet ring around his finger, “I won’t hurt you.”

Though you had no reason to, you believed him. You felt safe and he had been nothing but helpful so your rapidly beating heart began to slow. The months of nights spent lying awake and planning an escape finally caught up with you as the SUV sped to some unknown destination and you found your head coming to rest on Bucky’s shoulder as your eyes fluttered shut.

Of all of your plans to run away, this had never been one. You had wanted to escape the mafia but somehow you had run from one boss and right into the arms of another. Strong arms. Very strong arms and blue eyes.

The scent on the pillow immediately told you this was his room, his bed. It was the same calming scent that had lulled you to sleep on the drive here, wherever here was. You didn’t really care, you were just grateful it was anywhere Brock wasn’t.

A smile grew on your face at the thought of the tantrum Brock would probably still be throwing but it quickly dimmed when you realised there were probably a lot of people getting hurt because of it. Brock’s temper was the thing of nightmares and you had been on the receiving end of it enough times to pity those who had to deal with him this time.

You rose from the bed and looked at the tattered remains of the wedding dress in the full length mirror, it looked like something out of a Tim Burton film. You tore what little remained away and kicked it away only to shudder at the new reflection.

Swollen purple bruises littered your skin and left your stomach turning as you slipped into the closet needing to hide his violent touch. Brock was strategic in where to leave his marks, places only a lover would find them. It was just another way to control your life.

Expensive suits and dress shirts hung neatly along the closet walls so you walked further into the room until you found something a little more casual. You were finally successful in finding a plain t-shirt that covered enough skin but you could still tell from how soft the fabric was that it was no less expensive than the rest of Bucky’s clothing.

You wondered where the jewellery was that Bucky had taken off you as you slipped down the stairs to the main floor, following the deep voices. He didn’t need the money from pawning them off but you certainly would if you planned to make a life outside of the mafia. You would ask him at some point, but for now you wanted to know exactly who Bucky was, the type of man he was.

“Well, that didn’t go to plan.” Steve took a seat and sipped his whiskey before he spoke again, “That asshole is still alive and everyone thinks you kidnap women now.”

Bucky huffed a laugh and dropped into his own seat, swirling his own drink around the crystal tumbler as he pondered the turn of events. “It could work in our favour, it certainly sends a statement.”

“Buck, I have never questioned your orders-”

“Please don’t start now,” Bucky interrupted before he rolled his eyes and tipped his head back, waving his hand to let Steve finish.

“That woman asleep in your bed is going to be more trouble than she is worth. He’s going to come for her.”

Bucky’s lips twitched and Steve heard the words that went unsaid, ‘I know’.

“Did you plan this?”

“No,” Bucky admitted as he reached over to the cigar box on the side table. “But I wish I had thought of it. Do you know what his investors will be thinking - the great Brock Rumlow can’t even protect his own wife. They will question his capability.”

“I am not his wife and I never will be,” you vowed with absolute certainty, appearing barefoot in the doorway. “I will die before facing that fate.”

Bucky took your seething words in stride, closing the cigar box and curling his finger to beckon you into the room before patting the cushion beside him. You hadn’t felt threatened by him or any of his men since they saved you so you had no reason to distrust him and quickly crossed the room.

His smile disarmed you as you sat beside him and he trailed his fingertips lazily across the hem of his shirt riding high on your thighs. “After that display of courage today I am inclined to believe you. Not many women would run towards armed strangers.”

“When life gives you lemons,” you murmured, ignoring the heat that was quickly spreading beneath his light touch.

His deep laugh blew warm air across your neck as he leant in closer and spoke with a soft intimacy that shouldn’t have been heard outside the bedroom. “Is that what I am? Lemonade?”

“I guess that depends on how sweet you are.” The sassy words flowed from your tongue unconsciously but the moment they were voiced you bowed your head and murmured an apology.

“It’s late, Steve, go home. I’ll see you in the morning.” Quiet footsteps retreated from the room followed by the definitive click of the door shutting behind him. Your pulse thrummed like a hummingbird as you screwed your eyes shut and waited for the sharp burn of a slap to heat your skin. But it didn’t come. “Open your eyes.”

It took a moment to gather the courage before you could open them and face your punishment. Blinking twice, you were certain your eyes were deceiving you as you saw pity instead of rage, and Bucky reached out slowly to graze the back of his knuckles across your cheeks.

“What did he do to you?” Those azure eyes of his seemed to shred through your physical being and see the broken soul that lay beneath. The intensity of his stare drew tears to the surface, blurring your vision as they erased the composure you had bitterly fought to hold. “I’ll kill him.”

He thumbed away the tears that escaped down your cheeks but more replaced them as you shook your head. “You can’t kill him.”

Bucky smiled darkly, his lips so close to your skin as he whispered his secret in your ear, “He doesn’t know it, doll, but he’s already dead.”

“He has half a dozen men with him at all times, his house practically has an army surrounding it and they monitor the surveillance cameras 24/7.” You sighed and looked away to hide the bitter disappointment written on your face. “Trust me, he’s impossible to kill.”

“He bleeds red just like you and I, so he can die just the same.” Bucky rose from the seat and offered you his hand. “It’s late, we can talk more in the morning.”

You stared at his hand a moment before looking up at Bucky and asking the question that had been building since he sequestered you away from the church. “Why are you doing this for me?”

“A man of my position can hardly be called altruistic, but the way you looked at me today…I wanted to be worth that look of hope.”

He wiggled his fingers and you placed yours on them, letting him pull you from the couch and against his chest. He dipped his head and quickly kissed the racing pulse in your neck, so fast you could have almost imagined it. He stepped back and let his lips curve into a playful smile that had you press your toes into the carpet to stop them curling. “Plus, I couldn’t stand to see a beautiful woman in such a hideous dress.”

You covered your face with an embarrassed laugh while you nodded in agreement. “I know, it was criminal how bad it was. Thank you for tearing it off me.”

He caught his bottom lip between his teeth and your stomach clenched at the mischievous glint in his eyes as he bowed. “I am humbly at your service.”

It was hard to believe that this man was the head of the Romanian mafia in New York, he was just so different to Brock. He made you smile. “I’m not sure you know the meaning of humble.”

You were struck again by that warm laugh of his as he led the way from the room and up the stairs. Although the house was huge and there were a handful of closed doors along the hall that likely hid ornate guest bedrooms, Bucky opened his and ushered you through. Your eyes darted to the bed, still messy from where you had slept between the sheets, and Bucky smirked as he began to remove the cufflinks on his shirt.

“Don’t worry, sweetheart, I won’t do anything you don’t ask me to,” he said.

You couldn’t look away as he took his shirt off and you saw every inch of that hard muscle you had crashed into, the tanned expanse of his skin sculpted like the depiction of gods you had seen in a museum. The dark curls that trickled down the centre of his chest teased a line that disappeared below the belt that he was unbuckling and you tore yourself away, ignoring the chuckle that followed you.

“You can look, I don’t mind.”

The belt landed beside you on the loveseat and you flinched at the sight, twisting away to find Bucky frozen. He looked back at the belt with narrowed eyes and cursed under his breath before swiping it up and tossing it to the back of his closet and running his hands roughly through his hair. He tugged the ends with barely controlled rage but dropped them to his side when he saw your wary step towards the door.

“I’m not going to hurt you, doll,” he said gently.

You looked at the rug on the floor and focused on how the bright colours came together to form the beautiful design as you spoke, “You are angry.”

“Yes, but not at you.” Bucky sat on the edge of his bed, his tall frame no longer so imposing. “My mother had a boyfriend who…he was cruel and a sick piece of shit. I was young, too young to do anything to stop him and one night he just didn’t stop.”

His eyes looked straight ahead but you had stared into the past enough times to know where he truly was. You weren’t even sure if he noticed when you took a seat beside him and placed your hand in his, your thumb caressing his with a comfort you wished someone had given you.

“I’m sorry about your mother,” you whispered.

“I killed him. Took everything that was his, all of this, and I killed him,” Bucky said with a catch in his voice that he cleared before turning to you. “I’m going to hell for an infinite number of sins but killing him isn’t one, and neither will be watching the life bleed from Brock fucking Rumlow’s eyes when I gut him for what he did.”

For the first time in your life you didn’t shirk at the threat of violence, your hands didn’t shake and your skin wasn’t clammy. The small voice in your head that had abandoned you when Brock first laid his hands on you whispered that Bucky was different, that after watching his mother’s assault he would never turn his anger on you, and you believed it. And that thought scared you more than anything.

Bucky watched you silently, as if he could see every thought passing through your mind and saw the moment you needed a distraction from your own mind. “Big spoon or little spoon?”

You frowned as your thoughts were derailed and you blinked his handsome face back into focus. “Spoon?”

Bucky shrugged casually. “I’m a sleep spooner. So, which would you rather be?”

“I don’t even know what that means. Are you propositioning me?”

Bucky laughed before sobering up when you remained serious, then that scowl of his that you had come to notice only appeared when he thought about Brock. “Motherfucker.” Bucky stood up and kicked his trousers off before pulling the sheets back. “Hop in, sweetheart, let me show you what you’re missing.”

You stared at the space he offered beside him and wondered what he was really asking of you. Was this a ploy to use you? Brock had used sex as a means of blackmail and to undermine not just you but the wives of his officers. Could it be a trait shared among the bosses?

“Spooning isn’t a sex position, if that’s the reason you’re looking at me like that. I mean, it could be, but only if you ask nicely.”

The teasing smile eased your mind and you climbed into the space beside him. His body curled against you and his scent enveloped you in a comforting cocoon, even when your spine stiffened at the proximity.

“Roll onto your side, sweetheart,” Bucky murmured as he gently pushed you away. You did as you were told and turned away but the shirt shifted and slipped over the curve of your hip, baring the result of Brock’s violent touch. You tried to grasp at the hem as panic and shame swelled in your chest but it was too late, Bucky caught your wrist and moved it away.

His touch was hesitant but gentle as he brushed his fingertips over the swollen, bruised skin. The tenderness was a juxtaposition to Brock’s savage sadism and a wave of fresh tears filled your eyes as you experienced kindness. You couldn’t remember the last time you felt it.

“It wasn’t your fault,” Bucky murmured softly as he brushed your shirt higher. “None of this is your fault, no matter what that sick bastard has told you.”

You buried your face in the pillow as you heard the words you had tried to cling to in the early days. But months into being Brock’s personal toy, to play with as he pleased, made you think you must have done something to deserve such a fate.

“Tell me to stop, and I will stop.” Bucky’s fingers trailed higher, taking your shirt with them. “No hesitation, no question, no repercussions.”

The word danced on your tongue but you bit it as his thumbs drew soft shapes along the canvas that had been ruined. You weren’t sure when you would feel a gentle touch again so you were going to savour the moment, even if it only lasted one night. “Don’t stop.”

Your body was still stiff and tense, the muscle memory struggling to differentiate the feel of his hands on your skin as it waited for the pain to begin.

“Some of these are old, weeks,” Bucky muttered to himself as he shifted down the bed and rolled you onto your back, looking between the different shades of bruises. “Did your father know that this has been happening?”

“He knew enough to ensure Brock couldn’t use a knife or flame.” It was meant to keep you safer, or at least not permanently maimed, but the restrictions only made Brock angrier. He spent that anger in the only currency he could, with his fist. “Beyond that, I don’t think he cared. The only thing he cares about is money and power.”

“Do you want me to kill him too?” There was no judgement in his eyes as he waited for an answer, he was probably planning it from the moment he stepped into the church, but he was giving you the option. The choice was entirely yours, but you weren’t sure if you had the stomach to give him the answer and he saw your hesitation. “Whenever you are ready, just say the words.”

You bobbed your head, not trusting your voice when you could feel the lump of emotion stuck in your throat.

The tension in your body began to ease as you grew accustomed to the soft, teasing touches of his fingertips and when he brushed his lips over the tender skin across your ribs you actually moaned. The sound was so foreign it took a moment to realise that it came from your lips.

Bucky peeped up from under thick lashes and he smiled at the sound, moving to kiss another bruise as if his lips could erase the memory of Brock from you entirely. “I wonder what other sweet sounds those pretty lips can make,” he mused aloud.

Your head was spinning as you melted beneath him and after he pulled his shirt off you, tossing it to the floor, you made no move to stop him from removing your lace panties. You intrinsically knew if you asked him, he would stop - you were letting him show you how pleasurable touch could be.

Compliments fell from his lips that devoured every inch of you and his blue eyes bled to black as his pupils exploded when he saw your nipples peaked and begging for his tongue. Your back arched with a cry when he took one in his mouth, licking and sucking at the sensitive nub before he gently grazed his teeth over it.

“Bucky, please,” you begged as you buried your fingers in his dark hair, needing more of the ecstasy he was giving you.

More than willing, Bucky moved between your legs and pressed his erection against your core. A throaty moan purred from you and you wrapped your legs around his hips, grinding yourself shamelessly and finding the only barrier stopping you from what you wanted was the thin pair of boxers he still wore.

“Tell me what you want, doll.” Bucky whispered between the kisses he trailed up the column of your neck and towards your parted lips.

“Everything,” you moaned. “Show me everything.”

Two Weeks Later

“Rumlow’s got every one of his men out looking for her, poking their head in our business, asking about a ransom. They are starting to cause some real problems, for not just us, but the Cartel too.” Steve looked wary as he sat in his usual seat. “Tell me you have a plan.”

“I have a plan,” Bucky said, running his thumb across his bottom lip with a dark smile. “I need you to get a message to Brock, if he wants a ransom then he can have it.”

Steve pulled his phone from his pocket to reach out to the contacts that would get the message across but frowned before he could hit the call. “How much?”

Bucky shrugged and made his way to the door. “Pick a number, it doesn’t matter.”

“What do you mean it doesn’t matter?” Steve asked but Bucky didn’t answer, he was already heading back up the stairs where you were still sleeping soundly.

A warm arm curled around your waist and you smiled as you woke to a pair of cerulean eyes watching you. You no longer startled awake, not after the first few mornings of waking in Bucky’s arms. You still occasionally jumped at an unexpected touch but even that reflex was beginning to be controlled. You were healing.

“I want to take you out, go shopping, have dinner, do whatever you want.” Bucky said as he pulled you against his chest and rested his head on yours.

“I do too,” you whispered. It was a nice dream but the reality was you would never have that freedom so long as Brock was alive and looking for you.

“I’m going to take you out, sweetheart. I just need you to trust me first.”

You tipped your head back to see him with a faraway look in his eyes, stroking his short beard to draw his attention away from that calculating place it had gone to. “I do trust you, Bucky, more than I have ever trusted anyone. I know you do bad things, I’m not naive, but you have only been good to me.” You ran your thumb over his lips, remembering the feel of them on your lips, on your skin, between your legs. “I trust you.”

“Good,” Bucky’s tone didn’t sound happy like you expected when he spoke, “because I sent that bastard a ransom.”

A phantom hand wrapped around your throat but Bucky was there, soothing words and calming hands rubbing your back to chase away the rising panic. “Shhh, I’m not going to let him hurt you again, he’s not going to hurt anyone again.”

You let his words sink in and quell the uprising panic, slowing your breathing to match his before you could speak, “You’re going to kill him?”

“I am.”

“How?”

Bucky licked his lips before answering, “Steve will negotiate a handover to your father, the money in exchange for you, somewhere neutral.”

“How are you going to kill him there? And who's to say he will even show up if I’m to go with my father?” You pushed yourself up so you weren’t distracted by his touch. “He will have a small army with him.”

“Brock is a control freak, there’s no way he would miss out on the exchange, he will want to see it with his own eyes.” Bucky sat up to mirror you. “And while he and his small army are otherwise occupied, I’m going to go to make myself at home. That’s where I need your help.”

And helping Bucky is exactly what you did. You gave him the layout of the house, and the gardens, drawing a map so he could plan his break in and where to hide, lying in wait for Brock to return with you. When there was no other information you could think of, you sat back and asked the question that was burning in your brain, “What happens to me?”

Bucky placed his pen down upon the papers and looked into the flames of the fire warming his study. “You will be free.”

It was all you ever wanted but an ache grew in your chest at the idea of leaving Bucky and you had to look away before you asked your next question that you weren’t ready to hear the answer to. “Okay.”

The decision was made two days later, when both parties finally agreed on a disused parking lot far enough from both of their territories that it was considered neutral and also open enough that there couldn’t be an ambush set. Those two days were the worst you had experienced and just the idea of eating anything made you sick with the somersaults and knots in your tummy. Your palms were constantly clammy and not even Bucky’s ministrations could distract you from the fear of facing your abuser again.

“I’m calling it off,” Bucky announced as he settled into bed on the eve of the exchange. “I’ll find another way that doesn’t involve you.”

“It’s all set, Bucky, you can’t cancel now.”

“I can and I will,” he countered. “All the progress you were making…I shouldn’t have asked you to get involved.”

Your hands still shook but you placed them on his anyway. “I don’t want to spend the rest of my life looking over my shoulder, waiting for the day he finds me and drags me back to that place. I have to do this, it is my choice, please don’t take that away from me.”

His eyes screwed shut in defeat because no matter how much he might want to protect you, the trust he had built with you had been laid on the foundations of the freedom to choose. He would never take that away and you knew it. “You should rest, it’s a big day tomorrow.”

You smiled, falling back into the pillows and taking him with you. “I’m not tired.”

Bucky’s teeth flashed with a wicked grin and his hand slid up beneath the hem of his shirt you wore, freezing when it reached the apex of your thighs and finding it bare. “Naughty girl.”

You arched under his touch, his finger gliding between your slick folds before reaching your clit and teasing it with your own arousal. He knew your body better than you did as he made you praise his name with just a few strokes of those thick digits, plunging them into your pussy and curling them to that sweet spot that made you see stars.

“Please, Bucky, I need more than your fingers.”

He chuckled disappeared between your legs, his broad shoulders spreading your knees wide before his tongue delved into your cunt. Your legs trembled as his mouth set fire to your core and he kissed you just as thoroughly as he did with your mouth, dominant and full of tongue.

His name was a prayer on your lips when he brought you to the edge only to pull away before you could come. He could feel the frustration radiating from you when he kissed your inner thigh and murmured, “Patience, doll, when you come I want to feel it around my cock.” He kicked his boxers off and then he was there, filling your vision and sharing a kiss that tasted of your liquid delight.

You both moaned as your tongues danced and his cock stretched your entrance as it filled you. His hips met yours and the orgasm that had been close crashed over you, the bump of pressure on your clit enough to tip you over, but he didn’t stop. You couldn’t tell when one orgasm ended and another began, it was wave after wave slamming into your body and blinding you with the pleasure Bucky had opened your eyes too.

“Fuck, you feel so good, sweetheart,” Bucky praised breathlessly as your walls fluttered and clamped down with each orgasm, the feeling as close to heaven as a man like him would get. “You’re a goddamn angel.”

He was close to finishing; his revered rambling and the loss of his steady rhythm was something you had come to learn quickly in sharing his bed. He would always set your heart racing with the sweet nonsense he whispered in those final moments.

His body shuddered and the pulsing of his cock buried within you sent another tremor of aftershocks through your core before he collapsed above you, resting his head in the valley of your breasts. There was never a hurry with Bucky, and it was this moment that you savoured - when he listened to your heart beat and his thumbs drew mindless circles on your sensitive skin.

“I could stay like this for eternity,” Bucky said as he gently blew cool air across your nipple and smiled as the skin prickled into goosebumps. “I love the way you respond to me.”

You combed your fingers through his hair but kept your own admissions to yourself, knowing this was the last night you would spend in his embrace. Tomorrow, if all went to plan, you would be free.

All too soon Bucky’s cock slipped from your body and you immediately missed the fullness and warmth as his cum ran down your thighs. His eyes watched with hunger and pride as he knelt between your legs and watched it leak from your core, his bottom lip fiercely caught between his teeth.

“Come on, let's get you cleaned up.” The begrudging tone brought a smile to your lips and you accepted his hand as he pulled you up and led the way to the bathroom. “We really should try to get some sleep before tomorrow.”

“Relax, Bucky’s the smartest man I know,” Steve said, looking across from the driver's seat. “He’s got everything all planned out.”

“It doesn’t make the waiting any easier.” You wished Bucky was with you instead of Steve, he would have held your hand and squeezed it reassuringly. You looked at the clock for the millionth time and found only one more minute had passed. “Where are they?”

Steve nodded his head to the southern entrance of the disused parking lot and you spotted the line of blacked out SUVs pulling in, parking in a perfect symmetry to Steve and his men. “How many times have you done this?” you asked as they all opened their doors at some silent signal.

“Enough.”

It took all your willpower not to vomit on the asphalt as you put one foot in front of the other, Steve’s hand coming to rest on your lower back where your hands were fastened by cable ties. It was the first time you had voluntarily let the restraints be placed on you and hopefully it would be the last.

It was Steve’s hand that stopped you from recoiling when you saw Brock step out of his car and start strolling towards you, looking for all intents and purposes as if he was out for a relaxing walk. Your footsteps stumbled and Steve urged you under his breath to calm down as he kept you upright, but that was when you saw your father and the smirk playing on his lips - like he had won.

“Steve, I need you to get a message to Bucky.” Time was running out but you finally had your answer. “Tell him I have no father.”

Steve frowned down at you. “What do you mean?”

“Bucky will understand, that’s all that matters.” You took a steadying breath and focused on your feet. “I know you weren’t happy when Bucky saved me, but thank you anyway.”

“I could argue that you saved him,” Steve admitted quietly. “I don’t think he had any plans to walk out of that church alive - he was looking for absolution by dragging as many of Brock’s men down with him. So, I should thank you. Now scowl and turn to your fiance, he has to believe this.”

The scowl was very real but it wasn’t aimed at Steve.

“One million dollars,” your father said as he stepped forward and dropped a duffle bag at Steve’s feet. “Do you want to count it?”

“I don’t think that’s necessary,” Steve said with a smirk. “If it’s not all there then you will know about it very soon.”

You stepped forward when Steve patted your back gently, swiping the handles of the bag up after you passed it and waited stiffly at your fathers side. “What now?”

Your father sneered down at you and Steve fisted the bag tighter to fight the urge to steal you back. “Someone has to repay Brock for his generosity, that is a lot of money to drop on one woman. Go and show your gratitude to your future husband.”

Bile rose and you swallowed deeply as you walked away from the safety of Bucky’s men and deeper into the army of demons that Brock commanded. The devil himself smiled with a baring of teeth and he opened the passenger door for you, his leering eyes mentally stripping the clothes from your body. “Welcome home, my little pet.”

Bucky will be there. Bucky will be there. Bucky will be there.

You wouldn’t face this alone. That is what you repeatedly told yourself as you climbed into the SUV, jolting at the sound of the door slamming shut.

Bucky will be there. Bucky will be there. Bucky will be there.

Your heart threatened to jump right out of your chest when the SUV turned into the driveway, stopping at the gates so that security could let him through. The drive had been silent but you had noticed the many SUV’s hadn’t followed Brock’s. A part of Bucky’s plan - they were suddenly finding themselves occupied by Steve and his men.

Bucky will be there. Bucky will be there. Bucky will be there.

Brock’s hand was a shackle around your wrist, leading you to the master suite, leading you to your future or doom.

The door was still swinging shut when Brock’s hand tightened around your wrist, spinning you towards the bed and pushing you onto your back before you could regain your balance. “Did he touch you?” There was no room to recoil from Brock’s spitting question as he pressed you into the mattress with his weight on top of you.

One hand snaked up your body and wrapped around your throat and your hips bucked to try to move him as his other hand spread your legs. Tears blurred your vision as Brock growled at the tight jeans kept him from easily taking what he wanted, a reason he never let you wear them when he was around. “Did he touch you?”

Your lungs were burning with the need to breathe but Brock was relentless. Where was Bucky? You had trusted him to be here, he was meant to be here.

The weight was suddenly lifted as Brock was thrown off you and you gasped at the air you could finally pull into your lungs. Bucky’s knife glinted on the floor where he must have dropped it to tackle Brock and now they were grappling on the carpet, raining fists upon each other while you tried to swallow the screams that were brewing.

Bucky slumped to the side when Brock’s fist connected with his temple and you cried out when he swayed trying to rise. You couldn’t sit by and watch the only man who stood up for you die because of that honour so you crawled to his side and curled up against him.

“How sweet,” Brock scoffed, kicking Bucky’s limp foot. “I always knew you were a whore and you know what I do to whores.”

You shuddered at the thought of him strapping you to his table in the basement and taking his time as he marked you with a knife or flame. No one would find your body, no one ever found the girls that were taken out of the basement in the dead of night. That was not going to be how your life ended, you had suffered enough.

“Get away from him. You belong to me.” Brock snapped his fingers and pointed to his shoes, like he was calling a disobedient dog to his side.

Something snapped and your fingers curled around Bucky’s knife as you looked at Brock’s cold, empty eyes. “I belong to no one.”

Brock spotted the knife as you pulled it out and held it at arm's length, the blade pointed to your heart and he lunged as he realised you were going to take away his playtoy. Your body shifted suddenly and the pain in your ribs flared but it wasn’t Brock that had pushed you but Bucky. With a burst of energy he knocked you aside and tore the knife from your hands, deftly spinning it and greeting Brock.

Shock flitted across Brock’s face that ended up so close to yours that you could feel his ragged breaths on your cheek. His lips parted but whatever spiteful words he had to say were lost when Bucky shoved the knife up and into his heart. You could hardly think as Brock’s blue eyes dulled and he was pushed away onto his back, knife still buried in his chest.

Dead, the monster was finally dead.

“Bucky?” His eyes were blinking hard as if to help him focus the stars that were loitering his vision but he managed to pull himself to his feet and help you to yours. “Are you alright?”

Bucky ignored you and looked to the door. “We need to get out of here before anyone comes to investigate the noise.”

You placed a hand on his chest so he stopped and looked at you. “No one will come, they are used to it.”

Bucky closed his eyes and dropped his forehead to yours. “You were going to kill yourself.” His voice broke and he wrapped his arms around you, needing the embrace as much as you did.

“You saved me, Bucky, again.” You pulled away before you could let the flood of tears run free, knowing there was still another battle to face. “Let’s go.”

You looked back as your fingers curled around the door handle, taking one last look at Brock as his blood turned the white carpet red. You should have been paying attention ahead but you crashed into a startled maid with an armful of lace underwear you knew he had ordered for you.

The maid's eyes went wide as she saw Bucky standing behind you, then saw Brock dead on the floor, his lifeless eyes staring at the ceiling. You could feel Bucky reaching into his pocket where his knife had hidden after retrieving it from Brock’s chest but he stopped when the maid dropped the lace, stepped away and whispered, “Go, quick.”

You rushed past her and Bucky quickly moved in front of you in case anyone else showed up unexpectedly, his limp barely noticeable as adrenaline chased away the pain. When you turned back she was already closing the door and using a universal key to lock it from the outside. No one would dare disturb Brock if his door was locked, it meant he was playing.

“Left,” you whispered to Bucky as reached the end of the hall, “there’s a false door beside the laundry.”

He turned without hesitation and when he reached the laundry he took a defensive position while you moved in. This door was only to be used if there was a police raid and very few people could access it, but as Brock’s significant other you were one of them. You opened the false panel and pressed your palm to the scanner, sighing with relief that they hadn’t cancelled it when you were kidnapped.

You let Bucky enter, then followed and closed the door behind you. “It’s about a mile to the river, can you manage it?”

“I’ll be fine,” Bucky assured you, taking your hand and pressing a kiss to it. “How are you?” His fingers traced over the bruises that would surely start to bloom across your throat.

You thought of the dead man lying in his own blood upstairs and smiled despite the aches that plagued your body. “Never been better.”

Bucky looked down the empty tunnel, every fibre of his being telling him to start moving but he needed to do one thing first. His arm curled around your waist and pulled you against him as his lips crushed yours in a devouring kiss that you couldn't help but surrender yourself to. “I..I’m so proud of you, doll. You faced your fear, there’s nothing holding you back now.”

You nodded with a tight smile that you didn’t feel. You had quietly hoped he would ask you to stay, even though you had said that you wanted to be free of the mafia from the very start. You didn’t want to be free of him. “I’m proud of you too, your plan really worked.”

“We aren’t out of it yet,” Bucky said at the reminder, lacing his fingers with yours and beginning the walk to freedom.

It was dark when you emerged from the tunnels to find two unrecognisable cars parked outside. Fear coiled in your belly at the thought that the single taste of fresh air and freedom would be all you had but the door opened and Steve stepped out.

“I was getting worried,” Steve admitted as he greeted Bucky with a hug and sent you a smile. “The money is in the car, it’s all clean and counted, and the package is in this trunk.”

Bucky took the keys and placed them in your palm, the metal cool against the warmth where his hand had been. “Take this, sweetheart, take the car, the money and start a life somewhere far from here. You deserve to be happy.”

Your lips parted but he was already moving towards the trunk of Steve’s car, where muffled cries had erupted from. The words were lost as Bucky opened the back and pulled your father from the back - his eyes widening when he spotted you. The cries increased as he fought against the hold Bucky had but Bucky didn’t notice, he was watching you, silently asking if you had changed your mind.

You shook your head and turned away.

The gunshot was deafening against the quiet night on the edge of the city and you jumped at the sudden sound but refused to turn and see the face of the man who should have protected you from the moment you were born. He had betrayed you in the worst ways and you had no space in your heart to feel anything for him.

As the ringing in your ears dimmed, you heard Steve talking quietly to Bucky, quietly but sternly. Intrigue begged you to try and listen closer but you gripped the jangling keys tighter and tried to push it into the keyhole with trembling fingers.

Footsteps approached and you froze as Bucky’s hand wrapped around yours, guiding it to the door and turning the key to unlock it. His lips brushed your ear as he leaned in close and breathlessly begged you, “Ask me.” He turned you in his arms and pleaded with eyes deeper than the ocean. “Ask me to come with you.”

The words came easily, rolling off your tongue like silk. “Come with me, Bucky.”

“Ok.” His lips curled up into a smile and he reached past you to open the door. “Do you trust me?”

You grinned back as you accepted his hand to ease you into the seat painlessly. “With my life.”

“Good,” Bucky said before racing around the car and slipping into the driver's seat. “This is going to be one hell of an adventure.”

#mafia!bucky #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x poc!reader #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes x you #bucky fanfiction #tw: domestic violence #tw: abuse

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aryuunachigiri · 9 months

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pleasepleaseplease tag your non-reader friendly posts correctly, I'm tired of thinking one post is an "x reader" but the mc is an oc 🥲🥲🥲🥲

yes we can just imagine ourselves in the oc's place but I'm telling y'all it doesn't hit as hard as reader-insert's 😓

actually this is kinda all applies under the not tagged correctly posts where they get tagged as "male" reader but the content in it is afab 😢 or the non gender-neutral ones getting tagged in a gendered post

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missacidburn928s-heathenhideaway · 5 months

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Affinity Series Masterlist

Alpha!Bucky x Sweet Little Omega!POC!Reader

Alpha!Steve x Sweet Little Omega!POC!Reader

Alpha!Bucky x Sweet Little Omega!POC!Reader x Alpha!Steve

Summary:

Snapshots and moments between Alpha Bucky and his sweet little Omega Edit: This duo turned into a throuple thanks to a certain Captain. So there will be snapshots between Alpha Steve and their sweet little Omega both all together and separate mixed in. (Also the Steve in series is very much an undercover perv. It's a headcanon of mine that I love) There is no chronological order to this series so if you only want to read about one pairing you'll easily be able to do so.

Warnings:

18+ MDNI, Smut, Fluff, Angst, Poly, A/B/O, additional tags per installment.

Bannner by @cafekitsune Divider by @firefly-graphics

Current Total Wordcount: 37,659

Current Installments: 11

Status: Ongoing

INSTALLMENTS:

Honey I'm Home: Alpha!Bucky x Sweet Little Omega!POC!Reader

Hearts are wild creatures, that’s why our ribs are cages: Alpha!Bucky x Sweet Little Omega!POC!Reader

Intoxicating. That's What You Are: Alpha!Bucky x Sweet Little Omega!POC!Reader

Best Served Hot: Alpha!Bucky x Sweet Little Omega!POC!Reader x Alpha!Steve

Oh, I'm A Mess…: Alpha!Bucky x Sweet Little Omega!POC!Reader, Alpha!Bucky x Sweet Little Omega!POC!Reader x Alpha!Steve

On The Line: Alpha!Steve x Sweet Little Omega!POC!Reader, Alpha!Bucky x Sweet Little Omega!POC!Reader x Alpha!Steve

I'll open the sky for you. Set the rain on fire: Alpha!Bucky x Sweet Little Omega!POC!Reader

Keep Your Eyes On Me…: Alpha!Steve x Sweet Little Omega!POC!Reader, Alpha!Bucky x Sweet Little Omega!POC!Reader x Alpha!Steve

We All Go A Little Mad Sometimes: Alpha!Bucky x Sweet Little Omega!POC!Reader x Alpha!Steve

If You Want To Taste The Universe. Just Kiss her…: Alpha!Bucky x Sweet Little Omega!POC!Reader

Mess With The Best. Die Like The Rest: Alpha!Bucky x Sweet Little Omega!POC!Reader x Alpha!Steve

#poc reader #avengers smut #abo au #abo dynamics #alpha bucky x omega reader #alpha steve x omega reader #alpha bucky x omega reader x alpha steve #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes smut #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers smut

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missacidburn928 · 9 months

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"You drive me fucking crazy you know that."

"Me, drive you crazy. Hnf. You have got to be kidding me. How in the hell do I drive you crazy huh?"

"You want the whole list or just the highlights?"

"I'm a big girl. Hit me with your number one grievance."

"You asked for it." He shakes his head and losens his shoulders. "It drives me up a wall when you bring home these assholes. And you're all giggly and aroused dragging them to your room. Where I'm stuck listening to you make the most sinfuls sounds that my dick cant help but stand at attention to. It drives me crazy that I'm jealous over the fact I'm not the one pulling all those beautiful moans from your body. It drives me crazy that I stroke my cock in time with whatever rhythm the douche between your legs has going so that I can cum when you do. It drives me crazy that your. Still. Not. Mine."

I watch his chest rise and fall with the extertion of his impassioned confession. Fists clenching and unclenching.

"We should rectify that then."

His jaw ticks. Tongue quickly running along across his bottom lip before he bites it. "I'd advise you not to tease me right now."

"Who's teasing?" With no preamble, I proceed to take my shirt off. The only piece of clothing I currently have on.

His eyes dilate before me. Taking his time as he preuses my exposed flesh. With a growl he steps forward. Placing my face bewteen his large hands and landing a devastating kiss to my lips.

It's all consuming. A release of every held back emotion and pent up sexual tension.

My new addiction.

When it feels as if my lungs might explode from lack of oxygen, he pulls back.

His handsome face is adorned with the devilsh of smiles. "Your room or mine?"

#poc reader #jax teller x reader #curtis everett x reader #bucky barnes x reader #walter marshall x reader

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cattordi · 2 years

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a/n i may start writing again whoooo knowwws???

summary chris is announced sexiest man alive and you show him much you appreciate his sexiness

pairings chris evans x notfamous!reader

warnings smut, tons of praise, oral sex, kinda un accurate bc i’m not familiar w/ how ppl are named certain titles/given awards, not proof read, fluff etc. 18+ MINORS DNI

literal sexiest man alive

“i just got named “sexiest man alive.” chris says as you walk back in the room. dodger is laying at the foot of the bed and chris is standing as he just walked into your bathroom into your room with sweat pants that lay low on his waist.

his body is covered in tattoo, which is one of your favorite physical features about him. “are you serious? congratulations baby!” you say as you give him a long kiss. his hand slides from your back down to your butt as you break the kiss.

“it should’ve been ‘hottest couple alive’ like cindy crawford and richard gere that one year.” chris says and you laugh. “um for 1. they split like a year after names that and 2. no one knows me or that you’re with me.”

at that moment dodger hops off the bed and heads out the room, his tail wagging behind him. “im proud of you though.” you say and plop another kiss on his full lips before attempting to break from his grasp. he holds onto your waist tightly with a faint smirk.

“chris, why do you have that look?” you ask and he hums. “what look?”

“the look you make when you want to say something, but you won’t.”

“i wanna celebrate.” he says and you gleam with approval. “glad you can get your words out hun.” you say teasingly and he grabs your ass hard.

you kiss him again, this time for longer so he picks you up. “i’m so proud of you.” you say between kisses as chris lays you onto the bed.

he leads a trail of kisses down your sheer tank top that your nipples are straining against. “thank you.” he hums as he pulls your shirt up exposing your breast. “you’re the sexiest woman alive.”

he takes your nipple into your mouth and slides his huge hand into your shorts rubbing your clit; starting slow but getting faster with every moan you let out.

“look at me baby, look at me.” chris pleads and you do. your eyes meet his as he slides your pants downs your legs and to your ankles.

when his warm breath hits your throbbing clit, shivers zoom up your spine. “you’re so gorgeous baby; so gorgeous.”

his praise gets you off just ask much as his mouth on you. he always says the right things and always hits the right spots.

“i’m coming.” you say and chris continues licking and rubbing at the same pace. when you come, your vision becomes white and you see stars.

“you taste so good baby.“ chris says as you come, “so fucking good”

when you come down from your high, chris’ pants are off, which you assume came off when he was eating you out. he takes himself into his hand and strokes slowly watching you.

“let me taste you chris.” you say but he shakes his head. “i need to be in you now.”

opening your legs, chris gets a full view of your throwing pussy which makes his harder than ever. “i’m about to fuck the shit out of your pretty pussy.”

you mean lightly as he positions himself between your legs and pushes in. though you’ve been with him for 2 years, you’re still not used to his size.

“you’re so fucking big chris,” you moan out as he starts moving at a slow pace.

his hips thrust and his movements starts to get faster. the sounds of both of your panting and praises fill the room. “you’re so tight hun, goddamn” chris says and a bit of his boston accent slips out.

“right there chris.” you say just as he hits the right spot. you’re vision fades again and you arch your back as you moan loudly.

at the sight of you coming on him, chris comes with you causing his thrust to slow down and him to fall onto you, leaving wet kisses on your forehead.

“you’re so fucking beautiful.” chris says.

“yeah but you’re the sexiest man alive.”

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curvykittyyssmutfics · 10 months

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A random au where bucky is a car mechanic who is fixing his single sexy next neighbor, reader's car. She was wearing slightly revealing clothes to want to get banged by bucky. Luckily it work!!!

The Piper: paid

A/N: Soooooooo fucking sorry about the time in between my last post my wonderful people. Doing my absolute best to make lemonade outta the lemons life keeps whippin at the back of my damn head. Anyway, next story will also be a request as I have so many to get done. Probs won't be doing any thing else till I get those done. Anyway.. On to the fic! Enjoy!

"Dammit!"

Bucky's frustrated outburst, along with something metal clattering against his garage floor is audible as I walk up his long, wide, driveway. Listening to him grumble aggressively about "a piece of shit black lil mercedes" makes me chuckle heartily to my self. Expletives about the damage I staged seems to be most common, along with a couple grunts from an unknown task clearly exerting his strength.

The way his breath puffs out entices the introverted slut in me to visualize him underneath me in immense bliss while I ride his dick to my satisfaction, those heavy huffing pants spilling from his lips. Hopefully today's the day I make my dreams come true.

Looking left to right, I notice there's not a soul outside at the moment. That just means step one of my plan is already in action. The dainty diamond rolex on my wrist confirms it's 5pm. Right on time to get fucked and filled with Bucky's nut till it leaks in my panties. Mmmm... Can't wait to rub em all over my pussy later; his milky cream acting as lube while I make myself cum so fuckin hard. I'm lickin my full heart shaped lips in anticipation while plottin on this poor unsuspectin man.

Passing by his new deep blue jaguar, I run a finger along its pristine paint job as I spot Bucky on a creeper underneath my Mercedes. He takes that moment to run a hand through his fresh cut dark locks while wishing it absolute death. It's impossible not to feel a smidge of guilt at the purposeful trouble Bucky's going through at the moment but if everything goes my way, I fully intend to make it up to him by the end of the evening. Shit, hopefully multiple times this evening. It's outta my power not to smile wide at the way my soakin wet pussy flutters at the thought.

Leaning against his ride with palms flat on the hood, I eye fuck my prize thoroughly. Daddy looks so fucking good in his fitted navy blue tee and snug black jeans on his back, his muscled thighs spread wide. The bottom of his shirt lifts a bit to reveal a peek of his firm, incredibly toned tummy as his hips jut upwards. Dark brown boots spread apart wide when he repositions himself, and the fat ass bulge in between his legs grabs my attention real quick.

I'm so fuckin horny just from starin at Bucky, that I gotta squeeze my thighs together for just even a hint of pressure on my pulsating center. My shorts are past drenched where they rest sticky against me. The arousal drippin out plasters my brown thick thighs as my needy little cunt clenches rapidly around nothing. My nipples are so fuckin hard from lightly rubbing against the extremely transparent fit I chose just for him.

"Hey Buck, whats the progress on my baby?" I finally grab his attention as I drum my glossy short jet black nails on the hood of his car.

The wheels on the creeper squeak as he rolls from underneath the source of his current troubles and stands. His eyes focus on the black grime on his hands and he heads to the small sink in the corner of his garage as he responds.

"Woman, I don't know how you manage to damage something on this vehicle every week but it's gotta stop. I'm startin think you just like to come see me."

"Well why not? You're a sight for sore eyes, good lookin."

He dries his hands while laughing at my brazeness and, as always, not taking my corny flirtation serious.

"Boy, you laughin like I won't fuck the daylights outta you right fuckin now."

That flippant response however has him spinnin on his heels to face me. Bucky's vibrant blue eyes grow to orbs and he's rendered speechless as he thoroughly takes in my damn near non existent ensemble. This man is staring at the swell of my perky titties so intently that I know step 2 of my plan is gonna be a piece of cake and I really hope its not my imagination when noticing a twitch from the protrusion in his black jeans.

Dropping the cloth in his hands to the garage floor, he takes long strides till he's standing outside in front of me. His pretty pink lips part and close multiple times as he struggles to speak as he gazes at my nipple covers. Wonder what Daddy's next moves gonna be..

Bucky doesn't say anything at first; but the way he lustfully takes me in gives me goose bumps. His big hands reach around me to grip under my ass and hoist me up against his body. I don't hesitate to wrap my arms and legs around him as he walks us to his parked car, layin me across the warm hood.

"Damn sweetheart, where you plan on goin lookin like this?" Bucky asks, eyes still darting around my body as he presses his clothed hard dick between my legs. The pressure of him against my pussy feels heavy, has my clit thumpin wildly and I'm grindin back without a thought.

"I have a date tonight." I respond breathlessly and that makes his light crystal cerulean eyes snap to mine.

"That right? What're you doin underneath me then, woman? Huh? A little pregame?" He teases, leaning in so close that our lips almost touch.

I shake my head at his questioning as my cheeks heat up from his words. Still, its difficult to feel true embarrasment as his hands glide slowly over my frame, leaving a trail of warmth that makes me press into his palms. Bucky's touch and proximity stuns me a bit, makes my brain fuzzy and pussy clench for him ferally. The small sexy smirk playin at the corner of his lips turns me on just as much as him dry humping me in broad daylight ontop his brand new ride.

"Huh y/n? Is that it? Did you come to me first cause you wanna cum for me first?" He chuckles at me.

Leaning down, his soft lips pecks light kisses from the cheek to my ear. His fingertips skim under my tight bottoms, so dangerously close to my clit as he nips and sucks at my skin. I'm moaning and nodding my assent as I tug him to press against me firmly by the loops of his jeans.

"Fuuuuck.. Lemme feel you then pretty girl."

Bucky's fingers finally dragging across my throbbing button lightly, makin me damn near seize underneath him. I do nothing to mask the loud gasp of his name as the pleasure from just one swipe has me squeezin my eyes shut and grabbin at the top of his jeans in a death grip.

"Damn, my girl is soooo sensitive."

His low groan at my ear makes my soaked pussy flutter quicker and I can feel myself becoming desperate from his teasing touches. The sensation of one hands roaming up my body to gently squeeze over my left tit as the other sweeps across my pussy has me choking on my breaths with a heaving chest. Bucky lifts his head to watch me as he slowly traces circles around my clit, never fully pressing down on it the way I crave.

"Pleeease Buck, pleeeeease." I beg for him to give me more as my incessant yanking on his bottoms pops open the silver button and zipper.

A surprising thanks to the foregoing of underwear is definitely due because I'm then gifted with fattest dick I've ever seen. He's so. Fucking. Perfect. Almost pretty if it werent how girthy his shaft is, the angry flushed head of his dick drooling an abundant stream of precum. I easily notice the weight of him prevents it from slapping upwards; the thick tip of his cock points at my slippery slit. I don't stop pulling at him, humping the tip of his dick while I continue to plead for him to give me what I want most.

"Okay, honey, okay. I'll give you what you want. But lemme take you inside- haaaah, ooooh fuuuuck.."

Our moans mingle togther as one of my harsh tugs forces a few inches of his dick inside my awaiting core. Bucky eyes are wide as saucers as he stares where we connect with an open mouth. His breathing is harsh and loud; strong chest rising and falling rapidly as he quickly grabs my hands from his jeans. I immediately grieve as his touch leaves my tit and clit but my pussy involuntarily clutches at the head of his dick as he pins my wrist to the hood of his car.

"Jesus, woman. Mmmm.. Dammit, aaaaahhh fu- you couldn't wait till I got you inside?"

"Noooo, James. Want you, NEED you noooow. Please Jaaames, pleeease!" I don't notice the volume of my voice rising as I start to lose my fuckin mind.

Bucky's gaze is piercing but frantic, darting from the small puddle forming underneath me on the hood of his car to the way I'm hangin off the end of his dick. But I think it's the way I whine his first name that breaks his resolve. He briefly halts pinnin me down to put my legs over his shoulders. He's then scooping my wrists together in one hand and covering my mouth with the other.

"Fine, pretty girl, don't say I didn't warn your bad ass. Tried to give us some privacy. Now you gonna take this dick no matter what."

The first pump of his cock has him slidin in halfway, the river spilling from me aiding his stroke in. Still, his fat ass shaft splits my delicate walls apart swiftly, the intense pressure has my glossy y/e/c eyes and lined lips opening wide. I squeal loudly gainst his palm, not expecting Bucky to already be sitting in my guts even though he wasn't all the way in yet. WTF..

"Fuuck, sobigBuck, you're HUGE." I whimper, peering up at him with vacant eyes. He leers down at me with a knowing smile.

"Yeah, but my girls gonna have to get used to it huh?" He asks, starting fuck up into my gushy slit.

I don't mean to yank at his hold on my wrists but his next 2 thrust are so fuckin deep. My resistance doesn't free me, though it pulls him off balance and he slides in to the hilt. The tension in my tummy deepens as I feel his cock diggin into my pussy in places no man's ever reached. If it weren't for the hand cupping my mouth, I'm sure the scream I let out would be deafening. Bucky moans out praises as I squeeze my eyes shut tight and try my best to breathe through my nose.

"You're doing so damn-ohshit- weeeeell honey, takin me sooooo good. Mmmmmm.. Chokin the fuckin life out my dick y/n. Not s-sure how long I can last in this hot, tight ass, little pussy, sweetheart. Fuuuuuuck.. Keep being a good girl for me, try to keep quiet okay?"

I can feel Bucky's stare on me even through my close lids, so I nod my compliance. In reality, I pray to god that i dont scream out 'Daddy' for the whole neighborhood to hear while he's dickin me down.

He takes his hands from my wrists and mouth, sliding them down for a quick grab of my plump brown breasts, then to grip at my waist. The pull of his dick slowly slidin out then swiftly plunging back inside has me panting loudly with furrowed brows. I have to cover my own mouth this time, both hands pressed against my lips as he repeats the motion of his hips over and over until he's fucking me in a unhurried but deeply precise rhythm.

"Ohmygod James! Sogood-you'resogood! Don't stop, pleeeease d-don'tstop!" My muffled cries are crazed as he finally stuffs me with dick.

"I won't, honey, won't stop till you cream all over me. Wouldn't dreeeeam of it, baby. Can't stop till you cum on my cock. Fuuuuuck you feel like heaven baby, pussy got me ready to nut an we jus started. Haaah oooh God, sooo good, need you to cum first, y/n."

I'm already covered in perspiration as the breeze races across my nut brown skin and cools me down. Its about the only thing I notice, sounds of the passing cars and chirping birds drowned out by the loud rushing in my ears as Bucky thoroughly fucks the shit outta me. The pleasure swirling in my tummy is so fucking taut, and I know when I cum it's gonna be fucking spectacular.

His unrushed pace begins to speed up, the impact of him pumpin into me rocks his car back and forth as his grunts become more frequent. My knees tremble near his ears from the onslaught, from hearing how good Daddy feels because of me.

He looks just as delicious as he sounds, his body so fuckin tense as I witness how he loses himself in my pussy. Normally his light blue eyes are what stun me, but the dark pupils so damn dilated captivate me into a trance. I stare back helplessly as he gives me the best dick I ever had.

The hands holding my waist clutch snugly, usin his leverage to help fuck me a bit faster. His dick twitches against my walls heavily as Bucky groans out his pleasure, grunts out how he can't take the creamy ring getting thicker around the base of his dick.

"Can I-mmmmohfuckohfuckhoney-can I kiss you sweetheart?"

The sugary sweet question is sudden and takes me aback, is almost funny considering how severely deep he's seated inside of me. I might've even laughed if I wasn't keening from the amazing dick I was currently receiving. Too overwhelmed to answer, I release my mouth and clasp my fingers behind his neck, pulling his face to mine.

Bucky presses a quick kiss to my mouth with soft pink lips. Then another. And one more, the third one deepening with passion. It doesnt matter that he slows the pace of his hips to a crawl again; he continues to grind and dig so deep that his cock curves and hits a firm but gummy spot inside my cunt. It's too damn difficult after that to keep in sync of his lips as he drags his spasming dick across my g spot with too much fuckin accuracy. My sobs against his mouth doesn't stop Bucky's assault on my body. I know what time it is when his hand leaves my waist to press a firm quick circle directly on my clit.

"Mmmmm, pussy f-feels too fuckin 'mazin y/n, sooooclosebaby. I'm gonna buss babygirl, gonna fill that pretty lil kitty to the brim. Need you to cum too, honey. Pleeease." Bucky pleas with me in between messy damp kisses.

I'm way too near my end for full sentences, but from the way I mewl 'James' repeatedly, he seems to get the point. His grinding comes to an abrupt halt before he pulls his dick all the way out and vigorously stabs back in over and over, smashing my g spot and flicking my clit ferociously.

"Bu- haaaah! Aaaahh fuuuu- James! Ohgo- mmmm.. Uhn, uhn, uhn, JAMES!"

My orgasm is almost incomprehensible at first, the pressure in my gut exploding, spiraling outta control and I squirt fiercely against his torso. Warm lips engulf my mouth, sucking and nipping, probably to hush the animalistic noises coming from me as I quiver and shake underneathe him. Its like an avalanche of sensation, so intense I have to grip and claw at his shoulders to ground myself.

"Ahhhh, fuck y/n! Can't take feelin you gush my dick like this. Gonna give this pussy just what she needs honey, fucking cummin sweetheart! Ahhhh shiiiit! Sogood, sogood! Fuuuuuck!" Bucky huffs and puffs his pleasure against my swollen lips.

His fist slams down against his hood, ceasing his rubbing on my pulsating clit as he spurts deep inside my trembling cunt. I can't help but to soak in his grunts of love and praises to me.

Baring his weight on me to keep me in place, he splashes another lava hot jet of cum against the walls of my pussy and it feels too fucking good to feel James Buchanan Barnes fill me up with savagely massive load of cum. I watch him quake as he erupts 2 more explosive sprays inside before pulling out, shooting the last of his cum on my cocoa brown slit.

"You planned this.." Bucky accuses, not wasting any time to catche his breath. His eyes planted where he smears his thick cream allover my pussy as he waits patiently for my response. Daddy doesn't stop till my pussy's covered in his cum. Only then does slip my legs from his shoulders, my snug bottoms back in place and his still very hard dick back into his jeans.

Tired eyes meet my heavy-lidded gaze but I take a few deep breaths to steady myself before I answer. My pussy is already sore but fluttering for more as I bask underneath Bucky's muscular frame.

"I did. Came up with a mastermind plan." I say proudly, my own smirk comin out to tease him.

"Oh really? And how many steps did this 'mastermind plan' have?" He asks with a raised brow, as he zips and buttons his pants

"Just 4." I answer shortly, knees comin up to squeeze at his hips and rub my hands down his abs to the loops of his jeans.

"Which were?"

"Well step 1, purposefully fuck up my car so-"

Bucky cuts me off mid sentence, leaning down so the tip of his nose almost touches mine. His hands grip each of my thighs firmly as quickly yanks me flush against his body and speaks in a low growl.

"I knew it woman! I've been wasting my fuckin time workin on your goddamn car for weeks and- You know what? Talk is cheap; time to pay the piper, honey."

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