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atminiature · 5 years

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White Dress

Bucky, OC.

Summary: Just don’t try this at home, I guess.

Contains: NSFW. Non-con(!). m/f. Dom!Bucky. Medieval vibes.

Word count: 3500 words.

Don’t forget to check out my masterlist. Link in bio.

***

I have barely set my bags down when there’s another knock on the door. I feel a twitch in my lower stomach when I go to press the cold handle down.

In the dark hallway outside, there’s a stern old lady with thick woolen skirts and in front of her a young woman, looking down at the floor, hands folded behind her back.

I grip the handle tighter.

“To a job well done, Sergeant,” the older woman speaks flatly.

I let my eyes wander over the girl. She’s in a knee-long, plain white tunic without sleeves, and no shoes despite the winter. I can see her nipples clearly through the sheer fabric. The white dress is probably the only thing she is wearing.

I step aside and nod approvingly. “Thank you,” my voice lowers an octave.

The girl’s chest heaves slightly as she walks in to me. The older woman gives me a curt nod back before I push the door back and bolt it again.

I turn my head back to my reward, and take in her delicate shape. I can just make out the curve of her waist through the dress. She looks thin and fragile, breakable even.

Walking up behind her, the sight makes my cock twitch inside my pants. I run my hands lightly over her upper arms, letting my calloused fingers feel her soft, warm skin. She has goosebumps all the way down to her wrists.

Idly, I slide my hands up to her shoulder, and around her neck, placing my palm over her throat. Her breath hitches and a high-pitched, gorgeous sound escapes her chest, as if that too is made to entice me. I hold her calmly for a second longer, feeling the air travel in and out through her body, her throat bobbing when she swallows. She stays quiet.

“They have told you what I like, go ahead,” I say, releasing her. I make my way into my bathroom. She gives out a small noise that makes my lips curl up, but follows me.

Inside, she takes my arm very carefully and leads me to the padded chair in the middle of the room.

“Please, Sir,” she says quietly, and I sit down.

I am still wearing my boots, so she drops down on her knees in front of me and start to untie the laces. The neck of the dress is loose, and looking down on her kneeling I see down all the way to her naked breast. I widen my thighs a little bit where I sit down, hand curled over my knee.

She takes my shoes to the door and put them down tidily before returning to me. Then she rolls up my trousers to my knees and fills a wide bowl with water and oils

I sink my feet down into the pleasant heat and let the water wrap around me. Her hands feel like silk as she takes my foot in her lap and scrubs me clean, massaging me until the muscles feels tender again.

Her dress gets dark splotches of water on in the front, but that is not going to matter soon. I manage to peal my eyes off her and lean back while she works, relaxing into the cushions.

When I feel her gently folding my trousers back down, I sit up again, watching her. She takes a deep breath through her pink lips and her chest swells under her dress, “Sir, I’m just going to rinse through your hair too,” she dares a timid glance at me, “so I can reach properly.”

I sigh contently as I sink back heavily and close my eyes again. With a white towel around my shoulders and bucket off hot water, she walks around me and stands to untangle my hair with her fingers, and comb it with hot water. I do not really care what she puts in my hair, but her nails scrapes deliciously against my scalp when she works up the foam. With a jug, she pours water over it until the bubbles are gone.

This time I just rise up, I do not need to tell her what to do. She keeps her head bowed down as she stands in front of me and undoes my gear. Her thin fingers are good with the little knots and hooks. I watch her in the mirror and almost reach out to place my hands on her, but I manage to contain my eagerness.

She dutifully gets down on her knees when she undoes my belt. Her hands slide my trousers and underwear down, and I step out of them. She stays kneeling in front of me, head down and hands folded in her lap, waiting for orders.

“Get in the shower.”

She nods quickly.

Her dress clings onto her skin as the water drips down generously, turning it beautifully translucent. She keeps her lips parted when she breathes to get enough air in the rainfall, and the neckline of the dress hangs down heavily, showing me all bare skin above her nipples.

I keep her in front of me as she scrubs my skin clean from grime and dirt, working up bubbles with her bare hands. My thighs are broad and muscular, and her soft hands on them make my hard cock rise up all the way.

It feels good to be ready, to feel the lust seep into my body.

She does my cock lastly, keeping her gaze down as she grips the thick shaft and run her hand up and down with slick oils. She takes my balls in her hands too, fondling them a bit with her fingers coated in lather. I like seeing her with my cock in her hands; she looks too small for it.

When she at last removes her hands from me, she looks up at me again, blinking water away from her eyes.

I nod and gesture lazily to get her to stand. I am clean, and my gear is tucked away properly, now the easy part of her job here is done.

My cock is almost pulsating in hot yearning.

I place my hands on her to bring her further in, making her face the corner. The water is still pouring down like rain, leaving pretty strands of hair framing her clean features, and she shivers slightly under my grip. Maybe because of the water, or maybe because of anticipation of what is soon to come. I stand close to her, framing her securely between myself and the walls.

I have to pause a moment to admire her delicate neck, the shape of her shoulder blades, her spine – her dress paints it all a pale color of honey where it clings to her skin. Gripping the hem of it, I’m thinking I have all time I want to explore her – she knows she will be here until I decide to send her away.

The thin fabric has taken weight of the water, and when I lift it up it tries to cling to her body. She helpfully lifts her arms up carefully, and I drop the dress on the floor behind me where it lands with a wet splash. Turning back to her, she has brought her hands up to hold a silver plated rail in from of her. I catch a glimpse of a tremble just before she tightens her grip.

Softly, I place my hands on her shoulders, standing so close I make sure she feels me grazing her naked back; my chest hair, and my red, hard member. The doll is absolutely still, I do not want to touch her face, or her neck – her hair, straight, heavy and wet, clings to her forehead and down her chest and back in the most gorgeous, natural way, unknowingly making me harder.

Instead I reach an arm slowly around her, cupping her left breast, over her heart. Despite that she saw me coming, she jerks a bit in my grip. I hold her gently, my hand soothingly massaging her breast, enjoying the soft, pliable feeling. She bows her head down, knowing it is close, and I feel her pulse beat rapidly against my palm, pointlessly struggling against me.

I yank her up a bit against my chest, so her back is straight – flush against mine – letting her rest a bit of weight on me to steady her.

Deciding I want to start, I slide my free hand down her front, interrupting small tendrils of water trickling down her body. My fingers cover a lot of skin as I allow myself to trace the bumps and valleys of her body on my way down. I stop on the back of her thigh, take a safe grip, and lift slowly. There is a ridge in good height along the wall where I place her foot to rest. Despite her breathing, that speeds up against my arm, she is compliant and I do not have to be firm with her.

I give her a second to just stand in position, still going in soft circles with my fingers over her breast.

Slowly, I bring my hand from behind her knee high up on her inner thigh, caressing her close to her core. She stirs a little in my grip, as if she do not know what to do of herself to escape, and I respond by gently pulling her thigh further out, spreading her.

I hold her like that and eventually she stills, head turned to the side, temple pressing against my chest. When I look down on her I see the beads of water balancing on her upper lip, beads of water dripping down her long lashes.

Silently, I begin to roll my hips into her from behind, my cock digging into her back, and I see her clench her jaw and close her eyes. I keep doing it over and over again as her chest heaves up and down in deeper and deeper breaths.

I could tell this docile, rare pearl, that I am going to go easy on her, but she does not need to know. It does not matter.

I feel her hips jerk back against mine and I stop my movement. She goes completely still too, barely breathing anymore.

A quiet whine escapes her lips, echoing lowly against the bare walls of the bathroom.

“Shh, it’s alright,” I comfort her as I take a firm grip of her hip bone, lifting her gently up on her tiptoes.

I place her entrance over my cock and ease her down gently. The tip goes in… the tip and an inch… I start to thrust gently up and down to enter more of me carefully.

She gasps and the light, feminine sound goes straight to my core again. She twist a little in my grip and I place my hand back on her thigh to keep her spread, and move my hand from her breast to hold her throat. She stills.

I know I am wide and long, and she is not big at all, so I try to be patient, but everything about her makes me hungry.

I keep thrusting lightly up into her, not giving her a proper rest until I am fully sheeted, I let her gasp and whimper lowly while she gets used to my girth. She clenches a couple times, deliciously squeezing my length, and I caress her breast again, kissing her temple tenderly before I go on.

When I finally get to thrust into her properly, sliding my cock in and out in long, deep strokes, I realize how starved I am.

She takes me well, and I can tell she is meeting my rolls as well as she can, whining and whimpering through full, parted lips.

Her cunt is tight and warm around me, and I decide to chase release from the very beginning – I have all night with her if I want to. The thought makes me grunt.

I keep spearing her firmly and deep, and as I pick up the pace her whimpers get louder each time I enter her.

I wish I could see her face as I take her, but that will have to be later tonight. She cries out and her inside clenches repeatedly around me, making me fall over the edge and empty myself inside her.

When I come everything disappears around me except for the pleasure – my hot, convulsing cock, and this quivering young woman and her warm inside milking me.

Her leg trembles, and she still gasps quietly when I come back down. I hold her tenderly against me for a second longer, she is finally relaxed, almost limp in my arms.

“Good,” I mumble into her scalp, “Very good girl.”

I release her from my grip, and she goes at once to get a fresh, white towel, and come back in front of me and start to dry me carefully. When she is done I take the towel from her, tying it around my waist as I walk out into the drawing room. I spent a long time on her in the bathroom – the sun has set.

I take a seat in the recliner in front of the fireplace, feet planted firmly on the ground, wide apart, as I hear her clean up the bathroom. The clinking of glass bottles, quiet, padding footsteps, and water pouring down the drain is comfortable to listen to.

My mind drifts off to recount the mission. It was easy, and it will be an easy briefing tomorrow.

Just as I am thinking I would like to look at the girl again, I hear her feet on the parquet floor. There is the sound of glass against glass, and the quiet snaping of a cap.

She comes forward and place a crystal glass filled with ember on the side table. I pat one of my legs and she kneels down in front of me, between my legs, gaze closer to my abdomen than my eyes. She has wrapped herself intoa towel too, but when she sits down a slit opens all the way up to her hip.

I am not in a rush – I take the glass she poured for me and take a sip, enjoying her silhouette against the crackling fire. With the glass set aside, I place a hand on my knee and straighten my back. She gingerly dares a glance up at me, and I feel like untying my towel – it feels a bit cramped – but I have decided to touch her first. Her hair is tousled from the water, and I bring my hands to brush it away from her forehead and behind her ears. I take her head in my hands, palms over her cheeks, and lift her up an inch to me; to my great enjoyment she places a hand on my knee to steady herself.

“Look at me,” I speak silently, her eyes flutter, but she turns her gaze up. Her towel has slid down her chest a little, showing me a nipple. I swallow thickly.

Tracing my thumb along her lower lip, she parts them ever so slightly, but I snake it inside, tilting myself a bit closer.

She closes her lips around it and sucks obediently. Her tongue swirls around it and she gently bobs her head up and down a little. She seems to struggle to meet my gaze while she goes on, her eyes fluttering shut momentarily, before quickly remembering and coming back to me. It is adorable, and my lips curl up a bit.

I retreat back from her, leaning back, hands on the armrests. Turning one palm to the ceiling, I bend a couple of fingers up. “Closer,” I say.

She inches closer on the floor, and I widen my stance, bringing my hands down to untie the towel. She does not hike hers up to shield herself from my gaze.

I place my hand on the back of her head, bringing her forward to me. She strains a bit – it almost goes unnoticed – but I am in control, and more importantly, larger and stronger than her.

She places her hands on my thighs as I carefully tangle my fingers into her hair and tighten my fist. With my other hand I grip my cock, stroking it with long pulls in front of her face.

I guide her head forward, her arms pushes slightly against my thighs, but I keep her down with the firm grip on the strands of her hair, and she gives in quickly, closing her eyes and shivers slightly.

With one last pull on my member, I place her in front of the tip, making her lips kiss it. I am not supposed to have to tell her to serve me, but it makes me harder to give her the order. White pre-cum clings onto her pink lips when I brush her against it.

“Mouth open, love,” I speak gently, and she carefully parts her lips and lick them one time. I slide the head in, and she closes her lips around it and sucks. A gorgeous, red color creeps up her neck, but she determinedly closes her eyes and swirl her tongue around me.

“Yes,” I mumble, “you’re here to suck cock.”

I moan and tighten my fist on her hair, eagerly pulling her closer, forcing her to slide more into her mouth.

Her tongue lies still against the bottom of my cock as she sucks, mouth full of me, lips stretched wide. I feel her breath fanning down on me as she breathes calmly through her nose, reminding me she is warm, and soft, and fragile.

I gently roll my hips up, slowly starting to fuck her mouth, both hands on her head, tilting it down and shifting my hips up to make her take more. I moan loudly.

I slow down and let her take me down her throat herself. She coughs a little and gag, but I hold her hands down against my thighs until her nose is nestled into my hair snuggly at the base. I placed a hand behind her head again, as she waits, breathing heavily thorough her nose. It feels good to be in her throat, and I finish my booze with her still and swallowing around my thick girth.

I take a hold of the back of her head again and slide me out of her halfway, before pushing back in. I grunt and moan as I fuck her throat, sliding in and out mercilessly.

“Look at me while you suck,” I tell her, and I get rewarded with shiny, pleading eyes. I come soon after, right down her throat. She gags and chokes a bit when I finally let go of her, but I made sure to empty everything before I pulled out.

“Well,” I say, leaning forward to her, “One hole to go,” I take her shoulder comforting. She nods dutifully, still swallowing. “Yes Sir,” she whispers.

I walk her over to my bedroom with a heavy hand on the back of her neck. I lift her up on the bed, standing between her thighs for a moment, hearing her breath hitch in her throat. Then I go to open up the glass doors, in front of the end of the bed, up widely.

“Lay and try to get yourself wet.”

She lies back against the sheets and pillows, spreads her legs slightly and cups her core with her hand, pressing down.

I start a fire in the fireplace, and close the curtains shut, but the sight of her frame waiting on my large bed is distracting, and makes my cock twitch up again quicker than I thought.

When I get back to her, she is not touching herself anymore, but lying still, staring up into the roof.

When I mount her, she tries to lift herself up a bit on her elbows, but I do not relent, keeping her small frame firmly pinned down under me. I push her thighs apart wider with my knees, and enter her once again, pushing in eagerly to the sound of her whimpers.

I lean down over her, making her take my weight and start to rock firmly back and forth over her. Reaching down to grab her thigh, I lift it up and bend it over my waist, as I keep thrusting in my steady pace.

Her body rolls against mine under me, and the feel of it – her ribs, her nipples grazing my chest, makes me grunt contently.

“Sir, please,” she begs, voice weak and trembling, just how I like. “Take me hard, Sir.” I smile; she knows who is fucking her.

I groan and bury myself deeper inside her. The dark bedroom and the soft girl under me, sunk down into the fluffy blankets, is heaven.

She parts her knees wider; all signs of struggle are gone, she’s just focusing on getting me to come. There is a gorgeous crease between her eyebrows as she concentrates.

I kiss her lazily as I continue in a steady, heavy pace. The room is hot and humid now, and our breaths mix in the air between us. I pull away but keep my lips parted, grazing hers.

She stretches just enough to let me in over and over again in perfect pleasure, and her moans are the best sounds I have heard for weeks.

I tilt my chest up as I come, thick ribbons of cum settling inside her chamber, supporting my hands on her shoulder, pressing her down into the mattress. I keep grinding into her for as long as it feels good. Her inside clenches hard and she moans with me, even though I will not ask if she came. She is at work.

She lies still under me, thighs parted widely, lips gasping for air, and strands of her fine hair in her face.

I have the same sight below me six more time that week.

***

Don’t forget to check out my masterlist. Link in bio.

(A/N): The way I reason about non-con is that we all can think and imagine whatever we want, even if it’s shameful. Freedom of thought. As long as it stays in our heads and on the page it is fine – it’s a whole different thing when what happens in this fic happen in real life. I feel like some writers beat around the bushes about this subject, trying to make excuses to try and make what they write more ok. As long as it stays on the page it should always be ok, just warn people and leave children and animals out of it.

#Bucky Barnes #james barnes #the winter soldier #bucky x oc #bucky x reader #bucky barnes imagine #white dress #atminiature

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ruckystarnes · 6 years

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Week Three

*** denotes 18+ themes

Best Things in Life are Not Planned by @until-theend-oftheline

Ask for Me *** by @atminiature (Bucky)

How Far I'll Go for You *** by @caplansteverogers (WS!Bucky)

I Could Show You Incredible Things *** by @itscaptainyoulittlemaggot (WinterWitch)

After Party *** by @mylittlefandomfanfictions (Steve)

No Fun by @invisibleanonymousmonsters (Steve)

Good Girl *** by @hufflebucky (Bucky)

Jealousy *** by @avenging-barnes (Bucky)

Surprise! by @docharleythegeekqueen

#weekly reading #reading list

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ao3feed-buckybarnes · 5 years

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White Dress

read it on the AO3 at https://ift.tt/2LprQ97

by atminiature

Dark!Bucky is sent a gift.

Just don’t try this at home, I guess.

Words: 3685, Chapters: 1/1, Language: English

Fandoms: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Marvel, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types

Rating: Explicit

Warnings: Rape/Non-Con

Categories: F/M

Characters: James "Bucky" Barnes, Original Female Character(s), Original Characters

Relationships: James "Bucky" Barnes/Reader, James "Bucky" Barnes & Reader, James "Bucky" Barnes/Original Female Character(s), James "Bucky" Barnes/Original Character(s), James "Bucky" Barnes & Original Female Character(s)

Additional Tags: Rape/Non-con Elements, Smut, Dom Bucky Barnes, Dom/sub, Sex Work, POV Bucky Barnes, Alternate Universe, Dark!Bucky, Rough Sex, Shower Sex, Oral Sex, Slavery

read it on the AO3 at https://ift.tt/2LprQ97

#bucky #IFTTT #ao3feed #fanfic #bucky barnes #james barnes #the winter soldier #james barnes

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atminiature · 5 years

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Nightfall

Alpha!Bucky x Omega!OC. (But it’s not really addressed that much.)

Summary: A bit of forbidden love. OC sneaks into Bucky’s quarters to see him. One thing leads to another. The morning after, Bucky gets angsty and one thing leads to another again.

Contains: 95% smut. m/f. Dom!Bucky. Medieval vibes.

Word count: 5400.

Prequel is coming out soonish. Masterlist in bio.

***

I hesitate before his door. It is eerily quiet here, and the twilight makes the smooth floor of the hallway shine like water in a lake. I cannot linger – either I knock, or I turn around right now before anyone sees me. I break the silence with three raps on the polished door, and with my loud heart beating in my chest.

He opens with a confused expression on his face when he sees me. I don’t say anything, I just start to make my way inside, and he silently takes a step aside to let me in. My heels click loudly against the smooth stone.

“You can’t be here,” he says incredulously as he pulls the door shut behind me. “Did anyone see you-”

“No,” I cut him off and spin around to face him. For a second I just stare into his eyes, blue as sapphires. “I know. I told them I’m staying with a friend tonight,” I say, suddenly breathless. “I just wanted to talk, to be alone with you.”

His features soften as he folds his arms over his chest and leans into the closed door. “Can’t say I don’t want you here either,” he admits.

A weightless flutter spreads from my stomach like electricity.

For the first time I let go of him with my eyes and look around. I make a little turn as I take in the room we are in – the fireplace is large enough for me to sit in, and every detail of the plush furniture is gilded or shiny. I raise my eye brows at him.

He shrugs. “Yeah, Steve really wanted to make sure I would enjoy my time here.”

“Why?” I ask bluntly.

He walks up to me and reaches around my waist to pull me with him to one of the tall windows by the balcony. He does it casually, so naturally, like he has been able to be like this around me before. His reply is quiet, but mumbled into my hair I still hear the words as clear as day.

“Because he wants me to stay.” His rough scruff against my scalp almost makes me forget what he said.

I pause. “I would miss you too,” I finally whisper to his pale reflection. It looks like we’re burning in the sinking sun outside.

We stand still for a long time, looking out, he holds his arms around me from behind and puts his chin against my head. I lean into him and wish I could freeze time. If I close my eyes maybe it will.

Suddenly, there is a change in the room. He straightens his back, but keeps one arm tightly around me, holding me flush against him. Just as he speaks, I open my eyes.

“Do you want a man who knows how to take you?”

I hold my breath, but my insides are roaring. I stir slightly in his arms and prepare myself to reply, but when I have turned my head to the side, to his chest, to somehow be closer when I do, I just leave my lips hanging a little open, tongue behind my teeth. I feel his chest heave against my back as he breathes to speak again. “I know your kind. You’re brave, impatient, you talk back, and bite if you have to.”

He places his free hand on my hip, his fingertips tracing small circles over the fabric.

“And you?” I ask, buying myself more time.

“I’m falling in love with you.”

The words are hanging in the air for a few seconds like snow floating to the ground.

“You look like a flame, but you’re a forest fire.” He pauses, “They’ve all been doing this wrong, haven’t they? Like feeding a wolf grass instead of meat.” He breathes the words out into my ear.

Suddenly I am aware of every inch of my body, every shiver, every goose bump, hot blood flowing too quickly… surging down into my core. “Show me how you’d take me then.” I whisper.

His lips smile against my skin as he bends down to kiss the skin behind my ear. Almost like an instinct, I close my eyes. I feel his nose nuzzling along my hairline as his lips make their way down my neck and then up again. The kisses are slow, lazy, and he pauses to suck a love bite under my jaw, nibbling teasingly when a soft whimper escapes my chest, my torso jerking forward a little. I savour the feeling his hot breath against my skin, and his fingers gripping my waist tenderly.

Light hands travel bit by bit to gather the silky fabric of my dress over my hips, and slowly turn me around to face him. He looks into my eyes as he brings one of his hands to gently cradle the back of my neck as he bends down to kiss my lips for the first time. At first he seems like the soft kind of kisser, but I can tell he is hungry. So am I.

We make out. There is no other word for it. The kind where lips get swollen, noses bump into each other and hands try to come closer when there really is not any closer. He pulls me against him by keeping one hand on the back of my head while searching over my back with his other hand until his fingers finds the buttons to open my dress and lets it fall to my waist, letting his hands run over my naked back. He splays his fingers out over my shoulder blades, his thumbs lightly grazing my sides, and pauses momentarily with his forehead pressed against mine before he looks down and starts shimmy the fabric around my waist down my legs.

I slide my fingers in under the hem of his shirt and slowly start to pull it up, only to be stopped by large hands gripping my wrists. The firm grip makes my core warmer, makes me want to rub myself against his thigh. Despite that I am already half-exposed to him, the though alone almost makes me blush.

“Uh-hu, I’m having none of that, you’ll have to wait.”

With a pout, I reluctantly let go of him and curiously stare up into his eyes. He keeps my wrists in his vicelike grip and bends down to place a peck by my hairline.

“I think I have an idea of where I want to put your hands so they won’t end up where they’re not supposed to be.”

I swallow even though my mouth is dry. “And where is that?” My voice does not really sound like my own.

“For starters you can put them on my shoulders and keep them there until I am done.”

“Fine.” He releases me and I bring my arms over his neck without losing eye contact. He smiles all the way into our next kiss and continues caressing my body. His fingers knead firm circles into my skin as he explores me and sucks more marks onto my neck. I do not know how bad it will look tomorrow, but I cannot find it in me to care, the thought of being reminded of him every time I see myself in the mirror only makes me want him more. With my hands around his neck, I cannot lean away from him far enough to hide that my breathing is getting heavier with each touch.

Finally, he splays a hand out over the small of my back and presses me forward at the same time as he cups my core with his other hand, and I let out a shaky sigh as I press my forehead into his chest below his shoulder. He brings his hand forward again between my legs, a little bit harder this time, and I understand what he is doing, slowly over again, giving me time to think about it. I feel the colour rising in my face, and I feel him chuckle lowly through his chest.

“Do you like how I’m handling you so far?”

I try to get away by humming an affirmative noise into his shoulder, but he is not satisfied. He just asks the question again as he rubs my sex one more time back and forth. “Do you like how I’m handling you?”

“Yes,” I gasp, tilting my head up, giving up my pride.

“Yes, what?” He persists. My legs are trembling slightly and I am sure he feels it. I feel unsteady in my heels.

“Yes, Sir,” I hiss through gritted teeth as he times another stroke with my reply.

“Look at you, missy. Already a mess,” he whispers with a kiss to my cheek.

I don’t want to look at myself. He’s having me hump his hand, there are strands of hair is in my face, and I feel a trickle of sweat making its way down my back.

He lets go of my body and reaches up to peal my arms off him. I did not even realize I had dug my nails into his skin, probably deep enough to leave marks like crescent moons.

“Come on.”

With one hand heavily resting on the back of my neck and the other in a gentle, but firm, grip around my upper arm, he keeps me in front of him as he brings me to his bed in the next room. All my clothes except for my heels and underwear, he has taken off and left on the floor. Without a word, he hoists me up on the end of it and places himself in between my knees with his hands planted firmly on my thighs, spreading them a bit further than they would need to be just to fit him just standing in between them. I feel his gaze on me, and somehow it makes me bow my head down little for him.

“There we go,” he sounds pleased. He stands quiet for a moment and in the silence I feel my heartbeat and core pound in the same rhythm. “You’ve never had an alpha put you in your place before, have you?” he asks as he brings a hand up to caress my cheek with his thumb.

“No,” I reply in a small voice and shake my head, but he follows the movement with his hand.

A dark noise rumbles from his chest, “I can tell,” he says as he reaches around me and unclips my bra in a swift movement, my cheek still in his hand.

“I think you have figured out how I want it from you.”

I nod, and bite my lip to keep in a moan; I was so close to coming just a minute ago. “Yes, Sir,” I whimper.

“Show me your hands,” he requests.

I wrinkle my forehead, a bit confused, but glance up and immediately put them out when I meet his gaze. They are trembling. I want to close them, but he has not told me to yet. Instead I close my eyes as another blush creeps its way up my neck.

He snickers lowly. “All the others who’ve had you before didn’t know how to take care of you properly.”

Patiently, he tangles a hand into my hair and pulls me up a bit, straightening my back, giving himself a second to look me up and down. Then he presses me gently backwards so he has space to take a breast in each hand and gently starts to massage them with his thumbs. I lean back on my elbows – legs still spread to accommodate him in between them – and allow myself to relax and enjoy the pleasure I get from it.

“I’ve wanted to do things to you ever since I first saw you in the forest.” He says after a moment, his fingers caressing me slowly.

I arc my spine a little, and roll my head back. “What kind of things?”

He does not respond straight away. He just presses my chest down lightly, just hard enough to signal to me to lay down with my back on the sheets myself. He follows me and lets his body tower over me. “Have you on your back, securely under me, filled up and moaning.” He squeezes my breasts hard and I gasp, my thighs coming together, trying to close my legs, but he is in the way. He chuckles lowly and moves one hand to cradle my head gently, and lets his other one softly caress me high up on the inside of my thigh.

“How does that sound?” He asks quietly, looking me in the eyes as his hand keeps massaging my skin slowly.

My shoulders shiver visibly and I take a shaky breath. “Good, Sir.”

With one knee between my legs, he supports himself as he climbs up and lifts me higher up on the bed.

“Hands over your head, please,” he requests. “I’ll have you my way or no way.”

I do as I’m told. He straightens my arms out slightly and in my peripheral vision I see him pull out a set of leather cuffs. He slips them onto my wrists and tightens them gently, but firmly, while keeping eye contact with me. Neither of us says anything when he is done, even though he is leaning over my naked body. I cannot keep myself from arching my hips up to grind myself carefully against his thigh. He bends down to kiss me and fireworks go off behind my eyelids. Without actually meaning to, I roll my body against him in lack of other ways to feel him.

He gives out a low grunt as he reluctantly retreats back from me, lightly letting his fingers ghost over my body – the swell of my breasts, my nipples – on his way up from me.

At last, he removes my panties and moves to stand on his knees in between my spread thighs.

In all the haze that he has had fogging my mind; I first now fully realize that I am completely naked in front of him, while he has kept all his own clothes on. I tentatively pull on my restrains, they’re tightened snuggly around my wrists – there’s absolutely nowhere I can go. He sends me a disarming smile as he looks down on me below him, gaze traveling slowly over my body, I can’t even shift to a more modest position. I become aware of my heart beating in my chest again, and sink back on the pillows and blankets, soft against my exposed skin.

“You’re making me so hard when you’re on your back for me.” He brings both his hands down and run them up my inner thighs, slowing down as he gets closer to my core, then he goes back and lift them up so they are left bent, and spread them a little bit further. “Legs spread, waiting for my cock…” he groans lowly as he takes my hips in his large hands and pulls me against his pelvis. He rolls his clothed core into me steadily “And these little high heels, I think I might keep them on you while I fuck you, they make me very hard too.”

I whimper quietly, trying to ease my breathing, but I have never been made to submit to an alpha like this before, and for the first time I am nervous. He stripped me off the control so gently I barely noticed, and now he has my hands restrained, and all of my body laid out in front of him to enjoy, to play with, before he takes me. I would probably be scared if it weren’t for how badly I wanted release.

I shift my wrist slightly over my head and there is a rattling metal noise from the chain of the cuffs and the bedpost.

“Are you comfortable, love?” he asks me, caressing my naked hips tenderly.

“Yes, Sir.” I breathe out.

“Maybe you’ll be more comfortable with my cock inside you?”

I nod quickly, pulling slightly on the restraints again.

He rolls his hips slowly into me one more time, and I desperately try to close my legs around him to more pressure, my breathing turning into gasping, “Shh,” he comforts, “I’ll take care of that soon.”

He runs his hand along the side of my body, up to my ribs and back, one of his lips curling up.

“Let me feel you.” He lowers me back on the mattress, steadies me with a hand on my pelvic bone and slowly enters me with an index finger.

To finally have something inside me makes me clench, and I carefully roll my hips into his hand as well as I can, but it does not relieve much of the ache. “So good and calm for me.” He lets his finger slide against my walls, then his voice hardens, “You’ll have to ask nicely for more.”

I let out a mix between a frustrated groan and gasp.

“Bet you’ve never had to beg for it before, do you?” He snickers lowly and shakes his head as he continues to move his finger inside me, bending it carefully. “You’re too gorgeous so all the boys spoiled you, never took their time, never had you wait. Tonight it’ll be done by a man who knows. I love begging.”

I give out a whine and helplessly try to press his finger harder into me, but he makes sure it is to no use.

“I have all day, love.”

As I take a deep breath and prepare myself to beg, I feel myself getting wetter, and it makes me blush that he is inside me and will feel it. It feels humiliating that he has undressed me, tied me down, and now orders me to beg him to fuck me while my juices are leaking out on him.

“I…Sir, please, can you add another finger?”

“You can do better than that, gorgeous.”

I pull myself up a couple of centimetres by my restrains to somehow get a better position to speak. He does not help even though he could; he only sits silently, watching me pull on his cuffs, his hands still firmly on my waist and inside me. “Please, Sir, I’m so desperate for you. You make me feel so good, I just want to come.” My naked chest heaves up and down with my breaths and he looks down on me with a pleased smile playing in the corner of his lips. “Please, can I have more of you inside me, Sir?”

He bends down and kisses my pelvis before he takes his time easing in another finger and starts thrusting them slowly into me. It feels good, but probably not as good as his cock would feel. Since there is nothing I can do about it I just lean back and take what he gives me, gripping my restrains tightly. Painfully aware that he is watching my naked body roll in pleasure from being fucked with his fingers, I feel the blood flow to my face, or maybe it is just because I am getting closer and closer to release. Before I reach it, he has pulled out, leaving me empty.

“What do we say?” He asks as he places his fingers over my mouth and I open up to suck them clean.

“Thank you, Sir,” I reply quietly when I am done.

“That´s it, quick learner.”

Finally, he leans back again between my spread legs and peal his shirt off. I can see that his length is straining against his trousers. He unbuckles his belt and as soon as his underwear is gone, his hard shaft rises up hard and thick against his stomach. There is pre-cum leaking out from the tip. He takes himself in a steady grip and pumps a few times.

I am sweaty and breathe heavily, and I want nothing more than to squeeze my thighs together to relieve the need, but he has had my legs spread since he lifted me up on his bed.

He’s still on his knees when he grips my hips again, I compliantly lift them slightly to make it easier to ease his wide girth into me. His face relaxes instantly in pleasure as he presses himself into me slowly.

I cannot do much except for watching him and clenching, and whimper lowly at the burning sensation between my legs as his heavy girth stretches me slowly.

“Yes, that’s it. Let me in like a good girl.” He thrives in control, back straight, and posture broad and proud. When he is fully sheeted inside my heat, he stills for a moment, eyes closed, before he pulls out, and enter me again. He feels heavy and hot inside me. I hold my breath. Then he starts to thrust into me. He is holding my hips up securely in his hands as he slowly pumps into my core over and over again.

I can just lay and take the bliss he gives me, gasping, rolling my body to meet his thrusts as much as his grip and cuffs allows to. He reaches deep from his position, but he does not pick up the pace and after a few minutes I realize what he wants.

“Sir, please” I whisper, my throat thick and dry, “you can have me harder, I don’t mind. Please Sir.”

“My beautiful girl,” he whispers, “of course I’ll have you harder.”

He pauses his movements for a second and bends down over me, roughly pinning me down under his heavy weight. I lock my legs around his waist, struggling a bit with my heels, as he starts to thrust into me again in long, deep strokes. I almost have tears in my eyes from being kept from coming for so long and I whimper out his name.

He kisses me and takes one of my breasts in his hand, caressing it, as he picks up the pace. I lift my head a little as I cry out, arc my back and pull on my restrains as if it would ease the ache between my legs. He takes a soft grip on my hair and brings me down to the pillows again.

“Do you like this? When I put you in your place where you should be and fuck you deep?”

I nod, mouth hanging open, strings of hair stuck in my face.

“Am I fucking you harder and firmer than the others?”

“Yes, Sir,” I whimper lowly. “Please Sir, your cock feels so good inside me. Please let me come.”

He makes a particularly deep thrust and I moan helplessly and close my eyes.

“God, these little sounds you make are the sexiest things I’ve ever heard.” he croons into my lips, groaning as he continues to fuck me in a steady rhythm, Stretching me a little bit closer to pleasure every time he slides himself into me.

I am so close and whimper every time he hits the spot inside me where I need him. It feels good to be small under him, to almost choke under his weight. To be pressed up into the bedframe with each thrust. He is right that no-one has ever dared to treat me like this before; he has taken what he wanted and left me in a dizzy bliss as he went along.

“I’m going to come,” he grunts into my ear, and I nod.

His words, and his seed spilling into me, brings me down with him and I come apart with a scream or a moan, I cannot tell myself. He keeps thrusting into me through my orgasm, until he has emptied everything he has inside me.

I keep panting even after he is done and has pulled himself out of me. He sits on the edge of the bed for a second before he shoves his hair from his face bends over to me.

He unties my heels first, before he gently unties my hands from his bedframe and kisses my wrists, and brings me to sit on the edge of the bed with him, his arm flung over my shoulders until my legs stop shaking. A moment later we fall asleep forehead to forehead in a mess of tangled sheets and tangled limbs.

***

The sun has only just started to colour the morning sky when I stir awake; judging by the light, the time is probably not even five. I shut my eyes again and allow myself to enjoy his arms around me, the smell of a humid night lingering in the sheets.

I turn my head to him and see that he is awake too, staring up into the roof. The playful spark in his eyes from yesterday is not quite there. He seems quieter than yesterday, heavier.

I rise on my elbows to reach to kiss him gently, and he gratefully takes the distraction. It is sleepy and lazy, noses and hands fumble against the sheets as I huddle closer to him. Kissing turns into making out and then he fucks me again, but without much fuss – just him on top of me hard and firmly, having me whimper in a quiet rhythm with each thrust. He is eager, and comes with a groan, his heavy breathing fanning my ear. I trace calming circles over his back with one hand when he is done, and my other hand he keeps tightly entangled with his own over my head.

He stills, head hanging down so his chin rests lightly on my shoulder. My breasts graze his chest with each breath. I feel his limb inside me, and the stickiness in between my legs when he moves to bring his hand up to cradle my head. He takes his time bending down to kiss the skin behind my ear.

“I want you,” he mumbles into my hair.

I turn my head towards him a little – as much as there is space for – his stubble is scratching my forehead but I try to bring him closer anyways by tightening my legs I still have hooked around him, “I’m here, I’m yours” I whisper back at him.

He shakes his head like he is trying to get rid of the idea. “They’d behead me if I marked you.”

“Hey,” I shoot back, releasing him from my grip and gently try to push my right hip up but he will not budge.

“I’m not from here, I’m not allowed to.” He lets go of me and props himself up on his elbows, looking down, meeting my gaze. “I’m serious.” His impossibly blue eyes make me lose my breath once again.

I cautiously lift a hand to brush away a strand of hair that has fallen in his face. “We’ll figure something out. I don’t know how, but we’ll fix it,” I whisper.

He rolls off me, but reaches out and pulls me close again. I lay my head on his chest.

“I’d have to swear allegiance to the court, to the army, but I don’t know if that’d be enough,” he states quietly.

As much as I understand the realness of his words, I cannot bring myself to agree. “I wouldn’t ask that of you,” is all I say.

He leans forward the last inch and kisses me softly, ignoring me.

“Steve Rogers likes you,” I mumble into his lips.

“This life has made me enemies.”

I do not know what to say to that.

“They will come for me, and I don’t want anyone to be at the other end when they do,” he continues.

“Don’t be scared,” I whisper and lean forward to smooth his hair down behind his neck. He is tense. For a couple of minutes I trace patters into his chest with light fingers, but his arm around me still feels rigid.

I tentatively lift my thigh over his waist for a moment before I slowly slide all the way up, so I am practically laying on him. He holds me lightly and idly caresses what skin he can reach. I scoot back and drag my fingers up and down over the highest part of his thighs and watch his half-hard member rise again.

He speaks my name lowly in a sigh, but I put a hand up on his chest. “Relax, close your eyes,” I mumble as I climb up on him and slowly ease myself down on his cock. When I am done I sit down heavily, enjoying clenching around him again, feeling fully stretched.

“Let me take care of you,” I whisper and start to grind down on him in small circles. He groans and quickly brings his hands to hold my waist, giving into my treatment. I place my hands softly over his, but not hard enough to take back the control he gained.

Carefully, to see if he will follow, I start to move my hips up. He does, and shifts his grip on me. I start riding him gently up and down, only pulling out an inch or so before pressing back down, taking my time, thinking about it more like a massage instead of a fuck.

“Are you relaxed?” I whisper quietly after a couple of minutes.

He replies with a heavy groan, “Fuck yes.”

I gingerly coax his right hand away from my hip, take it in mine and bring it up to my breast. He grabs it contently. I am not chasing any release; I just keep lightly keep rocking back and forth over him, using my body to placate him. Sometimes I wait a couple of seconds between the strokes. My only goal is to ease him, to have him pleasured and calm under me.

“Touch me if you want to,” I whisper, even though I know he would if he felt like it.

I allow myself to close my eyes as I keep working back and forth over him, still going in my slow pace. I realize that the concerned crease is starting to form between my eyes, and I force myself to relax so I can last longer. Under me, he has sunk deep into the bedsheets. Someone else might have thought he has fallen asleep if it weren’t for the grunts he lets out every now and then. When I think about giving him this intimacy, and to be so close to him and have pleasure together, it makes my breath hitch and my next thrust unconsciously gets deeper and draws a small whimper from my lips.

My legs are starting to tremble now and I feel weak, so I begin to take him deeper and deeper inside me with each thrust and start to lean forward slightly, starting to work towards release.

I bend forward and support my weight with my right hand next to his head. I feel his hair tickling my fingers. Suddenly it gets too much for me and I moan lowly in pleasure, and he starts to thrust harder up into me, taking over the pace.

The hand on my hip travels up my back to my neck, making me lean further down over him in the process. His other hand leaves my breast and snakes down over the small of my back, pressing me down flush against him to lock me in my position. I curl up against his shoulder as I keep rolling my hips into him. The hand on my neck slides up and settles heavily over my head, keeping my head down resting on his chest by a grip of my hair. I draw a shaky breath; the thought of him owning me like this turns me on more than I’d ever admit, I could serve him forever. My mouth is half open as I cry out in pleasure.

I feel his rough chest hair under my left hand and under my cheek, wondering if I’ve ever felt this way coming with anyone. A few long thrusts later he is filling me up with his warm seed once more, and the feeling makes fireworks explode in front of my eyes. I clench around him again and again, as my body takes everything he has.

I am collapsed on top of him, my legs still straddling his waist. I close my eyes and breathe heavily, and against my cheek I feel him do the same. One of his hands soothingly caresses the small of my back, and the other one is still tangled into my hair.

“Angel?”

“Mhm,” I mumble, exhausted.

“Don’t ever leave me,” he whispers.

***

Prequel is coming out soonish.

Masterlist in bio. (Links messes up the tags.)

#Bucky Barnes #bucky x oc #james barnes #bucky x reader #bucky barnes imagine #the winter soldier #nightfall #atminiature #Avengers

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atminiature · 6 years

Text

Old Enemies

Bucky Barnes x HYDRA!OC

Summary: Bucky tracks his old collegue down to the forests of Siberia and tries to convince her to come with him to New York.

Contains: Nothing that needs warnings. A bit fluffy honestly.

Word count: 1700.

MASTERLIST

My thigh is itching, is my first thought as I open my eyes.

Daylight, reflected off fields, and fields, and pine trees covered of fresh snow, blinds my eyes. From where I am laying I can only see blue sky and treetops through the window. Ice crystals in the corners of the pane swims in and out of focus. I sit up slowly and stay hunched at the edge of the bed until the floor under my feet stops tilting. The last thing I remember is skiing through the woods – leaving, with as little fuzz as possible, the base for just another job. Siberia was quiet, the air felt crisp and billowed out of my breath like cotton, and then I think I must have grazed a branch? Or did I stumble into something? I automatically reach for my right leg to ease the awful tingling.

A noise from the outside pulls me back to here and now, and I jerk my head up towards the empty window. In front of it there is a small, rustic table with worn, mismatched chairs placed around it. An object placed in the middle of the knitted tablecloth gleams in the sunlight. I hold my breath and slowly rise up from the bed – my legs are trembling a bit. I grab the backrest of the closest chair to support myself, since my legs are not doing the work themselves, and glance towards the table. It is a revolver.

I instinctively feel my throat tighten at the sight of someone else’s gun and I feel with my hands along my hips and thighs, the way normal people look for their cell phones. I was on a mission, and I do not even go grocery shopping unarmed. I force the dizziness away, like this is just a night out and I still have a couple of glasses of wine to go before I’m out of control, and look around properly for the first time, and find that I must be in some sort of log cabin. The walls and floor are rough and I can see the beams in the ceiling, which have bundles of dried sage and lavender hanging from it. Weaved carpets in red, green and yellow are covering the floor underneath the table, that seems to be a dining table, and the bed I thought I woke up on is more like an old fashioned, deep, sofa covered by a patchwork. It is no place for someone like me – this looks more like grandma’s summer place.

The noise from outside is back; it sounds like chunks of wood falling from a height. I grab the revolver and hunch down an inch as I try to spy out the window. I shrink into the wall and gaze over the ledge to get a better view. Trees and a field, but there are footprints in the snow right outside. Everything seems to be quiet again, so I jerk the gun in my hands slightly. It feels too light. Without taking my eyes off the window, I open up the chamber. An empty space is mockingly staring up on me.

Two heavy footsteps on what must be a porch outside the cabin – heavy boots stomping on a hollow ground.

I stay down, virtually hiding under the table, the revolver still awkwardly resting in my hand – I turn it around in my hand so I at least can use it to smash in my captor’s skull.

There are three slow knocks and a bored voice calling out my name. I rise so quickly from my place on the floor that I hit my head on the edge of the table top above me. At the same time as my head hits the board, the door swings open and a scream that is way too high pitched to match with the voice who called out my name earlier cuts through grandma’s skiing resort-cottage.

He looks exactly the same, but his eyes are warmer now. He cannot say that about me. I feel like I should be upset, but the feeling will not come to me. “What are you doing here?” Instead of rising to my feet I give in to the remains of whatever drug that is still whispering to my libs that they should not – at all – feel like doing anything just yet, slump down to the floor with my back against the wall, and await his response.

“I am off duty,” he replies simply, almost succeeding to hide his stupid grin.

“So you decided to see some old friends?” I raise my eyebrows.

“Old enemies.”

“Ha. Ha.”

“I did less planning breaking into HYDRAS alp-fortress last year, honestly. You are not an easy person to get in touch with.”

“No-one is supposed to get in touch with me.”

“That’s a shame, really. Don’t you ever feel like there is more to life than HYDRA?” His manors change within a heartbeat. His posture freezes and he his eyes become glued to mine. This is why he came here. James Barnes never had a poker face.

“Even if I hypothetically did, I would have nowhere to go, except prison,” I state dryly. “I am happy with my situation, thank you.”

“You don’t have to-”

“Can I leave now? I don’t have time for this. I am, unlike you, on duty.”

He changes from concerned and put together to nervous in two seconds. His hands find their way to the waist of his trousers and start drumming irregularly. “I… I don’t know how to say this, but you might be too late for that anyways.”

“What do you mean by that?” I snort.

“You’ve been asleep for twenty-four hours,” he mumbles, not quite looking at me.

I only blink at him for a couple of seconds, and before I can open my mouth in pure rage, he speaks again.

“Have you lost weight lately? Something went wrong with the dosage. I didn’t mean to keep you more than a few hours, but I even had to go and chop some more logs while you were out cold.”

I just stare at him. “Do you have any idea of the shit you’ve fucked up?”

“I’ll help you get your mission done in time, even if you choose not to come with me.”

“You better.” I almost scream, “I don’t fail missions, I am a professional-”

“Professional what?” He cuts off harshly. “Pawn?”

The air between us grows cold. I shake my head and carefully start to rise of my position on the floor to walk around him, out the door, but the arm he extends to support me when my legs collapse pushes me down in the chair instead. “If you think I am just going to stand here and watch you ruin your life, you’re wrong.”

“Where are we?” I hiss embarrassed, ignoring his weak attempts to talk sense into me.

“In the forest,” he states dumbly, grinning.

“You dense, fucking-”

“We’re deep in the forest. We don’t even have electricity.” His smile grows wider.

“Yeah, we better be really fucking deep in the forest when they come looking for me,” I exclaim, throwing my hands in the air. “Tell me we’re still in Russia at least?”

“Yeah,” he nods, the look of concern sneaking its way back into his face. “When’s your deadline?”

“I had three days, and apparently I’m going to throw away two of them.”

He grows silent and looks out the window, supporting his hunched posture on the back of the chair. His eyes reflect he sun and the light blue sky, and I almost remember why I fell in love with him once. “What is the mission?” He asks.

“Like I’d tell you,” I reply softly.

“Well, if you don’t tell me I can’t help you,” he says through gritted teeth.

“You’re retired from this. You’re not going to help me,” I shrug.

“But you said-” he shifts his gaze to me, sounding as sincere as ever.

“-Yeah, yeah, I was just mad. You’re a dick, but I’m not letting you help, simple as that,” I shake my head. “I’m in trouble but I’m not dead.”

“Yet”, he breathes out. I do not know if I am actually hearing the word or reading it on his lips.

Neither of us is breaking eye-contact, as if a staring contest would solve our deadlock. He is the first to look away, blinking a few times to get rid of the sting.

“How did you get me?”

“What?” He frowns with his head adorably tilted slightly to the side.

“Was it an injection? Poison arrow?” I rub my thigh, “You didn’t just hit me in the head, that’s for sure.”

“Ahh,” he lets out a short laugh, “An injection stuck to an arrow, I guess. You’re heavy, by the way.”

“I’m all muscle,” I smirk.

I cross my arms over my chest and shiver slightly. I have not changed clothes since I skied through the woods and I am damp right through. “Do we have water?” I ask as I start marching through the small cottage, trusting my legs to do their work.

Bucky moves towards the door in a defensive stance, but I ignore him, I am not going outside.

“Yeah, why?”

“I’m taking a shower,” I proclaim, “I don’t care if I will have to heat up the water over the fireplace-”

“No need to,” he interrupts, “there is a boiler outside – we have 20 litres. Save some for me.”

“Lovely. See you in ten.”

“If you drop your clothes outside the door I can hang them in front of the fireplace.”

“Thanks,” I say sincerely.

“Remember what you touch, I am not here legally, the family is only using it on holidays. I do not plan on leaving any traces,” he shouts after me as I close the door.

I stand in the shower until I feel cold water raining down on me. Then I step out. The feeling of damp, rough-cut wood under my wet feet is new, but pleasant, and so is the smell. I sit back down on the sofa in front of the dining table and and wait.

“Thanks a lot,” Bucky mutters a moment later, sticking out his head from the bathroom.

“Just wanted to see if you were lying and we really are in the armpit of the Russian wildwood. Sorry,” I add, without sounding very sorry.

“I despise you,” he yells without sounding very angry.

MASTERLIST

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