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halfricanloveyou · 2 years ago

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here’s the thing about being nonbinary for me personally: it is not and has never been about breaking boundaries or daring to be different or freedom of gender expression that made me suddenly choose to be nonbinary.

i have always been this way. i’ve always known but never fully understood why i felt so uncomfortable being a woman. it had nothing to do with leaning more towards femininity or masculinity or gender roles or hating women.

i have always felt that i have never been a woman. it never felt right to me being defined as one. though i share a lot of experiences with women due to society seeing me as a woman and people in society treating me that way, disliking femininity wasn’t what made me think i was nonbinary.

what made me really fully realize and understand was when i realized that when it came to me personally, i didn’t care about femininity OR masculinity. i didn’t really think in those kinds of terms when it came to myself either. the idea of gender isn’t one i felt applied to me, as a person.

i didn’t care about being a woman. i didn’t care about what things were labeled as “feminine” or what i was supposed to be like as a woman. i didn’t WANT to be a woman. i didn’t feel like a woman.

at the same time, i didn’t want to be masculine. i didn’t want to be seen as a man. though i feel i have more in common with men, i still never felt that i was a man.

it was always really difficult and alienating for me, not understanding why i felt so much dysphoria at being seen as a woman OR as a man. why being called either just never felt fully right to me. why trying to be either felt like a chore or a costume i had to put on, and when i was called or mistaken as either i felt like i wanted to scream and cry. why i never understood why i wasn’t good enough as either gender, not feminine enough or masculine enough, not fitting into either category.

i tried to force myself to be a woman. i tried really hard to be more feminine, really hard to force myself to see myself as a woman. i tried really hard to be like the many women i know and have known. and i tried the same on the opposite end. i tried to force myself to be more masculine. i tried to dress differently and posture differently. and it still felt deeply wrong to me.

i’d always appealed more to animals specifically because they didn’t have to worry or care about whether they were seen as boys or girls and they could be loved just as dearly even when their owners had no idea or what gender they were. how being a girl or a boy had very little impact on who they were because it didn’t really matter to them, and how people were always excited to see a dog or cat and what gender they thought the animal was didn’t change how they approached that animal because in reality, whether the animal was a boy or a girl came secondary to the fact that it WAS a pet, a dog or a cat, and in reality nobody really cared about what gender the animal was. and the animal itself also didn’t care or have any sense of it’s own gender outside of hormones and reproduction.

with the several farm cats i owned gender meant nothing when it came to their group dynamics: the cats that were “in charge” or the more combative cats that would chase off and fight cats outside of their colony or the ones who would hunt and bring food to share with each other, who were protective of the other cats in the colony and would attack any troublemakers that intentionally tried to pick a fight; or the ones who preferred to lay back and were more affectionate, who would all lay together and who would simply sit and stare when a cat they were unfamiliar with tried to enter their territory; or the cats that were the ones who seemed to be targeted and picked on by the other cats, who pushed the boundaries of the cats around them, who would randomly pick fights just to lose consistently, who would growl at the other cats and get into spats only to run away or be chastised; gender had nothing to do with which cats tended to fall into which role.

the cats i had that tended to be skittish or aggressive or active or affectionate…gender had no bearing on any of that. i always felt so jealous of that. i wanted to be a cat (especially in childhood lol) because i wanted to live in a world that had a dynamic like that. a world where gender didn’t matter, where no one really had any concept of gender and it really didn’t matter. no cat cared about whether the other was male or female and it didn’t change how they interacted. (unless it was something like intact male vs neutered male or female cat in heat and male cat)

when i finally heard the term non binary, that it was something that even existed, i knew instantly that it sounded like me. i was scared at first, went through a lot of self doubt and questioning myself, calling myself stupid for considering it. but then i started to understand what it really meant.

a gender identity that is neither male or female. a gender identity where the concept of gender simply didn’t apply. an identity where you didn’t have to pick one or the other or lean into one or the other. and once i finally let myself accept that identity i finally felt right. i didn’t have to pretend to care or go out of my way to be feminine or masculine. i didn’t have to care about being a lady or a woman or lean into being a man or wanting to present as masculine or any of that. i didn’t have to be what i was “supposed to be.” i didn’t have to be a tomboy or a girl that was proud to have masculine interests and still be as much of a woman as a feminine girly type of woman. i didn’t have to be a man at my core, being proud to have feminine interests while defining myself as just as much of a man as a more masculine man.

none of those felt right or felt like me or who i was. knowing that i didn’t have to force myself to be any gender or present/lean into any feminine or masculine ideal was freeing to me. that i could like any of the things i wanted without really thinking about whether they were feminine or masculine was so relieving. i could decide it didn’t matter to me. i could be someone who was neither or someone who none of those ideas applied to.

though i still suffer from low self esteem issues and mental health issues, i finally don’t hate myself for not being able to choose one identity or the other. i finally understand why i am the way that i am and why i felt so wrong and inadequate and unable to be the woman or man i was supposed to want to be.

in understanding that i didn’t have to be either if i didn’t want to, i was finally able to accept the person i’ve always been. and i’m finally able to accept that that person exists, even if people don’t understand or are disgusted by them or make fun of them. even though it’s supposed to be one or the other. i don’t have to choose. i don’t have to pick the option my body is biologically defined as.

#nonbinary #NB #enby #long post #honestly this is the first time i’ve been able to sit down and put my thoughts and feelings into actual words #i’m sure no one will read this #but i wanted to write it because i’m not allowed to talk about it #until i am able to defend or explain it in a way that can be understood by someone who hasn’t experienced it #or met someone who was similar or perhaps even the same way #NOT ALL NONBINARY PEOPLE ARE THE SAME THOUGH!!!#this is just what it means to me #and my experience as a transgender person #especially as a transgender person who didn’t feel dysphoria towards their own body #to me it’s always just been a body and i never really hated it for what it looked like #i didn’t like my body for what it was perceived as #to me though biologically my body is considered female #i never really saw it that way if that makes sense #the reason i struggle with it is because it’s the reason i can’t be seen or identified as anything but a woman by other people #i hate that this body is considered female #i hate that this body means people will always call me a woman and see me as one #but the body itself has never been the issue i don’t experience dysphoria because i want it to look different #how it looks really doesn’t mean all that much to me #other than being overweight tbh #men can have breasts or even vaginas and still be men #and women can have short hair or not have breasts or even have ducks #and still be women #in that same way i can still have this body but be nonbinarh #trans #transgender #lgbtq+

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navybrat817 · 3 months ago

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Mr. and Mrs. Barnes

Pairing: Husband!Bucky Barnes x Female Reader

Summary: Bucky suggests sneaking off at the gala. How can you resist?

Word Count: Over 3k

Warnings: Unprotected v. sex, sex in a closet, dirty talk, possessiveness, established relationship, slight insecurities, mention of breeding, slight feels (it's me), Bucky Barnes and he's a simp for you (he's a warning, okay?).

A/N: Sorry, lovelies. I just really wanted this. Not beta read and written on my phone, so any and all mistakes are my own. Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog for new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!

Bucky didn’t bother to hide his discontent as he looked around at the ballroom. Was it a gala? Fundraiser? What cared? He hated functions like these. People were either there to kiss ass and move up the chain of command or gloat about how well off they were in life under the guise that they were doing good for others. He didn't attempt to converse with any of them, but still had to go as a way to support SHIELD in some capacity and show that he was no longer the Winter Soldier.

At least Steve and Sam were excused from the event due to a mission.

Leaning against one of the pillars and tugging at his bowtie, he spaced out momentarily. No one looked his way, but he still felt judged. Like he didn’t just belong at the event, but amongst anyone. He wanted to go home, get out of his tuxedo, and get the product out of his slicked back hair. He debated sneaking away from some air until he blinked and saw the reason he was truly there: you, the only real person in the crowd of liars and cheaters.

He never understood the expression of clothes clinging to someone like a second skin until you stepped into your floor-length black dress earlier this evening, the fabric enhancing every beautiful curve of your body. His eyes narrowed as you moved around the room and exchanged smiles and handshakes with people. Your aura drew people to you, men brushing against you and their stares lingering for far too long. It served as another reminder of why he didn’t want to go tonight, especially when a General gripped your arm.

If he had a glass in his hand it would’ve shattered.

Convincing you to stay in bed didn't work since you both had to make an appearance, but it didn't mean he wanted you apart from him. “Get over here,” he whispered, craving your attention, needing you close.

As if you sensed him seeking you out, likely feeling the weight of his stare, you turned to meet his gaze across the room. Your eyes sparkled with love that he never thought he’d receive in his lifetime. The kind of love he never wanted to be without again. “Would you please excuse me?” You asked loud enough for him to catch as you removed your arm from the man’s grip. “My husband is waiting for me.”

Your hips swayed as you worked your way toward Bucky, not stopping for any other man who tried to catch your eye. Hearing you call him your husband brought the first smile to his face since he arrived. He still couldn’t believe some days that you wanted forever with him. “I was wondering when my beautiful wife would remember I was here,” he said once you were close enough, reaching out for your hand.

The moment you took it, he stood tall and pulled you against him. He was certain no one else came close to the intimidating vibe he put out, his hold on you possessive as you smiled. “As if I could forget. Practically heard you growling when General Rando touched my arm,” you teased.

“Because he has no right to touch you,” he said, your lashes fluttering as you spun away. His hands guided you back to him. “I know you’re better with people than I am, which is why you’re the one who has to socialize and I’m sorry for that. But you also said I’m not allowed to break any fingers tonight and I won't be held responsible if he tries to touch you again.”

He swore he didn’t have a possessive bone in his body until you sauntered into his life, giving him hopes and dreams and longing.

You laughed at him, a seductive sound that had a few heads turning. “You do know I can break his fingers myself, right?”

He chuckled, leaning close to your ear and tickling your skin with his breath. “I know you're more than capable of kicking his ass. One of your many wonderful qualities,” he whispered. People underestimated you and that was always a mistake. “But I still don't like that he touched you like he wanted to own you.”

You rang a finger along his bowtie. “We all know who owns me and we know I own you, too,” you said, holding up your hand to show him your wedding ring. He tried to ignore how fast his heart pounded at the sight of his ring on your finger, the pledge you two made together. “In a very healthy, non-toxic sort of way, of course.”

He smirked, glancing around at the crowd before looking back at you. “Of course, but maybe we could give everyone a friendly reminder that we’re a happily married and loyal couple.” His voice dropped lower, teasingly. He wanted to make your heart race like his. “Or maybe we could sneak away for a bit. Make this night a little more interesting.”

“Sneak away?” You feigned innocence as you blinked at him. He was certain any innocence you had before he met you was gone thanks to him. “Whatever for?”

“You know what for. It’ll be like that expo we went to a few months ago.” Bucky tilted his head slightly, studying your face closely. He easily picked up your sharp inhale, the way your pupils dilated and lips parted. It was clear that sneaking off was something that very much interested you. “C’mon, baby. This gala is boring and neither of us want to be here. My idea is much more fun. You know it is.”

He touched your cheek, your skin warm under his hand. He wasn’t able to keep you in bed earlier like he wanted, but the thought of pulling you away and having you right here and now had his stomach fluttering with excitement. “This gala is boring,” you agreed carefully.

“Then let’s make it exciting.” His thumb brushed across your lips and it took everything in him not to push his thumb inside. “You made me come to this thing. Don’t I deserve something for showing up and behaving?”

“I haven't made you come yet.” His muscles went taut when you briefly sucked the digit into your mouth, electricity crackling under his skin. He admired your boldness, how you were unashamedly yourself in front of these people. You didn't and would never care what they thought. “And I didn't make you come to this event, but I can make it worth your while.”

He held your chin and moved close until only an inch separated your faces. Your eyes gleamed with a hunger that rivaled his. The air crackled between you, daring you both to give over to your obvious desires. “And how exactly do you plan to do that?” He rasped when you suddenly pulled back and helped move him across the floor in a dance.

“My plan? I thought sneaking away was your idea,” you smiled, guiding you both closer to the open doorway. “But if we can find a closet or dark corner, you can do whatever you want with me. And I’ll even let you fuck my throat first thing tomorrow morning for behaving.”

A rumbling, deep groan escaped his throat. His fingers dug in possessively when he gripped the nape of your neck and tilted your head so he could taste your skin. Your body molding against his, soft and yielding against his solid frame, wasn’t enough. There were too many clothes in the way and he wanted to bury himself deep inside you.

“You drive me crazy, Mrs. Barnes,” he whispered, lifting his head to look into your eyes.

“The feeling is mutual, Mr. Barnes.” You bit your lip once he waltzed you for enough away from prying eyes, the heat flaring between you. “I need you.”

Every nerve ending came to life when he claimed your mouth in a searing kiss. His tongue plunged past your lips, holding you steady as he devoured you. You melted against him, which only brought forth his primal hunger more. His intensity never scared you and he would be forever thankful for that.

You gasped as your back hit a wall, the sounds of chatter and music from the ballroom muffled. Your nails scraped the fabric of his jacket, both of you lost in sensations of lust and desire. As one of your hands continued its journey to his shoulder, the other wandered down his torso and didn’t stop until you gripped his thick erection through his pants.

He abruptly broke the kiss when you gave him a squeeze, his eyes wild. “Fuck,” he breathed, gripping your wrist and pushing more firmly against your hand. “You feel that? That’s what you do to me.”

With dizzying speed, he spun you so that your back pressed against his front. You panted as his hand ventured through the slit of your dress and brushed along your trembling thigh. “Wait until you feel how wet I am,” you whispered, grinding your hips back against his.

His mouth brushed the exposed column of your throat, alternating between small bites and open mouthed kisses. “Still get wet for me?” He asked, massaging your breast with his vibranium hand and drawing another gasp from you when he pinched your nipple. He marveled at how much he could feel with that hand and how he’d never harm you with it.

“Have you seen yourself? One look from you and I’m soaked.” Your back arched as he bit down again. He wished he saw himself the way you did. “And you’re my husband. That craving for you isn’t going away.”

He rocked his hips against yours, seeking out more contact and friction as his cock throbbed and heart swelled. Marriage wasn’t a constant honeymoon phase. It took work. Effort. Compromise. But you were worth every moment, every struggle, every up and down.

Laughter from a few feet away had him lifting his head, both of you looking toward where the noise was coming from. “Fuck,” he snarled, wanting to scream at whoever it was to go the fuck away.

“There’s a closet around the corner. We just need to pick the lock,” you told him, smiling over your shoulder. “I may have scoped out the place in case this happened.”

He chuckled, utterly in awe of you. “I fucking love you,” he exhaled.

Walking with an aching hard-on wasn’t easy, but he managed to get you both further away from the ballroom. He picked the lock with record speed once you got to the door and moved you both inside. He flipped on the light, wanting to see as much of you as he could. For a moment, you two stared at each other and waited for the other to make a move. He loved the anticipation.

“I’m disappointed in you, Mr. Barnes,” you said, reaching for the doorknob to lock it. He was about to ask what he possibly did to upset you when you smirked. “You didn’t mention anything about me not wearing any panties.”

His cock was ready to burst from his pants. “Because that fucking clown out there interupted me,” he rumbled, pinning you against the door and crowding your body. His nose touched yours as he hiked your dress up, desperate to kiss you again. Eager to feel your wetness. “You trust me?”

It was a question he always asked. You put all of yourself into his care, your body, mind, heart, and soul. It was only fair that he made sure you still wanted him to be the one for you today, tomorrow, and every day after that. Even then a single lifetime would never be enough for him. He wanted a thousand lives with you.

“Always,” you said, an ache in your voice that he couldn’t resist. He fused his lips with yours, building up the fire all over again when his hand found your damp heat. The most intimate part of you where you allowed him to make himself at home. Your hands shook as you went to undo his pants, wanting to free him. “And you trust me?”

It wasn’t just his heart that contracted. His very soul trembled, wanting to wrap itself up in your light and love. “With everything in me,” he promised, sighing when he pulled his cock free from his underwear. “I’ll worship you later. Those gorgeous tits of yours. Your sweet cunt.”

Once you were home, he’d slip off your dress and give every beautiful inch of your body the attention it deserved. He’d draw a bath for you, too, and hopefully join you so he could simply hold you. But he was desperate for you now. He thought he’d burn if he didn’t have you.

You hiked a leg around him, moving your hips enticingly. There was only so much he could take. And who wouldn’t fall under the tempting spell of your body? “I’m ready for you.” Your soft moan echoed in his ears as he trailed a finger along your slit to your clit, barely touching it. He knew it would shoot small sparks through your body until you begged for more. “I mean it, Barnes. Get. Your cock. In me.”

“My needy little wife,” he whispered against your lips as he gripped the base of his cock and probed your entrance. The breathy sound you made when he began to push in had his blood pulsing in euphoria. It was a wonder he fit some days with how tight you were, but your slick heat stretched and welcomed him every time.

“My needy husband,” you smiled as you enveloped him completely, your fingers curling in his hair.

“What kind of man isn’t needy for his wife?” He began to thrust in deep, deliberate strokes. It matched the rhythm of the music in the distant ballroom, the two of you creating your own sultry dance. Maybe he would go up in flames. At least he’d have you to burn with. “Fuck, your body was made for my cock.”

Each snap of his hips tore more moans and whimpers from your throat and sent shockwaves through his system. You clenched around him with a smile, looking like a debauched angel. “My pussy was made for you, so ruin it.”

He groaned, his pulse beating strongly as his grip tightened on your hips. He fucked you without restraint, just as greedy for you as you were for him. Allowing himself to feel you and what you did to him was everything he was denied for so long. His life had only been order. Pain. You let him lose control. You gave him pleasure. Even a home.

I love you.

“I love you, too, Bucky,” you panted, brushing a thumb over his cheekbone as his eyes closed against the emotions threatening to surface. “I love you, too.”

His pace picked up, urgent, frenzied. At this rate, he might explode into fragments from your declaration and how good you felt. “You love me?” He bit out, his eyes opening and breaths harsh as he felt you clench again.

You cried out, his hand flying up to brace your head before it hit the door. “So much,” you moaned as you gazed at him. You were the most beautiful person he had ever seen. Fierce in love and loyalty, patient and steadfast. He feared some days he’d need you more than you needed him, but you drove that thought from his mind. “I’m yours.”

“I’m not gonna last,” he warned. He couldn’t with the way you looked at him, the way your walls gripped him, knowing you were his.

“Neither am…” Your mouth fell open as your release hit you, your fluids drenching him. It was a wonder to watch you go over the edge in a blissful orgasm. He wanted to be right there with you.

“There you go. Good girl,” he encouraged, your body still tight around his cock. He erupted in one last thrust, his head falling back with an animalistic roar. “Fuck…”

Bucky braced a hand against the door, the other holding you like a lifeline. If only the two of you were at home so he could properly cuddle with you. His breathing remained ragged for a bit as he came down from his high, your breathing beginning to steady, too. He couldn't help but smile as he took in the sight of you thoroughly ravaged and satisfied. “Worth every second of being here,” he sighed, slowly pulling out of your twitching hole. You inhaled when he moved a hand down and swiped two fingers along the mess seeping out of you. “Clean them off for me, baby,” he ordered huskily, bringing them to your mouth.

Obediently, you parted your lips and allowed him to push his fingers in. You swirled your tongue around them to taste your combined essence, moaning at the tangy flavor. He tucked himself away once you finished up, afraid that he’d fuck you all over again if he didn’t get completely dressed. It didn’t stop him from gazing longingly at you as he fixed his jacket.

And it didn’t stop him from imagining your mouth around his cock the next morning.

“Now.” You grimmaced slightly as he helped you steady yourself and straighten out your dress. He knew that look. It was the look you got for a split second whenever the sticky remnants continued to trickle down your thighs. He loved having that claim on you. “How do you expect me to go back to the gala after that?”

“I don’t,” he smirked, his hands moving back to your hips as he snuck in a gentle kiss. “I think it’s time to get you home and back in our bed where you belong. I promised I’d worship you, remember?”

You nodded, your eyes still slightly dazed. “On one condition.”

He titled his head. “What’s that?”

A slow smile curved your mouth, his heart pounding and cock twitching back to life at your answer, “You put a baby in me tonight.”

So, lovelies, was it okay? I feel rusty. And who wants a future fic of Bucky breeding you? Just me? Love and thanks for reading! ❤️

Masterlist ⚓ Bucky Barnes Masterlist ⚓ Ko-Fi

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