#pirate bucky x you

[gaysindistress]

Running from the Daylight - two

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

Summary: based on this request

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

Word count: 3.6k

part one | my master list

Tag list: @talesofreading

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Maybe my last wish would come true.

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

“You need sleep my love.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Words escape me and I just nod.

Apparently that’s not good enough.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Do as you’re told.”

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

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

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

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

“James,” I plead, “please.”

He coos mockingly as he lines himself up.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

[buckyalpine]

I know it's a tad late for Halloween BUT I had this idea because of last year with this so:

"Nice pirate costume" Sam nodded his head in approval as Bucky approached the bar wearing a dark shirt, half unbuttoned, showing off a very nice view of his chest. His long black coat was belted at his waist along with a bandana tied on top of his head. His sword swayed with his hips, his beard trimmed down.

"I hope so, do I look like Will Turner?" Bucky looked down at his boots again, having already checked his outfit 10 times before leaving, comparing it to the reference photo, "I even waxed my chest"

A series of wolf whistles followed while Bucky patted himself down to make sure he had every bit of his costume in place, you insisted it had to be perfect, how else would people get it Bucky

"Oo, is y/n Elizabeth Swan? That's hot" Tony smirked with a wink while Bucky sighed, "Why do you look stressed, it's a great couples costume-

"HE'S GOT MY EYE! HE WON'T GIVE IT BACK!"

"Jesus"

Bucky could hear the cackling from somewhere in the abyss of people, the sound getting closer and closer.

"Who else could she be, you look terrified Buck, what's-

"I KNOW YOU'RE HERE POPPET"

"Is she-

"Yes. Yes she is"

"Good God"

"Is she Pintel or Ragetti?"

"...both"

"Hello, Poppet" You grinned, scurrying over with a hobble towards your boyfriend, shamelessly eyeing him up and down. "YOU'RE SUPPOSED TO BE DEAD"

"Baby-

"POPPET"

"I-I need the Rum"

[darkdemeter]

𝐒𝐈𝐑𝐄𝐍, 𝐁𝐄 𝐁𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐃 𝐓𝐎 𝐌𝐄 𝐈𝐕:

— BUCKY BARNES COLUMN

Dark Pirate! Bucky Barnes x Siren! Female Reader

—- gifs/images found on pinterest, credit to original posters -—

| A/N | DISCRETION |

Wow, I was expecting y’all to be absolutely ruthless and kill Mina to escape. But a few of you were right on it like hounds, you smart cookies, haha...

SMUT 18+ minors dni — oral receiving (male) — slight breeding kink — dubcon (imma just put this here just in case — possessive, dark bucky — dom/sub dynamic — minor profanity — secondary character death — angst — pet name usage — I think that's it? (There may be some grammar/missed editing, will come back sometime later and fix those mistakes)

| SUMMARY |

He is your captain, and he is holding you prisoner. You are his siren, and your fate is one of bound damnation.

*6.7𝐤 ────────────────┘

| M-LIST | TAGLIST:

@identity2212 @sebastianstansqueen @openup-yourmind @kandis-mom @calwitch @cjand10 @ashdoctor @missmarvelophilic @mostlymarvelgirl @daddy-bucky @thegirlwholoveslivesfanfiction @armystay89 @oscarissac2099 @boobsbeesbongos @wallacewillow0773638

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No. It’s worth weighs not in balance with the shedding of her blood, her very life, and your captain knows he has won. Head bowed low until the tresses of your hair fall about to frame your face like a shroud, hands sheltering the necklace with uncertainty, you turn your head towards your captain and Mina. Your hueful eyes, expressive in their nature of care beyond your own preservation, you would never willingly put your dear friend in the midst of harm. So, with a shake of your head at Mina’s tearful glare that spurs you to flee, you reject your chance of freedom in exchange for hers. 

  Primed still at the exposure of her throat, he guards her while you approach forward, elegantly submissive under the wake of his darkened stare, the bright tinge of blue awaits you with lust and longing. Nearing his side, the golden chain runs over your skin, a strike of pure and cold guilt pushes a burdensome weight on your heart at the passing of sorrowful voices that vanish upon his imprisoning hold.

  “Good girl,” he purrs with a flaunt of his pleased grin. Teeth that render you with possessive marks on display, taunting you with what’s to come. It is with tenderness that the softened caress of your hands meet over the tanned muscle of his hand that harbours death at his whim, eyes pleaful and coaxing with a want for an end to this needless violence; to forget its happening and be in the smothered encompassing of your beloved captain. 

  His fingers curl tighter to the hilt of his blade.   “Please…” Heaven pours the purest of waters into the goblet of a sinful man at the sound of such an angelic plea, fluttering from your parted lips his eyes cannot lessen his want for. As if entranced by the lull of your voice, he nods with a thinned smile of his plump, pink lips and withdraws the bite of metal from her throat. Mina lurches forward, stumbling with a sharp gasp, and you catch her a moment before she can find salvation in revenge. 

  “Young one,” she insists quickly as she latches hold of your wrist. Something resides in her face that pales, along the ridge of her eyes is a thickened beam of tears, but she gives you a smile. One she often adorned to banish your fears. In the etched lines of your confusion, she only smiles wider until the tears can no longer be held at bay, unleashing in finely thinned rivers. 

You mean all to me. I love you. 

  Her body succumbs and melts around you the moment you embrace her. Her arms are a haven around you, a blanket of safety you miss, a sensation you long to have. But she is sudden to pull away, holding her palm up and flat, she gestures for you to move back. 

Go. Now.

  In spite of their grievances and war over you, you see a mutual glance shared between Mina and your captain, her eyes firm in ensued silence but imploring something of him.   “Come, siren,” says Bucky, his strong hands encase you and pull you from Mina, your outstretched hands graze her own that will to entangle with yours, but falter. 

  She nods at you to go with your captain and you allow yourself to sink into the muscled crevice of his side, his hand holstering you flush to him as he guides you back towards the shore. He gives you no chance to let your course of gaze to linger back towards Mina. The low hum of his voice mumbles something to Wanda and the witch grins with an all too eager nod of her head. Now with you in his grasp, he leads you back towards the ship with those of the hunting party following behind. 

  You’re pressed on to move with haste, the salty winds sweep up the sandy embankments with a fearsome bellow that hums deeply in your rings, your robe barely clinging to cover your modesty. Only just over the beach’s mounding crest and through the howl of Nassau’s haunting wind, your body flinches inward to your captain at the echo of a scream that cracks through the swaying palms and over the bounding waves until the sound can travel no further. 

  Your feet run the wooden boards of the cabin at the behest of his forceful hand that shoves you through its threshold, the warrant of his wrath, the price you’ll pay for daring to insult him through your little deception. 

  “You test the bounds of my tolerance and kindness, siren,” he warns behind a bar of gritted teeth, he hisses without remorse for your shedded tears that follow, “You are bound to ME!”

  With fear all-consuming, you fall to your knees, hands press to the scuffed boards’ lining and your chin bows low to levels of his preference. 

  You cry out, the profuse outpour of tears that line your face does little to quell the raging tide of his anger. “I-I’m sorry!”

  “Quiet!” he barks and you reply with naught but a trembling nod. “I’ve been merciful to you. I’ve given you belonging, shelter and security, and this is how you repay all that? With this insult!”

  His height that towers over you like a commanding shadow sinks to kneel before you, the musk of his scent wafts in lingering cascades upon you, encasing you in times that once were; without this consistent turmoil of your curious nature. 

  But that’s what you were: curious. Why your captain holds guardianship over this particular necklace, its mystery undeniable to lure in your want to know, its attention and the way it glimmers and shines in the sunlight’s light. And the now fading voices. This necklace is yours, at least it was at some point in time, a piece of you that now your captain harbours as his own. Through it, somehow, it binds you to him. The key to your imprisonment… but also your freedom. 

  “You’ve to be punished now.” His words spoken levelly bring a chill to wisp down your spine and needle through your skin, sewing a patchwork of unrest into the faint glamour of your receded, softened scales, and your pupils are blown dark and wide with your evident terror. Punishment is never struck on a whim when it comes to your captain. No, punishment is served at the wrong doings, and in performing poorly to his orders, that punishment can vary. But for you, it falls under the same cloth, a figment garment that never holds to you for long. For it is stripped from you as you enact yourself in service until he sees your crimes duly paid in full.   And usually, it is after he has pumped you full, until your cunt is sorely abused and leaking with his seed. 

  Cool metal dances under your chin and before you can find a surmisable amount of courage to fight, he sharply upturns the tilted axis of your eyes to meet his. Ferocious as the battles he orchestrates at sea, and piercingly cold as the wintry peninsula of the arctic that your skin and muscle is butchered until your bones ache. Yet in the delicately lightened pools of his oceanic eyes, lies a strange tenderness. But it is one that never smiles. Never softens. Not in the way Mina implied. For your captain’s heart is a black one, guarded in the fortress of his cruelty. That which he holds you to the level of his eye is not a testament of love. 

  Captain James Barnes, the White Wolf, cannot love. Much to the naivety of your own heart, that soon after broke at this revelation of truth some time ago, you came to accept that in his darkened heart, yearns the ever hungry curse of lust. A hunger you must now feed or forever be enslaved, and mind erased at the coming of his witch’s scarlet magic. 

   “Yes… I do…”

  Your answer is met with a hum of approval, deep and throaty. Over the canvas of his features, there’s a smirk woven into his lips, sly and beautifully sinister in his internal fantasies he makes real upon the unity of your intimacy. You cannot help the blossom of need in your core upon meeting the darkened hue of his eyes that proclaim loudly through the veil of desires unspoken. 

  “Correct answer,” he applauds with another purr accentuating his deep voice, the flutter of your lashes a visible effect of his spell over you. But beneath his praise and all good words that come forth from his lips, you know what answer he seeks newly and intensely. At its mere thought, a power surges through you, a sensation that circuits through the tips of your fingers and down between your legs, gathering a layer of slickness that settles over the wooden floor. 

  “Your child,” you say, lips but a ghost’s touch apart, “your bastard…”

  “There’s a good lass,” he chuckles with a devilish grin and pushes forward, lips smashing onto yours with unparalleled force that drives your spine to curl back, at your hips he pulls you to him. His teeth gnaw and stab, his tongue roughly seeks out the delicate line of your mouth, priming it before his invasion that draws a string of quietened moans from the chasm beneath your breasts. Between them and the hardened peaks at their centres, the idle brush of silver reminds you of his name. Reminds you of whom you are bound to. 

  You whimper at the first lashing of his tongue that threatens yours in intimate combat, and with little will to fight and claim dominance, you allow him to defeat you. He is brutal in the carnage his wet muscle unleashes. Hungrier and hungrier. Closer, you pull yourself to the realm of his lap, crawling in the vice of his passionate indulgence. 

  He all but wraps you in the embrace of his arms and sweeps you up from the floor, pinning you to his hardened, muscular front with a long groan, the taste of your tongue coiling around his enough to make him delirious. Your robe falls from your shoulders and rests in the crook of your elbows, allowing your captain to ravish the nakedness of your shoulders and chest, marking your skin. He suckles, drawing dark pigments to form as a reminder of who it was that could only have you like this. 

Bucky’s quick to thrust you down on the bed. Forced at his will, you’re splayed upon your stomach and he forces your hips to arch up until the curve of your spine is perfectly at level to his liking. 

  “Are you goin’ to be a good girl for me, siren?” The question comes as a dark wave. The scent of his breath washes over you, you can smell the intoxicating flavour of lust. “Are you going to let your womb become swollen?”

  His metal hand comes to lift beneath the flesh of your smooth stomach, resting there. Ever gentle to tease, his fingers dance their way down lower, not quite gracing the needy pulse between your thighs, his cock hard and stiff against the apex of your arse, slowly he grinds up and down. 

  You give an obedient nod and a breathless sigh, “Yes, Captain…”

  He grinds further down against you, having all but ripped the robe from your body, the only barrier between your bodies is the tight confines of his dark trousers that do little to hide the body of his erected length. You shudder beneath the behemoth of his form, his heat poisonously soothing to the cooler temperature of your own. 

  His lips find the delicate, curved shell of your ear as he breezes with a husky hum, “There’s a good little siren.”

  His metal fingers prod at the sensitive mound of your aroused bud, pulling a string of pleasured hisses and whines like a musician plucking the noted hymn of his trusty instrument. His thumb rolls slowly to the rock of the ship as his other fingers toy with the moistened slit of your pussy that craves to have anything he’ll give. 

  You pant heavily, hair mused to falter in unkempt wisps that fall over your eyes. He whispers against the finery of your flesh, praising it over every inch exposed to him. His thumb now rolls harder and his metal digits push between your folds, ignoring the low whine and startled quiver of your thighs that bounce in their shaken balance, teetering over the bed’s edge only to be supported by the pillar of his waist that pummels into you roughly. 

Your eyes flutter to a close, engrossed in the motion of his fingers, the chilling kiss that smoulders the writhing waves of heat of your walls, your core now a blazing furnace that pleads for more. A filthy moan escapes you at the tugging of his expert technique, leaving him to chuckle darkly from behind. 

  “Dirty little whore, aren’t ya?” All you can do is nod in reply, wriggling in his grasp, your hips thrust down on his hand with feverish need. 

  His flesh hand punishes you with a slap, the echoing sound causes you to shriek. Frozen, he then stabilises you with his other hand that bites into the shape of your hip until he’s capable of leaving defined bruising. “You’re at my whim, Siren,” he growls hoarsely, “and you’re still serving your punishment.”

  He knows you near your orgasm. Your impatience to reach it noticeable and just when at the ridge of your climatic bliss, he withdraws his fingers from your cunt. It takes everything you have to not mewl and cry in protest. He turns you to lay on the flat of your spine, up into the glower of his piercing stare, and without so much as blinking, his flesh hand weaves to unfasten the buckle of his belt and tosses the leather strap to the floor with a metallic thunk. With a heavy knee that tips the scales, it pushes down on the mattress along your side with a muffled groan, his body hovers over you. Meanwhile, he invades your mouth with the numerous digits coated in your juices. You moan lowly at the taste that sizzles on your tongue, washing your buds with your sweet nectar. 

  With a simple rustle and tug, his pants fall loosely to gather below his strongly built waist, fabric bunching together to hold fast from falling to the floor too quickly. Free from the tight constraints now, his cock brushes over the navel of his abdomen, the long under-vein pulsing with heated pools of blood and his thick, pink tip oozing with need in the form of pebbling drops of pre-cum. Pushing his hips forward and tearing his metal fingers from your mouth, ignoring the connecting thread of saliva, he pulls your head until your lips bump plushly to his weeping head. His flesh hand traces the contour of your jawline with ghosting touch, your hair becomes ravelled tightly in the locked grip of his other.

  “Let’s see how well you sing when my cock is fucking your throat,” he says beneath a wheezing chuckle. He growls then, still humoured by his remark, “Open.”

  Your defiance to obey his command is futile. Somehow, you know this, though you believe you’ve never tried. Contact locked between your eyes, your pliant lips part and sink around his enormous girth, barely able to tolerate far before you’re already caught gagging. He laughs at your attempt to take him whole, always amused at the sighted struggle written into every inch and crevice of your face. Now that he thinks about it, it has been some time since he’s taken you down the throat, his flesh hand rolls from your jaw and down the side columns of your neck with the continuation to submerge his cock further in. Beneath his calloused fingers, your neck swells and the skin protrudes as his cock intrudes until finally, your nose brushes the dark curls of his base. 

  Your lashes are darkened and wet by the stream of tears lining the brim of your eyes, nose flaring aggressively for even a morsel of air. 

With a tilt of his chin he indicates for you to begin, his eyes warning of greater punishment if you decide otherwise. You slowly pull your head back, the stiffness of his hardened length running against the walls of your throat and mouth, covering every inch possible. As much as you can, you barely allow your teeth to tease him, fearful of what he’d do if you got any ideas with your sharp incisors. Rumbling with a pleasured groan, your captain snaps his hips sharply to sheathe himself again, much to a shattered, muffled whine coming from you. Your pace is too slow. And so, with a twist of your locks, he rolls his hips back and forth in a pace set to his liking, adoring the flow of tears streaming down your face. You continue to cough and gag, throat tightening in pulsing waves that quicken yet fade the longer you go without sufficient air. 

  “F-fuck, siren,” he groans as his head dips back, hair licking down the nape of his neck in long, dark tresses. His hips roll faster and his fingers hold tight to feel the quickened strike of his cock that surges back and forth inside you, your moans growing louder and lost in a whirlwind and blissful agony. 

  “Every drop, little Siren— sh-shit!” he thrusts harder at the filthy image of his spent spilling from the enclosure of your jaw and trickling down your neck in artistic rivers. The frantic course of his thrusts causes an obscene amount of sound to echo through the room, the slickened gargle of your hot, tiny mouth trying to accommodate his size through what little intake of air you can harvest, your cheeks flushed a bright hue of red that rivals that of the blood of his enemies. His lips part with a series of gasps and deep moans pumped from his chest, his release soon upon him. 

  “Drink— it all up– love,” he utters with a string of curses soon following his order. His grip seizes hold to the roots and your scalp burns, your discomforted whine drowned out by the flood of his seed that shoots past your tongue and straight into the bowel of your belly without restraint. His spent comes in tidal waves of hotness, unable to register his taste entirely, thick ropes of his cum paint and coat the walls of your mouth, leaving naught but a messy web of his release to coagulate once he withdraws. 

  In sight of you with your mouth full of him, he smirks, a dark and wicked thing to behold to and beneath the smouldering, glassy gaze that’s coal-like; fearsomely burning in his reverie of desire. He sighs a sound so deep it rumbles off his tongue like the fine course of a flowing river. 

  “How beautiful you are… on your knees and full of my love.”

  Love? 

  Is that what his seed is a representation of? You blink, wet and dark lashes beating damp markings against the undercurve of your eyes, he sees the surprise in your enlarged pupils.

  He cannot mean ‘love’. He is not capable of it…

  But how you wish he was. Oh, what you would give for this man to be able to love. To actually know the fine line between material treasures and true, unbridled and passionate love. Funny, how a siren wishes internally for the concept of love and to be loved, the very essence of that emotion only comes to that of the affectionate sisterhood of other sirens. A bond that envelops through both scales and soul. 

  A bond that, if severed, can have lasting impacts on the heart and mind. So much so, that a siren’s song can turn into one of longing sorrow and despair, and when that essence of love and lust is gone, there is no longer a song.

  Only the sounds of cries and shrill screams that echo in the mists, void of any emotion other than vengeance and rage. 

  He summons your attention with a sharp whistle that pierces the veil of your thoughts, ringing loud and clear in your ears. 

  “Eyes up, siren. I wanna see those eyes on me when I fuck you.” 

  Upon capturing the colour of your eyes, the casted amber glow from the candles reflecting in glittering highlights, his smirk only grows into a toothy grin that pulls the seams around his eyes to crinkle slightly. He watches with keen interest as you gulp down each swallowing of his cum, until the gaping blackness of your throat is all that remains, leaving a thin coating behind. 

  “How do I taste, little siren?”

  “G-good… Captain,” you answer, voice shaken. Broken in and slightly roughened. Something that stirs his pride greatly. His lips brush the velvety texture of your moan, memorising each stroke to memory with a drunken groan. 

  Intoxicated by the venom of his attention, you’re powerless as he leans over you, knees bent into the bed on either side of you, caging you beneath him. His hands, a mix of metal and flesh - a combination of cold and warm - follow the curvature of your jaw and sweep down your neck, following the natural dips and bends of your body. Over the linen of his loosely ruffled blouse, your hands are gentle in their tug, pulling at it. 

  Amused by your antics, Bucky leans back a moment and peels the shirt over his large shoulders, your eyes drink in the scarred field of his muscular body, the dark line of hair trailing down to the base of his cock that revives and flourishes with a heated, deep pink tint. 

  In your moment of jaw-slackened admiration, Bucky’s lips delve to the crook of your neck, nose nestling in deep to inhale your alluring scent that mingles and rubs with his own, husky growls emit from some deep chamber within him in his frenzy to claim every inch of you he can. With a pivot of his hips that move forward, he excites your weeping and desperately aching core with the enthralling length of his cock, a stone striking against stone to bring a sparking ember. 

  Your nails carve red streaks over his inked skin, muscle ripples beneath the pads of your fingers and he hisses deliciously, a sound you swallow with greed. 

  “Look at you,” he mumbles against your jaw, peppering your chin and the corner of your lips with kisses. “Taking what’s yours. You’re learning to be as black hearted as I.”

  Never has he applauded you in such a way. Not once has he rewarded this behaviour with praise and amusement. It’s always him that’s been dominant, to triumph over you. But not a moment too soon can you be lost to this idea that he wanes in his power, for his teeth sink deep between your neck and shoulder, enough to draw the bitter iron taste of your blood, you wince under the heavy pressure of his mark. “But I’ll always be the one on top.”

  “Yes, Captain,” you gasp quickly to the beat of his growl. His tongue soothes his bite before he takes one of your swollen peaks between his plush lips, tongue darting over it. Your moans are music to his ears. Granting the same treatment to the other before he turns you over, his actions rough with a grunt, he stares a moment upon the bareness of your spine, the ever-faint shimmer of softened scales reflect differing hues of greens, blues and pinks against the colour of your skin. 

  Your face brushes firmly over the furs and silks to peer past and over your shoulder, up at the darkened frame of your captain, eyes darkened and lost to the storm of his lust. 

  His large head spears teasingly at your entrance, lips quivering in anticipation and attempting to latch hold, to knock his tip within grasp. He scoffs at the pitiful display below him, your whines and broken mewls a song of your dependence on him. You’d never survive without him, he grins darkly at the thought. You rely too much on him now, stripped of everything you knew before, he holds you in the palm of his hand and at his tether. An obedient plaything.

  At the swift motion of your hips, Bucky dips back, your attempt failing miserably with an exasperated sigh. “Now, siren,” he coos, cocking a brow you barely see, you hear the infatuation that laces his tone. “I want you to beg for it. You sound so beautiful when you do.” 

  “Please,” you whimper that stifles at the reward of his tip brushing your aroused lips. You whine again, louder, “Please!” 

  The snap of his hips is quick and he thrusts hard, pushing the breath from your lungs in the form of  a breathless scream that winds you. Buried almost to his haired base within one go, he pushes what remains until his cock nestles snugly in your pulsing walls that constrict around his girth; choking in with dire need. 

  “Fuckin— hell–” he bites down into his lip with a deep hiss as he draws his hips back, only to then repeat the first slaughtering wave that penetrated you, another gust of breath pushed from your lungs. You cough, spluttering and moaning in muffled choruses when he picks up the pace, driving his cock in and out, the sound drowning your eardrums with only the backdrop of his voice threads through, you’re practically deaf to your own noises. 

  “So t-tight–” he chokes out, the impact of his thrusts increases until your body shuffles back and forth, his hands squeeze to your hips to keep you from moving across the bed from his ruthless pace. Arching himself that bit higher and angling you with him, your ears pop and ring with a scream that tears through your vocal cords, loud enough to be heard from outside the cabin, no doubt. 

  “Like that, siren? Right there, is that where— shit, where you— need me?” 

  You cry out in reply, voice barely able to form the words,   “U-uh– yes!”

  The tightness that ripples through your body and heats your skin begins to form, the weaving of your orgasm soon nearing, your only hope that he grants you it this time, you continue to appeal to him, begging him for more and more until your cunt aches from the constant pummeling of his drive. Each time your walls squeeze around him, it’s tighter than the last, a telltale that your body is ready to let go. 

  “Cap–Captain!” you gasp into the sheets with a deep, longing moan. “Please… oh, please…”

  His lips tug at the corners into a devilish grin, fingers embedding themselves to bruise your hips. “You want to cum?”

  You cannot bring yourself to answer lest you scream again and break your voice for good, he sees the intense bop of your head. 

  “Cum for me, little siren, cum on my cock,” he barks and you follow his command. Like the pulling current of the forbidden and dark maelstrom, you release yourself with a heavy and breathless moan as you cum. His own pouring of his seed follows within seconds of your own, your walls drinking every drop of him until he’s all but spent inside you. He grunts from behind, a series of laborious noises, he begins to slow his hips but doesn’t cease to a complete stop. 

  His hips roll slowly until he grinds circles, his cock still embedded deeply into your abused pussy that’s stuffed full of him and his cum, all but weeping around him in hopes of leaking out. Your skin is duly from the thin layer of sweat coating you like a second skin, your chest heaves for air after having been robbed of every single breath, but the trace of his lips brings you pause.

  He’s not done with you just yet. 

  Glasses of sand pass through hours of unrelenting torture, brought out through orgasmic bliss and pleasures and pain, all until both he and you were beyond another round. Your entire body felt broken in, shaking with nerves frazzled and your muscles tense after trying to claw your way out of his grasp - for even just a moment of reprieve - but he’d dragged you back to him from your ankles and pinned you down. 

  Left in darkness, the candles having lost their will and wick to burn,  you blink through the overhanging shroud of sleep that clings to you. Your body remains to recover and you struggle to crane yourself to even rest on your elbow and peer down at your captain. Asleep on the plane of his back, his chest rises slowly with deep inhales and breezing exhales. His metal hand lazily holds against the hind of your arse, every so often giving it a firm grip. His other hand rests on the rise of his toned stomach, the gold barely noticeable in the dark, the pearl emits a dim glow. The voices, however, sing a dying symphony that are barely heard above your breath. 

  You draw closer until you half straddle over his waist, your fingers comb over the veins of his hand and wrist, down and over his thick, strong fingers, ringing the chain loose until the necklace is held in your palms once again. You’d done all to tire him out to near completion so that he’d not be as alert as any other time. Now all you cling onto is hope that your plan is not one of failure. 

  Your nails grow from the beds and sharpen, eyes flickering between his sleeping features and the necklace, your hand hovers above him. 

  The air is thick in your lungs, tense as you scan for a place to safely gather enough blood that he won’t notice in his sleep. Your eyes and hand move down the length of his body until they reach the apex of his lower abdomen, grazing just near the trail of dark hair, your claws slash an opening. Pouring in thin, bleeding streams, you coat the pearl quickly. The pearl glows brighter now, the taste of crimson allows the white to fight through the hue of red, adorning a pinkish colour. You move to sit, balancing half way atop your captain, you next move to your palm, your sharpened fang punctures into the tender flesh of your other palm, you swallow a pained hiss. 

  With a final glance towards your sleeping captain, you’re aware there will be no going back from this. Mina’s sacrifice will not be in vain. You lay the pearl into the thin pool of blood, the pearl beats with glowing life that compares to that of the full moon, the song returning to levels now louder, revived from their near death. 

  Through the ripples of time, a white flush blinds you with a vision.

  Brightly, the sun lays high and over the ocean that moves in ever-rolling waves, the ripples form on its surface with unrest, a vast world of different shades of blue, all a-mingling together in harmony. The ocean envelops you - welcomes you - and your tail thrashes in excited beats that leave behind a fading cloud of bubbles. 

  Around you, faces greet you with fanged smiles, wistful and playful eyes that are soft in their tender gaze that hold to you. 

  Faces you find yourself remembering now, but their names evade you. 

  Breaking the ocean’s surface, the sun drowns your vision with bleeding heat, your brows scrunch but your grin is present and full. A sense of great excitement buzzes throughout your entire body, stomach alight with wonderment, you wonder… What is this feeling about?

  Then you see her and you now know. Her stature is grand and towering, she too breaks through the barrier between worlds with a hum of contentment, her features warmed in the blazing sun’s light. Her hair falls down over her shoulders in long, cascading tendrils, braided with dazzling ornaments and a variety of shells, each one a treasured gift presented, a crown forged in mystic metal shines. 

  Her eyes are giant pools of amber, a stark contrast when she resides in her kingdom below the waters and in the abyssal midnight. Eyes that are forever watchful and guarding, ever-seeing and always brimming with unfaltering love. 

  “Children,” she sings low and slowly, a note of adoration in her voice. All those of siren-kind are known as her children, but for you, you are one whose blood is annointed. From her womb, years ago, she shed tears of happiness. A child to whom she’d come to name Y/N. Daughter, and princess, of sirens. 

  Around her waist is the cycle of sirens that envelop her, circling her in their gladness to see her emerge from the depths below, every so often does she make her way to the surface, only for special occasions. Those who do not rush to swim circles around her, they gather onto the lagoon rocks. 

  “My beloved children,” again she coos soothingly with a rolling lullaby. But her eyes are sudden to sink, her smile is then to vanish as an abrupt wave of panic consumes her. Her amber eyes turn towards the horizon behind you and her form blacks out the sun, covering you in her looming shadow. 

“Submerge—!”

Screams of a thousand voices echo into the sky and ripple through the water as spiralling currents that pierce you like blades. Her body bends forward at the bombardment of fire upon her, her neck cranes forward with a reverberating cry, her pain is felt by all.

  Yet she pleads for her children to delve below, to hide beneath the blackened blue that no humans would dare to venture lest they succumb to their demise. 

  Ships break into view, bouncing on the waves as tyrants. Breakers of peace. “Mother!” you shout, a webbed hand outstretched only to turn swiftly at the ship headed straight for you. The sight of a carven lady poised at the hull’s front, adorned in a skinned pelt of a wolf upon her head, you’d recognise it anywhere. The Avenger. The ship continues at you, leaving you no choice but to dive out of the way just before her front could bruise and slay you bluntly. 

  Your vision succumbs to a flurry of bubbles and darkness, only to re-awaken above the waves, the sky now traded for night. The moon is full, clouds unable to restrain its light for long in passing and the inky black canvas is riddled with sparkling, silver gems. 

  The Avenger’s anchor is reeled in with haste, panic ensues within the form of night and battle commences between that of your kind and the species that dwells on land, that which you prey upon: Man. 

  Those of your small clustered hunting party are hunted, spears puncture through the water until they sink into flesh or fall to the trench’s deep. You swerve, turn swiftly to be missed, but some aren’t so fortunate as you. 

  You came here to hunt and your quarry is what you’ll drag to the depths. Barreling upwards, a tunnel of water sprays about you as you launch yourself airborne, high and overarching towards the helm where you’d last seen him. 

Fangs bared into a hissing scream, slitted eyes of a predator bear into the frame of a tall man with dark, long hair and your clawed hands stretch out in your attack. A voice of one of his crew yells for his attention a moment too late. His blue eyes come to find yours just as you land atop him, pinning him to the wooden railing before pushing him overboard. You have him pinned, your grasp tight on your prey that escaped you just a few moments ago in the disturbed peace of his cabin, he struggles against you. 

  You immediately begin to burrow your claws into his shoulder to fight him, teeth gnawing on his flesh and through bone, but still he fights back with waning strength and breath, eyes a pure kind of blue that outmatch the palette around his soon-to-be grave. A whirling of crimson follows him down, his weight shifts in the balance to your favour at the loss of his arm that sinks into the depths below. 

  His lips part and pockets of air come from them in large bubbles, his lids begin to close and you grant him a sweetened smile, eyes half lidded in your victory that is sudden to end at the grasp of his hand around your throat and the cutting robe of a net that encompasses you both.

  In your battle to wriggle free, his arm wraps around you as the net is dragged upwards and towards the hull. Air from the world fills your chest and the once dark sky of a starlit night is returned to day. Around you, ships blast cannon fire and the air is polluted by smoke and the overpowering, scented winds of gunpowder. 

  Those familiar faces now are lifeless, eyes dull and lifeless and staring as blood poisons the sea around them, turning into murky clouds of crimson around you. It forces you to the surface and the moment you do, a voice shouts through the fabric of slaughter, the screams of your pod an orchestra of death and torment. 

  Your head turns to the direction of your mother, who battles the fleet of ships, a brutal display of annihilation only to then be fired upon and lurch forward, the being of her wounds worsens under the attack. Her eyes find yours amidst the chaos and you begin your way to her. 

  “You must flee!” she yells, a hand stretches out for you in warning to then shield you from a dozen harpoons with a harrowing call of whistles. Tears mist your vision before a spray of more fire separates you, driving you under the water and occasionally leaping through the air momentarily to avoid getting lost in the tainted, bloody waters. 

  You dare not look back, not as smoke rides over and veils your mother, not as her cries of battle turn further into the pain she’s subjected to nor the crashing wave of her body that falters and ripples through the ocean until it shudders the earth’s core. 

  But that same ship hunts you, the carven lady with a wolf’s pelt chases you over the unending sheets of raging waves, driving you further and further away from your family, your friends; all that you held dear. The many newborns that were attending the grand ball of daylight would never come to know their second. The choir would never sing your harmonic tunes as the sun faded over the ocean’s horizon. Never would you see your mother’s loving gaze attend you or her other precious children. 

  Never again would siren society be the same, without its queen, and without its people. Launching yourself out and into harm’s way to avoid another blooded cloud, you hear his voice shout, “Alive! I want her alive!”

  Your head turns and your eyes widen at the flash of scarlet that comes towards you, rendering you unconscious. 

  Him. It’d been him all along. Him, as he now stares at you with eyes a fearsome burn of darkened blue, awake and alert to your doings. You hardly come to realise the soaking streams of tears that run down your cheeks and drip onto his stomach, each one shed in the regaining of your memory. Remembering that which was all lost to you. Taken from you. By him.

  “Y/N, my love,” he affirms with a raise of his hands, each one cupping the wet curve of your jaw between them, the ominous and often looming storm in his eyes lays distantly. He coddles you now with his affections. “Pearl… I did it all for you. Because I love you.”

  Your head bends forth to rest in the crook of his neck, chests bare and pressed together, your breaths are shallow tremors that turn into muffled chords of weeping sorrow. Come morning, scarlet will rot your knowledge and turn you blind once again. But for now, you relish in his confession whilst you ponder: does his love justify his means?

For now, you will bide your time. Live another day… and sate your everloving vengeance.

────────────────

Well, we've reached the conclusion of our tale, readers. To think this all started with a single oneshot that was meant to just be a sole piece. But some of you wanted more and thus, this au grew a little more.

I thank you all for reading this series, I'm glad that it's provided some source of entertainment for you, it's been a pleasure. You readers have a lovely time now, remember to be nice to your fellow tumblrs and give your biggest love and support for your writers!

Captain Barnes and Pearl wish you happy reading and writing, Tumblrs 💙

[lunaroserites]

It's a Pirate's Life For Me (Bucky x Reader)

Pairing: Pirate!Bucky x Mermaid!Reader (Fem)

Characters: Bucky, Steve, various other characters

Summery: Bucky is infatuated with a mermaid he seen years prior.

Not sure how long this will be it's for Mermay.

No use of YN

Warnings: Not beta'd! All mistakes are my own. Implied/referenced SA, Pirates, vulgarity, swearing, fighting, death, violence, blood.

Word Court: 6134

Likes, reblogs, and comments are appreciated! ❤️

Please do not repost, translate or otherwise copy my work elsewhere, without my express permission, thank you! Lunaroserites on tumblr and ao3

The sea was calm, the full moon casting an ethereal light across the water. The North Star high in the sky, a guiding point for the young boy waiting for his father to come home, because no matter how far apart they might be, they could always see the North Star. 

Mother had always said that a calm sea meant trouble was afoot, but he couldn’t bring himself to  believe her, how could something so calm and vast be troublesome. The depths unknown as he peered down at it from the safety of the dock. Then he saw it, a fin, colourful but gone as soon as he saw it. He blinked rapidly and quickly ran to look for whatever fish he saw swimming around the dock but he couldn’t find it again. 

The sound of a horn caught his attention as his fathers ship sailed into the alcove from the vast open sea. He jumped excitedly as his fathers ship steered in and docked a short while later. The sea was no longer calm as waves and ripples spread across the once still surface. 

His father descended the plank that was placed down quickly, the boy jumped and danced around his father who looked like he was thousands leagues away. 

“Hush boy, go to your mother. I’ll be in later,” his father dismissed him quickly, taking a sharp right to the beach and to the other side of the ship. The boy, curious, quietly followed and hid in the shadows. He saw a body hit the water with a splash, and then it was dragged ashore, wrapped in a trap and was dragged to the forest that surrounded the cove they called home. He quickly followed behind the group of men, staying  hidden and out of the way. 

“What do we do with her Captain?” He peered out from a bush and saw what was wrapped in the trap. A large colourful fin laid in a small pool of water, with the torso of a woman draped over a rock as moon light filtered through an opening and cast an eerie glow around her. She was breathing heavily, and silvery blood glowed in the moon light from a fatal looking wound on her side, the flesh hanging from her. 

“Kill her, but take the scales. They’re worth more than gold,” the boy heard his father say and he gasped loudly at the harshness of his fathers words. Heads whipped toward him but he darted back toward the beach and home. He wasn’t caught, but his heart was pounding as he climbed into bed. 

~Two Days Later~

Curiosity got the better of him, as he found himself back in the clearing he had witnessed his father condemn the creature to death. He wanted to see if the corpse was there, maybe find one of the scales. But what he found instead was the creature barely clinging onto life with more than half her scales missing and she gasped and croaked under the moonlight. 

He approached cautiously and crept around her body, and observed her. She had a green blue tail, with smaller fins coming off it, she almost looked like a jellyfish with all her little tendrils. He was enraptured by her very existence, her hair was blonde, bone dry and caked with mud, she was facing away from him but he couldn’t help but picture what her face would look like. The sound of a snapping twig that he accidentally stepped on gave him away and her head instantly snapped in his direction. 

He yelped in surprise as her large eyes glared at him, he took a tentative step toward to get a closer look at her, that’s when she snarled and her once human looking hand morphed to claws and she swiped at him harshly, dragging the claws down his arm and ripping the flesh easily. He screamed in agony and she dropped back onto the rock and cried, silvery tears leaked from her eyes onto the rock, the sound of a gun shot rang through the night and she was gone. 

He unconsciously traced along the scars from her claws and shivered at the thought of the creature. That night he found out his father was a pirate, not a privateer with the navy like he had been told. He learned from him over the next decade, learned how to be a pirate, run a ship, get gold and riches. But he could never get the look on that creature's face out of his mind. She was terrified, alone and scared, his father killed her for what she did to his arm. 

He was home now, a short stop in the alcove he loved more than anything, visiting his mother after spending months at sea with his father learning the ropes. 

The sea was calm tonight, calm sea means trouble's afoot he never forgot his mothers words after all these years later. After spending nights at sea, it was rarely calm and it put him on a slight edge. The water surface broke suddenly but whatever did it was nowhere to be seen, he squinted as he tried to track how the water moved and where the ripples were freshly coming from. 

He took off running toward a small lagoon that was attached to the open ocean that he would explore when he was young. Once he broke through the clearing he was greeted with a sight he couldn’t ever forget. Long hair cascading down her back and beautifully long tail and fins that glistened under the moonlight. 

The scars on his arm tingled as he watched her. He took a few steps toward the water's edge and it lapped at his leather boots softly. Her head turned suddenly and she gasped, jumping back into the water out of view. 

“Wait,” his voice died in his throat as he searched for her. Then he saw her eyes, peering at him over the rock she had been previously sitting in. She looked terrified of him. “Please. I don’t want to hurt you,” he said softly, reaching his arms out in a show of affection, he wanted to be unthreatening and make her come out from hiding. 

He watched her squint, scrutinising him from behind the rock. Her eyes shining under the moon, almost glowing. He should hate these creatures, he had seen what happened when they got their claws into the minds of men, dragging his fellows to their watery graves to devour their hearts. But here he was trying to coax one out of hiding. 

He wasn’t surprised by her wariness, man and merfolk have never gotten along. So she probably just assumed he wanted to coax her into the shallows and then drag her on land and kill her once he had stripped her of her scales. 

He watched her hand move as she skirted around the rock she hid behind, he could see her own curiosity swirling in her eyes. She skimmed around and barely lifted her body from the water, just her eyes and forehead showing as she came around the rock. 

“Men,” their words felt odd on your tongue, “men lie,” you stuttered out. You watched his eyes widen at your broken English, humans knew little of your people. They were excellent linguists, and navigators, with beauty beyond comparison. You moved slowly, closer to him, not going as far as the sandy shallow, but close enough you would be able to fully scrutinise his form. He was tall, broad and strong, his hair chin length and his eyes were a piercing blue that cut through the night like a dagger. 

You flicked your tail, the water splashed and rained down in the moonlight, you watched him curiously. He watched you back, bewildered or bewitched. Which you couldn’t really tell. Your mind screamed to either start the siren song and drag this man to the depths and devour his heart or get the hell out of there. But you wanted to stay and learn about this man. 

“We do,” he said softly, his white shirt shifting in the soft breeze, the ties loose showing up tanned skin and defined muscle. He was definitely a pirate, no privateer looked like that. “I assure you though, I mean no harm,” he finished. 

You squinted again, unsure. Not daring to come closer, you  lifted out of the water further, your neck becoming exposed, the small frilly gills there shifted and closed so you could breathe air through your mouth. He watched in complete awe as your gills disappeared. “Why?” You asked, your throat felt dry, like you had sand trapped in it. 

“Because, you’re beautiful,” he said simply. He reached again and you shy back, pressing to the rock again. He would be easy to get to do as you pleased, with how careless he was being. There was a reason men despised your species, all you had to do was sing and his blood would sing the siren's song for the rest of his life if you choose not to kill him. He would never be able to be satisfied, his life would be ruined for any other pleasures. But you didn’t. You couldn’t. There was something innocent about the young pirate, he was not yet hardened by the burdens of life at sea. 

You slowly approached closer, ready to swim back to the safety of the deeper waters. Once further in the sandy banks, about five feet in front of the man you locked eyes again. 

You lifted your torso up from the water and watched as his eyes studied your form, he seemed eager to see more of you. In a bold move you lifted your shiny tail from the water and moved it. The fins glistened in the moonlight, the colours dancing across his eyes. He was completely enraptured by it. He noted your tail looked different from one a decade ago, you also wore coverings on your heavy chest, you had jewelled bangles on your arms and a few shelled necklaces around your neck, your fingers had some rings. Your ears had a slight point to them and your face was stunning. 

“What is your name?” He asked softly, as he took a few more steps into the shallows, closing the distance more, instinctively you backed up from him. You didn’t know how to say your name in his native tongue, so you shrugged and watched him. 

“I’m James, people call me Bucky,” he said, stopping so you would stop moving away. 

“Bucky,” you rolled the word around your mouth for a moment. Then you heard the distant sound of another approaching. You immediately pushed back, but not before pulling a small scale from your tail and wedging it between the rocks, it would gleam under the moonlight. And just like that you were gone. 

“Wait,” his voice died as he heard the tell-tale sign of someone approaching. 

“There you are, your father is losing his mind looking for you,” Steve’s voice echoed around the now empty lagoon. As Bucky turned to leave the thigh high water and retreat back to shore he noticed the faint glint in the water. Reaching down he snagged the scale and admired it a moment before tucking it in his pocket and joining his friend and heading back to the beach where his father waited. 

The scale felt heavy in his pocket, he felt its weight all the time. He has worn a small divot in the scale from rubbing it all the time when he was worried, or there was a lull in work on the ship. He kept it hidden though, how could he explain he found such a pretty thing without giving it away, he broke one of the cardinal rules of piracy, when he found her he should have trapped her, stripped her scales and killed her. But instead he kept her secret and held onto the scale. On nights of full moons he would admire it in the moonlight, it would shimmer differently in the moon than it did in the sun.

The sea was calm tonight while he watched the deck, watching over the crew as they finished nightly duties, the moon high in the sky and full. A shiver ran down his spine as he looked over the still water as the moon reflected off it. Something felt wrong and he couldn’t quite place it. Then he heard it, it was faint at first, soft like a cotton quilt as it whispered through the night like a soft breeze and it slowly grew louder. The men on deck heard it and rushed to the sides of the ship trying to catch a glimpse of those responsible for the song. 

“Cover your ears you fools!” He shouted loudly, trying to project his voice louder than the siren song. He quickly shoved the cotton he kept on hand into his ear canals to block the song out. It was too late for some of them, the sirens had crawled up the side of the ship, they had dug their claws into the minds of these men and dragged them over the side of the boat without any protest. 

His father rushed from the cabin, shoving cotton in his ears and tossing a pistol at his first mate. They went to war against the sirens whose hands shifted to claws and swiped toward anyone that pointed a gun at them. This was a whole pod of them, at least 15 circling the ship, ready to drag it to the briny depths. He looked over the edge, aiming a shot at the purplish tail he saw swim through silvery water as their spilled blood glistened in the moonlight. Their song was getting louder and louder, the cotton almost not enough to protect his ears. 

There was a sickening crack that echoed through the silent night. The ship shifted and he felt it sinking as it took water on quickly. “Dad!” He shouted as he grabbed his fathers arm and tried to drag him to a life raft so they could try and escape the sinking ship. 

“No boy, a captain goes down with his ship,” his father roared. He shoved a sack in his son's arms, he was pulled backwards and thrown overboard next to the life raft, his best friend following behind, cutting a rope for the raft that fell next to them.  

The shock of the cold water as he hit it made him jolt and thrash as the weight of the bag dragged him down in the icy depths. His eyes burned as he tried to see into the dark sea, the salt stinging them further. He felt the current change rapidly, something was circling him and fast, he wiped around trying to find whatever it was. His eyes were useless in the briny darkness. This thrashing and turning were quickly draining his energy and he was losing his oxygen fast. 

He felt something grip his ankle and pull him, he thrashed and kicked out, he felt something connect and the hand gripping his ankle was gone, he tried to swim up but the bag was pulling him further down. He refused to leave it behind. As he looked up through the dark sea he saw the moon shining down over him, then a set of striking eyes and a body covered the moonlight. Hands gripped his shoulders and hauled him upwards. 

He gasped loudly and coughed himself awake. He was face down in the sand, the bag his father gave him next to him and no one around him. The grainy sand made his skin itch, he tried to move but his body felt weak, he was exhausted and parched. 

“Holy shit!” He heard a voice yell, the sound of splashing water and then he felt hands grip his shoulders and haul him upright, the arms wrapped around him tightly and he felt cool tears on his cheek. 

“You’re alive, I thought we lost you, you were being dragged down to the depths, how?” Steve was rambling, he hugged him tighter. “God I’m so glad you’re alive.” 

“My dad,” Bucky croaked, “my dad, is he..?” His voice trailed off. Steve gave him a solemn look and nodded. 

“Him and most of the crew. The Morning Star is gone too. They’re in Davy Jones' locker now, god rest their souls,” Steve said softly. “The sirens took her down.” Bucky nodded and groaned. His head was pounding and his throat was dry as desert. 

Eight Years Later 

You watched from your hiding spot as they off loaded, medicine, on to the port. You had been curious about this crew since they made port yesterday, most of the things they were off loading were for the benefit of the people and they were not charging handsomely for the supplies. That part baffled you even more, most men were greedy, pirates more so. 

The Daybreak as the ship was named, looked to be a modified frigate. That allowed it to be agile and quick while still housing powerful weapons. Nothing like the Queen Anne’s Revenge or other large pirate ships that usually docked here. The people of the port seem to respect the crew of this ship a lot though, maybe they come here often. 

You had yet to spy the captain of this vessel though, the reason you were so close, too close, to the port was because you were curious if the man you saved 8 years ago would show his face on one of the many boats. He was the boy you met 12 years ago. You had saved him from an early watery grave when your sisters attacked his ship, you were supposed to drag him down, eat his heart but as you swam around him and he kicked your sister in the face you had wanted to look in his eyes before you killed him. But you couldn’t, the moment you saw those stormy blues you knew it was him from the lagoon. He let you live once and didn’t harm you, and you owed him a debt. The sea did not take kindly to owed debts. So you saved him, a life for a life. A debt repaid. 

You had tried finding him again at the lagoon but he rarely made port there and from what you could tell the alcove was abandoned shortly after his fathers ship was sunk by your sisters. So you visited the busier ports hoping to catch a glimpse of him again. 

That’s where you messed up, you were too close to the port so you could try and spy on the pirates. You were not hidden enough and the moonlight glinted off your tail just right and caught the eye of a pirate that just so happened to be walking past. You didn’t notice him, but he was quick to make note and let some of the other crew know. 

Curiosity got the better of you since this ship had been docked for 3 days there was no sign of the captain at all. What captain doesn’t leave their ship while at port. Against your better judgement and if your sisters had seen you they would have lost their minds, you swam up to the ship once the night was in full swing. Most of the crew would either be sleeping or on shore enjoying the comforts of women and booze. 

There was a full moon tonight that slowly dropped down so the sun could rise, and the sea was calm. You should have heeded the warning signs but foolishly you crept around the ship far too close to the surface trying to spy the captain of the magnificent beast. 

Bucky held the scale in his hand as the full moon light glimmered through the open window. It shimmered brilliantly under the moon. It felt heavier than usual tonight, it was almost humming. The scale was a curious trinket and very few knew he had it. His first mate and best friend Steve being one of them, and the swamp witch. He had lost it once, and his heart and chest felt like it was going to explode. The swamp witch said that his connection with the scale with other worldly and the siren that had left it with him probably bewitched it. Or he was somehow connected to the siren herself. But tonight it almost felt like the scale was singing to him. 

“Captain,” Steve said in a hushed tone as he entered the quarters, “something is amiss with the crew. I fear they’re planning something.” Bucky nodded and waved his hand to dismiss him, Bucky was too focused on the scale he held in the fading moonlight. Steve shook his head and left the cabin. 

You gave up soon and decided to cut your losses and get away from the ship and retreat to a secluded cave not far from the docks for the rest of the night. You didn’t notice the crewmen following your glistening scales. Once inside the cave, the water is much shallower than the ocean. You laid your head down and stretched your tail out and relaxed. 

Something heavy was thrown on top of you and woke you immediately. You thrashed and flailed around trying to get free as an inhuman screech left your mouth. It was a net, “dose her,” someone shouted as you thrashed. Something sharp struck your hip area and you nearly passed out all fight and drive stolen from you. You felt yourself fold as the net was gathered and hauled through the water as they pulled you to god knows where. 

“Easy does it men,” someone said, your head was pounding and you felt incredibly groggy and weak. You were thrown to the ground and slid across the deck and hit the wall of the ship, you were pulled back to the centre quickly and they pulled the net off you. You looked around frantically, you tried to move your tail but it felt like it weighed 1000 lbs. 

You quickly tried to pull yourself across the deck and fall overboard but a scream left your throat suddenly as a sword was jammed into your fin and into the floorboard keeping you in place. You looked around at the group of men that surrounded you with greedy eyes. 

“What is the meaning of this?” Someone barked as they pushed through the crowd. He was blonde and the moment your eyes connected he gawked at you for a moment before shouldering out of the way and heading toward the captains quarters. 

“Those scales will fetch a mighty fine amount of gold,” some of the crewmen said, licking his lips as his eyes roved over your body. 

“What is going on?” A new voice boomed and all the crewmen immediately stood at attention. He came into view and your breath hitched. It was him, it was the man from before. You couldn’t believe your eyes. He looked at you and immediately recognized you, there was something dark in his eyes as he stared at you, but it was gone as fast as it appeared. 

“Bloody hell,” his eyes were wide as you looked you over, you felt incredibly exposed and turned to cover yourself. He pulled the sword from your fin, and you pulled your tail close to you. You felt a burn in your tail as the sun of the morning beat down on it, the scales dropping and disappearing the longer you sat there. 

“Captain!” Someone shouted, your tail was disappearing as everyone gawked and human legs started to form. He stared at you wide eyed as legs appeared like magic before him. 

In an attempt to get away you scrambled your feet and tried to get away. Never having used feet or legs before you didn’t make it far and fell down. The crew laughed, but quickly stopped at the captain's fierce gaze. He was taking his coat off as he took a few cautious steps toward you, he threw it on top of you and stepped back quickly as you bared your teeth to him.

“Who’s idea was this?” The captain growled as he looked around at his crew. Everyone was silent. “I asked a question.” 

“It was I sir,” someone stepped forward. “I saw her snooping around the ship and followed her. We caught her and brought her here,” he finished. 

“What did I say about chasing merfolk?” The captain's voice was tense. “I told you not to. We can’t let her back in the water now. She’ll call her sisters and we’re as good as dead,” the captain pinched the bridge of his nose. 

“We drugged her, she can’t grow her tail back. We got it from the swamp witch,” a crewman said. Which you missed because as the captain addressed his crew you as quietly as possible pulled yourself across the deck to the edge and threw yourself off. The captain's head whipped to the side as he looked toward where he heard the splash. He immediately dove over the side of the ship and into the water. You were sinking and flailing, unable to use your human legs effectively for anything. The captain wrapped his arms around your middle and hauled you to the surface of the water, you trashed against his arms and screamed, water filled your throat as your gills didn’t grow back either. 

The crew pulled the captain back on board with you grasped in his arm, he threw you to the ground and you weren’t breathing. 

“Fuck,” the captain dropped to his knees and started to force to the water from your lungs, you coughed violently a moment later sending sea water flying all over him. You gasped for air and felt panic set in as you looked into his bright blue eyes, why didn’t your fin grow back, what was happening. Why couldn’t you call your sisters when you hit the water. Your siren song is gone completely. 

“Whoa. Whoa. You were drugged. The cure is a couple month journey, we’ll get it for you,” the crew erupted in protest. 

“What!? Why?” Some shouted. “I say we cut it throat and bleed the bitch,” one person yelled over the rest. Fear gripped your heart as you looked into the captain's eyes, frantically searching for something that would save you from that fate. 

“No,” it was a simple answer as the captain effortlessly hauled you up into his arms and marched toward his quarters, throwing the door open and slamming it shut. He dropped you in his bed and backed away and started to pace as you stared at him fearfully. You pushed back against the wall and pulled your legs to your chest and wrapped your arms around them. You felt tears leak out of your eyes and your throat was dry and scratchy. 

“I know you,” the captain finally said as he stopped and looked at you, you shrunk further under his intense gaze. “You were the one who saved me, the one I saw at the lagoon,” you nodded at him. “Why,” he asked sternly. 

You pointed at your throat and gasped. He raised an eyebrow at you, you sighed and rolled your eyes. You pointed at his hip flask and then at your throat again. 

“You’re thirsty?” He asked, you nodded vigorously. He moved quickly and you jumped, pushing father away from him. “Sorry,” he said as he extended his arm out with a small cup of water. You snatched it and drank it back quickly, feeling immediate relief. 

“Debt repaid,” you croaked out. His eyebrow raised quizzically again. You sighed heavily, “you saved me,” another long drink of water, “I saved you. Life for life.” Your voice was evening out and crackling less. Your English was still choppy and words sounded difficult for you to say. 

“You felt you owed me a blood debt?” He asked, you rolled your eyes, humans. You nodded again. 

“The sea does not take kindly to owed debts. She believes in balance,” the words came out rushed and choppy. 

“So if you killed me 8 years ago, you, what, would be punished for not repaying the debt?” He asked, confused. 

“Yes, the ocean, she would punish my sisters and I,” your breath hitched suddenly at the mention of your sisters. They would eventually come looking for you once they realised they couldn’t hear your song. “I need to get back to them, they’ll kill you and your crew,” you said frantically. 

“Whoa,” he held his hands up at you, “easy there girl, I can’t just let you go back to them. Who’s to say you won’t lead them right to us?” He said, your chest tightened and your heart was pounding, you stared at him fearfully. 

“You’re holding me hostage?” Your voice cracked as tears threatened to pour out of your eyes now. 

“They’ll want me to gut you before I let you leave,” he said, and rubbed his beard clad chin. “Hell they'll only agree to bring you to the swamp witch so you can get your scales back so they can take them.” He said it so casually, your eyes widened at him. 

“I’ll bring you to the cure, but you’ll own me, you’ll be in my debt again,” you gulped. “And I can think of a few ways you can repay it,” you made a disgusted expression and gawked at him, a sour note leaving your throat. He looked at you and his eyes widened suddenly, “god no, not that,” he said quickly. You breathed a sigh of relief. 

“So what will you do with me? Throw me in the cell in the brig. Let your crew have their way with me,” you spat at him venomously. His eyes darkened suddenly, something sinister hiding in those ocean blues. He glared at you and you shrunk under his gaze. 

“No one will lay a hand on you,” he all but growled at you. There was possessiveness to his words, his gaze hard and there was a storm brewing in his eyes. “You will stay here. With me.” He said with a sense of finality, you looked at him disgusted again. 

“I’m not going to be your personal whore,” you snapped. His face snapped to face yours instantly and he was standing very close to you, his face right in yours and he glared into your eyes, you could smell the remnants of rum on his breath, your breath hitched. 

“You will be what I want you to be. If you want protection from them out there,” his tone was hard, stern. It scared you beyond belief. His hand reached out and he cupped your chin in his large calloused fingers making you look into his eyes. “Do I make myself clear?” You gulped and nodded, he immediately dropped his hand from your chin and walked away like he was disgusted by being that close to you. You watched him take a few deep breaths and shake his shoulders out. 

“I will not harm you or expect anything of you that you are not comfortable with. The debt you owe me can be repaid once you get your fins back,” he said evenly before leaving the cabin, leaving you completely alone. 

You took some deep shuddering breaths before you tried to move from the bed. The moment you stood you wobbled and fell back into the bed. You groaned loudly and fisted the sheets in frustration. The ship was still docked, if you could get these god forsaken legs to work with you, you could possibly escape back onto port before the ship got too far away. But based on the fact you couldn’t even stand upright without falling that would not be happening. And not to mention you were naked from the chest down, and the only thing covering your breasts was your handmade bra. You loved it, it was adorned in gems, and shells. You used things you found from wrecks to make it, the jewellery you wore was also from the many shipwrecks on the ocean floor. 

Resigned to your fate you tucked yourself into the corner of the bunk and covered your legs with the blanket. It was scratchy and rough against the skin of your barre legs. This is a feeling you didn’t think you would get used to any time soon. You tried to get your body and brain to work in sync by practising wiggling your toes and rolling your ankles around. Then bending your knees and twisting your leg at the hip. You would have to figure these legs out sooner rather than later or it would be a boring 2 months before you made it ‘swamp witch’ as they called the mother.  

It was while before you heard movement outside the cabin door, it slammed open, “Bucky, man you’re crazy. The crew, they'll never agree to keeping her here,” the blonde from earlier shouted at his captain. You scrambled back into the corner of the bed and tucked yourself into a small ball as his gaze snapped over to you. 

“It’s her isn’t it? The one who gave you scale 12 years ago. I recognized it the second I saw her tail,” he spat at his captain. 

Bucky threw his hand over the blonde mouth and glared into his eyes, “shush you fool,” Bucky snapped. “Yes it’s her,” he whispered, releasing the blonde's face.

“We’re so fucked,” the blonde threw his hands up in the air. He immediately whipped around and stalked up toward you, you pressed back further as he pointed his finger directly at you. “I don’t know how you bewitched him, or what your plan is,” he grabs your wrist and slit it with a knife, you yelped and stared back at him in fear as he slid the blade across his palm. Before he could connect the cuts together the captain grabbed the blonde's wrist. 

“Fool,” Bucky spat at his first mate. “That’s a siren. You can’t make a blood bond with her. Their song runs in their blood. You foolish idiot.” He threw his friend away from you. You cursed yourself for a moment, earlier when you fell into the sea, you should have sliced your palm and let the blood trickle into the water. Your sisters would have heard it. The song of the blood was different, more desperate than your usual song and would have called your sisters to your side immediately. But that only worked in water. He grabbed the blade and slid the blade across his palm and grabbed your cut wrist. 

Your blood mingled and you felt it singing, it was powerful, primal almost. As the blood mingled and combined you felt pinpricks through your body, his eyes were glowing a little as your siren blood mixed with his human blood. You were shocked a mere mortal would foolishly bond himself in blood to a siren. “If you harm anyone on or off this ship or this ship itself. You will parish,” he ground out as he felt your blood seep into his veins. You glared at him and growled, you put your other hand on his and kept them connected. 

“If you or any of your crew harms me, they will parish,” you spat at him, eyes ablaze. He ripped his hand from your wrist and glared down at you. 

“You witch,” the blonde spat. 

“Enough Steve,” Bucky said, breathing heavily. “You got what you wanted. A protection pact. Bound in blood,” he finished. The wounds healing quickly, the magic of the sea seeping into the ships boards. 

“You let her damn us. Now we can’t kill her afterwards,” Steve spat, he glared at you. You glared back. 

“Blood pacts can be broken. The swamp witch can do it,” your lip twitches. 

“To break a blood pact will cost you gravely,” your voice was an eerie tone, darker than before, more far away. His head whipped toward you and you smirked at him, “are you sure you’ll want to pay the price.” The price of breaking a blood pact usually favoured neither party. The sea would always get the last laugh in these circumstances. 

“The worst it could be is death,” the captain spat toward you. “And fortune favours the bold.” 

“There are fates worse than death, captain,” you snarled back. He whipped around and placed the tip of his sword under your chin and made you look into his eyes. 

“Of which you’ll learn,” he retorted. 

“You can’t harm me. Any harm and the punishment is grave,” you challenged, not cowering from him. He growled and a shiver went down your spine. 

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[tarithenurse]

Pirate's Bounty II

Fandom: MCU AU

Pairing/starring: 1st mate!Bucky x Pirate princess!reader

Word count: 1128

Content: Smut

A/N: Woopsie! Wrote a part 2. Hope you’re okay with that.

Pirate’s Bounty II

Sharing a room at the inn, the Pirate’s Cove, was Bucky’s idea of safety. Falling asleep fully dressed after the ball was not planned but she has slept wonderfully albeit rather brief.

Waking up, [Y/N]’s vaguely aware of the soft light coming through the curtains from the courtyard beyond. What’s more pressing, however, is the weight over her waist that holds her warm and snug against a hard shape behind her. Glancing around, she’s soon verified that it’s Bucky who has scooped her into his arm and drifted off on the comfortable bed before she woke.

Lying as still as she can, the captain considers disentangling herself but...it actually feels lovely. Safe. So instead she remains where she is, fingertips slowly caressing his knuckles until the light of dawn starts to fill the room and he wakes from his rest too.

Yawning. Stretching against her form. She can feel his muscles flex and his hip push against her behind, causing her to remember that night on the deck.

“Good morning,” the young woman whispers.

“Morning.” He pulls her closer, then freezes at the realization. But: “Shit, I fell asleep!”

She twists to look at him. “That’s what you take from this?”

He doesn’t bother to look sheepish even as he maintains his grip. “Figured I’d feel if you tried to sneak away.”

There’s a certain logic to it, of course, as offensive as it may be to be called out on something she very well might have done just months ago. But now no longer.

“I know I can’t do that,” she admits, turning her head away.

“You’ll get your freedom back some day,” he offers surprisingly kind.

She sighs. “And until then you’ll watch my back.”

“Please!” he grins mischievously, “I’ll watch all of you.”

“Bucky!” But she can’t help laughing softly.

He bends down, finding her mouth with his lips even as he mumbles a “pardon me, m’lady” against her.

She’s soft and pliable, greedily taking what he offers even as his large hand begins to roam, slipping under the soft top to explore the swell of her breasts before sliding along her hip and slowly but surely hoisting up the skirt.

“Get rid of this,” he growls, giving up on the many thin layers that keep sliding back.

[Y/N] gets to her feet, suddenly insecure but also driven by a need she’s only felt a few times now. Slipping the skirt down, she steps out of it as it pools on the floor, leaving her in naught but the top and her undies and that top is the next to go, slowly lifted over her head to bare her form to a hungry looking 1st mate. She’s about to get back into the bed when he shakes his head.

“All of it,” he demands.

Stepping back, she slides the little bit of modesty she has left down her legs, revealing all of her.

“And now?” she asks, voice whispier than she wants.

Getting over to her, Bucky allows his hands to brush down her arms before skimming up her sides to cup her breasts once more.

“Those bastards have no idea what they’re missing out on,” he growls, referring to her suitors

“Please don’t make me think of them now,” [Y/N] pleads.

He grins cockily. “Oh, I’ll take your mind off things.”

Next thing she knows, she’s been more or less tossed onto the bed, automatically spreading her legs to cradle Bucky between them even as he holds himself off of her.

This time the kiss is hungry. Searing. All teeth and tongue, little bites that wander down her jaw and onto her neck while her fingers tangle in his hair. She gasps when he takes a nipple in his mouth, suckling gently but hard enough to sting just a little and she knows she’s done for as the pressure within her increases, begging for more. Like a knot wanting to be cut.

But for one as brusque and direct, Bucky takes his time teasing and winding her up until she’s a whining mess, begging for more although his mouth and hands have been everywhere.

“More?” he double checks, looking up from where he’s kneeling between her legs, lips glistening from her juices. “Are you certain?”

She whimpers. “Yes. More. There must be more.”

About ready to cry when he steps out of the bed, the young woman is quickly silenced as she sees him untie his trousers revealing something she’s only seen once in real life and that in a different state. Now his cock stands erect, proud. Bobbing slightly at the newfound freedom but mostly scaring her with the sheer size.

“Come here,” he steps closer, reaching for her hand.

With him, she touches his erection for the first time, feeling how silken the skin is despite the hardness of the member. She explores, learning how it pulses when she touches beneath the head that’s a dark purple and slowly it becomes less scary.

Making her scoot over, Bucky lies down and guides his lover on top of him, slowly showing her how to pump the cock between her hands until she finds a rhythm that makes his eyes fall shut and the large man groan in pleasure.

“Fuck yeah...”

But he doesn’t allow her to continue, instead repositioning her with the tip of the cock nestled in between her legs right at the entrance to her cunt.

“Take it slow,” he guides her, “a bit at a time.”

Her heart is hammering in her chest as she slowly sinks onto him, spearing herself on the blunt tip. The stretch burns but it’s delicious too and each inch earns her growled praises from Bucky. Rocking back and forth, she eventually can’t take any more, she feels, and when she looks down, she finds that she’s fully seated on his cock. So full.

“Yeah?” he asks her.

“Fuck,” she sighs, gently gyrating the hips to really feel him in her heat.

Large hands find her hips, help her find a rhythm again. Slow and steady up and down until her thighs are burning and her body tenses and she can’t breathe or see but only arch her back in ecstasy.

“So fucking beautiful,” she vaguely hears him growl.

Then her world spins and she finds her beneath him, legs wrapped around his hips that move with a new purpose, bringing her high once more at the same time as he stutters in the movements and growls into her neck something guttural. Something primal.

Bucky manages not to collapse onto the considerably smaller female, instead rolling them so she rests on top. There, they just lie, catching their breaths.

“That was...” [Y/N] tries to articulate, “that was...amazing.”

“Fuck yeah it was,” the 1st mate agrees.

[onceuponastory]

blackheart - pirate!bucky barnes

Plot: After waking up onboard a pirate ship, Y/N soon becomes acquainted with its crew...and its famously bloodthirsty Captain. Pairing: PirateCaptain!Bucky Barnes x Lady!Reader (if you squint) Warnings: Kidnapping, creepy men being creepy, violence and mentions of death. Minors please be aware. Also, Pirate Captain Bucky, because he’s a warning. As always, if I miss any triggers please let me know! Notes: This was written for @the-slumberparty​’s one word drabble challenge. My word was Blackheart. Google says it means the darkening of plant stems/leaves, but I immediately thought “That’s a cool pirate name.” and ran with it. I did try to make this a drabble, I promise. The idea just got away from me.

Not beta’d, so any mistakes are my own.

Leaning back, Y/N softly groans. The side of her head throbs with a dull pain, and she can register a gentle swaying motion lulling her further towards the sleep she just came out of. It’s only as the smell of salt water hits her nostrils, and when she hears a voice she doesn’t recognise saying: “I think she’s waking up.” that she opens her eyes, wincing slightly at the sudden light.

Immediately, she sees a crowd made up of strangers staring down at her. Gasping, she tries to scramble to her feet, but the pain in her head suddenly amplifies, causing her to feel lightheaded. As she collapses to the floor, cruel laughter sounds around her. Despite the fear coursing through her veins, their laughter angers her.

“Who are you? Where am I?” she demands. A man in front of her smirks, making her stomach churn. 

“See for yourself, miss.” He gestures to his side, and as Y/N follows his gaze, her eyes widen. The vast ocean surrounds them, gigantic waves hitting against the side of the boat. Y/N stares out towards the horizon, wondering just how far away from home she is. As she does, she begins to remember what happened before she woke up here. She was walking through town, taking a welcome respite from her life and responsibilities. Unfortunately for her, she lost her way and found herself down a dark alley. The last thing she remembers is two men approaching her. No doubt they’re the ones who brought her here. 

Y/N knows exactly why they chose her. As the only daughter of a noble family, she’s worth a lot, and is a very powerful bargaining tool…dead or alive. Her eyes glance towards the mast, waiting to confirm the suspicion already growing in her gut: that this is a pirate ship. As soon as she registers the pitch black flag atop the mast, Y/N’s breath hitches in her throat. This is no ordinary ship. It’s Blackheart’s ship. He’s known as one of the most bloodthirsty pirates to have ever existed, named after his notoriety for showing no mercy to his prisoners despite their begging. And that undoubtedly means her. Back home, from the safety of her bed, Y/N used to read up on him and all the violence he’s capable of. And now, here she is, her life in jeopardy. Warily, she looks around at the ship’s crew. All of them leer at her, some of them smirking. Her blood chills.

“Return me home at once.” she orders. Again, more laughing. Despite her attempts to seem brave, their laughter strikes fear through her. She glances back out towards the ocean. Maybe if she jumped in, she could swim towards safety? Surely there must be something around here, perhaps a desert island? 

Yet all she can see is the waves, and her heart sinks. No doubt she’d die before ever reaching land…either at the hands of the waves, or by the pirates surrounding her.

“Don’t be scared, miss. We don’t bite.” One of the men laughs, suddenly jumping towards her. Frightened, Y/N jumps back, her false bravado shattered. The laughter intensifies, and she hurriedly scans the crowd, looking for a place to escape. But the men have her surrounded. Slowly, they approach her, and she backs away, holding up her hands defensively. The one closest to her holds out his hand, ready to grab her….

But just before he touches her, the door at the back of the ship, the one leading to the Captain’s quarters, opens. Immediately, Y/N’s heart rate picks up. The crowd in front of her parts, and a voice sounds over them. 

“Gentlemen, please. We must make sure our special guest is welcome.” She lowers her head to avert his gaze, but with each of his footsteps, her heart beats faster and faster, so fast it could break through her rib cage. As their first meeting approaches, Y/N tries to imagine what he’ll be like. Considering his notoriety, she’s imagining a monster, someone scarred by violence and who thrives on fear. No doubt he can smell hers immediately. “Now, now, Lady Y/N. Don’t you know it’s well mannered to look people in the eyes when you first meet them?” He smirks, tutting slightly. 

Cold metal is placed under her chin, no doubt a blade, and the man lifts her head up so she’s making eye contact with him. A pair of icy blue eyes stare back at her, and Y/N gasps. His long brunette hair is tied back in a bun, with some loose tendrils falling down around his face. His jacket and white shirt are mostly open, and she notices chest hair peeking out. Gold chains and rings cover his skin, and she even registers some tattoos on his hands. 

Once again, her breath hitches. This man is attractive, far more than she expected. If he hadn’t kidnapped her, she’d probably kiss him. His eyes trace over her shuddering form, running all the way up her jawline and cheekbones, and he grins. “Oh, don’t be scared, my dear. We don’t want to hurt you. You’re just a pawn in our plan. My men are under strict instructions to keep you safe, and I’ll ensure they follow them.” Yet, with the way he looks at her, Y/N doesn’t know if she believes him. 

“Whatever your plan is, I’ll have no part in it. Return me home at once.” She puts on a brave face, yet she already knows her demands are futile. After all, there’s a reason why he has such a fierce reputation. The man chuckles.

“Sorry darling, I can’t do that. But allow me to introduce myself. I’m Captain Blackheart. Welcome aboard.”

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Please follow @onceuponastory-library​ and turn on notifications to be notified when I next post!

[sebastianstansqueen]

Run

A/N: Um came up with this today, tell me what you think, i hope you all like it, feedback is always appreciated, if you want to be Tagged, either send an ask or comment on this or click on Taglist open.  

Wordcount:  1,469

Warnings: Slight angst, I think thats it.

Masterlist //  Tagglists

Taglist: @cherryblossomsky - @babylooneytoonz - @wonderlandfandomkingdom - @miraclesoflove - @amelia-song-pond - @leyannrae - @avengerlex - @pineprincess - @nik2writes - @dorothea-hwldr - @rosie-posie08 - @scxrletrecsmarvel

The dark night sky with the moon and all the stars shining down at you, as dirt and leaves gather beneath your feet, you run for the docs to make your escape from your life. When there you walked to the end of the large pier and boarded a large ship.

  Ten Years Later

You stood looking out at your sea, now known as the captain of all seven seas, and a few other names, no one entered any water without your permission, not even royal ships. But today was a rare occasion where you see a ship with royal colors and a crest on the side that you didn’t remember signing a permission letter for. “Head for it.” You told one of your men. When this would happen you’d ransack the ship, take everything, kill someone as a warning and send the most important person back, as a way to warn them but not declare war. 

They tried to fight but it didn’t work out, your men brough two men on the ship where they had them  kneel in front of you. “Don’t you know that these are my waters?” You asked, liking a flair for the dramatic. 

They took the bags from over their heads, they were both equally handsome. “Don’t we have the right to sail the sea of our land?” The one with light hair and blueish green eyes asked. 

“Your land, the sea is my land, you don’t touch my borders, I don’t touch you.” You explained, it was knowledge to almost everyone. 

“Please don’t hurt us, I’m prince James Barnes, we mean no harm, and we didn’t know.” The other man told you. 

“James, who is your friend here, to that of your family?” You questioned. 

Both men stiffened. “He's a royal advisor.” James answered you. 

“Don’t worry James, your friend will be my warning, I don’t want to start a war, I just want to send a warning.” You pulled out your sword and held it under the blond’s chin. 

“Take me instead.” James interjects.

You looked at him. “I’m afraid I can’t do that, your highness.” 

“Take me as a prisoner.” Was his response. 

You thought for a moment, contemplating the idea, you looked to one of the crew members for their thoughts on it, she shrugged at you. “I want to go see the king and queen myself.” You stated. “Sail for the docs.” You demand. 

“What are you going to do to us?” The blond inquired. 

You looked at the men. “We're going to see your king and queen about this deal.” You left them there heading to your quarters on the ship, getting in something less for plundering and pillaging. 

Your first mate, Natasha came to talk as you got dressed. “What if they recognise you?” She hissed. 

“They won't, I'm sure of it, I've never heard of the Barnes family, even then, so they shouldn’t know me.” You sighed as you tried tightening your outer corset. Over your shirt and skirt, you sheathe your sword and step out.

“What if they do and take you back?” She asked you. 

  “Then you know where to find me, and take me back as captain.” You replied making sure your hat was on correctly. “You're gonna die of worry if you don’t stop now, it’s never happened and it won’t happen. Now, let's go meet this King and Queen.” With the advisor and prince in hand you with some of your crew made your way to the castle. 

You got in the walls easily because of the man, and then were led to the throne room. “What is going on here?” The king’s voice boomed over the room. 

“Your son trespassed on my waters, with his advisor, I don’t seek war, but I seek some form of repayment.” You replied not bowing or anything. 

“I didn’t believe you're the pirate queen?” The king's brows furrowed. “I thought you were a myth.” 

“I prefer captain of the seven seas, but that's one of them, and, no I'm very real.” You smirked. “However your son doesn't seem to want me to hurt the dear secretary, he offered me himself but killing or just taking him would start that war I told you about.” 

“We won’t let you hurt him nor our secretary.” The Queen said. 

“I need something, in return, so that this doesn't happen again.” You hiss out. 

The king rolled his eyes. “We don’t listen to pirates, you are going to be lucky to keep your head in contact.” 

You pulled out the sword. “I may not want war but I will start it.” You held it at the prince’s throat. “So, give me gold or I'll kill your boy.” 

The king sighed. “Fine, how much do you want?” 

“Fifty thousand gold pieces.” You demand.

The king grumbled and nodded for someone to grab it, once it was all counted for in front of you, a victorious smile broke out on your lips. “If I find out you go onto my sea again without my signed permission, I’ll kill all of you.” You warned. 

“And how will you know?” The king asked. 

You smirked. “I have my ways, I am the captain of the seven seas after all.” 

After that, Bucky had become enamored by you, and that grew the concern of Steve. “You won’t see her again.” 

“I will, if I go back to sea.” Bucky smirked. 

“She’ll kill you and me and your family.” The blond warned. 

Bucky looked at him. “She won’t.” 

During those same weeks Natasha noticed you were off as well, always seeming to day dream. “What the hell are you doing?” She asked as you were off somewhere in your mind. 

“Nothing, why?” You asked. 

She glared at you. “No, you’re off somewhere else when you need to be here.” 

“I am here.” You rolled your eyes. 

She shook her head. “You're thinking of the stupid prince.” 

You rolled your eyes. “I’ve got no time for prince’s.” You huff as you ready the ship for the south. 

Word spread soon to you that Prince James had been setting sail everyday, and you weren’t about to let that be, so you made your way back. Surely enough you saw the ship, and him, so you got him back in your grasp. “Do you think I am a lire?” You hissed. 

“I think you're an honest woman, you came back after all.” He shrugged. 

Your brows furrowed. “So you're an idiot, I thought Princes were literate.” 

“I am literate, but I also know that if I got you to come back I would see you again.” He admitted. 

“So you would have your family and yourself killed to see me again?” You asked. 

“I want to go with you, I want to see the world.” He explained. 

You shook your head. “Then see it, I’ll give my permission.” 

“Not on a royal boat, with men who have to go with me, I want to see you on your boat.” 

You scoffed and shook your head again. “Nope, I’m not taking you with me, I’d get killed and then you, goe back home, this is your last chance.” 

You left again, and the man reminded you in your mind you kept watch over the sea around the kingdom incase of the stupid prince decided to go back at sea, one night you left the boat, and went to land. Where James waited, the two of you had been sending letters. “Who are you really captain of the seven seas?” He asked you that night. 

“I can’t tell you that James.” You spoke softly.

He looked down at you as you both laid in the sad looking up at the moon and stars similar to the one all those years ago when you ran. “Why not, you know I don’t want to harm you.” 

“It's more than you hurting me, if I tell you,  if I tell you I don’t know if you’ll tell your parents.” You sighed. 

“They don’t know we’re even here. You could take me tonight and they wouldn’t know who did it.” He cupped your cheek. 

“I’d be the first they’d look into.” You smirked.

He shook his head. “I won’t tell them who you are.” 

You gave in. “I’m Y/n Y/l/n, my official title is princess of Asland, I-”

“Ran away ten years ago.” He finished. “I’ve heard all about you, why did you run?” 

“I didn’t want to be like my mother and her mother and so on, unhappy, not free, I’ve never returned and never will.” You shook your head. 

“What if someone goes to sea there?” He asked. 

“I don’t bother, I have someone else take care of it.” You replied. “I have a plan for everything.” 

[crushedbyhyperbole]

This is such a good story. I'm only on part 2 and have queued my reblogs but I wanted to share the master list for this now because I'm enjoying it so much already. Absolutely love your pirate Bucky 😍

Sky Full of Song - Series Masterlist

summary: Despite the bitter resentment of the crew, you found a home on Captain Barnes’ ship; on the ocean where you belonged, at the side of a captain you swore loyalty and heart to. But when course is plotted for a legendary island, the secret that has kept you alive for years is threatened to be revealed. pairing: pirate!bucky x pirate/siren!reader series word count: ~65k series warnings: taunts of sexual harassment, canon level violence, drowning, history of torture, smut (marked by chapter with a *), established mutual pining idiots, a romantic AF Captain Barnes

Keep reading

[flowersforbucky]

devil's in the backseat

bucky barnes x reader

word count: 3.7k

summary/prompt: a night at coney island with your friends turns out much differently than expected.

or getting fucked in front of a mirror

author's note: this is my first halloween fic!! this was so much fun to write. if you've read haunting adeline, then you know exactly what inspired the mirror maze scene! also disclaimer i have never been to coney island so if any of this is inaccurate then just pretend ok it's fiction :))

warnings/tags: smut, 18+ only content, sex in a public setting, mirror sex, oral (female receiving), unprotected p in v, friends to lovers, romanogers makes an appearance! kind of grumpy!reader, protective bucky, random men being creepy, language, reader is afab, she/her pronouns, reader pov, no use of y/n, porn with a little plot, fluff

my masterlist

“I can't fucking believe I let you talk me into wearing this.”

You tug the tight, cherry red colored velvet fabric of the babydoll dress in place for the dozenth time since arriving at Coney Island.

“What? You look hot. Plus, our costumes go great together.”

Natasha's costume mirrors your own - except hers is a pearlescent white and instead of a pitchfork and horns, she dons angel wings and a halo.

“I don't feel hot. I feel cold. It's fifty degrees and the sun hasn't even set yet.” If it wasn't for the black thigh high boots that cover the majority of your legs, you'd be shivering in the chilly late October weather.

“It's not my fault that you put off getting a costume until the last minute and had to pick through what little was left at Spirit Halloween,” she mumbles, passing you one of the cups of apple cider that the cashier hands to her. You gladly accept, sucking down the hot liquid in hopes that it will warm you from the inside.

Her phone dings as the two of you walk towards the rides. “It's Steve,” she informs you as she reads the text message. “They just got here,” she looks back up at you with a smirk on her face and a mischievous gleam in her eye. “Bucky decided to come with them.”

You roll your eyes, suddenly hating your borderline provocative costume even more.

“I thought he was leaving for a job in Denver this evening?”

It's not that you didn't want to see Bucky. It's that you didn't want to see Bucky dressed like this. As if you don't already get flustered around him when you're dressed in normal, everyday clothing. The hem of your dress barely conceals the curve of your ass and your tits are practically spilling over the low neckline.

“Guess it's been postponed,” she shrugs, nudging you with her shoulder.

The two of you turn to look in the opposite direction when a familiar voice calls your names. You see Steve, Sam, and Bucky walking towards you. Steve is dressed as a pirate, eyepatch and all. Sam wears a cowboy costume with an oversized hat, concealing the upper half of his face entirely.

And Bucky? Bucky wears jeans and a navy blue Henley.

Yeah, you're regretting any of your life choices that lead up to this moment.

“Well, well, well,” Sam drawls as he tips his hat back enough to take in yours and Natasha’s outfits. “Look what we have here. An angel and a devil. Have you two already entered the costume contest for best duo or should I go add your names?”

“You wouldn't dare,” you scold him. Natasha just laughs, falling into Steve’s embrace as he plants a kiss to her forehead.

“We should, you know,” Natasha agrees. “I think we'd have a pretty good shot at winning.”

“Yeah, right,” you retort, looking around at some of the more elaborate, creative costumes that many of the strangers around you are sporting. You notice a man and woman dressed as Beetlejuice and Lydia Deetz and know that you and Nat wouldn't stand a chance in a costume contest. “And what about you?” You acknowledge Bucky, your eyes skimming up and down his civilian clothes. “Didn't have time to pull together a costume?”

He smirks, his eyes trailing up your figure for a heated moment before he responds. “I'll have you know that I am in costume, actually.”

Steve and Sam both snort in laughter.

“Oh yeah? And what are you supposed to be, exactly?”

He tugs up the sleeve of his shirt, showing off the shiny vibranium that is his left arm.

“I'm the Winter Soldier,” he says with a smug grin. “Obviously.”

“How creative,” you praise sarcastically.

“Cut me some slack,” he feigns insult. “I was supposed to be halfway to Colorado right now. I didn't have time to pull together anything too cute.” His eyes flicker to your dress and boots at the word cute. If anyone else notices, they say nothing.

“What are we doing just standing around here?” Natasha exclaims, tugging Steve in the direction of the rides and games. “I want to ride every ride and eat funnel cake.”

They race ahead of the rest of you, with Sam close behind, leaving you and Bucky to fall into step beside each other.

“So, why did your mission get postponed?” You ask casually, trying to fight down the nerves that threaten to bubble over every time you're alone with him.

“Beats me,” he shrugs. “Fury didn't give much of an explanation. I got the text as I was loading my bags into the car to head out.”

“That's annoying,” you mumble, swallowing the remnants of your hot apple cider. “I'm sorry,” you tell him with a glance in his direction. “I'm sure it was for a good reason.”

He shrugs. “I'm here, so I can't be too mad about it.”

Before you can overthink exactly what he means by that, you're both brought to a halt when a jolly looking man in a Ghostbusters costume steps directly in front of you, blocking your path.

“This little devil looks like she needs a giant sloth!” He exclaims, gesturing towards the prizes hanging above the balloon darts station next to you.

“Oh, no,” you start. “That’s okay–”

“Come on!” The red-faced vendor insists, looking at Bucky. “Don't you want to win your girl a giant sloth? Perhaps a giant giraffe? If she was mine, I'd be winning her any prize she wants. I'll give you five throws for ten doll–”

“Fine, fine,” Bucky relents, digging into his back pocket for his wallet. You notice a faint hint of pink blooms along the apples of his cheeks, but he doesn't correct the man when he calls you his girl. “You've worn me down,” he sighs as he shoves a crumpled ten dollar bill into the man's hand.

The man accepts the money with a satisfied, toothy grin and hands Bucky five darts.

“If you get three out of the five throws, you can choose a prize from here,” the man gestures towards a section of smaller prizes. “And if you get all five throws, you can choose–”

The man is cut off by the sharp popping sound of a balloon, and then a second, and a third, until all five darts have been impaled on the board in a consecutive line in a matter of seconds.

“She'll take the bunny,” Bucky tells him before he can erase the stunned look off of his face. He points to a large, flop-eared purple bunny hanging from the upper row of prizes.

Unlike the vendor, you aren't shocked by his perfect aim at all. Anyone who knows Bucky would have known that he wouldn't miss a single shot. You are shocked, however, that he chose the bunny without even asking which prize you want.

The man in the Ghostbusters costume grabs the bunny and hands it to you, surprise still etched on his face. He mumbles a quick goodnight before he's moving onto the next people approaching the stand.

“How did you know I'd want the bunny?” You ask Bucky, trying to juggle the stuffed animal, your empty cup of cider, and your pitchfork all in your arms.

“You like bunnies, right? It was an educated guess.” He shrugs, moving through a thick crowd of people away from the game stations. “Here, let me carry it for you,” he offers when he notices the large stuffed animal is obstructing your vision. You hand it over to him and he tucks it underneath his metal arm.

“Thank you,” you tell him, your cheeks heating at the realization that he'd remembered such an inconsequential piece of information about you. You do like bunnies. The cold night air suddenly feels a lot more balmy.

“I'm - uh - I'm going to find a trash can real quick,” you say as you wiggle the empty cup in your hand. Truthfully, you just need a moment to collect yourself.

You begin walking in the opposite direction before he can reply, your eyes scanning the throng of people for a garbage can.

So what if he knows that you like bunnies? It's a pretty trivial fact that probably means nothing. You know that Natasha’s favorite animal is flamingos - because she's your friend. It's normal for friends to know things that their friends like.

Right? Right.

“I like that outfit a whole lot, baby. But I think you'd look even cuter in just the boots and those horns.”

You're so lost in your internal monologue that you don't even notice two men closing in on you as you toss the empty cup into a trash can. Unlike most of the people here tonight, neither of them are in costumes. They stand so close to you that you can smell booze on their breath.

“Oh, fuck off,” you groan as you attempt to walk away, but they've effectively blocked you between their bodies and the large garbage can behind you. Wicked grins grow on their faces as you realize that you can't get by them.

“Look, I don’t have the patience for this tonight. Get out of my fucking way.”

“Or what?” One of them taunts. “You'll use that little pitchfork on us? Jokes on you, because we're into that.”

“What if I used it on you?” A familiar voice comes from behind them. “Would you still like that?”

Before they can even turn around to identify the voice, Bucky is pulling him back by the hood of his sweatshirt and throwing him on the ground with little to no effort. The other one attempts to stumble away as Bucky turns his attention to him.

He still has your bunny clutched in his flesh hand - despite the seriousness of the situation, you have to bite your lip to keep from smirking at the sight. You don't know of anyone who could be quite as intimidating while holding a stuffed purple bunny.

“What about you?” Bucky asks, towering over the guy by half a foot. “You got anything you wanna say?”

“I - no - we didn't know she was with someone,” he half slurs, half stutters out. His gaze flickers to Bucky's vibranium hand. The man on the ground manages to stand back up, following after his friend.

“Now you know,” Bucky calls after them as they quickly hobble away.

“I had that handled, you know,” you tell Bucky with a nod towards your pitchfork. “But thank you, anyway. Really.”

He places a gentle but firm grasp on the top of your arms and begins to tug you in the opposite direction, guiding you through the small crowd that had stopped to witness the altercation.

“I have no doubt about that,” he sighs, releasing his grip on you when the two of you are a reasonable distance away. “But I also don't doubt that you handling it would have drawn even more attention.”

He's right. If he hadn't stepped in, your method of handling it would have been even more dramatic.

“They would have deserved it,” you mumble. “I knew I shouldn't have worn this stupid costume.”

“They definitely would have deserved it,” he agrees. “And your costume isn't stupid. You should be able to wear any costume you like without getting harassed by drunk assholes.”

The two of you approach the ferris wheel as it comes to a slow stop, a couple getting out of one of the cars. You and Bucky flash your wristbands to the operator, who offers to hold your pitchfork for you while you’re on the ride.

“Besides,” he continues as you sit down next to each other in the car, the operator locking the gate in place. “I happen to like your costume. A lot.” He turns his head to you, his gaze trailing from the tops of your thigh high boots and up to the felt horns that adorn your head.

There's a shift in energy as the ferris wheel suddenly comes to life, sending you sliding across the limited space of the metal bench seat and right up against him.

“Oh, yeah?” You tease with your face a few inches from his. Close enough to see your reflection in his irises. “Is that why two different people have implied that I'm yours tonight and you haven't corrected either of them?”

“Your costume had nothing to do with that. I wouldn't have corrected them even if you were dressed as a giant banana,” he says, his tone and face both serious. “Does it bother you that I didn't correct them?”

“No,” you answer automatically - eagerly. You should feel embarrassed, but with the way he's looking at you, and how good it feels to be pressed so snug against him, you can't find it within yourself to care. “I didn't correct them either,” you point out.

The ferris wheel comes to a stop to let new people get on when your cart reaches the peak.

“And why is that?” he asks lowly. If you weren't sitting so close to him, you wouldn't have been able to hear him over the obnoxiously loud carnival music that pours from speakers in between the ferris wheel's carts.

He wraps his metal arm around your shoulders, pulling you further into him.

“Because I liked the sound of it,” you answer honestly. Your voice quivers - from nerves, or from a gust of wind that sways the pod still perching at the top of the wheel.

“Is that right?” he murmurs. He places his flesh hand on the exposed skin of your thigh - just above the top of your boot and just under the hem of your dress. His fingertips rest near the crack between your thighs. Instinctively, you spread your legs apart - not much, but enough for him to smirk at your body's automatic response to his touch.

“You like the sound of being my girl?”

“Yeah,” you breathe. “I do. Is that okay with you?”

He chuckles, his fingers inching further up your thigh. You spread your legs open further, giving him the go ahead to go as high as he wants. He stops when he reaches the apex of your thighs, just an inch away from the cloth of your panties. He applies pressure with his fingertips, his short nails digging into the sensitive flesh and making you clench your legs around his hand.

“That depends,” he contemplates. “Are you my girl?”

You open your mouth to answer when the sensation of his index finger grazing the fabric that covers your cunt makes you forget how to speak. You sit there with your mouth agape as he hooks a finger into the cotton panties.

He eases a finger through your folds, lubricating it in your slick before adding a second finger and massaging the pads of them over your sensitive clit.

“Feels like you're my girl.”

You become vaguely aware of the fact that the ride is now in motion once more, heading back down to the ground, when Bucky places the stuffed bunny on your lap in an effort to conceal what is happening in the cart that you and him share.

He alternates between slow, languid circles and quick strokes against your clit as the ferris wheel makes its way down and then back up again. You can feel yourself soaking your underwear as the world dizzies around you. You hide your face in Bucky's neck to conceal the pleasure written across your face.

You're seconds away from coming against his fingers, the pressure in your belly building to a climax, when he pulls away and tugs your dress into place. Your gaze snaps up to his, shooting daggers, as the ride comes to a slow stop. He looks back at you with an amused smirk as the operator approaches the cart to unlock the gate.

“Sorry about that, sweetheart,” he tells you in a strained voice as he snatches the bunny back from you. “After you,” he motions with his head as the operator holds the gate open for you.

Stunned and speechless at what just happened, you stumble out of the cart and down the stairs to the ride's exit with Bucky behind you - both of you completely forgetting about your pitchfork. You can't help but snort a laugh at the position of the large stuffed animal - directly over Bucky’s crotch.

“Real discreet,” you tell him, glancing down at the bunny and then back up to the semi-pained expression on his face.

“I have to admit, right now this thing is worth every penny that I spent on it,” he sighs, and then removes one hand from the bunny to place it on your lower back. “Follow me,” he instructs with a smirk.

He guides you through the crowd and you follow him without question, just trying to ignore the wet ache between your legs.

You shoot him a quizzical look when you arrive at the house of mirrors. You haven't been in a mirror maze since you'd gotten lost in one at ten years old.

There's an attendant sitting in a chair outside of the entrance who unenthusiastically greets the two of you. Bucky reaches into his pocket, digging out his wallet for the second time that evening. He pulls out a hundred dollar bill and flashes it at the elderly man smoking a Pall Mall.

“Take this and don't let anyone else in until we come out,” Bucky tells him before dragging you into the attraction. You and the gray haired man both go wide eyed.

“What was that?” you cackle as the door slams to a close behind you. Bucky doesn't answer, just grabs one of your hands in his and begins guiding you through the maze of mirrors as if he's been here a hundred times.

The entire place is lit by bright, neon red lights that only aid in further confusing your sense of direction. Bucky doesn’t seem phased in the slightest, finally coming to a stop after a few minutes of maneuvering through the endless mirrors.

“You never answered me, you know,” he says as he drops your bunny to the floor. “When I asked if you're my girl.” He smirks at you, stepping closer to you and backing you against the mirror behind you.

“You just paid that man a hundred dollars to get me alone,” you jab as you pull him to you by the front of his Henley. “I think it's safe to say that I am.”

He smiles as you pull him down to you, crushing your lips to his. His hands trail down your back until they land where your thighs meet the curve of your ass cheeks. You release months worth of tension into the kiss, sweeping your tongue along the swell of his bottom lip before slipping it into his mouth the second that he parts his lips for you. He groans into the kiss, kneading the globes of your ass with his fingers. You can feel a prominent bulge through his jeans against your stomach.

Adrenaline begins to kick in when he pulls away, looking down at you with lust blown pupils. He sinks to the floor below you, kneeling in front of your cunt as he raises your dress around your waist and tugs your panties down your legs and over your boots. He slips them into his back pocket before hiking one of your legs across his shoulder.

You can already feel your juices leaking down your inner thighs before his mouth makes contact with you. When he does, you lean your head back against the glass behind you in pleasure.

He sucks your clit between his kiss-swollen lips with an obscene pop before running his tongue down your folds. He plunges his tongue inside you and you grind yourself against his face, chasing the release that you were seconds away from on the ferris wheel.

He moans at the taste of you and the vibration has your walls clenching around his tongue. You ride out your orgasm on his face, the neon red lights blurring and spinning around you.

Despite the fact that your legs feel like jelly, you pull him up to you as soon as you're able to form a coherent thought. You clumsily paw at the button of his pants and his zipper, and he shoves both his jeans and boxers down over his ass, just far enough to free his cock.

He places both of his hands just under your armpits and lifts you as you instinctively lock your legs around his hips.

The head of his cock nudges your wet folds, your juices coating his length before he nudges it inside you.

You feel full before he's even halfway in you. Your walls constrict around him and he digs his teeth into his bottom lip as he adjusts to the sensation of you.

“Fuck, that's tight. You're perfect,” he grunts as he sheaths the rest of his length into you. You let out a sound somewhere between a whimper and a gasp.

He has total control as he cradles you between his body and the cold, hard mirror behind you. He sets a harsh pace, his head ramming against your cervix at the sweetest angle from his position beneath you.

He manages to support you with the strength of only his vibranium arm as he brings his flesh hand between your bodies, once again massaging your clit in rapid circles as he fucks up into you.

You cum around his length in a shockingly short amount of time, digging your teeth into the flesh of his neck as he follows after you, filling you up with hot ropes of his cum.

You stay in the same position after you've both reached your climax, panting against one another in the claustrophobic feeling space.

“We should probably go find our friends,” you say breathlessly with a kiss to the side of his face. “Sam's probably getting sick of being a third wheel.”

He pulls out of you, his cum running down your thighs and ass cheeks. He gently lowers you back down to the ground as he begins to tuck himself back into his pants.

He laughs, cupping your face in his hands as he pulls your lips to his once again.

“If he hates being a third wheel, just imagine how much he's going to hate being a fifth wheel.”

[sunlitsunflowers]

Holy shit!! This is so fucking good!!! Honestly I'd let pirate bucky do whatever he wanted to me!! I don't understand how you keep writing incredible fic after incredible fic!! It's amazing💛💛💛

𝐂𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐚𝐢𝐧'𝐬 𝐂𝐨𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐧𝐝 | 𝐉.𝐁.𝐁

Pairing ✗  Pirate!Bucky Barnes x F!Reader Word Count ✗ 1.7k Event ✗ @buckybarnesevents Hot Bucky Summer | Week 6 - "How do you want me?" Warnings ✗ Swearing, pet names, fluff, smut (unprotected piv, dom!Bucky, no prep, angry s-x, dirty talk, praise + degradation + sir kink) Author's Note ✗ So... I think it would be a bit foolish for me to say that I am innocent at this stage - but, I will say it anyway.

Sins of the Seven Seas Masterlist | Hot Bucky Summer Masterlist

It was a punishable act to not follow the Captain’s orders, just as much as it was to cross him when his fuse was already so short. Luckily for you, you had the one thing that would calm the brusque fury into a simmering wave. 

The tension on The Soldat’s deck was thicker than the fog in the early hours of a cold morning. 

All day, your Captain had been snappish in his orders – quick to berate and growl out a reprimand if a crew member dawdled too long or made a mistake. 

It was unnerving. 

Bucky had always remained composed – very little could rattle the seasoned sailor, but the first sighting of an encroaching armada seemed to have set his last nerve ablaze. A couple days’ worth of sailing had taken your ship out of their sights and back into corsair territory, and as a result, Bucky had given the command to port at the closest settlement – a pirate port, one infamous for shady men and even worse devils. 

“First mate,” Bucky snapped from the helm as night began to fall. You strode over from your station, brow raised in question, watching as the black leather coat Bucky wore flapped in the cold evening air. He flicked his head in a gesture for you to step closer, and you did so with no hesitation, right up to his side so his lips could brush against your ear. “Cabin, now. Get on my bed and wait for me. Ass up.”

The shock made you freeze for a split second, and Bucky’s lips curled into an arrogant smirk. “Move it, lass; follow your Captain’s orders, now.”

“Aye, sir,” you said, staring at him through doe eyes. 

If you put a little sway in your hips as you made your way down the stairs for his benefit, it was no one’s business. 

The Captain's cabin remained as warm and inviting as ever, with dark timbers and even deeper accents. A very recent haul had allowed some art to decorate the wooden walls, and they added a flair of colour to the otherwise brooding room. Your shared bed took up a fair amount of space on the far wall, and the sheets and covers tousled from the previous night’s coupling and fitful hours of sleep. 

“Such a slob,” you muttered, moving over to the mess and tidying it up. 

Once tidied, you fiddled with your buckles and belts, pulling off your cutlass and pistol to place them on the armoury table. The garments you donned were easy to remove, cotton and leather peeling away and allowing your flesh to breathe, yet you left your billowing shirt on, unsure how long Bucky would take to make his way and retire to his cabin. 

Waves made the ship pitch and roll as you waited, and the setting sun casted an orange glow through the glass windows. 

As darkness bloomed, you struck a few matches and lit a few candles that were dotted around the cabin – the light flickered and glowed, a beautiful dance of flame that you admired for just a moment.

Muffled voices could be heard through the door, and then heavy bootfalls above your head, trailing down the stairs and coming to a complete stop at the cabin door. The figure behind the glass was tall, broad, and angry. “Oh, fuck,” you muttered, and you scarpered to the mattress, quickly laying down on the soft cottons, and canting your ass up into the air – just as he had ordered.

“If any fool knocks on this damned door,” Bucky yelled at large, his voice muffled by the doors, but no less fierce. “I will give them a third eye.”

The very same door swung open with a crash, and you startled with a muffled squeak. Your head came to rest in the crook of your elbow, and as if on instinct, you held your breath – awaiting Bucky’s next move.

“Well, well, well,” Bucky said, the sound of his leather coat and thick armour hitting the floor louder than cannon fire in the nervous energy of the cabin. “Just how I wanted my Minx–presenting that sweet cunt for me, aren’t you a good girl…”

“What’s wrong, sir?” You asked, voice muffled by your arm, and Bucky hummed. “You have been tense all day–you want to be in control of me? That why I’m prone on your bed waiting for you to fuck me?”

“Oh, sweetheart,” Bucky breathed, and you peeked from your arm to behind you. His predatory grin was warped by the candlelight and shadows, though his gaze was entirely focused on your bare ass and weeping entrance. “Don’t tell me you don’t like pleasing your sir, fuckin’ look at you–filthy and already dripping wet for me.”

A low moan started in your throat before you could stop it. Bucky’s attention focused on your face – softening his manic glint only slightly. “Hands behind your back, lass,” he ordered, stepping closer to the bed and kneeling on the edge. “Go on now.”

“Sir,” you whined, shuffling your knees and arching your back further. “Please.”

“Do as you’re told, Minx, be a good girl. Hands behind your back.” The bed dipped behind you from Bucky’s weight, and you hastened to obey – his proximity and authoritative tone making your brain grow fuzzy. “That’s it, good girl.” 

The bed creaked as Bucky removed the last of his clothing, and you looked back to see him stark naked, hard and swollen cock bobbing between his legs as he shuffled closer. “We don’t need this,” he said, and the sound of fabric ripping filled the air and a chill settled over your bare back, shirt long gone. “Much better.”

“Please,” you whispered, and Bucky cooed, his scarred, rough hands rubbing over your ass and hips before one grabbed your crisscrossed wrists. “Please, sir.”

“Is my Minx achin’, hmm? Here?” The sudden brush of a finger against the weeping entrance of your cunt made you gasp, and you jolted forward. “Such a sensitive lass,” he whispered, rubbing his fingers up and down slowly, teasing your entrance. Biting your lip, you nodded. “Can’t have that, can we?”

“No,” you replied. The anticipation of finally being filled made your breath come in heavy pants, and you wiggled your hips to entice him to move, to finally get on with it. “Use me, sir–fuck me, and you’ll feel better, promise-”

“Oh, I know, sweetheart,” Bucky chuckled darkly, and he draped himself over your back and kissed your shoulder. “You just need to be a good girl and take it.”

A shout of surprise tore from your throat when Bucky finally thrust forward, his cock forcing its way in to sit to the hilt in one swift movement. The burn and pull of muscle as your body gave way to him made you hiss through your teeth, “Fuck!”

“God,” Bucky groaned, draping his chest over your back. “You feel so good, sweetheart, fuckin’ hell.”

A nonsensical moan fell from your lips as Bucky shallowly thrusted, his hips rocking back and forth so the head of his cock brushed against your walls in all the right places. “Oh my god,” you moaned, blinking rapidly to clear the tears that had gathered on your waterline. 

“Just stay like that, little Minx,” Bucky growled. His body heat left your back as he sat up, and you whimpered. “Easy, ‘m here,” he cooed. You felt the rough calluses of his hands brush over your hands just as he gripped your crisscrossed wrists. His other hand forced your face into the bed – effectively immobilising you. “You’re gonna let your sir fuck his anger out, aren’t you? You’re gonna sit there and take it?”

“Yes, yes–use me! I can take it,” you rushed, grinning against the soft cotton on the mattress, and you were rewarded with a sharp, quick thrust. “Sir!”

“Knew you could, lass.” The grip on your wrists tightened to be bruising, and you huffed, wriggling slightly in his grip to get closer, only to feel the sting of his palm and hear the resounding crack from his palm spanking your ass. “Sit fuckin’ still. How am I meant to fuck you if you keep squirmin’, sweetheart?”

“Sorry! ‘M sorry, sir, I’ll be still,” you gasped, rocking slightly. 

“Good girl,” Bucky praised. 

The first thrust punched the air from your lungs in a keening moan, and Bucky hummed approvingly, bending over your back while still rocking his hips. His hot breath fanned over your ear, and you whimpered, chasing the feeling of skin on skin. “Sound so pretty, Treasure, huh?” he purred. “But I think you can be louder than that. Let it out; let your sir hear you.”

The drag of Bucky’s cock over your walls made you moan loudly, and the sudden change in speed caused a domino effect you were powerless to control. “Feels s’good, sir! Fuck!”

Bucky’s hips slammed into yours, his growls and grunts of efforts adding to the litany of sounds that echoed off the walls of his cabin. His hand gripped your wrists tightly, the pain of his grip only adding to the pleasure that crested in the coil between your legs. 

The hand that held your face to the mattress still pinned you, and with the force of Bucky’s thrusts, your knees started to spread even further apart, forcing your back to arch – the angle sent him far deeper in your cunt than ever before.

You called out wordlessly the faster he thrust, the pace turning brutal as the bed frame below you creaked and groaned, the rocking matching the ferocity of the waves that gently swayed the ship. 

“Fuck, you feel s’good–never gonna leave your tight cunt,” Bucky moaned, his voice raspy with feral need. His words made your walls flutter, and you could just feel the arrogant smirk that quirked his bitten-red lips. “You like that idea, huh, little Minx? Jus’ being a hole for your sir to fuck and fill whenever he wants–’specially when he’s angry?”

“Oh my god,” you cried, “please!”

“Tell me, Treasure. Tell me you want it,” Bucky ordered, each word followed by a harsh thrust. “Go on.”

“I want it! I want it, please,” you begged. It was getting hard to think through the onslaught of pleasure, and If Bucky kept hitting that spot, you wouldn’t last much longer – not to mention if he kept up the train of filth falling from his lips in that tone, the tone of a Captain and sir. 

“Fuckin’ take it then, whore,” Bucky spat, and his hips pistoned into yours, each thrust became a sharp stab of pleasure adding to the inferno burning through every last one of your nerves. “Cum for me, cum on your sir’s cock–lemme feel it.”

Your thighs began to shake, the wave becoming too hard to keep your head above. “Oh, fuck, please! I’m close!”

Bucky angled his hips down and fucked you onto the bed, a snarl on his lips and his panting breaths fanned over your ear and cheek. “Give it to me, sweetheart–fuckin’ cum, now.”

The command made your eyes roll and your body seized as the waves consumed you. A scream tore from your throat as you fell off the cliff into the waves, and Bucky moaned loudly, grinding his hips and digging his cock further into your heat. “That’s it, lass, fuckin’ good girl–such a good girl, milkin’ my fuckin’ cock, shit.”

Bucky’s breath hitched on a moan while you pulsed around him – his hips faltering before a whimper fell from his lips as warmth spread in your cunt, his spend leaking from your entrance and onto the cotton sheets covering the bed. 

“Fuck,” he breathed, lowering himself over your back, still thrusting shallowly. “Good god, my love–y’know just how to snap me out of it.”

“Sure do,” you giggled, sighing contentedly. “Love having my sir fuck me.”

A soft kiss landed on your shoulder, and Bucky exhaled heavily. “I didn’t hurt you, did I?”

“No–no, you didn’t, love,” you replied quietly, smiling. “I hurt just as I should, just as I wanted.”

Bucky chuckled and shifted to sit up, his softening cock leaving your cunt and making you feel empty. “We made a mess,” he observed, his hand running up and down the back of your thigh. “Should fuck you like that more often.”

Just to fuck with him a little more, you tensed once, twice, and a groan echoed behind you. “Good god, you fuckin’ whore–teasin’ me like that. You have no idea what that does to me, Minx.”

“Oh, but I do,” you replied, winking. 

Bucky stared at you, his lips in a firm line and eyes flashing dangerously. “I’m not done with you. Stay there while I get something to clean you up with.”

Following orders, while second nature, had never been so rewarding.

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Graphics & Header made by yours truly.

Masterlist | Library | AO3 | Wattpad

[thyme-in-a-bubble]

boo! surprise bitches! i'm doing kinktober this year! finally doing it! bet you didn't see that one coming, did you hehe 🕸

there is a good mix of both short and long stories coming your way throughout this (and i will also still occasionally post other fics this month that aren't related to this). also, a handful of these fics are darker in nature, thought it was fitting for halloween, so remember to read the warnings, if there's something that's not for you then please, as always, be kind to yourself and don't read the story.

masterlist | join my taglist

day one | sore

stepbro!sirius black x cheerleader!reader + dubcon massage

day two | don't smile

steve rogers + throat fucking + size kink

day three | stuffed

devil!eddie munson & angel!steve harrington + tentecles + double penetration in one hole

day four | a little fashion show

best friend!stiles stilinski + lingerie

day five | stay still

peter parker + bondage

day six | hold up, let me record this

jj maybank + tittyfucking + sextape

day seven | the palace guards

guards!poly!marauders x princess!reader + secrets relationship

day eight | it’s practically like we’re down there with them

mob boss!bucky barnes + exhibitionism

day nine | keep that pretty mouth shut

tommy shelby + keep quiet quickie

day ten | I couldn’t find it in me to wake you

poe dameron + somno thigh fucking

day eleven | I just want you a little longer all to myself

matt murdock + secret office sex

day twelve | nothing more than a toy

rafe cameron + using you like a toy to masturbate with

day thirteen | I still got a few rounds left in me

boxer!steve rogers + bathtub sex

day fourteen | open your fucking mouth

dark!wild west cowboy!joel miller + gun kink

day fifteen | tiny

miguel o'hara x fairy!reader + extreme size difference

day sixteen | the wall between us

cult member!steve harrington + fem glory hole + breeding

day seventeen | be a rebel, be bad, stay here and cuddle with me

spencer reid + aftercare

day eighteen | pleasant pile of pillows

brother's best friend!james potter + pillow humping

day nineteen | ring ring

sam winchester x reader x bf!dean winchester + phone sex + cheating

day twenty | window

perv!neighbour!billy russo + voyeurism

day twenty-one | say yes

fiancé!bruce wayne + possessiveness

day twenty-two | i can think of something better than that

bucky barnes + anal

day twenty-three | double check

dark!professor!ben solo + power imbalance + manipulation

day twenty-four | maroon

vampire!remus lupin + biting + blood kink

day twenty-five | i want you

pirate captain!miguel o'hara + sex as payment

day twenty-six | teamwork

pro football team!avengers (bf!steve rogers, bucky barnes, pietro maximoff, clint barton, sam wilson, tony stark, thor odinson) + gangbang

day twenty-seven | my little flower

din djarin + fantasy au + cockwarming

day twenty-eight | hysteria

doctor!aleksander morozova x hysteria patient!reader + historical au + fuck machine

day twenty-nine | can't fight the moonlight

werewolf!bucky barnes x gf!reader + predator/prey + monsterfucking

day thirty | magical mimic

eddie munson x witch!reader + magical mutual masturbation

day thirty-one | you can’t put it in

stepbro!peter parker + halloween pussyjob

© 2023 thyme-in-a-bubble 

[lunaroserites]

Yall want a mermaid fic in honour of Mermay?

I have a Pirate!Bucky x Mermaid!Reader fic hiding in my wips.

Lemme know if you want it!

[tarithenurse]

Pirate's Bounty IV

Fandom: MCU AU Pairing/starring: 1st mate!Bucky x Pirate princess!reader Word count: 1797. Content: Smut...lots of it. A/N: I really think this is the last one. Probably.

Pirate’s Bounty IV

She has hated being apart from her ship and crew. Most of all, although she isn’t quite ready to admit that, she has hated being apart from Bucky. She knows he has been a good leader in her absence but now that the landlocked treaties are completed and she can return to port, she hurries along the dock to her awaiting ship.

The men are mostly about in town - she saw a few of them sleeping it off in the shade by the whorehouse – but she instinctively knows that Bucky will be waiting onboard, eager to have her back so they can set out. He’s never been much for the times they’ve spent in port.

The gangplank is out. Swanson, the deckhand is scrubbing gull-shit off the deck but he pauses to salute awkwardly as always and point her towards the captain’s quarters as if she doesn’t know her own ship.

She is about to tear the door open without knocking when it opens from within, a strong arm reaches out and she’s pulled inside. She barely has time to register the familiar scent before she’s slammed against the wood as the door closes behind her and Bucky’s lips are upon her.

“About fucking time,” he growls.

His large hands are on her hips, pinning her in place so high up that she has to stand on her tip toes or be carried. Deciding on the deliciousness of the latter, she wraps her legs around his waist.

“That horrible to be in charge?” she giggles, chasing his lips that are claiming all of her face and neck.

“Worse!” he sighs. “They second guess everything I say, whine about their tasks, and now they’ve burned through their wages in this dump.”

She doesn’t recall her crew being that troublesome, but perhaps they’ve missed her too? It hardly matters right now, though, because Bucky is nibbling at her throat, a hand drifting up her side to guide her hand above her head, pinning it there.

I’m growing soft, the captain has time to think before the moan slips out.

She rocks softly against, him urging his other hand to explore her curves and his mouth to find the sweet spots that have been yearning for attention for almost two weeks now.

It’s possible to feel his erection through his leather trousers and it’s nudging to deliciously against her sweet spot, making her think of how he once taught her to find pleasure on his thigh. Now it’s different. Now she craves more.

“Yes, captain,” he says – apparently she’s voiced her need out loud.

Setting her down for a moment, Bucky kneels before her so he can hoist up her skirts – an evil necessity dictated by the facade upheld at the treaty signing. But right now it grants easy access as all Bucky has to do is disappear under the layers, pull her intimates aside and latch on with his lips, hot tongue delving through her slit and causing her to hum in delight at the sensation.

He’s skilled. For a brief second she envies the women he must have trained on but the thought is purged from her mind the moment he flicks her pearl, fingers digging into her thighs to keep her in place.

Within minutes he’s got her on the verge of orgasm just with his tongue.

Rather than grant it to her, though, he pulls out from underneath the clothes: his hair is a mess and his lips are glistening with her juices but he grins happily.

“Not yet,” he purrs.

Standing up, he strips before her. Muscles bulging and dancing with each movement and the skin smooth and tan except where the large scar runs on his shoulder – there it’s pink and lumpy even after so many years. It’s a miracle he kept the arm. Even more so that he can use it perfectly, an ability he is happy to demonstrate by helping his captain shed every layer of clothes until they can be skin to skin.

Pulling her by the waist against him, back to chest, he inhales her scent before allowing his hands to roam everywhere. Tweaking the nipples that react by puckering up, trailing a finger down the spine before slapping her rear harshly.

“Get in bed,” he orders.

“Yes sir,” she purrs.

The bed is an alcove, wide and deep but not with a lot of room above. Following her in, Bucky manhandles her onto all fours, getting into position behind her to bury his head in her cunt one more time, a thumb caressing the puckered hole which causes her to tense. Causes her to tighten even as she wants to welcome the finger her presses into the wet heat of the cunt, bringing her surging back towards the precipice of delight.

Another finger joins the first, pumping, wriggling, scissoring. Hitting that gummy spot that has her toes curl and hands scramble for the pillow to drag it against her face so she can moan unabashedly into it.

So close. Already her breathing is seizing.

But then he pulls back again, making her whine.

“Wanna make you beg for it,” he huffs and she can hear the devious grin on his voice.

“Never,” she promises.

Pulling her back onto his lap, he slowly spears her on his cock and oh my has she missed that stretch. That fullness. Her spine arches, arms flailing gently until he takes her hands and pins them against her breasts. He’s got her where he wants but she is still free to roll her hips a few times before his other hands manages a bruising grip on her there too.

“And now?” she breathes, mostly too full to think.

“Now you wait.”

There’s a slight delay before the words fully register in her mind. “What?”

She tries to wriggle but it’s to no avail. Her cunt is begging for more, for friction, but all she’s getting is the pressure of his size.

Then the hand on her hips moves, sliding between her legs to toy with her pearl in a slow and lazy pace that he sometimes underlines by bucking up into her. It keeps her on the edge yet far enough from toppling over.

Until suddenly he lurches forward, catching her before she slams headfirst into the mattress and lowering her gently until she rests with her ass up in the air. Quickly, his fingers return to their playing but at least her own hands are free now. Good thing too. His thrusts are deeper and while they’re still slow, they grant her some of what she craves, causing her to groan as she nears the threshold.

“So close,” she gasps.

That’s when he stills again withdrawing his hand to rest on her back. She can hear how his breath is strained like hers but he has stopped.

“Don’t stop!” she whines.

“Then beg.”

She glares at him over the shoulder, barely catching a glimpse of a shit-eating grin. “Never.”

“Suit yourself.”

In defiance, she brings a hand to cup her cunt, fingers slipping against the root of his thick cock due to the slick that’s gathered...but next moment both her hands are in his grasp and behind her back.

“Why?” she pouts.

“Need you to learn your lesson...you need me.”

She furrows her brows into the pillow. “Sounded like you needed me the way you complained.”

“Oh absolutely...but one doesn’t rule out the other.”

Bucky is still slowly rutting into her, a steady drag over the spot that has her gasping for air and squirming for more. Squeezing around his cock earns her a growl. Of course she does it again, then, but this time he punishes her with a light slap of her rear. It only stings a little but the warning is clear.

“Bucky...” she whines.

“You know the word,” he hums.

She’s torn, on one hand wanting release while on the other hand being so stupidly stubborn that she could curse herself to hell and back before giving in.

Slowly pulling out so the tip only breaches her core, Bucky waits for an answer.

She feels so empty now. Hollow. Pushing backwards, he too moves, keeping the position of his cock roughly the same.

“Buck...” A tear is sliding down her cheek. “...please...” she begs so quietly it’s barely audible over the groaning of the ship and the sloshing of water outside the hull.

But he hears.

Ramming forward, she sheathes himself fully before setting a rapid pace, a hand snaking between her thighs once again to flick and circle her pearl.

She has her face buried in the pillow and good thing too because each thrust is so deep that it pushes the very air from her lungs with loud moans that the bit of fluff manages to muffle at least a bit.

Then finally it happens: with a keening cry, she is allowed to cum, walls fluttering around his cock as he ruts into her still. She has no air to breathe, no vision to keep her grounded with. All that is, is the intense light through her body that makes her clamp hard onto his shaft as it drags in and out of her.

Dizzy, she gasps but still he pounds into her, prolonging her climax with a finger pressing down on the bundle by her cunt.

Then suddenly it’s gone, and her walls flutter on their own around nothing for a moment while Bucky turns his captain in the bed and brings her legs onto his shoulders. Large hands grab her already bruised hip and pulls her onto his cock before he leans down over her, folding her in half and hitting a new spot that has her returning vision go blurry all over again.

“Do you...need me?” he breathes hard with every other thrust.

“Yes!” she cries. “I need you!”

It feels so good. No one else has ever had the chance to make her feel this way but she doesn’t want any one else to have the chance.

“Need you,” she almost chants despite not getting enough air, “want you. Only you.”

His hips are pistoning, the drag of his cock delirium inducing. “Why?” he growls.

She has to fight through the second wave of ecstasy. “Make me...make me feel...so good...” she gasps, nails scouring his back, “so good...need you...love you.”

He slams in one last time before stilling, hot cum filling her cunt and as he rocks slowly it squelches obscenely. She can feel his cock twitch with each pulse. Blinking through the haze she finds his gaze. Dark and deep and soft.

“I...love you...” she repeats as surprised by the revelation as he seems to be.

Bucky leans down to kiss her. “Love you too...new it from before I had you.”

[darkdemeter]

・issue #--・ 𝐒𝐈𝐑𝐄𝐍, 𝐁𝐄 𝐁𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐃 𝐓𝐎 𝐌𝐄

⚤ Dark Pirate!Bucky Barnes x Siren!Female Reader Pirate Bucky — semi dark Bucky — submissive/soft captive reader — possessive Bucky — SMUT 18+, Minors DNI! — P in V sex — memory loss/wiping via magic (reader affected) — light use of physical and sexual acts to avoid conflict — indirect breeding kink? — pet names — brief consumption of alcohol — I think that's it? ✎ 4.1k He is your captain. There is no place you'd rather be than by his side, nothing you could ever want for that is not him. You owe everything, your entire self, to him. Yet overboard and on the tide you sail across, in search for a great and ancient treasure, a song continues to seep through the cracks of your heart and soul… a song so familiar yet unknown. Forgotten. Bucky reminds you yet again that there is no place else for you that isn't beside him, that there is nothing out there.

↳ MASTERLIST | ↳ TAGLISTS ────────────────────────

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

  “Aye?” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

  Your head bounces quickly. “Yes...” 

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

  He drawls with a warning growl, “Yes?”

  “Yes, Captain Barnes.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

  To remind you to whom it was you belong to. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

  “Please, please… Cap—”

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

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

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

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

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

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

  “Still deny that you found nothing?” 

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

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

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

  For you to be his siren. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

THANKS FOR READING!

✎ a note from the author, Yes. Yes... YAAAAS! IM DOING IT! I'm frickin' writing a pirate Bucky! Mmmm! Fuckin' love pirate stuff, I'm just living for Bucky being a hot pirate commanding a vessel on the high seas.

on this issue's taglist, we've got: @identity2212 @sebastianstansqueen @openup-yourmind @kandis-mom @calwitch @cjand10 @ashdoctor @missmarvelophilic

[sytoran]

𝐃𝐀𝐘 𝟎𝟎𝟓 — 𝐌𝐄𝐑𝐌𝐀𝐏𝐇𝐈𝐋𝐈𝐀

kinktober day 005 | mermaid!wanda x pirate!reader

as captain of a notorious gang of pirates, you've got a reputation of steel, but when there's a pretty little mermaid presenting herself for you, there's no chance in hell you're not saying yes.

cont. sweet talk, begging, humiliation, overstimulation word count. 2178

kinktober masterlist || main masterlist

“Righto, fellas, so we got sixty ducats – twenty doubloons, is it?” Bucky asks lackadaisically, tossing gold coins up and down with his good hand. 

A loud guffaw surrounds the group of you huddled around the campfire. You shake your head with a toothy grin at your right-hand man’s idiocy. Even the least educated pirates in your gang knew what sixty divided by two was.

You reach over and knock the side of Bucky’s head with your bloodied knuckles. “That brain cavity wouldn’t make a drinkin’ cup for a canary, buddy.” 

“Aw, kiss my boot, ya fuckin’ cunt-licker,” the dark-haired man grumbles in response, still playing with his shiny gold coins. He playfully punches your arm his prosthetic one.

In record timing, you whip out your dagger from your cow-skin belt and pierce the hole in Bucky’s coin midair, pinning the coin to the nearest tree with a deadly aim.

“Cunt-licker is right,” you say smugly, going to ruffle Bucky’s already shaggy hair. The impressed hoots and jeering taunts at your dagger-throwing skills are all good-hearted, as is the general atmosphere within your gang.

The lot of you were specialists in your craft, the most formidable and deadly in the piracy industry. Five years ago, you had claimed the largest plot of land that was the very island you lived on with your mates. Tu’Au was surrounded by the freshest of ocean water and the most gorgeous of views.

There was also a legend of the mystical mermaids that lived beneath Tu’Au, but you didn’t believe any of that bosh and bullshit about supernatural creatures. You’d believe it when you saw one with your very own eyes.

“Yall’ finish up counting our loot for the day, I’m gonna take a walk by the shore,” you say, adjusting the piece of tobacco between your lips and then dusting off your pants. “Don’t let Buck do the counting.”

“Got it, boss,” Steve answers promptly, ever the loyal one. Bucky rolls his eyes.

Loveable idiots, you think, tossing your hat to the side. Strolling away from the main camp, you finally take a deep inhale of that tobacco, smoke trailing off into the orange sunset.

As you walk along the shore, bare feet on the wet sand, you look up and close your eyes. It was times like these that were simple, times like these that you never wanted to end—

“I said, get away from me! Please, just leave me alone!”

A feminine, desperate cry from the distant ocean has you blinking open your eyes in sudden alertness, darting to the source of the sound.

From a short distance to shore, there is chaos occurring within the waters. What seems to be a muscular, bare-chested man is swimming inhumanly fast towards a significantly smaller-sized woman with long, cascading hair. 

Though both of them certainly spoke like regular humans, there was a certain way about their moving in the waters and tremendous presence that had you second-guessing yourself.

“Get back here, you good for nothin’! You’ll make up your mind when I fuckin’ want you to!”

He’s yelling foul words at her, catching up to her already, clearly incredibly unpleased. Suddenly, the man dives down, and you catch sight of a shimmering blue tail above the waters before it disappears.

Hang on a damn moment. Merfolk are real?

But before your brain can process what you truly just saw, the merman reemerges much closer to the mermaid, massive gold spear in a vice grip.

As if a gear was kicked into motion, you sprint towards the water. Kicking up water as you run through the shallow part of the ocean, you stumble but never slow down, eyes set on the target. It’s prey-or-predator right now, either conquer the enemy or die trying.

The said target has got the mermaid in his massive arms, wrapping around her torso and forcefully dragging her back into the deep waters. Her strangled cries get muffled by the water, cries and pleas ringing in your ears.

Just before you dive into the water, your hand flies to that trusty weapon holster, and a sharp dagger flies at the merman with an air-cutting, brutal force. “Y/N bullseye L/N,” you remember Bucky saying with a stupid grin on his face. “Never misses a shot.”

A millisecond before your plunge into the ocean, the stunning blue eyes of the mermaid meet yours, and you lose all the air in your lungs.

You’ve never seen anything like it, never laid your eyes upon such a breathtaking beauty before. Blue eyes deeper than the depths of the ocean, sparkling more than the brightest of glimmering stars, 

An agonized cry from the merman hauls you out of your trance. The dagger struck him directly in the right eye, just as expected, just as you had calculated. Opaque red blood comes out in spurts, and his hands release the mermaid and go to clutch at his eye.

Your arms glide in the water, smooth and cutting, bringing you closer to the struggling pair. 

Seizing the moment of the merman’s distractedness, you wrap your arms around the mermaid. You immediately notice the way she sinks into your embrace, head drooping to lean against your chest as you struggle to move through the water.

You really try to not think too hard about the lithe body in your arms. It was proving to be an incredibly difficult task.

After your hell of an escapade, you have the mermaid girl propped up against the wet rocks. It takes a while for you to notice that you’re on all fours above her, panting heavily with wide eyes and a drenched white shirt.

When you do realise it, though, you get off her immediately, clearing your throat awkwardly. So much for being a scary pirate.

“You alright?” you ask instead, fiddling with the collar of your white shirt. It had gotten drenched while you were in the water, along with all your clothes and your hair.

You were having a hard time trying to avoid looking at her chest since it was literally in front of you.

“You saved me,” the mermaid finally speaks, eyelashes wet with drops of water, her voice softer and sweeter than you could ever have imagined. You get a bit lost in the delicacy of her red lips as she stares back at you.

“Right,” you answer, your throat suddenly dry. 

“What is your name, human?” the mermaid asks, hand going to stroke at the curvature of your jawline that was dotted with droplets of water. The touch was honey-like.

“Y/N. How ‘bout you?”

“Wanda.”

“That’s a pretty name.”

“Prettier than me?”

“No,” you answer a little too quickly, voice a little hoarser than before. Your eyes dart around to focus on anything but the ethereal mermaid before you, but soon they land on a wound at her tail.

“Oh, shucks, you’re bleeding. I’ll go get bandages an’ stuff from base,” you say, looking at the nasty wound on the tip of Wanda’s tail, incarnadine blood leaking out of it.

“Don’t go,” the mermaid suddenly says, and there’s this little begging lilt to her voice that messes up your brain chemistry. “I mean, mermaids have healing properties, so you don’t have to go,” she mumbles, looking away with her cheeks flushed. Cute.

“That’s cool,” you answer, leaning back to let your hands run over the tip of her tail. Just like she said, the wound heals itself, slowly stitching back that scaly-smooth skin with a magical touch.

You give her tail a long stroke, running your fingers through the little scales that decorate this new thing you’d like to explore.

“Hng,” a little whimper suddenly escapes from the mermaid, and the both of you freeze. It’s a fine line between comedy and erotica.

You rub at her tail again, harder this time, and Wanda lets out a louder moan. 

You start massaging her tail, hands spreading out over the sensitive area, kneading gently. Wanda’s face is absolutely flushed, eyes screwed shut in pleasure, the prettiest thing you’d ever seen.

“Kiss me?” she asks, breathlessly, and you don’t have to be told twice.

Warm mouths meet in an inferno of lust, Wanda’s head tilting up to meet yours, your head tilting down to chase hers. The moment you taste the sweetness of her lips, a trigger is flicked inside of your brain, and your body kicks it into overdrive.

Your hands tug off the seashell bra with unbridled haste, flinging it behind you without a care in the world. Wanda squeaks against your lips at your sudden boldness, hands going to encircle the back of your neck.

But that’s before you’re grabbing both her wrists with one hand and pinning it above her head against the wet rock. She moans as your lips make their way down the column of her porcelain, leaving red hickeys into the pale canvas like it was a work of art.

It was true, to a certain extent, because this mermaid before you was a work of art: brown hair splayed onto the wet rock like something out of a Renaissance painting, water droplets across her eyelids, breathing and panting your name, hips moving helplessly under your stronger body, trying to chase a fraction of the pleasure that you’re dangling out of reach.

Your mouth latches on to her supple breasts with eagerness, lips wrapping around her hardened bud. Wanda lets out a shriek when you suck on it, hard. As a mermaid, the sensations and emotions that they felt were many times that of a human, and you were making it no easier for her.

“N-Need you,” Wanda pleads, when you flick at her other pretty pink nipple, admiring how her body arches along with the sensation. 

“Need me where?” you ask, a lust-coated rasp in your voice, edged with a tone of teasing that has Wanda’s head spinning. 

You finally release her hands, and Wanda grabs your right hand with certainty, sliding it down her shuddering body and scaled tail to where a pussy would be.

Instead, your fingertips find a hot, wet, slit.

“Fuck,” you growl into Wanda’s skin, lost in the sheer thoughts of how much you could ruin her.

“Please?” Wanda begs again, giving you the biggest doe eyes she could. You didn’t need any convincing, anyway.

“All this for me?” You ask, ruthlessly plunging two fingers into her dripping slit. It’s warm and wet, and so tight. Your fingers explore, straightening out then curling in, going in big circles then in smaller ones.

All through your unabashed exploration of Wanda’s cunt, the pretty little mermaid is left completely at your mercy. She’s writhing, never been touched like this before.

“S’ too, too much,” she babbles incoherently when you slide a third finger in, thrusting in and out of her gorgeous little cunt like it’d be the last time you’d get to do this. Because in all honesty, it might be.

That thought alone spurs you on to go even faster, playing with Wanda’s body like a fiddle, making all the right noises with the right fingerings.

“Y/N,” she cries, long fingernails ripping the back of your vest to shreds. You don’t give a damn about it.

Turns out, mermaids have several sweet spots, because you’re finding all of them and breaking her with it.

“Gonna cum already?” you ask, “Needy little thing, hm? Couldn’t even wait five minutes?” Wanda tries to shake her head, but your other hand is stroking the length of her tail.

“Come f’me, sweet thing.”

Those words send her over the edge, snapping the knot that had been building in her belly.

“Y/N!” Wanda screams, a melodious tune, hands clawing at the edges of the rocks, then the back of your neck, all while her head is thrown back. Her tail is flapping in a state of no control, lost in the pleasure you’re feeding her.

Acknowledging the delicious tightening of Wanda’s mermaid slit around your three fingers, you opt to instead go at an even faster pace, fingers thrusting deeper into her body, because you wanted every inch of it.

“Y/N,” Wanda sobs, because she sees stars. Those brilliant blue eyes getting teary with your relentless pace. The tears escape the corners of her eyes and cascade down her cheeks like a waterfall.

It’s a sight you’d imprint into your memory forever, when Wanda’s ocean blue eyes roll into the back of her head and her little mermaid body goes limp in your arms.

You admire her for many moments, at how she had made you fuck her silly, at how she was yours now.

—

“Why’re you smilin’ like a baked possum?” Bucky asks you once you head back to camp. It’s early the next day, still dark out in the wide seas. He’s sprawled out on a wide hammock, sharpening a knife. Steve is cuddled into his chest.

Your lips curve into a stupidly smug smirk. “Not that you would know a dime about pussy, but remember what you said about cunt-lickers?”

kinktober masterlist || main masterlist

[crushedbyhyperbole]

Well... fuck Lawrence! If I somehow manage to survive this I'm going to rip his throat out, set him on fire then piss on his charred corpse 🤬 and poor Bucky, how quickly he lost the respect of his men... maybe I was a curse after all😒

Sky Full of Song (7)

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

pairings: pirate!bucky x pirate/siren!reader

chapter word count: 7k

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

🏴‍☠️ series masterlist // series playlist

You woke with a crick in your neck.  

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

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

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