I Love Having Badass Readers

Ok ok so.

Spencer x male reader where the reader has been working at the BAU for at least a year, maybe a little while longer. But! He has 2 full sleeve tattoos, and none of the team knows about it. Because he is always wearing suits or shirts that cover them well. (Also he has other tattoos but the focus of this idea was the sleeves.) And the reader is pretty buff in my mind but doesn’t have to be.

One night after a case they go to their local bar(O’Keefs? I could be so wrong). And the reader has gone home and is wearing a t-shirt under a jacket so when he gets to the table where everyone is the team is very 😱😮. And Penelope makes a comment about how attractive the reader is(flirts the way that she flirts with Derek) but later(or then, either) Spencer talks to reader and thinks that he is v-attractive with tattoos, not that he wasn’t before, cue rambling Spencer.

Last minute thought! This could also work with Aaron, so whatever you are feeling.

I just made the bar O'Keefe's because I didn't know either loll Also, sorry it's short, I didn't really know what to write 😅 Edited by @mystic-writes

Gif by @reidgifs

You walk into the bar and sigh, already feeling sweaty and gross. You knew this would happen, you just hoped for a miracle. But it's always hot on O'Keefe's, and even if it wasn't as humid out today as it has been, you still probably would be in the same dilemma as you are in now.

You walk over to the table filled with your co-workers, and you give a tight smile and wave, walking over as you take your jacket off, revealing a very tight white t-shirt.

"Hey guys," you say, sitting down, putting your jacket over the back of your chair.

They all stare at you, open mouthed.

"What?" you ask, trying to play it off, but you are incredibly nervous.

"You didn't tell me you had TATS!" Garcia exclaims, and a couple people glare at her, but you just feel yourself blushing.

"Uh, yeah…" you trail off, rubbing your hands up and down your arms.

"How did we not know this?" Morgan asks.

"He's always wearing long sleeves. Even when it's fuckin' hot outside," Emily says.

You shrug. "I didn't really want to show them off in the field I guess."

"What about at work? You could have shown them there?" Rossi asks.

You shake your head. "Where Strauss could see? She would have a conniption!"

Garcia, Morgan, Rossi, and Prentiss all laugh.

"How much have you spent on your tattoos?" Hotch asks, and you look over at him. He's eyeing your tattoos almost enviously.

You smirk. "I have an artist I go back to every time, and he gives me discounts. I can give you guys his number if you want? Just say you're a friend of [Y/N]."

Everyone clambors for the number except Hotch and Spencer, but you see Hotch inputting it into his phone when the others aren't looking.

Eventually, they all move away, and you're left with Spencer at the table, nursing a beer.

Spencer leans over and says, "Uh, ahem. So… I-I like your tattoos."

You feel yourself begin to blush again. "Really? I would have thought…"

"Thought what?" Spencer asks after you trail off.

You sigh and mutter, "I thought you wouldn't like them. That you'd think I was ruining my body with my tattoos."

Spencer's eyes go wide and he says, "What? No! I-I really like them. They're very beautiful."

He reaches a hand out as if to touch, but pulls away. You hold your arm out for him, and he looks up at you, eyes shining. You nod, and he reaches out, tracing your tattoos underneath his fingertips.

"Go out with me."

Your eyes widen as you blurt this put, and you go to open your mouth to say something, anything, but Spencer cuts you off.

"Yes."

You grin, and grab his hand.

Fuck I love this fics and I only have 2 parts left I’m so sad right now !!!

Hands That Heal - Ch.8

Bucky Barnes x mechanic!fem!reader

Chapter Summary: You thought you were done with everything to do with Axel but the club is not done with you yet. Things have to get worse before they can get better. Chapter Warning: 18+ only, death, reader gets injured/tortured Word count: 1810

Series Warnings: 18+ only, canon-typical violence, swearing, fluff, misogyny/degrading comments from some men, smut.

Main Masterlist || Bucky Masterlist || Hands That Heal Masterlist

RECAP: “It feels like home, you feel like home.” His arms were already open for you as you crashed against his chest and wrapped your arms around his neck. You could hardly kiss him because your lips refused to do anything other than smile against his. He always managed to brighten your dark days, and that was why you knew you wanted to have him around forever. “Welcome home, Bucky.”

━━━━━━♡♥♡━━━━━━

The flash of blue and red lights filled your driveway and lit up the living room you had fallen asleep in, snuggled in Bucky’s arms on the couch. The call of your doorbell brought back memories of the last time you had seen the same casting of colours outside and the police had come with the news that your father had died. There was already a pit forming in your stomach as you climbed off the couch and went to answer the door.

You couldn’t seem to understand why the police were at your door, you were so wrapped up in the memory of the two other officers that you blinked twice and asked them to repeat themselves.

“I said I’m sorry to inform you that we found Axel Hedges deceased this morning. We are still investigating the crash but it's likely we expect the toxicology reports to come back conclusive.” The officer repeated before he noticed Bucky joining you and he looked like he was going to ask for an autograph.

You felt guilty for feeling relieved and you felt guilty for feeling sad. For a large period of your life you had loved Axel but who he had become was a sick and twisted shadow of the boy next door. The man who died was a manipulative, narcissistic asshole and the world was a better place without him, that’s what you told yourself to suppress the rise of emotions.

“Why did you come here?” You asked as they stood awkwardly on your porch.

“You are, were, Axel’s next of kin.”

Of course, he would never have thought about keeping little things like that up to date, it was probably still the same information that you had given his parole officer when he was released from prison.

“Right.” You sighed. “Uh, thanks for letting me know.”

“Once the autopsy is finished the body will be released so you can have a funeral.”

You really couldn’t believe that they were expecting you to organise his funeral, you were more likely to dump him in the Hudson at this point. “Actually, here’s Jess’ number. She’s his wife, she can sort this out. I’m done with him.”

You scribbled the number on a notepad and handed it to the cops before crossing your arms, trying to bring some comfort from your own touch.

“Sorry, it’s been a bit of a rough night.” Bucky apologised with a small smile.

“It wouldn’t have anything to do with the pool of blood on the drive?” The officer asked and you flinched at the reminder, the feel of Benny’s blood still on your fingers even after washing them a million times.

“Her dog got run over, didn’t make it.” Bucky lied smoothly before nudging you back to the lounge with a look that said he would sort it for you, so you left him to it. “Look, you know Axel’s history, he’d show up here on his bike drunk and high to abuse y/n. She’s been through enough because of him, if you don’t mind just keep her out of anything related to him.”

“Yeah, of course, Sergeant.” The officer nodded understandably and held up the paper with Jess’ name and number. “I’ll make sure everything goes to his wife from now on.”

You had stopped listening after that, glad that you could finally move on from Axel, the club, all of it. There was nothing to get in the way of you and Bucky…except his work. The world could only handle a few months of peace at a time then some uprising would call him away. At least he wasn’t out there on his own, he had his partner Sam to watch his back and you to call him every morning and night, reminding him why he kept fighting the good fight.

━━━━━━♡♥♡━━━━━━

“I miss you.” You pouted at the phone, not that he could see, as you walked home from work.

“I’ll be home soon, doll.” He replied just as longingly but grateful to only be a few states over in Washington. “I can’t sleep when I’m away from you, and Sam snores really bad.”

“Do not.” You heard from the background and laughed as you rounded the corner to your street.

“Do to.”

“Well I’ll leave you boys to settle that argument.” You offered as they began to bicker back and forth much to your amusement. Then you saw an old Corolla parked on the side of the road, hood up and a woman looking lost as she waved the steam away. “I gotta go.”

“Are you alright?” Bucky was suddenly serious and you could picture his frown at the other end.

“Yeah, babe, there’s just a woman who looks like she could use my help.” You smiled at his concern. “I’ll call you back when I get inside, it looks like a cracked radiator.”

“Alright, love you.”

“Love you too.”

You slipped your phone in your pocket and crossed the street to see if you could help her get on her way. “Hey, car troubles?”

She spun around and nodded her head as she pointed to the engine. “It’s always breaking down on me.”

“It happens.” You shrugged and lifted your heavy tool box up. “I can take a look if you want?”

“Thanks, but that’s not necessary.” She said as the car door opened and she began to step away. “It’s running fine.”

“We just needed to catch you away from your boyfriend.” Rex smirked as he straightened his kutte, the President patch instilling fear deep in your bones. “Wanted to have a little chat.”

“There’s nothing to talk about.” You said as you opened your tool box and grabbed a large wrench. “I’ve nothing to do with the club anymore.”

“Axel always bragged that you still had his tattoo.” He countered as he kept up his slow, menacing encroachment towards you. “You want nothing to do with the club, then fire or knife.”

“That’s just for members, I’m not a member!” You began to panic as he pulled a hunting knife out of his hip sheath.

“It’s for whoever the fuck I say it is, I’m President.” He growled. “And I got a dead member who was barely even wasted the night he died. We both know Axel could be black out drunk and ride perfectly, so it seems a little odd right. Cops won’t do anything, they don’t give a shit about us so I have to take matters into my own hands.”

“I know you miss him but I don’t know where you are going with this. He had an accident, it happens.”

“I don’t think it was.” He shook his head and pointed the knife at you. “I think you know that too.”

You swung the wrench at him as he tried to reach out but his gloved hand caught it and ripped it from your hands, tossing it away from you. Turning on your heels you sprinted towards your fence, you didn’t have time to unlock the gate but if you could climb over and get to the car you could get your gun. You had only just reached the fence when you were pushed and your body slammed into the metal mesh, face pressed roughly into it as Rex held his knife to your throat.

“Shouldn’t have done that, little girl.”

Your fingers were slipping into your pocket as you tried to not move your neck against the knife and you pressed your thumb to the fingerprint scanner then prayed your muscle memory hit the right buttons to call Bucky. You tried not to think about waking up that night and Bucky missing from the bed, you tried not to think that maybe Rex was right. Is that what Bucky meant when he would do anything for you, would he have killed Axel? You knew he had the capability but you didn’t think he had the capacity, not anymore at least.

“Phoebe, get the torch from the car.”

Your stomach dropped at the order and you screamed as you tried to get someone to call the cops but this neighbourhood was no longer the family friendly place it was 15 years ago, now everyone kept their heads low and kept their nose out of everyone else’s business. There would be no one coming for you. Rex grabbed your keys from your pocket and unlocked the gate before dragging you into your garage.

“You said you just wanted to talk to her.” Phoebe stuttered as she held a small blow torch in her hand and watched with horror as Rex pulled the back of your shirt away to show the tattoo Axel had given you.

“Shut up, bitch, just give me the fucking thing.”

She looked torn but there was no way she was going to go against the head of the Sinners MC, not if she wanted to survive. You fought against the hold Rex had on you but a hard blow to the back of your head sent the world spinning and your vision in a daze.

“Tell me the truth and I’ll stop, did you get your new boyfriend to kill Axel?”

You couldn’t answer, you couldn’t move, not even when the stench of burning skin and your screams pierced the air and left Phoebe cowering with her hands over her head. You couldn’t even feel the pain, you were already losing consciousness when a stealth jet landed in your yard.

You dropped as the hold on you was released, your body sliding along the sleek panels of your car until you were left numb on the concrete floor. You didn’t even realise you were crying until your teardrops landed on the surface of oil stains, the droplets reflecting the iridescent colours of the oil slick. It was the only thing keeping you conscious, your mind fixating on the way your tears refused to mingle with the oil but pain was slowly beginning to push its way through the shock.

“Shhh, it’s me, doll.” Bucky soothed as he cradled your body, catching the fist you weakly tried to throw as you felt someone touching you. “I got you. Sam! Where’s that ambulance!”

You looked up and found blue eyes swimming in tears and you wanted to wipe them away but you were too weak and every movement sent fire across your back and whimpers along your hoarse throat.

“Don’t try to move, baby.” Bucky begged as he held you carefully, avoiding the burns on your shoulder.

“He thought you killed Axel.” You whispered through the lump in your throat.

“I wanted to.”

“I know, but you didn’t.” You said as you blinked slower and slower, the promise of pain free sleep enticing you with its darkness and you were ready to give in. “You’re too good.”

━━━━━━♡♥♡━━━━━━

Click here for next part.

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Wait now I want a part 2 of Family First or just how everyone else would react or even how Bucky told them he needed help in the first place like how do you explain that????

I hope this gives you some closure 😊 We may come back to the family in the near future and see how they are getting on with public life.

main masterlist || bucky masterlist || part one || part two || prequel blurb

Family First [Behind the scenes story]

Warnings: 18+ only, nsfw, mentions of dead bodies WC: 1.9k

“Sir, I believe someone is trying to bypass my mainframe.” Friday announced as she interrupted the weekly team meeting. “Correction, they have bypassed my mainframe.”

Tony leapt up from his seat at the head of the table and to the control panel of the door, every electrical system was connected to Friday so he double tapped the screen to extend it to full sized. His fingers danced furiously over the screen trying to find what the hackers were after and found the bug in the personal files of his team.

“Shit.” Tony sighed. “Friday, I’m putting you to sleep until I can remove the bug.”

“Manual override complete, goodnight Mr Stark.”

“I need everyone to call your families, get them here ASAP.” Tony ordered as he tossed a basket onto the table. “Until Friday’s clear, don't use your cell phones, hand them over guys. We are going old school. Where did I put those flip phones? Frid-oh.”

“Why do we have to call our family?” Clint asked. “What were they after?”

Tony sighed and gripped the back of his chair as he stood behind it. “They stole the details of your next of kin.”

Bucky’s chair screeched as he stood up abruptly and he looked at his cell phone ringing in the middle of the basket. “I need to take that.”

The restraint in his voice wasn’t missed by some of the team but Tony just shook his head. “Can’t let you do that.”

“You don’t understand.” He growled and Steve stood up to place a calming hand over his shoulder.

“Just give us a minute.” He said as he pulled Bucky away from the table to talk quietly in the corner. “It’s y/n isn’t it, on the file. I thought it was me.”

“It was but she’s my wife, Steve.” Bucky sighed, his eyes flicking back to the phone that was lit up with another call. “And now I might have put her in danger. I need to answer that call.”

“Ok, how about I grab Sam and we go and pick up the girls together, get them somewhere safe.” Steve planned and clapped his best bud on the shoulder.

The plan was set but the second his phone rang with a ringtone, the phone number saved to override silent mode, he lost all thoughts of everything except saving you. Steve tried to block him from reaching the basket on the table but Bucky threw him to the floor and jumped across the table, grabbing the phone and putting it to his head instantly.

“Are you okay?” He rushed as he turned his back on everyone else but the silent room left most of the team able to hear you too.

“Bucky, someone’s here.” His gut clenched at the panic he could hear in your voice, how you sounded when you were being brave and putting on a smile when you were really holding back tears.

“I need you and Sarah to go down to the basement. Lock yourself inside and don’t come out for anyone but me, Steve or Sam.” He said as calmly as he could while he left the room, ignoring the stares he was getting from his team as he sprinted his way to the hangar.

“What’s going on baby?”

“Someone hacked us, they stole almost every piece of information on each of us.” He admitted as he lashed out punching his fist into the hangar wall beside him. “I’m so fucking sorry, I think they know about you, about Sarah.”

The line went silent for a moment and his hand trembled as he looked to make sure the call was still connected. “We are going to go treasure hunting downstairs ok sweetie.”

“That’s not daddy is it?” Sarah’s quiet voice was just picked up by the microphone and he almost crushed the phone as he heard his baby girl’s scream, swearing he would kill everyone that stepped foot in his house.

“Daddy’s coming, Sarah.” He promised as the line began to crackle, knowing they were almost in the basement where it was safe but no cell signal. “I love you both so much. I’m on my way.”

“We love - too.”

The screen of his phone cracked as his fist held it too tight waiting for the hangar doors to open and the rest of his team caught up except Steve who had stuck by his side.

“You have a family.” Natasha stated as she followed him through the narrow gap of the hangar door and towards the quinjet. “And Sam and Steve know.”

“Yes.” He growled and turned to see the others looking at him expectantly. “Can we not do this now?”

“On board, now.” Tony ordered as he pointed to the jet. “You can explain on the way.”

Everyone strapped into the seats except the super soldiers who stood at the top of the ramp, ready to dive out the second they were close enough.

“We need an address.” Natasha said as the quinjet was ready for take off.

Bucky strode over to the panel and entered his home address, set in the countryside where he foolishly thought it would be away from the drama and threat.

“Hmm, pictured you for the suburban Brooklyn type.” She commented as her and Clint piloted the jet towards the address. “Three minutes ETA.”

“Get talking.” Tony said as he crossed his arms.

“Leave it Tony, it can wait until after.” Steve asserted, his own arms crossing as tensions rose.

“I want to know who I am saving.” He countered.

“What does it matter, saving people is what we do.”

“She’s my wife, y/n, and Sarah’s our daughter.” Bucky confessed, not wanting another fight in the team over him. “We met in Bucharest.”

“When you were still Hydra. Is she Hydra? Is that why you kept her a secret?” Tony asked, stepping closer with every accusation and Steve just caught Bucky before he could attack.

“She’s not fucking Hydra!” Bucky growled as he pushed Steve away. “She has nothing to do with any of this, that is why I kept her and Sarah secret. I thought they would be safe.”

Bucky saw his house coming up ahead and hit the button to release the ramp. He had either explained enough that the team would help him or he was going in alone, but nothing was going to stop him getting to you. Steve stepped up beside him and watched the familiar land pass by beneath them.

“You don’t have to get in the middle of things again, I can handle Tony on my own.” Bucky said.

“I’m with you till the end of the line pal.”

“Need a lift?” Sam asked as he stepped up beside them and grabbed the back of their clothes. “Or do you want to face dive again?”

“Let’s go.” Steve nodded and the three of them jumped off the ramp.

“I have some bad news.” He murmured quietly as he ran his hand up and down your arm and kissed your forehead.

“You got blood on the carpet.” You tried to joke but your voice failed to hold any humour.

“That too.” He said, the ghost of a smile tipping up at your attempt. “There’s some more people I want you to meet.”

“Who else came with you?” You asked, worried about even more people knowing but grateful for their help nonetheless. You watched him chew his lip and knew it was bad before he even answered.

“Everyone.”

You took a deep breath and nodded as you realised there was no escaping this and maybe, just maybe, it might be a good thing. Your finger brushed over his cheek and cleared the speck of someone's blood that had landed there and you sighed as he captured your lips, all the fear and doubt evaporating with it.

“I don’t know what I would have done…” he whispered as he took in every beautiful feature he loved about you before doing the same to his daughter who had cried herself to sleep in his arms.

“You don’t have to think about it baby, you made it in time, you saved us.” You said softly as you cradled his face.

“Oh sorry.” Steve came to a halt as he saw the three of you curled up on the floor. “I just wanted to make sure you found them.”

“Can you take Sarah?” Bucky asked as he gently shifted his sleeping daughter.

Steve hooked his shield onto his back and lifted her up easily and you were grateful she was sleeping for this next part. You didn’t want her seeing the bodies that littered your house as you walked through, even you felt your stomach turning as you spotted the first one at the base of the stairs.

“Oh god.” You gasped as you saw his lifeless eyes and spun away, burying your face in Bucky’s chest.

“Close your eyes, doll.” He soothed as his hands gripped your hips and he picked you up, your legs wrapping around his waist as you screwed your eyes shut and focused on listening to his soft murmurs in your ear. “You can open them now.”

You blinked as the bright afternoon sun blinded you and it was hard to imagine that it could still be a beautiful day despite the horror that lay only yards away inside your house, the weather had no right to be so perfect. Your feet touched down on solid ground and you could see half a dozen shadows before you even turned in Bucky’s arms. You knew who each of them were, just because you were a secret in their lives, Bucky never kept anything secret when he got home. You had heard gossip and stories about every one of them and it felt like you should already be friends, but they didn’t know you.

“Hi.” You offered a small wave with your greeting and you looked at Steve with Sarah curled up in his arms. “Thank you for saving us.”

“It’s no problem.” Tony smiled and shrugged as Steve and Bucky looked at him, rolling his eyes as Bucky’s stare lingered longer. “What?”

“Ignore him, we do.” Nat grinned as she stepped forward and held her hand out to shake. “It’s nice to meet you.”

“You too. I’ve heard so much about you.”

She gave a little laugh as she let your hand drop. “Can say the same, but we will change that now, won’t we?”

You weren’t quite sure where you stood with her, the politeness came with an edge of passive aggressiveness. Thankfully Sam stepped in and pulled you into a hug.

“Forget her, she’s just upset that she was the last to find out.” Sam joked. “I’m glad you’re all okay.”

“Thanks to you.” You said as you looked around the group. “I would offer you something to eat but…I think we are going to be renovating.”

“You’re welcome to stay at the Compound in the meantime. There’s plenty of room. And, then you can tell us your real secret.” You frowned at Tony as he pulled his sunglasses out of his pocket and popped them on his face, feeling Bucky stiffen behind you. “How have you put up with Bucky all this time? No seriously, I need to know.”

“That’s something we all need to know.” Sam laughed and the tension disappeared so fast you thought you imagined it.

You bit your lip as you tried not to laugh. “I could tell you, but then I’d have to kill you.”

Prequel Blurb

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I am so weak for bucky that I would have stayed either way

And this was fucking hot

Hello lovely person I just got my period so I’m depressed !

Let’s make me even more depressed with this prompt please

“ you know, if you’re trying to make me feel guilty, you’ve succeeded.” With my lovely babe bucky please and also can the reader be the one to say it (I don’t know if this sentence made sense but let’s ignore it )

Uhhh Mother Nature strikes again! May you be blessed with heat packs, sleep and snacks <3

|| main masterlist || bucky masterlist ||

Love 'em and leave 'em || Bucky

Warnings: 18+ only, sparring/fights, rough blowjob, roughish sex, slight degradation, unprotected sex WC: 1278

First rule: don’t get attached Second rule: reread first rule Third rule: leave when you get attached

Those were the rules you lived by and the rules you would die by, after all, you can’t get your heart broken if you never let anyone into it.

“Look at that, Barnes.” You smirked as he was thrown to the ground once again by Steve, the sweat from his face leaving a streak of shine across the vinyl mat flooring. “I didn’t realise you were the janitor.”

“Do you really have to antagonise him?” Steve huffed as he caught his friend around the waist and stopped him from making his way over to you. “You two need to sort this rivalry out.”

“There is no rivalry, he’s not even in the same league as me.” Your flippant attitude pissed the soldier off even more but he was so easy to wind up it was impossible to resist.

“Let go of me.” Bucky growled as he tore himself from Steve’s arms and left the gym, leaving you with the deeply disappointed Captain.

“Oh, don’t give me that patronising look.” You rolled your eyes and bumped his shoulder. “You’re the one who used his face for a mop.”

“Please, y/n, just go and apologise.”

“Fine, but if you hear us going at it, don’t you dare try to intervene.” You warned. “He could do with a little smackdown. You never told me he would have as big an attitude as me.”

“No one comes close to you.” Steve laughed and began to pick up the training mats. “Just don’t destroy the whole floor this time.”

Your lips curled up in a dark smile as you remembered the last round with Barnes. “No promises, Cap.”

The air was crushed from your chest the second you entered Bucky’s room, your back being shoved roughly against the wall. “What took you so long?” He growled as his mouth attacked your neck, teeth grazing the sensitive skin.

“Sowing seeds in the old Captain's head.” You answered with a moan as his hand slipped beneath the waistband of your leggings and over your mound. “Can’t have him finding out the truth can we.”

Your hands were tearing his shirt over his head and his lips lost contact with yours for a second before you crashed back together, gentleness wasn’t in your nature or his. His vibranium hand took your wrists and pinned them above your head, your strength nothing compared to the advanced weapon he had been armed with, literally.

“Such a fucking drama queen.” He growled as his warm fingers teased your wet slit, two thick digits slipping inside.

“You seem to enjoy the act well enough.” You teased as you rolled your hips into his touch and moaned as he reached the sweet spot.

“Enough talking, on your knees.”

He let go of your wrists and you dropped to your knees, pulling his pants down as you went and freeing his thick cock from his boxers. Your mouth was watering as you gripped his shaft tightly and rolled your wrist, licking the bead of cum that was already pooling at the slit. His hands planted against the wall and his hips pushed forward, pushing his cock past your lips and you opened your mouth wider to take him.

You hummed at his musky taste filling your mouth and relaxed your throat before his large hand covered your head and held you still so he could fuck your face. Your throat convulsed at the assault and your pussy throbbed with every thrust he dealt you, your spit running down your chin.

“Fuck, can’t mouth off now can you.” He grunted as your nails dug into the tense muscles of his thighs.

Your hand slid up until it cupped his balls, a small squeeze earning a deep moan but also warning him that you were still in control despite what he thought. All too soon he was pushing deeper than you could breathe, your eyes watering, and you pushed him back to gasp fresh air in your lungs. There wasn’t any time to recover before he hooked his hand under your arms and pulled you to your feet, needing to feel you wrapped around his cock.

You were already pushing your leggings and panties down over your hips and kicking them off as you pushed him back towards his bed, his knees hitting the edge and sending him falling on his back. It was your turn to pin his hands above his head as you climbed on his lap and impaled yourself down his length with a satisfied sigh, rolling your hips and taking your pleasure from him. His eyelids were hooded as he bent his knees and thrust up into you, your head tipping back with a cry as he bumped your cervix.

“God, I hate you so much.” You moaned as he tore his hand from your grip and pressed his thumb to your clit. “But you fuck so good.”

“That right, doll?” He chuckled. “I don’t think you hate me at all.”

“Just shut up and fuck me, Barnes.”

His smirk grew before he flipped you over and bent your knees to your chest. Your head was spinning from the short breaths you were forced to take in the position he put you in and you knew you would have bruises from the tight grip he had on your thighs. You loved the marks he left but you were also very wary of where he left them, not wanting the team to know the two of you were fucking.

“Look at that pretty pussy.” He said with a lick of his lips as he watched his cock disappearing at your entrance. “Taking my cock so well.”

You cried out as he added a finger to your cunt and felt the burning stretch before he pulled it and ran the juices he had gathered over your clit, teasing and swirling it as your legs began to tremble. Heat flashed over your body as your orgasm built, your walls fluttering around him and tightening with every long stroke.

“Don’t stop, oh please, don’t stop.” You begged as your body hung suspended by invisible strings, Bucky the puppetmaster.

His own pace faltered as he felt your muscles clamp down and those invisible strings were cut, limbs losing all ability to function as waves of pleasure wracked your body. Unable to hold back as your pussy gripped and massaged him, he came with a deep moan of his own and let your legs fall around him as he twitched inside your deliciously aching cunt. He wasn’t in any rush to pull out as your aftershocks sent ripples up cock and soft moans from his mouth in his sensitive state of bliss.

Pushing him off you, you brushed away his hand that tried to curl around your waist. “Stay the night, doll, no one is going to give a shit. We’re both consenting adults.”

“You know that’s not how I roll. I have rules for a reason.”

“Fuck the rules, we could wake up like this everyday, sex every morning, in the shower.” His promises sounded good but you reminded yourself of the first rule. “Guess you really are just using me like every other woman has.”

“You know, if you’re trying to make me feel guilty, you’ve succeeded.” You said as you pulled your panties up your legs.

“So stay.” He said as he opened his blankets for you.

“Sorry, Barnes, rules are rules.”

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Omg you mothers are amazing !!!

I really cannot understand how you manage to do so much !! 😭

I’m sending you all the love ❤️ !! And good luck for everything!

And it blows my mind how you can write such good fics while having so little time ! YOU ARE AMAZING 🤩

Blessing you with these two fine ass men because I haven’t been able to interact with you today and I missed you 🥺❤️

I miss you too!!! Work is kicking my ass today and I haven’t had a second to write anything 😢

I’m just going to spend my break drooling over these handsome men 🤤🤤🤤 ahhhh I need to watch season 6 so I can remember how sexy Tommy is!

Ps: I got your request and I am happy to write it babe ❤️❤️

To Love the Enemy

Imagine catching the eye of Klaus Mikaelson.

Tagging: @midnightseance​ Author’s Note: So I finally convinced my sister to watch TVD and I’ve been rewatching some episodes with her- specifically the episodes that had the best Klaroline and some of the saddest scenes. This idea spawned from the reawakening of my intense dislike for vampire!Elena. Whoops. Sorry Elena lovers, I don’t think this one will be for you. It’s not total Elena bashing, but I’m not exactly her biggest fan. Warning: Don’t pay too close attention to the order some events are mentioned. I forgot some things and what not. Lmao. 

Keep reading

Fuck this is so good !!!

Sweeter than Sugar

Summary: She broke his heart but you're not going to let her win. Bucky deserves the best and you're going to give it to him.

Pairing: Chubby Baker!Bucky x Reader, mentions of former relationship with OFC.

Word Count: 4K

Warnings: Smut, Oral (fem receiving), body shaming by OFC, language, mentions of insecurities. painful break up (not reader) bit angst, fluff. As always 18+ only.

A/N: Do not copy, rewrite, repost or translate my works. Comments and reblogs are welcomed. Beta'd by the lovely @deann and @makbarnes but all mistakes are my own.

A/N II: @star-spangled-bingo 2021 Squared filled: Curtain fic and @gotnofucks Body positivity challenge

"Wait till you try this. I think this is my best batch yet." Bucky promises as he pulls the tray out of the oven with his vibranium hand.

You cringe for a second before remembering that he can handle the heat.

You stretch, looking around the large bright kitchen. A fresh breeze floats through the open window carrying in notes of rain and freshly cut grass and the faint sounds of the neighbor's kids playing with their dogs.

Leaning back in your seat, you turn your gaze back to him, a faint smile on your lips as he blows on the pastries, cute little puffs he named after you.

His blue eyes shine under the soft yellow lights, an apron under the swell of his pudgy belly. He looks incredible, wearing only a pair of black boxers that stretch across the curves of his ass. His hair is pulled back into a small bun at the nape of his neck, and there's always something smeared across his cheek.

Yesterday, it had been red velvet frosting, and today, cherry.

Bucky scoops a puff on to a small white plate, grabbing a fork from the drawer. He beams, his entire face radiant as he walks towards you.

That's the look that makes your stomach twist and leaves you feeling dizzy.

Dating Bucky has been a dream. He's loving, kind and he looks at you with such love that you lose your breath just thinking about him.

According to him, you've improved his life in several ways; he swears his food tastes better now, that you somehow make his cakes perfect, his frostings sweeter, and well, he can’t look at a peach without grinning like a drunk-in-love idiot.

You’ve spent many late mornings and lazy afternoons watching him patter around the kitchen, listening to him explain his baking processes while you lounge in a chair.

You don’t understand half of what he’s saying, but he speaks with such passion, his hands animatedly flying in the air as he talks about chocolates, melting points, and the differences in pans.

Bucky has discovered early on that he loves to watch you eat. To be more specific, if it's his food. Only his food, if he’s being honest. He gets so nervous every time that his stomach plummets because he wants to make things for you.

Give you so many things.

Starting with your own custom-made pastry.

“Here, Peach, it just melts on your tongue,” his deep voice lowering to a near moan.

He slips the pastry into your open mouth, his thumb grazing over your bottom lip as you swallow. Oh, your eyes almost roll back in your head when the flavors explode on your taste buds. You’ve never tasted anything that wonderful.

“Oh my god, Bucky,” you gasp, leaning forward for more. “I-that’s so good! Can I have another?”

He grins, lopsided and wide, his heart thundering so hard it feels like it might fly out of his chest. Bucky will give you pastries as much as you want if you keep looking at him like that. He puts his all into his baking and the fact that you enjoy it makes him feel as if he can walk on air.

Bucky kisses your forehead as you chew, pushing away from the table, he slides on his sock-covered feet to the fridge. “What do you want to drink?”

“What do we have?” You giggle as he dances in front of the fridge, calling out options for you.

It’s hard to believe that the carefree man in front of you is the same one that was ashamed to remove his shirt a few weeks ago.

Bucky holds your hands at your sides, fingers laced between yours as he feasts between your thighs. He promised to make you come for him at least three times and you swear it’s been double that by now. His warm, wet tongue flicking over your swollen, sensitive clit over and over, sucking and pulling it into his mouth like he can’t get enough of you.

You moan incoherently, voice hoarse from begging and mewling, your legs limp around his broad shoulders. “Buc-Bucky, oh right there, Bucky,” you plead, feeling pressure build in your belly as his tongue traces patterns over you.

Bucky grinned, his face covered in your slick. He can’t remember the last time he had a better meal in his life. “That’s my girl, so sweet, need one more taste, just a little more,” he whispers before his lips wrap around your clit again. Your mouth falls open in a wordless scream, back arching off the bed when he gently shakes his head, sucking so hard that you see stars.

Bucky groans actually groans deep and vulgar when you cum,and you feel it as your body explodes, waves of pleasure surging through you until you’re gushing on his beard. He eases up, nuzzling into your puffy folds as you come down from your high. Bucky looks up, his dark slate-blue eyes taking in your heaving chest, a bead of sweat rolling down your belly.

“One more?” he says hopefully, wanting to dive back into your pussy.

Your eyes widen as you frantically shake your head. “No. Oh no. Bucky, I can’t, I really can’t, I’m not sure I can handle any more.” You laugh breathlessly, tugging one of your hands free from his tight grip. You rake your fingers through his hair, smiling down at him. "Besides, I’ve been dreaming about you fucking me until I can’t walk.”

A faint blush sweeps across his cheeks as he averts his eyes. “Peach,” he mumbles shyly like he just didn’t spend the past hour worshiping your pussy with his mouth.

Bucky stands up, wiping a hand down his face. He stares at his glistening palm for a second, and then his pink tongue darts out, swiping across the wet surface. You wonder if he’s aware that he's moaning, your pussy throbbing at the guttural sounds.

“You’re filthy,” you jest when he does it again. His face gets even redder as he sucks on his finger.

“You taste better than my pies,” he retorts. “I could eat you all day, every day.”

“Tomorrow, for sure, but right now I want you inside me.”

His smile drops a little when you tell him to get undressed. He’s been dreading this moment, doing everything he can to avoid it. You scoot back on the bed, reaching out for him. Bucky looks down at his body, at his belly, his eyes narrowing, he scratches the back of his neck, telling himself he can do this.

He lifts the edge of his navy blue Henley, freezing when he hears her voice in his head. “Who would want a fatty? No one is going to love you looking like that.” Even now it stings thinking about her. Bucky glances over at you, his heartbreaking at the thought of you rejecting him.

Bucky drops his shirt and reaches for the lamp. “One second.” He says. An unmistakable hint of sadness in his voice has you sitting up. He’s never sounded like that before.

You tilt your head to the side, searching his face. “Bucky, what’s wrong?”

“Just gonna turn the lights off first.” The corner of his lips lifts in a weak, watery smile.

You move to your knees and grab his large hand before he can switch them off. “Why?”

Bucky swallows, “no reason, just like the lights off, 'is all.”

Bucky’s admittedly good at a lot of things, but lying isn’t one of them. He briefly meets your gentle gaze, worry and fear swimming in his beautiful clear blue eyes.

Placing your hands on his chest, you grab his chin. “Bucky, look at me.” He immediately follows your soft command. “What’s wrong? Did I do something?”

Bucky blinks, shaking his head, almost confused at the thought that you could do anything wrong. “No, no, you’re perfect! It’s me. I don’t wanna disappoint you.” His voice tapers off in a whisper, hearing her sharp laughter the last night they were together. “I know I’m fat, so it would be better if we turned off the lights, that way you don’t have to look at me. “

You stare at your generous, doting boyfriend. “Why wouldn’t I want to look at you?,” you question, befuddled because who on earth would jump at the chance to see a naked Bucky Barnes.

He shrugs a shoulder, his somber eyes drifting down. He grabs his belly and jiggles it. Another shrug followed by a quiet, “I look different with my clothes off.”

You crane your head back, “I love your belly, it’s perfect. Who made you feel like you have to hide it?”

Bucky sighs, rubbing his cheek into your palm. “My ex, Moxie- “

Bucky dated her two years ago. She latched on to him when he and Steve bought the bakery, wanting to be the girlfriend of the rising baking star.

Bucky slowly gained weight as he sampled his baking and designed dessert menus for local restaurants, his joy for baking expanding each day, finally getting to see his dreams become reality.

He hadn’t noticed the changes in his body until one night Moxie cruelly pointed them out.

He was getting ready for bed, eager to be with his girl after a full day of running around. He had been telling her about how another restaurant wanted his input, so excited to share his news that he didn’t notice the way she glared at him.

Tossing his shirt in the hamper, he turned to her and smiled, his hands on his belt. “I’ve been thinking about you all day baby, I can’t- “

Moxie sneered at him, pretending to gag. “Are you serious?”

Bucky’s brows furrowed. “Um, what?”

“Um, what,” she mocked, pulling the blanket up to her chest. There's a pause, tension seeping into the room. “You know what, I have to say it, I can't take this anymore James. Look at you and look at me, why the fuck would I let you touch me anymore?”

Moxie sighed, “can you put on your shirt back on or something because that- “she gestured at him “-is disgusting” She let out an irritated groan when he flinched at her words.

A punch to the gut would have hurt less. Bucky felt his heart split. “Moxie,” he whispered, unable to find words to express the pain currently ripping through him.

“Look, I didn’t sign up for this, you were in shape when we got together, what the hell happened to you? Why do you think I stopped letting you touch me.” She ranted, ignoring his soft pleas for her to stop.

“Either lose the weight or I’ll fuck Steve, at least he still looks good.” She rubbed her eyes with the back of her hand, yawning, “can you go somewhere else, I don’t want you accidentally rolling over me and squishing me in your sleep.”

His mouth floundered open, but he couldn’t speak. It all hurt too much, and he felt like he couldn’t breathe, the air was too thick and his chest grew tighter with each breath; he needed to get away, terrified of what might happen if he cried in front of her.

Bucky shuffled out the room, his heart shattering with every step. He thought she was happy, that he made her happy. Her laughter following him out to the hallway made his head droop even more.

What did he do wrong?

He spent the night on the couch, staring at his old pictures through tear-filled eyes, Bucky always had a little fullness to him, but he was always happy with his body. And he had been having so much fun with the grand opening and all the new opportunities that he never noticed that he stopped needing belts and his shirts were a little snug over his belly.

Bucky called Steve, his best friend fuming when he told him what happened. By the time he was done speaking with him, Bucky felt a little better, his heart may have been in pieces but he knew what he needed to do.

He kicked her out the next morning.

Much to Moxie’s surprise and Bucky's. He may be chubby but he's not going to be her pushover either.

Bucky ignored her apologies and said she had to go. It shocked her when Steve had shown up with a roll of garbage bags, tossing them at her feet with a sharp quip that he doesn’t fuck losers. Both men stood side by side, watching silently as she packed her belongings.

The only things she left behind were his broken heart and a few nagging insecurities that plagued him.

He finishes, his broad shoulders slumped under the weight of his confession, you want nothing more than to stamp out the sadness marring his beautiful eyes.

“I thought she loved me but--“ he sighs, “--I don’t want you to look at me the way she did, I love you too much, Peach, and I know I should probably lose a few -”

You’ve never been angrier in your life. You want to punch little Ms. Moxie in her throat, she better hope she never runs into you because they will have to pry you off of her.

Clearing your head, you clasp his face in your hands and pull him down for a kiss. “Bucky Barnes, you are the sweetest man I know, you’re beautiful and I love everything about you.”

You silence his objections with another kiss. “I mean it Bucky, I love all of you. You don’t need to change anything.”

Bucky swallows the small protest, letting himself relax. You’re not her, you won’t hurt him. Placing a kiss on his soft, round belly, you murmur, “you have no idea how sexy you are, honey.”

You stand on the bed, holding on to his bicep for balance, and tug his shirt off. Looking down at him, you bite your lip. He’s ridiculously handsome and you’re going to prove it to him.

You pepper kisses along the curve of his neck as you sink back down, praising him and telling him how much you love him, describing in vivid detail how each part of his body is perfect.

His confidence and love for you growing with each word. By the time you reach the band of his boxers, he panting, his eyes darkening with an almost feral need to possess you.

Bucky tears off the last barrier keeping you from him and he pounces. You giggle as he pushes you into the soft blankets, the solid, comforting weight of his body encompassing you as he kisses you with such passion you forget to breathe. His warm lips melding into yours, his wet tongue dipping into your mouth, the taste of you still lingering on his tongue as it dips into your mouth.

Bucky reaches down with one hand, grabbing his cock, his other hand cupping the back of your head as he deepens the kiss. He breaks the kiss, resting his forehead on yours so he can gaze into your eyes. Bucky watches your mouth fall open, a gasp pouring out when he guides his thick cock into you.

He rolls his hips, moving deeper into your wet, hot heat. “That’s it Peach, you’re so good,” He brushes his lips across yours, swallowing your oh Bucky as he stretches your tight pussy around him. The slight burn gives aways to pure bliss, you circle your hips after a minute. A quiet I’m ready breathed into his mouth.

Bucky thrusts languidly into your pussy, each deliberate slow drag of his throbbing cock against your soft walls sends bursts of pleasure up your belly and down your spine. His lovemaking tender, yet so possessive that your head is reeling.

He makes sure that you feel all of him, each inch as you clench down, greedy for more of him, even as he goes deeper and deeper, his soft lips caressing your neck. His body keeping you pinned, so you have to take everything he’s giving you.

That pressure builds again, heavy and hot in your belly, digging your heels into the top of his thighs, you meet his strokes, pleading with him to please move a little faster, you need it so bad.

You don’t have to beg; he wants you to cum for him; he wants to feel your sweet pussy flutter around him as you cry out his name.

Bucky sucks a bruise on your throat, his hips pounding into yours. The headboard smacking against the wall with each powerful thrust. The dull thuds drowned out by your loud moans, the pressure getting more intense.

“Bucky,—” you cry out, scratching his lower back when he grinds his hips down, “—oh fuck, do that, do that again,” you frantically chant, slapping your hands on his ass, keening when he does, god yes, he does it just right, hitting a tender spot inside your cunt so hard that you bite down on his shoulder to keep from screaming.

“That it Peach, is that what you need.” He slips a hand between your bodies, his wide fingers circling your clit, “Go on, cum for me, give it to me Peach, be my good girl, and cum for me.”

You do, your walls clenching down as the pressure snaps, sensations firing off as your orgasms winds through you. Bucky’s pace falters, becomes erratic when he feels you milking his cock, unable to hold himself back any longer he lets himself go, relishing in your warmth until he spills inside you.

He tries to roll off of you, but you wrap your arms around him, murmuring for him to stay for a minute. You smooth your hands over his slick back, Bucky relaxes on top of you, grinning at your contented sigh. “I love you Peach.”

“Love you too,” you respond, plotting all the ways you’re going to let him know how much he means to you.

After that night, you began to praise Bucky, complimenting his body every chance you got, smacking his ass whenever he walked past you, hugging and kissing him.

The first couple of weeks, he would hide his face behind one of his large hands and his cheeks would resemble one of his bright red apples. “Peach, you don’t have to, I mean I’m-” he would stammer each time, always tucking his hair behind his ears.

It took you three days to figure out that he has a praise kink and you amped it. He barely opened his eyes before you were saying something that made him hide his face behind his pillow, laughing when you wiggled under it to tell him how good he looks when he smiles.

While you loved making him blush, you cherished how confident he became. And you reaped the benefits, one second he was a bashful baker with buttercream frosting on his forehead, the next he was bending you over his counter, railing you so good you couldn’t even scream his name.

After a while, he stopped avoiding the bathroom mirror in the mornings. And you couldn’t wipe the grin off your face, the first time you saw him cooking, shirtless, in the kitchen. He turned when he heard your footsteps, his face turning that familiar shade of red as you openly gawked.

“C’mon Peach, don’t you start-” he playfully grumbles, his lip twitching as he held in his smile, he moved back to the frying pan turning off the stove as he braces himself.

You squeal, flinging yourself at him, peppering his back with kisses. You couldn’t contain the litany of praises on your tongue, so proud of him. Bucky twisted in your grasp, cupping your face in his hands. “God I love you Peach.”

Bucky and Steve are celebrating the grand opening of another bakery. The largest one to date. The new building is full of investors, press, other bakers and chefs, a live band playing in the corner, drinks, and food everywhere, and of course the tower of desserts in the middle of the room. The atmosphere light and airy, glasses clinking, people dancing and every kind of cake, pies, and pastry imaginable on silver platters through the room.

You’ve never had so much fun, although a slightly buzzed Bucky is having an even better time because you’re wearing one of his favorite dresses. You remember when he first saw you in it, you twirled out of the dressing room and he nearly lost it in the middle of the store.

The more he celebrates, the more he’s giving you that look. Steve has to keep interfering, he’s close to going feral in front of all his guests.

Steve sent him to the kitchen after he caught him trying to put his hand between your thighs. You’re laughing as a contrite Bucky gets up from the table to refill the rapidly diminishing display.

“You know I’ve known Buck my whole life and I’ve never seen him this happy.” Steve remarks as he takes a seat across from you. His warm blue eyes glistening. “Thank you for that. He’s been through a lot and you’re the best thing that happened to him.”

Your cheeks get heated at his words. Steve leans forward, holding your hand between his. “I mean it, even though he’s getting on my last nerve talking about you.“

Steve squeezes your hand as he looks up at the ceiling for a second. “God, the man never shuts up, and I’m this close to strangling him if he compares you to another peach, but I love-“

He cuts off, his head jerks back so fast, you think something struck him. “What the fuck is she doing here?”

You turn around in your chair, searching the crowded room. “Who are you talking about?”

“Moxie,” Steve spits out, his hand curling into a fist. “White dress by the bar.”

You find her flirting with one of the investors. Moxie puts her hand on his chest, her shrill laugh cutting through the surrounding conversations. Whatever she tried fails spectacularly. The tall, sturdy blonde grimaces and walks away. You would almost feel bad if you didn’t want to slam her face into the wall.

She spots Steve and waves, making her way through the crowd. “Hey, long time no see.”

Steve raises a brow, his eyes hardening. “Why are you here?”

She laughs, patting his shoulder. “I’m here to apologize to Bucky, I know he misses me, he must be lonely.”

“Really?” you question, keeping your voice light and even.

Moxie dismissively glances at you before returning her attention to Steve. You chuckle under your breath, tapping your heel on the floor.

Don’t ruin your man’s event. Don’t ruin your mans’ event. You repeat the thought as you inhale through your nose.

“So I heard you two are doing really well.” She says, her manicured nails roaming over Steve’s suit. “Really well.”

Steve flicks her fingers off him, “We are. No Bucky’s not lonely. He doesn’t miss you. He’s very happy. With her.”

Moxie’s polite veneer cracks when Steve points at you. Waving your fingers at her, you grin at her. “You go near my Bucky and I’ll rip that cheap necklace off and shove it down your throat.”

She turns to Steve, gesturing to you as if she's the innocent one here; he raises his glass, blowing a harsh breath through his lips. “Don’t look at me, I still don’t fuck losers, but I’ll call if you if that changes.”

You laugh in your empty glass when she sputters. She turns to you, hand on her hip. You slowly raise your eyes, returning her stare. Part of you wanting her to do something, so you can wipe the smirk off her overly painted face.

“Whatever, I don’t need this. Keep the fattie. I can find another rich loser like that.” She snaps her fingers, storming over to the bar. You blink a few times in disbelief. The audacity of this bitch, thinking that she can stay and mingle at his event.

You're debating if you should have her thrown out by one of the staff or if you should drag her out by her hair.

You look her up and down as you ponder your choices, pausing when you see the edge of a tag sticking out the back of her dress. Hmm, interesting. She must plan on returning it after tonight.

A devious smirk slowly takes over your face, you know exactly what you’re going to do to little Ms. Moxie.

You glance at Steve, picking up his wineglass. Steve shakes his head while grabbing your hand. “Hey hey, I know what you’re thinking, and no.”

Before you can say anything, he’s pouring more burgundy wine into the glass until it’s nearly sloshing over the sides. “If you’re going do it, you gotta do it right.”

You exchange knowing glances. No one hurts Bucky. You saunter over to her, keeping your hand steady, not wanting to lose a single drop on the floor.

“Hey Moxie,” you call out. She turns around and you ‘trip’ over your heels, the deep red liquid flying forward in a perfect arch, splashing across her ivory dress, her face and you even got some in her hair.

“Oops, gosh, I am so clumsy,” you state, hiding your grin as she shrieks.

Steve jumps up, offering to help before she can swing at you. “I got you, darling.”

He places a hand on her back, quickly ushering her away “a little club soda will get that right out,” he reassures a pouting, whining Moxie.

He's lying through his teeth, that stain will never come out. Steve gets a peek at the price tag, almost laughing at the $899 imprinted on the card. He maintains his façade, leading her through the room, he stops, giving her a wide smile.

“And you can find some at the drugstore down the street.” He states, opening the front door and pushing her out. Her indignant shouts cut off when he slams the door in her face.

You throw your head back and cackle, startling some guests around the bar, you apologize for your outburst between fits of laughter, wiping the tears pricking at your eyes. You wave down the amused bartender, placing an order for you and Steve.

Steve joins you, raising his fresh glass of wine in a toast. “No one fucks with Bucky.”

"No one."

Neither you nor Steve realizes Bucky saw the whole thing. He ducks back into the kitchen, clutching the tray of Cannelés to his chest. For weeks after the breakup, he had rehearsed what he was going to say that next time he came face to face with Moxie.

But what you and Steve did was even better, the love of his life and his best friend always looking out for him.

Loving him unconditionally.

And just like that, the last traces of his insecurities vanished.

Later that night, you fall asleep with your head on his shoulder. He smiles at your hand on his belly. He places his large hand over yours, wondering how he got so lucky to have you.

And if Steve would kill him if he named another dessert after you.

He’ll risk it.

Dreams of Wolves and Light | Geralt x Assassin!reader

Description: When a misunderstanding leads to you having to fight a Witcher of all people, you encounter the last person on the continent you’d ever expected to.

Length: 3.5k

Trigger Warnings: fighting, blood, aggression, swearing?,

STARS’ MASTERLIST

MORE OF ‘THE ASSASSIN’S CREED AND THE WITCHER’S CUB' UNIVERSE

Note: I am heavily basing my character design/backstory off Assassin’s Creed lore so its abit of a cross over. I am in love with both of the games so I felt abit of a crossover would be interesting.

Your mother. That was all you could smell. It brought you a comfort you hadn’t known in decades, the sweet scent of her hair oils filling your senses like a soft kiss to your face; that was the first sign you were dreaming. Nothing in your real life was so gentle as this anymore.

“Mother,” You heard yourself ask, not in the adult tone you knew by now, the one rugged with the scars of growing up. No, this one was young, tiny. Innocent. You barely remember being this age. “What did the seer mean, that thing she said about my destiny?” You asked curiously. You couldn't have been older than five.

This was a memory, you were certain of it, though the edges were blurred with the mirage of sleep, marred with the curse of losing one's memory as a long time passes. It was so dark in this dream, the image of Mother all but a shadow. You felt your hands run through her long hair, the trellises as soft as ever. You knew she was dead, but this all felt so real.

A honeysuckle laugh met your ears, calm and liquid: “You shouldn’t worry about destiny just yet, sweet pea. It’ll make sense someday,”

Your voice, your real voice, called for her in your slumber. It was perhaps this loud noise or the rumble of speaking in your chest that started to wake you, but it didn’t stop you clinging to the dream that bit tighter.

“But what did she mean? I don’t understand, there’s no wolves around here, are there Mama?” You heard yourself questioning frantically.

She simply chuckled again, and you felt a soft stroke of a mother’s touch on your forehead, soothing your qualms about what the seer had predicted for your future.

“Hush, pea. Nothing bad will happen to you while I’m here.” She soothed. You felt the cold of the outside, the real world, calling you home as she began fading into the deepest part of your mind once more, “Now enough talk of light and wolves and other such nonsense. It’s time you slept, little one,”

And yet, in a horribly ironic turn, it was then that you awoke.

The feeling of the scratchy, cheap sheets of the bed grounded you, finally bringing you out of your solemn reminiscence of that day, along with the horrid realisation your feet were practically like ice under the thin duvet. Your eyes scanned the room for the culprit of your discomfort until your eyes snapped on it. The window was open, letting a biting cool breeze nip at your skin.

You sighed, sitting up from the bed with a groan of effort. Yesterday’s journey had been particularly exhausting and your muscles were paying the price for it.

You thought about your dream as you packed up your things to travel once more, and took a deep breath of sourness as you exited the tavern and began climbing up a nearby church steeple to survey your area closer. You took little notice to a few townsfolk below you gasping as you expertly scaled the tall tower, as if your hands were made of hooks. There was no trickery needed, you simply had years of practice. It’ll make sense someday, the soft voice reverberated around your head tauntingly, and you gave another bitter sigh.

Because your mother had lied. She had died, and yet you still had no clues to what the seer’s vision meant. It had taunted you for years since she had passed, each turn of the phrase in your head as riddling as the last. Her old croak of a voice had uttered such an illusion to you, one you would never forget as long as you would live until you found the answer you wanted.

Dear Child, she had said, The wolf and the pup will guide you to the light or drag you to the darkness.

Your eyes scanned the horizon for any sign of someone travelling through the woods, just as the target you were here to kill supposedly had been for the past three days.

Your brotherhood had informed you of a cloaked figure moving between towns in the area, said to be slaughtering villagers in the night like some human shaped grim reaper. But the villagers weren’t just chosen at random, they just so happened to be informants for your creed, those who had happily given you and your brotherhood information over the years about your targets.

You called them the Keepers. They were an order of knights and lords who managed to find themselves in high courts all across the continent, whispering in the ears of leaders to control the continent as they pleased, starting wars and slaughtering people at a flick of their wrist under the titles of advisors to the court. Your creed had been able to keep them at bay for the time being, but they were getting stronger, smarter, and now you were losing your key informants at the hands of your enemies.

So it was only logical that the brotherhood decided to send their best assassins out to hunt the killer. Or killers perhaps. You had your private suspicions that this was a much bigger plot than it seemed, that many malevolent leaders had their puppeteering fingers on the strings of these killers. They weren’t working alone.

There! Your eyes caught sight of a small flume of smoke coming from amidst the trees, around a two hours ride away from here. In all likelihood, it was nothing, yet if they were simply a traveller they may have some more information on where your newest target was.

So, the woods it was then, you decided.

“If only mother could see me now,” You almost laughed to yourself cynically at your words, checking the street below for a soft landing, your eyes narrowing on a deep enough pile of hay that would break your fall well, “So much for that destiny bullshit,”

And with that you leapt.

»»-----------►

Geralt watched Ciri contort in her sleep, frowning as he heard her mumbling empty threats to some unknown assailant. His heart went out to the cub, it really did, he just had no idea how he was supposed to defend her from figments of her own mind. Goblins and ghouls, he could handle, but Geralt knew more than the average man that the biggest threats we faced were often the darkest parts of ourselves only we could confront.

“Stay back,” The blonde girl whimpered, her legs thrashing on the woodland floor. Geralt minded how her boot got a little too close to the hot coals that was all that remained from their fire last night and decided he needed to wake her up for her own good. As if hearing his concerned thoughts, the Cintran girl’s eyes snapped open without prompt, taking in the bright new morning they had awoken to.

“Glad to see you’re awake,” Geralt started, packing the few items he had into his rucksack ready to load Roach up for another day of journeying towards Kaer Morhen, “How did ou sle-”

“Someone’s coming,” Ciri rushed, giving little explanation as she sat upright, disturbing the dry leaves around her small body. Geralt seemed to tense up in alert in synchrony with the worry in her voice.

“What do you mean? Where?” He asked sternly, golden eyes flicking between the trees frantically to see where the problem was.

“I don’t know, I just saw them in my dream,” Ciri frowned, her eyes trying to chase the source of her vision just as much as her protector’s were. “A man in a black cloak and a mask, he was reaching for me. I couldn’t get away,” Her voice wobbled with the trace of the fear she’d felt in her dream, knowing it was about to become a reality before her very eyes. Her visions always started like this.

Geralt sighed, looking at the younger girl’s startled frame. He had forgotten what children were like when they had convinced themselves the monsters in their head were real. He was so sure she was just on edge from her morbid sleep, “Ciri, I’m sure it was just a nightmare,” The older man tried to reassure her, but the girl had since hopped up to attention, her heart racing with fear.

“No! No, Geralt, it wasn’t like the black knight. It was different this time, you have to believe me! I saw him,” Ciri said fiercely, eyes flicking through the trees as more snippets of her dream started playing out before her until… “There! A rider!”

Geralt looked at where she was pointing, her expression somewhere between triumph and fear as she locked in on the man from her dream. His attuned senses caught up to him as the sound of fast approaching hooves met his ears, and he made out the figure of a dark cloak atop a grey horse, an omen of death if ever he’d seen one.

“Go stand behind Roach. Don’t reveal yourself until I tell you it’s safe to.” Geralt ordered, blindly following the girl’s intuition. He had no idea who this person was, but the accuracy of the Princess’s dream told him to trust her word nonetheless. She followed his command, standing behind his mare’s large, muscular legs and using the surrounding bushes as slight cover from whoever this man may be.

He drew his sword as the rider approached, lifting his own dark hood over his head and hiding behind a large tree in order to size up this mystery passenger.

Geralt heard Ciri’s heart pounding from her hiding place, rhythmically in time with the hooves of the approaching horse. He felt as if he were holding his own breath, waiting for the assailant to hopefully pass by with no qualms on their position, the sound of the footfall only getting louder in his sensitive ears. He didn’t doubt his skills necessarily, he knew he could protect Ciri from any regular foe, but his time with the Cintran girl had been nothing but a handful of surprises, even the gift of her herself. It unnerved him that she had seen this man approaching them; why him?

It struck him then what was odd about the approaching fiend. He couldn't hear a heartbeat.

There was something different about this enemy, he could feel it in his gut.

The rider slowed their horse down to a trot, then to a walk as they neared the camp he and the girl had slept at. He heard them dismount gently, their feet much lighter than expected as they closed in on his makeshift campsite.

He tried to listen for any other clues as to who the target was, but all he heard was a brief fumble of a hand on the forest floor as they felt around the dying fire, no doubt trying to gage from the heat in the soil how fresh or old the flame was. They were smart, skilled at tracking it seemed.

Geralt decided it was now a good time to confront the man in question. He couldn't risk him advancing on Ciri.

The white wolf rounded the tree, sword bared and ready for a fight.

Except there was no one there.

The horse they had rode on still stood obediently, so they hadn’t left, he would have heard if they had anyway. There were no tracks, the ones that remained seemed to have been swept away by the man’s long cape that Ciri had noted immediately.

They had just … vanished. Like a ghost or a flume of smoke simply fading into the air around them. No trace they were really ever there.

Geralt stood to attention, ears pricked like a wild animal on the prowl for its prey as he took in every minute movement around him. His head snapped to a small movement in the tree above him, only to see a small crow hopping between the branches innocently. Sure, that very well could be them considering some mages were well known to shapeshift, but Geralt’s eyes flickered around the perimeter unconvinced.

For a moment, there was just silence. Ciri’s heart pounding in his ears from her spot, Roach’s much slower heartbeat overlapping it. He was sure even he was holding his breath as he searched for any sign of the assailant.

And yet nothing.

He had but a millisecond to react as he heard a faint twig snap above his head before it was too late. A body - the body he had been searching for in fact - landed on his shoulders with a diligence he had only seen in professional killers. The unexpected force of a figure damn near knocked him to the floor, though luckily he was more than built enough in his legs to handle the weight. He did, however, drop his sword in shock, and was left grappling with the perpetrator with his bare hands.

The, who he now guessed was an assassin due to their expertise skill, wrapped his cloak hood over his face, effectively blinding him and suffocating him at the same time. He reached out for any part of their body he could grab hold of, satisfied when he felt the culprits waist, grabbing it with both hands and heaving them forward with a heavy buck towards the forest floor.

The assassin was flung to the floor, though they had the good sense to grab his cape in just the right place from around his neck to take him tumbling to the ground too. The figure kicked out a heavy boot into his stomach as he careered almost on top of them, and even his quick reflexes felt numbed as they skillfully pinned him to the ground. He felt a set of thighs wrap around his neck, arm yanked upwards towards a surprisingly well endowed chest, before they began to squeeze like a muscled constrictor around his neck.

Geralt groaned in effort as his throat began to pay the price for his opponent's quick work. Luckily, his eyes caught sight of a small blade in the side of the assassin’s boot, and he was smart to yank it out of its holder before his airways could be shut off. He plunged it into the figure's thigh, making them grunt shortly and loosen their grip on his neck. Just as he'd wanted, he grabbed the figure by the scruff of their own cape and threw them to the ground next to him.

The pair of them stood, Geralt only equipped with the assailant's own blade, as he watched the figure in question pull another two long knives out of their waist scabbards. He debated drawing one from his own boot that he knew lay hidden, but their smaller, more nimble stature told him his odds were against him at a knife fight. He was good with a sword, gods know he was good with a sword, but this assassin clearly operated with small, fast movements, something his brawny build worked against.

Instead, Geralt chose a smarter route. He moved his hands into the symbol of axii, pushing his hands forward to thrust the wind in their direction to knock them hard away from Ciri.

The white haired man felt his mouth drop open when the galeforce current he sent towards them was deflected by a cross of their wrists, as if they had bounced the wind off their being with the action.

Instead, the spell he had conjured was sent straight back at him, launching him backwards, further into the forest. His body dragged along the floor with the weight of the spell, ironically knocking the air out of his lungs in both force and shock at the action he had just witnessed.

What in the continent was that?

He barely registered the fact the movement had thrown him past Roach and Ciri, his mind racing to catch up with what had just happened, but he didn’t miss the young girl’s worried eyes following his falling figure, nor did he fail to see the way the assassin ran at him with their blades drawn.

Geralt barely had time to sit up to defend himself before the dark hooded figure had jumped at him, their weapon pressed against his throat oddly delicately. He could barely make out who was beneath the hood from the black sheath they wore over their mouth and nose, and the clothing was draped too far down to see any eyes. The figure looked like what he imagined the grim reaper to be, the omen from the stories he and his brothers used to tell each other before bed back when they were just young ones. The other hand brought the twin blade careering down towards his head, and Geralt prepared himself to take the stab to the hand when Ciri spoke up.

“NO! STOP!” The young cub yelled, revealing herself even though it had been clear from their new position that they were not at all alone.

Geralt watched the figure freeze for a moment. It seemed a shred of humanity gleamed through the assassin’s behaviour as they heard a mere child beg for mercy. Their head snapped towards where Cirilla stood, false bravery on her expression as she watched the figure look straight at her, their attention diverted away from the white wolf.

“Ciri?” The assassin said, though the voice was muffled from the mask and much higher pitched than Geralt had imagined.

It was then that the small frame, the voice, the quiet, nimble movement they held, it all wove together in Geralt’s mind.

It dawned on him that this assassin was in fact a woman.

A woman who had stupidly taken her eyes off him.

He knocked her clean off her feet as she stared at the princess for much longer than he felt comfortable with, her smaller body rolling clear out of the way of Ciri and Roach, dropping one of her knives in the process.

You groaned as you felt the effect of his hard punch land hard where your nose was, rattling your brain inside your head. It couldn’t be, surely you were seeing things. That couldn’t be the princess.

As your thoughts raced, you were unceremoniously picked up by the scruff of your neck like a pup in a litter. Your most obviously concealed weapons thrown to the ground next to you as the Goliath of a man handled you with revenge in his piercing golden eyes.

He ripped your hood down revealing your neatly braided hair and partially covered face, though you simply looked over his shoulder at the girl who had shouted for mercy.

You had to know if it was her. What on earth was she doing so far from Cintra? She had grown so much since you'd last seen her. Why was she with your target? Your heart plummeted as you feared the worse for your sweet girl: Had she been kidnapped by this man?

“Eyes on me,” He growled at you, watching as your gaze had ignored him and gone straight to his child surprise. “Now, who sent you?

Your head snapped back to him at the hostile mutter of his question, “Who sent me?" You snarled, "I should be asking you the same thing,”

Geralt huffed, bringing one of his large hands up to your throat as you kicked viciously against his brutish strength. “If you want to talk in riddles, I have no use for you,”

You prepared yourself to start wrestling against his grip when a figure appeared over the shoulder of the man, exactly the one you could have sworn blind you'd heard. Your eyes widened at the girl you had left all those years ago.

“Y/N?” Ciri asked cautiously, as if the mask that lay on your face deceived her. But the way you’d looked up at her had her curious, and she was so sure when she’d gotten a closer look at your cape and facial features, the years came back to her in waves of nostalgia.

Geralt’s head turned to the young cub who approached carefully, her grey fur coat dragging behind her slowly. He felt his hands loosen from around your throat as he saw the saddened glint in Ciri’s eyes, and something tinged with recognition as she said your name again. He put you down the minute he saw her reaching for you longingly, and the second your feet met the floor she had rushed forward to take you in by the waist, burying her head into the crook of your hood as if she was greeting a family member.

You hugged her back just as tenderly, pulling your black mask down to reveal quite a beautiful face indeed, bar the bruise that was quickly forming on your nose thanks to Geralt’s heavy hands. “Sweet girl, what on earth are you doing here?” You asked in a voice so soft he couldn’t believe you had been grappling to kill each other not five minutes earlier.

Geralt’s head swam with lost thoughts. How on earth had you escaped and left no tracks in the first place? How had you deflected his axii like that, he was so sure that was impossible, and more importantly, why was his child surprise holding onto you as if her life depended on it?

Nothing about you made sense, not one single piece of information and so Geralt, in his whirring mind had nothing else to say to you except: “Who the fuck are you?”

-----

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@greeneyedblondie44 @liadamerondjarin @pedrosgirlx @andy-rocks @musicarthayheminmyheart @howlerwolfmax @ciarra--mae

This was part 2 for my 500 follower celebration! I hope you enjoyed I lowkey hate it

This is so fucking good

Hey sweet Olivia 🥰 have you ever considered writing a Royal AU ? I love the idea of King Bucky and maybe maid or non Royal Reader ! Just thought that’s something you’d like ! Have a great day 💗

Sorry this took so long my lovely 💕

The Cost of Kindness || King!Bucky

Summary: An innocent interaction tears you from your reality and towards a marriage you didn't ask for or want. Warnings: 18+ only, soft!dark Bucky, fluff WC: 3.2k

Bucky’s Masterlist

“Excuse me, sir, you need to pay for that.” Your words were polite but your tone was cool as you caught the would-be thief's hand by the wrist. 

His face was mostly hidden by the cloak that wrapped around his shoulders, the hood only revealing a pair of oceanic eyes. The apple fell from his fingers and you caught it before it could land among the rest and bruise them, lowering the sale price even more. 

“The cost?” He asked quietly, a satiny voice that seemed too smooth for a man in a filthy, raggedy cloak filled with holes larger than your fist. 

His eyes fell to the fruit with longing and you felt sorry for him, looking over your shoulder to see your boss in a conversation with another market vendor. “A smile.”

He blinked slowly as he turned all his attention to you, his hood falling back a bit to reveal a pair of full, pink lips. “A smile?”

“You think it too much, sir?” You teased as you held the ruby red apple up.

“Hardly.” He chuckled, his lips curling into a smile that left your pulse racing and he leant in closer, his teeth biting into the apple in your hand. You were mesmerised by the way his jaw clenched with every chew until his adams apple bobbed with his swallow and you swallowed deeply in appreciation. “I would have been willing to part with a kiss.”

Your lips parted with a sharp intake of breath but before you could respond there was a commotion breaking out as soldiers entered the marketplace. A King’s guard marched towards your stall and you reeled back in fear as he raised his spear, only to stab it into the ground and salut. 

“Your Majesty,” the guard bowed, “it is the Queen Mother. She urgently requests your presence in the palace.”

The apple fell from your grasp, the pure flesh landing among the filth on the floor, much like the King entering the lowly marketplace. You fell to your knees in the mud and bowed your head as your eyes filled with fearful tears, begging for forgiveness and leniency for touching him - an act punishable by death. A warm finger curled beneath your chin and tipped your head back to see those bright eyes and you chided yourself for being so foolish. Eyes like that could belong to only one man, King James.

“Stand.” He beckoned as the pressure to your chin increased and you rose up as gracefully as you could.

“I’m sorry, your Majesty, I didn’t know it was you. Forgive me.” You whispered as the tears broke the line of your lashed defence, streaking over your cheeks to spill on his hand.

“You didn’t know it was me.” He nodded in agreement, his hand coming to rest on the silver and gold hilt of his sword. “Yet you were still offered your goods for a smile.”

“I did.” Your body trembled as you confessed and you closed your eyes while you waited for him to draw the sword and end your life with one fell swoop.

“Steven, bring the lady to the palace.”

You opened your eyes and saw the guard that had met the King look you over before nodding. A crowd was already gathering and you could hear their whispers spreading rumours as you took the guard's arm that he offered, wishing you could run in the opposite direction.

“He’s made a mistake, I’m no lady.” You pleaded with Steven as you watched the King shrug off his hooded cloak, revealing a fine suit beneath. “I’m just a farmer’s daughter.”

“Just stay calm, take a deep breath.” Steven said before you heard him whisper to himself. “They’re gonna eat you alive.”

You knew there was no point fighting but your pace slowed until Steven’s hold on you tightened and your sandals began to skid through the dirt. 

“Listen up, farmer’s daughter.” Steven growled beneath his helm as he turned his ice blue eyes down to you. “The King has given his order, now I am going to deliver you to the palace but it is up to you whether it is on your own two feet or not. I have no quarrels with tossing you over my shoulder if it makes my life easier.”

You sighed in defeat before grabbing your linen skirt and tugging it up so you could march faster towards Steven’s horse. The beast was huge and nothing like the old girl that slowly dragged the plough through the fields at home. This was a royal steed, purebred for strength and stamina in wars, and from the heavy stomping of his hoof he did not seem happy to have his rider replaced.

“Steady, Boulder.” Steven soothed his horse as he ran his palm along its neck before it reared back and snorted, steam exploded from his nostrils like the dragon on his crest.

“She’ll ride with me.” 

The King had seen the fear in your eyes as Boulder reared and he pulled the reins in your direction, leading his golden haired stallion towards you. You looked between both horses, their muscles rippling beneath shiny coats and standing at the same height. 

“I could walk.” You muttered as you looked to the distant palace. “I promise you, I won’t dally.”

“Nonsense. Now get on.” James ordered as he held his hand down for you. 

You looked at the leather riding glove and swallowed the lump in your throat as you placed your hand in his. His strength surprised you and you barely caught the small squeal that built as he pulled your feet off the ground and over the space he left in front of him.

“Wonderful.” You grumbled to yourself as you rearranged your tangled skirt layers and settled into the hard saddle. “This is just perfect.”

“More than you know.” James’ voice was barely more than a whisper before he cleared his throat and clicked his tongue to set his horse off at a trot. “You are going to hear things in the palace that should not be repeated. Do you understand?”

“I don’t understand.” You shook your head. “I did one good deed and now I am to be punished. No, your Majesty, I don’t understand anything.”

“You are not being punished.” James sighed, the sway of the horse’s walk rocking his lips closer to your ear. “And, please, when it is just us you can call me Bucky.”

You turned your head away with a scoff and watched the cherry blossoms opening as the sun rose higher over the land, warming the cool spring air. You would have thought the day perfect for a ride, if only you had a choice on where it was you were headed. 

The crunch of hooves of the gravel path began to grate on your nerves and your spine stiffened as the towers of the palace began to peek over the trees. You were so rigid that when you felt Bucky’s hands loosen the reins and come to rest on your knees you jerked and nearly fell off his horse. 

“Sorry, habit of riding alone.” He chuckled as his hands caught your waist and steadied you back in front of him. “You can hold the reins if you wish.”

You shook your head rapidly at the thought of trying to control such a beast and leant away from them as if the leather bands were a pair of vipers. The retreat pressed your back into Bucky’s chest and you felt his lips brush lightly over your neck, a gasp escaping your lungs at the electric shocks the touch sent down your body. 

“I’ll take that as a no then.” He chuckled quietly in your ear, goosebumps prickling over your skin as he once again gripped the reins and laid the fists over your skirt.

Every jostle shifted his hands and your heartbeat harder every time, a similar beat beginning to throb between your legs. 

“Bucky?” You asked, feeling his chest rumble with a deep hmmm in response. “If I am not being punished, why am I being taken to the palace?”

His chest rose and fell against your back as he pondered how to answer you until he could see no good outcome for any excuse he gave. “You’ll see.”

The dress you had been gifted was unlike anything you had ever worn before. The fine embroidery told a story with its delicate thread, roses and dragons, thorns and fire. The theme danced around the skirt while the corseted bodice left you feeling breathless but beautiful. 

You were desperate to find Bucky and get answers but every time you asked where the King was you were shushed and told to be patient. Patience was not your virtue and you struggled to sit still as the ladies surrounding you tried to arrange your hair that now smelt of rose water and patchouli. You had offered to do it yourself but quickly closed your mouth at the glare reflected in the mirror. 

“May I come in?” Bucky asked with a knock at the door.

“It’s your palace, your Majesty.” You replied as you rolled your eyes before you cried out in pain and saw the seamstress waving her needle at you in threat of another poke.

“Everything alright?” Bucky asked as he heard you and pushed the door open. “Oh, wow, you look absolutely stunning.”

Your eyes turned to the floor as you shied away from his heated gaze, your fingers tracing the golden thread of the dragon's head. “Thank you, your Majesty.”

He stepped closer to you and held his elbow out for you to take, your silk gloved hand coming to rest lightly on his forearm. “Did I mention how wonderful you look?”

“It’s the dress.” You mumbled as you followed his lead through the candlelit halls. “It’s very beautiful.” 

“It is, but so are you.”

You were sure the silver necklace that hung around your neck would melt from the heat you were producing but the ruby pendant remained set between the valley of your breasts. Unable to form a reply without confirming that he had your mind in a tizz, you remained silent and focused on walking in the heeled shoes that had been buckled to your feet. 

“I know I have been secretive about why you are here, and I am sorry for that.” Bucky said as he came to a stop outside a fair of formidable iron doors. “I am also sorry for what you are about to hear but I hope you will forgive me in time.”

The air froze in your lungs as the doors opened and you were led into the formal receiving room that was filled with royal advisors and the Queen Mother. Bucky’s mother rose to her feet as she saw her son, her eye’s barely giving you a cursory glance before she descended on the King.

“What is this I hear of you traipsing through the market like a peasant?” You struggled not to flinch at the icy tone of his mother and instead focused on the feel of Bucky’s muscles clenching in his forearm as his hand formed a strained fist. Looking up you saw his cheek ticking, the shadow of a beard sharpening his jawline as he suppressed his blatant anger. “I have spent the entire month convincing King Anthony to arrange a marriage with his daughter and on the day of her arrival you are nowhere to be seen.”

“You shouldn’t have troubled yourself needlessly.” Bucky stated. 

“Needlessly?” She scoffed. “You know the law, you need a Queen to produce an heir if you wish to remain on that throne your father died to put you on.”

Bucky’s free hand came to rest on yours, a small squeeze given as he squared off with his mother. “I need a wife, not a Queen.”

You tried to pull away as Winnifred turned her cold eyes on you but Bucky held your hand firm, his strength overpowering yours tenfold. She may have been shorter than you with her age but she still managed to look down her nose, scrutinising every part of you - even the depth of your soul seemingly. Other than the wide eyed, petrified look on your face there was no way of knowing you were one of the ‘peasants’ from the marketplace, you looked as adorned and pampered as the rest of the ladies in the room. 

Turning back to her son, you breathed a sigh of relief that her intense stare was no longer on you. “You would crown a nobody when you could have a princess?” 

“I would rather crown a kind nobody than have another frigid bitch living within these walls, mother.”

His fingers tightened on your arm as he felt you trying to pull away. The corset suddenly seemed too tight and you couldn’t draw the air needed into your lungs. 

“The poor woman is going to faint. She will never survive Court.” Winnifred laughed, turning her back on the King and walking back to her chair set aside from the pair of thrones centre to the room. “Tell me, darling, the treasury is waning - what dowry do you bring? What can you do to make this union profitable?”

You hadn’t known the country was in a dire financial state, in fact, from the lavish balls that were thrown each month behind the high palace walls you would have thought the opposite. Clearing your throat, Bucky looked at you with surprise as you stepped forward with a sudden fire in your belly. You didn’t want to marry the man you had just met, you didn’t want to be standing in the throne room of the palace, but since that was where you were you had a duty to your fellow lower class people to speak up.

“For starters, tax the rich.” You stated boldly, a chorus of scoffs and mocking laughter circling the room before the previous Queen held up her hand to silence them. 

“And when they revolt? How will you stop them from fighting?”

It was your turn to laugh as you shook your head incredulously. “I’m not sure how battles were fought back in your day, your highness, but I’ve never seen the rich or royal fight. You hide in the safety of your palaces while you send poor sons and fathers to their death.”

You turned to look around the room, glad to see at least a few ashamed faces unable to hold your stare until you face Bucky, that same smile he had given you in the market sending your heart racing. His arm curled around your waist and he nodded to his mother before guiding you back out of the room, his grin never wavering as the heavy doors closed behind you.

Pulling yourself from his touch you turned and poked your finger into his hard chest. “You smile at the idea of war?”

“Not in the slightest.” He smiled with a shake of his head. “There are very few people who would disagree with my mother. Ever since I saw you arguing with the forecourt master, I knew there was something special about you.”

Your feet stumbled as you remembered the argument the week prior. The price of hiring a market stall had increased twice in the last quarter and it was getting harder to sell products with the inflation - customers opting to travel further out of the city to where prices were cheaper. There had been an audience to the arguments but you hadn’t paid enough attention to the individuals to notice if there had been a cloaked figure among them. 

“Why have you been watching me?” You asked as you backed away from the King, the  hem of the long dress tripping you and nearly sending you falling into a tall candelabra.

Bucky surged forward and caught you around the waist, your breasts straining dangerously close to the top of the corset as he cradled your arched back and you threw your arms around his neck in case his strength failed. “Because I require a wife to keep my title, and I think you have the qualities needed in a Queen.”

“I’m not a royal.” 

“There is no written law that you have to be, trust me, I have read them all.” Bucky sighed, pulling you upright but keeping you in his arms. 

“How can I trust you? I don’t even know you. This morning I was ankle deep in mud selling fruit and now I’m,” you tugged at the dress, falling short on the word you wanted, “this. It isn’t me. I’m sorry but you should marry the Stark princess, your Majesty.”

“Forget the dress, just for a minute, forget the hair and the jewellery, even the palace.” Bucky begged, his eyes glowing bright in the midday sun that filtered through the windows of the hall. “You are brave, everyone in that room has witnessed it first hand. You understand business and commerce, albeit on a smaller scale than a whole country - but it’s really not that different. Most of all, you care about other people - even when there is no benefit to you. That is a rare sight to see and it was the moment I knew you were the one to rule at my side.”

“Bucky, stop.” His fingers tipped your head back and you could feel the warmth of his breath across your cheek, your body ready to betray your mind as he leant in, but you turned away at the last moment. “You claim to know my character but you have yet to ask the most basic information about me.”

“I’m not saying this will be easy, and I promise we will get to know each other with time.” He sighed. 

“So you don’t even want to know what my name is? My birthday? Where I live?”

“You think I didn’t find all this out before I arranged our wedding?” He chuckled. “I know everything about you, Y/N. That is why I know you are perfect for me.”

The room began to spin as his confession battered around in your brain. “I can’t marry you.”

“You can and you will.” Bucky promised as he cradled your cheek while you froze beneath his touch. “Your father has already accepted it, with more than fair share of remuneration I might add, so I suggest you do too - and quickly.”

You swallowed the lump in your throat and sagged in defeat, knowing your family needed the money as much as you needed your head to live, something that you were at risk of losing if you disrespected the King. “Fine.”

“I know this isn’t what you wanted, but we can learn to love each other.” He murmured gently as his thumb stroked your cheekbone. “You can’t deny the spark between us.”

You closed your eyes, the small shake of your head giving him hope as he wrapped his arms around you. There was no way to deny it, in his arms you could almost forget where you were as his scent drove you wild and his touch threatened to set your body on fire. Resting your head on his shoulder you hoped he was right, but only time would tell.

——

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Ugh I waaaant a buckyyy

i have a request if youre feeling up to it!! i love your writing and really appreciate your hard work.

I was thinking buck x reader, i def need some hurt/comfort in my life tbh. maybe a caretaker!reader who has a child she’s (or gn if you want) in charge of that runs into avengers and they all develop a relationship together? maybe reader is struggling financially or mentally and avengers + specifically bucky is able to help them with their situation? im not sure if this is something youre up to but if you are I’d really appreciate it! thanks again 🤗

Reader and Bucky are just two cute awkward people being cute and awkward together 😊

When Worlds Collide || Bucky

Warnings: 18+ only, panic attack, blood/injury, fluff WC: 3.2k

main masterlist || bucky masterlist

“Lily, time to go.”

You waited at the front door as you slipped your shoes on and checked you had everything in your bag for your shift at the hospital. You checked the clock hanging from your chest pocket and saw the seconds counting down the grey zone of cutting it close to just plain late.

“Lily, we are going to be late.”

The hurried stomps of your half sister's feet bounded down the stairs and you looked at the six year old with narrow eyes. “Brushed your teeth?”

She nodded and you curled your finger to call her closer. “Say ahh.”

She exhaled and you screwed your face up at her morning breath before she laughed and ran back up the stairs to brush her teeth.

“Scrub them for two minutes, little gremlin!” You reminded her as you watched your clock and listened to the water in the sink to shut off.

This time she bounded down the stairs and swiped her backpack from your hands as she stepped out the door. She stopped as she reached the gate to see you locking the door and she had the cheek to tut at you with her hand on her hip. “Come in, y/n, you’re gonna make me late.”

You chased her out the gate and kicked away the stone that held it open before dodging the other people making their way to the busy bus stop at 7.30am on a Monday morning. You could see the bus already at the stop just past Lily’s school gates but you were still too far away and you knew you wouldn’t make it in time. The engine roared and smoke chugged from the exhaust as it blew past you and you dropped your head back as you cursed whoever had given you all the bad luck in the world.

You huffed with gritted teeth and looked back down from the sky and stepped right into the back of a man. You groaned as you dropped your bag and quickly knelt down to grab it as he did too, knocking your heads together before you fell back on your ass. “Fudgery duck!”

“Shit, sorry. Sorry, sorry.” He rushed as he grimaced at your sorry sight, your hand rubbing your forehead furiously as Lily laughed from the sidelines. “Did you say something?”

“She said fudgery duck, she says it when she really wants to say fuck but I’m around.”

“Thanks, Lily. Aren’t you late for school?” You groaned as you pulled yourself off the cold concrete, the man offering his gloved hand. “I think I’m okay, thank you, one concussion a day is my limit.”

Lily was waving back at you as she skipped inside the school gates and you took your time righting your scrubs and wiping the small stones from your butt. You plastered a smile on your face as you waved but the second she was out of sight it fell as you thought of how expensive a taxi to work would be. Things had been tight before you had a child in your care but now you were hanging on by a thread, every cent you made went on the bills and Lily.

“Are you alright?” The man asked as he thought you were about to cry. “Should I call an ambulance?”

“No!” You rushed, the mere thought of it almost bankrupting you. “I mean, no thanks, I’m fine. Sorry, I should have been watching where I was walking.”

He shrugged off your apology and the movement pulled his sleeve up past the end of his gloves, a glint of metal peeking out.

“You’re the Avenger, Bucky, right?” You asked as you began to remember why he looked familiar. “May I?”

He looked dubious but he held his hand out and you couldn’t resist getting a closer look. The metal wasn’t cold as you had expected but it wasn’t warm to touch either and you brushed his jacket sleeve up higher so you could see how the plates moved when you bent his fingers.

“Wow, this is amazing.” You shook your head in wonderment before thinking you had probably made him uncomfortable as he stared at you. “Sorry…”

He seemed to realise he was staring and looked away with his own apology. “Most people seem pretty freaked out by it, except this kid from Queens.”

“I see a lot of vets with limbs amputated at the VHA where I work, I wish we had this sort of technology.” You sighed and dropped his hand. “And I am late. It was nice meeting you.”

The crowds were thinning as the school bell rang and more buses arrived but none of them would be heading where you needed to go.

“Do you need a ride?” Bucky offered as he watched that forlorn look pass over your face again. “It's the least I can do for headbutting you.”

You normally wouldn’t accept a ride from a stranger but he was an avenger, that meant he had to be good surely, and you had been late so often you were on your last warning. With a small grateful nod he pointed to a parking lot across the street and you walked quietly alongside him.

“Thank you for doing this, you probably have way more important things to do than be my taxi.”

“Not really.” He shrugged. “This is much better than going to see my therapist. I mean…that sounds bad…I’m not crazy, just so you know, it’s just something we have to do for work.”

“Relax, I’m not judging.” You chuckled as he fidgeted with his car keys. “I’m sure saving the world is pretty traumatic, I think I would be more worried if you didn’t need therapy.”

He was transported back to his younger days when he saw the men return from World War I and wondered how different their lives would have been had they had therapy back in those days, they didn’t even have it for the soldiers who survived World War II.

“You’re probably right.” He muttered as he unlocked his car. “Where to?”

“James J. Peters.” You said as you took a seat in the extremely clean car. “Just head straight up Grand Concourse.”

“You were going to take the bus all the way across New York?” He frowned.

You shrugged as you turned your attention out the window and mumbled under your breath. “Beggars can’t be choosers.”

One word. Five letters. That was all it took to send your heart racing into despair and you could feel the panic rising as you pushed the doors open and ran back into the parking lot you had just left. Your beg slipped from your arm as you sat heavily on the curb wondering what you had done so wrong in a past life to repeatedly have shit dumped on you.

Fired. Fired. Fired.

You heard a car door close in the parking lot but you didn’t even have the strength to find somewhere private to cry as you didn’t know how you were going to put food on the table next week. You had taken Lily in because there was no one else, if you couldn’t feed her she would have to go into the foster system and that thought sent a loud sob escaping your chest. She was family and she got on your nerves most days but she was your little gremlin and you didn’t want to lose her.

“Come on, let’s get you out of here.”

You heard Bucky’s soft voice and let pull you up off the curb as you leant into his side and cried. “I don’t know what to do.”

“We will start with not sitting on the sidewalk for a third time.” He tried to make you smile as he opened the car door and put you on the passenger seat. “What happened?”

“I was late again.” You sighed as you hiccupped. “They f-fired me.”

He reached across you as he opened the centre console then the glove compartment. “There’s gotta be tissues somewhere…”

“Shouldn’t you know? Isn’t this your car?”

“It’s one of the communal ones from work.” He answered as he looked in the back and found a napkin someone had missed when it was cleaned. “I think this hasn’t been used.”

You snorted a laugh that turned to a cry as you accepted the white napkin that looked clean and blew your nose. “I can’t take it anymore. One fucking thing after another. I just can’t.”

Your rambling turned to panic as your mind returned to Lily and you could practically see the CPS agents knocking on your door to take her away. Your vision narrowed as you imagined them having to carry her out because your little gremlin had fight in her and if she didn’t want to go she would do everything she could to stay.

“Y/n, look at me.” Bucky called out and snapped his fingers in front of your face.

Your head turned but it felt like you were sitting at the back of a subway and watching the front of the train bend around the corner, it was a complete disconnection from what was in front of you.

“How old is Lily?”

You frowned as you watched his lips move, the sound reaching your ears moments later. “Six.”

“When’s her birthday?”

“May 29th.” You answered quicker this time as your brain caught up. “Why are you so nosy?”

His lips twitched as he sighed with relief. “You were having a panic attack. Guess therapy taught me something after all.”

You were surprised you had gone so long without a panic attack already, you knew it had been bound to happen and you were thankful that Bucky was able to spot it. You could feel he was surprised when you hugged him but after a moment he put his arm loosely around you too.

“Do you want me to give you a ride home or I was going to run some errands…we could keep each other company?” He offered as you let him free of the hug.

The thought of sitting alone at home with your thoughts sounded like a recipe for disaster but since you no longer had income you didn’t want to have to pay for a babysitter if you didn’t have to. “Lily finishes at 3, do you think we will be back by then?”

He looked at his watch and nodded before walking around the car and heading back to the east side of the city. Over the next four hours Bucky worked hard to keep you distracted and even bought you lunch, despite your best attempts to pay for your own food. Unfortunately it was time to face reality as he made the journey back to your neighbourhood and you sighed heavily at the weight that burdened your shoulders.

“Look, a smart woman like you is going to snap up a job no problem.” Bucky tried to reassure you as he came to a stop outside your house. “There must be plenty of places that need a nurse.”

“Yeah but they all have night shifts. I can’t leave Lily alone and I sure as hell can’t afford a night sitter.” You could feel yourself getting worked up about it all over again until Bucky’s gloved hand came to rest on yours with a squeeze.

“We’ll figure something out, alright.”

You didn’t want to sound ungrateful so you kept your mouth shut and just nodded, but you had no idea how he could help you, he barely knew you. “Do you want to come in for a coffee?”

He looked at the time and saw there was still half an hour before you had to pick up Lily so he turned the engine off and you unlocked the gate. He frowned as he passed the car sitting on cinder blocks in your driveway, the wheels missing.

“They couldn’t have just stolen the whole car.” You commented as you found your house key. “At least then the insurance would’ve paid out.”

You were already in the kitchen by the time Bucky entered the house and you called out to him so he knew where to find you.

“I just wanted to apologise for taking up your whole day.” You said as you leant against the countertop. “I’ve probably put you off helping someone ever again.”

His smile was genuine as he shook his head. “It’s about the most normal day I have had in years.”

“You and I have very different ideas on what a normal day is.” You laughed. “Bingeing terrible tv, blasting music and cleaning the house, that's normal.”

His nose wrinkled your idea of a normal day and you grabbed the remote for the stereo, hitting play on the last CD that was still in it. It was one your mom’s from the 80’s and you laughed at the unimpressed face Bucky had for the techno tune.

“Note to self - he doesn’t like the 80’s.” You teased as you hit stop and poured the coffee that was ready. “I’ll sell you on them, just give me some time.”

You were just walking home after taking Lily to school when you noticed a large truck pulling in front of your drive. You were about to tell them to move when the door opened and Bucky jumped out of the driver's seat.

“Uh, what’s going on?” You frowned as he waved you over and opened the back door. “What are you doing?”

“About the only thing he is good at.” A man said behind you and you spun around to see Captain America smirking. “Heavy lifting.”

“Sam, this is y/n, y/n this is Sam.” Bucky introduced as he pulled a pallet of tyres and rims out of the back of the truck.

“It’s nice to meet you.” Sam grinned as he held out his hand. “He hasn’t shut up since he came home last night.”

Your ears burned at his words but you couldn’t dwell on it too long before a quiet woman joined you, her eyes darting around everyone like they were assessing you before she smiled.

“You must be y/n, I’m Wanda.”

Her hand was warm as you shook hers and it reminded you of holding your mom’s hand as you crossed the street as a child. Shaking the odd feeling off, you looked down at your yoga pants and baggy shirt, thankful you had even changed out of your pyjamas before leaving the house. “I, um, wasn’t expecting anyone.”

“Don’t worry about it, why don’t we go inside and relax while the boys get your car fixed,” she suggested and you found your feet leading the way, “have a little girl talk.”

“Is that your power? Making me feel comfortable?” You asked as you sat beside her on the couch.

“Gosh, no.” She laughed and held her hand up so you could see it glow with a red mist. “This happens when I use my power.”

“It’s pretty.”

“It’s also deadly.” She sighed and dropped her hand.

Your eyes drifted out to the window where Bucky was lifting your car off the blocks and Sam was putting the wheels on, your voice a wistful whisper. “The two often go hand in hand.”

“So, you and Bucky?”

You put your herbal tea down on the coffee table with a scoff. “Not very smooth, Wanda. I only met him yesterday and we literally butted heads.”

“Well you must have knocked some sense into him, I don’t think I’ve seen him smile so much.”

A proud smile graced your lips at the thought of him smiling, he had been so kind to you yesterday in a way no one else had. Suddenly a cry of pain rang out and you leapt from the couch to run outside and saw Sam clutching his hand, blood running down his forearm.

“Bucky, can you go to the kitchen and get the first aid kit from under the sink?” You asked and he took off, jumping clear over the steps instead of climbing them while you helped keep pressure on the gash across his arm and led him inside.

“Damn tyre iron slipped.” He groaned as he sucked the air through his teeth.

“Please don’t sue me.” You half joked, but he had been injured on your property.

“Ha!” He laughed, making you relax. “Maybe I should sue Cyborg for being a pain in my ass.”

“Who's holding the first aid kit huh, punk?” Bucky asked as he stood in the doorway, holding it just out of reach.

“Are they always like this?” You asked Wanda as they bickered like siblings.

“Always.” She laughed before looking at Bucky. “He’s going to bleed on her couch if you don’t hand it over.”

He quickly crossed the room and placed the bag on the coffee table where you opened it and pulled on a pair of gloves first. You pulled Sam’s hand away and saw it was still bleeding but replaced his hand with a quikclot bandage.

“You’re going to need a few stitches.” You grimaced. “How’s your pain tolerance?”

“Does Bucky sized count?” He shot back with a wry smile.

“I can stitch it here or there’s an emergency room a few blocks away.” You said before the two men could start another argument.

“Here’s fine. I’ll be fine.” He said as he gritted his teeth.

“All done.” You promised as you tied off the last stitch and covered the wound up.

“Took it like a champ.” Bucky chuckled.

Sam cleared his throat and wiped his eyes with the collar of his shirt. “I just got some dust in my eye man.”

You tidied up the mess of bloody gauze and other supplies you had used before packing away the first aid kit. “I think that’s enough surprises for one day.”

“I actually have one more.” Bucky said as he tipped his head towards the kitchen and you followed him through. “I had a talk with Mrs Stark and there’s a nurse's position available in the medic bay, she’ll want to see your qualifications but if you send her the details, the job is yours.”

“What?” You asked dumbly as your mouth fell open. “You did this?”

He suddenly looked unsure of himself and scratched at his neck. “No, I mean, yes. Should I not have?”

You were absolutely stunned by everything he had done for you. You threw your arms around his waist and felt tears of joy fill your eyes and thanked him over and over.

“I know it's a bit far to travel by bus so I thought it would be easier if we got your car running for you.”

“Wait, you didn’t hurt Sam as an audition of some sort?” You pulled back to look at his aghast face.

“I mean I sometimes imagine it but…”

“I heard that.” Sam laughed.

“Ok, good. Not that you imagine it obviously, you should probably mention that to your therapist.” You joked before sobering. “Thank you, Bucky, you have no idea what this means to me.”

“You can tell me about over lunch, at work, on Monday.”

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