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spicyy-fox · 2 months ago

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𝐃𝐚𝐧𝐜𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐢𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐑𝐚𝐢𝐧 ☂️ | 𝟏𝟗𝟒𝟎𝐬!𝐁𝐮𝐜𝐤𝐲 𝐁𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐞𝐬 𝐱 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

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🌧️ Title: 𝐃𝐚𝐧𝐜𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐢𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐑𝐚𝐢𝐧 💃 Pairing: 1940s!Bucky Barnes x Reader 🎶 Vibe: Flirtation, swing dancing, stormy kisses, good old-fashioned swooning, no hurt only comfort 📜 Summary: It’s a summer garden party in the ‘40s. The storm hits—and Bucky doesn’t run. He just grins and grabs your hand. “Dance with me,” he says. 🕊️ Warnings: Nothing but tooth-rotting fluff, light rain, wet clothes, and one dramatic dip.

💌Authors note: Sometimes you just need a palate cleanse from all the angst, enjoy this fic and listen to the legendary Americano - By our queen Lady Gaga.

✨Word count: 1.1k

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Music is blaring from a record player on a makeshift outdoor dance floor, it was a small garden party, a simple neighborhood get together - summer night, strung-up lights swaying in the light breeze, people laughing, talking, drinking, dancing and having fun, a record crackles as it spins. You, Bucky and Steve stand on the edge from the crowd, tension between you and Bucky buzzing lowly.

Then - the storm hits. Sudden. Hard rain. Americano starts blaring from the record as it starts pouring down. Everyone runs for cover, squealing, covering their heads with jackets and plates of food. But not him

Not bucky.

He turns to you grabbing you by the wrist, already soaked, hair slicked back, shirt clinging to his chest like second skin - and just grins. That dammed grin. The song starts picking up, building up the tension as the sky cracks above with lightning.

"Dance with me," he says not letting go, but his grip wasn't tight

You're breathless and shocked but don't pull away

"in this?!"

Bucky shrugs still smug as hell

"C'mon doll, you're not scared of a little rain are you?"

He pulls you i, his other hand now on your waist, the interlude of the song plays. Your steps at first are hesitant - playful. You let him spin you slowly, water catching in the air like glitter.

"You're mad," you laugh

"Always have been," Bucky says, that gleam in his eye catching brighter than the lightning cracking behind him.

*Right after the first -Americanooo...-*

Then the music kicks in. Hard. Bucky grabs your hand again, pulling you back in closer, this time his grip firmer on your hand. He leads - confident, bold.

A spin.

A dip.

He ducks under your arm as you twist. Water splashes with every one of your movements, your soaked dark red dress clinging to your legs as he lifts you slightly into a jump twist. His footwork is agile, joyful and fast. Bucky smiles his dripping wet hair now sticking to his face and neck. His hands feeling warm on you as he held you, a contrast to your soaked through dress.

The chorus of the song comes up, high energy swing. He twirls you in place, your wet hair whipping around you, both of you laughing by now. Your heels slightly slide with each pivot, you slip lightly, But bucky is there, steady hands on your waist as he catches you from the slip.

"You're showing off," you shout over the down pouring rain and the blasting music

"You love it," he grins, and pulls you into another spin towards himself, wrapping his arms around you.

The first chorus ends - emotions deepening, crowd not pulling their eyes away from you two. You both now completely soaked to the bone, your dress skirt now completely clinging to your legs, his sleeves sticking to his arms, suspenders darkened with rain. But there's no hesitation now. Just that look in his eyes - Like you are the only thing good in this god forsake world.

-I will fight for, I have fought for how i love you...-

He spins you again, lightly pulling you closer, leaning in, lips near your ear, voice rough with feeling, breath heavy as he keeps moving to the rhythm

"I'll go twelve rounds with god if it meant staying like this forever,"

He doesn't care that your hair is now plastered on your cheeks, your makeup runny from the rain or that his shoes are now half-sunk in the mud, his socks soaked wet.

"I've seen men loose everything," he murmurs, "but if i get to keep this, I'll go through any kind of hell smiling"

He twirls you again, slightly faster this time. His hand lingers at your back, fingers curling just slightly into your dress. And then he pulls you close again, your noses almost brushing, his smug grin still plastered on his face.

The song reaches its peak - electric, unstoppable, magnetic by now. The beat is pounding now - your bodies moving like the rain itself - wild, fearless, alive and free.

-I don't speak your...-

You spin again - your dress clings to your legs again, water flying out with every twirl. He ducks under your arm, pops back up behind you and slides one hand down your waist with a small wolfish grin.

-Jesus Christo... Americano...-

His smile is feral - playful but intense. His grip on you is firm, and yet every move felt like you are flying free.

You loose yourself in the rhythm, the storm, him- until you're breathless, soaked, your heart pounding in your chest, loud enough to rival the thunder.

-Don't you try to catch me...-

Your feet stomp into the muddy floorboards with power, matching Bucky beat for beat, your heels clicking loudly as the music hits that rebellious, theatrical stretch. He mirrors you - quick steps, sharp turns, nearly slipping, but catching you in a dramatic pull that makes the crowd gasp.

He mouths the words along with the record: "I'm living on the edge of the law, law, law..."

-Don't you try to get me...-

He twirls you once, twice-

Then pulls you into a deep, movie-worthy dip.

One arm around your back, the other catching your thigh as your leg lifts slightly, soaked skirt of the dress unsticking from you for a moment. Rain still pouring heavy, catching the string lights in the glittering sheets.

You both grinning like you both lost your god damn minds.

And then-

He kisses you.

Hard.

Breathless.

Like you two are the only ones in the world.

The record scratches slightly as the song ends. You both snap upright, breathing heavy and laughing in each others faces.

"We are soaked to hell!" you laugh wiping the rain from away from your eyes.

"Worth it," Bucky says as he grabs your hand.

You take off running - squelching boots, squeaking floorboards under your feet, slipping slightly as you sprint under the covered patio. The crowd was cheering and whistling like it was the best show they saw in years, as you get to cover where everyone was hiding from the rain. Someone makes a quick run to grab you both towels as others keep egging you on for the performance. Someone shouts

"Get a room!"

While another one adds laughing

"The love birds are at it again!"

Steve was clapping then grabs a cup to take a drink as he grins into it

"You two are ridiculous," he mutters, but there is pride in his eyes.

You and bucky collapse onto a bench, soaked, breathless and shivering, but smiling so hard it hurts. He throws an arm over your shoulders, pulls you close.

And with your heart still racing, the rain still pouring, and the music echoing in your brain-

Bucky leans in and whispers

"You still up for round two later?" his tone teasing

You swat his chest laughing.

The night continues as the storm eventually eases down.

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✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: Thank you for reading! :･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ✧ Reblog + scream in the tags if this gave you serotonin 💃 ✨ Masterlist ✨ | AO3 link soon!

#bucky barnes x reader #40s bucky #bucky barnes fluff #dancing in the rain #soft fic #no angst just vibes #rainy romance #one shot #bucky barnes #bucky barnes brainrot #bucky barnes fanfic #bucky barnes supremacy #bucky x you

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spicyy-fox · 2 months ago

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King of thorns and steel - chapter two

(CONTINUATION)

🔗If you missed it, read Chapter 1 here:

🧊 Pairing: King!Bucky Barnes x Demon!Reader 👑 Genre: Dark Fantasy, Enemies to Lovers, Slow Burn 🔥 Warnings: violence, power dynamics, implied trauma, slow burn, language, enemies to lovers tension 📜 Summary: The royal court is thick with tension, will you survive? Or will you be eaten alive by the wolves?

💬 Notes: This chapter is more action and tension heavy, and definitely not the end of the story, there will be many chapters to come.

🫀 Rating: Teen for now — may become Mature later on.

Moonlight flickered in through the stained-glass windows, casting faint fragments of color across polished obsidian floors. Golden chandeliers flickered with spellfire. The court slowly simmered in, every one of their steps echoing like a challenge.

One by one the high seats were filled:

The fae envoy, Sam Wilson of the Verdant Glade strode in with practiced grace, his coat trailing behind him like the midnight mist. His altered circlet glinted- a mark of his rank, ancient and earned, by spilled demon blood and hard work. He takes the seat on Buckys left, calm and collected.

The High elf commander Steve Rogers of the Everlight Citadel came in beside him, his silver ceremonial armor glinting in he low light, untouched by the time. His voice could rouse nations, but tonight, he said nothing as he took the seat on the right of the King.

The Arachnid siren, Natasha Romanoff of the webbed deep, sat already poised with legs crossed and lips curled into an all knowing smirk. Her gaze swept the court like a blade - quiet, deliberate, lethal. You felt the weight of her amusement, she knew your secret, played along, just to see how long you could keep it up.

The woodland elf marksman, Clint of the hollow bough, leaned against the carved bark throne, fingers restless and knuckles scarred from battle. He looked calm, ready to loose an arrow from his quiver the moment prey blinked wrong, and you, you were almost like said prey at the moment you misstepped.

The human sorcerer, Stephen Strange of the sanctum, arrived exactly on time, as always. Cloaked in crimson robes and wards stitched into his cuffs. He gave you a glance like you were a puzzle already solved, that he was not ready to reveal.

The arcanotek Forger Lord, tony stark of the forged flame, his body a hymn to iron and intellect, clicked softly as he moved, part man, part machine, part myth. Eyes aglow. Mind never resting, his kind never rested. He didn't even look at you - but you could feel him measuring you up. His curiosity driven by the want for more power.

The weaver of the veil, Wanda of the threads eternal, did not walk as much as she just arrived besides Strange. Her robes shimmered with stars not yet born, her hands ever-moving, ever-spinning the unseen veil of fate. Time bent around her as if it owed her everything. She was one of the most powerful here, the weaver of fates, the keeper of the veil and the one who determines the changes of time itself.

The stormborn, Thor of the endless Tempest, a celestial, your kinds natural born enemy, strode in like thunder had thought him how to walk. Rain misted from his cloak as if the storm followed him inside. His voice was a roar even in silence, he looked only at Bucky - their bond forged on battlefields that stained the skies red.

And at the head of them all, on the dark ebony carved throne was seated King Bucky Barnes of Ardenshade. Crown dark as if carved out of Blackstone and bone resting on his long hair. His gaze didn't lift as the court assembled. His attention only set on the reports before him and you, at least for the moment.

The courtroom was silencing down as the usual discussions began, the issues of each being discussed thoroughly. Your focus was drifting away as you barely paid attention by now, your mind occupied with your own plans. The discussions warried but almost nothing was important enough for you to pay attention.

Just as you were zoning out the sound of a bowstring snapped with a deadly hiss, the wood groaning under the fierce tension like a beast ready to strike from an unknown direction. Time seemed to slow down as the arrow was loosed - a piercing whistle sliced through the heavy air, a lethal whisper cutting straight towards its mar- King Bucky. You acted before even reacting, time slowed - sharp and slow all at once - your instincts slicing through the haze. You barely whispered the ancient chant, a language long forgotten, only spoken by demons, under your breath, fingertips tingling as a shimmer of forbidden shadow magic curled around your wrists, eyes flickering pure black just for a moment.

Without even turning, you traced an invisible thread of power towards the arrow, the air humming slightly with tension. A shadow materializes as a dark veil like figure, splitting the arrow mid-flight with a sharp crack, sending splinters of wood and shattered magic raining harmlessly onto the big mahogany table in the middle of the room. The room went silent the splinters falling down being the only sound that was hearable.

Eyes in the room snapped towards you - Sam's gaze narrowing sharply. His fae senses caught the faint echo of your forbidden magic, the mark it left in the weave. And you could almost feel the weight of suspicion settle like stone in the pit of your stomach.

A ripple of chaos tore through the court the moment the arrow shattered and hit the table. Gasps erupted as well as mumbles. One of the nobles jumped to accuse while drawing his blade

"She used demon magic!" he barked

Magic shimmered faintly in the air, like the echo of a bell that refused to stop ringing. Sam's gaze was locked o you now, sharp and cold, as if trying to pel the truth from your bones with nothing but suspicion.

And yet-

In the midst of all that-

Natasha sat perfectly still.

Legs crossed, one hand drumming on the armrest of her throne-like seat, other holding a glass of dark red wine, a faint smile playing on her lips like she is watching a climax of a perfectly good play.

"interesting," she murmured "I was beginning to think this would be boring"

Her eyes flicked between you and Bucky, curious, calculating.

And entirely too amused.

The energy in the room coiled like a snake, ready to strike. Steel hissed from sheaths, magic shimmered under fingertips.

And then-

"Enough."

One word. Cold. Final.

It echoed across the marble walls like thunder rolling in from a distant storm.

Every voice, every motion, stilled. Even the magic in the air seemed to recoil.

Bucky stood, slow and deliberate. The air shifted with him, heavy with authority.

"Stand. Down."

His voice wasn't raised - but it didn't need to be. It held the weight of battles won, blood spilled, and a crown earned by silence and steel.

"This court is adjourned."

The guards faltered stepping back. Blades lowered. Sam's suspicion remained, but even he knew better than to defy a direct order here. Bucky's gaze swept the court, resting a moment longer on you - just long enough to leave your heart thudding in your chest. Then he turned, hand trailing on the arm of the throne, the crimson of his cloak trailing behind him as he leaves the hall in absolute silence. Not before gesturing you to follow him out.

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spicyy-fox · 3 months ago

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King of thorns and steel

🧊Pairing: King!Bucky Barnes x Demon!Reader 👑Genre: Dark Fantasy, Enemies to Lovers, Slow Burn 🔥 Warnings: violence, power dynamics, implied trauma, slow burn, language, enemies to lovers tension 📜 Summary: A demon-born thief. A brutal king. A court full of secrets. You infiltrated Ardenshade with a single goal — steal the crown’s greatest magical relic. But instead, you've caught the interest of the man who wears it.

💬 Notes: This is a slow burn dark fantasy AU with palace intrigue, magic lore, and Bucky being a dangerous, touch-starved menace. Think throne rooms, stolen glances, and enemies dancing too close. I write from second person as i hate using y/n, its a female reader intention, the character is already decided

🫀Rating: Teen for now - may become Mature later on

The flickering torchlight casted gold across the marble floors as you knelt. Your armor ill fitting but convincing. You keep your head down in formality, but you didn't belong, not in here, not as a guard standing in front of the king.

You were a child of darkness, a creature casted out by all - the kind of being mothers whispered warnings about to their children.

The castle of Ardenshade, covered in dark thorns, ruled by a king with a metal fist. The castle stood tall, ruling over the obsidian streets that were almost as tricky as a maze. This kingdom, untouched by the wars flame was ruled by the king James "Bucky" Barnes, the king of thorns and steel - not for the crown he wore, nor for the metal hand he had, but for the blood he bled to keep it.

The kingdoms strengths didn't lie in its walls, alliances or armies, but in its legacy - a lineage of rulers forged in war, their wills steeled by betrayal and sacrifice.

The people speak in hushed tones of the metal arm of their king, a symbol as much of a power as of the blood he bears. Here, strength is survival, and survival demands ruthlessness.

The kings voice, cold and commanding fills the great hall as he descends from his throne. You all rise with practiced perfection.

"State your name and allegiance. Let the royal court know whose loyalty they command."

One by one guards speak up. When it comes to you, you say it with practiced steadiness, this wasn't the first time, you've practiced this many times before, you have been standing here for a long while, lying, covering it all up.

But never in front of the royal court. Not in your countless veil changings.

You clutched your name like a lifeline, despite the weight it bears.

But the kings eyes narrow, his brows furrowing with confusion, he has heard the name several times before, but in the moment, it was like he never has.

"i do not recall that name among my sworn,"

He says, slow, deliberate.

A hush falls over the room, as if the very air held its breath.

The curse - the cruel fate of every demon, to be forgotten. there was an old saying, "To strip a name, is to erase ones soul"

You feel the weight of the glances, like invisible chains, Kings gaze strong and unyielding, but you don't falter, you don't give in, you just hold your stance.

The king steps closer to you, eyes dark and unreadable

"Names are power," he murmurs "Yet yours... Slips though my memory like smoke"

Bucky studies you with unyielding intensity

"I know your face, you've stood before me for the last veil changings... Strange i don't ever recall your name..."

He looks at you for a while longer, studying you, waiting for some sort of reaction, before stepping back and walking to his throne once again.

There were no more words spoken for a moment, his gaze didn't give away any suspicion of you. As if he had brushed it off already, or maybe, just maybe the first seed of doubt in who you truly are has planted itself in his mind, and you just became a part of a long cat and mouse game.

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