#nixakimbo edits

[navybrat817]

You are in the trash stache train. Don't deny!

Oh, nonnie. I'm excited for Chris to play a villain. I'm excited for Lloyd. Still not on the trash stache train, so I will deny. 😉

HOWEVER. These BEAUTIFUL Nix edits that I will forever be thankful for? Yeah, I'll sit on his face. 🔥

If I can't have villain!Andy in looks, I'll take that. 🔥

Love and thanks! ❤️

[georgiapeach30513]

Your Mark On Me, Part 13

Summary: Steve softens and submits

Pairings: Steve Rogers X Reader

Rating: explicit

Warnings:  explicit language, explicit sexual content, bit of a chase kink, teasing, unprotected sex, PIV sex, creampie, bathtime fun, D/s dynamics, breeding kink, bit of voyeurism, mean!Steve, 18+ ONLY

Word Count: 5.9K

Previous

Series Masterlist

*dividers created by @firefly-graphics

*edit by @nixakimbo

You give a final smile to Bucky and Shy, and hug to your former guard. Making sure to kneel down to rub on Shy’s belly, leaning to give the bump a kiss, “You take care of your mama, little Ember. I can’t wait to hold you. Thank you for a lovely day,” you stand back up, giving Shy another hug. “Your home is lovely.”

And with that Steve nods a head to both Bucky and Shy, leading you out to the car where he opens the door up for you. He can be sweet when he wants to. When he isn’t so brooding and all business. Trying to be create a persona that is quite different to the man you were starting to learn. Days like this made you realize that there is a lot more to Steve than meets the eye. He could be soft. Just with the right people.

You suppose that is probably the safest thing to do, be cautious. For him. You just loved people, and wanted them to know. Everyone needed words of confirmation from time to time. “She looks adorable pregnant.”

“So will you,” he answers, giving you a soft smile. He could be a bit confusing with his personality. Today you are getting the sweet Steve. It had to have been seeing Bucky again. Bucky leaving Steve’s business for good seems to have affected him. He realizes how things have shifted.

“Are you sad?” He keeps his eyes on the road, and his Adam’s apple bobs while he searches for the right words.

“That you have an IUD? Of course. But I’ll let you decide when I get to fill you full of me,” you roll your eyes as your hand naturally falls into his. He is so silly. Always going back to that, and not at all what you are thinking about.

”I meant about Bucky choosing Shy over…the business,” you hesitate to say over Steve. he didn’t necessarily choose Shy over him. But in a way he did. Bucky found something more important to him than what he had been doing for years. More important than being in the business with his best friend. The business risk didn’t outweigh his love for his fiance and future family.

Steve goes silent. His sharp eyes look out in front of the car, but never respond. It hurts him too much to think that Bucky would never be a part of this world for him. “I mean, having a child is a huge responsibility. It seems like Shy makes enough money to keep them afloat. And he seems to really be right at home with her. And their kitty. We should probably get a pet. I bet it was nice for her to have a pet when Bucky was out at odd hours of the night. Especially when he was with me. Heaven knows that man has seen so much of my body, and just what you do to me. Do you think she was ever jealous of that? Have you met Shy before today? Wait, no you said that was your first time meeting her. Bucky must really love her to want to protect her from your life.”

”Dovey,” his thumb draws shapes on your hand, and you turn to look at him. He is haunted about something. About his thoughts that never left him. There is no telling the things that he has seen in this life. “Baby, you need to breathe.”

“Where are you taking me?” This isn’t the way home. “Are we going out?” he shakes his head no, and you look at him with a pout. The facial expression does get a huff of a laugh. “Steve!”

“Does this road not look familiar?” No. It didn’t. But clearly it is supposed to. You sigh, waiting on him to hopefully answer. Your body leans more into him. Letting his warmth encapsulate your nerves. Trying to think of when you had been here, and then there is something that looks familiar.

“But…where is everything else?” It is the playground. Before there were swings, slides, monkey bars, but now the only thing left standing is the bars that Steve had set you on. “Steve?”

“I held onto this place for a long time,” he places the car into park, and while you give him your full attention, he just gazes out at the almost empty park. “I met her here for the first time,” he is taking way too long to tell a story, but for the sake of him not getting pissy at you, you wait on him. Even if you feel a pang of jealousy with the simple word of her.

“She was beautiful. I hadn’t fully grown into my body yet, but she still saw me. I told you I was bullied here, but I was slowly turning it into a drop off. It was overgrown, and kids didn’t come here anymore. But Peggy did. She stayed a bit too far away. Watching. Always watching me. I got a bit cocky, and came by more often. Bought the land, so it was my private property. Employed Bucky and Sam. And I kept getting bigger, and finally she came and talked to me.”

You don’t even know Peggy, but you hate her. It isn’t even jealousy, okay maybe a little bit. But it is mostly due to the fact there’s something so off in her behavior. She just watched him for months?

“She was a simple girl, just wanted some weed. And came by regularly to get it. And then I got the courage to ask her out. We were inseparable. I fell so hard, and so fast. I was telling that woman I loved her everyday. Bucky and Sam kept telling me there was something off with her. She didn't want to move in, but she stayed at my house a lot. Didn’t seem to have a job, but I kept her up anyways. And then — fuck,” he slams his hand onto the steering wheel, leaving you without his warmth.

“A squad came barging into my house throwing shit all around, and what do you know, Peggy was the one leading them. She’d lied the whole time. Undercover for what she felt was the next up and coming drug ring. Sam and Bucky were right, and smarter than that bitch. They cleaned out my house the night before. She was the one that shoved me to the floor, got me in a submissive position on my knees and demanded for me to tell her where the drugs were. I just smiled up at her. I spent a few weeks in jail. And come to find out later she actually is dating Rumlow. Maybe she’s going to bust him, too. Maybe she actually loves him, I don’t know. But I’ve never trusted another woman. Nor been put in that position again.”

It's your turn to go silent. You hated that bitch. How dare she even touch Steve. She got all that with him. All the love and words, and before you. It shouldn’t matter, but she broke him. And the realization of him holding her actions over you. She made him not trust women so much that he couldn’t even be honest with you.

”Until you,” your head slowly turns to look at him, and he’s never seemed so torn. His eyes are glossy, and face solemn, and all you want to do is hold him. “I got on my knees for you. I have left you in my home alone. I have entertained you for months, and I’ve done everything I said that I would never do again, and it’s all been for you. I can’t — Dovey, I’m sorry, I can't say those words you deserve to hear.”

You let out an air of breath that you aren’t aware you were holding, as you search his face. He is being as candid as he can, and his hurt from being used, and lied to still lingers. But he said you deserve to hear the words.

“Steve, I told you it was enough. I will hear those words from you, but what’s more important I feel those words from you. I see them. I didn’t know about what she did to you, but I know that every time you drop to your knees to put my shoes on, it is something that isn’t easy for you, and you’ve given that to me more than once.”

“All that I told her should have been for you.”

“It will be,” your hand cups his cheek, and you place a kiss on his face. Kissing away the single tear that rolls past his lash line. She might have gotten the words, but you get the actions. “Why did you have everything from the playground removed?”

“I didn’t,” his lips turn up into a smile, but he doesn't dare to look out at the former park. His dark lashes splay across his cheeks, keeping his eyes closed, choosing to feel this moment instead of just seeing it. “That piece of equipment doesn’t look familiar? That is the first place that I stared at the face of God. It holds a special meaning to me,” you roll your eyes, attempting to turn away from his silly self when he grabs at your face. Hand on your jaw, making you look at him. His fingers are steady but not too harsh.

His eyes open slowly, and you stare at his perfectly imperfect blue eyes with their bit of green lacing through the crystal blue, “Don’t look away from me when I’m talking to you, and being sweet.”

“You’re talking about my pussy.”

Steve gives you a boop to your nose and a too innocent smile for him, “I think you mean my pussy. At least that’s what you tell me every time I fuck into you. Are you saying I don’t own this pussy anymore,” the hand holding onto your jaw falls in between your thighs, and cups your covered mound. “I do love that you wear skirts. Do you realize how easy it would be to move these panties over and…hey!”

He yells after you as you jump out of the car. Looking back at him with a playful grin. “If it’s your pussy, come and claim it!” Squealing you run away from the giant tattooed man that stomps after you. He doesn’t even have to run with his long strides. But you don’t stop.

Bobbing and weaving on the mostly empty lot. Looking back at him laughing carelessly, and you see the first genuine smile spread across his angelic face. If it wasn’t for his chiseled body covered in ink, he’d look almost boy-like. You’re glad he didn’t tattoo his face. But right now in this moment, you see him for the man he was before his harsh world crashed over him.

Crinkles at the edge of his eyes that you love to kiss. You wished you could see those lines more often. They did seem to be making an appearance more often now. His lines on his face told a story, much like the tattoos and scars that stained his skin.

He reaches out a hand to grab you, but you dodge his advance. Doing a quick twirl before you sprint away, and turn to look at him, “Is that the best you got, Rogers?”

“Now, you’ve gone too far. Take that back!” You’re almost tempted to call him that again.

“Never, daddy!” He growls, wrapping his hand around your wrist, but you slip away. “Stevie, you really are losing your touch. AHH!” You screech when both his arms wrap around you. He pulls you so tight against his body it takes your breath away. You struggle to get away, not wanting this playful Steve to disappear just yet.

Struggling so hard that the two of you slam onto the ground in a fit of giggles, “What was it that you called me, Dovey?”

“Captain,” laughing when he rolls his eyes, and shakes his head no.

“You’re such a liar,” he crows, his teeth nibbling on your neck. Playfully biting you, while demanding you admit the names you called him. “Tell me, baby,” his voice turns labored. The playful chase already over as you wiggle around in his embrace.

His thumb hooks under the elastic of your panties. And he starts to jerk down the cotton. Lifting you up a bit to fully remove them. Legs being pushed apart by his wide body, and you pull at his button, trying to release the monster cock that is straining in these jeans. “Tell me first, and I’ll give you everything you want.”

Pushing aside your hand, he pulls himself out. You yip at the sight of his pretty little piercing coated in beads of precum. Gripping the base of his cock he pumps himself a few times before rubbing his tip through your drenched center. His squishy head barely pushing through your entrance, “I called you Rogers,” his hips thrust forward, leaving you blinded by the intense and immediate stretch.

Vision is blurry. Like a filter had been laid over the world around you, and all you see is him. All you feel is his weight lowering over top of you, and his arms caging you. The cold grass tickling your backside. Senses on overdrive because he gave so much of himself to you today.

“I called you — daddy,” you scream out as he fucks into you so hard and deep his tip kisses the edge of your cervix. The one name he told you not to call him, and you would pay for your indiscretions in pleasure. You are now aware of how you haven’t fully taken all of Steve from the way he is filling you up. A perfect fit indeed as you revel in having him so purely. His hips piston him deeper into your warmth than he’s ever been. Branding you in a different way than before. This is just for you and him.

”Fuck,” Steve grouses, a hand slides up to your neck. Keeping his eyes on yours as he adds a bit of pressure. He is fighting off saying what he really wants to say. Using your body to work through his emotions. Never looking to where the two of you connect, keeping both eyes trained on you.

The softest whimper explodes out of his chest as he holds your gaze, “You’re my best friend.”

His words contradict his sharp thrusts inside of you. “You are. I trust so few, but I trust you…the most,” you preen at his words. Mewling out his name, and circling your legs around him. Allowing your body to take every part of him. Soft words with harsh movements have your body floating and unable to focus.

“I love…love spending every day with you. I don’t want to miss a day,” he is getting there. Slowly. But he is. And judging by the sparks going through your body, you’re also almost there.

“You’re my best friend, too, Captain. Now finish me,” he rams into you. Hitting you in all the right spots until your eyes go crossed, and you roll them into the back of your head. “Steve!” you scream out as your body begins to tremble. There is nothing but the two of you out here in the middle of nowhere where Steve changed your life. And now you are also changing his life.

“My pussy sure does feel good,” he smirks at you. His body slams into you, and your back skids across the ground in the most delightful pleasured pain. You owned him. He is yours. And you will do everything to protect him. This stunted man is now yours to protect. He could hide and deny it, but he is yours.

“Your pussy is only for you.”

“Good,” he growls as you arch your back into him. Bringing yourself close to him. Your body stiffens up. Everything builds to the climax. Looking deep into his beautiful eyes, he nods, “Let go, Dovey,” and everything crashes down around Steve. Your velvety walls cling tight to his thick girth, and his sticky heat fills you up.

He lets your body sink to the ground slowly, and he smirks down at you. “You’re so pretty like this. Fucked hard and dumb, and filled to the brim of…”

“Steve Rogers,” you coo. You’d let this man do whatever he wanted to you. He is powerful, scary, intimidating, but to you he’s just your Captain.

“Let’s go home, sweetie. You need a bath. You have leaves in your hair,” he picks out a leaf, holding it up to prove the mess he made. “Plus you smell like dirt. Come on,” he slowly pulls himself out of you, flicking his eyes down to look at your spread legs. “When can we take that thing out of you?”

“Steve! I have only been having sex for a couple of months. Give me at least a year.”

”I love it when you whine, but a full year?” You nod, going to stand up. Wincing as you reach for your panties he really was deep. Body wobbling, and Steve holds you upright, but still keeps your panties out of your reach, and you stomp your foot. “If I have to wait a year, you have to ride back home with no panties.”

”Steve, your cum…”

“Yes, the thought of my cum leaking out of your cunt is part of the appeal of this arrangement,” exhaling quickly, you start walking away from him. “Oh, cutie, you acting like a brat and seeing that run down your leg is turning me on again.”

“Wash me clean, and you can have your pussy again.”

”I wasn’t going to ask,” he gulps, continuing to watch you walk away. You have been the best thing that’s happened to him. The best part of him. “But I’ll always ask for permission, Dovey,” he whispers, knowing you won’t hear him. “Because I love…hearing you beg.”

Steve’s hands squeeze on your foot, and he sighs when you can’t control the sounds that hum out of your mouth. “You’re the one causing those sounds,” your brow cocks up as you stare at him over the bubbles. “Can you be here with me all the time?”

“If you’ll let me suck on your clit underwater.”

You stare at him both confused and shocked. No way was he going under the water for such a thing, nor did you want his face between your legs right now. He starts to move his body from across the tub, closer to you, and you shake your head no.

“Do you doubt my abilities?”

“Not at all. I know you’d die in between my thighs and think it was the best death in the world. But I’d rather you not die,” or have him be where he was wanting his face be.

He blinks once slowly before getting even closer. Looking more like a predator than your boyfriend, “Steve, no!”

“Then sit on the ledge of the bathtub.”

“I’ll get cold.”

“Then dry off and I’ll feast on my pussy in the bed.”

“Can you give me a few more moments in here? Alone?” " He shakes his head no. “Why not?”

“Why the fuck do you want to stay in the tub?” Because you needed to. Did he not get you needed private time sometimes?

“I have something I need to do, and I don’t want you in here,” pursing his lips, he narrows his eyes while watching you. Making you uncomfortable with how hard he’s staring at you. “Stop! Get out, and give me just a moment.”

“What do you need to do that I can’t see?”

“Seriously?” He scoots a bit closer to you, and you push your foot up against his chest, holding him in place. All the while knowing that this would not keep him away from you, “What are you doing?”

“Going to suck on your clit,” like it is the most obvious answer in the world. Shaking your head no, Steve sighs. “You know I could lift you up and make you do whatever I want you to, so why don’t you explain to me what the problem is, and why you don’t want me to touch you right now?”

You take a long look at Steve, sighing before looking down at the bubbles. Steve had done so much to break down your walls. He had made you a completely different person, a stronger person. He had turned your world upside down. Had just been inside of you, but you don’t want his face down there.

“Dovey?”

“I need to shave,” Steve scoffs, trying to push his body towards you. “Steve, stop. I don’t want your face there.”

“Does it look like I care about a little bit of hair. Let me suck your clit.”

“No.”

“Even though you’re pissing me off, I do think I have found the perfect woman. Because you, my darling, don’t put up with my bullshit. How does it feel to be the only woman that has ever tamed Steve Rogers? Don’t,” the timbre of his voice lowers when you cross your arms across your chest.

He stares deep into your eyes as he gets a bit closer to you. Gaze never leaves yours, but he uses a hand to cup your mound. His fingers roll over your entrance as he tilts his head watching you, “It’s not that bad.”

“It is to me, and I haven’t even found the energy to get away from you to shave.”

“Since I’m such a menace to you, let me shave you,” it is a simple statement and said so easily, but the audacity of this man.

“No.”

“You’re being a brat.”

“It’s one of your favorite things about me.”

“I’m a bigger fan of my pussy. Let me shave you. I’ll get it how you like it because frankly, I don’t get a damn. But I also get to see the face of god,” he’s relentless. Ridiculous even. A menace for you. And the way his eyes flick all over your face, and he never once pushes past your entrance, just lazily taps his fingers on it. “It will be so fucking sexy.”

You’re doubtful of that. You also don’t trust that Steve won’t try to devour you, regardless of what you want. “I want to do it, Dove. I will bow down before you and shave every inch of you if that is what you want. I want to be in every part of your life. Even the parts that you find embarrassing. Because all I know is I get to spend even more time with my favorite girl. Please, Dovey. I’m begging you, please, let me shave your pussy.”

“I’ve never done this before,” you sigh, biting at your lip.

“Neither have I. You get another one of my firsts. Just…just sit on the edge of the tub. I’ll be careful,” he wouldn’t stop until you give him what he wants. And there’s something adorably sexy about him wanting to take care of you in the most intimate and simple way. You want him to.

Taking a deep breath you lift yourself onto the side of the tub. Spreading your legs slowly as Steve’s face beams up at you as his eyes drift all over your body. Watching as the suds coast down your soft curves. Consuming you with his eyes alone.

“This is not that bad. But let me take care of you,” he reaches for the razor and runs a smooth hand over your mound. His thumb teases along your clit, and you can’t help but whimper out his name. “Shh, don’t make that sound just yet, Dovey,” sudding up some soap, he spreads it over your skin. Making sure to coat every bit of your exposed skin with the foam, and his hands expertly move the razor over your supple body. Making sure to clean it after every pass.

Even though you know it is killing him, he never makes a lewd joke. He doesn’t slip a finger in, it’s like this is his job. It’s fascinating to watch him. He keeps looking up at you through those inky black lashes making sure you're grading his work. And when he’s not looking at you, his tongue pushes out the front of his mouth in concentration, and you commit this moment to your memory. He looks adorable.

He always does wheng a he’s not trying to be this hard drug lord. There’s a sweetness, and a loyalty to him. This need to control, but also a need to protect and take care of you. You position yourself to lean back more, and he growls, rolling his eyes to look up at you. “This isn’t funny. You’re already torturing me.”

“I enjoy the view,” this big bad drug lord was down on his knees, and just for you. Towering above you, or bowing before you. Submissive only for you, or your fearless dominating Captain. He was all yours.

“You’re a fucking tease, too,” Steve’s hand drops into the water, giving you a clear view of his hard and angry cock under the water. “You’re killing me.”

“I enjoy you from this angle.”

“You enjoy me worshiping you right at the face of god. You’re a sweet little tease. Has her pussy spread out deliciously before me, and making me shave you. Dove, the water isn’t fooling anyone,” you hum as he lets water drip over your body, washing away the remaining bubbles before he spreads your puffy lips out. Keeping you wide open before looking up at you.

“You’re dripping. Coated in that sweet honey because all you can think about is me fucking into you so hard and deep that my sweet little Dovey falls asleep, huh? Do you like me on my knees in front of you, and taking care of you in this way?” You answer by nodding your head. He knew you too well. You’d let him command you because you knew he had these sweet moments ready to remind you it isn’t just your cunt that keeps him obsessed.

“Dove, you’re no longer in the water, and I can’t attempt to deep sea suck on your clit.”

“You are ruining a sweet moment, Steven,” Steve adjusts to his knees, letting his heavy cock rub against your leg, and your legs spread even more, “Steve,” a whispered whine escapes your mouth, and you start going into that space where he controls your every thought and movement. Making everything about pleasing him because you get the utmost pleasure.

“I will try that one day. But you need to be fucked like my sweet little slut don’t you,” your head nods. A mess of words tumbles out of your mouth, and he stands up. Cock and piercing right at your face, and you whimper. Leaning forward you kiss the tip, sticking your tongue out to lick the vein on his cock. Looking up at him through your lashes when you tongue his slit.

“You sure do love Clarence, huh?”

“He loves me, too. Doesn’t he?”

“Clarence loves and adores you,” stepping out of the tub, he turns to you, lifting you up in his arms. He carries you into the bedroom, ripping open the curtains so you can see the woods and the moonlight creating silvery light into your room. Turning to the bed, he sets you on your knees.

“Put your head on the bed, and keep your eyes on me. You’ve teased me for too long,” you do as you're told, receiving a smile, and a soft slap to your pussy, “Such a good girl for me. As much as I love your fight, when you get in this space and will do anything just for this,” he spears into you with such a hard and deep thrust, your body scoots onto the bed.

Fingers cling to the sheets as Steve pulls himself out of you, “And what my Dovey wants,” another sharp thrust has you seeing stars. Stretched out, and that cool metal grazes over your cervix, “She gets,” gripping onto your hips he pounds into your depths.

Such frenzied movements. You aren’t sure if you have ever taken him so fully like this. So deep. So full. So aggressive in his movements. “And I…soon — soon you’ll have that thing removed and I will pump you so full of me that I start growing in your belly. You’ll be so filled with all of me. Something I have never done. You’ll get it all.”

His voice is gravely despite the words coming out of them. He means every bit of it. Making you understand and know that you are his world. Giving you all that he can, and more than he has to anyone else.

“I will do whatever it takes for you, Dovey. Anything to keep you safe. But you will always be mine. There will never be another. No one can ever treat you the way that I do. I own every part of you, all the way down to your soul. We’re bonded together. In this life and the next. I’m yours, but you’re mine. All of you. Every bit of your every being. It’s all mine. All. Mine.”

”It’s all yours,” you let out a scream of pleasure. Trying to get a grip on anything because the build up for the orgasm has you on edge. Your body tenses as euphoria builds up in your body. All the way deep into your soul. The most lewd, but also innocent form of being together. Searing himself throughout your body. And you didn’t even realize just how much you are burning yourself into his world. When he said anything, he meant it. You will always be his first thought.

No one has every had this much of Steve. And he would do whatever it took to keep you safe. The first and last thoughts on his mind are always you. Everything was just you. With your body almost flat on the bed now, he stabs into you, spurting his seed into your warmth and letting you milk him clean.

Losing a bit of himself in the moment, “God, I love…this,” he pants out. Watching your eyes close, and a derpy smile on your face. “I love it.”

You sleep so soundly. Can’t even feel Steve ghosting his lips over your worn body. You never complained about how much that he needs and uses you. You always just let him have whatever he wants. Even if you’re asleep he’s going to make sure that he spoils you with his touch. The only way he can show you how much he loves you, even if he can’t say it.

Not the way he sinks into you, but these moments. The ones where you’re softly snoring, and he’s staring over your body and painting your skin with his kisses like you are the most beautiful work of art. He wants to cover you in his — touch. He is working on it. He wants to give you what you need from him. He wants it more than he wants sleep. And one day he’ll find the way to give you all you deserve.

He didn’t bother closing the curtains and blinds. You love watching the woods outside to fall asleep. Saying that it makes you feel closer to him because it was just the two of you and the creatures.

He blinks, looking out into the distance when a flash of light catches his eye. Staring down onto the forest floor when he slings the blanket off him. Taking a moment to make sure you’re still asleep before he walks out the cabin. Teeth already clenched together as he marches down into the darkness.

Stopping when he squares up against a woman that once upon a time could have looked just like you. Her eyes lifeless as her sight moves from the bedroom window to Steve, “Didn’t bother to put a shirt on did you?”

He glares at her, snapping his fingers in her face when she looks back up at your sleeping form, “I need some money.”

“I told you I wasn’t giving you money,” his voice is quick and final, and she pouts up at him.

“She gets money.”

“Are you fucking serious right now?”

“Oh right, she lets you use her,” every conversation starts the same with her. Always money. Always he uses you. “Does she know?”

“That I paid for a fucking apartment and you trashed it, and got kicked out? No. I told her I would keep you safe. I don’t know what the fuck all that does because you can’t keep you goddamn nose clean. Let me see in between your fingers.”

“Fuck you!” Steve didn’t have to see. He could tell by the state of her, she’s no longer clean. A junkie that had nothing to lose and knew where he lived was dangerous.

“Why are you here, Lark? How did you know about our home?” She cocks up her eyebrow, looking Steve up and done before staring at his brand. “Yes, ours. How did you find this place?”

“I know people. Pussy gets you a lot of things. Ask my sister,” if she wasn’t a woman Steve would have backhand her.

“My patience is growing thin. What the fuck did you want,” she looks back up at your sleeping body, conflicted with emotions at how comfortable and unknowing you are. Did you even realize the shit Steve was into? Or did you just not care? The people that Steve employed? What they could do to you. “Lark!”

“Since you won’t give me money, we’re done here. I’m surprised you left her unattended. Did you remember to lock the door?” A more sinister person would smile, but Lark seems sad. Waiting for Steve to gasp before he bolts back towards the house. The door now wide open, and he sneaks around the room. Checking every dark corner before slinging the bedroom door open. You’re still asleep and none the wiser, but he can’t relax.

Needing to check the bathroom and closets, and keep turning back to you. Still relaxed and dreaming. Unaware of the turmoil that is going through his head at someone having the ability to hurt you. Didn’t even feel he had the right to crawl back in the bed beside you, or even hold you.

“Steve?” You whisper, turning in the bed to look at him. Blinking away the sleep in your eyes, “Baby, get back in bed. Can you close the curtains?”

“Yeah,” he says, telling himself the curtains will never be open again. Looking out into the woods, he wonders how Lark got here. Where she was at and where she was going. She was up to something. She wasn’t alone. He made promises to you to never hurt her, but if it comes between you and her, she will be eliminated.

“Take the sweatpants off, too,” you hated when he wears clothes to bed when you’re naked. As he tosses his pants to the side, they hit the dresser, knocking something into the floor. “The hamper, Steve.”

“Yes, ma’am,” his voice is quiet and solemn, and he doesn’t pay attention to the envelope that floats to the floor. “Let me set the alarm though.”

You’ll never be left unattended. He’d have you with him every second. You were all that mattered to him. “Mmm,” you moan, unaware of what transpired tonight. And even he wasn’t sure, but he would be soon.

Next

Masterlist

Taglist: @tis-thedamn-season @marveloustaylortot @pono-pura-vida @peaches1958 @seitmai @smile1318 @andydrysdalerogers @cjand10 @midnightramyeoncravings @kmc1989 @theinheriteddutchess @annaallicce @feyfantome @jesevans @tittittoee @bananapiedreams @onclouds999 @darkserenity24 @abbatoirablaze @ashychangeling @identity2212 @mrsevans90 @weirdothatwritess @floralwsloki @thestralwriting @ambearsstuff @kandis-mom @hoodiesandicedcoffee @awhoreformoree @nyxbellabarnes @buckybarnesisdaddy @honeyhoneylovelylove

[angryschnauzer]

Look, i'm not saying its something i'll ever write, but if modern day Geralt was a physiotherapist then that would 100% explain the guy that just twisted me into a pretzel and gave me accupuncture for my injured back.

White hair and beard, late 30s, tattoos, thicc, twisting me onto my side whilst telling me to relax my hips and he'll take the weight of my legs and then to push my knee against his waist as hard as i could.

Sir. You were surprised when i stood up a little dizzy. It wasnt a surprise to me.

(And i can use this as an excuse to share my favourite edit Nixakimbo on insta did for me years back)

[otpcutie]

Bucky's Instagram (AU: All In)

I've created this for @buckybarnesevents Build-A-Bucky Bingo, fill: Social Media. I was inspired to make Bucky (from my series The President's Boy) an instagram profile, set after the events of All In.

The two amazing photo edits I've included are by @nixakimbo used with permission <3

♥︎ Also on AO3 ♥︎ My Masterlist ♥︎

[sjsmith56]

A New World - Chapter 1, Lord Buchanan

Summary: A modern young woman suddenly finds herself in a strange medieval world. As an unaccompanied woman she requires the protection of a man to survive, finding it in the enigmatic and handsome Lord Buchanan.

Length: 4.8K

Characters of note: Ileana (named female character described as chestnut haired), Lord Buchanan (that world’s version of James Buchanan Barnes)

Warnings: Assault of female character, threat of violence, courtly language (of a sort), formal language (of a sort), description of preparing a hunted animal for food (it was either that or go hungry).

Author’s notes: Inspired by the photo edits of Instagram artist nixakimbo this story can be found in its entirety on Wattpad and AO3, under my username SJSmith56. It is a complete fantasy concept that initially was supposed to be a “bodice ripper” so just enjoy the ride. It was a lot of fun to write. Series masterlist to come.

🗡️

Ileana looked at her closet trying to figure out what to wear for this blind date.  She had only agreed because she trusted her friend Haydn not to set her up with someone like Jeremy.  That relationship had ended badly when she came home from work one morning to grab her forgotten laptop and she had found him in bed with a waitress from the diner where they ate Saturday morning breakfasts.  Pulling her suitcases from the closet she had thrown everything in there while he tried to convince her the girl meant nothing.  Meanwhile the poor girl looked like she would rather be anywhere but naked in a bed watching the guy she just slept with say she meant nothing.  Over the next few weeks Ileana had stayed with Haydn in her spare room until she found her own place, a small one bedroom flat.  Haydn's boyfriend Sam had convinced her to set up the blind date with his friend Bucky.  Who named their son Bucky?

She stopped and took a breath, realizing she was over thinking it again.  Bucky could be a nickname.  Haydn said he was attractive if a little brooding and being friends with Sam meant that he likely had manners as Sam wouldn't hear of a man mistreating a woman.  Finally Ileana pulled out a lacy white top to go over her camisole and a longer lacy black skirt.  Pulling on her black boots she was satisfied that she looked acceptable.  Feminine but confident.  Grabbing her coat and purse she ran out and tried to hail a cab.  She didn't want the guy to pick her up so she said she would meet them at the restaurant.  Now she was running late and it was at least a twenty minute walk.  No cabs stopped for her so she started walking.

About ten minutes into the walk Ileana became aware of footsteps behind her.  Grasping her purse tighter she crossed to the other side of the road at the next corner.  The footsteps followed her.  Turning the following corner after that they still followed her.  Seeing a convenience store up ahead she ducked in and went to the back.  Peeking over the rack she saw a man in a black hoodie with a green hood walk by peering in.  For the briefest of moments she thought he saw her but he kept walking. 

"Now what do I do?" said Ileana to herself.  "He could be waiting around the corner for me."

She dialled Haydn on her cell phone.  "Hey, could you ask Sam to come and get me? I couldn't get a cab and started to walk.  There's a guy following me.  I'm at a convenience store on Maple and First."

"We were wondering what was keeping you," said Haydn.  "Hold on."

She could hear Haydn talking to Sam.  There was another voice, male, soft but definitely sexy. 

"Bucky will come and get you," said Haydn. "He said don't leave the store.  You'll know him as he's wearing a dark blue suit with a navy shirt, no tie.  His hair is longer and he has a beard.  Very, very handsome."

Ileana hung up and browsed the aisles.  She nodded at the clerk who after a few more minutes asked if she was going to buy anything.

"I'm just waiting for a friend," she said defensively.

"No loitering," he replied pointing at a sign beside the door.  "Sorry, you'll have to wait outside."

She tried buying something but the clerk refused to ring it through and ordered her out.  Stepping out into the night air she felt exposed and tried to stay as close to the door as possible but the clerk kept giving her dirty looks.  With a sigh she moved away from the door and into the shadows. 

"You have a light?" said a voice next to her.

Turning Ileana saw it was the man in the black hoodie with a green hood.  He smiled a dirty smile at her and looked her up and down.

"Sorry, I don't smoke," she replied and walked back towards the door.

"Hey, don't go turning your back on me," he said with an edge.  "Talk to me.  I can be nice."

"Please, I don't want any trouble," she said over her shoulder.  "I'm just waiting for a friend."

Before she left the shadow he put a hand on her shoulder and pulled her back.

"Come with me now or I'll hurt you," he said, showing the knife he held in one hand.

Before she could react he gripped her wrist hard and started dragging her to the side of the building.  She pulled herself away and fell backwards, hitting her head on the sidewalk.  Her head felt like a bell had been rung inside her head.  Within seconds Ileana was aware of nothing.

******

She felt someone fumbling at her chest and realized someone was feeling her up.  Opening her eyes she slapped away the hand on her breast.  Two grimy looking men in black and green clothing were bent over her, one feeling her breasts the other lifting her skirt.

"Get off of me," she yelled, kicking at them.  "Help!  Help!"

They laughed and kept going.  Tearing her top and camisole off of her the first one said he would hold her down while the second one had a go.  In desperation she began biting and received a punch to the head for her trouble.  Just as the second was about to uncover himself she heard a horse snort and the sound of someone jumping to the ground.  A metallic sound followed like the sound of a sword being pulled out of it's sheath. 

"Leave the lady alone," said a man's voice and the two men stopped fearfully, looking back at the intruder.

"M'lord," said the first one.  "We found the lady like this and were just tending to her."

"I doubt that," said the swordsman.  "I heard her cry for help.  Now stand up or I will run you both through this moment."

Ileana clutched her tattered blouse to her chest and sat up as the two men stood and faced the swordsman.  He was tall, dark haired with a beard and wore a suit of blue leather with a dark blue tunic underneath.  His breathing was heavy as if he struggled to keep his temper with the two men.  He had a second sword attached to a belt that hung lower and she got the feeling he could fight with either hand or both.  As the two would-be rapists grovelled before him he looked directly into her eyes with his stunning blue eyes.

"Are you injured?" he asked.  "Lady...?"

"Ileana," she replied.  "No, but they have destroyed my blouse and my undergarments."

He nodded and turned his attention back to them.  "I should dispatch you both to your maker," he said.  "It is within my rights as lord of these lands to do so.  However the lady is not injured and I do not wish her to witness what I really want to do to you.  Both of you are banished from my lands.  If I see either of you here again I will execute you summarily.  Begone with you."

He dismissed them and watched as they trudged away before sheathing his sword.  Going to his horse, a black giant of a horse with the longest mane Ileana had ever seen he opened a saddle bag and brought out a white shirt.

"I'm not in the habit of carrying ladies clothing with me but you should be able to wear my nightshirt," he said, handing it to her then turning his back so she could put it on.

It was soft and silky.  She marvelled at its feel as she slipped it over her head.  There were no buttons and it did expose quite a bit of cleavage but it covered her and that is what was important. 

"Thank you sir," she said. 

He turned and looked her over.  "Lord Buchanan," he said bowing.  "At your service."

She offered her hand and he helped her up from the ground.  Keeping her hand in his he touched it briefly with his lips.

"You are not of this world," he stated.  "Your clothing is from a future world.  How did you find yourself here?"

"You know of future worlds?" she asked puzzled.  "You don't seem surprised."

"It happens," he replied, shrugging slightly.  "How did you come here?"

"I was attacked by a man and pulled away," she answered.  "I hit my head and blacked out.  When I came to those two were pawing over me."

He nodded.  "We receive "visitors" in various ways," he said.  "Sounds like once you come to in your own world you will return to it.  In the meantime I will take you into my care.  These woods can be dangerous for an unaccompanied woman.  There is one problem.  I am one day into a tour of my lands and I must continue on or risk others attempting to seize them.  There are holders we will come across tomorrow that you may stay with or you may continue with me.  The accommodations will be very basic but I assure you that even if we share a bed I will honour your chastity.  That is my word as Lord of these lands."

He looked at her with all sincerity and she found herself trusting him and his word.  He motioned for her to come closer to his horse and he calmed the horse when it snorted at her.

"Magnus, be kind to the lady," he said softly.  "She will ride with us for a time and you must be a gentleman to her."

He reached into another saddle bag and brought out a carrot.  Breaking it in half he gave one piece to Ileana and showed her how to hold it on her flat palm.  Magnus lowered his head over her hand and took it gently from her.  She reached out and stroked his cheek and he leaned into her touch.

"He likes you," said Buchanan with a smile.  "He is very particular.  You should be honoured."

"I am," she said.  "He is magnificent."

"Here, you give him another piece," he said, placing the second piece into her hand.

Magnus took it gently and again leaned into her touch as she stroked his cheek.  Lord Buchanan offered her his help to mount the large horse.  Then he mounted behind her and took the reins.  His closeness unnerved her at first and she found it hard not to lean into him.  He must have noticed because he smiled before he spoke.

"You can lean into me if it is more comfortable for you," he said.  "The closer we are the more comfortable a ride it will be.  It's been a while since I had a woman ride...with me.  I will protect you from falling."

She caught the hesitation in his voice and realized he almost said something entirely different.  It was her turn to smile that she had obviously had an effect on him.  She did lean into him and found she liked how his body also leaned into hers as he rode.  She looked at his clothing and saw how finely the pieces were made even though they were made for life on the road.  He wore dark leather gloves and she was almost overcome by a desire to see his hands on her.  Dismissing the thought she looked up at him for a moment and he smirked.

"Keep your eyes forward, Lady Ileana," he said.  "Or you may find yourself on your arse on the ground.  A sudden turn is all that is needed to throw one of us off."

As if to prove his point Magnus stopped dead and they both were wrenched from the comfort of their position.

"What is it, Magnus?" he asked, suddenly looking around.  "What do you sense?"

The horse snorted and pawed the ground.  Lord Buchanan switched the reins to his left hand and turned the horse in a circle, trying to see what had spooked his horse.  He put one arm around her.

"When I tell you I want you to lean forward," he said closely to her ear.  "Bend forward as closely to Magnus as you can.  Grasp his mane firmly if you must to keep on."

An unnatural sound from some creature nearby broke the silence and she could feel his body tense as he gauged when to make his move.

"Now," he said loudly, as he dug his heels into Magnus' flank.  "Magnus, go!"

Ileana leaned forward grasping the horse's mane as it leaped straight into a gallop.  Buchanan leaned over her as he spurred his horse on away from the danger.  After several minutes at a full gallop he allowed the horse to slow down and finally to a stop.  Magnus' sides were heaving and Buchanan jumped off to the ground, taking his horse's head in his hands and touching his forehead to the great black beast's forehead.

"Good boy, Magnus," he said, softly.  "You flew us away from danger.  My brave steed."

He began to walk, leading the horse along the path.

"Should I get down?" asked Ileana but he waved her away.  "Please, let me walk with you."

He stopped and helped her down.  She walked beside him, glad she still had her boots on.  His pace was steady as was his manner of walking.  He seemed like a man sure of himself.  He looked down on her and cleared his throat.

"Tell me about yourself, Lady Ileana," he said.  "I understand the women of future worlds work instead of staying strictly in the home looking after their children.  Your husband's all approve of this?"

"I'm not married," she said,  "but many husbands do approve.  Some even stay at home looking after the children while their wives work."

He scoffed.  "That does not seem right to me," he said.  "To expect a wife to toil away in factories or sweatshops while he enjoys the laughter of small children is criminal.”

"How much do you know about future worlds?" asked Ileana, wondering what he really knew.

"The Sorceress has told us of great factories that bellow smoke and flame while workers toil inside in the heat making great metal poles to build tall buildings that soar into the sky," he said.  "Or the merchants of food gathered under one large roof, with tables and shelves laden with every food one could ever want.  What is it that you toil at instead of bringing children into the world?"

"I work in a creative space," she said, trying to figure out how to say she designed websites to a medieval man.  "We have the ability to search for information from a device we hold in our hand.  I help create that information, how it looks, much like an illuminated manuscript in a book is bright and eye catching.  What I create must be colourful and attractive."

He raised his eyebrows, then gave her an answer she wasn’t expecting.  "Would that be on the internet?" he asked.  "The Sorceress has told us of it but I find it hard to believe."

"It is," she said.  "The internet is like a library you can hold in the palm of your hand but it holds the information of the entire world in it."

"You would rather do that than be a mother," he stated. 

"I didn't say that," she said.  "I do wish to be a mother but I need a husband first.  Some women go ahead without a husband but I would rather have someone in my life than try without.  My mother divorced my father when I was a child and it was hard for both of us making a go of it without him."

"Divorce?" he said.  "Women can divorce?  In this world only the husband can divorce if the wife is unfaithful or doesn't produce a son."

Ileana stopped dead.  "You're kidding right?" she exclaimed.  "A man can be unfaithful but a woman can't?  You also know it is the man whose sperm, or seed, which decides if the child is a boy or a girl.  If a man doesn't have a son, it's his fault, not hers."

She was angry now.  He stood and watched her anger play over her face, amusing him. 

"Most men have a wife and several mistresses," he stated.  "Only the wife's child is recognized as legitimate.  He would have too much respect for his wife to ask her to do some of things he does with his mistresses.  As for the other, I find that hard to believe."

"Fuck," she said. "I've been dropped into the paternalist world of hell."

"I'm shocked you would know that word," he said.  "You must have been a mistress to know it."

She slapped him, hard.  Then she cried and walked away from him.  The realization hit him that he had probably insulted her and he ran after her.

"Lady Ileana, please," he said anxiously.  "Please forgive me.  I forget that your world likely has different beliefs and customs than ours.  Obviously the word mistress insulted you and for that I am truly sorry.  Please, don't go.  I am enjoying your company and I'm learning from you.  I would like to know more."

She stopped and looked up at the sky then turned around and faced him.  His handsome face was full of regret and he had his hand out in friendship.

"In your world I probably would be seen as a mistress," she said.  "I was engaged to be married and for six months we lived together to raise money for the wedding.  A month ago I had to run home to pick up my computer for work as I had forgotten it.  When I walked in I could hear laughter in the bedroom so I opened the door.  There was Jeremy fucking a waitress, a serving maid, in our bed...IN OUR BED.  I packed my bags and I left him.  I had my heart broken that day.  Then today, this evening actually, I was meeting friends and I couldn't get a taxi to the restaurant so I walked.  A creep followed me and even though I tried to stay inside a safe space I was told to leave because I was loitering.  He attacked me of course and then I woke up here to two scumbags trying to rape me and YOU LET THEM GO!  Like it was my fault I woke up in a forest with no idea of how I got here.  Now you're giving me all this bullshit about how a woman's place is in the home, having and raising children but if she doesn't produce a son she can be divorced.  That's medieval bullshit.  I want to wake up.  I want to go home back to what is familiar to me.  I want..."

She broke down and really started to cry, sinking down to the ground.  He kneeled beside her and put his hand on her shoulder.  From inside his jacket he produced a silken handkerchief and offered it to her.  She wiped her eyes and her nose and slowly calmed down.  Then she looked up at him and he suddenly kissed her, gently at first, then firmer and more passionately.  He pulled away and stood up, facing away from her.

"Forgive me," he said, loudly. "That was inexcusable of me.  I have pledged to honour your chastity and that shouldn't have happened.  When we reach the holder's cottage tomorrow I will leave you there and send word to the king to send a carriage for you.  Come, we need to ride some more before we reach shelter for the night."

He helped her back onto Magnus, then mounted the horse, took control of the reins and urged the great horse on.  Not once did he speak or look at her and he took great care not to lean into her unless he couldn't help it.  When they reached their shelter, a small stone hut, he told her to go inside while he tended to the horse.  She saw him take the saddle bags down and pull out a handful of horse feed out of one of them, then hand feed it to the horse.  He removed the horse's saddle, blanket, and bridle and leaned his forehead against the great horse's forehead.

"Go, find what you need," he said, "but be careful and return here by sunrise, old friend."

He carried everything in then went to find kindling and firewood.  Building a pyramid of wood he pulled a flint out of his jacket pocket and struck a knife against it, generating a spark on a piece of dried moss.  As it caught he blew on it until it flamed then he placed it into the wood and blew some more until it caught in a rush.  Going to the wall he took a bow and a quiver of arrows that hung there.

"I will be back," he said simply.  "Keep the fire going but I shouldn't be long."

He came back later with a pheasant and a rabbit.  He skinned the rabbit and cleaned it outside.  There was a long metal skewer with a handle on the end.  Threading the rabbit onto it he then placed it in a bracket over the fire and asked Ileana to turn it while he prepared the pheasant.  Taking it outside he plucked it, cut off its feet and head then cleaned its insides out.  He gathered up the remains and threw them away from the hut.  He threaded the bird onto another long skewer and sat opposite Ileana turning it. 

"You seem to know your way around preparing food," she said.  "I'm surprised a lord would know this."

"I wasn't always a lord," he said.  "I was born in an ordinary family, son of a tenant farmer, then I became a soldier.  I became a lord at the pleasure of my king after I helped him reclaim his heritage."

"Who is your king?" she asked.

"Steven of the Broken Lands," he said.  "When his kingdom was stolen from him, his old nursemaid smuggled him out of the castle and left him with my father, who had been a soldier with his father before he became a farmer.  We grew up as brothers and when he reached manhood we raised an army to recapture his realm from the Mad Titan.  It took a long time but we prevailed and he has been king for ten mostly peaceful years.  As thanks for our sheltering him and for fighting by his side he made me Lord Buchanan and awarded me my lands.  My father lives there still, tending his vegetable garden where he is happiest."

"What is your given name?"

"James Barnes," he said quickly then looked away briefly.  "My wife never called me My Lord, she always called me James.  When she said it, it sounded like honey coming out of her mouth.  My world ended when she died in childbirth and our son joined her six hours later."

"I'm sorry," said Ileana.  "You must have loved her very much."

"I did," he replied, looking steadily at her.  "I misled you when I said most men have a wife and mistresses.  I never wanted mistresses as she was enough for me.  We worshipped each other with our hearts, minds and bodies.  When I kissed you that was the first time I had kissed a woman in three years."

He looked away towards the door, still open though the darkness loomed.  Then he turned back to Ileana and spoke softly.

"You are my Elena," he murmured, his eyes lit up by the flames from the hearth.  "Her equivalent from another world.  I was attracted to you the moment I saw your face.  It's like she is walking with me again.  It's unfair to compare you, I know.  We will share the bed tonight but I promise on my honour and to the memory of my Elena that I will not violate your trust.  It gets cold in these huts at night and we will only have the fire, our body heat and Magnus' saddle blanket to keep us warm.  Do you trust me?"

Without hesitation she said yes and he was satisfied with that.  Using his knife he pulled a piece of the rabbit off and tasted it.  From inside his boot he produced another knife and pulled another piece of the rabbit off and offered it to Ileana.  They ate in silence.  Ileana thought she would gag at eating it after seeing him skin and clean it but it was tasty and it warmed her up inside.  He stood up, then closed and bolted the door, returned to rotate the pheasant.  With his knife he cut a piece off and tasted it then took her knife and cut a piece off for her.  Like the rabbit it was tasty and warmed her inside.  Between the two of them they ate everything until the bones were clean.  Gathering them up in his hand he opened a door to a room in the back.

"This is the privy," he explained.  "To relieve yourself and to throw our bones into.  It's over a cliff so it doesn't attract predators.  There is nothing to clean yourself with after so you may want to sacrifice some of your lace skirt if you're so inclined.  If you do I would beg some of it myself."

He threw the bones down and closed the door.  He went to another corner where there was a sink and showed her the pump.  He removed his gloves, jacket and shirt then lifted the handle several times and a stream of clear water came out.  He let it pour over his hands then cleaned his face and shoulders.  Ileana noticed his lean and muscular body.  She also noticed his left arm was badly scarred.  He saw what she was looking at and faced her directly so she could see it completely.

"The Mad Titan almost took my arm the day of the final battle," he said.  "The King himself saved my life, taking the Mad Titan's head with the help of one of our allies.  The Sorceress was able to restore the arm's function but not it's appearance.  I have full use of it so for that I am glad."

He stepped back to let Ileana have use of the pump.  She stopped and bent over her lace skirt, tearing off the bottom foot of it.  She handed him half of the strip.  Smiling he dried his face and shoulders with it, his eyes never leaving hers.  She raised the handle of the pump until she got a stream of water.  Wetting the edge of the lace, she wiped down her face and neck.  Then she tore a six inch portion off the lace and used the privy.  When she returned he was adding wood to the fire to keep it going all night.  The bed was little more than a burlap sack filled with wood chips.  He placed the saddle blanket on it, then suggested she get on the wall side of it.  He put his shirt on but not his jacket explaining he naturally was warm bodied and didn't want to sweat into the jacket during the night.  Ileana faced the wall and he curled up behind her, placing his arms around her.  His closeness was disconcerting but he explained their body heat combined should be enough to sleep.  Either she was incredibly tired or he was right because she fell asleep within minutes.

For James Barnes, Lord Buchanan, sleep took longer to come.  He could smell her dark chestnut hair and the faint scent of perfume from her neck.  He wondered if he should have revealed her resemblance to his late wife but it was done and couldn't be taken back.  The next morning, after they arrived at the Archer's hut he would leave her there and send the Archer's oldest son to the King for a carriage.  She would be safe with the King.  For a moment he wondered if the Baron would be at the castle as that could make him change his mind about sending her.  For tonight he could pretend it was Elena in his arms during her monthly bleed.  That would make it easier to honour his pledge to this strange woman from a future world.

Chapter 2>>

Series Masterlist

Please like, comment or reblog if you liked this chapter.

[no-not-without-you-blog]

Whumptember 29th: Losing Something

Prompt by @comfortcap Dividers by @firefly-graphics

Photo Edit by @nixakimbo

You sat down on the couch in your new apartment, exhausted from the full day of moving, but happy that most things were now in their place. Bucky was putting a few things away in the bedroom while you were about to order some takeout. Bucky walked down the hall and came to stand in the living room.

“Sweetheart, have you seen a wooden box? It’s like this big.” He held out his hands, motioning the size of the smaller box, smaller than a size of paper but quite a bit taller.

You shook your head. “No, sorry baby.”

He cursed under his breath, anxiously running his hands through his hair, and walked back down the hall quickly, seemingly more panicked at the loss of the box. “What’s in it baby, I can help look.”

“Nothing, just…just don’t worry about it. I’ll find it.” He closed the bedroom door and you heard him shuffling through boxes again. If it was bothering him that much, you figured it wouldn’t hurt to have a second set of eyes looking for it. You stood up and decided to go look in your office/studio space. You were a painter and childrens book illustrator. You had been able to get a 2 bedroom apartment and Bucky insisted that you needed your own studio space. You were excited to have the space. It had a large window with soft natural light.

You walked into the space and looked around for where it may be. You hadn’t unpacked much in here yet so you started to move some canvases and boxes of paints around. After about ten minutes of looking around, you just had the closet to go through. The first few boxes were just more art supplies but the box on the bottom was labeled for the bedroom and had been mistakenly placed in there. You pulled it out to the middle of the room and pulled the tape off. Sitting right there at the top of the box was the small wooden box he was looking for.

“Buck! I think I found it!” You yelled down the hall and heard him setting down what he was searching through. Curiosity took over and you pulled the box out and sat down on the floor. As you were opening the lid, Bucky walked in and saw that you were holding it. 

“Baby, wait!” But it was too late. You had already opened it enough to see what was in it. Inside was a stack of random scraps of paper, some bigger than others, but they all had something in common. Each one bore a doodle that you had made for him. There must have been over 100 of these small quick sketches. Right on top was one that you recognized. It had been the one that you had first drawn for him. You were both sitting on the subway and you were trying to get out of a drawing stump. Sitting right across from you was this gorgeous man who was engrossed in whatever book it was that he was reading. Inspiration struck and you quickly sketched him, his long hair tucked behind one ear, his face fully enraptured in his novel. You were terrified to do it, but when you had finished the drawing, you walked over to him and stood in front of him. As he looked up at you, you thought your heart was going to claw its way out of your chest. You offered him the drawing and he was so shocked and impressed with it, he asked you out for coffee as payment. The rest was history.

The fact that he had kept so many, if not all, of the little sketches that you had so casually drawn for him over the past year was enough to make most people fall to pieces. For those who wouldn’t have teared up for that, would have for the presence of the ring box right next to them. 

“I was going to wait till Christmas. I had a whole plan to put all the sketches in an album and give it to you. But honestly, I have had to stop myself from asking you every day since I bought the ring.”

You were crying at this point and he went to sit on the floor behind you, his arms wrapping around you. 

“If you want me to get down on one knee, I will. But we’ve never been real traditional. I will say this. That moment you handed me that first sketch was the best day of my life. I was having such a shitty day and all of the sudden there was this angel standing in front of me and she handed me this little drawing of myself. My whole world shifted in that moment and it’s never gone back.”

He pulled the ring box out of the larger box and held it in front of both of you. He audibly swallowed and opened it to reveal a simple but slightly vintage inspired ring. Your breath caught and you bit your lip. His words revealed that he was nervous and had started to choke up slightly.

“The truth is, I don’t want my world to shift back. Having you in my life has been the best thing I could ever ask for. And I didn’t even have to ask for it. You gave me your love willingly and without reservation. But I do have to ask you this now. You gave me your heart, but will you also give me your life? Will you give me your good days and your bad ones? Will you give me your midnight dance parties and your days filled with tears and heartache? Because I want it all, baby. I want to be here for the ups and the downs. I want to watch you grow old and I want to help you put your socks and shoes on when you can’t bend down anymore. I want to have babies with you and watch them grow up. 

So, I’ll ask you now. Will you give me your heart to hold onto forever? Because I don’t think I could give it up for any time shorter than forever.”

You were sobbing at this point. Not a cute, gentle cry, but full on ugly crying. You could barely get a word out as you nodded your head and choked out. He let out a breath of relief and kissed the side of your head. You spun around in his arms and wrapped your legs around him. Your hands went to both sides of his face and you kissed him fiercely. After a few moments he pulled away slightly, showing that you were both now crying. He pulled the ring out of the box and carefully placed it on your finger. 

“I love you.” He said to you as his fingers ran gently over your now adorned finger.

“I love you too. Always.”

Taglist:

@annasrefuge @chrisevansdaughter 

[foxgloveprincess]

Seem Like Someone Else

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Natasha Romanoff x GN!Shapeshifter Reader [First Person Narrator]

Word Count: 3,060

Summary: Pain has been the only thing you’ve felt for so long. Until Bucky and Natasha teach you to feel something different.

Warnings: Emotionally Constipated Reader, Plus-Size Reader, Body Horror (shapeshifting that backfires—disfigurement, no blood, inability to talk, pain), Undefined/Poorly Defined Relationship, Mentions of Abusive/Traumatic Past, Inconsiderate Behavior, Pet Names (sweetheart). Minors do not interact (18+).

A/N: This just sorta started spilling out of me one day while I was eating breakfast. Based on quite a few uQuizzes I’ve taken which have told me I change myself for other people. It’s an experiment in a way. And I don’t really know how to define it. All I know is that I want to share it with all of you. Bucky edit in the banner by nixakimbo (on Instagram). The picture in the banner is not indicative of the reader’s skin color (there is no description of appearance in the fic, except to allude to plus size).

I love feedback, so go ahead and reblog/comment if you want. No permission given to copy, translate, rewrite or post my work, at all. I cross-post to my own AO3 account.

I don’t do tag lists, so follow @foxglovefics to sign up for notifications on my fics.

This is not Beta’d, so all mistakes are my own.

Please DO NOT click ‘Keep Reading’ if you are not 18+ years of age or if you are uncomfortable with the pairing themes/dynamics/warnings, thank you!

I go through about 25 transformations a day. Comes with the territory of being a shapeshifter. But it’s bled into my personality, too. Changing the smallest aspects of myself in everyday interactions, hoping to smooth the conversations into something palatable for whoever I’m talking to. 

Sometimes I wonder if the face I return to at the end of the day is really even my face at all—if the person I am is truly myself. 

It’s stopped being a strain—practically organic at this point. Just like the shifting of bones, cartilage, and flesh to form me into a different look. Easy as breathing. 

The transformations used to hurt. I remember that. When it started in middle school, I would scream out in my room at night when my flesh turned against me and morphed me into some other person. Lady B always cradled me to her chest and hummed a solemn tune until I calmed and made the painful transition back to myself. 

Now I change like water flowing from the pitcher to the glass. Know the exact angles. Contorting myself until the change mutes to a small pop. No longer a cacophony of crackles and popping joints. I’ve perfected the art form, transforming in a singular moment from one person to the next.

For most people, it’s a party trick. Entertainment. For my job, it’s a clever evolution of espionage. It’s helped me go far, climbing my way into the Avengers organization and solidifying my skills as indispensable. A way I can support and protect myself. Not everyone accepts a freak in their neighborhoods. 

“Make me into a woman,” Tony requests, lounging back on his sofa with a tumbler of amber liquid in his hand. 

Like I said, entertainment. 

My body bends and twists—rather, the body I’m wearing—until I picture it clearly in my head. Tony Stark, billionaire, playboy, philanthropist, woman. A deep breath fills my lungs and—Pop! 

It takes a moment to orient myself before my audience. Party goers still milling about the Tower, lingering until the very last moment. I breathe once, ensuring the use of lungs in my body and the beat of my heart—learning from experience to never underestimate the importance of internal organs. 

But there I am, Tony Stark’s spitting image in female form. 

I wait for the next request as comments circle about the voyeurs. Words of intrigue and disbelief whispered from ear to ear. I can’t let them know I’m tired. Most missions do not exhaust me as much as this. Face after face for people to peer at and dissect. I touch my nose, drawing back my hand to check for blood—none yet, a good sign.

“That’s enough,” a voice calls out. “Leave them alone.”

Turning over my shoulder, Bucky glares at the group surrounding me. Perched on the sofa with Natasha at his side, they make the most threatening couple in the room. Lovely, by all means, but deadly—like twining sprigs of belladonna. 

“Come here,” Natasha beckons from her place under her partner’s arm. She gestures to an empty seat beside them. 

Unable to resist the call, I follow and sit. My favorite drink sits upon a coaster, ready and waiting. Though I refuse to let surprise color my expression.

The group disperses, off to look for the next spectacle. I sigh in relief and let my body sink into the cushions, cells buzzing from exertion.

“You were at your limit,” Bucky comments, a hint of disappointment in his tone, “you should have told them to fuck off.”

“I know my limit,” I reply, releasing the tension keeping me in Tony’s face. No longer intent on performance, I let my body shift in gradual motions. My bones clicking back into place, figure softening and rounding, until I sit before them as myself.

“You’re not here for their amusement,” Bucky insists, fists clenching together as he leans toward me. “Why do you let them do that to you?”

“Why not?” I answer, tilting my head to the side. “They like it.”

“But do you?” Natasha gazes at me with her piercing green eyes. 

And I cannot meet them. Because I know the answer, so does she. It doesn’t need to be said, but to meet her gaze would be to admit it. 

“You don’t need to—”

“I know,” I interrupt, face scrunching at the force of my statement. 

They say no more on the subject, keeping me company throughout the rest of the evening. Their presence surrounding me in a protective barrier that no one dare penetrate. Even when curious gazes drift in my direction, the assassins at my side dissuade them of any notions to approach.

“Thank you,” I relent when the party comes to its full close, the remaining attendees escorted out of the building. “It was nice to be myself for most of the night, as disappointing as it may be.”

“Who said you were disappointing?” Natasha asks, her fingers tipping my chin down to see her curious expression.

My shoulders shrug and I step away from her touch. “Thanks again, anyway.” A hasty retreat proves wise as final rounds of farewell take place, whispers following after me toward the elevator. 

“You know,” Natasha says a few weeks later, approaching me at the table while I eat my lunch, “it’s in our blood.”

At the cryptic comment, I raise a brow, pausing with my sandwich halfway to my lips.

“They forced it into us so hard that we can hardly tell how long it’s been there, melding with us, shaping us.” She sits across from me, arms folded on the wooden tabletop and leaning closer to me. “That involuntary notion to always fit. To break yourself a thousand different ways until you can be whoever they want you to be.”

I swallow and push away my plate, no longer feeling the pang of hunger when my stomach turns. “Why are you saying this?” My mouth dries, bile climbing up my throat.

“Because I see you,” she replies, simple as that. As if there can’t be any other explanation in the world. Her hand reaches out to my arm, squeezing the flesh in a comforting grip. “I know what it’s like.”

My eyes meet hers, emotion swelling deep within me and threatening tears. I grit my teeth, fighting against them to say, “What difference does that make?”

“Maybe not a big one. We’re spies, it’s what we do,” she says with a shrug, hand still resting on my arm. “But it doesn’t mean it’s who we have to be.” She pats my arm, standing from the seat. She steps closer, standing over me until I look up. “Or that we have to be alone.”

She walks off and I watch her leave. Each step she takes flaming the desire to rush after her and feel whatever it was that she inspired within me. That swelling rush of clarity that struck me at her concern. Something that felt strikingly like peace. 

Bucky doesn’t approach me as directly. He doesn’t say as much either. He simply finds me after a mission one day and hands me a bottle of my favorite juice. No comments or inquiries about how the mission went. Scaring off anyone who even thinks to approach.

He stays nearby—not hovering, but close and quiet, like a shadow.

He sits beside me while I write up my report. Trying to recall every detail of the mission. Every face I had to don and how many files I was able to copy and scrub. And he doesn’t leave until I drift asleep on my couch, watching my favorite movie and wrapped in a warm blanket. 

The next morning, I wake to him preparing me breakfast in my kitchen. Surprise doesn’t cover the jolt that spikes through my blood, body changing on instinct for an attack. 

“Hey,” he says, turning with his hands held up in placation, “you’re alright. I’m not here to hurt you.”

“Then why are you here?” I ask, incredulous at his presence. Surely Natasha would need him more. Or at least expect him so early in the morning.

“I wanted to make sure you’re okay.” 

My mouth gapes open, his reasons incomprehensible. Am I some sort of pet project to them? Another amusement to occupy their time? A new way to treat the freak, to toy with me until I’m left shattered by their true intentions.

“You need to leave,” I utter, not understanding the words I say until they’re already hanging in the air between us. “Now.”

Bucky’s brow pinches in concern. He walks forward, skirting around my table and reaches out. I step back. 

“I don’t want to leave you alone,” he confesses, fidgeting with his metal arm and pulling his sleeve over the vibranium. 

“I’m always alone,” I reply with a shrug. “Don’t worry about it.”

He doesn’t move a muscle, staring at me. 

Shoulders tense, that nigh impossible to sense strain on my cells plucks in discomfort. Still wearing someone else’s face, then. Casting a glance to the mirror across the room, I swallow hard. Never worn a team member’s face before—especially not one like Natasha’s. Entranced by her features, I can’t bear to look away for a moment, wondering what it’s like to live in this skin. Everyday, a masterpiece. Fingers touch her cheek, feeling the softness and bone structure beneath.

“Friday?” Bucky calls out, the A.I. replying immediately. “Could you get Natasha in here, please?”

“No,” I cough in alarm, mind unfocused and flickering with images of people. Only one misplaced thought and—Pop!

It takes a moment to realize that the voice screaming in agony is my own. Body an indiscernible monstrosity of misshapen limbs and skin. I choke on air, ill-formed inside as I am out.

“Shit, sweetheart,” Bucky curses, hands hovering over this body I’ve created. “You gotta calm down, shift back.”

A gurgle is the only reply this throat can make, pain lancing through each cell of my being. Yet tears still form in my eyes, dripping down contorted cheeks, hands unable to wipe them away. So much pain, it blinds and burns. Legs unable to collapse from the intensity of it all, the bones fused at awkward angles and supporting me with nothing more than the inability to bend.

“What happened?” Natasha exclaims, rushing into the room in a panic. 

Bucky explains, hands raking through his long hair, pulling at the strands, fear rolling off him in waves. “What do we do?” he asks, looking between the two of us.

Natasha says my name softly, approaching on cautious feet. “Can you shift back?”

An almost imperceptible shake moves my head back and forth, unsure I can focus on anything with this pain consuming every thought. 

Her eyes dart around the room, getting closer and closer. Inhaling deeply, she begins to hum a song. Familiar and melancholy. Her arms wrap around me—as best they can with the disfigurement of my body. Her hands stroke over my twisted spine, a tilt of her head beckoning Bucky to join us.

His warmth ensconces me from behind, surrounding me. My eyes close, fighting back against the onslaught of pain and concentrating. The tension releases slowly, organs shifting and reforming properly before my bones crack and I collapse for the rest of the transformation. 

A gasp punches from my chest, body flooded with endorphins. 

“Are you okay?” Bucky asks, kneeling beside me and wiping the sweat from my brow.

I nod, delirious. 

Natasha settles beside her partner, resting a hand on his shoulder. They both look to each other, concern flashing in their eyes. They begin to rise, a slow trepidatious movement.

“Stay,” I whimper, reaching blindly to clutch at their legs, “Please.”

“Of course,” Bucky soothes, the tension in the air easing. He bends low and with the gentlest touch he can manage, lifts me from the floor. “We’re not leaving you.”

It happens on the next mission. My arm taking a life of its own. Refusing to turn back to my true form once the quinjet takes off from its landing pad. I stare at the foreign limb—veiny and grizzled. The tension of my transformation melts away. But it does not leave. 

“What’s wrong?” Natasha asks, taking the seat beside me. 

Without words to convey my confusion, I raise the unfamiliar digits of this hand for her to see. She takes it in her own, the touch light and careful.

“How do we fix this?”

“Lady B used to break it when I was younger,” I reply with a furrowed brow. “Something about the pain kickstarted the transformation back.”

“We’re not doing that,” she refuses, sitting back but keeping my hand in hers. “We’ll figure out another way.”

But nothing comes to mind on the journey back to the Tower. I’m left with the strange limb as I grab my gear and exit the jet, disturbed by this turn of events. My feet tread a curious path, seeking the one person I can think of to help.

“Bucky,” I greet, hiding my arm behind me. 

He smiles, standing from the couch and setting aside a thick book scrawled with some foreign language along the spine.

Still in my combat suit and not in the slightest prepared to change until my body gets back to normal—or at least the same figure all over—my attention settles upon the place where his metal arm should hang. It’s missing. 

He fidgets under my scrutiny, reaching up to his shoulder as if trying to conceal the sight of his empty sleeve. A faint thought tickles at the back of my mind, but I shake it away. No time for innocuous matters. 

“I need you to break my arm,” I announce, meeting his eye. “Please.”

His veneer cracks at my nonchalance, smile dropping from his lips. “Come again?”

I sigh, bringing the unsightly limb out from behind my back. “It won’t turn back.” The fist clenches.  “I need you to break it, so I can make it.”

Bucky’s lips open, wide eyes shining in confusion and the barest hint of betrayal. But I can think of no other way and—

“He’s not doing that,” Natasha bites from behind, shouldering past to wrap her arms around her partner and peck a kiss to his lips before turning back to me. “Why would you suggest something like that? After everything?” Hurt shines in her eyes, too, and I swallow around the lump that forms in my throat. 

We stand in silence for a long moment. I know the reason why I’m asking him. Why I told her on the jet. Why I’m coming to them out of every person inhabiting the Tower.

“I trust you more than anyone,” I reply in a wavering whisper. “There’s no one else.” My eyes squeeze shut, head turning away at the confession. Vulnerability more foreign and unsettling than the limb that refuses to reform to my true shape.

A soft sound of realization echoes from the pair. They stand still for a moment before approaching on wary, hopeful steps. 

It takes all night, but we find another way.

“You’re certainly quiet tonight,” Tony says, sidling up beside me and nudging his elbow into my side. “Don’t want to be center spotlight?”

“No,” I reply. A sip of my drink burns and tickles at the back of my throat. Scanning the crowd, I turn away from the man, but he’s not done with me quite yet. 

“Your besties not here yet?” he asks, leaning a smidge too far into my personal space. 

I sigh and move away, hoping he’ll get the hint. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Another sip burns, but satisfies the ire bubbling in my belly. Keeping it from climbing up my throat. 

He hums and drinks from his own glass, stepping aside to give me some space. His brow quirks, examining me like a specimen in a petrie dish. A sensation to which I’ve grown accustomed—with my upbringing and all. 

At least his eyes don’t sparkle with the expectation for amusement tonight, like I’m the main attraction. 

“Can I help you with something?” I inquire with the tilt of my head. 

“Maybe,” he says, smacking his lips. “I’ve been trying to puzzle it out, but can’t quite get the big picture.”

My teeth clench, jaw ticking, waiting for the deep dive into my past that always seems to come hand-in-hand with a scientific mind like his.

“Are you, Nat, and Bucky a thing?” He sets his empty glass down and gestures to me. “And if you are, what kind of thing are you?”

I remain silent, taken aback by his thought, but unable to answer. I couldn’t define it if given the chance. Natasha and Bucky might be able to, though. Yet none of it reveals itself upon my face, a mask of indifference holding strong.

“She’s our partner,” Bucky responds walking up with Natasha on his arm. Looking as elegant and deadly as they are. 

“Partner?” Tony looks between the couple and I, running a hand over his mouth.

“Yes,” Natasha replies.

The billionaire keeps looking, as if the truth will reveal itself without another word spoken. But in the end, he asks, “Romantic or vocational?”

“Yes,” she purrs, wrapping her arm through mine and leading me away without another glance back. When the temptation to gauge Tony’s reaction creeps up my spine, she senses it and soothes, “Don’t worry about him.” Her path guides us over toward a bench and sits us down, taking her place to my side and setting the super soldier on my other. “He means well, but always tries to place labels on things he doesn’t understand.”

Bucky’s fingers weave through mine on the bench, pressing his warm palm to my knuckles. Distracting me from Natasha.

“You look lovely,” he whispers in my ear. 

“Perfect, even,” Natasha adds, resting her head on my shoulder. Though I don’t know how she hears him. 

I don’t question it. Don’t need to. It just makes sense. In this loud and chaotic world, where everyone tries to drag me in every direction, where I must reform myself again and again for the pleasure of others, where they ask only for me—they just make sense. 

And I feel at peace.

[the-iceni-bitch]

Let Me Trace the Lines

Kinktober Day 17: Stigmatophilia (tattoo and piercing kink)

Pairing: tattoo artist!Curtis Everett x tattooed and pierced fem!reader

Words: ~1.3k

Summary: You’re new tattoo artist is too hot.

Warnings: explicit language, explicit sexual content(fingering, f receiving oral sex, public sex), unsuccessful use of softeners, SMUT!!! 18+ ONLY!!

A/N: This was originally supposed to be Ari but then I saw the edits by @nixakimbo and I couldn’t help myself.

I am no longer doing taglists so if you want to stay up to date on all the latest filth, follow my sideblog @the-iceni-library and turn on notifications!

What an unbelievably stupid woman you were.

You kept repeating it in your head like a mantra, splitting your focus between that and the thought of going to church with your grandmother as you tried to ignore the man who was sitting between your legs.

It had seemed like a good idea at the time, everything was planned out so perfectly. You’d researched the artists in the area thoroughly before landing on Curtis. You fell in love with his use of bold lines and vibrant colors, and his reviews were all glowing. Then when you reached out to schedule this piece he was such a goddamn peach of a man, you just felt even better about your choice, even though the thought of having a big, rugged, gorgeous man ink up your hip and the inside of your thigh could end up biting you in the ass. But it wasn’t like he was going to be that ridiculously good looking in real life anyway, right?

Wrong.

You weren’t sure why you didn’t back out as soon as you laid eyes on him, that beautiful, earnest smile shooting right through you and making your knees weak. And then he started talking you through your expectations for the piece, how many sessions you wanted to take, and making sure you knew he was fine breaking any time if you needed, all in that rich, warm baritone and you just sank into the chair with a dopey grin on your face.

So there you were, lying all spread out as he dragged the needle gun over the crease of your hip, nothing between his face and your increasingly wet pussy but a strategically placed towel. Why did you decide to get this piece in a spot that pretty much ensured you weren’t going to be able to wear panties?

He ran his tongue over the ring in his lip as he concentrated and you had to bite back a moan. Maybe afternoon tea with grandma? None of your softeners were working, though, the feeling of his breath fanning over the inside of your thigh as he leaned close to check his work making you throb. This man checked way too many of your boxes, the tattoos and the lip piercing and the earrings and the glasses. Fuck, grandma grandma grandma grandma…

“Hey, you need a break?” Your eyes shot open when he spoke to you, swallowing thickly when you met those piercing blue eyes and trying not to squirm under his gaze. “You’re shaking. If it’s starting to be too much we can call it.”

“What? No, I’m fine.” You honestly had barely even felt anything the whole time, your tiny little pain kink not helping the situation at all. “Can hardly even feel it.”

“You sure?” He bit his lip and you cursed yourself for a fool again, your cunt throbbing when he rested his hand on your thigh mere inches away from where you were pulsing with need as you just nodded at him. “Ok, just, lemme know if you need me to stop.”

“Will do.” You dropped your head back on the chair when the gun started buzzing again, trying to keep your toes from curling when he bent close to focus after rolling his head on his shoulders.

This was so dumb and absolutely unprofessional, what kind of hard up slut got this worked up over having someone give them a tattoo? He was edging closer to where you were trying so hard to keep your slick from dripping onto the leather of the table, you had to get this done in one session, if you came back and had to have him set up between your legs again you were going to have a goddamn aneurysm.

His body shifted as he worked his way down your thigh, and you sucked in a sharp breath when his hand brushed against the edge of the towel. Everything seemed to slow down when the cloth fluttered to the floor, you trying unsuccessfully to snap your legs closed as Curtis reached feebly for the towel as you both cursed under your breath.

“Shit, sorry!” He hissed as he ducked to chase after the towel, his face getting dangerously close to where you were exposed and making you try to crawl back up the chair. “Oh, honey.”

“What? What’s wrong?” You noted the sudden change in his voice and it made you freeze.

“You are all worked up, so goddamn wet and pretty.” He leaned back to peek around the privacy screen and make sure no one was too close before ripping his gloves off. “No wonder you’re shaking so much. Gonna help you relax.”

“Oh god.” Your body jolted when he dragged his thumb over your slit, melting into the chair when he teased it over your clit before sliding his middle finger into your weeping channel. “Curtis…”

“Shh, I know, pretty girl.” He hooked his finger and you had to bite your lip as your eyes fluttered closed, your back arching as you clenched around him hard. “Gotta help you calm down so we can finish.”

“Yeah, ok.” You let yourself melt into the chair as he continued stroking your walls slowly, humming to yourself when he started pressing gentle kisses over the thigh he hadn’t been working on.

When he slid the second finger in you had to grip the edge of the chair painfully, rocking your hips to meet the movements of his fingers as he found your sweet spot. He groaned against your skin at the feel of your squeezing him, his lips moving closer to your sex as he brought you closer.

“God, you really needed this, didn’t you hon?” He rubbed his bearded cheek against your hip with a purr, his eyes fixed on the way your pussy was flexing around his fingers. “And here I thought you were gonna leave me hanging.”

“What?” Your voice was breathy with want as he just kept working you over, dragging your head up so you could watch him brush his lips over the curve of your hip.

“Like you don’t know how fucking hot you are.” God, he sounded so fucking sexy when he growled like that. “Walking in here in that little sundress all inked up with that nose ring.”

“I mean, yeah, I know.” You couldn’t help but grin a little at the praise, running your tongue over your bottom lip as you fixed your eyes on his. “Didn’t realize you knew. Don’t you work on chicks all the time?”

“Sure, most of them don’t let me see their pussy during the first session, though.” He winked and grinned back at you, fuck, he was dangerous. “Tits sometimes, but never such a sweet little cunt.”

“It’s not like I did it on purpose.” You whined when he slid in a third finger, tossing your head back and bringing your hands up to work on your breasts while you tried to keep the noises to a minimum. “I’m not mad about it, though.”

Curtis gave you one last dark chuckle then leaned forward and wrapped his lips around your clit, your juices soaking his beard as he sucked softly. The feeling of his lip ring rubbing right against your swollen bud did it, your body vibrating with the strain of your pleasure as your release gushed over Curtis’s lips and chin, the fact that his face was right up against you thankfully muffling the absolutely obscene wet noises he was drawing out of you as he helped you ride it out.

“Fucking perfect.” He murmured, dragging his tongue over your pussy to clean you up after he pulled his fingers out, licking them clean too before putting on a new pair of gloves and picking up the gun. “This is gonna go so much smoother now that you’re relaxed, we’ll have to remember that for your next piece.”

[wiypt-writes]

Rawhide

Ch7. Heart And Soul

Episode Summary: The team are playing a waiting game as they prepare for Hydra to show their hand. Meanwhile, something is bugging Bucky…

Episode Warnings: Bad Language words. Smut (NSFW, 18+)

Episode Pairings:  Alpha Steve Rogers x Omega Reader.

W/C: 6k

A/N: One of the pics in the MB (the Bucky one) is an edit done by NixAkimbo which I asked permission to use before she left Tumblr. She’s still on Insta, so please check her out. And if anyone is able to message her for me (I can’t, as she doesn’t follow me, please tell her I thank her for letting me use it!)

Rawhide Masterlist // Main Masterlist

Chapter 6

Despite the troubling news, you slept well that night, wrapped in the security of Steve’s arms. You woke the next morning with an uncontrollable hunger, so you gently untangled yourself from the koala bear that was draped around you and you headed downstairs.

Twenty minutes or so later, a huge stack of pancakes was on the side of the counter and you smiled as you felt Steve’s presence.

“Hungry, ‘Mega?” his low timbre hit your ears as his strong arms circled your waist.

“Yeah, like, really hungry.” You shrugged, twisting your head round to press your lips to his.

Steve chuckled, “well, it smells good. Almost as good as you.”

At his comment you felt your cheeks heat and you scoffed, “down, boy!”

Steve laughed and stepped away, moving to the coffee pot. All of a sudden, you felt his jovial nature slip into a more brooding one and you took a deep breath.

“Steve?”

“Sorry, I was just thinking about everything we found out last night.” He leaned against the counter, running his head over his beard. “I need to speak to Fury, but there’s also a lot that needs doing on the farm.”

“So delegate,” you looked at him, “I’m sure a few of us can manage the chores around here whilst you do what you gotta do.”

Steve looked at you before he chuckled, “I keep forgetting you’ve worked a ranch before.”

You popped a shoulder, “I used to run it, actually. I was the one with the organisation skills. Colin, well, he was more of a do-er.”

Steve pondered for a moment as he took a sip of his coffee. With a nod, he stepped forward and set the mug down at one of the places you’d set at the large breakfast counter. “Okay, then in that case I’ll leave it in your capable hands and tell Bucky, Clint, Sam and Pete they’re at your disposal. The rest of us can speak to Fury.”

“Sure.” You nodded, “but first, you need to eat as well.”

Steve merely cocked a brow at you and sat down as you took your seat, Commando tucking into his bowl of kibble as the pair of you attacked the pancakes. Steve watched with a little curiosity at just how much you wolfed down, you ate more than him and that was saying something.

Your appetite finally subsided, you pushed your plate away and gave a contented sigh. Just as the pair of you had finished, the door opened and Bucky walked in, followed by Sam.

“Mornin’” Sam tipped his hat to you both and you smiled.

“Hey, coffee's on if you guys want some.”

“Don’t mind if I do…” Bucky grinned, heading to the pot. “So, Steve, what’s the play?”

“I want you two and Pete to stay here, help Y/N on the ranch. We did nothing yesterday so there’s a bit to catch up on.” Steve ran his hand over his beard, “I’ll get the others to meet me at Starks and we can call Fury, tell him what we figured out and see what he wants to do.”

Bucky looked at Sam, who gave a shrug, “what you lookin’ at me for? I just do what he says, only slower.”

Steve rolled his eyes as Bucky simply raised a brow, sipping from his mug. After a little pause he inclined his head slightly, but you could sense he wasn’t entirely happy with the plan. That said, to his credit, he didn’t argue.

Less than an hour later, you kissed Steve goodbye as he climbed in his truck, Commando once more remaining with you, although this time by choice much to Steve’s disgruntlement. Sam merely sniggered at the fact the large dog seemed so attached to you, but out of the corner of your eye you saw Bucky merely looking at you, with a blank stare that made you a little nervous.

However, you pushed it to the back of your mind and the four of you spent the morning sorting out the barn and giving care to a few of the longhorns who needed their feet looking at. Bucky and Sam, being the two who had the most physical strength wrestled the large animals to the ground whilst Peter helped you apply the topical treatment and spray that Banner had left. Once that was done, you herded them on foot to a paddock a little further away and made your way back to the barn.

“You feeling okay?” Peter looked at you and you wiped your brow, nodding.

“Yeah, just a little hot. And I’m hungry, again.” You mused.

“Well, it is lunchtime.” The Beta grinned, “my favourite part of the day.”

“You mean other than breakfast and dinner time?” Bucky raised a brow and Peter shrugged.

“You missed out snack time and supper,” Sam folded his arms across his chest, “and when he gets a juice box!”

“Oh, leave him alone.” You reached up and ruffled Peter’s hair, “c’mon, I’ll rustle us something up.”

“There’s no need,” Bucky shook his head, “we can all sort ourselves.”

You frowned, “I don’t mind.”

“I said it’s fine, Y/N.” Bucky’s tone was firm and it made you recoil a little.

“What’s got into you?” Sam looked at him, and Bucky shook his head, but you could feel a myriad of confusing emotions barrelling off him.

“It’s okay, Sam, I’ve probably overstepped. I’m just gonna go up to the house, I’ll see you in a while.”

You hastily made your retreat, blinking back the tears in your eyes. Up until now you’d always gotten on with Bucky. Yes, he could be a little withdrawn at times, moody even, but he’d never shown you any animosity.  Commando followed you up the steps and through to the kitchen and you held the fridge open, trying to figure out what you wanted.

Half an hour later, after a huge tuna sandwich followed by a bag of chips and four cookies, you settled yourself in your new found favourite spot in Steve’s cabin, the little window seat and suddenly felt a pang in your heart that your Alpha wasn’t there. You felt a strange urge to surround yourself by his smell, so you grabbed one of the throws off the sofa and tucked it around you as you snuggled down surrounded by the cushions. As soon as you’d done that, Commando hopped up, laying his head on your lap.

“I know, I’m being ridiculous.” You stroked his soft fur, “Bucky’s probably just tired, huh?”

Commando replied my giving a large yawn and you chuckled, before you erupted into one of your own. “Us too, huh. Well, guess a little nap can’t hurt anyone.”

**** “So you think they’re gonna supercharge the Alphas they have?” Fury repeated, his face stony as he sat at a table in HQ, flanked by Coulson and Hill.

Steve nodded. “Y/N made a good point, Rumlow is egotistical. We know that newly presented Alphas are unpredictable and very strong and he wouldn’t want to risk anyone else in that army challenging him for his status. Plus, they left the Omega Genome behind and we know they need both parts to make the conversion work.”

“The obvious question is do we think Erskine told Hydra what they wanted to know before they killed him?” Bruce asked and Steve took a deep breath.

“The fact he turned up dead doesn’t leave me with much hope.”

“Cap’s right,” Fury nodded, “Hydra wouldn’t have killed him otherwise, because they needed him.”

On the screen, Fury glanced at Hill, then Coulson before he gave a shrug. “Okay, Cap, so how you wanna play this?”

“Well, we think Shield should take what we have learned to the WSC.” Steve spoke, having agreed this with the rest of the team earlier, “I know that Hydra have Hawley in their pocket, but the rest of the WSC so far have given us no reason to doubt them. We need to try the diplomatic route first, see if we can avoid an out and out war.”

“Agreed,” Fury nodded, “I doubt it will do much good…”

“But at least we tried.” Steve shrugged.

“What about your insider?” Natasha asked, “anything from them?”

“Word has it that Hydra’s troops have been stood down.” Fury shrugged. “Which leads me to conclude that they’re using diversion tactics, trying to confuse us so we don’t have a clue what they’re up to.”

“Good plan, it’s working.” Tony sniffed and Fury took a deep breath.

“Hill is due to make contact with them later. At the moment it’s just ears to the ground.

Steve took a deep breath as the room fell silent. “Okay, I think we’re done for the day. Keep us up to speed anything you find. The rest of us, stay alert but until further notice, it’s business as usual.”

Fury nodded, “I’ll be in touch.”

 “Long John Silver, pleasure as always.” Tony sniffed, saluting Fury as he leaning back in his chair, his boots resting on the table. Fury shot him a look, before the screen went blank.

“Well for now it’s a waiting game.” Steve broke the silence, “Natasha and Clint, stay close to Fury, make sure we’re in the know, so to speak. Tony, keep Happy up to speed and have him monitor the usual channels.”

With a final round of mumbled acknowledgements to their Captain’s orders, the team all rose and filed out of the room.

**** You felt Steve’s presence before you saw him. The unease you’d been feeling all day evaporated almost instantly as his scent invaded your senses. Immediately, you looked up from where you were sat in the office, filing and sorting out a few invoices and receipts. Seconds later, he strode into the barn and through to the office, where he paused, his broad form filling the doorway as Commando jumped up at him, his large bushy tail wagging.

“Hey,” Steve leaned against the frame as he scratched the dog behind the ears, a soft smile on his face.

“Hi,” you smiled back, “so, how did it go?”

“As well as can be expected. Have you been in here all day?”

“No, we dealt with the longhorns this morning and then, well, I had lunch and took a nap then came out to make a start on all this whilst they went out on a ride.”

“You missed a trail ride for paperwork?”

“Well someone has to do it, Steve!” you snapped, before letting out a sigh as you rubbed at your temple.

“Doll?” Steve questioned, his brow furrowing a little. “You’re uneasy. What’s going on?”

“Nothing, just you know, all this stuff with Hydra.”

“Y/N.” Steve’s voice was stern and you took a deep breath, before you looked at him.

“It’s probably nothing, but Bucky’s been…well, a little moody. He was just quiet all morning and then when I offered to make lunch he was snappy. I think I’ve done something to upset him, so I just tried to stay out of his way.”

Steve took a deep breath as he pushed himself off the door frame and walked towards you.

“Moody how?” He perched on the edge of the desk and looked down at you.

“Just snappy,” you shrugged, “and I can sense he’s brooding about something, but what…I don’t know.”

“I’ll talk to him.”

“No, don’t, like I say, it’s probably nothing.”

“Maybe, but he shouldn’t be making you feel uncomfortable.”

You shrugged, “I’m likely just being overly sensitive. It’s an Omega weakness…”

“No, it’s not a weakness, at all.” Steve shook his head. “It makes you you.”

You gave him a small smile and wrinkled your nose, “but anyway, it’s not important. I’m sure he didn’t mean it.”

“He gets a little broody from time to time,” Steve nodded, “probably pissed I left him here. I’ll talk to him.”

“Please don’t make a fuss,” you blinked, “It’s really not that big of an issue.”

“No, but it’s made you feel uncomfortable, and I don’t want that. This is your home, as much as it is his.” Steve replied, calmly but firmly. “Now, how about you finish for the day and we head back up to the house. I’m going to brief everyone on what happened and you should be there. You’re part of the team now.”

“Yeah, okay.” You nodded. “Erm, can I make dinner for everyone? I’d like to.”

“Whatever you want, ‘Mega. And if Bucky doesn’t want it, then you have my full backing to launch the plate at his head.”

“And waste food?” you looked at him, and Steve chuckled at the affronted expression on your face, “no way, I’ll eat it myself.”

“Huh, you still hungry?”

“Starved, mind you, I’ve been eating all day,” you shrugged, before you grinned, “must be the additional exercise I’m doing.”

Steve laughed and shook his head as he stood up straight. “Maybe I should ease off you, give you a night’s rest.”

“Well, I can stay in my cabin tonight, I mean…”

“Hey, that was a joke,” Steve shook his head, “besides, even if we’re not…well, whatever, you can still stay with me. In fact, I’d kinda like you to do that all the time.”

You frowned, looking up at him as you felt his wave of nervousness. “You want me to move into the Ranch House?”

“Well, only if you’d like to. I mean, if you…”

You bit your lip. You’d lived in your own space for a good few years now, and had enjoyed the solitude. But everything inside you was screaming now to surrender that, to make your home with your Alpha.

Yet, he wasn’t your Alpha. Not fully. You weren’t bonded. And right there and then, for some reason, that suddenly bothered you.

“What is it?” Steve asked a little, and you shook your head.

“It’s nothing, errr, can I think about it? I mean, it’s not a no, I just…”

“No, of course, there’s no pressure, at all.” Steve shook his head. “If you don’t want to…”

“No, I do, I just…”

“Words, Omega.”

“We’re not bonded,” you blurted out. “Colin and I bonded before we lived together and-“

“You want me to bond you?” Steve replied, his voice even, despite the sudden spike you could feel to his hormones.

“I don’t know,” you whispered, “I like the idea of it.”

“Well, until you more than ‘like’ the idea, it’s not happening. I want you to be sure.” Steve gently shook his head.

“How will I know if I’m sure?” you whispered.

“How did you feel with Colin?”

“It just kinda happened,” You shrugged. “I don’t remember it being this conscious decision that either of us made, but it didn’t feel wrong. God, sorry, I’m not explaining this very well.”

“Somethings you can’t explain, Sweetheart.” Steve shrugged, “like the tie we seem to already share without the bond.”

You looked at him for a moment, “What do you mean?”

“I spoke to Thor yesterday, about what happened when we…” Steve paused, “he thinks that we might, errr, we might be Soul Mates…Jesus that sounds so corny out loud.”

“What do you mean, Soul Mates? Like suited for one another?”

“It’s a little more than that. A bond shared between two Soul Mates is everlasting, it can’t be broken, not even by death. It’s a Soul Bond. Again, this is all conjecture. He can’t remember ever having seen it before.”

You blinked, your mind processing what Steve had just told you. There was no denying that whatever there was between you was special. It had to be to be so strong after such a short period of time, and before you had both bonded.

But the idea of the whole Soul Mate thing, being an actual, physical and tangible thing…well, you weren’t quite sure if you actually believed that or not.

“Sweetheart?”

“Yeah, sorry, I was just thinking.” You shook your head before you closed the laptop and stood up. “Shall we head back?”

“C’mere.” Steve spoke gently, reaching out for you. You obliged and stepped into the space between his legs, your hands falling to his shoulders, “don’t think about any of that, please. I shouldn’t have mentioned it. It’s probably a load of crap.”

“It’s fine, honestly.” You shook your head. “And I’m glad you did tell me. Full disclosure, remember?”

Steve gave a chuckle as he raised his eyebrows, “touche.”

You smiled as you dropped a kiss to his lips. You meant for it to simply be a quick peck, but as you made to pull away, Steve’s arms circled you possessively, his lips seeking yours out. His tongue was soft and warm as it flicked against your bottom lip, before tangling effortlessly with yours. You could sense the desire rolling off him, and it heated you from your very core outwards, radiating through every cell in your body.

“Alpha…” you mumbled against his lips as his hands slid down to your ass, “you really wanna do this here?”

“Yup.” he grinned, and in a flash he stood, hauling you upwards. You squealed as he pivoted, depositing you on the desk. You fell back on your elbows as Steve leaned over you, his arms either side of your body, caging you in.

As you held yourself up, his lips locked on yours, his tongue diving into your throat. His hands went from caging you in to the flies of your jeans whilst you wrapped your booted feet around his narrow hips, attempting to toe one off at a time. Working one free, it fell to the wooden floor with a clunk and Steve grinned against his mouth as his fingers hooked into the waist band of your faded denims and panties.

Quickly with a bit of force, and with a gasp from your lips, the heavy material was down your hips and off your legs. Taking your remaining boot with them, Steve tossed them aside and you sat up slightly, your fingers working at buckle on his belt.

The clink and clank of its weight hung at the leather loop as you worked his flies, your fingers quickly making work of the button and zip, your right hand dipping inside his own waistband to grasp him.

“You eager, ‘Mega?” His voice was a soft, sultry growl against your lips, his nose brushing yours and you smirked a little.

“I believe you started this, Alpha.” A short grunt left his lips as you pulled him free, his cock heavy and thick, fully erect in your hand. One hand fisted in your hair, the other slipped down between your legs and you gasped as his fingers felt between your folds and found your nub. He pressed and you let out a groan of an "oh" at the feeling. His nose rubbed along your neck before he nipped at your jaw, sending a fluttering jolt to your inner walls. Your head tilted to the side and his teeth grazed over your neck, lingering a little on your mating gland and a shiver descended over your entire body. Your hand that held him dropped to between your legs as you pumped him once, twice and a third time. Your free hand wrapped around the back of his neck fingers scratching at the base of his hairline. You pressed the tip of his cock to your hole, wetting his head as his lips again slotted over yours, tongues and teeth clashing all the while his fingers and thumb still played you like a silver string guitar.

“Please, Alpha.” Your voice is was a needy whine.

His reply came in the thrust of his hips, his fingers sliding between your hood and his shaft. You were stretched and it was glorious. Then his fingers fell away and he gave a final press of his thumb while filling you to the hilt.

“Fuck,” your head fell back in satisfaction as his hips moved back and forth, slowly but deeply.

"Yeah, 'Mega," Steve replied as you squeezed him. "You feel so good," he ground out as his weight settled in his thrusts, his hands grasping your hips. His eyes bore into yours and you felt your body tingle as he began picking up his speed. You wanted what he was giving but you hadn't asked for it. He just knew.

It had never been like this with Colin. And the realisation of that should have filled you with guilt, but it didn’t. Instead, you felt nothing but a sense of completeness, like Steve was the missing piece to your very being. You had power over this Alpha, and the mere thought of that was enough to send you into overdrive, knowing that you could reduce him to his knees after being together for such a short period of time, it was a rush. A heady rush.

"Harder, Steve," the sound of his name breathily leaving your lips in the middle of a pant sent shivers over his skin and you felt the bumps across his neck, his whole body no doubt covered in them.

His eyes were dark, near black and you shivered. He pulled out of your warmth and you turned, quickly slipping off the edge of the desk your belly flat against the wooden grain. Your arm stretched over the desk in front of you. Papers, pens, whatever the hell else was in the way went scattering all over. Your hands were led flat against its surface and you were able to just barely wrap your fingers around the opposite edge. You were soaked and Steve slid right back in, his balls tapping your clit as he thrust into you. His hands grabbed at the rounded flesh of your ass as he pressed his chest down towards you. It was a near black out in a way, your mind numb to nothing but Steve and his scent, the felt of him inside you. Again, like nothing you'd ever experienced before. You could do nothing but conform to him and you found him conforming to you, once again bending to your needs without an utterance. “I love you,” his teeth nipped at your ear and you gave a groan as his beard scratched at your skin, his hips snapping back and forth. "I love you," you replied near breathless. “Mine…” his lips latched onto your neck, and you gave a loud keen of delight as he sucked at your skin. You managed to reach up and run your hand through his beard, over his ear and to the back of his head, holding him there. "Yes," you moaned.

You could feel yourself climbing higher and higher, the fog completely clouding your mind as he continued, his thrusts now fast, just deep enough to hit that spot inside you over and over. "Alpha...." you started to cry out as that dam was ready to break. “Come for me, ‘Mega.” His breath was hot on your neck and you felt your stomach starting to tighten. You gave him what he asked for, your walls squeezing around him as you fluttered with orgasm.

His hips sped up, as he ferociously chased his own end. His hands gripped your waist tightly whilst he slammed harder into you, stilling with as a loud groan, almost a howl, ripped from his chest. And then he nipped your neck, right over your now faded bonding mark from Colin.

It wasn’t deep enough to seal the deal, but it was enough to break the skin. No sooner had the sharp pain registered with your senses you felt an overwhelming sense of guilt and shock emanate from Steve as he pulled back. And then, that guilt and shock gave way to a wave of pain which washed over him "Fuck, I’m so sorry," he panted as he slipped away from you, quickly tucking himself back inside his jeans. "Oh Doll, sweetheart, I'm so sorry."

You pushed yourself up and turned round. Half naked and now facing him, your hand went to your neck as you felt the small trickle of blood against your hot skin. Your shirt felt to your hips as you stood, the dots of blood on your palm already dry. You took a step to him on shaky legs and he stepped back. “Alpha…” you carried on towards him and stumbled a tad, your head a little light from the excretion and Steve quickly wrapped on arm around you as you steadied yourself. “It’s okay,” your chest heaved as you looked into his eyes. He stared back at you with those sad and pained eyes, their blue shade now purely visible where black lust had consumed him. "I...." His nose sorrowfully dipped to your check as he nudged you. “Stop, please.” You whispered, your hand creeping into his soft hair at the back of his head, as you repeated your earlier assurances, “it’s okay.” He hadn't a word to say, rather he just softly kissed your wound and backed away, gathering your pants and boots. With a soft, silent movement he handed them to you and you dressed yourself as Steve quickly gathered the scattered stationery items from the floor, piling them back on the desk. You flopped onto the chair to pull on your boots and watched him, as he gave a sigh, his large hands resting on the desk. His shoulders slumped and he hung his head. He was ashamed, and it was killing you to see and feel. "Alpha....." you called out to him. "Steve...." His eyes slowly rose to look at you. "Please." “I almost lost control, I mean, so did lose control!” He exclaimed, shaking his head, “fuck, I…”

“Stop!” Your voice was loud, “stop it!” He obeyed and glanced at you, and you shook your head. "I love you," you whispered as you reached across the desk and cupped his bearded cheek, "I truly do." "I didn't mean to, I.. if you only knew how hard that was."

“I do,” you assured him, “I felt you, I felt your pain and struggle.” Your hand remained against his cheek, his beard soft in your palm. "I feel it every time you touch me. When you kiss me. When we...." "It gets harder and harder every time." He admitted. "Its been hard since I first saw you. I don’t understand why, I’ve never lost control, I just-“

"I don’t understand it either, but we're in it together and to be honest, to me, that's all that matters in my mind."

A silence fell over you both and you rose to your feet, walking round the desk towards him. He turned to face you and you reached for his hand.

"Hey, you guys in here?" Sam's voice sounded, interrupting your conversation. "Oh, there you are," he smirked as he came around the corner of the wall.

Steve looked at you quickly and then back at Sam. "We were," he cleared his throat, “just finishing up some of the paperwork.” “Yeah, sorry we were finishing up the paper work.” “Ah-huh, that what they call it nowadays?” Sam smirked and you felt your cheeks heat. “What’s up?” Steve asked and Sam simply chuckled. "Horses are sorted for the evening and we got some chow on. Pete made chili," he nodded towards the main house. “Oh, I was gonna make that.” You couldn’t help the little whine of petulance and both Steve and Sam looked at you.

“Yeah well Buck was hungry,” Sam scoffed, “and we all know what a nark he gets when his stomach ain’t full. Mind you, he’s had one on him all day.” “I noticed.” You sighed and Sam shot you an apologetic gaze. “Don’t take it personally.” “We’ll be right with you.” Steve nodded, and recognising it for the dismissal it was, Sam gave you both one last smug smirk before he left. “Let’s go eat, huh?” You looked at Steve. He gave you a soft smile, before he pressed a kiss to your lips and you were pleased you could feel him calming somewhat.

Together you made your way back to the house, hand in hand, and when you crossed the threshold you felt Steve fully relax as the energy from your friends surrounded you both. You each took your seats, Peter scuttling about as he set the bowls of chili out with the topping fixings scattered in little side dishes around the table. Sam stuck a beer in front of you both before taking his own seat next to Bucky. His mate seemingly still cranky just looked at him before settling into his meal.

As you ate, the members of the team who had met with Fury told the rest of you what had happened. It didn't settle with you, but what else were you to do. Steve had to have sensed your slight discomfort as his hand found yours in your lap. “Don’t worry,” he looked at you, “we’ve got everyone alert. If Hydra make another move we’ll know about it.”

You took a deep breath, and for some reason, something more pressing hit you in that moment; hunger. Your appetite still wasn’t sated. “Pete, is there anymore?” You asked a little hopefully, and he nodded eagerly. “Good?” “Yeah it’s great, and I’m still hungry. I’ve been eating all day.” From across the table, you heard Bucky scoff. His discomfort rolled off of him in a heady scent that smell sour to you. You recoiled a little and Steve looked at you, then his head slowly turned to Bucky and you heard a snarl roll in his throat. The table fell silent as the two Alphas locked gaze. You had no idea what was going on but you didn't like the looks the two best friends were throwing at one another. Steve stood, his chair scuffing the floor, "Don't Pal." “I think that’s our cue to leave,” you heard Banner mutter and seemingly everyone else agreed.

The kitchen diner was filled with the sounds of chair scraping as everyone stood to make a quick exit, and Sam hesitated.

“Steve, don't hurt him," he sighed. “Don’t worry,” Steve turned to look at the mild mannered Beta. “I just want to find out why he has a stick up his ass about my Omega all of a sudden.” With a final look at Bucky, who was still glaring at Steve, Sam followed the rest of the team out, leaving the three of you alone. “Steve…” you laid a hand on his arm. “Go upstairs, Y/N.” “But…”

“Now, Omega. That’s not a request.” You couldn't help the whiny whimper that came from you as you obeyed your Alpha. It was a pull to comply and one you couldn't resist despite the training you'd been getting. Steve’s eyes tracked you as you headed up the stairs and then he turned to Bucky. “Out with it.” "You've lost your God damned mind." “Why do you think that?” Steve’s tone remained calm, his hands resting on the buckle of his belt. “Can’t you see? Jesus, Steve! You’re… you know what, forget it.” Bucky went to walk off and out the door but Steve wasn't going to let him get away that easily. As he passed, Steve’s hand pulled on his shoulder. Only Bucky was quick too and he rounded on his friend. With a snarl, he shoved Steve hard in the chest. “Buck, what the hell has gotten into you?” Steve exclaimed as he pushed back, causing Bucky to stumble off the porch, his ass hitting the dirt. From across the yard, the team turned, and immediately they started back. The fall seemed to jolt Bucky out of whatever it was and he stood, his shaking his head as he held his hand up. “I’m sorry, I just… shit, Steve, can’t you sense it?” "No! Whatever it is, clearly I don't."

Both Alphas stared at each other as the team gathered round, none of them quite sure what to do. Steve could sense their confusion, they’d never seen him and Bucky argue like this before.

“Your Omega…”

“What about her?”

“She’s in a pre-heat, Steve.”

“No, she’s…I’d know.” Steve shook his head, “that’s…”

“Look, it’s making me feel funny and I’m bonded, so…” Bucky stepped off the porch and turned to him, “my guess is you got a couple of days, tops.”

Steve frowned, as he considered what Bucky had just said. And, as he stood there, things slowly slid into place. Things had certainly heated up between the pair of you, and your hunger had been off the scale. You’d also become far more interested in the little space he had in his living room by the widow seat, your favoured spot filled with cushions and blankets you liked to snuggle in to nap or read…

“Shit.” He sighed.

“Yeah, shit!” Bucky shook his head, “we don’t need this, not now! You’re gonna leave us short handed if Hydra decide to-“

“We don’t know they will…”

“Yeah, well, I do know that you’re gonna end up in rut, and be no use to any of us. So I’d start making contingency plans for when you’re unavailable.”

Bucky turned to go and Steve watched him for a moment, before he headed back inside. He’d barely closed the door behind him when you appeared at the top of the stairs, peering down at him cautiously.

“You’re anxious.” You whispered, “I can sense it.”

Steve took a deep breath, knowing it was pointless even trying to lie. Nor did he want to. “Yeah, I err…”

“What is it?” You blinked, watching as he took the stairs two at a time to meet you, “is it Bucky? Did I do something?”

“No, it’s…he thinks you’re in a pre-heat, and know I’ve thought about it, I agree with him,” Steve watched as your eyes grew wide and he sensed and overwhelming flutter of anxiousness and fear emanating from you.

“Heat, I can’t…” You shook your head, swallowing, “I’m on suppressants.”

“I know, but they work to an extent. If you’re persistently exposed to a strong Alpha, then they can stop having an effect. And lord knows, our Bond, it’s…”

“They can fail?” You whispered.

Steve frowned, “well, yeah. Didn’t anyone explain to you about their limitations?”

“No.” You mumbled, “they’re illegal in Hydra states. I only started taking them when I fled, I just assumed….”

“Oh, sweetheart.” Steve sighed, his head dropping a little. “I’m sorry, if I’d have known…”

“How long have I got?”

“Couple of days, I don’t know for sure.”

 “And you’ll, you’ll go into rut?”

“Most likely. Unless I leave and stay away until you’re done.”

“Leave me?” Your eyes grew wide.

“It’s an option.” Steve nodded. “I could stay with Stark if you want me to, well away.”

“I err, I don’t know,” you whispered, “Steve, I…I’m scared, and…”

“It’s okay.” Steve placated you, reaching out to gently pull you to him. “Just, let’s go to bed and we can talk about this properly in the morning.”

He felt you nod against his chest as he pressed a kiss to the crown of your head. You untangled yourself from him and he watched you head to the bedroom. Once you were gone, Steve let down the mental blocker he’d thrown up in the last minute or so and took a deep breath.

Whilst Bucky had been an asshole, he was right. A heat and a rut was the last thing either of you needed. He knew a breakthrough one was going to be painful for you, especially if you instructed him to stay away and had to ride it out yourself. That said, he understood your fear and trepidation. It was a well-known fact that Alphas could be feral during an Omega’s heat, often bonding the one they were with in the throes of a rut induced lust.

And given what had happened today in the barn, Steve wasn’t sure willpower alone would be enough to enable him to fight the natural predisposition, which had been ingrained in every single Alpha since the start of time.

With his hands on his hips, he glanced down at Commando who lazily looked at him, his tail thumping lazily against the rug. Steve arched his brow and suddenly found himself wishing he was a dog, lie would be a hell of a lot more simple.

**** Chapter 8

[marvelita85]

Mention of s*x so plz minors be aware

You breath in and out waking up, you really didn't want to open your eyes yet because you knew it was early, you smile turning on bed looking into a pair of blue eyes smiling back at you

- good morning

- morning to you too... I'm sorry I attacked you yesterday - he chuckled and grab your waist holding you close

- if your attacks are all going to be like that one please do it everyday - you smiled and bite your lower lip remembering how you arrived late last night from a mission with Wanda and adrenaline still run through your veins as you got inside your room and saw Bucky already asleep you didn't want to disturbed him but your needs won your judgment

You were on top of him in a second and he woke up with the kiss you gave him, you knew you shouldnt waking him up that way but in that moment didn't matter, he was naked under the thick cover

- I'm sorry I really need you Buck...

- come here doll... I'm all yours anytime - it was pure raw sex but there was so much involve in it, he knew your body and where to touch to caress to be rough or soft and you knew his too

He wasnt good with touching but with you was so different, touch starved for so many decades and still so soft and understanding

- it was different I never did that before but I saw you there asleep vulnerable and I needed to get some energy out

- it's call adrenaline after a mission doll, I had those sometimes too

- you never asked me for sex before

- I never thought I should wake you up for my selfish desire

- now you are making me feel guilty...

- don't worry from now on either one of us has a raw mission we get the others permition to wake them up

- ok deal but please Bucky wake me up anytime you need me if not for you know just I am here always...

- I know doll... and thank you... I've never though I could find someone like you, and now we are both awake and is still early - you laugh hugging him close

- what about food I'm starving

- I take you out for breakfast... now be a good girl - you laugh again feeling his face buried inside the covers making you squirm in anticipation

Thank you nixakimbo for the edits

[navybrat817]

Im thinking how any of the mafia men would let me have the home library i want so much

But especially soft dark ones. After kidnapping and isolating me they knew i would get bored pretty easily so they just let me make my own library in one of the biggest room in their absolutely-not-so-small manor.

I just want a room to chill and read and keep my precious books. Maybe also want to get fucked against a bookshelf or on my reading table or on the leather couch.

Would you like that Navy? Having a library of your own?

Lovely, I'm not going to object to having my own private library. Allow me to share this AMAZING Nix edit again of librarian!Bucky that I used for Prized Possession.

Librarian or Mob, Bucky is allowed to keep me, give me my library and fuck me against every single shelf. He's MORE than allowed. I welcome it. Please. ❤️

But you know who else would be good for that? Andy.

Andy appreciates deep conversations and would ask about the books you've read after he has completely and utterly wrecked you. Whatever book you want or design for the library, you'll have it. He wants you to be happy. All you have to do is keep him happy.

Love and thanks! ❤️

[georgiapeach30513]

Your Mark On Me, Part 12

Summary: You and Bucky are in love, and Bucky has to talk to Steve.

Pairings: Bucky Barnes X Reader

Rating: explicit

Warnings:  explicit language, explicit sexual content, depictions of PTSD/panic attack, mentions of alcohol abuse, mentions of sexual harassment, mentions of drug abuse, soft!Bucky, unprotected sex, PIV sex, creampie, mentions of street life, 18+ ONLY

Word Count: 6.4K

Previous

Series Masterlist

A/N: this part does dive into Shy's past with her father, and we learn about Dove's sister. It can be a bit dark. Read ALL warnings, and if you feel it's too much for you, I don't apologize. This story was always going to be dark.

*dividers created by @firefly-graphics

*Bucky edits by @nixakimbo

There’s a comfort with living here with Bucky and Alpine. You’re able to relax, not fully, but you are getting there. Alpine definitely helps. Bucky. You want to let him in as easy as he let you in, but you just can’t. You could sit and listen to him talk, but don’t want to talk about your life just yet.

You want to, and then you don’t. You need to, but you just can’t. He is giving you so much of himself, including a place to live. Refusing to even take money from you. You weren’t poor, in fact you had done well with your books. That ugly piece of shit house had insurance, so yay for that.

But Bucky. He’s a mystery to you like all men. You know you shouldn’t, but you compare them all to your father. It’s why you wrote; you want to make stories of men that were good, honest, and didn’t have crippling and poor coping mechanisms. Bucky didn’t seem like that. In fact he gave you just enough distance, and you craved him more.

Was crave even the right word? You dream of him. Wished he would close the gap a bit more so you could count the colors of blue in his eyes. Had a desire to snoop in his room just so you knew what cologne he wore or if that scent was purely Bucky.

Why did he haunt your thoughts? Your newest male character was Bucky. Down to the cleft in his chin. The very dimple you longed to poke a finger in, hoping to bring a smile big enough to make the faint dimples appear on his cheeks. You liked when you could get that to happen.

Why couldn’t you be more comfortable with him? Why couldn’t you just speak more than a few words? Every evening he even asked if he was talking too much, and you’d respond by shaking your head no. You’d never been given much of a voice in your home, yet another reason you wrote. Your writing gave you that voice. Those moments to say what you wanted, even if it was fiction. There is always a bit of truth in the midst of fantasy.

If you could have made the perfect man, it would be Bucky. He is handsome without question, but his patience astounded you. He never once raised his voice. He saw you look in the fridge at the beer for too long, and the next day the beer was gone. You still haven’t found remnants of even beer garbage. He watched you curiously as you traced your finger along the walls, asking what you were doing. “They’re spotless.”

There aren't burns, dents, or ripped out wiring in his home. It is fascinating that there was a man that could no doubt live in a world of turmoil and danger, and yet his home is a safe haven for him, you, and even the cute little kitty that snuggled up to you every night.

Alpine is a godsend to you. She followed you around like a lost puppy, well cat. When Bucky came home, she would stand between the two of you, making sure there was a safe distance, but that you could hear her purring. You liked her purring. When she greeted her dad, Bucky would look at you but you kept your eyes trained on Alpine. Only random looks would move up to him. You were a puzzle that he couldn’t quite put together, but he knew once he did that you would be beautiful, even if there were missing pieces.

You kiss the top of Alpine’s head as you allow yourself to drift off to sleep. Sleep still scared you, and you found yourself panting and in a puddle of sweat almost every night, so far you’d been able to keep it within the four walls of your bedroom. “Goodnight, sweet girl. Keep us all safe.”

Sleep was always fraught with dreams that transformed into nightmares. Dreams of how you wished your life with your father was, but morphing into nightmares of how you viewed things with the eyes of you as a little girl. Parties that would get too loud, and your father would start cussing and pushing everyone around before they’d leave.

Parties where he would pass out early, and you’d have to hide in the closet as people would have sex in your bed. You’d sit in the corner of your closet with your fingers in your ears and tears running down your face as you try to block out the noises just a few feet away. You got smarter as you got older, but their gazes would follow you if you wanted food or to go to the bathroom.

Those slobs begged for the days that your father would pass out and they would beat on your door. They never made it in there with you, but their lingering eyes and words to each other was enough for you to swallow bile on more than one occasion.

Your nightmares held the fights that you had with your dad. When he’d drunkenly throw whatever he could get his hands on at you, or punch walls. Even ripping the phone off the wall because the sound of it annoyed him. How many fires had you put out because his disgusting self fell asleep with a cigarette.

This dream is your worst. His ghost is chasing you around the fire that you started on purpose. Letting you know that you would never get rid of him. His voice would be in your ear for the rest of your life, and would even haunt your children. You would never know peace because you were the reason his wife was dead. It’s what you deserved.

His voice repeats ‘It’s what you deserved’ over and over again. Marking itself in your very soul, until you believed that no good could come into your life because you didn’t deserve it. You deserved to live a miserable and loveless life like he did because it was your fault, and you deserved every bit of suffering that ever came in your life.

“No! Nonononono!”

“Hey,” Bucky whispers into your ear, giving your body a light shake. “Hey, come back to me.”

“You’re a liar!” You shoot up in the bed, and see his face trying to touch you. “Stop touching me! Don’t touch me. You’re wrong! You’re always wrong!” Your arms swing at him a few times and he starts to step back with his arms up in surrender, “I don’t want you to touch me!”

“It’s me, Bucky,” your body freezes, but your eyes blink a few times as he comes into clear view. Bucky isn’t your father, and your father isn’t Bucky. “I can leave.”

“No!” You should have let him. Why did you stop him? What is it that you want? “I don’t want to be alone. I’m always alone because he isolated me. I’ve never had a friend, and I don’t want to be him. I don’t want to blame everyone for my problems. I don’t want to be without…touch.”

You extend a shaky hand out to Bucky. Who are you? You didn’t want touch, you wanted to be left alone. Bucky’s head twists to the side as he looks at your trembling hand. His eyes move down to Alpine who is on your lap, and ready to pounce. She never took a defensive approach towards Bucky, “Can I hold your hand?”

“I don’t know,” you answer truthfully for the first time. You wanted him to touch your hand, and you wanted him to go away. Conflicting emotions were complicated.

“How about I hold my hand here?” He holds his hand straight out to yours barely an inch between you, and you close the space and press yours against his. Your fingers look so small compared to his. You bet he could play the piano beautifully. He has long lithe fingers that you wanted to weave yours into his.

His rings are cold against your skin. They were menacing to so many people, but to you they just looked like Bucky. You look up at him and start laughing. Laughing so hard that tears spring to your eyes. This is what crazy is, you just know it. He was going to walk away from you, and you’d never see him again.

Your hand just looked so tiny against his. Holding up your other hand, Bucky meets it with his metal hand, and you can’t stop yourself from weaving all ten of your fingers with his, continuing to laugh. He doesn’t retreat, his mouth just turns up into a crooked grin before he laughs with you.

“Are you okay?”

“I gotta break the cycle,” you laugh even harder, and aren’t sure why. Was this the mental break you assumed would eventually find you? If this was a mental break, you’d take it. You had no desire for alcohol. Didn’t want to turn to drugs. The only thing you wanted was to know that Bucky is smiling, and you wanted to keep learning all about him.

“You are. You’re breaking the cycle,” he answers with so much certainty that it cuts the air off from your lungs. Your laughing stops as soon as it had started, and he smiles as he sits down beside you. “You got yourself a little guard cat. Alpine, I don’t want to hurt her. Are you okay with me here?”

“Actually, yes. I hate men,” his mouth tightens as he watches you. “They’re thoughts of defiling a woman are so evidently clear in the way that they ogle you, and…the things they say.”

“Has anyone ever…”

“No,” you cut him off. “I’m not just saying that to avoid a trauma talk. It wasn’t without trying, but no. Not like that. Not sexually,” Bucky takes the abrupt finish as you wanting to move on past this talk. And yet you’re still looking at him, and opening up.

“Your father?”

“He was a mean drunk, and can we leave it at that?” Bucky gives you a head nod in response. He wouldn’t dig, he never did. “Thank you. I just…I don’t want to be alone anymore. Not in my life, and not in here,” you point at your head as you study his eyes. How were there so many shades of blue? “I’ve never really lived before. Had friends, but as soon as we got close, I’d push them away, and they’d give up on me. Bucky, if I push…don’t give up on me?”

“I’ve devoted a lot of time to you. I don’t want to give up. I always see things through.”

“Thank you,” two words have never held so much power for you before. You could never thank Bucky enough for the things he’s done, but mostly for the things he just said. Everyone with their good intentions always gave up on you. You couldn’t blame them. There’s only so many times that you push someone away that they give up on trying.

You bump your hip into Bucky’s as you look up at him with a genuine smile. Dates. You have been on six of them now, and he is still as much of a gentleman as he was the night he brought you home with him. The man slept in the bed with you, and still wouldn’t initiate anything. And heaven forbid if the two of you kissed at home. It’s like he had a timer that went off, and he would pull back.

“Bucky!”

“What is it?” His silvery blue eyes look down at you. His lips pull up with a smirk. He knew. He knew exactly what you wanted, and you were trying to get his attention.

“You know!”

“Just tell me then. Use your words, and tell me explicitly what you want,” it sounded like a bigger invitation than what you were wanting at this moment. What you wanted when you got home was entirely different. “Shy?”

Your fingers tickle along his as you will him to grab ahold of your hand. “My sweet little Shy Violet, all you have to do is use those words that I know you have.”

“Well…aren’t you my,” you stop your words. Could you call him that? You lived together. You saw him everyday, and talked to him throughout the day, there was no other woman. But could you say boyfriend?

“I think we’ve earned the right to call each other boyfriend and girlfriend,” Bucky would say those words over and over again just to see your sweet smile, hear the little giggle that rose up your throat, and even feel the warmth that was circled your body. “Shy, you’re my girlfriend.”

“I want my boyfriend to hold my hand then,” you blurt out. Bucky chuckles, but he does entangle his fingers with yours, pulling you as close to him as he possibly can as you walk back home. Your steps match each other, and you’ve never felt safer than you do right now.

“Shy, what are you feeling right now?”

“Right now?” You look up at him with your brows furrowed, “What do you mean?”

“Explain your feelings towards me and us like you would in one of your books.”

“Oh…well,” Bucky winces as he looks at you, fearful that he overstepped his bounds, and pushed you too far, too fast. The two of you had been making great progress with this new step in your relationship, and he doesn’t want to offset it or have you regress.

”Never mind. Forget I asked.”

”No,” you strain out a giggle. Grabbing his arm with your free hand. “It’s not that simple, bubba. It…words don’t always flow, they just get caught in my throat, and don’t want to come out. And I usually close my eyes before I start writing, and imagine the scene. What are you doing?”

He stops in the middle of the sidewalk, removing your hands off him before he steps in front of you. Squatting down a bit as he peeks over his shoulder, “Hop on, and close your eyes. You can whisper it in my ear.”

Exhaling loudly, you jump onto Bucky’s back, resting your cheek on his shoulder as you close your eyes. Letting your body feel everything that you feel about Bucky. “It’s new.”

“But good?” He asks. You give a quick peck to his neck. “I take that as a yes.”

“It’s so good,” you hum, wanting to express everything that you’re feeling at this moment. “It’s like this warmth deep inside my soul. It rushes out into every part of me, and wants me to always be with you because I don’t want to miss any breath that you take, or any blink of your eyes. I want to hear every groan of pain that you have because I want to be the one to make you feel better. It’s this rumbling fluttering feeling in my stomach that makes me feel like I’m in knots. It scares me and excites me all at the same time.”

Giving him a few nips to his neck, you move to right your head. Placing your mouth right behind the shell of his ear as you continue to whisper all the things that Bucky makes you feel. “Every time you touch me I get goose pimples, and this flood of…heat throughout every part of me. All the way to my soul, and to places I’ve never felt before. And I want you to explore those parts of me. And it’s like I’m home.”

“Hmm?” His voice is a whispered groan. You can feel his body tense under you, and you know why. He’d been starving his body of sexual gratification just to make sure that you were comfortable. He could also feel just how heated you are, right at your core. You meant more to him than a good lay, but each part of the past few minutes has his body on edge. Hyper alert of how your body is craving him as much as he craves you.

Your heated core presses into his back, making his aching cock twitch with a fervent need for your warmth. He is just about in a state of not seeing things clearly because of your pulse. The pulse that is in sync with his, and he felt it in your entire body. Throbbing harder than even he is. He’s tried to deny his animalistic needs because he felt like it was what you needed. But maybe you needed him in the same ways he needed you.

“Because my home is wherever you and our daughter are. Bucky, you can start calling me her mommy if you want to.”

“Please,” he strains out. Not even realizing himself how much he wanted Alpine to belong to both of you. Hearing you call him her daddy just felt so right, and he wanted you to feel the same way he did. That…yeah, the warmth.

“James, I love you,” he stops his walking right before you get to the complex. His body freezes as his eyes well up with tears. “I love you,” you whisper right behind his ear, and softly press a kiss before you wiggle out of his grasp.

Going to stand in front of him, your arms wrap around his waist. And you rest your chin on his chest as you stare up at him. “And I’m never going to get tired of saying that. I love you, James Buchannan Barnes.”

“I love you,” two broken people that had created a weird codependent relationship had no business falling in love. He needed you. Needed you every day and in every way. You are his best friend. The best thing that had ever happened to him, and he wanted to learn you all the more because of it. “I LOVE HER!”

Bucky throws his head back, yelling up at the sky before he looks back down at your scrunched up nose, and your eyes shining with the tears you weren’t allowing to spill over your lash line. “I love you.”

“And I want you to have all of me,” you slide out of his embrace, and pull him towards the door. “Tonight. I want us to rush into the apartment, and struggle to get each other's clothes off. But once we are completely bare in front of each other, I want our hands and lips to discover our bodies. Trace each line and curve with our fingertips. Intertwining every limb with the other until we’re too close to avoid your cock going into my cunt, and…”

His mouth crashes into yours as the two of you stumble into the building. A mad dash of hands roughly roaming over each other. Undoing buttons in the elevator until the two of you hit the door of the apartment and it’s a struggle to get in with the way you’re pulling off jackets and pulling apart shirts.

Crossing the threshold and the clothes fly at an alarming rate. Some in pieces others being tugged off at awkward angles because you need your mouth back on his. Thirsty for the taste of his mouth and you revel in it every time you get that tiny sip.

And just like you promised when you’re both naked, and pressed up against each other in a heated embrace the kissing stops, and his eyes peer so desperately into yours. He gulps, squeaking as he tries to talk. You can feel his pulse through his heavy cock that is pressing up against your stomach, “We can…we can stop whenever you want.”

“I don’t want you to stop,” you whisper as you start kissing down his chest. His hands caress your back as he watches you discover the hills and valleys on his chest. Dipping lower to kiss over every hard line that makes up his abs. Gazing up at him through your lashes. He isn’t sure if you knew how crazy you are making him feel, but he hopes you did.

No woman has ever shown him the care that you are. Making sure you kiss every scar with the most tender press of your lips. All this time he was spending hoping you were okay, he didn’t realize he wanted someone to do the same. And you had been. Not with words, but with how you took care of him. How you would jump up and run to the door with a smile just to greet him. Jumping into his arms, you would rub on his shoulders asking how his day was.

You felt real because you were. You didn’t want the amazing sex he could give you; you wanted him. His heart, body, and soul, and you had it. You had every part of him wrapped tightly around your little pinky finger, and he didn’t want it to ever unravel. He craved you like an addict to their next hit. He wanted to experience every part of life with you, including growing old.

Bucky never thought he was going to have a long life, and now he didn’t want to die before he was five hundred years old, and that still wouldn’t be enough time with you. Eternity was just the start of enough time with you.

His hands grip the underside of your ass before he picks you up. Letting your legs wrap around him as he takes the two of you to the bedroom. You are drenched and ready for him now, but you were right, he wanted his fingers and mouth to discover you first. He didn’t want this moment to end.

Sitting you on the edge of the bed, he yanks you back down the mattress when you try to scoot up the bed. Sinking to his knees, he starts at your toes, and kisses all the way up your leg. Stopping at the top of your thigh, he steals a glance at your glistening folds, kissing across your thigh before he makes his decent back down.

Moving to your right leg, he does the same motion. Finishing at your feet before he sits up a bit more. His eyes bore into yours before he leans forward, kissing over your mound. Right above the split, and you tremble. He is everywhere but where your body needs him. But you needed him more than your body.

His lips trail all over your soft pliable skin, and your fingers ghost over his arms and shoulders at the same speed. The tips of your fingers paint every inch of his flesh before he hovers over your body, and you take a haggard breath, giving your head a nod, “I can’t stand it anymore.”

”Good,” his legs move between your own, and he pushes you further apart. His digits slide down your arms, before he weaves his hands within yours, and pulls them above your head. “I can’t wait either,” slipping one hand free, he lines himself up with your entrance, “Don’t take your eyes off me,” he grunts.

”Okay,” your voice croaks out before he slowly descends inside of you. Moving at such an achingly slow pace, and making sure that your body memorizes the vein that runs over his cock. He makes sure that your velvety skin feels every inch of his head as it spears through your walls.

Biting on your lip, you are overcome with so much…just so much, but he shakes his head, “Do not withhold any sound from me, Shy. I need every part of this. If you wince, I want to know that it’s because of the stretch you feel as your body adjusts to me.”

“Okay,” he couldn’t fault you for becoming breathless, and unable to form words. He knew you’d been out of commission for a few years, and he could tell. Just like the proverbial walls around your heart, he would break, well stretch, these walls, too. He’d make sure that you learned how to take every inch of him. “Why did you stop?”

“Baby, I’m too deep.”

”No,” you want to cry. He wasn’t close enough, “I need to feel you on me. I belong to you, Bucky. Because you belong to me. I just,” Bucky slides completely home, and your words stop. Balls deep, and his weight is on every part of you. He is the most perfect feeling on you. Covered in Bucky. It’s what you wanted to be for the rest of your life.

Letting out the sweetest whimper when Bucky starts to slowly and steadily rut into you. Your body sounds vulgar with how wet you are, but your voice is the most angelic noise. Mewling, and calling out his name because nothing else mattered in the world. Only Bucky and you. The two of you had created a bubble of safety and care, and you had no desire to leave. Just wanted him. Always him.

“You’re my home,” you whisper as the constant fluttering knot in your stomach tightens. This is happening way too fast. No way is this going to last all night. You didn’t want to stop this feeling ever. “It’s…”

“It was always you,” Bucky pants out as his thrusts quicken. Normally he could last longer, but not this time. This time is overwhelming and feels too good. Nothing was better than this, and he was going to spend the rest of the weekend inside of you. Learning all the secrets to your body.

Even though you are struggling to hold on, he could feel your walls fluttering around him. Keeping your intense gaze just on him just like he asked you. “Thank you, Shy,” he coos, changing his angle he starts to drive into your warmth, and you gasp. The build up of the most beautiful high is becoming unbearable, but you weren’t finished just yet.

“Shy, let go for me, and we’ll do it again. And again. And again.”

“Promise?” your voice is hoarse as you choke down the need to come again.

“I’m never going to stop making love to you,” you let go as euphoria surges through every inch of your body. Racing through your blood, and making you all dizzy in the brain. Not even getting a chance to come back down when your walls grip around Bucky’s length so hungrily that his balls tighten and he shoots sticky warmth into the depths of your body, and you release again at the feeling of him in your belly.

”I love you,” you whimper, trying to ground yourself so you don’t lose sight of the face Bucky makes as he releases in a woman for the first time. Letting your body milk every drop of his thick cum as it blooms in your tummy like the best warmth.

“I love you, forever, Shy.”

”Forever.”

“Shy,” Bucky gives you a lingering kiss on your cheek as his left hand presses on the swell of your belly. He claims he could feel the baby better that way. His left hand is much more sensitive, and he wanted to feel the two of you growing and ‘swimming’. “Sweetheart, why don’t you ladies go whip up some lunch?”

“Of course, come on,” you grab Dove’s hand, pulling her into the kitchen. That was code for Bucky and Steve needed alone time. But his spoiled brat didn’t even want to leave him. She turns her head to look back at Steve giving you a clear view of her mark. She is completely stuck on him. Guess he finally sealed the deal.

You clear your throat, looking at her with your eyes wide, “They need a moment.”

“But…”

Ugh. You snap your fingers, and point into the kitchen, but she still looks back at Steve, “Dovey, follow Shy into the kitchen, and make me something real tasty, and we can share, okay?”

“Okay,” her body swishes back and forth, and she stands up a bit straighter, dropping your hand, and following you willingly. He tamed the brat. You were sure she still would stub up on him, and become a bit too childish for your liking, but even Bucky is watching Steve in an odd way.

“So how was it?” You ask with a smirk, as you pull out a few things from the fridge. The least you could do was talk to the girl. Maybe she wasn’t that bad.

“How was what?”

“Weren’t you a virgin?” Bashfully she looks down at the counter, finding her a seat in one of the stools. You’d have to hand her some things to chop, and hope she knew how to handle a knife. Her eyes never move back up to meet you, and you worry you made her shut down. “I’m sorry.”

“No, I just don’t even know how to begin to explain it,” you smile, sliding over a cutting board, knife and veggies. Without hesitation she starts slicing things up, and thinks? “It’s the best thing I’ve ever felt, and I can’t even begin to describe it. He loves me.”

“Steve told you that?” She shakes her head no, but her smile never fades. It’s the one thing Bucky said Steve claimed he’d never do again. Love. Of course he wouldn’t tell her, but sometimes a woman just knows.

“He pretty much told me without saying the words. We’re going to get married, and have babies like you,” sweet summer child. You and Bucky have built a relationship for years. Strangers to saviors to friends to lovers. She wouldn't understand your dynamic. “Every love story is different, but I do love mine and Steve’s.”

“Because he stalked you?”

“No,” she giggles, clearly forgetting the way that they met. “Because he had a goal, and he achieved it,” by breaking her down. “I’m not the person I was before. I feel like I have power, and a voice, and I’m desirable. I’d never felt like that before. My parents somewhat sheltered me. I don’t talk about Steve to them. They both want different things for me, and I just have spent so much time being the perfect girl for both of them. Dad wanted me to teach at a university, mom wanted me to be a pediatric nurse, so I went into early childhood education.”

“Do you have anyone you do talk to about Steve?”

She shrugs her shoulders as she bites into a carrot stick. “Just my sister. They don’t even know I talk to her. She’s my mom’s daughter, not my dad’s. She stopped trying to be perfect a long time ago,” there’s a sadness laced in her eyes as she stares at the cut veggies. “I don’t think they’d much approve.”

“Fuck ‘em,” she looks up at you with her brows furrowed, and a smile tingling to spread on her lips. You could see why Steve melted in her presence. You didn’t like seeing her sad because her smile is radiant. “How do you feel about Steve?”

“I love him,” no hesitation and with so much conviction.

“If they can’t see that you love him then why have them in your life? So what is it that your sister does?”

“Currently? Uh…changing her phone number again,” there is more to that story, and you’re not sure what.

“Their job — you’re around the business a lot. Are you using?” Her head shakes rapidly, taking a moment to look back where Steve and Bucky were, and her body goes frigid. “They’re just in the study with the door closed.”

“Steve doesn’t allow me to. He only lets me shotgun with him, or drink if he’s around. I’m a cheap drunk. And I get too flirty,” her giggle is awkward, and she avoids your eyes.

“IsYyur sister a junkie?”

“Not that bad. Steve says he doesn’t sell to her. I showed him her picture, and he told everyone while I was there not to sell to her. Told her that he would pay for her to go to rehab, and pay her phone bill so we knew where she was, and she disappeared for a while. She…she’s going to be okay. Steve will help.”

Walking over to her side of the counter, you open your arms wide. You understood addiction in people you love better than most. “Or you can just hold the baby?” With a sweet smile, she meets your hug, pulling back only to feel around your belly.

Steve shuffles in his seat as he stares at the monitors. Bucky doesn’t say anything as he watches his friend. “Shy and I like knowing where each other are in the house. She works here a lot and it’s a way for her to just see where I am.”

“I wasn’t questioning your need for cameras in your house. I’m just observing Dovey.”

“You’re looking awfully hard,” Steve straightens up only when you step away from Dove. Turning to look at his friend, but his eyes still wander over to the monitors. “So, why did you want to come here?”

“I want to apologize for what I did, but also the things I said about Shy.”

“Why?” Bucky cocks up an eyebrow at him. He’d love to have Steve graveling on his knees for the things he said about you.

“What do you mean why? I’m just apologizing and there’s no other fucking reason.”

“Don’t smoke in here,” he points a finger at his friend who started to touch his pocket. “We can walk outside, but this is a smoke free house. I’m asking why you’re apologizing because if it’s to ask me back, I’m not ready for that.”

“Why not?” Steve’s question shocks Bucky as he’s the one that turns to the monitor, pointing one of his fingers at the screens where you are. “I get it.”

“I don’t think you fully do, but you’re getting there.”

“So you’re just going to sit around and be a house husband for the rest of your life?”

“I could,” Bucky smiles, leaning back in his chair. “I could do that. Shy has had another successful book, and I made good investments. Just like you. My priority is my family now, Steve. And I can’t jeopardize her or our…you haven’t even asked me what we’re having.”

“This is a new thing for me,” he sighs. He’d been a horrible friend. Dove had told him as such. The more he talked to her, the more he realized how he had good people in his corner that wanted what was best for him. “What are you having?”

“He’s a boy. He’s all boy. Ember. Shy is insisting that Buchanan Barnes stays as well. She’s a bit of a romantic like that. I wanted a girl, but I hope he’s as in love with his mom as I am. She deserves another good man in her life. Speaking of family; I haven’t heard anything about Dove’s sister, Larkin. I still have our underground crew that stake out the trap houses,” he shakes his head, knowing it's the one thing that Steve couldn’t protect Dove from. That ugly world.

“Two weeks, Buck. That’s a long time out on the streets.”

“Look at me right now, and promise me that you haven’t done anything or sold to her,” Steve’s eyes roll up to look at Bucky. His face is somber and full of anger at the audacity in the question. “You love her,” Steve shakes his head no, confusion laced in every one of his features. The dramatic tonal shift in the conversation gives him whiplash. “I didn’t ask, you do.”

“I can’t love anymore.”

“Oh, bullshit, Steve. You can walk around acting like your heart is impenetrable because fucking Peggy left you for Rumlow, but you can’t fool me. You love her, and you need to tell her. Sam the other day was saying how different you are, and how you were already making preparations on a wedding, and future children, and where the fuck does that come from if it isn’t love?”

“Loyalty,” Bucky rolls his eyes as he looks at Steve. “It’s close enough to love, and it’s all that she’s going to get.”

“You’re a fucking dumbass, you know that? You have got Dove sitting on your cock asleep while people who can switch on you any minute see it. Yeah, information gets out, and it’s not just fucking Sam telling me this shit, Steve. You’re in love and you’ve gotten goddamn sloppy because of it. You show her the same fucking love that you gave Peggy, or you let her go. This life already consumed her sister, is that how you want to see Dove? Strung out? Selling her body for a hit, and too ashamed to seek help somewhere? You give her the same life you would have given Peggy. You tell her what she means to you, and you keep her away from that fucking life. Since when did you get so stupid?”

Steve sits in silence, letting his friend berate him. The only person besides Dove that can talk to Steve like this, and get away with it. “You got stupid when you let that little brat into your heart. You smile now. You’re looking for her fucking sister on the regular so Dove knows she’s okay. You have her lips burned into your skin just like she’s burned herself into your heart. Eventually if you don’t let the fire die down Steve, it burns away.”

“And only ashes and embers remain,” he smiles at his friend, almost laughing at the name Bucky and you chose for your son. Ember. The last remnants of a fire. The tiniest bit of spark that burns bright amongst the ashes. The light in the darknes.

“Do you want to lose Dove?”

“No,” his voice is ragged as his eyes move back to the monitor. Watching as her hands slide over your belly. Dove on her knees, whispering something to your son that Steve couldn’t hear, but he is addicted to seeing her so soft. Longing for the day where she was you.

“Steve, you’re going to. Whether it’s because you’re too fucking stubborn, or because of your stupidity. Do right by her when she’s with you, or let her go. She deserves someone who can give her this. When is enough, enough? Why are you still in this game? We’re getting too old, this is a young man’s game. You have more money than you could have ever possibly need.”

When was enough, enough?

“Steve, I love you, brother,” Steve meets Bucky’s eyes, and Bucky knows there’s still a human still left in his cold soul. “You see how easy that is? And I love you enough to tell you, I can’t go back into that life. I won’t leave my wife and son behind because of jail or death. Let’s go eat.”

When is enough, enough?

Next

Masterlist

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[what-is-your-plan-today]

Coming soon…

Rawhide:

Alpha Steve Rogers x Omega Reader.

Happily bonded to your childhood sweetheart Alpha, your life is torn apart when, following a brutal attack, he is killed by another Alpha who has his sights on you.

Before your Alpha’s murderer can claim you as your own, you flee Fort Worth, the place you’ve called home since you were born. After two years of keeping your head down and moving from place to place, you find yourself in a small town called Stark Wood, just north of Helena, Montana.

Upon your arrival, you cross the path of Natasha Romanoff and Tony Stark, the man who’s ancestors built the town. Needing a place to stay, the direct you to the Avengers Ranch, owned by Steve Rogers.

Given your vet training, Steve has a proposition for you and offers you a place to stay, no questions asked, in exchange for work on the ranch. Sparks fly, and soon you’re succumbing to his advances, despite your foreboding. And everything seems to be going okay, but when your past comes back to haunt you, can Steve and the rest of the Avengers keep you safe?

So yeah, here’s another fic I totally shouldn’t be started but I’ve wanted to indulge myself with an A/B/O fic for ages so here we are.

@nixakimbo and @sweater-daddiesdumbdork are totally to blame for this, thanks to Nix’ AMAZING cowboy edit which can be seen in the moodboard.

I have no idea when the first part of this will post- hell, I don’t even have a fully outlined plot but… whatever, when do I ever.

Make sure you follow @wiypt-writes. I’ll be tagging my usual suspects plus those of you on the SR specific tag list. If you want in or out, just let me know.

[sjsmith56]

Declarations - Chapter 5, Lord Buchanan

Summary: The day of Sir Samuel’s investiture as Lord Falcon is marred by the return of the emissaries that were sent to the Kingdom of the Green Lands. Horribly disfigured the men are able to tell the King that Prince Loke is planning an attack on his kingdom. Buchanan urges Ileana to return to her world before warfare overtakes this one. As the various Lords ride out to their lands to raise their armies she makes an important decision.

Length: 5.2K

Characters: Lord Buchanan, Ileana, Sir Samuel, King Steven, Queen Peg, the Sorceress.

Warnings: Minors DNI. Contains sexual content which is not suitable for readers under the age of 18. Also contains graphic descriptions of mutilation by a hostile force on emissaries of diplomacy. (It is gruesome - I’m warning you.) Those are the two big ones. There is also angst, betrayal, and fear of warfare.

Author’s notes: Photo edits by Instagram artist nixakimbo. Remember, this is a medieval world, where mutilation of perceived enemies was seen differently than in a modern world. Prince Loke is trying to provoke a response by his deeds and he’s going to have to deal with the consequences of FAFO. The image of the runes are from an actual archeological dig in Norway. The pieces with the runic love poem have been dated to about 1200 AD.

<<Chapter 4

🏰 🗡️

The next day dawned bright and Ileana woke early. She caressed James until he took her again. He was in a much better mood than the night before and had slipped under the covers spreading her legs, searching her most tender parts with his tongue and fingers. The intensity of it had surprised Ileana so much so that she curled up after, pressing her hand into her pelvic area to settle the twitching muscles he had left her with. He seemed amused by her reaction.

"Don't the men of your world taste you?" he asked, caressing her skin with his calloused hands.

"Not like that," she said, kissing him. "You have a very strong tongue, James."

"I have a surprise for you," he murmured.

"Wasn't that it?" she replied, looking coyly at him.

He laughed. "I have another gown for you, for the investiture," he said. "Alice will bring it after breakfast. I hope you like it."

He left to get dressed then talk to Sam while Alice, with Gerard bringing up the water, drew her a bath. Alice poured the essence of wildflowers in and helped Ileana in while preparing the red dress for her to wear for breakfast.

"Lord Buchanan said you will be bringing in a dress for me for the investiture," stated Ileana, watching the maidservant closely. "Can you tell me about it?"

"No, he swore me to secrecy," she replied. "But I can tell you that it is a most beautiful colour and has beading on it. You will also wear a head piece."

At breakfast Ileana rejoined Buchanan and the others. The Queen was not eating due to feeling queasy but encouraged everyone else to partake in the meal. The mood was light with everyone chatting and laughing as they ate. Suddenly Ileana felt lightheaded. She turned to Buchanan but his voice seemed to be far away. He turned to her with a smile but his face changed from laughing to horror as he jumped out of his seat to catch her on her fall off her seat. Her eyes opened to a room with bright lights above and many people surrounding her, yelling out commands. The assault on her senses was intense and she heard the word seizure. Looking to her side, she saw James but he wasn't the same as he wore a modern suit. Ileana had the sudden realization this was Bucky, from her world, and he seemed to be distressed ... over her. Everything seemed to collapse into a tunnel of darkness while the image of his handsome but concerned face retreated to a vanishing point, until it was replaced by her lord, her James.

"Ileana," he cried. "Come back to me, love. Don't leave me."

"Buck, she's awake," said Sam. "She's blinking her eyes."

She focused on James face and raised her hand to his cheek, where he grasped it and kissed it. The Sorceress appeared with her calm, wise face and asked Ileana where she had been.

"I think I was in the emergency room," she replied as James helped her up to a seated position. "I heard the word seizure, then I turned my head and saw..."

She didn't want to say the next part as James was right there.

"You saw Lord Buchanan's counterpart in your world," said the Sorceress gently, "didn't you?"

Ileana nodded. There was a brief moment where the Sorceress frowned but only Ileana noticed it. The Sorceress stood up and made a slight motion of her head to the Queen and they retreated to the edge of the room. They came to a decision and the Sorceress asked Buchanan to carry Ileana to her reception room. The Queen also accompanied her then the Sorceress dismissed Buchanan saying she had to deal with womanly matters.

"Since you were last in my room what do you remember of me?" asked the Sorceress.

"I remember you saying some words that sounded like Latin," said Ileana, "after you told me of Lord Buchanan's wife and how you had to create the illusion that she died."

The Sorceress sat back, clearly surprised by this. "You were not supposed to remember that," she said. "I had given you a forgetting spell so that you wouldn't accidentally blurt it out during your passions with Lord Buchanan. This little seizure that you had has reset your mind and your memory. It also changes your future."

"What do you mean?" asked Ileana, worriedly.

"It means you may be the one who stays after all," replied the Sorceress. "I see both futures equally able to happen. But if it is you who stays the you in your world will die. You can't be alive in both worlds. At least, that has not been our experience with the other modern women."

"Shit," said the Queen. "She has to choose, like I did."

"This happened to you?" Ileana asked of the Queen. "How did you know what to do?"

"I trusted my heart," she said. "I loved the King and he loved me. His counterpart was in my world but we weren't even dating. He was always just ... there. For several months we did this dance around each other. But I knew my life with the King would be certain so I chose to stay."

"And your counterpart?"

"She died in a bombing with Steven's counterpart, not even together, separated by the rubble of the destroyed building they were in," said the Queen, sadly. "I didn't know that until after I committed to staying."

"If I stay here what will happen to Bucky?" Ileana asked.

The Sorceress thought for a moment. "He will grieve for that which never happened," she said. "It will take a while but he will move on and he will find love, although he will always wonder "what if Ileana had lived." Your mother will grieve for you as well and it will take her a long time to get over your death."

"Mom...," Ileana said, starting to cry. "If I go, what happens to James?"

"I see that you have already talked together about when you leave," said the Sorceress. "So he knows in his mind that it will happen but his heart has given itself to you fully. It will be broken so badly that he will become hermit like and may not be open to love ever again, even with the next one. He will be alone and his heart may harden against the world. I did not see this before, otherwise I would not have advised you to love him."

"Are you going to mess with my memories again?" asked Ileana.

"No, to do so risks damage to you," said the Sorceress. "But you now must decide what you are going to do. If you stay your life will be privileged and full with the love of an honourable man, but there will be challenges. If you go back you sentence Lord Buchanan to a miserable existence. The longer you take to decide the harder it will be for you to go back."

"I suppose you want me to keep quiet about all of this," said Ileana sullenly.

"Actually, it doesn't seem to matter if you talk to him about it or not," said the Sorceress, her eyes looking far away. "He wants you to stay but he also wants you to be happy. Like you he is torn between securing his own happiness and being unselfish enough to let you go."

Ileana stood up, smoothing her skirts and left the Sorceress and the Queen. Buchanan waited nearby and came forward when she approached him. He could see she was troubled but said nothing as he offered her his arm and escorted her to his room. There was a sitting area near a window where the tapestry had been pulled back to allow light into the space. Sitting across from her he watched the play of emotions across her face.

"My love," he said softly, "you are troubled. That is plain to see. Please let me help you with your struggle."

"The Sorceress has told me that I have reached a point of decision," she replied. "Whether I stay here with you or return to my own world."

His face lit up. "It's possible for you to stay?" he exclaimed. "We could be married, have children and I would do all in my power to make you happy."

"But would I be happy?" she said, her voice catching. "I'm a modern woman. I liked my job. There is so much I would have to give up to stay. You're the only thing keeping me here."

"I'm not enough," he said suddenly. "You love me but you're not sure if love is enough to keep you here."

She looked at him and he saw the pain she felt; its evidence on her face. "I'm not sure if I can leave you," she whispered. "If I leave you will be devastated and will never love again. I can't do that to you."

"You are caught between a rock and a hard place then," he said, taking her hands in his. "Then let me make it easy for you. Return to your world. I don't love you anymore and release you from any obligations you feel you owe me."

"Stop it!" Ileana said, standing up. "Don't be all noble and sacrificing like that! It's not your decision to make, it's mine."

Buchanan jumped up with her and grasped her firmly by her arms. "I can't ask you to give up everything just for me," he cried. "I'm not worth it, Ileana."

He kissed her as she cried and shed his own tears, then pulled himself away and left the room. Ileana sank down on the chair and wept, until she heard another enter the room.

"M'Lady," said Alice in a soft voice. "It is time to prepare for the investiture. I have brought the gown to your dressing room."

Ileana went with the maid into her dressing room and saw the most beautiful gown she had ever seen. Made of gold velvet it was trimmed with beaded brocade strips, covered in a front panel of rich gold brocade in a second pattern. The beading accentuated the bust. Its sleeves were long and flowing with their insides lined with the same brocade as the front panel. She touched the cloth, marvelling at its soft and luxurious feel.

"It's beautiful," she whispered. "It must have cost a fortune."

"Lord Buchanan picked out the velvet and brocade himself," said Alice. "He paid 10 gold pieces extra to have it sewn in the last few days. The brocade has actual gold thread in it. He must love you very much to want you to wear this."

"Alice, what do you have for my eyes, to get rid of the puffiness?" asked Ileana, making a decision.

"Witch hazel would do it," she said. "I will put it on a compress for your eyes. He made you cry, didn't he?"

"We made each other cry," said Ileana. "He thought he was doing me a kindness by releasing me but I'm not ready to let him go yet. Is he out there, getting ready as well?"

Alice looked and came back nodding. He was being dressed by Gerard. "Prepare the compress and let's make me look more beautiful than ever before," said Ileana.

After 15 minutes the compress did its trick and Alice helped her remove the red dress. Because of the richness of the gold velvet fabric the cotton chemise she normally wore was replaced by one of silk that felt incredibly soft. It was trimmed with it's own white brocade border in a squared off neckline that would match the neckline of the gown. Before she put it on Alice came with a long thin strip of fabric.

"You did say you wanted to be the most beautiful," she said. "If I wrap this around your bosom just so it will plump it up so that it shows above the neckline."

"We have under garments that do that in my world," said Ileana. "They're called push-up bras. Wrap me up."

After wrapping it tightly around the bottom half of her breasts Alice helped Ileana put on the silk chemise. Smiling at her reflection in the mirror both women were pleased with the rounded breasts peeking above the neckline of the chemise. Next was the gown and it was heavier than any she had worn. Alice matched the necklines of the dress and the chemise then went to the back and started pulling on the cords that tightened the dress.

"Not too tight that I can't sit or breathe," cautioned Ileana. "I'm not that much of a slave to fashion."

Alice nodded and loosened it slightly, asking her mistress to sit in the chair in order to properly gauge the tension. Realizing she would have to sit with perfect posture to maintain the look she wanted, Ileana told Alice that was sufficient and to tie off the cords. Alice did so, then turned her attention to Ileana's hair. She left for a moment, coming back with what looked like curlers.

"They're made out of bone, M'Lady," said Alice. "I'll put them to warm near the fire, then quickly wrap your hair in them to provide loose curls."

Alice's hands and fingers quickly flew as she rolled strips of hair over the warmed bone pieces, fastening them with strips of rags. While they cooled Alice went out for a moment then returned with a wooden case.

"Lord Buchanan has asked if you would wear these," she said.

Ileana opened the case to a gold chain with a gold crucifix decorated with precious stones. There was also a pair of earrings, gold strips with strange markings on them. Alice gasped when she saw the earrings.

"Runes," she said. "Written in the ancient language. M'Lady these are only given to one's true love."

"What does it say?" she asked, curious.

"Remember me, I remember you. Love me, I love you. Normally it is written as one line but he split it up between the two earrings. Perhaps to encircle you with it's power."

Alice fastened the necklace with the crucifix noting it nestled itself perfectly between Ileana's breasts. She started unrolling the now cool bone pieces, satisfied with the curl they provided. Using her fingers she pulled the curls loosely apart into strands of waves. Then she brought out the gold woven headpiece shaped like a Juliet cap. It fit on the back of Ileana's head, extending down to just behind her ears. Alice fastened it in place with pins then slid the earrings onto Ileana's ears, noting that this modern woman had pierced ears like many of the women of her world.

"M'Lady, if this doesn't move his heart, I don't know what will," said Alice, almost in tears. "You are truly beautiful and any Lord would want you on his arm and in his life."

With as much dignity as she could muster Ileana stepped out of the opened door into the main room to face Lord Buchanan. He sat in the seating area waiting for her, rising as she entered. She tried not to react to his appearance but he looked every bit a nobleman as she had ever imagined. He wore a rich dark green brocaded jacket, trimmed in pale gold brocade that matched her narrow trim. Under that he wore a dark green brocade vest that matched the pattern of the brocade of her front panel. His tunic was black silk that matched the color of his leather breeches, with knee high black leather boots. Across his chest hanging diagonally from one shoulder was a gold, black, and green brocade strap, attached to a scabbard that held a larger sword than he normally carried. He bowed deeply when she stopped in front of him. In response, she curtsied as low as she could.

"Lady Ileana," he said softly. "Words cannot describe the beauty I see before me."

"Lord Buchanan," she said formally. "You do me a great honour in providing these fine clothes for me. Thank you."

He offered her his hand but it was that of a formal offer, palm side down so that she rested her fingers on top of the back of his hand. They walked out of the room with distance between them and made their way to the great hall where the investiture would take place. Escorting her to a pair of empty seats, he then took her hand and kissed it ever so gently.

"I have a part to play in this ceremony so I must take my leave of you briefly," he said. "Rest assured I will return to your side as soon as I can."

She settled in while others took their places. Suddenly she heard the fanfare of trumpets announcing the entry of the King and Queen. Everyone rose as they paraded down the centre of the hall to where their thrones had been placed. The Bishop came next, accompanied by a priest carrying a crucifix mounted on a staff, and several others carrying candles on long staffs. The Bishop stopped in front of the King, bowed to him and turned. A low stool was placed in front of him.

"To all gathered," he announced, "we are here to consecrate the installation of Lord Falcon, Baron of Eden Vale. We begin with the confirmation of nobility."

Next was the procession of lords. Lord Buchanan was the first and he stopped in front of the Bishop.

"Lord Buchanan," said the Bishop. "Do you accept the investiture of Sir Samuel Wilson as the next Baron of Eden Vale, making him Lord Falcon?"

"Yes, your Grace, I do," he replied.

The Bishop made the sign of the cross at Buchanan and he returned to his seat next to Ileana. Eleven other lords came, accepting Sam as Lord Falcon. Sam, in his suit of armour representing his current status as Knight Commander, then proceeded to the Bishop and kneeled on the stool in front of him. The Bishop said a prayer for Sam, asking for God's guidance in his life. Then he stepped away and the King rose to do his part. He stood in front of Sam, offering him his hands. The soon-to-be lord placed his hands between the King's hands which were then folded over enclosing Sam's.

"Do you, Samuel Wilson, Falconer, Knight Commander, Baron of Eden Vale, Lord Falcon, accept me as your liege lord?"

"I do, your Majesty," replied Sam solemnly.

"Do you pledge to conduct yourself with honour and dignity in all that you do?"

"I do, your Majesty," he replied.

"Do you pledge to protect the inhabitants of your lands from all threats?"

"I do, your Majesty," he replied.

The King released his hands and Sam removed his sword from its scabbard, offering it to the King, by holding it upright in front of him then laying it flat on his outstretched hands.

"I offer you my sword, whenever you require it to protect your kingdom," he said. "Along with my sword I offer you my life and the life of my children into your service."

"Then arise Lord Falcon and take your place as a nobleman in the Kingdom of Broken Lands," said the King.

Sam rose, sheathed his sword and they took each other's right arm at the elbow in a gesture of fealty. The trumpeters sounded again, signalling the end of the ceremony. Buchanan offered Ileana the top of his hand again and they rose as the King, Queen, Bishop and Lord Falcon left the area first. Then everyone else followed out behind them. They gathered outside in the royal gardens where tables of drinks and finger foods had been prepared for everyone. The newly invested Lord Falcon disappeared for a few moments, returning dressed in as fine a set of clothing as any of the nobles there.

"Sam, brother," said Buchanan, giving him a manly hug. "Lord Falcon suits you. Now you have to find a lady to share your life."

"If I could find one like the Lady Ileana I would be happy," he replied, then noticing the looks between them. "Is something not right?"

"I have released Lady Ileana from any obligations she may feel for me," said Buchanan, in a curt tone. "She will be returning to her world."

"I haven't decided that yet," she sighed. "Don't put words into my mouth."

"She worries that I will turn into something unfeeling without her but she doesn't have to worry about me once she returns to her world," said Buchanan. "Tell her, Sam. Tell her I will be alright."

"Tell Lord Buchanan that he has a strange way of releasing me then giving me earrings with a rune love spell on it," she said, her voice quavering.

Sam looked at the earrings and turned to Buchanan. "Buck, why would you give her these if you didn't mean it?"

Buchanan coloured but was saved from answering by a messenger from the stables. He ran to the King, saying something in his ear in a low voice. His face grew dark then he answered the man before turning to the crowd.

"I need all the noble Lords and Barons to accompany me to the stables, immediately," he announced. "Our emissaries have returned prematurely."

Leaving the others behind the King and noblemen strode to the stables where a brutal sight awaited them. The two emissaries had been tied to their horses. Both were still alive but barely, as one had his eyes cut out and the other had his tongue cut out. In all of their pain they had to bring the other back alive to first find their way, then to give the message from the other kingdom. The King himself cut their bonds and sent for the Sorceress to relieve them of their injuries.

"Your Majesty," gasped the one whose eyes were gone. "Prince Thorn has been overthrown by his brother Prince Loke. I know not whether Thorn still lives. His hammer was beside his empty throne and you know he keeps it with him always."

"Who did this to you?" demanded the King. "Loke himself or one of his followers?"

"Loke himself," said the blind man. "The soldiers we inquired about were part of a scouting group to test our borders. They were already amassing there and may have already crossed. We tried to get back as quickly as possible but we are both grievously hurt. I'm sorry we failed you."

"You did not fail," said the King forcefully. "You made it back alive and have done your duty at a painful price. You and your families will never want for anything ever again."

The Sorceress arrived at that moment, dismayed to see what faced her. With distress she placed a cool hand on each man's forehead and relieved their pain but by her look it was obvious she could not restore what had been taken so cruelly from them. The King stood and faced the noblemen there in the stable with him.

"Lords and Barons, prepare for war. Make haste back to your lands and raise your forces. We will rendezvous near the border of the Kingdom of Green Lands. If you face attack on your own lands send a messenger hawk and we will respond. Go, all of you, now."

He turned back to the two injured men. "I promise we will avenge your disfigurement," he pledged.

He went to Sam. "You haven't been able to see your lands yet, let alone find out the state of them," he said. "I will send you a company of men to support you as you take possession of what is rightfully yours. Take your knights with you as well. Return with an army as soon as you can."

Buchanan had already left, almost running back to his rooms to change into his travelling clothes. Word had already spread to the guests in the garden about the declaration of war and Ileana ran as fast as her tight clothing allowed her to Buchanan's room to see him before he left. She got there as he was just attaching his scabbard to his sword belt. His heavy black leather garb was different from his travelling clothes. There was nothing stylish about them. They had one purpose, combat.

"James," she cried, running to him. "Is it true, there is war?"

"It is true," he said sternly as he looked down at her. "Go back to your world, now, before the fighting reaches the castle. Truthfully I don't want to lose you but you will be much safer there and I can accept that you are gone if I know you are safe."

"If there hadn't been war and I chose to stay what would you have done?" she asked.

His face softened as he gazed lovingly at her. "I would have married you within a day, made you Lady Buchanan, and spent my life making you happy," he replied.

Pulling her close, he touched her cheek and kissed her gently then more passionately. "Remember me, I remember you. Love me, I love you," he said, his mouth close to her ear.

He picked up his gloves and saddle bags, running from the room. Ileana ran out to where she could see the stables and saw him approach Magnus, who was already saddled and waiting for him. He mounted the great horse, then looked up to the sky and saw her. She blew him a kiss which he received, enclosing his fist upon his heart. Then he was gone, riding out of the courtyard with many other lords who returned to their lands to raise their armies against this threat. She went back to the rooms and started disrobing, looking fondly at the fine clothes he had given her. Putting her travelling clothes on, them being the most comfortable and most like what she wore in her world, she sought out the Queen. She was with the King, as he entrusted command of the palace to her.

"Use all of your future knowledge of warfare to protect the palace, Peg," he said. "I know what you are capable of and I believe in you. Are the Queen's Guard ready?"

"Yes, Steven, they are and will be a formidable force," she said. "Loke won't know what to do with them."

"I'm sorry, your Majesties, I didn't mean to interrupt," said Ileana, not wanting to startle them. "I want to know what I can do to help."

"Does that mean you're staying?" asked Peg, stepping towards her. "You know the decision is final. If he dies in battle you will be alone."

"I love him," replied Ileana. "I want to marry him and have his children. Give me something to do so I don't go mad."

The King smiled and kissed Peg passionately. "I will let you handle this," he said. "The castle is yours Peg. I love you and I will come home."

He also had dispensed with the fine clothes and wore leather clothes meant for combat. He left running for the stables to assemble the soldiers he had on hand, then they headed to the border to prevent Loke's force from crossing.

Peg excused herself briefly, went to her dressing room and changed into more comfortable clothing. When she came out in red leather breeches and knee boots, a leather vest and a white silk tunic, Ileana looked wide eyed at her.

"We can have a set made for you, if you wish," said Peg. "I was a spy on several missions, but I was a soldier first in my world. I already know how to fight in hand to hand combat, although Steven had to teach me sword play. Come meet the Queen's Guard, my own personal company of soldiers."

The two women went down the grand staircase and out the castle to a large building. Modern-looking no entry signs (the red circle with a white horizontal bar) were on it but the Queen went through the door. Various women in leather combat gear stood to attention as she passed and she motioned for them to follow her. Inside, in the centre of the building was an open space where the fifty or so women assembled in front of the queen.

"Ladies, war has been declared against Prince Loke," she announced. "I have been left in command of the castle and the King has asked that you be activated to defend the castle and all it's inhabitants."

There were murmurs of anticipation as the women drew closer.

"I know some of you were considered deviant by the church because you loved other women, some of you wanted the right to choose your own man and not be forced by your family into a loveless marriage, and some of you are just like me and wanted to join the fight alongside your men," she said. "Our King believes in you. This is your time to shine and prove to the world that women are as capable as men. Are you ready to fight?"

"Yes!" yelled the women.

"Are you ready to reveal yourselves to those other soldiers out there and prove you are their equals?"

"Yes!" yelled the women.

"Then gear up, ladies," said the Queen. "The word is given."

Ileana looked at the Queen. "What were you?" she asked in wonder.

"I was a captain in the infantry of the British Armed Forces in Afghanistan," said Peg. "Then I transferred to the Special Reconnaissance Regiment and went undercover in a burka to gather intelligence on the Taliban. I was injured in the line of duty, extracted back to England, and put on desk duty in London at Army headquarters when the building was destroyed by an Al Qaida suicide bomber, but I didn't know that at the time. I landed here in this world. Steven found me in the forest, unconscious, in my uniform, recognizing it as military. He was different than other men I had been with. I didn't have to prove myself with him. When the Sorceress told me my options I chose to stay, then I found out I had already died in my timeline. I couldn't go back but it was better if I chose to stay before I found out."

"I want a set of that clothing," said Ileana. "I don't know how to fight but I'm willing to learn if you can teach me."

"That's my girl," said Peg. "For now, you can be my assistant. Gather the palace staff in the great hall. I'll handle the outside staff. The Queen's Guard are going to make quite a ripple in the fabric of this society."

As Ileana gathered the inside staff she reaffirmed her decision. She would stay and if James survived the war she would marry him and bear his children. In the meantime she would become a soldier and learn how to defend herself. It was her choice and always had been, she just had to make the decision.

Chapter 6>>

Series Masterlist

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I posted 2,690 times in 2022

258 posts created (10%)

2,432 posts reblogged (90%)

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I tagged 2,487 of my posts in 2022

Only 8% of my posts had no tags

#step into my library - 840 posts

#text - 407 posts

#✨rachel replies✨ - 151 posts

#art - 122 posts

#lots of monster love - 98 posts

#response reblog - 96 posts

#my precious 🦨 - 63 posts

#just - 60 posts

#steve rogers x bucky barnes x reader - 56 posts

#and - 56 posts

Longest Tag: 113 characters

#sometimes i feel like posting the rest of my detailed plot points as the next chapter and just being done with it

My Top Posts in 2022:

#5

It’s A Game of Give and Take (Series)

Note: The picture of Bucky is from an edit by @nixakimbo on Instagram. Her edits are brilliant. Go check her out! 

Pairing: Stucky (Steve Rogers x Bucky Barnes) x Female Reader [First Person Narrator, Monster AU]

Series Summary: Love comes in all shapes, sizes, and sums. What starts as a monstrous misunderstanding turns into the most magnificent match. Three friends collide, destined to navigate through life, love, and longing.

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135 notes - Posted January 29, 2022

#4

A Love To Call My Own

Pairing: Stucky (Steve Rogers x Bucky Barnes) x Female Reader [First Person Narrator]

Word Count: 8K

Summary: Nothing is better than your life with Steve and Bucky. Through all the little obstacles that come your way, you always end up in the same spot—together.

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232 notes - Posted January 29, 2022

#3

Another Taste Of Devouring Rush

Pairing: Pagan Gods Stucky x Female Reader [First Person Narrator]

Word Count: 8.8K

Summary: Growing up in a brothel, you’ve known and prepared for the fate that awaits you. But your madam’s scheme is looking for the highest bidder, and two potential bidders have caught your eye—though you’ve never seen their faces.

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399 notes - Posted May 6, 2022

#2

Finish What We’ve Begun

Pairing: DBF Ari Levinson x Female Reader [Second Person Narrator]

Word Count: 4,425

Summary: Your online friend supports you in everything you do—and in everything you want. Perhaps a little too much. 

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402 notes - Posted June 29, 2022

My #1 post of 2022

Right Under Your Nose

Pairing: Steve Roger x Bucky Barnes x Plus-Size Female Reader [First Person Narrator]

Word Count: 8K

Summary: It’s not your fault that you bump into two super soldier and endear yourself to them. Seriously. You have no idea what they see in you, but having friends you can trust implicitly is nice. Right?

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589 notes - Posted February 27, 2022

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