1476 {Bucky x reader}

25

My feet led the way to the main room where we mostly gathered for meals or game nights. I was on autopilot at this point. Bucky had taken all of my energy, and the cold shower I had didn't do a single thing as I had suspected; I prayed that whatever was for dinner could regenerate my energy and fill the emptiness in my stomach. Sex always left me starved—though I ate before Bucky and I made love, I have never felt anything as amazing as what I just felt... making me not only hungrier for food but hungrier to be with him again.

The thought of his hands and teeth claiming every surface and tip of my body made my core burn hot flames. I wanted to do the same to him—kiss every scar on his body just as he had done to me, trace the lines around his thick muscles. I wanted to pump him and watch him... feel him shiver in my grip—

I forced the images out of my mind as I stared at the doors in front of me, familiar wetness gathered between my thighs and I thanked the Lord for undergarments otherwise I most likely would have created a puddle at the base of my feet. I was clothed in the same dull maroon coloured dress that I wore when I first had dinner with everyone, the first day I came here. It's been so long since I've worn it that it fit me better than when I first put it on. I was well fed here with a lot of time on my hands to solely train and build extra muscle, and in over a month I had filled my body with strong curves that I was almost unrecognisable.

The Sceinyte still coursing through my veins didn't make me feel any better, though I was healthfully putting on more weight compared to how slim I was in Venezia with having to skip meals some days while on the run, the flush of my natural colour was stolen from my skin... Some days I would look in the mirror and believe the dead were staring right back. But I never let it control me, I pushed through the tiredness and weakness it left on me. The poison dangled above my head like a raincloud but I continued through the rain, not letting the freezing wet of my clothes stop me from moving forward.

I opened those doors and stepped into the room with confidence—my chin held high and my shoulders back, I smiled at those who looked back at me, then my gaze landed on him. He wore a deep red shirt—almost the same colour as my dress—that was slightly looser than the others he owned. His eyes never left mine as he moved for me, and pulled me into his arms, planting a kiss on my temple and leading me towards the large table set with plates and cutlery.

"This looks better than I remember." He whispers by my ear and trails a finger down one side of my back.

"This is what happens when you don't stop feeding me." I chuckle and allow him to slide my chair into the table after I take a seat facing the large window along the far wall. Wanda usually sat in front of me after she set the table with all the foods she made to fatten us up with. Her cooking never failed to amaze me, every night that we ate together her cooking would get better without a fail.

When Bucky sat down beside me the food was laid out and ready for us all to dig in. I eyed down what was set in front of me and took in the warm smell of steamy vegetables and meats. We began filling our plates until there was almost no food left for perhaps a quick dinner of leftovers tomorrow.

"Everyone must be starving today." Wanda chuckles to herself and catches my eye.

"It's only because you're such a great cook, amica mia (my friend)." I smile before taking a bite of my food. 

All the spices and herbs melted on my tongue at once, I couldn't stop myself then; I engulfed the entire meal as if I had never eaten a day in my life. After, I sat back and examined the rest of the table, the people sitting at it doing the same as I. There were fewer people here than when I first came here and sat at that long table in the other room behind the glass walls dividing each area of this main floor. The most secluded room with real walls would probably have to be the little library just around the corner, I spent most of my time in there... The books from this time are so different from the books I read in Venezia, they are also a lot more accessible. I've never read anything like what I've read here. The books from my time were all just mostly filled with history and culture—even then—everything that was documented and scripted was written on scrolls. I overheard that the first 'printed' book was made in England, the year my father and brothers were executed.