One Shots || Bucky x Reader || ABC

G || Gladiators Galore ***

Note before reading:

Pure Smut of 5000+ words. Oh my god what is wrong with me. Anywho- don't forget to check out my new story The Winter Highlander which will be released over the month of December and finish before New year's. Please leave a comment if you enjoyed Bucky's dick.

Love,

A lightly disfunctional Nina.

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You were unbothered by the seedy crowd the guards were keeping at bay as you made your way up the steps of the arena like if you were making your way up to the gates of heaven themselves. One would not generally expect a royal princess to enjoy attending occasions such as this one but, when your father announced he and your mother would be abroad and needed someone to attend in his stead, you had gladly accepted. Truth be told, you would do most anything to get away from the court and its stuffy boring routines.

So, you breathed in deeply like you were taking in fresh morning air, not at all bothered by the smell of sweat, wine and pure excitement. People felt alive right here.

As you sat yourself down on the dais, you gladly accepted the cup of wine your handmaiden Penelope had poured for you. You savoured the taste on your lips and the fact no one was here to stop you from having a second or even a third cup. The crowd suddenly burst out in excitement, making your eyes move to the centre of the ring where you were graciously welcomed by the ringmaster who kneeled to you, his arms outstretched. All eyes settled on you for a moment, but you graciously smiled back and gave a small nod to the ringmaster before he announced the first fighter.

The first match of many matches started and turned out to be less exciting than you had anticipated. You watched to matches patiently, sipping on wine and acknowledging the winner of each match as was expected of any royal attending. Your eyes were often distracted by the squabbles and wonderfully outrageous interactions that took place in the crowd. There was so much life to be found here. It wasn't until the fourth match when your eyes caught something from which you were unable to look away.

The gladiator that entered the ring had piercing blue eyes and a square jawline which was covered in a three-day stubble. His dark hair was pulled back to avoid getting into his face, though some small strands of hair had already escaped and framed his face beautifully. He wore nothing but sturdy boots and pants, the rest of his body covered in sweat, scars and the look of your sinful eyes. His shoulders were incredibly broad, from which his muscular arms set off in clear contrast to his slim but muscular upper body. You couldn't take your eyes off him, watching his large hand cling around his sword tightly as he swung it around theatrically in preparation for his fight. You felt your throat go a little dry and quickly quelched your thirst with some more wine.

You don't think the gladiator noticed your eyes locked on him as he walked into the pit, his brows dark and focussed as he moved his shoulders around, getting ready to face his first opponent. His opponent, a massive hulk of a man, seemed hardly human to you. You felt a pang of worry as you eyed the massive man's two battle axes which seemed sharp enough to cut a man in half in a single swing.

But, it seemed you had nothing to worried about because the blue-eyed gladiator seemed to easily evade the man's brutal attacks, even taunting him by pushing him around every once in a while. The gladiator's cocky attitude made for a great show and had the crowd screaming in their seats. You were one of the few who calmly remained in their seats, watching the fight unfold.

When he ultimately decided to finish the battle, the giant man was left in the sand with a bleeding leg- unable to continue fighting. You breathed in sharply as, as was customary, the blue-eyed gladiator went down on one knee, bowing his head to you before his eyes connected with yours for the first time. Lost in the way his eyes didn't leave yours for even a second, you almost forgot to nod towards him, as one would to any victor of a match.