#Everything About the Barn Is Haunted | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

moonpascaltoo · 3 months

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╰┈➤18+ none of these stories belong to me! this is a masterlist of all bucky barnes stories i’ve read and reblogged! just thought it would be nice to have them all in one spot! (if your fic is on here and you wish not to be, please let me know!) some will have summaries if provided <3

MASTERLIST •MARVEL MASTERLIST • 04/04/24

𓇼 video games by @twoghostsfromeden

𓆉Sam Wilson attempts to teach Bucky how to play video games, but you have a different idea

𓇼 just like dad by @ladyfallonavenger

𓆉 The Reader loses Bucky in the snap and life presents a whole new challenge.

𓇼 coming in hot by @nexusnyx (ao3 link)

𓆉When your best friend Sarah recommends you a mechanic of her brother’s trust, all you can think about and pray to is that he doesn’t rip you off. Your car is your prized possession and amidst all the worry and concern of your medical studies, drowning in even more debt sounds as suffocating as it would be.

Of course, you never thought of the possibility of the mechanic being the problem. A hot, polite, gentle, and silent-type of problem.

Drowning in debt would be easier to navigate than the blue of Bucky Barnes’s eyes.

𓇼wallpaper by @cosmicbucky

𓆉 bucky finds out how to change the wallpaper on your phone, and takes every opportunity he can to do so. until one day he doesn't have the heart to.

𓇼 consequences by @duuhrayliegh

𓇼@ellemj

𓆉 letters to santa pt2

𓆉 need and wants

𓆉 against the rules

🫧 Bucky's trying to fuck you senseless so you'll have to sleep over. Isn't that how a friends with benefits situation is supposed to work?

𓆉 i hate you

🫧 y/n has these weird mind powers where she can feel others feelings or make others feel hers...she accidentally during a very heated fun time projects everything she is feeling to Bucky, basically doubling his pleasure

𓇼 trust by @kgficz

𓆉Set during the end of ‘Captain America: The Winter Soldier’. You had been forced to work as a nurse for Hydra’s soldiers, you never expected The Winter Soldier to be one of them. What happens when he starts to care about you?

𓇼 glitter and goo by @welldonebeca

𓆉 When you have to go on a mission to a different planet together, Bucky is hit by a mating ritual flower, and some feelings you two have been hiding come up

𓇼 accidental pic by @mostlymarvelsstuff

𓆉Reader recives Buckys nudes accidentally

𓇼 just friends by @cadaverousnight

𓆉A night of drinking makes Bucky bold and a harmless text makes him bolder

𓇼 @espinosaurusrexex

𓆉Worlds Collide

🫧 The world is ending. And there are two types of people: The ones that embrace the last pieces of happiness left, and the ones that just don’t bother anymore. When those two clash, there’s no way of knowing what will happen. But maybe, some hopes and dreams aren’t so different after all and the both of them get a chance at becoming more than just acquaintances.

𓆉 refuge

🫧 You had a track record of cracking tough cases, but this one proved to be your breaking point. The Winter Soldier was out there, thirsting for blood, operating in total anonymity, and leaving a trail of bodies in the cold Colorado snow. Then, just as a snowstorm was about to paralyse the town, Bucky Barnes appeared on your doorstep – lost, sweet, and in dire need of help. It all seems too good to be true, but what happens when his secrets come to haunt him and Bucky’s blurred past reveals a predicament neither of you saw coming?

𓆉happy little accidents

🫧 In a world after the war, Bucky tries to get pieces of his old self back by joining an art class. He meets you and instantly falls head over heels. Now he just has to work up the courage to ask you out.

𓆉serious questions

🫧 Bucky agrees to go on a date to make his colleagues shut up. Now, he just feels sorry for the poor woman that has to spend an entire evening with him. He really tries to make it work, though, because he actually enjoys her company.

𓆉 bad boys don’t buy flowers

🫧 Bucky would have never thought, he’d be chasing after a girl. Not when all of them usually fell at his feet. But when he finds himself entangled in a deal born out of a desperate argument with his assistant, he realizes there is nothing he wouldn't do for you: The independent florist who is adamantly dragging him to the homeless shelter every chance she gets. There is just one problem: Bucky doesn't know how to tell you. And the teasing from his friends is certainly not making things easier for him...

𓆉request oneshot

𓆉 remember me

🫧 After a fight against the most notorious Hydra agent of all, Steve and you discover that your assumed diseased friend Bucky is still alive. Old wounds resurface as you are confronted with the grappling reality that you have lived vastly different lives for the past 70 years. Will he remember your shared history? And most importantly: does he still feel the same?

𓇼 @pellucid-constellations

𓆉 unexpected

🫧 With all of his rough edges and impassive glances, Bucky Barnes looked to be the last person you’d find at an elementary school bake sale. Too bad Steve couldn’t make it, and dealing with a class hopped up on sugar wasn’t a feat you could manage alone

𓆉 i need him like water

🫧 You think Bucky’s having an affair. He thinks… well you aren’t sure what he thinks. But he must notice the living room light is left on. Every night.

𓆉 flowers in the compound

🫧 That girl from the flower shop seems to be taking up a lot of Bucky’s time.

𓆉 request one shot

🫧 You knew Bucky didn't like his arm. You just didn't know how much until he accidentally hurt you with it.

𓆉 counting

🫧 Time heals all wounds. Bucky’d been holding onto that proverb ever since blip. But time had never been particularly kind to him, so he opted to keep track of the sweet girl’s in his apartment building instead, the one that made him banana bread and took him to diners at two in the morning. Sometimes, you didn’t keep the same schedule. That made Bucky panic.

𓇼 everybody talks by @nickfowlerrr

𓇼 @buckyalpine

𓆉come back to you

🫧 What happens when a time travel mission ends up with a version of Bucky from the 40′s standing on the time travel platform.

𓆉 did you hear

𓆉 40s bucky w/ nurse!reader

𓆉 sunshine

𓆉 spiral

𓆉 pick me

𓆉 untouched

𓆉 tongue twister

𓆉 wait what pt2 pt3 pt4

𓆉 can you not pt2 pt3

𓆉 choices pt2

𓆉 drabble

𓇼 aching by @bbyboybucket

𓆉After Reader gives Bucky a massage, he realizes how much he likes her touch

𓇼 tiny match maker by @jamdoughnutmagician

𓆉 Adjusting to his new life outside of the superhero business, Bucky makes the acquaintance of a very young, inquisitive girl.

𓇼 metal arm brrr by @bombsonboard

𓆉 Every problem needs a solution. Bucky just isn't the biggest fan of yours.

𓇼 the cards were dealt by @bucky-fricking-barnes

𓆉Bucky and Y/N are the children of the two most prominent mob bosses in New York. When their parents use them as part of a deal, they’re left to figure out how their lives fit together.

𓇼 @holylulusworld

𓆉 a different kind of valentine pt2

🫧 Your fiancé breaks your heart on Valentine’s Day out of all days.

𓆉 happy birthday big grump

🫧 Your new neighbor is a professional grump. No reason to not be nice to him on his birthday.

𓆉 april fools day (stucky x reader)

🫧 Steve and Bucky ask you to join their prank.

𓇼 siren be bound to me by @darkdemeter

𓆉He is your captain. There is no place you'd rather be than by his side, nothing you could ever want for that is not him. You owe everything, your entire self, to him.

And yet overboard and on the tide you set sail across in search for a great and ancient treasure, a song continues to seep through the cracks of your heart and soul... a song so familiar yet unknown.

Forgotten. And Bucky reminds you yet again that there no place else for you that isn't beside him, that there is nothing out there

𓇼 to have and to hold harm by @queers-gambit

𓆉after rescuing you from kidnappers, you overhear your boyfriend-turned-savior complain about how clingy you've become

𓇼 @thighs-of-betrayal-blog

𓆉 jealous bucky

𓆉 request oneshot

𓆉 hold the door

🫧 You’ve never met your new neighbor, not until an incident happens involving the apartments elevator.

𓇼 out of practice by @drabbles-mc

𓆉 reader is a mom, bucky hasn't dated in like 70 years

𓇼 @jobean12-blog

𓆉 next door to love

🫧 When you made the move to the city you never expected your new neighbor to be so sweet and helpful...or hot.

𓆉 this spells love

🫧 Bucky is your best friend and he really is the best but he wants more, he wants everything, but the idea that it could ruin your friendship and he could lose you is too much...

𓆉 boom clap

🫧 Before tonight you wouldn't have been able to label your relationship with Bucky but after he gets home earlier than expected from a mission and shows up at the bar everything changes.

𓆉 everything you want

🫧 there’s no one you trust more than your husband and he always knows exactly what you want.

𓇼 meet my family by @skaye44

𓆉Your parents want to meet your boyfriend Bucky which you agree, but the whole family invites itself along for the meeting.

𓇼 my sun my star pt2 pt3 by @cosmos-coma

𓆉 You wait up late for your boyfriend Bucky to return from his mission, but it isn't Bucky who finds you

𓇼 @mrsbarnesblog

𓆉 my everything

🫧 The last thing that Bucky ever expected to see was the love of his life from the past trapped in one of the Hydra bunkers in the cryofreeze chamber. Yet here he was almost two days later, staring at your still unconscious body through the window at the medical wing, imagining the horror and disgust on your face when you found out that he was no longer the innocent and happy boy you knew before

𓆉 i t rust you

🫧 when Bucky comes back from a mission with a knife wound there is only one person who can convince him to get help

𓇼 5+1 by @mrs-illyrian-baby

𓆉 Whether it's on a mission, a work event or a holiday, your sleeping arrangements never seem to work out as planned. It doesn't really bother you until...it does. Confronted with a night sleeping apart, you and Bucky finally talk

𓇼 just like that by @navybrat817

𓆉Bucky suggests staying in a hotel together before an undercover mission, which would be fine if you didn't have a massive crush on the super soldier.

𓇼 @sergeantbuckybarnes

𓆉 begin again everything i wanted

🫧 When you go to meet your friend at her work you see a cute guy had been stood up, so you’re going to be the best date of his life.

𓆉 amnesia

🫧 During a fight in Madripoor you get hit in the head resulting in forgetting the last ten years of your life. And most important, your boyfriend.

𓇼 @angrythingstarlight

𓆉 diamonds

𓆉 chubby!bucky

𓆉 more chubby baker! bucky

𓆉 blow me away

🫧 You just discovered that your boyfriend has never had a blowjob before and that’s a travesty. Good thing you’re about to blow his mind.

𓇼 @literaryavenger

𓆉 not so bad

🫧 It's Bucky's birthday, but doesn't want to make a big deal out of it.

𓆉 happy birthday

🫧 It's your birthday and the only person who doesn't seem to be excited about it is you

𓇼 body and soul by @theladybarnes

𓆉 Reader has a conversation with Sam that leaves her a little confused before her date with Bucky. Includes probably the best romance movie quote to ever grace films.

𓇼 you’re my desire pt2 by @marvelouslizzie

𓆉Your best friend drags you out on a double date. You were supposed to be Steve Rogers' date, but plans change pretty quickly and you end up in Bucky Barnes' arms.

𓇼 she chose me by @notafunkiller

𓆉Steve's hopes get crushed when he wrongly assumes you'd choose him over Bucky.

𓇼 bucky has a crush by @assembletheimagines

𓇼 buckyvision by @fictionalmemoirs

𓆉 pt1 pt2 pt3 pt4 pt5 pt5.5 pt6 pt7 pt8 pt9 pt10

𓇼 @christowhore

𓆉 eye for an eye

🫧 you come home one night to find bucky in bed with another woman. after threatening divorce, he begs for your forgiveness and tells you he'll do anything. he should’ve known to always be careful with what you wish for.

𓆉 just one more minute

🫧 you grow tired of bucky constantly leaving you in dark when it comes to his feelings. finally, you have enough.

hopefully all links work, let me know if not <3

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #marvel #marvel x reader #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes series #bucky barnes smut #bucky barnes fluff #bucky barnes angst #bucky barnes oneshot #winter soldier #winter soldier x reader

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justreadingfics · 4 months

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Sensitive Topic - A "Looking For a Heartbeat" One-Shot

Words: 4k+

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Summary: Six years have passed since Bucky and you got back together. You are married and you’re pregnant with your second child. Everything’s great. Until a very sensitive topic from your past comes back to haunt you.

Warnings: 18+, Smut, Jealousy, Angst, Fluff, Mention of Past Relationships, Part of a Series, Pregnancy kink, Pregnancy sex.

Based on this request: Smutty idea:

Sometime after they got back together, Reader goes through a brief period where she feels insecure about Bucky and Anna's past relationship and intimacy, so Bucky shows her all the ways in which he only ever touched and made love to Reader, not Anna.

A/N: Thank you Anon for the request/idea (sorry for taking so long), and thank you @flordeamatista for being such an amazing beta.

Masterlist

Series Masterlist

It's been six years.

Six. Fucking. Years.

You keep telling that to yourself, sitting on the couch of your shared apartment, running your hand with a wedding ring over your swelling belly.

You are married and pregnant with your second child with him.

And he loves you.

You.

So why the hell is your mind drifting back to that particular topic… that very sensitive topic, making your nerves burn with that twisted little feeling in your gut?

Jealousy…

Maybe you can blame it on the mess of hormones you’ve been going through. You don’t remember being quite like that when you were pregnant with Summer, your first child. The mood swings weren't constant then.

This second pregnancy, though, has been all about feelings swirling inside you unbidden. One second you could be laughing and dancing with Summer at one of her cartoons, the next you would be bawling your eyes out at the same fucking cartoon.

All of your feelings are mixed up. This one right here being the newest addition to the pack.

And it sucks. It so fucking sucks.

10 minutes before…

A light humming escapes your lips as you set the lemonade jar and glass on the trail. A smile plasters your face as you grab the set and head towards the new room.

The new baby’s nursery.

Your second daughter.

Well, he doesn't know it's a daughter. With Summer, your first, he chose to discover the sex, while you preferred to wait. Now he chose otherwise while you knew the sex.

You can't wait to see his face when he sees a baby girl. He’s such an amazing dad to Summer and already is for this one, whose name you still must figure out. You have yet to talk about the options, but between your work with the Avengers and his own as a stay at home dad (as he so proudly likes to call himself), time is short. Just now, he’s taking the little time Summer is at School to work on the new nursery.

Jesus, that firecracker of a girl is already a handful.With two of them, what are you and Bucky going to do? The thought makes you smile fondly.

Your memory flashes back to six years ago, when you were preparing lemonade for Bucky and Steve, who were working on Summer's bedroom.But that time you weren’t married still.

God…you had no idea what you two were at that time, practically living together, pining for each other like crazy, but none of you daring to step further, too scared to do so.

The memory makes you smile harder. You almost kissed him while he felt Summer kicking, placing his hands on your belly for the first time… only to be cockblocked by Steve…

Now, looking at the life you two have built together, that time seems like it happened ages ago. Another life. You know now that everything happened as it should be and you’re exactly where you are supposed to be.

With him and your little family.

And well, no Steve this time, you chuckle to yourself pushing the door to the nursery with your elbow.

The view before you makes you suck in the chuckle down your throat.

Bucky.

Your husband.

Shirtless.

Sweaty back to you as he’s up on a ladder, finishing to stick the teddy bear’s wallpaper. Pants hang low on his slim waist. Back muscles flex with the movement of his arms.

His fucking hair half loose half pulled back in a high bun. Like a damn warrior… an extremely hot one.

Goddammit.That man knows how to make your throat dry and you breath hitch without even trying. A sweet little coil twists your belly and lower. The tray feels heavy in your hands while your thoughts turn into images of you running your tongue up the muscles of his back to his neck, wrapping your arms around his broad frame and feeling his warmth against yours.

That’s when it hits.

And everything shifts.

Did she ever do that to him?

Did she ever touch him like that?

Did he like it when she touched him?

The mere thought is unbearable, agonizing.Cold lodges in your chest, freezing out all the growing heat you just felt.

You don’t wait to see if he knew you were there before you leave the tray on the working table and head to the living room with heavy feet to sulk on the couch where you are now.

Fuck.

You’re sure the trip down to memory lane ended up driving your thoughts to her.

Anna.

You haven’t thought of her in ages. The woman Bucky was in a relationship for the first months of your pregnancy with Summer. As much as it hurts to admit and remember, he wasn’t there with you then.

He was with her.

But in all honesty, you know you have no reason to be thinking of her now or to be feeling like you are. You and Bucky have been through so much to get where you are now and you love each other.

He loves you and only you, there’s no doubt of that.

Reason, however, is not what’s guiding your feelings now and bile rushes up your throat at the intrusive images of them touching each other. Of him touching her in a way he touches you now.

She got to see him, hold him, touch him. He touched her. You can't get rid of the thoughts.

He had sex with her.

The two of you have talked about his relationship with Anna, but you never actually got to that specific topic. He hasn't spoken out loud, and you haven't pushed it with him.

But you knew, of course, you knew.

After all, he was trying hard to make things work with her. And she’s a woman, a beautiful one, and he, well… he’s simply the type of man no woman would kick out of their beds, especially if they’re in love with him like she was.

Your jaw clenches, but you don’t need to turn your head towards the entrance to know he’s there. Don’t need to look at him to know there’s worry etched on his face as he takes you in, sitting there blatantly ignoring him.

“Hey,” he’s smart enough to keep himself halted as he calls you with his soft voice, “Are you ok?”

“Yes.”

“Sweetheart…” He tries and you huff, turning even more away from him.

That’s when he can’t help himself and rushes inside the living room. Kneeling on the carpet right in front of you, he places his hands gently on your knees.

“What’s going on? Did I do something?” He pleads softly.

There’s a hitch on his tone that makes you finally look at him. His beautiful blue eyes are focusedon your face, searching in almost desperation for any sign of what might be happening to you.

The anger you were feeling melts just like that.

“No, my love, no…” You sigh in almost defeat and your hand cups his face instinctively, caressing the light stub shadowing his jaw. You shake your head and then turn away from him, not bearing to look at him when you add, “It´s stupid… You’ll think I’m so stupid.”

“Well… Try me.”

When you glance back at him your eyes catch his bare chest and it’s her hand you picture running over his skin. Your jaw clenches at the offending picture in your mind and that fire, not the good one, starts burning again.

“Was it good?” You shoot.

“What was good?”

“With Anna.” You shift, making his hands drop from your knees.

“What?” He frowns and tilts his head at you.

“Sex with Anna… Was it good?” You keep the sharpness in your voice and cross your arms in front of your chest, staring right at him.

The frown deepens on his forehead and his lips part, as if looking for something to say and finding nothing. Sheer confusion twists his face.

“Fuck…” You sigh, covering your face with your hands for just a moment before looking back at him, holding back the tears threatening to spill. “Forget it, it’s stupid.” You repeat, shaking your head.

As he stares back at you, the confusion on his features starts settling into something else. Something you take as.. empathy?

“It’s not stupid if it’s making you feel bad.” He states matter-of-factly.

“It's just the hormones.” You try to brush it off with a laugh but it just sounds forced, even to your ears. You look away.

But, apparently, Bucky’s having none of it. There’s no trace of mock or amusement on him as he swiftly gets up to sit beside you, his front completely turned to you. Ever so gently, he takes your hands in his and places a kiss on the back of them. The sweet gesture makes your heart jump and you slowly shift to face him as well.

“Tell me what’s on your mind.” He asks, running his thumb over your hands, which he rests on his lap, linked to his.

His words come so naturally to him. Because that’s how it’s been now. You two talk. And it’s been the key to your happiness all these years. So you do just that. You talk to him.

“It’s just…” You look briefly to the floor before gathering the braveness to look back at him. “We never really talked about how far your relationship with Anna went. I know that you two cared for each other and I know. I swear I know that it’s in the past and you love me.” You make sure to make that very clear to him, before shrugging, “But I– Fuck– Something made me think of it, just now, and I kept thinking about you two…”

You take a deep breath. His soft eyes on you the whole time, his willingness to listen prompting you to speak, “You two in bed together… I kept wondering what it really meant for you. How did it happen? How did you feel?.Was it good? I mean–she’s beautiful and–Shit,” You curse under your breath, interrupting your blabbering for a second with a shake of your head, “I know it doesn’t make sense. I’m so-”

“Hey. hey,” He cuts you in, softly squeezing your hands before you could blurt out an apology. “Have I ever told you how I felt when you brought Harry over for that first time? Steve’s birthday, remember?”

You cock your head at him. Almost amused by the absurdity of you and Harry - the man you met at a supporting group - being anything more than friends. Even before you found out he and Natasha had hooked up (and then married), you had never seen Harry like that. You had a suspicion Bucky had been a little jealous back then, but you never really talked about that either.

“Harry? Are you serious?” You ask. A little smile on your lips.

“Dead serious,” he admits, nodding, “I wanted to kill the bastard. I felt like shit. And, honestly, it took me a long while to get over the feeling, even when I found out the guy was head over heels for Nat.” He blows out a puff of air, “Trust me, I understand.”

You let out a breathy smile. He smiles too.

But it's brief.

“I did have sex with Anna when I was with her.” He estates, his face serious again.

Your jaw clenches, the small amusement from seconds earlier vanishing into the air. You know that. It’s the whole reason for that conversation. But that doesn’t make it easy to hear it from him.

“You ask me if it was good?” He continues when you don’t say anything, “When I had sex with Anna, it was always an attempt at something. Trying, trying… It was always something like… an effort.”

You gulp at the admission, and he shrugs, not once avoiding your gaze, “It never felt…” He sighs, searching for the word. “Natural. It never felt natural. So, no. I don’t think good really applies to what it was. Not really. It may make me a jerk to say it, but that’s the truth.”

You have no idea what to say to him. All of a sudden, you wish you hadn’t started that conversation at all. You feel like he’s just revealed something you should be satisfied with, happy even.

But you don’t really know how it makes you feel.

If you would guess, you would say you feel sorry for himand her, even. How hard it must’ve been. To be in a relationship meant and designed in every aspect to make one of them forget someone else.

“And that’s because it wasn’t you.”

As he whispered his words, your breath caught. He reaches his hand, running the back of his fingers over your cheek. You lean against his touch. You have no idea why, but right now you feel so glad you’re here with him, like this. That horrible time in the past.

“It could be her or anyone else. It would never mean or feel like it is with you. And it would definitely never be as good. Not even close.”

He holds your stare and you do it back. So many feelings, so much has gone between you two. Good and bad. All so you could live your love as you can today. He’s looking at you as if he’s feeling all that, too.

And he’s as glad as you are.

“I fucking love you.” His jaw clenches, as if the words come out of him filled with some kind of deep force.

“I love you.” You take in a shuddering breath, letting the mighty power those words carry rush over you.

He shifts on his seat and something in his gaze changes. Just like that, the atmosphere turns into something else.

Oh.

The hormones inside of you are quick to notice the change as something you can only describe as a burning flame twists in your lower belly. You bite your lip, looking down at his. So soft. So lust and delicious.

So yours.

Before you could even think to lean in, he swiftly grabs you and puts you across his lap.

“It’s like my body was made for you.” His voice is low as his hold on your waist tightens. “You drive me fucking crazy… the way you smell…so good.”

He tips his head to run his nose over the dip between your neck and shoulder. Taking in and relishing in your scent.

Your eyes flutter. Your core cries for attention as you feel him already hardening against your ass.

“That thing you do with your fingers on my neck.” He grabs your hand to place it on the spot he just mentioned. You promptly do that little move you know he’s crazy about.

“Yeah, fuck,” he whispers and places a kiss on your neck, making a shiver run down your spine.

“Bucky…” you plead.

“The way you ride me.” He ignores your plea and keeps running his lips on your neck between words.

Desirous words that make your mind spin. “You sound so beautiful when my cock is inside you. Your fucking breasts...”

He shows you his meaning by grabbing a handful of one of your breasts through your dress. It prompts a whimper out of you and your fingers dip into his locks, undoing his bun in the process.

“God you’re fucking sexy, I have to hold myself back sometimes when there’s people around…But there’s no one here… Right, sweetheart?” His voice turns infinitely lower as his metal hand snakes under your dress.

That morning you had decided for a simple short tank top dress with a loose fitting to prepare yourself for the heat you’ve been feeling all the time. You had no idea how much it would come in handy.

Fuck.

You want him so damn much. So damn much it’s burning you. But the bastard, the bastard, keeps his touch under the skirt almost chaste, just massaging the skin and flesh of your thighs.

Not being able to hold yourself any longer, you turn his face to yours and grab his lips in a kiss. The movement is harsh, almost violent. Pouring all your need and desire for him in there.

Responding to the kiss with the same ferocity, bucky fiercely moves your hips with his metal hand and grounds you against the hardness beneath you.

“Do you see what you do to me? Huh?” His voice is hoarse against your lips. His hand moves with you, but he doesn't really have to make any effort as your body moves on its own accord, grinding itself against his.

Longing for a breath, his lips part from your as he leans his forehead against your, “Is it like that for you too? Tell me you want me as much as I want you. All the fucking time.” He grits out.

Words evade you as your hips keep moving against him, chasing a release for the burning sparkles inside your core. So, as a way to show him, you grab his flesh hand under your dress and move higher, moving it under your underwear.

You’re soaked.

He lets out a harsh groan and you bet it’s pure primal instinct when his fingers start to move against your most sensitive spots.

Moaning at the sensation, you bring your arms around his neck, and work on kissing every little piece of him you can reach. His ears, cheeks, temple, lips, neck, his touch is so right. Just where he knows drives you crazy.

God, you love how much he knows you.

You roll your hips in a frenetic rhythm, practically riding his hand and feeling how impossibly harder he’s getting beneath you.

As if he’s feeling the exact same thing, he lets out a guttural groan, “I love you. I want you so much.” His voice rasps as he leans back to look at you. “You’re gonna come for me.” He states rather than ask, and fuck if don’t almost melt at the mix of dominance and desperation of his tone.

You grind harder against his hand, ragged breaths slipping out of your parted lips while you stare right back at him.

“I need to feel you, I need to see you, fuck– I need you.” He pulls down the straps of your dress, leaving your dress bunched up in the middle and baring your breasts for him. He lets out a satisfied hum before dipping his head to suck at one of them.

You let out a loud moan and you arch against his lips with the intensity of your climax, that comes without warning. This only prompts Bucky to suck your breasts harder, going from one to the other with ravenous appetite while you come undone around his fingers

In a reflex, you quickly pull his hand away, the sensations too much, and drop your body limp against him.

You stay like that, sucking in some much needed breaths inside your lungs as he lazily kisses your bare shoulders, wrapping his arms around you.

It’s only instinct, primal and hungry instinct, when you start moving your body, grinding against his hardness, even if the angle of you sitting across his body just doesn’t allow you much.

“Hmm…” His hands travel around over you, “Do you want my cock, babe?” He offers in a sultry whisper.

“You did say something about riding.” You manage to let out between your still panting breathing.

He chuckles and bites his lower lip as, in a swift move, you adjust yourself on his lap, facing forward, while your back is to his chest.

Both of you don’t want to waste any time, so, as you lift a little to pull your underwear to the side, he makes quick work of pushing down his pants. What a sight it is to watch from behind you his thick and hard cock bobbing against his stomach.

He catches your hungry stare and makes a show of giving it a few bumps, “Come and get it. It’s all yours.”

You don’t need to be told twice before you align your entrance to his tip and, with his help, make your descent to sit on him again.

Your eyes shutter and your lips part at the familiar stretch, “Goddammit you feel good.” You breathe, already bringing your hand to circle your clit as you feel him bottom up.

Bucky huffs through his teeth, “Right back at you, honey.” He circles his metal arm around you, grabbing a handful of your breast, as you start moving.

“Fuck… Yeah, baby, that’s it.” He praises, kneading the soft flesh in his hand as you pick up your rhythm.

You're a mess at this point, your dress is a mess, your body is a mess, but you don't care, all you can feel is his cock inside you and your hand on your clit.

All you can listen to is his loud moans mingling with your ragged pants as you ride him hard and fast, your ass bumping against him while he runs his tongue over your back.

You cry out and your pace falters at the electric sensation of your pleasure. “Bucky,” you let out a vicious sound when your second climax reaches you like a wave, making your legs tremble. Your pussy clenches around him.

“Oh, God,” he reacts at the gripping sensation, and you deliberately do it again, just because he sounds so beautiful, “Oh God, oh Baby… Yeah, fuck, just like that.” Between the blabbering words, he takes control of your hips, moving you wantonly around his cock.

It doesn’t take long before he’s spilling his release inside you, groaning harshly and dragging sloppy open mouth kisses over your shoulder.

You lazily roll your hips around him to drag out the pleasure for both of you before you cease the movement and rest your back fully against his chest. He keeps himself inside you while wrapping his arms around your middle. Sighing, he draws slow circles over your belly.

You’re the first to gather the force to speak, “Fuck, that was…”

“I know, fuck… I know.” He agrees, a tad breathless, “You’re the only one who ever made me feel this way,” he adds, still moving his hands around you and kissing your neck from behind you, like he just can’t get enough. A warm sensation settles inside you.

“You’re the only one I ever wanted.” He nuzzles your neck, “Always. No one can compare.” He sounds so honest, a deep and desperate kind of honesty that makes your heart swell with love for him.

You tilt your head so you can look at him. He halts from ravishing your neck to look back at you.

“I know, baby,” You assure, staring deeply into him. You need him to be sure of that, “I love you. You’re the only one I ever wanted, too. Always.”

You lean in and kiss him. Not that desperate and needy kiss from before, but one of love, devotion, peace and assurance. Everything you want you two to have in your relationship.

And you do.

He sighs through the kiss, as if he felt everything you put in there.

That’s when the caressing on your body, your legs, your belly intensifies.

You break the kiss and lift an eyebrow at him when you feel his cock hardening inside you again.

The sheepish look on his face is almost comical. “You look so beautiful when you’re pregnant. And I had to keep my hands to myself last time.” He pouts, before his lips twist into a naughty smile, “Literally”.

A breathy laugh slips out of your lips and, despite yourself, a tight kind of want starts pooling in your lower belly.

He seems to sense that, as something dangerous laces his chuckle, “That firecracker of our daughter will be at school for a little longer, we’ve gotta make it count, beautiful.”

You don’t even have the chance to yelp before he easily handles you and you find yourself out of the sofa and on your all fours over the carpet.

And once again he shows you how much he wants you.

Only you.

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes #bucky x reader #bucky barnes angst #bucky angst #bucky barnes smut #bucky smut #looking for a heartbeat

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urdepressedslut · 1 year

Text

Lovesick

♡ Pairing: tfatws!Bucky Barnes x Fem!Reader, Platonic!Sam Wilson x Fem!Reader

♡ Summary: Bucky is so in love with you it hurts, and he doesn’t know if he can keep his feelings locked away from you anymore.

♡ Warnings: light angst, hints to past suicide attempt, mentions of imprisonment, fluff, bucky being oblivious and adorable

“You’re staring again… Kinda creepy.” Sam mutters to Bucky, snapping him from his thoughts. Which were all of you of course.

Bucky glanced to Sam, smiling with red cheeks at being caught gazing upon you. But he couldn’t help himself. He was so in love with you, it hurt. He was lovesick, his thoughts consumed longing for you. The lack of emotionally and physically connecting with you eating away at him.

Sam smirked at Bucky getting lost in his thoughts again, glancing from him to you with a knowing look. Bucky wasn’t one to express how he felt, but he’d confessed, and Sam knew he was falling apart.

You had come from a rough past, growing and adapting slower than most. You were kept trapped away from any human interaction for five years, which resulted in you becoming a whole different person.

Fact was you didn’t remember who you were before, you had remembered the basics, your name, parents. But that was about it. You felt like you had started over in life, but along with a fresh start you had issues that lingered.

You had been given a second chance at life some would say, but it was a life that would be tainted, haunted with ghosts from your previous one. So was it really a fresh start?

You didn’t know.

You met Sam and Bucky soon after you’d been freed of isolation. They were shocked to find out you had used to be a well respected agent, before everything happened. Feeling terrible that all your training, hard work was thrown away, now having to start all over again. Some was muscle memory, an instinct that never left you. But you found yourself re-training with the two. You found yourself healing slowly in the company of them. Of course you’d grown attached, and so did they. The three of you stuck together, a deep bond having formed.

While you and Sam had more of a sibling bond, there was something extensive about you and Bucky. He was able to empathize with you, knowing full well how badly you’d suffered, and that was something you’d grown to appreciate. Having someone able to relate, was reliving in a weird way, made you feel less alone.

Bucky had immediately liked you, admiring your strength, finding your kindness infectious. You were a rare pure soul, that didn’t deserve the suffering you’d endured. At first glance he was protective, his mother-like instinct kicking in at the sight of your skittish form.

Months had gone by, and you were doing much better. You were still a little slow, and you became overwhelmed quicker. You were to be treated with a little more care than most. Nevertheless, Sam and Bucky were proud of how far you’ve come.

“You should tell her.” Sam startled Bucky from his thoughts once again, looking over at him with a hesitant expression.

“I don’t know man… I don’t wanna pressure her. She’s been doing so well, I don’t wanna jump the gun and freak her out.” Bucky rambled on, anxiety clouding his mind.

“You aren’t going to freak her out, she loves you Buck. I can tell.” Sam assured him, no teasing tone lingering.

“You can’t know that. Have you talked to her?” Bucky wondered.

“No, but it’s hard not to think otherwise with the way she looks at you.” Sam pointed out.

“How— how does she look at me?” Bucky pushed, not believing he could be that oblivious.

Sam on the other hand, thought he was completely oblivious.

“Seriously Buck? Are you missing your eyes too?” Sam asked incredulously, “She looks at you like you’re her whole world.”

Bucky thought back to the days he’d caught you glancing at him and Sam.

“She looks at you like that too.” Bucky argued.

“It’s different… I’m like a big brother she’s never had,” Sam stated, “Then you… It’s different.”

Bucky took in Sam’s words, and he couldn’t deny that yes, you and Bucky had an amazing friendship. But he was afraid that’s all it was. His chest ached at the thought that you wouldn’t want to be something more with him.

Bucky was about to respond, when Sam interrupted him, grabbing him by his shoulder.

“Your girl is looking this way.” Sam told him, motioning his head to you.

Bucky glanced to you, his eyes meeting with yours. You were holding his gaze, your eyes warm and glowing. It’s like he had never seen it before, but now that he was gazing into your orbs, he felt like your eyes were saying a million words. It was giving him hope, that you might feel the same way.

Bucky excused himself from Sam, heading towards you. Getting closer he was careful not to interrupt the little girl talking with you, the sight making Bucky watch with fondness.

“My friend is being mean to me!” The little girl whined, crossing her arms with a huff.

“Oh, well that’s not okay. Where’s your friend?” You asked, ready to scold a kid for being rude to this sweet girl.

“She’s standing right next to you.” The little girl said as if it was obvious.

Your eyes widened slightly in horror, and glanced to either side of you, furrowing your brows in confusion when you saw no one.

“She is?” You asked her, receiving a nod, “Uh… I don’t see her.”

The little girl started laughing and you faked a smile, scratching the back of your neck.

“No one can see her, she’s invisible.” She told you with a wide grin.

You understood immediately what she was saying, and felt embarrassed that you hadn’t caught on. You weren’t used to hanging around kids, and you weren’t really good at talking to them.

“Of course, how could I forget?” You asked the girl playfully, trying to will your cheeks back to normal color.

Luckily for you, the little girl’s attention span had her running away to a group of kids, leaving you alone with your thoughts. Why did that interaction stress you out so much?

Bucky’s face hurt from how much he was smiling, but he couldn’t help it watching you talk with the little girl. Something about seeing you with kids had his stomach full of butterflies. You made him feel like a nervous school boy with a crush.

“Hey doll, making some friends?” Bucky teased you, and you met his gaze, smiling warmly at him.

“I think so, the kids are adorable.” You told him, the kids even though they were difficult sometimes, they were precious.

“You seem good with kids.” Bucky acknowledged.

“Oh not at all, I was actually very nervous. I feel like I talk to kids like they’re dumb sometimes… And I don’t mean it— Of course not, I just don’t have like any experience with kids.” You rambled on, while Bucky thought you were adorable.

“Well, don’t beat yourself up about it. You’re better with kids then I am.” He admitted, though the kids he’d seen today had taking a liking to him, which warmed his heart.

It was quiet for a moment, the two of you taking in each other’s company. Then you thought of a random question.

“Have you ever wanted kids of your own?” You asked him, your question taking him by surprise.

Bucky hadn’t always thought of the idea, but he found his mind wandering towards the idea more, ever since he’d gotten close with you. Though he assumed it was impossible, maybe back in the 40’s. But after everything that had happened with HYDRA, he wasn’t sure if his body was physically able to.

“Never really thought about it.” He lied, “You?”

“I’ve never really gave it much thought either, but it would be cool to have a mini-me running around.” You admitted, though the overall idea of kids terrified you.

Bucky smiled at the idea of a miniature you, the idea warming his heart.

“Uh, so actually… I wanted to talk to you doll.” Bucky started, scratching the back of his neck nervously.

“We are talking Buck.” You said with a giggle, the sound giving Bucky butterflies.

“No no,” He chuckled, “I mean about something kinda serious. Something that I need to get off my chest.”

Your eyebrows furrowed at the word serious, watching his playful expression slowly fade.

“Oh? Is everything okay?” You asked him, growing concerned.

“Don’t worry, everything’s fine. I just wanna talk.” He assured you, calming you with his genuine expression. "Come on, let's go on Sam's boat."

Bucky grabbed your hand, helping you stand. The two of you walked onto the boat.

You immediately started fiddling around with the helm of the boat, pretending to be at sea. Bucky watched with heart eyes, leaning against the doorway.

“You know…” He started, getting your attention, “I’m super proud of you. For how far you’ve come.”

You smiled at his praise.

“Wouldn’t be here without you.” You told him truthfully, he was your rock. Sam too of course. But Bucky was special.

“I’m always gonna be here to help ya, but you gotta give yourself some credit.” He stated.

“I do…” You started to argue.

“(Y/n)…”

“No I do,” You trailed off, getting serious all of a sudden, “But sometimes I think back when things were pretty bad and… Well you were there. I really do mean it— I wouldn’t be here without you.”

Bucky immediately knew what you were talking about, and he cursed his mind for remembering the haunting image so vividly. You had been at a very low point in your recovery, and you tried taking yourself out of this world. His world. His hands clinging onto your crimson covered wrists was an eye opener, that he didn’t want to live in a world where you didn’t exist. The very thought horrifying him to his core, his body frozen with dread.

“I’m sorry, I don’t mean to bring it up I just—”

“No no, don’t apologize doll,” His voice wavered, “Just hate that you ever felt that way is all.”

Despite rehashing over rough memories, you couldn’t help your chest from feeling warm, seeing Bucky care so much about you, had you feeling fuzzy. He had been so protective over you since that day, and some would call it overbearing, but you found yourself feeling safe. You knew Bucky would stop anyone from even blowing a breath of air your way if that meant you’d be in danger.

Bucky recognized that warm glow in your eyes again, as you gazed into his. He took a deep breath, seeing as this was his best chance.

“(Y/n), I like you… A lot.“ He rushed out, and you were still smiling, no shock shown on your face.

“I like you a lot too Buck.” You shot back, stepping away from the helm and closer to him.

“You— Really?” He wondered if this was all his imagination.

Sam was right? Psh, no way.

“Really Buck. I’m not good at expressing emotions— feelings, or any of that stuff. But I do know that I always want to be with you, I always want you around, even if we aren’t talking to each other. Just knowing you’re near is enough.” You confessed, hoping that what you said made sense.

By the look on Bucky’s face, you assumed you said just the right thing.

“Doll, I’m crazy about you. You’ve got me wrapped around your tiny little finger, I’m yours.” He told you, wrapping his arms around your waist and pulling you to his chest.

“Buck?” You whispered, cupping his face with your small hands, feeling him lean into your touch.

“Yes doll?” He whispered back, looking at you like you were his entire world.

Well, because you were.

“I think I love you.” You told him shyly, your cheeks reddening.

Bucky’s heart nearly gave out at your words, but he couldn’t help the overwhelming rush of joy that your confession had given him.

“I think I love you too doll.”

A/N: my ideas come to me at the most random times, this one came to me a couple days ago while I was eating cereal 🥴🤷🏻‍♀️

#reader insert #marvel imagines #buckybarnes #oneshot #imagine #light angst #fluff #marvel cinematic universe #bucky barnes #the winter soldier #bucky barnes fic #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes fluff #bucky barnes fanfiction

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museandwords · 2 months

Text

taking your light inside (bucky barnes)

Warnings: female reader, pussy eating, reader is a brat, use of 'little girl' in bed (once one reference to reader's pussy), bucky is an animal, reader hates bucky (not really), it's just porn. that's it.

Author's Note: this is pretty much a continuation of this, no plot, we allergic. big thanks to @samodivaa 🫶

This has been your married life.

If Bucky was not out doing god knows what (Something criminal, you’re sure), or the two of you aren’t in society making an appearance, then you’re in bed with some part of Bucky stuffed inside of you.

In various positions.

However he’s feeling that particular day. Lately, he’s been fucking you from behind with your hands held behind your back as he plows into you. He’s been really passionate about his face between your thighs as of late.

You could kill him. You would, you will.

You just have to get your no-good husband out from the spot between your legs where he is buried as he licks long, pointed stripes against your folds, like you’re the best tasting treat he's ever had.

Bucky's intense focus was solely on you, his fingers digging into your hips as he devoured you with an animalistic hunger. He relished in the sounds you make, the way your body writhed beneath him, every movement and noise driving him to further heights of satisfaction and closer to losing control.

Your hand comes down to his hair, you have a tuft of his locks in your fist as you pull. His startling, baby blue gaze darkened as the two of you made eye contact.

"Bucky..." You whine, your eyes screwed tight as he begins to suckle on your clit. He forces out another cry from your plush, swollen lips.

Your legs were brought onto his broad shoulders, he wears your thighs like earmuffs, muting everything else but the sounds you’re making.

Bucky couldn’t get enough of you, your feisty, bratty attitude had trapped his attention and affections in ways no other woman had before.

He would get on his knees for you and he has done so, almost every day.

This was the only way Bucky could get that snot-nosed spoiled attitude out of you, tongue-fucking you dumb until you were nothing but a drooling, whimpering mess.

Your cries of his name spurred him on, his rough beard tickling your sensitive skin as he intensified his ministrations. The taste of your slick on his lips only served to heighten his own arousal, his more primal instincts kicking in to possess and pleasure his wife in every way possible. Your smell is like a drug to him, he can’t get enough.

Your body shivers, feeling that delicious beard burn that makes your toes curl. You aren’t polite or shy enough to stay quiet, even though the house staff can probably hear you all the way in the kitchen.

It’s heaven. Bucky may be a demon from hell, but his mouth and his dick were heaven-sent.

“God…I hate you.” You moan as you push his face further into your folds. This is the only time you’re remotely dominant or aggressive in bed, when he licks your pussy.

It’s also the only time you say that to him.

You actually don’t really hate him, not right now anyway.

You breath heavily, feeling Bucky spread your folds with his fingers as he gives a very hard suck against your clit which causes your hips to stutter.

Bucky pulls away from your glistening core, a string of slick connecting his lips to you as he brings two fingers and plunges them deep into your swollen, sensitive core.

“I know, darling.” Bucky responds as he presses his thumb against the area of your clit and rubs gentle circles. His eyes fall down to where he’s stuffing you full. He can’t get enough of this sight, it literally haunts his thoughts, consumes him, he’s never been so pussy-whipped before.

“But she doesn’t,” He says, cocky and amused as he rubs against that spot inside of you that makes your eyes roll into the back of your skull. “Greedy little girl.”

Shut up, get off me, you mean to say, but all that comes out is a high-pitched squeaky moan.

It’s so degrading too, the fact that you’re naked save for your lacy bra holding your breasts in place while he’s still fully dressed, dress pants and a white button down shirt. His hair was tied in a neat, low bun until you yanked it out of place. Now it’s sticking up where you pulled at it and clinging to his jaw.

You hate how pretty Bucky Barnes is.

Bucky pulls his fingers from you with a loud slick noise and you whine at the loss.

His hands come down as he shoves his hips in between your legs, and he’s moving to work on his belt, not even bothering to remove it fully, just undoes the buckle and works on his button and zipper.

You’re a panting mess below him as you watch, you lift yourself so you’re leaning against your forearms and look up at him with such intensity, so much fire for such a small little thing.

Bucky hums.

“Mrs. Barnes,” He says as he pulls out his thick length from his briefs, he only bothers to push down his pants and underwear just to his midthigh.

He slaps his length once, twice against your soaked folds, and then he rubs his cockhead up and down, letting it catch in your hole. He groans, and his brow furrows as you watch him shiver.

As cool and collected as he pretends to be, he can never hide just how down bad he is for your pussy.

“I don’t know how a spoiled little brat like you has the kingdom of God between your legs.” He says as he sinks into you.

You jolt, never fully prepared for his sheer size as he buries himself to the hilt and he forces a gutted moan out of you.

“Lucky me.” He groans as he rests his forehead against yours, his eyes shut as he relishes in the way your velvety walls cling to him, how your warmth seems to encapsulate him. He couldn’t walk away, even if he wanted to.

Your eyes move over his face, studying the seemingly blissed out expression he wears as he’s inside of you. It’s such a strange thing, to see him in this light; his face tight in pleasure. It makes him look more like a man than the demon he pretends to be.

“Move.” You hiss. Bucky sucks his teeth.

“As you wish, Mrs. Barnes.” Bucky doesn’t need to be told twice. His right hand is planted hard on the headboard as he pulls back from your face, his left hand, the cold metal making you gasp as it slides up and spreads your right leg further before he brings it to rest over his shoulder as he begins to rock his hips into yours.

He likes how flexible your hips are.

The raw drag of his cock makes your eyes roll as you focus on the feeling.

Each thrust makes you breathless. Every time his cockhead brushes against your cervix you see stars. You’ve learned quite quickly you enjoy the rougher fucks, when he takes you like a mindless animal chasing a high.

Your breasts bounce from the sheer velocity of the way Bucky fucks into you. The softness of your tummy has Bucky salivating, his hand comes to rest on it.

His eyes dart between his hand on your tummy and the vision of his cock sinking into your wet heat over and over.

You focus mostly on the way your walls cling to his cock, you relish in the feeling of his thick length filling you up. That’s your favourite part.

Bucky licks his thumb before he brings it to your clit and begins to rub circles. Your chest heaves as your pussy throbs tightly around him. You both groan and Bucky throws his head back as his eyes flutter closed.

You’re close now, he’s been working you for the past hour with no relief, he wanted you to cum on his cock today, and that pressure in your depth has been growing, Bucky’s going to make it pop.

Your hand comes up to hold your left breast as your right hand comes to wrap around his hip, your fingers grip into the side of his ass as you try to make him go deeper. He laughs breathlessly.

“I’m all yours, darling.” He breathes as he begins to grind into you, he hovers over you as he folds you up, his pubic bone rubbing against your clit as he shifts. You moan, loud, and before you can even think, you’re pulling him into a kiss, your hands on his face as your mouth meets his.

And you explode. You fall apart on his cock and your walls tighten around him. You pull him into you, refusing to let go as your pussy pulsates and you moan into the kiss. Above you, Bucky seizes as your pussy squeezes him and forces him to cum.

“Oh, fuck.” He groans against your mouth as he begins to milk his orgasm, his hips snapping short and sweet against yours which causes some aftershocks in both of you. You can feel him throb inside of you. You’re both breathless as you look at each other.

Bucky’s expression reads satisfaction, relaxation, and something else you can’t pinpoint.

Before either of you can think, he leans down and kisses you again. His softening cock still inside as he wraps you in his arms and pulls you flush against him. You whine into the kiss for a moment, though you don’t fight it. Not this time.

When he pulls away, he kisses your face, your cheeks, your nose, your chin, up your jaw.

“Don’t…say that again.” He breathes, he tries to be firm but there’s a layer of vulnerability, of begging in his voice. Your brow furrows.

“I can’t listen to you telling me you hate me.” He admits, his forehead rests on your breast bone as he places soft, gentle kisses there.

He’s always oddly affectionate after sex.

Your gaze softens as your hand comes up to cradle the back of his head. You’re always a little thrown off when it comes to showing him affection, but you do it each and every single time.

“Then what do I say?” You ask, your eyes are on the ceiling because if you try to look at him you’re going to melt.

“That you love me.” Bucky says immediately. Your stomach drops, and your heart flutters. He bites your breast and you let out a cry.

The audacity of this man never fails to catch you off guard.

#bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you

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leviathanleva · 22 days

Text

Daisy

Pairing: Cooper Howard/The Ghoul x Fem Reader [DARK FIC]

Description: Cooper Howard was not a kind man, he cared for nobody, but himself. Then he found you, a lost little dove, barefoot and crying, torn dress and big innocent eyes staring at him like he was a hero. He knew you’d be a burden, he knew you couldn’t survive in the wasteland, he was doing you a favor.

But he couldn’t pull the fucking trigger...

........................

[5.7k words]

🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼

Chapter 8 "The Lie"

It’s been a journey.

Parched and starved, you’d been dragging your feet over the desolate wasteland deep into the night. The promise of a guesthouse only a mile or two away keeping your spirits up and your soreness to a minimum. Your head was still fuzzy with the trauma, as expected after taking such a brutal blow.

A pale coat of dust covers your boots, the blood has ceased oozing and now clings to your hair and skin like haunting war paint.

Cooper hadn’t said a peep about what had happened earlier, didn’t complain about you keeping his hand hostage either, just let you soak his glove in sweat while indulging in chain-smoking.

The lights coming from the inn are a beacon in the darkness, they slice through the shadow of the night, beckoning you with whispers of a bed and a full night of sleep. An exasperated sigh leaves you when you finally see it.

It was once a farmhouse. Large three-story mansion built of wood and reinforced by steel sheets only after the apocalypse. There’s a barn to the side, presumably turned into storage, a handful of soil beds from which vegetables are sprouting, a small herd of brahmin lay huddled in a corner, under a flimsy tin roof, sleeping in the remnants of a stable. A large rusty gate hugged by a sturdy fence, electric too once you were close enough to hear the distinct buzz. The generator rumbles behind a locked door in the ground, the basement if your speculations are correct.

It’s a fine establishment by today’s standards, well-known for offering respite for travelers because it was plopped in the middle of nowhere.

Regardless of the newfound relief, your pace stays the same, too achy and drained to rush towards the finish line. It’s a slow and agonizing walk, feels like an eternity, but as you climb the front porch steps you crack a smile. Your hand is promptly released and you take your usual place behind the ghoul, the medical folder still pinched under your armpit and looking like an old pancake.

The rich yellow hues shining through the dirty windows illuminate the creaky wooden boards beneath your shoes, the old benches on either end of the porch, and the large urns hosting a blooming tato plant each. There’s a mud-caked mat at the entrance and you can scarcely make out a “welcome” sign beneath all the grime.

Cooper spares you a glance over his shoulder, heavy-lidded eyes and husky tone indicating he’s just as exhausted as you.

“Don’ wander. No talkin’ t’ strangers.”

“Got it.” you nod, suppress the urge to hold onto his coat, and follow after him through the door.

You’re flooded with cigar smoke and the smell of spirit. Methodical chatter hangs in the air, mixing with the fluent jazz from the jukebox, random paintings are strewn across the walls, hiding the peeling wallpaper, some of the hanging lights are intact, some are missing their glass domes. Simple wooden chairs and circular tables, mostly vacant aside from a few rugged personas stuffed in the darker crooks of the establishment.

You take in everything under lowered lashes and caved-in shoulders.

It’s a cozy place, an oasis nestled along the road, a lovely little safehouse that welcomes any who have the caps.

The bar looks out of place, it’s too new and polished compared to everything else, dark oak shining under the soft glare of the old lightbulbs. A plethora of bottles are on display behind it, most of their labels scratched out or simply missing.

“Where’s Monique?” Cooper rests a palm against the counter and cocks his head to the female ghoul absentmindedly wiping at a glass with a stained rag.

“Holy Moly…”

You’re awestruck at the sight. She’s the second ghoul you’d ever seen and a woman at that. Despite the decomposition, she’s still retained her feminine features, one could even call her exotically beautiful. Donned in a full-body apron, a turquoise polo peaks under it; her eyes are sunken but lively, however the veiny red sclera makes you cringe. It just looks damn painful.

“Nice to see you too, Cooper.” she barks a laugh, her voice – distorted by radiation, but still cheery and friendly. “She went to bed so I took over. What’ll it be?”

“Got any rooms left?”

You’ve decided to focus on the hand-drawn menu hoisted above the liquor cabinet, scrunching your nose at the radroach skewers and cricket potato stew. There isn’t much that would suit your pallet, especially not the yao guai jerky. What even is a yao guai? Another overgrown bug?

The drinks have more variety than the food, even though most are alcohol. There’s still just plain water, specified as ‘mostly rad free’, then there’s tato and cactus juice. The options aren’t mouth-watering, but the drawings next to the headers are cute, some of them are even colored in.

“Got two, lucky for you.” she pauses then and the friendliness on her gaunt face gives way to confusion. She leans to the side as you step out of Cooper’s shadow to get a better view of the menu, her mouth shrinks out of its prickly smirk. “Oh, hello.” her curiosity quickly blossoms into sweet glee as she stares you down with startling warmth, then tosses the bounty hunter a passing comment. “Made a new friend, I see.”

You stiffen as the realization of her attention on you sinks in. Rolling your eyes to her, you find her beaming and you can’t help but return her welcoming smile with an awkward one. You fix your slouched posture, straighten up because first impressions are important, and give a polite nod.

“Mitzi, good to meet you. And you are?” she’s all giddy grins and wavy hands, finding you as a good treat after a long time of only having gruff wastelanders as customers. And you’re more than happy to humor her, she matches your character perfectly and you feel her filling up your energy levels instantly.

Your lips part as you fully intend to reciprocate her brightened mood.

“I’m – ”

“–An annoyance.” a dismissive scoff, one which has you shoot Cooper a nasty look. He’s indifferent, doesn’t bat an eye at you, instead nudges his chin at the untouched bourbon bottle. “I’ll take that one, room too, don’ care which one.”

Mitzie turns to reach for the bottle and sets it down next to the bounty hunter before sifting through the ledger hidden behind the counter. Keeping the privacy of her customers comes as a nice surprise. She mumbles something soft, supposedly checking the available rooms, then looks up at you.

“Shower or nah?”

“Excus – ” you blurt, then stop and suppress the need to ask for elaboration. “Shower.”

If she was alluding to the possibility of taking a proper bath, you’d cry. After months of rubbing soap into your sweat and using saliva to wash out toothpaste, you felt disgusting. Dirt had accumulated in places you didn’t even know existed and all of this excluded the greasy mess your hair had become. At times, you wanted to crawl out of your skin with how crusty you were.

And the stench was a whole other story you fought valiantly to ignore.

“Gotcha.” she hums and stuffs her hand into a jar before pulling out a large, rusted key and handing it to Cooper. “Master bedroom, second floor to the left.” her baby blues dart back to you. “Just so you know, showers cost extra.”

You hear the disgruntled groan and your expression sours.

Of all the things he dismissed to save up on caps, basic hygiene was one which you fiercely disagreed with. You’d already had this conversation multiple times, him walking around smelling like a dumpster fire with no regard for how that made him look was unacceptable. His clothes needed washing, he needed washing, and you’d scrub him clean if you didn’t know he’d stab you if you so much as tried to bring your soap bar anywhere near him. Both of you were in dire need of a proper bath. You’d work him into the idea, you’d already succeeded once when you were less acquainted.

With a sigh, you blindly pat the side of your backpack in search of the pocket holding your caps.

“How much?”

“Thirty per shower.” she answers simply, then perks up to holler at a behemoth of a man waving her over from the back of the bar. “I’ll be right there!”

“Deal.” you chirp and point at the menu. “And a cup of brahmin bone broth, please and thank you.”

“Right away.” Mitzi graces you with another cheeky smile before rushing past the counter and through a door to the kitchen.

You’re close enough for the smell of roasting meat and herbs to waft into your nose, your stomach twists with hunger and gargles in protest. You clear your throat in embarrassment, the jazz music does a wonderful job of disguising the ugly toon. A clatter of pots comes from behind the kitchen door followed by a meager slur of curses that has you hoping your order wasn’t the cause.

After gathering enough caps, you extend your arm to leave them next to the register. Your attempt is shot down by a sharp slap to the knuckles, you glance up at Cooper and prepare to debate why you should be allowed to wash up and spend the money for it. He snuffs out your bubbling protests with a stern look and a dismissive flick of his wrist.

Mitzi reappears shortly after with a tray in hand.

“Here you are.” she lays down a steaming tin can in front of you and scoots to the register, which is mostly used for decoration. “You want the total or separate tabs?” she scribbles down each of your amounts and lifts her eyes to Cooper.

“Total.” he gruffs out and litters the free space on the bar with scoops of caps fished out from his bandolier.

You have to bite down on your bottom lip to prevent a grin and tuck away your money. He definitely knew how to turn your legs to pudding and tie your tongue into submission. Sadly now that meant you couldn’t complain for at least a week.

“Hundred-fifty. Oh!” the waitress sloppily wraps a rag around your drink and squeezes it in place. “Here. I tend to forget smooth-skins have more delicate hands.” she winks at you and proceeds to gather up the payment, combing through it with a long bony finger and counting. “We’ll get to know each other another time.”

Once she was sure of the amount, Mitzi stuffs it all in the hefty pickle jar labeled ‘earnings’, then sealed it shut and stored it somewhere around her feet. She’s back to polishing shot glasses, gives both of you a ginger smile and nudges her head towards the staircase to the right of the counter.

“Enjoy your stay.”

You take the broth and let your fingers soak in the warmth as you follow behind Cooper with bated breath and a spring to your step.

A bed and a shower, you were being spoiled tonight. The covers and sheets are probably old, the room itself is most likely slowly rotting away and covered in grime and dust, but it’s heaven compared to sleeping on the ground with one eye open due to threats skulking about. The last time you’d managed to get a full night of sleep was back in Tillburry, and just the thought of being undisturbed had you going through a plethora of pleasant jitters.

You give the greasy drink, your dinner, a good sniff while climbing to the second floor.

It’s not an aroma that makes you salivate, but you’ve missed the luxury of warm food and the herbs do well at overpowering the stench of boiled beef. Even under the weak light in the corridor, you can tell it’s fatty enough to keep you sated for a while, it’ll have to do. The can is used as a cup for hot drinks, the broth came from elsewhere, either that or you were scammed into eating dog food judging by the peeling-off sticker of a poodle.

You thump over a long red carpet rolled out on the floor, squint at the hacked cough coming from one of the rooms, and then stop a foot away from the ghoul.

He jams the key in and after a deft click, the door creaks open.

Your refuge for the night isn’t as bad as you’d imagined. The bedding is mostly white minus a few stains, the wallpaper is torn a tad, but intact and it’s all relatively clean, there’s even a few trinkets lying about to bring more life. A wall clock is hung above the curved sofa next to the window, it’s not working but it is a nice touch. There’s a night lamp on one of the nightstands, a wide drawer, an ashtray on the table along with two more chairs in case there were more than two bodies in the room. There’s even a deck of cards next to the crystal alcohol glasses.

You watch Cooper set down the bourbon and slouch against the couch with a long exhale before shrugging off his hat and coat and letting his eyes shut for a moment.

“Darn hell, what a day…”

Safety is painted in his mannerisms, you smile adoringly at him and shut the door behind you.

True to her word, there indeed was a bathroom. You switch the lights on and peek inside. The tiles are cracked or missing, it’s old but clean and there’s a bottle of Rad-X among the diluted shampoo bottles. Lovely!

You hear a ripple and whirl your head to see the ghoul lighting a cigarette. His feet are perched up on the table and crossed, his bandolier thrown over the backrest of the sofa, he takes a long drag and strains to push open the window.

“You know Mitzi?” you ask and shed your backpack with a delighted moan before kneeling to zip it open. With your trusty Vaseline and a tiny vodka bottle in your free hand, you join him on the couch, sitting on the opposite end to give him as much space as possible.

“Hm? Sure I do, met some years ago.” he twists to partially face you and pinches the smoke between his lips before grabbing for the bourbon. “Thought you’d wash up first thing. Changed yer mind?”

You chuckle at that and dab the vodka into your palm before rubbing it between your fingers. It’s a mundane little habit you picked up since you learned vodka specifically was almost pure spirit nowadays. Considering the unthinkable things you touched on the hour, from blood to dirt and worse, and without a sink to wash your hands, you needed this at least before eating.

“I’ll shower later. Wanna take a breather first.” you cradle the broth to your chest and take another good whiff before sighing. “Plus, I’d like to drink this before it goes cold.”

“Hope you know tha’ ain’t all brahmin, Darlin’.”

“Let me stay ignorant, please.” you mumble before taking a long sip.

Cooper cackles but decides not to ruin your dinner. You watch him pour a glass of bourbon for himself, mull, and then pour a second one before setting it next to you.

“Mm?” you give him a crooked look, frown with scrunched eyebrows.

“Heavy broth goes good with booze.” he gestures for you to take the offer with a keen smirk. “ ‘Bout time we pop your cherry anyway.”

“Gosh, don’t call it that!” you hiss through a flustered face, but take the glass and ignore his mocking grin.

The jukebox can still be heard from the main floor, it calms your apprehension and you twirl in your spot to open the window fully, looking to the sky for further comfort. You’re intentionally stalling as you swish the bourbon around, elbows rested on the windowsill and gaze lifted to the cluster of stars. A chilly breeze caresses your bare shoulders and you shudder.

“Thought you’d get bored gawkin’ at nothing by now.” The ghoul spits, watching you like a hawk because he refuses to miss your first time trying alcohol. You wish he wasn’t, it adds unnecessary expectations and you’re unaware of how exactly you’re supposed to react. By the smell alone, you’re guessing it won’t taste pleasant.

“I’ll never get tired of the sky.” you muse out loud with an unreadable expression, then face him briefly. “Has it changed over the years?”

You don’t know how old he is, he’s refused to disclose that with you, but from the subtle hints in the past, it’s been longer than the average person. You wish he’s looser, that he trusts you enough to share more about who he is and where he comes from. He seems to know almost everyone you’ve crossed paths with, could work with any weapon and traversed the wasteland without a compass or map and still know exactly where he’s going.

“ ‘Sides the radstorms, not much.” he rolls his tongue over a mouthful of bourbon, then audibly swallows and scowls. He raises his glass towards you, waiting for you to mimic him. “ ‘Nough stallin’ ya pansy, it ain’t poison. Drink.”

Your nose is already wrinkled at the idea, but you oblige him by lifting the drink to your lips. Holding your breath you take a tiny sip and your skin explodes in goosebumps before the fire registers on your tongue. Your taste buds feel defiled, the foulness makes your eyes pop open and you spit before the urge to gag crawls too high up your throat.

First impression: No.

“Ugh…Ew!” a hand clasps over your mouth, obscuring both disbelief at the fact you’d spat straight against the window and pain at the utter nastiness of the flavor. You take the rag wrapped around your now lukewarm broth and wipe off the evidence with urgency. “How do you like this stuff? It’s awful!”

He’s cracking up a storm on the other end of the sofa, having burst into such an abrupt fit that half his drink was running down his vest. You sneer through a glare, hoping he catches your translucent reflection in the glass and feels at least a drop of remorse for your misfortune.

“Glad to make you laugh.”

He tries to say something, a snippy remark most likely, but his gullet is too dry and nothing comes out when his mouth parts. He washes down the hoarseness with another swig of alcohol and tries again.

“You’re doin’ it all wrong.” he’s all up in your beginner technique, even though you weren’t open to be taught how to become a proper alcoholic. Nasty habit that, but he’s given you no choice. “Gotta let it rest on yer tongue, enjoy the taste ‘n go slow.” he can see you sulking even with your back turned to him, can practically smell the discomfort and annoyance emanating from you.

He tones down the decibels when you refuse to face him. Unlike you, Cooper finds the concept of convincing you that drinking is a fun pastime activity strangely thrilling. That, and he’s a horrid old man who selfishly craves to claim all your first experiences, no matter what they are. It’s a vile desire and he’s aware, but the longer you exist in his presence the further his obsessive protectiveness develops. He chalked it up to you being dumb and defenseless, it was natural to become possessive of you and want to keep you safe.

He’d be caught dead before he let some mangy bastard touch you before him or be present for your first cigarette. And he’d take this revelation to the grave because he was too prideful to admit to his urges. This was for your protection, better him, a person you trusted, than anyone else.

“Come ‘ere.” he takes off his gloves and extends a hand to you, beckoning you in the softest way he can muster. “I’ll teach ya.”

You look back at him and the angry frustration simmers down to mild irritation when you notice he’s reaching for you. Tasting that nightmarish poison again makes you queasy, you don’t want to and you’re fussy, but falter for him once more with the intent of giving it another go and then never again.

He’s paid for your dinner, bed, and shower, it’s only fair to entertain his stupid ideas. That doesn’t mean you’re going to smile through the whole thing though, no, you’ll grimace until the end.

He shifts until his feet are firmly planted on the floor as you round the table.

“One last time.”

“Last time.” he repeats through a haggard breath and as soon as your fingers dip into his open palm he spreads his legs farther apart to accommodate a plan you were blissfully unaware of. “Promise, Sweet pea…”

He coaxes you closer, tugging on your hand until you’re standing between his legs, radiating confusion. Guilt prickles his heart, you don’t deserve to be manipulated into succumbing to his perverse advances. It wasn’t even a good lie. Teaching you how to enjoy bourbon…a load of horse shit, but what were the odds that you’d so pliantly let him desecrate you once the concussion and fatigue didn’t stand in the way of clear thinking?

You were vulnerable now and he was a fiend for taking advantage. He’d deal with the consequences later.

The concentration carving his expression is hidden under the guise of darkness as he gently lures you down until you’re hesitantly sitting on his thigh. An arm coils around your waist to keep you in place, you’re face to face and the ringing in your ears increases, completely deafening the music from downstairs. Blunt fingers melt into your supple flesh, deliberately massaging away the prolonged day. You’d had it rough today, poor little thing, you needed some good kneading.

He’d give it to you. Whatever the hell you wanted, you’d have it.

Rotten man. Defiler.

He shakes the thoughts away and feeds on the sugary lavender hints beneath the sweat clinging to your body.

You’re engulfed in warmth and finally, you can put a name to the ever-present musk he carries around – bourbon and cigarettes; the smell of home. Your hands are resting in your lap, pinching at your dress in a nervous tick as you fight to keep eye contact. Inexplicable tension writhes in the air, it chokes you with sadistic glee.

Cooper’s studying your features as they twist, searching for something specific in the involuntary muscle twitches.

“You don’ like it, you call quits. Got it?” he speaks softly, but with authority, already taking another sip and letting it rest in his mouth.

You’re no less lost than you were two minutes ago, left to wonder what he means because your glass is on the other side of the table. But now he’s mute with alcohol and unable to elaborate verbally so you simply nod in understanding.

“Got it.”

No cheeky smirks or mischief is dancing in his eyes. He’s the most serious you’ve ever seen him, it’s nerve-wracking, you’re left to blindly follow his guidance and you trust him, but anticipation has no boundaries. The bedroom turns stuffy and his once welcomed heat is forming sweat on your forehead and pinching at random nerves throughout your body.

He glides a hand to the back of your neck, holds it with solemn tenderness. You make a pathetic noise when he leans you back until you’re cradled in the safety of his arms without leverage, hovering above the sofa as he watches over you with a mellow look.

“Tha’s it…steady, Pretty girl.”

You’re rigid and hesitant in his embrace, don’t know what to do except give in and let him work you like a puppet. It’s humiliating, you want to be an active participant, give him what he wants without him having to hold your hand, but you can’t. The only soothing thought that comes to mind is that he’s a dominant man, he probably doesn’t mind.

Probably even likes it like this.

“This okay, Sweetheart?”

You barely register he’s asked a question, the gravel in his voice seizes your breath.

“Yeah…Yes?”

The ghoul is languid and gentle when he leans forward, taking his time, but you notice the twitch in his fingers, the hidden urgency behind the façade he’s adopted to not scare you away. But he’s still a rugged man, you can tell by the callouses on his palms and the leathery skin on his face as it rubs against yours.

It’s a peck at first, makes you tingle all over. He barely brushes his chapped lips against yours, testing the waters, and dulling your awareness with patience before he shatters and ruins your innocence. But you’re too enticing for your own good. You don’t startle; cling to his vest instead and shiver with a milky moan and his resolve cracks.

With a ravenous snarl, he squishes you against his chest when you offer no protests and the hands that held you are now clutching. He kisses you with a bruising need, changing into a brutish oaf as his tenderness fades. Your mouth opens in a gasp and he lets the bourbon seep past his teeth and ravage your taste buds. The flavor is the last thing on your mind as he devours you whole, a few droplets escape from the corner of your lips and trail down your jaw until they soak into your hairline. Starved of everything soft and sweet, he gorges and palps, litters you with clumsy bruises because he’s forgotten how to handle someone such as you.

He tilts his head to one side and his tongue glides past your teeth to twirl around yours, forcing you to open wide. His eyes are hidden behind squeezed lids, leaving him purposefully blind to your current expression. He didn’t want to see rejection, didn’t want to know if you were disgusted but too fearful to pull away. All he needed was just one moment of indulgence disguised as him teaching you to drink. Let him feast upon you for a bit and he will never touch you again afterward, he swears it.

It’s just to show you how to enjoy a good glass of alcohol.

But you weren’t stupid, you already knew this was all a charade. It’s agonizing when you wrap your arms around his shoulders and clutch at his back. You’re klutzy in your love, a shaking mess as you try to match his pace, but this is too new and with an absent mind, instinct can only tell you so much. Still, you fill his cavernous maw with high-tuned chirps of affection and you’re so pleased despite the uncertainty, you’re aching for him, you’re just as starved if not more.

Cooper wasn’t prepared for reciprocation, it leaves him boneless and barely holding you both steady.

You let your eyes close as well and guzzle down the remainder of the booze from his mouth. A strained growl reverberates in his throat as he cuts down the urge to buck into you. Too soon, not yet. He’s taken enough from you for one night.

You suck in a breath as your knees turn to jelly. Your thighs are quaking; he presses one hand against them to soothe you and earns a muffled mewl. It’s raw lightning, sparking over your skin and making your clothes feel so damn constricting. You’re clawing at your tights, scratching at his sleeves, turned feral with lust and lilting pleas in his chewed-up ear.

A clash of teeth and jerking tongues, muffled sounds of indulged wants and thinned nerves.

He’s intoxicating, gruff to the bone and you avidly drink in everything he offers.

“Greedy little thing…” he rasps over deep breaths once he’s pulled away enough to take in your possum-like state. “So how’d you like the bourbon?”

A dull ache forms in your core at his sweet derogatory coo. You bite the side of your cheek to stifle the vulgar rattle trying to escape the confines of your heaving chest.

He lifts you into a proper sitting position and readjusts your dress back over your legs because he’s a gentleman tonight.

You’re a mixture of labored inhalations and sputtered words, struggling to descend to normalcy and proper manners. It takes you a moment to find your voice, you speak before thinking, high on a newfound addiction – him and his taste and his smell and everything that had to do with him. The knots in your stomach ease, but you’re still absently fiddling with the straps of his vest while trying to regain composure.

“Can we…” you shrink as his heavy gaze makes your throat tighten, lower your eyes in bashfulness but your insides burn and you need that fire sated. It’s his fault you’re like this, him and his sinful vulgarities. “Can you show me again?”

He croons a laugh and bloats with pride, doesn’t even care to take a shot before he latches onto you again.

“Needy girl…So pretty f’ me.”

You’re the one with the lingering hands now, sigh in relief when he violates your mouth again as if being apart had been torture. Nimble fingers intrude on his spine, slipping beneath the loose collar of his shirt and mapping out the marred flesh like it’s a piece of art. He shudders in your hold, mouths something that gets lost among the vocal sloppiness emitting from your feverish kisses.

You’re too eager at the mixed saliva dribbling down your chin, too delighted when he pauses to lick it off and keep you partly decent as he suffocates on his passion. You cage him between your thighs like it’s only natural, nestle down on him because he’s your new throne and he shoves a hand between your bodies to adjust his straining erection before you find out how desperate he is. You’re too spread and willing, unaware of the debauchery your actions hint towards.

He’s a man gone wild beneath you, boiling and unchained and drinking in your wanton display. A blank canvas for you to paint whatever you wished on as you submit to cravings he’d unraveled. He was a perverse bastard, stole your first kiss and hadn’t even made it proper, but there was nothing right in this world anyway. You returned his advances, you were happy, the rest be damned.

You leave his scalding tongue and nipping teeth to pepper his bony face with butterfly pecks. He’s a silent enjoyer, lets you drown him now that you were unleashed, with a ghost of a smile and lazy blinks, mild and content. Time slips past in a blur until you’re finally satisfied, having pruned and memorized every inch of his face.

You’re studying his features while cupping his jaw when the haze fades and you register just how many lines you’d crossed. His hardness digs into your thigh and you wince because you’d climbed him like a mountain, sat on him like he was just a chair and not someone you held dear. You’d taken advantage of his docile form, oblivious to the fact that this was what he’d hoped for from the start. You’d treated him like a tool to cater to your horniness without ever considering how much strain you’d put on him.

Maybe you weren’t as smart as he’d thought. No, that wasn’t it. You trusted him too much. Took his every word as fact.

Your heart is pounding and the trembling returns with twice the vigor as your serene smile dies.

“Oh my God…Jeez! I’m so sorry. Wait! I– ” you blabber while prying away with clumsy movements. You’re sure you’re about to have a heart attack and die on the spot.

What have you done?!

Why didn’t he stop you? Why did he look so high when you’d forced yourself on him without even asking for his consent? All he’d done was try to ease you into drinking and you’d thrown yourself at him like a…

“I’m so sorry. I didn’t even ask you…Why didn’t you say – Sorry. I’m – ”

“Whoaw there, Cowgirl.” he springs to action, forced out of his delightful trance by the utter horror written in your eyes. He grips you before you manage to stand, coercing you in a bear hug. Opposite to your shaken state, he rounds up your skittishness with honeyed words and caring touches. “Easy now, Sweetness. All’s fine, easy…easy.”

He stuffs you in the crook of his neck as you sputter more apologies, nuzzles his cheek in your hair and coos. You’re inconsolable for a time, badmouthing yourself because you knew no better and it’s heartwrenching because it’s his fault for taking advantage of your trust. He rocks you into silence while chuckling, criminally unapologetic.

“Now if I didn’ want any o‘ this I would’a kicked you off long time ago. ‘S okay, Sweet pea, all’s fine.” he palms himself until you can’t feel the incessant poke anymore, the scowls at his meager self-control. “Damn thing got a mind of i’s own.”

You hum in response, whiney and weak. He snorts at your deflated mood, to think his boner would be the cause of worry is comical. He lets a jab slip to bait you out of the cesspool of self-bludgeoning you’d thrown yourself in. He could be truthful and lay out the entire farce before you, but that came with the change you’d never let him near you again. Cooper isn’t a good man, nor a truthful man and what you didn’t know wouldn’t hurt you.

“Now quit yer mopin’, you’re ruinin’ m’ shirt.”

It does the trick. You stiffen against him and choke because how dare he.

“Asshole!” you recoil and land a weak fist against his shoulder. “You’re the one always ruining everything. I’m thinking about your comfort and your consent and trying to be nice and all you ever do is mock me. Awful man! You don’t even use the toothbrush I gave you. And you’re horrible company too.”

He’s laughing for the countless time that night, catches your wrist, then your other one, stifling your tantrum. A grin peeks beneath your stern glare, his high spirits are too contagious, and you wrestle against his unweaving hold without much zest.

“Too bad.” he gives you one good jerk and you faceplant into his neck, then rests his chin against the top of your head and you can hear the cocky smirk forming. “Is either me or the wasteland, Darlin’, and the wasteland don’ give no kisses, trust me.”

🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼

Chapter 9 >>>

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#cooper howard x reader #cooper howard x you #the ghoul x reader #the ghoul x you #x reader #the ghoul fanfic #fallout fanfic #cooper howard fic #cooper howard #the ghoul fallout #cooper howard fanfiction

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eviesaurusrex · 1 year

Text

ᴛʜᴇ ꜰɪʀꜱᴛ ʙɪʀᴛʜᴅᴀʏ | ʙ. ʙᴀʀɴᴇꜱ

Bucky Barnes x Rogers!Reader

summary: It’s not his first birthday after Hydra, but the first birthday he thinks he actually wants to celebrate—only because of YN.

word count: 1.5k

warnings: nothing, fluff, Bucky is a simp for his girl, not entirely proofread

author’s note: It’s Bucky’s birthday!! And sorry for being a simp for the “my best friend's younger sister is my girlfriend” trope.

***

Within a blink of an eye, the woman turned off the vibrating alarm on her watch in order to not disturb the finally deeply sleeping super soldier who rested on his side and had the pair of strong arms he called his own tightly wrapped around her still tired body. Her eyes slowly and tenderly wandered over his relaxed face, void of any haunting thought that might linger somewhere in his mind and entirely at ease with the world—for now. Only a few hours earlier, she had struggled to even get him to lay down and at least try to rest a bit after another nightmare had shaken his entire soul only a few short moments after he had fallen asleep for the first time that night.

Soft knuckles gently, barely palpable, caressed his cheek, already covered in new dark stubbles before even softer lips pressed a featherlight kiss to the corner of his perfect mouth with those tender lips of his. A low chuckle escaped the woman at the sight of them morphing into a half-smile, and she desperately hoped that the man dreamed of something far more pleasant than his mind tended to grant him.

“Sweet dreams, my love,” she whispered, even too quietly for her own enhanced hearing, trying everything not to wake him in the middle of the night and detangling her body out of his embrace. With a soft smile, YN put the pillow she always rested on closer to his face and sneaked around the bed in their shared room in order to light the candle Bucky was stubbornly convinced it smelled exactly like her. She wasn’t sure about that, but whatever helped him to have a few uninterrupted hours of sleep, she did—even if it meant raiding every single Bath & Body Works in the Tri-State area.

Yes, she even sacrificed herself and went to those in New Jersey.

Before the woman sneaked out of their bedroom, covered in sweatpants and one of Bucky’s Henley shirts, she couldn’t stop herself from bending over his sleeping form once more and pressing a gentle kiss to his soft dark strand. Then, she was able to leave him behind for now, pressing herself in between the thin crack between the door and doorframe she had created, so the always brightly lit hallways wouldn’t disturb the soldier in his much-needed rest.

Humming, YN walked down the hallways, took the elevator, and went straight into the grand, perfectly stocked, and just as well equipped kitchen of the compound with a mission in mind. She knew that Bucky hadn’t had a proper birthday since their time way back—she remembered the last one as if it had been only yesterday, even though over seventy years had passed since that day. Since his return to his self and since his rehabilitation, no one seemed to think of his birthday as a day he wanted to celebrate with others—Bucky, at the very least. But since a few weeks or even months, the soldier had dropped hints that he might be ready to do this again, to celebrate the day he was born.

Maybe it was partly her doing, but YN wasn’t as self-consumed to assume anything like that, so she only had gathered the clues and hints her boyfriend had scattered casually throughout their conversations and came up with a plan. That was why the younger Rogers was up on her feet at four in the morning and prepared the recipe for the cake she intended to bake for the man upstairs before everyone would woke up one after the other. And because he knew his habits better than anyone else—well, except for her brother, maybe—she had to be as early and fast as possible to get everything done before his morning run with Steve.

But YN ran out of luck after the three cake bases had wandered into the oven, and she had turned to the preparations of the cream filling.

Her ears would’ve usually picked up to the soft padding of feet on the floor, but her mind visited deep and hidden places while every step of getting the cream perfect was utter instinct and didn’t need the assistance of her thoughts. So Bucky was able to sneak up onto her and stopped at the entrance to the kitchen, watching his girl do what she always had loved the most, observing her distant eyes and soft expression ingrained in her pretty face. He could feel his heart flutter at the absolutely domestic sight in front of him, and the former Winter Soldier knew that he finally had found his home, the place where he wanted to stay and with whom he wanted to grow old.

It was her doing why he wanted to try and celebrate his birthday again. The past still belonged to him, yes, but YN made every single day brighter than the one before and made him finally realize and see that his past wasn’t his fault—just as her past wasn’t her fault either. They probably had helped each other better as every single of their mandatory therapy sessions combined. The shadows and memories still haunted him, maybe worse than hers, but it had gotten better, especially after he had found the courage to ask her for a shared bedroom.

A smile tucked at his lips as Bucky slowly walked over to the humming woman and gently wrapped his arms around her waist, pulling her lovingly against his chest, and chuckled deeply at the surprised gasp. “Someday, you’ll be my death.” A soft laugh followed YN’s words, and the soldier bent down to press a kiss to her right shoulder, inhaling her soothing scent mixed with his own and the aroma of the cake baking in his back. “It’s not my fault that your mind is always so occupied, doll,” he grinned and wrapped his arms tighter around her middle, pulling her even closer to him before pressing a kiss to her neck and one to her cheek.

“Good morning,” Bucky greeted her in a soft mumble as he always did and let her turn in his arms after she had stirred the filling one last time. Her smile was as radiant as the rising sun outside the window, and Bucky felt lovestruck again—just as the day all those decades ago when he finally realized that he had fallen in love with his best friend’s younger sister, who always had been off-limits for him. His heart ached so beautifully as she pulled him down towards her and pressed their lips together in the softest of kisses, her fingers carding through his hair, bringing him comfort to an extent he had never thought possible again.

“Happy Birthday, love.” It was only a whisper against his lips, but he could hear every single emotion swimming in those three words, making his heart race and jump in joy and love. A smile widened on his face and made him kiss YN another time. “Thank you, darlin’,” he whispered back and let her cradle his face in the palms of her hands, chuckling softly as kisses rained down on his skin. “This was supposed to be a surprise, but hey, I knew I couldn’t be so lucky. I didn’t wake you, though, right?” Bucky shook his head and kissed her forehead gently. “Jus’ woke up because you weren’t there anymore. And stop trying to fool my sleepy head with that pillow you always push closer to me. It’s not even close competition to how it feels when I hold your body, doll. But… thanks for lighting up the candle.”

These candles were a lifesaver for him every time YN had to go on a mission to which he wasn’t assigned. It helped to push back the dreams and loneliness, the dark thoughts and memories. Sometimes he even managed to go through a two-week-long mission of hers without a single nightmare—but a vanishing stock of candles was the result of it. At least it always meant hour-long dates in the city to restock his supply of YN-candles, as he liked to call them, and uninterrupted time with his girl.

YN smiled up at him and tenderly stroked through his hair and over his cheek. “Of course, love. Nothing to thank me for. And I will try to keep the pillow-thing in mind.” They both grinned before the timer at the oven alarmed them both. “Wanna watch while I finish up your cake? But you have to promise me to act all surprised and flattered later on.” YN threatened him with the spatula covered in cream and made him laugh, just as she had hoped. “Only when I get to try this masterpiece right now.” With that, she playfully rolled her eyes and dipped a finger into the filling to let him taste his favorite flavors. And Bucky was eager to suck every bit off her finger while holding eye contact, which made her all flustered and blushing in the middle of the kitchen. “Perfect,” he huskily whispered and leaned down for a kiss, but YN pressed a hand against his chest and only pecked his cheek innocently. “I know what you’re trying, Barnes, and this will only happen tonight. Not now, not between presents, not before or after blowing out the candles and cutting the cake. Tonight.”

The Barnes laughed wholeheartedly and still pulled her close to his side, pressing a tender kiss to her sweet lips. “Whatever you command, Agent Rogers.”

***

Only something short (and shitty) for my beloved birthday boy (I’m so sorry for this mess of words up there). I really need to continue the stuff for him I still have sitting around because I miss some Bucky magic on my blog. As usual: Comments, reblogs, and likes are much appreciated!

Taglist: @poor-unfortunate-soul-85 @seasonofthenerd @onecrazydirectioner @meeksmusic83 @lastwandastan @hopefulinlove

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sergeantbarnessdoll · 2 months

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Can I request Bucky x fem reader comfort fic? One night, Bucky trusted reader enough to vent his anger and sadness on her from all the emotional experience he had endured, about everything he had done when he was under HYDRA's control. He talked about the faces that often haunted his dreams and the endless tortures that accompanied the efforts to create the perfect killer. And reader, to Bucky's surprise, listened calmly before hugging him. At the same time, she told him that whenever he needed her, she would be there for him.

Venting » Bucky Barnes/Winter Soldier

Pairings: Best Friend!Bucky Barnes x Best Friend!Female Reader

Summary: Bucky goes to Y/N’s room late at night to vent about what he had done when he was under HYDRA’s control.

Warnings: Fluff, language, anger/sadness, crying, hugs and kisses, HYDRA, use of pet names

A/N: Thank you to the lovely anonymous person who requested this🩵

Written on my phone. I’m sorry for any mistakes and typos.

Header made by @buckys-wintersoldier

“Come in!” You say when you heard a knock on your bedroom door.

Bucky walks in your bedroom, closing the door behind him.

“You busy?” Bucky asks.

“Not for you.” You smiled. “What’s up?” You asked.

“Would you be willing to listen if I vented about something?” He asks.

“Of course I will, Buck.” You say. “What do you want to vent about?” You asked, taking a seat in the middle of your bed.

“What I did during my HYDRA days.” He says.

You knew how bad it was for Bucky during his time as the Winter Soldier. Even though you weren’t there, it still hurts you, knowing what they put him through.

“I just…” Bucky hesitates for a moment before speaking again. “I just can’t help but feel guilty about what I did as the Winter Soldier.” He starts. “Yes I know I was under HYDRA’s control, but I still feel guilty about what I did. They found me in the Alps, gave me a metal arm, and turned me into a deadly assassin.” He says, ranting on and on about what he had endured.

You watched and listened as Bucky paced back and forth as he talked, occasionally running his fingers through his hair. You heard anger and sadness in his voice which was also displayed on his face.

“They made me do things I didn’t want to do. They made kill innocent people. They brainwashed and wiped my memory. They experimented on me.” He says, listing more things HYDRA made him do.

Your heart broke for him. You hate that he had to experience all of that. You wish that there was something you could do to help make the pain go away for him, but for now you just sat there and listened to him vent.

“I could’ve been left for dead in the Alps, but they found me and did every kind of horrible things that they could think of.” He says.

As you listened to him, you never realized that he had this much anger and sadness built up inside of him. You could tell he was on the verge of tears.

“On top of all of that, I have to live with the things I did. The nightmares don’t help at all. Those horrible memories and nightmares are always there to remind me what I did.” He says.

You couldn’t take it anymore. You got off your bed and hugged him tightly. Bucky froze for a moment before hugging you back. He melted into your touch. That’s when the dam broke.

“You’re ok. Let it out.” You say softly while rubbing his back to soothe him.

After a moment, Bucky’s cries came to a slow stop. Tears stained his cheeks and soaked the stubble of his beard. You wiped his tears away before giving him a kiss on his cheek. You put your forehead against his, looking in his beautiful blue eyes.

“I never realized that how much of a good listener you are.” Bucky says, making the both of you laugh a little.

“I love listening to you talk, Bucky.” You smiled softly. “Please know what you did as the Winter Soldier wasn’t you. You were under HYDRA’s control.” You say.

“But I still did it.” He says.

“James Buchanan Barnes, I want you to listen to me when I say none of that was not your fault and there’s no reason for you to feel guilty for anything you did when you were under their control. Understand?” You say.

“I understand.” He almost whispers. “Thank you for listening to me vent.” He says.

“I can listen to you talk all day and all night.” You say with a smile. “You can come to my room anytime you want to talk.” You tell him.

“I’ll keep that in mind, doll.” He says with a smile.

“You wanna sleep in here tonight?” You asked.

“Yes please. I don’t feel like being alone.” He says.

You got back on your bed. Bucky laid down next to you, laying his head on your chest. He wrapped his arms around you protectively. The sound of your heartbeat soothed him even more. You rubbed his back to help him fall asleep.

“Goodnight, Buck.” You say softly, kissing the top of his head.

“Goodnight, doll.” Bucky says sleepily before falling asleep.

🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵

-Bucky’s Doll

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scoonsalicious · 3 months

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Unwanted: Chapter 9, Unselfish - Pt. 2

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Avenger!Fem!Reader

Summary: When your FWB relationship with your best friend Bucky Barnes turns into something more, you couldn’t be happier. That is, however, until a new Avenger sets her sights on your super soldier and he inadvertently breaks your heart. You take on a mission you might not be prepared for to put some distance between the two of you and open yourself up to past traumas. Too bad the only one who can help you heal is the one person you can no longer trust.

Warnings: (For this part only; see Story Masterlist for general Warnings) Language, Jade Carthage (now officially a warning!), petty behavior on both sides, oblivious!Bucky, jealousy, insecurity.

Word Count: 2.1k

Previously On...: While on a cute little coffee date, you gave Bucky your seal of approval to start training Jade. You trust him and his love for you. This is definitely not the worst decision you've ever made in your entire life that will probably end up haunting your nightmares. Nope, not at all.

A/N: If I was Pocket, and this was real life (ah, if only!), I don't think I would have made it this far with Bucky (let's be real, though, no one in my real life is that good looking, or that seductively tragic). I would have washed my hands of him all the way back in Chapter Six, but! this is fiction, and fiction needs drama. Welcome to The Drama. We're glad to have you here. Mainly so that we don't have to suffer alone. All that to say, I definitely don't advocate for putting up with the kind of behavior Bucky will be displaying from this point forward. Toxic behavior is acceptable only in fiction, and only when we can recognize that it's toxic, and not something to emulate in real life.

Banner By: The absolutely amazing @mrsbuckybarnes1917!

Thank you to all those who have been reading; if you like what you've read, likes, comments, and reblogs give me life, and I truly appreciate them, and you!

Taglist: (Please let me know if you’d like to be added!) @jmeelee @cazellen @blackhawkfanatic @les-sel @marcswife21 @buckybarnessimpp @mrsbuckybarnes1917 @erelierraceala @hayjat @capswife @itsteambarnes @jupiter-107 @marygoddessofmischief @sebastians-love @learisa @lethallyprotected @rabbitrabbit12321 @buckybarnesandmarvel @fanfictiongirl77 @calwitch @fantasyfootballchampion @selella @jackiehollanderr @wintercrows @sashaisready

You weren’t going to admit it, but you regretted giving your okay to Bucky training Jade almost immediately. If she wasn’t asking him for extra training sessions, she was calling him with some stupid request or another.

First, it was that the lights in her room weren’t working:

“It was weird,” said Bucky when he’d come back from looking at them. “All the bulbs in her room were loose. Only thing I needed to do was tighten them.”

You kept your mouth shut, simply arching an eyebrow at him and hoping he genuinely believed that.

Next, she was constantly wanting to eat with him. “She’s lonely,” Bucky had told you when he’d left to have breakfast with her for the fourth morning in a row. “She hasn’t made many friends here yet. I’m just keeping her company.”

You let it slide; it was just breakfast following training, after all, and you were usually already at work by then. You still had lunch and dinner with him everyday.

Until she started sitting next to him at dinner, as well. At first, it wasn’t that big of deal; she was just a body at the table, and you could ignore her with no problems. But she slowly began monopolizing Bucky’s attention throughout the meals, asking him questions about combat training, protocols, any and everything innocuous and Avengers-related that made you feel like you couldn’t speak up against it without coming off as irrationally jealous.

After three evenings of being completely iced out of their conversation, you started engaging solely with Steve. It wasn’t your classiest move, knowing how Steve felt about you (and how Bucky felt about the way Steve felt about you) and using it for your own advantage, but he was still your friend, your family; it would have been weirder if you hadn’t spoken to him, at all. Of course, Bucky noticed this, and in seemingly no time at all, dinner returned to its normal dynamic, though you felt guilty about your behavior and tried to include Steve more than you had before.

But soon, she took lunches, too, and you couldn’t really find away around that.

Then she was complaining that the Tower was so boring and could he show her around the city? At least Bucky always insisted that you accompany him if he was going to go somewhere with Jade. It wasn’t your ideal way of spending the diminishing amount of time you had with Bucky, but you tried to make the best of it, though she went out of her way to make jabs and backhanded comments at your expense.

“It was so generous for Stark to have paid for your college education,” she cooed when you were all walking around Central Park together. “I can’t imagine what you must have done to warrant such generosity.”

“I’ve paid him back tenfold by working for him,” you told her through clenched teeth. You were usually able to brush off these disguised accusations with ease, but there was something about Jade’s insinuation that your relationship with Tony had some sort of seedy beginning that filled you with white hot rage.

“Oh, I’m sure you’ve worked very hard to get where you are today,” she oozed. “I bet Stark had you practically crawling on all fours to get you in your position.”

You felt the blood rising to your cheeks as anger flowed through you. You shot Bucky a glance, looking for him to tell her off, to defend you, something, but if he noticed the hidden barb in her words, he gave no indication of it.

“Pocket’s a genius,” he said instead, beaming at you and kissing the crown of your head. “Stark knew she was the best of the best, so it makes perfect sense that he would do whatever he needed to do to get her on his team. What was it you said, sweets? He got a good return on his investment in you.”

From outside of Bucky’s line of sight, Jade rolled her eyes, not pleased that her subtle attack hadn’t had its desired effect.

“Oh, Sarge,” she cried, grabbing on to his arm and tugging him away toward the pond, “look at the ducklings! Let’s go see them!” Now it was your turn to roll your eyes as Bucky turned to you with a shrug, as if to say “what can I do?” as he let Jade drag him away.

Annoyed, you chose not to follow, instead, walking along the path to buy yourself a hot pretzel from a nearby vendor.

“Hard being the third wheel when your friends are on a date, huh?” the vendor asked with a chuckle as he handed you your drink order.

“Excuse me?” you asked, pausing in the process of putting mustard on your pretzel. “That’s actually my boyfriend.”

The vendor looked taken aback. “You sure about that, honey?” He nudged his chin in the direction of the pond, where Jade was hanging onto Bucky’s arm as though he were a life preserver and pointing enthusiastically at the ducklings.

“Yes, I’m sure,” you snapped, grabbing your items and turning away from the rude man. You found yourself a bench where you could observe the two of them from a distance.

You had finished your pretzel and your iced tea before Bucky seemed to notice you weren’t alongside him. You crossed your arms over your chest and watched as he looked around for you, his face beginning to show panic when he couldn’t find you right away. Jade seemed to try to calm him down, but he wasn’t having any of it.

There was a small part of you, not so deep inside, that you weren’t proud of, that was glad to see him freak out at not being able to find you. Serves him right for ignoring you for her. You watched as Bucky jogged back to where he had last seen you on the path, calling your name, Jade following behind him.

“She probably just went back to the Tower,” you heard her say to him. “Why don’t we just enjoy the rest of our day, and you can meet up with her later? No point in letting her ruin our fun,” she added.

“Absolutely not,” Bucky snapped at her. “She wouldn’t do that! Fuck. I shouldn’t have gotten distracted.” He pulled out his phone and you knew he was going to call you.

You answered the phone before your ringtone could even begin. “Yes?” you asked, your voice cold.

“Baby! God, where are you?! I turned around and you were gone! I was worried sick.”

“I’m exactly where you left me half an hour ago, Barnes,” you said. “The two of you looked so fucking cozy; I didn’t want to interrupt your little date.”

You watched as his head shot up, scanning the path until he saw you sitting on your bench. When your eyes met, the relief on his face was unmistakable. You disconnected the call and sat waiting for him to make the next move.

He ran toward you, getting down on his knees in front of you before throwing his arms around you and pulling you into him.

“God, doll,” he murmured into your hair. “You were right behind us, and when I turned around after a second, you weren’t there, all I could think was that something terrible had happened to you.”

You glanced behind his shoulder to see Jade, hip cocked and arms across her chest, looking annoyed. “I didn’t mean to make you worry; I just got a pretzel. But that’s the thing, Buck,” you said as you pulled back from him, “I didn’t follow you at all and it took you thirty fucking minutes to notice.”

His face fell as the realization hit him. “Thirty minutes? Fuck. ‘m so sorry, Pocket,” he said, sincerity lacing his voice as he ran a hand through his hair. “That was shit of me. I don’t have an excuse.” He took your hands in his.

“See,” Jade said as she came up behind him, “she’s fine. Just being dramatic. I told you not to worry about her.”

“Vix,” Bucky said without looking at her, “go back to the Tower.” His voice was low and gruff as he spoke to her.

“What, like, by myself?” she asked, shocked that he would suggest such a thing.

“Yes. Alone.” Bucky said. When she made no motion to leave, he turned to look at her. “Now!” he growled before turning back to you.

“Fine, I’m going,” she said as she started to walk away, but not before sneering at you and flipping you the bird.

Once he was confident she was out of earshot, Bucky stood up and came to sit next to you on the bench. “This is the kinda shit you’ve been worrying about, isn’t it?" he asked you.

You didn’t respond for a while, just looked at him, trying to get your words in order. “I told you that I’m not going to control who can or can’t be friends with, Bucky,” you said eventually. “And I do still mean that. I don’t control you– no one controls you. But no girl is going to love seeing their boyfriend go off with someone else and completely forget about them.” You took a deep, sad sigh. “It hurts, Buck. It makes me feel like… like you only brought me with you out of some kind of obligation, and you’d rather I wasn’t here.” He tried to say something, but you kept talking. “I’m not saying that was your intention; I know it wasn’t. That’s just what it feels like. And maybe I’m being irrational, overly jealous. Maybe I’m being selfish. I don’t know. I’ve never done this before, this relationship thing. Ever. I’m just kinda… flying blind here.” You blinked away some tears that were threatening to fall. “Maybe I am too dependent on you. Maybe you’d be better off with someone who has their shit together and doesn’t freak out whenever another girl gets near you.” You shrugged your shoulders, feeling defeated.

Bucky fiercely wrapped his arms around you, squeezing you to his chest. “Stop,” he said, his voice almost a sob. “Stop saying things like that. It’s not true. I am begging you, never think that’s true. Pozhaluysta, lyubov' moya.” Please, my love. Bucky’s voice was raspy, as though he were choking back tears of his own. “Ty — vse, chto ya kogda-libo khotel. Vse, chto mne nado.” You are everything I ever wanted. Everything I need. “You make me so damned grateful that I fell off that train,” he whispered.

You pulled your head back, studying him in surprise. “Buck, you don’t mean that. You can’t mean that, not after everything—”

“It’s the truth,” he told you, hands coming up to cup your face, making sure you were looking at him, really looking at him. “If I hadn’t fallen, I’d have probably died in a German trench long before you’d ever been born, and the idea of it makes me sick. And everything—everything-that happened after, all of that led me to you. I can’t resent a single second of it, because it brought me here, now. Do you understand how fucking precious that makes you? How fucking special you are?”

You stared at him, stunned at his revelation. Bucky took your silence as an opportunity to pull you into him in a bruising, desperate kiss. If you’d been more self-aware, you’d have pulled back, embarrassed at being so brazen with your affection in public, but all you could do was kiss him back with every ounce of love you felt for him. And it felt so absolutely right.

Far too soon for your liking, you both had to come up for breath. Pressing your foreheads together, Bucky sighed contentedly. “What do you need me to do? I’ll do anything you need, you know that, right?”

You nodded, the movement of your head bringing his along with it and you both giggled. “I know,” you said. “Maybe no more outside-the-Tower excursions?” you asked timidly, hoping it wasn’t too big a request. “Or, if you still want to do them, maybe I don’t come with you? Being around her sets me off. It’s too much ”

“Consider them ended,” he said, without hesitation or pause. “Not even a question. I wouldn’t even consider going out of the Tower with her without you with me, and I’m not going to force you to spend time with her.”

“I’m so sorry,” you said softly. “I feel like such a controlling bitch.”

“No, baby, no.” He tucked your head under his chin as he held you to him. “That is the exact opposite of what you are.” You believed him, you really did, but it did nothing to quell the disgust you felt with yourself.

<- Previous Part / Next Part ->

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky x you #bucky x reader #bucky fanfic #bucky barnes #bucky barnes fanfic #bucky x female reader #bucky barnes fic #bucky barnes fanfiction #james bucky buchanan barnes #james buchanan barnes #mcu bucky barnes #james barnes

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thatsmzbitchtoyou · 4 months

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Masterlist

Started: 2/24/24 Last updated: 6/10/24

MARVEL

Bucky Barnes *One shots Sex Pollen My Alpha

*Series Breaking the Class Ceiling Bucky Barnes is a middle class clerk. He needs to marry well to take care of himself and his father. Y/N Y/L/N is the heir to a millionaire fortune, who is blunt, no-nonsense, flirtatious, and looking for a partner. Everyone is vying for her hand. Can Bucky ever win? **This is set in early 1900s U.S.A., during the Edwardian era with some style changes into the upcoming Art Nouveau period. I've changed history a bit for this. Pretending that America didn't have a full Civil War and trying to create a more optimistic outcome for the purposes of the story. I've also tried to research what the rules for society/socializing were back then, and tweaked some of them. 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 **Finished

Pretty Pointy Smile Bucky was born different, and has been judged for it ever since. His father has had enough and sells him to the circus. The acceptance and love of his newfound family, and the beautifully fierce ringmaster, help him realize he’s not the monster everyone else made him out to be. 1 2 3 4 5 **Finished

Sugar Mama Bucky is overworked and struggling to get by. The bills are piling up and he’s consistently in the red with no end in sight. Y/N is a billionaire’s daughter, entrepreneur and philanthropist having a hard time finding true friends or love. She has a proposition for him. 1 2 3 4 5 6 **Finished

Marriage of Convenience Y/N’s father is gone, and he leaves it all to her. But in 1880s Oregon, she can’t own land without a husband. Under the threat of it all being taken away by a land hungry Sheriff, what’s a girl to do with no prospects? Maybe one of the cowboys on the farm can help… 1 2 3 4 5 **Finished

The Temptation Father Barnes is devout, steadfast, and undeterred by flirtatious congregants. So why does this fallen angel tempt him so? You cannot serve two masters. Will he choose God, or his heart? 1 2 3 4 5 6 **Finished

Norsemen & Anglo-Saxons Princess Y/N has a secret that her parents are ashamed of. A conquering Viking chief recognizes the gift she has. Will they be able to bring peace between warring people, and maybe find love along the way? 1 2 3 4 5 **Finished

Stranded Tossed overboard and lost at sea, Bucky washes up on an uninhabited island. Injured, lost and scared, with little to no wilderness training, he fights to survive. But is he really alone? 1 2 3 4 5 **Finished

The Fuck Up Bucky fucked up. A few times. Will his best friend ever be able to forgive him? 1 2 3 4 5**Ongoing!!

Naughty Nanny Bucky had a lovechild from a one night stand. He barely even remembered it, and was surprised to find a baby on his doorstep 9 months later. But one look at that little girl and he knew she was his and that he’d die for her. The only problem was, he knew nothing about babies, and being an Avenger meant he couldn’t just drop everything and be a dad full time. Then he found the perfect nanny…or so he thought. **Coming soon!!

Peter Parker *One shots Emotional *Short Series Tasty Peter just wanted to have one night of fun. Then that night of fun almost killed him. Now it won’t stop haunting him. And he’s loving it. 1 2 3 4 **Finished

The Young Duke Queen Y/N is running out of time. At 35 years old she has to marry and make an heir to the throne, but all suitors so far have been unsatisfactory in one way or another. Duke Peter Parker is the young Duke of Queensland, and his family is on the brink of ruin due to his parents’ failures and famines throughout the years. He needs to find an advantageous marriage to save his family’s estate, so when an invitation from the Crown comes, he jumps at the opportunity. Will it be a match? Warnings: language, smut, character death, pregnancy

Steve Rogers *Series My Queen Steve Rogers is the newly inherited Duke of Brooklyn, struggling to fix the mistakes of his parents while enduring an overbearing, matchmaking mother. He has no intention of anything romantic in his future, but will a forced love connection with the Queen change his mind? 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 **Finished

Stucky *Series Omega Steve Rogers wants to move on. He wants to forget Peggy, and dive into the 21st century. But this man of the past doesn’t know how to navigate being an Alpha in a modern world of skittish Omegas. He prides himself on his self control, never wanting to harm or scare them, until something just smells too damn good. And he's not the only one who smells it... **Coming soon!!

Actors

Sebastian Stan *Series A Patient Man Sebastian swore to never fall for another co-star again. Until Y/N drops into his life. 1 2 3 4 5 6 **Finished

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everythingelseisextra · 11 months

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Treasure The Memory

Part One: Everything Is Fine

Part Two: Commit To The Bit

Part Four: Petty Criminal

Description: A couple days after the hose incident, you find yourself feeling empty, and set off to find Thomas and apologize. Warnings: Language, alcohol Word Count: 2292 Tag List: @theshelbyslimited @globetrotter28 @babayaga67 @shelbydelrey Please let me know if you'd like to be added to the tag list!

Twelve horses. From six in the morning to six at night, you work without stopping. It’s your purpose, your drive, the only reason you have for getting up in the morning. The only reason you eat or drink. There’s an aching kind of emptiness that begins after the car drives away, that makes the time go by slowly while you work through the horses. Heaviness that pushes your muscles to work harder than usual, an odd sense of carrying something. But, still, you put your head down. You have work to do. You don’t have time to fantasize a life beyond what you trudge through. You don’t have time to imagine things had gone differently.

You don’t.

But on the second day after, the weight is the same. You wake before sunrise and find yourself expecting to see him watching you ride in silence again, observing. You fill buckets and clean stalls and turn out and all the while, the back of your mind stumbles off somewhere, looking for the dawn to break like it did two days ago, like some groundhog day. You were given a splash of color in the long span of gray, and now you can’t forget what it was like. Now you can’t stop yearning for the boldness, the attention.

That night, you lay in the twin bed shoved into the corner of a tiny room, and you stare at the night sky through the cracked window. Cool air caresses your face, and you sit up to look out. You see only the shadows of the barn and the void of the countryside, all-consuming darkness. Here, you think, is where everyone else’s ghosts come to haunt. Here is where the forgotten come to waste the rest of their lives. Here is where I will live, and here is where I will die.

No.

You stand up and walk the two steps to your wardrobe, pulling your clothes out and scrambling to put them on. Whatever you plan, whatever strange scheme, will present itself to you as you move. You can’t be like this forever. You can’t keep being fine, fine, fine, until you’re ready to go and all you can look back on is mediocrity. You can’t keep going out and waiting for someone to ask you who you are, what you’re about, whether you’re okay.

You need to be the one to ask.

You rush out to the barn. This late at night, no cabs will come to you, not when you’re so far out. Wired, almost manic with desperation, you halter your quickest horse, a mare named Secret, and forgo the saddle to ride bareback. The night is still young, and if you get there soon enough, get there fast enough, then maybe, maybe you’ll find him. Gripping your mare with your thighs, you cluck and urge her forward, loosening your reins and pushing your calves into her sides. She shoots off, and suddenly, you’re coursing through the night, the wind whipping your hair, the sound of hooves pounding the only thing you can hear.

The first few minutes, exhilaration runs through you, and you breathe in the wild rush of the darkness. Then you feel the cold, and the dryness waters your eyes, and your skin grows red and chapped from the constant battering of the wind. And still, Secret gallops, and you cling to her back and duck your head and clutch her mane in your shaking hands.

City lights blink softly at you through the mist of early night. You sit back and talk quietly to the mare, bringing her from a gallop to a canter, then to a trot, then, finally, to a heaving, breathless walk. Her sweat seeps into your pants, her fur covers the inside of your thighs, and your own sweat drips down your forehead. Still, you walk on, her hooves clattering on the stone streets. Eyes glint at you from alleyways. The city murmurs its quiet song. And, you, an interloper walking boldly into an unknown territory, hoping.

You remind yourself: hope is a thing with teeth.

The Garrison stands solemn in the darkness. The lights inside silhouette figures moving, dancing, banging their hands on tables and chairs. Tonight is Saturday night. Closing your eyes, you steady your breathing. Cold penetrates your bones and you find yourself trembling, coming and going in waves. You run your fingers through your hair, like it could be tamed, and slowly slip off the horse. You find an old hitching rail a few blocks away and tie her, offering her a bucket of water. You leave her there, in the dark side of the alleyway. You won’t be long.

When you open the double doors to the Garrison, you’re flooded with golden light and feral singing and warmth. You still tremble, but less so. The chills are chased away by the faultless sense of revelry in the air. You push through the crowded sitting area as though fighting your way down an overgrown path. Limbs swing into your way, people stamp their feet, and a rousing chorus starts up.

You stumble through to the bar and lean on it, facing towards the seating area. Men on tables, men dancing, men drunk and throwing up in buckets. Men howling like wolves, men grabbing their women, men cheering each other on. No sign of the man you came here looking for. Your heart sinks.

The barmaid laughs from behind the bar while she walks towards you. She leans over, smiling faintly. “What can I do for you?”

“I’m—” Your voice doesn’t carry; she leans closer to listen. “I’m looking for Thomas Shelby.”

She points immediately to a slim door, closed, but that opens into a small, octagonal room. “I wouldn’t interrupt.”

You hesitate. “Who’s he with?”

“His brothers.”

“Thank you.” You nod to her, then push through the drunken party to stand in front of the door. You breathe in whiskey and cigarette smoke and body odor, and breathe out. Then, cautiously, you knock.

If there’s a response, you don’t hear it. Throwing caution to the wind, you place your hand on the handle, take another breath, and push it open.

Three pairs of eyes stick to you; two angry, one surprised. You step inside and close the door behind you. Silence, so thick it seems to buzz with the energy of their gazes. From their seats behind the table, they look you up and down, and you’re suddenly in a spotlight, caught in the blindness. No one speaks.

The man on Thomas’ left breaks it. “Who the fuck are you?”

Your eyes drop and you mouth the words; no one.

“I said,” The man stands awkwardly, scooting out from behind their table and approaching you. He’s considerably taller than you, leaning down to loom over, speaking far too close to your face. You catch the smell of whiskey and beer on his breath, and your eyes lock onto bits of food stuck in his mustache. “Who the fuck are you?”

“Enough, Arthur.” Thomas leans back in his seat, arms loosely crossed, a cigarette in one hand.

“I thought you hadn’t taken a woman since—”

“I haven’t.”

“Is this the one that sprayed you with the hose?” The man on his right grins at you. “My kind of girl.”

“Wouldn’t let someone spray me with a hose.” Arthur steps back, though you keep yourself shrunken away, a little too overwhelmed by what you’ve stepped into to unravel yet. “I’d knock ‘em out and spray ‘em meself.”

“That’s enough.” Thomas stands and walks out from behind the table, brushing past you to open the doors. The riotous sound of the bar fills the small space again, and you step away from the door, trying to get away from it. “John, Arthur, go join them.”

“No, I want to hear what hose-girl has to say.” The man still sitting, presumably John, stays sitting, eyes going straight to Thomas’. “I’m staying.”

“John.” Thomas’ head tilts slightly, his eyes flicking to you, then back. “Get out.”

John looks at him a moment longer, smile fading, then shrugs, stands, and walks out. Arthur follows. Thomas closes the door after them, and you close your eyes, relieved by the quiet.

“Sit down,” Thomas says. You hear his footsteps move past you, then the sound of him sitting back down. After a moment, he adds; “Please.”

You open your eyes. His hands lay on the table in front of him, his cigarette between his ring and pinkie finger. His dark hair sits as though he styled it, and you become suddenly aware of your appearance, the wildness of your hair, the goose pimples still on your skin, the slight shiver of your body, the sweat dried on your temple. His eyes are on you, expectant, and so you nod and sit on the other side of the table as he asks. Your gaze remains downcast.

In silence, he pours you a small glass from the bottle of amber whiskey, and you take it, slowly sipping the smooth liquid. Once you place it back down, and settle into your seat, he speaks.

“If you came to ask for forgiveness, it’s already given.” His voice rolls off his tongue, a plodding sort of sentence that you can’t help but get wrapped into. “Past in the past. We can go our separate ways.”

You look up at him, head still tilted down, and you toy with the rim of the glass, running your fingers along it. Your voice is quiet, not quite even enough. “Who are you?”

“You know who I am.”

“No. When you said I didn’t know who you were, what did you mean?” You look back down, unable to hold your gaze steady with his for long.

He rolls his shoulders and sits back, hands still laid across the table. “I’m the lead of the Peaky Blinders.”

“The razor blades.”

“Aye.” He inclines his head to you.

“And you guys do… what?”

“What needs to be done.”

“That’s very vague.”

“We’re a group of well-intended people who do very bad things to achieve our goals.”

You smile faintly. “I’m supposed to be scared of you.”

“Most people are.” His eyes search your face. “You’re not.”

You shrug. “Truth is, I’m scared of everyone. I’m so used to it that it doesn’t make you special.”

He brings his cigarette to his lips, takes a slow drag, and exhales a plume of smoke. “So you are scared of me.”

You take another sip of the whiskey, hoping to avoid answering. Your body shivers, despite the warmth of the drink inside of you, burning as it goes down.

“Smart thing to do now is go home, feed those horses of yours, and forget you pointed that bloody hose at me.” He sits up, leaning towards you. The space between you shrinks with the intensity of his gaze, and you sit back, meeting his eyes. “No need to get mixed up in the shit I live with.”

“I don’t want to forget it.” Something about him sparks some bravery in you, helps your voice come smoothly, helps your mind connect with your body. Or maybe that’s the whiskey. “It might’ve been… unfortunate, but it was the most fun I’ve had in— well, in years.”

“Treasure the memory, and get out while you can.”

You look down. This conversation is not going the way you’d hoped. You play the last cards you have. “I won’t sell you Draco, but I’ll let you ride him.”

Silence. Your gaze shifts upwards. One of his eyebrows is slightly raised, his cigarette paused halfway to his lips.

“What do you want?” He gestures at you, still holding the cigarette. “Why do you want this so badly?”

“I don’t know. I guess I want something different. I don’t want… to die in a house I feel trapped in. I don’t want to—”

“I’m not here to play games.” He stands, starts for the door. He stops, looks over his shoulder at you. “I’m not here to listen to girls who don’t know what they want.”

He opens the door and begins out. Sound rushes in, a deluge that almost catches you off guard and drowns you. Instead, you stand and project your voice. “Thomas.”

He pauses, looks back at you, slowly closes the door. His eyes are cold, calculating, a glint in them that tells you he’s teetering on a line between anger and amusement.

“I want freedom,” you say, finding some strength to your voice. “I want to feel like I’m more than my past, and more than the money I have. I want to have people care about me. I want to not be alone anymore.”

I want you.

“And,” you let out a short breath. “I want a do-over. I want you to come ride with me. Without spraying you with a hose.”

“A do-over,” he repeats, one hand still on the doorknob.

“Yes.”

He considers you, blue eyes sharp, but not as cold as before. “Tomorrow morning, then.”

“Okay.”

His gaze falls to the door beside him, and, almost imperceptibly, he takes a breath. “You ready?”

You nod and walk forward, moving towards the door.

“Wait.” He steps in front of you, blocking your way. You stop short, a foot away, and your eyes trail over him, marking his positioning, ready to dart away if needed.

He takes off his coat jacket and holds it out to you. “Wear it on your way back. Don’t need you getting sick.”

You take it, and offer him a small smile. “Not so scary.”

“Don’t decide yet.” He opens the door and the world floods back to you. As you walk out, you hear him say, “Goodbye, No One.”

#peaky blinders #thomas shelby #tommy shelby #tommy shelby x reader #peaky blinders x reader #thomas shelby x reader #tommy shelby imagine #peaky blinder imagine #peaky blinders imagine #peaky fucking blinders #thomas shelby x y/n #thomas shelby imagine #thomas shelby fanfic #tommy shelby fanfic #peaker blinders fandom #peaky blinders fanfic #only the wild ones

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sosa2imagines · 4 days

Text

Broken Hearts. Part 4

Warnings- Angst, threats, possessiveness, manipulation.

The image of your tear-stained cheeks and exhausted form, haunted Nick as he observed your slumber.

Carrying you gently, bridal style, he took great care to ensure your comfort. When he stepped back into the house, Lloyd stood frozen, his worry evident as Nick shook his head, silently requesting silence.

Nick cautiously laid you down on the bed, his touch tender and protective. Stepping out to join Lloyd, Nick found Lloyd's impatience palpable, unable to hide his frustration and concern.

Lloyd's impatience spiked as he demanded answers from Nick. “Will you tell me what's going on? Why does her face look like she's been crying for hours?” His voice carried a mix of anger and desperation. Nick, sensing Lloyd's frustration, calmly gestured for his friend to wait.

He knew that Andy's presence would help provide clarity. When Andy finally arrived, Nick expressed his gratitude, to which Andy responded, “I got here as fast as I could, man.”

Lloyd's impatience and anger exploded as he yelled, “If you're done with the pleasantries, what the hell is going on?”

Nick sighed wearily, rubbing a hand across his face, his frustration palpable. His voice laced with worry, he filled Andy and Lloyd in on the phone call between you and Steve.

“That's it! He deserves to be twelve feet under! How dare he threat my sugar?!” Lloyd seethed, his fists clenching at his sides. “Don't do anything stupid, I'm angry too. But we need to sort this out in a different manner.” Andy suggests, to which Nick agrees.

Nick's fists clenched tightly as he relayed the details of Steve's threat, his voice laced with frustration. “That bastard is threatening Y/n with some video, some guy named Barnes made, and she has no idea about it!”

Upon hearing the name Barnes, Lloyd's eyes widened, a flicker of recognition sparking in his gaze. “Barnes?” he echoed. “Do you know him?” Nick asks. “Bucky Barnes as in ‘James Buchanan Barnes’ is Steve's best friend,” he confirmed, his voice low and intense. “But I don’t know, how he is involved in this.”

“We need to know, if he is serious about the video, what if he is lying to get Y/n back?” Andy suggests.

“We should just kill him,” he hissed through gritted teeth, his fists clenched fiercely. “He's crossed a line, threatened Sugar, and now we know he's linked to Bucky.” The room's tension thickened as Lloyd's fierce declaration hung in the air, the gravity of his suggestion palpable.

Nick's voice was steady and filled with understanding as he appealed to Lloyd's rationality. “Listen, Lloyd... I know you want to take matters into your own hands, believe me, I do too. But Steve's been digging around. He knows about you, May and her family. Y/N went through hell on that phone call. She panicked and begged, but Steve, the son of a bitch that he is, gave her no choice and just ended the call.”

The room fell silent as your voice, heavy with sadness, cut through the conversation. “Lloyd?” you softly spoke, capturing his attention.

His head snapped in your direction, and he immediately pulled you into a warm embrace, providing comfort as you let your tears flow. As you sobbed quietly against Lloyd, he gently held you, his protective presence providing solace amidst the storm.

Lloyd's voice was gruff but soothing as he whispered comforting words, “Shh, Sugar, no more crying. I'll take care of that bastard. Nick told me everything.” He carefully guided you over to the couch, his strong, protective arms still enveloping you, ensuring you felt safe and secure.

Your voice quivered as you shared your fears with Lloyd, the weight of Steve's threats hanging heavily in the air. “Steve is going to ruin my life, if I don't go back to him like a good wife.” you confessed between sobs, the desperation in your eyes evident. The thought of being trapped in Steve's control, being his obedient wife, sent shivers down your spine.

“No, he won't.” Andy assures you, sitting next to you, taking your hands in his. Nick sits on the coffee table in front of you and cups your face, “I told you, me and Lloyd will deal with him. And we will make him pay.”

“If he dares to use the video against you or even if he is lying, just to threaten you, he will not like what happens.” Lloyd smirks rubbing your back.

Andy's voice broke through the emotional storm, his words sharp and resolute. “Steve really goofed up this time, Y/n. Threatening you? That's against the law.” Andy stated firmly, his gaze fixed on you, offering a glimmer of legal reassurance.

Lloyd's demeanor hardened as he offered a reassuring statement, “Don't you worry, sugar. My trustworthy man is en-route with more information.” The mention of having a reliable source of information added a flicker of hope in the midst of the tumultuous situation.

As you all are waiting for Lloyd's guy to show up, Lloyd asks you about Bucky. “Sugar how do you know Barnes?”

You stiffen a bit, but Lloyd rubs your back to comfort you sensing your distress. You relax a bit sitting in the middle between Andy and Lloyd and Nick in front of you, you feel safe, surrounded by people who genuinely care for you.

“I met Bucky, before Steve… In fact, he told me he is best friends with Steve.” You look down in your lap, as you bring up your past. Nick gently presses your knee, encouraging you to carry on, you smile.

“Prom night, we met at prom I was alone…” “You were alone?” Lloyd interrupts, making Andy and Nick glare at him, he just shrugs, as you carry on. “Yes, I was alone Lloyd, you were busy with Madison and our sweet Andy was with her sister Megan and Nick joined, after Prom, year later.” Nick smiles, while Andy blushes.

“So I was standing there alone, out of nowhere Bucky came behind me, he made me blush so hard...” “hey, why aren't you dancing doll?” “Nobody asked me, why aren't you dancing?” “Nobody wants to dance with me...” “Oh…” “You wanna dance with me?” “I'm not a good dancer…” “Neither am I, come on doll.” He took my hand, and lead me to the dance floor.

After dancing for some time, we went out in the garden. We were looking at the sky… it was clear that night, he kept on looking at me… then one thing led to another and we kissed. I thought that was about it, but the next day he asked me out. Of course, I said yes, he was my first everything, you know.

But I swear, I had no idea he was recording us. After we were done, he told me to dress up and dropped me home. I didn't pay much attention to it. For almost two weeks, we were in a relationship, if in today's words ‘friends with benefits’ from his side. On the last day, he told me, we are over, as he is moving to London to look after his family business.

After he left, Steve came into my life, he took good care of me. Turns out, he was equally alone without his best friend. That's how we ended up together and the rest is history.

“What about piggy?” Lloyd asks. “Piggy?” You furrow your brows in confusion. “Steve's mistress…” Nick answers on behalf of Lloyd.

Your voice carried a hint of bitterness as you revealed the truth about Peggy. “Peggy never really cared about Steve,” you explained, frowning. “She didn't have any interest in him until he became wealthy. Then, suddenly, she was all over him.” The revelation left a sour taste in your mouth as you pondered the superficial nature of Peggy's intentions.

Your voice quivered with an undercurrent of sadness and regret as you confessed, “Steve always brushed off my concerns about Peggy. He would assure me not to worry, and like a fool, I forgave him each time.” The pain in your words echoed the turmoil within you, as you grappled with the weight of past naivety and misplaced trust.

“I can kill him.” Lloyd suggests and you shook your head, covering your face with your hands.

After some moments, Lloyd's trusted associate, entered the room, his casual attire contrasting sharply with the tense atmosphere. His charismatic presence commanded attention, and his suave demeanour set him apart along with his shaggy hair.

As he settled onto the coffee table next to Nick, his sharp eyes scanned the faces of Lloyd, Andy, and Nick, before finally landing on your tear-stained cheeks. His eyes widened slightly with surprise and sympathy.

“Ah, I see my arrival is a bit late for the party,” Ari quipped, a hint of charm in his voice. His gaze softened as he discreetly nodded in your direction, a silent acknowledgment of your current state.

You wiped away the remnants of tears, feeling a slight blush creep up your cheeks, as you introduced yourself to Ari. “I’m Y/n, L/n” you murmured, attempting a hint of a smile. “Ari Levinson.” he takes your hand, to kiss your knuckles, making Lloyd glare at him, while Nick and Andy try to control their laugh.

“Steve is an idiot, you are so gorgeous.” Ari winks at you, making you blush and Lloyd looks like, he will go on a killing spree, Ari smirks at him. “I got the information you wanted. Shall I begin?”

Part 3- Part 5

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@whore-for-chris-evans @caplanreblogsfics

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stxrvel · 5 months

Text

i don't wanna live forever (1)

summary: reader couldn't stop having deaths in her life ever since the Supersoldier serum came into her life. no matter how hard she tried to stay sane, it seemed that life didn't want to give her a break. until, one afternoon, she learned that one of her old friends was alive… (you guys know im bad at summaries, but please give this one a chance)

pairing: bucky barnes x f!reader

words: +4.5k

warnings: angst, major character deaths, canon deaths¿?, bad words, english is not my first language! thoughts of revenge and death, this is like an introductory chapter, so the buckyxreader interaction is low, but it'll get better, i promise!

note: holy fuck guys. i just spent like five hours writing and editing this and i fucking love it. its been a while since ive been this proud of a work, im actually scare the emotion will disappear, but i really want to rejoice in this one. i wanted to write something a little different from my usuals, maybe a little common in the fanfiction world, but i started and i simply could not stop (or maybe just approach this bucky fic from another perspective). so this is the first part and i'll try with all my heart to keep this going because it was fucking insane, at least for me. i really hope you all like this as much as i do! feel free to leave any comment! thanks always for all the support!! see you next time <3

part 2 ; part 3 ; part 4

When you went into the Supersoldier serum project with Steve, you thought you were going to change the world. Of course, at that time when technology was relatively new any invention felt like the beginning of a new era. That's how it was all sold to you and it was how you expected everything to turn out… Until you realized that it was all really a waste of effort and time.

They were just propaganda for war. Not to stop it, to promote it. To motivate it.

You tried, on several occasions, not to think too much about it. You tried to stay out of it as Steve sometimes asked you to, even though even he didn't want to, as Bucky asked you to when you lay on his shoulder to cry in the little time you had free between trips. It was a great burden of guilt and helplessness.

Until you and Steve, with the almost imposed help of Peggy and Howard, rescued Bucky from the evil hands of Johann Schmidt and his nefarious organization, HYDRA, that, unbeknownst to you, would haunt you for a long time to come. It was only after that, after spending several sleepless days on edge thinking about what might be happening to Bucky, that you and Steve were finally able to go out and contribute something. Destroy HYDRA and the Red Skull's plans.

Of course, you realized that not everything could go right when, the one mission you couldn't attend, Bucky didn't return. And then Steve didn't come back either.

“Do you think this will ever end?” you had asked Bucky the day before his last mission.

“Of course it will,” he had answered without hesitation, moonlight illuminating his clear eyes, squeezing your hand as if it was all he wanted to do for the rest of his life. “And after that we can begin to live as it should be.”

But there was no after that, because you never recovered from losing him. From losing them both.

“Are you okay?” Peggy approached, in the middle of the afternoon when the sun was streaming through the stained glass windows of the church, illuminating the spot where Steve's empty coffin had been, because they didn't even find his body. They didn't even think there was any of it left.

You barely moved your head to acknowledge her presence, moving the prayer slip they had recited throughout the mass between your hands. Your eyes were crystallized, in tears that no longer even made the effort to flow, because you had already spent too many days and nights crying. Peggy had been on the other side of the church, sitting next to Howard while the priest spoke, because you had refused to be near them in those moments. You didn't want to be near them.

“As well as one can be,” you slurred, finding that it had been a long time since you'd last used your voice for anything other than cursing and crying disconsolately.

The people had already left, probably an hour or more ago. The empty coffin had already been brought out, all the flower arrangements had been picked up, and the priest was preparing for the evening mass. You knew you had to leave, you knew Peggy and Howard were there waiting for you, but you felt stuck at that moment. You didn't want to leave, you didn't want to get ahead, you didn't want that life if it had to be this cruel.

You heard Peggy's sigh, before she took a seat next to you, a short distance away, averting her gaze to look at Christ on the cross.

You didn't know if you were selfish to be so closed off to your friends at this moments, because they must be grieving as much as you were, but you didn't know how to deal with the future possibilities. Bucky and Steve, great men and soldiers, one even with enhanced abilities, had not been able to make it through the punishment of war. What if Peggy and Howard were the same? What if they too had the cruel fate of dying at the hands of injustice? Could you deal with that? With everyone gone?

Maybe you could open up to them a little more because if not, who else? Turning away from them was not going to ensure their survival in this hate-filled society. Maybe you could protect them, like you couldn't protect Steve and Bucky. Maybe you could make a difference, because you had the chance to.

“You know,” Peggy spoke again, rearranging herself on the bench and crossing her legs, “Steve always knew this was how it would end.”

Her wistful, mournful, fragile voice sent a shiver through your body. Peggy didn't consider herself someone to show herself vulnerable in front of others no matter how close they were, even in those things that hurt her the most, in those things that affected her personally and made her eyes water instantly, she always tended to shut down. And at that moment you didn't dare interrupt her because you knew it would probably be the only time she would talk about Steve in a long time.

“Sometimes we'd talk, between tour trips, and he would tell me that wasn't what he wanted to do, even when he had to convince you otherwise,” her clasped hands would occasionally squeeze between words, blinking rapidly to fight back the tears. “He didn't know if he'd made the right decision.”

You could almost picture him, backstage at the foot of the stairs with that notebook he carried everywhere and wouldn't let go, Peggy at his side nostalgic, as helpless as the others. It reminded you of the times you'd had similar conversations with Bucky, desperate to find a purpose, a way through so much fog.

“The first time I saw him so sure of himself was when he asked us to help them look for Bucky,” she mumbled his name, as if trying not to scare you away by saying it too loudly. “Ever since then it seemed like he'd found that spark…”

“Until Bucky died,” you whispered, the words cutting through the cold and silence, Peggy shifting on the bench contritely.

“He lost something of himself from that day on, it wasn't hard to tell. The next time I heard him so sure after spending days lost, it was on that call from the plane.”

Peggy paused, raising her hand to cover her mouth as her voice faltered. You turned to look at her, wishing you could rip the pain from her soul and leave it in yours. She was trying to contain her emotions, breathing deeply, and in that moment you wondered what life might be like from now on, with the specter of grief following you around, waiting for the next time the dead knocked on your doors, unexpectedly, without allowing you to say goodbye.

“He had told me he wouldn't die in peace until he could get it all over with. And he took it all with him. And I hated him so much for it…” Peggy sobbed, her labored breathing standing out between words. She kept looking straight ahead at the stained glass windows, the expression on her face hard and scowling despite having tears rolling down her cheeks, as if she were trying to blame something for what had happened. Her reproachful eyes fixed on the Christ.

Her wails echoed through the walls of the church, the father on the dais sending them a look of sorrow. He had offered you water, thirty minutes after everyone at Steve's wake had left, when they kept walking, and you stood there.

Another empty casket.

“Ladies,” Howard's voice reached your ears amidst all the physical and emotional numbness. You could barely notice Peggy wiping under her eyes with the pocket square that was surely part of Howard's suit, as she took breaths to get up. “We should go now.”

You heard him walk, his slow, careful steps stopping just behind you. There, on his feet with his chest tight, he rested a hand on your shoulder and gave it a squeeze in support. He knew it was the most you would allow him at a time like this, deciding not to pass up the opportunity to let you know he was there. You sighed, feeling a heaviness take over your body as you stood up.

“Yeah, let's go.”

The next few months passed in a blur. Maybe too fast, maybe too slow, you weren't sure anymore.

Peggy continued to work at the Strategic Science Reserve for a couple of years, calling you from time to time to help her with some jobs. You kept a low profile, practically a fugitive from the state, while trying to live a halfway normal life in Europe. A lot of it thanks to Howard really.

Life had become a rather monotonous routine when you stopped getting so many calls from Peggy and Howard several years later. You knew they were fine, but not being able to return to the country filled you with anguish every day. And trying to lead a normal life became too complicated when you looked in the mirror and it seemed like not a single day had passed since you were in that capsule of Dr. Erskine's with Steve.

Until Peggy called one day asking you to come back. She told you that it was safe, that there would be no state officials waiting for you at the airport, but even if that had been the situation, you wouldn't have hesitated for a second to buy the first plane ticket and fly to see them again. To Howard and Peggy, to melt into an embrace, longing for the lost years.

You had thought that contributing to the fight in World War II had earned you a ticket to at least be recognized in the military, but all you gained was the government with their mad scientists looking for you to try to recreate the Supersoldier serum. Peggy didn't want to risk you and Howard gave you no choice by giving you a plane ticket to Finland with your bags packed.

You wasted many years not being by their side, unable to keep the promise you had made them in your head to be close by to protect them, to watch over their safety.

But when you left the airport there was only Peggy, and maybe that should've told you everything.

Her hair already looked gray, the effects of gravity and time present on her face. You hated to think that you shouldn't have looked any different from the way she saw you last time when she waved you off at that same airport. Her warm gaze was the same, raising her arms with held back tears to encircle you in a big hug. She tried hard not to sob against your shoulder, you felt the choppy movement of her breath against your chest.

She looked so different and the same at the same time.

You walked to her car a moment later, her trying to carry your suitcase and you telling her you were perfectly fine carrying it on your own. Amidst a smile, she walked into the driver's door and you frowned as you saw the empty passenger seat.

“Where's Howard?” you spoke as you sat down, after stowing the huge suitcase in the trunk of the car. The way you moved to buckle up, you didn't notice the way Peggy froze in place, her hands clenching the steering wheel so tightly that her breath hitched from the effort.

“We're going to see him,” was all she said, but she was very good at hiding that something was wrong. Only for a little while.

During the trip, even though you tried to ask things about them, about what they had been doing during this time, you didn't miss the way her shoulders were tense or her eyes very alert. Something bad had happened and Peggy was trying to hide it from you.

When she pulled up in front of a church, you already knew what had happened without her answering a single one of your questions.

Howard had died.

You two had sat next to Howard's son Tony, his spitting image, in complete silence as the prayers went on. At that moment you didn't know what had happened, hoping it had been a quiet and peaceful death, because you didn't know if you would be able to endure another violent death.

Peggy gave you all the details when the mass was over, after the coffin was taken away, and you hadn't felt such fury in so many years. Not since the deaths of Bucky and Steve had that adrenaline rush of anger returned to run through your body as violently as it did at that moment, when Peggy told you that he had been murdered along with his wife. All to steal some prototypes of Dr. Erskine's serum. The damned serums with which everything had started.

This time there was a body in the coffin, but there was also a culprit. Someone to point the finger at and take it out on for years of anguish and pain.

You were at Peggy's house, staying for a few days, when she told you that wasn't all.

Peggy had a suspicion that HYDRA hadn't disappeared when Steve crashed that plane into the ice. Her suspicions generated panic in you, because Bucky and Steve had died for that, now apparently Howard, only for it all to have been for nothing. The feeling of carnage that ran through your whole head made you nauseous, years of helplessness and pain pent up in such a small body had to find its way out somehow.

“It was a man, according to the information I've been able to gather,” Peggy spoke, taking a seat across from you in the dining room of her living room, after pouring you a glass of lemonade. “He didn't die from the crash. He had a concussion. He was hit in the head. His wife died from asphyxiation.”

“Does Tony know?”

“No,” Peggy shook her head quickly, one hand over her heart as if the mere thought caused her physical pain. “It didn't even occur to me to tell him something like that.”

“And he was looking for the serum,” you recalled, a bitter feeling planted in the back of your throat, the memories of the disastrous times during the war coming back into your head like a blinding flash.

“He took them. We don't know who he is or who he works for, but whoever they are, they must have been following us for a long time to know about them.”

“You mean years,” you arched an eyebrow, your fingers touching the cool exterior of the glass seeking some reassurance.

“Possibly. That project isn't recent,” Peggy nodded, drinking her lemonade with a grimace. You stared at the liquid almost finished from her glass, a wrinkle forming between your brows with each passing second and you kept wondering why.

“But what the fuck was going through that asshole's head?” you spat angrily. Rage at already the amount of lives that serum had taken with it and at Howard's recklessness. Rage at the reaper who seemed to be following in their footsteps for some reason, rage at that damn man and whoever his damn boss was.

“It was the only option, Y/N,” Peggy turned her gaze, meeting your eyes with a strange glint.

“What do you mean?” you were almost afraid to ask, your friend's gaze suddenly turning evasive. You watched her run her fingernails over the glass of the tumbler, lost for a moment in thought. The way her shoulders slumped forward in defeat caused a pressure in your chest that made it hard to breathe. Peggy shouldn't be going through these things at this point in life.

“Howard was working with the Pentagon, as a contractor or something. They had found you. Howard felt cornered and they made him sign an agreement.”

With your incredulous look on her face, Peggy didn't dare look back at you for a few seconds. So much had happened since you had left and it seemed that you had only been told about the things you weren't going to care about so much. But if you had known that you wouldn't have cared much about giving some of the state officials their comeuppance. You would've liked Howard to trust you enough to tell you, not live in as much fear behind his back as the last few years must've been. You didn't like the way Peggy's lips curved downward, as if she, too, would've preferred to make another decision had she known this was how it was going to end.

“Howard assured them that he could recreate the serum, and told them he would as long as they left you alone.”

“Fucking asshole…” you closed your eyes, scrubbing your face with your hands. The rough skin of your hands rubbed against the delicate skin of your face, years of combat and mistreatment foreseeing a harshness that reminded you every day of what you'd had to go through to get to that moment.

“I only found out about it after it happened. I didn't see it for like a whole week,” Peggy shook her head slightly, her eyes glistening in the pain of the memories. You shook your head hard, a more violent reaction than you could have anticipated.

“That stupid… stupid asshole! What the fuck made him think I couldn't defend myself?”

“He was trying to do the right thing,” Peggy finally searched your eyes, meeting the red rims that told her you were holding back too hard breaking in front of her, only using that pain mixed with rage to keep you sane.

“And look how that turned out!”

Peggy stretched her hand across the table, with a pleading look asking you to lower your voice, averting her gaze to the hallway. You followed her gaze, for a second forgetting where you were, forgetting that her family was with you behind the doors where you were plunged into darkness. It was past midnight.

You took a second to calm yourself, trying to drown out the uncontrolled emotions and taking deep breaths to calm your fluttering heart.

“And if what you theorize is true…” you regretted the moment those words left your mouth; you didn't even want to finish the sentence.

“Do you think it is?”

“I don't want to,” you shook your head instantly, closing your eyes, the thought sounding illogical inside your head. Your hands on your chest trying to contain the storm of feelings that was making chaos inside your head. “That would mean that everything we did, everything Bucky, Steve and Howard did and sacrificed, was in vain. It will all have been in vain.”

You spent several weeks with that thought in your head, working hand in hand with Peggy, and the organization you barely knew as SHIELD, to track down the whereabouts of the killer of Tony's parents and the one responsible because the Supersoldier's serums were, surely, in the wrong hands.

And yes, it was many years of fruitless missions and dead ends, with you running every field mission and Peggy calling the shots from the New York facility. Every time you felt close to discovering something, it seemed that the enemy rejoiced in your failures and still couldn't understand how they were always three steps ahead.

However, you had to leave the missions when Peggy became ill.

The silent, lethal Alzheimer's.

During the first months in the hospital, she still recognized you. She also recognized her husband and children. But after the first year, she frowned every time her children walked through the door. After a year and a half, her husband had to remind her that they had been married for about forty years.

After two years, she was still only remembering you, Howard, Steve and Bucky. Her whole life during her time in the army was all you talked about, sometimes you would tell her how much more time had passed than she remembered and always, without fail, she would ask you how much you had done in Europe for so long by yourself.

She cried every time she remembered Howard's death. She cried every time she remembered her children. Out of her mouth came a thousand apologies that no one would accept, because there was nothing anyone could do to prevent what had to happen. You wished she had been a serum test subject instead of you.

For several years, missions to find Tony's parents killer were sporadic because you spent more time around Peggy than at the SHIELD facility. She was the only thing you had left of everything you'd ever had, of when you held the world in your hands. She was the last thing keeping you tethered to that reality, keeping madness from flooding your reason. How could you have so many years ahead of you when that was all you had to live for? A life full of the dead, full of pain and suffering. What kind of karma were you paying for?

You were leaving the SHIELD facility, after another failed mission, when Nick Fury stopped you in front of the exit. You almost rolled your eyes right under his watchful gaze, tired of having to meet him anywhere, and exhausted from his comments about this vengeance project or whatever he wanted you to be a part of.

You still didn't know how, being such an exemplary agent, Coulson had fallen into his nets.

“Miss L/N,” the man stopped you with his words, his hands behind his back and a tense stance that caught your attention.

“Fury,” you nodded in his direction, hoping he'd be quick because you were running late for your weekly visit with Peggy. “Do you need anything?”

“I'd like you to come with me somewhere,” Fury approached tentatively, his one eye fixed on your wary expression, which shifted to boredom the moment you thought you knew what he wanted.

“If this is about that project, I've told you a thousand times-”

“No,” he interrupted you, moving forward and removing his hands from behind his back. “It's not related to that. I really want you to come with me.”

“You look agitated, but I need-”

“I'll take you to see Peggy myself after this.”

You didn't like that he knew your routine, even though you weren't doing enough to hide it from the other agents. But Fury looked nervous, even though he was hiding it very well, trying to keep his cool as he looked for ways to convince you.

You figured it wouldn't be a big deal for you to go off the deep end for once. After all, Peggy never remembered you were going to see her.

You set off in Fury's armored vans, not quite sure where you were going, but sure that it was urgent, because he had taken it upon himself to let his driver know that you had to get there as soon as possible.

You took that time on the trip to come up with a new strategy for the next mission because what you were doing up to that point wasn't working and you felt too close to throwing in the towel, figuratively speaking. You could spend years following a ghost, but you wouldn't give up on finding Howard and Maria's killer.

Before the car pulled up to one of SHIELD's secret sections, they passed the giant, imposing Stark Tower. You never saw Tony again after that time at his parents' funeral, not even during his visits to Peggy because you always made it a point not to cross him. You didn't think you'd be able to look him in the eye while you knew his parents had been killed without being able to tell him. You had promised Peggy in her lucid moments that you wouldn't tell him anything until you could find the culprit. You didn't want to initiate that pain if it had to be kept repressed, as yours once was, and probably still is. You had learned, some time after the funeral, that he was living with Edwin Jarvis, and you were glad to know that he would have good companionship to keep him company in such hard times.

Fury, a handful of agents and you entered the vans through the entrance to what appeared to be the parking lot of an old warehouse. Upon entering, the first thing you noticed was the number of armed agents that seemed to be guarding the place, not at all discreet to how SHIELD used to do things. You weren't sure if Peggy would authorize something like that, but you couldn't question the Director's decisions. It wasn't your place.

“What's going on here?” you frowned, watching as every meter there was another agent and another agent. You got out of the car without waiting for an answer from Fury, moving directly toward the entrance where most of the agents were concentrated. You barely noticed their looks in contradiction, running their eyes over you and then over the man trying to catch up to you, dubious as to whether or not they should move. “Move.”

“Wait,” Fury's voice stopped the command in the agents, who turned back to look at you as you sent Fury a confused look.

“What's all this mystery, Nicholas?” the man startled almost discreetly at your tone of voice, the agents stirring uncomfortably, but kept the serene expression that was getting on your nerves. “What the fuck did you do?”

“We got a call from the Arctic.”

“From the Arctic?”

You tried to ignore the way the hairs on your neck instantly stood up, your body alerting you to something your mind still couldn't comprehend. You felt like a deer face to face with a predator, expecting the worst.

“The Colonel informed us of something that might interest us,” Fury's cryptic voice echoed in your ears, drowning out the flicker of uncertainty vibrating from your head to your toes. “They found a plane.”

You didn't even answer him. Your heart began to pound wildly, cornered, ready to have your head bitten off. The tension in your shoulders intensified, with the involuntary movement of your hands as you broke into a cold sweat. The mere implication of his words caused an emptiness in your stomach, a sense of longing and fear you hadn't felt before.

You looked at Fury, trying to find in his gaze the gleam of a lie, but there was nothing there but assurance. There was nothing but recognition and understanding in his gaze, but that didn't make the emptiness in your stomach and the tight chest go away. It didn't make the feeling of being outside your body go away.

You barely remembered to move in the direction of the door, the agents instantly moving out of your way, pushing it so hard that one of them flew out. You moved your eyes around every corner of the room, the cream-colored walls generating a great repulsion in you. And there, in the midst of all the confusion and the storm, a confused and disgruntled face looked back at you. A face you never thought you would see again.

Steve Rogers was standing a few feet away from you, barely comprehending what was happening around him and instantly recognizing you. Your chest compressed once again, the tears you held back for so many years even in your loneliness making their own way into your eyes, endangering to end that mask you wore everywhere you went.

Steve was actually there, looking back at you with his eyes shining in recognition. You didn't know if he was as surprised as you were to react or you looked so bad that he didn't know if he should approach you or not. You just knew it was him, it really was him right there in front of you. He wasn't dead. Steve wasn't dead. He was alive. Ah, he was so alive.

The broken sob that suddenly left you was loud enough to make your friend shed his stupefaction and stride over to where you were. You barely managed to cover your face, between sobs, wails and disbelief, feeling your knees give out, surrendering to the weight of the pain, when his strong arms grabbed your shoulders before you hit the floor. Preventing your fall, as you had wished so many times before.

You cried against his shoulder, when feeling him against your body you knew there was no doubt it was true. You moved your hands away from your face, wrapping them around his waist as tightly and lovingly as you hadn't hugged anyone in so long. Surely the last time you hugged someone like that was when you saw Peggy on your way back from Europe.

Steve wasn't far behind, his arms around your shoulders just as tightly, his chin against the crown of your head, moving from side to side trying to hold back the loud sobs that shook your body.

You couldn't believe it, but it was true, he was right in front of you.

Steve was alive. He had come back to your side. You didn't even want to ask why.

And there was nothing else you could think about for the rest of your life.

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