#enjoy my bucky phase

[notsopersonalcharlie]

Ride Home

Snowboarder!Bucky x fem!skiier!reader

Note: I was watching my friend being taught to snowboard and thought of this. Gif is not mine

Warnings: none?

Bucky plopped down into a snowbank unceremoniously and started to undo the strap attaching his back foot to his snowboard. Steve and Sam had gone off to run some black diamonds, but he never had quite felt confident on his other side after the incident that left him with a prosthetic arm. Not that he didn’t trust it, but he had swapped sides for everything, writing, punching, even shooting. He was snapped out of his own shame spiral by a man, wearing a set of rather expensive and new looking gear, swearing at the woman who appeared to be trying to teach him. 

“When you said skiing I didn’t think you meant full fucking mountain day. I thought we’d get some drinks, hang out. This is fucking rediculous and these skis and fucking trash.” 

“You said you knew how! I thought this was-“

“I said I had been before, I thought at least you’d fucking be nice about it. May-“

“Just go get a drink then!” You sounded exasperated and Bucky took a closer look, noting the well loved outfit and skis. Clearly they had been used and were being cared for as such. 

“Aren’t you at least going to come?” It sounded more like a command to Bucky than a suggestion. 

“No, I’m going to ski, which is what I paid for a pass to do. I’ll come meet you later.” 

“Yeah well… don’t drink. You’re going to have to drive us back to the city.” The man stumbled away and you sighed, rubbing your forehead before kicking into your own skis and heading for the lift. Bucky cursed to himself after you had started moving and pushed his way up right behind you in the singles line. There weren’t a whole load of people waiting for the lift, it was getting towards lunch time, and he managed to get up beside just you on the lift. 

You glanced over at the snowboarder who decided he had to get on that chair with you, despite the mostly empty line behind you. He had all black gear with a crisp white jacket that had clearly been mended and bleached a few places. He rode goofy and his board knocked up against the edge of your skis when the chair rejoined the cable. 

“I heard that guy being an asshole back there. Sorry you had to deal with the shitty part of the male species.” The somberness with which he said it made you laugh a little. 

“Thanks he was, uh, a set up kinda. I’m new to town, and my parents decided the best way for me to make friends was to go out with one of their college friends’ sons. This is technically our third date and… wow I am spilling info on a stranger. Sorry.”

“No no, he sounds like he sucks. I heard you say he said he knew how.” 

“Yeah! He did! And I even asked before we came out here. Clearly he bought that whole… whole getup to impress me. It was so stupid.” You were waving your hands emphatically and Bucky couldn’t help but smile.

“Well, all I will say is that guys like that don’t actually know how to do anything.” Silence lapsed as you started getting closer to the end of the lift. 

“Uh, how would you want to ride with me and my friends today? Or ski I guess. I’m getting my footing back after an accident, but they’re pretty good and I’m sure they would love to have more friends.” You shrugged, hoping the cold air disguised the blush on your cheeks. Bucky had pulled up his goggles and pushed down his mask on the ride under the pretense of speaking more clearly, but you could tell he was handsome and right now was not the time to blow it. 

“I’d love to ride with you for a while. It’s my first time out this season and I could use an easy day.” He smiled and you both made your way off the lift. Your first run down you could tell that he was good, but kept holding back when he turned to his toe side. It was strange to watch since he seemed to favor it otherwise when he moved before. You told him as much at the end of the run. 

“Yeah, I…” Your conversation was halted as you got back on the lift. 

“I, uh, lost my arm kind of recently and I have a fantastic prosthetic, but still just… cautious.” You couldn’t help but let the shock show on your face. His motions seemed entirely unbothered aside from his anxiety about falling. 

“You look like you’re doing great. I don’t know you all that well but based on that run I feel like you shouldn’t be doing the easiest trail on the hill.” He laughed and you began an amazing afternoon riding, and convincing him to go up to some blue slopes where you spotted some of his friends, who waved but quickly surpassed the slow loping runs you were taking.

“Fuck, I do not want to ruin this amazing day with a car ride home with Dan.” 

“Dan?” Bucky asked. It was getting late in the day and his legs were sore, but he was having too good of a time. During a short break at one of the stops on the mountain he’d finally gotten a look at your face aside from your nose and the strands that were collecting snow beside your goggles. He hadn’t been able to stop picturing your face at every other event in his life since then. 

“The guy I was with this morning. The asshole.” He’d basically forgotten about the existence of the other man after spending the day with you. 

“Well, if you’re not totally opposed to riding a few more hours with a no longer stranger, I would be okay driving you back.” He watched your gears turning, deciding. 

“It would kinda be a massive fuck you to him if he had to sober up and drive home down this mountain alone.” 

“Oh shit, do you think he woul-“

“No, I have the keys. He doesn’t seem bright enough to check the car for keys himself though. You sure you don’t mind?” Mind? Bucky thought to himself, he wanted nothing more than to spend more time with you. 

“Not at all.” You finished the next run, a harder one which Bucky took flawlessly, and dropped the keys off at a nice looking car, grabbing your bag, before you followed Bucky back to a slightly beat looking older SUV. 

“I told Steve and Sam I would drop them down at Sam’s car. They’ll be here in a few minutes. What’s your address?” You dictated it to him, omitting the exact number or unit so you weren’t completely risking yourself. To be totally fair he didn’t have your full name or know all that much about you, yet. 

“And maybe my phone number…in case I forget something? Or in case you want a riding buddy again?” A sweet smile crossed Bucky’s face, blue eyes shining. 

“Sure.” You exchanged numbers and by the time you’d taken a goofy picture of him as a contact photo, his friends arrived. They didn’t comment on your position in the passenger seat. 

“So, where do you live?” You told them where about in the city and Sam opened his mouth to commend, but received an icy blue look from Bucky. You couldn’t help but wonder what else that icy blue stare could be for, but tucked the thought away for another time by yourself. 

“That’s mine. Thanks Buck, have a good drive…” Steve cuffed him on the shoulder on the way out.

“What was that about?” 

“Nothing.” You ended up talking for nearly the entire ride, and it was easy conversation. He told you about the snowboarding accident that had resulted in his lost arm, his job, his dog, Alpine. You told him about your roommate, your hometown, and how excited you were to have a fresh start after the absolute shitshow of your old job and friends.

“Where do you live?” The question was entirely for your own benefit, so you could find out how realistic ‘accidentally’ running into him at a store could be.

“I uh…” Bucky’s cheeks turned red when he told you. 

“WHAT? Bucky, that’s like an hour and a half the other way! Are you insane?” You were near your place already, and there was no use arguing with him that you getting out now to try to get another ride made no sense. 

“I just wanted to spend some more time with you. It was such a great day.” You smiled, blushing as you gave him the final directions to your building. 

“It really was a great day.” He stopped in front of your place, idling as you sat in a few more moments of silence. 

“Maybe we could have another great day? Skiing or maybe dinner?” You felt a little forward asking. 

“Well given there’s no natural way for me to accidentally run into you at the corner store, I guess that sounds like a great plan.”

#charliewrites #bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #snowboarder!bucky #marvel #mcu #i love that everyone has decided alpine is right name for a bucky pet #enjoy my bucky phase #its bound to stick a round a while #more to come....

[your-highnessmarvel]

So Much Paperwork

Requested by Anonymous: can you do one with avenger!reader and bucky and they get like either captured by hydra or locked in a room and there sex pollen and they don’t want to get dirty because they’re friends but… eventually they do? ❤️❤️❤️ if you’re not comfortable with this it’s ok!

AN: i’ve never written sex pollen before so bare with me! this is a heeellll of a ride LMMMAAOOOO this is going to spruce up my Bucky masterlist LETS GO

Warnings: smut (oral f!receiving, hand job, vaginal sex, unprotected sex, praising, biting), sex pollen, dub!con action, language, mentions of HYDRA

*gif not mine

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MASTERLIST

When Cap had said it was just a Hydra base, you hadn’t expected to enter a motherlode of enemy information. Opening that vault was like finding a cave filled with gold - every inch of the vault was brimming with sensitive Hydra files, all dog-eared, marked up, or highlighted. 

Bucky insisted on going through each and everyone of them. He had you open up each file cabinet, sift through each file, pick out the most interesting of them all, and place them by the door. Thank God you could read German. 

“Look at this one,” he called from the other side of the vault, far off in the corner. 

You were examining a file on something Hydra called Experiment 4H7, Phase 4. You let the file go before even reading the subject of the experiment and made your way towards Bucky. 

He was wearing his familiar all black outfit, the metal arm a stark silver against the vault’s gold and his suit’s black. He looked over his metal shoulder as you approached. 

“I’m guessing they’re keeping more red rooms in Ukraine,” he stated, showing you the file. There were a number of pictures of young girls varying from blondes to brunets to red heads, all different heights, all different shades of skin tones. 

“Yup,” you sighed, pointing to a line in the file. “That’s a graduate class, I’m guessing, look at that.” You pointed to the German word for Graduation and felt a deep pinch in your belly. These poor women. Unaware that they would be stripped of their rights, of what made them woman. 

You swallowed. “Okay,” you said. “I think we should just leave with what’s by the door?”

You stepped back, feeling the tile beneath your booted heel give and fall an inch lower. A metallic sound, like two gears churning to work, echoed loudly in the vault, and slowly, the vault door started shutting. 

“It’s a boobytrap!” Bucky yelled, dropping the file and running to the door, his metallic hand out to stop it.

“Did I step on a mine?” you yelled back, panic gripping every nerve in your body. 

It felt like time slowed as you looked over your shoulder, soft strands of hair slicking against the sweat on your cheek. You saw Bucky arrive at the door when it had but a few inches left to go, jamming his metal fingers between the closing door and the oval frame.

Every beat of your heart burned as you watched his face flush red, veins in his neck pulsing as he struggled to keep the door just a slight inch open. 

And then, overhead, a quiet squirting sound. You felt tiny pinpricks of water touch your cheek and you looked up. 

“Bucky.” But his name was lost to the sound of him groaning, grunting, heels sliding against the cement floor, sweat forming on his upper lip - all to keep the door from closing. “Bucky!”

When he looked back at you, the vault door closed with a deafening boom. 

“Y/N, don’t breathe in!” he gasped, retrieving his fingers form the door, panting as he made his way towards you. 

“Too late,” you said, feeling the minuscule dots of water dampen the inside of your nose, your lips, your tongue. It tasted so sweet. 

“Fuck,” he murmured, bending to your rest his hand on your boot, the one still pressed on the loose tile. “Y/N, I don’t think it’s a mine.”

You shivered, something achy climbing its way up your spine, burying deep in your belly. “Why?” you asked, closing your eyes as you felt his metal fingers clamp hard over your booted ankle. 

“Because,” he answered. “This was just the trigger for the door.”

You sighed. “Of course, I’m the dumbass who triggers the trap.”

“No worries, doll,” he said with a chuckle, and that nickname, that chuckle, made something sticky and thick slide down your belly, settling comfortably between your legs. Oh no. 

“How do we get out?” you asked, finally moving away from the tile as Bucky stood. You met his eyes, towering over you, and your skin suddenly flashed so hot that you feared he could see the heat fuming off your flesh. You sighed, an excuse to get air into your lungs, to fan out the heat invading your bones. 

He frowned, bent over to get on eye level with you. “Fuck,” he spat, walking towards the door. 

“What?” you asked, suddenly feeling your throat stick, parched, thick with saliva all at once. “Bucky, what’s happening?” You’d wanted your voice to sound panicky, but somehow, it came out... breathy. Like a purr. 

Bucky bashed his metal fist into the vault door, but the thing only echoed the sound back, not even denting, not even screeching. 

“Fuck!” Bucky yelled, raking his flesh hand through his short, cropped hair. 

He looked at you over the expanse of the vault, just a few meters apart, and something inside you ached, like an intense burn that made the fabric of your suit hurt against your skin, feel like hot iron against your nipples, the soft flesh on the inside of your thigh. 

God, you needed to get out of this suit. But not here. 

“How long until Cap comes for us?” you asked, falling to your knees, heat blasting from your knees to your scalp as you found the floor. Maybe it was cold. 

Bucky didn’t answer. He watched you fall flat to the ground, press your heated, sweaty cheek to the floor, chasing any kind of relief from this mounting pain, this heat. 

He gritted his teeth and took a step back. 

“What’s happening?” you asked again, rolling onto your back. The floor was but a brief relief of the heat, of the pain burning harshly under your skin. You closed your sweaty lids, scrapped your nails against your damp hairline. When had you gotten so sweaty? 

You reached up to the zipper of your one-piece suit, ready to tug it down. 

“Y/N, don’t.” Bucky’s voice, usually comforting, friendly, guiding - now sounded like a wolfish demand, a famished lion salivating at the sight of bleeding prey. 

You breathed in harshly, suddenly, your mind shifting the narrative of who Bucky was to you in a split second. A heartbeat before, Bucky was your superior, your friend who’d been nothing but a guiding force through your life - taking you from the depths of fear and desperation to acceptance. He’d brought you to the Avengers, to Cap and Nat, to a team of people like you - misfits who fit together. 

But now. Now the Bucky you knew was shadowed by this new grumbling, groaning wolf. 

“It hurts,” you panted, eyes still closed. You reached up anyway and undid your zipper, opening your suit down to your bellybutton, like slicing open a piece of meat. 

You heard something fleshy hit the floor, and you opened your eyes, looking back. It hurt to scrape your head against the cement, but you saw Bucky on his knees there, looking at you with something dark and hungry glazing over his eyes. 

Your eyes fell back to the ceiling above you, and you opened your suit up, arching off the cement in search of air. Your skin was pebbled with sweat, scorched to the touch. 

“If you expose more skin,” Bucky panted, and you realized that he was closer, almost breathing into your ear. “I’m not going to be able to stop myself.”

“What’s happening?” you asked, for the millionth time, feeling an ache start to build dangerously fast in your cunt, throbbing, burning, slicking down your thighs with every beat of your heart. Every rush of blood in your veins was pain, every throb in your hole like a searing demand, an ache insatiable. Even when you wiggled, even when you groaned, clamping your thighs together, turning to your side and trying to find friction.  

Your clit was a pained, throbbing mess. 

“Doll,” Bucky breathed, and God, that sent another wave of hurt coursing down your spine, snapping in your blood like lightning. You could feel your pussy slick even more at the utter wretchedness of his voice.  

You groaned. Shaking your head. “No,” you whined. “Not this.” You’d heard about this - this experiment on something Hydra called sex pollen. They’d first used it in their breeding program they’d started during the second world war, when they wanted more Aryan children. They’d perfected it during the Cold War, and started manufacturing it for breeding camps they’d scattered across barren wastelands to produce more Hydra pawns. And now, they were using it as chemical warfare. 

“Bucky, no,” you whined, feeling hot, steaming tears wet your cheeks. You couldn’t do this. Bucky was your friend, your boss even. He was 7 years older than you (although he was technically like, 109 years old, but still). You were a rookie and he, your training officer. Your were his student and he was your professor. This was wrong on so many levels. “How much time does this last?” you asked, shivering, feeling another nauseating wave of need pulse through you. 

“I’m... I’m not sure,” he said, struggling to say each word. Like air was unknown to his lungs. Like he was fighting every instinct in his bones. 

But just the sound of his voice was enough to make another wave of excruciating pain wash through you, making you groan and wiggle against the floor. That ache in your clit intensified, pulsed painfully.

“Make it stop,” you murmured. “It hurts... so much.”

There was a second of silence until you heard the telltale sound of fabric rustling. Just the thought of Bucky naked, even an inch of skin available to your hungry eyes, made your cunt clench on nothing and you groaned in pain again. 

“I’m so sorry, y/n,” he said. “There’s only one way to make it stop.”

You shook your head, shivering. “No.”

Your heart stuttered as another wash of hot, molten lava scorched through your veins and this time, you sobbed, teeth clenching. 

“You can die, y/n,” Bucky whimpered and this time, his voice was right there, above you, a hand skimming across your thigh. 

You made a whimpering sound at the feel of his hand, even the slightest touch like a bucket of cold water had been dumped over your head. 

You opened your eyes and through tear-stained lashed and heavy lids, you looked back, seeing Bucky hunched over you, shirtless and sweating and with nothing but pain in those dark blue eyes of his. 

He bit his lip, meeting your eyes, and he nodded slowly. 

At this point, your entire body was shivering, sweaty, heating to the point that you thought your body would shut down. 

“Let me help,” he said, wretched, rough. 

When he applied the entire weight of his hand on your hip, it was like a lightning bolt had exploded under your skin. A moan ripped from your throat, utterly wrecked and rough and gone. 

Bucky said something but it was lost to the smoke in your head. He pulled down the rest of your suit, exposing hardened nipples to the air, but it still wasn’t cold enough. You wiggled your hips as he dragged the rest of the fabric down your body, to your legs until he was chucking off your boots and leaving you in nothing but your underwear. 

“Doll,” he rasped, pressing his fingers to your ankles, gently scraping up until he was resting both hands on the inside of your soft, plush thighs. “You’re soaked.”

You groaned, panting on the floor, feeling sticky, achy, and on fire. You pressed your hips forward, searching, searching. “Bucky, please.”

“Jesus, forgive me,” he groaned, and when you opened your eyes to meet the white lights above, he pressed a kiss to your clothed clit and you moaned salaciously.

One hand instinctively gripped at the roots of his brown hair, pulling him ever closer. The other clawed at the arm that came to rest over your tummy. 

A sharp, bruising knot formed in your tummy when he used one finger to move your thong to the side and he pressed a warm, wet kiss to your bare pussy. 

“Fuck, Bucky.” It came as a breath, like this was the first fresh, real breath you’d taken in years. 

He groaned against your skin, the vibrations dribbling up your belly, up your spine. Your toes curled as he gave his first few strokes of his tongue, long and harsh, like he was at a watering hole after days of being parched. 

“You taste like heaven, kitten,” he murmured, flattening his tongue against your clit and stroking it quickly, little flicks that sent your spine arching, your eyes closing, toes curling against his back. 

He gripped your hips in both hands, digging in to his meal, each stroke of his tongue like a spark against your clit. 

Your first orgasm wasn’t enough. It wasn’t enough to quench the heat, to cool the fire raging in your belly. Like a monstrous black wave, the pollen kept your senses awaken. 

“Bucky, again,” you whined, closing your thighs against his head, guiding his mouth back to your hole. He kept licking, sucking against your clit. 

Your second orgasm was like a temporary wash of relief. You smiled against each wave, hips stuttering against Bucky’s mouth. 

“It won’t be enough,” he said, voice wrecked, as he kissed up your thighs, igniting another wave of harsh, hot lava to drip from your belly into your clit. You whined. “I know,” he cooed, his eyes glazed as he hovered over you. When you met his gaze, you could see that he was fighting his own seams, that he was just as fragile and wanting and needing as you were. 

You reached between your bodies, skimming your nails down his hard chest, hearing the faint groan that left his lips. You patted down his belly, down until your hand wrapped around the impossibly hard, thick bulge in his suit pants. 

He bowed forward, sighing, moaning as you felt him out. Something like confidence, dark cunning, invaded your senses like a drug. 

“I need to be inside you so bad, y/n,” he groaned, hiding his face in the crook of your shoulder. Just the weight of his body on your chest, feeling his heat, his every breath, every tremble of his fingers as he clawed at your bare hip, your plush thighs, made you tremble with need. 

Hurriedly, he pressed away from you, pushing down his pants until his drooling, hard cock sprang free. He let it flop against your belly, groaning at the feeling, and when you met his eyes, he was nothing but a feral, hungry wolf. 

He claimed your mouth in a sudden, voracious kiss, tasting yourself on his lips as he ground into you. Delving his tongue passed your teeth, nipping at your bottom lip, breathing life into you with every stroke of his tongue against yours. 

You gripped his shaft slowly, feeling the velvety skin, stroking him in slow, languid movements of your wrist. Your other hand found his hair, pushing his mouth closer to yours, kissing him with fervour and need. His own hands cupped your head, positioned you the way he wanted. 

Then his metal fingers closed over your knee, hooking your leg over his hips, and he pulled away form your mouth in a wet, sloppy pop. He breathed, calming himself, but with you clawing at his shoulders, bringing him closer, hands stroking his dick quickly, he couldn’t stop himself. Even if he wanted to. Even if, deep down, in the dark, almost forgotten corners of his mind, he knew this was wrong, wrong, wrong - he wanted to lose himself in you. Just your taste wasn’t enough. Two of your orgasms against his lips wasn’t enough. Kissing you like he’d dreamed of doing so many times in his wet dreams - all of it wasn’t enough. 

He fell to one forearm, bringing his mouth to your ear. Your hand still slicking against him. Your mouth kissing against his neck, up his jaw. Your other hand digging nails into the hard muscle of his tricep. Your hot, wet thigh pressed against his bare hip. 

“I’m going to fuck you, y/n,” he grunted against your ear. 

You nodded, pushing your hips up, towards him. He pulled away from your stroking hand and you felt his tip press at your wet entrance. He shivered when he thrust the tip in, feeling your hole give in to him. 

You gasped as he slid in slowly. Now was when you realized just how big he was. How thick and unforgiving his cock was as he stretched your walls, impaling himself into you inch by inch. 

It was a painful stretch that made your knees tremble, gripping onto his shoulders for dear fucking life. 

“So tight,” he whispered against your ear. “Were you waiting for me, doll?”

His voice was like a sin committed in church. 

You whimpered when he pushed in completely, seating himself to the root, until every inch of him was pressed up against you. 

“Did you save this pussy for me, huh, kitten?” he rasped, pulling back and thrusting in slowly. He groaned, bowing forward. “So wet, doll, I can feel you dripping all over me.”

Who knew Bucky could be this filthy with his mouth. It made your body snap like a rubberband. 

He kissed up your throat, giving you shallow, quick strokes until he could feel your gummy walls relax and when he knew you were ready, he rutted against you like a dog gone mad. 

He gripped your hip, thrusting into you until your body was numb, your walls clenching against him, a pressure building just under your bellybutton. 

“Bucky,” you whined, sobbed, as he kept hitting that spot in you that made sparks dance along your spine.

“I can feel you, doll,” he grunted, teeth biting into your shoulder. “Come on, darlin’, you’re almost there.”

Your mouth opened in a small ��o’, spine arching off the floor, adding to the pressure against his dick as your walls clenched impossibly tight against him, fluttering, buzzing, until your orgasm exploded through your flesh like a bomb of sparks and fireworks. 

You fell back to the floor, spine loose against the cement, your orgasm spinning through your blood as he kept rutting into you, chasing his own relief. 

You weakly grabbed onto his shoulders, pressed your face against his shoulder. “Fuck me, Bucky,” you pleaded. “Fuck me like I know you’ve always wanted to.” Your voice was so small, so wrecked from him, and it drove him crazy, drilling into you without rhythm. 

“So filthy, my doll,” he cooed, groaning when he heard you moan against his flesh. 

He fell onto you so suddenly, robbing you of air as he ground against you, chasing his own high. And after a few sloppy, shallow thrusts, you felt his cum inside you, his seed filling every inch of your gummy walls until he was dripping out of you and onto the cement. 

He breathed roughly, panting, gasping against your shoulder. And suddenly, his harsh hands became gentle on your cooling skin, stroking slowly against your waist. 

Your heart slowed, numbness filling you up like a dark, tentative wave. You were finally, finally cooling down, at peace, no more pain or ache or desire making every one of your movements excruciating. 

“I’m so sorry, y/n,” Bucky panted quietly, his face still hidden in your shoulder. “I never intended us to do... this.”

You shook your head. But no words formed in your mind, no coherent thought even took place as you just lay there, enjoying his weight, his heat. 

“We can’t stay here,” he said. He was so quiet, so gentle. He helped you get dressed in your soiled, cold suit. He zipped you up, did his best to smooth down your hair, tried to get as much of his cum off the floor with his boot. No use. 

When he got up and tucked himself back in his pants, tugging them over his hips, you couldn’t help the chuckle that left your lips. 

“We’re going to be in so much trouble, Bucky,” you said, almost like if you laughed about it, it wasn’t that bad, right?

He sighed, shaking his head. “Just...” he hesitated, putting his shirt back on. “I couldn’t watch you suffer like that.”

You nodded. 

“Cap will come get us,” he continued, almost reassuringly. “We’ll get some rest... shower too, and then we’ll talk about what’s next.”

You leaned against the wall, so tired, so fucked out that nothing else seemed even remotely satisfying except your bed. 

“What’s next is a lot of fucking paperwork, Buck.”

#bucky #bucky barnes #bucky smut #sex pollen #buckyxyou #buckyxreader #smut #buckyxy/n #buckyxyn #bucky x you #bucky x reader #bucky x yn #bucky x y/n #bucky x reader smut #marvel #bucky sex pollen

[slut4thebroken]

Earn Your Prize

── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

Pairing | Reader x choose your own character

(Reader doesnt call him anything and there’s nothing in the writing to indicate that it’s one character or another except maybe the pet names used, so pick whoever you want and enjoy<3 (this is who I was picturing but you can literally choose anyone with a dick lol: Jackson Rippner, Jonathan Crane, Thomas Shelby, Jason Todd, Dick Grayson, Bucky Barnes, etc.))

Summary | Character of your choice wants to try something new.

Warnings | 18+, sexual content, smut, 69 sex position, oral m receiving, praise, humiliation, face fucking, deep throating, throat pie lolll, held down hehe, filthy disgusting nasty oral sex, that’s literally it, no f orgasm, but not in a douchey way lol I just didn’t feel like writing it.

Words | 1.3 k

Notes | Idk man I’m going through a phase, don’t judge me. Also I wrote this in one day lol so I might edit it again later but for now I think I like it skdhdk

Ao3 link | <3

Masterlist

“Let’s play a game, princess. Get up here.” He moved you on top of his body so that your front was flush with his and your face was hovering above his already throbbing cock. “You’re going to stay on my cock, no matter what. Feel free to hold yourself up so it doesn’t go too deep.” He explained and you were confused as to how this was a game, but agreed anyway. “On your knees.” You frowned when you realized that meant he wouldn’t be eating you out. Instead of complaining, you obeyed and bent your legs so you were kneeling with your shoulders resting on his lower stomach. 

“Put it in your mouth and get ready.” You wrapped your lips around the tip and waited for the next instruction. “Hands behind your back.” You obeyed, but the second you weren’t holding yourself up, you were all but impaled on his cock, making him moan loudly. When you tried to move your arms back to hold yourself up, he grabbed them and kept them on your back. 

“Hold yourself up and you won’t choke.” 

No shit. You wanted to say. Instead you did your best to lift your head a little, letting you get in a shaky breath of much needed air. You couldn’t hold the position for long though and you fell back down, gagging when he breached your throat barrier. 

“Atta girl. If you can’t take it, all you have to do is hold yourself up.” You let out a strangled whine and tried to hold yourself up again, but you barely managed to lift off his cock more than an inch, and you didn’t last long either. The strain in your muscles was too much and you whimpered as you fell back down. 

When you started squirming and moving your legs to try and get in a position that would make this easier, he took both of your arms in one hand, then used the other to roughly slap your ass, making you jolt forward and choke when his cock went impossibly deeper in your throat. 

“No cheating.” He said sternly. You could barely hear him over your loud choking and gagging. Tears were quickly welling in your eyes as you remained there. 

You gagged the hardest you had so far and your body all but convulsed as you sputtered around him, making all the saliva that built up in your mouth roll down his balls onto the bed. It was getting on your chin and your nose and you felt completely and utterly filthy, but you couldn’t help the way it made you squirm, this time because of arousal. 

You were fully crying now, but you managed to control the gagging as you tried to take deep breaths through your nose. This is the longest he’s ever had you stay like this and you’re not sure how much more you can take, but you want to be good for him, so you kept trying. 

He used his grip on your arms to pull you up a little, lifting you off his cock barely two inches to let you take in a deep breath and have a break from the constant pressure on your gag reflex. 

“That better?” He asked with mock sympathy, but you hummed in agreement anyway. He suddenly bucked his hips up, making you gag loudly and try to flinch away, but you couldn’t move anywhere. He started fucking your mouth roughly and you weren’t sure what was worse; this or being forced to stay all the way down. 

“God— You’re fucking dripping on my chest.” He said through a groan, making you whine, but the sound cut off into a garbled moan when his cock punched the back of your mouth again. 

“Should I eat your pretty pussy?” You tried to agree, but the words were unintelligible with his cock in your mouth. “Win the game and I’ll let you ride my face— Earn your prize, baby.” He decided and you couldn’t help the loud, strangled moan that escaped you, but you still wondered how you were even supposed to win. Maybe he’s wanting you to stay here until he comes? You hoped it was that because based off of his sounds and the frantic bucking of his hips, you knew he was getting close already. 

He suddenly stopped holding you up and you fell forward onto his cock, choking because you weren’t expecting to be dropped like that. You coughed and sputtered and whimpered, growing even more embarrassed and needy when you saw how much of a mess you were making. He started lazily rutting up into your face, slowly bringing himself to the edge and moaning at your struggling. 

“Such a good girl.” He cooed. “Does your cunt always get this wet when I fuck your face?” His tone was far too sweet for the crudeness of his words. All you could do was let out a garbled sound and squirm a little, wishing he’d stop teasing already. “Fuck I’m close.” He said through a breath. You braced yourself for what was about to happen— trying to remember that after this, you could pull off and cough and pant as much as you needed. 

His motions got more eager, rutting up into you as you choked each time his cock was forced even deeper down your throat. He let out a loud moan and you felt hot come hit the back of your throat. When you gagged and tried to pull away, he wrapped a leg over your head and pushed you down even farther as he shushed you. 

“I know. Doing so good, baby.” He groaned, but you could barely hear it. You were thrashing now, your body panicking at the lack of air and the constant pressure on your gag reflex as his cock twitched inside you. All he did was tighten his grip on your arms and push your head down harder with his leg, forcing you to stay there as he rode out his orgasm. 

He released your arms first and you immediately brought them forward to push yourself up, but your head was still trapped by his leg. You clawed at it, trying to get him to remove it so you could finally breathe again, and after a moment, he slowly lessened the pressure, then placed his leg on the bed. You shot up and coughed almost violently, whining when you saw the large glob of spit connecting your lips to his cock. You tried to spit it out, but it slid down your chin before landing on his cock and sliding down his balls to join the rest of the mess. 

He rubbed soothing circles on your hips while you caught your breath and calmed down. When your breathing finally returned to a somewhat normal intensity, you sat up a little more, waiting for what was next. 

“Clean your mess.” 

“But,” You cut off with a choked moan when he landed a hard slap on your ass. Tentatively leaning down, you licked at it, trying to clean it. Honestly you thought you were only making the mess worse, but you knew that this wasn’t really about you cleaning him. 

“All of it.” You whined, but worked your way down to his balls, lapping up the spit as best you could. “You can do better than that.” He said, sounding almost annoyed, then wrapped his leg around your head again and pushed your face into his cock and balls, covering you in spit. “I said, clean it.” He growled when you didn’t do anything. You stuck your tongue out, but it’s not like you could lick anything with how hard he was holding you down. When he started grinding his hips, rubbing his spit soaked cock on your face, you whined quietly as your whole face heated up from the humiliation. 

“There you go.” He groaned, grinding against you even harder. He only continued for a few more seconds before releasing you and you let out a strangled whimper as soon as your head was free. He shushed you and lightly ran his thumb over your slit. “Such a good girl.” He said quietly, pulling your hips back so you were hovering over his face. 

“Take your prize now, baby.”

#jackson rippner x reader smut #jackson rippner smut #jackson rippner x reader #jackson rippner #jason todd #jason todd x reader #jason todd x reader smut #jason todd smut #jonathan crane x reader #jonathan crane #jonathan crane smut #thomas shelby smut #thomas shelby x reader #thomas shelby #tommy shelby x reader #tommy shelby smut #tommy shelby #bucky barnes smut #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes #dick grayson x reader smut #dick grayson x reader #dick grayson smut #dick grayson

[bigtreefest]

Chapter 1: Digging For Gold

From: You Catch More Bees With Honey Series

Pairing: Mob! Bucky x Farmer! Reader

Summary: Bucky doesn’t always have to personally negotiate his business dealings, but what happens when one of them insists they’ll only deal with him? He heads out to the country to get it sorted, of course.

Word Count: 2,167

Content/Warnings: light mob themes, mentions of misogyny/ Bucky’s attempt at it, fem reader with minimal descriptions, minimal use of y/n, use of a pet name (Honey), Sam and Steve teasing Bucky and Bucky having none of it. Content below the cut.

Author’s Note: Well here it is— my first fic publication! I literally never write, but I’ve felt so motivated to get this down. Idek how I wrote this many words bc lord knows I’m not doing the same for school. Anyway, I digress. I hope you all enjoy. Comments, suggestions, asks, and reblogs are soooo appreciated!! Dividers by @firefly-graphics

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Bucky was used to being turned down at first. In the fact, he was used to being turned down two, three, four times before getting his way. He always got his way, until it came to you. He had been trying to seal this deal for what was going on months now. Usually by his fifth ask, his clients got some sense into them, and in this case, sense means a threat of lead through the heart by a henchman. But that hadn’t phased you at all. If anything, it encouraged you to keep pushing back. A real piece of work, this girl was. Each time someone went to negotiate, they came back with their head hung low, sending in their boss to deal with her next as she had requested. Just for that cocky bastard to leave and come back doing the same. Why were they giving into your requests? They couldn’t help themselves when you had that convincing way about you, and neither could Bucky, even if he wanted to deny it to everyone around him. After months of asking for the next boss, you had finally reached James Buchanan Barnes: the head of his mob. Known for his ruthless nature, no one had ever come out of a deal saying ‘no’ to him. If they said no, they didn’t come out of the deal, simple as that. No one had seen his soft spots, and his buttons weren’t to be pushed. Too many had found out the hard way. The only one who could get away with it was his best friend who had known him since childhood Steve. More like a brother, and his only family left, at that. But it looked like he had a soft spot for you, letting you get away with dismissing these meetings, which is exactly why he needed to go himself: to show he wasn’t soft. To show that he could close the deal and his men lacked discipline when they fell to your kind charm. He’d go to this meeting and then wash his hands of the issue, making the deal he decided he had wanted months ago. He got into the back of his black town car and shut the door, directing the driver to start the long journey to the farm.

As he sat in the car, he wondered why the partition was up, as he heard singing faintly coming from the other side. He pushed the button for it to come down, to be greeted by a familiar pair of blue eyes that belonged to his best friend Steve and the back of Sam’s head.

“Oh heyyy boss. Fancy seeing you here,” Sam said keeping his eyes on the road and turning down the radio.

“Where’s Gio?” Bucky barked back.

“Oh calm down. He’s home relaxing with his family. Sam and I gave him the day off. Figured you’d need our help,” Steve said with a small shrug.

Bucky grumbled to himself something about being the boss while Steve and Sam exchanged a quick glance in the front seat before Sam spoke up again.

“Listen Boss, she’s already been through both of us. Obviously we can’t tell you how to succeed, but we can tell you what to expect going in there.”

“Plus we can remind you what we’re really here for and give you back-up none of us had the luxury of” Steve interjected, “the fact that you’ve waited this long shows you’ve got a soft spot for her, and we can’t afford to push this deal back any farther.”

Bucky knew that. He knew it was coming down to the wire “First off, I do not have a soft spot. Not since I was little, and you know that. I’d have anyone else’s head for even thinking such a thing. And second, if it’s so easy, why couldn’t you two have sealed this deal last month when you went, then? Huh?”

At that, Steve snapped his mouth shut and Sam kept his head forward, not daring to glance back at the mob boss whose jaw was clenched with anticipation.

“That’s what I thought. But go ahead, speak now or forever hold your peace, because when I go in there, I need to come out with a deal.”

He’d never let anyone besides his right-hand and number three men know how on edge he was for this meeting. He looked out the window hoping for the best and that his hard outer persona wouldn’t crack today as Sam and Steve started with their briefing.

When Sam pulled off of the pavement and onto the dirt driveway, Bucky’s eyes absorbed the rolling hills and abundant trees. It was beautiful, but nothing like his city. He enjoyed the tight spaces and routine rigidity of concrete. This was a different world. Her land was sprawling, far further than the crop fields sat. Acres for the cattle to graze and others that laid fallow. It was built over old mines. That’s why he wanted it all: for the tunnels. It would be so much easier to store and move his product, cutting transportation time and having discreet underground facilities if he could just strike a deal, but he’d finally met his match without even meeting her yet. A woman just as stubborn as him, but opposite in every other way.

Sam pulled up in front of a beautiful farm house. Modest, but chic and well cared for. Leaning against one of the posts that framed the front porch was her. Hair hidden under a cowgirl hat, well worn from work-filled days and in a flannel shirt, jeans, and boots showing even more mileage than the hat. Bucky looked out the window and let out a deep breath.

“Wish me luck, boys”

They both just nodded. A more than sufficient acknowledgment in their line of work. Bucky opened the car door and his red bottoms crunched the rocks beneath his feet as he sauntered over to her.

“Ms. Y/L/N. This has been a long time coming.”

“Indeed it has. Good to see you Mr. Barnes. And please, call me Y/N.” Her voice twanged.

Then she flashed him that smile, ugh how he hated that. She wasn’t even trying, but it made him feel an odd warmth that started deep in his chest. One that almost made it seem like it made his heart melt a little. A heart that was stuck in an ice age for as long as he could remember. Still, he couldn’t budge. He had to set an example for his men. How could he push an agenda he couldn’t fulfill? His thoughts continued to race as he stepped up to the bottom of the wooden steps leading to the porch. Not a good start with her literally having the high ground.

“Do your drivers want to come in? I don’t mind gettin’ them some refreshments while we chat.” She offered kindly. How was she so smooth? Bucky glanced back and Steve and Sam gawked at you though Steve’s window. Bucky made a mental note to have that tinted more so no one could see them embarrassing him and themselves in the future.

“No. They’re fine.” Bucky coldly, borderline spat back. “And you can call me by my name, as well, if we’re not doing last names. That’s mostly what I do with those I work closely with”

Bucky wanted to have a firm hand in these business dealings, but he wasn’t a total monster, plus, he knew in most cases, the more comfortable a client was, the more likely they’d give up benefits, sweetening up his own end of the deal. See? He was still working on wrapping you around his finger. He had this down, even if Steve and Sam didn’t think so. At least, that’s what he tried to convince himself as you nodded with a soft smile on your face and led him inside.

Bucky followed you past a living room, flanked by a functional and methodically laid out kitchen. That gave him a better idea of who he was working with: someone who meticulously planned their work environment. Someone who cared for every aspect no matter how small. Everything had a place and made sense. Nothing unnecessary was present and it seemed ergonomic, yet modern and classy, like everything about you. His gaze lingered as long as he could until he had to pull his head forward to continue following you down the hallway to your home office. Once again, practical and functional, with a few papers strewn around a laptop and your other useful desk features. You had everything you needed in arm’s reach, no need to tuck it away in drawers if you were constantly using it and you kept it organized enough that it wasn’t a stressful mess. You gestured for Bucky to take a seat on the couch across from you as you sat in your desk chair and flashed him a smile. Ugh there was that smile again, and this time it got him good and he couldn’t help but dopily smile back, not even aware of what his body was doing.

“James” oh how he hated when you called him that. Sure, it was his formal business name, but the way you said it made him grimace. Yeah, it sounded beautiful from your lips, but its use meant your weren’t close. And that’s all he wanted. Was for you to be close. Up against him, on top of him, engulfing him, drowning him. And he would happily accept that fate. Heck, he was drowning right now in these thoughts about you, but he clawed his way to the surface and shook his head to refocus as you said his name again, noticing his attention had drifted in favor to a blank stare at your lips. He knew with that slip-up, he had to regain control and take charge.

“Listen Honey, you’ve essentially been exterminating every guy I send in here and I don’t like it. All you are is sweet but somehow you’re turning down this deal like a bitter old man would” His sudden stern and almost condescending tone was a huge juxtaposition to the wonderland face you had noticed moments ago. You didn’t like that one bit. Being an independent woman who ran a successful business, you were used to men trying to stomp on you until they had their way. You didn’t stand for it with all of Bucky’s underlings and you weren’t going to stand for it now. You’d regain control and keep your calm demeanor, because you’re that much better than all these other mediocre men in business you dealt with all too often.

“First off, James. Let’s not get into extermination or pesticides. That’s far too complicated of an issue for right now, especially if you don’t understand the simple terms I so graciously asked you for. And if you wanna call something honey, you better be referring to my beehives on the south side of the property. Now, I just want to talk to you so you can see where I’m coming from” you said was a sickeningly sweet smile. He could see it didn’t reach your eyes, still filled with fire and not backing down. But dang if your tone still didn’t match the new nickname he’s given you. Sweet and thick. Bucky for the first time found himself listening to demands from another. He settled down into the couch cushions as you pulled out the contract you’d drafted yourself.

Bucky raised his hands in surrender. “Alright, fine. By all means, let’s get down to business. I wanna see what’s been giving all my men such a hard time that you’ve had to come directly to me.”

Bucky leaned forward to grab the contract from your hands. He flipped through the pages, most of it was identical to what he’d drafted, besides you inflating the numbers. He could handle that, but the last line he saw made his neck muscles go limp as he dropped his head.

“James Barnes will work and stay at the farm for one month’s time, uninterrupted, to learn the gravity, value, and hard work associated with operations.”

He should’ve known, but what was one month? If he was going rn use the mines, he may as well see all the land and livestock that could be affected if things went awry. He’s been doing this job for years, anyway. Maybe he needed the break. He’s sure Steve could control everything else, right? He wouldn’t have waited so long for this deal had he not needed the mine shafts. Your smooth voice broke him out of his thoughts.

“So… what’ll it be, James?”

He looked up at you through his lashes with a smirk you couldn’t quite read as you returned your own smirk, knowing what this meeting meant. Knowing that he wouldn’t have come in person unless he really wanted to make a deal happen.

“Sure Honey, whatever you want”

Next>

#bucky barnes #steve rogers #catch more bees with honey #catch more bees with honey chapter 1 #digging for gold #mob bucky barnes #mob Bucky #mob bucky x reader #mob bucky au #mafia bucky x reader #mafia bucky barnes #mafia! bucky x farmer! reader #mob! Bucky x farmer! reader #sebastian stan #chris evans #Sam Wilson #anthony mackie

[bloodynereid]

Strangers in the Night

pairing: major john 'bucky' egan x fem! reader

tw: ok it's sad, it has a really sad ending sry, mentions of war, alcohol mentions, kissing, historical inaccuracies (probably)

description: love was just a glance away, a warm embracing dance away.

a/n: hi so... i unintentionally wrote this like that one frank sinatra song that it's named after. i swear i literally didn't even think of it until i had to title this thing and yet it fit perfectly. i think my frank sinatra phase i had as a kid had something to do with it but whatever... anyways i think timeline wise this is before bucky's first mission and during the first few days he's in the uk. i hope you enjoy and lmk your thoughts!

Running a hand down your face you take a deep breath and relax into the pub’s atmosphere. The bustling of the crowd, a mix of men in uniforms and beautiful women, captivated your tired eyes. 

You were seated in the dark corner of the pub, exhausted by the constant workload war pushed your way. The sharp sting of whiskey in your mouth was a reminder that you were human and that you were still alive, at least for now.

The pub had become a place of escape, even if it was only for a few hours. You almost never left with anyone, preferring to people watch and take slow sips of expensive whiskey. 

“Now what do we have here? A beautiful lady without a partner is a true tragedy.” 

A shadow fell over the booth you were seated in. You looked up to find a set of stormy eyes staring down at you, there was a certain mischievous twinkle in them that seemed to captivate you. So instead of huffing and pushing the man away like you would usually, your mouth involuntarily twitched into a smile.

“Are you my prince charming who sweeps me off my feet and steals me away?”

“Only if the lady insists.” 

You laugh at his remark and offer your hand for him to shake, giving the curly haired man your name in the process. But instead of shaking your hand like you had intended, he took it carefully and placed a fleeting kiss on your knuckles.

“Major John Egan, but you can call me Bucky, sweetheart.” Bucky took a seat next to you in the booth and placed his own glass tumbler filled with whiskey on the table.

“Well at least I know you have good taste, Major.” You said with a teasing lilt in your voice when you noticed the liquor.

“Oh I have the best taste in the entire air force, sweetheart, and don’t you deny it.” Bucky said as leaned closer to you and grinned. The smile sent a bout of butterflies through your body. 

“Now tell me, what exactly are you doing here all alone?”

“A lady can’t just enjoy a strong whiskey after a long day?”

“No fault in that, darling. I’m just astounded that no one has come to ask you to dance quite yet.”

“Well…” You crooked your finger forward, urging Bucky into your space, as if you were about to tell him a big secret. “Maybe I just haven’t found the right partner yet.”

Bucky smiled right back at you and brushed his knuckles against your cheek. Leaning forward so your noses were almost brushing he said:

“You’re looking at him right now, darling.”

“Oh really?” You whispered back. He hums back in assent before abruptly pulling away, taking a deep swig of his whiskey and offering his hand to you.

“Shall we?”

“I would be delighted, good sir.” You said in a ridiculous accent that had you both laughing as you slipped your hand into his and Bucky quickly pulled you up and into his arms.

The soft jazz music surrounded you, the air was tense with an unknown crackling electricity. Bucky’s warm hands held you close and you let yourself just feel. It was as if the world fell away and you were the last ones standing.

“How long are you stationed here, Major?” You asked tentatively, almost afraid to break the energy between you.

“I’m going to be here a long while, darling.”

“We might see each other again then.”

“You bet we will.” Bucky said as he placed a quick, fleeting kiss on your forehead. A warmth spread through your body which made you feel like you were floating.

“Good.”

“Good.” He echoed back to you and smiled widely at you. His hands left your body and you both stopped swaying to the music. Bucky brought his thumb up and brushed away an eyelash from your face.

“Make a wish?” You laugh and close your eyes, wishing that this beautiful man would finally just kiss you. 

“What did you wish for?” He asked once you blew away the eyelash from his thumb.

“Can’t say or it won’t happen.” You teased, making Bucky look at you in admiration. He carefully brought his hand back to your face, cradling it as if it were a work of priceless art. His eyes quickly moved from your eyes to your lips, a movement almost too quick for you to catch.

“Can I kiss you?” He breathed out. You nodded almost imperceptibly, making Bucky surge forward and press his lips to yours. Your eyes fluttered close and you let the world fall away from you once more so all you could feel was him.

The night ended with Bucky walking you back to the place you were staying and kissing you once again with a passion and adoration you had never experienced before. You would have invited him in if it wasn’t for the load of work that awaited you in the early hours of the next morning.

What neither of you realized was that your superiors would transfer you to Scotland the next day. You didn’t even have the time to send a telegram to the base before you were swept away.

Bucky spent his nights in that same little corner of the pub waiting for you to show up, never once catching a glimpse of you again. Almost as if you had been a ghost. Even after Buck arrived and he was surrounded by friends, Bucky never forgot about that beautiful girl from that first night. Her glinting eyes that looked like stars that fell from the heavens, and the gorgeous smile which had entranced him so.

After the war, Bucky left for America and you were both left only with ‘what ifs’ and memories of sweet kisses laced with whiskey. 

#masters of the air #john egan #john bucky egan #john egan x reader #john bucky egan x reader #mota #mota fanfic #mota spoilers #buck cleven #gale cleven #harry crosby #bucky egan #masters of the air fic #masters of the air x reader #maria writes

[thevillainswhore]

Hiii! How are you, sweetie? I must say I love your work! Especially the New Tricks series 👀❤️ Do you mind writing something for me?….i-I mean it’s just a request but if it doesn’t attract you, it’s fine too!

I had a One Shot in thought. So Bucky and Fem have been dating for a few weeks and they’re still, always will be in the honeymoon phase. He only gets shy around her and melts at nicknames such as puppy, love and honey etc. They’ve been going slow around kisses and hugs and more..but what if he makes the first move?…

is that an idea?..

Thank you sweets for listening 🧡. love, Reader 🧸

Hi my love!!

First of all, I wanted to thank you for the love and your kind words. It really does warm my heart that you enjoy my work 🥹

As for the oneshot, I wrote a little something for you with a slight tweak. I didn’t want to create a piece so similar to what I had already written but I did want to write a little something. I hope you enjoy it nonetheless 🥰

Okay, so we’ve seen small snippets of Puppy’s confidence shine through his shy demeanor. So what if we flipped the concept around and imagined Buttercup was actually the virgin this time?

Bucky would be the most gentle and yet cockiest son of a bitch ever. Can you imagine the pride he would feel knowing he gets to be the one who gets the entirety of you? To be the one who steals the most precious part of you?

I think he would slowly ease you into taking your virginity though. Take you out on dates and work you up to the main event.

The first move for example… your first kiss.

“C’mere, Bee. I don’t bite.” He pats his thigh at the same time he winks at you.

Let’s say it’s been a couple of weeks of dating at this point, you're comfortable enough around him to be used to his teasing comments.

So you hesitantly shuffle over the sofa, full of jitters. But Bucky notices your slight nerves and holds his palm out to help you climb over his lap and settle over his crotch. “There we go, baby girl. Doin’ so well for me already.”

The fucker knows exactly the reaction his praise elicits. Bucky would be the type to observe each minute expression and store it away for later. Which is why he smirks sadistically when you duck your head and whine, “Stop that.”

But instead, he places two fingers under your chin, gently lifting your head to look him in his eyes. “Don’t act like you don’t like it, Bubs.” The subtle clench of your thighs around his don’t escape him. His eyes light up in excitement as he slides his hand over your exposed waist.

“N—No, I— I just—”

“Shh, baby,” Bucky coos, squeezing your waist while he bites his lip. “You don’t fool me.”

And he’s right — much to your dismay. He knows exactly what he does to you and you don’t really help yourself as you let go of a needy whimper.

“Aw, what’s wrong, Bee? Huh?” His slightly condescending tone only intensifies the ache between your thighs. “You need something from me?”

The air in the room is thick with tension, small touches and kisses to the cheek wouldn’t cut it anymore and if you had to beg Bucky to kiss you, that’s what you would do.

Only, that’s exactly what he wants.

“Ask me — Go on, sweetheart. Use your big girl words.”

“Bucky—”

“As much as I love hearing you moan my name, I don’t hear a question.”

Taking a deep breath, you gather all your courage. “Please,” you whimper. “Please, c-can you..” the anxiety in your stomach stops you from finishing.

“Almost there, Bee,” Bucky encourages, swiping his tongue over his lips while eyeing your own, an animalistic hunger to finally have you clawing its way through his dwindling composure. “Be a good girl and tell me what you need.”

And so, closing your eyes and swallowing the lump in your throat, you finally utter, “Can you kiss me?”

Your pussy flutters, a sudden wetness soaking your panties as Bucky growls, slinking his hand round the back of your neck to thrust you forward at lightning speed. “Thought you’d never fuckin’ ask.”

#bucky barnes x reader #new tricks Drabble #sweet anon🥰 #fun anon asks #new tricks #new tricks masterlist #bucky barnes smut

[restinslices]

I found your twilight post with the Lin Kuei brothers amusing and relatable 🤣

Can you do headcannons on watching marvel movies with the reader? Captain America is my favorite character in the movies lol

The MCU is huge so lmk if there was something specific you wanted to know about

Bi-Han

I don’t see any of them watching a lot of movies so you definitely introduced it to him 

He takes the longest time to finish the movies because it’s not on the top of his list when it comes to concerns 

He’s one of those overly critical watchers so he’s annoying as fuck to watch movies with 

I can see him liking Ultron

Why? I think he’d like the concept of Ultron and understand why he’s thinking the way he is 

The type to agree with Thanos until someone points out he could’ve just doubled the resources 

His favorite Phase is Phase 3 purely because Hela is his favorite character in the entire MCU 

He’s legit upset she was killed off 

I’d say which show is his favorite but I only watched Wandavision and TFATWS so moving on-

I don’t know if I see him reading the comics. Maybe if he’s curious enough 

The Avengers and The Guardians of The Galaxy are pinned against each other a lot, but what does he think?

I think it changes a lot. Depends on his mood

One thing’s for sure; he prefers the OG Avengers 

Not one of those Marvel fans that remembers everything and he doesn’t really stay up to date

Hasn’t even watched any of the shows yet 

Please bring Hela back and stop pissing him off. She ain’t do nothing wrong 

Quick afterthought 

He’s Team Cap

He don’t even wanna listen to Liu Kang. Why the fuck would he agree with the government controlling The Avengers?

Kuai Liang

NOT one of the overly critical watchers so thank fuck 

If he spots something that’s off, he’ll call it out but that’s as bad as it gets 

He likes a mix of villains and heroes

If the villains got a point, then they got a point. That’s just how it is.

He likes villains that can become better people. The pure evils ones he’s like “yeah you suck” but villains that are actually victims or who have done certain things but try to become better, he likes 

Because of that I’d say his favorite villain is The Winter Soldier 

He’s done terrible things but Kuai Liang feels pity for him and enjoys his story 

I think either Avengers or Civil War is his favorite movie 

He prefers the og era of the MCU and I think the Avengers as a whole reminds him of his family (petty as fuck towards each other but there’s ultimately love there) and Civil War was a banger

A situation where there’s technically not a right side is a topic I can see him liking 

With that being said, he is both Team Cap and Team Ironman 

Since he follows Liu Kang I can see him being like “sometimes teams need to be reined in and need someone to follow”

But in the same breath this is the same government that is corrupt and has proven themselves as not trustworthy 

And people could always die before the heroes are able to help

Then there’s Bucky and he once again understands why Steve wouldn’t tell but he also understands Tony’s anger 

He stays somewhat up to date when it comes to the new movies and shows 

He knows when they come out but he doesn’t see them right away 

Tomas

I can see him staying up to date and seeing the movies whenever he could 

Has possibly read some comics too?

Prefers Heroes 

Do I wanna say his favorite character is Spider-Man because the PS5 Spider-Man voices Tomas?

Yes

So that’s what imma do

Does he have a favorite Spider-Man?

I’m not sure. I can see him seeing the positives and negatives of all the Spidermen 

Team Cap for the accords 

Team Ironman for the Bucky situation 

His parents were killed so are we surprised? No

The type to see the positives of Phase 4 instead of just saying it’s shit 

Is it the best? No. But it’s not all ass. Damn.

He prefers the Guardians so when Gamora was killed, his heart was in SHAMBLES 

“Maybe Gamora and Peter can fall in love again”

I have bad news 

Favorite Phase is always changing. Each Phase has bangers and non bangers so it changes day to day 

I know I said he loved all the Spidermen but his favorite movie is probably a Tobey Maguire Spider-Man movie 

Do not tell him the Avengers are more like coworkers than family. Do not fuck up his day 

He likes found family movies so he enjoys the movies that focus on the groups 

#mk1 #mk1 2023 #mortal kombat 1 #bi han sub zero #bi han #kuai liang scorpion #kuai liang #tomas vrbada smoke #kuai liang mk1 #kuai liang headcanons #bi han headcanons #tomas vrbada headcanons #kuai liang x reader #bi han x reader #tomas vrbada x reader #tomas vrbada #mk1 headcanons

[itsplumwriter]

Baking for Bucky

POV: While browsing a small collector’s shop, Bucky finds a vintage WWII magazine from the 40s. He flips through the pages and spots a dessert recipe, asking if you could make it for him.

A/N: Just some fluffsss. I haven't written a fluffy piece in a while so I really hope you'll like this. I love baking, do y'all? It's such a comfort activity and I think it'd be so cute to bake for Bucky.

--- --- ---

“What are we making again?” you ask, pulling out the flour and sugar.

“Gingerbread. It’s a classic from the 40s,” Bucky says, flipping through the old-timey magazine. “Housewives used to pack it in their husband’s box lunches back in the day.”

You raise an eyebrow. “Housewife? I am a housewife now?”

He lowers the magazine, glancing at you. “You can be..."

You nearly trip trying to get the bowl. “Slow your roll, soldier...”

He chuckles as he helps you pull out the rest of the ingredients. You love him, obviously, and you could definitely see yourself marrying him. But you’re both enjoying the dating phase and there’s no need to rush things.

You add the ingredients to the bowl and stir it's contents carefully, noticing a concerned look on Bucky's face. "What's going on in that head of yours?"

Bucky smiles, enjoying the fact you know him so well. "The smell is just bringing me back... Usually sights, sounds, and smells bring me back to bad memories from my past, so it's kinda nice to have a smell trigger a good memory for once."

You smile and nod, hoping he'll say more; Bucky rarely opens up. When he does, you find it best to just keep quiet and let it flow naturally.

"I kinda miss the old days, you know?..." he continues. "Sometimes I hate that I was frozen for so long. That so many years were taken from me. Sometimes I wish I could have lived in the era I was supposed to.”

“I can understand that,” you say, nodding.

He approaches you, hugging you. “But the thing is if I hadn’t been frozen... I never would’ve met you."

He buries his head in the crook of your neck. "And that sorta makes it all worth it."

“Bucky,” you sigh. His words are sweet, but they make you upset. "I don't want you to say anything was worth what you went through..."

Bucky takes your hand, kissing your palm. “I mean it. And I meant it when I said I want you to be my wife...”

You smile. "Let's see how this gingerbread turns out first. You may change your mind..."

Bucky chuckles, rolling his eyes.

--- --- ---

The entire house is filled with the smell of gingerbread. A warm feeling enrobes the air, reminding you of Christmastime. You both curl up on the couch, eating a few slices with milk.

"You're clearly wifey material," Bucky chimes.

You raise an eyebrow. "Where did you hear that term..."

Bucky stares at you. "Sam."

You chuckle, shaking your head.

"No, but seriously... This has got to be one of the best desserts I've ever had."

You roll your eyes. "...Don't exaggerate, Bucky."

“I'm not! It's the loveliest thing I've ever tasted because the loveliest person made it for me."

You fiddle with a few gingerbread crumbs on your plate, blushing.

Bucky smiles to himself. "I remember one of my buddies used to have these all the time in his box lunch. He’d brag all the time to us that his wife made it for him... I can’t believe I had to wait nearly 90 years for my wife to make me some...”

You clench your jaw. “But I'm not your wife, Buckyy... I love you and I can see myself spending the rest of my life with you. But I don't think I'm ready just yet."

He gives you a soft smile. “No rush, doll... I believe I waited my whole life to meet you... It'd be an honor for me to wait a little longer..."

--- --- ---

AAAHHHH the flufffffff <33 love you all so much!! Did you like??

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God bless <3

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes imagines #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes oneshot #bucky barnes one shot #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes fanfic #bucky barnes fic #bucky barnes fluff #bucky #bucky imagine #bucky imagines #bucky one shot #bucky oneshot #marvel #marvel x reader #marvel x you #marvel imagines #marvel imagine #marvel fluff #marvel fan fiction #marvel fanfic #marvel fic #sebastian stan #sebastian stan imagine #sebastian stan imagines

[endless-summer-soldier]

cruel to be kind - chapter three

pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader (90s college AU)

summary: it started with a dare. Bucky restlessly pursues Y/N, seeking just one date. as he chases her, he realizes she's different from she challenges him, so he starts to catch feelings. but it all falls apart when she learns about his initial motivations. based on 10 things I hate about you!

warnings: alcohol use, cursing

word count: 1k

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Y/N woke up and let out a long groan. Her head was pounding and blurred visions from the night before slowly entered her brain. Then suddenly she realized she was parched. Water. She needed water. She crawled out of bed and stumbled into the kitchen. Her water bottle was about halfway full when her roommate, Carol, entered the room, back from a morning run.

“Well you look like shit,” she said.

“Feel like shit,” Y/N added.

“What exactly did you get up to last night?” Carol stretched in the living room as Y/N chugged down her water.

“Went out with some asshole. It was a mistake.”

“Oh come on, he couldn’t have been that bad. He got you home.”

“He got me drunk, I made a fool of myself, and then he rejected me.”

“Oh you left out the part about maybe having a concussion.”

“Ugh…don’t remind me about that.” She drank more water and then the realization hit her “Wait, how…?”

Carol smirked, “The ‘asshole’ left this under my door,” she held up a small handwritten note, “Wanted me to keep an eye on you and make sure you were okay.”

Y/N had no response to that. She enjoyed her disdain for Bucky. She didn’t need to go around catching feelings just because he did something sweet. Y/N grumbled and retreated to her room as Carol watched her with a knowing look.

Bucky woke up the next morning and his first thought was about Y/N. He hated to admit it, but he was worried about her. And he knew he had his work cut out for him since he had bruised her ego the night before.

So he put himself together and headed to her apartment. He stopped to pick up a couple coffees, hoping to bribe her into liking him again.

He softly knocked in rhythm on her door and heard shuffling from the other side. He could almost sense her looking through the peephole eyeing him up.

“Go away,” she said firmly.

“I brought coffee,” he retorted.

“Oh, well in that case, leave the coffee and go away.”

“Come on Y/N…”

“I made myself perfectly clear. Leave.”

“I just want to make sure you’re okay.”

“Why do you care?”

He sighed and let out a chuckle, “Because I like you!”

There was a long pause before she said, “Well, I don’t like you.”

“That’s the best you could come up with? Damn, you must be really hung over.”

“I’m walking away from the door now,” she said.

He chuckled at her stubbornness, but respected her commitment. He scrawled a quick note on the coffee cup that read Call me once you’re feeling better with his phone number.

He sauntered off, knowing it wouldn’t be that easy. He started considering his next few moves.

He wasn’t surprised that he hadn’t heard from her in a few days. In fact, he anticipated that. So he moved on to phase two.

He approached her front door and knocked, this time hiding from view of the peephole. He heard the lock switching and knew he was in. As soon as the door was open he barged in, taking Y/N by surprise.

Before she could say anything he started unloading the stocked grocery bag. 

“I have everything you could possibly need. Gatorade, ginger ale, homemade chicken noodle soup, saltines, lemon ginger tea…” He pulled out each of the items as they were announced and placed them on her kitchen counter.

“Bucky…what the fuck?”

He looked at her with raised eyebrows encouraging her to continue.

“What are you doing?” she asked.

“Well you never called me. So you must still be very sick and I thought ‘Hm, if I were really sick, I’d want someone to come over and take care of me.’ So here I am with all the best remedies.”

She was so close to smiling but she kept her composure and responded. “I’m not sick you asshole. I just didn’t want to talk to you.”

“Now that cannot possibly be true. We had such a lovely time together on our date.”

“It wasn’t a date.”

“Whatever you say sweetheart. Just remember I was the perfect gentleman. I picked you up, I walked you home, and I didn’t take advantage of you in your vulnerable state.” He hoped the last part of his statement would help her understand why he declined her advances that night.

“What a shame, I don’t remember any of it.”

“I guess you’ll just have to take my word for it then. Oh, did I mention that you agreed to go out with me again?”

“Liar,” she joked.

“Can’t blame me for trying.”

She shook her head, “You can leave now.”

“If you insist,” he said. He didn’t move, hoping she would reconsider.

“I do,” she opened the front door wide and signaled for him to make his way through it.

“I have to say Y/N, you are really good at this whole hard to get thing.” He made his way through the door and turned to face her, shooting her his winning smile.

“Bye,” she said as she shut the door in his face.

“I’ll see you later!” he shouted through the door.

Bucky continued to pursue Y/N for the days that followed. He tried out a few different tactics but most of them involved buying her coffee or walking her to class. Her defenses came down a bit, but she still declined any date suggestions Bucky threw out there.

“What’s your endgame here?” she asked him at one point.

“What do you mean?”

“Why are you doing all this?”

“Because I have never met a girl as interesting as you. And I want to spend time with you and get to know you better.”

She rolled her eyes, “I bet you tell all the girls that.”

“Not a chance.”

“Hate to break it to you but sweet talk doesn’t work on me.”

That was the moment he realized he needed to step things up so he began planning. His friends were constantly telling him to give up, that the dare wasn’t worth all this effort. But it wasn’t about that anymore. Bucky had never struggled when it came to women. Usually his tough exterior and ocean blue eyes were enough to do the trick. Y/N was so different from any other girl and the challenge was a great motivator. He wanted to know what made her tick.

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes fanfic #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes #bucky x reader #90s au #college au

[alwaysquestioneverything]

Questions about fanfiction that I need everyone else's opinion on, apparently (part 1)

An epithet is a descriptive term/phrase accompanying or used in place of a person/place/thing's name or pronouns, e.g. the blonde or the older man.

Note: In the poll above, I'm not referring to any of these types of epithets or other uses of the word:

An descriptor accompanying a name, e.g. Howard the Duck

Where surnames do not exist/are not being used, using adjectives to differentiate between people with the same name, e.g. Peter the Celestial-Human hybrid vs. Peter the spiderling.

A descriptor that is a title or alter-ego, e.g. The Mad Titan or The Hulk.

Using an epithet to refer to a character before the POV character knows their name, e.g. if Sam Wilson were to refer to Steve Rogers as The Annoying Guy Who's Running Impossibly Fast and/or Mister Speedy before he realizes who Steve is.

Situations where the word is used in its alternative meaning, to describe an abusive, derogatory, or defamatory word or phrase.

I'm asking only about the types of epithets that are often found in fanfics, and in slash fics in particular, to refer to a character instead of using their name or pronouns.

For example: "The first time Bucky began this phase, Steve didn’t know what to do, how to help the other man. Bucky’s therapist gave Steve a list of things he could do to help the blue-eyed man to ground himself in reality, but the one and only time the blond tried..."

Or: "The supersoldier stopped mid-word and stared at Bucky. The older man did some quick thinking then said..."

(because I didn't want to use any other published fics as an example, the above two examples are taken from two of my own published fics, and names or pronouns were replaced with epithets) (if you're not a Marvel or MCU fan, my apologies for using all MCU characters for the examples)

I personally don't like epithets for multiple reasons.

If you specifically do or don't like epithets, I'd love to hear why!

Please reblog for greater reach and more opinions!

Part 2

#fanfiction #fanfics #ao3 fanfic #ao3 fanfics #ao3 fanfiction #fanfic readers #poll #polls #tumblr polls #my polls #alwaysquestioneverything questioning something #reblog for a larger sample size

[sunshine-on-my-mind]

That wasn’t my plan

Pairing: Pietro Maximoff x Stark!Reader

(reader is tony stark’s adopted daughter)

words: 4.8k

————

warnings: 18+ (Minors DNI), Violence (getting hit by a bullet), Mentions of Hulk Attack. Angst, Fluff, Making out (no actual smut/graphic details) Kissing, Crying, Blood. This mostly very very angsty with some fluffy moments

————

a/n: Hi!! So this is the first time I wrote for Pietro, but this idea just came into my mind and I had to work on it. some things might not make logical sense but please go with it 👀 I really wanted to focus on how the loss of their parents affected the Maximoffs and how they wanted justice against the wrongs. Also I’m very upset we just got to see so little of Pietro because we deserved MORE!! Anyway, I’m in my Pietro phase now (and Bucky) so expect more stories with them. This might be not very good but I really got emotionally invested in the story. Hope you all like it.COMMENTS AND REBLOGS ARE APPRECIATED.

————

taglist for this fic: @tangerinesgf @swiftly-heart

————

The Maximoff Twins lost everything, even most of their own identity. After being experimented on by Strucker, they fought for their freedom and succeeded. Now they had only one mission, to get justice against the Avengers, especially Tony Stark.

It would not be easy, they knew that. Even with Wanda’s mind controlling powers, getting close to the Avengers won’t be that easy. But what if they could reach someone very close to the team, especially close to Tony Stark.

They did their research and that’s how they came to know about you, Stark’s adopted daughter. You were always very close to your father, sure he was a complicated man but he always made you his priority.

The New York Attack had left a huge impact on your father, his team and even you. The world had changed. Tony was always over protective of you, and after the attack he preferred to have every little update about you, regarding your safety.

The twins had divided their different targets, and you were Pietro’s. Wanda felt she could use her powers on you but Pietro felt you are not that important and she didn’t need to get involved, she could take care of bigger targets, maybe Banner. And you? Pietro was more than enough for you.

The Maximoff twins knew you were adopted so technically it wasn’t your fault that Tony Stark was so horrible, but you lived a life of luxury, all because of Tony and his money, so yes, you were somewhat at fault, and it wouldn’t even matter in the long run any way.

That is what Pietro reminded himself when he spotted you in your favourite coffee shop. You didn’t have a lot in your everyday schedule so it wasn’t very difficult to track you. Plus he was fast.

You ordered your favourite drink and were about to come out of the coffee shop when felt like you were pushed but you couldn’t really see anyone, you were about to fall down when a stranger caught you.

“Are you alright, miss?“ He had an Eastern European accent, silver blonde hair, and such pretty eyes. Oh you shouldn’t stare at a stranger but how could you not?

“Yeah, yeah I’m okay thank you.” You stood up properly but your drink was spilled. A frown came across your face.

“Can I buy you another?” The man offered.

“Oh no, please. It wasn’t your fault. Just not a good day I guess.”

“Well then how about I make it better? Let me buy you another, I insist.” You probably shouldn’t have accepted. But you did.

Pietro charmed you off your feet, literally. The two of you sat down in the coffee shop and started talking.

“Your accent it’s-“

“It’s Russian” Pietro clarified. You smiled. For such a horrible person’s daughter, you looked quite sweet. Maybe because you were adopted. Still, Pietro thought living the luxurious life you have, you would be some snob. You were sweet.

“Thank you again, you really didn’t have to buy me another drink but I appreciate it.”

“Of course, hope I could make your day better. Wouldn’t be fair if a sweet girl like you doesn’t get to enjoy her day.” Your cheeks heated up and you looked down to hide your flustered expressions. It would be easier than Pietro thought to win your trust.

If they couldn’t attack Tony from the front, they would break him and his team from the inside. It was very simple, Pietro would create problems for you and your dad, and hit Tony hard on his sensitive spot. Stark should get a taste of his own medicine right? See how it feels to lose everything?

“I didn’t get your name by the way, I’m Pietro.” Maybe giving out his name was risky, but nobody knew much about them. After they escaped Strucker’s lab, the twins made sure to erase all data from their files.

You gave Pietro your first name. Somehow your last name often changed people’s perception about you, when the connected the dots about who you actually were.

And when Pietro asked for your number, you hesitated but something in you told him to trust him, and you did.

Pietro texted you. Just a hi at first, but soon it developed in a full conversation. You learnt that he was new in the city, he came from Russia and was currently looking for a job. You thought about suggesting Stark industries but no it was too soon. So you just wished him luck.

He didn’t waste much time to ask you out on a date. He was fast, you thought. You didn’t know what to do, the logical part of you was hesitant, you barely knew him, but then again, that’s what dates are for right? to get to know people, that’s what your heart told you. So you went with that.

“Where are you going?” Your father’s voice pulled you from your thoughts. You lived alone in your own apartment but he visited from time to time to check in, and he couldn’t have had a worse timing.

“Just going out, probably will go to a book shop, get some coffee.”

“Alone?”

“Yes Dad!” You didn’t like lying to your father but, if he got to know about Pietro he would ask too many questions, you wanted to keep things simple. Besides the date might not even be good, so why involve your father in such an early stage?

“Alright, take a car.”

“No I wanna walk.”

“Sweetheart…” He used his fatherly voice.

“Dad…” You mimicked his tone.

“Ugh, fine but be careful okay? and call me-“

“I know I know. Alright then, see you later.” You gave him a hug and went out.

You both met at Central Park, it was a beautiful sunny day.

“You look beautiful.” You smiled.

“Thank you, so do you.”

“I’m so happy you said yes to the date.”

The two of you walked around the park. You asked him about his life in Russia, and he seemed sad.

“Well my parents they- they passed away, and I felt like my life there made no sense any more, so I decided to come here.”

“Oh I’m so sorry to hear about that.” Must have been really hard on him. Pietro looked at you with an expression you couldn’t exactly read.

“Well, that’s why my focus is to now get a job and do something good.”

“That’s great. I’m sure it will all work out.” You smiled. You had such a genuine smile, Pietro thought to himself. You told him about your father and who he was. Pietro maintained a neutral expression at his mention.

The rest of the date went pretty well, you got some food and then walked more, you sat down on a bench to watch the sunset.

“There’s something about you, I can’t help but admire you.” Pietro told you. “From the first moment we met, I haven’t been able to stop thinking about you.” You felt all warm and flustered listening to his words. “Maybe coming to New York was meant to be, just like meeting you was.”

He gently took your hands in his.

“I had a great time, hope you did too?” Pietro asked.

“I did. It was really good.”

“Would you like to do it some time again?”

“I’d love to.”

After the date, all smiley and giddy you went back home. There was a missed call from your father but you opted to text him back a reply, he might understand the excitement in your voice so it was better to avoid it.

The next few days, you both kept texting about this and that. Few days later he mentioned about getting a job interview.

You: That’s great, good luck

Pietro: Thank you, beautiful ❤️

The heart emoji made your heart flutter a bit.

You really hoped it worked out for Pietro. Later that day, you got another text from him.

Pietro: So, I don’t think I’m going to get this job. The interview didn’t go well

You: I’m sorry Pietro, I’m sure something will turn up soon.

He doesn’t reply, so you text him again.

You: I was thinking, would you like to meet? We can get ice cream?

Pietro: I’d really like that.

You both meet up to get some ice cream, you give him a treat to cheer him up. Mentioning Stark Industries was something you were still hesitant about, but you didn’t like seeing Pietro sad.

“You can try for Stark industries, I can talk to my dad-“

“I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

“But-“

“I appreciate it, but I still have some other interviews lined up. Let’s see what happens.”

You took his hand in yours. Maybe this was a slow plan but it was already working. Pietro could feel it. He tried to ignore how soft your hands felt.

Later he walked you back to your apartment. You thanked him, but before you could go in, Pietro held your waist softly and kissed you.

It had to be done, Pietro told himself, to make sure you got attached to him.

“I um- I’ll see you later then?” You asked him, still giddy about the kiss. “Good luck with your interviews.” You smiled so sweetly at him. “I- I don’t know if this is the right time to say it but, I really like spending time with you. And.. I really like you”

“The feeling is mutual, дорогой” Pietro didn’t realise the nick name would sleep up so easily from his mouth.

“What does that mean?”

“It means- darling” Pietro admitted with a slight blush.

You gave him a quick kiss on the cheek before going inside.

The plan is working. The plan is working. Pietro kept repeating it to himself.

“What happened?” Wanda asked immediately when Pietro returned.

“It’s all going accordingly.” Pietro avoided eye contact, not that it mattered with Wanda, she could see through him.

“You kissed her?”

“Don’t read my thoughts. And yes I did, it had to be done. Now I know she is totally attached to me. She even mentioned Stark Industries today, I think soon I can get to turn on her father if needed.”

“I hope you’re not the one getting attached” Wanda remarked. Pietro scoffed.

“I may not be as talented as you sister but I know what I’m doing, I’ll hurt Stark where it hurts. His precious daughter is now wrapped around my finger.”

Wanda decided to not engage on the topic and let Pietro do his work.

Your father called you up to meet him. You were nervous, you had been avoiding talking to him for a few weeks, just texting.

“What is going on with you?” Tony asked. You tried to be oblivious.

“What do you mean?”

“You’ve been avoiding me.”

“I’m not. I was just busy.”

“With what? or with whom should I say?”

“Wha-“

“Look, just be careful, how many times-“

“Hold on a second, are tracking me or something?”

“No I haven’t… yet”

“Are you serious right now? Dad I can take care of myself. I’m not answerable to you for every little thing am I.”

“Look, I don’t want to fight, I trust you, I just don’t trust the world. You’re too nice, for your own good.”

“I’m done with this conversation. See you later, father.”

Tony sighed. You were clearly hiding something, avoiding his questions, you didn’t usually get angry with him.

You were upset, to think Tony literally said he might track your movements if needed. You realised he is concerned about your safety but what about your private life? And to think you actually considered telling him about Pietro. But no, you won’t let you father’s opinions decide how to feel about Pietro, so you decided you weren’t gonna say anything about that.

You: Can you come to my apartment? I- I’m not feeling good.

Pietro: What’s wrong?

You: I don’t want to talk about it via text, Could you please come? Unless you’re busy… I get it.

Pietro: I’m not busy, I’ll come soon.❤️

When Pietro arrived you hugged him. You didn’t know why but his presence always calmed you so much, made you feel everything is gonna be okay. You didn’t even know him that well but you trusted him.

“You want to talk about it now?”

“It’s about my father.” Wheels started turning in his head, this was his chance.

You both sat down on the sofa. Pietro held your hand.

“He- he is always trying to control my life. I know when I say it like that it seems he is a controlling person, I know he is not, he just wants me to be safe. But I can make my own decisions right?”

“Of course you can дорогой”

“I don’t like fighting with him but-“

“I understand.”

“Why are you so nice to me Pietro?” The question took him aback for a second, did you doubt him? No no you didn’t, you were just too nice.

“Because you deserve it, you are so nice so sweet. And because I really like you.” You smile back but Pietro’s expression changed slightly.

“But now- hearing about your father, I’m afraid he might not approve of us being together. You know I’m not rich or anything.”

“That doesn’t matter to me.”

“Well I’m sure it will matter to him. He wants the best for you-“

“I just want you.” You told him earnestly. “And if my dad can’t understand that, then…”

“Then?” Pietro almost had you.

“I- I don’t want to think about that now.. please.”

“It’s okay. I’m really happy to here you care about me so much.”

“I do, and I want you to be happy. I see how much you’re struggling with your current situation. Plus I can’t even imagine what you went through after losing your family.” You hugged Pietro tightly. No- no this wasn’t supposed to happen.

“I’m really so sorry. You are so nice Pietro, I’m sorry life is being unfair to you. I don’t know if it means much but I’m here for you, I promise. You always make me smile and I want to do the same.”

It felt like Pietro’s body was working on its own. You felt so warm. He wrapped his arms around you, pulling you closer. In that moment, he forgot about his rage and the need for revenge, he just let himself feel the loss, and how much it truly affected him.

“I just, I want them to be proud of me, you know?“ Pietro murmured against your neck and you softly pulled away, touching his face softly with your hand.

“Of course they are proud of you Pietro, you’re working so hard to get a better life. I know they are proud of you. And so am I.”

Next what happened wasn’t something you were expecting, Pietro pulled closer with one swift motion, capturing your lips and practically taking your breath away. Things got heated pretty quickly. You both ended up on your bed. No words were exchanged, only looks.

Pietro kissed your neck, as if learning your body. You softly tugged his hair. Pietro simply couldn’t stop himself. He became addicted to your touch, and how you felt against him.

Before things could go any further your phone started buzzing with notifications. And Pietro’s phone rang up as well. It brought him back to reality.

“Um- I should get that.” It was Wanda, he excused himself. You nodded and decided to check your phone. You had received several messages from the Avengers, you quickly opened Clint’s text, which was latest.

Clint: Get to the tower ASAP. There has been a Hulk attack. It’s out of control. Tony and Nat are at the scene. It’s a messy situation. Get here now.

How could it happen? Bruce was much bette at controlling his rage now. You went out to look for Pietro.

On the other hand, Pietro heard from Wanda that she had succeeded to reach Banner.

“The world will now see who the Avengers truly are, as they destroy everything.” Wanda told him over the phone. Too much was going on in Pietro’s mind. He could imagine the destruction, and somehow his rage was subdued by his other emotional instincts.

“Wanda- did we do the right thing?”

“What do you mean? This was the plan. To show the world who the Avengers truly are. To let them destroy each other.”

“But we caused the destruction. Does that- does that make us the same as them?” There was silence at the other end. You came out and Pietro hung up. Quickly shooting Wanda a text that he would talk later.

“I don’t know if you have heard but- there has been a Hulk Attack. I have to go, my dad- I have to go.” Pietro stood there silently as watched you. You were worried.

“You can come with me Pietro. You’ll be safe.”

“I can’t”

“But-“

“I really can’t. I have to go, and seems like you do too. I’ll talk to you later.” And he left, instantly, too quickly you thought, or did you just imagine it?

When you arrived at the Avengers tower, Tony and Nat had already returned, and Bruce was back as himself again.

“I didn’t know how it happened- but the world saw the real Hulk again.” Bruce told everyone. He was shaken.

“No buddy, I’m telling you, I saw your eyes. It was all different. They were red.” Tony argued.

“That’s right Bruce, I’ve become quite good with the lullaby, but nothing worked till Tony knocked you out. Something must have happened.”

“Mind Control.” Clint spoke up. “Happened with me, so I know it.”

“You guys would wanna see this” Agent hill comes in. “The attack left the media all over you guys and I’ve been trying to find out Hydra’s possible involvement but something else came up. Remember that Strucker was killed some time ago? And almost nothing was found about it? Well data has come up regarding the involvement of two of Strucker’s own experiments.”

Hill went on about more details. She said she tried to track down more information about the two.

“The two enhanced have been identified as Wanda and Pietro Maximoff. Twins, originating from Sokovia. We don’t know their agenda but they have been seen in the city. The girl has mind controlling powers.” Hearing the name Pietro, made you look up. It was just a common name right?

“Find out about their whereabouts.” Steve told Hill. Just on cue the alarms in the building started going off, Tony’s A.I. informed there had been a breach.

Pietro and Wanda entered the Avengers tower, they realised their identity might be out any moment, so it was better to take matters in their hand. It was now or never. They had to come in light. Pietro knew your were gonna be there. But he had a much bigger goal than thinking about you.

“You stay here, Clint is gonna be with you. We-“

Before Tony could finish, Wanda and Pietro came directly in front. Everyone took their weapons out. Steve got his Shield and Tony called for his suit.

“Easy there, we are unarmed, or is that how you Avengers go on with it? Kill unarmed people?” Wanda asked.

“What is it that you want?”

“Justice” Pietro told with conviction.

You couldn’t believe what was happening, that was him, your Pietro.

“Pietro?” You asked him, still not grasping the reality. It didn’t make any sense. He looked at you but didn’t say anything.

“You know him?” Tony asked.

“He- I- Pietro what- what is this? who is she?” You were hopelessly looking at him for answers.

“We are Pietro and Wanda Maximoff and we are here to get justice for the death of our parents.” Wanda told everyone.

“Either give us justice by taking accountability all of your wrong doings, for the destructions you have caused, or we will do it ourselves. The world doesn’t need fake heroes like you, who kill innocent people.”

“Your father is a murderer” Pietro finally talked to you. “And he will pay.”

“What are you saying? The Avengers help people, they don’t-“

“Shut up. You’re either too stupid or delusional. Your father kept you in this protected world while people like us suffered. I wouldn’t expect you to understand, Miss Stark.” You were taken aback by his harsh tone. Was that really your Pietro?

“Is that what your think of me?” You asked him with tears in your eyes.

“Don’t you get it? It doesn’t fucking matter. You don’t matter. You were just a means to get closer to the Avengers.” Pietro informed you harshly. “But my sister accelerated things and I think that was for the best. My plan was too slow.”

“Was that all I was to you? Just a plan? Everything else, a lie?” You knew the questions were rhetorical but you couldn’t help yourself. It all felt so real? The way Pietro looked at you,. the moments you shared, how could it all be a lie?

Pietro couldn’t look into your teary eyes. Why did it affect him? It didn’t matter if you were hurt. No. He didn’t care about you. That wasn’t the plan.

“Tell me Pietro, look into my eyes and say that not even for a second it was real to you.”

“You are so fucking self obsessed that you can’t even focus on the reality.” Pietro knew it wasn’t true. You were nice and caring, empathetic. “This is so much bigger than you and your feelings. Fuck I should have just killed you instead, that would have taught your monster of a father a true lesson, he would have realised how it feels when you lose someone so close.” Pietro was in the flurry of rage.

“Pietro…” Wanda could feel Pietro was fighting a battle within himself. Things were getting messy.

“Enough!” Tony shouted. “Your fight was with me and the Avengers, you shouldn’t have got my daughter involved.”

“Scares you doesn’t it? Knowing I could have killed your precious daughter? Fucking hurts doesn’t it?”

Tony took out his blasters and Pietro attacked him as fast as he could, Wanda used her powers to throw Steve and Clint away, Thor took up his hammer- It all happened so quickly.

Before you knew what was happening, you felt your body move, Nat shot a bullet towards Pietro who was fighting Tony, and you came in front of him. Taking the bullet yourself. Immediately you fell to the ground.

“No!” Tony yelled. “Take her to the medic, Honey why did you do it? Why?” Everyone rushed to you as Pietro stood their in shock. Did you jump in to save him? Did you take the bullet for him?

“Why?” Pietro asked as he looked at you on the ground, in Tony’s arms.

“Because I know you’re not the bad guy. You’re a victim of an accident.” You were losing too much blood.

“Looks like you’ll get your wish Pietro, I hope you’re happy after this.” You managed to speak out before losing consciousness.

Pietro pushed everyone away and got close to you within a second. Tony was about to push him away when Pietro took you in his arms.

“Where is the medic?” Pietro asked while carrying your unconscious body. “WHERE IS THE MEDIC?” He yelled.

“Third Floor.”

“Call the doctors to be ready.” And in an instant you rushed to the Medic with you in your arms. He put you on the medic bed.

Everyone else came as quickly as they could, Clint and Nat had their eye on Wanda. Tony was too broken to fight with either Pietro were Wanda.

“You both will face the consequences.” Nat told them.

Wanda moved closer to her brother who was intently watching the doctors operate you through the door.

“She took the bullet for me. And I said I should have killed her. I don’t want that Wanda- I don’t her to die. None of this was her fault then why did I get her involved? Did we really become that driven by the need for revenge?”

He couldn’t stop his tears. “She comforted me you know. Listened to me. And for a second it was real. Fuck who am I lying to? You and me both know it was real. I know that wasn’t the plan but it happened. And now she is lying unconscious. Because of me. She protected me.”

After a whole agonising 24 hours, you gained consciousness. Meanwhile Nat and Clint interrogated the Maximoffs. Pietro didn’t speak a word. To lost to say anything. His mind only had one thought. You.

Wanda answered some questions. Told them the details about their parent’s death.

“We only wanted justice. We didn’t want to physically hurt any innocent people. But I guess the Hulk attack changed that. Suddenly the reality set in on us. The consequences of the destruction. We were too driven by rage. But we couldn’t back down.”

“Look Kid, these people who you hate so much, give everyone a chance for redemption. Trust me. You’ve got powers right? Do you know how many people you can help with that?”

They talked to Wanda more and as soon as Pietro heard about you gaining consciousness he was in front of the room you were in. So were the rest of the Avengers, including Tony.

“Don’t even think about going inside.” Tony told him.

“I just want to know she is okay.”

“She is. Now go away before I do something to you.”

“Kid, you should back away.” Steve told Pietro.

One of the doctors came out and informed them you have requested to talk to Pietro. Even against Tony’a wishes, Pietro finally got to go in.

“I-“ Pietro didn’t know what to say.

“I’m sorry you didn’t get to hurt my dad by seeing me dead.”

“Don’t say that please.”

“That’s what you wanted right?”

“I thought it’s what I should do, to give my parents justice. But if they saw what I did, what we did, they would have been so disappointed.”

You kept quiet. Facing away from him.

“Losing someone close always hurts, and I don’t think I can do that again.” Pietro confessed as he sat down beside your bed

“You were right, it was real, what we had. That wasn’t the plan but it just happened. I didn’t want to admit it. Didn’t want to divert from my goal.”

“What matters is what you do now”

“I’m in too deep now, I became what I wanted to protect the world from. It’s too late.”

“It isn’t. You were a victim, consumed by rage you did everything. There is always chance for redemption. You have powers right? You want to protect the world right? The people you hate so much are trying to do the same. Maybe I don’t agree with all of their methods, you don’t have to either. But they are not bad people.”

“Will you- will you give me another chance?”

“I don’t think I can trust you again.”

Pietro deserved that.

“Take care дорогой”

Wanda and Pietro were taken in by the Avengers. The twins realised, they themselves had been manipulated by various people. If they had received the powers, why not use it for good.

You hardly went out anymore. Nothing felt right. You were happy to hear about Wanda and Pietro, but you felt like part of yourself went missing forever.

Few months later, one day you decided to go to your favourite coffee shop again. Maybe you had to start living again. Things were better, even if a little. Ordering your favourite drink, you sat down in a nice spot beside the window.

“Is this seat taken?” Your eyes went up to the silver haired man. You shook your head.

“If you want, you can always throw your drink on my face.” He spoke nervously. “At least that would give me a chance to buy you another.”

You couldn’t help but smile. The memories of your first meeting flashing in your mind, but also a reminder of the beginning of the lies.

“I know you said you can’t trust me. I understand that. Can you at least give me a chance to try to win your trust again? No matter how long it takes. I’ll keep trying.”

“Pietro…”

“I’m an Avenger now.” He said proudly. “I guess they are not too bad. Better than Hydra and the rest of the lot at least.”

“I’m happy to hear that.” You told him with a small smile on your face.

“We stopped a Hydra attack recently, saved some hostages, an old lady thanked me for saving her life. You have no idea how good that felt.” Your smile grew bigger.

“Your parents would be proud.” Pietro looked at you trying to control his tears, and stopping himself from taking you in his arms.

“Please дорогой, please give me one chance.”

“You- you won’t hurt me again.”

“Never. I only want to make you happy.”

You smiled and pushed your cup gently towards him. He took a sip.

“Sweet. Like you.” You smiled again.

“We can go out for Ice Cream, maybe?”

“It would mean the world to me дорогой”

#pietro maximoff x reader #pietro maximoff #quicksilver #quicksilver x reader #pietro maximov #pietro maximoff x you #pietro maximoff fanfiction #pietro maximoff angst

[therealdisneyfan2319]

The Spider and The Witch Chapter 4: The Mission and The Mistake

Summary: As Y/N's time with the Avengers comes to a close, Tony wants him to get some firsthand experience by joining the team on a mission.

Pairing: Wanda Maximoff x Male Reader

Warnings: Mild language

Word Count: 2.5K

A/N: Sorry for the sporadic posting. I've been dealing with a lot of personal stuff that hasn't given me the mental capacity to write or do anything really. The urge to write has been extremely low and I don't really want to anymore. I'm hoping it's just a phase and that I'll be able to power through and keep writing. In the meantime, enjoy chapter 4 :)

“No.  Absolutely not.  He’s not ready, Tony.  He’s not coming.”

“He’ll be fine.  We’ll make him our water boy.”

“Who’s going to watch him?  Are we supposed to get a babysitter?”

“He’s got Karen, she’ll keep him out of trouble.”

The back and forth between Steve and Tony drolled on as you zoned out.  You were due back in Manhattan at the end of the week and you were more than excited to get back to late night study sessions and chemical equations.  The past month at the Compound was a transformative experience in so many ways, but you didn’t particularly enjoy it all too much.  It was difficult making friends with the rest of the team.  Bucky was the closest thing you could consider a friend seeing as you spent every morning in the weight room with him, Natasha coming in at a close yet still distant second.  Most evenings you spent alone in your room, frozen vegetables strategically spread over your battered body and the faintest image of your corpse being magically driven by the Scarlet Witch in the corners of your mind. 

Being an Avenger wasn’t what you wanted.  If anything this experience further solidified your decision to pursue medicine.  But Tony didn’t want you to leave without getting some real-life experience.  There was a mission planned for the end of the week.  Rogue A.I.M. agents had been tracked to a secure facility in Washington, D.C. where they were planning on stealing the last remaining samples of the Extremis virus.  The mission was simple: get in, get out, ensure the sample’s safety.  It was going to require all hands on deck.  A month of training had given you rudimentary Spider-Man skills.  You didn’t think that you would be useful, but Tony obviously thought otherwise.

“Tony, Steve’s got a point.  He’s only been here a month,” Natasha added.  “What if he gets caught up in a mess?  We can’t have eyes everywhere all at once.”

“There’s going to be more than enough of us to make sure that he’s got backup if he needs it,” Tony explained, rubbing his temples.  

“Look, I don’t have to go.  That’s more than okay with me,” you interrupted.  A dozen heads abruptly turned in your direction.  It felt like everyone forgot you were actually in the room.

“You’re going and that’s final, young man,” Tony snapped.  “I’ll keep him under my watch.  He won’t cause any problems.”

“And what if someone gets hurt?  Then what, Tony?” Steve asked. 

“He won’t get anyone hurt.  Well, except maybe some bad guys, but that’s okay.  You won’t hurt anyone, Y/N.  Right?”  You quickly nodded.  “See, look, he just promised he won’t.  Case closed, he’s coming, see you all tomorrow.”

Great.

******

Spandex clung to you a little too tight as you sat in the very back of the Quinjet.  Maybe it was the anticipation of your first mission, but everything felt a little too tight, a little too warm, and a little too loud as you flew towards D.C.  You nestled up into the back corner, cool metal radiating through your suit and feebly working at cooling your skin.  The apprehension about your first mission was one you’d never felt before: it was like the anticipation of a final exam dialed up to an eleven.  While you could always retake a course if you failed, there were no do-overs if you messed up on the mission.  A sense of dread looming over you, you failed miserably at relaxing into your seat.

“So,” You looked up as Tony plopped down next to you, “how are you feeling?”  You shrugged.  “Nervous?”  You shrugged again. “Everyone’s first time is a little nerve wracking.  Performance anxiety’s a killer.  Hey, did you know that one out of every-”

“Where exactly are you going with this, Mr. Stark?”

“Here’s the deal: we’ll drop in, you hang back.  We’ll call you when we need you.  Water cooler’s over there.” He motioned to the orange cooler resting in the opposite corner.  

“So that’s it?  Just swing in with the water and swing out?”  

“Pretty much,” Tony nodded.  “I just want you to get a smidge of experience before you get out of here.  Nothing too crazy, maybe have you shoot a web at a building or a tied-up bad guy.”  He clapped you on the shoulder rather awkwardly.

“Thanks,” you replied.

“Look alive, kid.  We’ll be heading in soon.”

While Tony turned to address the group, you found yourself deep in your own world.  Logically you understood that the likelihood of being in danger was extremely low.  Even so, images of Peter’s final fight flashed through your mind.  The last thing you wanted was to end up like him.  You also felt incredibly unprepared.  These were literal superheroes fighting literal bad guys.  It wasn’t your wrestling room, faux-city training sessions with Tony’s drones: this was the real deal.  Things could go very wrong and people could get hurt.  While Tony asserted his confidence in you, you doubted your own instincts.  Your “spidey sense” was still faulty in the sense that it was difficult to tell what was a true threat and what was a false alarm.  If you couldn’t trust your own superpowers, how could anyone rely on you to get the job done?

“You get all that, kid?” Tony’s voice snapped you back to reality.

“Huh?” you answered, jerking your head towards him.  “Uhh, yeah.  Yeah.  Let’s do this.”

Natasha chuckled, shaking her head as she tossed Clint some more trick arrows.  “This is gonna go well,” she muttered.  

******

“Rogers to base, we are over the drop zone,” Steve called over the radio.

“This is base.  Area secured, you are all clear,” the agent’s voice crackled over the other end of the radio.  “I repeat, you are a go.”

Steve stood up, placing his headset on the dashboard before turning to address the group.  “You all know your parts, let’s get the job done.”  Bucky snapped off an exaggerated salute as Steve rolled his eyes.  

“Once we land, you’ll-”

“Stay on the ship, I got it,” you interrupted as Tony tried to remind you yet again of your inaction on the mission.

“Call if something catches fire,” he instructed, his nanosuit deftly encapsulating his body.  

As the ship landed, you hugged the back wall as everyone departed.  Steve, Bucky, Natasha, and Clint took off toward the main bunker where the virus was being held.  Wanda and Pietro would secure the perimeter while Tony, Sam, and Rhodey took to the sky to keep an overhead watch.  Sighing, you slumped down, clutching the silky mask in your hands and watched the mission unfold in real-time over the holographic display.  Steve’s crew expertly navigated the maze of buildings and security measures as they trekked toward the holding facility.  Wanda hovered overhead, observing Pietro dash wildly around the entire complex.  He was a mere blur against the grainy screen, barely visible to the naked eye.  Even higher were the three flyers: stationary yet constantly scanning for threats.  

So far, so good, you thought.  No enemy agents had been spotted, making this retrieval of Extremis easy.  Standing up and stretching your arms overhead, something caught your attention on the bottom of the screen.  A small shadow flickered near one of the other buildings.  It was difficult to make out what it was at first.  As you studied it further, your eyes straining against the low video quality, your heart started to race: a group of A.I.M. agents had somehow made it through all of the Avengers’ defenses.  Regardless, they were slinking their way towards Steve and his crew were retrieving the virus.

“Karen, I need to talk to Mr. Stark,” you shouted as you pulled the mask down over your face.

“Hold on, I’ll connect you,” Karen’s quasi-robotic voice politely responded. 

“Fire extinguisher’s right under the-”

“There’s a bunch of bad guys heading toward the south entrance of the building where Cap is, Mr. Stark!” you exclaimed somewhat aggressively.

“What?  You sure?”

“I just saw them on the video feed.  There’s, I don’t know, maybe half a dozen of them?”

“Armed?”

“Yeah-?  At least I think so.”

“Well, you spotted them.  Finders, keepers, so why don’t you swing on in?”  Your heart lurched, as did your stomach.  You were being called into action.  

“Karen, I guess we’re going in,” you sighed, tugging at your mask.

“Would you like to activate instant kill?” she asked.

“No.  No, I’m good.  Let’s…let’s just see what happens, I guess-?”  Taking a deep breath, you jogged off the ship toward the commotion.  Your jog quickly morphed into a sprint as you eyed the nearest tall object.  An oversized gate post became your target as you flicked your wrist, a silky white web launching out and attaching itself to the concrete structure while you used your momentum to propel yourself into the air.  

The weightless feeling of web-slinging wasn’t one you particularly cared for.  You hated roller coasters and anything of the like.  The inevitable lurch and stomach drop were two sensations that were extremely unnerving.  At least while swinging you could control whenever the weightless sensation occurred.  

As you crested in mid-air, no webs to tether you to solid ground, you shot another web to the side of a building, pulling yourself closer and closer to your foe.  The rhythmic thwip and release of your webs and the wind whooshing past your ears was unusually calming: it calmed your overactive senses and focused you on your objective.  

“Karen, can we get a location on the bad guys?” you asked as you landed somewhat awkwardly on the side of one of the robust brick buildings.  

“Targets are in the building directly to the southeast.  They’re heading north toward the building where Captain Rogers is.”

“How many are there?”

“Eight, but there could be more.  I’m not able to scan inside the buildings.  That building’s walls are lead-lined.”

“Okay, umm, guess I’ll just follow them-?”

“Would you like to activate instant kill before you start moving?”

“What is it with you and that goddamn instant kill, Karen?” you gritted.  As you stuck to the wall, postulating what your next move was, you felt something whoosh by you: it was the flyers.  Rhodey and Sam were nosediving directly toward the agents, Redwing following closely behind them.  Tony fell back and drifted over toward you.

“Nice job,” he complimented as his helmet flipped up. “We can take care of it from here, but if you wanna hop down and shoot a web at them just to kick a little extra sand in their face, be my guest.”

“Sounds good,” you responded.

“Great!  I’ll let you know when we’re ready for you.”  He flipped his helmet back down, his hand propulsers firing him toward the fight on the ground.  Steve and his team had joined in, fighting and easily overpowering the A.I.M agents.  You smirked underneath your mask.  As much as you didn’t like being part of the Avengers, it was pretty cool to see them kicking butt.  Clint was shooting off trick arrows that were exploding and dropping nets.  Steve had one of them cornered, using his shield to keep another one at bay while Natasha roundhouse kicked him.  Bucky was shooting in every which way.  It was reminiscent of a Fourth of July celebration.  The colorful fireworks and booming explosions were replaced with the hazy smoke and echoing pops of gunfire.  The sulfuric scent of the powder overpowered your scent even though you were stories in the air.  Yet as the scene wore on, your spidey sense told you something was off.  

“Hey Karen, can you scan the area again?”  The eyes of your mask narrowed as you slowly circled your head around the perimeter.  “Wait, hold on, what’s that?” you asked, the hair on the back of your neck standing up as something spooked your senses.

“Three more agents, heading up the southwest corridor.”

“Shit!”  The rest of the team was directing all their attention to the primary group of agents.  There was no way they’d be able to see these other three.  But there were only three.  The odds were in your favor and you could probably deal with them long enough for Tony to fly over and give you a hand.  “Karen, if they get into that building they’re gonna take the samples…shit.”  Time you spent contemplating what to do was time wasted in the grand scheme of stopping anything bad from happening.  Taking a deep breath, you lept from the building, aiming your webs as close to the targeted building as possible: it stuck.  You swung forward with all your might.  

Your field of view narrowed and sharpened as the three assailants drew closer to you.  Hoping they didn’t sense your incoming presence behind them, you shot a web at the one furthest from you.  It snared his legs and he hit the ground with a loud yelp.  The other two whipped around, their guns pointed straight at you.

“You know, I’d like to get home in one piece,” you quipped as you trapped the next one to the wall of the building just as you landed on it yourself.  He stuck to the wall just as you landed against it.  The man yelled in protest, so you webbed his mouth shut.  The third assailant sprinted on, firing sporadically at you as he ran past the building.  The bullets pinged off the building, chunks of brick popping off in every which way.  Somehow you could tell where the bullets would land before they did: chalk one up for Spidey sense.  

“Nope,” you shouted.  The assailant dodged and weaved as you shot burst after burst at him.  His luck quickly ran out.  You awkwardly trapped him on the yellow bollard set alongside the sidewalk.  The angle of your webs caught him on the butt.  It left him wriggling like a worm.  

The sight of three rogue agents caught in your trap unexpectedly filled you with a sense of smug satisfaction.  Maybe you weren’t as helpless as you and everyone else thought.

“Hey Karen, can you let Mr. Stark know about these guys?” you asked.  Just then a wild dust cloud tore towards you: it was Pietro.  The dust settled around him as he stopped, his hair whipping wildly in the remnants of his self-contained cyclone.  His blue shirt, drenched with sweat and dirt, clung to his heaving chest as he caught his breath.

“Did you do…this?” Pietro asked, motioning to the three captives with his finger.

“Yeah,” you yelled, jumping down from the wall.  “Karen’s gonna let Mr. Stark know about them.”

“Nice,” Pietro grinned as he pushed a strand of hair from his face.  “I’ll go back in and double check on everything.  Make sure it’s all safe, you know?”  He turned on the spot and jogged toward the door.  You were a fair distance back from the building watching Pietro head inside when you saw it: the thug you strapped to the wall managed to wiggle his hand to his utility belt, get his hands on a grenade, and, much to your horror, pull the pin as Pietro opened the door to the pressurized building.

#wanda maximoff #scarlet witch #wanda maximoff fic #scarlet witch fic #wanda maximoff x male reader #wanda x male reader #wanda x reader #wanda maximoff x y/n #scarlet witch x male reader #scarlet witch x reader #scarlet witch x y/n #spiderman #spiderman fic #spiderman reader #spiderman male reader #wanda maximoff x spiderman reader #wanda maximoff x spiderman male reader #scarlet witch x spiderman reader #scarlet witch x spiderman male reader #self reader insert #male reader #male reader insert #marvel #mcu #marvel fanfiction #therealdisneyfan2319

[incorrectmarvelquotesss]

— abience —

Warnings: fluff, angst, self-loathing!Bucky, mentions of PTSD, light mentions of racism

Summary: His head wasn’t clear and you were just in the way of his anger. || Soulmates AU

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Female Reader

Word Count: ~6k

A/N: This took too much time to edit and I’m pretty sure there’s still some mistakes. Anyway, it’s almost my birthday which means I want to do something for it here. Let me know if you guys want a drabble day or something like that. Enjoy!

*the strong urge to avoid someone or something*

Bucky grabbed a pen and looked around for a paper, telling Tony to calm down over the phone. When he finally gave up on finding a piece of paper, he opted to switch hands and scribble the address down on his right arm. He mentally thought that he should be happy for being ambidextrous even though it was Hydra’s doing, but Tony’s voice made Bucky tune back into reality before he could get too lost in his head. 

“That’s the restaurant and remember to wear something casual,” Tony started, ranting about Morgan’s birthday dinner party. Gone was the Tony Stark that wanted every magazine to know his whereabouts and have overly sized parties. Now he would rather spend time in a diner that Steve had taken Morgan to, which she absolutely adored, and only have his family there. 

Him and Pepper had the life that Bucky had wanted. He knew that they were soulmates, hearing about the time when Pepper had written a time and place on her forearm to meet with a client. Tony’s forearm had displayed the exact writing—and he claims to have recognized the handwriting—and decided to drop by the place where he pulled Pepper’s sleeve up and finally found his soulmate. They had their ups and downs, but they complemented each other and brought out the best in each other. 

Bucky figured that that was what soulmates did. Complement each other. Brought out the best in each other. Complete each other. Help when one didn’t help themselves. He sometimes couldn’t help but wish he knew his soulmate, but he had decided it was better if he didn’t meet them. The Winter Soldier was still infamous for his actions, no matter how many times Bucky joined the Avengers for a mission to save the world—or universe. The lingering stares and whispered hatred followed him and he was sure it would eventually get too much for his soulmate. 

Unless it was Natasha, he guessed, having been through something similar, Though she had found her soulmate a while before Bucky showed up. Steve had always thought that Peggy was his only soulmate in existence, but fate had proved him wrong when he had seen Natasha’s perfect cursive cross his arm as she drew out the words she wanted to get tattooed one day. Bucky had realized that they were a perfect match in more than some ways. The two were always coordinated and in sync, so it didn’t phase anyone on the team. 

“I know,” Bucky huffed out, head snapping up as the doorbell echoed throughout his apartment. He looked at the clock and knew that there was only one person who could be here this late at night—it was only nine, but no one showed up that late. “I’ll see you tomorrow, Tony.” 

“Yeah, alright, Buckaroo. And don’t forget to wear your happy face,” Tony said before hanging up on him. Not unusual for the genius, billionaire, philanthropist. Bucky had long gotten used to it, knowing he hung up on everyone, except Pepper and Morgan. Bucky couldn’t even resent him for that—Bucky would never dare hang up on Pepper or Morgan. 

The doorbell chimed again and Bucky rolled his eyes, placing his phone on the island of his kitchen and walking towards the main entrance. He paused for a second when he caught the scent of cinnamon, hand frozen on the doorknob. It reminded him of a sweeter time, a bittersweet memory surfacing with hazy edges and leaving the lingering taste of a velvety texture in his mouth. 

He twisted the door open. 

“Hey, Bucky!” Sam said, barging in and toeing off his shoes without wasting a second for an invitation. He had gotten used to that ever since Sam decided to move into the apartment across from him. Even though he used to do it before moving into the building. It was just more prominent now to Bucky, the barging in with late night leftovers or pastries and sweets from the bakery down the street. The one where that sweet woman, who Sam didn’t shut up about ever, worked. 

“What do you want?” That was his regular greeting and Sam accepted it. 

“Well, you know that bakery down the street?”

“No, I don’t.” 

Sam ignored him and said, “That girl I told you about tried out this new recipe with cinnamon buns and wanted me to try them, but being the good friend I am, I brought some for you to try too.”

“Jee, thanks,” Bucky drawled out as Sam placed the buns into the two plates Bucky owned. He had only one before, but Sam bought one for himself and left it here for things like these. 

There was a reason why he never invited people over. 

The living room had one two-seater with a small side table that was usually stacked with books from a shop he had found tucked between a few larger buildings. The carpet was actually a blanket that Bucky had bought a few years ago and often used it as a mattress. The two bedrooms were practically empty, a bed and a night table the only two things in each. Bucky used neither rooms nor the dining room, hence why there was no table in there. The two stools were pulled up against the island in the kitchen where Bucky, and Sam occasionally, ate any meal. 

“Well, you are very welcome,” Sam sassed, chuckling to himself as Bucky’s broody mood lightened slightly at the familiar sight of cinnamon buns. “The woman said that she finally has a lead on her soulmate, y’know? 

“That’s good for her,” Bucky said, not exactly in the mood for more soulmate bullshit. His left arm was permanently gone from existence so if his soulmate was right-handed, the chances of finding her decreased immensely. So there was more that Hydra took from him then. If he focused on it, he could probably find about a gazillion things they had taken from him. His sanity being the first one. Control, emotions, soulmate, time, name, the list could go on and on. 

Sam bit into a bun and groaned, falling into the stool and smacking the island with his hand twice. Bucky bit back an insult, feeling like Sam was being a bit more dramatic than usual for something so small. He was used to the sounds and compliments that left his mouth after a bite, but the actions were new. And Bucky could say they were stupid and unnecessary, but held back because the previous pastries had been good too. 

“Good sweetness, this is amazing,” Sam moaned, making Bucky pick up his own cinnamon bun. He eyed it with distaste, but bit into it anyway. 

He felt his heart warm as the heat of the bun hit his tongue. Then the flavours flooded his mouth, bursting through the dough and making him inhale sharply. The sweet taste of cinnamon made him lick his lips. The light pinch of strawberry made his mouth water, desperate to take another bite and another. He barely registered when he had taken the second bite, the flavour of the pastry making him feel fuzzy and cozy. Comfortable. 

“So,” Sam stressed out, his eyes already telling Bucky that he was about to tease him, “how is it?” 

“It’s good,” Bucky grunted, putting the bun back on the plate while his face burned. He averted his eyes from Sam, wiping his fingers against his thigh and then flicking the dust off of his sweatpants. He didn’t know what it was about the bun, but it made him flustered. Nervous. Unsettled. There was a memory attached to cinnamon, that much he had clicked together. He just had a gut-sinking feeling that the memory was connected to his mother. 

His mother had already been a sore topic of discussion. He could remember his sisters just fine, Rebecca being the most occurring between her, Eleanor, and Mary. Other than Rebecca, the three of them had bright steel-blue eyes. Rebecca had inherited his mother’s brown eyes, but she looked like the feminine version of Bucky. He remembered the countless times someone had pointed it out, saying that they could have been twins if Rebecca was a bit older. His father had always laughed and said it was in his strong genes that the two of them looked like him.

Steve had tried to talk about his mother—the one he barely even recognized—but Bucky had somehow managed to ignore all of those conversations. Steve, retired with Natasha by his side, had yet to finish a whole sentence about Winifred Barnes in front of Bucky. 

“I was wondering,” Sam started, giving Bucky a glare when he sighed, “if you were going to Morgan’s birthday party?”

“I am,” Bucky replied, lifting up his bun and eyeing it, pondering on whether he wanted to indulge in the memory or not. If he took a bite and remembered what made cinnamon so special to him, maybe he would finally remember the brown eyes he adored and the warm arms that welcomed him home everyday after school. 

“Great! We’re going together then,” Sam stated and stuffed the last piece into his mouth. Bucky cringed inwardly and shook his head. 

“No.” Bucky put his bun down and Sam eyed it. 

“Yur nof guha eaf faf?” Sam pointed at the bun, voice muffled, but gestures telling Bucky exactly what he was asking. Bucky rolled his eyes and waved his hand dismissively, watching Sam jump in his stool slightly before grabbing the piece from his plate. Sam swallowed down the piece that was in his mouth and added, “We’re so going together tomorrow. My car’s at the shop.” 

“Why?” That was the one question Bucky ever asked. He found it easier to ask that and have the other person continue to talk than small talk. Idle chit-chats that he could barely remember were the worst and his biggest nightmare at this point. 

“Well, the engine started making this noise,” Sam began, gesturing with his hands and elaborating on the noises more than Bucky wanted. Bucky’s shoulders started to relax as he realized he was in for a long night. 

———

Sunlight glared at him through the blinds, waking him from the dreamless sleep he was finally getting. Bucky begrudgingly rolled out of his makeshift bed, cursing Sam for staying until midnight watching Disney’s Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs after Bucky let it slip that he took his sister to go watch it. He rushed down the steps of his apartment building, still shrugging on his damn flannel and biting into his plum as he turned the corner. He finished it off by the time he had crossed the street, sending up a hand to a car that had stopped for him. 

His shoulder knocked into someone as he entered the bakery, desperate to have something in his stomach before he took the subway into Manhattan. He muttered out an apology—the person had already disappeared—and continued his venture into the bakery Sam always talked about. Bucky had never been inside nor had he realized that it was a cafe/bakery. The scent of coffee and pastries made him pause for a second before he stepped into the queue. Ordering his coffee and paying for it, he found himself looking around the place.

It was made to look vintage, that much was obvious. The walls were a cool brown colour with beige accents creating swirly patterns around the whole cafe. The tables and stools lined up on the walls were another shade of brown that matched the round tables in the middle of the floor. The chairs for the tables were a light cream colour that matched the ceiling and the register counter. There were pillar replicas cut to fit into the corners of the walls, ninety degrees perfectly. 

Once the barista called his name and held out his coffee, he rushed forward to grab and then walked out of the bakery. Cafe. Cafe/bakery place. He turned slightly as he walked away to glance at the name; Moonstruck. That didn’t help calm the debate happening in his head. Was it a cafe or a bakery? Is it both? Is it—

“Hey, Buck!” Sam called out from behind, a cunning smile on his face. He waved a hand teasingly as he lightly jogged over, a coffee in his hands as well. “Thought you could go without me, did you?” 

Bucky rolled his eyes and continued to walk away, muttering, “Don’t know what I was thinking.” He took a sip of his coffee and looked up just in time to avoid a collision with a cyclist. 

“I’m gonna ignore that and—” Sam paused to sip his coffee and gave the cyclist a glare— “tell you flannels are a good look on you.” 

Bucky glanced down at his attire and shrugged dismissively. His black pants, black shirt, and red flannel were nothing to compliment. He found them all too casual and, quite frankly, the only decent pair of clothing he had for this outing. He didn’t say anything to humour Sam, instead taking another few sips of his coffee. It was good, very well-made, but that was another thing Bucky kept to himself. 

“Oh! You got that coffee from Moonstruck, didn’t ya? I’d recognize that logo from a mile away,” Sam started, wiggling his eyebrows when Bucky sent him a glare. They reached the station, taking the steps down and scanning their cards to get in. Sam had, thankfully, kept his mouth closed for the time they waited for the subway to arrive, sipping his coffee and sending smiles at a particular woman who kept eyeing him with a smirk. 

They both had to stand in the subway; apparently Saturdays in the middle of fall meant rush hour in the early afternoons. Bucky wondered briefly if he had rode in the subway back in the 40s. He knew there were working subways in New York then, but he doubted he ever took it. If he had to compare the money his parents had back then, he was sure they would be living as luxurious as Tony was now. They had a car and some foods that others would have had to work for months straight for. 

As the subway started nearing the stop they were due to get off at, Sam started getting jittery. 

“Do you think Steve’s gonna be there?” He asked, eyes darting to Bucky as he leaned against a divider. After Steve had given the mantle over to Sam, Sam had been doing nothing but trying. His view on the idealistic Captain America was different from what Steve’s was. He wanted Captain America to not just represent the country and the people in it, but also shed light on what America really was. It wasn’t the best country in the world, nor was everyone living in it the best people. Sam wanted to put that out to the world. 

Bucky and Steve could respect him for it. Sam thought that they wouldn’t, simply because they didn’t share the same life experiences as him. They didn’t have police pulling up behind them already on high alert, just based on the colour of their skin. They didn’t have to endure the stares and subtle gestures of moving away or moving something away from them. Sam had explained what he saw Captain America to be with hesitancy, seemingly fully expecting the two to laugh in his face or tell him that it was wrong. But they had nodded solemnly and agreed, knowing that they would never know the struggles but could at least try to understand and help in any given way. 

“Probably,” Bucky replied after a moment of thinking, shrugging. His one-word answer wasn’t enough for Sam. 

“You think he watches the news? They’ve been dragging my name through the dirt with last week’s disaster,” he continued, grabbing the rail as the subway stopped to let passengers down at the stop. Last week’s disaster meant the tabloid of Sam talking to Zemo before the Wakandans took him in. He had watched a news channel dissect the picture, drawing to the stupidly hilarious conclusion that Sam had links to Hydra. The mere idea was laughable. 

“Don’t worry,” was all Bucky grumbled out, stepping between a few people as they made their way to the doors. It wasn’t the best thing to say because Sam let out a frustrated sigh and had an irritated expression on his face. Bucky knew he should have had more things to say, to comfort Sam, but words were complicated. Bucky could never find the right ones and he found himself cutting his sentence down to just a few words. 

The speakers went off with an automated voice telling them to stay clear of the door just before a ding and the doors slid open. Sam and Bucky slipped out of the subway, moving past the crowd that waited to get on and jogged up the stairs out to Manhattan. The stench in the air never failed to make Bucky’s throat itch for a few minutes. It was better when they passed the rush of the tourists and traffic in central Manhattan and made their way towards where the diner was nestled. Sam decided against saying anything for the time being and Bucky was thankful. 

———

“Ay! Buckaroo and Cappie made it!” Tony announced, clapping Sam on the back as Sam glared at him. Tony kept his grin on his face, making it bigger for the sheer amusement of seeing Sam get all riled up at the nickname. Bucky had long accepted his, hearing it from Morgan a few times, said just a hair wrong and decided it was cute. 

“Buckaroo!” Morgan shouted at the top of her lungs and ran straight towards Bucky, launching herself at him. Bucky, being an ex-assassin and having been greeted like this since the third time, let a smile grace his lips as he extended his arms just in time to catch her mid-jump. 

“Hey, Mags.” He felt her arms wrap around his neck and arms around his middle as he held her close to his body, giving her a long hug before squeezing her tightly and letting her go. She jumped in his arms, bright eyes looking right at him with an excitement he hadn’t seen before. 

“Did you write the address on your arm?” She asked, eyes widening as she whipped her head to look over her shoulder before turning back to look at him, hair slapping his cheek lightly each time. Bucky cocked an eyebrow and nodded slowly. She grinned wider, if that was possible with her small cheeks and face, and said, “Your soulmate’s here!” 

Bucky’s heart dropped, feeling the blood drain out of his face and head towards his ears, thumping loudly. His face must have been somewhere between shock and horror, but Morgan mistook his expression for surprise and wriggled in his arms to be put down. She darted towards the back of the diner, towards his soulmate, shouting something at him along the lines of come on, buckaroo, she’s waiting. Bucky snapped out of his initial shock, but it turned into panic. Full blown panic. His head was spinning with worry so he did the only thing he could do. 

Run. 

Fight or flight, and he, like a coward, took the latter. He spun around on his heels, knocking his shoulder against Sam as he exited the door they had just entered. His chest rose and fell with each laboured breath he took, a shiver licking up his spine as he felt the cold seep into his bones. It was deeply embedded, drawing out a shudder from him as he fell forward, one hand on the wall as he tried to catch his breath. His chest felt heavy, suffocating him from the inside, squeezing his ribs and never letting go. Breathing was getting harder and it felt better not breathing. 

“Bucky?” Steve’s hand was on his shoulder, squeezing tightly to let him know that he was here. Bucky wanted to throw his hand off and tackle him to the ground, but all too soon, his mind cleared, breathing got easier, and his panic subdued to calmness. His eyes darted up, meeting yours with a sharp gasp. 

“Why?” He asked, more harsh than he wanted to. He knew that soulmate’s could feel and transfer feelings, with so much more he had to discover, but he didn’t want you to do it. He was fine, suppressing his feelings from you for so long and pushing yours away from him, so why did you do it? 

“I—I could feel it,” you said, almost hesitantly as if you knew he was trying to hide it. Sam, who Bucky hadn’t noticed, spoke up from beside you.

“This is bakery girl, man! You’ve had so much of her food to taste,” Sam started, gesturing to you with a sweep of his hands. “Y’know she’s a keeper when her food tastes that good.” Bucky’s eyes felt tighter as he looked at you, sensing the change in your mood the second he did. He didn’t even feel the sick and twisted smile on his face until he went to speak. 

“So? What difference does that make? I. Don’t. Want. It,” he seethed out, grin fading out when he saw the tears in your eyes. The betrayal and hurt he felt at that moment was more painful than any bullets he had taken. Utter bullshit. The second a sob broke through your lips and you turned away, a piece of him broke. He was sure what it was—his arm, leg, nose, or whatever—but something broke. It left a stinging pain in his chest. 

“What the fuck, Bucky?” Steve hissed, grabbing and pulling him to turn by his shoulder. Steve’s anger radiated off of him in waves, making Sam slip back inside with a single glance towards your figure in the distance. “What the fuck is wrong with you?”

“Nothing,” Bucky muttered, not even meeting Steve’s eyes. He knew he screwed up, fucked up big time, but his mind was made. He was clear before with his thoughts about soulmates and the sudden appearance of his, of you, made him freak out. He wasn’t ready. He just wasn’t. 

“Well, you better find the fuck out before I fuck up some else shit of yours, James,” Steve retorted with a slip of desperation. 

“Get off of it, Steven,” Bucky tried, finally raising his eyes to meet his. Steve’s nostrils flared in anger, face turning the lightest shade of red as he grabbed Bucky by the shoulders and shook him. 

“You better get your fucking act together, Barnes. That woman didn’t deserve being called it or your shit. Your anger is displaced; you’re mad at yourself, not her. You’re a fucking asshole when you don’t think, y’know that?” Steve finished ranting and glanced at the door to the diner. “Now, we’re gonna go in there and act like you didn’t just fuck up and then, later today, you’re gonna go apologize to her. And you make sure you do that properly. The second she stepped in here and realized who she might potentially be soulmates with, she baked a whole ass cake for Morgan. In blueberry flavour because Morgan had told her so when buying her slushie. She’s nice and didn’t even bat an eye when Wade showed up.” 

“Hey,” Tony’s voice came, head peeking out of the door. His eyebrows furrowed as he took a quick sweep of the scene before sighing and stepping outside. “Go inside, Old Cap.” Steve scowled at the name, muttering something about the team being a pain in the ass before heading in with a shared glance with Bucky. Tony replaced Steve’s spot and held his hands up in mock surrender with a smirk on his face. Bucky started scowling at him. 

“Look,” Tony started, putting his hands down and wiping the smirk off his face, “I don’t know what just happened, but I’ve got some clue with the way you ran out here like your ass was on fire. I don’t know what Steve said to you, but I’m not here to tell you what to do with your life. Though, you do need to get a life. Jokes aside, I felt the same way about soulmates as you do.”

Bucky raised an eyebrow, scowl falling and a non-amused expression on his face, doubting that they thought the same way about soulmates. Tony rolled his eyes and huffed out an annoyed breath. 

“Fine, not the exact same way, but similar. I—I was a fuck up. I screwed every woman who threw themselves at me and the ones who didn’t, I tried my best to break down to the point they’d want to throw themselves at me. I—Pepper never cared much about that side of me. But she saw and saw past it. When I found out she was my soulmate, her handwriting gave her away. But I didn’t want it to be her. I couldn’t have had it be her, because she knew everything about me, from the drinking to the girls to my traumatic childhood. But—but she looked past it. She didn’t hate me or throw me out of her life. She gave me a chance.” 

Tony looked at him expectantly, visibly awaiting an answer. 

“What?” Bucky gruffed out, not seeing the point of this. He already knew that Tony was a womanizer and Pepper was a saint for putting up with him. The past few years had changed Tony in a good way and they all had Pepper and Morgan to thank. 

Tony huffed out another annoyed breath, narrowing his eyes slightly and looking at Bucky as if he should have known what he was trying to say.

“If Pepper can forgive me for mistreating her for years, Y/N can forgive you for whatever impulsive asshole move you made.”

“Y/N,” Bucky mumbled, liking the taste of your name on his lips. 

“Listen, Bucky.” Tony hesitated after that, but nodded and continued, “I’m not usually this sentimental or emotional, but I’m gonna be for your thick head to understand. Soulmates are better together. There’s this—this aching in your bones when you're not with them and—and their scent, their presence, calms you. Pepper, she makes everything feel better too. You go find her—after the party cause Morgan likes you more than anyone else—and tell her you’re sorry.”

Bucky nodded, finally realizing that the ache in his chest was just that. The feeling of being away from you was settling into his chest, deep in his bones, and his head was feeling light. It was the distance from you that was doing that to him. He was going to apologize, no matter how many times he needed to. 

He figured he had a better shot at it, knowing Pepper forgave Tony. 

———

The party was still in full blast when Bucky felt he had had enough of the building ache in his stomach. The ache seemed to worsen every time he felt a twinge of hurt, knowing exactly where it was coming from. Your tears, the anguish and hurt, all of it was digging a hole in his chest deeper and deeper. The invisible knife was twisting his insides as he gave Morgan a long hug and shook Tony’s hand. Tony gave him a smirk and pushed his glasses up his nose with the middle finger with a smug expression. Bucky ignored it, dropping his hand and walking out of the diner. 

He took the subway back, keeping his head low as the dull throb in his head started to grow. It was gone in a few seconds—you had cut your emotions from him once again. Every time he had felt your emotions transfer over to him, they went away in a few seconds like you were trying to keep him from feeling what you were. He had done the same to you for years, so he deserved it—that’s what he kept telling himself. 

All those years, he felt your emotions through the bond, but he never dwelled on those happy feelings. At first it was because Hydra pumped him up with shit that blocked his soulmate off completely. They kept him protected from your feelings, but that didn’t stop them from making him send nasty emotions your way. The rookies would take turns making him send you all kinds of emotions through the bond, some of which he was sure he would be thoroughly ashamed of if he remembered them all. 

Then it was because he felt as if he didn’t deserve to be happy. He didn’t want the happiness that seemed to radiate from you everyday, so he pushed it back harshly, letting the tiniest bit of anger seep into you. Now, it was because he couldn’t let  other feelings get the best of him. He had been going on missions, back-to-back, for three months and those missions would not have been completely with a sense of sympathy. Until Steve made him take this month off as their superior, he was blocking your emotions from reaching him. He let them seep through him a few times in the past month or so, relishing in the calmness. 

The subway pulled to his stop and he got out as soon as the doors opened. He ran up the stairs, the hole in his heart starting to close the closer he got to your bakery. You were there. If the lights and shuffling were something to go by at least. His heart was ready to crumble when he peeked through the window and saw a teenager working his way through the shop with a broom. But then the kitchen doors were swinging open with you walking through, a pained smile on your face. Your tears had dried up, but there was no mistaking the puffiness around your eyes and the red tinge to them. 

Bucky knocked and walked in, surprised to find the door unlocked. 

“Sorry, we’re—” You cut off as your eyes landed on him. You took a moment to look at him carefully, eyes narrowing in both confusion and uncertainty, before directing your voice to the teenager. “Nico, you should go home now. Your mom said you needed to be back before eight and it’s already seven.”

“Are you sure you don’t—”

You turned towards Nico with a smile, thin-lipped, but a smile nonetheless, and said, “Go before I kick you out.” Nico grinned and shrugged, but placed the broom up against the wall, a pile of dust and garbage near the end of it and pushed past Bucky with a glare. 

“Don’t fuck up,” Nico whispered as he paused to grab his hoodie from the coat rack by the door. Bucky gave a mere nod, one that was barely even there, and heard the door close behind him. 

The tension that lingered in the air after Nico left made Bucky shift uncomfortably. He could tell the sun was going, probably touching the horizon with its end and painting the sky in orange and pink hues. The shop was going from warm to cold. The chatters and people that had kept it lively were gone, a quiet humming and buzzing coming from the kitchen. The displays were empty of the pastries and goods that were up in the morning, warm and fresh. 

“Did—Did you need something?” The slightest crack in your voice made his eyes dart back to you, unaware of when they had drifted off of you in the first place. Your hands were playing with the hem of your sweater, one on the zipper and one fiddling with the end of it. Your feet shifted on the ground, going from straight to tilted to straight again. 

“I, uh, I wanted to say sorry,” Bucky started, wincing when he tasted the words on his tongue. They didn’t feel right nor were they what you deserved. After what he said and did to you—not just today, but throughout your entire life—he had to give you more. He wanted to give you more and then some. “But I don’t think that’s enough. I—I want to show you that I’m sorry. Truly. Not anything half-assed or, you know, not real. I want to make it up to you.”

He stared at you for a long second. His eyes trailed over your eyes that had widened sometime through his little ramble, going down to your lips that pressed together in a thin line, and then to your hands that were no longer fiddling but fisted up together. You lifted one to comb through your hair, exhaling a gentle breath of a laugh. Your sweater rode up on your arm, his handwriting displayed across your forearm coming into view. A small smile appeared on your lips, one that only had the tips of your lips curling upwards. 

“You can start by helping me clean up,” you teased, sniffling slightly and tilting your head at him. The smile on your face slipped as you whispered, “Just don’t do it again.” 

“I won’t,” Bucky agreed quickly, head nodding fast enough to leave him feeling lightheaded. “I just—I’m a little fucked up in the head. I’m not the best man in the world and you could definitely do better than me, so much better. So if—so if you don’t want me at all, if you want someone else—”

“I wouldn’t have stayed at the diner if I didn’t know what I was getting myself into,” you interrupted, voice soft and gentle. It was soothing enough for Bucky’s shoulders to sag with relief. He hadn’t noticed the tension in his body until then. You smiled again, a little more than the last one. “I mean, ending up at a diner with the Avengers who are basically in the media's limelight all the time, I kinda know what I was getting myself into.”

“It could have been Sam,” Bucky blurted out, trying to get a reading on you. 

You eyed him curiously as you answered, “Unless he has two soulmates, I’m pretty sure I knew who it could’ve been.” 

“What about—”

“Bucky,” you stressed, shaking your head as a breathy laugh escaped your lips. “You can’t push me away with your self-doubt or self-loathing. You’re stuck with me.”

That’s what he was doing. Pushing you to your edge with his constant self-hating and questions that would make anyone pull out their hair. He wanted you to be the one pushing him away after a slip-up, after a mistake, and be the one hurt. He wanted you to hurt him the way he hurt you. But you were smiling at him, laughing at his nagging questions, and trying to tell him that he was stuck with you. 

You’re stuck with me.

That didn’t sound too bad. 

“Bucky?” You took the few steps that were between you two and left a few inches of space between your bodies as you gazed up at him. “I know you’ve got baggage—Sam talked about his mystery friend up in that apartment building. He told him a few things here and there, letting me fill in the gaps. It didn’t take long for me to put the pieces together and chalk his friend up to being you.” 

Bucky clenched his jaw and looked away from you. A soft and warm hand touched his cheek lightly, hesitant fingers trailing on his jaw, before you pressed your palm into his cheek and guided him to look at you. 

“I’m willing to try this, Bucky, if you are.” 

Bucky’s eyes flickered between your eyes, once or twice flitting down to your lips. He could feel his chest warm and bloom with something close to adoration, resolve crumbling the longer you stared at him. His jaw unclenched under your touch and, before you could pull away from him, he curled his left hand around your wrist gently, so light that it was feather-like. He twisted his head enough to place his lips against your pulse point, lingering as he caught the scent of cinnamon. 

“I want to try,” he whispered, lips tickling the inside of your wrist as you grinned. His heart thumped against his chest in a way that made his insides melt, all in a good way. Your fingers patted his cheekbone lightly, tilting your head and narrowing your eyes slightly with a glint in them. 

“Then get cleaning.” 

#mcu #marvel cinematic universe #marvel #bucky barnes x reader #mcu x reader #marvel mcu #bucky barnes x y/n #mcu x you #mcu x y/n #avenger x reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x female reader #james bucky barnes #james barnes x female reader #james barnes x reader #james barnes x you #james barnes x y/n #james buchanan barnes #winter soldier

[nerdieforpedro]

🦴

🍓

🥤

Please!

🦴 = a piece of media that inspires my writing?

Not really one set piece. More like music in general does. I often listen to lofi beats when writing or my writing playlist to set the mood of what I’m trying to write. Or it could be music I’m listening to in the car or waiting somewhere could lead to some bullet points that become a fic. 😆

🍓= what led me to write fanfic in the first place?

Going deep here aren’t you Em? 👀 lol I’ve enjoyed writing since I was little as an extension of my love of reading. First with poems and the anime fanfiction when I actually watch more anime. Now I read more manga and don’t write fanfiction about it. If one squints on A03 - I may have dabbled in Marvel characters and actors for a short time. 🫢 The took a long pause as life happened. Sometime last year as my mental health improved so did my love of writing and I hyper focused on Pedro Pascal so here we are. 🤣 I write more the better my mood is. Maybe a bit too much background 😵

🥤= recommend and author or fic you love

Ugh just one? Dammit. 😒 I shall not! I’ll do eight because there are no favorites! Only peeps we support! And I can’t really call any of them number one I enjoy them all too much. 🥰

1. @morallyinept Pretty much anything you read of Jett’s will be beautiful, sensual, take you to a far away place or have needing to remove clothing - possibly from reading the same fic. 😆 She covers a wide variety of Pedro characters and is a wealth of knowledge on them. She also is just really talented and sweet.

2. @maggiemayhemnj Sure Ms. Payday doesn’t have a long Masterlist but every fic on there is worth reading for her turns of phases, vivid descriptions and her love of both Joel and Ezra. 💕

3. @megamindsecretlair One of my fellow black writers who keeps readers thirsty and eager for more with her Sam, Bucky and Loki series (all of which I need to catch up on or finish 👀) and is a hilarious person as she is kind.

4. @soft-girl-musings Another fellow black writer who’s “Perhaps, Perhaps, Perhaps” 1920’s or 40’s (I’m not great with telling time obviously 🙄 ) has me wondering what’s going to happen next, what is going on in that club and where else am I going to see curly haired Marcello is going to pop up at. 🤣

5. @ramblers-lets-get-ramblin The Mistress of Agnst. Her masterlist is for those who aren’t afraid to explore the darker side and stories that may not have happy endings but you’ll still feel satisfied that to finished it. To feel another type of satisfaction, you’ll need to read her smut and seek your other completion there. ☺️ You’ll be thankful for both rides.

6. @pedroshotwifey A newer moot to me who has equal parts smut, agnst and dabs of darkness in there. What can I say? I like dark fics if they’re just right. Like I like my crime dramas and cop procederals. 🤣 She and I have a good time supporting each other and exchanging thots. Her “To The Flame” series has set the reader up for what may be a spectacular fall or maybe she’ll find her way out? Only she knows.

7. @magpiepills Ezra’s second wife (because @morallyinept is his first wife and I think @maggiemayhemnj is the paramour - because it sounds fancy) The amount of filthy things she’s had him do both with one arm and two is something everyone should read twice. I also especially enjoyed her fic “Aquarius” which a whore version of Javier Peña that spoke strongly to me. Or maybe parts of me, let’s not split hairs. 🤭

8. @angelofsmalldeath-codeine She’ll say she’s not a writer. BUT as all writers know, we don’t do very well if someone isn’t reading stuff we toss out into the ether. Hemmy is as supportive as they come, reblogging and offering many a thot as both the High Chancellor of the Horny Delegation and as a friend. ❤️ Plus she supports my very soft bois Dieter and Javi G. 😆 She I think was one of the main reasons I wrote more of “Weddings 101 with Dieter.” She asked me something along the lines of, “is there more to this? This is a very cool or unique premise.” As she well knows, just tell me I did something well and I’m happy as a pearl in a clam. 🤣

Fanfic author ask game

Thanks for the ask Em! Just know I pretty much write paragraphs because I gotta explain. 🤭 I’m Nerdie and I’m wordy. 😚 I had to make one bad joke. You have to be able to tell it’s me.

#fanfic authors #fanfic author ask game #fanfiction #such fun #i wanted to make sure I answered as best I could #there’s so many more writers I could mention #pedro pascal #pedro pascal characters #pedro pascal fanfiction

[firstelevens]

traveling on (and it won't be long)

sam/bucky | alternate universe (formula one au) | 2.6k words | rated g

The drivers from Team Stark get invited to the Met Gala and produce some content for their socials on the way. It goes about as well as you'd expect.

My beloved @sesamestreep texted me yesterday about the F1 AU boys attending the Met Gala, and naturally her wish is my command. Enjoy!

( also on AO3 )

Over the course of his career, Bucky has done no shortage of things that made him look stupid. There was his exclusively-cavorting-with-young-royals-on-yachts phase, the two years (pre-Alpine, of course) where his Instagram was exclusively thirst traps, that one summer when he decided to go blond…all terrible choices, in retrospect, and all things that he regrets. One thing he can say for all those phases, though, is that at least they were fun at the time.

He would give anything to be able to say that about today.

‘If one more person tells me to relax, I’m going to lie down on the floor and scream,’ he texts Steve, because Sam’s probably on lap twenty of a race right now, and Becca would probably just tell him to suck it up.

‘How are you still this bad at being on camera?’ Steve replies.

‘Peter used to just let me argue with Sam and hit record. These guys are making me read from CUE CARDS.’

Steve just sends him a laughing emoji in response, because he’s a traitor. (But then he follows up with a picture of Ellie and her baby brother playing with fingerpaint to cheer him up, because apparently siding with Steve in a fight against two boys twice their size was the right call when Bucky made it thirty years ago.)

It’s his own fault, maybe. If Bucky had spent less of his last year on the grid antagonizing the higher ups at Tuono, Rhodey and Nat would have had to spend considerably less time trying to placate them, and then they wouldn’t have had the leverage they needed to get Bucky to agree to this. 

The director calls for everyone to get set up for another take, and Bucky stands on his mark again, shaking out his shoulders and trying to reach for the charming version of him from the yacht parties and all those videos with Sam. When they call action, Bucky looks at the camera, pretends that it’s Sam, and lets the smile spread across his face as he reads from the cards: “I’m Bucky Barnes and today is the first Sunday in May. It’s time to get ready with me and Team Stark to go to the 2026 Met Gala.”

He doesn’t actually fall to the floor in relief when the director declares, after eighteen takes, that they’ve finally got it, but it’s a near thing.

After the cue cards, they film Olivia as she talks the viewers through Bucky and Sam and Joaquín’s outfits for the events, and Bucky just has to ask her questions and let her talk, which is a relief. Bucky gets about fifteen seconds after that to check the results of the race in Montreal and text Sam an emphatic, ‘CONGRATULATIONS I LOVE YOU SO MUCH’ immediately followed by an equally sincere, ‘they’re making me film my skincare routine you owe me so big after this.’

He knows that Sam won’t get around to checking his phone until much later, not until after the cooldown room and interviews and the presentation of the trophies, but still. If Bucky can’t pull him aside and kiss the hell out of him in a quiet corner the way did after all their races last year, the least he can do is be sure there’s a text waiting for whenever Sam gets to it.

Then he trudges to the bathroom vanity, where there’s a ring light and a camera set up by the mirror and a sound guy standing in the shower, reminds himself that he’s doing this because of how much he loves Sam, and launches into an explanation of the facial cleanser he uses and how important hydration is for race car drivers.

By the time the crew packs up for the night, they’ve filmed skincare, haircare (an overnight mask made by a New Orleans small business), and gotten footage of Bucky doing a Korean face mask (he looked ridiculous, but Olivia did one with him in solidarity, because she’s the best). As Bucky closes the door behind the last person to leave, he looks around the suite, now ringing in its emptiness, and falls into bed without even turning off the lights.

—

It’s not until morning that Bucky even remembers to check his phone. He’d plugged it in to charge far away from where they were filming, to avoid the temptation to check for replies from Sam every few minutes, and he’d been too tired to retrieve it at night. He swipes through his texts as he sits up in bed: selfies that he and Olivia took with the face masks on, pictures from Steve of Ellie and Jamie covered in paint after their art session, and then a stack of notifications from Sam. The earliest ones are from last night, a series of hearts and a ‘ thank you, baby’ in response to Bucky’s congratulations, then laughter at Bucky’s unwitting transformation into a skincare influencer, and a message that says, ‘guess I’ll have to think of some way to repay you for everything’ followed by that weird smirky emoji that shouldn’t make Bucky blush as hard as it does.

The rest are just updates: a good night text from when Sam went to bed, a message from around seven AM about a weird dream he’d had involving a tortoise, and then messages about heading for the airport and getting on the plane. Bucky replies to the very last one and then sets off in search of some kind of caffeine before the cameras come back in.

He doesn’t realize until much later that his ‘love you, see you soon’ text to Sam was only half true. They’re doing his makeup—eyeliner is involved, enough that he’s irrepressibly reminded of the era where his style icon was Pete Wentz—when Bucky notices that there’s only one camera in the room today instead of three. When he asks about it, the makeup artist tells him they had to split up the cameras between the three rooms, which she appreciated because she’d been worried that they would get in her way.

Bucky says something about how it must be hard to weave around all of that and do such delicate work, and she agrees, but really all that he’s thinking about is the fact that there are two other rooms. Some part of his brain had just assumed that Sam would be here getting ready alongside him, that they’d have at least gotten to see each other while being corralled into makeup and hair and wardrobe. He knows that Sam’s outfit has enough architectural detail that they can’t share a car there, but he’d hoped that they could at least swing a couple minutes with each other before he had to relinquish Sam to his adoring public. (And they are adoring, not that Bucky can blame them.) Something in Bucky’s chest sinks a little bit, but he swallows it and keeps chatting, very aware of the camera pointed directly at his face.

As it turns out, there’s a staggered schedule for Sam and Bucky and Joaquín to finish getting ready and head out, and Bucky’s up first. Olivia sweeps into his room right as they’re putting the finishing touches on his hair, one last tweak of the flowers tucked into the bun at the back of his head and a spritz of hairspray for the hair that’s down and brushing his shoulders as he turns his head.

“You look amazing,” she says, beaming at him. He grins and thanks her, then grins even wider when she takes a step forward and adjusts the lapels of his jacket, fussing with how the necklaces sit and adjusting the way his cape drapes over his shoulder.

He steps back for final approval when she’s done, turning to the side so she can get a better look at the cape. “Am I up to your standards? I won’t bring shame to your good name if people know you’re my stylist?”

“With your jacket collection? Never,” laughs Olivia. 

She gives his hand a squeeze before she shoos him out the door, and he calls over his shoulder, “Go get dressed already! How are you gonna upstage us if you’re not on time?”

“There’s one person here who’s gonna be doing the upstaging,” she says, “and it’s not me or you.”

As Bucky is ushered out towards the elevators, he sees Peter at the end of the hall, holding the door open for someone carrying an oversized garment bag. There’s a little bit of coral fabric peeking out, just like the material of Sam’s outfit, and for a second, Bucky thinks about making a break for the room. He’s an adult, he reasons. It’s not like they could stop him if he ran.

But then the elevator opens, and the camera operator gets in first, immediately turning to get a shot of Bucky at the doors, and he resigns himself to waiting a little bit longer as he steps in.

Bucky has attended exactly one other Met Gala before, when he was twenty-four and dating a British model who was maybe also some kind of duchess. He’d just been scenery back then, dressed all in black so as to avoid taking away from her outfit, which had involved so many ruffles in the skirt that she couldn’t even sit down in the car on the way over. As the door opens and he steps out of the car, Bucky finds himself wishing he was that invisible again, just for a second.

Then he remembers how hard Olivia has worked for months now, how excited the young designers had been when the team had gotten in touch about dressing the three of them. There simply isn’t a universe where Bucky allows himself to let them down, so takes a deep breath and straightens his back and steps out onto the red carpet.

Once he’s high up enough on the stairs, he undoes the tie that’s holding up the train of his cape, hopes that the damn thing works, and keeps walking. He only knows that the fabric unfolded properly when he hears the soft noise of silk flowers tumbling out in his wake, spreading out into a train as he goes. He tries not to look too pleased with himself and hopes to God that it was the right angle for photos. 

He’s just made it up to where people are being greeted and interviewed by a young woman who looks familiar. He’s seen her face on posters, and though he doesn’t know her name, she knows his. He tries not to feel too bad about it when she tells him how much she enjoyed this season of Need for Speed , and he opens his mouth to thank her when a ripple of gasps carry down the stairs, loud enough to be heard over shouting photographers and the ambient noise of so many people in one place.

“Did someone fall?” Bucky asks, looking ahead to where people are posing on the steps, but he doesn’t see anything out of the ordinary there.

“I’m pretty sure they’re looking that way,” says the interviewer, grinning as she points down at the very bottom of the stairs.

He turns to see what she’s pointing at and feels his breath catch in his chest, a second too late to join the chorus.

Bucky has only ever seen Sam’s outfit in parts: sketches on the wall of Olivia’s studio and individual pieces tried on during fittings, mockups shared on video calls and swatches of fabric pinned up next to a Botticelli painting. They were all too disjointed to form any kind of picture, and Bucky had trusted Olivia enough to know that the effect was worth waiting for.

Now, as he looks down towards Sam, he’s not sure that ‘worth waiting for’ does him any kind of justice.

His arms are bare, rings and bracelets glittering on his hands as a gold filigree cuff wraps around his bicep. The coral and gold fabric of his vest and pants must be tailored down to the millimeter for how they hug his body, and there’s a gold headpiece creating a halo around him like the one Bucky sometimes thinks he might have in real life.

And though Sam sometimes feels to Bucky larger than life—in his talent, in his kindness, in the vastness of his love—now he looks the part, too, the cape that’s settled on his shoulders arcing high up behind him in two curves like an enormous set of angel’s wings. It’s layer upon layer of soft, floaty fabric, coral giving way to pinks and purples and eventually a deep ocean blue that just sweeps the floor as Sam walks.

There are flashbulbs going off and people murmuring excitedly around him, but all Bucky can do is stare at Sam, watching as he jokes with a photographer and throws his head back in a delighted laugh. Bucky has taken his first step down before he even realizes it, then stops where he is.

He thinks again of the last time he was on this carpet, of how the greatest worry was that he would be a distraction and he was kept well clear of the pictures until it was decided that he could come back in. He couldn’t do that to Sam, not when he’s so utterly glorious a picture all on his own.

“He looks incredible,” says the interviewer, who Bucky really should apologize to. He’s about to do it, too, to say sorry and try to answer at least one of her questions before moving on, but his eyes are still on Sam, and he knows that he should tear them away except…except…

Except now it’s Sam who’s looking up at him , eyes wide. He would feel the weight of that gaze from a mile away, would know in an instant that it was Sam whose eyes were tracing the lines of his body. He would know the smile that spreads across Sam’s face, too:  slow and satisfied and with its own gravitational pull, for all that Bucky can’t turn away from it. 

The smile would be enough for Bucky, really. He’s well aware that he ought to be moving on, that people are looking impatiently at him from their various stations, but then Sam catches Bucky’s eye, raises a hand, and beckons him down.

There’s no way that people are supposed to be doing this, thinks Bucky, as he hurries down the stairs, but there’s no way that he’ll lose even a second of being at Sam’s side, not if he can help it.

He’s almost tempted to hover a few paces away, just so he’s out of shot, but Sam extends a hand to him before Bucky even makes it to the last step, interlacing their fingers as soon as Bucky’s hand lands in his.

“Fancy seeing you here,” he says, all warmth as he pulls Bucky towards him.

Bucky shrugs, not even bothering to hide his smile. “Well, you know, I didn’t have anything else planned tonight, so I thought I’d see what the fuss was about.”

Sam raises their joined hands and kisses Bucky’s knuckles, his eyes never leaving Bucky’s own. “You want to find out together?”

“Always.”

—

The next morning finds about five dozen texts from Becca and Steve on Bucky’s phone, every possible angle on Bucky’s awestruck face as he looked at Sam on the red carpet. None of them are particularly flattering, his jaw hanging open and his eyes wide in pure wonder.

Still, Bucky thinks, as Sam curls an arm around him and wordlessly grumbles about being woken up too early, this time, maybe he’s okay with looking a little bit stupid.

#happy first monday in may y'all #sambucky #sambucky fanfic #sambucky f1 AU #my fic #down to the WIRE but I finished it while it was still temporally relevant so THERE #sesamestreep

[repressedqueen]

Unexpected part III- DOUBT

Paring: SexWorker!Bucky x reader

Word count: ~4.180

Warnings: smut, insecurities, anxiety (not extreme)

Summary (part 3): There is still time to come around and run home. You simply can’t bring yourself to. Instead, your hand, on each own volition, reaches forward and knocks the wooden door twice.

“One second” you hear his voice.

There is something about the sense of hearing, that can so powerfully confirm reality. Up until that moment, there was a part of you that believed you didn’t actually get your ass off the couch to head to a brothel at 3.00 am, but fell asleep instead, and you were currently in a dream. You are about to see Bucky again and this simple fact makes your heart beat in an inhuman rhythm. You still have time to run! your inner voice tries one last time, but then, the door opens.

or, first came the Trust, then came the Doubt. These two keep working backward. Let's see where that will lead them...

A/N: Guess who is back? SexWorker!Bucky baby!!!

I thought I was done with the story after completing it after more than two years but I guess I couldn't stay away from my two sweethearts. I want to thank all the people who expressed their love for this story and encouraged me to believe in myself. I hope this new chapter meets your expectations 😉

[Side note 1: if this is the first time you come across this story, I HIGHLY recommend to read the first two parts before reading this one, since this story is mostly character driven (even though it's quite smutty, I know it sounds like a paradox) and only then the emotions of the characters will make sense. But that's totally up to you 🙂

Side note 2: from now on, the chapters will most likely be written in present tense since that's what I currently feel more comfortable writing in.]

Series Masterlist

The door closes one more time and Bucky is alone in his room again. His workspace, where he can escape into the safety of a role instead of the dread of nightmares. Where he is James, not Bucky.

He throws himself on the bed, reaching for his phone. 3,00 am. Three more hours to go and he already feels exhausted. He used to stay energetic until dawn. His job may be frowned upon, but he doesn’t give one shit; he enjoys it. He likes the idea of giving others pleasure instead of pain; instead of death.

Lately, he tends to count the hours until he is off. It must be just a phase he keeps telling himself.

The light of the bedside lamp flickers again, getting his attention. He sees it then, the gold bracelet, carefully caught around the little lamp’s tube. It fell from her wrist at some point during that night and he found it later, next to the foot of the bed.

He remembers then.

Ηe was Bucky once, in that same room; With her. Bucky. With all his back story, all the burden, the guilt. And it was okay.

Nothing has been the same after that night and he can’t forget it, no matter how hard he tries.

He didn’t give the bracelet to the lost and found, like he was supposed to. He liked having something of hers, just like she had something of his.

He let the pad of his finger run across the cold chain and a sudden thought appeared in his mind: maybe the reason he stopped enjoying sex with many women was because he only wanted to make love to one…

Two hesitant knocks on the door drew him out of the processing of that idea.

keep reading on AO3

#unexpected #BUCKY X READER #BUCKY BARNES X READER #BUCKY BARNES AU #THE WINTER SOLDIER #BUCKY BARNES #READER INSERT #BUCKY BARNES SMUT #BUCKY BARNES FANFICTION #BUCKY BARNES X YOU #SMUT #SMUT AND FLUFF #BUCKY AND READER AU #FANFICTION #MY STORY #MY WRITING