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sarahowritesostucky · 3 months

Text

📖"Temporary Custody"

Rating: Explicit

Pairing: Steve x ofc x Bucky; Steve x Bucky

Word Count: 3620

Tags: Dom/sub, bdsm au, dom Bucky, sub reader, hurt/comfort, enemies to lovers, gay sex'n'stuff, straight sex'n'stuff, Steve being a literal Golden Retriever, mental health issues, dub-con, forced submission, referenced childhood abuse and resultant mental health issues, bakery au, m/f/m, gentle domination, total power exchange

Summary: The stigma and shame of being a submissive has kept Mary unfulfilled and in the closet her whole life, until an inciting incident leads to Bucky and Steve taking her in and giving her everything she was always too afraid to ask for.

Trigger warnings: This story contains themes of eating disordered behavior, body image issues, childhood abuse, self-harm, and alcohol abuse.

Wait! I haven't read an earlier chapter of this fic! Story Masterpost

6. Somethin' with Bananas

Steve

Steve wakes up to Bucky spooning him, pressing his morning wood against his ass. He hums with his eyes still closed, enjoying the feeling. “Mmm, g’morning.”

Hands slide onto his hips. “Mornin’ Sunshine.”

Steve smiles. “Sunshine” is one of Bucky’s favorite pet names for him. Steve is rather fond of it too, after so many years together. His husband has a knack for making him feel special like that. “What’re you doin', Buck?” he warns softly, still smiling because he likes the feeling of being explored, even if they can't take this far right now because of—

“She left for work a while ago,” Bucky murmurs, the answer to a question that Steve hasn’t asked. Alone time doesn’t happen as much as it used to, these days. "Left a bunch of baking stuff out on the counter. There's a note threatening us with mortal peril if we eat any of her bananas."

"Hmm." Steve yawns deeply and wiggles his butt back against his husband's noticeable hardon. "Whas'she makin'?"

"Dunno. Somethin' with bananas." Bucky’s hand slides to the juncture of Steve’s legs. He palms the half hard line of his cock from over his briefs, massaging the bulge as it grows. Steve moans a little and tips his head back to Bucky’s shoulder, a wordless request for kisses. Bucky starts lavishing his neck with attention while his hand continues its slow work.

Steve loves moments like this. Early morning, the sun barely out and the world quiet, the bedroom air still and thick from sleep; easy, instinctual fucking; simple and not complicated, just the two of them loving on each other. He inhales a little sharper when Bucky finally slides his hand under the waistband of his underwear. “Yeah,” he whispers.

“Mmhm.” Bucky kisses his neck. “This what you wanted, Honey?” His hand is wrapped flush around Steve now, skin on skin. He strokes once up and down and gives a squeeze, starts up a slow, tight rhythm.

“Oh.” Steve bites his lip, eyes closed as he just feels what Bucky’s doing to him. “Mm. Mmhm. S’real good.” He shivers when Bucky’s thumb swipes at his cockhead, spreading the wetness around and pressing firm against his slit. “Fuck …”

“Always were a leaker,” Bucky says lowly. “You get so wet, Honey.”

“Buck,” Steve whines. He loves Bucky’s talk in bed but he’s never been able to handle it. It turns him into a pitiful mess, every time.

Bucky

Bucky just chuckles, knowing the effect he has on him. He’s Dominant. Winding Steve around his little finger comes naturally to him, and Steve can’t say he doesn’t like it. “You were making pretty sounds in your sleep,” Bucky says, murmuring the words in between kisses on Steve’s neck. “Moaning and moving your hips a little.” He demonstrates, pushing his own hips up against Steve’s ass. Steve makes an embarrassed, whimpery sort of noise that goes straight to Bucky’s cock, and he shushes him. “Shh, no. It was hot, Stevie. You were feeling real good in your sleep, huh?”

“Y-yeah.”

“What were you dreaming about?” Bucky presses his thigh forward, between Steve’s legs, crowding him that much closer. “Hm?”

“Her,” Steve says breathily. “I … h-her.”

“Mary?” Bucky grins against the skin of his neck. “Having dirty dreams about our girl, huh?”

Steve moans—whether at Bucky calling her ‘their girl’, or at the way his other hand is now reaching down to cup Steve’s sac, isn’t clear. Bucky gives a gentle squeeze and tug, then rolls the weight of his testicles in his palm. Steve, who’s always been keen on having his balls played with, moans louder and nods against the pillow. “Didn’t mean to,” he says, as if he needs to defend his character.

Bucky grins like a shark and nips his earlobe. “Course not. You just couldn’t help it, could you? She’s always there, moaning around bites of cream filled pastries, showing off her ass in those leggings—”

Steve groans.

“—Giving us attitude every day like she wants a spanking, but dropping so sweet by the end’a the night.” He can see pink spreading around to the back of Steve’s neck and shoulders now. His Stevie colors so easily. Bucky licks delicately along the shell of his ear and whispers, “Tell me. Tell me what you did to her in the dream.” Steve moans and doesn’t answer for a long while, maybe too distracted by Bucky’s hand that’s still stroking him slowly. Bucky stills, opens his hand and presses Steve’s cock up against his stomach. “Steve,” he warns. “Tell me.”

“... Wasn’t me,” Steve mumbles, embarrassed. “It was you. You were touching her, fucking her.”

Bucky’s guts tighten in arousal. “Oh?” he breathes. “You like thinkin’ about that? Like thinking about me laying her out? Her spreading her legs for me right here on this bed?” Steve groans and nods, whining impatiently and humping forward for more. Bucky chuckles and takes him in hand again, squeezing his shaft and fondling his balls. They’re tighter now, drawn up closer to his body as he gets more worked up. “So?” Bucky needles, when he still hasn’t gotten an answer. “Is that what you want?”

“Bucky, nngh, Yes, alright?”

“Mmhm.” He chuckles softly and nuzzles Steve’s neck, enjoying his husband’s flustered state. “But you know, I think I’d like to watch you.” He can just picture it: Steve’s muscled, strong body moving over her soft curves, his big hands holding her open gently—because everything Steve does is gentle—while he makes her cum on his cock. “Yeah. You like that idea, Big guy? Me too. I wanna watch this big fat dick—” he squeezes his fist on Steve— “plowing her sloppy, making her cum so good she even cries a little bit.” Steve whines again, and Bucky hums in agreement. “Mmhm. It’d be so hot, Stevie.”

Steve squirms against him in distress. “I, I’ve never … With girls I mean. I’m not … I’ve never …” he peters off, and Bucky’s got no idea what he’s saying.

“What?” He frowns and ruts his erection against the cleft of Steve’s ass for a little relief. “What’re you talking about, Baby? You’ve been with women before. College?”

Steve shakes his head against the pillow. “No, I mean I … I don’t know what to do. To make ‘em feel good. I’m … not good at it.”

Bucky actually stops what he’s doing. Steve grunts at the lack of touch, but Bucky just hushes him and pulls on his shoulder, urging him to turn over. “Hey. C’mere. Look at me.” Steve’s face is indeed colored pink when he turns to lie facing Bucky. His eyes flick up briefly, but dart away again, shy. Bucky’s heart squeezes. “Oh, Honey,” he says, bringing a hand up to cup Steve’s jaw. “Who told you that?” He thinks of murdering whatever coed bitch might’ve made Steve feel self-conscious.

Steve looks mortified. “Nobody did. Just … I could tell. The times I was with ‘em. I couldn’t make them, you know, cum.” He looks so ashamed as he admits it, and Bucky wants to grab him and kiss all over his entire face.

“Aw, Steve,” he coos. “Is that it? You’re nervous about being with a woman again? Not confident?”

Steve nods. He tucks himself against Bucky’s body and presses his face in his neck, hiding there. “Women are hard,” he mumbles. “I like ‘em, but it’s not easy.”

Bucky chuckles a little. “Yeah, that’s for sure. But it’s not that bad, baby. You just gotta know a few basics. Gotta take it real slow and feel them out, find out what makes her feel good. Every girl’s different. That’s the beauty in it.”

Steve grunts and ruts up against him, their cocks knocking together between their bellies. “Tell me?” he asks, eager and sweet. “Please, Buck? Tell me how.”

Bucky feels like half the blood leaves his brain, his dick throbbing anew. “Fuck,” he breathes, crazy turned on at the idea. “You want me to teach you, Stevie? Teach you how to get her crying? Dripping wet? How to touch her so good you make her cum?”

Steve shivers and nods, grinding his forehead into Bucky’s shoulder in embarrassment. “Yeah, yeah I want you to. Want you to teach me.”

Bucky pulls Steve’s head up to make him look at him. His face is pinched—embarrassed but wanting. Bucky curses. “Fuck. Yeah, yeah baby I’ll teach you how. C’mere.” He moves up the bed, pulling Steve’s meaty shoulders to get him to follow, directing him to sit in his lap, back to chest as Bucky props them up against the headboard. He spreads his legs wide to accommodate Steve’s bulk, wrapping his arms around him from behind. “My little overachiever,” he murmurs. “Such a Boy Scout, always wanting to be the best you can be.”

Steve huffs. “Don’t think they gave out merits for eating pussy,” he quips, uncharacteristically lewd.

Bucky barks out a laugh in delight. “Well pay attention, Sweetheart. You’re about to earn that badge.” Steve shudders against him, but he’s leaning back against Bucky, slumped just a little lower in his lap. He’s ready to listen, and Bucky’s fucking hot at the chance to tell. “First thing you gotta know,” he says, speaking delicately and smoothing his hands over Steve’s sides. “Is forget what you’ve seen in porn. They make that shit for us, not them. It’s all fake. No better way to make a girl miserable than to go pounding into her or whatever else.”

Steve makes a questioning noise, and God bless him, Bucky knows instantly that this is news to the big dummy. “But …” he hedges.

“No buts, Honey.” Bucky kisses his ear. “You gotta be so gentle. Always start soft, always go slow. Start that way and pay attention to her reactions.” He skims his fingertips up Steve’s ribs, tickling lightly over to his pecs and back down, making him gasp. “Yeah,” Bucky hums, “Just like that. She might be quiet at first, girls don’t moan all loud right off the bat. They don’t get worked up as fast as we do. They take time.”

Steve nods, panting a little as he listens to him. “W-what then?” he asks.

“Listen to her breathing, the sounds she makes. She’ll start breathing heavier when you’ve got her feeling good, start making little sounds without even realizing she’s doin’ it.” Steve looses a tiny whimper and Bucky grins. “Yeah, just like that.” He reaches down and finds Steve’s cock again, and god it’s sexy how wet his fella can get. He strokes him a few times, just languidly, letting the precum guide the slide of his fist. Not hurrying. Showing Steve what he means when he says ‘slow’.

“Oh,” Steve breathes, sounding gone for it.

“Yeah,” Bucky agrees. “And then when she starts moving her hips?” He presses his crotch into the small of Steve’s back. “Just rubbing herself against you or humping up in the air a little? Oh yeah, that’s when she’s into it.” He brings one hand up to cradle Steve’s pec. “Girls are more sensitive here than we are,” he tells him. He’s looking over Steve’s shoulder now, eyeing up what he’s doing. He flicks his thumb over the nipple—so freaking small and petal pink where Bucky’s are darker. And he’s so responsive, the nipple pebbling up with hardly any effort on Bucky’s part. “Mmhm,” Bucky hums approvingly. “You want to try different things. You can just hold ‘em …” he uses both hands and cups the meat of Steve’s chest, giving a proprietary squeeze. Steve moans and Bucky smiles. “Yeah. But not too hard. Treat her tits like they’re something delicate, somethin’ special.” He makes the motion to Steve’s pecs like he would do to lightly bounce a woman’s breasts in his palms. “And Mary, she’s got smaller tits. A nice, healthy handful, just like you.”

Steve whines and squirms impatiently in his lap. Bucky glances down to check, and sees Steve’s cock; abandoned on his stomach, dark, and leaking. It’s so heavy and thick, the foreskin drawn halfway down the head, showcasing the shiny pink tip of him. Bucky curses softly. Fuck, but he wants to wring an orgasm out of that cock like ten minutes ago. But he forces himself to stay the course.

“When you use your mouth on her nipples,” he whispers, voice soft like velvet in Steve’s ear, “You can lick. Or nibble a little.” He mimics each option with a stroke and then a pinch of his fingers on Steve’s nipples, flicking out with his tongue to get the shell of Steve’s ear. “But I’ll tell you what: most of ‘em like it best when you suck.” He uses all five fingertips drawn together to pull gently at the peaks of Steve’s chest, and Steve makes a hurt, wanting sound. “Yeah,” Bucky agrees. “Suck her nipples. Then fit as much of her in your mouth as you can and suck that too.” He takes pity on Steve and reaches back down for his cock. Steve cries out, and Bucky gentles him. “Shh sh sh. Remember: slow.”

Steve groans, his tight hips flexing and pushing his cock up into the curl of Bucky’s fist. “Buck, please.”

“It’s not about you,” Bucky chides. “You’re a man. You get to cum so easy and all the time. You gotta help her get there, give her what she deserves.”

Steve sobs a little, so worked up from all the teasing, but he falls back into Bucky, relaxing against his chest and laying himself open for Bucky to continue. Pride and adoration for his man well up in Bucky at the show of submission. “Good,” he praises, giving an extra indulgent twist on the next upstroke. Steve’s foreskin moves with the motions, making soft, wet noises with all the precum he’s leaking. Bucky hums appreciatively. “Yeah, lookit that.” He draws his hand all the way up, tight, and then dips his thumb into the folds, rubbing into that wetness, against the sensitive head. “If you’re doing it right, touching her enough, she’ll be wet by now,” he says. “But you still shouldn’t go for her pussy yet. Not yet.”

“What … what else?” Steve asks muzzily, like he can’t think of anything else to do that doesn’t involve his dick getting jerked off or sticking it in a hypothetical pussy.

“Tease her,” Bucky says. “Run your hands all over her body, all over her soft skin.”

Steve sighs happily. “I like how soft they are. Smooth.”

Hearing Steve talk about what he likes about women makes Bucky’s dick throb, and he grinds it against Steve’s lower back for some relief. “Mmhm,” he agrees, moving his hands up and down the skin of Steve’s ribcage, his belly, grabbing on at his hips and giving a proprietary jostle. “Dig your fingers into her, gentle but insistent. Let her feel how much you love her body.”

“Now?” Steve asks.

“Not yet,” Bucky whispers.

“Fuck. Bucky.”

“Tease her,” he insists, ignoring Steve’s pleading. He slides his hands down Steve’s thighs and inwards, pulling them apart. Steve moans and spreads them wide. “Exactly,” Bucky says. “You want to touch her here. Run your hands all over, so close to where she wants it. Remember, if you’ve been doing this right, she’ll be wet by now.” He goes back and strokes the wetness along Steve’s shaft. “Sink down between her legs and kiss her thighs—you’ll smell it.”

“Oh my god.”

Bucky smiles, in love with his husband for how easily he comes apart under his care. He traces down to the base of Steve’s cock, making a vee with two fingers and rubbing the skin on either side. “Put pressure on her mound, really close but not touching where she wants it. Not yet.” His other hand slides down and delicately traces the seam of Steve’s sac. “Tease her, trace her folds. Get a little bit of that wetness and rub it around to make her even more sensitive. And then …” He blows gently on Steve’s ear. Steve moans. “Just like that. You want to wait. Don’t give her your mouth until she’s whining and shovin’ up at you for it.”

“Nngh,”

Bucky chuckles and circles the wet pad of his finger over one testicle and then the other. He nudges at Steve’s taut sac and whispers in his ear. “Push her lips apart.”

Steve is breathing hard through his nose, tense, his dick bobbing rock hard and angry in the air. Bucky has mercy on him and reaches for it, and Steve chokes out a sob of relief at only the slightest touch.

Bucky kisses his temple soothingly. “Shh. Here. Riiight here.” He holds the head between his thumb and fingers and starts jacking just the tip of him, foreskin tugging and gliding in that way that he knows feels amazing for Steve. “Right above her sweet spot, see? You rub on her like this, up and down, back and forth. Work the hood over her clit juuust like this.”

Steve makes a debased groan at the echo of what Bucky’s saying, and how he’s working Steve’s foreskin over the head of his dick. “Fuck, fuck,” he hisses.

“Yeah, you’re close. She’s soaked by now. You think it’s time to give her more?”

“Bucky. Yes, yes, please.” His hips are straining upwards but he lets his head loll back on Bucky’s shoulder, open for what he’ll do next. “Please,” he begs.

“Now this is important, baby, so pay attention,” Bucky says. “Some women like a mouth on ‘em down there, some don’t. Some do, but they have a hang up over how they think they look or taste or something.” Steve makes a sad noise at that, matching Bucky’s opinion that: yeah, women shouldn’t worry so much. Pussy is just generally fucking awesome. “Tell her how much you love it,” he says. “The taste of her, the shape of her lips. Make her feel pretty and wanted.” He’s fondling Steve’s balls anew as he says this, rubbing and rolling them, then cupping his whole palm over them and dipping behind to dig fingertips into his taint. “Come on, Stevie,” he goads, “Let me hear it. Tell me what you’d say.”

It takes Steve a few tries before he can pull enough of his brain out of his dick to rasp, “S’fucking gorgeous p-pussy. So … so wet. Can I lick it Honey, huh? Please lemme lick it. Wanna taste that sweet cunt.”

Bucky gasps, shocked and delighted at Steve’s dirty talk. “Oh, Stevie,” he groans. “Baby. Fuck, yes. I didn’t know you had it in you.” He wraps his hand fully around Steve’s cock and starts jerking him off fast, fast enough that it’s obvious he’s finally aiming to make Steve cum, and Steve chokes on a relieved heave of breath.

"Yes! Oh, thank you!”

Bucky attacks Steve’s neck with his mouth, biting and smearing spit and scraping his teeth over the wet skin. He growls as he watches his fist working furiously over Steve's red, hard dick. “Suck her clit while you fuck her on your fingers,” he rasps. “Tell her she’s a good girl, tell her to ride your face, grind down on your hand. Make sure she knows she’s allowed to let go.”

Steve cries out, guttural and loud like he always gets when his pleasure is cresting. “Bucky, Buck. Honey, oh. F-fuck, m’close.”

“Mmhm. Thaat’s it, Princess,” he says, pitching his voice just so and using that name so that Steve knows. Knows he’s talking to her.

Steve whines, his whole body tight and straining into Bucky’s grip.

“Curl your fucking fingers in her,” Bucky growls. “She’s close. Don’t slow down. Don’t even speed up. She likes what you’re doing now, so don’t you dare fucking change a thing.”

“Bucky!”

“That’s it, Princess, just like that. You’re almost there.”

“Fuck, fuck … ssshit …”

“Ride Daddy’s hand, fuck back on it. Good girl.”

Steve jerks and shouts, cock pulsing in telltale contractions, before searing ropes of come shoot up his stomach and all over Bucky’s hand. “Oh, oh, oh!” He grunts through it with gorgeous sounds, and Bucky’s so in love with the sight of it that he’s not roleplaying anymore when he purrs, “Fucking beautiful, Sweetheart.”

Steve slumps when it’s over, still panting from the pleasure. Bucky eases off, sets his wet and slowly softening dick gently against his stomach. He moves them, guiding Steve to turn over and lie out on his front. He shoves Steve’s legs together and straddles them, swipes his hand that’s covered in Steve’s release into the tight space between his thighs, wetting him up. He growls viciously, pent up and rock hard and ready to fucking cum. He ruts into the wet clench of Steve’s thick thighs, fucking him like he’s got a loose, easy cunt. “Fuck, baby,” he grits, close within a matter of minutes. He chases his orgasm and collapses onto Steve’s broad back when it hits, grinding in hard one last time and shouting loud and guttural with how goddamn good it feels. “Fuck! Ughn, f-ffuuck.”

He comes down heaving, panting against Steve’s skin. Steve is strong enough that he can roll out from under his weight, and he pulls Bucky into his arms and draws his head onto his chest. Bucky goes gratefully, happy to have Steve’s firm pecs as a pillow. “God, honey,” he breathes, wrung out. Steve makes a noise of agreement. They just lie there together, sweaty and spent, catching their breath for a long time.

“... Buck?”

“Yeah?”

“… You’re a good teacher.”

Bucky laughs and crawls up to kiss Steve on the mouth. “Yeah,” he says when they part. “But that wasn’t even the main event.” Steve looks confused for a second, before Bucky slyly clarifies: “You still gotta fuck her. And you know you want to make her cum at least twice.”

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nexusnyx · 1 year

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to my sweetheart

40s!bucky barnes x f!reader [8.2k] summary: The promise of a weekend home hangs over Bucky's head like the sun used to shine on sweet summer days, illuminating everything in life. It's all planned out in his head: the place he'll take you to, the things he wants to talk about, the hundreds of ways he needs to touch you. It's all planned. A taste of how it'll be when the storm passes—he's ready for it. 📝 this was based on this post. if you like it, reblogs and comments make all the difference. i hope you enjoy this sweetheart saturday, 'cause this will be the sweetest one. 🏷️ established relationship, letters, angst, longing, love delcarations, Steve x Reader (platonic) ⚠️Smut. Minors, DNI. Unprotected sex, body worship, slow fuck.

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ㅤㅤㅤJuly, 1943.

My sweetheart,

You're a menace even from far away. How can that be? If I hadn't met you exactly like this, I'd dare say I'm surprised. But I'm not. Little minx. Do you know the lengths of what I had to do to finish your last letter? The effects you have on me, even from far away?

I bet you do. Good god, I can bet you're fuckin' smiling, right now. Sittin' there all pretty with your knees pulled high, so giddy and proud of yourself for what you've done to me. Well—let it be known that this here... this is payback.

First things first, thank you for the pictures.

You're more than I could ever ask for, every single time. One of them is safely tucked inside my uniform. I placed the other one inside my pocket watch. Morita's already laughed under his breath as if I can't fuckin' hear him sayin "you don't let a single hour pass by, huh, Sarge?", so you should be happy to know that, as well. My guys are giggling because of me. Because I'm whipped for you.

Second of all... thank you.

From the bottom of my heart which belongs to you entirely, I'm thankful for you. Knowing Ma has a friend in someone soothes my soul. I got a letter from her a few days ago—she's mad at me for dating you "for almost half of an entire year, James Buchanan. almost half a year and you didn't think to bring her here yourself! You'll count yourself lucky if you go back to the base camp with your ears still intact because when I see you..." and this is a direct quote, by the way. I have her letter right next to me—Ma's mad, and I'm glad that she is. It means she loved ya. As I knew she would.

What did you two talk about? Ma said you played with the girls, too. I think I dreamt of that scene. Did she show you my embarrassing baby pictures? I bet she did. My favorite one is the one that Stevie's got paint all over him; I love that one.

Now... as for the rest of your letter.

What should I do to you, hm?

You can't just tell me these things, you lil' witch. Can't just talk about the things you wished I was doing to you, 'cause I'm not there to do them, and it makes my chest tight, my heart beating faster.

I went to the showers at 2 something a.m. to finish that letter, 'cause I felt your words like caresses all over my skin. Here's a new acronym I learned from Gabe: V E N I C E. Wanna know what it means? I'll tell ya.

It means I think about it, too. Not often, unfortunately, not because I don't want to, but because in here I have very few moments to think about good things, but when I do, that's where my mind goes to—in the sweet minutes I have all to myself, my mind runs back to your presence like a puppy, wiggling its tail with its tongue out, so happy and so excited beyond words because of one single person.

My mind rushes to you, to memories of us, to moments we shared. Most of all, it seems to zoom in on the seconds where we were the closest. I save those memories for the stars, for when no one else's around, for when I can let my brain dive and swim in them.

You said that for you, what comes back when you're alone in the dark is the ghost of my hands.

For me, it's the fathom of your lips.

The way you kissed put a spell on me. Right now, as I write this, I'm sitting alone in a corner of the common showers with my neck sweating just a little bit and my heart beating in my throat, all because of that: the thought of your lips, so present and so sweet, making me ache all over. Should I be concerned, lil' witch? With the way you have control over my body even from far away? As if I were a puppet with strings only you can see, I'm aching for you and you're not even here. I'm hard, painfully so, because your picture and the distant echo of your giggles in my ear are enough to put me in a trance... the way you whisper my name when my hands are searching in menace ways the best path to get under your clothes and imprinted all over your skin... It's so difficult to write like this, sweetheart. Very Excited, Now I Caress Everywhere... d'you get it now? D'you see it?

I'm not there, but I can see you reading this. I can see your thighs clamping together in a pitiful attempt to not think about how I loved to tease the path to my favorite place, with my hands, my lips, my tongue. I'm gonna dream about it tonight, I can already see it. Gonna dream about your little whines, and how excited you got, while always being so good. Never asked for more. Never pushed for faster. Just took whatever I had to offer you, and asked in the sweetest way possible for what you wanted. "Jay." I miss that. The way you call me Jay when it's just us. No one's ever called me that before, and no one ever will again.

So do it, lil' witch. Touch yourself all you want when thinking about me. You had to ask for permission, didn't ya? (It's a rhetorical question. You never have to ask. I told ya long ago that from me, you can take and take without ever asking first, and yet you did, anyway.) I'm the luckiest bastard in this godforsaken and twisted world, all because of you.

I'll be there on the last weekend of this month, only for two days, but it'll be enough.

Just a taste of what'll come for us when all of this is over. A taste of you — that I miss so goddamn fuckin' much, Jesus Christ, sweetheart — and hours and hours of making you smile until it's imprinted in the walls of my brain, secured safe and sound in the labyrinth of my mind.

Wait for me, but never sadly. Keep up your studies, and focus on them just as I focus on work here whenever I have to. Talk to your friends, stay clear of those damn radios that only make you anxious and get you to bite your pretty nails, take Steve out for walks and keep that neighborhood in check, the two of you. I'll be back. I'll always come back to you.

With love in my heart (and because of your menace ways, my hand in my pants), I say goodbye for now,

V.E.N.I.C.E;

always yours, J.B.B.

In a month and a half, Bucky has written and read more than in the past decade, at least.

You'd scold him for admitting such a thing so easily, but it was true.

There are a few letters exchanged by now—the U.S. Postal is doing their best, but can only do so much—but they're enough on their own. More than two, sometimes 3 pages long, filled with more post scrimptums than anyone else rather than you two would care to read and it's probably acceptable, and always signed with a lot of love.

It's a whole new world created between the two of you where childhood memories are shared, secret fears that neither Bucky nor you ever imagined talking about are laid on the table, and all of that written between paragraphs of gossip stories from home or the military base, and dirty dreams and wishes.

A mess. An entire conversation—one with topics that go back and forth since the first letter and short pieces of dialogue you two shared with important people; it's the best conversation he's ever had.

The longest. Deepest.

ㅤㅤㅤ"I love talking to you, Jay. If before I thought we were two peas in a pod, now I'm certified of it the same way I'm certain the Sun rises in the East to set in West. Can you see the same thing I do? Sometimes, it feels as if we're sittin' on our porch, on our living room armchairs, laughing to one another about the sweet memories or silly theories that only we find amusement in."

Through you, Bucky hears things his Ma is saying. Gets news from his two younger sisters, as well as realistic check-ups on Steve.

In one of your letters, you said, "you know, I'm starting to feel calluses. I dreamt of writing dark children's books for so long, and I think this is my punishment, in some sort of way. How in the hell am I having an argument with Steve and you through here? You two are wrong. We talked about this before and I'll say it as many times as needed: this whole 'trip to the future' thing is hiding something bigger, and it's cute that you two think that geniuses and billionaires are just giving us all of their biggest developments. Truly adorable," and it had sparked the favorite topic in his unit: the existence of aliens, or not.

You're there without being there.

Most of them don't even know about you, of course. Bucky's private, and likes to be that way.

Morita, Gabriel, and Dum Dum are exceptions—those tree men proved to be the exact type of company a fella needs when facing an untamed and suffocating darkness.

They teased Bucky about his alone 'poet' time. When the time in July finally came for the soldiers to be dismissed for a weekend home before being shipped to London, Morita bid him goodbye with, "and see if you do something else other than writing back home, eh, Sarge?"

Bucky would.

He barely gets any sleep, waiting for the time when he'll be sharing your presence and counting each minute of it, placing them in the same precious box he kept your words.

With his eyes closed, the smile sets in stone on his face.

To any onlookers that pass him by, Sgt. James Barnes looks at peace.

Everything around him feels sharp and colorful.

Bucky almost feels surreal—his energy is humming underneath his skin, scorching as hot as the star that starts to rise.

He breathes in deeply as he steps out of the train, welcoming the smell of home.

Brooklyn is a hive of noise, so loud and different than anything he'd been used to these past weeks, and he strides in confidence towards his destinies.

For each of his people, Bucky told a story, but all for a good reason:

First, he has to visit his family. If he had told Steve about the time his train arrived, he'd be there without any regard for his sleep and comfort, and Bucky loved him too much to pull him out of bed before the sky had even lost its dark blue tones.

So first, he goes to the Barnes household.

Bringing bread, he steps inside his home almost feeling like the first rays of sunshine itself. Bucky's welcomed by the oldest feeling of attached to being safe and sound when Winnifred's arms wrap around him and she lets out a choked gasp at his name.

"James," is the first name he hears.

He's James during breakfast while he updates his mother to the best of his abilities, and fights the persistent sting in his eyes whenever the light illuminates her dark hairs, shining evidence in her new silver strands. He's James — but in a scolding tone — when his mother hears that he omitted from Steve his arrival time, and he's oh, James when his plans for later tonight are laid on the table in a soft, almost shy-spoken tone.

"I really like her, you know?" his mother tells him.

She's leaning against the sink with her ruby red robe, the soft slippers he bought for her as a present, and her hair held up in a bun. Bucky smiles at the approval, ignoring the heat in his cheeks that blossom at his mother's all-knowing gaze and the glint in her blue eyes. "I'm glad to hear that, ma."

Winnie does no effort to hide how pleased she is, and he has to admit that the teasing face he catches in reflections sometimes came from one person, and it wasn't his father. "Will I get to spend some time together with the two of you, at least?"

According to Bucky's plans, very little, because the time was as counted as their paychecks. "Well—today I'm gonna have lunch with Steve, then the three of us will meet up."

"Right."

"We'll probably hang around Stevie and I's apartment. Then we'll get ready to go to the Stark exhibition."

Winnie's are you serious look reminds Bucky that she never saw the three of you all hanging around together. "Really, James?"

"What?"

"You're gonna bring that poor, sweet boy to chaperone and be a third wheel at your date? Son," the title is another scolding and meant to serve as a tug in his ear.

He can't help it—Bucky laughs. "Mom," he teases right back. "That 'poor sweet boy' will be just fine." He snorted—there was nothing poor nor sweet about Steve. "The three of us are friends."

"And I'm not doubting that for a second. I'm just sayin'. Does he need to be there on the date? Does he even want to?"

"They already argued about this and the final conclusion was, apparently, that yes, he does." Bucky had to bite his lip at those bits in your last letter—even through ink and paper, he could see you and Steve as clear as daylight. "Steve and her are really good friends, Ma. She knows how much I miss him, and she claims that he's been even more annoyin' about stuff, mumbling shit—sorry, mumbling stuff about 'Bucky this' and 'Bucky that', so she ain't havin' it. Plus, it's not like the two of us can't behave. We never made Stevie feel left out."

His mother chuckled. "For some reason I find it hard to believe that you two are not the grossest thing together."

"What?!" his laughter intensifies. "You never saw us together."

"And whose fault is that, hm? Hm?" Winnie's look pierces through him as the last drops of her coffee seep to the cup, and she grabs her cup like a ninja, with eyes still glued on him and her head shaking, no need for a single glance to where her hands are going. His mother sips, and Bucky's laughter subsidies to a smile. "Well, I'm glad you she's generous enough to share ya." Her whole face softens. "Bubba's right. Steve's been missing ya a lot."

Bubba. Bucky forgets how to breathe for a single second. "Bubba?"

The name that his mother calls the girls—Bubs, Bubba, baby.

Winnie smiles behind the cup, and he's not sure if her happiness is directed at him because of how he looks, or at the whole situation. "Yes, James. The woman who's been comin' to my house for two months now, havin' almost daily cups of tea with me to talk about life and the perils of life is, to your surprise and delight, my Bubba. Are you really surprised?" Her next chuckle is as sweet as her coffee must be. "I like her. I told ya already."

"I can see that."

His mother moves to sit in the chair in front of him. "And you haven't answered my question yet, young man." She crosses her legs and offers her coffee for him to sip, which he does. Gods, this woman is a bee. He returns it with a grimace.

"Right, as I was sayin', today we're going to the Stark fair, the three of us. Eat a hot dog, be annoyin' at the square, drink a couple of beers. Then tomorrow, uh—"

"You two love birds will be together all day, yes, I can imagine."

He's thankful his mother saves him from saying the embarrassing bits, at least. "I have to go back on Monday."

"What time?"

"Thirteen hundred train."

"So there's time for breakfast?"

His smile returns. "Yeah, Ma. There's time for breakfast together."

Across the table, his smile seems to be reflected back at him. It looks a little older, with more crinkles around the corners and kissing the side of the eyes, but the same smile nonetheless. "Now I'm happy." She sips the coffee, humming in pleasure. "And what's so interesting at this fair?"

"Was that Bucky's voice?! Ma! Is Bucky here?!"

Ah, that screeching tone.

The second name he hears—Bucky.

Screamed at the top of her lungs by Rebecca, and later by a still sleepy Dorca, Bucky's greets with open arms his young rascals and spins them in the air, so lucky to have their laughter be the only sound he hears once again.

He does his best that whole morning to imprint every second spent with them like a tattoo in the malleable muscle of his brain. He wants Rebecca's slightly nasal and bossy tone to be of easy access when he's far away. He wants to not forget how long Dorca's hair is getting, or how much his mother still has control of this entire house at the tip of her fingers as if she's a powerful spider whose webs are invisible, but stronger than the eyes behold.

Before he leaves, he takes them for ice cream. Bucky asks all sorts of questions, trying to squeeze as much as he can in only a few hours, knowing that no amount of time feels enough nowadays.

Later, there's Buck.

"Hey, Buck."

It's a second homecoming.

This one, it tastes like a little bit of everything. "Hey, Stevie." The tiny frame that fits in his embrace as if it were a puzzle piece, it smells like childhood and teenage years all mushed together. "Glad to see you're in one piece."

It's a jab to the fact that his best friend and soulmate was about to get into a fight just seconds before Bucky finds him, and it was met with an ocean-cold stare. Blue meets blue, and Bucky can only laugh.

"Oh, shut up," Steve rolls his eyes. "I hate that I let them go—fucking bastards."

"Hey, hey; you can't fight 'em—"

"Can't fight 'em all, I know, punk, I know." Steve sighs, but when he looks at Bucky again, his gaze softens. Something clicks, and Steve seems to come back to himself. "You sound like Father Chase," his snorted laugh means it's Bucky's time to scoff.

"Maybe because he had a point?"

"Always did. Doesn't change the facts."

"And what are the facts?"

"The facts, Buck, are that you're a softie," before he can come up with an answer, Bucky's frame is pushed back by the force of it—Steve doesn't go for it, he lunges for another hug, body crashing against Bucky's. "'m glad you're back."

The facts must be true, if only when it came to Steve, at least. "Punk," he mutters against soft blond strands. Bucky hugs back just as hard, and they let go at the exact same time.

A single look is shared, and then they nod.

Secret conversations aren't only spilled in acronyms.

I'm glad to be back, his nod says.

While Steve's says, Now we're alright.

They were. For now, everything was alright.

"You get your orders?" Steve starts walking in the direction that Bucky's heart was tugging in—the direction of your apartment.

He follows, putting one arm around Steve's shoulders. "Sure did. The 107th. Sgt. James Barnes, shipping out on Monday for England."

"Sargeant, huh?"

Under Steve's appraising eyes, Bucky's always felt a little bit analyzed. "Yeah." No inch of him went unnoticed. "I'll do my best to take care of all of them." An artist's eye on you could be an unnerving thing.

It soothed when he smiled. "Of course you will, Buck." Often, Bucky wondered if Steve had any idea of how much power his opinion yielded. "You always do your best." A smile of his alone, and Bucky felt more approved than any superior's highest praise. "I—" he hut himself short, but Bucky knew what he swallowed down. I just wish I could help. "I'm happy for ya."

Always so good, "thank you, Steve." Not a day would go by when Bucky would let it pass the opportunity to thank god for gifting him with Steven Gran Rogers. "Now—" he looked up, seeing your building approach. "You sure she has no idea I'm here?"

Another roll of eyes—Steve could one day get cursed with the sight of his brain forever. "I'm starting to think you're spending too much time with your comrades. You forgot already who's had your six since forever?"

"Awn, Stevie—don't be jealous of my smelly, grumpy men. You'll always be my number one."

"You're ridiculous. Of course she doesn't know. Lady thinks you'll be here on the 4pm train, just like we talked about. She's probably still sleepin' 'cause of her late-night shift."

"Another one?!"

A scoff. "You try to tell Lady what to do and see how it goes. I already know my place of speakin', and it ain't that one."

"God, how on earth did I end up with the two more stubborn people to ever walk this goddamn planet? No, really—"

"Oh, because you're a beacon of flexibility."

"—you two are made from a single mold, and whoever used it on you first, and then her, saw their mistake two heartbeats too late, then broke the damn mold 'cause they knew if they made more, it'd mean world domination."

There's a single second of pause, and then Bucky turns to the amused gaze staring at him. Steve with a hand on his hip and a smirk on his face will always look the same. "You've gotten more dramatic. That's a fuckin' wonder." He turns around laughing to himself and shaking his head. "Go say 'morning' to her. I'm gonna go get tomato sauce, we ran out of it yesterday."

The implication that Steve's been hanging around more registers in all the happy places of Bucky's brain, but everything's washed away by the flood that it's the sight of it—

your window.

Bucky's entire world does the thing: it tunnels.

The same rounded, small rocks that he used on the first date still litter Mrs. Simyl's vase. He picks one, weights it in his hand, and with a heart-thumping loud in his chest, he throws it to your window.

A peck.

KNOCK

Bucky waits: one, two, three heartbeats.

He swallows the lump that rises in his throat.

The sun already rose, but it comes up again.

At least, for him.

When your head pops out in the window, Bucky swears it does.

Like a sniper's barrel, your eyes know exactly where it goes on instinct. They find him underneath your window pulled by the gravity that—with a quick check on his hummingbird of a heart, it's confirmed—still there.

North, meet South.

"Jay?"

"Hi, sweetheart."

Your face disappears, taking everything with you. The light, the warmth, the strenght in the gravitational hold of your beautiful eyes and gaze—as soon as they disappear, Bucky's spell is broken, and his feet gain life.

He knows you're rushing to your door the same way he rushes up the stairs.

He's glad the uniform stayed in his suitcase, safely tucked in his and Steve's apartment. He'd sweat from all the heat he's emmanating, and probably drench you in an ocean before he could get a single kiss.

Bucky's pulled by his North, and when he sees the familiar sight of your door, it's already swinging open.

"Oh, god." There's a breach in time. A break in the fabric of space. One moment, he's a few steps away from you, and the next thing he sees and knows, he has an arm full of you.

"Bucky."

That's him. James, Bucky, Buck, Jay. From all of his names, now's the only time when all of his cells feel slotted into place. Bucky's heard every one of his names, all the ones that matter, and now he is whole.

His voice evades him.

Inside his arms, he's aware that you're shaking, even if the notion takes a moment to register—as it should. He's shaking, too; vibrating, is more like it, because he's here, and now that he can breathe, his body seems incapable of doing so.

He inhales deeply, even if it's all trembling.

Your smell is different from any other. Bucky would recognize in a crowd of millions. He'd find it blindfolded, he was certain of it.

If they made him forget his name, Bucky would be Nobody, but even as Nobody, he would know that this is the scent of his person.

Citrine. Mint leaves. With a deeper inhale, he catches the underlying tone—vanilla. The purest and sweetest form, used in the lotion you put all over your body after showering sometimes, mixed with the unique and personal scent of just you. Vanilla has a taste on you. It's sweet, but not sticky.

It's summer.

Bucky is in love.

When the pull that holds you together seems to loosen its threads, you and Bucky pull back at the same time.

Not too far—neither one is able to go further than millimeters for now, and in the back of his mind, he's thankful that Steve gave the two of you the time you needed.

Just like he and Steve clung to each other like a lifeline for embarrassing minutes that neither one chose to talk about, you two are roped together, and going too far is impossible for now.

The only space is a breath of air separating your heads.

Bucky pulls an arm up, crowding your head inside his forearm. His palm spreads on the top of your head, holding you there.

His eyes find yours, swimming and spilling over.

Your lips tremble when you speak. "You told me you were getting here later," he feels your hand making fists out of his white shirt, resting on the curve of his lower back. After a sniffle, you add, "'m gonna kill you and Blondie," and then, you nuzzle your nose on his.

He laughs. Bucky truly is home. "He was just followin' my orders, lil' witch. No killing, please."

"You two planned behind my back," you go on, sounding small and choked still. His crybaby that never cried before.

Bucky's arm cage around your head got a little tighter, and his arm around your waist pulled you impossibly closer. "Don't cry," he pleaded in a whisper. "It was to surprise ya."

He thinks you're beautiful even with wet, rosy cheeks. "I'm surprised," your laugh came out choked, and you sniffled again. Bucky accepted the tears despite how much his hand itched to wipe them away, and clean your cheeks. Lower, and softer, so much softer than he was used to hearing any voice, you say, "You're actually here..."

The awe in your voice is a sentiment he can understand. "I am."

"I'm not dreaming."

His forehead stays touching yours as he shakes his head, and while it's an uncomfortable angle, but he likes it for now. "No. Seems neither am I." It's the closeness his heart aches for, and achieving it soothes the wrinkles in his soul.

You, on the other hand, seem to need a better angle—your head pulls back against his head, gaining a couple more inches of distance, and his body moves along with yours.

When you're far enough to look at his whole face, Bucky's breath is sucked out of his body.

He's here.

"I missed you, Jay."

And so are you.

Bucky smiles and dives.

Your eyes are closed, lips waiting for his.

If angels sing, this is it. Angels, a choir, or maybe just the white noise of his head subduing, opening up space for this—your lips on his are a single drop falling in a pond, creating ripples until the surface is a still mirror.

Neither one of you moves too much. There isn't back and forth, or any deepening of the kiss. On the contrary.

It is what it is.

A sweet sound of hello. A press of lips, two pieces meeting together, fitting in as one.

When the air he stored runs out and Bucky gasps in your lips, he hears your pleased hum.

You smile, breathing in through your nose. "'m so happy," you inform him.

Bucky laughs. He breathes out, and kisses you again, but messier this time. Rougher. He wants to taste your tongue, wants your oxygen in his veins. He nibbles, bites, sucks on your lips; Bucky finally gets his tongue intertwining with yours, walks you back inside your place, and closes the door with his foot even if somewhere in the back of his mind, he's aware that Steve will come passing by any minute now.

The kiss is enough for now.

A single taste—a sip of a galleon he'll drink whole later tonight, bathe himself, drown in; Bucky pulls back and is pleased to note how pink you look and the puffiness in your lips.

You two exist in silence for a moment, just breathing each other in, and then,

"You ready for a day with Stevie and I?" he asks.

Your smile is enough of an answer. "Where's Blondie?"

"Probably comin' right up."

"'Kay. Cool." You press your lips on his again, melting and humming softly; all the little sounds he's missed. The hums, and ahs you make when melting in his arms that he's taking back to the base with him. "'m gonna change."

"Cool. Let's go."

Your laughter as well—he's pocketing that, and keeping it close to his heart. "That wasn't an invite."

"Was it not? Damn, I could've sworn it was, miss. My bad."

"D'you think I can get any 'changing' done with you in the room?"

Although the question is asked amidst laughter, you seem okay with Bucky glued on your back and stepping where you do, channeling his inner cat. "I have no clue. We'll figure it out."

"And if Steve arrives?"

A cackle from him—you're the witch, but Bucky laughs like one at that joke. "I'm sure your new best friend can find himself just fine in your house. Wasn't he here last night?"

"How d'you know that?"

"He said you two ran out of tomato sauce. He went to get some to cook lunch for us."

"You mean for you to cook lunch for us. We're just sittin' there lookin' pretty and talking your ear off."

"Sweetheart, that sounds marvelous to me."

True as he said to his mother, there is no third-wheeling or chaperoning.

In the same kitchen as his two favorite people, Bucky has one of the loveliest afternoons of his entire life. In fact, his Saturday is so good that Bucky marks the date in the calendar in his mind — the 24th of July — as some special daybreak.

He fits right in. Between the jokes that you and Steve now share and he has no idea what the roots of them are, next to your attentive, hawk-like eyes that never seem to leave him, snuggled by the much smaller frame of a friend who still looks up to him as someone good.

It's a pity that Bucky has no superpowers.

He would fit an entire month right there, in the afternoon reserved for the three of you.

By the time the sun is setting down and you three feel the need to clean up for the exhibition, the trio has already covered every base:

The military. Family. Neighbors (both the annoying as well as the good ones). Steve's stubbornness, and then yours. England. Bucky's squadron, with the specifics of each man he claimed to like.

Bucky laughed. He sobered up—those coal, slimy tentacles of war tried sneaking their way to the front.

Impossible to be done with you and Steve present.

When Bucky comments about separating — 'Steve and I can go to the apartment to get ready then come pick you up, whatcha say?' — he gets the same attitude from both.

"Why would I go stay alone at my place?" you ask.

Steve nods along. "Just wait here 'till she picks up her overnight bag and she'll come with us."

"Yeah. Steve never takes longer than ten minutes to get ready, anyway."

"True. I say Lady and I will be ready before you are," Steve adds with a knowing smile.

You laugh with him. "Oh—that's for sure."

"Hey!" Bucky loves to see you two teaming up. It's the kind of thing he'd like to see forever if he has any say in it. "I don't take that long."

To that, he hears many arguments.

"Oh my god, who is he talking to?" you ask, turning your gaze to Steve.

"I don't know. He's actin' like we don't know him," Steve snorts.

"It's crazy. Did he forget the times we had to wait for him?"

"Many times."

You glance back at Bucky, all smiles and daring. "You think you can hurry up tonight, princess?"

It does something to him. He hates that it does—and he sees and hears it in Steve's laugh that it's obvious, too, that the stupid teasing nickname pulls a string or two of his, and he huffs away from you both. "Ungrateful duo of firecrackers, I swear to god."

"Oh, c'mon!" it's you, rushing to catch up to him, laughing the same as Steve.

"Yeah, c'mon—"

"Don't you dare, Steven," he cuts him off before he can use it too, and it gets only more laughter.

"You didn't answer her question, you know," Steve comments when he catches up to Bucky and you.

He rolls his eyes. "I'll speed up. 's not like I have to look my best—not when you two aren't doing anythin' to deserve it."

"Damn, Jay. Not even a little bit of cologne for me?" you pout.

The gall. The audacity. He huffs and puffs, and turns his eyes away from you. "I'll think about it." He's a joke. Bucky's going to spend at least triple the time in the bathroom, but it's okay, because he'll come out to you and Steve waiting for him.

"Welcome to the Modern Marvels Pavilion and the World of Tomorrow!"

In his uniform, Bucky feels oddly in place.

He's pulled by the sleeves by either you, or Steve. "C'mon, c'mon, Buck, it's starting!" you squeal.

Willing and pliant, that's his role for the whole night. With a smile plastered on his face, and a giddiness he hasn't felt since he was a kid. Not that he was ever this happy in his childhood—this is a new, shinier form of happiness.

It happens because he's in the right place. With the right people.

Also, he paid very close attention to your eyes when he left the bathroom an hour ago.

When Bucky saw that glint, a very familiar one to him, his body responded. He felt your gaze on him. On his uniform. The tension that for a second became almost like humidity in the air, it hung for a few seconds, and it made Steve go to the kitchen with yet another roll of his eyes.

"I'm... gonna go drink a glass of water. You two—yikes. Be quick. The eye fucking is gross."

"Such a gentleman, Steve," you joked, but the lack of eye contact with him kind of ruined it for you.

Bucky approached you, walking in slow and deliberate steps. He allowed you to look at every inch. Feeling it was good, too—your eyes ranking up and down his body was almost a physical touch, and it made the soft spreading of your palm on his chest warmer.

"You look..." the words left you, leaving your lips parted and pink. "Very nice."

Not often did Bucky feel bashful. "Thanks, sweetheart." A rare gem such as this needed to be polished, even if it was perfect in its raw form. Bucky leaned in closer, barely containing his smile, and with his mouth nearing your ears, he whispered. "I have a feeling it's not my hair and my perfume that you like."

The intake of your breath was loud from this proximity. "Jay..."

That whisper alone was enough for him. He whispered your name back and kissed your temple with a smile. "Save all of those thoughts for later, 'kay? All of 'em. I wanna hear everything that's goin' around on that pretty head of yours."

Breathless, you whispered, "'kay'," and then nuzzled your face against his neck before pulling away. The flush was high on your cheeks. Redder than before, and due to more than just makeup. "You really do look handsome," that whisper made his insides tangle, and he enjoyed it.

"'m glad you think so."

That part was only forgotten when he saw the automobiles.

Even if Steve hid it better than you and Bucky, the reality hit you three all the same. Three nerds in a science fairy served for more than entertainment; it meant a night to be remembered.

Bucky gets lost in hours of conversation.

You three see everything. Even the dance floor is forsaken in the name of reading about stuff, theorizing about what is left out of the exposition, and laughing with each other as the ideas that bounce between you three get wilder each time.

It's almost midnight when you three make your way to the apartment.

Bucky is in a tipsy state. Steve—well, his tolerance is not the best, and mixing sugar with alcohol is a bad idea. It's all good though, because you hate the taste of it, and walking between the two of them like a beacon of balance and normalcy is a thing you did before.

Steve's hand hooks through your shoulder, into Bucky's nape.

He talks about the war. The human condition—Mrs. Georgia, from downstairs.

"She's been cryin' every night or two. It's—sad. Loud. God, I'm so glad I'm gonna black out tonight."

Bucky ends up taking off Steve's shoes while you tuck his sleeping body into bed.

He looks up at you, and sees the strand of your hairstyle escaping the pins, framing your face into something more suited for the faint yellow lights of late-night times and the Moonlight outside. "At least he waited 'till he was home," Bucky reasons.

You smile at him. "At least he didn't puke."

"Touché."

Once Steve Rogers is safe and sound, you turn your body to Bucky, both hands placed on your hips.

Here it comes, thinks Bucky...

"Safe and sound."

He smiles. "That he is." Bucky knew he'd be. It wasn't his first time hearing this.

He extends one hand in the air and is delighted when you catch it.

"Let's go?"

It's barely a whisper.

You nod at him, fitting your body under one of his arms as you walk out of the room. In the quiet magnitude of this hour into the night, you whisper, "I should've let you buy me cotton candy."

Bucky closes the door of the room holding back his laughter. "I'll make you scrambled eggs when we get to the hotel."

"Will you?"

"I will."

"I don't know if I trust your tipsy self to a stove."

Bucky groaned, pulling you even closer to him to bury his nose into your hair. "I'll be a hundred percent by the time we make it there."

The conversation goes on in hushed whispers as you two walk, ignoring all the other rare figures you see walking in the streets too, not on purpose—on the fact that it's a new world, already.

As soon as the apartment door was locked behind him, Bucky's world shifted in its axis; everything becomes you.

He's barely aware of what he's answering.

The only thing he knows it's that you're teasing him—he pays attention to the blush he sees forming on your cheeks once you feel his gaze so locked on your lips. He laughs under his breath when you stutter, and then laughs harder when you poke him in the ribs for laughing in the first place.

He feels how warm you are despite how chill the night has become.

Inside his jacket—his uniform, you've found heat.

The hotel room he located for the night is not far from your house itself, and it's one of the most decent ones still inside his budget. Rooms that are nice and clean, plus a decent breakfast.

It was far from what you deserved, but Bucky had years of work ahead of him before he was able to afford that.

When he enters, you take a little spin around.

Bucky puts both yours and his duffel bags on the floor.

He lets you walk around, and take your heels off, his eyes following you.

When they finally land on him, Bucky can almost see the air that stands between you.

Your voice is as low as a whisper. He hears it loud and clear in the deep quiet of the night. "You're not gonna cook for me, are you?"

He's kicking his shoes off as he shakes his head.

Bucky's eyes are so attentive, that he catches the shivers that run through you.

"Tomorrow," he promises.

Your fingers graze the long sleeve of the dress until it hooks on the shoulder pad, but Bucky hums negatively.

The movement stops.

He takes his steps until he's an inch away from you, and breathes in deeply.

"'m pretty sure that's my job."

It was. One of the best parts of it, now that Bucky paid close attention to it. His hands removed the fabric from your skin, exposing it to the light entering the room through the window, and in those moments, Bucky managed to fit in hours.

Every inch of you being exposed to him, it was like he painted it somewhere in his mind, guarding that canvas in a special slide of his subconscious.

When all your clothes were on the floor, he continued his ministrations of sewing all your measurements to memory.

Bucky's hands — palm spread flat, his fingertips, his knuckles — made work of you, while you removed his clothes in return.

Once naked, he could pass on to the next stage:

"Wanna remember how you taste, sweetheart."

The shaky gasp you let out when his words met your ear was too fast for him to catch, but everything else that followed fell into Bucky's lips.

They were wide, hand-made nets, built only for one purpose: to fish every part of you that was delectable.

Bucky started with close-mouthed kisses and ended up almost devouring you. Swallowing you whole.

There were hours between that first and last stage, though.

At first, everything was slow.

Bucky had been so preoccupied back at the base with whether the first time you two fucked would be the same as the ones from before or not, that he missed the entire point.

It had always been great. The connection between you two always started with more than just physical, and when it got to that point, you two were already lost in each other.

This was immersion.

Hearing your tender, then groaned, and later broken moans of "Jay" counted as his sea.

Your eager touches were current, guiding him in.

This was far from fucking. There was nothing crude about the first time—there was only love.

Bucky never made love before, but he understood why not when your body unfolded in front of him. When your legs open wide and everything blossoms, Bucky has full comprehension of what a feeling can do to two people.

Not just any feeling. This.

Bucky's a drunk man.

It's only his grace that you're as far gone as him. As Dionysus blessed—when Bucky's fingers intertwine with yours to replace your fisted hands in the sheets with his own instead, Bucky's gaze catches yours.

He sees the warm and inviting openness of black in your eyes.

Bucky kisses and leaves his feeling all over his path.

As overwhelming as it is, making love is also beautiful. This type of surrender required a level of trust and blinded faith that he's not sure he even had before, but he finds it right there, in bed with you.

The first time is slow.

Both of you taking your time to marvel at how in sync you are—to marvel at how wet one makes the other, and how unashamed both of you feel in touching each and every part.

He's never had anyone touching him the way you do. Bucky gets your lips leaving prints from his face, his chest, arms, and legs, all the way to the curve above his ass.

As he opens you up with his fingers, Bucky keeps watching all the emotions passing through your face.

The first time you make love, in gentle, long, and agonizing steps.

When he pushes inside at last, he can almost swear he hears violins.

Or maybe it's your nails digging at his back—your pained, blissed whines. "Jay."

He's whining, too—your name spills from his lips as much as air does, and you two move not to reach an end, but to feel what is connecting you at that exact time.

When the words leave his lips, Bucky can see them traveling in the air before being sucked in by yours. "I love you, sweetheart."

Out of his lips, into thick, warm air, and falling...

You gasp, closing your eyes for a moment, and Bucky tastes your tears when he's gifted back with, "I love you too, James." It makes him smile, shaking from head to toe like a leaf. "I truly do."

"I know. I feel it."

"It w-was never like—like this. Never before."

An understatement, if he ever heard one. Bucky could feel your heartbeat as if it was his own; it was more than just his cock buried to the hilt inside of your warm cunt, feeling every construction and high of your pleasure, or the vibrations of your moans and the pleas for his name that seemed to reverberate all through his being—

"This—" he bucked his hips harder, just to feel the waves of pleasure cursing through you, and laughed with his lips ghosting your mouth. "This is—oh—it's making love, sweetheart."

"Jay!"

Bucky was unsure of how long it lasted.

Could've been hours, or just a few, blissful minutes.

From the thick layer of sweat that covered your bodies by the time you both came undone, his guess tips more towards the first.

It's almost like seeing a visible thread being cut—when the orgasms hit your bodies, one right after the other, Bucky collapses his back in the bed, carrying your body along with him.

That's where you two stay, for a few moments longer.

"Were we whispering?" you ask.

He likes when your lips are on his skin. They're warm, and he has their shape memorized now. "I think we were." If he was a better artist, he'd draw them. "D'you want me to cook for you now?" he asks with a chuckle.

You tilt your head up, take a second to think it over, then answer with a simple smile.

So Bucky cooks.

He slaps your hand when you try putting on his white t-shirt laying on the ground, commenting, "No need for that at all, c'mon'," and watches with the same pleased and hungry eyes as you stay leaning on the wall as he uses the small stove for a quick meal.

After that, there are other times.

There's the desperate round, and there's the fucking, and the unexpected, and the lazy, 'we're too tired to move but still horny enough for this' moment where he just lays in bed with his hands between your legs, touching your pussy even if he's not actively doing anything.

Bucky washes you with careful hands and a lot of tenderness in the shower, running the cloth and the soap through your marked, sensitive skin as slowly as his sleepiness allows.

"We're gonna have a good day today," you tell him.

Given the whispering tone and slurred words, Bucky assumes you're almost sleeping, too. "Yup. All day to ourselves. Dinner with Steve. Come back here to sleep well."

"I love you, James."

Bucky would never get tired of hearing those words in your voice. He pulls your body close, kissing even if he'll taste soap and warm water. "I love you more." He whispers your name, kisses you again, and turns off the shower head before cold water sprays on his perfect day.

Nothing about today is cold.

Bucky's warm. While you may carry the elegance and magic of the Moon, you're his Sun.

His North, and his Sun, which would always guide him home, for hot and perfect days like this that remind him of why it's good to be alive and to feel all of this love.

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crazyunsexycool · 1 year

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I just got an idea for a story and have to share!! So reader and Bucky are high school sweethearts and married just before he's in the war and taken by hydra. She never finds out what happened to him and never remarries because he was the great love of her life... but just after he's taken she finds out she's pregnant.

Flash forward to the present and when Bucky is saved by the avengers he tries to find reader but finds out she died and also that he has a son. He goes to meet his son who tells Bucky all about reader from when he was growing up.

Somehow Bucky finds a way to bring reader back through teleporting her or something because he simply can't live without her.

80 years later.

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x reader

Warning: talks of death, angst, pregnancy, fluff.

A/N: the day I stop writing. About time travel send help because I love it. The TVA can kiss my ass. I also forgot I had written this and it was saved in my drafts for the longest time. I also thought it’d be funny if Bucky was a grandfather that looked younger than his grandkids.

Bucky stood in front of the red door and took a deep breath. He finally gets the courage to knock on the door, his hand trembling as he raked it through his long hair. When the door opens it feels like he’s been punched in the gut.

“Dad?” Surprise colors the voice of this familiar stranger.

“Hey kid.”

Bucky stood in front of an older looking version of himself. White hair and wrinkles around electric blue eyes. But the nose and the lips were all you.

James Grant Barnes, was the son you’d had right after Bucky had been shipped off to the Great War. The son Bucky would never know about because he’d fall off of a moving train and into the hands of hydra. For sixty five years you’d mourn the loss of your high school sweetheart, love of your life and husband. He’d asked for your hand in marriage as soon as you both graduated high school but only married right before he went off to boot camp. It was the happiest days of both your lives, a life you’d never get to share.

Both men stared at each other for a minute before a voice came up behind them.

“Who’s at the door pa?”

“Please come in.” Bucky gets ushered into the living room. “Make yourself at home.”

“Pa who was at the-“ a woman walks into the living room. Hair down to her shoulders, bright eyes and the spitting image of you.

“Rebecca, I'd like you to meet your grandfather.”

“You look just like her.” Bucky’s voice breaks as he speaks.

Rebecca smiles as she sits next to him and it makes Bucky’s heart ache even more. She takes his right hand in hers and squeezes it gently.

“I’m sorry you lost your time with grandma. I feel like I’ve known you all of my life, she talked about you all the time and she loved you so much.”

Bucky cried at that for two reasons. The first being because hydra stole his life away from him and second because he could barely remember you. He just always knew there was something or someone missing. He could only piece parts of your relationship by what Steve told him. The only thing Bucky had of yours was a picture and you looked a bit older then.

“Would you like to see pictures?” James asks his father. Bucky only nods.

Bucky and James spent hours together watching home movies and looking through albums you’d put together. James filled in the blanks for some pictures and family moments. The more he saw the more memories from your time together came back to Bucky.

“Grandma, what was grandpa like?” A very young Rebecca asked you.

You were both sitting in a garden having a picnic. James was currently recording the interaction. While Rebecca sat beside you, you held the newest addition to the family in your arms.

“Well he was a nerd.” You giggle along with Rebecca. “The cutest nerd at our school. He loved reading and dancing and anything to do with technology.”

“Did he ever take you dancing?”

“He sure did. We went dancing every Friday night and we would always drag Stevie with us. Even the night before he went off to war we went dancing.”

“Why didn’t he come back so he could dance with you again?” Rebecca asked innocently. She was still too young to understand what had happened.

The video cuts off there and James pauses the video before it goes any further.

“I wish I could have.” Bucky says after a while.

“She knew, Ma was never mad at you or anything. She just missed you. Even when she thought I wouldn’t notice I always knew when she’d be crying over you. Especially around your birthday or your anniversary. So once I was old enough to have a job I’d always take her out to celebrate.”

“She did a good job raising you. Did she ever-“

“She never remarried or dated anyone at all. Always said you were the love of her life and that there was no use in seeing anyone else because she would just compare them to you and it wouldn’t be fair to them.” James says sadly.

“She should have. She deserved to be happy.”

“Ma was happy with the family she had. She said it herself she wouldn’t change a thing.”

Bucky nods and stands up.

“It’s getting late, I should go. Thank you for not shutting the door on me and for showing me all of this.”

“I could never shut you out. This is your family too. I never thought I’d ever meet you,” James struggled to find the words to express how he felt. “I’m happy we got a chance to meet. You’re welcome back anytime.”

“Me too, I’ll come back soon.”

James stood and they hugged. The hold they had on each other was strong and neither of them wanted to let go. When they finally did they both had tears running down their cheeks but for different reasons. Bucky cried because he missed out on raising his son and James cried because he got a chance to meet his father.

Bucky left the house with a new sense of belonging. Although he never understood why you wouldn’t have written to him to tell me he would be a father. He knew he’d never get an answer so he tried to let it go. It was a complete shock when Steve told him about it.

From that day Bucky met with James frequently. They would mostly talk about the family and what growing up was like for James. His job and his kids. Bucky wanted to stay away from the topic of what happened to him with hydra or the missions he was going on with the Avengers. James didn’t seem to mind.

~~~~~~~~~~~

Today was a special occasion. It was Rebecca’s birthday and the family was going to have a party. Of course the first thing she did was invite her grandfather and anyone he wanted to bring. At first he politely declined, stating that he would probably ruin the party. But she insisted, with multiple calls. She was stubborn just like you.

Bucky showed up with Steve and Sam at his side. This would be the first time Bucky would meet the rest of the family and he was nervous.

“Grandpa, you made it!” Rebecca said in a joking tone. Bucky smiles and accepts the hug she’d offered.

“Wow, Buck was not joking when he said you looked like Y/N.”

Steve stood there stunned. While he had spoken with James on the phone he hadn’t met him or anyone else from the family in person. You had been one of the few people to see Steve for who he was and what he wanted to become. The two of you had been friends for as long as Bucky and Steve had been. He grieved your death when he woke up from the ice. Now he stood in a room full of people that had loved you, he took comfort in knowing you hadn’t been alone all those years.

“Hi, grandma talked about you just as she did gramps.” Rebecca smiles at Steve and opens her arm for a hug.

“James, this is Sam.”

“Pleasure to meet you.”

“No, the pleasure is all mine, James. Now tell me all about your mom. I bet she had the patience of a saint to put up with these two.”

“She did.” Both men chuckle as they move to the living room.

Not only did Bucky have a son and grandchildren, he also had great grandchildren as well as nieces and nephews. They had all gathered for Rebecca’s birthday in the hopes of meeting him. It was a surreal experience to have so much family. Bucky had thought that there would be no one left. That there wouldn’t be a place for him in this world but you’d managed to make sure he wasn’t alone. Even if you never got to know what you’d done.

After introductions were made the celebration really got started. There was music and conversations going on everywhere. Steve and Sam had been accepted quickly.

“Hey Steve,” Georgie, James’ son, called out. “You should try this.” He held out a plate for Steve to grab a cookie.

“Mmm,” Steve moaned out after he took the first bite. “These taste just like the ones Y/N used to make.”

“They are. When dad said you were coming Becs and I pulled out grandma’s recipe books. She had a little note next to this recipe saying they were your favorite. She was your friend too, thought you’d like having something she used to make.”

“Thanks,” Steve cleared his throat. “This is incredibly kind of you.”

“Don’t mention it. We made a few for you to take home. So don’t forget them before you leave.”

“Trust me I’m not leaving these behind.” Steve said with a chuckle as his phone began to ring. “Excuse me, I have to take this.”

Steve moved to a more private area as he answered Nat’s call and sighed as he hung up. He went through the house until he found Sam and Bucky out in the backyard.

“There’s an emergency, we have to go.” He announced grimly. “Buck, why don’t you stay? We’ll call you for backup if we need to.”

Bucky looked at Steve then at his son and some of the other people he had been talking with moments ago. If something bad was happening he had to go. He had to make sure to keep them safe however he could. So Bucky shook his head. “I’m going with you. I’ll be back before you know it, kid.” He told James with a wry smile.

James accompanied them to the front door where he exchanged a hug with Bucky. “Please come back safe.”

The request was a punch to the gut. You’d said those exact same words on the platform just before he got on the train.

“I’ll do what I can.” He knew better than to make a promise he couldn’t keep.

Days later Steve would come back and tell James that Bucky had disappeared in the snap.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Bucky stood in front of the same door he had five and a half years ago. He felt the same kind of fear he did last time. The door was opened this time by Rebecca who, upon seeing Bucky standing at the door, launched herself into his arms and cried. She pulled him into the living room and sat down on the couch.

“I’m so glad you’re back.” She said with a sad smile. It only served to make Bucky’s heart stop.

“Rebecca, where's James?”

Tears started to run down her cheeks again.

“He passed away two years ago. I’m so sorry.”

Bucky’s chest tightened. He’d never been there for his son in the moments that mattered and now his son had been taken away from him. He didn’t realize he’d started crying until Rebecca pulled him into her chest. Her arms around him and he sobbed. He grieved for his son, his wife and the life he’d lost.

“I thought Steve would have told you. He was with pa when he passed.”

“No, the minute I was able to come out here I did. We didn’t even get a chance to talk.”

After what felt like hours of them just sitting there and talking, Bucky excuses himself. He needed to get back before Steve went on his final mission.

~~~~~~~~~~

“Don’t do anything stupid until I get back.” Steve quipped.

“How can I? You’re taking all the stupid with you.” Bucky and Steve hugged. “I’ll miss ya buddy. If you see her tell her I’ll always love her.” Bucky whispered.

Steve nodded and patted Bucky on his shoulder before heading to the platform.

Bucky held his breath as Steve disappeared. It should have taken only seconds based on what Bruce had said but Bucky knew he wasn’t coming back. Sam and Bruce began to argue but Bucky just turned around and started to walk away.

Bucky found it odd that Sam and Bruce went completely quiet and his steps faltered. He turned to find Steve standing on the platform and headed back.

“Tell her yourself.” Steve said with a shit eating grin as he stepped to the side.

Bucky had barely processed that Steve was back or what he had said when his eyes landed on you. You stood there wide eyed as you looked at him and then you moved. Before he could even react your arms were around his shoulders and your face was buried in the crook of his neck. Bucky snapped out of it and wrapped his arms around your waist.

“Hi.” You said once you pulled back, letting out a teary laugh. Your hands cupped his cheeks. “You have no idea how much I’ve missed you.”

“I’m pretty sure I do because I’ve missed you just as much.”

For the first time in years Bucky kisses you. It’s slow and timid but perfect nonetheless. He rested his forehead against yours and breathed a sigh of relief at having you in his arms again.

“My love, there’s something I have to tell you.” You inform him.

“If it’s about James I already know.”

“How?”

“I met him. He was a full grown adult but I spent some time with him.” Bucky tells you.

“I hope you’re ready to spend more time with him.” You say as you turn to find Steve holding on to a five year old version of your son.

“Hi daddy.” James waved excitedly and Steve set him on the ground. He takes off running and jumps into Bucky’s arms, giggling at the feeling of Bucky’s scruff tickling his cheek.

“Hi kid.”

You stand back to watch father and son interact for the first time. Your heart feels like it’s going to burst at the sight. Steve stands next to you and wraps an arm around your shoulder to pull you in. You cry in his embrace, this time the tears are from happiness.

“Thank you so much Steve. I never thought I’d see him again.”

“The moment I knew we could travel through time, I knew I’d go back to get you. If anyone deserves to be happy it’s both of you.” He smiles down at you.

“What about you? You deserve happiness too.”

“And I have it.” Steve said just as the platform activated again and someone stood in the middle. The suit came off to reveal a very pretty redhead. “That’s Nat, she’s my girl.”

She walks down the steps and stands beside Steve as you pull away. Steve officially introduces you both before you move toward Bucky and James.

“I have heard so much about you it’s good to finally meet you, I’m Sam.” He said as he stretched his hand out for you to shake.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you.” You smile at him and then look up at Bucky. “Who is that?”

“That Bruce, he works with us.”

“Why is he green?” You whisper.

“We will explain as much as we can. Why don’t we go home?”

“Where is home?”

“I have a place in Brooklyn. You’ll stay with me while you get settled.” Steve spoke up.

“Is that ok with you?”

“Anywhere you are is ok with me.”

~~~~~~~~~~~

The red door didn’t feel as intimidating this time around. Bucky explained everything that had happened to you. From his time at hydra to being saved by Steve to the family you still had. The door opens and Rebecca’s face immediately lights up when she sees it’s Bucky.

“Hey gramps, how have you-“ the words die on her tongue when she sees you standing just behind Bucky. “Grandma?”

“So I’ve been told.” Your eyes soften as you see the tears in her eyes. When she steps out and cups your face you let her. She stares in disbelief for a moment and then you bring her in for a hug.

“How is this possible? I mean you’re so young again.”

“I’ll explain anything you want to know.”

“Let me have George come over first.”

****

“That’s amazing.” Rebecca said after Bucky explained everything. “You should keep the house.”

“What?”

“You should keep this house. Dad wanted it to stay in the family but we don’t need it. But you do, especially if you want to raise him somewhere safe and away from the Avenger business.”

“George we couldn’t do that, this was your father’s house.” You said although it felt a bit weird.

“But he was your son first. Dad loved taking care of you. If he were here now he’d offer you this home. It would just sit empty until someone finally decided to sell it. Let him take care of you one last time, please.” Rebecca adds.

You and Bucky looked at each other before he spoke up. “Ok, we’ll take it.”

“Wonderful. We’ll clean it out for you and you can keep whatever furniture you’d like. You can change whatever you want in it. And if you need anything all you have to do is let us know.”

You all stood and headed to the main door and exchanged hugs.

“You have no idea how great it is to see both of you together. You deserve to be happy.” Rebecca said.

“Even though you’re technically younger than us, you’re still our grandparents and we’ll be here for you for whatever you need.” George added.

“Thank you. It’s very kind of you to help us like this.”

“It’s the least we could do, you are, or rather were, the best grandmother a kid could have asked for.”

You hug Georgie again and then Rebecca.

“I can still be that if you’d like. We can have Sunday dinners together. How about that?”

“Just like the good old days.” Rebecca said. “We’d love to.”

“Once we’ve settled in then, I’ll call you and let you know so the whole family can come over.” You inform them.

“It’ll be good. Steve has been asking about seeing you guys again.”

“So it’s settled. We’ll see you soon.”

~~~~~~~~~~

A year and a half later.

Most of the nieces and nephews and great grandkids had all left already. James was asleep in his room. The only ones left were Georgie, Rebecca, Sam, Steve and Nat. You all sat at the dinner table still trading stories. Bucky takes your hand and intertwines his fingers with yours. You look over at him and give him a little nod and a smile which he returns.

“There’s something we’d like to tell you.” You say, getting everyone’s attention. “I’m pregnant.”

Everyone stares at you for a moment before they start congratulating you and Bucky. Sam and Steve take money out of their wallet and hand it over to Nat who is smiling smugly at them.

“What’s that about?” You ask her.

“I told them that you were acting differently. I said you were pregnant, they didn’t believe me so we bet on it.”

You laugh as you turn back to the others. Sam and Steve came up to hug you and promise to be the best uncles, but you knew that already with how they treated James. Next were Rebecca and Georgie who also promised to be there for you however they could.

****

You were exhausted by the time you laid down in bed. Bucky walked in a few minutes later after checking to make sure all the doors and windows were locked and the alarm was set on.

The bed dips behind you as Bucky lays down and immediately pulls you into his chest. His hands immediately rest on top of your very small baby bump and he kisses your shoulder.

“Today was good.” He murmurs.

“You say that every night.” He can hear the smile in your voice.

“Any day I get to hold you like this is a good day.”

“I love you Honey.”

“I love you sweetheart. And I love this little bean too.” He says as he smooths a hand over your belly.

“Little bean?”

“Yeah, we don’t know if it’s going to be a boy or a girl yet.”

“I think it’s going to be a boy.” You say confidently.

“Nope. It’s going to be a girl, I just know it.”

“You would be good with a little girl.”

“Can I ask you something, sweetheart?”

“Anything you know that.”

“Why didn’t you ever tell me you were pregnant? You sent all those letters but you never mentioned it.”

This time you turn so that you’re fully facing him. You can tell it’s been weighing on him, the not knowing.

“It’s going to sound stupid. I didn’t tell you because I was afraid that if you knew I was pregnant you wouldn’t be thinking clearly out there. I don’t know, maybe you’d be afraid of getting hurt and would make a mistake and then you’d never come home. Now with everything I know I feel guilty that you never knew about him back then.”

“Don’t, I probably would have been distracted. I mean even back then all I wanted was to get back home to you. That was my only reason to fight as hard as I did. I think I would have been more afraid to fight if I knew about James. It could have been worse, I could have actually died. But I’m home now, we’re together and that’s all that matters.”

“It only took about eighty years.” You smile before pulling Bucky down for a kiss.

This new life you had was strange. You didn’t really belong in the current time you were in but you did belong with Bucky. The city was different, the only people you knew were your family and the Avengers. There was no one left from your previous life but you’d trade all of those things at a chance to be with Bucky.

Because Bucky had always been it for you. Whether it was in the 40s or eighty years later.

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allandoflimbo · 11 months

Text

I C E P R I N C E S S 11

Pairings: Popular Girl!Reader x Outkast!Bucky

Explicit Content - Smut - NO MINORS

Summary:

Bucky Barnes is the quiet boy who gets picked on.

The Reader and her friends run with the popular crowd at Stark High.

As the Winter Ball approaches, she is partnered with Bucky Barnes for a class project. They grow close in an inadvertently secret friendship, which later turns into love.

Only catch is…she’s Steve Roger’s ex girlfriend, and before she was partnered up with Bucky, her friends had planned to use and turn Bucky into Stark High’s new it boy to try and get back at Steve; a disgusting bet.

Another catch: She’s a figure skater at the town’s arena every Tuesday and Thursday nights. Bucky works part time at the rink resurfacing the ice. The other doesn’t know.

Modern AU High School fic - later goes into adulthood.

M A S T E R P A G E - FULL SERIES

Warnings: This story will have a lot of angst, a lot of fluff, a lot of cursing, and a lot of sex. Oral, praise kink, body worship, overstimulation, etc. you know me. There will also be loss of virginity in this.

Please support your content creators and writers and leave a review.

PREVIOUS CHAPTER

A/n: The chapter you've been waiting for. Smut ahead. Reminder that everyone is 18 or older and consenting adults. :)

The Cabin

The day had started a little awkwardly. Everyone had to find their rooms and unpack. Sam and Bucky were rooming together, Matt and Steve, you and Sharon, and Carol was with Monica. There was a spare room for if your friend Nat decided to arrive tomorrow.

You had spoken to Bucky only briefly, he'd been acting awkward since Steve showed up. He was always so chatty but now with everyone around, it was like he reverted to not speaking as much.

But you don't miss his eyes the way they stay with yours.

Now the popcorn was popped, and the pizza was baked. Closing in a eight pm, the lights were off and the fire in the fire place was blazing. Your eyes would meet across the circle as everyone talked to each other.

At one point, you decided to go into the kitchen for a can of soda when you heard footsteps behind you.

You turned around and the blue-green eyed boy smiled at you.

"Hey." He says.

"Hey, Steve."

You feel a bit awkward as you move through the kitchen and closer to him.

"How are you doing?" He asks softly.

"I'm alright," you answer, you push a strand of hair behind your ear and cross one of your arms over your chest, "takes time, ya know?" You add a chuckle in for the sake of you me sanity. He knows you're talking about multiple things. Your break up, his cheating, your accident, your recovery. He knows you've changed in the last six months and he's admired the girl you've become. He would always respect you.

"How's skating going? I missed your last one. I'm sorry."

You swallow hard.

He sees a far away sadness in your eyes before you respond.

"It's okay." You whisper. You look away from him and to the ground, "I miss him, Stevie."

Steve reaches forward and cups the back of your neck with his right hand.

You blink away tears as his thumb runs over the scar there.

"Oh, Y/N." He says.

"I never thanked you properly for being there for me."

He smiles at you.

"I'll always be there for you."

It's then that you both hear someone walk into the kitchen. You look over to see Bucky standing in the entrance mid step.

You don't know why you overthink the situation. Maybe it's the way he eyes Steve's hand on your neck.

Bucky feels like he's suddenly intruded on something he didn't want to see, even though he had no right to not like it.

"Sorry, I didn't mean—" Bucky mumbles, about to turn back around.

"No, it's okay." Steve says, dropping his hand away from your neck, "Bucky, right?"

Bucky nods.

"I was just telling Steve about my brother," Steve is momentarily shocked, not expecting you'd be so transparent with Bucky, but he doesn't mind. If anything. It just peaks his interest. He doesn't miss the way your eyes soften and the way your voice has taken on a new tone. Bucky clears his throat, "he was there for me through it all when it happened so he knows everything."

It's meant to console Bucky. You don't know why you feel the need to justify this position and make Bucky reassured it's nothing happening. But the words do the opposite of console Bucky.

"I understand." Bucky says. He forces a smile and your eyes meet once more. You're the one that swallows hard this time, "but really it's fine. Just wanted to let you guys know they're about to start a game. I think telestrations or something."

You and Steve both nod and Bucky leaves.

Steve clears his throat and turns to you with a knowing smirk.

You frown at him.

"What?" You ask.

"He likes you."

You blush as you look away from him. You let out a small chuckle.

"No, I don't think so." You say quietly.

Bucky didn't like you. Did he?

"Please. The way he was looking at you?"

You shake your head to yourself remembering all the things Bucky said to you at the restaurant.

"He'd never like someone like me. He's said so himself."

"A sweet girl like you?" You don't say anything as you stare back at the entryway Bucky just walked out of, "and something tells me you like him, too." Your eyes flicker to his at those words.

—-

"That's not fair! You cheated!" Sam yells.

"How the hell did I cheat?" Steve exclaims with laughter.

"You and your damn drawing skills, that's how."

"This game doesn't even keep score." Carol says, "get over it." She rolls her eyes.

Sam glares at her as he reaches for the Grey Goose bottle, downing the rest of it in one go.

You raise a brow at him.

"Sore loser alert." You mumble.

Everyone laughs.

"You know what, y/l/n?" Sam says once he puts the bottle down.

"What?" You ask playfully and smirking.

He squints at you and a smile fills his face.

"You're lucky you're cool or I swear." He says.

"Alright, enough of this shit." Matt says, reaching over for the telestrations box and packing up everyone's little notebooks.

"Hey!" Sharon protests, "we weren't done."

"I don't care Sharon, let's play a real game. Anyone up for truth or dare?" Matt says with a smirk, "an X rated version?"

You're biting at your bottom lip as your eyes migrate towards Bucky on the couch next to Sam. You pull out your phone.

Let's ditch everyone. Want to see something cool?

You send him the text. You watch as he frowns when he feels the vibration in his pocket and pulls out his phone. He reads your text and smiles.

| Sure. Go ahead I'll be right behind you.

You smile as you read his response. You clear your throat as you stand up.

"I'll be right back, guys." You announce, pulling your black hoodie down.

Sharon looks up at you with furrowed brows.

"Where are you going?" She asks.

"Just outside for a bit. I'll be back." You say.

Bucky feels the butterflies in his tummy as he watches you walk out the cabin and into the night air.

He takes a sip from his Coca Cola can and then places it on the table next to him, next to a stack of Uno cards.

"Alright, who's going to start?" Matt asks, obnoxiously excited. His eyes dart over to Bucky knowingly, but Bucky's patience is wearing thin:

"I have to excuse myself, guys." Bucky says, throwing everyone except Matt a smile.

The girls all smile back at him and Sam and Steve give each other a knowing look with a small smile.

"Okie dokie." Sam shouts, "be safe out there."

Matt's face is in a hard glare as his nose flares, eyes not darting away from Bucky.

He can't help the scorn as Bucky follows behind you out the door.

"I'm tired. I think I'm gonna head to bed." Carol says, yawning.

"Me too." Steve says.

"Same." Sharon.

"You're a bunch of old people." Matt mumbles, marching away.

—-

"Where the hell are we going?" Bucky asks you, following across the large open field and into the woods.

You smile faintly.

"You'll see," you look over at him and smile. His eyes meet yours in an intense stare, and his gaze follows the bridge of your nose, "you trust me?" You ask so quietly he almost doesn't hear you.

"Yeah." He doesn't even hesitate to respond.

"Come on." You say.

You two walk for about three more minutes. Through heavy trees and over a small river that has a log connecting one side to the other as a bridge.

He halts when you stop in front of him. His eyes follow your gaze to the white building standing in the middle of an open field.

It's a white church with black shudders, completely abandoned and half falling apart.

"This is creepy." He says.

You giggle.

"You're safe, don't worry," you grab his hand and you lead him into the church. The moldy wooden floorboards creek beneath your feet as you step inside, letting the heavy black door close behind you.

You look up at Bucky. His jaw is sharp, handsomely perfect, and his eyes take in the terrifying dark space. Half the ceiling is caved in, exposing the night black sky.

"Stay here." You tell him.

"What?" There's a certain fear in his voice that you find adorable, "where are you going?" He asks as he watches you walk into the abyss of darkness.

You don't respond and Bucky shifts his weight from leg to leg anxiously. He says your name once more and nothing. He licks his lips and is about to decide to disobey your order when he hears a loud bang and a humming sound. Then he sees you perfectly clear as you walk back to him.

He can see you because there's a large chandelier hanging from the partial ceiling that he hadn't seen before and it's hundreds of bulbs glow a bright orange above you. He's speechless as his heart beats like crazy inside of his chest.

You're giving him the brightest smile he's ever seen in his life and you're glowing like the sun. You looked breathtaking.

You motioned your arms around you to show him to look around and he does. The whole church is glowing and it looks beautiful. Almost as beautiful as you.

"How—" he starts, his voice fading off.

"I found this place a couple years ago when we first started coming here."

"Alone?"

"Alone." You confirm.

"You've never showed anyone else?"

There's a beat of silence.

"No. Just you." You say.

You watch him intently as he walks up to you. He's giving you a look you can't identify. Then he smiles wide.

"I don't know if I should be scared of you or..."

You tilt your head at him.

"Or?" You ask.

You both hear a rumble and your eyes dart up to the sky. Somehow you had both moved to the center of the church.

"I don't know. Something. You're interesting." He whispers, looking back down at you.

You don't realize how close you both are. You're too caught up in this moment to tell.

"You're something, too." You say, a smile pulling at your lips.

He laughs.

And just like that, the skies open up and the rain begins to pour over the both of you.

You look up and laugh.

"We're going to get sick." Bucky chuckles.

The rain picks up even more and Bucky stares down at you. You're soaking wet. Your hair glues to the side of your face and to your shoulders. The rain drops dangles over your lips and your eyelashes.

Somehow, he finds himself grabbing your hand. You squeeze each other tightly.

The lights flicker above you until they finally shut off completely. The rain was getting worst.

Bucky doesn't say anything as he pulls you behind him in the darkness.

For the first time in a long time, you feel truly safe.

Out the church, you both speed walk towards the woods. The trees help a little to shelter you from the rain but it still continues to wet you nonetheless. The cold air didn't help either.

He guides you across the log that's laid over the river, his hands holding your waist. Through more woods and more mud, you're both practically walking puddles.

Both escape the woods and the cabin comes in straight view.

You both make a run for it through the sheets of water, your hands still clasped tightly together.

You find yourself slipping on the mud beneath your now dirty shoes and it causes you to slide to the side and towards the grass.

Bucky laughs out loud as he catches you and you laugh too.

He's got you until you're steady back on your feet and you continue your run inside.

You're at the front door and his hand keeps slipping from the doorknob. He chuckles as he watches you getting even more wet, if possible.

You looked goddamn adorable.

He finally manages to get the door open and he closes it quietly behind you. You're both still laughing and your shoes squeak over the floor. The cabin is dark, a clear sign that everyone was already asleep,

Bucky is still laughing and your mind is in a daze. You're giggling non stop. Your back is against the wall next to the stairs that leads up to the other rooms and he's standing right in front of you, laughing and smiling non stop.

You place both your hands on his chest as you giggle, and suddenly he's right up against you. Your hands slide up until they are near his shoulders. You can feel him rumbling beneath your hands as he laughs and whispers something you can quite understand.

"Shhh, shhhh..." you tell him playfully between giggles. He giggles and his eyes crinkle at the sides, "shhh." You say again.

Eventually his giggles dial down, as do yours, and silence engulfs you both.

The rain patters against the glass and ground outside.

Your eyes follow his piercing blue eyes and how they're looking into your own, and then they travel down his nose, and to his lips.

There's no more laughing.

Bucky leans his forehead down against yours and closes his eyes.

Oh, this, this felt like a thousand burning suns.

You find your hands on either side of his neck as his nose hits yours. You both smell like a fresh thunderstorm.

With a sigh he opens his eyes. His left thumb runs over the tops of your cheeks and your eyes meet again.

You feel like you're going to implode when he starts to slowly move in. You find yourself meeting him halfway.

Both of your eyes are halfway closed as his lips finally run over yours in a soft but languid peck.

You're both still when he pulls back just enough to meet your eyes again.

In total sync, you both move in at the same time, smashing your lips together in a passionate and dirty kiss.

You find your hand going to the back of his head, near the nape of his neck, and you deepen the kiss even further.

The sound Bucky makes as he tilts his head for better access, letting his tongue run over yours, makes your core tingle and your insides burn.

His right hand is on your waist traveling upwards to your neck. His left hand is cupping your face. The sighs of contentment that you leave on each other is magical and a language of its own.

He slows down his kisses and then fully stops. You're going to ask him what's wrong when he grabs your hand and starts to walk up the stairs.

You've never felt like this before.

This was a first for you.

Your heart skips a beat as you watch him find the spare room that was being unoccupied.

His fingers run over yours as he opens the door and pulls you inside. He locks the door with an audible click and neither of you waste an extra second.

Your kisses are hot and frantic. He's pushing you to walk back towards the bed and you sit on it on your knees. You grab his shirt in a fist and pull him to follow you.

Once he's also on his knees in front of you, he grabs your wrists and leans back to look down at you. Both of your lips are swollen and both of your eyes are dark.

He runs his hand once more over your chin and to the back of your head where your hair runs between his fingers. He leans his forehead down against yours.

Suddenly, you're both nervous.

You've never done this before. You wonder if he has.

You're so shy right now but also so scared; in the best way possible.

"You want this?" His question is hoarse and three octaves lower than it normally is.

You nod.

He kisses you one more time and then his fingers go to the hem of your soaking wet sweatshirt.

Once he pulls it off you, your skin feels much colder and crave his touch. You've got a black tank top on and you help him remove that, too.

You were beautiful. Your perky breasts are the sweetest things he's ever seen and your nipples are hard against the cold air. Left hand to your neck, he kisses you again, letting your tongues dance together.

This time, you help him pull off his own black sweatshirt. He has nothing underneath and your hands immodestly goes to his pecks and down his torso. He shivers underneath your touch.

You're not sure what to do. Since you've never done this, you don't know how much is too much yet. You've only read about scenes like this in books and fanfiction but doing it in real life felt so much scarier.

You knew it was because it was your first time, it would get easier, but you wished it wasn't this scary. Every move you make is determined but hesitant. You're afraid of disappointing him. You wanted this to be perfect.

But you knew that if this was his first time too, it wouldn't be romance book perfect.

But as he removed your shoes and pants, and when you were both just in your underwear, you realized it didn't have to be perfect and that's what made it perfect.

It wasn't about who did what but about what you were trying to express to each other. You hoped deeply that he was feeling the same thing you were.

He's hovering over you. The pillow is behind your head and he's got his left forearm over it. His right hand is on your waist where he rubs soft circles just over your underwear.

You both kiss again, this time his lips catching your bottom one beautifully.

"Bucky." You whisper, hating to break the silence but knowing that communicating is going to be important right now.

"Yeah?" He asks just as quietly, his thumb running over the top of your head.

You maintain eye contact as you shimmy your underwear off and down your legs. Bucky gulps, his eyes darting down as he watches you.

He doesn't miss the way you close your legs involuntarily to shy away from his eyes.

No one has even seen that part of your body before.

"Please be gentle with me." You say.

He whimpers at your words. Not because he doesn't like it but because you sound so sweet.

"Of course," he says, his right hand going to the outside of your thigh. He kisses you again and you moan against his mouth, "I'm scared." He freezes up at your words. Did he do something you didn't consent to? Did he scare you? Shit. He starts to pull away from you but you grab onto his neck again, "I know it's going to hurt, that's why I'm scared. It's not you. It's that part of me, I never...and I've always heard..." your voice starts to fade away as small tears fill your eyes and he starts to realize what you were saying.

Bucky doesn't know why he'd always assumed you and Steve had slept together before. Maybe it just seemed to him like it made sense. You and Steve were together for so long and were eighteen already. Bucky wonders why it never happened.

But he's also feeling something else. He's feeling special and prideful. Because you, god how he treasures and admires you. He would never do anything to hurt you ever again and the fact that you will be each others first, it sends a fire through his heart.

He's so happy it's you and he hopes you feel the same way about it.

"I will never hurt you," you trust him immensely even though you know that what he's about to do to your body he has no control over how it will feel. At least not much control, "I've never done this either." You kiss him when he says that, "it won't be perfect, but that's okay." You whimper, "we'll have other times after this one." He says against your lips. You chuckle at his words, finally feeling more at ease. His words lighten everything for just a moment, but that's it.

"Can I touch you?" He asks against your lips.

You nod.

His lips leave yours and they move to your collarbone. He leaves you three pecks there, then he moves his face back to hover over yours again. It's then that you watch as he dips two fingers into his mouth and then down to your core.

You moan quietly as he rubs your clit in small circles. He responds to your moans with his own and he watches your face. Your eyes are closed and the smallest of pants and gasps leave the break of your lips.

"So beautiful." He whispers.

He gains more confidence when he watches you lick your own fingers. You meet his hand.

"Put them inside me." You tell him desperately.

Buck gulps and nods his head. He's never done this. He's watched porn before but actually doing it was different. He doesn't want to disappoint you.

He slides his fingers further down your folds, he gathers something of what's leaking out of you on to his fingers and then slides into you bit by bit with his pointer finger. Then he adds his middle finger.

He stretches his left arm above your head as he looks down at what he's doing to you. He gains confidence and his fingers gain speed and technique, making a come-here motion as he watches you unravel underneath him.

Your hand leaves your clit as his own palm starts to do the work for you.

"Oh, fuck." You groan. It sounds so filthy along with the squelching noises around you and Bucky knows he won't last long the second he's inside of you. He's taking pride in when he sees how he's giving you so much pleasure right now.

He quickens his movements, and you lean up on your arms, looking down at him work you. Your left leg widens a bit and you start to meet his hand with your hips as you feel your end approaching.

You don't care how loud you might be panting and the noise the mattress might be making over the bed. This felt unworldly.

You feel so close that you start overthinking it. What if you became too sensitive and it made the pain worst?

In a matter of seconds you have your hand on Bucky's wrist, stopping him.

You're still panting as he looks at you confused. You don't pull out his fingers, you just hold onto him. You both share a sloppy kiss.

"I want you inside me." You say against his lips.

Bucky keeps eye contact with you as he nods.

He pulls his fingers out of you and your hands go to his boxers.

Bucky hisses when his dick is free. He's already leaking precum and is as hard as a rock. This might be your first time but you know he might not last very long.

That's okay.

Bucky gasps as he feels your small hand wrap around him. It feels softer than you thought it would and heavier. His legs tremble over you as you stroke him once and then twice.

"Fuck,—" he grunts. You look up at him and god if he doesn't look absolutely gorgeous and perfect. He had his own hand on his abdomen as he looked down at you work him just right, "stop, stop." He whines, pulling you off of him.

He grabs your hand and folds your fingers with his. He holds it on the pillow next to your heard. Then he's over you again, and he looks completely enthralled by you.

Your right hand goes to his cheek as you lean up and kiss him softly.

Bucky's thumb from his other hand drags over your top lip.

This was it.

You feel him maneuver and then you feel it. His tip runs from your clit all the way down to your entrance and back again.

You can tell he's already so close and you're so apprehensive.

"I'll go so slow for you, okay? Okay? You don't have to worry with me. I gotcha." He reassures you.

You can only nod as you feel him prepare.

The first inch push isn't so bad. The second still isn't terrible but he can tell you're starting to tense up. You're gnawing at your bottom lip as you stare down. He stops.

"Hey, hey," he says gently, cupping your face, "your tense. Shhh." He wipes the tear that runs down your cheek.

"I'm sorry." You say.

"Don't be sorry. I just need you to keep remembering what I promised you." You nod again.

He waits a few more seconds and then continues. It's the fourth inch that does it for you and you find a shout getting stuck in your throat. It doesn't come out because you're biting so hard on your bottom lip.

"Shh, shh," he says softly, "I got you. I got you."

He keeps going further in and the sting you feel hurts bad, making you almost move up the bed. You gasp, your hand going to his toned abs.

"God." You groan.

"Almost there." Another and another and another.

You shake your head back and forth.

"Just do it fast, Bucky. It's okay." You tell him.

Bucky leans his forehead down on yours and nods.

You close your eyes tightly together until you feel him flush up against you. He starts with soft thrusts that make you cry softly, but after a few seconds, it starts to go away and you find yourself trying to find his lips.

He moans as you both share a deep kiss and as his hips pick up in speed.

He pulls away from your lips and he moans. It's so hard to keep it quiet when you know everyone outside could hear you. But the sound of skin slapping on skin and your little breaths are too noticeable.

He feels so good inside you, and the way he rubs your clit perfectly in sync with his movements has you feeling amazing.

His thrust get faster and harder and you can see the sweat on his chest.

"I'm sorry, fuck, I can't—" he whimpers, his eyes closing tight. His mouth opens in a gasp as he rams hard into you just once and he's grunting out loud.

You knew this would happen and it doesn't surprise you. It also doesn't disappoint you. You gave him pleasure and you were his first as he was yours. This was everything you wanted.

You let him spill into you and you run your fingers through his hair, pulling his face closer into the crook of your neck where he places little kisses.

He does something you don't expect.

He doesn't stop moving. You know he must be in pain from being over sensitive but he's on a mission for you.

He wasn't going to be a cliche first time where his girl doesn't cum.

"Come on, baby," he mumbles into your neck, his tongue dancing over your hot skin. You feel his fingers on your clit and he starts flicking you fast and hard, "come on." He repeats.

He's practically sobbing at this point as he works overtime to try and get you to cum and fuck, you do.

You cum hard.

You're groaning and moaning and gasping as you grab onto his head and back, eventually your left hand going to the pillow behind your head. You move your hips faster against his rod until you know you've coated him entirely in your cum. Your movements slow down as does his and all you can hear is your heavy panting.

"Oh my god." Almost inaudibly and more to yourself than anything.

He kisses your neck again. He lifts himself just slightly to pull out of you.

He lays down next to you, facing you, and pulls the covers over the both of you.

You're staring at each other, completely lost in the other.

He's trailing your features with his fingers and you're kissing his fingers as they occasionally pass your lips.

He leans forward and kisses your lips once more.

Then, sleep overcomes the both of you.

N E X T C H A P T E R

#Bucky Barnes #bucky x reader #Bucky Barnes smut #Bucky Barnes fanfic #mcu fanfic #marvel fanfiction #winter soldier fanfic #modern au

94 notes · View notes

fandomfluffandfuck · 9 months

Note

Ohhhh this is giving me Shrinkyclinks: https://www.tumblr.com/mommysorrydaddysorry/725315222821306368

Bucky spending months taking it slow with Steve, worried about his past, anxious about his many PTSD triggers, mindful always of how even without the serum he could bend his boyfriend like a twig.

Steve goes along with it. At first. Wants Bucky to be comfortable, is enamored with how Bucky gazes at him like he’s something precious. But Steve isn’t made to be satisfied with nothing but lovemaking. Not when Bucky comes home with someone else’s blood on him and his pupils blown with adrenaline.

Steve goads him, presses the buttons he knows by now, feels arousal slicing through every inch of his body as Bucky finally, finally manhandles him where he likes, pins Steve’s legs when he struggles. Bucky gathers Steve’s wrists in one enormous hand as the other, metal and unforgiving, works his ass open.

Steve hisses like a feral cat, straining with all his might and feeling like cum is about to come out his EYEBALLS when Bucky doesn’t budge an inch; just grips Steve harder, hand and wrist and fingers and splayed thigh, and fucks him like Steve never imagined he’d be fucked in his life.

[Link] to a photo of a large hand restraining the wrists of someone with smaller hands.

I Am Always Here For Consensual Angry Sex.

I Am Always Here For Consensual Adrenaline Filled Sex.

Always.

Perfect.

And this is so very in-character of Steve. 100%. He wants to come out of this bruised like an overripe peach. He wants to look like he went round for round with a grizzly.

Held down. Scratched. Bitten. Bruised. Handprints everywhere. All of it. Sore and unable to walk straight without wincing.

Bucky might feel regretful the first time when he sees what he's done to Steve in the morning with a clear head, but, shit, he's also so goddamn hard. Even if it makes Bucky feel bad. How could he do that to him? Why did Steve let him do it to him? ...When's the next time Bucky can do it again?

To persuade him over the line to feel fully alright with it, all it takes is a good, eye-to-eye conversation with true verification that Steve likes this. He wanted this. All of this. INCLUDING the morning after situation. No matter how "bad" it looks.

Okay... it also maybe takes a little extra convincing the next time for Bucky to fuck him like that again BUT-! Bucky works his way up to being fully comfortable soon enough. And when he is fully comfortable--

Oh, fuck.

That's when it's really on.

Bucky will maul Steve the night he comes back from a mission, then he will wake in the morning and instantly be on him again.

Steve sleeps longer than Bucky those nights, passed the fuck out, aching in the best way. If he weren't so worn out as to sleep dreamlessly, his dreams would be full of the filthiest kind of shit. Replaying every moment. Every moan. Every scream. Every desperate, crazed plead of Bucky to go harder, more, again, again!

But he doesn't dream those nights. He sleeps like the dead. So...

Bucky will wake up and admire his lil Stevie doll, sleeping beauty.

Bucky'll tease back the sheets, exposing his shoulders, then his back inch by inch, all the way down his spine, and take in the marks as the crisp, white sheet reveals them. One by one. He doesn't hiss or recoil. These days, he smirks. His works his jaw, swallowing thickly, remembering what he did to get that pretty shade of purple-red and the noise Steve made in response to it.

Fuck.

Eventually, he'll peel the sheets down to Steve's expose round ass to the morning light. The eighth wonder of the world, he swears--Steve's ass. How does such a tiny guy have such a great ass? Perfectly round and pert.

Bucky might pinch one of those marks, not too hard, he doesn't want to do anymore damage, he just wants to hear Steve make a sleepy little grumble. Bucky should make himself wait. He should let Steve get his sleep while he can. Let him recover. Rest. It's not that simple, though.

He looks like sin. He feels like sin. Bucky knows that well. He's experienced it so much. Just once more, though, just once more--

If he really is feeling weak, Bucky might squirm closer and leave butterfly kisses on the small, small of his back or leave actual kisses there or on his ass. He might take a nibble.

Usually, it's at that point that Steve wakes up, groggy, voice still raw from the night before, rendering him unable to speak--he can only hoarsely groan--but still communicating how he feels about this turn of events, Steve spreads his lithe thighs and grinds his oversensitive, soft dick against the bed.

He's not gonna be able to get hard, his body is ruined in the best fucking way, but it feels good. It still feels so good. Pleasure filling his body completely.

Yeah, yeah, yeahhh.

Steve wants. Before he's even fully awake again, he wants.

"Mornin' baby," Bucky rumbles into his skin. Steve tastes salty. Sweat and also tangy as a result of Bucky cumming over his ass, painting him, and rubbing it into his freckled, flushed skin. Just because, Bucky licks him. Marking him again. So what, he's a little possessive. Anyone who's got the pleasure of having his Stevie would be.

Steve groans, face down the pillows.

Now that he's awake, Bucky spreads his cheeks, taking a good look at the damage to his sweet, tight, little cunt, "oh, babyy," he croons, "look at this poor thing! You let somebody do this to you? Some big bad man? Take your virtue, huh? You're all puffy and red down here, darlin'. Think you should lemme make you feel better--"

Steve doesn't need the charm. He squirms and immediately buries his head deeper into the bed, crying out as loud as his ruined throat will let him. Yes.

Yes.

A rough, big man. Fucked him without abandon. Until he sobbed. Made to orgasm over and over again, not because that big, heavy man wanted to make him feel good, wring him dry, but because that man was using him, selfish, and it felt so good that Steve couldn't help it. Spilling over. Easy for it; so easy for Bucky.

Silently, Steve shakes when Buckys tongue laps at his poor cunt. His mouth falling open stupidly.

AH!

#asks #sail not drift #anon provided writing #bucky barnes #steve rogers #stucky

76 notes · View notes

harlequin-hangout · 1 year

Text

Consequences

Loki Masterlist | Bucky Masterlist

Pairing: Dom!Loki x Sub!Fem!Reader x Dom!Bucky

Warnings: SMUT, MINORS DNI Knife play, Denial, overstimulation, kink, honorifics

Contains: This is just porn. Straight Smut

Word Count: 3.1k

This fic includes Polyamory! I've used some terms that, as a Polyamorous person, are part of my life, but I also didn't learn them until I became Polyamorous. So! Here's a glossary, just so everyone can enjoy the fic without googling. Not all terms may be used, I wrote the glossary before the fic 😅

Throuple/Triad: Relationship involving three people that are all involved with each other

V: Relationship involving three people where one person is dating both of the other people but the second and third partners are not dating each other

Dividers are made by me! Want some for yourself? Send me an ask!

I do not nor will I ever give permission for my writing to be copied, pasted, reposted to other sites, or edited in any way shape or form. Seriously, just don’t.

A/N: This may be expanded on in the future, I haven't completely decided yet. Thank of blame @vbecker10 for this one, however it goes 😅😅

Two weeks. Two fucking weeks. You sigh and look at your phone hoping that maybe you’d missed a text in the three minutes you hadn’t looked at your phone, but you had no such luck. Bucky and Loki had been gone for two weeks – twice as long as was planned – and you hadn’t heard from them in three days. The mission had gone well, much better than expected, actually. It had gone so well that Pepper had immediately scheduled a week-long press tour. Your boys weren’t exactly the crowd favorites – one of them being an assassin and ex-Hydra operative, the other a god who tried to conquer your planet – but this could change all that. The tip they received had been a trap. If it hadn’t been for Bucky’s intimate knowledge of Hydra protocol and Loki’s magic, Steve Rogers and Tony Stark would be in critical condition, and Peter Parker would be dead. Hydra had been trying to take out as many of SHIELD’s top operatives as possible. Bucky had managed to spot things out of place, and had pulled Stark down out of the way of the explosion. He’d given Steve enough warning to move that the Super Soldier escaped with only some bumps and bruises, those would heal in no time. Peter . . . Peter had been mid-swing. The pillar had crushed his lower half. Thank god for his mutated genetics or he wouldn’t have made it long enough for Loki to get to him. Loki had managed to keep him alive just long enough for the QuinJet to get him to an intensive care hospital. He pulled through, and was due to be discharged from the ICU and sent to recover in the Avengers Tower medical bay next week.

A text from Steve lit up on your phone.

Message from: Steve Rogers

Y/N – Turn on your television, you’ll want to see this. – SteveYou smirked. No matter how many times you tried to bring that man into the twenty-first century, he still texted like an 80 year old man. At least he’d stopped sending letter-length texts in the group chat. Steve was the Avengers’ Golden Boy, but the Steven Rogers you’d come to know was every bit as bratty as you were. Not as submissive, that’s never a word you’d use for him, but bratty? Well, Doms are just brats who get their way. When he was vague like that, you knew he was up to something. You grab your laptop and open one of the national news channels that you knew would be carrying the conference. Tony stood behind the podium giving some kind of statement to the press before fielding questions. What on earth had Stevie Boy wanted you to – There we go. You smirked, he knew your style well.

The camera changed angles, and you could see your boys sitting in the back. Bucky had his headphones on, and they were both on their phones. Score. You immediately text Steve.

How long until you’re all home?

Y/N – Sometime after 2100, we will finish our last photo session at 2030, then make our way back to the jet. Pepper has already convinced Tony to leave the debrief for tomorrow. – Steve

Mischief spreads across your face. Steve, you sly bastard. Okay, what was 2100 on the twelve hour clock? It’s 2pm now, and that’s 1400, so eight . . . nine. Seven hours should be PLENTY of time to make them wait. You slip into your emerald green lingerie set – the strappy one that hugs your curves just right – and slip on one of Bucky’s casual leather jackets (the formal ones were the ones without knife marks or blood, but you were confident that the dry cleaner had been able to get all the blood out of this one). Planting yourself in front of the full length mirror, you sit on the floor and snap a few photos. Bucky’s jacket falling off of your shoulders, covered in Loki’s colors. Marking yourself as theirs. Smirking, you hit send in the Throuple group chat and watch the laptop screen. If this works, you have something much better in mind. Three . . . Two . . . One . . .

Message: Read

Bucky smirks, and Loki ever so discreetly raises an eyebrow on your computer screen. Wonderful, they’re paying attention. You grab the vibrator you keep for personal moments. Several settings and fifteen minutes later, you send an audio recording to that same chat with the caption “Headphone Warning 😈”

You run back to the laptop, and just in time. You see Bucky’s head snap up from his phone, then see him slowly pass the headphones to Loki. The God’s expression darkens, the lust poorly masked on his face. Your phone vibrates, a new message on your screen.

Group Message from: Loki

We land at nine. By the door. On your knees. No exceptions.

You could feel the butterflies forming in the pit of your stomach. This was definitely going to be a long night.

8:59pm: You kneel next to the door, sitting back on your heels. You’d brought a pillow for under your knees, knowing that you may be here for a while if the QuinJet was delayed.

9:07pm: The tower is silent. You squirm a little and consider getting up, but decide against it. You’d pushed your luck earlier that day, so you better do what you were told.

9:13pm: You hear the roar of the QuinJet engines. Your boys were finally home.

They took their sweet time getting ready. It was almost 10 before you found yourself kneeling on the floor with Bucky pressed against your back. His vibranium hand clasped your wrists. You could feel him pressing into your back, his muscles moving against your bare skin as his fingers worked their way up your thigh. You could feel his hot breath on your neck as he leaned down to nip at your ear, smirking as you whined. Loki clicked his tongue at the sound.

“Come now, Pet. Your little stunt during the interview has made things rather inconvenient for the Sergeant here.” Loki’s voice absolutely dripped with salacious intent. “Do you really want to make things that much harder on him?” Loki stared down at you, raising an eyebrow as Bucky gently pressed his hips against you. You felt your breath catch in your throat.

“N-no, My Prince,” you manage through Bucky’s teasing.

“There’s my good little Pet. Now, hold still.”

Loki was going to take his sweet goddamned time and there was nothing you could do about it. Every touch, every bite, hell, every look, was like electricity on your skin. You did your best to hold still, but the lust in Loki’s eyes made you squirm with need. You felt Bucky’s metal hand squeeze your wrists – a reminder to behave.

“C’mon now, Doll.” His voice was barely more than a whisper, breath hot on your ear. “Be good for the God, hmm? You had your fun earlier, now you need to deal with the consequences of your actions. Understand?” You whine as you feel Loki’s slim fingers ghost over your panties. You feel another squeeze on your wrists, this one a little harsher. “I said, do you understand?”

“Yes, Sir!!” You gasp. Bucky groans softly in your ear. The honorific does it for him and you knew it.

“There’s my sweet girl . . .” He nips at your neck as Loki stands.

“Pet, I’d like to bring out my knife to pay you back for your press conference stunt. Is that something you’re willing to indulge tonight?”

“Yes, My Prince, but can we use the dullest one please?”

“Of course, love. Thank you.” Loki’s expression softens, even if only briefly. “We’ll use the red light system this time, love. I intend to take. My. Time.” an ornate blunted knife appeared in a flash of green. This one was your favorite. You could feel the cool metal on your skin, but there was minimal risk of your skin breaking. “Sergeant, if you would.” Bucky released your wrists and stood, sliding his intimidating form back onto the couch. He watched, his eyes dark with lust, as Loki worked. While Bucky would never bottom, damn did he love watching Loki work. The man was a genius when it came to denial, and he loved the way your body squirmed as you screamed and begged for your release.

You felt a pressure on your legs as an invisible force began to pull at your thighs. You giggle excitedly, knowing exactly what’s coming next. You loved shibari and being suspended, but it did take a lot of time. You felt a pull between your legs – that must be his magical anchor point – as your body is pulled upwards. You find yourself hanging upside down, the bite of invisible rope along your thighs and ass, as you lazily spin, your feet hanging down by your ass.

“Hold still for me, Pet,” Loki purred. You breathe in and out, waiting. The anticipation was always the worst part . . . not knowing when you were going to feel the cool bite of the knife, your Prince’s firm grip on your skin – you moan softly as you feel a sharp line of pressure draw up your thigh. He’s starting slow, warming you up. The blade makes its way over your hip, up you side, and presses in a bit more at your ribs before disappearing. You whine at the loss of contact, then gasp as you feel the knife scrape down your spine, from your tailbone to the base of your neck. The pressure feels heavenly. You let your eyes flutter closed as you begin to bliss out, your surroundings becoming fluid. Floating there, nothing matters besides you and the pressure of that beloved blade.

It could have been minutes or maybe hours before you felt the pull of the rope switch.Your arms fold crossed on your chest as a gentle force moves you into the perfect position. The pull of the rope traced its way around your arms and chest. The invisible anchor point centers itself over your breastbone and wrists. You feel yourself slowly pulled upwards as the rope drops from your hips.

“Can’t leave you upside down for too long, Pet. Besides, I have other plans for you tonight. Look at you, so pretty covered in those little red lines of mine.” You hang at just the right height for Loki’s hand to snake its way around your neck as you lean your head back against his shoulder. Your feet still dangle in the air as the other hand traces the outline of your panties. His long fingers push the fabric aside as they draw a slow, teasing line across your entrance.

“Remember, not until you’re given permission.”

“I promise, My Prince, I’ll be good!”

“Good Girl.” Loki smirked as his fingers entered you, their pace already merciless. He expertly curled his fingers against your favorite spot, while his other hand tightened on the sides of your neck, allowing air to flow to your lungs but giving you a floaty light headed feeling that made the warmth pooling between your legs infinitely more intoxicating. Your whole world narrowed again as you felt the band tightening in your stomach, bringing you closer to that intoxicating edge. Your moans fill the room and you can feel Loki growing harder by the second when – Hands off. He immediately ceases all contact, and you whine at the sudden feeling of emptiness. Clicking his tongue, the god holds his slick fingers near your mouth, a silent order hanging in the air. You immediately open your mouth, your tongue swirling around his digits.

“Now, darling, you didn’t think it would be so easy, hmm?” You can hear Bucky’s dark laughter at your frustration somewhere off to the side, but your world is still hazy. Loki repeats his process again and again, you’d lost count of how many times. Squirming, writhing, begging, bargaining, nothing satisfied the God – your God – more than your frustration and suffering.

“Now,” Loki growled in your ear. “Are you ready to be a good little Pet for your God?”

“Yes!! Oh god yes, please,” you begged. Immediately you felt the ropes adjusting themselves again. Your feet hit the floor just long enough for Loki to pull your arms behind your back as another invisible harness forms, this time two anchors settling, one between your shoulder blades, while the other supports your hips but leaves your legs dangling towards the ground, toes barely able to scrape the floor. Your wrists are bound by the same invisible pressure as you’re lifted back into the air, ready to receive your God.

“How bad do you want to feel me, dove?” The thin grip Loki has on his composure was evident by the strain in his voice as he pressed himself against your ass.

“Please . . . plea–” You gasp as Loki presses into you. Giving you no more than a couple seconds to adjust, his grip is ironclad on your hips as he pounds into you. You moans fill the room as you’re reduced to a puddle, suspended in the air by nothing more than the will of your God. Loki works expertly, hitting your favorite spots over and over, bringing you to the brink of orgasm time and time again, but always you have to wait. You have to hold.

“Please, oh god, My Prince, please, I can’t last . . . I – I’m gonna–” you fight your orgasm, determined to obey your god’s orders. A hand tangles in your hair and pulls, Loki’s voice thick with lust in your ear.

“Cum for me pet, and worship your God.” You release, the building coil in your lower abdomen finally snapping as your orgasm rips over your entire body. Loki’s touch is electric as he eases you down. The last thing you remember is Loki’s heavenly moan before your vision fades.

“ . . .pet. Come back to us, darling, there’s my good girl. The Sergeant hasn’t had his turn yet.”

You open your eyes to see a now caring Loki holding you against his chest. You’re no longer suspended from your magical ropes. Bucky next to him, running his thumb along your cheek.

“Hey doll, how you feeling? Do you need a couple minutes?” You press your cheek into Bucky’s hand. Your heart always flutters when they’re soft with you, especially after a rough scene.

“No, m’good,” you manage. “Do whatever you want to me, Sir.” Bucky leans down and gently kisses your forehead.

“Mischief? Grab her hands for me. I wanna take my sweet time.” Bucky’s smirk was evident in his voice.

Loki chuckled, his voice deepening.

“Anything to help, Sergeant,” he smirked as his hands closed around your wrists. Bucky didn’t waste any time getting started, he had different plans than his godly counterpart. Bucky loved watching Loki work, the man had style. However, now Bucky was feeling a little like showing off. He pulled your ankles, pulling a squeak from your lips as he stretched you out, leaving your head in Loki's lap. He traced his hands slowly up your body, pressing your legs open and laying flat on his front. God, he loved how your legs shook when he nipped and kissed at your thighs. Hearing you gasp at the cold metal of his hand excited him, and he growled as he roughly pulled your panties off of you. He smirked up at you as you began to squirm under him.

“You have standing permission from me, Doll. Laufeyson may have wanted you to wait for your release, but I want to remind you what happens when you decide to play with fire.” Bucky could see Loki’s slender fingers squeeze your wrists, and then he got to work. He licked a slow strip up your slit, paying special attention to that ever-so-sensitive bundle of nerves at the top. He could hear you start to moan, only encouraging him. He pressed two large fingers inside of you, scissoring and curling them to find the sweet spot that he loved so much. You struggle to control your volume, back arching in the air as your head presses against Loki’s thigh. Aaah, there it was. Your hips started to buck already, your first orgasm quickly approaching. He can feel you begin to tighten around his fingers, only making him pump them harder, tormenting your favorite spots with a new devotion. He drapes his metal arm over your hips to hold you still as your first orgasm washes over your body. Taking no time for you to recover, he keeps pushing. At about three orgasms, you had lost your ability to control your volume. Thankfully, Loki took care of that for him, his lips crashing down on yours in an effort to keep the rest of the floor from hearing your extracurriculars. By six orgasms, Bucky could barely contain himself. He backed up just enough to give himself time to pull his hardened cock out of his pants and boxer briefs. You whined through Loki at the loss of contact, then moaned despite him as Bucky slid inside. You fit so nicely around him. So warm and tight, he gave you a couple moments to adjust once he bottomed out, then began to move. Slowly at first, relishing every gasp and moan that escaped your mouth. He reached down, starting to toy with one of your breasts, Loki’s hand quickly finding the other as his pace quickened.

“B-Buck– I mean Sir, pleeassse, so much . . . it’s so much I dunno . . .”

“You’re okay, Sweetheart, just one more for me, okay? Just one more. You’re doing so good, baby girl, just one more. Are you green?”

“Y-yeah, Green. Ahh!” you gasp as he picks up the pace, desperate for his own release as well as yours. As soon as you started tightening around him, it was over. Bucky came, and he came hard. He heard you scream his name, followed by a string of profanities. Breathing hard, he leans down and plants a tender kiss on your lips.

“There’s my good girl, you did so well for me.”

Loki had taken you to the shower to clean up. The bathroom was definitely Loki’s domain, Bucky didn’t know much about care products. Bucky grabbed the takeout he had ordered while Loki had his fun, set up the pillow fort in the living room, and queued up netflix. He heard you and Loki erupt into laughter, and he couldn’t help but smile. How someone like him had found two people that not only made him feel normal but loved – like he belonged, he’d never know. Even if nothing else made sense, he knew one thing. Even if your Triad was an unconventional relationship, he had found his family. Nothing could ever take you two away from him, and if anyone ever tried to use you to get to one of the Avengers, he had a partner in Loki who would help him burn the world to bring you home.

Tags: @vbecker10 @soubi001 @thomase1

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lillyoliviaaa · 1 year

Text

Their Perfect Angel 5

Summary ~ Steve Rogers and Bucky Barnes have always wanted someone that they can

love, feed, bathe, look after. Their dream finally came true after they saw you. Their perfect angel.

Bucky and Steve wake up to you babbling over the baby monitor, their hearts warm as they hear the sound of a baby. They wanted you to slip in your own time but this was much better. Bucky pulls Steve onto his chest and kisses his temple while smiling. “We’ve got our girl now Stevie.” They both smile to themselves, they can’t wait for today and the many more days to come.

They both get dressed eagerly ready to see their baby girl. They hold hands until they reach the nursery “You ready Buck?” The brunette grins and opens the door to see you babbling to your stuffed elephant. “Good morning my baby,” they both walk over and you make grabby hands at them. Steve picks you up and kisses your head, Bucky repeats the same thing and takes you from Steve sniffing in your scent.

Bucky walks over to the changing mat and strips you to find that you peed and pooped, if they hadn’t used the drugs you would still be struggling. You whine when you feel Bucky wiping your bum and your vagina, he gives you a sorry look and changed you into something else. You smile through your pacifier when you see Steve “Da - da - dada.” He walks over to you and blows raspberries on your tummy, your laugh fills the room.

You all make your way to the kitchen where Steve spoon feeds you “Here comes the aeroplane.” You clap your hands in excitement, Bucky smiles at the interaction of you and his husband, he can’t stop thinking how lucky he is right now.

Your day goes on with fun and excitement. Steve and Bucky enjoyed every single moment of it. They finally have their perfect angel.

#bucky barnes #daddy stucky x little reader #bucky barnes x little reader #daddy stucky #steve rogers x little!reader #steve rogers

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buckybringsviolets · 1 year

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Can I get a letter from 40s Bucky? Like an enemies to lovers one. Where he lists all the things that annoys him about her and then confesses that he actually loves them and her? A little angst to sweet sweet fluff?

Love>Hate

Hope this is what you had in mind!

40's Bucky X Female Reader

600+ words

No warnings except for lovesick Buck

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Little troublemaker,

You asked me why I hate you so I’m gonna tell ya. I’m gonna try to keep my cool and not curse, but dammit doll, no one makes my blood boil like you do. And before you go and call me chicken for not confronting you in person with this, I’m only writin’ you ‘cause I don’t want to catch heck from Steve.

Okay, here goes, right outta the gate, when we first met, at the age of 8. When Steve introduced you. “Bucky?! What kinda name’s that? Sounds like your ma & pa named you after a dog.” You then started giggling, Stevie joining in with ya. “It’s a nickname, short for Buchanan, my middle name.” I told you, a smirk on my face. And you just smiled at me.

Even then, so young, but such a know-it-all. The way you talked, like you know everything, rattling off facts left and right, Ol’ Stevie just listening to ya like you’re the smartest person alive or something. “Did you know that horses and cows can sleep standing but only dream when lying down?” you’d look so proud, waiting for me to say something. “Yeah, that’s really something sweetheart.”

Speaking of Steve, don’t think I didn’t notice how you worked your way into his heart, by the time we were starting middle school it became Y/N & Steve this, Stevie & Y/N that. Stevie said you always asked about me, wondering why I was around much, but I think you were just looking to tease me about something.

That summer, between middle & high school? The trip the 3 of us took to Coney Island? Not only did you chase away Betty McIntosh (she was a real cookie! 😍) but you won that stuffed bear, THEN gave it to me! Jesus, doll, I wanted to win one for you!

I’m not even going to start in on prom. Every girl I asked, every one, said no way, that I was too hung up on you. “Y/N?! Are you nuts?” then they’d say “Yes, y/n!” I honestly don’t know what you told them to say that. But you must’ve said something.

And now, the way you go out with these guys, active duty men, I nicely warn you about them, ask you where they’re planning on taking ya. And you get all feisty with me “that’s none of your concern Bucky!” Just me looking out for you, and you’ve gotta get all upset with me. Just being a gentleman and all I catch is flak.

Doll, I’m gonna be a bit honest here, you kinda stunned me with what you said. “Bucky, why do you hate me?” a look on your face like I ain’t never seen before, something like concern, maybe heartbreak? And me, hate YOU? That is most certainly not something I could ever feel for you.

From the first time I saw you, when Stevie said “ this is y/n y/l/n, she’s new in town.” I knew. I was hooked. Doll, you are everything to me and more. But how could I ever tell you just how perfect you are? Not when I’m so… so not perfect. So I pushed you away. For your own good. Convinced myself you were better off without a mess up like myself.

So hate is not what I feel towards, for, you. Love, adoration, deep affection, definitely. You are amazing, gorgeous, so amazingly smart, generous to a fault. How could I not adore you, doll face?

Now before you start screaming at me, cut me some slack. I know I’m a dope, Stevie lets me know that every chance he gets. I’m crazy ‘bout you sweetheart, so maybe my brains a bit fried.

How about you let me take you out? Little dancing, a quick bite to eat, try my damndest to make it up to ya. Because y/n, you are IT for me. The endgame. ‘Till the end of line doll.

My love, always

James Buchanan Barnes

#letters from bucky #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes x female reader #bucky barnes reader insert #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes fanfiction #james barnes x reader #james barnes x y/n #james barnes x you #james barnes x female reader #james barnes fluff #james barnes fanfiction #sebastian stan

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xoxobuckybarnes · 1 year

Text

January 2023 Stucky Fics

Completed

Tattoo Your Last Bruise (Rated: E, Words: 9K) by ftmsteverogers

Summary: “If you wanted, you could share the bed again,” Steve said, still studiously looking at the wall directly in front of him. “We used to do it all the time, before. It isn’t weird. Not for me, anyway.” Whatever Bucky had been expecting, that hadn’t been it. “Oh,” he said. “I’m gonna go brush my teeth,” Steve said, and disappeared down the hallway.

The Sweetest Spark (series) by deadto27 / @deadto27

The Sweetest Spark (Rated: E, Words: 73K)

Summary: Steve Rogers runs a successful business. He has great friends and a great life. It seems like he has it all. So why is he sitting in a diner on a Friday night alone? Maybe he's just a little lonely. Maybe Bucky Barnes can help with that.-----It wasn’t just how he looked. Of course, the fact that he was ridiculously stunning was what Steve had noticed first when he’d spotted him across the diner and had left him staring with his mouth open before he’d realised what he was doing, but how could he not?...Or: basically everything I love in a Steve and Bucky fic rolled into one.

We Agreed To Love Each Other (Rated: E, Words: 14K)

Summary: Steve and Bucky tie the knot. Follow up to The Sweetest Spark. Pure fluff.-----“It’s just one night, Stevie,” Bucky reminded him. “Then you’ll be stuck with me for every other night after that. Until. You. Die,” Bucky said ominously, pronouncing each word as a sentence, poking Steve in the chest.

We Got Bad In Common (Rated: E, Words: 41K) by LolitaBlue

Summary: "You better be quiet if you don't want anyone to hear us," Steve cautioned. "Wouldn't want everyone knowing your dirty secret." "Oh, shut up," Bucky panted. "Get a move on and fuck me like you hate me." "I'm about to." ----- AKA I've been manically typing a stucky enemies to lovers high school au... welcome to the bad love!verse

***This fic is complete, but the series (bad love!verse) is not***

wanna do bad things with you (Rated: E, Words: 5K) by LolitaBlue

Summary: Sitting on the couch next to Steve was a stunning brunette girl with bright red lipstick. She was wearing a tight black sweater and jeans, her curly hair subtly tousled. Bucky looked back and forth between her and Steve, stunned. Her cheeks were almost as red as her lipstick and Steve's mouth also had a rose-colored tint. Bucky blinked a few times, realizing what was going on. Steve's lips don't get that red from kissing alone. Bucky knew that, he's seen those lips swollen and spit-slick on numerous occasions. Steve's mouth was red because he'd been kissing the undeniably hot chick pressed against his side and her lipstick was smeared on his face. "Uh, hi Bucky," Steve said, clearing his throat. When Bucky didn't say anything, Steve took it upon himself to fill the awkward silence. He gestured to the girl who was frantically smoothing down her hair. "I'd like you to meet Peggy Carter."

***This fic is complete, but the series (bad love!verse) is not***

i’ve traveled half the world to say "i belong to you" (Rated: E, Words: 14K) by steviepie

Summary: “I got my family, my team, my boyfriend, for that matter,” Steve says, the iciness in his tone having nothing to do with the temperature inside the rink. “I’m plenty taken care of, but thanks for asking.” “Plenty taken care of,” he echoes absentmindedly, arms crossing across his chest and his chin jerking up and down as he tries not to make his glare into the camera exceedingly obvious. It’s only after he’s spoken that he realizes that in doing so, he’s forgotten what else in this situation he’s supposed to be tampering down. Oh, fuck. Way to run their mouths. (alternative: steve and bucky but as hockey players who have been together since day one)

In the Air Tonight (Rated: E, Words: 8K) by otakugirl08x

Summary: Missing scene. In Wakanda; the night before Bucky goes into cryo Steve has a revelation.

Lessons in Normality (Rated: E, Words: 38k) by relenafanel / @relenafanel

Summary: Things Steve knows about his boyfriend Bucky: How he looks with his face relaxed in sleep. That he can perfectly flip pancakes. The way he’s open about things Steve is still adapting to, like therapy and depression and sex toys and being a millennial. The way he laughs with his mouth wide open and his eyes squinted, and the cheerful way he cheats at cards and loses at laser tag. The way he seduces Steve with a knowing glint in his eye. The way Steve responds to it, stronger each time, taken by his beauty and competence and snark and compassion (or the compassionate way he boots Steve in the ass when he needs a push).Things Steve doesn’t know about his boyfriend Bucky: That he’s an undercover operative gathering intel on Hydra, SHIELD, and which Steve is affiliated with. Otherwise known as The Honey Pot AU

All the Ways to Say I Love You That Don’t Work (Rated: E, Words: 22K) by buckybarnesdeservestobehappy

Summary: Finally free from the grips of Hydra, Bucky Barnes needs all the help he can get to acclimate to life in the twenty-first century. Steve's always at Bucky's side, providing support, explaining things, and throwing a reassuring arm around his shoulders, which gives Bucky all kinds of warm feelings. The other Avengers notice their closeness, as well. When Bucky overhears a discussion about whether or not Steve and he are dating, he isn't bothered. He likes being with Steve, and he likes being treated respectfully. Determined to let Steve know how much Bucky cares about him, he uses his research on modern dating to woo his best friend. As he ratchets up his campaign to catch Steve’s attention, sparks fly. Or maybe those sparks were there all along.

off the record (Rated: M, Words: 37K) by sparkagrace / @sparkagrace

Summary: The Avengers have a problem. Six months after the Battle of New York, public opinion is beginning to turn on them and they are in dire need of a PR boost. Reporter Bucky Barnes needs to impress his boss enough to get a promotion onto the Features desk. This assignment might get him there, but the fact that he really hates the Avengers is the least of his problems today…

fire escape (Rated: T, Words: 6K) by sparkagrace / @sparkagrace

Summary: “This dumb cat thinks it lives here.” Bucky is peering through the window of their one-bed apartment in Bed-Stuy. There’s a white cat outside on their fire escape that is practically a ball of fluff against the wrought-iron. Steve joins him at the window and coos. “Aw, it’s cute.” “It’s begging for scraps. It’s a scam,” Bucky gripes.— There's a cat that keeps coming to their fire escape. Bucky doesn't like it. Pre-series fic but can be read as a standalone.

***This fic is complete, but the series (al, pal and alpine) is not: the question (Rated: G, Words: 2K), the pancakes (Rated: T, Words: 6K), ballet shoes (Rated: T, Words: 3K), post-match (Rated: T, Words: 4K), london calling (Rated: T, Words: 10K), mouth bones (Rated: T, Words: 4K), & flower girl (Rated: T, Words: 3k)***

WIP

Treading Water (Rated: M, Current Words: 56K) by sparkagrace / @sparkagrace

Summary: Olympic swimmer Bucky Barnes always believed that when the time came to retire, he would walk away with his medals and world records firmly in the history books and never look back. He never thought the water would leave him first.

***Be sure to check out the rest of this amazing series : Lane Lines: Lane Lines (Rated: M, Words: 132K), Lumière (Rated: M, Words: 5K), & New Traditions (Rated: M, Words: 6K)***

***Also, check out the amazing artwork for this fic: Pick up your shirt from the floor (Rated: G) by Dyslexic_Fetus / @reagy-jay ***

Atoms (Rated: M, Current Words: 35K) by Andrea1717 / @andrea1717 & art by kahey2804 / @kahey2804

Summary: After a hard year and the end of both his military and his short career as a personal bodyguard Steve Rogers did not expect the call from his best friend and ex- colleague Sam Wilson. He offers him a job, full time and long term, starting on the next day. At first it sounds perfect to finally move forward from the devastating events in his past career and life - being one bodyguard in a group of four for a rich kid from a famous lawyer. How hard can that be? What Steve didn't expect was the kid - Bucky Barnes, twenty two, traumatized from his dark past, devastatingly beautiful and a real brat. After a while on the job Steve not only discovers that Bucky seems to play a role most of the time, he also discovers that parts of his heart who seemed to be dead for a while are very much alive.

An Appropriate Omega (Rated: M, Current Words: 177K) by BeauRadley

Summary: Steven Rogers, the Duke of Brooklyn, is in a bind. The provisions of his father's will mean he must marry before his thirty-fifth birthday or lose his mother's inheritance. The catch? He has to marry a suitable omega. James Barnes is the third child of the impoverished Barnes family. If he or his sister don't marry before the season is out, their family will fall further into poverty. If he doesn't find someone else soon, he'll be forced to marry the sinister Lord Pierce. The two men realize they can solve each other's problems, but will their marriage of convenience turn into something more?

Expect the Unexpected (Rated: E, Current Words: 178K) by SmutConnoisseur / @smutconnoisseur

Summary: While Navigating fatherhood along his angst a teenage son and balancing a career, Steve Rogers finds himself in the crosshairs of one James Barnes, a protective single father of his own.

#Stucky #Steve and Bucky #Steve Rogers #Bucky Barnes #fanfic #XOXOBUCKYBARNES' Stucky Fic Reading List #january reading list

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turtle-steverogers · 1 year

Text

When Steve was 7 years old, he came down with scarlet fever. It was a close one— his fever was high and it took him nearly a month to kick all of the symptoms. He was told after he got better, that he had to burn all his stuff. His bedsheets, his pajamas, everything.

Including his stuffed animals.

It isn’t like he has much. Ma and dad couldn’t afford to buy him a whole bunch of stuffies anyway, but he really loves the friends he does have. And he tries to be brave while his Ma takes them out to go into a fire, but it makes his stomach hurt so bad to know that he’s losing his friends and they’re gonna be so scared all alone, and he can’t help it. He starts to cry.

Bucky finds Steve like that after school, knelt on his front steps, head in his arms as he cries and Steve doesn’t wanna tell him why he’s crying, because maybe Bucky will think he’s a big baby, but Bucky tells him when he lost his old teddy bear at the park, he cried, so maybe it’s okay.

After that, Bucky decides he can help Steve get new friends, especially because he knows Steve’s family doesn’t have as much money as his family. So every time Bucky goes to the shops with his Ma and Dad and gets a new stuffed animal, he asks if he can get two— one for Steve, too.

The first time Bucky’s parents say yes, Bucky can barely contain his excitement the whole way to Steve’s tenement. He knocks on the door, two matching bulldog stuffies tucked under his arms, and nearly tackles Steve to give him his bulldog when he answers the door.

“Bucky? What’d you get?” Steve asks, taking the bulldog and squishing its plushy body in his hands.

“Ma and dad said I could get you a friend, too!” Bucky says, beaming. “‘Cause you were real sad when you had to give up all your old ones and I thought maybe you’d be happy if you got some more.”

Steve stares at Bucky for a long time, looking like he might cry, then looks down at the bulldog, squishing it to his chest. He sniffles a little.

“Thanks, Bucky. You didn’t have to.”

Bucky smiles, shuffling closer with his own bulldog. “‘Course I did. You were sad,” he says, like it’s as simple as that.

And it is. Being Stevie’s friend is the easiest thing Bucky’s ever done— he loves him a lot. Enough that they’re gonna get married one day, probably.

Steve launches himself at Bucky to give him a big hug, their stuffies squished between them.

“Thanks, Buck Buck.”

“You’re welcome, Stevie.”

#rediscovered velveteen rabbit and Had Thoufhts #steve rogers #stucky #bucky barnes #mikey screams into the void #stucky headcanon #stucky ficlet #kinda

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broodybuck · 6 months

Text

Title: Looking for Something Real

Pairing: Steve Rogers x Bucky Barnes

Rating: E

Tags: 18+ explicit smut, pornstars, no refractory period, emotional sex, love confessions, denial of feelings, retired Avengers, top Steve, bottom Bucky

[ao3 link]

It's not really complicated. It's quite simple actually. Steve and Bucky are best friends who both decided to enter the porn industry after retiring from saving the world.

It wasn't exactly a difficult choice when the serum has them both lasting for hours with no refractory period.

The only rule they decided was that they'd never fuck each other. They accepted jobs at separate production companies for this reason but even the producers were begging to make a deal. To get the former Captain America and former Winter Soldier to do the dirty. It's what everyone wants but Steve and Bucky discussed it. Their friendship isn't worth a price and they don't want to degrade it.

Steve never exactly told Bucky the real reason for this decision. He didn't so much care about capitalizing on the friendship. For Steve, it was more raw, deep, and probably a lot of other words that weren't meant to be innuendos for porn but go pretty well anyhow. Steve knew the second he got intimate with Bucky, he'd quite literally reveal to the world how hopelessly in love he is with the guy.

He's pretty sure he doesn't hide it all that well but then again, Bucky never seems to notice. Like how jealous Steve gets when they talk about work. Bucky casually mentions which pornstars he has to fuck or how this guy was rough with him or this other guy had to play tender for a marriage scene. Steve nearly fumes hearing the tales regardless of the fact, he does the exact same thing for work.

But god, hearing how other people are using Bucky like a toy, throwing him around, getting to come on his face — yeah, Steve's less than thrilled with that. But obviously, he can't say anything unless he wants to admit why he's jealous. And he's never gonna do that.

The most shameful thing Steve does is watch Bucky's scenes in the privacy of his own home. Of course, he's subscribed to the company that hired Bucky. And even if his best friend found out that fact, he would simply excuse it as supporting him. Bucky would readily accept that lie. What Steve really spends his money on, is the nights where he shamefully jerks off to Bucky's videos on loop. He's not kidding, he's watched them all countless times.

The truth is, the videos make him sick. To see people who get paid to vandalize his best friend. But he's also helplessly in love with the man so watching every angle of Bucky's naked body be played with, pleasured, and manhandled gets Steve off so fast he seriously can't stop. He's addicted to it, he watches Bucky every night. He knows he has a problem, he knows.

~~~

One night, Bucky is over for beers when he slams his phone down on the coffee table and curses.

"What happened?" Steve asks.

"Just bullshit," Bucky snaps. Steve eyes him worried and Bucky relents a moment later. "I'm so sick of guys having an issue with what I do for a living."

"You on the apps again?"

It's another harrow in Steve's life. Bucky has confided in him that he still wants an honest relationship, a true connection with someone, and he's yet to find one since they've both begun their porn careers.

"Yeah," Bucky groans, dropping his head in his hands.

"Is it on your profile — your profession?"

"Like it needs to be? Everyone knows who we are, Stevie. The whole world had something to say when we started doing this."

"Right, yeah," Steve says unsure how to make this any better. And all he wants to do is make this better for Bucky, he'd do anything to give him what he wants.

"I just want something real," Bucky sighs, gripping his hair in his hands.

Steve puts a comforting hand on his shoulder.

"I'm sick of playing everything up," Bucky goes on.

"You thinking of quitting?" Steve asks with surprise.

"I don't know," Bucky sighs, letting his hands fall. He leans back against the couch and closes his eyes.

Steve wants to kiss him so badly right now, wants to make every hurt feeling in his body float away.

"I'd support anything you wanna do, Buck," Steve tells him. "You deserve something real, you do."

Bucky opens his eyes and looks tiredly at his friend.

"Don't you want that?"

"What?" Steve plays coy.

"Love?" Bucky says.

Steve nods but he can't say anymore because if he does the words, I'm already in love with you might spill out. And that's the reason he never tries to date because no one else will come close. Steve already knows this.

"You don't do a good job of looking, Stevie," Bucky scoffs.

I'm looking at him right now, Steve thinks but shakes his head.

"Since when are we talking about me? Here lemme look at your profile," Steve offers.

"You've seen it."

"Lemme look again," Steve insists.

"I'm over it. The apps are shit."

Bucky sighs digging deeper into the back of the couch and spreading his legs unintentionally. It makes a warm flush spread over Steve's skin.

All Steve wants is to make this right. Maybe he could do something for him.

"Then lemme make it real," Steve says.

Bucky turns to him with furrowed eyebrows.

"Make what real?"

"One night. I wanna give that to you."

Bucky sits up, swallowing tensely and staring at him firmly.

"What're you saying, Stevie?"

"I'm saying," Steve pauses to take Bucky's hand in his. It feels so natural that his thumb skims over the back of Bucky's hand comfortingly. "I can give this to you. It won't be for a job. It'll be with someone who cares about you and wants to make you feel good."

Bucky swallows again.

"Steve... you're serious?"

Steve nods. More than you know, he wants to say but doesn't.

"Lemme do this for you," Steve nearly pleads.

Bucky holds his gaze a moment longer.

"I thought we said we'd never—"

"It's not a scene," Steve cuts him off. "This is real. It's what you deserve. And tomorrow, we'll still be best friends. Nothing's getting ruined."

Bucky's eyes widen slightly like he can't fully believe what he's hearing. At this point, Steve wants this so bad he'd fully beg.

"You're sure?" Bucky asks.

"Kiss me," Steve commands and leans forward an inch.

Bucky's eyes go a little wider but then he leans an inch forward. They're so close now only one of them needs to move to close the rest of the space.

It's Bucky who does. And their lips collide effortlessly in a long, spell-binding kiss that's better than Steve's ever imagined.

They break apart and stare at each other.

"That was nice," Bucky says like he wasn't expecting it to be.

Steve has a lot more confidence now and he easily cups Bucky's face and draws him back in for another kiss.

They make out slowly and leisurely make their way to their bedroom. It feels like a dream. Like Steve's floating through the air with the man he loves in his arms, on his lips, lying on his mattress. It doesn't feel real.

He undresses Bucky so carefully, it's like he's unwrapping a glass relic. Bucky lies openly for him, letting Steve pull and tug each article of clothing until he's naked. And sure, Steve has seen every inch of the man a thousand times. Online and in real life, they've never been shy around each other. But tonight, he looks different. He looks like he was placed here for Steve to love and cherish and devour.

Steve's restraint is quickly dwindling. He moves fast to remove his own clothes and Bucky sits up to watch. Steve's skin burns under his gaze. He's never undressed for Bucky like this, not for him. Steve rushes forward and kisses Bucky hard, holding his face in his hands. He wants more, he wants all of him.

"Damn, Steve. Didn't think it'd feel like this," Bucky breathes after the kiss, his eyes still closed.

Steve smiles, he can't help himself. He's always known it'd be like this. Amazing. Steve kisses him again and slides their naked bodies together as he lies over him on the bed.

Bucky's hips are already canting up, gliding their erections together. Steve has seen him do this a dozen times on screen but actually feeling him brush against him needily makes Steve think he might die from the arousal coating his body.

He presses down and grinds over Bucky's hard cock. It makes the man moan. And oh, Steve's heard that sound too many times to count but tonight it's just for him. That makes Steve dizzy. He grinds against him again, kissing a line up Bucky's neck, sucking on the soft skin. Bucky moans louder, clawing at Steve's back.

"Fuck, Stevie."

"Yeah, I got you," Steve whispers.

He gets up to reach into the drawer of his nightstand for lube. He pours some over his fingers. Bucky spreads his thighs on instinct. It makes a flame simmer low in Steve's gut.

"It's nice not pretending, huh?" Steve notes and he tosses the bottle aside and circles his fingers around Bucky's rim.

Bucky licks his lips, watching Steve's fingers prod at him gently.

"Not having to play the part, be extra loud, draw things out," Steve goes on, pushing a finger inside. Bucky breathes in sharply, then relaxes.

"I want you to enjoy this, Buck. Come whenever you want, however much you want. Don't even gotta tell me, 'kay?"

"Fuck," Bucky groans and arches up as Steve pushes a second finger in. "Getting me hot when you talk like that, Stevie."

Steve nearly grins but he focuses on his hands and curls both fingers to find the spot he's looking for. A familiar moan tells him he found it and he basks in the feeling. He's been dreaming about opening Bucky up for years — decades, actually — and now it's finally happening.

Bucky takes what Steve says seriously because when Steve's up to three fingers and starts pressing repeatedly on his sweet spot, Bucky just comes. Easy and quiet, Steve could've missed it if he wasn't watching every moment.

"Jesus, honey," Steve marvels. "Beautiful."

He frees his fingers and wraps them around the base of Bucky's cock and sucks the head in between his lips.

"God," Bucky whines, arching up, greedy for more of Steve's mouth. Steve's happy to give it to him.

He slides down to the root and sucks him steadily. Bucky lets out a small whimper, a sound Steve hasn't heard from him often. He revels in coaxing a new sound out of him. He sucks harder from the reward.

Bucky comes again. And this time, he groans low and squeezes Steve's hair in his fist. Steve sits up and watches Bucky calm down. He looks so relaxed, so blissed out from the pure pleasure radiating through him. And the best part is, they've barely begun. Steve launches forward with excitement and kisses Bucky hungrily.

"Gotta start making you come," Bucky mumbles in between kisses.

"It's all about you, sweetheart."

"No, it's not," Bucky protests and flips them around, shoving Steve down into the mattress under him.

He slides down and slips Steve's cock in his mouth. Sucks on the tip light and teasingly. Steve chuckles a little. He's seen Bucky do this too and he never thought he'd be on the receiving end of it. He lets Bucky tease him and thankfully it's only a few more seconds before he swallows him down.

Apparently, Steve's letting go too because he completely loses himself in it. He basks in the feeling of Bucky Barnes, the love of his life, sucking him off. Steve comes, faster than he's ever let himself but it feels too good not to.

Bucky's smirking at him when he opens his eyes. Bucky leans down to kiss him, one small peck on his lips.

"Haven't seen you lose it so fast," Bucky comments.

Steve stills for a moment, reality dawning on him.

"You watch my stuff?"

"'Course," Bucky shrugs casually and lies on Steve's chest leaving another small kiss on his mouth. "Gotta keep up with my competition."

Steve frames his face, combing his hair back with his fingers.

"We're not competition, Buck."

"I know."

"All I ever wanted was this," Steve says before he can stop himself.

He feels Bucky still above him and for a split moment, he believes he's ruined everything. It's over. But then Bucky shakes his head at him.

"Why didn't you ever do something about it?"

"I didn't think you were..." Steve feels himself blush viciously.

"Interested?" Bucky finishes with a scoff of disbelief. "You gotta be kidding me. I'm the one who said we should do porn — as a joke."

"What?" Steve sits up abruptly, moving Bucky up with him. Bucky slides off him and runs a hand through his hair.

"Yeah, I didn't think you'd go for it. But then you agreed and I thought why not? Maybe we'd do scenes together. But then you said we should never work together."

"Wait, you weren't serious? Why would you go through with becoming a pornstar if you were kidding?"

"I don't know, I was really horny. And I couldn't believe Steve Rogers was gonna be a pornstar. I guess, I figured I could watch you anytime I wanted..." Bucky blushes with the last part, looking away.

A beat of silence falls over them.

"I watch you all the time too," Steve says quietly.

He feels embarrassed admitting it even though they're sitting naked on his bed. Bucky looks at him again.

"We're so stupid."

Steve laughs, he has to, "we really are."

"Fuck," Bucky says, staring at him.

In a flash, it's like the lust takes over again. His eyes darken and he surges forward, kissing Steve with renewed passion. Steve kisses him right back, snaking his arms around him and pulling him back on top of him.

"Can I... Buck?" Steve asks dazedly. "I've been waiting so long, this feels so rig—"

"Yeah, you can fuck me already," Bucky cuts him off with another kiss. "Don't gotta get all sappy on me."

Bucky rolls them over, landing on his back with Steve above him now. He smiles up at him so sweetly. Steve has never been more in love.

By the time Steve gets inside him, Steve feels high. It feels so damn good to be inside him. He slides in and out of Bucky at a slower pace than he's ever fucked someone. He can tell Bucky is growing impatient when he grabs Steve's ass and forces him deeper inside his ass. He thrusts his hips up in urgency.

"Fuck me," he growls.

Steve breaks into a hard and brutal pace. But hearing Bucky pant wildly with a drunk smile strung across his face is what makes Steve really lose it.

"Fuck, fuck," Steve curses under his breath and grabs Bucky's ankles, pulling them over his shoulders and fucking him harder.

"Yes, god. Finally," Bucky cries and that's it for Steve. He's gone. He's coming hard, eyes sewn shut, hips still ramming forward incessantly.

He doesn't stop when he's done. He still has more in him and so does Bucky. They smile at each other. Steve leans over him, bending him in half and fucking him deeper. Bucky can kiss him now, dirty and wet with his tongue. Steve loves that. A few more minutes of that and he comes again.

Bucky's on his lap after that, riding him savagely. Steve has fantasized about Bucky riding him like this far too many times. And worse, Bucky's kissing him all the while like he needs air. Like he's never needed anything more than Steve's cock and tongue inside him at the same time.

They come together the last time, groaning in unison. Bucky slows on his lap and they breathe hard against each other.

"Christ, Steve. That was..." Bucky pants, pausing to catch his breath but Steve can't wait for him to finish. He needs to tell him.

"I love you."

Bucky looks up, meeting his eyes in astoundment.

"I'm in love with you," Steve repeats and he doesn't regret it. He's still inside the man and he doesn't care, he just needs to let him know.

Bucky kisses him. That's his first response. Steve kisses him back although he assumes it's Bucky's way of distracting him because he doesn't feel the same.

That's okay, Steve tells himself even as tears threaten to sting the backs of his eyes. It's okay. He keeps kissing Bucky.

Bucky finally draws back and frames Steve's face in his hands.

"I love you too."

#stucky #stucky fanfiction #stucky smut #top steve rogers #bottom bucky barnes #oneshot #tumblr fic

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m-writes-stories · 9 months

Text

Old Habits

Bucky x Steve x Reader

Warnings: Assult, Language (when do i not use language), idk what else

Word Count: 1053

You walked back to the office to plan your day out. You heard a knock on the door. You walked over to the door, and opened it. Standing in front of you, were two people that you hadn’t planned on seeing this close ever again. “Tony, Natasha, what are you doing here?” you asked. “Rogers and Barnes asked us to ask you if you would go to a party. So will you?” Natasha asked. “No, I told them that when I broke up with them I had no intention of being associated with the Avengers ever again,” you said. “Well, here's all the information (Tony hands you an invitation) come if you want or don’t come. Doesn’t affect me,” Tony says. You stood there in shock as the pair walked away. You looked down at the invitation.

The party was tonight. If you had still been dating the two they would have got an ear full about how they waited until the last minute to invite you. But you weren’t dating, so why had they asked Tony and Nat to ask you. You thought you were clear when you said you didn’t want to be associated with them. And everyone knows there are hundreds of photographers at one of the Avengers parties. You 1000% could not be seen there tonight. It was now 7 pm and here you were in a dress with your hair and make up done. You had done a lot of thinking throughout the day, surely if they wanted you to go to the party there was a good reason. So now here you were going to the party to see if you can figure out what that reason is. You called an uber to pick you up. The least amount of possibilities that you could be spotted the better. So you opposed taking your own car.

You pulled up to the compound. It looked the exact same as when you moved out. You had seen Steve and Bucky since you three broke up. You worked for SHIELD, it was bound to happen. But being good friends with Nick Fury meant you rarely had to interact with them. You walked into the compound and found yourself a seat at the bar. You had been lost in thought apparently because you hadn’t noticed someone walking up to you.

“Didn’t expect to see you here tonight,” the man next to you said. “Well, you wouldn’t have asked if you didn’t have a good reason, Rogers. So what is it? Why did you ask me to come to this party?” you asked him. “We think someone has been following you,” he said. “And who is we?” you asked. “Stevie and I, doll. We have some evidence,” Bucky said on the other side of your body. “Don’t call me doll. What evidence do you have that someone is stalking me?” you asked. Steve pulls out his phone. On it is a video. You click play. You recognize the location immediately as your apartment building. As the video goes on, you see yourself walking up to the door of the building, behind you is a man. You saw the man’s expression as he looked up at you before he started to speak. The sound on the video had been cut, but you knew what the man was saying. You looked up at each of the men.

“How did you get this video?” you asked them. “We talked to the owner of your apartment complex to send us all the video footage from the month at the end of the month. And we started to notice this man is in a lot of the footage with you,” Bucky said. “He’s my boyfriend. I’ve been dating him for six months and we just moved in together. So how about you stop stalking me,” you say. “Your boyfriend?” Bucky asks. “Yes, Barnes. My boyfriend. Don’t act like you didn’t expect me to date at some point in the rest of my life,” you said. “I just didn’t expect you to date this fast,” Steve said. “Why? You two are still together,” you said. “He didn’t stop loving me,” Bucky said.

“Don’t say that. Do not say that I didn’t love you. I loved you both like crazy. I could not mentally handle the fact that the two of you were putting yourselves in danger every time you left this compound. And you weren’t just gonna give up your jobs. You both thrive on saving people. You have been doing it since 1943. But I couldn’t live without you. So I removed myself from the situation. I never stopped loving you. How am I supposed to let you go?” you said. Bucky pulled your face towards his and connected your lips. “Hands off,” you heard from behind you. All three of you turned towards the man behind you. “What did you say John,” Bucky said. “I said get your hands off what's mine,” John said. “She isn’t property, so she isn’t yours,” Steve said. “I’m sleeping with her,” John said, “so she's mine.” “That is not how that works,” Bucky said. “She isn’t with you two anymore so it shouldn't matter what I say.” John went to grab at your arm but you quickly pulled away.

“What are you doing? Let’s go,” John said. “No, I don’t want to go with you. I am fine right here,” you responded slowly backing up until you hit Bucky’s chest. “You little bitch I knew you would always run back to them,” John said as he swung his fist towards your face. Bucky grabbed John’s wrist and started to drag him towards the door. “I’ll be right back, you stay here ok? I’m gonna go help Buck,” Steve said. You nodded your head and watched as Steve walked after Bucky. Natasha came up to. “So you gonna get back with them?” she said. “I don’t know. I still love them. I can’t deny that. But I have so much anxiety when they leave.” Nat nodded her head understanding.

You never saw John again. You were back with Steve and Bucky. They had gone on less missions since you three have been back together. They also tried to stay within the states. You were happy to be back in their arms again…

^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^

A/N: I’m so excited to be posting this right now. I have been working on this for forever.

Love You, M

#stucky x reader #bucky x steve x reader #m-writes-stories

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lizzie-is-here · 1 year

Text

like the dawn

part xx- until the end of the line

“i knew i did from that first moment we met. it was… not love at first sight exactly, but familiarity. like: oh, hello, it’s you. it’s going to be you.” - mhairi mcfarlane

summary: 78 years later, you, steve, and bucky get your fairytail ending

wordcount: 1k

warnings: slight angst, cussing

taglist: @whelvedfeelingsstuff @sebsgirl71479 @rebloggingmyrecs @babyblublossom @local-mr-frog @thenyxsky @capsiclesdoll @moonlightreader649 @saranghaey @almosttoopizza @itsprashimusic @yourfavunsub

a/n: i’m so so sad to see this series go 😭 but i’ve really loved it fr and i’m excited to see where to go next. i’m not sure if i want to start another series or kinda just do some one shots or re-open requests, but ig we’ll see where it goes. love you all so, so much, and thank you for reading. i hope you enjoy 🫶

previous part | series masterlist

“Is that everything?”

Steve nods as he sets the last box on the counter.

It’s only been a few months since everyone came back, but you all decided to move back to New York to be closer to everyone. Back to Brooklyn, precisely.

Natasha’s funeral was small. Quiet and personal on the lake at Tony’s cabin. A statue for her was being made, and would eventually sit a block or two from the tower.

Her absence was always noticeable, but everyone was slowly coming to grips with it. She would hate to see anyone wallowing.

You’d given your Romanian cottage to Wanda, who’d been intent on working on the grief of losing Vision. She called every now and then, showing you your healthy chickens and garden that thrived under her care.

Now, with Steve’s recent retirement and a bit of cash from the government as compensation, you all bought a large apartment back home.

Two arms, one metal and one skin, wrap around your waist. Bucky rests his head in between your wings and sighs.

“Don’t wanna unpack yet,” he mumbles. You laugh, turning around to kiss him before grabbing a box.

“C’mon. The faster we get done, the faster you can see your surprise.”

Both of your boys’ heads perked up at that. You had been hinting at it for weeks, but refused to tell them.

It had been a guessing game for a while now. A pet, another road trip, a shitty musical on Steve’s life? (That last one was true, much to your disdain.)

The one thing they hadn’t guessed was the small box tucked in the flowerbed full of phlox on your balcony.

“You never keep secrets,” Steve says as he starts hanging up clothes in the large closet. “Shocked you managed to keep this one.”

You gasp in fake indignation. “Steven Grant Rogers! How could you?”

“Yeah, Stevie,” Buck chimes in. “So inconsiderate.”

The blond rolls his eyes and kisses your forehead before grabbing a new box of clothes.

“I’m sorry, you are so very good at keeping secrets,” he grins.

Unpacking moves quickly from there, the three of you working efficiently as the sun starts sinking in the sky.

By the time you’re done, it’s 6:00. Stark’s throwing a party at 6:30, and he’ll throw a fit if you’re late.

He still bitches a bit when you make it at 6:15.

Most everyone’s there, smiling and filling each other in on the past months’ events.

Tony’s little girl is running around, Peter trailing close after her to make sure she doesn’t trip. Shuri and Bruce are in a heated yet friendly debate over AI, exchanging words that you don’t recognize, and from the look of T’Challa, who stands nearby, he doesn’t either.

Sam’s standing with your boys, annoying Bucky as Steve mediates. The new group, the “Guardians of the Galaxy” has huddled around Stephen Strange as the grumbling doctor creates various portals.

Everyone else is scattered about, drinking and enjoying each others’ company.

“Stark,” you greet at the presence behind you.

“Can’t get anything past you, can I?” he asks. You hum, glancing over at his new prosthetic. “How’s it been with the grandpas?”

“It’s been nice,” you admit. “Finished getting everything moved in today.” He nods, pretending to think for a moment before launching the question that brought him over in the first place.

“Soooo… Any upcoming fancy events we need to know about?”

You raise an eyebrow, not taking the bait. “Like what?”

“Oh, you know.” Stark waves a dismissive hand. “Two suits for them, a nice dress for you. White is really your color by the way. Plus, maybe it could have a nice cake at it. A few dances, nothing special.”

When you only deadpan at him, he continues.

“It could start with ‘W’ and end in ‘edding’-“

“Alright, maybe!” you finally say. “I haven’t given them the rings yet.”

Tony balks. “Seriously? Of all the people I expected to be nervous about proposing, it wouldn’t be you.”

You frown. “Why?”

“Listen, the three of you are madly in love. Anyone who’s anyone could tell you that, if any of us were made for each other, it’s you three.” He silently gags at his words, as if disgusted by the sappiness. “I hate it, but I’m right.”

He sips his (Morgan’s) sparkling grape juice. “Speak of the devils.”

You look up as your boys approach.

“Hey doll,” Bucky smiles before pressing a kiss to your hand. “Miss us?”

“Please,” Tony holds up a hand. “Spare me.”

He whisks away after his daughter, but not before nodding to you with a very obvious wink.

Maybe he’s right.

———————————————————————

That night, as soon as you get home, your boys are pestering you for the surprise.

“Fine, fine,” you concede, opening the doors to the balcony. “Go sit down on the couch.”

When you present the small box, you can hear both of their heart rates quicken.

“Um, the last five years, I had a lot of time to think,” you begin. “It was horrible, being alone. Sure, not everyone was gone, but you two were, and every morning I’d wake up and-“ You pause to swallow the tears.

“Hey, it’s okay,” Bucky whispers. “You don’t have to talk about it right now, doll.”

You sit in between them, wings getting squished a bit on the plush couch.

You give a firm nod, pressing forward. “Anyways, when we were going back in time for the Stones, they had me do a test run.”

“Where’d you go?” Steve asks.

A pause. “I went back to our apartment. Before the war. And I grabbed this.”

You open the box, where three gold bands lie.

“They’re…“

“My parents’,” you cut the brunet off. “My dad always promised my mom he’d resize and put a diamond on her wedding band when he had enough money, but… he never got around to it.”

Steve and Bucky each lift a band, with you doing the same.

“D’you want a traditional proposal?” Steve jokes. You chuckle, shaking your head.

“Nothing about us is traditional,” you reply.

All three of you wordlessly slip on the rings, before Bucky pipes up from your left with both pinkies extended.

“‘Til the end of the line?”

You and Steve respond in kind.

“Until the end of the line.”

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thesoftestpunk · 1 year

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Co- Aquatainenceship 9

Summary: You’re just two ex-assassins trying to navigate your way through normalcy, but you’re also huge idiots. In an attempt at getting Bucky out of his shell, you offer to catch him up on everything he’s missed. Including trashy YA novels.

Pairing: cw!Bucky Barnes x female!Reader

Word count: 6.4k

A/N: I have been struggling so hard to write lately :(( quick shoutout to @sanguineterrain for helping me find the end to the chap but also the courage to get it done!!

Warnings: angst, talk about depression, fluff, injuries, blood, and stitches. can't forget smoking

Series Masterlist

So you don’t talk about it. It being your feelings, but you didn’t want to when he was out of town for the next week, doing a multitude of interviews with Tony and Natasha. Pepper had come up with a simple PR plan to roll out the new phase of the Avengers, and it included Bucky. They wanted to show people he was harmless, but you’re not sure putting him on live television was such a good idea. He glared down at every camera, and intimidated every interviewer despite their best efforts at making him look less intimidating. You tease him relentlessly when his days are over, but he begs you to stop watching them. You give in after day three when you keep hearing the same handful of answers.

With your time off, you almost don’t know what to do. You try filling every moment that you’re awake because if you think, you spiral. So you run, smoke a whole pack a day, and sometimes box.

On one of your slower days, you wander up to the roof. Not many people go up there, and Tony hates it when they do, but there’s two shitty plastic lawn chairs to gaze up at the stars. Everything feels unsettled and shifted, but just looking up and zoning out helped.

“I thought you quit years ago.” Steve moves the spare chair next to yours and it groans under his weight.

“No need to keep the clueless act, Stevie.” You stub the cigarette out anyway, knowing the smell still puts him off. Bucky had told you his anxieties only came from when he was a small kid with asthma before the serum. “Bucky let the cat out of the bag months ago.”

“Well, I’m surprised it never occurred to you sooner.”

“Just wanted to tell myself you didn’t notice I guess. I know how you feel about them.”

Steve stays quiet as he leans back, the chair creaking so loud you’re sure it’s going to break.

“How are you doing? Really. You never liked time off before.”

“No, I know. You were right. I needed it.” You sigh. “Everything feels kinda fucked. I’ve never really felt… lost. There was always an end goal somewhere. How did you always know that you were doing the right thing?”

“I didn’t.” He says honestly. You know it by the haunted look in his eyes. “But it always felt right. Sometimes things just don’t turn out, no matter how well you stick to the plan.”

“Right.” You look down to the gravel, still feeling a little small. Even when admitting he wasn’t always right, Steve felt so perfect to you. The great American hero, but in your eyes, the altruistic big brother. “Never did say sorry for the kid dying, did I?”

“No, y/n. You didn’t—“

“I’m not-“ you interrupt then sigh, trying to gather your words. Steve’s patient, watching you without judgment. “I’m not saying sorry for getting him killed. I already did that, but I’m just saying. He was on our team. I’m just sorry we lost someone on our team.”

“You lose people sometimes.”

“Still sucks though.”

“It does.”

It’s quiet as you both look up to watch the stars and the occasional plane fly by. You liked these little moments with him. He always knew how to lift your spirits, just the slightest bit, even if you were the one venting most of the time. You’re sure he’s just happy to see you not locked up in your room for days on end.

“I think I might need more time?” It comes out more as a question than a statement, feeling a sudden rush of tears.

“I’ll let Tony know.” He almost goes into work mode until he looks over at you looking a little crushed. “Come on. Sam’s back from his sisters and I know you love her cooking. Maybe Bruce will show you some of his new gadgets too.”

He leads you back to the roof door, holding it open for you. It’s almost too quiet in the elevator and you’ve honestly been dying to ask.

“So…” you start, turning to him with a sly grin. “Do I get to know her name?”

“Who?”

“The girl you’ve been seeing, Steve.” You roll your eyes. “You had a red kiss stain on your cheek all of Monday afternoon.”

His face turns as red as the lipstick that had been stuck to him and you almost double over in laughter.

“Buck is only gone for one more day, you know.”

Your laughter stops. “What’s that got to do with anything?”

“If I recall correctly, you smelled a lot like Bucky's cologne when you came back Monday.”

“Can we rewind and I make fun of you for saying gadgets instead?”

You wait outside Bucky's building, bouncing anxiously as you hope you timed his departure from the compound correctly. Some passerby give you looks as you hang out on the edge of the curb, leaning casually against the car beside you. The roar of a motorcycle makes you perk up, turning just in time to catch him pulling up and killing the engine. You stay in your spot, two cars away as he removes his helmet and goes for his things. Not before acknowledging your presence of course. His hair has been trimmed since you’ve last seen him in person and his face is completely smooth. It makes him look less intimidating upon first glance, and you know for a fact the pepper made him do it. He had looked even less intimidating on tv, being dressed in lighter colored clothing, opposite of the black clothes he wears now.

“Steve said you weren’t around.” Bucky says when he’s standing in front of you, looking as antsy as you probably do.

“I was a little busy with this.” You gesture to the old and pale colored jeep wrangler behind you. “Ta-da!”

“It’s a jeep.” He states simply.

“Well. Yeah, but it’s my Jeep. That I drove alone.”

“Wait, you…” realization dawns on him and you quickly pull out the temporary paper one the dmv gave you.

“You’re looking at the new owner of a driver's license!” You barely show it off before he’s pulling you into a hug, spinning you around. He sets you down, hands lingering on your hips as you let out remnants of laughter.

“Everyone better watch out with that lead foot of yours, doll.”

You give his shoulder a good punch, which only makes him laugh. There’s a moment where you watch his eyes fall to your lips before coming back up to your eyes. Home always looked good on him, the bags under his eyes lessening from the inconsistent sleep. He just always looked happy to be in Brooklyn, that boyishness returning full force. He's taking a step back and picking up his bags that he dropped in excitement and invites you in with a nod toward his building.

“You could have let yourself in.” He says when you’re alone in the elevator.

“I don’t need your neighbors thinking I’m some crazy ex or something trying to break in.”

“Sounds like you need a key then.”

You hope you keep your cool, but by the smug look on his face, your shock is obvious.

“Beer?” Bucky offers, setting his bags down by the couch to be forgotten until later.

“Yes please.”

“We can sit out on the fire escape if you want a smoke.” He had noticed when your anxious energy hadn’t dissipated. “Go ahead. I’ll grab a few.”

You climb outside, taking a seat on one of the stools he’d placed there when you found yourselves there more often than on his couch. Your leg bounces because you’re going to tell him damn it. Avoiding the conversation is only going to make things worse. It already has if your fight was anything to go off of. His tags sit heavy on your chest, and you toy with them while he moves around his kitchen. He’d heard them clinking together when you walked, but he wasn’t going to bring it up until you did. He didn’t really have any real need for them, and he gave them to you for a reason. A promise. That didn’t have to end every time he came home. Plus, he imagined the simple chain looked great on you, and he can’t find it in himself to scold his brain for thinking of your chest. Not even naked. God, he’s become a simp. Even though he’s still not completely sure what that means.

His footsteps have you hiding the tags back underneath the collar of your shirt.

“Careful,” he warns when the bottle almost slips through your nervous hand. Grabbing your favorite pack of cigarettes from the window sill, he taps it against his palm a few times before slipping one out, lighting it and offering it to you.

“I’m quitting,” you blurt out.

“Oh.” He isn’t sure what to say as he rolls the cigarette between his fingertips, unsure of what to do with it now. “Steve get to you finally?”

“Not- I mean I do feel a little guilty now that I know he knows but, no. I’m not quitting smoking. I’m quitting the team, Buck. It’s why I got my license, a car.”

It’s quiet for a long time, and you avoid looking at him in fear of seeing the possible rejection on his face. Eventually, you take the cigarette he keeps playing with instead of smoking, and take in a long breath as he thinks to himself. You wait with baited breath, and when he looks at you calmly, you blow it out quickly.

“Where are you gonna go?” There’s concern hidden underneath the curiosity, but you’re able to decipher it from his tone.

“Not sure.” You shake your head as you offer it back, letting him take a drag as you steal a sip of beer. “They’re kind enough to scout a few places. Make sure it’s safe.”

“And what will you do?”

Turning your head, you smile softly as you shake your head once more. “I never really thought about that. What did you do in your time in Romania?”

No one’s asked him that out of genuine curiosity before. It was always accusatory or for the record. He’s taken by surprise, in all honesty.

“Whatever odd jobs I could find. Nothing with official paperwork.”

“Of course.” You respond softly, understanding it would have created problems. “Well, my offer still stands,” you tease a bit as you reach for your own beer. “I think it’d be fun to be roomies.”

“I can’t, sweets.” He looks to his lap dejectedly.

“No, I- I understand.” You try to not show the hurt despite not being fully serious about the offer. “Your home is in Brooklyn. It’ll probably be closer to Steve and Sam… and I was totally kidding.”

“I mean, I can’t. They want me for at least another year.”

“What? Who exactly is ‘they?’ Tony? Fury?”

“Don’t make a fuss,” he pleads. I’m not sure I’m worth all this, Steve.

“Why not?”

“Gotta pay my dues. It came with my parole.”

You stand, clenching your jaw as you move to lean over the railing. There’s a heavy sigh from behind you and the old fire escape creaks when he moves next to you.

“It’s not just about me having to work for them, is it?” He’s quiet, cautious.

“Who’s gonna look after you when I’m gone?”

“when it’s not you, it’s Steve.”

“Steve doesn’t make a fuss like I do.”

“Well, you both know how to make yourselves heard.” It makes your mouth twitch but you work hard to keep frowning. “I’ll be fine. I can take care of myself.”

“It’s nice to have help though.”

“It is.” He smiles. “But you’ll visit and when you do, you can help me with normal things. Like when the damn tv misbehaves.”

“You need to be nicer to it or you’re buying another one.”

He chuckles softly, plucking the cigarette from between your fingers. As he takes a drag, you see the frown and stress line between his eyebrows. Tilting your head, you wait for it to dissipate along with the smoke, but it never does.

“What? Worried about me? I’ll be fine, Buck.”

He flicks the excess ash off with his thumb, watching some of it fall on his boot. “Your mother reached out to me. I guess Emily seeing me on tv sent her into a frenzy, but she said she wants to look for you again.”

“What did you say?” You wrap your arms around yourself, a nervous habit. It isn’t his fault she reached out, so you keep your anxiety from turning into anger.

“That Avengers don’t really take missing persons cases.” There’s an obvious pause, you realize, as he sticks the cigarette between his teeth to run his hands through his hair anxiously. “But that I would reach out to some of my contacts. That being… you.”

“I’m scared shitless.” You take the cigarette right from his mouth. At this point, you aren’t sure why you share when you both just end up stealing it from one another.

“I know that.” He leans against the railing, crossing his arms over his chest. You’re not sure if the railing or his shirt can handle the pressure. “It just got me thinking, if you’re getting out, it’s a good time to let them know. You don’t have to worry about anyone going after them. Worry about running into them either.”

“I think I’ll always worry.”

“I’ll go with you if you don’t think you can do it alone.”

“You would?” It surprises you. “You always said you didn’t want to go with me to meet them. That you’d rather lose another arm.”

“I never-“ he sighs, defeated, realizing he may have said it once facetiously. “I was being a coward. Couldn’t do it for my sister, so how could I do it for you?”

“Your sister was alive?”

“Passed before we became friends.”

“Buck…”

“Look, it’s not about me, sweets.” He pulls you in, wrapping his arms around your waist. Your chest presses against him and you’re sure he can feel your heart racing. “You want me there?”

“Yes.” You wrap your arms around his torso, squeezing him into a tight hug. “What would I do without you?”

“Crash and burn evidently.”

You pinch his ribs, making him yelp in surprise.

You let Bucky reach out to your mom, too afraid to do it yourself. She answers almost instantly and then you’re met with the fact that you actually have to set up a time to meet. You’re too overwhelmed so you let her pick, and when the day finally arrives, you think you’re going to be sick.

“We aren’t taking your bike?” You practically pout when you meet with Bucky at his place to go meet your parents.

“We can if you really want, but I was afraid Emily would want a ride and I’m not putting your mother through that kind of stress.”

“Oh, you make a good point.” The nerves come through in your tight laugh.

“Is that okay?”

“Yes!” You answer all too quickly. “Yes. It’s just… it's been awhile since I’ve done the whole train thing.” It’s only a half lie on why you were acting so nervous, but you don’t have to explain for him to know.

“I’ll be close by.” Bucky holds his arm out for you to loop yours through and leads you to the subway.

It’s jam packed for the middle of the day, but Bucky takes care of the passes, what platform you need to be at and when. Anything to prevent you from getting any more stressed than you already are. On the train, you’re pressed into Bucky, your back meeting his front. When the train moves and you bump further into him, unable to get a hold of anything in time, he just reaches around to hold you in place.

“I got ya,” he whispers into your neck, making your stomach flip over.

You burrow further into him, arm resting over his, and pretend to hide into him. It just was hard being in the same city you were taken, on a train no less on your way to school, but you knew how to blend in with ease. You know even better that kirsch could never take you again, assured many times by Steve that you had gone through with that plan, and he was buried alone. You could always use your anxiety to your advantage to get lost in a crowd, but Bucky keeps you in place easily. Ignoring your obvious nail biting, a curse to yourself as you loved Natasha’s flawless natural nails, he only swats at your hand once.

When you get off the train and head above ground, Bucky gets distracted by a floral stand along the way. Despite your eye rolling, you’re endeared by his insistence of getting flowers any time he meets a girl's mother. You think you might get down on one knee when he gets a single rose for your little sister. Your palms begin to sweat when you enter the park you agreed to meet at and when you see your mom and dad sitting on a bench watching your sister, you stop.

“Oh,” you breathe out, feeling like all the air has escaped your lungs.

“You okay?” Bucky brings a hand to your lower back, worried by the look on your face.

“Yeah I just- it’s really happening.” You turn to look at him, eyes wide and brows furrowed with worry. “Just scared… give me one second to take it all in.”

“Take all the time you need, sweets.”

“Maybe we should’ve rethought the flowers.” You turn to him quickly, too afraid to be the one to catch your parents attention first. “Or the whole thing.”

“Y/N—“

“My mother is a florist for christ's sake,” you try to argue. “The carnations were a terrible idea. Why’d I let you get away with that?”

“I’m not sure that matters at this point.”

Turning, you see your mother, and then consequently your father, both watching you in happy shock.

“Oh, my baby.” You hear your mom's voice crack as she stands from the bench, just as afraid as you are to move any closer. You do when she takes a tentative step forward, hand pressed against her own chest. Nearly running, you collide into the both of them, arms wrapping around them desperately as they cling on to you just as tight.

“Hi,” is all you can muster against your mom's shoulder.

“You’ve- well you’ve grown!” She lets out a wet laugh as she takes you in, almost in disbelief at what she was seeing.

“It’s been, um, awhile.” You try to blink the tears away. Glancing behind you, Bucky stands where you left him. You wave him over subtly, not fully prepared to be on your own. “Mom, you’ve met Bucky.”

“Yes! Mr. Barnes,” she holds out a hand which he takes before offering the flowers.

“Mr. Bucky! Mr. Bucky!” Emily comes bounding up to all of you, ponytail bouncing. “You did it? You found her?”

“He did.” You kneel down to get to her level. “You must be Emily.”

She looks up at you in awe, and it’s a little shy, but she hugs you to cover it up. Bucky gives you the single rose to give her, and she jumps in excitement. The questions begin, and Bucky is quick to pick up on your nervous glances to your little sister. You had promised full transparency, but you wanted to filter what the little five year old got to hear. He offers to take her on a quick walk, which your dad seems hesitant about, but you reassure him quickly. Then you’re all sitting and they look at you too expectantly. It’s hard at first, telling them how scared you were and what all you went through, and maybe you lighten up a few details. The tears in their eyes never go away, and when you explain what Steve and the rest of the team did for you, your mother looks relieved.

“Sorry, but why now?” Your father asks innocently.

“What do you mean?”

“You said that man, Kirsch, died six years ago, right? How come you didn’t reach out sooner?”

You look away, unsure at first, but then you see Bucky holding your little sister's hand, and laughing at some story she’s expertly telling. The answer is almost entirely her. They got another girl, and they didn’t have to worry about you any more, but in all honesty, when Tony found your parents' information, Emily didn’t exist at all. Your parents were still in grief and in denial. You aren’t sure what changed. Maybe it was the fact that Emily just happened to be a surprise, and they figured they could try again. Without you. So you had agreed to join the team instead of facing rejection or disappointment.

“I dunno,” your voice is small as you look at your hands. “I- I was an assassin. Didn’t think there was much redemption in that.”

“Oh, sweetheart…”

“Look, I know that you’re my parents and you’ll love me no matter what, but you said that when I was a kid. I stopped being that kid the day I got taken and I’ve killed people. it just- the idea of you being disappointed just made me too scared.”

Neither of them try to give you any platitudes. Instead, they hug you tight, and let you cry. No one tries to carry the blame over anyone else. You’ve all somehow come to that silent agreement. They just end up doing exactly what you need, love you.

“Em sure is a firecracker.” You comment once the tears are over and she’s begged Bucky to let her hang from his prosthetic arm just ‘one more time!’

“Wonder where she gets that from,” your father teases, side-eyeing you. “I should probably relieve your friend there.”

“Friend, hm?” Your mother nudges your shoulder when your dad is far enough away.

“Okay,” you roll your eyes. “Yes. Bucky is a friend.”

“A friend who brought your mother flowers.”

“He’s old fashioned.”

Your mother hums, not quite believing you, and drops it. But when he gives you a smile over his shoulder, you seem unable to.

“He’s… complicated.” Your shoulders and smile drop when his attention is taken away. “We both sort of are. I’m not sure it’ll go anywhere.”

“How come?”

“I’m quitting the whole avenging thing. Moving somewhere else. Close enough to see you guys of course, but…”

“Far enough to make it complicated with him?”

“It’s all a bit complicated.” You sigh.

“Let life settle down again. It’ll surprise you.”

After you all grab a quick bite to eat, you part ways, accepting too many stickers from your little sister on the way. On the train back, you’re both able to sit, and you recall the way your parents had looked exactly the same, just a little older. You have to retrace their faces from old memories to remember the way they look now.

“You’re staring.” You tell Bucky on the third stop.

“Just… observing.” You give him a pointed look at his response you gave him too many times. “I’m proud of you for doing that.”

“Oh my god,” you balk. “Do not make me cry on this train!”

“I’m serious!”

“I know, but I swear to god, if I cry one more time today…” you leave the empty threat out in the open, face softening at his sincerity. “Thank you.”

“So, when is your last mission?” He changes the subject to work quickly.

“My last mission was my last one.”

“Oh, so you’re just done now?” He almost seems disappointed by that.

“Well, Steve’s putting me on desk duty until I decide what to do. Where to go. Thinking I might actually get some sort of degree.”

“Don’t you have enough credits for at least three?”

You roll your eyes. “Yeah, well, apparently they’re begging Tony to make me decide. I’ll have to take a few extra to, you know, finish it out, but I dunno. Maybe linguistics since I have the most credits for that, but what actual paying job can I get with that?”

“You’ll figure it out. You’ve got time.”

“Doesn’t feel like it.” You pout and play with the zipper of his leather jacket. “So. Your sister.” Bucky sighs because he knew you wouldn’t be able to drop it, but he isn’t annoyed. “Was she the same one from the photo of you dancing?”

“Yes, Rebecca.”

“It’s okay you couldn’t go see her.” You’re cautious, watching his posture and facial expressions closely. “I wish you could have, though.”

“I was still recovering.” They hadn’t even given him his new arm, yet. “I’m not sure they would’ve even entertained the idea, and I know that just makes you mad, but…”

“No, I get it.” You rest your head on his shoulder, feeling the warmth even through the layers. “I was on a short leash too. Still haven’t decided if it was good or not, but they unfortunately had a very good point.”

“You’re still a flight risk sometimes,” he teases.

“I think I’ve found my reason to stay.”

Laying your head on his shoulder, you let the noise of the subway take over between you.

Tapping your pen against your desk, you try to not let your head drop from boredom. Steve was right in saying you were never good with time off, but you didn’t realize desk work would be ten times worse. You yearn to text your fellow teammates about any and all updates on their respective missions, begging for the nitty gritty details. You’ll even take having to hear about a black eye adorning Bucky’s face for the sake of your brain not rotting, but they give you nothing. Everything seems to go perfect, and you’re left bitterly tapping your pen as you stare at numbers. It’s been three weeks of this. You had even bought matching pants and blazers in excitement. The initial giddiness in a change of pace had worn off quickly, and you became a part of the corporate drones you had heard so much about from your endless journey of media deep dives. You honestly consider starting a fight. Drama. Something.

A knock on your cubicle brings you out of your wallowing. Bucky, a beautiful reprieve, stands with a takeout bag in hand.

“What’s this?” You eye him warily, but smile at the interruption.

“Heard the fridge busted and you lost your lunch for the day.” He has this knowing look, like he had heard your grumbled curses and banging a fist on the fridge door that morning. It wasn’t your proudest moment. “Have you taken your break yet?”

“No.” Your grin grows bigger, the thought of getting Bucky for an entire hour uninterrupted making your skin crawl with anticipation. “Is that what I think it is?”

“Take your break with me and you’ll find out, doll.”

You find a bench outside, looking out to the large field, and he unpacks the food for you. You’re giddy as he hands the take out bowl of dim sum. The sun feels warm on your skin, and you’re just relieved to get out of the dreary office.

“Are you sleeping okay?” Bucky looks over your face once more, but you’ve covered the heavy bags underneath your eyes with makeup. A skill you’ve learned over the years to hide any injuries if necessary for work.

“Is this a friendly lunch or an interrogation?” Your voice is light, almost teasing to hide the nervous pain you feel from the question. If his intention hadn’t been because you couldn’t take your lunch, it would almost feel like a betrayal.

“Friendly.” His frown deepens, insulted by your insinuation. “I want to know you’re okay. You’ve been… small.”

“Small?” A soft laugh escapes at that.

“You’re usually so present and there, but these past few weeks,” he looks down and shakes his head. “I can see your mind wandering, and you’re not here much anymore. Just don’t want to see you that bad again.”

“Well, I’ve been leaving my room.” Your hands find something to fidget with, and you’re hesitant to look at him.

“Sweets,” he sets down his bowl and takes your nervous hands. Looking him in the eye, you can see a million words processing in his mind as he searches in your eyes. “I can help. If you want it or need it.”

“Buck,” you roll your eyes, unable to keep this conversation serious. “You help me just fine.”

“You swear?” He looks for your tells, but comes up empty. He looks so scared and you can’t seem to understand why. Why would someone worry so much about you? “No night terrors? Anything?”

“There’s… been a few nightmares, but look,” you wave off his worry, letting one of your hands escape. He refuses to let the other one go, slotting your fingers together in urgency. “I’m getting out of bed and going to a mind numbing job everyday. That’s good, right? I normally just… wallow in self pity. I’m not great, but I’m good, Buck. No need to stress.”

“Y/N, I…” he hesitates, watching the microexpressions in your face change at the use of your name. No cute terms of endearment. You soften so much, he stops himself from telling you outright that he loves you. Because he can see the tiredness in your eyes despite your expert makeup skills, and he tells himself to wait just a little longer. It isn’t the right time, and he doesn’t want to overwhelm you any more than you already are. “I’m glad you’re okay.”

“Nat wants to take me out for drinks tonight. As an unofficial goodbye party. Why don’t you come?” You want to prove to him that you’re doing fine, even though you would much rather get in bed early with a book.

“Can’t.” He looks sheepish as he picks his lunch back up. “Doing some recon later.”

“Well, I appreciate this, thank you.”

The sharp sound of knocking interrupts you from getting ready, hair halfway pulled back as you were about to fix your makeup. You’re afraid it’s Nat, as you get up to open the door, having shown up early. Bucky leans heavily against the doorframe. He’s beat up pretty good, bottom lip busted and scattered bruises littering his face. There’s dirt on his tac gear that he still has on, but most of all he looks tired.

“I didn’t know you were back so soon.”

“Finished early,” he grumbles out. Taking note of his leaning, your eyes fall down his arm, and you see blood on his hand that presses into his side.

“Jesus, buck!” Without a second thought, you pull him into your room. Both of you stumble over his weight as he leans against you heavily.

“‘M fine,” he mumbles as you drop him a bit unceremoniously onto the love seat in front of the window.

“I- we…” Normally you’re more level headed than this, but you usually have the time to get in the proper head space before missions. A surprise visit covered in blood was going to give you some panic. “I need to go get help.”

Just before you can walk away, Bucky’s free hand grabs your wrist. “They taught you how to stitch someone up, didn’t they?”

“Yes, but this requires a trip to the infirmary. Not my bedroom.” You gesture vaguely to his still bleeding wound.

“I’m not going to the infirmary.” he says firmly, the grip he has on your wrist tightening slightly.

“You are bleeding on my couch.” You can see where it just starts to soak into the material. That stain will never come out, you know it.

“I don’t need it to be perfect. Just something to get me by for the next few days.” It wasn’t going to take long to heal, but that didn’t mean they could just leave it be and hope for the best. “Come on, before someone overhears.”

Rolling your eyes with a dramatic huff, you pull your wrist from his grasp to go close the door. Not before poking your head out into the hallway, looking for any signs of life. When you know you’re in the clear, you close her door, and head straight for the bathroom. While shuffling in the cabinet underneath the sink for the kit you swear you own, you raise your voice slightly to speak to him.

“We need to stop the bleeding before I can do anything.” You almost shout in victory when you spot the red box, and grab a few towels. “First we’ll need to get your shirt off.”

As he struggles out of his layers, you drag your nightstand closer to lay out all of the items as neatly as you can. Taking one of the hand towels, you have him hold it firmly in place so you can go scrub your hands clean. It’s nearly soaked through by the time you find a comfortable position to work in.

“Let me see?” You ask softly.

Your hands hover over his as he peels the towel back with a tiny wince. It wasn’t as much as you’d like but you could work with it. Using the same towel, you hold it under the wound, pouring disinfectant over it and then patting it dry. He tries to not hiss in pain the entire time, jaw clenched tight. While you turn to get the needle and thread ready, he slings his arm over the back of the couch to grant you easy access.

“What were you thinking?” You ask quietly, the needle going through his skin easily.

“Yippee, I’m a hero,” Bucky deadpans.

“You seem to have forgotten I’m the one stitching you up. Should I check for a concussion too? Maybe terminal dumbass disorder while we’re at it.”

“What do you want me to say?” He flinches when you stab him harshly out of anger.

“I don’t like you going on solo missions.” Shaking your head softly, you keep focus on the task at hand rather than his reaction to that. “You should have asked me to come along. I was probably the only one who didn’t have anything going on.”

“You said you had the night off.”

You hum softly, not impressed with his lame excuse. “Well, now I get to end it by cleaning a stain that might never come out.”

“Shit,” he mutters, not having realized the blood reached the cushions. Without thinking, he moves to check the damage.

“Hey, hey, whoa!” Your hand falls onto his stomach to steady him, nearly having pierced his skin in the wrong place. “Easy, hotshot. I’m not quite finished yet.”

Your hand glides over his skin before returning back to where it had been previously.

“Got blood on your dress too.” Bucky mumbles, taking the fabric between the fingertips of his free hand.

“It’s okay, I-“ you laugh softly, bashful as his skin grazes against your legs. “I didn’t really want to go.”

“How come?”

“I dunno. Maybe Nat would say I’m looking for a reason to back out, but I’d rather be here with you. Bloody or not.”

There’s a thick silence as his hand falls on your thigh, squeezing in surprise by the admission. You scoff, returning to your needlework so you don’t get embarrassed by looking him in the eye.

“God, that sounded corny. I just- well, it’s true. I don’t wanna go to a bar full of strangers where some guy is probably going to hit on me or insult me by accident. Probably wouldn’t put up with me torturing him with candy or cheesy movies that physically make you cringe. Don’t think I haven’t noticed. I want a guy who’s gonna dance with me because he knows I never have. If… if that makes sense.”

It’s a full admission, he’s beginning to realize. It’s him. You want him. Even though you can’t make yourself say the words, he still knows you mean it. Because you wouldn’t be shaking otherwise. You had the steadiness of a sharpshooter, and the only time you faltered was when feelings got involved. You’re so close, it doesn’t take much movement for his lips to capture yours, causing you to freeze and almost drop the needle. His hand slides up your thigh, sneaking underneath the skirt of your dress because he needs to feel your warmth. To know that he’s actually kissing the woman of his dreams.

“Hey,” you whisper against his lips, laughter bubbling in your throat. Pulling back, you see the slight fear in his eyes. “I should finish this up before we… do whatever, don’t you think?”

“I’ll be fine.” He leans back in, but frowns when a hand on his chest stops him. Albeit a little dramatically, he throws his head back on the couch and lets your gentle hands continue working. It’s silent for a while, and while you’re tying the knot to finish, he speaks again. “I think you should stay.”

“Buck,” your shoulders drop at that, and set the tools down. “I can’t. They’ve already found a place for me. I’m supposed to be getting a fresh start. I mean… how are we supposed to do this? Won’t it just be–”

“Complicated?”

Your face burns in embarrassment. “You heard that?”

“Doll,” he shakes his head, not wanting you to worry about that, and holds your cheek in his flesh hand, thumb tracing a circle along your jaw. “It’s now or never. I already thought I would lose you when you leave.”

“Of course you won’t!”

“You’ve got everyone here. Wasn’t I your reason for staying?”

“Yes, but I–” you realize you’re doing it again. You’re running away to avoid the hard feelings. The fear of rejection or worse. Loss. “Steve’s gonna be so pissed.”

“Who cares?”

Fuck.

“I’m scared.” Your voice shakes along with the hand that you bring up to the nape of his neck, and press your forehead against his.

“That’s okay, sweets. I am too.”

“Okay.” You breathe out as you close your eyes. “Okay, I’ll stay.”

Bucky kisses you like you’re leaving, but he stays, wrapped in your arms until the exhaustion makes him sleep.

Tag list:

@buckymcbuckbarnes @enchantedbarnes @buckybarnesowl (if I mistakenly tagged you, I'm sorry. I lost my tag list and tried to figure out who asked)

#bucky x reader #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x female reader #bucky barnes x y/n #co-a #my writing

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