fluffysucker - Tumblr blog

fluffysucker · 2 months

Text

MY FAVOURITE AUTHOR

She knows I needed this. I love it so much and I love her with all my heart. I would go to war for her no joke

stuck with you

Bucky x Reader au

Run-through: Alone, cold, and stranded in the middle of a small town on top of a mountain. Not the most ideal situation to be in when the weather starts getting bad. No motels or inns have room for you so the locals suggest you reach out to a man named Bucky Barnes for shelter. Apparently, Bucky is known to always help stranded people, or lost hikers. No matter how weird it feels to drive up to a stranger’s house and ask for help, you have on other choice but to do just that. The plan was simple: stay with the strange, kind man for a couple of days until the snowstorm passes. But then you meet him and you find yourself unable to stick to the plan.

Themes: age gap (reader is in her twenties, Bucky is in his early forties), strangers-to-lovers ish, smut, slight degrading kink, fluff

It felt like the start of a horror movie.

Unknown town, unknown people. You cursed yourself as you walked out of yet another motel who had no room left for you.

What the hell were you thinking? After uni, you thought travelling the world on your own would help you with learning the right lessons, having the right experiences, and all that before you joined the family business and began working with your parents for the rest of your life.

Instead of having fun though, here you were. Stuck on top of an icy mountain, in a small town, and nowhere to sleep for the night. With the snowstorm approaching, you had to find shelter quickly. But none of these motels or inns were free. Every hiker, skier, and tourist had already booked ahead of you apparently.

“Uh, miss?” A voice called from behind you right as you were about to step outside into the cold evening.

You turned to look and it was the owner of the motel. The same man who had just turned you down because he had no space left to accommodate you. He looked apologetic as he approached you.

“Hi.” You said, then patted your pockets quickly, “Did I forget anything on the counter?”

“No.” The man smiled and shook his head. “Look, I’m sorry you can’t stay. But snowstorms in this area can be dangerous and deadly, and you wouldn’t survive the night if you slept in your car.” He pointed at the rented jeep you had parked right outside the motel. “But there’s a man who can help. His name’s Bucky. Bucky Barnes. He often helps out stranded hikers and stuff, and I already called him and asked if he had room and he said yes.”

The motel owner proceeded to give you details about Bucky and how to get to his house. From what you’d just learnt, Bucky Barnes was a business mogul who preferred seclusion. He was wealthy, and lived alone in his luxurious cabin that, rumour has it, he built himself. He was in his early forties and had people running his businesses for him all over the world. He moved to this small town after living in lavish cities his entire life. He owned acres upon acres of land, so he was also the local lumberjack and spent his time manually taking down trees whenever anyone needed wood.

“Don’t worry, miss,” The motel owner reassured you, with a kind smile. “Mr. Barnes is a nice guy. Everyone around here knows him. Just follow the directions I gave you and you’ll find his house not too far from here. It’s a wooden behemoth right on the edge of the forest.”

When you got back in your car, the first thing you did was google the man really quickly. And the headlines, as you scrolled and read them, made your eyes widen a little each time. They were all basically just about what the motel owner already told you. But you needed to make sure it was all real.

It was. Bucky Barnes was indeed a filthy rich business mogul who chose to come live all the way up here to get away from busy cities and journalists who always followed him around for quotes to put into their articles.

And then, you began searching for pictures of this man. Your heart skipped a beat upon finding them. Pictures of him at fancy dinner parties, galas, charity events. Pictures of him shaking hands and clinking glasses with famous faces. Pictures of him on business magazine covers.

Pretty blue eyes, handsome face, and a kind smile. You noted the crinkles by his eyes whenever he smiled or laughed in pictures. Whenever he was photographed with a group of people, everyone seemed charmed by him. He seemed tall too. Oh well, safe to say the man was drop dead gorgeous.

What if he was a serial killer and the people in this town directed victims to his house like he was some kind of twisted leader of this town?

You cringed at the exaggerated thought, shaking your head.

Usually you weren’t one to trust strangers quickly but it was getting darker, the wind was beginning to howl and the cold was making you shiver even beneath all the layers you were wearing. The snowstorm was expected to last at least three days, so it was either trust a stranger for a few days or die.

—

You stopped your car in front of what the motel owner called a ‘wooden behemoth right on the edge of the forest’. And he was right.

The luxurious log home was situated higher up on the mountain, looking over the small town. Surrounded by towering trees, mainly pine, and the area around the house was foggier than the rest of the town. It would’ve seemed eerie if it weren’t for the warm, golden lights coming from inside the house.

The house was indeed massive, with intricate carvings on the huge front doors. The roof was covered with dark, polished slate, and what gave the home a more contemporary touch were the large, floor-to-ceiling windows. It looked like the perfect place for someone who sought seclusion and comfort.

Or a murderer, your brain added. You hissed at the thought, shoving it away as you got out of your jeep. It was beginning to drizzle, the wind howling louder than earlier. You walked up the front porch and knocked on the large doors.

Before you could check out the porch, you heard loud footsteps approaching. Then, the front door opened. And on the other side stood a handsome man, slightly different from how he looked in the photographs you’d found online, but just as gorgeous. Well, the photographs were all taken from years ago so it made sense that he looked different. Bucky Barnes hadn’t been photographed ever since he moved here, according to the articles, and it was a shame because he was truly a work of art.

“Hey,” He said with a deep, confident voice. “You must be the girl I just received a call about from the motel.” He opened the door wider. And for a couple of seconds, you didn’t move.

You were frozen in place. He was… too pretty. That same handsome face as in the photographs, except he had more facial hair now. And longer hair. So long in fact that he had to put it all up in a messy bun on top of his head. A few strands escaped the bun and fell on either side of his face, making him look beautiful in a rugged way.

You couldn’t help but let your eyes wander for just a second. He was just as tall as you imagine, but slightly more muscular than he seemed in the pictures. The white t-shirt he was wearing clung to him like a second skin, the jeans clung to his thighs in a way that should be illegal.

You quickly looked up and cleared your throat before you got caught ogling. “Um, hi Mr. Barnes. I’m sorry for–,”

He cut you off politely, “There’s no need to apologise,” He signalled for you to come in. And as you walked into his home he said, “And please, call me Bucky.”

You smiled at him as you stood near the entrance, waiting for him to shut the door. When he turned to you, he asked for your name and asked what you were doing here. While you answered, he led you further into the magnificent house.

If you thought it was beautiful from the outside, the interior was absolutely breathtaking. Spacious, with high ceilings. Most things inside were wooden, except for the rugs and the plush sofas. It was an open concept, and you could see the more farm-style kitchen from the living room area and it was just as pretty as the rest of the house. The more you looked around, the more you fell in love with the interior. Elegant curved staircase which led upstairs, massive fireplace, accents of stone and metals everywhere. It looked like a lot of thought went into building this home.

“This looks like a dream.” You commented, standing in the middle of the living room and taking it all in. The owner looks like a dream too. You sighed at the sound of your inner thoughts. It was true.

Bucky smiled, looking proud. “It took some years to build but…” He sighed, “It’s worth it.”

You smiled at him, noticing the crinkles by his eyes as he smiled. Fuck, this man was beautiful.

“Give me your keys, I’ll bring your bags in, then I can show you to your room.” He extended his hand out, waiting for you to drop your keys into his palm.

“Oh.” Your face got all hot when you realised you’d just walked into his home empty handed. You’d forgotten your bags in the jeep. “I can go get it, it’s–,”

“No, I’ll get it,” He cut you off again, stepped closer and took the keys from your hand. “It’s getting bad out there.” Then he walked away.

And you shamelessly watched him leave. His back muscles moved and shifted under the tight shirt as he walked and you felt a shiver travel down your spine. Think about how those warm, hard muscles would feel under your fingertips…

Shit. This man was being kind to you and here you were being a pervert.

–

Bucky brought your bags in, all four of them. Carried them through the front door like they weren’t heavy at all. Well, he cuts down trees for fun so maybe he’s used to carrying heavier things.

He showed you to one of the many guest bedrooms he had. And the room was just as beautiful and perfect as the rest of the home. King-sized bed, large chest drawer, private bathroom which was fully stocked with toiletries. Large windows, and a small balcony which overlooked the dense forest outside.

“Well then, I’ll leave you to unpack and make yourself comfortable. Dinner will be ready in an hour or so. See you downstairs.” He left with yet another smile which made your heart skip a beat.

–

You found yourself making your way downstairs after a long, warm shower. You wanted to unpack after your shower but then the smell of dinner cooking forced you out of the room. You followed the delicious scent of what seemed like pasta sauce, sniffing the air quietly until you made your way into the gorgeous kitchen. With an even more gorgeous man in it.

“There you are,” Bucky smiled at you as you approached the large kitchen island which was also the dining table. “Everything okay with your room?” He asked, stirring some kind of sauce in a pan before resuming chopping some other thing. He looked so comfortable in his kitchen, it was endearing.

“Yeah, everything’s good.” You answered, lingering by the kitchen counter awkwardly, “You need help with something?”

“Sure, if you want.” Bucky nodded and pointed at the other side of the kitchen with his knife, and said, “Can you be a doll and grab us a red wine from the cellar?”

You froze for a quick second at the sound of ‘doll’. It was sweet, but the way it sounded from his deep, smooth voice… you cleared your throat again before your thoughts got inappropriate, turning around and heading for the cellar because of course he had a wine cellar.

After grabbing what you hoped was a nice wine, you made your way back to the kitchen and found Bucky plating pasta into two plates. He had a slight frown on his face as he focused on the plates. If there was anything you had noticed about Bucky it was that he was very detail oriented.

Bucky’s frown disappeared the moment he looked up from the plates and saw you standing there. “Hope you like pasta and cheese.” He winked with a maddeningly handsome smile.

“I do.” You smiled back, ignoring the butterflies in your stomach as you handed him the wax sealed bottle of wine. For a brief moment, his hand brushed against yours and you could’ve sworn it felt like you’d been electrocuted.

A strange shiver danced down your spine as you took a seat at the table and watched Bucky break the seal, uncork the bottle and pour it into two glasses before pouring the rest into a large decanter.

All that wood chopping did him good. The man was muscular in all the right places. But his hands… oh his hands. Large, veiny. Imagine those hands all over–

“So, tell me about yourself.” He said, taking a seat across from you. “And what are you doing on this icy mountain?”

The conversation flowed perfectly. You told Bucky about how you were travelling to all the places you wanted to see before you moved back home, and he told you all about his life here. He said he liked the peace and quiet. Even the snowstorms, he grew to love them.

By the time your plates and the decanter were empty, the two of you were laughing and exchanging life stories like you were old friends catching up.

“So wait,” You chuckled, “You built this entire place out of spite?”

Bucky nodded, laughing as well. “Well, I guess. My friend Sam came to visit when I told him I bought some land out here and he said ‘Well what are you gonna do here, Buck? You can’t just build a house in the middle of nowhere and become a lumberjack providing wood to the locals.’ and I thought, ‘Wait, that’s not a bad idea’, then I did exactly what Sam said.”

You laughed, the wine made everything funnier. Bucky’s cheeks were now pink, his lips stained due to the wine and you couldn’t look away from him. Fuck, he really was gorgeous. He must have changed before dinner because he was no longer wearing that tight white shirt. He was wearing loose, beige coloured loungewear and looked just as mouth-watering. His hair was just as messy, but made him look effortlessly handsome.

You eye-fucked him so more before realising that he was checking you out too, and neither of you had said a word for the past minute or two. But it wasn’t awkward. His blue eyes stared into yours and you were suddenly too aware of the thick tension in the air.

The way he licked his lips, the way he toyed with the stem of his wine glass, the way his hand–

Bucky cleared his throat and looked away first. You tried to blink away the tension too but it remained. Then Bucky asked, “So, you have a boyfriend or something waiting for you at home?” He gave you a playful smirk.

Oh?

You shook your head, “Nope. What about you? You came all the way here to live in seclusion, are you running from an ex or something?”

Bucky chuckled, shaking his head. “No, nothing like that.”

That tension came back again, filling the air like smoke. You couldn’t ignore it. Neither could he, given how he fidgeted in his seat.

This is wrong. Isn’t it?

He was being kind enough to offer you shelter and you were being inappropriate. So before you did something you might regret, you said, “It’s late. I should head to bed. I drove all day and…” You trailed off, looking away and avoiding his eyes.

“Yeah, yeah of course.” He said quickly, getting up from his seat. He went to reach for your plate but you grabbed it first.

“Oh I’ll load up the dishwasher, don’t worry.” You moved before he could stop you, grabbing your plate and then his. Then the wine glasses and everything else.

You could feel Bucky’s eyes on you as you carefully arranged everything in the rack before turning it on. You washed your hands, and wiped it on a tea towel while turning to leave but Bucky’s heated stare stopped you.

There he was, leaning against the kitchen island and looking even more yummy than the dinner he made. You were glad you had the tea towel in your hands otherwise you wouldn’t know what to do.

Luckily Bucky spoke up first, “If I had known you were coming I would’ve made dessert.”

Such a simple sentence yet it sounded like he’d whispered some dirty, filthy secret in your ear the way your body came alive. You refrained from clenching your thighs together. His voice was lower, deeper but just as smooth and it was driving you crazy just imagining how this man must sound in bed.

And now you were jealous of all the people who had had the chance of hearing what he sounded like, moaning and grunting, whispering out of breath… fuck.

“Uh…” You struggled to find your words, now that the image of him naked in bed wouldn’t leave your head, “That’s alright. I don’t have much of a sweet tooth anyway.”

You didn’t know when you moved, but you found yourself standing closer to Bucky now. He turned to face you completely and there were mere inches between your bodies. You felt… hot. Maybe it was the wine, but you were almost certain it was because of the way Bucky looked at you. Like he’d devour you if he could. You had sensed tension between you and other people before, but it had never been this strong.

“Shame,” He muttered under his breath, his hand coming up to gently touch your face. “I happen to like something sweet before bed.” His voice dropped to a whisper.

All you could focus on was the way he was touching your face. Gently, like you were made of glass. His hand was warm, but rough. You let out a shaky breath as you wondered how his rough hands would feel all over you–

“Go to bed.” He said in a voice that made you tingle all over. He didn’t let go of your face. His thumb caressing your cheek, and his eyes staring into your soul.

You blinked, wondering if you misheard. “What?” You asked softly, leaning into his touch subtly, obviously not wanting to move.

“Go to bed, doll.” He repeated, still not letting go of your face.

You frowned slightly, “But–,”

He cut you off by placing a gentle finger over your lips. His eyes couldn’t look away from where his finger touched your mouth. He leaned in a little, then said, “We shouldn’t.”

“Why not?” You asked, lips brushing against his finger as you spoke.

He gave you a soft smile and said, “I should be a good host, not seduce you.”

You shrugged, “Well I’m nice and seduced, now what do we do?”

He chuckled, leaning in until his nose brushed against the side of your neck. His simple touches were driving you crazy.

“You know what happens when there’s a snowstorm in this town, doll? It lasts for days,” He whispered, lazily kissing your neck. “And by the time that’s over, the roads are completely blocked. And this is a small town so it takes a while before the roads are functional again.”

Your heart fluttered, your body felt too hot and yet you shivered. You gently pulled away to look at him. “So you’re saying I’m stuck with you here for days?” You couldn’t help the smirk on your face.

He caught the hopeful tone in your voice. Bucky nodded. “And if I touch you right now,” He whispered, cupping your face in his large, rough hands, “I’m not sure I’ll let you leave my bed at all for the next coming days.”

It was risky because as beautiful as he was, you didn’t know Bucky. But you had never wanted someone this much before. This felt like a new kind of longing and need. You didn’t care what was right, ethical, or risky. “Then don’t.”

That did it.

Bucky stopped thinking why he shouldn’t and instead pressed his lips to yours, kissing you like he was tasting his favourite dessert. His tongue easing your own as he tasted you leisurely. “We’re sure about this?” He asked, breathlessly.

“Yes,” You whispered against his mouth, gasping as his hands trailed up and down your body, sliding under your sweater and fondling your breasts. “We are.”

Bucky smiled into the kiss, then spoke again. “Aren’t I too old for you, doll?”

You chuckled, your own hands wandering and sliding up and down his muscular back. You wanted nothing more than to just take off that comfy hoodie he was wearing. “Oh, what’s a decade or two?” You murmured.

Bucky’s hands dropped down to your waist, caressing your skin, fingers threatening to slip past the waistband of your sweatpants. You had to bite your lip to keep yourself from moaning too loudly. The storm was picking up outside and it would surely drown out all your cries, not that there were any neighbours to hear to begin with.

“Will you be good for me?” He whispered, kissing down your face as his fingers slowly dipped into your sweatpants. One hand held you at the waist while the other inched dangerously close to where you craved him the most.

His touch, his words, it was all too much. “I’ll be good,” You replied, your hands sliding under his hoodie to finally touch him, exploring and curious. His body was incredible to the touch, hard muscles and warm skin.

He finally slipped his hand into your underwear, hissing as he found you dripping wet. He chuckled against your skin as he kissed and licked your throat, “How long have you been this wet, doll?” He asked, sounding cocky.

You gasped when you felt him sliding a finger inside you, gently. “Since you opened the front door.” You answered honestly.

Bucky laughed, his warm breath tickling your ear. “That long, huh? I’m sorry.” He cooed, “Let me take care of it for you.”

You couldn’t help the moan that escaped your mouth when you felt him slide another finger inside you, fucking you slowly with both now. Bucky kissed your neck, your face, your mouth. Licking and biting your skin as he pleased while he finger-fucked you until you were right on the edge.

“Get up here.” He murmured, pulling his fingers and hand away and pointed at the kitchen island.

You didn’t move immediately. Probably because your brain was all foggy from his kisses and his touch that it took a second for you to register and process his words.

Bucky smirked and repeated. “Come on. Take your clothes off and get up here.”

You did as he asked. Taking off your sweater and sweatpants, followed by your underwear and revealing your bare body. Bucky took a second, letting his fingers trail up and down your stomach and chest before he pointed at the island again.

“Up.”

You hopped on the edge with a giggle, hissing upon feeling the cold surface against your warm skin. Once sat on the edge, you wrapped your legs around him, pulling him closer. Bucky smiled as he placed his hands on you again, your arms wrapping around his neck as you stared into his ocean blue eyes.

“Such a pretty doll,” He whispered, placing his hands on your thighs and spreading them further apart. He looked down at your wet folds, mindlessly dragging a finger up and down your slit, making you shiver all over again. “Now, lie down.” He said.

You wasted no time. You unwrapped your arms from around him and carefully laid down flat on your back, hissing at the cold again.

Bucky’s eyes trailed up and down your body, his hands caressing your skin. From your thighs, to your hips, to your breasts where he pinched your nipples, making you cry out again.

“Can I taste you, doll?” He asked, pulling your legs up to the edge and spreading your thighs as far apart as they would go. The island was high enough where he only had to bend down for his mouth to touch your heated skin. Lips brushing against your lower abdomen, he asked again, “Can I?”

Your brain was a mess. Yet you managed to mumble a firm, “Yes…”

With his mouth mere inches away from your throbbing clit, he said, “Keep your legs up just like that for me, okay?”

You nodded, looking down in between your legs as he leaned in and pressed his mouth against your wetness. He looked up immediately, holding your stare as he slid his tongue against, the roughness of his beard against your softness was driving you insane.

You held yourself up on your elbows as you watched him eat you out. The warmth of his mouth, the slow caress of his hands against your inner thighs, the intense look in his eyes as he tasted you. It made you feel like you were floating.

It was too much, it was not enough. You wanted him, you wanted more.

“You taste sweeter than any dessert, doll.” He whispered, kissing around your wet clit before sucking on it hard enough to make you come, your back arched off the surface, riding his face as you cried out in pleasure. “But it’s not enough.” He admitted, pulling away and kissing his way up your body. “Is it?”

You barely caught your breath, your heart racing as you laid there in front of him.

“Get down, and bend over for me.” He spoke in that enchanting voice of his which put you under his spell so easily.

You moved immediately this time. He was still fully dressed and you didn’t have a single article of clothing on and somehow that made you feel hotter.

You bent over the island in front of him, your front pressed against the edge. You placed your hands down and turned to look at him over your shoulder. You watched how he grabbed your hips and spread your legs, leaning closer to kiss up your spine.

“So beautiful,” He whispered against the back of your neck. “Now, are you gonna let me fuck you? Hmm? Are you gonna let me put both of us out of our misery, doll?”

“Yes.”

“Good.”

He pulled his hands away from you for a moment, lowering his trousers enough to free his cock. You wished you could see it properly. You wished you could kneel down in front of him and take him into your mouth and–

You gasped out loud when you felt the tip of his hard, warm cock pressing against you. Nothing mattered in that moment, not when he was gently rubbing his cock up and down your wet slit, parting your folds.

You squirmed against the hard surface under you, pushing back into him in need. “Please…” You whispered, desperate for him. You had never been this needy for a man before.

You braced yourself for his thrust, knowing it was coming.

Slowly, Bucky slid inside you, filling you up and stretching you out as he did. He let out a sigh of pleasure once he was seated deep inside you, gripping on your hips tightly as he gave you both a moment to get used to it.

You felt so full, like you’ve never been before. So full, you could barely form a coherent thought. All you knew was you wanted more.

You let out a quiet moan as he started fucking you gently.

“You feel so fucking good,” He hissed, “So warm and tight for me.” Bucky whispered, fucking into you with a pace that made you want to scream and shout because it felt so good.

Each time he filled you up, the tip of his cock brushed against your most sensitive spot and you moaned as your walls clenched around him.

“Poor little doll,” He cooed, “This will be your new routine for the next few days now. Just getting fucked, and caressed all the time while the storm rages on outside.”

His thrusts got harder. Your moans got louder. His words made you clench around him even more.

“Look at you,” He growled. “Pretty girl letting a older man she barely knows fuck her like she’s a needy little whore.” His voice was deeper, and as menacing as his words were his touch was just as soft and careful. His fingers circled your clit gently while he pounded into you from behind. “Would you bend over for any man, doll? Hmm? Whoever offered you shelter from the storm, is this how you’d repay him? By letting him fuck your needy little cunt?”

You couldn’t help but cry out, moaning in pleasure as his words took you higher. You did have a little bit of a degrading kink, who didn’t? But never had anyone ever hit the spot like Bucky did. And given how your wetness dripped down his fingers, he could tell.

Bucky chuckled darkly. “Does that turn you on, doll? Knowing that I can selfishly take from you now that you’re stuck here with me?” His other hand came up to grab you by the back of your neck as he whispered into your ear, fucking into you hard enough that your body slammed into the kitchen island with each thrust. “Does it turn you on knowing you’ll have to be my little slut for the next few days? That you’ll have to spread those legs for me and let me fuck you whenever I want to?”

“Yes…” You whimpered as he pounded deeper into you. You didn’t want him to stop. Ever.

He hissed into your ear, “Is that what you are now? My little slut?” He chuckled, rolling his hips in a way that had you whimpering and squirming in pleasure beneath him. “Well, what a perfect way of repaying me for my kindness, hmm?”

“Please, Bucky…” You whimpered.

Bucky hummed, kissing your warm skin, “I know, pretty girl. I know, it feels good, doesn’t it?”

His words made you feel feverish, and wild. Lust-drunk more than ever. You moaned as he sped up again, a familiar warmth taking over you, and a pressure building in between your hips.

You whined, “I’m gonna come.” You cried, and you were pretty sure you had tears streaming down your face.

“Come for me, then. Come all over my cock, doll.”

Your brain was a foggy mess after that. You came hard though, clenching around him violently as you did.

“Fuck… look at you,” He whispered, his cock pounding harder into you until he came as well, spilling all over your lower back as he panted in exhaustion. “You okay, doll?”

You nodded slowly, pressing your forehead down against the cool surface and catching your breath.

“Come on,” His voice was softer now as he pulled you up and held you against him. Your back to his chest as he wrapped his arms around you, nuzzling your neck and leaving soft kisses all over your neck and the side of your face. “Let’s get you in bed, yeah?”

You asked in a shaky voice, “And then can we fuck again?”

Bucky chuckled, hugging you tightly before saying, “Yes we can, pretty girl.”

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes au #mar's readings

2K notes · View notes

fluffysucker · 3 months

Text

I remember reading this when I first got in here and fell in love with it completely, but I couldn't find it again for the life of me. So happy I found it.

This story is the kind of story that you read, then you love and remember forever. The way it's written is just out of this world. To be able to describe feelings and situations so elaborately yet so delicate is something so wonderful. And it's beautifully done here

Amazing story💕

Safe With Me | Bucky Barnes x Reader

Hi, friends! May I offer you and angsty fic in these trying times?

If you like what you read, please reblog so that others can find my stuff! 🥰

Warnings: 🚨Implied SA🚨. Reader injury. Blood. Hurt / comfort.

"If you ever need me, just tell me

and I'll be there.

Cause I was built for you, yes,

I was built to carry all your feelings."

There was a time when Bucky first joined the team that he wanted to be disconnected, knowing that it was easier to be by himself than to try and open up to others. He wanted to appear aloof and unconcerned, simply doing his job and nothing more. Retreating to the empty silence of his mostly-bare bedroom kept him from forming attachments or getting to close to anyone on the team- but his resolve was nowhere near as strong as he’d thought. He tried to resist your warmth and charm, your bright smile and kind eyes- but simply couldn’t seem to stay away from you.

The warm feelings of safety and trust you’d planted deep in his heart blossomed into a beautiful friendship and, eventually, a fervent love. Everyone, including you, knew how strongly he felt about you. But, for Bucky, acknowledging those feelings felt taboo, almost as if bringing them into the light would scare you away- so he kept his pining for you restricted to the shadows.

But you returned his love tenfold. He was the first person you wanted to go to with good news and bad, the one you wanted to stay up late with and sleep in next to on Sunday mornings. But you settled for being his close, close friend, handling the situation carefully as though dismantling an atomic bomb. Bucky was deeply hurt. He’d been tortured and tormented for decades, leaving him lacking an ability to trust anyone- even himself. And dropping an ‘I love you’ on him seemed to you like a recipe for disaster.

But he felt whole around you. Something about you encouraged him to trust again, and telling you every dark detail of his past life left him feeling unburdened for the first time in decades.

Spending time away from you was by far his least favorite thing to do. He hated going on missions without you, but hated being sent on separate missions even more. If you weren’t assigned to a mission while he was away, at least he knew you were safe at home in your cozy apartment. But when the two of you got sent away on different operations, he could feel himself falling apart at the seams. Knowing that he couldn’t be there with you to watch your back and make sure you returned home safe ate away at him like a vicious parasite, consuming his sanity until he saw you again.

“Alright, meet in your room like always. Yeah?” you finished lacing up your combat boots and pulled Bucky in for a hug, promising to meet in the usual spot when the two of you returned from your separate missions. “Of course, doll. Then pizza at your place?” Bucky much preferred spending time at your apartment in the city- getting away from the compound and living some illusion of a “normal” life until duty called. “Duh”, you gave Bucky an extra squeeze and the two of your parted ways in the direction of your respective jets.

“Hey, sweetheart,” Bucky called, stopping you in your tracks, “be careful, would you?” You jogged in his direction with your pinky outstretched, linking it with his when you got close enough.

“Promise, Barnes. You watch your ass, okay?”

“Promise, doll”.

With one last wink, you turned on your heel and ran toward the hangar, going confidently in the direction of your mission. Bucky let a dopey smile crawl across his face as he watched you disappear down the hall- he loved you. And if he made it back from this mission alive, he’d tell you.

He did return alive, but didn’t find you in the agreed upon spot. His room sat empty, undisturbed and locked in an eerily quiet stillness. He expected you to be sprawled across his bed in your pajamas, catching up on Drag Race or marathoning Schitt’s Creek as you waited for his return, but you were nowhere to be found. He checked the hangar log for the third time, confirming that your team had, indeed, returned to the compound two days before.

Dread pierced his chest, making it impossible to breathe. The image of you lying in the medbay, bloody and broken, rendered him frozen, but an icy tingling sensation prickled down the length of his spine as an even more horrifying possibility entered his mind. What if you weren’t in the medbay…what if you were lying in the morgue?

He rushed down the hall to Rhodey’s door in a desperate search for answers. The loud, metallic clanging of Bucky’s vibranium arm striking the door made Rhodey jump, “Barnes? What are you doing?” Rhodey stood before him clad in his pj’s, clearly having been woken up.

“Where is she? Is she-?”

“She’s fine- the mission was fine. I don't know where she is”, Rhodey huffed, “Is that all?” He stared expectantly at Bucky, wishing he hadn’t been given a room down the hall from the former Winter Soldier.

Bucky felt silly suddenly, embarrassment turning his cheeks a bright shade of pink. He'd gone into full panic mode before even checking the rest of the compound- maybe you were in the bathroom or grabbing a snack from the kitchen. “Um, yeah. I’m sorry. My bad”, Bucky gave Rhodes an awkward thumbs up and headed to continue his search.

With his en suite bathroom empty and the library and living room both missing your warm presence, Bucky headed for the kitchen. He found Clint sitting by himself, eating a BLT and talking on the phone with his new partner, Kate. “Barton, hey. Have you seen-”

Clint asked Kate to give him a sec and rolled his eyes at Bucky, “have I seen your girlfriend?”

Bucky never liked Clint much, but grew a particularly negative attitude toward him after he heard how Nat died. “Not my girlfriend, but- have you seen her? Is she around?”

Clint shook his head and took another bite of his sandwich, “haven’t seen her. She grabbed her shit and ditched the second the jet touched down. Didn’t come to the debriefing we had yesterday, either”. Alarm bells sounded in Bucky’s brain. You were a straight and narrow, by the book member of the team- you never would’ve missed a debriefing. With a new sense of urgency, Bucky ripped his phone from his pocket and dialed your number, only to be greeted with your voicemail.

“Did it go straight to voicemail?” Wanda stood in the doorway, mug in hand, “Sorry, I was eavesdropping. I keep calling her too, but I think she turned her phone off. Or it died. It’s not like her…” Wanda was your closest friend on the team, aside from Bucky. She loved stealing you away for girls’ nights and movie marathons, telling Bucky that you needed some “girl time”- which you always used to talk about your feelings for him. “I’m worried about her-" Wanda said, "I went by her place this morning just to check in.... she won’t answer. I could hear the tv on, but she didn’t open the door”.

With that, Bucky made a dash to the garage. He hopped on his motorcycle and sped toward your apartment, his nerves tangling into knots for the entirety of the ride. He turned the fifteen-minute drive into a seven minute sprint, slicing through traffic and breaking the speed limit to reach you as quickly as he could.

When he finally arrived outside your door, he heard Moira Rose’s voice blaring from your tv. Normally, your laughter accompanied the crazy antics of the Rose Family and the rest of the characters from Schitt’s Creek, but you were silent.

Bucky knocked with no response.

He knocked again. Silence.

“Doll, it’s me. It’s Bucky… Is everything okay? Wanda’s worried about you. I’m worried about you- could you talk to me? Please?” He waited patiently for a response, a sigh of relief leaving his chest when he heard your slow footsteps making their way toward the door. But the relief was short lived.

Bucky barely recognized you when you finally opened the door. Dark circles sat under your vacant, bloodshot eyes. Tear tracks stained your cheeks and mascara smudged your skin. Your normally neat hair rested in messy, bloody braids that stuck to your scalp, held in place by the dried, red ooze. A smattering of indigo bruises colored your neck and cheek, and a gash sat just above your eyebrow, it’s bloody trail dried along your face. You looked tired, used, hollow.

“Oh, sweetheart…” Bucky choked, worry blazing in his chest, “what- what happened?”

Without warning, you collapsed into his body, sobs wracking your fragile form. Stunned, Bucky’s mouth hung open as the strongest person he knew fell apart before his eyes. He caught you with ease and carried you to the couch, holding you as you wept against his chest. He didn’t know what to say or how to help you, opting to stroke your back in an attempt to help you calm down. It was a small gesture that you always did for him, and the least he could do was return the favor.

But when your breaths grew erratic and devolved into sharp, shallow gasps, Bucky launched into action. He knew all too well how to spot a panic attack, and employed all of his strategies to help you out of yours. He walked you through the breathing exercises and helped you focus on nothing but him, clearing your mind of the aggressive panic.

“That’s good- That’s so good- yeah, just look at me. Just like that- I'm right here.” Bucky encouraged you and kept watch of your breathing, working with you as gently and slowly as you needed. But your chest burned. It ached with the hurt and sorrow and fear that your most recent mission had thrust upon you, and you were certain that you were dying- but you were okay with that.

“See? You’re okay. You’re alright, doll. You’re safe with me”, Bucky took your face in his hands when your breathing finally evened out, assessing the every scrape and bruise that now decorated your skin. “Do you want to talk about it? You don’t have to. But you can- if you want”.

You fell silent, your eyes aimed downward as every disgusting memory of your mission took hold of you. Bucky watched you disappear into the horror, your eyes growing emptier and more haunted by the second. With a shake of your head, you denied Bucky any information about what you’d done, what you’d experienced at the hands of one of Hydra’s most notorious arms dealers. “Okay- that’s fine. Have you eaten today?” Bucky’s heart sunk when you shook your head once again.

He sunk his teeth into his bottom lip as worry twisted the knife in his gut. He knew your mission returned two days prior and that you’d come home immediately to isolate yourself from the rest of the team- meaning that you most likely hadn’t eaten in about three days.

“Alright, let me make you something, sweets. I’ll make anything you want”, but Bucky’s offer was thwarted by your empty kitchen. The best he could do was some peanut butter toast and a glass of water, but it was better than nothing.

Some of the light returned to your eyes after you’d finished eating, but they remained vacant. Bucky couldn’t help but think that you looked like a ghost haunting your former body, lacking the vibrant warmth that usually colored your cheeks and brightened your smile. “Do you maybe want to get cleaned up? I should take a look at that gash on your forehead and any others you might have, get ‘em cleaned out. Just so they don’t get infected”.

The thought of stripping out of your clothes and looking at the damage that littered your body made your stomach turn. You’d changed into your comfy clothes the second you’d gotten home but made the mistake of doing so in front of the full-length mirror. Your skin looked like a warzone, marred and abused and neglected. Each injury brough a new memory hurtling forward, each one more horrifying than the last.

The desperate need to stay safely wrapped up in your sweats for the rest of eternity was all encompassing, but Bucky was right. With a cautious nod, you agreed to his plan and let him take your hand. He led you to the bathroom and ran you a warm bath, testing the water every few moments to ensure that it wasn’t too hot.

“Okay, um. I’ll just be out in the hall. Call for me if you need anything, okay? And I’ll tend to all your wounds once you’re cleaned up. Sound good?” Bucky gave your hand a squeeze and headed for the door, but you stopped him.

When you’d initially arrived back from the mission, being alone was the only thing you wanted. But now that Bucky was with you, you didn’t want to be without him. He brought a sense of safety and comfort that you needed desperately, and spending even a few minutes without him seemed impossible.

“Stay…” you breathed, your voice raspy from disuse.

“Okay, doll. Promise.” He pressed a kiss to the back of your hand and gave you a reassuring nod, easing a fraction of your anxiety.

With Bucky’s help, you shed your sweatshirt, the henley you’d ‘borrowed’ from him, and the AC/DC t-shirt that obscured your torso. Bucky fell speechless as his eyes raked over you, a pit forming rapidly in his stomach. Dark, nasty bruises lay scattered all over your body, staining your ribs, stomach, wrists, and breasts a sickly purple. Teeth marks and scratches sunk deep into the flesh, leaving dark red impressions all over your skin. Combined with the dark blue bruises that encircled your throat, your injuries painted a very detailed picture for Bucky- a picture of non-consensual acts performed for the good of the mission.

With his heart in his throat, Bucky assisted you in removing the two pairs of sweatpants and two pairs of socks that adorned your bottom half. It might’ve been a warm August afternoon, but covering your tortured body brought you some semblance of comfort- even if you were almost sweating through your layers. Bruises resembling handprints and fingertips splattered across your thighs and backside, giving Bucky even more clues as to what you'd endured. Dark rings of bruises around both ankles completed the picture for Bucky, and he knew you'd been through hell.

His hand shook ever so slightly as he helped you into the tub with a manufactured smile. He was seconds away from falling apart at the sight of your battered body, but simply couldn’t let himself break. You clearly needed someone to be there for you, to make you feel safe and taken care of- and Bucky desperately wanted to be that person. He wanted to give you the same warmth and support that you always afforded him on his darkest days. It killed Bucky seeing you so shaken, so tormented, but he kept his composure as best he could, giving you the shoulder to cry on that he knew you needed.

With gentle hands, Bucky helped you rid your hair of the blood that fused it into sticky, red clumps. He worked slowly and carefully, ensuring that he wouldn’t cause you any more pain or discomfort. And when the bath grew a sickly vermillion, Bucky ran you fresh water, banishing the memories of your mission down the drain. It took longer than expected to get you cleaned up, but Bucky didn’t mind. He wanted to make you as comfortable as possible, no matter how long it took.

“How’s this for pajamas?” Bucky offered you a sweatshirt and a pair of plaid pajama pants he’d given you for your birthday, complete with a pair of dinosaur undies. You nodded in approval and allowed him to help you get out of the tub, welcoming the cozy towel he wrapped around your shoulders.

But before Bucky could let you get dressed, he needed to appraise and treat your wounds.

He helped you dry off and sat you down on the edge of the tub as he looked you over, starting with your legs. A deep cut in your left ankle, no doubt the result of a restraint tied too tight, needed his attention. It was red and angry, clearly inflamed and probably on the brink of infection. Bucky grabbed the first aid kit from under the sink and got to work, treating you with the care you deserved.

A sharp hiss ripped through your gritted teeth as he cleaned the wound with betadine and saline, hopefully banishing the oncoming infection.

“I know, I’m sorry, doll…” He dressed it gently with a bandage and moved on to the next injury, a series of scrapes on your right knee. His jaw tensed as he connected the dots of your injuries- the tight restraint cutting into your ankle, the scrapes on your knee no doubt coming from you tripping and falling during your eventual escape. It sent a wave of sadness barreling into him, but he couldn't let you see it.

With the scrapes cleaned and bandaged, Bucky helped you into your underwear and sweatpants, noting the sense of relief you experience at being covered once again.

With you half dressed, Bucky moved to the frighteningly deep bite mark in your left breast. “Jesus…” Bucky shuddered, adding this wound into the puzzle of your injuries before banishing the thought from his mind- he wasn’t sure he wanted the full story. He touched the deep wound gently, assessing its severity.

“I know you don’t want to talk about it, so I’m not gonna make you….” Bucky kept his gaze fixed on your injury, knowing he’d lose it if he met your eyes with his. “You just need to know that whatever happened to you is not okay. And it isn’t your fault. You shouldn’t have been put in that position.”

You simply nodded at him, unable to speak for fear of another breakdown. But Bucky stopped working when he noticed a tear rolling down your neck.

“Am I hurting you?” Bucky removed his hands from your skin, alarm striking through him. But he wasn’t hurting you- Bucky couldn’t never hurt you.

“No…” you managed, “I just- thank you”. Bucky wiped gently at your tears and pressed a kiss to your forehead, sending a warm rush thought your body. With the mark on your breast cleaned and covered, Bucky slipped the sweatshirt carefully over your head.

He wished there was a way to treat the startling number of deep bruises that littered your skin. But no amount of gauze or betadine could heal them. Instead, they were to lay beneath your skin, darkening every day and revealing just how deeply you’d been hurt. They’d serve as harsh reminders of the violence you’d experienced- not that you needed reminding. You could never forget. Bucky knew the deep purples and blues would force you to relive the horror every time you got undressed, every time you looked at yourself in the mirror.

“Okay, doll, last one”, Bucky cleaned and bandaged the gash on your forehead, noting just how deep it was. Another wave of dread washed over him as he thought about the amount of force necessary to create such a wound. Between the head injury and the bruises around your neck, he couldn’t believe you’d gotten back alive- moreover, he couldn’t believe Rhodes let you leave without going to the medbay.

But the shame kept you from seeking help. Sitting in the jet with the team while everyone looked at you had been suffocating, and getting away from them seemed to be the only remedy. Every one of them knew what you’d suffered through, knew what you’d experienced-hell, they heard the whole thing over comms. It only made sense to divulge the details to Bucky; he was your best friend and the person you loved most, your trusted confidante.

But telling him felt far too risky- you couldn’t lose him. If he saw you differently or thought less of you because of it, you’d fall apart.

“Have you gotten any sleep these last few days?” Bucky noted your red-rimmed eyes and hollow stare, already knowing the answer to his question- but his heart still broke when you shook your head ‘no’.

“Okay, well, I think it would be a good idea if you got some rest… what do you think?” He watched you toy with the strings of your hoodie, your jagged, broken nails snagging on the fabric now and then.

“Is it okay if... would you lay with me? I- I think I’m gonna have nightmares…” the shame forced your eyes down, avoiding Bucky’s gaze at all costs, "that's why I haven't slept". Never in your life had you felt so weak, so pathetic, so utterly empty. But Bucky didn’t see you that way. He obliged your request, accompanying you to your bedroom and getting your blankets and pillows arranged just the way you liked them.

“Oh, shit. I’m still in my tac gear- I should really get cleaned up before I get in your bed…”

“Buck- I sat in my own blood and grime for two days”, you sighed, wincing as you climbed into bed, “I don’t care… please, lay with me?”

Somehow, the warm bath had you feeling sorer and stiffer than before, your entire body aching as you collapsed into your pillow. Bucky joined you, unsure of how close he should get- but you answered his question before he could even ask. You buried your face in his chest and wound your arms around his neck, holding on to him for dear life.

“You know I trust you, right?” you lifted your face from Bucky’s tactical suit and looked up at him, concern drawing your brows together. Bucky nodded, waiting for the other shoe to drop. “I know you’ve told me all your stuff- everything that happened to you. And that it was a big deal for you to trust me. And I don’t want you to think that I don’t trust you- I want to tell you everything that happened. I just… I can’t go through it all again. Not yet. And I know that’s not fair, but-”

“Hey, it’s not about being fair. This isn’t a transactional relationship. You can tell me all about it when you’re ready- or you can keep it to yourself forever. I don’t care. You should do what’s best for you, not what you think will make us even. Okay?” Bucky smoothed a gentle hand over your hair. “Just get some rest. You need it. And I’m gonna be right here- You're safe with me, doll.”

You buried you face in his chest once again, whispering a quiet “thank you” against his tac suit. “No thanks necessary, sweets. I’m always here for you- always”.

Bucky ran a hand gently up and down your spine, soothing you to sleep. When your breathing evened out and Bucky was certain that you'd fallen asleep, he whispered a confession in your ear- "I love you..." He reached over and turned off your bedside lamp, plunging the room into darkness, "but we can talk about that later".

———————————

Tag list: @beefybuckrrito @shadytalementality @everything-burns-down @rainbow-unicorn-pony @mandersshow @breakablebarnes @psychoticmason @glxwingrxse @deepsketchsupernaturalcowboy @mrsdrysdale18 @lonewolf471 @dreamerglassesgirl @the-gods-gloted-but-they-burned @cwbucky @duchessoftheheart @seitmai @itvy5601 @hisxsoulmate @dailyreverie @navs-bhat @themorningsunshine @masteroflightningz @eviesaurusrex 💜

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes x female reader #bucky barnes fanfic #bucky barnes angst #mar's readings

390 notes · View notes

fluffysucker · 4 months

Text

You are so nice. Your words made my day. Thank you so much💕💕

Bad Things

Bucky Barnes x Reader

TW: Violence. Fighting. Brief mention of torture. Steve is alive and well.

The only way out was to awake them. And you did.

A/n: Heavily influenced by oxytocin by Billie Eilish. No like you will find lyrics throughout. Listen to it while reading, please.

Written in Third POV. No use of Y/N. However, the reader is referred to as a female. Likes, comments, reblogs are VERY VERY highly appreciated. Opinions really matter to me.

Main Masterlist

You were sure that if you weren't driving the motorcycle, your legs would be bouncing, your hands would be shaking, and your palms would be sweating. But you were focusing on the road ahead despite feeling like you were driving on autopilot. You may not look like it, but you were a mess. Internally, at least. Anxity from the plan, danger of the situation, horrors from flashbacks, and uncertainty of the results. You were bitting your lips that you were close to feeling the metallic-tasting liquid on your tongue.

The darkness that grew, the further you got close to the agreed upon location, wasn't helping either. For someone who did this for a lifetime, you were spiraling. You wished you could cancel everything and come up with something different, but you couldn't.

Can't take it back once it's been set in motion.

You started to regulate your breath, take control of your mind, and keep your heartbeats in check once you saw the warehouse. It was now. There was no going back.

You stopped the motorcycle abruptly, causing the sand and dust around you to fly away. You took one last breath before taking the helmet out.

You got up and steadied your posture. The suit was never comfortable on your skin. Today, you felt like it was crawling on your skin, trying to devour you. You hid the suffocating feeling and put the act into action.

If you only pray on Sunday,

Could you come my way on Monday?

Confidence and peril were displayed. A strenuous look on your face. You were back in her.

"I thought you weren't coming." His voice annoyed you so much that you wanted to cut his throat open.

"I gave you a word, didn't I?" You came to a stop with enough distance between you and him. Even your voice was different in your ears.

"It's not like you had many choices." His laugh sent shivers through your body that you were able to hide.

"I always believed in your intelligence, moon." You pulled your hands into fists to stop any visible reaction from coming out of you.

The name was only associated with corruption and cruelty. Something the man in front of you strived for.

"With both of your capabilities, we will go back to the top of the world." The evil smile was more telling of his intentions than his disturbing words.

With the mere mention of him, you felt the air get thicker, the wind blowing harder, the stars dimming their lights, and the rocks and pebbles shaking on the floor.

He was here.

"Great. We didn't have to wait long for him." The man almost clapped in excitement.

In the sea of the darkness of the night and the void you were in, he appeared. His black suit made him almost unseen in the darkness of the night. But his heavy footsteps made him known.

The golden in his arm reflecting the light of the stars and the mask covering all his face except the eyes were making him even more fearful.

In person, he was much more terrifying than the stories and myths.

However, the crazy man didn't think so.

"Would you look at that?" He said once that the two of you were standing next to each other. You wanted to hold his hand, seeking any sort of comfort and reassurance, but you knew it would blow out your act.

"The Winter Soldier and Wicked Moon. Together and back at their home."

Dugal, the man speaking, had been the bane of your existence for some time now. Every mission, every warehouse, every file, and every piece of evidence all trailed back to him.

The manic, who had been obsessed with bringing Hydra back to life,.

With the right allies and calculated steps, he was able to achieve most of his plans in secret, but why show yourself now? Why draw attention to you now?

Because it was time to get Hydra's greatest weapons back.

You and your husband.

You and Sergeant James Barnes

Wicked Moon and The Winter Soldier.

You and Bucky shared the same life. Kidnapped by Hydra, injected with the serum, erased and brainwashed, trained to maximum efficiency. You reached levels of skills that were unmatched.

Despite the different start, you and Bucky were the faces of the same coin.

You were taken a bit after Bucky. Hydra had the goal of making both of you into its lethal duo. Unbeatable and unpredictable. You and Bucky became the ghost story for decades. Never once seen or traced.

You were a myth that terrified all.

And for decades, you spent all your days with Bucky, or who you called soldier at a time, because you didn't know his real name. Nor did he know yours, and he called you Moon.

You shared a cell. You trained together. You were sent on missions together. You were tortured together. You were used to each other's screams and pains. You were the same person in many ways.

While Hydra was blinded and happy with your success rate and obedience, they failed to notice the deep connection that was forming between the two of you.

The comfort you found in each other. The conversations without words. The accustomedness. The long eye contact and gaze The gentle touches that only you provided each other with. The worry and panic if one went on solo missions.

You understood each other. You trusted each other. You empathized with each other. You prayed for each other's freedom.

You loved each other.

So, looking at Bucky with questioning and worried eyes above Steve Roger's unconscious body after you disobeyed the direct orders of eliminating Steve and following Bucky to save him from death by drowning, Bucky knew he could never leave you. He took your hand and ran away.

Other people wouldn't stay

Other people don't obey

You and me are both the same

You should really run away

It was a long and bumpy road. Gaining back your memories and learning how to live. But you held each other's hands. And in the face of all the hardships, you stood together.

You fought it all until you finally settled into your shared apartment in Brooklyn. Almost ten years after escaping Hydra.

You thought life was finally good. You knew who you were. You got back your identities. You were healing bit by bit. You finished therapy and were officially pardoned. You were allowed on missions, but more importantly, you were allowed to turn down missions. A luxury you and Bucky never had.

You were so happy for Bucky, who got to have his bestfriend back, Steve, and make a new one, Sam. You were happy that one of you could have someone, especially after finding out that you had nobody, which made you the perfect target for Hydra in the first place.

But being the good people they were, Steve and Sam instantly took you in like family. They could easily tell how much you meant to Bucky. Even from the first day. Whether on the bridge or in Bucharest, The uncontrolled urge to protect you despite being perfectly capable of looking after yourself. The care and admiration in his eyes whenever you were around or your name was mentioned. All and more signs that exposed Bucky's feelings for you.

They were more than happy when Bucky told them that you got married on the very long, overdue vacation that you went on.

You were everything to Bucky's. His love. His life. His rescue. His salvation. You were his reason to keep going.

While he felt bad that you had to go through the tough life you had, he couldn't imagine how his life would have looked if he had never met you.

So when the danger of Hydra taking you away from him arose with Dugal's appearance, Bucky almost lost his mind.

Dugal seemed insistent on taking you and Bucky back. He was destroying places, terrorizing, and hurting innocent people. Dugal heard you were trying to be good people, so he played on your conscience. He was pushing you and Bucky towards this moment. The moment you caved and gave up. The moment you returned to Hydra.

So, with his knife on Cass's neck, you surrendered. You promised to meet him and do whatever he wanted. And you promised to bring Bucky as well. He wanted the both of you.

And you listened.

Here you were. In the suits you thought you would never put on again. Triggering the two people you buried so deeply within. In front of the warehouse of an enemy, you fought for and against your whole lives.

"This is your home. This is your purpose. Not fake heroism. You were made to serve the greater good. To protect and serve Hydra." Dugal's voice made its way to your ears.

"You belong to Hydra. And Hydra only."

'Cause as long as you're still breathing

Don't you even think of leaving

Not gonna wanna look away, look away, look away

You're gonna wanna get involved, involved, involved

And what would people say, people say, people say

If they listen through the wall, the wall, the wall?

You kept the stoic expression on your face, refusing to let him see the effect his words had on you.

The door of the warehouse opened, and walking out of it were Dugal's two trusted men that you saw everywhere with him. Nedward and Alexios. They stopped behind him.

Following them, hundreds of agents came out of the warehouse. They surrounded you and Bucky in seconds. You looked at Dugal, confused.

"I want to make sure you are still the best. I want to know where to pick up from." His smile was wicked and filled with bad intentions.

"Call it a test. A test of Wicked Moon and The Winter Soldier's abilities." His wicked smile wasn't flattering.

You got into a fighting position quickly, not willing to lose this. You felt Bucky take position, too, his back turning to you. You were back-to-back, moving in slow circles, assisting the situation.

And once the first agent threw the punch, it was nonstop.

I can see it clear as day

You don't really need a break

Wanna see what you can take

You should really run away

While the agents largely outnumbered you, they were at a disadvantage. You and Bucky fought like one. You had a never-seen-before fight style. You designed it so that you used each other's strengths to the full and utilized the weaknesses as power points. You used your full bodies in fighting. You were familiar with each other's bodies and movements. You grabbed weapons that were strapped to the other's suit. You twisted around each other to reach as many targets as possible. You trained until you perfected it. No flaws. No mistakes. No room for lacunas.

It didn't take long before the last agent was down on the floor. You felt like it was harder to breathe. There was a ringing noise in your ears. Your hand wanted to start shaking. Tears were rushing to your eyes. You were having a panic attack.

Memories of missions and assignments you did throughout your life It all looked like this. You standing above the fallen, waiting for your destiny to be decided by an evil organization that thought of you as an object of killing.

Dugal's voice gave you a sense of where you were and the situation around you. Quickly, you pushed your emotions inside and regained your focus. A trait you learned from your days at Hydra. Human emotions were never well accepted by Hydra.

You shook your head as you looked at Dugal, who was clapping slowly.

"Excellent. Great job." He moved a bit towards the both of you.

"It seems you haven't changed. Still the best." You succeeded in his test.

"You did cost me all the agents in the base. But we will bring more." Dugal was proud of the two assets.

"So it's only us in here?" You were hoping to get a specific answer.

"Yes. Tomorrow, I will bring agents and recruiters. Also, scientists who know how to treat and handle great weapons like you. This will be Hydra's biggest base." Dugal seemed excited for his plan.

However, once the words left his mouth, chaos erupted everywhere.

Bucky caught the shield in his hand as Sam and Steve landed on the ground and attacked Dugal. You and Bucky moved to Nedward and Alexios. Each taking on one.

Cars and vehicles appeared everywhere, lighting up the deserted place.

This was the plan all along.

No matter how much time passed, Hydra's men would always have something in common. They were arrogant. They had an ego big enough for an entire population. And that made them stupid. That made them vulnerable to mistakes.

You and Bucky knew that more than anyone. So the plan was to trick Dugal with your alliance until he was defenceless. It was risky, but it worked.

You only let go of Alexios once handcuffs were secured around his wrists. Same with Bucky and Nedward. You turned to see Sam and Steve holding Dugal until Torres handcuffed him.

"You think you won?" His words were more direct towards you and Bucky.

"You think you can ever escape this? You think you can be free? You are delusional. Hydra will never die." Dugal continued. Torres handcuffed him, letting Steve through him in one of the more armored cars and strapping him more.

"Cut off one head; two more shall take its place. Hail HYDRA!"

Steve closed the door of the car.

They weren't planning to cut off one head. They were planning to burn down the whole bunch. No mercy. No stopping until they were all gone.

Once his voice was muted and you couldn't see him anymore, you couldn't hold up any longer. You sat on the ground, hugging your knees to your chest, trying to get hold of yourself, trying to reconnect, trying to disassociate from what just happened.

Like you, immediately after the car started to move, Bucky threw the mask off his face, finally breathing. He hated everything about this mask. Trapped like an animal behind it. Deprived of any form of humanity.

He prayed he never had to put on again.

"You okay?" Sam asked his friend, worried about the mental toll this whole act may have had on him.

Despite having his nephews being the ones in danger, Sam was against this plan. He cared about you and Bucky dearly and didn't want to know how stepping back into your assassin personas would hurt your healing. You had come a long way.

While your quick response to save his nephews and willingness to do this for them touched his heart immensely, Sam couldn't help but feel like they should come up with something else.

But both of you insisted, and it worked, but was the cost expensive?

Bucky nodded. They were okay physically, at least.

Bucky turned around to see you still sitting on the sandy ground, face in hand. He knew it wasn't just today, but the whole thing. Hydra still haunted you, messing with your progress. He understood.

Bucky sat on the ground next to you. He wrapped his arms around your waist, pulling into him and letting you lay in his laps, both of your legs on the side of his thigh. You nuzzled into his neck, holding his gear in your hand. You wanted to disappear in him.

"It's over. You're fine. You are okay. You are safe." Bucky's voice whispered in your ears, the end of his long hair touching your face and his hands wrapping up your back and waist.

You felt the tension leaving your body a bit by bit, making yourself only focus on Bucky's voice and letting yourself breathe. You knew you were surrounded by people, but you didn't care.

You only cared about Bucky right now.

You moved away from Bucky so you could look at him.

"We are okay. We are safe." You said to Bucky.

Because you cared about Bucky more than you cared about yourself. You loved Bucky more than anything. Bucky was the reason you were still alive. Bucky was your everything.

You wanted him to know that he was okay, too. You both survived this. You weren't back in that cell. You were going to your home.

Being the good-hearted person he was, Bucky always felt responsible for you. Even when he was the Winter Soldier. That's how the spark between you kindled. His instincts to protect you and care for you took a big part of him. And that made you fall deeper in love with him.

But you loved him just as much, if not more. You wanted to protect him from the hell you went through. Because he didn't deserve it. None of it.

The bigger burden of today wasn't the possibility of falling back into your old selves. It was the possibility of losing your partner to Hydra and watching them lose themselves once again.

You both came in with one goal. Protect each other to death.

And you succeeded. You were fine.

Bucky looked at you with love pouring out of his eyes. Bucky didn't understand how, after so much evil, he was still able to feel such strong emotions of love and adoration. But you melted him and lived in his heart. You were printed on his soul.

He nodded with a smile. You were okay. He leaned in and kissed you. It was a slow and gentle kiss. A reminder that you were both still yourselves. You were free. You were okay.

"Let's go home." You spoke once the kiss broke.

Home. Bucky was going home to the city he grew up in. He was going home to a place he had chosen to live. He was going home, where he would take a shower and lay on a comfortable bed. Bucky was going with his wife. Bucky was going to hold on as you both got rid of the remains of tonight. Bucky was going to hold you as you both drifted to sleep, dreaming of your future together.

Hydra didn't win. You were okay.

#reblogs

174 notes · View notes

fluffysucker · 4 months

Text

Thank you so much💕