the cap quartet summed up in two pictures:
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Request: spontaneously dragging Bucky into random makeout sessions throughout the day and then just leaving him out of breath as you continue in with your business.
Sealed with a Kiss
Pairing: Bucky x reader
Word Count: 821
Summary: You keep stealing kisses with Bucky and then leaving him flat...
Author's Note: Hi lovely! This is so cute and sexy and I love it! Thank you! I would kiss Bucky until the end of time! Hope you enjoy and you're having a nice day! HUGS! 🥰 Thank you all so much for reading! Much love always! ❤❤❤ Jobean divider by the lovely @imerdwarf and line divider by the lovely @skylightlantern
Warnings: Soft and sweet with lots of kisses and some spice :)
Gif not mine: Credit goes to @buvky thank you so much🥰
Bucky walks out of the bathroom, a towel slung low on his hips and droplets of water still trickling their way down the curves of muscle that line his chest. You saunter up to him, taking his face between your hands and kiss him.
With a shove you have him against the wall, the slow press of your tongue between his lips making a low rumble of pleasure rise from his chest. Your fingertips trace along his chiseled jaw then graze the strong column of his neck until your nails are dancing down his abdominals and combing through the small patch of hair that disappears into his towel.
His metal hand grips your waist and he pulls your body flush to his. You can feel how hard he is through the towel as you suck and nip on his bottom lip before softly kissing the tender flesh. Your lips move to the corner of his mouth then across his cheek and finally just under his ear where you kiss him softly and step back.
“I’ll see you later Buck,” you whisper, throwing him a little wink over your shoulder.
The meeting takes longer than expected and you’re so ready to leave. Bucky’s sitting next to you, his hand resting on your thigh as his thumb rubs small circles over the fabric of your pants. His legs are spread wide and his jeans are pulled impossibly tight over his thick thighs. None of this helps you remain focused.
When the meeting finally ends and Sam dismisses everyone you rush down the hallway with your hand in Bucky’s and as soon as you find an open door you push him inside the room. The door clicks shut and you stalk toward him, pushing him down until he’s sitting in one of the desk chairs.
He doesn’t say a word as you straddle his waist and rake your hands through his hair. You slowly bring your lips to his, at first just brushing them over the soft skin as your thumb brushes across his cheek. With a few more teasing touches you deepen the kiss and part his lips, tugging on his hair when he throbs beneath you.
His hands slip under your shirt and splay across your back, pulling you closer until you feel his chest brush yours with every breath he takes. He makes the softest moans and sweetest sighs the longer you kiss him and it’s almost impossible to pull away.
When you do, his eyes are dark and his lips are pink and swollen.
“I love you Buck. I’ll see you after yoga.”
You crawl onto the bed and between his legs, carefully pulling the book from his hands. Your fingertips brush along his forehead and trace the smile lines at the corner of his eye. Your nose softly bumps his and you tilt your head, lowering your lips in a feather light kiss.
His arms immediately circle around your waist and his metal hand ghosts along your spine until he’s gripping the back of your neck. You kiss his lips, his cheeks, his jaw and all the way down his neck until you meet his pulse point and then lightly suck on the warm skin.
You can feel him tremble, his muscles contracting with every touch of your lips. Slowly you drag your nose along his neck and kiss just under his ear before taking the soft flesh of his earlobe between your teeth and giving it a little tug. He groans and your lips meet his, swallowing any more sounds he makes.
You lift your head and start to roll off him, opening your mouth to speak but in one quick move he has you pinned under him and his finger covering your lips.
“I don’t think so baby doll,” he simpers.
“Buck,” you giggle. “You know I have somewhere to be.”
“I don’t care. You’re not leaving again.”
You realize there is no way you’re getting away as Bucky’s hard body presses you into the mattress. The next thing you feel is the strength of his metal hand as it closes around your throat and his other cradling your cheek as he drags you closer and covers your mouth with his.
You sigh into the kiss, into the weight of his body, the smell of him and it all overpowers you and you make a throaty sound you can’t control. Bucky’s hand at your throat tightens and he growls.
The kiss grows deeper, more demanding and long enough to steal your breath. Your nails dig into his back and you moan into his mouth again, unable to stop it as he rocks his hips into you.
He breaks the kiss, pulling back only an inch to look you in the eyes. His own are dark, his long lashes lowered as he trails his tongue over his lips.
“You’re mine for the rest of the night,” he whispers.
@book-dragon-13 @drabblewithfrannybarnes @hiddles-rose @jhangelface0523 @jewels2876 @loricameback @lookiamtrying @marvelgirl7 @nano--raptor @randomfandompenguin @in-umbra-gratia @saiyanprincessswanie @dreamlessinparis @bbl32 @musicalmuffindog1410 @moongreydreams
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oops i suck at titles and descriptions Some dangerous men get your address and Bucky has to save you.
Warnings: Mafia!Bucky, language, beginnings of seggsy time at the end
18+ only, Minors DNI
Words: 1.3K sorry its short
This is a submission for @metalbuckaroo's 2k writing challenge. Prompts in order of appearance:
42 Hey! Only I can call them that!
16 I thought you’d never ask
3 is that my shirt
1 you look better in my clothes than I do
“What do you mean they have her address?” Bucky growled at the two men standing on the opposite side of his desk. He started to crack each knuckle individually on his right hand while he waited for an answer.
“Well, boss, sir, it was Macoy. He sold the Dover boys some information and part of what they wanted was her address. Everyone knows about her, everyone who matters, anyway.” The man shuffled back and forth nervously. Bucky’s eyes stared a hole through him and the second man spoke up.
“Should we tell Y/n, boss? Post guards or somethin’?”
Bucky slammed his fists down on the desk, making both men jump. “Hey!” he barked. “Only I can call her that, you understand? It's Ms. Y/l/n to you assholes. Have some respect or you’ll pay for it with blood! Get the fuck out of my office and take care of Macoy!” The men practically ran out of the room. “I want proof on my desk in two hours!” screamed Bucky. “STEVE!”
Steve Rogers stepped in and softly closed the door behind him. “Yeah, I heard. Sent a group of guys over to her house already, and got your car pulled around front. You want me to go get her while you finish work?”
Bucky stood up and grabbed his coat. He straightened his tie and threw a couple files from his desk into a briefcase. “Good man, Steve. No, you stay here and take care of the place. If those two idiots don’t come back with proof they offed Macoy, send another team out to kill all three of them. After that, take the rest of the night off. Tomorrow, you and I will figure out what to do with the Dover boys. I’m going to go get my girl.” He clapped a hand onto Steve’s shoulder. “Thanks for the help.”
When Bucky got to your house, his guys were surrounding it quietly. He was sure you didn’t know they were there. He walked past them and rang your doorbell.
You cautiously went to the door to peek outside. It was the middle of the afternoon, and Bucky wasn’t supposed to be here for a while yet. But there he was, standing all stern on your doorstep.
You opened the door and waved him in. “Hi, what’s going on.” You looked around and saw the boys standing on each corner of your house. “Gentlemen.” You nodded to each of them and closed the door behind your boyfriend. “Was I supposed to come in to work today, hon? What’s with the show of muscle?” You took a few steps and met his eyes. “Bucky, you look worried and it’s starting to scare me. I need you to talk to me.”
He looked down and sighed. “This isn’t how I wanted to do this, my love, but I need you to come stay with me tonight.”
You smiled a little. You hadn’t stayed the night with him yet, but had wanted to for a while. He wanted to take things slow with you because of his line of work, although patience wasn’t really either of your strong suits. “I thought you’d never ask. Why, though? You don’t look happy about it.” You held is face and lifted it so he would look you in the eyes again. He jerked his face out of your hands and huffed.
“Just do it, ok doll?” His voice bordered on that boss attitude that was a huge no-no to use on you. If he wanted to marry you and be partners one day, you were not going to take that attitude now or ever because partners meant equals.
“Excuse me?” you asked without really asking. You took a step back and crossed your arms. “You wanna try that again James Barnes?”
He closed his eyes, pinched the bridge of his nose and rested a hand on his hip. “Y/n. Darling. Love of my life. Get in the fucking car, please. Remember Macoy, the guy who always wore the pants that were a little too long and the shirts that were a little too small? And the Dover Boys? The one’s who’s cousin I killed last year because he tried to take a picture up your skirt? Macoy sold the Dover Boys some info on us, part of that was your address. It isn’t safe here tonight and we can’t hang around and chat right now.” He raised one hand toward the door. “Can we go now?”
You raised an eyebrow at him. “Was that so fuckin’ hard? I’m going to go throw a few things together and then we can go.” He nodded and you ran up the stairs. You packed, put a few things in your fire-proof safe and locked it before ushering Bucky out of your house. You set the alarm system and closed the door behind you. He took your suitcase in one hand and interlocked your fingers with the other. It was silent between you two as you went to the car. He loaded your luggage and then opened the door for you, sliding in beside you.
The drive was a bit uncomfortable, but you waited for him to say whatever it was brewing behind those eyes. Thankfully, you didn’t have to wait long.
“I’m sorry,” he whispered in your ear. You were the only one you had ever heard him apologize to and it was something you treasured. “I should have told you everything, I’m worried about you. We’ll get this sorted out, and everything will be ok, but I felt so strongly that I needed to get you out of that house and to safety I wasn’t thinking clearly. Please forgive me.” He put his arm around your shoulders and you leaned into him, resting your head on his chest.
“I forgive you. Thank you for coming to get me.”
“I’ll always come for you.” He smirked and let his fingertips graze the top of your tits. “In more ways than one.”
You playfully slapped his stomach and laughed.
“Let’s go get some dinner and we can relax at my place.” Bucky had the best suggestions. You agreed and the driver headed to your favorite fast food joint.
A couple hours later, it was dark out and you and Bucky had finished eating dinner at his table. You stretched and stood up. “I think I’m gonna go change into my pjs. Meet you on the couch in a few minutes?”
He smiled at you contentedly. “It’s a date, princess.” He also stood and started clearing off the trash. While you changed, he started thinking about how firm you had been with him earlier. The attitude that rolled off you when he used the wrong tone…the way your ass bounced when you ran up the stairs…the way your lips sucked a hickey on his neck in the drive thru…the way you smiled at him when his hands grazed your inner thigh at the table. It was all driving him crazy. The danger of the situation and adrenaline probably didn’t help either. Just then, he glanced up and you were walking back into the room. You took his breath away. He was expecting sweat pants and a t-shirt, but this… You were wearing one of his thin white button up shirts, just a few buttons done to keep it closed around your chest. You were clearly not wearing a bra, and the shirt was see through enough to drive his imagination wild.
“Is that—” his voice cracked and he cleared his throat. “Is that my shirt?”
You smiled and blew him a kiss. “Whose else would it be?” You sat down on the couch facing him and spread your legs juuuuust enough.
You weren’t wearing underwear either.
He stared for a second, then whispered “You look better in my clothes than I do. What did I do to earn this tonight?”
“You saved me, Bucky. Now you get to destroy me.”
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...from the meet cute to the tragic separation, their bond has all the elements of a classic romance. These two men love each other — as any pair of friends who faced exclusion, combat, inhumanity, and death would. Their bond stretches across half of the twentieth century. Steve and Bucky are each other’s soulmate, if you will, because no one on Earth understands what either of them has been through as well as the other does.
-Christopher Markus and Stephen McFeely about Steve and Bucky
(Captain America: White)
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''Yea, we do''.
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Hi, I love your work, like for real top notch. Definitely my favorite account on here. And two could I possibly have like a blurb or something short( or how ever you want it.) of stripper!bucky reacting to the innocent reader getting nipple piercings. Lots of love😘😘
SUMMARY// Bucky gets nervous when you tell him you 'did something'
WARNINGS// Implied smut, mentions of piercings, pretty fluffy
AU// stripper!bucky x innocent!reader
NOTE// you have melted my heart into a puddle 🥺been awhile since I've done anything with stripper bucky, gonna have to fix that 😉
18+ ONLY MINORS DNI
Bucky hadn't seen you in a week, he was starting to get a certain homesickness for you. A craving that needed to be filled as he waited for you at his apartment, impatiently flicking through the selection on a streaming service.
Hearing the jingle of the doorknob, Bucky immediately put the remote down and sat straighter on his couch.
The moment you walked in, he noticed something different. The way you moved towards where he was sat screamed at him to ask what had changed.
"Something wrong, my angel?" Bucky asked, pulling you to his lap. Your knees straddling his thick thighs. "I... may have done something."
His stomach lurched. Those were never good words to hear. His mind racing with the thoughts of what had changed; if you'd found someone else, did something with someone else- if maybe he had tested the limits a little too much the last time he'd seen you. Though, he didn't think it'd be that, the pinching rule still stood and you'd always used it when you weren't comfortable in a situation. In and out if the bedroom.
"W-what, baby?" He said, swallowing thickly, trying to keep his breathing steady to hide how nervous he was. Your hands reached up to work at the buttons of your blouse and he puffed out his cheeks as he raised his eyebrows at you. "You're not trying to distract me with your tips as you give me bad news, are you?"
You breathed a laugh and shook your head, heat creeping up your neck. "Not that kind of something, Buck." You assured, pecking a kiss to the tip of his nose.
Bucky sighed in relief and nodded, hands resting on the tops of your thighs as you popped open the last button. Wetting his lips as your fingers worked at the clasp between your breasts.
"Holy shit, bunny." He groaned when he saw the two barbells piercing through your nipples. Slipping his hands up to hold your waist as he nuzzled his face against the valley of your breasts.
Your face burning when he let out a heavy sigh. "Do you not like them?" You mumbled, holding his sturdy shoulders. His left cold against your hand.
Bucky lifted his head to look at you with wide eyes, shaking his head. "I fuckin' love 'em- but, I can't touch." He stuck his bottom lip out, eyes flicking back and forth at the new jewelry before up to your face. "I love you more, though." He said with a cheeky grin.
You smiled at him, lacing your fingers in the back of his hair. "I was a little nervous you wouldn't like them." You said softly, looking to his bare chest. "That would be hypocritical of me. Since we match, now." He chuckled, gripping your backside as he pecked a kiss to your lips.
"Lemme show you just how much I like them." Bucky exhaled, hauling you up with him as he stood. "You have to be careful, though, Buck." You said with a pointed look, holding his shoulders as he walked towards his bedroom door. "I know, I know. Healing process, sensitive, sore- I got it, I can work around them."
"Good, because, I missed you." You sighed before your back met his plush mattress, Bucky's large frame hovering over you. "I missed you, Bunny. We're gonna have s'much fun with these-
"James." You warned, getting a chuckle in response.
"I can look, but I can't touch. I know, baby."
🤍 🤍 🤍 🤍 🤍 🤍
Taglist: @likeahorribledream @cxddlyash @iwannabekilledtwice @bookstan0618 @glxwingrxse @yliumy @pineprincess @makbarnes @cupcakehinch @doasyoudesireandlive @magicwithinnightmares @preferredrealty @andy-is-gay @stucky-my-ship @marvel-3407 @maladaptivexxdaydreaming @i-l-y-3000 @avoxzy @impala1967666 @mollygetssherlockcoffee @supernaturalbaesduh @bucky-hues @suchababie @an-adult-fairy @ju5tyna20 @hallecarey1 @jxlystan @elizabeth228 @secret21121 @strwbrrybucky @busybeingtrash @harrysthiccthighss @everything-burns-down @ynsdiarys @sunnynapp @bucky-harrymybfs @sylleblossomstar @winter-soldier-101 @smokeinherperfume @andreead @amalfoyandariddle @mal-edictions @missusbarnes-rogers-laufeyson @magicaleternal @doll1917 @eireduchess @commonintrest
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she goes 𝙗𝙤𝙤𝙢 | Bucky Barnes
Inspiration: [BOOM (Feat. DPR IAN) — DPR LIVE]
Warning: alcohol, oral sex (f recieving), wall sex (against a bookcase actually but whatever), no protection but yes pills, creampie
4.6k words; Perhaps you were looking way too intensely, but his eyes land on you from across the room, locking you down with his stare and your breath just escapes you. Like he’s physically pulled the air out of your lungs. The way he smirks and tilts his head a fraction to the side doesn’t help. Not at all.
“Behave yourself.” Your father fixes you with a kind but firm look, forcing you up from your phone. He lets out a sigh when you roll your eyes a bit.
“Right, because I’ve always listened to you before. This entire problem of me ‘behaving’ can be solved by just leaving me back home. You know, where I can study for my exam in a week’s time? Final one for the year? Super important? Ring any bells?” You don’t even try to hide the snark in your voice, temper already on its edge from the layers of make-up applied on your face and the slightly too-tight dress over your body. And to drive your frustrations in further, your nails clack against the plastic screen of your phone slightly harder than before, trying to finish the text—more like a paragraph of rant now—to send to your friend. You need to vent.
“Ugh. Fine. But I want ice cream later and I’m not going to talk to anyone other than just greetings.” He smiles at your compromise, promising the night won’t be that bad and it’ll wrap up in three to four hours, like you don’t have better things to do in that time.
He gives you a reprimanding glare when you arrive and head towards the front doors of a fucking mansion, telling you to stop dragging your heels against the cobblestone pathway and wipe the bored look from your face. A slight squeeze on the shoulder is his reply when you give him your most fake-sincerest, sickly-sweet smile packed with as much caustic bitterness you can manage. The only thing you’re looking forward to is getting out of the cold weather and into the hopefully warm building. Also getting shitfaced on expensive alcohol and stuffing complimentary snacks into your stomach.
There’s a mingling or whatever they call it going on in the main room that you’re guided into, all unfamiliar faces talking to each other with flutes of champagne in their hands, exchanging pleasantries. A few turns when you walk in behind your father, kissing him on his cheeks and petting him on his back, hellos and how are you’s thrown around. Then, of course, they ‘notice’ you and half demand an introduction, clammy hands coming to grab yours and you barely resist the urge to slap them away. Just make your smile more strained but still polite. You might despise them but you love your dad. They can probably see the insincerity and how uncomfortable you are but do it anyway, just because they can. So fucking annoying.
A few chats and you’re out, hiding in a corner with a flute nursed in your hand, the other on your phone. It doesn’t deter some from coming up to you but talking to your friend about how you’re one step away from sticking your heel into some asshole’s ear always makes things better.
How is it?
I hate it here
That’s the cost of being part of shady businesses
Ugh I didn’t ask to be born into this
I know, babe
Hang in there
Good news is that when the exam might be pushed back a little bit
Finally something goes my way
Yeah, something about the dean getting caught up in things
It’s not reliable so don’t get too excited
Wow you really popped my bubble like that
The terrible night somehow gets worse
You’re in a room full of rich guys
No one catch your fancy to ogle for the night?
Even for a distraction?
All way out of my age range
Nothing else cheering you up?
Really good champagne
How much do you think I need to drink to pass out and forget this night
Not advisable, babe
Don’t even try
Fuck I hate it here
When you regularly drink so much it’s a chore getting drunk now-
You reap what you sow
You can’t even reply to that because he’s correct, as he is all the time. Instead, you finish off the remaining drops of the champagne and scan the floor for a waiter to pluck another glass off of—or maybe even a whole bottle if your dad’s not looking—but your line of sight freezes on a newcomer, tall and dark and handsome.
He’s young, which is the first surprise. The entire room is filled with men all over fifty in the least, excluding the waiters who can barely manage to look at you. Some are wizened and their hair is flecked with grey that they couldn’t mask with hair dyes, fingers knobbly, stretched out stomachs and backs bent if you look closely. But the new guy. He looks like he can be a model, take on the cover of Vogue on his first photoshoot and probably make it sell out in record time. Back straight, bright blue eyes, five o’clock shadow, soft-looking brown hair coiffed back, widest shoulders you’ve ever seen and that’s including every guard who’s ever worked for your family. The suit fits him perfectly, maybe half a size small at how his shirt buttons strain every time he breathes or laughs, and fuck he looks delicious. A whole meal walking and you’ve never realised how good your sight is before this moment.
Perhaps you’re looking way too intensely, but his eyes land on you from across the room, locking you down with his stare and your breath just escapes you. Like he’s physically pulled the air out of your lungs. The way he smirks and tilts his head a fraction to the side doesn’t help. Not at all.
Trying to play it off as cool as you can, you flag down a waitress and restock on the alcohol, basically chugging it down to cool the rising heat from your stomach and chest. Maybe the alcohol is the one causing it, but if you keep drinking then you’ll get a wicked hangover, hate yourself in the morning, and move on. Hopefully not even remember that you got caught sneaking glances—read: staring—at the Hot Guy. The burning doesn’t stop so you turn back to Jamie.
I’m so fucking embarassed
Well that’s not the greatest opener
I’m sure everything is fine
Wait did you throw up on someone’s shoes
Because if so, yeah, you’re fucked
I’m not drunk yet
I sure hope I will be by the end of this though
Not supporting alcoholism
What’s wrong then
This new guy came in
Built like a god
I think he’s like 100% muscle
Did you punch him?
My bad, go on
I was checking him out and he caught me
That’s not that bad
He SMIRKED at me
Then he smirked
Like he knew I was going to check him out
Well you did, didn’t you?
Shut up don’t remind me
Fuck when can my dad drag my corpse away from this massive fucking house
Because you’re not dying here
Where is he now?
You peek up from the screen with the greatest timing in the world, just in time to see him walk up to you with a drink in one hand and the other tucked into his pocket. Half swaggering his way up to you. On any other guy it would look lame and tacky but he somehow makes it cocky and natural and hot as fuck, and it should be illegal how that makes you react—thighs clenching together imperceptively under the dress, warmth radiating in your lower stomach and the tell-tale signs of your sex becoming wet. But can you honestly not react this way when he looks like that?
Oh fuck he’s coming towards me
Welp I’m going to die from embarrassment
See you in the afterlife
I’ll save a seat for you
Kind of don’t want it
Hey, either you get shitfaced or you get fucked by the stranger
You’d like any of the endings
You’re so smart
Jamie the next Einstein
You would have noticed this by now if you were clear headed
Drink water and don’t have irresponsible sex
Still on the pills
Have fun getting dick
Will be here for updates and comfort if it fails tragically
Your message delivers and the phone clicks off just in time as Hot Guy sits down beside you, twirling the glass in his hand. You pretend to notice him—thank god or anything up there that you’re good at acting when it matters—and give him a polite smile, one that he reciprocates.
“James. Everyone calls me Bucky, though. You?”
“[Name]. Bucky?” He shrugs, taking a sip from his glass. There’s something boyish about him, especially now you can pin a name to his face and even more so because Bucky is such an odd nickname, so juvenile for a person who looks like he can take on every single person in the room without breaking a sweat. Might even be able to do it with one arm behind his back, just yawning his way through knocking down everyone.
“You don’t look like you like it here.” He leans in, voice low and dragging itself along the skin of your arm, leaving a trail of goosebumps. This guy is seriously ticking all the sex fantasy boxes with such ease.
Second surprise is how good he smells. It’s half suffocating in the lounge, not only because of how much you don’t want to be here but also because of everyone’s heavy and overused cologne mixing together, creating a bomb of confusing smells which is not at all pleasant. His, on the other hand, is light, somehow homey and recognisable, carving its way up your nose and taking residence in your memory. It smells like him, probably because he’s the one wearing it but the meaning is more along the lines of ‘only he is suitable for this scent, it’s like it was concocted just for his use’. You barely pull your head out from admiring his scent of all things in time to respond within an acceptable amount of time.
“It’s stuffy here. Too many people in such a small room.” He chuckles and nods, taking another drink. The clanking of ice provides you with something to ground your mind here and not make a complete idiot out of yourself. “Come on, then. We have a bit of time until the meeting. How does sneaking out of here sound like?” A mischievous grin blooms on your face and that’s enough of an answer for him. Bucky finishes his drink off and gets onto his feet, hand reaching out to pull you up. He makes sure you’re steady on your feet but doesn’t pull back, thumb caressing over the back of your hand. Before you can ask him what’s wrong, he kisses your knuckle, his lips barely touching, and fuck that should be cringy and overused and ancient but your traitorous heart lurches and pounds faster, louder at the act. And from the way he grins at you, mouth still so close to your skin so that you feel every exhale, he can hear it over the chatters.
He drags you to a staircase away from the room, up against the walls to hide in the shadows and places a finger against his lips to tell you to shush, most likely due to your heels clacking against the wooden floor. To be fair, you’re not the one who chose this one. It might be the alcohol talking—it most definitely is—but this situation hilarious; a two grown adults sneaking around in the dark corners of the house, head poking out to see if there’s anyone nearby and trying to smother each other’s giggles with sharp hisses of shhhh but failing miserably. Maybe he’s kind of tipsy as well.
He stops in front of a thick and intricately designed door, clicking the lock open as you drag your fingers into the grooves and admire them. Inside is a study room looking place, two walls lined from floor to ceiling with packed bookshelves and a wooden desk right in front of the window. The room is drenched in a warm golden hue from the lights and it’s like you’ve been taken to another place entirely, away from the politics of the criminal world and into a safe room that’s been adored for years. Your mouth parts as you walk around the room, fingers trailing along the book spines and muttering their names under your breath. You only notice Bucky’s still here when you catch sight of him in your peripherals. He seems to be enjoying the view.
“Have to say the house is nice. Mahogany furniture, good lighting. Rugs are a bit weird though.”
“I’ll make sure to pass the message along to the boss.” Boss. Of course he’s part of the mafia, he’s wearing a suit that looks like it goes above a couple thousand dollars easily, a shiny gold watch on his wrist and tattoos peeking out from underneath his shirt collar. (Kinda hot— fuck.) What else could he be? The alcohol hasn’t made you drunk yet but it made you a couple of degrees slower than you should be. Jamie was right when he said you shouldn’t drink too much. A groan escapes you before you even notice and one of his brows—perfectly styled, how is this man real—rises up at the noise. “Something wrong?”
“Not wrong,” you reply, hopping onto the desk and letting your legs dangle, palms flat against the surface. Very sturdy desk, the horny part of your mind chimes in. You beat it back with a stick and breathe in deeply, trying to calm yourself. He leans onto one of the bookshelves opposite of you, thick arms crossed across his chest and basically radiating sex vibes. “Don’t really like associating myself with you guys.”
“Us guys?” There’s a tinge of incredulity in his voice, a scoff like he can’t believe you would reduce him to such a label. You shrug in response, swinging your legs and smoothing out the dress. “Don’t like the business?”
“Not really, you guys aren’t the nicest bunch.”
“I’m not nice?” The voice is way too close and you snap your head up to come face to face with him—how the fuck did he get over here without a sound—with his palms splayed out on either side of you, head tilted to the side like before. He’s pouting, something that shouldn’t look that good on an adult, much less him, looking up at you with those perfect blue eyes of his and you sober up instantly, mind going into hyperdrive at what’s about to come. If you’re going to fuck this man, you’re going to do it with a clear mind, remember every bit of it. Instant metabolism of alcohol is surely achievable, right?
“Um, not really. No offence.” He drags his lips up along your jawline, nibbling on your earlobe and your heart spikes without a hesitation, warmth blooming everywhere. Okay, now you’re definitely wet.
“How about we forget that then? I’ll just be James tonight, just little ol’ me. Can you associate with me then?” He whispers into your ear, hand sliding onto your thighs and caressing the skin underneath the dress. His voice somehow gets deeper, half-crooning with promises of everything you want. A voice in the back of your head warns you of something that you can’t hear because his eyes are enchanting, seeing through you and you’ve made plenty of bad choices in the past but this really doesn’t look like it’s going to be one of those. Even looks like it’s going to be one of the best ones you ever make.
“Depends on how well you fuck me, doesn’t it?” You whisper back and he immediately latches his lips onto yours, gripping you by the back of your neck with a gentle firmness and god it feels nice. Tongue hot and thick and trying to pull your consciousness away, hand sliding up underneath the dress to come rest on your hips, stroking the jutted-out bone of your pelvis. He disappears, the clinking of his belt buckle replacing the sound of your moans.
“Ah. Stop right there.” You place one foot onto his chest, pushing him back and lower to the ground. On his knees, right between your legs, fingers gripped tightly around your ankles and basically digging into your bones, leaving their imprint there. Something flickers in his eyes, something primal and barely restrained. “Be a good boy for me?”
He lets out a groan, head leaning back with his eyes fluttering shut. Then he’s right back, leaving bruises on your thighs and trailing up to your sex, mouthing against the soaked spot on your panties, nudging your clit through the fabric with his nose.
“Don’t rip it.” You warn, because you can see the thought running through his mind, see the twitch in his finger as they inched closer to the band. He scrunches his nose in response, like a goddamned child, then pulls away just long enough to tug the offending lingerie off, throwing it over his shoulder and reattaches his lips. His tongue delves into your folds, tasting the sweet saltiness and lathering your walls with his spit even though it’s pointless because you’re soaked, juice spilling out more than ever before but he keeps at it, licking and drinking you up like he’s a man starved and you’re the finest ambrosia.
He moves up to your clit, chin glimmering in the light, sucking the nub and making you shriek at how good he is, how effortlessly he’s pulling the control and strength from your grasp. The light dims momentarily and your heart feels about two sizes too big for your chest, pulsing against the fat on your chest and trying to break out of its cage. Your hand slips off the edge of the desk, sending your upper body down back onto the hard surface, the pain forgotten immediately because fuck, you’ve never had a better head than this.
You pull up the end of the dress up to your hips with trembling fingers, locking your legs around his back. He glances up at you, still nursing the sensitive bundle of nerves, pulling strings of curses and moans. He taps on the side of your knee, calling your attention through the deliriousness. When you meet his stare, the edges of his eyes crinkle with a wolfish grin as he thrusts two fingers in, deliciously thick and stretching you out way too much.
“Fuckin’ asshole, ah—” Your hands find purchase in his hair, messing up the coiff as you grind against his fingers, forcing them to go deeper, to chase the high that’s right in front of you.
“You’re going to be glad I’m doing this later, darlin’. Tryna help you here.” He twists and coils his fingers, mapping out your insides—the soft and spongy parts, the spots that make you keen and cry out—knowing where to press and torture like he’s done this a thousand times before. Your back arches with a gasp and all of a sudden your legs lock around his head, trembling at the rush of euphoria and the heat of a thousand suns burning below your skin. It’s like your mind is thrown up into the stratosphere then slammed back into the ground in a flash, knocking you half unconscious in the best way possible.
There’s not a wisp of energy left anywhere in your body when you subside from your climax, thighs left on his shoulders and head placed on the table. The most you can do is try to keep your eyes open and hope your body cools down.
“'I'm not done with you yet.” A startled yelp rips out of you as he heaves you up into his arms, gripping the swell of your ass and slamming you against the bookshelf, mouth back on yours. It’s tangy and weird and you never did this before—kiss someone after they’ve eaten you out so thoroughly and so well—but holy shit, if he doesn’t make it hot. His cock slides in but snags every centimetre and he was right. You’re so glad he stretched you out first otherwise you would have been crying and pushing him away every time he tried to thrust in. It still burns and you’re still raw from the orgasm just a minute ago, but it’s just enough for you to withstand the initial pain and sink into the following pleasure.
Whimpers and begs of please, please move are drowned out by his deep growl, one of his hands coming to slam onto the frame next to your head, gripping it so hard you swear you hear the wood cracking under his palm. The thought of him using that on you—wrapping his hand around your neck and squeezing, cutting the blood and oxygen off until you teeter on the edge—makes your pussy tighten around him, gasps heaving out. He lets an appreciative but strained chuckle.
You’re a mess. Straps of your dress halfway down your arms, the back of it stained with your slick, hair ruined beyond recognition and even without looking at a mirror, you can tell that the rose pink lipstick forced onto you is smudged all over. Some of it even got on him; you can see the subtle tinge if you concentrate whenever he detaches himself from you to take in gulps of air. But he’s still wearing his suit, the tie and the jacket and all, probably sweating under there because you can see beads of it trailing down his temple, and it’s unfair. You’re wrecked and dishevelled but he could walk right out after zipping himself up and no one would know he was fucking your brains out.
Vindictiveness gets the better of you. Being on unequal footings is never something you liked or tolerated, and just because he’s the best lay you’ll ever have doesn’t mean he gets a free pass. It’s tricky, what with your fingers being all trembly and your body being thrown off-balance with every snap of his waist, but you make do and untangle the knot of his tie, chucking it wherever and ripping his shirt, making the buttons fall with small clinks, barely perceptible beyond the rhythmic thudding of your body against the bookshelf.
Oh, you were right. He’s just pure muscle, his biceps the size of your thighs and flexing every time he lifts you up to drop you back down, pecs and sides and arms decorated with black ink and you have no idea why it’s so hot. Just scraping your nails against the design makes your world spin and oh shit, is this a new kink? Because you can definitely get behind that right now with him scrambling your insides up. His mouth skims across your collarbone, the junction from your neck to your shoulder, leaving blossoms of heat from the suckled skin. You bite marks onto unmarred sections of his skin, making it splotchy with red all over. That is, until he drives so deep that you lose control of your body.
“Ah! Mh, fuck— so good, you’re so good, James. Harder, pretty please—”
Maybe you’re too loud, maybe your voice is travelling out of the cracks in the door and alerting the people downstairs—your dad, his partners, their wives, poor teenagers who are trying to work part-time—of how well Bucky is screwing you into oblivion, but you can’t hear it over the lewd squelching of your fluids every time he snaps his hips up and connects the head of his cock against that perfect patch of sensitive skin to turn your vision black and white. The cries and writhing tell him exactly where he found.
“God, you’re so fucking tight, you’re choking me, doll.” Hands firmly on your thighs, he rams himself to that spot over and over, like it’s his sole reason for living, watching your eyes roll back, tongue sticking out, limbs twitching at the assault of ecstasy. There’s nothing in your brain anymore, no comprehensible thoughts or anything minutely similar, just his name, just James spilling off of your lips as if it’s a spell that’s going to push you off the precipice.
“‘m close, so close— cum in me, on the pill—” Those three words, sighed out urgently like you crave it, crave him, makes him snap and bury himself in you to the absolute hilt, your pelvis over his and you flex around him, leaning into the climax and milking him dry, sucking him in. He’s gone, squirting ropes of his seed deep inside, holding you there and forcing you to feel how much you’re getting filled up, how full he can make you.
“Oh god, you’re so fucking hot baby, so perfect.” He groans into your neck, bumping his nose into your jaw and placing butterfly kisses there. Barely touching you but even that feels like too much right now.
It’s like that for a while; you’re stuck in his arms, trembling and fluttering against him, attempting to get your breath back.
He slips out eventually and globs of cum follow, sliding out and down along the insides of your thighs. He watches the milky liquid travel against the soft cushiness of your thighs and groans, knocking his forehead to yours, sliding his tongue into your mouth. From the pressure of his hands against your waist, you can guess he’s getting ready to go again. As much as you would love for a round two or round three or whatever, the overstimulation is making your sight fuzzy and one more of this sex might put you out of commission for good. He whines—fucking whines—when you push him back, pouting and all, but tucks himself back into his pants. Then looks at the floor, at the white buttons strewn all over the place, and sends a glare that he doesn’t mean your way. You can only shrug with your tongue stuck out.
“Oops. Find it in your heart to forgive me?” He shakes his head with a chuckle, helping you clean yourself up, combing your hair into a semi-presentable state. Everything about you screams I just had sex when you check your appearance on your phone, but it’ll have to do. Hopefully no one will pay attention to you when you step out, occupied in their meeting or something.
“Wait, don’t you have to be part of that meeting? I think it started already.” It’s quiet outside, the voices all gone and so is the laughter. Not even glasses clinking together.
“Nah, darlin’. It doesn’t start unless I’m there. And I think they can wait just a bit more.” Bucky’s brushing his hair back when you look over at him, opening the door, his body uncovered without a care in the world. “C’mon, doll. Let’s get you home. Need you safe if I’m ever going to see you again.” His hand is reaching out for you.
He’s still dripping out from your core, the trails hidden underneath the dress. This entire thing was in serious violation of your no fucking mafia dudes rule, the one you’ve had ever since you turned legal, the one promise that you haven’t ever broken.
But he’s right there, he’s right there, hands open with palm up, one brow quirked up to ask are you coming?, fluffy and unkempt hair with puffed out lips because you were being brutal. He’s cute and hot and might just be worth making an exception. Just once. Just for him.
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Galas, New Dates and Exes (Part. 4)
Warning: fluff and a tiiiiinyyy bit of smut (oopssss).
Summary: Bucky and (Y/N) broke up and they see each other for the first time at one of Tony's parties. The only problem is, she has a new date.
Word Count: 4k
Author's Note: This is a looonggg oneeee. I know I said I was going to reveal what happened between them buuuutt I decided not to. Hope you guys like this part! Please comment if you would like more parts and what you would want to see happen between the two.
Pt. 1 Pt. 2 Pt.3
It has been a couple of weeks since the New Year’s Party and (y/n) finally could go back to work. What at first seemed like a couple of weeks of vacations turned into forced leave by Tony Stark so, coming back into the field gave (y/n) something to keep her mind busy. She took a deep breath before entering the conference room where she saw that Natasha, Steve and Sam were already there.
“(Y/n).” Steve said, clearing his throat, not wanting her to know they were just talking about her. “Glad to have you back.”
“I’m glad to be back Cap. And-“ (y/n) took a pause and looked around the room. “I just want everyone to know that I don’t want any special treatment. I know Bucky was also assigned this mission, we’re both adults and can handle this situation as professionals. I don’t want our past to affect our jobs.”
Steve gave her a warm smile. “Please take a seat, we’ll be starting the brief in a couple of minutes.”
(Y/n) got lost in meaningless conversation with Natasha, soon after Wanda arrived and joined in. A few minutes later, Bucky arrived shocking everybody with his perfectly neat hair and serene appearance.
“Sorry for being late.” Was all he mumbled before taking a seat, not looking up at anyone.
The mission consisted of all of them traveling to some unknown part of the world. It was a pretty easy mission: go, get information, and get out without anyone noticing. They were set to leave the next day at dawn. As the meeting came to a close, everyone started leaving the room and so did (y/n). But before she could get to the doors, Nat intercepted her. Something seemed off.
“(Y/n) I want you to know I am so sorry. Truly. I never meant for any of this to happen, it was just that I was stupid and had way too much to drink and I just- I really messed up.” Natasha said, tears at the brink of her eyes. (Y/n) didn’t know what was happening, but as she turned around to see Sam and Steve with their heads in their hands, she started to understand.
“You told them?” She asked the redhead, much to her dismay she nodded. “Fuck.” Was all she could say, she couldn’t blame her friend and by the look on her face it was obviously not on purpose. The only thing that was left was to organize her ideas and face the two men.
“(Y/n). I need to know this isn’t going to change anything with the mission.” Steve started. “I’ve come to terms with the fact that Bucky doesn’t know, but I need my team to be ready for this.”
“Steve, I’m a professional spy, I can handle this.” (Y/n) said sternly.
“I also want you to know that I think he should know. He was going to be a father and the right thing to do is to tell him.” Steve told (y/n) looking into her eyes, seeing the fire building up.
“Steve,” (Y/n) said trying to calm herself. “First, I want to tell you how much I appreciate how worried you are about Bucky, I really do. But frankly, this is none of your concern. You may be the captain here, but you have no right telling me what I should or shouldn’t do in my personal life. Second of all, I have been a trained spy since I was twelve and have been working with you for the past eight years. You know me and because of that, you know that everything I’m doing has a reasoning behind it. So, I ask you to never question if what I’m doing is correct or not. Not in my personal life or in my professional work. I’ll get the fucking job done.”
With that said, and everyone in the room left speechless, (y/n) left the compound. She grabbed her car and left, not wanting to deal with anything that was happening. Before she noticed, she was driving back to her apartment in the city. It used to be her permanent residence but, it had too many memories. She decided to park her car a couple of blocks away from her building and walk back home, it was mostly her decision but also the parking situation in New York was vile. She felt the cold breeze on her cheeks and sloshing of somewhat melted snow on her boots, making her remember those first nights when Bucky and she were still hiding their relationship from everyone. Bucky would practically beg her to stay at his apartment.
“C’mon (y/n) let’s just go back to my place, there’s no need for you to stay here all alone.” Bucky said, wanting to spend more time with her.
“Buck, you know Steve could pop in at any moment! He’s got some weird attachment with you.” (Y/n) laughed and looked up at him. They had been going out for a couple of months, but this was their fifth official date, and they were both feeling like they were floating on clouds. “You just want me to go back to Brooklyn, so you have an excuse to show off your part of town.”
“I want you to go back with me to Brooklyn to spend more time together.” He said looking back at her with an amazing smile.
“You know that smile could melt any girl’s panties off.” (Y/n) laughed shaking her head.
“The real question is, do they melt yours?” He whispered in her ear.
She laughed even more and as they got to her building, she pulled on his leather jacket to push him closer to her. Planting a kiss on his lips, the only thing she said was “Come upstairs and we can find out.”
As their relationship grew, (Y/n) decided to get an apartment in Brooklyn. She had always said it was because her old landlord was always hiking up her rent and that she got a bad feeling about the guy. The truth was, she was spending most of her time in Brooklyn anyways it was just the right move. Plus, getting to spend Sunday mornings strolling through the farmers market with Bucky was one of her favorite things to do.
Before she knew it, (Y/n) was at her apartment door. She heard something coming from inside and with one swift move she entered, gun pointing at whatever the sound was. She silently went through each room and finally entered the bedroom. She let out a sigh and a small laugh as she saw the white cat purring on her bed.
“Alpine, you scared the shit out of me.” The cat only meowed back, she picked the cat up and sat back on the bed. “What are you doing here?”
It was as if the tiny furball understood her and leaped off the bed, walking casually to the kitchen and sitting in front of her food bowl. (Y/n) shook her head and looked through her cupboards to find the feline’s food. Alpine happily ate her meal while (Y/n) rummaged through the insane amounts of expired food.
(Y/n) thought her apartment would feel different and somewhat strange, but it looked intact. Like time had been paused and everything was as it should be. (Y/n) picked up her suits and some extra things she would be needing for the mission before grabbing the cat and heading out. (Y/n) thought of herself as more of a dog person, but as soon as she saw Bucky come in with the white cat she fell in love.
Bucky’s apartment was just a few blocks away but that walk seemed like a mission in and of itself. ‘Go to the building, get the spare key from inside the nearest air vent, enter the apartment, get water and food, leave the cat.’ She kept repeating this in her mind over and over. (Y/n) found the strength to go into the apartment and sighed as she saw the state it was in.
Bucky’s small apartment looked like a scene straight out of a horror movie. Sheets on the floor, half empty takeout containers everywhere and a distinct smell of death. As soon as she started putting water in Alpine’s bowl, (y/n) heard the sound of heavy boots coming to a halt at the apartment door.
“Shit.” She whispered, hiding behind the counter.
From outside of the apartment, Bucky saw the shadows from underneath the door before hearing an intruder inside his home. He silently left the brown paper bag filled with groceries on the floor and took out his knives. Slowly turning the handle and entering his apartment. He saw Alpine happily drinking water, she looked back at her owner and meowed. Moving from where she was sitting and coming behind the counter. Meowing again.
Before Bucky could do anything, he saw (y/n) spring up with her hands holding a gun directly towards him.
“Drop the knife Buck.” She warned.
“Drop the gun Doll.” He replied before taking a step towards her. “You’re really pointing a gun at me in my own apartment?”
She cracked a smile and slowly put the gun on the counter, putting her hands up in surrender. Bucky smiled too and put the knife back in his pocket.
“What are you doing here?” He asked before going back outside for the groceries.
“Alpine decided to pay me a visit, she scared the living hell out of me. I thought someone had broken into my apartment.” (Y/n) said. “On that note, I’m sorry for breaking in. I just thought it would be better if I brought her back here.”
Bucky smiled in response and started to put the groceries in the refrigerator. “Want a beer?”
“You know we shouldn’t be drinking before a mission.” (Y/n) shook her head, smile still plastered on. “Plus, you know I hate beer.”
“I know, just wanted to tease you a bit.”
“Buck, we need to do something about your apartment. This whole situation” she said, motioning the whole scene. “is not healthy.”
Bucky let out a loud laugh and turned to her. “We’re not dating anymore, you can’t complain about the state of my apartment. This isn’t your jurisdiction anymore doll.”
His laughter died down as soon as he saw (y/n)’s expression. “Sorry.” He coughed. “Too soon to make jokes about us breaking up?”
(Y/n) let out a nervous laugh and started to feel the nervousness leave her body.
“I know last time we saw each other was pretty rough but, I-I’ve been seeing a therapist and-“ Bucky was interrupted by another shocked expression coming from his ex.
“You mean macho man, James “Bucky” Buchanan Barnes, is seeing a therapist?” She smiled and added. “I’m messing with you, I’m really glad you’re seeing someone.”
“I’m not seeing someone, I just decided that sulking around was getting me nowhere and messing with the old brain.” Bucky chuckled. “You know I realized that, when we broke it off. I didn’t just lose a relationship, I also lost my best friend.”
(Y/n) looked down at her feet, ashamed.
“And you know, we’ll be working together so I just wanted to become civil.” Bucky said, trying not to show how petrified he was but, as he saw (y/n) smile everything else seemed to disappear.
“I want us to be civil too Buck.” She spoke.
“So, as my olive branch to you, I wanted to say that Nicholas looks like a nice guy. I’m sorry for how I treated him, and I hope everything works out with you guys.” He took a deep breath before saying his last part, something that he had been practicing with Dr. Raynor. “I am no longer the Winter Soldier. I am James Bucky Barnes and you’re part of my efforts to make amends.”
“That last part is usually, um, directed to other people.” He laughed.
“I think the olive branch is supposed to be directed to Nicholas.” She said smiling back at him. This is the Bucky she remembered, the one she fell in love with. Goofy and kind. “About Nicholas, we um- nothing ever really happened.”
“What do you mean? What did he do to you.” Bucky got defensive.
“No, nothing. He was really kind but, things just didn’t work out. Our time schedules didn’t really mix and at the end of the day we just decided not to go through with it.” She explained, looking through his refrigerator and grabbing a water bottle.
Bucky had to admit to himself that he was glad nothing ever happened between the two of them. “No one is ever going to be good enough for you. You’re amazing (y/n). And I’m saying that as a friend.”
“Well, as a friend, I’ll say thank you and that no one will ever be good enough to be with you either Buck.” She smiled back. “You’re incredible, even if you’re an old man who doesn’t know how to work a TV.”
Bucky feigned hurt. “Speaking of TV, I wanted to know if you know. Obviously as friends, we could maybe. I mean only if you want to and have nothing better to do. Um- if you wanted to stay over and maybe watch a movie or something.” He grabbed the back of his neck as he replied, feeling the heat rush to his cheeks.
“Just like the old days?” (Y/n) asked in a quiet voice.
After her answer he was filled with regret. “Yeah, it was a dumb idea. I wouldn’t want- you know,” He tried to look around for an excuse, or basically anything to get himself out of the situation. “I wouldn’t want Alpine to get confused and maybe think that we were getting back together- yeah just forget I said anything.”
“It’s fine,” She laughed. “I would actually really like to stay.”
“Really?” He asked surprised.
“You know, you were my best friend too. I need someone to watch scary movies with.” She replied, taking off her jacket and sitting down on the couch.
“What? You can’t sleep after watching a scary movie without having a gun underneath your pillow?”
“You know that was only one time!”
(Y/n) and Bucky spent the rest of the night talking over the movie that had been put on the screen. Reminiscing the time when they spent two weeks off in Italy, new training moves and other random gossip. One topic leading to the next.
“So, Rebecca’s boyfriend told her he didn’t have time to go out to brunch but then Isla saw him playing basketball?” Bucky asked, filling his mouth with another sushi roll and (y/n) shook her head.
“No, Isla is Rebecca’s ex-girlfriend. It was Isis who saw Rebecca’s boyfriend at the court. You know the one on Houston street?” She explained, taking a sip of the green tea that had been “accidentally” delivered to them. Bucky insisted the delivery kid gave (y/n) someone else’s tea, her beauty making the kid’s head spin. He assured her that the restaurant he always ordered from, never gave out anything for free.
“My question is, why do you know all of this gossip from the medical department?” Bucky laughed and (y/n) just replied with a shrug.
As the credits rolled on the screen, (y/n) noticed the time. “Wow, I hadn’t even looked at the clock, it’s already 12:30. It’s really late, I’ve got to be up by 5!”
(Y/n) stood up and slowly took her jacket in her hands, hoping Bucky would ask her to stay over. Bucky nodded and gulped down his food, heading towards the door to show (y/n) out even though she knew the apartment like the back of her hand. As she pets Alpine, (Y/n) looked back at Bucky. ““Hey Buck, you know to celebrate our newly rekindled friendship I wanted to ask a favor.”
Bucky furrowed his brows and quickly nodded. “Yes, whatever you want I’ll do.”
“I wanted to know if I can stay here tonight.” She asked quietly. “I don’t know what it is but, being here with you is easier to deal with than being back at my apartment. I kind of feel like, I don’t know- I just can’t deal with that right now not before a mission. Not before my first mission back I just-.”
“You know you can always stay here doll.” Bucky interrupted her, he saw she was getting frustrated, he came up to her and kissed her forehead. “I know what you mean.”
(Y/n) softly smiled and put her jacket down again.
“You still remember where my t-shirts are?” Bucky smiled, getting the kettle out to make some tea.
“Yes, I remember. Did you throw out my things or do I still have a spare suit and underwear here?” She teased back.
Bucky immediately blushed and nodded. “Yeah, everything is still there. Third drawer on the left side.”
(Y/n) hummed and went into the bedroom. It too was exactly like she remembered. She quickly got changed into one of Bucky’s old shirts and went back to the kitchen, a cup of tea already waiting for her.
“You can sleep on the bed, I’ll sleep out here.” Bucky told her, not looking up.
“Don’t be ridiculous Buck! This is your house, I can’t just kick you out of your room.”
“Doll, you know I don’t like that bed. I haven’t even slept in it since, well, since the last time you slept over.” He casually said.
(Y/n) widened her eyes. “You mean you haven’t slept in your bed in more than six months? You basically haven’t had a good night’s sleep in half a year?”
The former assassin shook his head and looked up with a smile. “You know, since you asked me for a favor. Can I ask you for one?”
“Can we sleep together? I me-I mean can we sleep tonight, together tonight?” Bucky was trying to find the right words but everything he said came out wrong. “Not like that. I’m not begging to get laid. I’m just saying actually sleep in the same bed.”
(Y/n) let out a loud laugh. “Handsome, I know you don’t need to beg to get laid.”
Bucky turned a crimson shade of red in part because of her nickname for him and in part because of what she said. “I haven’t- since us. You know I haven’t, done that.”
“Me neither.” (Y/n) replied. She knew this whole conversation was wrong, they shouldn’t be talking about this. ‘Or should they? Friends talk about these kinds of things, right?’ She asked herself. She didn’t want to admit it but, she was glad no other woman had come back to his apartment.
Bucky broke (y/n) out of her trance with a cough. “I’m gonna go get changed.” She just nodded.
After a while the ex-couple found themselves in bed together. As (y/n) moved, the bed creaked.
“You haven’t changed your headboard?” She said shaking her head.
“It’s still good.” Bucky said tapping the wooden frame, like clockwork the old wood creaked again making a noise straight out of a horror scene. “I mean it was fine before you broke it.”
“Are you seriously trying to blame me for that?!” She laughed as she playfully slapped his chest, noticing the muscles. Bucky maybe hadn’t slept more than three hours since they broke up, but he had been going to the gym. And (Y/n) noticed.
“I mean it was technically you who broke it.” Bucky smiled back at her, looking down at her hand that was moving up and down his exposed chest. “Like what you see?”
Thank god for the dimmed lights, if it weren’t for them Bucky would have been able to see how hard (y/n) was blushing. She turned around so that her back was facing him. “I only broke it because you flung me into the bed!” She defended, remembering that night.
“I thought you liked it rough?” Bucky whispered into her ear, grabbing her hips, and pulling her closer to him.
“I do, but I think that night was-“ (Y/n) was trying to find the right words to describe that night. ‘That night was when you got me pregnant’ didn’t really roll off the tongue.
“That night was amazing, and you can’t deny it. You know we’ve got amazing chemistry in the sac doll.” He cut her off, tracing one finger from her shoulder to her knee.
“What makes you think I can’t deny it?” She questioned, trying hard to disguise her actual emotions. With one swift move, Bucky was pinning her down on the bed. Lips only an inch away. With one forearm propping his whole body up, his vibranium arm started tracing circles on her hipbone. Inching closer to where she desired the most.
“Tell me to stop.” He ordered. “Tell me to stop and I’ll do it.”
(Y/n)’s brain was having an internal battle. She knew this wasn’t how the night was supposed to go but she couldn’t get herself to do the right thing. So, next thing she knew her mouth started moving. “Please don’t stop.”
The next day, Bucky and (Y/n) had agreed that the best thing to do was to enter the compound separately. Bucky had gone directly to the hangar where he saw Steve and Sam waiting.
“What’s going on, Bucky you’re scaring me.” Sam said, taking a step back looking at the soldier from head to toes. “You’re doing that weird thing with your face and you’re doing your happy walk.”
“It’s called a smile.” Bucky replied, ignoring the falcon.
“Why are you smiling?” He questioned.
“Do I need a reason to be smiling?” Bucky said.
“Yeah, you do, when you’re Bucky! You never smile, and if you do it it’s not at seven in the morning!” Sam said confused.
“Sam, let the man breathe.” Steve said, not looking up from the mission brief.
Bucky decided to change the subject. “Do you guys have an extra knife that I can borrow?”
“Okay. Man, now I know something’s going on! You don’t have your knife?!”
“Sam, seriously it’s 7:10 am. We need to get going, stop making a big deal out of everything! And Bucky, I know I said this mission was easy but really, you don’t bring your knives?” Steve said, shaking his head. “I have an extra one in my bag, you can get it when we’re on the plane.”
As Steve left to get on the plane, Sam turned to Bucky. “You may be able to fool that guy, but not me. You got laid last night, didn’t you?”
Bucky quickly shook his head with widened eyes and Sam let out a loud laugh. “Me and Redwing, we see everything.”
A few minutes later, Natasha, Wanda and (Y/n) arrived. As they were all walking towards the plane the ladies were falling behind. With Sam and Bucky following in front of them.
“C’mon (Y/n) are you gonna tell us?” Wanda said laughing a bit.
“You guys stop, I already said I don’t know what you’re talking about.” (Y/n) said as she kept on walking.
“You think we don’t know? Your hair is matted, and your smile is extending from ear to ear stop lying! We can almost smell the sex from all the way over here.” Wanda said, trying to get the spy to crack.
“Plus, we found an extra knife in your bag that isn’t yours!” Natasha said.
With that last comment, Sam stopped dead in his tracks and looked up at Bucky. As he saw his pleading eyes, Sam’s mouth fell open.
“Hey, um, (Y/n).” Bucky said, dripping with nervousness. “Sam wanted to ask you something. I think it’s gonna take a while, you ladies can get on the plane.”
Wanda and Natasha furrowed their eyebrows but kept on walking towards the plane as (Y/n) was left behind.
“You, you two. You and you, last night.” Sam kept mumbling over and over again.
Bucky and (Y/n) looked at each other in shock and all was left was to mutter a simple: “Fuck.”
@ mxrvelinhrt @baby-banana @stucky-my-ship toothhurtyam @bluemoon-icecream @seybox @supraveng @jasmine19346 @what-a-beautiful-mess-i-made @maladaptivexxdaydreaming @confuscita @eviesaurusrex @girlfriday007 @starryeyeseunbyul @thevampire97 @sadisticfries @440mxs-wife @rslizj
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The Past Can Break You - 10
Pairing: Bucky x Reader
Summary: You and Bucky have been dating for aa few years. As far as you’re concerned he is the one. But what happens when a blast from the actual past shows up?
A/N: Ive seen a lot stories of Bucky getting his first love from the 40′s back. And I’ve always wondered... what would happen if he was dating someone already? Reader is from this time. Not proofread.
You look directly at Bucky, “Oh baby, I was wondering if the Winter Soldier would like to play,” you say shaking the red book with the black star.
Bucky froze in fear. His heart is completely broken. You, his love, the woman he would kill for, is wanting to turn him into the monster.
Bucky and you stare at each other for a few moments, having a silent conversation. He finally breaks eye contact with you when your smirk widens. He looks down at Dot, who is trembling on the ground beside him.
“Dot, you need to stay back. I... I can’t promise that I won’t hurt you if she does this,” he says.
Dot looks up at Bucky terrified, “Why would you hurt me? What is that book Jamie?” she cries.
You open the book and turn through the pages, looking for the one you need.
“Y/N what the fuck is wrong with you? This is not part of the plan!” Nat shouts hoping to get through to you.
“Nat. I know you wanted to help, but obvious Jamie over there picked who he wants. I need to make them both suffer for hurting me,” you say.
“This isn’t the way to go about it. You know who those words bring out. You will never forgive yourself for hurting the man you love,” Nat pleads.
You laugh, “Nat, please.”
You look back at Bucky who is holding Dot’s arms begging her to leave. “She isn’t going anywhere!” you yell.
You look down at the Russian words before and slowly start to read off the list, one by one. Each time you read a word, you look at Bucky, who stays tensely still. After a few words you look at Nat, who looks at you with furrowed brows. It makes you smirk knowing that she is starting to catch on.
You look back over at Bucky and say the remaining words and see him straighten up, staring at you with an intensity you can feel go right through you. You look at him and cock your head to the side, and then look at Dot, who is frozen watching everything go on.
“You see Dot. Bucky boy was used and abused by these people called HYDRA. They brainwashed him and had him kill on their whim by using trigger words,” you say with a smile as you see her pale. “Now that he has been triggered, he only listens to me and will do what I say.”
Dot starts to cry and tremble, “Please. Please don’t let him hurt me,” she cries.
You coo in fake sympathy and then look at Bucky, “Soldat?” you call, and then motion for him to come and stand beside you. He walks over silently and stands by your side facing your friends. You whisper something in Bucky’s ear and then step back and he walks toward Dot.
“No one move or I will make sure you all regret it in more ways than one!” you shout to your team who stares at you and then watching Bucky walk toward a hysterical Dot.
“Jamie, please! It’s me! It’s your Dot. You love me! Baby please!” she pleads through her tears.
Bucky grabs her arm and drags her toward you before depositing her in front of you. You laugh at how pathetic she looks and squat in front of her, “Now, why don’t you tell everyone how you fucked my boyfriend. Tell them how you are nothing but a lying manipulative whore. TELL THEM HOW YOU MADE SURE I HEARD YOU FUCKING HIM!” you yelled.
Dot is sobbing harder. Steve stepped by, “Y/N that’s enough,” he said in his authoritative tone.
You look up at your captain and stand, giving him a short nod, “You’re right Cap. It is enough. So, Dot let’s try again, and if you lie I will make my soldier here do something he will regret. So tell me... did you sleep with Bucky when he came home from that mission?” you ask calmly.
Dot is too hysterical to answer and just shakes her head no. You look up at your team and then to Bucky, who has a hard face on staring at the woman in front of him.
“How did you get sounds of Bucky moaning like that?” you ask, still calmly.
Dot takes a deep breath and looks around the room and stops at Tony before looking at you. “I-I.... I pretended to be interested in FRIDAY so Tony will show me everything,” she says. “I had FRIDAY record you and James having sex and then had him change from saying your name to my name. When I heard you coming out of your room, I had FRIDAY play it in my room so it sounded like James was in there,” she says.
Bucky takes a step forward, but you put your hand on his shoulder to stop him. He looks at you and nods to tell you it was ok to release him, which you did. Now Bucky squatted down in front of Dot, “You just couldn’t let me be happy if it wasn’t with you,” he says angrily.
Dot looked at him in surprise, “Jamie?” she gasps.
Bucky gives a dry laugh, “You are as poisonous as you were back in the 40′s. I should have known better than to help you. You tried to ruin my relationship!” he yelled as he stood back up and wrapped him arm around your waist. “This woman loves me in spite of all the bullshit I have been through in my life. In spite of who I was and what I did. Do you honestly think you could handle being with a murderer Dot?” he asked her.
Dot now stood up and wiped her tear-stained face, “No. When you told me about you and your friends, I knew that I didn’t want you anymore, but when I saw you were famous... I...” she trailed off.
You scoff, “You spoiled bitch!” you yell.
Bucky squeezes your waist and then let’s go before stepping toward Dot, who fearfully takes a step back. Bucky glares at her for a moment before looking up at Tony, “Are we all set on everything?” he asks.
“Oh you bet. Small little apartment in her old neighborhood. Enough money to cover 1 months rent,” Tony said.
Dot looked at Bucky, “And what am I supposed to do with 1 months rent?” she asks annoyed.
“I don’t give a damn. Figure it out. Get a damn job, but let me tell you something. If you ever come near me, or my girl again, I will make you regret it. Got it Dolores?” Bucky sneered.
Dot whimpered and then turned running out of the room. Sam and Wanda offered to go make sure she leaves. Bucky turns toward you and cups your face, “Are you ok?” he asks searching your eyes.
You can’t help but laugh, “I made you pretend to go Winter Soldier Mode, and you’re asking if I’m ok?”
Bucky laughs and pulls you into a passionate kiss, which was interrupted by Nat, “You could have told me ya know,” she says feigning annoyance.
“You’re right. But your face when you were scared was pretty funny. How was my Russian?” you ask with a smirk.
Nat laughs, “Well when you were saying words like teddy bear and lollipop, I figured you 2 planned something without me,” she said.
“Sorry, I needed it to look as real as possible,” you said with a shrug.
Nat walks away with a smirk and you look at Bucky again. “So,” he says, “Are we ok?”
Chapter 9 / Chapter 11 (finale)
Did you really think I was going to let the reader turn Bucky back into the Winter Solider? I know a lot of people asked to be tagged, so I will comply, but taglist is now closed for this story because folks we only have 1 chapter left. Feedback is appreciated.
Permanent Taglist: @hailmary-yramliah @tuiccim @comedictragedy @cap-n-stuff @thefridgeismybestie @swiftmind @aleaisntcreative @lookiamtrying @pinknerdpanda @morganclaire4 @iamvalentinaconstanza @verygraphicink @im-squished @joannie95 @peace-love-hobbitness @connie326 @amandamdiehl @harrysthiccthighss @its-izzys @roserose26 @rebekahdawkins @elegantobservationstudentsblog @broco8 @shinykoalacat @white-wolf1940 @jessyballet
Story Taglist: @afuckingshituniverse @wintrfld @cherries-and-berries @ilovemarvelanne1 @lilli2411 @minty-fiction @peakywitch @blue-mostacho @r0bbieshapiro @uncreativezx @sarahjoestewy-blog @geekanista @imtaashu @vicmc624 @browneyedgirl365 @happinessinthebeing @leyannrae @austynparksandpizza @aliloz-3 @starkleila @440mxs-wife @miniaturestudentspyhound @inhumanwithpowers @stucky-my-ship @anxiousbuck @seybox @imabadbitchhh
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hoo boy, get it i guess!!
his name is buckshot or bucky!!
*bg from unsplash
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steve rogers asking for bucky's hand in marriage:
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Hi Jo, can you write an enemies to lovers trope with bucky x reader where they have to work undercover as a married couple? Like some fluffy-smutty thing.♡
I know you wrote the same trope long time ago, but I'm such a wh*re for this trope and you're one of my favourite writers out here.
The Perfect Match
Pairing: Bucky x reader
Word Count: 2,947
Summary: You and Bucky have been undercover as a married couple for months and he's grumpy and you're maybe slightly annoying but you make it work for the mission but what happens when the truth finally comes out...
Author's Note: Hi lovely!!! Thank you so much for this request! Enemies to lovers is such a fun trope! I went a bit overboard with this one and the end went in a specific direction because I got a request for the reader professing their love for Bucky at his bed side after an injury. Also, my friend @hiddles-and-skittles sent me a super cute ask about this amazing coffee mug and I even threw that in! I tied it all together-hopefully well enough haha I hope you enjoy and thank you all so much for reading! Much love always! ❤❤❤ Jobean divider by the lovely @imerdwarf and line dividers by the lovely @skylightlantern
Warnings: Grumpy Bucky, teasing, banter, flirting, sexual tension, cursing, light dirty talk, smut (fingering), violence (I don't go into detail much), mentions of blood, soft fluffy love...IT'S A ROLLERCOASTER RIDE! (That you must be 18+ or older to ride, thanks!)
Gif not mine: Credit goes to @buckysbarnes thank you so much 🥰
The warm morning sunshine wakes you from sleep and you stretch out on the bed before throwing your feet over the edge and grabbing your robe. You can already smell the uplifting aroma of coffee and you start to move faster, already looking forward to enjoying a cup.
When you walk into the kitchen you spot Bucky at the counter, his gaze focused on his phone and his coffee cup in hand.
“Morning Buck,” you chime. “Is there enough for me?”
He doesn’t look your way and instead turns his coffee cup around, the large block letters spelling out “NO,” now facing you.
“Ugh Barnes. You are such a fucking grump, especially in the morning,” you huff. “Are you for real? No more coffee?”
He doesn’t answer so you stomp over to the machine and see that there is in fact more. You grab a mug and fill it, throwing him a dirty look before you open the front door and go out to sit on the porch swing.
You’re almost done with your coffee when Bucky comes out, sitting down next to you and pushing off the porch with his foot to move the swing. He elbows you lightly, smiling and turning his empty mug around to show you the large letters that spell, “YES,” on the other side.
“Oh, so now we can talk?” you ask, elbowing him back but much harder.
“We need to talk about our plan for the party tonight,” he states, dramatically rubbing his arm where you hit him.
Bucky sighs, making his exasperation known.
“You’re such a pain in my ass,” he groans. “And it has nothing to do with coffee. You’ve already finished yours.”
“Thanks Captain Obvious,” you snip, “but since this has nothing to do with our plan for tonight let’s get our talk over with.”
He pinches the bridge of his nose and hangs his head.
“We’ve been able to convince everyone that we like each other so far so as long as we keep that up it should be fine and once you get the information you need we can make some excuse to leave,” he says.
“Works for me,” you reply. “What time do I have to be ready?”
“Party starts at 7pm,” Bucky tells you.
You nod and start to shift, ready to go back inside.
“Wait,” Bucky says, stopping you with a soft hand to your knee. “Neighbors.”
You follow his line of sight and see your neighbors from across the street come out to tend to their garden. They both wave and you wave back, leaning into Bucky when he throws his arm around your shoulder.
He kisses the top of your head and dances his fingers up and down your arm as you snuggle on the porch swing.
“How come we don’t have a garden?” you ask, smirking when he looks at you questioningly.
“I didn’t know you wanted one,” he says. “We can plant some stuff if you like.”
“Maybe if we do that everyone will stop asking us when we’re having a baby,” you laugh.
Bucky throws his head back with laughter and you look over at him, noting the way his eyes crinkle and his nose scrunches up. He looks carefree and happy and you can’t deny how it makes you feel but rather than say something sweet you get up from the swing.
You lean down and give him a quick kiss on the cheek. “I’m going to grab a bite to eat.”
The rest of the day goes by without incident and as the time for the party nears you start to get ready, taking a bath before you shower and then trying to decide what to wear. You search the small selection of clothing you’ve brought and realize you don’t know the details of the party.
Rolling your eyes, you walk out of the room and look for Bucky. You knock on the door of his room but he doesn’t answer so you slowly open it and call his name.
Still nothing so you step in and just as you turn your head he walks out of the bathroom in nothing but his towel.
“Did you call me?” he asks, his eyes wandering down your body just as yours do the same to his.
“I uh, yeah,” you mumble. “I don’t know how to dress for this party.”
You look down and realize that you’re only wearing a tee shirt and your underwear.
“Too bad you can’t wear that,” Bucky simpers, eyeing you appreciatively.
You scoff, ignoring the way your skin heats under his gaze.
“Well?” you snap, placing your hands at your hips. “Do I need a dress or what?”
“I think you need more coffee,” he sneers. “Or better yet an attitude check.”
“That doesn’t answer my question Barnes.”
“You should definitely wear a dress,” he says then walks back into the bathroom.
“Ugh! You are insufferable” you puff, mumbling to yourself the whole way back to your room.
Once you finish doing your hair, you add light make up and you take your dress, stepping into it and trying to zip up the back. After several attempts to awkwardly reach the zipper you have no success and surrender to the fact that you’re going to have to ask Bucky for help.
You’re already annoyed so when you find him in the living room, huffing and puffing and throwing couch cushions onto the floor you poke him hard in the side to get his attention.
“What are you doing? You’re making a mess!” you shout.
He grabs your finger, pulling you closer to him with a hiss. “Stop poking me!”
“Stop messing up the couch!”
“I can’t find my favorite knife,” he retorts, releasing your finger and continuing to shuffle through the cushions.
You watch him, not bothering to help and tapping your foot on the ground with impatience. He stops searching and stares at you, his eyebrows drawing together the longer the stand off lasts.
“Why the hell do you keep a knife in the couch cushions?” you ask.
“Just in case!” he answers, getting more agitated.
“Just in case what?” you ask, throwing up your hands.
“Just in case I need to protect you,” he yells.
His admission silences you and you watch as he rubs a hand over his face.
“Why did you come in here? Did you need something?” he questions.
“I need you to zip my dress.”
“Please,” he deadpans.
“What?” you counter, stepping closer to him.
“I need you to zip my dress,” he repeats, adding, “please.”
You cross your arms over your chest and lift your chin in defiance.
“Can you zip my dress, please?” you mock.
The words come out pained and it makes him laugh. He gently takes you by the shoulders and turns you around, closing his fingers around the small zipper and slowly pulling it up. His knuckles brush your skin and you can’t stop the way you shiver at his touch.
He closes the clasp and you turn to face him, whispering, “thanks.”
“What was that?” he asks, leaning toward you.
“THANK YOU!” you shout in his face and stamp off.
“We have to leave in five minutes,” he yells after your retreating form.
After checking yourself in the mirror you put on your shoes and head for the door. Bucky is waiting there and before you walk in you get a long look at him. He looks good. Too good and you want to punch him in the face.
The click of your heels makes him spin around in place, his eyes assessing you once more.
“There you are,” he says, letting his eyes linger before opening the door.
The party is already in full swing when you arrive and Bucky keeps you close, his hand never far from your skin. You lean into his touch, smoothing your hand down his chest or leaning your head against his shoulder. You look like the perfect, happy couple.
“How about a drink?” Bucky asks, pulling you toward the bar.
You keep hold of his hand, letting him order your drink while you scan the room.
“You look beautiful,” he whispers in your ear, his lips brushing the shell and the sensation startles you.
Your head snaps in his direction and you realize how close his face is. Your tongue darts out to trace over your lips before you say, “thank you,” and chug half the drink he hands you.
“I’m sorry I was a dick today,” he continues. “I’m just frustrated.”
You raise your brows in surprise, your eyes wandering over his face as you wait for him to elaborate.
“It’s just…I mean,” he starts, clearly getting flustered. “What the hell is going on with us?”
Your eyes widen and your shocked expression makes him stumble over his words more.
“This has nothing to do with why we’re here,” he goes on. “What I mean is, uh…”
His last sentence trails off when the two of you are interrupted by a ‘friend’ that comes over to say hi. Bucky leans against the bar and slides his arm around your waist, pulling you into his side. The woman starts chatting you up about an upcoming event in the neighborhood but all you can focus on is the warmth of Bucky’s arm and the soft brush of his fingers at your elbow.
Bucky nods and interjects every so often but you just keep sipping your drink and trying not to make your reaction to his touch too obvious. His hand glides along your side and up to your shoulder where he starts toying with the thin strap of your dress. It falls to the side and he ghosts his fingertips across your bare skin, catching your eye when you tremble slightly.
“Excuse me a moment,” you say quietly. “I’m just going to use the restroom.”
Bucky gives you a quick peck on the cheek and watches you walk away, reluctantly turning back to the conversation. After five minutes passes Bucky starts to worry so he politely excuses himself.
He quickly finds the bathroom and knocks, calling your name while pressing his ear to the door. You unlock it and peer through the small crack.
“Are you ok baby doll?” Bucky asks, concern evident in his features.
“I’m ok,” you whisper, opening it further.
He takes that as an invitation and squeezes in, shutting and locking it behind him.
“You sure?” he asks.
“I want to know what you were going to say before we got interrupted.”
He lets out a breath and takes a tentative step closer. His metal fingers reach out to fix the strap of your dress, his touch delicate as his hand remains and he takes another step toward you.
“I’m sorry I’m always so grumpy and that I make everything difficult for you,” he starts, his legs now pressing against yours in the small bathroom.
“You don’t make things difficult,” you tell him, lifting your fingers to fix the collar of his shirt.
Before you drop your hand he takes it in his and brings your palm to his lips.
“Do you know what it’s like for me to go to sleep every night with you in the next room. How badly I want to go to you, what I want to do to you.”
You open your mouth to speak but he stops you, pressing his lips lightly to yours as he whispers, “I hear you at night. I know you touch yourself while you’re thinking of me.”
Your mouth opens to protest but your words fall away when he slides his tongue across your lips, brushing his thumb over your jaw before kissing you breathless. A moan leaves the back of your throat and he loses any control he had, his metal hand sliding along your inner thigh to lift your dress.
You let your legs fall open and he growls when he brushes his fingers over the wet patch on your underwear. You start to tug his shirt free of his pants, fumbling with the buckle as his fingers explore between your legs, pushing the lace aside and collecting your arousal.
“I’ve thought about this for so long,” he whispers, letting his head fall to the crook of your neck, “of how perfect you would feel coming apart on my fingers.”
He teases you with every movement, pulling whimpers from your parted lips as his finger glides over your clit. You grab his wrist and look him in the eye, silently begging for more. He captures your lips just as he slides a single finger inside you, his low groan sending electricity across your skin.
“Tell me baby girl,” he purrs, “do those sweet fingers of yours feel as good as mine?”
Before you can answer he pushes a second finger into you. “Because you feel so much better than I imagined.”
You rock your hips onto his hand and chase your release. His thumb presses to your clit and starts to rub in small circles, his hard cock rubbing against your thigh with each pump of his thick fingers.
“Answer me,” he breathes out.
“No,” you moan, “nothing feels as good.”
“Just wait until I fuck you with my cock baby doll.”
His words push you over the edge and you fall apart on his fingers, your hips stuttering as your release washes over you and he draws out every shuddering breath.
He holds you steady with a strong hand at your waist and slowly removes his hand, lifting his fingers between your bodies and bringing them to his mouth. He holds your heated gaze while he licks them clean.
“And you taste sweeter than sugar,” he croons, licking his lips. “I need more.”
He kneels, hiking the material of your dress up and over your thighs but before he can get his mouth on you there’s a loud knock at the door. You’re startled from your haze and you quickly shift your dress back into place and grab his hand.
“Be right out,” you say, turning on the water in the sink.
“Shit, shit, shit Buck,” you mutter. “We have to get back out there.”
He turns you around in his arms, silencing your continued rambles with a dominating kiss.
“What are you going to say when we open the door?” he asks, a shit eating grin on his face.
“That I wasn’t feeling well after the drinks and you came to check on me. I just needed a minute to sit and gather myself.”
The words sound good when you say them but then you turn to look in the mirror and run your fingertips over your pink and swollen lips. Your dress is rumpled and Bucky’s shirt is still partially untucked.
“It looks like you just fucked me,” you giggle.
His chest presses to your back and his cock throbs along your skin, the feeling making you bite your lips to suppress a moan.
“Just wait until I get the chance,” he promises, slipping his fingers under the hem of your dress.
You bat them away and poke him in the chest. “Fix yourself. We have a job to do first.”
Once he’s decent again you smooth your hands over your dress and open the door, holding your stomach as you walk out.
“I’m so sorry. I wasn’t feeling well,” you explain to the lady outside the door. “I think I had one too many drinks.”
She eyes you both suspiciously and Bucky gives her a sly smile as he gently guides you down the hallway with a hand at your lower back.
“Do you think it worked?” you ask once you’re clear of the bathroom.
“No way,” he laughs, wrapping you in his arms.
You lean into him. “I never got a chance to tell you anything back there.”
Bucky smiles, his eyes soft but full of mischief. “I’d say I was sorry but I’m not at all.”
You dip your head with a giggle and smooth your hands along his chest. You start to gather your thoughts but before you can get them out, you catch a flash of silver from the corner of your eye. Bucky reacts just a second later but it’s too late.
He shields you with his body even as the injury incapacitates him. His metal arm deflects the next two bullets but you know you need to do something and fast. With quick movements you reach under his pant leg and find his knife. With a deft flick of your wrist, it goes flying through the air and into the neck of your assailant.
The man falls to the floor in a heap and you immediately press your hands against Bucky’s side.
“It’s ok doll,” he grits out. “Call Sam.”
You keep pressure on the wound with one hand, ignoring the screams of the people around you and the stream of tears running down your cheeks and make the call.
After what feels like hours you finally feel Bucky stir next to you.
“Hey doll face,” he says hoarsely. “You ok?”
Your eyes water and instead of saying a word you kiss him softly on the lips. Your fingers trace his jaw, trailing over the dark hair that lines his cheeks and then you kiss him again. On the lips, on the cheeks, on the nose. You pepper him with kisses all over his face until he’s bright eyed and smiling.
“I’m fine,” you tell him when you finally stop kissing him. “Now that I know you’re ok.”
“Never been better,” he murmurs, cradling your cheek and pulling you down for another kiss.
@book-dragon-13 @drabblewithfrannybarnes @hiddles-rose @jhangelface0523 @jewels2876 @loricameback @lookiamtrying @marvelgirl7 @musicalmuffindog1410 @dreamlessinparis @nano--raptor @randomfandompenguin @starlightcrystalline @moongreydreams @suchababie @tumblin-theworldaway
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Anybody else catch this little moment in TFATWS 1.03. Power Broker? I didn't the first time through but did during my first re-watch.
At first, I was like, "oh, that's cute. He likes cars." Then it clicked -- that's probably a car from his era. Something he may have driven, or at least saw around Brooklyn. And it's likely in pristine condition, as it would have been back then.
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Some dangerous men get a hold of your address and Bucky comes to save your ass. What happens the next day?
Warnings: Cussing (obviously), implied smut, outright smut, fluff, god save the queen (also this is my first time writing any smut so just know that lol)
18+ Only, Minors DNI
Bucky woke up and turned so he could see you asleep on the pillow beside him. You took his breath away. It was raining outside, and the gentle light coming in from the windows lit your delicate features, making you look so innocent and sweet. You were snoring faintly and it made him smile. Even your imperfections were perfect. He would be damned if he let anyone hurt you. He kissed your forehead as lightly as he could and then snuck out of bed to get ready for the day. His legs were stiff and sore as he walked slowly to the bathroom. He turned the shower on and turned slightly, catching a glimpse of his back in the mirror.
“Holy shit,” he whispered. There were red lines criss-crossing all over his back, a couple places had scabs where you had drawn blood. He turned and checked his chest only to find it littered with hickeys and some faint lipstick stains. Memories of screams, grasping hands, and desperate moans flashed through his mind and a slow smile graced his face. Last night had been…beautiful. He stepped under the warm water and hissed, the scratches stinging a little when they got wet. But his back, hips, and leg muscles needed the heat to help relax. After washing off and jacking off, he stepped out and dried off. When he came out of his bathroom, you weren’t in the bed anymore and his breath caught. His first thought was of the Dover Boys and how the hell they could have gotten in here to take you without him hearing anything. The rattle of pans in the kitchen grounded him and he sighed in relief. You were still here.
He slipped on a pair of boxers and gym shorts and then stepped out to find you. He followed the sounds of light music and singing to the kitchen where you were making eggs and toast for the two of them. His mouth fell slightly open when he rounded the corner. You were standing there, wearing nothing but a pair of his boxers and an apron. He was quite certain that you were going to be the death of him, and no death could be sweeter.
One of your recent favorite songs was playing, and Bucky loved it too.
“Sylvia?” he called, joining in with Mickey as he walked to stand beside you at the stove.
Your head popped up and you gave him a large, joyful smile. “Yes, Mickey?” you sang.
He picked up a wooden spoon and used it as a microphone. “How do you call your lover boy?”
You used the spatula that was in your hand. “C’mere, lover boy!” you sang with all the sexy gravelly voice you could muster.
“And if he doesn’t answer?” He flipped the stove off and grabbed you by the hand to pull you in.
“Oh, lover boy?” you answered sweetly, wrapping one arm around his waist and holding your spatula microphone with the other.
“And if he STILL doesn’t answer?” Bucky bit his lip, knowing his favorite part was coming next.
You crooned, “I simply say, ‘Baby, oooohhh baby! My sweet baby, you’re the one!’”
Bucky took your microphones and set them down, taking you by the other hand and danced with you around the kitchen, the two of you singing together. The song faded out and you looped both arms around his neck. You pulled him down to kiss you, taking charge and swirling your tongue around his mouth. You loved the way you could still taste his cinnamon toothpaste. You broke the kiss with a pop and shivered, his hands coming to rest on your sides so his thumbs could brush back and forth over the exposed sides of your breasts. “I’ve got breakfast and coffee ready for us. Then, I’d like to help you deal with…the boys…today.” You looked at him with a serious face. “I don’t take kindly to someone threatening me at my own home. Can I be part of today, please?”
“Anything for you, my love.” He said. “How many hickeys do you have this morning?”
You winked at him. “One too few, I think. Could I get another one right here?” you asked, pointing to where your neck met your collar bone. “I think it would look really pretty there to show off at our meeting.” Without hesitation, he nestled his face right where you had pointed. You sighed and leaned your head back to give him more room to work. You tangled your fingers in his hair; that earned you a good slap on the ass.
He stood back up to admire his handiwork. Satisfied, he lead you to the kitchen so you could eat.
.. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. ..
You sat in Bucky’s chair behind his desk, cleaning your favorite pistol and waiting for the Dover’s to show up. Steve had set up a meeting between them and Bucky, but didn’t tell them what it was about. He just said that it was a good opportunity they would want to be a part of. He was waiting out front and Bucky…well, he was pacing back and forth, getting more and more angry. Not at you, never truly at you. Even yesterday he wasn’t mad at you, he was scared and mad at the situation.
“Mr. Barnes, darling, please sit down or come stand beside me. You’re going to wear tracks on my very expensive rug.” You were tense, and he could tell by the name you used. He walked behind you and started to rub your shoulders. You knew he was trying to be helpful, but it was also a good use of his nervous energy.
“Boss,” crackled the radio on the desk. “They’re here.”
You looked up at Bucky, a bit tense but also secure in your safety here. You nodded.
“Strip them of weapons and bring them up,” he commanded.
Less than five minutes later, two gentlemen walked into the office followed by a very angry Steve. “They had weapons. I specifically told them to not bring anything and what do these fuckin idiots do? They brought these!” he shouted, dumping a pile of hand guns, knives, and a taser onto the floor behind the desk. You cocked an eyebrow at the assortment and looked back up at the boys. “Thank you, Steve. Please step just outside the door in case we need you.” You focused your eyes on the desk in front of you and began snapping your own weapon back together. “You want to walk me through that thought process, boys?”
They just stared at you. “Mr. Barnes, they’re all yours.” You said without looking up.
Bucky walked around and sat on the front of the desk, giving you a nice view of his ass and strong back. You knew you had carved into that back last night and the thought of those marks made you crave him.
You put the last piece into place and slammed a magazine into it, cocked the gun to put a bullet in the chamber, and set it back down with a loud thump. Bucky was asking them if they knew why they had been asked to visit, asked them if they knew why he had killed their cousin, the usual small talk. But you didn’t want to wait for him to do something, you were madder than hell.
“Honestly, I don’t give a fuck who we shot,” you interrupted. Bucky stood and walked to the side of the desk, holding out his hand to you. You took it and stood as well, allowing him to guide you to the front of the desk with him. He leaned against the desk and pulled your ass flush against him, rutting against you while the Dover boys stared wide-eyed. “Do you understand what this show means?” They shook their heads at you, their eyes glued to where your skirt was beginning to ride up with the friction. “You’re leaving here in a body bag. You think you can use our men to get my address? You think you can attempt to put me in harm’s way without consequences?” By now Bucky had lost control of himself. He unzipped his pants and pulled the back of your skirt up the rest of the way, burying himself in you. It wasn’t an accident you had “forgotten” to pack underwear for today. “You think you can see him touch me like this without losing your eyes? This is going to be the last thing you see. You think you can hear him whisper love words in my ear? No, you’ll lose your voice so you can never repeat them. You’ll lose your ears so it’s the last memory of sound you have. You made a big mistake gentlemen. He might be the king of this city, the head of this mafia, but I’m his queen and everyone knows you respect his queen or pay in blood.” You let Bucky go a few more moments, enjoying the sensation, the audience, and the adrenaline. “Kneel.” You commanded. The two men were crying but couldn’t seem to look away. Bucky buried his face in the crook of your neck to muffle his whimpers. You had driven him beyond the point of return, he was so far gone for you. Your demanding voice sent shivers down his spine and he had to slow down so he didn’t cum too early. “I said kneel!” you shouted.
They sank to their knees and started to beg for their lives. You whipped your pistol up and shot them both between the eyes before Bucky registered what was going on, blood splattering everywhere. You moaned and came, dragging him along with you.
When the two of you had cleaned yourselves up with the washrag and baby wipes you kept in his drawer for such an occasion, you opened the door and ushered in the clean-up crew. Bucky was slumped in his chair, still dazed. “You wanna go home, honey?” you asked softly.
He looked up at you with tears in his eyes. “I love you so much, Y/n. I mean it. Will you move in with me? We can have your stuff in my house by the end of the day.” He grabbed your hands and guided you to sit on his lap. “I know you wanna get married, let’s go ring shopping tomorrow. Can we move you in today though? I love you and I don’t want to live another day without you.” He kissed your hands and sniffled.
“Oh, baby, I love you so much, of course I’ll move in with you!” You kissed him all over his lips, nose, cheeks, forehead, everywhere you could reach.
“Steve, will you bring my car to the front?” Bucky called. “And call the Francos, the Tanner boy, and a few other trusted guys. We’re gonna move my darlin’ to my house today.” He wrapped an arm around your back and one under your knees and picked you up. “I’m gonna hold you all the way to the house, and then carry you over the threshold. There ain’t a doubt in my mind you were made for me, babydoll. You drive me insane, you know that?”
You giggled and looped your arms around his neck. “I kinda had my suspicions during our meeting today.” You were looking forward to what the rest of life would bring with your Mr. Barnes. The two of you became the most dangerous couple in all of New York. Everyone knew to respect the king, but God help whoever disrespected the Queen.
.. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. ..
Thank you for reading! If you wanna see more of what I've written, my masterlist is the top pinned post on my blog. If you would like to be added to my tag list, let me know, and if you have thoughts, questions, concerns, comments, or requests feel free to shoot me an ask! Love y'all!
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Close To You - Part 2
You can read part 1 here | Bucky Barnes Masterlist | Masterlist | Requests are highly requested, I’m bored.
Summary: (Based off of the song “Close to You” by Dayglow.) The dinner did not go as planned, and Y/N has a hard time dealing with her turbulent emotions, and after going too far, Bucky is able to bring her back down, but what follows is a whole lot more emotions.
Word Count: 4K+ (holy mackerel)
Warnings: 18+ angst and fluff! (Oh boy), mentions of panic attacks, obsessions with a metal arm, smut, injury, diet-confessions, and soft!beefy!Bucky
A/N: ok you might hate me after this one haha. This took me a long time to continue cause I’ve been really busy, but I just had this burst of inspiration so I wrote it all down in one sitting. (Crazy! I know!) Anyways, feedback is highly appreciated, because your thoughts on what I write really is what drives me to actually do this more often. I crave validation. Let me know if you’d like a part 3!
Gif not mine. Not proofread much.
We locked eyes from a distance
So close but I missed it
Now you’re walking away
When I wish you stay
The rest of the dinner went smoothly enough, yet you were so nervous that you barely made conversation with Bucky at all. But the worst part of the night was after the dinner.
“Hey, I have a great idea, why don’t we have a movie night? Y’know just like the old days in the tower?” Tony offered, eyes nervously glancing at you and Bucky before putting on a confident grin. The rest of the Avengers hum in agreement, some more reluctant than others, but when Tony finally rests his gaze once again on Bucky, things don’t go according to plan.
“Wha’dya say Barnes? You gotta start catching up, Rogers is just finally starting to get Peter’s Alien references,” He chuckles, and Peter blushes slightly when the rest of the table lets out light chuckles. Bucky nervously looks down towards his empty plate once he feels everyone’s eyes on him. You see him look to you from his downward glance, and he must’ve not liked whatever face you were making at the time, because he abruptly stood up, scraping his metal chair across the floor.
“I think I’m gonna call it a night.” He grumbles under his breath. He looks over at Steve, who is wearing a concerned expression for his friend, gives him a curt nod, before picking up his plate. His metal digits accidentally graze your elbow, resting on the table, and you shudder from the coolness of his fingers. Bucky immediately recoils however, rushing over to the kitchen, dropping his plate in the sink loudly before making his way towards his usual exit. He pauses, making uncomfortable eye contact with you. Your eyebrows were furrowed, your mind already racing with intrusive thoughts as to why he would leave, before he even walked through the entry to the hallway. Why couldn’t he just stay? Bucky gnawed on the inside of his left cheek, thinking for a moment, perhaps an excuse, but he then shakes his head, briskly walking out of the living room with a determined pace. After a moment, you finally break your gaze from where Bucky once stood, finding your plate much more interesting than anyone’s gaze.
“Well that went well,” Natasha murmured, trying to break some of the uncomfortable, thick, tension at the table.
“I’m sure Bucky was just tired is all,” Steve tried, mostly trying to make an excuse for his friend’s icier-than-usual behavior.
“Eh, its fine, we can still watch that movie, if anyone’s still up for it,” Sam offered. People were a little less enthusiastic, all now well aware of Natasha’s and Wanda’s plan to make Bucky and you more acquainted, had completely backfired. You didn’t say a single word, instead forcing yourself to not cry. Why were you about to cry? Why do you care so much about what he thinks, what he does? You quickly get up, making a similar scraping sound with your metal chair. All the quiet murmurings of the avengers completely hushed, everyone now looking at you.
“I’m gonna go to bed, I’m not really..uh..in the mood for a movie,” You garbled, your chin slightly wobbling. Wanda tried to touch your arm comfortingly, but you quickly pull your plate from the table, avoiding her.
“Y/n…” She tried to comfort you, but you walk away from the table throwing your plate in the sink just like Bucky had done, only this time storming out of the room, not even stopping to acknowledge anyone further.
“Sorry for wasting your time everyone,” You call over your shoulder, and the sound of your rushed footsteps down the hallway seems to be the loudest noise in the compound. All the avengers looked at each other, and all make a silent agreement to end the night there, all clearing their places, thanking Wanda and Natasha for the meal, and finally retreating to their respective places in the compound. The only people who remained in the kitchen were Natasha, Wanda, and Steve.
“So..that didn’t go according to plan,” Steve sighed, running a hand through his locks, tossling them messily to one side.
As soon as you made it into the assured safety of your room, you pressed your back against the door, trying to let the coolness of the metal smooth you, but it only reminded you of Bucky’s accidental graze against your elbow from earlier. You sink the the floor, overwhelmed by all the sensations you were feeling, but you were able to ground yourself enough to speak to the cold emptiness of your room.
“Friday, don’t let anyone in my room please,” You sigh, and when she affirms she has followed through on your request, you let out a not so silent scream into the palms of your hands. Frustrated tears race down your cheeks, and you couldn’t help letting out a few sobs before deciding to crawl into the childish safety of your bed.
There’s something on my mind
There’s something that I
Wish I would’ve told you but you just don’t seem
To wonder what I’m doing when you’re close to me.
You tossed and turned, trying to let sleep consume you, but your body was filled with a certain mixture of sadness and anger you couldn’t seem to quell, no matter how hard you tried. You reached for your phone, reading the clock. 12:45. Deciding that sleep was not an option for you at the moment, you changed into some exercise clothes, and emerged from your room. Bucky’s room was right across the hall from yours, so you padded as quietly as possible past his room, your bare feet slightly sticking to the cool floor.
Once you made it into the gym, you sighed in relief to see no one was there. You went up the the punching bag already set up, with a few rows of stacked backups placed off to the side. You reach for the tape placed next to the punching bag, wrapping up your knuckles quickly as you size up the bag. You decided to let out your feelings, in one of the only ways you knew how to: with a few, good hard punches. You bounced on the balls of your feet slightly, and let out a light punch, feeling the bag tremble slightly under your touch.
A few punches turned into many, and after one last punch, followed by a loud grunt, you see the bag go flying, spilling sand and other grains all over the mat. You slightly gasp. You had only seen Steve and Bucky do that sort of thing. Yet the slight relief that flooded through your system when you threw that last good punch, had you dragging one of the replacement bags towards the hook, placing it on after a minute of struggle, before hitting the bag once more.
A few more bags later, there was sand and grains scattered within a twenty foot radius. There was a pile of broken punching bags on the floor, with new, shiny ones, placed right next to were you were letting out all your frustration. Your face was covered in a mixture of tears and sweat, the rest of your body drenched as well. You didn’t care though, you still had Bucky’s cold stare in the back of your mind, gnawing at your heart every time you threw a punch.
Why did you have to like him so much to the point that any hint of rejection made your body so keen on destroying the first thing in front of you? You weren’t this much of an ill-tempered person, always able to control your emotions well enough that it didn’t impact your daily life. You just wish Bucky knew how you felt about him: how much you craved to see his smile, hear his laugh, see him be content with himself instead of being an empty, tortured soul. You thought Bucky deserved the world, or rather, you thought the world of Bucky. Just being near him sent you into a tailspin. Not just because of his sorrowed, cerulean eyes that you could get lost in. Not because of his Adonis-like physique, making your body hum in excitement whenever you happened to gaze upon it.
It was because he was kind-hearted, braver than most, and incredibly strong, despite all his struggles meant to make him the opposite. You just wished you had the courage to tell him these things, but it seemed like Bucky barely thought of you in the first place. He didn’t act the way you did at all. His eyes didn’t light up when you walked into a room. He didn’t laugh at all your jokes. He didn’t worry about you whenever you were on a mission, so worried to point where he would wait for you to get back from your mission, just wanting confirmation you were okay before being able to do anything else.
You did all those things. Oh, how you wish Bucky would do those things for you.
Another bag flies from the hook, this time making impact with the glass wall. You see the glass shatter, scattering onto the ground. Once the sand and glass finally settles, you don’t immediately go to hook another and start again. Instead you stand there, fists dropped to you sides, and you finally give yourself a break. You chest is falling and rising with incredible speed, and you can even hear your heartbeat in your eardrums. It has no signs of slowing down when you can still picture Bucky’s eyes finding your in the kitchen, filled with emotions you couldn’t begin the decipher, yet still so beautiful your mind can’t help but stutter at the thought. Tears once again pour into your vision, and you let out a frustrated cry. Why can’t you just stop crying? You never felt more pathetic. You sink the to the ground, cross legged, staring at the debris twenty feet in front of you as you let the tears trickle down to your chin.
You hear the glass door to the gym slide open. You look over to see Bucky, the last person you wanted to see you like this, look at the mess in front of you, then to your shaking figure with frantic eyes. But once his eyes settle onto your tear filled ones, you see his face slightly relax, going from slight annoyance to incredible worry.
“Oh Y/N..” He sighs. He quickly walks over to you. You see him only wearing grey sweatpants, and if it weren’t for you already racing pulse, you would’ve malfunctioned at the sight of his chest coated in a slight sheen of sweat. Once he reaches you, he kneels in front of you, placing both his hands on your cheeks. You take in a sharp, shuddered inhale at his touch, but the tears keep falling. You didn’t mean to to lean into his touch, the contrast between the coolness of his cybernetic palm versus his fleshed one, providing some sense of comfort.
“Hey…it’s ok..take a deep breath, just focus of me ok?” Bucky coos, rubbing his thumbs underneath your eyes, wiping away the tears collected there. After a couple minutes of Bucky guiding your breath, calming you down enough to the point where you don’t feel your tears falling anymore, Bucky lets out a heavy sigh. You can tell he was tired, yet knowing Bucky, he probably wasn’t sleeping well before this.
“Sorry for waking you up…” You mumble, trying to avoid his gaze. He holds onto your face slightly tighter, signaling you to keep looking at him.
“No..no..I was awake, I couldn’t sleep anyway.” He chuckles lowly, warmed slightly by how you immediately thought to apologize to him despite you being the one in need. You heart clenches, in a good way, at the sound of his laughter. You hadn’t heard it in a while, you just wish you heard it under better circumstances.
“Now can you tell me why you’re down here at 3 am, breaking every single punching bag we have?” he asks semi-seriously, happy to see you smile a bit at his words.
“Wow, I didn’t realize I’ve been down here that long..” You chuckle, but when Bucky narrows his eyes at you when you avoided his question, you sigh.
“I uh..needed to let off some steam, I tried to sleep it off, but I just couldn’t sit still,” You admit, looking down at your hands. Bucky finally lets go of your face, looking down at your hands as well. He gingerly unwraps the tape covering your knuckles, you wince when he makes contact with the bloodied blisters and cuts coating your hands. You realized that your fists were clenched so tightly, your nails even broke the skin on your palms. Bucky looks at you with a scowl and you whine at him,
“I didn’t think I was going that hard..”
“You just shattered a glass wall,” He states very matter-of-factly. You slump, your shoulder and he lets out a small laugh.
“I’m not mad at you, let’s just get you cleaned up ok?” He assures you, and you give him a small nod. He helps you off of the floor, but when your knees wobble from the exhaustion finally hitting you, you fall right back on your ass.
“Jesus, you really shouldn’t work yourself too hard. I’m just gonna carry you, is that ok?” He asks carefully, and you nod. He picks you up, hooking his arms underneath your thighs. You instinctively wrap your legs around his waist, but your heart was thrumming rapidly, confused why he would carry you this way.
“You comfy?” Bucky asks, his head loto look at you. His face was incredibly close to yours and you cant help but feel your face heat up at the proximity.
“Like I’m riding a cloud,” You giggle nervously, and Bucky turns away from you with a small laugh. You do catch his ears turning slightly red, and youre not very sure why. Bucky starts to make his way to the door.
“What about the mess?” You ask him, but he just shushes you.
“Friday will have someone take care of it, right?” He calls to the ceiling.
“Of course Sargent Barnes,” she chimes.
“Besides, you’re more important right now, doll.” He assures, and the way he called you doll makes your heart go into overdrive.
There’s something on my chest
I wish I would’ve said
I think it over and it might be true
I’m only overthinking when I’m close to you
Bucky takes you to his room, and you are not surprised by the lack of decoration. He quickly takes you into his bathroom, he sets you down gently on the counter. There’s a comfortable silence between you two as he grabs his first aid kit from the mirror cabinet behind you. He also grabs a small hand towel, turning on the sink to start soaking it with cool water. You give your hands to him, and he starts to carefully wipe your wounds clean, his metal arm holding onto your wrist while he uses his fleshed one to gently wipe away any sweat or blood coating your palms. He was still shirtless, and you couldn’t help but stare up his bionic arm, trailing your arms up the plated slates like you have countless times before, yet this time was incredibly intimate. Only having stared at it from a comfortable distance, you were finally able to see the intricate details. There were small scuffs, maybe a couple dents here and there, but otherwise, the arm is very well taken care of. You eyes finally land on where the machine meets flesh, the scars building a complex, yet beautiful bridge between the two. You didn’t mind it one bit, not seeing his arm as an accessory, a symbol of his tragic past, but instead just a continuation of the man you admire so much. None of this ogling goes unnoticed by Bucky, and he is slightly confused why your eyes weren’t filled with fear or disdain, but adoration?
“Is there a reason why you’re staring at my arm like that?” Bucky asks, he tried to come off as slightly teasing, but to be honest, he was just mostly curious for your answer.
“Sorry-I uh-I didn’t mean to stare, well, I kinda did-“ You began to stutter, and Bucky chuckles at the way your eyes try to meet his, but keep flicking away, sometimes towards his arm, or where he’s cleaning your hands,
“I like your arm. I think it looks-beautiful,” You blurt, and you would’ve slapped yourself for the word choice if it wasn’t for Bucky’s firm yet gentle grip on your wrist.
“Really?” Bucky is shocked by this, and you give him a shy nod, “Why?”
You finally don’t hesitate with your answer. This might be your only chance to tell him a fraction of how you felt. Maybe Bucky will warm up to you if you actually have the courage to compliment him. You recall your thoughts from earlier.
“Well, I just like the details: the way the little slates move whenever you do, the small scuffs and dents that you can’t seem to get rid of, I can sometimes see my reflection in it, which is sometimes helpful when I’m having a bad hair day,” You laugh, trying to distract yourself from your mind running wild. Bucky lets out a small laugh. He has moved onto putting on the anti-bacterial, which begins to sting your palms. You wince slightly.
“Keep talking about it, might help distract you,” Bucky urges you, knowing you had more to say. You swallow heavily, as if trying to keep you intimate feelings from spilling out before continuing,
“Okay, I like how good you take good care of it, like when I see you wiping it clean on the quinjet whenever coming back from missions, but uh-ow” you wince when the antibacterial reaches into a particularly nasty cut, “But, my favorite part is where it meets the rest of you. I dunno why, but I think the scars as if its like, tons of tiny little bridges connecting it to the rest of you. I know you may not like that part, guessed off the fact you don’t ever take off your shirt, like ever, but I still like it. I don’t really see it as something being stuck to you, I just see it as, a beautiful arm connected to a beautiful being,” You murmur the last part, and you feel Bucky still his movements. You didn’t even notice that he had already wrapped up your hands with a soft gauze, and had been holding your hands as you finished your seemingly never ending thought. You look up into his eyes, and you see them slightly misted, touched by your words.
“You really think that?” Bucky whispers, and you nod with a small smile. Your heart and brain are pleading with you to speak your mind. You’ve had this feeling in about Bucky for what seems like forever, and since he’s not running away from you from what you just said, you finally take the leap. Whether you would fall into an ocean of reciprocated feelings or complete rejection was unclear to you, but frankly, you couldn’t care less.
“I think so much about you Buck, like to the point that I start overthinking whenever you’re close to me. My brain would just start thinking all these things, and I could never build up the courage to say anything, cause I was afraid you wouldn’t be able to say any of those types of things back,”
“You mean compliments?” Bucky clarifies, and you let out a small laugh.
“Was that why you were in the gym so late? Were you frustrated about it?” He asked quietly, to which you nodded calmly, and the question of ‘Were you upset because you thought I didn’t like you back?’ still hung in the air.
“Well that was probably the nicest compliment anyone has ever given me. I don’t know if I can top it,” Bucky admits shyly. You let out a small laugh, being brave enough to squeeze his palms only slightly, not enough to hurt your hands.
“Don’t worry, you don’t have to. I just, needed to get it off my chest.” You sigh, as if letting that emotional weight actually roll off your shoulders. You were still tense, unsure how Bucky felt about after this almost diet-confession.
“Can I get something off my chest then?” The super soldier asks quietly and you nod. He leans forwards, pressing his forehead against yours in a comforting and loving manner, and you can feel his minty breath fanning your cheeks and flooding your senses. You are still able to make eye contact with him when he finally speaks,
“I think a lot about you too. It may not seem like I do, but trust me when I say, you are on my mind almost all the time.” He screws his eyes shut, and you can feel him slightly shaking in anxiety, so you rest a hand on where his flesh meets metal. You begin to trace your thumb alongside his scars, and he lets us a shuddered, yet relaxed breath before continuing,
“I know I act like I don’t care, and I’m really sorry about that, but I overthink a lot when I’m around you too. Not just good things, like how pretty your face is, and how sweet and caring you are to me, and all those small little details that no one else really notices. But I also think about some bad things: like how I don’t deserve to have you look at me like I hung all the stars in the sky, that I don’t deserve to have someone go out of their way to wait for me to come back from missions to make sure I’m okay, that I don’t deserve someone to ‘compliment’ me like you do,”
“But you do deserve those things Buck, and I know you may not believe me, but I’ll tell you every single day until you do..if you’ll let me,” You plead, looking into his open eyes once more.
“Only if you promise to compliment me more in the process,” He chuckles, and you giggle. His hands come up to cup your cheeks, stroking his thumbs across our cheekbones.
“Of course I will,” You promise him, and he finally pulls your lips onto his, and it feels like heaven. You sigh into his mouth as you close your eyes, finally feeling all that anxiety pent up inside you dissipate, letting Bucky’s warmth fill the void left there.
His kiss becomes more passionate, desperate, like a starved man in the middle of winter. His arms envelop yours, and you spread your legs apart to let him into your space even more. His tongue dances along your bottom lip, and when his metal arm squeezes your thigh, you let out a small gasp, granting his access to your mouth. You moan at the feeling his his muscle moving against yours, teasing you ever so slightly as he he presses his lower half into you. You can feel your heat begin to become wet with arousal. Bucky finally parts his plush, pink lips from yours, yet not straying too far. Your eyes flutter open, looking into his eyes, his pupils blown out from lust, circled by playful, oceanic irises. His eyes scream with want, and his body is pure sex.
“You would not believe how many times I’ve thought about this whenever we spar, eat dinner together, go on missions, frankly anytime I’m near you.” He murmurs against your lips. He begins to kiss down to your jaw, making his way towards behind your earlobe, and you let out a shaky sigh when he sucks a particularly sensitive spot.
“I bet you I thought about it more to be honest,” You sigh, reaching a bandaged hand into his tresses, clutching at it when he grins to grind into your most sensitive area, slick with want. Meanwhile he has been nipping at the flesh on your throat, leaving marks there that will surely cause questions if left uncovered the next day.
“Buck..” you whine, and Bucky stops his attack on your neck, looking up at you from his hunched position on the counter.
“Yeah princess?” He asks teasingly, making you let out a sinful moan at just the pet name alone.
“Bed. Now.” You plead, and Bucky gives you a smirk that you may have only seen before if you traveled back in time to his younger days.
“Anything for you,”
A/N: And….that’s the end! Boooooo…i know..but i have been writing this for too long and my hands need a break. If you want to see how the rest if this story plays out in a part 3….please let me know!
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When Falling for an Avenger
Pairing: Bucky x paramedic!Reader
Summary: With your new job working with the Avengers secured, you're sure you'll be seeing Bucky, and everyone else of course, a lot more frequently. You're sure you'll be able to keep Barnes out of trouble enough to keep him alive. But then again, he seems to be trouble, and boy did he worm his way into your heart quickly. You only hope no one gets hurt along the way. Besides, what could go wrong?
Word Count: 5,975
Warnings: 18+ Only, pining, swearing, medical terminology, fluff, angst (it's me), minor/major injuries, mentions of death/dying, violence, what comes with being a paramedic, mentions of blood
A/N: Here is part 2 of When Saving an Avenger! This is not a stand alone! It's FINALLY done!! Not going to lie, I had a couple moments where I got writers block on this, which is why it took so long, but it's here! So... this is gonna be a long one but I hope you guys like it! Also, I'm adding my entire tag list to this mini series. If you'd like to only be on it for certain fics or would like to be on it in general, shoot me a message or leave a comment🙂.
Note: I am not an EMT so not everything is 100% accurate. Though, I have tried to google and research as much as I can. That being said, there’s still a lot I don’t know about the life of an EMT. All mistakes are my own. The gif used is not my own, credit to the original owner.
When Saving an Avenger (Part 1)
Two weeks ago, you attended an event hosted by Tony Stark. Bucky had hurt himself, again. And again, you treated the man you’d see at night when you’d close your eyes to sleep. You hadn’t seen him since you left that kitchen. As soon as you mentioned the offer to Tony, you were pulled away to actually talk about what he was offering. When you told your best friend and roommate, they couldn’t stop gushing about the it and encouraging you to do it. And they didn’t miss about the way you talked about a certain beautiful, blue-eyed, super soldier.
“So, what do you think all this with you and Sergeant Barnes means?” They had asked. You didn’t know then, and you certainly weren’t sure of it now.
You sigh, allowing your head to comfortably rest on your arms as you were leaned over the break room table.
“You alright there, Y/L/N?” Noah asks softly, nudging your arm, before taking a seat next to you.
“Hmm.” You raise your head up to look at him. There’s a sadness in his eyes when he looks at you, that you’re sure reflect back in your own, but he looks happier than you’ve seen him in a while. “Just got a lot on my mind.”
“I know the feeling.” He chuckles. “You ready for our last shift?”
“As ready as I’ll ever be, I guess.” You sigh before looking at him, feeling your insecurities creep up a little. “You’ll keep in touch, right? I mean, just because we won’t work together doesn’t mean we won’t be friends still.”
“You bet your ass I will!” He states, lightening the mood. “This maybe our last ride as EMS’ but you’ll always be my partner and friend, Y/N/N.”
You smile at him fondly and he pulls you into a hug. The moment is broken by the sound of the alarm ringing, and although you both know you should be running to grab your gear, you both just take a second to laugh out some of the tension. Then it’s back to work, just one more time.
Duffle bag with a few days’ worth of extra clothes and necessities- Check
Personal Items- Check
Med kit- Check
Other medical equipment on hand- Check
Stark Issued ID- Check
Mini breakdown and overthinking- Check
Ride to Stark Tower (Stark says the parking is better there than at the Compound)- Check
You take a deep breath as you triple check your to-do list. So far, it seems you didn’t forget anything. The sound of shoes heading towards you on the expensive tiled flooring has you look up to find Stark walking towards you with a big grin on his face.
“Good to see you again, Y/L/N.”
“You too, Stark.” You greet as you stand up, picking up your duffle bag and swinging it over your shoulder. “Where do we start?”
“Ah, listen.” He hesitates before motioning for you to follow him. “Before we do any of that, the Director wants to meet with you.” He waits for your reaction, watching you closely as you walk through the halls with him holding onto your small suitcase.
“Alright. Part of me kinda assumed you’d have a boss I’d need to talk to at some point.”
He scoffs slightly, then chuckles.
“Nick would love to be my boss. But he’s sort of the overseer of the Avengers.”
“Ah. So, he wants to make sure I’m not a security risk then?”
“Pretty much. Though, it’s hard to know exactly what he’s looking for. Man’s like a locked box sealed in vibranium.”
“Noted.” You chuckle as Stark leads you into a room.
“You must be the newest recruit. I’m glad he ran this one by me, at least.” A man with an eyepatch and dressed in all black says from the head of the table. “I heard of the last one just as the fighting started in an airport.
You chuckle as he stands up and walks towards you, extending his hand.
“Well, I hope to not disappoint.”
“From what I’ve heard, it’ll be rare if it happens. It’s nice to meet you, Y/L/N. Please have a seat.” He motions towards the empty chair across from him and you sit. “Your resume is pretty impressive for just a paramedic, Y/L/N. Five years of college education, a high MCAT score, but then you left and applied to be an EMT. You easily rose through the ranks at the station and had one of the highest success rates. Impressive. Of course, I have my questions. But I want to hear your story and why someone with your testing score became an EMT.”
You sigh, hoping all of this wouldn’t come up. You told Stark that you didn’t consider med school because of the tuition, but originally that wasn’t the case.
“When I first started at university, yes, my end goal was going into med school. But during my second year, my mother got sick. She never got much better, and I helped my family out with her bills as much as I could, but she still encouraged me to continue my education, so I did. I graduated and took the MCAT with her encouragement. She wasn’t alive long enough to see the results. And funerals are expensive. I moved to New York once I was financially stable again, my best friend came with me, and the rest is history.”
The room falls silent, and you can feel Stark’s eyes on you.
“Well Y/L/N, with your expertise, I’d like you to be out in the field. But you need to train with Romanoff first before you’re going on any missions. Once I get the ok from her, you’ll be traveling with the team in case there are any injuries from their missions.” You nod, already expecting this. “For now, I’d like you working with the medical staff, treating any minor injuries that are common around here.” Again, you nod. “Now I just need you to sign these forms, and this contract of employment.”
“Yes, sir.” You tell him, smiling, as you pick up the pen, wanting to get started.
You exit the room, biding Fury a goodbye and thank you, and follow Stark as he leads you through the tower.
“So, usually I’d show you everything you’d need to about the tower, but it’s all in here. It’s not too important right now.” He says, handing you a Stark Industries tablet. “You scared of heights, by chance?”
“I- uh- what? No, um, not really? Depending on how high up it is, I guess.” You stutter while your brain tries to catch up. The elevator doors open up in front of you.
“I’m going to say no then.” He says, typing something on his phone.
Without him even pressing a button, the elevators begin to ascend. You feel awkward as you shuffle on your feet, still stunned by everything.
“Tony, what is going on?” You eventually ask.
“Just jotting down a few notes in my phone.” He replies casually as the elevator chimes, completely ignoring what you meant. You falter as you exit, eyeing the small hanger you arrived at. “Oh, and our ride’s waiting.” He calls out, walking towards a Stark Industries helicopter.
You slowly follow after him, gaping like a fish.
“Come on, Y/L/N!" He calls out playfully. “There are places to go and super soldiers to see.” That has you sputtering before you send him a glare, making him chuckle.
With you and your luggage all loaded up, the engine starts up. At your confusion at the lack of a pilot, Tony explains how F.R.I.D.A.Y. is flying it. Soon, you’re both flying out of the tower. You turn your head to look out the window, and your mouth falls open in awe.
The entire New York skyline is laid out in before you as you move. Your eyes follow the buildings as they seem to slowly pass you by. You faintly hear Tony’s chuckle behind you, but it fades out of mind the longer you look.
The city eventually thins out and the countryside opens up in front of you. The steel and concrete buildings turn into greenery and winding rivers. And again, you were in awe. A glare from the sunlight caught your eye, making you blink a couple of times to clear your vision. You turned your head slightly to see what it was when you see the Compound. Again, you gape at the image, you’re sure it’s not something you’ll get used to. You’ve seen the front of the compound from the party, but seeing it from above is something else entirely.
All too soon, you two are landing. F.R.I.D.A.Y. goes through the landing procedures and the helicopter touches down with a small jostle. The noise of the engines dies down as Stark begins to unbuckle the seat belt. You follow suit while he helps you grabs your luggage.
“You ready for this, Y/L/N?” Stark asks, for the second time, as he straightens out his suit.
"Yeah." You sigh contently as you look towards him. "I am."
"Great!" He claps his hands together before setting off. You hurry to grab all your bags and follow after him.
The tour is quick as he points out the kitchen, gym, the team lounge, your room (where he lets you drop off your things), and the briefing room.
On the way to your final destination, the medical wing, Tony becomes uncharacteristically quiet. Though, you're not sure whether to ask, or to just let him tell you on his own. Before you turn around the next corner, he stops, and you look at him curiously.
"I was, uh, thinking that if you, um, wanted to enroll in a medical program to get your MD while you worked here, you could. Outside of going on missions, in due time, there really isn't that much you have to do here. You could even take it here and have Dr. Cho supervise you. It’d be part of your job too so you wouldn’t have to pay for it."
"Thanks Tony, but I don't know. I'll think about it." You say.
He nods and continues moving again. Around the corner, two glass doors come into view and you can already begin to see into the medical wing. You're so amazed at all the advanced equipment that you tune Stark out, accidentally, for a couple of moments. Everything looks so cool, you’re excited to get started.
"And this here is Dr. Cho. She'll be your new department boss."
"Oh." You turn, seeing a kind looking woman in front of you. "It's a pleasure to meet you Dr. Cho. I'm really excited to get started here."
"The pleasure is all mine. I'm looking forward to it as well. And please, call me Helen."
You nod, a bright smile on your face. Tony begins to speak, only to be interrupted by F.R.I.D.A.Y.
"There's been a minor training incident reported in the gym. Mr. Wilson is requesting medical treatment for Sergeant Barnes and Captain Rogers."
You groan quietly as Dr. Cho starts moving.
"Hey, Doc?" Stark calls, stopping Helen from moving. "Y/L/N here can take care of Tin Man."
You turn to give Tony a small glare at the amusement in his tone. Helen hesitates but nods anyways, asking if you need anything. When you tell her, she hands you a similar med kit to the one she carries and leads you both towards the gym, Stark at your heels.
"Not a word, Stark." You say on our way, missing the weird look Dr. Cho sends you.
He scoffs in mock offense but says nothing else, you smile softly knowing he will anyways.
You enter the gym and immediately see a small circle of people, agents, outside of the training mat. When they see Helen approaching, they part showing Sam kneeling next to Steve and a fiery redhead you can only assume is Ms. Romanoff by Bucky. You click your tongue in disappointment and turn to Tony.
"Maybe the bubble wrap wasn't such a bad idea for him." You say, just loud enough to catch the attention of the circle.
He laughs loudly and you hear a faint 'Oh, you're in trouble' from Wilson.
"I'll make the adjustments to his suit." Tony snickers.
"Not fair." Bucky groans from the floor, and you subconsciously pick up the pace a little.
"What happened this time?" You sigh, taking Ms. Romanoff's spot on the floor besides him.
"No bedside manner this time, doc?" He quips, avoiding your question.
"You know I never have it when I comes to your dumbass. So what happened?" Sam snorts, though he tries to cover it with a cough. Bucky groans.
"That punk is what happened. Was his idea." He says, pointing slightly to Steve, who makes a noise of offence from his spot on the floor.
"No, no. Don't try to pin this all on me, you jerk. Sam encouraged."
"Hell yeah I did! It was one of your dumbest and best ideas this past month."
"Not helping, Wilson." Both Bucky and Steve groan, though Bucky calls him 'pigeon man'.
"Barnes." You hiss, getting slightly impatient with him avoiding the question.
Either sensing your irritation, or knowing he wouldn't say right away, or both, Ms. Romanoff joins in.
"The idiots, Barnes and Nobles, thought it would be a good idea to try and run full speed at each other while both holding big yoga balls. Sam didn't stop them." You take a quick glance around, not seeing any yoga balls off to the side but rather scraps of colored rubber. "Needless to say, didn't turn out how they expected, but I now have amazing blackmail on my phone."
"Thanks for the concern, Nat." Steve groans.
"You two are idiots." You grumble under your breath, but you know they heard it based on the looks on their faces. "What hurts, Barnes?"
"My heart for sure. My ego maybe a bit too." You roll your eyes at him while riffling through the med kit. "But seriously, my back and the back of my head."
"See, that wasn't so hard." You sass back, grabbing the stethoscope and taking his vitals. "Any headache, sleepiness, nausea, dizziness? Ringing of the ears?"
He groans, shifting. "Slight headache, I guess. Feeling slightly tired. And I'm not sure about the other ones."
"You might have a minor concussion then. Do you feel any other pain somewhere besides your back?"
"My arms a little. And my pride." He answers with a huff, you shake your head at him.
"You're lucky it's nothing worse Bucky." You scold lightly.
"Doll, I'm always lucky when I have you taking care of me."
You feel heat warm your cheeks and look away so he doesn't catch you blushing. If it was possible for you to melt by his words alone, you'd already be a puddle underneath him. Now there's some place you'd like to be.
"You were you always this charming to women back in your day?" You joke, earning you a small smile.
"Depended on the dame, honestly." You roll your eyes at that damn smirk of his, but again, can't help but smile slightly at him. It's that stupid handsome face of his!
You make idle conversation with Bucky, and even Steve, as you and Cho bring them back to the med bay. Honestly, if this is your job, if this is what you’ll be doing, you’re not too worried. This is easy, you can handle this. Besides, what's the worst that can happen like this?
Three months in, and you were totally loving your job. During week one, you moved out of your shared apartment with your friend, as the commute was ridiculous, and you had a room at the Compound already. She agreed but not before making you promise to see each other as often as you could. By week two you realized Tony was right, besides training and treating minor injuries in the compound, there wasn't must for you to do.
So, you retook your MCAT, applied to the medical program associated with Stark Industries, and now you're a full-time student. But the best part is that you're allowed to take the course at your own pace, in case missions or emergencies were to come up. Thankfully, nothing bad had happened recently. Bucky wasn't getting hurt that much either. Only little cuts and nicks from missions or training incidents. And of course, you gave him shit for it too.
The one thing you didn't like was the physical training Natasha put you through. You always left feeling sore and uncoordinated, much like right now.
You groan as you reach for your gym bag, your muscles screaming. Surprisingly enough, you managed not to fall onto the mat as much as you usually did during training. Natasha noticed as well, giving you praise. You begin to fill up your water bottle, taking note of who's in the gym now, when you notice him. Seriously, it should be illegal to look that fucking good!
The gym shorts he wears does nothing to hide his massively thick and gorgeous thighs. His tank top is so tight, you think you can see the outline of his abs, or that might be your imagination. And good god does his long hair look cute in that little bun of his. He crosses his arms, and your attention is immediately drawn to the bulging muscle of his arms.
Biceps. Biceps. Biceps. Biceps. Biceps. Female hand. Wait, female hand?!
You move your gaze from Bucky’s gorgeous physique, sadly, to the female agent who’s touching him, well, flirting with him. Bucky attempts to step back but realizes he’s already leaning on the wall, leaving him trapped.
The feeling of cold water hitting your hand, snaps you back to the bottle you were refilling that's now overflowing. You curse silently to yourself, drink the excess water, and cap it hoping no one noticed your gawking. When you look back at Bucky, he's still trapped and looking more uncomfortable by the second.
"Hey Barnes!" You call out, drawing both the attention of Bucky and the agent.
His shoulders immediately relax, and he grins your way as you walk over to them.
"I thought I told you to call me Bucky, doll." He teases, you shrug.
"Seems as if I'm usually yelling at you for hurting yourself, again and again. So I guess Barnes just stuck." Bucky makes a face and you can't help but chuckle.
"Reminds me of how the teachers used to scold me back in the day." He says with a slight grimace. You laugh.
"You? Get in trouble?" You gasp in mock surprise. "Why, I could never see that happening."
Someone clearing their throat interrupts Bucky and you can see the annoyance briefly flicker across his features. You both turn towards the agent that was shamelessly flirting with him. You suppress an eyeroll at the look of irritation on her face.
"Oh, hi. I didn't notice you standing there." You tell her with a forced smile and as much politeness in your voice as you can muster. Bucky coughs behind you, trying to cover up a laugh. "I'm Y/N."
She rolls her eyes.
"We were kinda having a conversation here before you interrupted." She sneers. Okay, so we're avoiding the politeness all together. Game on.
"Oh? Really?" You say, acting surprised. " Must have been some conversation if you couldn't wait for me to finish greeting my friend here." You say, motioning towards Bucky.
She scoffs, but before she can say anything, you feel two hands on your waist. One warm, and one cold.
"Is that all we are, doll?" He asks softly in your ear, sending a pleasant chill down your spine. "Because if I'm remembering correctly, I owe you a drink."
You lean back into his hold, hands resting over his, gym back currently forgotten on the floor, turning to look at him. Your heart skips a beat as you realize just how close he is, and your gaze flickers to his lips. There's heat pooling in your core like the start of a fire, and you just know this man is capable of ruining you. Embarrassingly, it takes several moments to remember what he said to you.
"Several." You breathe, eyes finding his. And holy shit, you knew his eyes were blue, but you think you can drown in those steel blue eyes of his and the emotions they hold.
Suddenly you're not sure if this is a dream or not, all thoughts of the other agent gone, not realizing she already walked away. The intensity in his eyes is almost overwhelming, but this time, you're not going to run away.
"S'a shame that we've waited so long." You hum in reply, eyes falling back to his perfect lips. "And don't worry," He starts, forehead resting on yours, lips brushing against you own as he speaks, "No one else caught what happened at the water fountain." You groan, eyes falling closed as your head falls to his shoulder while he laughs, tightening his grip on your waist.
"Hoping nobody saw that." You mumble into his shoulder, tilting your head to look at him, only to find him already looking at you.
"So," You sigh, lifting your head off his shoulder, "When are you going to buy me that drink?" You turn in his hold to face him, your arms coming to wrap around his waist.
He chuckles, his right hand coming to brush a strand of hair off your forehead.
"Saturday?" He asks hopefully, and suddenly seeming really shy.
"Saturday it is." You reply with a cheeky smile before kissing him on the cheek and walking out of his hold, no matter how much it pains you to do so. "Pick me up at 8. And I better not see you in the med bay before that. Can't have you missing this because your ability to injure yourself."
He laughs as you pick up your bag, turn around, throw a wink over your shoulder, and add a little sway to your hips as you leave. The grin on your face not leaving anytime soon.
Saturday morning rolled in and instead of feeling excitement for your upcoming date, dread sat heavy in your gut. For some reason, you knew something bad was going to happen today. It felt like you had to constantly look over your shoulder. No one else seemed to have the same feeling, or no one acknowledged it. But it was making you more worried by the minute.
You busy yourself in the med bay of the tower looking out over the city, studying for an upcoming exam before you had to get dressed for your night out with Bucky. Cho and a few of the Avengers were working from the tower instead of the Compound, you just happened to have some training schedule with Cho that you completed not too long ago. Despite the dread, you still smiled at the thought of seeing Bucky later. And like you wanted, you were distracted from the fear you felt. Until you were.
That's when you saw it. Movement caught your eye and you turned, unprepared to see the cloud of smoke and fire rising in the air in the distance. Your mouth hung open. The vibrations came a second later, and the alarms a second after that.
The loud noise was enough to get you moving.
"F.R.I.D.A.Y. where's Stark or Rogers?!" You shouted as you began running towards the former's lab.
"Boss is currently on the way to the hanger, Captain Rogers is heading your way."
He rounded the corner quickly and you wait for him before falling into step with the super soldier.
"Explosion in the city. I saw it." Is all you say. He nods. "What do you need me to do?"
"Suit up and get to the hanger. There's going to be casualties." He says in his 'captain voice'.
You nod before peeling away from him and heading towards the armory. Tony had designed you a suit for when you went out into the field. You didn't think you'd be needing it this soon. You open the locker Tony had told you about, finding the suit hanging up. Normally, you'd admire the white suit with black accents, but you're kind of in a rush. The suit, you notice as you put it on, has a bright red cross on the shoulder and instead of weapons in the small pockets are various medical supplies that you told Tony you might need in the field.
You quickly zip the suit up, haphazardly throw your hair up into a ponytail, and reach inside the locker for your field kit. You run to the hanger as quickly as you can, seeing the Quinjet being prepped and the Captain waiting with Wanda Maximoff.
"Stark already took off to survey the damage. Wanda, your job is to help remove the debris and any remaining fires. Stark and I will see if any explosives are involved and if there's more. Y/L/N, I don't need to tell you what to do." He instructs as you enter the jet.
You nod, swallowing the lump in your throat, and preparing yourself for the worst. Wanda hands you an earpiece as the jet takes off, the Captain flying. It takes all of thirty seconds before you're touching down. Just as the ramp begins to lower, you hear what you think is a faint boom. F.R.I.D.A.Y.'s voice is speaking through the earpiece not a second later.
"There has been another explosion in Times Square. Reports of hostiles engaging with civilians as well."
You look to the Captain in horror, waiting for his instructions.
"Jesus, okay everyone listen up. Y/N and Wanda, stay on task." You nod, starting to run out of the quinjet, Wanda following you. "Sam get to the first location as quickly as possible. Stark and everyone else-"
His voice fades as you take in the scene around you, jaw open in disbelief and horror. Union Square. You hadn't been there often, but it had always been crowded. The perfect target.
A thin layer of smoke covers the air, making it more difficult to breathe. People scream, wail, cry. In fear or in pain, you're not sure. Fires burn in the trees and the once beautiful park looks like something out of a horror movie. As you look around, you realize there are no first responders here yet. You are the first responder on the scene.
You push the horror down in your gut and allow the familiar adrenaline to drive you forward and into gear. Ignoring the people on the outskirts of the blast, although it makes your heart clench in pain as they cry out and reach for you, you quickly venture towards what looks like the epicenter of the blast.
"Wanda, I need you to put the fires out and quickly. I'm going to be needing help.” You call out. When you don’t hear a reply after a few moments, you turn around finding her frozen in what you could only describe as pure disbelief and horror. "Wanda!" You shout, catching her attention. Your heart clenches when you see the shine of unshed tears in her eyes, but it isn't the time to cry, not yet. "Work now, feel later! Get the fires under control." You command, knowing she needs that push into action. And it works.
You turn back around and start checking the people around you; seeing who's dead, who is beyond saving, and who you can help. You hate triaging, but you know if you don't do it more people could die. You finally find someone to help. You snap your gloves on just as you hear the sirens in the distance. You're getting help soon.
You don't look away from your current patient, applying a tourniquet to help stop the bleeding, when you hear the jets of Wilson's wings. You don't look up as he runs towards you.
"I've tagged the ones I've examined but I have so many to go over. Start triaging the ones I haven't looked at and tag them approximately for EMS'. Help as many as you can." You instruct.
He acknowledges your order and then gets to work, opening what you think is another med kit. Wanda comes over to you to help you work on your current patient when the EMTs and other first responders arrive.
Several sets of shoes begin running through the victims tagging them and getting to work. It's only when someone stops in front of you that you look up.
Normally you'd smile at seeing those from your old squad, but in this situation, you're too focused on your job. You tell Wanda to apply pressure on a victim's wound. Jake and his partner stand there, waiting for an update.
"These three," You start, loud enough for the other EMS' near you to hear as well, "Need an ambulance. Reds. The four behind me are black tags. I haven't even gotten any further." You tell them, exhaustion beginning to creep in, the adrenaline helping to keep it at bay.
They nod, shouting orders and requests as you and Wanda move onto another one. The only thing you focus on is the triage of those who are red tags and those who are blacks or who are close to becoming black tags. The other EMS' can deal with the yellows and greens. You're so focused, you don't notice the black van that pulls up.
It's only when a gun goes off that you notice them. The red symbols on their sleeves very prominent.
Another shot goes off, people scream, you see Clarissa jerk back then fall, before a red shield is raised between the victims and the attackers. The fear freezes the blood in your veins until someone is shaking you.
"Hey!" Sam shouts, making you blink then look at him. "You worry about the injured, we'll take care of HYDRA."
You nod, watching as he runs towards the fight, shake your head to clear the fog, then jog towards where Clarissa fell.
"Focus on the victims! Get them out of here!" You yell, gaining the attention of the paralyzed EMS'. You hear Jake and a few other people that you know shouting out instructions over the gun shots, but you're just focused on the sight of Clarissa, ignoring the chaos around you. She's breathing and luckily, she was able to prevent her head from hitting the pavement underneath her. She's a patient. Just a patient. Focus and get to work.
You kneel beside her, ignoring the chaos around you, ripping open her turnout gear in hopes of finding where she was hit. When you get through everything, it's not difficult to spot the wound, especially because she's got her own hand over it. Blood begins pooling rapidly on her abdomen and you quickly cover it with your palm. She cries out at the feeling. With your palm still firmly over the wound, you tilt her slightly in hopes of finding an exit wound. When you find it, you immediately bunch up some cloth from her gear and gently lay her on it to help slow the bleeding.
"Shit." You curse under your breath, rifling through your kit. "This is going to hurt." You warn her. She nods quickly, and you give her something to bite down on.
You wrap some gauze covered in a clotting agent into a small roll, then quickly begin pushing it into the wound with your finger. You tense as you hear her muffled screams but keep going. When it's in most of the way in, you let go only to press you hand back firmly on the wound. She stops screaming but still manages to whimper and pant from exhaustion and pain as you continue to work.
You seal a bandaged over the entrance wound, making sure to do the same to her exit wound. You lay her back down, slowly, wiping a sweat-drenched piece of hair off her forehead. Your other hand reaches for her wrist to feel her pulse. Her skin feels cooler that it should be, and her pulse is slowing down.
"It's ok. I'm done now. It's ok. You're going to be ok." You tell her with an apologetic smile, grabbing her hand. She nods again and you feel the familiar burn of tears in your eyes but shake your head and take a deep breath. Now is not the time!
"I missed seeing you. At the station. So thank you." She says quietly, with a pained smile before her eyes close softly.
You didn't realize before, but it had gotten quiet. The fight was over. The police arrived too, as well as more paramedics were looking over the victims. A few seconds later Clarissa is being loaded onto a stretcher and you're left sitting on the pavement, hand out as if you were still holding hers. But you're not looking where they took her away, you just stare at the blood coating the latex gloves you wear. It's almost as if it's staining your own hands.
A hand on your shoulder makes you jump, and you turn around to find Sam standing over you, looking down with concern. You try to smile at him, though you're sure it comes out as a grimace, before ripping the gloves off your hands.
You gather up for stuff, pick yourself off the ground, then walk back to the Quinjet, not speaking to anyone. Wanda walks in right after, then quietly sits down in the space next to you. Without a word, she leans into your shoulder, and you pull her into a hug, neither of you even thinking about the blood and dirt on your clothes. Sam comes in next, looks at the two of you, then heads to the cockpit. You don't even notice when the jet takes off, or lands for that matter. It's only when Sam comes to stand in front of you that you learn you're back at the Compound.
You and Wanda stiffly walk out and toward the common room. It's only then that you notice everyone was back too. But something seemed wrong.
Steve was agitated, Natasha looked worried, and you never expected to see that expression on her face, Tony was talking, no, shouting into his phone in the other room, and Bucky was... where was he?
"Is Bucky in his room?" You ask, tiredly, speaking for the first time since Clarissa had talked to you.
All eyes turn to you, and you can't help but grow uncomfortable. No one speaks.
"What?" You look around, that sinking feeling of dread back. Your eyes find Steve's. The helplessness in his eyes has the dread being replaced by fear. "Steve, where is Bucky?"
"He- they uh-"
"They got him, Y/N." Natasha interrupts. You turn towards her, sure that you heard her wrong. "When we got there, it was pure chaos. And we split up. By the time we realized something wasn't right. He, he was already gone."
You blink at her.
"No. No, you're wrong. Bucky wouldn't have let them take him. You guys just didn't see him. He's probably still there." You argue.
"He's not Y/N." Steve says. "They got him."
A hand touches your shoulder again and you immediately flinch away, turning towards your room. The noises around you turn to static, and your body moves on autopilot. You just about register the sheets underneath you as you sit on your bed, not caring about the blood, not really caring about anything. Your nose and eyes burn, and you don't stop yourself from crying, sobbing.
He can’t be gone. But he is. And he was going to miss your date.
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𝐖𝐞’𝐥𝐥 𝐌𝐞𝐞𝐭 𝐀𝐠𝐚𝐢𝐧 | 𝐁𝐮𝐜𝐤𝐲 𝐁𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐞𝐬
𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐕𝐈𝐈𝐈- 𝐈’𝐥𝐥 𝐍𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐒𝐦𝐢𝐥𝐞 𝐀𝐠𝐚𝐢𝐧
Chapter VII | Series Masterlist
Word Count: 2.7k
Warnings: DEATH, dead body mention (nothing graphic). Major depression and grief. I’m sorry (I’d elaborate more but spoilers). I will say that this chapter goes deep into the feelings of grief, so if that is a sensitive topic for you, this is your warning.
A/N: Remember a few weeks ago when I said that one of my own works made me cry? Well… this chapter may or may not be what broke me. I’m sorry.
Some days taking care of Rebecca were good, some weren’t. It was odd how familiar the entire thing felt- helping her bathe, feeding her when she wasn’t able to feed herself, petting her hair until she fell asleep, it all reminded you of when she was a baby. Not much had changed, only now she could form coherent sentences. That is, if she had enough energy to do so.
When she did talk, she told you everything about her life, even more than she did when you were just a friend to her. She talked about her college days, about Rose- she really did love her, and it killed you that you never got to meet her- and she’d talk about her parents. There were so many people who loved Rebecca, so many people who made her who she was. It hurt like hell knowing you weren’t one of them until now, but more than anything, you wished that every single one of them were still here so you could meet them and thank them. Thank them for making her who she was, for taking care of your baby girl. Rebecca was raised by strangers to you, but they did a pretty damn good job doing it. You couldn’t help but wonder how different she would’ve turned out had you or Bucky never gone missing.
Rebecca gently shut her eyes, signaling that you could relax for a few hours while she slept. If it’d been any other person, you’d be off the clock. You’d be tired and worn out. But this was your baby. You would go to the ends of the earth and beyond to make sure she was healthy. After kissing her forehead gently- something you did every time she fell asleep as a baby- you made your way out to the living room, where Bucky was sat waiting for you.
“How’s our little girl doing?” he asked. You plopped next to him, his arm instinctively wrapping around you as you cuddled into his side. Over the time the two of you had spent together, Bucky remembered more and more about you. First, he remembered your wedding. Then the day you met, the many nights he’d knock on your door in the middle of the night just to kiss you, and nearly all of your pregnancy. The memory that hurt the most was saying goodbye to you, right before he left for the last time.
Oh, how he wished things were different. He wished he could turn back time, fake being sick and never go to war in the first place. He’d live out his days with you, taking care of Rebecca until he took his last breath, hopefully with his two best girls by his side. His aura was so full of love and warmth every time he was around the two of you, he always felt warm and fuzzy every time he looked back and thought about the 40s. He liked those days. But that was a completely different life. The one he was living now, though he was trying to get that warm and fuzzy feeling back, didn’t feel the same. He still loved you, he knew that for a fact. But he couldn’t help but feel like this wasn’t the life he was meant to live.
“She’s still running a fever.” You said, “But don’t worry, she’s still our happy girl.”
Bucky kissed the top of your head. He didn’t want to imagine what was likely about to happen. He couldn’t avoid it, as much as he wanted to. But he told himself that no matter how bad it got, no matter how hurt he felt, he would help you through it. You were the one to carry her for nine months, feel her kick from inside of you, nurse her and sing her to sleep as a baby. You were the one who managed to find her after all this, and now you were the one taking care of her again. You were in for a world of hurt, and though you were denying it and remaining positive, Bucky couldn’t avoid the truth.
Allowing yourself to relax for the first time all day, you listened as Bucky talked about his latest mission with Sam. To your objections, Bucky continued fighting. You were upset by his decision to keep putting himself in danger, but after hearing why he wanted to continue, there was no talking him out of it. He felt as though he owed the world something- something good. He’d spent decades hurting others- becoming an Avenger was his way of repaying his debts and clearing his guilty conscience.
You felt your eyes get heavy and your mind start to wander. Slowly, Bucky’s words began to fade, and you took in a deep sigh. You hardly got to relax like this anymore, with all the worrying, fighting, and working. The couch was too comfortable, Bucky’s body was just warm enough, and you dozed off. Bucky couldn’t even be upset, he knew how hard you worked and that you deserved to rest. Plus, you looked adorable as you slept, he couldn’t take his eyes off of you.
Bucky often found himself wondering how you still chose to be with him. After everything, you still saw him as who he used to be and who he had the potential of becoming. You didn’t see the monster HYDRA made him. You didn’t see the man who’d killed hundreds of people. You still chose to be his life partner, seeing him as your downstairs neighbor from Brooklyn who you fell in love with. Tracing your jawline with his finger, Bucky couldn’t help but think about how strong you were compared to him. Taking care of Rebecca, helping him remember his old life, adjusting almost immediately to a new life and continuing to be wonderful and kind- you could handle anything, and you did it all without him. That, above everything, made him fall deeper in love with you.
Gently, Bucky picked you up bridal style and moved you to your new bedroom. Since moving into Rebecca’s house to take care of her, Bucky let you have the only other bedroom while he slept on the floor in the living room. He still considered himself your husband, he was still very much in love with you- but he didn’t want you to be there when his nightmares came. They were worse than they were before. Now that he was remembering his life with you, he was also remembering all the years in between the 40s and now. All the people he’d hurt, all the lives he’d taken. You always told him that you had no problem with him sleeping next to you, but he knew it was for your own good. He didn’t feel deserving of a bed, and would much rather take the floor, in a room where you couldn’t hear or feel him wake up.
Three hours had gone by. Three peaceful hours. Bucky had managed to get a few minutes of shuteye, and you were particularly comfortable in the spot Bucky had tucked you in. Your alarm went off to check on Becca, one you set every three hours in the night, just to check if she needed anything. Bucky heard the familiar alarm from the bedroom, followed by the door opening and your footsteps heading over to Rebecca’s room.
This life you led with Bucky, it had a funny way of working. The minute things started to feel perfect, something just had to be taken away.
Bucky’s eyelids started to get heavy again, the idea of getting a few more minutes of sleep in creeping into his mind. Then he heard you wail from the bedroom, and he was immediately on his feet, any feeling of tiredness gone the second he heard your distress.
He ran as quickly as he could to the main bedroom, eyes fixated on you crying in front of Rebecca’s bed. Rebecca looked exactly as she did when she fell asleep. She hadn’t moved a single muscle.
Rebecca was gone. His biggest fear, the inevitable, had become a reality.
“No, no, no,” you kept repeating, a sob emitting from the back of your throat. This was the deepest, most guttural pain you’d ever felt. Like someone had stabbed you in your heart and ripped it out with their bare hand. You knew this would happen. You knew it had to happen, Rebecca was in her seventies, but you wanted so badly for it to never happen. That she would live forever, or at least until after you and Bucky were gone. Not now. Not like this.
You heard Bucky crying with you. He was holding you while you cried and screamed into his chest, painfully listening and holding onto you.
Your baby, the old woman who you were able to identify from a mile away as your daughter, was gone. Your heart ached as it shattered in your chest, leaving broken pieces that were beyond repair. That baby who you’d worked so hard for, who you loved with every ounce of you and more, who lived an entire life that you were so proud of. Gone overnight.
When the coroner came, you felt nothing but numbness. You watched as they took Rebecca off of her bed and onto the stretcher, though Bucky could tell it would’ve been better if you looked away. You had to lie through your tears, saying you and Bucky were her caretakers. Not her parents- that was Edward and Marjorie, and they were long gone. Only you and Bucky knew the complicated truth, and you wanted to scream it out to the world, but it would only make things worse.
Though your heart still ached every day you were without her, and you found yourself randomly crying throughout your days, you found a little more comfort every day. It wasn’t the same kind of comfort you once knew, and you knew it was likely you’d never feel the same way again, but little things added up. You found support through Bucky, Steve, Sam, Natasha, and everyone else at the Compound. They made it clear to you and Bucky that you always had a home with them. And though you weren’t ready to step back into Rebecca’s home just yet, you knew you had a room at the Compound waiting for you.
The room was just as bare as it was when you left it, not a single indication that anyone had ever lived here or put any effort into decorating it. You ended up exactly where you started, confused and lonely in a bare room. Only now, you had one of the people you’d been yearning for. And while having Bucky was great, he didn’t fill the void that Rebecca had left behind.
Bucky approached you slowly, watching you reach into your pocket for the folded up picture of Rebecca’s first birthday. She’d given it to you shortly after you told her the truth, claiming you needed it more than she did.
“You hungry?” Bucky asked, wrapping his arms around you from behind, “We can go somewhere if you want.”
He was trying his best. He didn’t know what he could do or say to make you feel better. He didn’t know what anyone else could do or say to make him feel better. He lost his daughter, too. Bucky felt the numbness. The void. The heartache. And he wanted more than anything to make it go away; if not for him, then for you.
“How do people move on?” you asked, placing the picture in front of you on the mantle and looking at it. You looked so happy. So did Bucky. Rebecca’s first birthday was a day you’d always remember- one of your last happy memories before things went south. More than anything, you wanted to go back. To hold your baby one more time, to live in that ignorant bliss. “After a loss like this? You see it in the news, people losing their children. I would think ‘If that ever happened to me,’” you shook your head, at a loss for words as you looked at the ground, “and now here I am.”
Bucky held you a little tighter as you tried to hold back the tears. You didn’t know you were capable of producing so many until now. But with the quiver of your lip, and the tears blurring your vision, you had no choice but to break. Turning around to face Bucky, you buried your head in his chest. “I just want my life back, James. I want things to be the way they used to. Before everything.”
Bucky’s heart was already broken the minute he saw Rebecca, but hearing your words and how hurt and hopeless you sounded, it only made the damage worse. Both of you had produced enough tears to fill an ocean, and you knew that pain would stay as long as both of you were still alive.
“I don’t know what I can say to make you feel better, I’m just as lost as you are.” Bucky admitted, his voice nearly a whisper, “But I love you. And I love her. Nothing will ever change that.” He pressed a soft kiss on your forehead.
“I’m not hungry.”
“I’m just tired.” You found yourself saying that a lot. To avoid talking to anyone or hearing the overwhelming amount of condolences you were receiving, you slept. It seemed like all you ever did was sleep nowadays.
“Okay. I’ll let you rest.” Bucky said, pulling away before you stopped him.
“Can you stay? Please?” You had a hint of desperation in your eyes.
Bucky always seemed to be unable to say no to you. Even back then, the very idea of upsetting you took a toll on him, so he always bent over backwards to make sure your needs were met. On your first date when he stole an apple for you- he was perfectly capable of buying one for you himself, but he wanted to see you smile. When you were pregnant, all the times he’d make his way to the convenience store at an ungodly hour because you were craving Peppermint Patties- he was on a first-name basis with the owner and he was about as involved in your pregnancy as Bucky was with how often he bought the candies from him. And now. Your heart was in pieces. You’d just experienced the biggest heartbreak imaginable, a heartbreak no person should ever go through. And you were asking him to stay with you. To lay in the same bed as you. He had to oblige, because if it made you feel just an ounce better, it was worth it.
He laid in bed next to you, stiff on the mattress that was a little too soft for comfort. No matter, he could ignore it for now.
You wrapped your arm around Bucky, holding onto him in a spooning position that made your heart feel slightly better.
The idea of peace seemed far away. Maybe it would never come at all. Right now, despite holding onto your husband and feeling the bond you two created decades ago grow stronger, you felt as though you would never feel truly happy again. There was still a pain that would never leave. But there was an understanding between you and Bucky that things would always be different now, and that you’d have to help each other through all the low moments.
But you knew you would help each other. You were all Bucky had, and he was all you had now. So you held onto him tight, fearing that if you let go, he would just be another thing you would lose in this new, harsh reality.
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At the hospital
Bucky: I'm sensing you're angry with me.
Sam: You nearly died on me.
Sam: You did, they told me.
Bucky: What? They can't to that!
Bucky: Is there no privacy here?
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The babygirlification of bucky barnes 😌
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HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO ME!!!! Thank you Bucky for bringing my cake, hahaha. Miss them!
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