#the way that this scene radiates comfort
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Winter Soldier Sketches
Listen, I'm of course very happy he got to heal and grow and find himself but... 2014 Bucky was a look.
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Bucky Barnes being slightly pissed off
The Falcon and The Winter Soldier (2021)
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SEBASTIAN STAN as BUCKY BARNES in
The Falcon and The Winter Soldier | 1.05
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THE FALCON AND THE WINTER SOLDIER
1.05 Truth | Dir. Kari Skogland
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Behind the Scenes of Marvel Movies
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"mess with the clock and get the glock, b*tch"
"this is not a threat hunny... it's a warning”
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Steve: D-do you want a napkin?
Bucky: ... yeah
Voted for by my patrons: patreon.com/leehanji
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Delicate Edges (2)
series summary: Trapped under a mountain of debt to the Hydra club, it is only in moments when Bucky walks into your flower shop that you forget the cruelty of the biker clubs of this town. But a war is brewing. And Bucky will stop at nothing to keep you safe. (Biker!AU)
pairing: Bucky x reader
chapter word count: 5.4k
chapter warnings: meet the gang!, Bucky is a charming little shit, fluff city baby!!, (no legitimate warnings this chapter)
a/n: Thank you so much for all the love and support on part 1!! Please enjoy some complementary fluff as a little treat 😘
series masterlist / series playlist
Bucky leaned over the edge of the bar, swirling his last sip of bottom shelf whiskey around the glass. He watched as the amber liquid slid up along the sides, chasing its own shape in an endless loop as a few droplets coaxed over the edge and touched his fingers. Slowly, he stilled his hand and the whiskey sank back to the bottom. Alcohol was usually a pretty efficient method to take his mind from his troubles. The comfort of a warm burn down the back of his throat and through his chest, the lingering buzz in his head as he swallowed the last drops.
Only this time, his troubles came in the form of a woman. Stronger than you’d given yourself credit for, the ability to smile and laugh even with the ghosted imprint of a hand on your wrist. Charming and lovely and certainly the opposite of the sort of trouble Bucky was used to.
Perhaps, that was the problem. Because Bucky couldn’t get you off his mind.
He knew the flower shop you lived above. His mother was once a frequent patron of May Flowers back when Bucky was a kid. Every Sunday like clockwork, she’d take him by the hand and lead him inside the shop. He’d tug and twist at the suit she’d dressed him in because no eight-year-old kid wanted to be constricted by that much fabric, but it was important to show respect, she’d told him. He distinctly remembered thinking that where they were going, no one was going to notice or care whether he was in a suit or basketball shorts. Cemetaries were quiet that like.
Regardless of what Bucky wanted, he showed up with his mother and stood in the corner of the shop staring at the rows of poppies until she finished chatting with the owners. They were a nice sort of people, Bucky remembered. Always kind enough to ask how he was doing and smile in his direction when most adults barely acknowledged the kid shuffling behind his mother’s legs. The woman gave him a hard candy most Sundays and that was usually enough to shut him up about the suit.
Those must have been your parents. He remembered seeing a little girl running around behind the counter, picking up stray petals and imperfect flowers to make a bouquet of her own. Red bow in her hair and the echo of giggling carrying over the low hum of Simon & Garfunkel on the radio.
He didn’t remember exactly when he stopped going around. It happened slow, over time. Sometimes things came up on a Sunday here and there, and soon they were going once a month, until they weren’t going at all.
It was harder for his mother to see the headstone, Bucky realized years later when he found her crying quietly to herself over a picture she’d found tucked away in a drawer. He hadn’t known his father well, having spent most of Bucky’s life stationed overseas, so he didn’t know what to feel when the man passed. His mother did her best, but she crumbled every so often. Bucky didn’t mind helping her pick up the pieces when she did.
As a teenager, he’d often swing by May Flowers to bring his mother a bouquet of lilies on the days he knew would be harder for her.
His father’s birthday. Their wedding anniversary. The day the men in suits showed up at the front door and made his mother cry.
He offered polite smiles to the kind woman behind the counter and the man huddled in the back making new arrangements for the windows. You, then a teenager yourself, were laid upon the floor, making a flower crown of the discarded stems your father tossed aside.
After Bucky enlisted in his early twenties, he had a standing order with the shop to keep up his usual deliveries for his mother. Every so often, he’d ask they have some sent to the cemetery for his father. He never told his mother that he did that, but he knew it would make her happy. Even from the desert, that flower shop still kept a hold on him.
May Flowers had been such a significant piece of his life for so long, he wasn’t sure what to make of its return. Part of him longed to walk by again, see the rows of blue flowers along the curb and the scent of florals in the air as he stepped inside. He even wondered if perhaps he might see you behind the counter – the little girl with stray petals and unwanted stems now running the business herself.
But Bucky knew better than to risk stepping foot into the west side.
He brushed his hand over the tattoo on his bicep, tracing over the lines hidden between the delicate art, folded carefully along the design; the name he’d given his chosen family – this rough, lost group of people who found themselves drawn into the ragged old bar he’d called the Centenarian and never had the good sense about them to leave.
Named after his grandfather’s infantry in the second world war – the men who had been taken prisoner behind enemy lines and had the gull to survive. His mother once told him that his father had the numbers tattooed over his heart in roman numerals. Perhaps giving the number to the name of his club was a way of keeping both of them alive. The 107 lived on through the mess of strangers in a bar with a trail of bikes out on the street that had become something more than family.
“You’re looking awfully pensive.”
Bucky looked up from his empty glass to find Steve pulling up a chair on his left. He wore a line etched above his brow that made it evident he knew something was on Bucky’s mind – something more than the drunk he’d chased down the previous night and locked up in county jail. The cops were useless and barley said a word as Bucky escorted the man into the cell himself and threw the keys in the donut box on the front desk on his way out.
Steve knew Bucky better than most. Growing up fighting in alleys together would do that to a pair of kids. Especially if one had a painfully stupid habit of provoking fights he couldn’t win in the name of moral superiority. Steve wasn’t always the wide shouldered, All-American Adonis he was now. He used to be a hell of a lot smaller. And sicker. And less of a nosy asshole.
“You’re thinking of crossing the border, aren’t you?” the low, sultry voice of Natasha Romanoff carried from across the bar. She was watching from her place in the corner, nursing a glass of vodka neat as she raised a single eyebrow in his direction.
The thing about Natasha was that she noticed everything; including the moment he’d spotted two shadowed figures under a streetlamp from the window of the bar and sprinted out the front door in the middle of a Billy Joel chorus. She hadn’t said a word, but she’d noticed how his keys were a little lighter when he returned, how his cheeks had been flushed, and a lingering smile tugged at his lips.
He wondered how it was possible she noticed such things about him. Hell – part of him wondered if she had developed some way to read minds. He wouldn’t put it past her, considering she was entirely correct in her assumption. Bucky couldn’t shake the thought of someone crossing your path after you disappeared from view. He knew exactly where May Flowers was set up – only a few blocks past the border.
The 107 and Hydra were barred from crossing into the other’s territory, but that didn’t always stop them. It often came with trouble. And it seemed as though Bucky was already contemplating risking a bit of that trouble to see you again.
“No way in hell Barnes is that stupid,” Sam rolled his eyes as he stepped up from behind the bar. A towel was draped over his shoulder, a clean glass in his hand as he stocked it back on the shelf. It was his shift to run the bar and he wasn’t entirely thrilled with it as he refilled Bucky’s glass an ounce short. Bucky reached over the bar and swiped the bottle from Sam’s hand, giving him a look as if to say ‘watch yourself’ as he tapped off his glass.
Sam Wilson was a grade A pain in Bucky’s ass but Steve had been the one to vouch for him early on. They were buddies from their time at the VA, apparently. Bucky had yet to see any of this supposed empathetic counselor shit Sam preached, but perhaps it was because the two of them butted heads constantly. Didn’t mean he wouldn’t take a beating for the guy. He’d just hold it over his head for an eternity after the fact.
Peter Parker jumped up to the bar next, a tray of empty glasses sliding onto the counter. The kid was the last one to come around, barely old enough himself to drink but he was eager for community after he lost his uncle to a Hydra mugging and ended up with the family bike. Sam thought getting Peter to work as the bus boy in the bar would be a fun initiation prank, but it turned out the kid didn’t mind it at all. His apron was usually filled with fries from the kitchen and he liked to talk to himself while he worked. Seemed he just like being around, even if his handle on the throttle was sporadic on the best of days.
“Wait--” Peter leaned on the counter. “What’s so important on the west side anyway?”
“Nothing worth getting stabbed over,” Sam huffed, setting down the glass a little harder than needed for the sake of dramatic emphasis. “Right, Barnes?”
Bucky’s silence must have lingered too long because Natasha lips curved into a knowing smirk. Sam threw his arms in the air. He looked as though he were a disgruntled parent attempting to scold a rebellious teenager – a comparison he would certainly not find as entertaining as Bucky did.
“Do I need to remind you what happened the last time you—”
“No, I’m well aware. Thank you, Sam,” Bucky bit back roughly. Any trace of amusement wiped from his features. He could still feel the dull ache between his ribs where a blade had once pierced his skin, how quick the blood as spilled down the side of his stomach and soaked into his shirt. The rush of adrenaline barely masking the desolation, the betrayal, the—
“Oh,” Peter nodded, feigning understanding. “This is about the Dot thing, right?”
The glass might have shattered under Bucky’s grip if he had the strength. Even Sam had enough sense about him to not mention that woman’s name around Bucky, but Peter – Peter was a kid and he’d only started coming around in the last few months. He was just getting a hang of riding the damn bike, he shouldn’t be expected to know the whole history of the 107 and the part Dot played in it.
Thankfully, Barton finally sauntered over from his perch in the corner of the room and set a hand on Peter’s shoulder. “A word of advice, kid. Don’t say that name again unless you want to be on bathroom duty for the foreseeable future.”
Peter swallowed, his gaze awkwardly shifting to Bucky. “But...I’m already on bathroom duty.”
A laugh echoed from where Tony had been sitting at a table in the left side of the bar; lounging back with his legs propped up on the table, a tray of fries on his lap and a full beer in his right hand. It was enough to break the tension, and soon, even Bucky cracked a smile as laughter touched every spare inch of the wood. Frames and floorboards he’d once hammered in with his own bare hands. The place deserved a little laughter every once in a while.
Bucky threw back the rest of his bourbon and set the empty glass on the counter. “I’m heading out. I’ll see you guys later.”
Natasha gave him a pointed look from across the room, one that warned him to resist the allure of a woman on the west side he barely knew. It wasn’t worth the risk – you weren’t worth the risk. You were a stranger to him and he had family he had to take care of, people to protect – and he damn well couldn’t do that if Brock Rumlow and his goons caught him in their territory.
But Bucky reasoned he knew better. He could keep a low enough profile, keep his head down. Hydra had no reason to suspect he’d dare show face on the west side after what happened the last time he’d been lured across the border. Theoretically, he wouldn’t be that stupid. Or reckless. He was the damn leader of the only club who managed to stand up to Hydra’s schemes and keep their rotten ass out of his side of town.
Yes, Natasha was right – you were a stranger and it was a foolish risk to take, but he couldn’t get you off his mind. Not with the way you had looked at him under the glow of the streetlamp behind you, the starlight gently coaxing down over your skin and touching against the full rise of your chest where your labored breathes swelled. Breaths that slowly eased, fear subsiding almost instantly in his presence. He wasn’t used to that these days.
He'd heard the rumors of the 107 and to be looked at as a place of safety, of security – he'd almost forgotten what that felt like. It took time most days to remind himself he was not the monster the children of this town told stories of; especially when they scattered in the streets, leaving behind footballs in their haste when they heard the low purr of an engine approaching.
But you – you'd made him feel like he could be more than the head of a biker club half the town feared. You'd made him feel human. And Bucky wasn’t sure he’d be able to let that go just yet.
He pushed his way outside, taking a final glance over his shoulder to the Centenarian. His home in more ways than one. Tony was at the jukebox again, swiping through the songs as if he were considering anything different than his usual selection of AC/DC top hits. Sam and Steve were laughing at the bar, seemingly teasing Natasha as she glared back at them, only for the guys to promptly shut their mouths and pretend to busy themselves with the dust on the counter. Peter and Barton were huddled in the corner, sharing the fries the kid had nabbed from the kitchen.
Bucky smiled, hanging his head.
The feared biker club of the east.
He stepped outside into the afternoon sun. His bike was parted near the sidewalk, but he knew better than to drive the thing into the west. It would be a dead giveaway – not to mention the few ounces of bourbon in his system. He’d walk it off by the time he made it to May Flowers. Hell, he barely felt it the effects of the alcohol after years of tolerance, but his mother had drilled it early enough in his head to not even swing a leg over the side of his bike with a single drop of the stuff in him. Even years after she moved out of the town that carried too many painful memories, her words never left him.
The damn thing was dangerous enough as it was, she’d tell him. With only a helmet protecting him from collision, he was giving her a damn heart attack every time she heard the engine buzzing from down the street. He’d made a promise to her to never cross that line and he was intent on keeping it. Made sure the rest of his club followed the same, too.
Bucky turned to the west side of the sidewalk; hands shoved down into his pockets. Just over the hill on the crest of the horizon, he spotted Jay's diner as it sat on the edge of the border. The same place where Sam had gotten jumped by Hydra a few years back. There had been casualties on both sides – with the interior of the diner taking the brunt of it. Bullet holes in the walls and knife marks on the upholstery. These days a closed sign turned in the window any time a bike approaching in the distance.
Bucky tugged his cap lower over his eyes, stilling himself behind the red X marked on the sidewalk. He’d sworn he would never set foot in the west again after what happened – the ache in his side an unpleasant reminder of his own foolish trust in a woman who did not deserve it.
Was he about to make the same mistake now? Was he walking straight into a trap in search of a woman he’d only met the night before – with relief in her eyes and the sweetest damn smile he’d ever seen? Was he a damn fool for thinking he could seek out even a resemblance of normalcy – to believe he might be able to chase the burning feeling inside his chest and know what it was like to truly be wanted?
He supposed he’d find out.
You pricked your finger on a thorn as you attempted to squeeze the stubborn rose into the bouquet. Once it was secured, you sank back into your chair and pushed against the desk. The wheels swiveled unevenly as it carried you a few feet back to get a better look at the flowers. It was always easier to see their shape from a distance – how the colors blended and interspaced together. Pinks and reds and oranges gently peppered with Baby’s Breath and Bells of Ireland.
You chewed on the inside of your cheek, waiting for an ounce of satisfaction to ease the churning anxiety in your stomach, but it never came. The shop had been empty all day and you’d hoped making new arrangements to hang in the windows might attract some customers or at least keep you busy enough to avoid checking the register to find you hadn’t magically gained enough to make a full payment the next time Hydra showed up.
But no such luck. It seemed the universe was not as keen with you today.
The low rumble of your phone began buzzing inside the desk. You groaned, sliding your chair back across the tile until you slammed rather harshly into the drawers. When you pulled your phone from its hiding space, Wanda’s image appeared bright against the screen – nose scrunched up as she looked at the camera, lips pursed. Face paint from the summer festival bright upon her skin.
You tapped the green button and held the phone to your ear.
“Are you alright?” Wanda’s voice demanded through the speaker before you could so much as take in a breath. Her accent was usually thicker when she was worked up, her words blurring into one, and it was unusually heavy on her tongue.
“Hello to you, too, Wanda,” you chuckled, spinning in your chair as you stared up at the ceiling.
“Pietro heard you were accosted last night,” Wanda pressed and the smile fell from your face. You sat up on the edge of the chair. Damn Pietro and his neighborhood gossip.
“Accosted is a strong word...” you replied cautiously, wincing when you heard Wanda scoff in return. “It was nothing, Wan. Just some drunk moron. He was too out of it to actually do anything, honestly.”
Wanda huffed. “Well, Pietro heard that some random man wandered into county lock up dragging around a drunk by his collar and tossed him into the cell himself! Cops didn’t say a word, of course – bunch of useless fools. Know anything about that?”
You shook your head, stunned. You hadn’t seen where the drunk had run off to after Blue-eyes chased him away. Hell – you couldn’t remember much of anything else after you saw Blue-eyes. A fireworks display could have been set off behind the Centenarian and you wouldn’t have noticed.
“No, I— A man helped me. I don’t even know his name but he sort of came to my rescue... I guess.” The keychain was sitting in the drawer where your phone had been; the black plastic shiny under the reflection on the overhanging lights. You slid a finger down the side, a smile twitching at the edge of your mouth.
“But the drunk... you're sure he wasn’t Hydra?” Wanda asked warily.
You closed your eyes, forcing yourself to remember the man’s face. “Yes, I’m certain. Besides, I thought you were the one who said they wouldn’t cross the border.”
“It’s dangerous for them to do so – reckless, really – but it doesn’t mean they won’t,” Wanda warned, her voice low. You could vaguely make out Pietro’s voice as he called the order of a customer in the background. “There are consequences if they’re caught. I’m sure you remember the fight that nearly took out the diner by the border. Sent a bunch of guys on each side to the hospital. There’s a reason those men have so many scars, Y/n. You’ve seen Rumlow’s face.”
You swallowed. The vivid image of the mountains and craters on the side of his face drawing shivers down your spine. It was the same face that haunted you at night, peering in through the window amongst the shadows – taunting you. You ran your fingers over the glass face of your father’s watch, drawing on its stability to ground you.
“They don’t do it often,” she tried to ease you, “but it happens. The 107 have restricted the east to their control so Hydra can’t go around extorting people over here the way they did your dad. But... unless the 107 catches them... I imagine they could do as they pleased.”
You hadn’t considered that before. You’d always considered the east side to be a safe haven from Hydra. The 107 – despite the rumors of their violence on par with what Rumlow was capable of – scared you less than Hydra did. They didn’t show up in your shop the first Tuesday of every month and threaten you in your own home. It was like picking the worse of two evils. You’d rather chose the devil you didn’t know because the one lingering over your shoulder was vile enough.
“I didn’t mean to upset you,” Wanda said softly. “I just want you to be safe. The Hydra club is dangerous, Y/n. They already think they can control you; I’m just scared of what else they feel entitled to.”
You didn’t tell her the words sinking like metal into your stomach – that Hydra did control you, that they held your dignity and your life within the palm of their leather gloved hands. You owed them a debt and until it was paid, they owned you. But Wanda was only trying to help and there was no sense worrying her over what she could not change.
“I’ll be all right,” you said, absentmindedly picking up the keychain in your grip and the anxiety began to melt from your chest. “I can handle the Hydra club. I’ve done it for long enough. As long as I keep making payments, they’re not going to do anything. Wouldn’t make a very good business model of they did.”
You tried to laugh, but it was humorless and forced. Wanda didn’t so much as make an attempt. Business had been slow lately and you both knew it. The twins put all of their money into their tea shop and still – they never failed to offer you help, but you couldn’t take it. You couldn’t drag them into this with you. You'd figure it out. Your father had always prided himself on your instincts – you'd find a way through this. You didn’t have much else of a choice.
The bell rang at the front of the shop.
“Sorry Wan, I have to go,” you mumbled into the phone and hung up before she could reply. You’d text her later, let her know that you were doing okay even if you weren’t. Sometimes pretending made it a little easier. It allowed you to believe for just a moment that it was true.
You shoved the keys and your phone back into the drawer. The shop hadn’t had a single customer all morning so you brushed a hand down the front of your wrinkled apron and attempted to fix the flyaway strands in your hair. You rushed back up to the front, pressing on a smile though it felt unnatural against your cheeks.
“Welcome to May Flowers! Please let me know if there’s anything I can—”
You froze, watching the man stroll around the shop. His footsteps impossibly quiet, his fingertips gently touching the ends of open petals with a whispered smile. Hidden under a layered jacket and a baseball cap, it took a moment before you recognized him.
“What did you call me?” Bucky chuckled as you appeared behind the counter. You must not have realized you’d said the name aloud as your gaze quicky dropped nervously to the floor, an anxious smile peering up on your lips.
There were flowers on your dress. Tiny, little printed bouquets of blue and purple flowing along the soft cream fabric; like you couldn’t get enough of the things when they surrounded you in this shop, you had to have them on your sundresses, too. Bucky felt his gaze trailing over every single one; at the ends of the seams by your thighs, along your hips, the fluttering sleeves on your shoulder. He only tore his gaze away before it could linger over your chest in a desperate attempt at chivalry.
“Sorry, I didn’t-- You never told me your name,” you replied, slightly flustered, and damn – if it wasn’t the most endearing thing Bucky had ever seen. Hiding behind whisps of fallen hair and the curve of your palm against your cheeks as if you could disappear from him entirely.
You were just as he’d remembered from the night before. Just as lovely and as beautiful – though this time, he could see you in the full light of the shop, surrounded by flowers and greenery. Ethereal, if he had to put a name to it, and he most certainly did. He’d never seen someone so full of light and levity and he wondered if you could bring life to everything you touched. From the smallest of rose buds to the heart beating frantically inside his chest.
He could already feel it beating a bit faster as you smiled nervously at him.
Bucky tried not to take stock in the fact that you’d been thinking about him enough to give him a name of your own – a nickname given from the color of his eyes— but it was damn near impossible to ignore the jolt fluttering in his chest at the thought.
You'd been thinking about him.
“My name’s Bucky,” he offered, slowly making his way up to the counter. He picked up a loose stem of a lily from the floor that had fallen from its display and slipped it behind his back. He twisted it between his fingers, waiting until he was close enough and then slowly, he extended the flower to you.
Your eyes jumped to the lily, your lips parting slightly as if you couldn’t quite control the small gasp that pulled in your lungs. Slowly, your lips curved brightly into a smile as you pinched your fingers around the delicate stem, your fingers grazing his touch for only a moment, but it was enough to send jolts of electricity through his body.
It was a simple gesture, one that barely required any effort at all, and Bucky was suddenly desperate to do something more – something the required planning and effort and time, just to see what you’d do, to see if your smile could grow any wider. Anything to make you smile like that again.
He'd pick you a garden worth of lilies if you wanted. He’d plant you a garden if you’d smile for him once more and he didn’t even know your name.
“Y/n,” you finally replied, bringing up the lily to your nose and taking in a full breath. The petals touched your cheeks, delicate and fragile. The smile pressed higher on your face and it left Bucky’s stomach in knots.
“It is a pleasure, Y/n,” Bucky said, leaning his elbows against the counter. He tasted the syllables of your name on his tongue, let them slide over his lips, tremble in his voice. He quite liked the way it felt, how you seemed to shiver under its tone.
You slid the lily in a vase with a neck small enough to accompany only a single stem. Then, you set it on the counter beside the register, adjusting the petals until they laid how you liked them. You took such tender care with it – such a fragile, breakable thing. He studied your movements, the gingered touch of your fingertips over the leaves, feathered light as if you’d barely made contact at all.
Was he a fool for wishing you might touch him the same way? Possibly. Almost definitely. The 107 would have his head for thinking such thoughts of a woman on the west side, but damn if he couldn’t help the ache instead his chest at the very thought.
“I’m a little surprised to see you here, Bucky.”
He shrugged, taking a step back and pretended as though he hadn’t been trying to get you off his mind for the last eighteen hours. “Wanted to make sure you got home safe. And clearly...”
Bucky gestured to the shop and the evidence that you were alive and well as you stood before him in your floral printed dress, the ends flowing against your thighs, obstructed only by the white apron draped over your front. Hand stitched embroidery of the shop’s name, May Flowers, was woven into the pocket. The apron looked a few decades old – with fraying edges and stains on the front, but it fit you perfectly. It must have held meaning for you given the way your hand brushed over the stitching in the pocket in comforting traces along the lettering.
Suddenly, you perked up and rushed back to the desk in the corner of the shop without a single word. Bucky grinned, watching from the distance as you dug your hand into the drawers, pushing aside papers and old condiment packets, muttering under your breath, until you pulled out your keyring. On the end, was the self-defense keychain Bucky had given you the night before.
Sam had given it to him as a gag gift a few years back – making some joke about how Bucky couldn’t swing hard enough to bring down an opponent and needed the extra help. Didn’t matter whether it was true or whether Bucky’s fingers could even fit through the loops, but he kept it anyway. He was glad he did as you held it up in your hand, closing your fist around the grip. You made your way back to him, still holding the keyring, admiring the sharp edges of the plastic.
“I didn’t end up seeing anyone else last night but I felt safer holding this. Reminded me I’m not as defenseless as I feel sometimes... so... thank you, again.” Your voice was quieter, almost reserved. Your gaze shifted to the register as you ran a finer along the sharpest edge of the keychain, thought pondering through your mind you did not give words to. It pressed a frown onto your lips and Bucky felt something terrible lurch in his stomach.
“I hope you never have to use it,” Bucky said, gently breaking through the silence.
You looked up at him, a heavy weight on your shoulders as you nodded. “Me, too."
Just as quickly as the storm clouds had rolled in over the horizon, you pushed them away with the soft brush of a smile – albeit momentarily forced – but soon enough it began to touch your eyes as you set the keys on the counter. It seemed as though you might have had practice with engineering your own emotions into something kinder.
“I’m glad you came by, Bucky,” you said quietly, as if the words were ones you’d intended to keep hidden inside your thoughts, the evident relief aching within your voice.
Something inside his chest swelled as you smiled at him and Bucky was determined to chase that feeling until he was suffocated under it.
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Are you telling me the MCU can give us a universe where Darcy marries Howard the Duck but they cannot give us a universe where Steve marries Bucky? I am tired of this tomfoolery.
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saturdays are for chaos
pairing ~ college!stoner!bucky barnes x college!younger!reader (young and free au)
warnings ~ little bit of teasing, minors DNI, sexual innuendo￼, smoking marijuana, shotgunning, partying, first meeting,
notes ~ some visuals for angel costume (one, two, three)
The house was crowded with warm bodies pressed against one another. Music blared out the windows to the point you swear the walls are vibrating. Neon lights flash periodically, lighting up the features of your peers who are guzzling down the beverages in their red solo cups.
In the crowded house, you slipped past the mass of people and found the one person you knew. Loki Odinson was in two of theatre classes and you had been partnered with him for a majority of the semester. Within those study hours, you found that you and the fellow drama lover got along quite nicely. He had invited you to his older brother’s Halloween party. You had even matched customers.
Loki dressed in all black with dark wings to accompany him while you dressed innocently in white with light wings. You had been so grateful to find a friend and finally get out. You had gotten somewhat close with your roommate, Wanda, but she spent a majority of her time with her twin brother and the new guy she met in her communications class, Vis.
“You came!”Loki acted surprised, throwing an arm around your shoulders.”I was almost sure you’d cancel, you don’t get out much, you know?”
“Well, I thought it was about time, I need a little fun,”You replied, letting Loki guide you towards the kitchen.”Where’s this famous brother of yours? The one you complain oh so much about?”
“He’s probably with Jane or maybe Val, we’ll find them later,”Loki assured you with a mischievous smile,”Right now, we need to get some shitty beer running through those veins.”
As you managed to push through to the kitchen, you had collided with a taller man. The brunette had tight black jeans and a red button up that was mostly undone. His exposed chest made you drool and you swear that his left shoulder was covered in black metal. He had red horns poking out of his hair, and you realized he was dressed as the devil.
“Woah, there, angel,”The man grinned widely, gazing at you as he poked at your halo headband.”Might wanna be careful, can’t be running into any ol’ devil.”
“I think I can handle myself,”You quipped back, crossing your arms as you playfully narrowed your eyes.”I’ve had my fair share of demons.”
“Why play with demons when you can have the king of hell himself?”
“Bucky, leave her alone,”Loki rolled his eyes with a scold, making the older man laugh. His laughter was contagious, his smile infectious that you can’t help the grin pulling across your face.
“You know him?”You asked Loki, tilting your head as Loki grabbed a red cup and slowly filled it from the nozzle of the keg.
“He’s one of Thor’s friends, and I guess mine, but he’s fucking annoying,”Loki looked at Bucky narrowly,”Yeah, I said it.”
“Hey, man, I know you love me,”Bucky teased before glancing between you both.”You guys a thing?”
“What, no!”You shook your head immediately, observing his reaction.
“Isn’t there some place for you to be, Barnes?”
“Oh yeah, sure, right here,”Bucky joked before sighing,”Actually, I’m headed upstairs if either of you are interested in smoking some of the devil’s grass, if you know what I mean.”
“You mean like…?”You trailed off, not sure if you should say it aloud as if the word would summon the cops.
“Yeah, angel, like weed,”He chuckled at you, leaning against the counter as you took your first sip of the beer. You didn’t like the taste that much, but anything to feel a buzz would suffice.
“I’ve never…smoked anything.”
“I would be honored to be your first “Bucky winked, earning him a smack to the shoulder by Loki.”Only if she wants!”
“I want to,”You admitted shyly and he thinks it might be the best thing he ever heard.
“Follow me to hell then, angel.”
You rolled your eyes, but didn’t hesitate to take his hand when he offered it to you. You let Bucky lead you through the crowd with Loki trailing behind.
The room Bucky brought you to was a lot less crowded with only a few people, who he introduced you to immediately.
“Oh, you’re the girl Loki said we should meet!”Thor connected, pulling you into a friendly hug before offering you another beer.”This is my room, welcome, welcome,”The massive blond drunkenly bowed politely.
“He’s our host,”Bucky told you, throwing an arm around you.”Thor throws the best parties at the university. All the frats want him, but—“
“I like keeping my options open.”
“Don’t let Jane hear you say that,”Natasha commented,”Might lose your sexual privileges, then what would you do, Thunder?”
“Thunder?”You whispered to Bucky curiously.
“Because he brings the Thunder, also the man is a fucking storm, he destroys everything in his path, but…in a good way?”Bucky tried to explain, taking a step towards the desk by the window and pulled out his sealed bag from the drawer.
“Speak for yourself, Barnes,”Loki retorted, glancing at Thor pointedly.”Sometimes that attitude gets us in more trouble than anything.”
“Oh, don’t tell me you’re still mad about New Years, how was I supposed to know Hela would cut your hair?”Thor commented, sinking into his bed.”Doesn’t he still look good?” He asked Steve and Sharon, who were sitting in one of those beanbag chairs with the blonde woman settled in his lap.
“Because it’s Hela! She always gets revenge!”
“Alright, don’t get into this again,”Sam complained,”Always bickering, smoke some weed and just chill.”
“Wise words, Wilson,”Bucky chuckled, turning in the swivel chair with the perfect joined between his fingers.”Little angel here never smoked, so be nice.”
You felt your cheeks flush with heat at his little pet name for you. He put the joint between his lips and brought the flame of the lighter to the end. The smell was strong as he blew smoke towards you, urging you towards him with a little smirk. You inched your way to him, taking the joint between your thumb and forefinger.
“Do I just….inhale?”You asked curiously, gazing at Bucky for guidance.
“Never smoked anything at all, haven’t you?”Bucky chuckled,”How about I help you?”
“Bucky,”Steve warned, making his girlfriend chuckle under her breath.
“She can just smoke it, Buck,”Sharon told him, shaking her head at him fondly.”You just want to shotgun because she’s pretty.”
“I’m not…shut up, I just wanna make sure she gets the best high,”Bucky replied quickly before ignoring them to turn his attention back to you.
“What’s a shotgun?”You asked while Bucky took the joint back, which had gone out during the conversation.
“It’s when I inhale it, and exhale it into your or anyone’s mouth,”Bucky explained. Just the thought of Bucky’s lips on yours made your stomach twist in anticipation.”It’s a lot less work for you, and it’s fun.”
You seem to forget everyone else in the room, just looking at Bucky before nodding,”Yeah, I’m willing to try anything once.”
“You’re a tease, I can already tell,”Bucky joked with a laugh, pulling you by your hand to sit on his thigh. He explained briefly what you were to do before assuring you that you’d have some fun.
He lit the joint once again before wrapping his lips around the end, taking a long drag. You admired the imagery in front of you before you passes the joint, holding the smoke in before pulling you by your chin. His lips grazed your parted lips, exhaling into your mouth. It burned your lungs, but inhaled as best you could. Once he leaned away, you out your hand over your mouth as you coughed.
Bucky rubbed your back gently, resting his chin on your shoulder.”Welcome to the dark side, angel.”
The room was soon filled with smoke while the joint was passed from person to person. You sipped on your drink, finding yourself comfortable in Bucky’s lap. You had no idea how you ended up here, but you found you liked the company. Bucky continued to ‘help’ you get high, but in the back of your mind, you’re sure both of you just wanted to keep close.
“Rogers, you and me, beer pong, let’s go!”Thor challenged,”Loki will be on my team, would you, brother?”
“If I have to, but I have a friend—“
“I’ll be fine, Loki,”You assured him,”Go spend time with your brother.”
“I’ll keep her company,”Bucky added, smiling up at you in his lap.
“Guess I’ll take Sam as my partner then since Bucky is preoccupied,”Steve teased, waiting for Sharon to get up before rising to his feet.
“Thanks, man. I feel real loved,”Sam commented with a playful glare.
“Everyone knows Bucky is the best shot, except for Clint,”Steve told him, shoving his shoulder gently.”Where is Clint, by the way?”
“Home, unfortunately,”Natasha pouted at the mention of her absent boyfriend.”He’ll be back on Monday.”
“You guys have a lot of friends,”You whispered to Bucky, causing him to grin as he wrapped a steady arm around your waist.
“Yeah, well, we all got one thing in common.”
“And what’s that?”
“We just want to enjoy life, we wanna be young and free, live life to its full extent,”Bucky explained with small laugh,”It’s no fun to just sit back and work all the time, you gotta let loose and find your crew. This is ours, and you are more than welcome to hang around.”
“I’d like that,”You admitted, chewing on your bottom lip.
“Then you should give me your number.”
“Oh, very smooth,”You poked at his chest with a giggle.
“Is that a yes?”
“Give me your phone, Barnes, but you better call me,”You threatened,”Or I’ll have to go straight to hell and kick your ass.”
“Oh, angel, I don’t think you’ll ever be able to get rid of me.”
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a forgiving touch | b.b.
pairing: Alpha!Bucky Barnes x Omega!Fem Reader
summary: After a rough night on the job, Bucky comes home to his beloved Omega. Alphas normally are the ones taking care of their Omegas but it's time for you to take care of him instead.
word count: 1.1K
warnings: Mentions of death by fire, fluff, little angst, kissing, cuddling, and that's it..I think.
a/n: I've been trying to write this for what feels like forever. I love Alpha!Bucky more than words can say too and I wanted to write some fluff for him. Hope you guys enjoy! Did I edit..fuck no.
You sighed as you read Bucky’s text.
It was a whole family.
Your brave, sweet, and caring Alpha happened to be a firefighter. It was how the two of you met actually. Bucky’s team was putting out a fire at your apartment building and once your eyes met his, it was all over. The rest was history. Being a firefighter though was a dangerous job and you knew there would be good days, but you also knew there would be days when they couldn’t save everyone. Today was the latter.
Bucky seemed like a different person on the days when lives were lost to the flames and that's when he needed you the most. He became quieter, didn’t sleep as much, no appetite, but the thing you always noticed most was how that charming smile was missing. You couldn’t blame him though. Not in the slightest. You would never know the weight that he and his team carried on their shoulders when it came to losing someone.
He would be home soon and that didn’t give you much time. You moved around your shared apartment as quickly as you could to try and make it more comfortable for him. Usually it was the other way around. Bucky would be doing everything and anything to make sure his beloved Omega had the perfect home to come home to.
You knew he wouldn’t want dinner so the options were either a warm shower or cuddling up in the bed. You placed a sweater of yours in the bed along with some of his favorite blankets and pillows. Just as you were finishing up you heard the door close followed by the sounds of his boots hitting the floor. You noticed the scent change the second it hit you. Stress. Doubt. Fear. All the things that normally didn’t plague your Alpha. Oh how you wish you could take it all away and that he could be at peace. You know you couldn’t but you would do your damnedest to help in any way you could.
You made your way over to him and your heart broke at the sight. He looked defeated, broken almost. No words were needed right now. He would talk when he was ready and when that time comes you would be more than ready to listen. Alphas are always spoken about as strong individuals who never show any sign of weakness. That they were there to look after their Omegas in their time of need. That wasn’t true because regardless of rank, everyone needed to be taken care of by their loved one. Tonight Bucky needed you. An Alpha needed his Omega.
He tried to give you a smile but it didn’t reach his eyes and barely reached his lips. You took his hand and pulled him gently to the bedroom. There was still some ash and soot present along his skin so you thought it best for the two of you to take a shower. The water warmed up as you helped Bucky undress. This was always one of your favorite things to do with him, no matter the occasion. Sometimes those moments of undressing were filled with passion and lust. Others, like now, were still intimate but in a different way. It was a form of trust almost. Your eyes scanned over him as the clothes fell to the floor and every time it was like seeing him for the first time. He was beautiful in your eyes and nothing would ever change that.
He left out a sigh as the two of you stepped under the warm water. You hoped that this would help wash away some of the horrific memories from tonight, at least for a little while. After a little while, you had washed away the physical remains of the fire. You just wish you could wash away the memories that were burned into his mind. You were lost in your own thoughts when he cupped your cheek gently, pulling you from them.
“I could live a thousand lifetimes and still not deserve you, Omega. You don’t know how thankful I am for you.” He smiled softly down at you and started to pull you closer.
You smiled back, thankful this smile reached his eyes unlike earlier. It meant what you were doing was starting to help. Your arms wrap around him as he pulls you in and you could feel the mood changing. It was a slight change, but a change nonetheless.
You placed your hand over Bucky’s that rested on your cheek, “I could live a thousand lifetimes and still not show you how much love you deserve, Alpha. You always take such good care of me and I love you so much for it. I’m always gonna love you. On your good days, your bad, and everything in between. I promise.”
After a few kisses and soft touches the shower was soon over so you and your Alpha dried off before crawling into your bed. You were dressed in one of Bucky’s shirts. He loved seeing you in them, it reminded him in a way that you belonged to him. He nuzzled his face into your neck as you held him, your scent over taking his senses. A floral scent with a hint of coconut. The day that scent hit him he knew he wanted to be wrapped up in it forever. The day he marked you over your scent gland was one of the happiest days of his life. He often reminded you of that.
Bucky relaxed into you as your fingers played with his hair. Those soft chestnut locks, weaved through your fingers as you laid there. No words, just soft touches and kisses. That’s all he needed right now. Tonight was hard, more than hard. Bucky beat himself up whenever they lost people to the flames he was supposed to save them from. He knew that sometimes things like that happened but that didn’t make it any easier to deal with. He screamed and kicked things around the firehouse, he didn’t know what else to do in that moment. Steve eventually calmed him down enough to convince him to go home, he knew going home to you would help more than anything else. He was right.
Soft snores eventually fell from Bucky’s lips and you were thankful. After the night he had he deserved some rest. You just hoped the flames wouldn’t consume his dreams tonight. Let them be consumed by love and happiness. He deserved that, whether he believed it or not. You knew he did because you saw the amazing Alpha he was. He was one of a kind and you would happily show him that every chance you got. Bucky was your Alpha which meant taking care of you in every aspect. You were his Omega and to you it meant showing him the same love and affection that was given.
You’d be damned if he didn’t deserve it. He deserved the world.
tagging: @babyboibucky @lokithealligator @borikenlove @xxshelbsxx @crownstealer @buckybarneschokeme @bitchassbucky @vanillanaps @bemine-bucky @sgt-seabass @buckys-blue-eyes @crownstealer @hey-its-grey @suchababie @spicynudlesoup
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𝒕𝒘𝒐 𝒘𝒆𝒆𝒌𝒔 𝒂𝒑𝒂𝒓𝒕 ✧ 𝒃. 𝒃.
pairing: bucky barnes x f!reader
warnings: mild angst, brief mentions of sex, reader suffers from depression, happy ending :)
word count: 1,9k
a/n: i might be having a blue moment in my life rn 🙃
two whole weeks after your last date and bucky has no sign of you. no texts, no calls, no nothing. it’s like you vanished from his life.
he told himself not to worry because first, you’re not exclusive, it was only your fourth date, and second, you’re both busy adults. dating is a lot different in this century. year. era. whatever. dating is different. disappearing for two weeks from someone’s life must be normal. kids do this all the time... right?
“no.” sam scoffs as he gathers dried leaves into a small pile to put them in a bag. “i mean, you’re going out with this girl for weeks now and she won’t text you back? if she ain’t ghostin’ ya, i don’t know what it is.”
“maybe i did something wrong...” bucky ponders as a silent cue for sam’s advice.
the louisianian chuckles and finally gives in to his friend’s silent request.
bucky might be over one hundred years old, but there’s so much he doesn’t know, and sam just wants his friend to succeed as any good friend would.
“okay,” he sighs and sits on the bench in the backyard where they are both cleaning for sarah. “how was the date?”
it’s hot, and only when they stop to talk do they feel the weather effects. the backyard isn’t that big, but it’s a lot of work, even for a super soldier.
“it was nice,” bucky begins as he stands before sam with a garden rake under his arm. “we went to this small japanese restaurant, had a nice talk…”
sam is not impressed. in fact, he’s bored.
“all y’all do is talk?” he genuinely asks, but bucky feels a tiny bit of judgment.
“what else would we do?”
it takes the sergeant three whole seconds to absorb sam’s choice of words. the new captain america is amused.
“sex.” he finally explains. “have y’all...?”
he gestures for bucky to elaborate, but the former winter soldier just snorts, not just because of his friend’s indiscretion, but because the answer is no.
“first of all, i’m not telling you about my personal life, and second of all, it’s not about sex.”
“so y’all didn’t smush.”
“stop saying smush!” bucky grumbles.
sam laughs loudly at bucky’s uptightness and quickly lets it go. apparently bucky really likes you, and he’s worried, but he doesn’t want to appear too intrusive. it’s confusing because the social rules today are very different, almost the opposite to the ones from his time, so he doesn’t know how or when to operate.
“look, text her again just to check on her. if she doesn’t respond within a day or two, then she probably doesn’t want anything to do with you.” sam advises, speaking more sincerely now, and bucky nods.
“i had a lot of fun today.”
“so did i :)”
bucky reads and rereads the last messages exchanged between you and he tries to decipher some possible code between the little letters and between the spaces between the message balloons, but it seems that there is nothing there other than what is exposed. it’s so frustrating.
the next balloon is from him, the unread and unanswered message.
“hi, how are you? are you free tomorrow?”
remembering sam’s advice, bucky starts typing another message and expects you to reply until at least the next day.
“hello. how are you?”
soon after sending the text, bucky locks his phone and goes to take a shower, still hoping that when he comes back he will have a notification on his screen.
two more days passed and no response. two days looking at his cell phone thinking that any notification was a text. you’re not even bothering to read them. sam must be right, you mustn’t be wanting to see him, and now he has to move on. it’s annoying because he was so sure you two were clicking. so many things in common, despite the nearly hundred-year difference in age, despite him being a hero. despite his friends being heroes. yet, the two of you are similar in what is imperative, and different where you can complement each other.
what went wrong?
that’s the question he’s been asking himself for days. bucky relives the times you spent together and tries to find any mistakes on his part but can’t really point any fingers. maybe that’s it, you’re too arrogant to think you’re wrong, he tells himself. had he gone slowly? should he have initiated something sexual? he tries not to think about these things, but it’s almost impossible, because he’s been pushed aside with no explanation and suddenly.
one thing is certain: there is no point in asking more questions, as these will not be answered. the whys, the hows, the wheres, the whens will all be ignored, and now by his own will.
he’s sorry, because he was really interested in you, but it is what it is, and it’s with that attitude that bucky heads to the coffee shop he took you to on your second date. it’s even a little busier than usual, but only one person catches his eye: you, sitting at the last table, the furthest and most reserved, having coffee.
you are not well.
bucky is simply drawn to you, whether he likes it or not. that’s why he asked you out in the first place. he catches himself walking towards your table and you don’t seem to notice his presence until he’s sitting right in front of you, and his face exudes concern and doubts. in fact, you seem to be far away from there, in another dimension. your gaze is so empty, which worries him greatly. a small gasp leaves your lips when you finally see him.
“hey,” he murmurs.
“bucky, i- hi.” you struggle to speak as your voice is low and weak. you clear your throat and try to collect yourself, but you’re still a mess. “hi, bucky.”
you look tired. exhausted. you have dark bags under your eyes, like you’re sleep deprived. you’re not as together as you were. he doesn’t think you’re ugly - absolutely not - but it feels as if the light in your eyes has shone away. your eyes don’t sparkle anymore, and something tells him this is not about him anymore, in fact, it never was in the first place.
“i... i’ve been texting you.”
“oh,” you fake a small smile and take another sip of your coffee. “my phone is broken and i haven’t really had the time to get a new one.” you lie.
if only he knew how shattered you really are. if he only knew how hard it’s been to even get out of bed. if he only knew coffee is the only thing you’re digesting because you can’t keep anything inside and you don’t want to sleep. if he only knew how many tears you’ve cried these past days.
“oh, i see.” bucky nods. “are you... okay?”
“yeah, i... yeah. yeah, i’m fine. just a little busy.” another fake smile on your lips.
why are you lying?
he notices your discomfort and watches you get up.
after the therapy sessions, bucky now feels the need to fix what is broken, and maybe it’s insensitive of him to want to fix you, and he’ll never admit it out loud, at least not to anyone other than his therapist, but he hates to see you like this. as much as you want to seem just tired, he’s seeing that it’s much more than that, and that’s what makes him so worried.
“sorry, i’m... i have to go.”
“i’ll see you around.” you say as you disappear in between the customers that come and go, but he doesn’t lose you out of his sight and follows you out of the coffee shop.
“y/n, wait!” he asks as he holds your arm, making you turn around to face him. “wait, what’s wrong?”
“nothing’s wrong, i’m just really busy.”
you both know you’re lying, but you can’t bring yourself to explain truthfully what’s happening, because you don’t know if he would understand, and you don’t want to be a burden. you can’t offer him what he deserves: someone who actually has their shit together.
“y/n, it’s me. you can trust me.” he insists.
by the look on his face you can tell he’s being genuine, and you do want to tell him everything, because you need to clear your mind and lighten your chest. you’ve imploded so many times just the past week, you have no idea how the hell you even left your house for a simple coffee today.
he sees your eyes getting watery and lips quivering. all he knows is that you’re deeply saddened by something, and all he can do at the moment is pull you into a hug.
in the middle of the sidewalk, with people walking around, coming and going, bucky hugs you tight, and you’ve never felt more seen.
although you feel a lot better after sharing your thoughts and emotions, you do feel bad for ignoring him and making him feel like you didn’t want to see him anymore. you didn’t think he would be that interested in you. after four wonderful dates, is it cocky to think he likes you or are you just stating a fact?
it shouldn’t be so hard to accept that, despite our faults, there are people who will accept us and love us anyway. either because of them or in spite of them.
bucky took the liberty of dropping you off at home and making you some chamomile tea to calm you down. after a hot, relaxing shower, and a long, much-needed conversation, he is in your bed, waiting for you to sleep. he couldn’t help noticing the details in your house. the pictures, the photos, the decoration. your house is small, but it’s cozy, comfortable, and gorgeous, just like you.
you hear him talk about his own life, how he tries to deal with the difficulties of living in a completely different time, how much he misses his friends, and the loneliness he feels at times. he talks about sam, sarah, the boys and how he is adapting. you hear him chuckle about how confusing simple stuff can be for him, and how fascinating phones are.
his voice is soft and sweet, as if a sound has been made to describe honey. you gradually forget about being embarrassed by the situation you are in, and feel welcomed by him. he doesn’t make you feel guilty for being sad when he’s been through much worse, no. he makes you feel seen, heard and most importantly, he makes you feel understood and not alone.
“i tend to push people away when i’m not feeling myself, and i wish i could do differently, but i feel suffocated with my own thoughts, i can’t handle them well.” you confess. “but i don’t want to do that with you, not anymore.”
“i’m here for you for as long as you want me to be.”
your blinks are getting heavy, the chamomile tea has finally kicked in. your body starts to relax into the mattress and bucky presses a kiss on your forehead before you finally close your eyes to sleep.
your hand grips on his black shirt, maybe for fear of him leaving, you don’t want to be alone, but he won’t leave your side. he will be there when you wake up.
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This 1Kinktober is to celebrate 1000 followers! 🎉. Also, the 1st anniversary of my first fic posted on this blog is 10/25! 🥳
I’m so humbled an honored that you chose to follow me. Love you ALLLLLL! 😘
Fics Will be posted at 4pm EST every day. Comments, likes and reblogs are appreciated!
Here is the Calendar of Kinks!
Dates in October
Thigh Riding Sebastian Stan & Chris Evans
Nipple Play/Lactation Kink Chris Evans
Filming Jake Jensen
Spanking Lin Manuel Miranda
Hand Kink Daveed Diggs
Public Sex Chris Evans
Voice kink/Phone sex Rafael Casal
Cock warming Bucky Barnes
Breeding kink/Cum play Chris Evans
Voyeurism Chris Evans & Sebastian Stan
Praise kink Rafael Casal
Tiny Skirt Jasmine Cephas JonesxAnthony Ramos
Size kink Chris Evans
Creampie Bucky Barnes
Light BDSM Rafael Casal
Face Riding Johnny Storm
Anal Ari Levinson
Wax Play Bucky Barnes
Brat taming Lin Manuel Miranda
Hair pulling Daveed Diggs
Breath play Rafael Casal
Begging Bucky Barnes
30-yr old Virgin Chris Evans
Coersion Ransom Drysdale
Toys Daveed Diggs
Edging Rafael Casal
Cuckholding Chris Evans & Sebastian Stan
Clit slapping Andy Barber
Threesome Bay Boys
Multiple Select Avengers
A Very Special Night TBD
Notice: I Do NOT Consent to my work being reposted, translated or presented on any other blog or site other than by myself.
Divider by @firefly-graphics
I hope you enjoy!
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Bucky: Hello 911? Yes, hi i’m calling to say i accidentally raised my voice at Sam and i need to be arrested
911 operator: Sir, we talked about this
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C'mon...it's time for me to face the past...no matter what.
Happy Birthday @westcot
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Caught in the Fire 8 - Interrupted [Bucky Barnes x Reader]
A.N: Thank you so much for your wonderful support my loves! ❤ I hope you like it as well, and please don’t forget to tell me what you think of this chapter, kisses!❤
Pairing: Mobster!Bucky Barnes x Female Reader
Summary: Hostility tends to be subtle.
Warnings: Violence, death, crime, explicit language, dysfunctional relationships. This is an AU, friendly reminder that I don’t condone any of the actions depicted on this story and please read with care.
Some days you found yourself thinking that your younger sister was a tiny little angel, too pure for this world.
Today was not one of those days.
“But why can’t I come with you?”
You repressed an annoyed groan trying to escape from your lips and shut your eyes for a moment before opening them again, then started tapping your pencil on the small notebook you were holding in your hand. You had gone over the items on the list for maybe five times, but you figured you could never be too careful when it came to the cake for a super important birthday party.
“Because I’m working and you have homework.”
“What if I finished my homework?” Emma asked, rocking back and forth on her feet, “Could I come then?”
“But why not?” she whined, stomping on her foot and you lowered the small notebook to shoot her a look.
“I wanna see where Bucky lives!”
“He lives in a house just like everyone else,” you said, purposely leaving out the part where his bedroom was probably bigger than your whole apartment.
“If you asked him, he’d say yes.”
“Mm hm, that’s exactly why I’m not asking him.”
She huffed out, crossing her arms, “You suck.”
Your jaw dropped, “Hey!” you snapped, “Language! Do you want to be grounded?”
Her only answer was another huff before she stormed out of the kitchen, almost hitting your cousin Josh in the face with the door.
“Whoa, where’s the fire?”
“I’m angry!” Emma yelled, making you throw your head back. He chuckled to himself, leaning back to the door.
“You were a kid up until like five minutes ago,” you stated, making him roll his eyes.
“I’m eighteen, Y/N.”
“Exactly,” you muttered, putting your hands on your hips, “So I don’t think I forgot anything, did I forget anything? No, right?”
Josh tilted his head, “So, Barnes residence then?”
“It’s just for an hour or two, then I’ll leave.”
Josh nodded, “So which one of them are you boning? Alex or Bucky?”
You stared at him, “Do you wanna get grounded too?”
“I’m eighteen, no one can ground me.”
“Would your mom agree with me?”
He shot you a glare, “Message received,” he said, “But seriously, he shows up a lot nowadays.”
“He does and you’re not telling anyone about that,” you pointed at him, “Because if you tell your mom, your mom will tell my dad and that’s gonna be a disaster.”
“So you’re just gonna hit it and quit it with one of the most notorious mob bosses in the city?”
“I’m gonna hit you in the head with a pan if you keep talking about this,” you muttered before you took off the apron over your dress to hang it over the rack, “Okay, so my dad is gonna pick Emma up in an hour, until then please keep an eye on her—“
“I will, don’t worry.”
“If you need me for anything—“
“I won’t, and it’s just for a couple of hours. Go.”
You huffed out and put your jacket on. “Just let me know okay?” you said and left the bakery to get into your car. After putting your seatbelt on, you started the car and started driving to Bucky’s family home.
This was a terrible idea.
After that weird macho showdown, you hadn’t had the chance to see him and to be completely honest, you weren’t sure if you wanted to. Even that night, you had made sure to avoid talking about Bucky and Alex being Alex hadn’t pressured you into it.
Maybe Summer had a point. Maybe you and Alex could be something. After all, Alex had been there for you for years, Emma liked him, he was nice and sweet and—
He wasn’t a goddamn mob boss.
You scoffed at yourself, keeping your eyes on the road.
“Unbelievable….” You mumbled, and kept driving.
When you got to your destination, you wasted no time. The house itself had two entrances so it was no wonder why you didn’t see Bucky if he even was there yet, but by the time you were halfway done with the decorations of the cake, you realized you had forgotten your phone in the car. You looked around, then turned to the chef.
“Hey, is it okay if I stepped outside for a minute?”
“Sure thing!” he said and stole a look at the cake, “That looks amazing already.”
“Thank you,” you smiled and walked to the exit before pushing the door open. You approached your car with fast steps and got your phone out, but as soon as you slammed the door close, you heard your name being called.
The tall figure of Steve Rogers entered your sight when you turned your head and you offered him a small smile.
“Call me Steve please,” he smiled back, “Me and Sam just arrived—I didn’t know you were here.”
“Will you be joining us?”
“No actually, I’m working,” you motioned at the house, “I got the birthday cake duty and it’s a… um, you’re not the birthday boy, are you?”
“Nope,” he said, “Dating Rebecca would be very hazardous for my health. Why? Is the cake duty going bad?”
“It’s going well, but it’s also kicking my ass.”
He chuckled, “Anything I can do to help?”
“How are you with a piping nozzle?”
He thought for a moment, “Probably less than ideal?”
“Then no,” you grinned “Thank you though.”
“Just let me know,” he said and you nodded, then walked back to the kitchen. You started humming a song to yourself as you grabbed the piping nozzle, and continued from where you left off.
“Bucky- hey!” Rebecca’s voice carried out into the kitchen from the stairs, “Watch where you’re going, asshole!”
“Why are you so slow?” Bucky shot back, “Are you trying to walk backwards – ouch! Rebecca, stop pinching my arm!”
Intimidating mob boss, that one.
You shook your head, trying to repress a smile and soon enough you heard movement by the door, making you turn your head.
“Hi Peaches,” Bucky said while the kitchen staff scattered around the kitchen.
“Hey there,” you said, turning to the small gray flowers you were making from sugar, and he approached you.
“When did you get here?”
“About two hours ago.”
He tilted his head. “Why didn’t I see you?”
“Staff entrance,” you pointed at the door, “Something tells me you don’t use that door much. Does this sugar flower look nice to you?”
He grabbed it, then popped it in his mouth, making your jaw drop. “Bucky!”
“It tastes great. Do you have more of it?”
“You— no! Away from here!” you said as he wiggled his brows.
“Oh come on, the birthday dickhead doesn’t deserve half of this.”
You rolled your eyes and started working on the next flower while he leaned sideways to the counter, keeping his gaze on you.
“Are you sure I can’t convince you to join us?”
You felt a bitter smile pulling at your lips, “Not my crowd, but I’m sure you’re gonna have fun.”
He heaved a sigh, then narrowed his eyes.
“How’s the teacher?”
“He’s fine, now that he’s away from your—“ you motioned at him, “Macho showdown bullshit. What even was that?”
“What was what?” he said with a fake innocent expression on his face and you arched a brow.
“That whole thing,” you said, “Would you like it if I did the same to you in front of a friend of yours?”
“I don’t know!” you said, “Like— like a lady friend.” You snapped your fingers, “Like Natasha Romanoff.”
“I’m not Natasha’s type,” he stated, “And she doesn’t look at people like a puppy seeing treats for the first time.”
“But Alex does?”
“He looks at you like that.” He shrugged, making you groan.
“He doesn’t,” you said, carefully placing the tiny flowers on the top tier of the cake before taking a step back. “Okay, how does it look?”
“It looks beautiful,” Bucky said, “Everything you make looks beautiful, you know that.”
That managed to put a smile on your face and you pushed him back gently, but he let out a clear laugh, winking at you.
“So what was that about, the other night?” you asked, “Past Steve’s territory?”
He took a deep breath, “Well, there has been some territory issues regarding—“ he started but was cut off when his phone started vibrating. He checked the caller I.D, then cursed under his breath.
“Don’t go anywhere, I’m still not done with convincing you,” he pointed at you, making you scrunch up your nose.
“You won’t be able to!” you called out as he walked out of the kitchen to answer the phone and you grabbed the last part of the decorations to put them on the cake, then dusted your hands off your apron. You turned around the cake to see whether you had missed any spots, but even you had to admit, it looked pretty flawless. You grabbed the birthday candles to place them on top of the cake one by one, but before you could finish them, the other members of the staff stopped talking amongst themselves. You frowned and looked over your shoulder, and as soon as you did, your stomach dropped.
Winnifred Barnes. Bucky and Rebecca’s mother, the woman whom you were hoping to avoid was standing by the entrance, graceful as ever.
“Mrs. Barnes,” you greeted her and she turned to the rest of the staff.
“Could we have a moment please?”
Oh God damn it.
One by one, everyone left the kitchen and you shifted your weight, trying to decide where to put your hands.
“I almost didn’t recognize you,” she said, her voice silky. “You grew into a beautiful woman, didn’t you?”
“…Thank you,” you said after a beat and she took a step towards you, her heels clicking on the marble floor.
“And you’re back in the picture, I see.”
There it is.
You pushed a strand of hair that had escaped from your bun behind your ear, “Um— no I’m just— I’m just working. Rebecca asked me to make the birthday cake, so…”
“I heard. I didn’t know you’d actually be here though.”
You stole a look at the cake, “It’s a two tier cake and the fondant I used is different than usual, it’d get messed up if I sent it with a car.”
She eyed you up and down with a calm smile on her face.
“You’re probably right,” she said, “But good news, you’re excused for the rest of the night. I think our staff can handle the rest.” She clicked her tongue, “No reason for us to keep you from your plans. I’m sure a pretty girl like you has plans on a Friday night, no?”
There it was. That condescending tone she could use so well even after years. Winnifred Barnes had never hidden her distaste towards you and you weren’t naïve enough to believe that she was being polite to you all of a sudden.
As far as she was concerned, you were still the same girl all those years ago, the one that posed the danger of distracting her precious son from the path she wanted him to follow.
“Anyways,” her voice pulled you out of your thoughts and she scribbled something on her checkbook before ripping a page and holding it between two fingers for you to reach out and take it.
For a second, you wanted to tell her to fuck off and not take it, but you knew you didn’t have that option. That money was going to be used for Emma’s summer camp, no matter what you felt about the woman who was paying you. So, you bit your tongue hard enough to taste blood and slowly reached out to take it from her.
“It’s a pleasure, Mrs. Barnes,” you managed to say and she nodded.
“Likewise Y/N,” she said and took a step but then turned around, “You wouldn’t mind using the staff entrance on your way out, would you? The party upstairs is family and friends only.”
Right. As it turned out, she got to tell you to fuck off even if you couldn’t.
“Sure,” you said through clenched teeth and watched her walk out of the kitchen. You stood there for a moment, then shook your head and pushed the check deep into your pocket. You grabbed your jacket, still blinking the tears back and rushed out of the house to get into your car, then drove away like someone was chasing you.
When you walked into the pub Hunter was working in, you made a beeline for the bar and jumped to sit on the closest empty bar stool. Hunter looked over his shoulder, then frowned and approached you.
“You’re at a bar alone?” he asked, “What happened?”
“I’m not alone if I know the bartender,” you pointed at him and he tilted his head.
“What’s going on?”
You rapped your knuckles on the wooden counter, “Can I have something strong?”
His frown deepened and he reached out to mutter something to the other bartender, then turned to you.
“Coming right up,” he said and filled your glass with whiskey, then pushed it in your direction.
“Oh God,” you murmured before taking a sip, trying your hardest not to grimace at the burn in your throat. He raised his brows, leaning over to rest his elbows on the counter, his eyes focused on you.
“Let me guess, this is about—“ he looked around him before lowering his voice, “Barnes.”
“You could say he’s related to the situation.”
“What situation is that?”
Hunter frowned, “Sorry?”
“It’s just…” you trailed off, taking another sip, “Ugh never mind. She was a bitch to me just now.”
“I mean if you were cheated on as much as she was, you’d be a bitch too.”
You scoffed, “Hunter!”
“What? Bucky’s father had multiple mistresses all around the city, everyone knows that,” he winked, “Some even say he had kids.”
“I’m pretty sure that’s just gossip.”
“I’m pretty sure it’s not.”
“Well in any case,” you toasted with your glass, “She hates me.”
“Considering how Barnes has felt about you for years now, that’s not such a big surprise.”
You shrugged your shoulders, “He sees me as his friend, that’s it.”
Hunter rolled his eyes and filled your glass again.
“Sure he does,” he said, “Now drink up, I’m gonna make you try a cocktail.”
“And you know the drill, you’re my guinea pig, so if it’s terrible I can’t serve it to others.”
You downed the whiskey, then put the glass on the counter.
“Fine by me,” you said, “Let’s do this.”
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Steve and Bucky arriving late to an Avengers meeting:
Steve: Sorry, guys.
Fury: What's your excuse?
Steve: Uhm.. I- I was doing ... stuff.
Fury: And who are you?
Bucky: Stuff, apparently.
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Sight of Beauty | Bucky Barnes x Reader
Summary | Bucky joins you in stargazing, but he cannot help but to spend his time admiring you.
A/N: I kinda based this off of a dream I had a while back… it just melted my heart.
Thank you for your support :)) Enjoy <33
In the backyard of your home sat a beautiful patch of greenery made just for stargazing. You loved watching the stars late at night. You were indefinitely what people labelled as astrophile, nyctophile, or Selenophile; there was no doubt.
You had laid down your blanket onto the soft greenery, lanterns sitting beside you as you stargaze. You had your favourite jazz ambience playing through the headphones you had in your ears, a playlist that Steve had shown you a while back. The stars falling into place, and the moon shining bright in the sky. It was quiet, and it made you feel at peace.
Bucky had opened the front door, the lights were off, and Bucky immediately knew where you were. He set his bags down outside of the pair of your room, taking the flowers he brought for you outside. He stopped on the deck, watching as your head slightly moves side to side to the music he assumed would be jazz. One of your arms rested underneath your head, and your soft voice singing quietly in the distance.
This caused Bucky to chuckle quietly; walking up to you, he stood right at the top of your head, leaning into your view. Your sweet smile and eyes twinkled in the moonlight as you saw Bucky.
“Hey, Buck!” You smiled, taking your headphones out.
“Hey, doll.” He smiled, keeling down to kiss your forehead. Your eyes closed softly, embracing the kiss before moving your head up a little to kiss his lips.
“These are for you” Bucky handed over your favourite flowers, smiling. You sniffed them a little like anyone would do if they received flowers. You sat up while Bucky moved onto sit right behind you so you could sit in between his legs and rest your weight on his chest. “They’re beautiful Buck, thank you.” You sweetly thanked him. Buck leaned into your ear softly, whispering, “you’re most welcome doll.”
The pair of you looking up into the sky, you softly asked him how his mission when. Bucky had wrapped his arms around your middle, pulling you close.
“Successful.” He smiled, kissing the top of your head. Bucky began to sway the pair of you; there was nothing better than coming home to his girl and enjoying these moments with you.
“Glad to hear that.” You chuckled, resting your hands on his.
“How long have you been out here?” He questioned, “Only a couple of hours”, you replied before shutting your eyes.
“Only a couple?” He joked. “Mhm.. only a couple”.
Bucky sat there with you in his arms; these moments were the ones he always looked forwards to when coming home. Because you’d always be there, and Bucky admired you.
He was so lucky when you agreed to go on a date with him a few years back because it led to you both having one healthy relationship.
Bucky could hear your little excited squeals as more stars began to appear. Your reaction always brought a smile to Bucky’s face. You were indeed one of those kids who would scream in happiness if you’d gotten a new toy.
The sky full of stars was your present, and you looked forward to that every day. “Buckyyyy look at the sky”, you smiled. Bucky laughed softly “beautiful huh?” She asked him.
At this point, Bucky had his eyes on his girlfriend, smiling as your face lit up. “So beautiful”, he whispered into your ear.
Bucky rested his cheek on the side of your head, holding her close.
“So beautiful.” He whispered again, his eyes softly on you.
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