#I make a bucky appreciation post like every week but can you honestly say it’s a bad thing?

[mylovelies-docx]

Sorry, I Love You - Part 9

Oh wow, a new chapter? Who'd have thunk it.

My posting schedule is all off and I honestly don't know if I can get it back under control. I have no idea when I'll get time to sit down and write and when inspiration will strike, so I can't assure weekly updates. But I'll try my hardest to get this story out! I have future chapters written, it's just that I have no way of connecting them right now :/ Oops.

Plot: You and Bucky have a good thing going - best of friends that also have more than a little chemistry between the sheets. Everything is fine until you develop feelings for the man who doesn't want a relationship. What will happen when Bucky finds out?

C/W: Ah shit, here we go again. Angst, arguments, jealousy

Word Count: 2,250

Tag List: NOW CLOSED! If you'd like to keep up with this story, please follow my blog and turn on notifications! ❤️ you :)

[Prologue][Part 1][Part 2][Part 3][Part 4][Part 5][Part 6][Part 7][Part 8]

Some moments are easier than others. Sometimes you feel like you’re not pining like a love-sick teenager enough to think that you can actually do this – you can actually be friends with the man you love.

But then there are moments like tonight.

A few weeks have passed since community get-together, and you and Bucky are the new kids in town. Everyone drops by to say hello, leave you with enough food to last the winter, and invite you both back to their homes for dinner. It’s all very sweet, and you would appreciate the hospitality in any other situation.

But the amount of mothers trying to marry their daughters off to Bucky is insane. 

Several have not-so-subtley seated Bucky next to daughters of marriageable age, while everyone else is silently discouraged from interrupting their conversations. It skeezes you out when the girls are barely out of their teens, but most of the girls are around your age or older. Morality-wise, that’s a whole lot more appropriate. Internal monologue-wise, ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh doesn’t even begin to cover it. What you feel whenever he laughs at something they say, or looks at them with his intense blue eyes – it hurts. That’s how he used to look at you, once upon a time. Like his life wouldn’t be the same without you in it, like you’re one of the most important people in his world.

To be fair to Bucky, you probably read waaaay more into it than he ever meant. And you only ever really saw that look come out when you were straddling his waist and grinding hard on his cock, skin mottled with his teeth marks and wearing his metal hand as a necklace. 

Stop, stop, stop, stop!

Anyway,

You’re usually placed next to older, widowed relatives, as most of the young men in the town have already settled down and popped out a few kids with their spouses except for Petre. Tessa foists the two of you together at every possible opportunity, hoping you’ll hit it off and decide to get married in the near future. 

Petre is nice, smart, cute, but not really your type. You’re convinced that you’ve only ever had one type and he’s off-limits. But Petre’s company is much more enjoyable than the sad, lonely older men they try to pair you with – it never feels great to be compared to someone’s long lost love – so you don’t mind having someone around your age to talk during these things.

Speaking of.

“It’s a nice night, yeah?” Petre comments. The night is warmer than expected, but you and Petre are still bundled up in your coats as you stroll through the dead copse of trees near the latest dinner party. The sun had set only minutes ago and the stars are making their presence known. There’s next to no light pollution in this area, so you always take the time to admire the night sky when you have the chance. 

You often take walks with Bucky up and down your street as a way to decompress after your shifts at the HYDRA facility. After the first week or so of being everyone’s errand-runner, they’ve slowly built up your workload to include calculations and deductions based on redacted data – it’s not as much information as you’d like, but it’s enough to build a foundational understanding of what the experiment was about.

You hum in agreement and continue walking. It’s about time to turn around and head back, but you can’t bring yourself to return only to watch Bucky flirt with the pretty girls that were also invited.  

“Is something the matter?” Petre asks you.

You startle out of your petty, jealous thoughts. “Hm? Oh, no. Nothing’s wrong,” you reply with a smile.

“It’s just that you seem very distracted tonight,” he responds.

With your hands in your pocket, the only thing you can do is shrug your shoulders. “Just tired, is all. It’s been a long week at the office.”

“Ah, I know the feeling,” Petre commiserates. 

All of the sudden, a wailing, piercing shriek ricochets between the tree trunks and reverberates in your ears. Tensing with adrenaline, you take two steps forward, ready to intervene in whatever events are unfolding in the darkness.

Before you get much further, Petre reaches out and takes hold of your elbow. Turning you around, he starts leading the way back. You try to tug your arm from his grip, but he holds firm.

“The cry of a vixen who is looking to mate. They’re rather vicious creatures this time of year, foxes. We don’t want to get in her way,” Petre deters.

“But…” you begin, looking back over your shoulders and watching for unexpected movement among the swaying branches. “It sounds so real.”

“Terrifying, really. I was just as concerned when they began, as well.” Petre gives you a tight smile and relaxes his grip slightly when you stop trying to pull away.

“What do you mean?” you question.

“What?” Petre’s eyes flash around quickly, looking through the woods that surround you.

“‘When they began’. What do you mean by that?”

“Ah,” Petre replies. “When mating season began.”

There’s no more discussion on the eerily accurate sound of a woman in distress. You can only trust that Petre would know the local fauna and their habits better than you, since you’ve never spent an extended period of time in areas such as this.

***

The neighbor’s house finally comes into view. A lone figure stands silhouetted against the porch as they lean against the railings, their arms braced against the banister and posture rigid. When you get closer, you realize that the figure is Bucky. 

You can’t see his face, but you can feel his eyes on you. And apparently Petre can as well.

“He doesn’t like me?” Petre asks.

“Why do you say that?” The question puzzles you because Bucky has no reason to dislike Petre. He’s been incredibly helpful so far, allowing you to ask as many questions as you want about himself and others and he doesn’t seem bothered by it at all. In fact, you feel as if you and Petre have become friends.

“It just seems like he’s never happy to see me.”

“Oh, don’t worry about that – James just has RBF,” you reply nonchalantly.

“RBF?” Petre replies.

You laugh as you and Petre climb the stairs, only now realizing that he still has a hand on your arm. You’d forgotten all about it, but you miss the slight warmth that permeated through your jacket when he removes his touch. You turn to look at him, but Petre is looking away, his hands now deep in his pockets. Turning your focus onto Bucky, you see him watching Petre, his eyes squinted.

A large smile returns to your face as you reach up and grab Bucky’s chin, squishing his cheeks and making his lips pucker from the pressure. “This –” you say triumphantly, “is an RBF.”

Bucky glares down at you and swats your hand away. You cackle at the perfect example of Resting Bitch Face™ in front of you, throwing your head back in joy. When you right your posture again, you can see a small smile on Bucky’s face as he laughs along with you.

“Whatever,” he murmurs. He shakes his head in exasperation before circling his arm around your shoulders. Bucky begins dragging you back down the steps you had just ascended and you grunt in protest. “It’s time to go,” he says simply.

“Ugh, you’re so rude,” you say to him. Craning your neck as much as possible, you look back towards Petre who remains on the porch. “I’ll see you later!” you call backwards with a wave. Petre raises a hand in return, face hidden in shadow as Bucky’s had been.

Focusing back on the road in front of you, you can practically feel what little mirth Bucky had drains away. Looking up, you notice that his jaw is clenched and a hard look has entered his eye.

“What’s wrong?” Now you’re worried that something happened to Bucky while you were gone that has put him in a bad mood. Did someone say something to him? Did one of the women reject his advances? You can’t see who in their right mind would turn him down, but not everyone feels the same way about him as you do. But if it’s the latter, the guilt you feel only slightly outweighs the relief.

“You don’t think you’re spendin’ too much time with him?” Bucky says between clenched teeth.

A frown appears between your eyebrows as you continue to look up at him. “No?” you respond. “He doesn’t seem to mind.”

“Ofcoursehedoesn’t,” Bucky mutters under his breath, but you can still hear him.

You slide out from under Bucky’s hold, his agitation sparking flames of your own. “What’s that supposed to mean?” 

“You don’t think you’re leadin’ him on a bit, Y/N?” Bucky asks you.

You scoff. “What the fuck are you talking about?” 

“You’re always hangin’ around him!” Bucky quips back. “You’re flirting with him and walking out of parties together. All these people, Petre included, are going to think you’re pitching for an engagement.”

The hurt and pitiful feelings from earlier tonight come flooding back. Only this time, instead of feeling them for what they are, you combine them with the anger his comment brings. How dare he accuse you of leading Petre on? As if he isn’t doing the same thing to all those girls?!

“And what about you?!” you yell, the last word ripping its way between your lips and setting your tongue ablaze. “You don’t think you’re stringing all these girls along behind you? You don’t have any intention of getting into a relationship with any of them, either, do you?” 

As the words escape, you remember how Bucky sat you down and asked for a friends-with-benefits situation. Said he wasn’t ready for a real relationship, but tired of one night stands. How the two of you could help each other out since you weren’t seeing anyone either. The old resentment towards yourself and how you let yourself fall for someone wholly unavailable whiplashes back into your mind after months of repressing it. 

If he could ask that of you, does that mean he’s asked someone else? You usually arrive home later than him, but on some occasions that you are released early, he’s not there. Instead of asking where he’s been, you had just let it slide since it could have been construed as possessiveness. Like your feelings – that Bucky believes to be long gone – entitle you to his life. You hadn’t wanted to risk anything at the time, but now your mind can’t help running wild at the possibilities.

“It’s not like I’m screwing his brains out every time we’re gone!” You shout at Bucky. You had been walking down the road away from the house party which was on a street with few homes, so there’s nobody around to hear your fight. “We’re not in the bathrooms having quickies, he’s not fucking me against a wall, or bending me over his motorcycle! He hasn’t proposed we fuck around with each other until someone better comes along!” 

Your chest heaves with the effort of expelling these vicious words from deep within your heart, and you can feel a burning beginning to creep behind your eyes. You hate getting angry – hate that any strong emotion makes your eyes well with tears and makes you look weak. And in this situation, you are weak – weak against Bucky, weak against yourself, weak against the knowledge that the one man you’ve ever loved never felt the same way and never will. Your inability to keep yourself from falling for someone you knew you could never have? Your jealousy that he is probably sleeping with one or more of the women in town? That makes you weak. 

And you can’t stand to be weak in front of Bucky again.

“Newsflash, Buck: I know how it feels to be lead on by you and it fucking sucks!” You lower your voice slightly and take another step away from him. “I know that wasn’t your intention, and I didn’t feel that way at first, but that’s how I feel now.”

“You were my best friend, Y/N – I didn’t want to lose that!” Bucky exclaims. “And I genuinely thought we were on the same page!” He takes a deep breath and clasps his hands over his eyes before saying, “And seeing you run off with Petre all the time just reminds me of us – how we’d always sneak away to get some time alone. It’s just –” He drops his hands and sighs heavily, looking up at the star-studded sky and then back down to you. “I’m jealous.”

“You’re jealous?” You ask incredulously. “Why?”

“Because –” You can tell that he’s struggling to get this out, and if he hadn’t started this argument and accused you of wronging Petre, you might have been more receptive to what he’s saying. More understanding. But right now, your anger swallows all empathy and hope that his words would usually supply. “Because that could have been us,” he breathes. Bucky takes a tentative step in your direction, but freezes solid at the icy glare you send his way.

“No,” you say flatly, “No, it couldn’t have. You made that abundantly clear when I asked.”

You turn your back on him and start running, ignoring the sound of your name as you leave Bucky behind.

Part 10

Taglist: @jackiehollanderr @rabbitrabbit12321 @12345sebby @blackwood-bodecker-housewifeife @lauraashley93 @themorningsunshinee @happinessinthebeingg @nash-dara @calwitch @stany0url0calwh0res111 @pono-pura-vida @learisa @introverbatim @kentokaze @marvelogic @kaz11283

#bucky x reader #bucky barnes x reader #bucky x y/n #bucky fanfic #sorry i love you

[nickfowlerrr]

pretty when you cry - chapter twelve (b)

series masterlist / / chapter thirteen

pairing: dark!biker!bucky x curvy!reader (dark!soulmate au)

warnings: Dead Dove: Do Not Eat. 18+ ONLY. dubcon relationship. not a whole lot of Bucky in this part but the bit he is in, it’s mean!bucky. sad and needy reader. angst. steve makes an appearance. kind of a little bit of a cliffhanger - but not really. another short chapter.

words: 4.6k

notes: uhm. guys. i think..i think it’s almost over. chapter thirteen is probably gonna be the end. and honestly it would have been this chapter but i didn’t want to end on a split chapter if that makes any sense lmao so i pushed the last bit of what i had written so i can get one more whole chapter out of it. sorry that this one kinda ends on a little cliffhanger lol but i’m really excited to share the last bit to come. i’m not gonna say when i’ll post it bc i don’t want to make a commitment and not follow through when i know i’m gonna be busy these next few weeks, but i’m gonna be optimistic and say it won’t be super long of a wait. thank you all so much for sticking with me through this series. your support means the world and i’m so happy so many people have enjoyed it so far. i have so much love for all of you who have read this series, liked it, reblogged it, and what have you. you guys are the best 💗 anyway i hope you all enjoy this chapter (though there’s not a whole lot to enjoy 😅). feedback and comments are always appreciated, i love hearing your thoughts! and thank you to everyone who reblogs this, it means so much!

This is a DARK series!!! Please proceed with abundant caution.

After a few hours of rummaging and searching through every drawer, cabinet, and closet you came across on the first floor, you still hadn’t even made it upstairs. But there really wasn’t much to find and you had yet to come across anything interesting. The closest you got was a photo album he kept on a shelf in the living room. You flipped through it quickly, but didn’t really take the time to actually look through it before you set it back down, making a mental note to come back to it later. You didn’t know what you were looking for, if anything at all, but you wanted to keep at it.

It was around noon when you wandered back into the kitchen. Your tummy was rumbling and you remembered seeing a jar of peanut butter in the pantry. You put together a simple peanut butter sandwich and filled up the glass of water you had used previously. Deciding to go back out to the patio, you ate peacefully outside.

As you sat out there, you finally felt calm enough to really think.

You were here. At Bucky’s house. Alone for the time being. You decided to ignore for the moment what happened earlier in the morning, and chose to focus more on the events of last night.. And really everything that had happened before then.

You knew you had to accept that there really wasn’t a way out of this. And you also had to accept that there was a part of you, a bigger part than you’d like to admit, that was almost.. okay with that.

You knew that Bucky could be a bad guy. Mean and rough and selfish. But you also knew he could be good. Loving and caring and attentive. The two opposing sides of him had you reeling half the time, yet despite it all, you still longed for him. And he was right - though you wished to god he wasn’t. Every attempt you made to put more distance between you two, the stronger the pull you had to him became. Even here, now, a part of you was hoping he’d be back soon…

Really, you wanted him to apologize. His behavior earlier was completely uncalled for and unjustified. You didn’t deserve to be treated and left like that. And it honestly hurt your feelings.

You mulled over these thoughts and feelings as you picked at your sandwich. You inhaled a deep breath and took a second to just look around. Though you were essentially stranded here, it wasn’t too horrible a place to be. Bucky obviously took good care of the place and the idea of moving in one day was starting to sound less and less terrible. You could manage. The main concern really was the personal issues you had with Bucky. The way he could make you feel so.. Small. Weak. Dependent. You hated it. You had never needed anyone before. And the fact that you were starting to feel as if.. as if maybe it was true, that you did need him, it truly scared you.

Bucky normally seemed to care when you were sad or upset - like he just wanted to take care of you and make you feel better.. safer. But this morning, he was completely different. He obviously didn’t respond well to any thoughts of you leaving him. But his fear was no justification for being so mean. And you didn’t think you could handle it from him. It hurt too much. More than any other hurt you’d been subjected to in your life , and you had been subjected to quite a bit. But from him, it felt so much worse and hurt so much deeper.

But he did say you were his. Forever. And it seemed certain that he meant it. So say you did need him. At least he would always be there. He promised he would. He said he loved you. As scary as it was, you knew you loved him, too. In spite of everything.

You loved him.

You knew you couldn’t deny it any longer, but that didn’t mean you were going to allow yourself to be complacent in this relationship.

You bit your lip as you sat thinking, playing with the half of the sandwich in your hands. You weren’t sure how long you sat out there, but when you stood to go back inside, you felt a little more sure of yourself and like you had a better grip on things. You felt more confident than you had before, but truthfully, that wasn’t really saying much. Nevertheless, though, you thought that maybe this would be okay. This would work out eventually. You just needed to talk to Bucky now. Set some boundaries. If you were going to stop fighting this, to really be together, you had to make some things clear. With a renewed sense of clarity, you went back inside to continue looking around.

It was nearing 5 o'clock and as bored as you were, you just kept wandering the house, trying to ignore the anxiousness you were feeling at the fact that Bucky still hadn’t come back. This morning had set you on edge, and he was obviously upset, but you didn’t think he would be gone all day. Then again, you had said you wanted some alone time. Maybe he was actually listening to you. You wanted to believe that, but something was telling you that wasn’t entirely true.

You were upstairs when you heard the front door open. A wave of relief came over you when you nearly ran to the balcony of the stairs and saw it was Bucky. That was short lived, though, as he dropped some boxes in the living room and completely ignored you.

You walked down the stairs, taking one step at a time as he went back outside. You got to the door and as you passed the boxes, stopped. They were filled with a bunch of your personal knick knacks. You stood in front of the box, perplexed, before Bucky walked back in and set down more boxes next to the others.

“Wh-what is all this?” you asked, feeling like you were missing something. He didn’t answer you, though, just walked back outside. You took a sharp breath and followed him outside. “Bucky,” you called his name to no response yet again.

When you actually went outside the sight of a small uhaul stunned you. Where was your car? And why was Bucky unloading boxes of your belongings from a fucking UHaul? More importantly, was he really still ignoring you?

As you stood there looking beyond confused, you saw your car approaching up the driveway. You squinted trying to see who the hell was behind the wheel and weren’t entirely shocked to see it was Steve. He pulled up next to the truck and parked.

“You left before me, where the fuck did you go?” Bucky said to him as he approached.

“I didn’t go anywhere, I just wasn’t driving 90 miles an hour in that piece of shit car,”

“Hey,” you said, offended. Bucky didn’t acknowledge you, but Steve’s gaze shot to you. His eyes drank you in, the sundress you were wearing was beyond flattering on your figure and your cleavage was well on display in the sweetheart neckline.

“Hey yourself, honey,” Steve said almost flirtatiously, making you roll your eyes at him as he continued eyeing you, his gaze lingering where it shouldn’t. Especially not with Bucky right next to him. “That’s a pretty dress, really hugs those curves nicely, doesn’t it,”

You were shocked at his braiseness and instinctively covered your arms in front of you. You opened your mouth to tell him something, but Bucky stepped in front of you, blocking you from Steve’s view. “Grab the rest of the boxes then get this truck out of here,” Bucky ordered as Steve slowly walked backwards to the back of the UHaul, eyes never leaving you. You scowled at him as he went, a smile etched on his face.

“Go inside and start unpacking,” Bucky said to you without turning around.

“No. No, w-we need to talk. Now,” you said angrily, your full attention now back on him.

“Go inside,” he nearly growled, still with his back to you. You stood firm in your spot, refusing to move. You had wanted to talk about this morning first, but from the looks of things, this moving situation seemed more pressing at the moment.

“Why did you bring so much of my stuff, Bucky? I-I never agreed to moving in here,” you paused when Steve walked past you holding your shoe rack in one hand and a box filled with accessories ranging from hats, scarves, purses, and jewelry in the other. “What the fuck?” You moved to stand in front of him, you needed to talk to him and him keeping his back to you was upsetting you more.

“I thought you were just bringing a few of my things, why are there so many boxes? What, did you just load up my entire house? You didn’t even ask me, Bucky! You can’t just move someone into your home because you want to, are you insane?”

Still no response.

“You can’t just take over everything, Bucky. I have a life, ya know? Responsibilities. I’m not just gonna stay out here and play house with you. Especially when you’re ignoring me and everything I’m saying to you. You keep saying that I ‘just don’t get it’, but you’re the one who obviously isn’t seeing things clearly. You don’t get it. You don’t get me, and you’re not even trying to understand where I’m coming from, either.” You gave him a moment to respond, but he didn’t.

“Look if you’re not gonna talk to me, if you can’t even look at me, I’m not staying here a second longer,” you said before storming back inside to get your keys from Steve.

You didn’t look back at Bucky as you went, figuring he was just gonna act like nothing happened while he continued moving your things from the back of the UHaul.

You entered the house and found Steve lounging on the sofa in the living room.

“Oh good, you done fighting out there?” he said as he watched you walk up to him.

“Give me my keys,” you demanded.

“Mmm, I’m gonna say no.”

“Give. me. my. Keys.” you repeated, enunciating each word as you spoke.

“Are you pissed about the furniture, is that it? He just figured, he’s already got everything here, no point in bringing all yours.”

“What? No. I mean- wait, what? What did you do with my furniture?”

“Don’t worry about it. We got all the important and sentimental stuff for you. You’re welcome, by the way.”

“I’m sorry, do you expect me to thank you for helping him pack up my home without me having any say in the matter?”

He just smirked as he looked up at you from where he sat.

“Well, you don’t have to say it in words, I’m sure you can show me your gratitude some other way,” he said as he spread his thighs wider, seemingly inviting you in.

“Are you fucking insane?” you asked genuinely before he reached out and pulled your hand, bringing you closer to him. His touch was gentle and you could tell he was just playing with you, trying to ruffle your feathers. You weren’t sure why you weren’t as annoyed as you’d usually be, maybe Steve was growing on you, but you didn’t pull away as he pulled you in. In fact, you saw the lanyard of your keys sticking out from his jacket pocket and resisted the urge to roll your eyes at his idiocy. Instead you stepped in closer to him and smiled a tight lipped smile before leaning down, coming face to face with him.

“You’re being an asshole, and so is your friend out there. So, no. I’m not gonna say thank you. I’m just gonna go,” you said before quickly pulling your keys from him and turning to leave. You heard him chuckle, but ignored it. You didn’t have anything with you, and you were barefoot, but you didn’t care. Your phone was in your car, so at least you’d have that.

As you approached the threshold of the door, you were forced to backup as Bucky entered with the last of your things. He set them down, grabbed your keys from your hand and continued past you. You stood there a second, eyebrows furrowed in annoyance and confusion, and a tiny bit of hurt.

Bucky threw a different set of keys to Steve, which he caught easily. “Get back to the shop, the paperwork should be good to go. Have Peter take the truck back when you get there and then fill everyone else in on the new operations.”

“You gonna be there later?”

“I’ll call you.”

Steve got up and passed you on his way out, turning to look down at before he left. “Ya know, you’re starting to grow on me, sugar. Sure I’ll be seeing you around,” he looked back to Bucky, nodding his head at him, “Later, Buck,” And with that, he was gone, the door shutting behind him.

You turned expecting to see Bucky, but he apparently still didn’t want to deal with you as he was gone. You tried not to pout as you felt that same sinking feeling in the pit of your stomach that had been bugging you since the morning.

You walked into the kitchen and found him at the fridge.

“I’m not moving in with you.”

Bucky exhaled, clearly annoyed, as he shut the door to the fridge.

“You can’t just make life changing decisions for me and expect me to just go with it.”

“I told you,” he said as he turned on you, finally acknowledging your presence. “You don’t get to make the decisions anymore. I know what’s best for you. For us. End of discussion.”

“End of discussion? That’s it, huh? Just gonna go back to ignoring me, then?”

He didn’t respond as you stared at him, anger and hurt running through you and showing clearly in your eyes.

“Right,” you scoffed before you went back to the living room.

A few minutes later, Bucky emerged from the kitchen. You thought maybe he was going to talk to you, say something. Anything. But he didn’t. He just went upstairs, bringing a couple boxes of your stuff with him.

You were beyond annoyed. And you needed to talk to him. But what was the point when he just kept ignoring you? It felt like if you tried, it would lead to nowhere. But still, you had to. You couldn’t leave things like this for much longer. It was really getting to you. Huffing, you got up and followed him upstairs.

If anything, this was starting to feel like a punishment. Like ignoring you was his way of getting back at you for trying to leave, for saying that you needed alone time. You entered the room, hating that you were feeling more and more desperate for his attention.

“This isn’t fair,” was all you said, voice quite as he set down one of the boxes.

“I was trying to be honest with you. Trying to talk to you and work things out and this is how you react? You know, I am being more than reasonable and understanding given the circumstances, I’m giving you another shot, after everything. After all you did. And this - this is how you treat me?” You waited for him to respond. Or even just to turn to you. He didn’t.

“Goddamn it, Bucky, stop ignoring me!” you shouted. “Please,” you said, voice breaking as you stared at him, eyes pleading. You didn’t know what came over you, but you weren’t used to being ignored by him and his lack of care was making you feel terribly. You hadn’t felt this badly at his hands since the night he assaulted you. You had just started to believe he wouldn’t treat you like that again. Yet, here he was.

He walked up to you and held your face in his hands, looking down at you with pity.

“You did this to yourself. You need to learn your lesson, and I’m gonna make sure you do,” you whimpered slightly as he ran his thumb along your cheek, leaning his head down closer to you. “Don’t let those tears fall just yet, sweetheart. Save ‘em for when I’m fucking the last bits of stubborness out of you,” he said in your ear before giving your jaw a squeeze and letting you go entirely, walking toward the door. “I’ll be back later.”

“What,” you asked, sounding more upset than you would have liked to let on, despite knowing he must have felt it anyway.

“You’ve been gone all day. Where are you going?”

He kept walking, not answering you.

You followed behind him like a puppy running after their owner, but he paid you no mind. If you had seen the smirk on his face, no doubt you would have snapped out of your pathetic stupor, but you didn’t as he kept on toward the door.

“Bucky, please,”

Your anxiety almost had him turning around to comfort you on instinct, but he fought the urge to do so. He was set on making you see that it wasn’t just him. He wasn’t crazy, it was the connection between you. If you were denied your soulmate’s comfort the way you had denied him, you would act like he was. Just as needy, just as desperate. Willing to do anything for it. Not that he’d let you get that desperate. He knew you’d crack sooner rather than later. He could feel it. Because it wasn’t just him who needed you, you needed him in return.

He had to be sure you would see that. He had to be sure you realized it. And until he was sure, he’d be damned if he broke first. He could keep this up. To prove his point, he had to. And it wouldn’t take much longer.

“Wha-..what time are you gonna be back?”

“Late,” he said as he walked out the door. You stood in the living room feeling stupid for being so sad. And at the roar of his bike coming to life outside, you felt a tear slip down before you quickly brushed it away. You felt so unlike yourself.

You were crying over him leaving, which, granted, you had done before, but this time was different. You felt so much more pathetic. And he hadn’t even apologized. You should be angry with him. A part of you was, but moreso, you just wanted him to hold you and tell you he was sorry and that everything would be okay and he’d never treat you like that again. Because you were important and you deserved better than that and he loved you. Because he did love you. So why the hell wasn’t he acting like it. You went back upstairs and decided to just get ready for bed. You removed your dress and changed into pjs and did your nighttime routine.

You went back downstairs and got yourself more water, not bothering with food as you didn’t have much of an appetite at the moment. You wandered to the living room and picked up the photo album you had found earlier. You took a seat on the couch, which was a lot more comfortable than it looked, and started flipping through the photos on the pages. As you went through them, you essentially watched Bucky grow up through the pictures. He was a really cute baby. And his mother and sisters were gorgeous. Good genes, evidently. You didn’t see any photos of his father, but you didn’t really expect to.

A photo of him and Steve when they were kids made you laugh out loud before making you emotional. They looked so innocent. They were so innocent. And life had been so cruel to the both of them. It was easy to be angry at them. There was no excuse for why they were both such assholes so much of the time, but at the very least you could understand why they were as hardened as they were. Bucky, moreso. They weren’t always the jerks they are most of the time now. And maybe, one day, you’d get to see them as they were before. Before they let the world turn them so harsh. Maybe one day their facades would finally drop for good. You had seen Bucky be so gentle and caring and loving, you just wished he could stay that way instead of reverting back to being so cold and bitter and mean. Maybe if they could stop being so afraid of getting hurt again. If they could allow themselves to be human, for god’s sake, to feel their feelings, they could get that part of themselves back.

You weren’t saying you were Steve’s biggest fan or anything, but from the stories Bucky had told you, you knew he wasn’t all bad. He couldn’t be.

Teenage Bucky seemed to be quite the charmer from the looks of him in those photos. Him before dances, him with girlfriends, at prom, then graduation. Then there seemed to be a gap of time missing. You could easily guess as to why that was. In the photos following his teen years, he seemed to be in them a lot less. You saw pictures of Nat and Sam and Steve. Some of the guys you recognized from the bar and the diner, but had yet to meet. It seemed to you that Bucky was the guy behind the camera for these photos as he was not in the shot for any of them. It was pictures of birthday parties, halloweens, apparent vacations, and some just around the city and at work. Finally you came across one of just him. It was an obvious candid, he must have had no clue he was being photographed. It was outside of a garage, he was shirtless, metal arm on full display as he worked on a bike. And he looked so beautiful. Focused and attentive on his work. You almost wanted to take it and keep it for yourself before you quickly turned the page, shaking the thought along with it.

The last photo, and most recent, was the opening of the shop they had in town. Everyone was in it and you admired the looks of happiness on their faces. They looked, truly, like family. And Bucky’s brilliant smile was what you seemed to focus on as you examined the picture. Him and Steve were in the middle of the group as they all huddled in for the photo, it was touching when you didn’t think about the crimes they were surely committing and running out of said shop.

With a sigh, you put the album back where you found it before making your way back upstairs to Bucky’s room. Was it your room now, too? You thought briefly.

Suddenly, you paused your ascension up the stairs and remembered your phone. You quickly turned around and went back down, hoping that Bucky had left your keys somewhere. You were delighted to find them on the counter in the kitchen and ran outside to your car.

The thought of leaving briefly floated through your mind but, you didn’t really want to. Instead, you opened your car and found your phone right where you had left it, still on the charging cable.

The lack of notifications was a little disappointing, but in all actually, there were more than you normally received. A few texts and a missed call from Eva, a text from your sister, and a bunch of email and app notifications for nothing important.

After locking your car back up, you went inside and upstairs. You responded to Eva’s texts asking you if you wanted to hang out earlier in the day with an apology about having lost your phone. You asked her if she’d be up for a movie night on Saturday instead, even though you had no clue if that’d even be possible for you at the moment.

Your sister had sent you a video from TikTok and you were grateful for the short reprieve you found in it. It was your type of humor exactly and you didn’t know how badly you needed a genuine laugh until it came to you.

You went through your emails, half of them spam, and the other half trivial and unimportant.

You then put on some music and started unpacking the boxes Bucky had brought up. What was the use in fighting when he had already moved all of your stuff for you. You were sure there was use, somewhere in you, you just couldn’t find it.

You opened the closet and found it nearly empty. It was huge and there was so much space. Bucky obviously didn’t have much in the way of clothing. You took advantage of the room and hung up all the clothes you had that needed to be hung. And even after you did that, the closet was still nowhere near full. You moved onto the box filled with random knick knacks but didn’t really feel comfortable taking them out. Instead you put the box back on the floor and focused on getting the rest of your toiletries and makeup and bathroom things unpacked.

You were getting tired, but you wanted to stay up and wait for Bucky to get back. Your resolve was quickly crumbling, though, with each yawn that slipped from you. Your eyes were bleary as you checked the time and you decided to give up and go to sleep. You were thankful you weren’t on the schedule for tomorrow so you’d have at least another day to figure out your new situation.

You laid down on the bed but quickly got up, remembering the scene from this morning. You cringed internally then grabbed the comforter and removed the sheets from the bed. You remembered seeing the laundry machine downstairs and went to start a load. Feeling slightly grateful that you had a reason to stay up a little longer.

The sheets washed quickly and dried even quicker. The comforter took longer, but you didn’t mind. As you made the bed and rechecked the time, you were on the verge of passing out. It was nearing 10pm and you didn’t know how much longer Bucky would be gone for, but you couldn’t stay up much longer, either. And the sheets were so soft, the comforter so warm and inviting. You slipped under the covers and didn’t even turn off your music as you succumbed to sleep.

You didn’t know how much time had passed, but the sound of a motorcycle woke you up. You didn’t actually get up, though. You just laid there, debating on what you should do. A few minutes later, you heard the front door open and listened as Bucky came upstairs. You pretended to be sleeping as he came in the room, wanting to see what he was gonna do.

The sound of his clothes coming off was what you heard first before he went to his dresser and grabbed out what you assumed were another pair of sweats. He went into the bathroom and came out a while later. You were anticipating him getting into his bed, but he didn’t. Instead, you heard him leave the room completely. You laid there still as you waited for him to come back. But after too long passed, you realized he wasn’t going to.

You wrapped your arms around yourself as you tried to relax and tell yourself to just go back to sleep. But you couldn’t. You were about to lose your mind. You needed him. You needed Bucky. And you knew that’s what he wanted all along, but you didn’t care that he was forcing you into the realization. Because no matter what, he was right and you couldn’t deny it anymore. You just needed him. So you crawled out of the bed, and set on your way to get him.

#dark!bucky x reader #dark!bucky #dark!bucky barnes #dark!bucky x curvy!reader #dark!bucky x plus size!reader #soft!dark bucky #dark!bucky barnes x reader #dark!biker!bucky #soft!dark bucky barnes x reader

[buckysforeverprincess]

Us fanfic writers are going on strike for lack of feedback and appreciation we receive from readers, especially in the Bucky fandom. Please join our efforts. We deserve better. We deserve more appreciation. We deserve more blogs. Fanfic writers need to stop reading things from the shadows without leaving a review. We deserve better. Readers don’t deserve content we work on for hours, weeks, months, sometimes years, for free just to never interact with us. They need to learn that we need their reviews.

Thank you for your ask. I realize the timing is in response to me posting the sneak peek. This is the first time I’m hearing of this. I sat on this ask so I could give it some thought, weighing out the context and my own feelings. So here’s what I decided.

I joined Tumbler many years ago just to have fun, then I realized I could share my writing here with others who had the same likes I did. I started posting my work and drawing attention and followers. I’ve made friends, I’ve lost friends. I’ve had fun, I’ve had loss. Discussions were had, asks were sent, the list goes on. None of that would’ve happened if I hadn’t shared my fics.

I’m not a great writer, I honestly think I’m pretty bad, but sometimes someone gives me a compliment and it makes me feel like I’ve done something right. I get how a comment or reblog would make anyone feel. It’s exciting and validating, especially if you spent a long time writing out a fic. It makes you feel good and fan engagement makes you want to create more content. I get it. I understand it. But that’s not for me.

For me, writing has never been about reblogs and comments. At times it’s been therapeutic. Other times it’s just the stuff that popped into my head. But really, it’s just the stuff I want to share with others because I can’t share anything like this with my family or real life friends. I’ve been writing since I was a kid and every time someone found something I wrote it was heavily criticized and made me feel like I shouldn’t express myself through writing. So now that I found a place to do it, why should I depend on feedback? It’s appreciated, but never required.

I also thought about the fans that read and enjoy a fic but don’t know how to express what they liked about it, so they just press the heart. THANK YOU! I see you. Sometimes words fail us, or we can’t say the right thing, but we can press the heart. I appreciate you, and thank you for reading my work. I always hope it’s liked but my writing is really for me. Other people enjoying it is just an added bonus.

It’s true we don’t get paid to write. If we did we’d be published authors. It’s a good thing I see this as a hobby and not my full time job because my lack of putting out content for years would have me bankrupt 🤣

I guess my point is fanfic is supposed to be fun, so do that! The moment it stops being fun you should walk away. Never demand the readers leave comments or interact. I have lots of followers and no one sends me asks or talks to me. It’s cool and I’ve learned to vibe on my own. You don’t owe readers content and they don’t owe you interaction. If you choose to put out fics, don’t expect comments or reblogs, but appreciate them when they do come. It makes for a better overall experience when you’re not doing it for clout.

Thank you for making me aware of your strike. I hope you achieve what you’re looking for and I appreciate you asking me to join in, but this is where we part ways. Good luck in all things and carry on my wayward son. They’ll be peace when you are done. Lay your weary head to rest, don’t you cry no more!! ✌🏼🩶

#anon

[kazablanka96]

a thirst post is a thirst post

#I make a bucky appreciation post like every week but can you honestly say it’s a bad thing? #bucky barnes #buckybarnesedit #sebastian stan #sebastianstanedit #stucky #mcu #marvel #fysebastianstan #dailymarvel #dailyteamcap #mcufam #marvelheroes #dailymarvelgifs #mcuedit #mine #my gif set #stuckyedit

[allyouneedisbuck]

i don’t wanna do this (i don’t wanna lose this)

eighteen plus blog minors dni

summary -> it’s all fake, every piece of it scripted and perfected for the camera, even the upcoming break-up you pretend doesn’t break your heart.

words -> 2.5k

warnings -> fake relationship, use of name (bucky calls the reader by her character’s name, lucia, once) nickname uses (baby, sweetheart) co-workers/friends to lovers, no smut, not beta’d

notes -> this is for the lovely maera’s ( @ambrosiase ) hotel indigo writing challenge i absolutely love this idea mae and am so appreciative that you created this challenge, it really pushed me out of my comfort zone and i got to explore an entirely new au.  

room & service -> business meets pleasure with celebrity bucky barnes -> bucky and reader are co-stars in a fake relationship in a hotel for their final comic-con together.

— ➶ —

Bucky has been doing interviews with Sam all day today. 

You’ve been working together for six seasons and have both been to too many comic-cons to count. Every single one of them you and Bucky had been paired up to do interviews and photo-ops together. 

A scripted piece of a scripted relationship. Agreed upon when your characters romance began to pick up popularity and designed to look perfect until the end.

Tomorrow an article with be released ‘leaking’ the details of your perfect break-up too. A source close to the both of you will comment that wrapping of the show and being forced to go long distance just wasn’t working for you two. The writer will supply photos of today, the two of you avoiding sitting near one another and not speaking. They’ll write that their source confirmed this convention is actually the first time you’ve seen each other in months. 

Even more articles have already been planted periodically questioning whether the two of you were still together, generating buzz around the show and what happens between your characters. It’s a brilliant job, honestly.

Except, you and Bucky had been in a fake relationship for so long, it had begun to feel real. This distance between you two felt purposeful in a way that hurt you more than it ever should have. 

Your assistant is supposed to go through your instagram soon and begin archiving posts and pieces of your fake life with Bucky. He’s been glaringly absent from your social media recently and it makes your heart ache at the idea of him being nonexistent.

Your fans have noticed too. You read comment after comment all asking the same thing; What happened to you and Bucky? 

“Oh, Lucia! My dear, Lucia.” You bite down a grin at the sound of Bucky’s voice through your door. His words were filtered by the wall between you and a little slurred from the drinks he had no doubt consumed at the hotel bar. “Open the door, please.” 

You lock your phone and lay it on the bed beside you. “I’m busy, Bucky! Go bother Sam.” You call back despite already walking towards the door. 

“Bother Sam? On our last night together?” You can see Bucky smile teasingly though the peephole. Despite his joking tone the words hurt. “Four years together and this is how things end? Through a hotel room door?” 

His fist comes up to bang against the door and a hand comes up to his heart. He’s putting on a show for you, fully away of your eye watching carefully through the peephole. “How much have you had to drink, Bucky Barnes?” You ask as the door remains closed. 

Bucky holds his fingers up in a pinch too small to be true. “Not much.” When his hand falls back to his side he smiles up at the peephole. “Let me in, sweetheart. I’ve missed you.” 

You melt, becoming putty in his hand as you quickly move to unlatch the door. “I’ve missed you too.” You admit to him, face to face, as you lean against the door jam. 

A smirk replaces Bucky’s sweet smile as his hands reach out to grip your hips. “This break-up is tough on me, baby.” He pushes you into the room, kicking the door shut behind him. “One more night. One last time. You and me.” 

“Shut up!” You force his hands off of you and turn towards the mini bar in your room. “You’re such a dweeb. I’m glad we’re breaking up.” You pull out the miniature bottle of wine and twist the top off. 

Bucky’s hand slams across his chest as he falls against the wall in dramatic fashion. “You’re… Glad? My frail heart can’t take it,” he falls to his knees, “Please. Tell my mother, I loved her.”

You watch, unamused, as Bucky falls to the floor in front of you. “You’re obnoxious.” A beaming smile breaks out onto Bucky’s face that makes you grin.

“I was serious, about missing you.” Bucky moves to sit up with his back against the edge of your bed. You move to sit beside him on the floor. “These junkets and photos just aren’t the same without you by my side, cracking jokes in my ear.”

You rest your head against his shoulder. “Me too. I love Wanda, but it’s just not the same.” You admit quietly.

There’s so much that you want to say to him. What if this wasn’t fake? What if we didn’t go through with the break-up plan? “Did they send you our social media plan?” Bucky asks quietly.

“Yeah,” You swallow thickly, “I have my assistant going through my account for me soon. We’re supposed to start untagging and deleting photos of each other this week.”

Bucky snorts. “How fucking sweet. Four years together and they have us untag each other to confirm a break up.” His fingers tap against his thigh as the two of you sit on the carpeted floor together.

“Has it really been four years?” You ask quietly. It’s more of a question to yourself, but Bucky answers it with a nod anyways.

“My longest relationship ever and it was fake.” Bucky’s awkward laugh makes the air tense as he stares down at his hands. “I’ve wasted so much of my life. So many chances gone.”

You know the words aren’t said with ill intent, but that doesn’t stop the crack from forming in your heart. You can’t fathom the idea of all your time together, fake or not, being a waste.

Your eyes cut away from him in embarrassment. “Was it really all a waste?” You ask quietly. The words are unintentional, but that doesn’t change the fact that they’re out in the air.

“What?” You can feel his eyes settle on you in an attempt to read your face or body language, but a career in acting comes in handy. Your back is ramrod straight and your face turned away perfectly to hide the emotions in your eyes. “It was fake when we could have had something real with people we actually cared about.”

It’s a knife to your broken heart. “People we actually care about?”

“You know, like, other girls and guys who we wanted to pursue but couldn’t because of the contract.” Bucky reaches out to wrap a hand around yours, but you pull away. “I don’t understand what’s wrong here.”

You shake your head, the regret of your words settling over you. “Nothing. I’m just… It’s been a long day.” You use the edge of the bed to help you stand while Bucky remains on the floor, watching you in confusion. “I’m tired, you should go.”

“Woah. What’s this one-eighty?” Bucky stands too and follows you as you move around to gather your toothbrush and skincare. “Two seconds ago we were joking about a fake break-up and now you’re all quiet and weird? You expect me to just leave?”

“Please.” You plead. The last thing you want to do is dump all your feelings out to Bucky, on the last day you two were officially contracted to each other, and make him feel guilty for feeling free. “I just need to be alone, Buck.”

You move to push past him towards your bathroom, but Bucky’s hand wraps around your wrist. “Come on, sweetheart. Don’t do this closing yourself off thing.”

“I’m not.” You say stubbornly. “I’m tired.” You try again to move past him, but his grip only tightens as he forces you to actually face him. “Buck-“

“You can tell me, you know?” He says quietly as his grip slackens. Your eyes meet his, pools of blue staring back at you with something akin to hurt. “You can trust me. We’re best friends, right? You’re my-“

“You don’t have to lie to me, Bucky. Pretend to care. You can go back to the bar and…” You pull your hand from him and cross your arms over your chest. “And tomorrow we can start being with people we actually care about.”

Bucky’s eyes squeeze shut as his own words are repeated back and left out in the open between you two. “That’s not what I…”

“What did you mean then?” You cut him off. You want to sound angry, but your tone is sad and tired. “Enlighten me, please.”

“I just meant… I meant we could date who we wanted to date, I didn’t mean for it to sound so awful.” He answers quietly. “I care about you a lot. We’ve been friends for over half a decade, of course I care about you.”

You swallow thickly. “What if I don’t want to date anyone else?” You force yourself to ask. If not now, then when? Ten years from now at a reunion of your show? You couldn’t live with this what if.

“What?” Bucky’s hand falls from your wrist as he takes a step back like your words have burned him.

You push through the thundering of your heart and ringing in your ears to ask, “haven’t you ever thought about it? I mean, four years of just us, all those dates and premieres, was it really all just work for you?”

“I don’t know… I mean…” Bucky rubs a hand over his jaw as you stare at him expectantly. “Have you?”

“I asked the question I think that would imply…” You trail off as his answer weighs down on your mind. It feels like a no. No. No. No. It’s on repeat in your mind as you move to sit down on your bed. “After a while the dates and photos and sappy posts didn’t feel all that forced anymore.” You admit quietly.

Bucky paces silently in front of you. You’re unsure of what’s going through his mind as he does it and it’s all you can do to not tap anxiously as you watch.

“Why didn’t you say anything?” He finally asks when he finally pauses in front of you. You look up at him unsure of what to say. “I mean… When did you start…” He trails off like he doesn’t want the answer.

You look down at your hands in your lap. Despite your worries in telling Bucky you guess you had never truly thought of this conversation ending up this way. All these questions felt like Bucky preparing for a gentle rejection.

“I don’t know. After our second anniversary?” You keep your answer to him vague despite you being fully aware of when you started seeing Bucky differently. “That post you wrote for me that day. All the ones after. All of those words were fake?”

Your mind drifts to his words that day. The sweet and short caption had made butterflies erupt as you scrolled through the photos he had posted with it. Despite you both being required to post something, the photos he had chosen had been entirely genuine.

Pictures the two of you had taken together on set, selfies during your fake dates, and even a sweet set of photo booth pictures from your first premiere together.

You had stared at the post far too long as emotions rushed through you. Your heart raced at the idea of Bucky taking his time to pick photos that meant something to the both of you.

“I think that..” You shake your head in an attempt to rid yourself of the painful reminders. “I think you should go.” You stand up suddenly, your hands pushing gently at his chest.

Bucky’s eyes widen as his hands come up grip your arms in an attempt to stop you. “Woah. Let’s talk about this. I’m just trying to figure everything out.”

“Figure it out? What is there to figure out, Bucky?” You cry out, shoving harder. “If you don’t know how you feel then you should figure it out on your own.” You move past him to open the door.

Bucky follows after you hastily. “Sweetheart, wait, please. I just need a moment.” You grip his forearms tightly using Bucky’s own momentum against him as you guide him to the hallway outside your room. “I wasn’t expecting this. We have articles and photos and interviews planned about a break-up tomorrow.”

“I shouldn’t have said anything, Bucky.” The two of you are back where your night began. Opposite sides of the door as you stare, unsure of what to say. “Let’s just pretend this never happened, okay? The article will be published and we’ll confirm it and life will move on.”

The door slams shut in his face without warning, not giving him a chance to say anything else. You stare blankly at the ugly, green shade its painted in silence as you remind yourself; It was all fake. A script you had been given and followed to a tee. One you had gotten too caught up in.

You’re feelings don’t change the ending.

There’s a slow knock on your door. You suck in a breath as you move to open it an apology on the tip of your tongue.

“Bucky.” You’re cut off as his hands come up to rest on your cheeks and he pulls you towards him. Anything you had to say dissipates as his lips meet yours in a bruising kiss.

Your hands come up to grip his t-shirt tightly as you kiss him back your tongue slipping into his mouth while he pulls you flush against his body.

An arm wraps around your waist and Bucky pushes you back into your room, his foot kicking your door closed harshly.

The back of your knees hit the edge of your bed and you finally pull away to look at Bucky, but he speaks before you can say anything.

“Of course I’ve thought about it.” He breathes out. His eyes are wide with nerves and his cheeks flushed red. The sight of it mixed with his kiss makes your heart pound. “I’ve thought about kissing you for real, not in a room filled with crew and cameras. About what it would be like to be on a date where paparazzi hasn’t been tipped off. Baby,” his hands rest on your cheeks again as he forces your eyes to meet his, “I’ve thought about it all. What it would be like to be with you, to really be with you in every way. Sometimes it’s all I think about when we’re together.”

You take pause, your eyes widening and hands freezing in place as you listen to what he’s saying. “Why didn’t you say anything then? Why’d you just pace and ask me all those questions?”

“Because I’m an idiot.” He smiles brightly when you giggle. “Because I couldn’t believe you actually felt the same way. I was in shock.” He presses a gentle kiss to your lips.

You smile up at him softly. “What do we do about the article tomorrow?” You whisper your question.

You feel giddy with excitement as Bucky’s hands land on your hips to hold you in place, flush against him. “We deny it.”

“What about our managers?” Your smile doesn’t fade even as stress over the situation arises. “And…And our separate interviews tomorrow?”

“What are they gonna do? Fire us?” Bucky smiles. “We’ll tell them all about how in love we still are. That the source in the article was a dud and we’ve just been private recently as the show wraps.”

“We will?” You ask quietly. Your heart racing at his words. “You want to say all that?”

Bucky nods his head. “I do.”

You don’t say anything else he leans in for another kiss, you could worry tomorrow.

Bonus -> The Next Day

liked by buckybarnes, samwilson and 134,759 others

yourinstagram the final season of our show premieres this weekend and we’re so excited for you all to see how it ends. the first photo is from tonight and the second from our first season! the past six years has brought me so much joy and i’m so grateful for everything this show has given me. most importantly though, i’m thankful for you, bucky barnes. my adrian to my lucia. my best friend. my lover. thanks for making this show so fun.

View all 15,398 comments

samwilson we made a great show. love you guys.

buckyfan thought y’all were a pr stunt lmao

yourinstagram apparently you’re not supposed to really fall in love for those to work…

buckybarnes i am most grateful for you. you made work worth it every god damn day.

yourfan my favorite couple on and off the screen.

— ➶ —

notes -> this is my first ever time joining a writing challenge, it really pushed me to work through block and focus on this instead of letting is die out like i have with other projects despite liking them so much!

(hoping you guys don’t hate the extra instagram idea, i just felt it fit in!)

hopefully you enjoyed and if you did, reblogs are greatly appreciated!

#the hotel indigo writing challenge #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes imagine #james bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes x f!reader

[bvccy]

Hi!!! Hope you're doing great

Can I please have a mix between number 2 from the soft and 8 from the dark one

Thanks, lost of love ❤❤❤

Thank you so much, nonnie! I am so sorry this took so long, I meant to post yesterday but it wasn’t done. Also, the 8th dark prompt was requested just before you sent in this one, so that is filled separately here.

I tried to do the mix you asked for, and I took the liberty of writing this with Bucky (specifically 40s!BB), and I hope that it’s ok. It’s a bit of a more specific story, actually, that I’d wanted to write for a while. I also did a kind of first for me, because it involves Steve x reader as a backdrop 😂 Anyway.

Lots of love to you too, my dear! 💗💗💗

— PAIRING: soft!dark!Bucky x Reader • preserum!Steve x Reader — PROMPT: Asteria - gazing at one’s object of affection, from afar + Prassius - an impossible desire, and unclean love — LINKS: Masterlist • love stones prompt list — WORDCOUNT: 2.5k

It had taken long enough, and sometimes it seemed like it would never happen, but he finally found Steve a girlfriend — or rather, his girlfriend found him one. Dottie had exhausted several of her close friends and most acquaintances, but she knew how tired Bucky was of seeing his friend mope around, feeling like a third wheel, getting into trouble to pass the time. And honestly she liked Steve too, just not like that — but, wonder-worker that she was, Dottie found a girl that did.

She agreed to come on a double-date one night, and she and Stevie hit it right off. It was the first time Bucky met her too, and he didn't think much of the girl. Small, shy, not quite sickly-looking but not far from it, shoes a bit scuffed, clothes a bit too big for her and smelling of plain soap — in a word: perfect. She was perfect for his sickly, skinny friend who nobody else wanted, and by the looks of things, nobody had wanted her either because she seemed to have no idea what to do around a dance hall. As they were returning home that night, he even heard her confess to Steve that she had never been to one before.

They went out on two more dates, all four of them, within as many weeks. Bucky loved to dance, and Dottie too, but Steve and his girl weren't so fond of tripping over their feet and being laughed at. So they sat together at the table like a pair of broken toys, sharing an ice cream sundae, swinging shoulder-to-shoulder with the music when they liked the tune. Bucky waved at them when their eyes met, and they waved back and cheered at his dancefloor performance, but that happened less and less as they got caught up in each other. Steve would start to sketch things on the napkins while they chatted: the band, the sea of dancers, the fancy chandeliers, and eventually her.

"She said nobody's ever drawn her picture before," his friend said dreamily as they walked back, after they wished a good night to the girls. "Can you believe that?"

"Sure can…"

"She almost didn't let me do it. But she's so pretty, Buck."

"Mhm, nice girl."

"I mean yeah, she's no Dottie, but… I don't know, there's just somethin' I like so much about her… I guess her eyes, the way they look when she's smiling, or how her hair looks when the sun shines on it…"

"Get a load a' you," he grinned, wrapping his arm around Steve's shoulder in a playful grip that moved his friend's whole body. "One dame's sweet on you, and all of a sudden you're Romeo."

"At least I'm not a punk like you," Steve teased, slipping from his grasp.

"You know what I like best about her?"

"What?" he asked, with a hint of jealousy.

But Bucky smirked without a care. "How she keeps you out of trouble."

It had, indeed, been a while since Steve got in an alley brawl, and by their fifth date his last few bruises healed. He'd almost gotten into one by a cotton candy stand at Coney Island, but his girl was there to pull him back.

"Stevie, leave him alone…"

"You heard what he said?!"

"Who cares," she sighed, clinging to his arm and throwing the other man a hateful look. "Come on, didn't you want to win me that stuffed teddy bear?"

"Better listen to your girl, pal."

"Oh go find a sty to wallow in," she hissed.

"I ought'a smack some manners into you, you two-bit broad!"

"I'd worry about my own manners if I were you, buddy." Bucky slipped between them, coming from behind, standing now close enough to punch the guy if things got heated. But, seeing himself outnumbered, the other man cursed them and left. Just then, Dottie finally caught up.

"What's going on?" she asked, a little out of breath.

Bucky turned around, and was met by the heart-melting sight of Steve and his girl holding each other, her hands on his cheeks as she quietly chastised him, but loving enough that it made him smile and giggle. She closed it with a kiss to his cheek that made the boy blush, and a kittenish rub of their noses together.

"Nothing, everything's fine."

It was around the time they went to see a movie together that Bucky's joy for Steve turned into something else. They sat in the back while some musical played, and through the flashing lights and the corner of his eye, he could see his friend with his sweetheart holding hands on top of her lap throughout the whole performance. Meanwhile Dottie kept rubbing up against him, sometimes leaning her head on his shoulder, daring in the darker scenes to kiss his neck, but when she tried to get more of his attention —

"Buckyyy, what's wrong?"

— he shook her off. Hearing his name spoken by her voice suddenly felt disappointing.

He caught himself staring more and more, and not just when they went out together. Sometimes, the girl came by and spent some time with Steve, looking at his newer sketches, trying her hand too — oh and how disgusting they looked, Steve taking advantage of the situation to sit behind, and wrap his arms around her, and whisper in her ear. The pair greeted him cheerfully when he stepped through the living room and caught them, and he grinned back at them as he took a glass of milk, but all his appetite was gone.

And when they walked together through the park, and he saw them holding hands again… When Steve dug for some change to get her an ice cream, and they giggled stupidly as they made a mess of sharing it… When she fell asleep by his side one night at the dance hall, and Stevie woke her up with a tickle down her cheek, and she shivered and murmured like a bird and hid her face in his unworthy shoulder…

"Why don't you ever wanna dance, doll?" he asked as they were fetching drinks.

"Not much good at it, I guess," she shrugged. "The fast ones make me dizzy and I always trip."

"I can teach you. It'll work out great! Stevie teaches you to draw, I teach you how to dance… What do you say?"

The girl seemed to think, but shook her head. "Hmmm… No, not right now. Thanks," she smiled politely. "Besides, what would Stevie do meanwhile?"

She told him no just for the sake of keeping his scrawny little friend company, and Bucky had never felt more insulted — not that she wouldn't dance with him, although that hurt enough, but that he couldn't remember the last dame that gave something up just to stick with him, or got into fights for him, or kissed his wounds away, or held his hand in hers with no ulterior motive, and he'd found a girl that did that, and he wasted her on Steve.

So what if she was a little on the smaller side? So what if her dresses didn't fit right? So what if she came down with the cold at every change of season? He put up with it for Steve and he wasn't half as charming. The girl, instead, looked very delicate, more feminine in her own way, like when she braced her fingers on a table as she talked and mindlessly swung back and forth, animated in whatever she was saying, and her digits bent in such a childish way he feared they'd break, and it only made him want to kiss them. Or when she took her shoes off when she came to their apartment and he could catch a hint of shapely ankle, just perfect for his grip, or a peachy pink instep small enough to fit his palm. And when she fell asleep on their couch that one time and Bucky saw her all curled up, and noticed the arch of her hips and the cinch of her waist and pictured how good it would feel to hold them, and angle them upward, and…

Slowly, he started to appreciate some of what his friend had said that night, because she did have lovely eyes, and hair that looked so soft and warm, and her scent, unburdened by perfume, was sweet and girlish, and her lips looked kissable, and her wrists and knees and ankles too…

"Going out again, tonight?" he asked as the blond boy fixed himself in the mirror.

"Yeah, she wants to try this new place we —"

"Alright, alright…" sighed Bucky, already sick of hearing more. "So, that's all you're gonna do?"

"Well… yeah."

And then he voiced an evil thought. "Don't you ever want to… you know?"

"Y-you think we should?" Steve asked, turning away from his pallid reflection.

Bucky sat sprawled across the couch, and shrugged. "If she really likes you, she'd be up for it, don't you think?"

"I don't know about that, Buck."

"No? Ok," he nodded. "After all, what do I know?"

The aftermath of this particular advice was a draught of dates for poor ol' Steve, because just like Bucky had expected, the girl shrinked at the suggestion and couldn't stand to see him. For a while.

"Can you believe it, Buck?!"

"Yeah…"

"She'll see me again!"

"That's great, Stevie."

"What's wrong? You're lookin' real dour today."

Bucky knew he shouldn't. "I just…" He knew that it was wrong. "Look, it's great that she's forgiven you, but you gotta be realistic about this, pal." He had been happy for Steve at one point, long ago.

"What do you mean?"

But that was before he saw just how much love a girl could give, and realised he'd never felt it.

"Just don't delude yourself this is anything more than what it looks like, ok? She's only forgiven you because she knows nobody else will have her."

"That's mean, Buck."

"Yeah, well… I'm just looking out for you. You're my best friend, you know that. I don't want you getting hurt." It stuck in his throat to say it, but the bitterness stuck more.

And after Steve went to bed that night, Bucky took out the box of candy and the pricey perfume he had bought for her, threw them in the trash, and firmly promised to himself to never wait too long again.

But as he learned a bit later on, when they went back to double-dates, he might not have had a chance at all, because there was an unwitting element of truth to this cruel tirade.

"I can't exactly blame you, honey," Dottie consoled her as they stood in line for the ladies room, not knowing Bucky was just behind the thin divider leading to the men's. "If he does something like that again, I know this other fella —"

"Oh no, Dot, please… We're fine now. He explained things and… he's really sweet, I think he just had a moment of —"

"But just let me introduce you to Jim, see if you don't like him better."

"I… I don't know."

"He's a real charmer," Dottie grinned, "and he has these big, broad hands, jaw like an anvil. He just broke it off with Marcie cause she was a flirt."

He didn't hear anything next, but the girl must've shook her head cause Dottie asked, "You're sure?" and "Really? Well, if you change your mind…"

"Thanks, Dot," she lightly laughed.

"I don't know why you're so stubborn though, it's not like he's that far out your league. You just need to fix your hair a little bit and get a better brand of powder."

"It's not that easy."

"It's all it took me to get Bucky on my arm. That, and a better set of heels," she laughed.

"Yeah but you've always been pretty, Dot. Like, really pretty, and you know it. I guess some girls are for the James Barnes of this world, and some are the for the Steves."

She giggled as she said it, with not a hint of anger or resentment, and that's what stung the worst.

Bucky arranged to go see a late night movie with Dottie after that, while Steve and his girl went back to the apartment to listen to a boxing match on the radio and have some cherry sodas. Dottie went ahead to buy the tickets while Bucky walked them home, and after wishing him good night, she went upstairs to set things up. Steve was meant to go to the store and buy the drinks, but he stayed to chat with his friend a while.

"I can get some eggs and milk as well while I'm at it," he offered, swinging on his heels with his hands in his pockets.

"Sure."

"Or do we have enough for breakfast tomorrow?"

"Go ahead and buy them, pal," Bucky smiled, pretending to be less tired than he felt.

"Ok. And what about — darn!"

"What is it?"

"I just realized, I forgot to give her the keys," he said, taking a hand out of his pocket and holding them out. "I gotta get to the store, can you go up and give them to her?"

"Er, why don't —"

"You know I always trip on the stairs when I'm in hurry, Buck, they haven't changed the lightbulb yet. Don't make me do it."

"Fine, I'll go."

"I owe you big."

"You always do," he grinned, and took the keys from him.

Steve made off for the corner store, while Bucky started the long slow climb upstairs. It was completely dark inside at that hour, and the few candles some neighbours left to light the way had all gone out.

"Stevie, is that you?" he heard her call, standing right outside their door.

He kept one hand against the wall and walked his way toward her, stopping as he heard her whisper, "I think I lost the keys."

Blindly, she moved her hand forward, coming right across his chest. He felt her jolt at the unexpected contact, then burst into a giggle. Bucky could already feel the fanning of her breath right at the level of his chin. With an unseen smile, he took her hand, and placed the keys within it.

"Oh," she laughed. "You had them."

As her hand closed around them his own moved up her shoulder, fingers threading around her hair, and as he touched her jaw he felt her tilting slightly upward, shivering under the feeling.

"Is everything alright?" she asked.

He felt the warming tickle of her breath as he leaned close until, through the pitch black, he touched his lips to hers. Bucky did it lightly, just a little, just enough to taste and sip a kind of love he'd never really had. She stood surprised but took his kiss, and he felt her smiling into it, even beginning to kiss back just as he was parting from her.

"Your lips are softer than before," she giggled, in a sweet but altogether crushing way that made Bucky's heart beat stronger. "Stevie?"

Her hand moved through the air to touch him but felt nothing anymore, and down the stairs the heavy steps echoed, moving downward and away.

#James Buchanan Barnes #Bucky Barnes #Steve Rogers #Bucky Barnes imagine #Bucky Barnes fanfiction #Bucky Barnes x reader #dark!bucky barnes #Steve Rogers imagine #Steve Rogers x reader #40s Bucky Barnes #preserum Steve Rogers #bv;answers #bv;fanfiction #bv;oneshots

[bibbidibobbidibucky]

cleaning up | b.b

Pairing: Bucky x fem!Reader

Summary: Y/N helps Bucky get clean after a long mission and pampers him.

Word Count: 1K

Warnings: Mentions of past sexy times and honestly I think that is about it.  The rest is just pure sweet fluffy fluff.

A/N:  So the new episode got me feeling all kinds of ways so here we are lol. Excuse me for poor editing! 😂 Feedback is always appreciated and I hope you all enjoy! 

It was half past ten when you got a text as you settled into bed.

Bucky: Finally on the way home. Meet me at the tower?

Y/N: Of course! ITA?

Bucky: About an hour.

Y/N: I’ll get dressed and head over there now! Can’t wait to see you. 💕

Bucky: Can’t wait to see you too beautiful.

You didn’t waste any time getting dressed and headed straight to the tower. It had been a long three weeks without seeing Bucky and you couldn’t wait to just be able to hold him, to kiss him.

Once you arrived you headed to Bucky’s room to begin the little ritual the two of you had since your early days of dating. After he got back from missions you would join him in taking a long hot bath together. It was a way to reconnect and to just be close.  After the first time it soon became a favorite of Bucky’s. He loves how attentive you are with him, how he could feel your love from a simple touch.  It helped wash away all the memories of the mission and made him focus on what was important and right in front of him, you.

“Miss Y/N, Mr. Barnes and the rest of the team have landed.”

“Thank you Friday.”  You still weren’t used to the AI system and didn’t know if you ever would be.  

By the time the water was done filling the tub you heard Bucky call out your name as he entered his room.  Your heart fluttered and you smiled wide as he came into view.  

“Hey you.”  You giggled as he picked you up and spun you around as you embraced.  God had you missed him.  No matter how many times you were apart it never got easier but it made the reunions all the more spectacular.

“Gah I missed you doll.  Missed my best girl.”  He buried his face in your neck as he inhaled your perfume.  That smell always reminded him that he was home and was in the arms of the woman he loved.

When you pulled away you couldn’t help but just smile up at him.  Your eyes roamed that beautiful face and took in all of its features.  From the little freckles that adorned his skin like stars to those grey ocean eyes you could spend forever in.  

Then those lips met yours and the whole world melted away.  Kissing Bucky always had that kind of affect on you and you hoped that that never changed.  You missed those lips the past few weeks and you made a mental note to get as many kisses as you could before he left on his next mission.

“Come on.  We don’t that water getting cold like last time do we?” You could help but tease him as you thought back to the last time you did this.

It was two months ago and in the midst of helping Bucky undress the two of you ended up making love against the bathroom counter, twice.

Bucky smirked as you started to undress him and could tell you were thinking about last time.  He was tempted just to take you against the counter again.  Hell, if you asked him he wouldn’t even hesitate.

“Wasn’t my fault last time I told you.  You knew what you were doing with those wandering hands doll.”  He chuckled and placed a gentle kiss to your temple.

You bit your lip and smiled as you let his tactical gear hit the floor.  He wasn’t wrong.

“Get your cute butt in the water.”

“Yes Ma’am.”  He winked and smirked before moving over to the tub.  

You watched him sink down into the water as you undressed and you could tell he was relaxing all ready from the soft sigh that escaped his lips.  He leaned his head back and sunk down into the warm water a little more before he closed his eyes.  Seeing him like this, at peace and safe, always made your heart happy.  God knows he deserved all the tranquility he could get.  He was missing his favorite thing about the post mission ritual though and that was you.

“Come on Y/N don’t make me enjoy this all alone.”

He reached his hand out and you took it as you slipped down in front of him.  He pulled your back into his chest and this was where the two of you just needed to be.  Safe and in each other's warm embrace.  

You laid your head back against his shoulder and turned your head to nuzzle your face a little into his neck as his arms wrapped around your waist.

“Missed you so much, Buck.”

He never got tired of you saying you missed him.  That someone as remarkable as you could miss and love someone like him.

“Missed you too sweetheart.  Missed you every single day.”  He kissed your head and pulled you closer.  

You eventually turned in his arms and smiled lovingly at him as you started to wash his hair.  Pampering him in any and every way after missions was important to you.  You told him time and time again that you just wanted to take care of him and to have him unwined as best he could.  

Your eyes scanned over his body and noticed a few cuts and bruises, nothing new.  He would always come back with some but this time there seemed to be fewer than usual and for that you were thankful.  

“You cut your hair.”

You lifted your head as you were pulled out of your thoughts and smiled a little.

“Just a trim.  Nothing too exciting.”

He just smiled and let you finish rinsing his hair.  He always noticed the tiniest things about you sometimes.  None of your old boyfriends ever noticed when you got a haircut or anything like that.

“Well I like it doll and you’re still the prettiest girl this old man has ever set eyes on.”

You laughed as you playfully splashed a little water at him before grabbing the wash cloth.

“Always the charmer.  You’re still gonna be pulling that when you’re 150?”

“Guess we’ll just have to see won’t we?”

You laughed again and took his vibranium arm in your hands.  You began washing it carefully, always sure to get every single inch of it.  It never ceased to amaze you.  You could say that about all of Wakand’s technology if you were being honest with yourself but this one was special because it was attached to the man you love.  So you always made a goal to take good care of it when washing him, just like any other part of him.

“You seem more at ease than you have in the past when you come home.  That mean everything went okay?”

You don’t tear your eyes away as you clean his arm and you feel Bucky’s free hand gently move along your thigh.  The simplest of touches and it sent chills along your body.

“It was definitely one of the easier ones we’ve been on recently. Can’t complain about that except that it kept me from you for almost a month.”

His right hand moved to cup your cheek and he caressed it gently with his thumb.  You leaned into his touch and sighed softly as you placed your hand over his.  You hated being away from each other for weeks on end but that was part of his job and you couldn’t ask him to stop that.

“How do you feel about taking a trip? Just you and me for a week somewhere.  We can go anywhere you want.”

Now that surprised you and you looked at him a little wide eyed.

“Really? Anywhere?”

You smiled wide and he nodded as he pulled you into his arms.  He pressed his lips gently to yours, kissing you soft and slow.  Emotion poured out of that kiss.  Telling you how much he loved you and so much more.

“Anywhere.”

Your heart fluttered and you pressed your lips back to his as you smiled into the kiss.  Soon the two of you would be somewhere where you could just bask in each other's presence.  That’s all you wanted and he was giving you that.

“How about we discuss a location as we get ready for bed?”

“Deal.”

fin.

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes fanfiction #Bucky Barnes drabble #marvel #james buchanan barnes #talley writes

[honeypiehotchner]

i knew you (Bucky Barnes soulmate AU) -- part one

I know, I know. I just finished a story and I started another one and now I’m posting a different one...I’m insane. But I’ve had this idea for a while, just never wrote it down until last night! Enjoy xx.

Also! It’s Bucky x Reader, but it might read as Steve x Reader. I promise it’s platonic!Steve x Reader, though. Steve has no intentions of stealing Bucky’s girl. He knows Bucky would haunt his ass if he did (this is set in The Winter Soldier movie, so Steve still thinks Buck is dead).

Warnings: just some general sadness and angst, mentions of depression, it’s angst city honestly it made me cry

You watch as the old footage replays of Bucky’s wide grin. The only kind of smile that his best friend, Steve Rogers, could draw out of him with one single look or gesture. The only kind of expression that knocks the wind out of your lungs and sends chills down your spine.

“Best friends since childhood, Bucky Barnes and Steven Rogers were inseparable both on schoolyard and battlefield. Barnes is the only Howling Commando to give his life in service of his country.”

You hastily wipe a tear away. It’s been months since you put the pieces together. Months since your parents told you that they had known for years. Months since they told you they didn’t want to tell you because they didn’t want to see you hurt. 

Months since you’ve realized the man you keep seeing in your dreams is Bucky Barnes.

At first, you thought you were crazy. People dream of faces they’ve never seen all the time, right? 

Soulmates are said to be rare, but not nonexistent. You’ve always thought they were real, just that the world was so cynical to really talk about them. The idea that there is one person out there whose soul is connected to yours is exactly the kind of thing that would send this generation walking the other direction with their middle fingers raised and eyes rolling in disbelief.

Then you started remembering your dreams. You started to see his face more clearly. Granted, you had no idea it was Bucky that you were seeing. 

You came to the Smithsonian almost half a year ago now with your best friend. She realized you both had never been before, and she basically said fuck it one day and took you with her. Her exact words were, “How have we gone to college here for a year and a half and we’ve never been to the damn Smithsonian?”

You weren’t expecting to meet your soulmate that day. 

Of course, you use the word “meet” very loosely. Your soulmate isn’t alive, which explains the emptiness you feel on a daily. It’s been said that soulmates can feel what the other is feeling. Often times it’s muted, but recognizable. 

You got to see his face, to finally realize that it’s Bucky. The Bucky Barnes. 

It sounds ridiculous — and God, you love your best friend for not calling you pathetic that day — but when you walked up to the very exhibit you’re standing at right now and saw Bucky’s smile...you knew. Instantly, you knew. And it moved you to tears.

It was like your soul had finally found her counterpart, here, grinning like a madman next to his best friend, all the way back in the 1940s. 

Your parents knew simply because of things you would say, offhandedly, without even realizing it. 

Your interest in WWII caught their attention, but it surprisingly didn’t last long -- only from about the time that you turned thirteen to a few months before your fourteenth birthday. You would’ve found Bucky a lot sooner had your interest in the war itself lasted much longer, but it didn’t. You wonder now if you subconsciously knew it was Bucky, but steered yourself away from it in an attempt to save yourself the heartache at such a young age. 

Your taste in music has been the constant that they didn’t quite understand at first. You listen to modern tunes, sure, but you’re a sucker for the music of the 40s. Even clothes. You sometimes found yourself leaning toward the styles of the 40s in subtle ways, not realizing it. 

The true confirmation of their suspicions came, though, when your mom said she heard you say Bucky’s name. The first time was on a road trip. You had fallen asleep in the car. You were sixteen at the time. You were dreaming and you have no recollection of ever saying his name. You weren’t even aware that you said his name while you were dreaming until she confessed that day.

You haven’t told anyone about it. Your best friend doesn’t even know. She still believes you got too excited about seeing Steve Rogers and Bucky Barnes, that’s all. She doesn’t know the real reason, the real aching pain that you feel every day. 

The only thing that eases the ache is this. Hogging this exhibit. Watching the footage over and over again. Watching Bucky’s smile and being unable to hold back your own, despite your tears.

You know the staff must think you’re delusional. Somehow you haven’t cared enough to entertain the thought. But you have seen the security guard give you strange looks when you walk in almost every other day.

It used to not be this bad. You came every day for a few weeks, but then you were able to calm down to once a week, sometimes twice a month, if you were too busy with school to think about Bucky much.

But lately, something has changed. You don’t know what it is. You still feel the emptiness, but something is different. It’s...troubled. That’s all your mind can come up with.

It makes no sense, though. How can Bucky be troubled? He’s dead. You believe in ghosts and all -- you’ve never been given a reason not to -- but you’ve heard more stories than you can count from people whose soulmate has died. They all say the same thing. They felt it when it happened. Because it was like a switch was flipped. They were feeling everything one moment, and the next, it was all gone. Empty.

Empty. How you’ve felt since the day you were born. You’ve been to therapists and they all told you the same thing. It’s just your thinking. Change your thinking processes. You’ve never slipped or spiraled far enough for it to be classified as a depressive disorder or anything else, just...empty.

When you found out about having a soulmate, and even more so when you found out it was Bucky, you still felt empty, but not as much. It was like everything suddenly made perfect sense. The emptiness had a purpose, a reason for existing.

When you see him smile, everything makes perfect sense. You feel like you have a reason to exist.

“Excuse me, miss?”

You slowly drag your eyes away from Bucky, preparing yourself to deal with a disgruntled museum-goer or staff member complaining about how long you’ve been standing here. But that’s not who you see.

He’s wearing a hat, but the resemblance is unmistakable.

Quickly, you glance at the video before looking back to the person beside you. That’s him. Steve Rogers.

“Hi,” you say hesitantly, quietly. He’s obviously hiding, which he is right to do. If anyone got wind of Steve Rogers walking around here, there would be mass chaos.

“Hey,” he replies just as quiet. “Um...Wanna get a coffee?”

You have no idea why he’s asking, but you nod anyway. Who would say no to coffee with Captain America?

Outside the Smithsonian and down the block, you bring Steve to your favorite spot to get coffee. Your best friend turned you onto it when you first got here for college, and you’ve gone here weekly ever since.

After grabbing your coffees, you pick a table far enough away from everyone else on the patio to talk without anyone listening in.

“So, uh…” Steve exhales, shifting in his seat. “Are you okay?”

“I’m okay,” you shrug, holding onto your cup with both hands. “Why did you ask me to get coffee?”

“You looked familiar,” Steve says, slowly. “What’s your full name, if you don’t mind me asking?”

“Y/N L/N. Why?”

“Y/N…” Steve mutters under his breath, a crooked smile crossing his face. “I can’t believe it’s you.”

“Huh?”

“Bucky used to talk to me about you,” Steve continues, and you swear your heart stops. “He had me draw pictures of you. He couldn’t draw for crap, but he kept describing you to me from his dreams. I’ve drawn so many I’d recognize your face anywhere.”

“He dreamt about me?” You whisper. “Really?”

“All the time,” Steve nods, smiling sadly. “So you’re his soulmate?”

“I guess,” you say. “My mom says I used to say his name in my sleep all the time. I dreamt of his face, too, but I never knew it was him. Until my friend took me to the exhibit a few months ago.” You pause. “It sounds stupid. But seeing him there makes me feel...better.”

“I’m sorry,” Steve says suddenly. “It can’t be easy being born in a completely different generation.”

You smile softly. “Thank you. I’m sorry, too. I can’t imagine how hard it is to still be here after all this time. And without your best friend, too.”

“Yeah, it hasn’t been easy,” Steve admits. “But thanks. I appreciate it.”

“If it’s not too much to ask,” you begin, pausing to think about if you’re going to regret this. “Would you tell me about him? Just anything. It doesn’t have to be anything profound, just...anything you want to talk about. But if it’s too hard, don’t worry about it.” You wave your hands in front of your face, already preparing yourself for Steve to politely turn you down.

But he doesn’t.

“Bucky, he…” Steve pauses, shaking his head. “He was a lot wealthier than me back in the 40s. I had no business acting the way I did, picking fights with people three times my size, but I still did it. And Bucky was always there to pick me up off the ground and give me a ride back home.”

“Yeah?” You chuckle. “You used to be super skinny, right?”

“I was really sick, actually. Bucky had every reason to treat me like anyone else, but he never did. We grew up together -- though I used to joke that he grew up. I stayed the same size. But he never made fun of me for it.”

You can’t help but grin. “That video in the museum -- his smile. I see it in my dreams all the time.”

“Yeah, yeah that was Bucky’s signature grin. He could give any woman that smile and they were his.”

“I can see why,” you admit quietly, averting your eyes when Steve raises his eyebrows. You change subjects, not wanting to talk about how attractive you find Steve’s dead best friend -- despite him being your soulmate. “What was his favorite thing to eat for breakfast?”

Steve takes the bait, and for the next four hours, the two of you sit on the patio, talking about Bucky Barnes. 

His favorite color? Your eyes. Which you think is a little ridiculous, but Steve swears it’s the truth.

His favorite thing to do? Go dancing. Hands down.

His favorite thing to talk about? You. Again, you give Steve a stern look, and again, he swears it’s true. But when he wasn’t talking about you, Steve says Bucky talked a lot about the future. He was an optimist. Steve has no idea how, but Bucky always saw the brightest side.

Bucky was kind. Kinder than a lot of men his age, at the time. He had that blinding smile and instead of hiding it and going for the mysterious, brooding attitude, he chose to smile as much as he could, to anyone who looked like they needed it.

Realizing that the sun is beginning to go down, Steve decides to get you home.

“It’s alright, I can walk,” you tell him, feeling high on everything Bucky. “It’s just up here. I go to college here.”

“At least let me walk you to the campus,” Steve offers.

You raise an eyebrow. “Seriously?”

“Bucky would kill me if I let his girl walk home alone. Especially when it’s getting dark.”

“Fine,” you cave. Hearing Steve refer to you as “Bucky’s girl” sends chills down your spine -- the good kind of chills. The kind that makes you wish it was the 1940s. The kind that makes you wish Bucky was here, holding your hand, walking you home.

Once you reach campus (you decide to let Steve walk you all the way to your dorm building), you ask Steve the question you’ve been wondering about ever since you first saw Bucky in the museum.

“Hey Steve?”

Hands stuffed in his pockets, Steve turns his head toward you. “Yeah?”

“If this was the 40s...do you-- Do you think I’m the kind of girl Bucky would want?”

Steve’s steps falter. You slow your pace to match his until you’re both stopped, looking at one another.

“What is it?” You ask.

“Yes,” Steve says simply. “Yeah. I do. I know for a fact he would’ve torn down every building until he found you. Because he tried.”

Your breath hitches. Deep down, you had convinced yourself that you weren’t the kind of girl Bucky would want. Not that it’s your fault because you were born this side of the millennium. But to hear Steve tell you otherwise makes you freeze.

“What?”

“Bucky didn’t have me sketch you because he wanted me to practice my drawing. He did it because he wanted to see a picture of you. Something he could keep in his wallet and look at every night. He was a ladies man, yeah, but every single one...he wanted them to be you. But they never were.” Steve shakes his head. “It really tore him up, that he never found you. He still held out hope, though. Until the very last second.”

Tears have sprung to your eyes before you even realize it. 

“Before he fell, he--” Steve pauses. “He told me to promise that I’d find you. I guess I kept my promise after all.”

He looks up to see the tears in your eyes, streaming down your cheeks. Without a single word, Steve pulls you into his chest, and without hesitation, you let yourself cry.

He’s not Bucky. And you’ll never find your Bucky, but he’s close enough. Steve promised Bucky that he’d find you, and he kept that promise. Now he’s going to do everything in his power to keep you safe.

Because he knows for a fact Bucky would’ve wanted that, too.

#i knew you #bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you #platonic!steve x reader #captain america: the winter soldier #bucky barnes fanfic #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes soulmate au #james buchanan barnes #james buchanan bucky barnes #angst city y'all #it will not have real fluff for a while #we are stuck in traffic in angst city lmao #oops

[jbarness]

y/n’s nth date

a oneshot

pairing: bucky barnes x reader

about: common room conversations. today's topic: y/n's quite extraordinary dating life.

a/n: so i may be a bit busier than i expected but here's a lil something that's been in my drafts for a while before i post the first chapter of keys. its coming up in a few hours hehe. lol this has a bit of resemblance to one of my other works hihi. if u know, u know 😉. anyways, enjoy!! feedback is highly appreciated!! ♡

❗please DO NOT repost, translate, or copy my works❗

my masterlist

“Ouch! What was that for, Y/N?!”

Tony yelled and Steve gave you his ever famous ‘eyebrows of disappointment’ when you threw a large pillow towards the cuddling couple. They were just sitting there on the floor, not even making a sound, just enjoying each other’s presence so it was pretty weird that you threw a pillow out of the blue.

You shrugged, “Nothin’ much, just felt like it.”

Everyone’s eyes were on you now. It’s not that you were acting weird, throwing stuff is kinda your thing. It’s just that you haven’t talked the whole time you were all in the common room, and you’ve all been there for an hour. You haven’t been talking for one fucking hour because you honestly felt lonely despite being around a room full of people you considered your family.

Most of them had someone. Tony has Steve, Wanda has Vision, Scott has Hope, Nat has Bruce, though he’s not here at the moment.

That leaves you, Sam, and Bucky, the members of the Single Club.

You loved them both dearly, you do, but you wanted a Steve to your Tony. Probably not the best example because of the whole Civil War thing, but they both truly loved each other, everyone could see that.

“You just felt like throwing a throw pillow to Tony and me while we were just sitting here barely talking?” Steve asked, raising an eyebrow.

“It is a throw pillow,” you said, shrugging once again.

Tony grabbed the pillow and threw it back to you aggressively, "Doesn’t mean you should just throw it out of the blue! Maybe warn us next time?”

Sam laughed, catching the pillow that was about to hit your face, “Don’t mind her, she’s just being bitter.” You smiled at him, "Can’t argue with that.”

“Well, you should try to date then,” Natasha suggested, making you, Bucky, and Sam laugh.

“She kind of gave up on it,” Bucky said and looked at you with a small smirk.

You nodded before drinking from your cup that was on the table, “I always end up in the weirdest places!”

Scott tilted his head, making him look like a confused puppy, “Like where?”

“Uhh..,” you sighed, “Their parents’ basement, a car in the shop, oh and did you forget that one time that I went home covered in blood ‘cause I ended up in a Hydra base?”

Scott nodded with a wrinkled nose, “Yeah, it’s probably safer if you never go on a date again. That basement sounds kinda weird and creepy.”

"Scott, not helping. Y/N, not all guys will bring you to the weirdest places. Believe it or not, some guys are actually pretty great and decent like, uh, Steve here. He’s respectful and kind and caring,” Hope said, completely unaware of the highly offended man beside her.

Tony smirked, “In the bedroom’s a totally different story.”

You laughed at Scott who was now sitting straight, “I’m not just gonna ignore the fact that you used Steve as an example while you’re here cuddling me,” he complained.

"Scott’s okay too, kind of a dumbass, but okay,” Hope said nonchalantly.

Wanda untangled from her lover and leaned forward, “Ooh, maybe who you’re looking for is right in front of you but you may be too bitter to see it,” she said wiggling her eyebrows.

You looked at the person who was seating across from you, “Barnes?”

Okay. He’s good looking, you’ve said that a few times to yourself already. You were friends and you were scared because if you two dated, there was no turning back. You worked really hard to be his friend after he came back from Wakanda. When he came to the tower, he always followed Steve wherever he went. He didn’t really trust anyone except for Steve. He eventually talked to the others who teamed up with him and Steve. Unfortunately for you, you teamed up with Tony. So, you only talked to him after almost a year after he moved in.

You remember it as if it was yesterday, you were teasing Sam about… okay maybe you don’t remember the exact details. It doesn’t matter! You were teasing Sam when he walked into the kitchen. You remember making your voice louder for him to hear even though you know he has supersoldier hearing. He laughed at something you said which made both you and Sam look at him. Bucky was smiling at you. It was the first time you saw it, and damn. “Please, continue teasing Sam. It can be exhausting you know? I’m glad to know that there’s someone who can take my place when I’m not there to do it,” he said sipping his coffee.

That was the day you became friends with Bucky Barnes. Aaaaand betrayed Sam Wilson.

“All I’m saying is, look at Tony and Steve. Hope and Scott. Even Vis and I. We all didn’t date first. We were…co-workers or friends first. We didn’t force ourselves to make a good first impression. We didn’t force ourselves to like the other. It just… sorta happened,” Wanda said, looking at Vision lovingly.

"Well said, Wands,” Nat smiled.

Sam clapped, “Yes! Don’t give up on love, my darling Y/N,” he said enthusiastically.

Wanda frowned and tilted her head, “Not my point.”

“What is it, Wilson?” You said, squinting your eyes.

Sam smiled nervously, scratching the side of his head, “Welllllllll, I may have another blind date for you.”

You crossed your arms in front of you, “No.”

“This is the last one!” Sam grabbed ahold of your ankle that was on his lap the whole time. You tried to kick him off, “You said that 10 dates ago!” you yelled finally sitting properly on the couch.

“10?” Steve asked.

Sam kneeled in front of you, pleading, “This one won’t take you somewhere weird!”

You rolled your eyes, “You said that 11 dates ago.”

Nat waved her hands, gesturing us to stop talking, “You’ve had 12 or 13 blind dates and all of them took you to weird places?”

You nodded. Not all of it was bad though, maybe six or seven of them were gentlemen. The rest of them were fun in a childish way. But the places, oh man, you’ve been to places you never thought you’d end up in on a first date.

“Sam, where do you even meet these people?” Scott laughed, massaging his temples.

You saw a confused Vision turn to Wanda, “Sam has friends?”

Sam stood up, “I swear, this is the– Sam has frie- yes I have friends!”

“Look, Sam, I appreciate your effort to find me love but, I’m sorry, I don’t want you to be my wingman anymore,” you smiled sadly, grabbing his hand.

“But that’s my thing!” Sam frowned, stomping his feet. You rolled your eyes, very mature.

Tony smirked, “So the spot’s open?”

Bucky raised his hand excitedly, “I’ll set you up with someone!”

“No offense but, do you know anyone else besides us, Barnes?” Natasha scrunched her eyebrows at the smiling soldier.

He nodded slowly, “Yes, I do… I-I uh go running outside sometimes, you know?”

“Wait. I didn’t mean immediately!” You yelled causing them to laugh. They didn’t know you weren’t joking. Sam gave you a date every week. Every. Single. Week. That was after the third date. The first three dates he gave you? You called them the Thursday, Friday, Saturday incident. Yep, three dates for three consecutive days.

Bucky nodded, reading your face, “No rush, Y/N. I’m just saying, I have someone who you might be interested in.”

Steve laughed, “Do you even know this guy, Buck?”

You noticed Bucky’s scrunched eyebrows and pouted lips turn to narrowed eyes and tight lips as if he was debating himself about something, “Uhhh… Pretty well actually.”

Wanda suddenly gasped and giggled causing everyone to look at her weirdly. “You okay, Wands?” you raised an eyebrow. She nodded, placing her chin in the palm of her hands, “Mhm! Continue!”

Hope cleared her throat, “This guy is not just someone you passed by or something?”

“You should be asking Sam that,” Bucky defended, making Sam roll his eyes.

Bucky looked back at you with his gorgeous blue eyes and that freaking smile that you love so much, “Y/N give me a chance on matchmakin’?”

You hesitated, “I don’t know. You and Sam might be talking about the same guy”

Sam grunted, standing up, and went over to Bucky who whispered in his ear. Sam’s eyes widened, his mouth forming an ‘o’ shape, turning to a big smile. “Very very different people, Y/N,” Sam’s smile got bigger and bigger as he went back to sit beside you.

You narrowed your eyes at the guys, “You sure?”

Here’s the thing, you don’t really trust those two idiots. They are not exactly friends, they’re more of frienemies. You three team up with one of you to make fun of the other or just prank the other.

They both nodded, “Absolutely.”

You gave in and sighed, “Okay. Just give me a week without a date please.”

“Sure,” Bucky smiled.

Nat cleared his throat, “So Y/N, tell us about every single guy Sam set you up with,” she wiggled her eyebrows, smirking.

You sighed, rolling your eyes. Yeah, this is gonna be a long night.

After the talk about your dating life, the team decided to play some games. These things usually get out of hand as everyone’s competitive, including yourself so you decided to just watch them.

You stood up from your seat to make yourself a popcorn while everyone else grabbed their own snacks. Bucky grabbed a drink from the fridge and stood next to you, watching the popcorn.

“Barnes, tell me all about the guy you’re setting me up with,” you turned to look at him.

He exhaled, “I…hope you’ll like him.”

“That’s it?” You tilted your head, “Come on, tell me more! What’s he like? Where’s he taking me?”

He chuckled, “That’s what the date is for, doll.”

You sighed, “Right, of course.”

There was a moment of silence between the two of you while the rest of the team argued about what game they should play next.

“Is it… Sam?” you asked, breaking the silence.

He laughed, “It’s not, unfortunately. Unless you want me to set you up with him?” he smirked.

You shook your head, “Oh no thanks, he’s like a brother to me, you know that.”

Bucky smirked, leaning closer, “What about me, doll? What am I to you?”

The popping sounds saved you from the question, “I better…uh…the popcorn…I–” you said, doing all kinds of hand gestures. He chuckled and went back to the common room.

Damn, you can’t wait for your date with Bucky– your date with the guy Bucky set you up with. Damn it!

“Okay, these jeans or these leggings?” Wanda held up your choices.

You looked at Wanda confused. “If you have to run from your date or something. We both know you don’t like running in a dress.”

“Oh, smart,” you nodded as you chose the jeans.

Wanda was helping you out for your date tonight. She seems excited about it, you thought. You, on the other hand, are not excited at all. Wanda knows that you were debating on whether you should go or not.

This past week was… something. Bucky kept flirting with you. Sometimes you laugh at it or roll your eyes, but most times you found yourself flirting back. Steve always said how Bucky was a ladies man back in the day and now, you could see why. He’s so confident now and he is naturally charming. The weirdest part about this is that after he flirts with you, he brings up the date. And he’s excited about it! It just does not make sense to you at all.

Wanda was brushing your hair when she noticed your ‘thinking face’, “You’re gonna enjoy this I swear, Y/N,” she smiled at you through the mirror.

You nodded, “Yeah...yeah! I’ve just been thinking about...Bucky. He happily volunteered to set me up with someone then he suddenly becomes flirty every single day before the date… I just--I don’t understand,” sighing, you stood up and looked at yourself at a bigger mirror.

“No one really understands Bucky that much except for Steve,” Wanda laughed. She turned you around and checked whatever else you may need. “You’re good to go, honey!”

“Where’s Bucky?” You asked. Wanda smiled, “He’s out, Sam’s taking you to the...place you’re supposed to meet.”

Sam was awfully quiet driving his car. Something is definitely up. It’s been 15 minutes without him talking. He just hums whenever you talk.

“Alright, we’re here. Enjoy!” Sam said after he opened the car door for you. It was your favorite fast food place. Bucky must’ve told the guy that you love the food here.

You checked your messages for the 5th time tonight, ‘he’ll approach you when you enter :)’ Bucky wrote. You exhaled deeply, entering the restaurant.

“Hi, you look beautiful,” a voice from your left spoke up.

You looked over to see, “Bucky? What are you doing here?”

“I’m James, your date for tonight,” he smiled cheekily.

“Are you kidding me?” You raised an eyebrow, keeping yourself from smirking.

He shook his head, giving you the small bouquet of flowers he was holding. Taking your hand, he brought you to the table where you usually sat whenever you’re here with him. You were trying so hard to hide your smile but when you look at the man in front of you who was still smiling cheekily, you gave up and laughed.

“You know, Bucky told me you were cute and boy was he wrong. You’re beautiful, doll,” he said holding your hand that was on the table.

“Oh yeah? Did he also say that he flirted with me for the whole week after telling me that he’s setting me up on a date with you?” You smirked.

Buck-- James shrugged, “I mean, can you blame him? With you looking beautiful all the damn time, I can’t see why anyone wouldn’t make a move on you.”

You laughed, “Okay, okay. I still don’t understand any of this though.”

His flesh hand found its way on your cheek, making you look at his hypnotizing eyes. “I like you. A lot. You’ve always been so fun to be with, doll. You’re witty and sarcastic most of the time but you can be understanding and sweet when you need to be. You’re fierce and powerful. I just can’t get you out of your head ever since we went on that mission with Sam” he chuckled at the memory, “Remember? You took down the HYDRA agents while wearing that awfully large gown. Later on, we heard you singing a Backsync--?”

“Backstreet Boys”

“Backstreet Boys song, while there were screaming and gunshots in the background. You’re really strong and courageous, Y/N. I absolutely adore you.”

“I didn’t take you to be a sappy little shit, James” you smiled teasingly, “Buttttttt, I absolutely adore you too.”

He laughed, "Good to know, doll. But uhh, spoiler alert, you'll end up in a weird place after this date too."

You smirked, "And where's that?"

"In my arms," his cheeky smile found its way back to his lips, "Cause one's metal, the other's flesh. It's weird. Get it?"

#jbarness #bucky fluff #bucky barnes #bucky #bucky fic #bucky barnes x reader #bucky x reader #bucky imagine #sebastian x reader #sebastian stan #sebastian #sebastian stan imagine #sebastian stan x reader #natasha romanoff #wanda maximoff #stony #steve rogers #tony stark #hope van dyne #scott lang #oneshot

[buckybeardreams]

Unwanted

Chapters: 9/11

Fandom: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)

Rating: Mature

Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply

Relationships: Steve Rogers/Tony Stark

Characters: Tony Stark, Steve Rogers, Sam Wilson (Marvel), Brock Rumlow, James "Bucky" Barnes, Clint Barton, Harley Keener

Additional Tags: Non-Traditional Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alpha/Omega, Alpha Steve Rogers, Omega Tony Stark, Service Top, Dominant Bottom, Post-Serum Steve Rogers, Virgin Steve Rogers, Brock Rumlow is a Good Bro, Sam Wilson Is a Good Bro, Romantic Soulmates, First Meetings, Angst with a Happy Ending, Sappy, Romantic Fluff, Awkwardness, Drinking to Cope, Self-Worth Issues, Insecure Tony Stark, Insecure Steve Rogers, Age Difference, Harley Keener is Tony Stark's Biological Child, Bonding, Claiming Bites, Claiming, Mating Cycles/In Heat, Mpreg, Non-Explicit Sex, Light Dom/sub, Mutual Masturbation, Coming Untouched, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Wordcount: 10.000-30.000, Knotting

Series: Part 1 of Second Chances

Summary:

Steve is a soft Alpha and Tony is an in charge kind of Omega with no desire to find a mate. He doesn't want to find his soulmate and when he does meet Steve he's determined to stay away from him. 

That is until he realizes just how right they are for each other.

Ch 1 Ch 2 Ch 3 Ch 4 Ch 5 Ch 6 Ch 7 Ch 8 Ch 9 Ch 10 Ch 11

Can also be read here

Words: 1,612

"You're not unhappy that we bonded, right?"

Tony rolled his eyes.

"If I was I wouldn't be curled up in bed right now after letting you fuck my brains out."

Steve smirked.

"I think you were the one doing the fucking. I just laid there while you rode me."

"Yeah, but next time I'm gonna make you do all the work and I'm just gonna lay there and be the pillow princess. Let my Alpha take care of me," Tony said, his fingers trailing down Steve's chest and a sultry pout on his lips. "You'd do that for me, wouldn't you, Alpha?"

"You know I'd do anything to please you, baby."

"I know, because you're such a good boy," Tony murmured, kissing him. "Mm, as much as I'd love to stick around and let you fuck me on every surface in your apartment, I really have to get going or I'm gonna be late."

"I'll drive you," Steve offered.

"You're sweet, but no, I'm good. If I take you with me I'm just gonna end up fucking you in the break room and then the manager is gonna be an asshole about it."

Steve growled.

"I hate that guy more every time you talk about him."

Tony hummed, kissing him again.

"Yeah, well, I think most bosses disapprove of fucking in the employee's room. Even the not asshole ones.

"No, I don't mean that. We definitely can't do that, no matter how much I like the idea of you bossing me around at your work. I just think this Obie guy sounds like the worst and every time I've run into him just confirms that."

Tony didn't even try to disagree with that assessment.

"Like last week when he gave you shit for having to leave early because of your heat. There are laws in place to protect Omegas from being forced to work while in heat, but you practically had to beg him for the days off and then apologize for not being able to work and he still gave you shit about it. Then he had the audacity to act like he had done you some great favor and made you work extra shifts to make up for it. He didn't even pay you overtime, even though he made you work like sixty hours."

"Hey, hey, calm down. You're getting yourself all worked up about it and I don't want that. I appreciate your concern, I really do, and I love that you're so protective. Which is honestly something I never thought I'd say, but you need to take a deep breath. I've got it all under control."

Steve tried to take a deep breath, tried to calm down like his Omega told him to, but it didn't do much to alleviate his anger.

"I know, I'm sorry. I just wish you didn't have to deal with him."

"Well, I won't have to for much longer."

Steve frowned.

"What do you mean?"

Tony shifted on his lap, looking down at his lap nervously.

"Well, I was actually gonna tell you about this, but we've just been so caught up in our own little bubble and I didn't want to burst it by bringing up legal stuff. Besides, I almost forgot about it with all the newly mated hormones rushing through me," Tony rambled.

"Tony, love, just tell me."

"We tried to get Obie fired, but the owner, Alexander Pierce, was backing him, so we're taking him to court. They've been doing a whole bunch of shady stuff that's totally illegal, from paying people off to pass inspections and dealing drugs out back in the alley, to denying us health insurance, making us work overtime but not paying us overtime, and usually they make the Omegas work during heat. I think Obie only gave in this time, because he thought you might beat his ass if he called me in for work."

There was an amused smile on Tony's face, but he was looking at Steve, worried about his reaction. Steve was furious, but not at Tony. He knew that Obie was an asshole, but he had no idea just how bad it really was.

"Baby, I'm so sorry. I had no idea. I shouldn't have let you work for a guy like that. I'm your Alpha. I should have protected you, provided for you so you didn't have to work-"

"Hey, no, stop," Tony told him. "I love you so much, Alpha, but I don't want that. This was my battle to fight and I wasn't about to let you take that away from me. I've been dealing with this bullshit for years and now I'm finally changing things. You have to let me do this."

Steve felt awed by his little Omega. So much strength wrapped up in such a small little package it was unbelievable, and to think he was all Steve's. Steve kissed him, hard and lingering.

"I would never take that away from you, Tony. I wouldn't dream of doing something like that, pretty Omega."

A shy smile crept onto Tony's face and his cheeks turned pink.

"Thank you, Alpha. That means a lot, and I mean, there's no guarantee that the next person who buys the place will be any better than Pierce, or that they will hire us all on again. There's really no guarantee anybody will buy the place anytime soon. Realistically, it'll probably be bulldozed and turned into a parking lot for the diner next door or something like that. We all know that we're probably gonna lose our jobs, but it's worth it to do the right thing and put Pierce behind bars."

Steve nodded, licking his lips and considering how to say what he wanted to say in a way that wouldn't offend Tony.

"You know that I think you're so strong and I'm so proud of you for doing this, right?"

Tony bit his lip, nodding uncertainly.

He wasn't sure where Steve was going with this.

"I think it's amazing that you're gonna do this and that you want to do this and I'll support you in this in any way that I can," Steve told him earnestly. "I know that this is your fight, Tony, and I would never take that away from you, but if you'll let me, I'd love to fight alongside you."

Tony broke out in a grin, wrapping his arms around Steve's neck.

"Yes! Oh my God, yes!" Tony squealed. "Fuck, you scared me there. I thought you were gonna say something awful, but I should have known you'd just say something charming and perfect."

Steve blushed, but he was grinning too.

"Right, well, you see, the thing is Tony that I have a lot of money-"

Tony pulled back, raising a brow at him.

" You have a lot of money. You , the eighteen year old artist and former virgin until I seduced your ass Alpha, has a lot of money?" Tony asked him, clearly amused and not believing him one bit. "Tell me, pretty boy, what do you consider a lot of money? The twenty dollar allowance your mommy gives every Saturday?"

Steve glared at him, but there wasn't any heat in it. If anything he was just really embarrassed and really turned on.

"Sam helped me out a lot when I was a kid. He helped me turn my life around and he helped get my art into some galleries. He's got this friend, an ex of his, Pepper Potts. She's like a brilliant business woman and she runs her own company, but she also has a few major art galleries where she displays art from some of the most prominent artists in the states. I'm talking big shots, well known artists that make hundreds of thousands of dollars selling one painting."

Tony was just staring at him, like he was having a hard time figuring out if this was just some elaborate joke or not.

"Steve... what are you trying to say?"

"I'm saying that she saw some of my work, loved it, and put it up in her galleries. I've only sold a handful, but I've made a lot of money. Your bar is not that great, no offense, and I don't really spend much of my money other than for, like, rent and groceries, so there's a lot of it just sitting around. We could probably just buy the bar. That is if you want to be an owner of a bar."

Steve swallowed hard and fidgeted nervously with the bottom of Tony's shirt when he didn't respond. Tony was just shocked and pretty sure he was dreaming.

"I'm sorry, what? You're joking, right?" Tony said in disbelief. "Are you telling me that you have hundreds of thousands of dollars just lying around?"

Steve squirmed under Tony.

"I mean, not literally. It's all in the bank. Most of it's in my savings account since it earns more interest that way-"

"Shut up, I don't care about that," Tony said, cutting off his nervous rambling. "Are you for real? You have that kind of money and you'd be willing to let me buy a bar with it?"

Steve bit his lip.

"Yeah, I mean, Tony, I'd do anything for you. So if you want a bar then I'll buy you a bar. It's no big deal."

"No big deal? It's a huge deal!"

Steve wasn't sure if he was upset or excited, but then Tony was wrapping his arms around his neck and kissing him.

"Fuck, I love you so much. You know that, right?" Tony groaned against his lips.

Steve nodded, whimpering into his mouth when Tony kissed him again.

#marvel #mcu #marvel fic #the avengers #mcu fic #the avengers fic #the avengers fanfiction #stony #stony fanfiction #stony fic #superhusbands #stevetony #steve x tony #steve rogers/tony stark #steve rogers #tony stark #captain america #iron man #ao3 writer #ao3 work #ao3 wip #my fic updates #unwanted #mcu fanfic #marvel fanfiction #marvel fanfic #avengers a/b/o #a/b/o fic

[strawberrysoup]

Let’s Review || Chapter 22

Peter Parker knew that his big sister would do anything for him to be safe and happy. She’d given up everything for him twice over already and would do it again in a heartbeat. And that’s why, when the criminal mastermind Tony Stark started inextricably following him around, he didn’t say a word. Because he knew without a doubt Penny would do whatever she had to if it meant keeping Peter safe. He had to protect her, just like she always protected him. He never considered what would happen if Stark decided both Parker siblings were worth taking. Never considered who else in Stark’s inner circle would agree. He just wanted to protect her and yet somehow, they both ended up with needles in their necks.

relationship: Steve Rogers/Original Female Character/Bucky Barnes, background Peter Parker/Tony Stark rating: Explicit warnings: Dark Steve Rogers, Dark Bucky Barnes, Dark Tony Stark, Dark Avengers, kidnapping, non-consensual&dark sexual situations, underage Peter Parker, emotional and psychological abuse, Dead Dove: Do Not Eat  additional warnings: open the read more, CTRL + F and search “content warnings” to skip to the additional "spoiler-y" tags for trigger warnings

hey guys! i made a ko-fi! if you enjoy this and have some cash you could spare to help me out with my bills, id really appreciate it! if you follow the link and check out the ‘posts’, there’s a snippet for ch. 4 of posies! 

Their parents had died a few months after her thirteenth birthday and Penny essentially blacked out for the next 8 months. She didn’t remember anything from that school year, although she’d evidently scraped by in all of her classes—actually, Penny was still convinced that little Peter, who was already showing signs of being a tiny genius, had done at least half of her homework. She didn’t remember Hanukkah that year, or the first Christmas she’d ever celebrated with Aunt May and Uncle Ben. She had zero friends coming out of that year, having accidentally pushed everyone away in fits of rage or sadness that she couldn’t even remember. The pain cut just as deep every time she remembered showing up to school the first day of her freshman year only to receive the cold shoulder from half her grade.

That was actually one of the first memories she’d retained after coming out of 7 months and 3 weeks of complete emptiness, how none of her best friends wanted anything to do with her. Everything had been confusing, somehow devastating all over again but… it was less. Her parents were gone and it hurt so much but it was nothing compared to the agony that had beset her form seconds after being informed her mom and dad were dead. When Penny racked her brain she could almost remember Aunt May crouched in front of her while she sat on the couch at home, holding her hands.

Somewhere in her brain, Penny had known that plane crashes were possible. Like, as a concept she understood the idea. The plane that was flying through the air stops doing that, and all the people inside the plane die. But it couldn’t possibly happen to her parents—they were her parents, they were infallible. Plane crashes happened, yeah, but her parents couldn’t be gone. Aunt May had told her several years later that she and Ben had been petrified she would try to kill herself, especially when the state tried to take the young girl away from the Parker’s.

They’d never had the money for therapy and Penny figured she’d never regain the memories from those months but honestly, she didn’t want them. The gaps were reprieves, the missing conversations, the absence of any and all detail. Wasn’t she sad to not remember her eighth-grade graduation? Fuck no, it was a blessing to forget how she’d felt like everyone in existence had their eyes on her—except for the ones she wanted.

There were times she absently wondered how disappointed her parents would be that she didn’t finish college, let alone get an actual high school degree. Her dad had been so smart, a genius in his own right. And her mom… Penny tried not to think of her mom often, not when it hurt so deeply. Mary Parker had been a gentle soul with an IQ of 150 who made Penny feel safe and loved and understood every day of her life. Her mother would’ve been understanding, she would’ve seen the necessity in her dropping out but it would’ve hurt that gentle soul to know the opportunities her baby had missed.

It hurt Penny in a special way that neither of Mary and Richard Parker’s children would be graduating from high school. Neither would attend university. They wouldn’t go on to press the limits of their parent’s knowledge or make an impact on the world. Somehow despite everything she’d sacrificed, Peter would never get the opportunity that he deserved. Her genius baby brother, his potential capped before he had a chance to try. God, it was an agonizing burn in her chest, a searing pain that made her nauseous and light-headed.

Her heart was pounding so hard she wondered if her ribs would crack. The cabin was lovely. Dark wood and an A-frame, a nice deck in the back and lots of windows. It was surrounded by trees, with dark needles or thin pale trunks, the purple mountains of the Rockies a lovely backdrop. It was colder than she’d expect for summer, especially considering the overcast sky and the breeze. The clouds moved so fast at such a high altitude and Penny watched trembling as a shadow passed over the house, chasing the light away before the sun followed its path ravenously once more.

Steve and Bucky were unloading suitcases from the back of the SUV, passing each other calculating looks as Penny stood practically frozen in place. Her shoulders were hunched almost to her ears, arms wrapped gently but tightly around the white kitten in her arms. It was purring quietly, the same way it had been for hours now. The little thing had cried the first few hours after they’d left the tower and subsequently the chubby cheeked orange kitten behind, only settling when Penny laid down across the middle seat in the SUV and let it burrow into the crook of her neck.

If Penny turned around she would’ve recognized the mournful looks on their faces, the pain in the lines of their eyes. The soldiers knew the hurt she felt, to be separated from their most important person—they understood that Peter was the most important person in Penny’s world. This separation was on their heads, but what could they do? They’d worked themselves into a rut, the three of them, wearing such deep treads into their negative behaviors that they couldn’t climb out. A complete shakeup was the only solution.

Both winced when she abruptly folded at the waist, clutching the kitten to her chest, and vomited over the pine needle strewn dirt of the driveway. Her hair fell in heavy, curly curtains around her face as she heaved again, hiding her tear-streaked face from the soldiers’ view. The sound of them setting the bags they held down registered in Penny’s ears but she couldn’t find the strength to collect herself before they converged on her.

“Come ‘ere doll, lemme take you up to the bathroom,” Bucky stated quietly, sweeping her and the cat up into his arms as gently as he could, “you can take a bath while me and Steve get everything unloaded. I think you’ll really like the cabin baby, we… well, we designed it just for you. If there’s anything you want to change, you just tell us. We want it to be perfect for you.”

She mostly caught flashes of green and white and brown, tucking her chin to look at the kitten snuggled into her cleavage. It felt cruel, to have taken the white one and left the orange, but the little chubby-cheeked kitten had taken to her brother so well—better than it had taken to her, even. Peter had named it Malcah and while it still didn’t like being picked up or held, it twined his ankles and meowed at him for love.

“Sit here baby,” the soldier set her carefully on the lid of the toilet, after having climbed a set of stairs and turned multiple blurry corners, “let me run your bath.”

It was all white tile, the toilet built into the wall. The tub was a freestanding clawfoot, with a spray nozzle and high sides. It was surprisingly small, considering how large the tub in the tower had been. Penny idly speculated that only perhaps one of the soldiers would be able to fit at time and it would certainly be a tight squeeze if she was forced in with them. There was a standing shower on the other side, where the roof wasn’t so sharply sloped by the A-framed roof. The nice thing, that Penny would never admit was very nice, was all of the plants. The entire room was predominantly white but there was a long-vined philodendron hanging gracefully over the tub, snake plants sitting on the shelf before the toilet. She could see a rubber plant and another type of vine by the sinks, framing the mirror.

They’d obviously gone to great lengths to make sure it would be something she liked, clearly evidenced by the bathroom alone. There were even candles waiting to be used on the antique, hunter green shelves and bath bombs with lovely scents. If she’d been able to design a personal bathroom, Penny figured it would probably have looked something like this and that made her hate it all the more.

The bastards were so in their heads they could barely see the sunlight. Penny was convinced that they were so distracted orchestrating her nightmare they’d lost the plot. They kept throwing stuff at her; beautiful plants, nice clothing, cute cats, lovely homes—but it didn’t mean a single thing. All of the possessions in the world didn’t make up for the gaping, rotting hole in her chest.

“Alright doll, let’s get you undressed,” Bucky shifted towards her once the water was at the right temperature and filling the tub, a small smile on his stubbled face.

“Do you think I’m debilitated?” She rasped after a moment, rolling her eyes up to stare him in the face before spitting a vomit speckled wad of phlegm onto the rug by her feet and setting the kitten on the shelf next to the snake plants. “Last time I checked I didn’t need to be treated like a baby. Are you gonna keep standing over me like a pervert? Get out.”

The soldier’s eyebrows shot up his forehead, surprised by the calmness behind her cutting tongue. Usually, when Penny got an attitude, it came with fury and fists and resulted in broken bones or bleeding wounds. This was overwhelmingly controlled; a bitchy rebuttal. Her voice was the gravelly tone she usually got after screaming or crying, dark brown eyes nearly black.  When he didn’t move, Penny rolled her eyes and stood, whipping her t-shirt over her head and dropping it to the ground.

“You’re bein’ a little moody, babe,” Bucky watched calmly as she undressed, her clothes piling up on the floor. “Wanna think about reigning it in?”

Penny’s hair was big and curly around her face, framing the clenched jaw and sneering nose. “What are you gonna do, kill me? Whatever.”

“Penny, what—”

“Peter is a thousand miles away,” Penny’s voice started out sharp but very quickly faded into a tired drawl, “you can’t hurt him from here. And what do I care if you hurt me? So could you either get the fuck out and let me take a bath or fucking drown me in it? Whatever it takes for this interaction to be over.”  

“Are you looking for a punishment right now?” Bucky’s lips pulled down at the corners, eyebrows furrowing, “‘Cause you’re working your way towards one really quick.”

“What’re you gonna do? Kill someone in front of me?” She groaned, reaching up to dig her fingers into the roots of her hair, tugging sharply before dragging it into a tangled, thoughtless bun on the top of her head “Or spank me until I can’t sit? Rape me? Could you just get it over with? I want to be alone, please!”

Bucky was silent for several long seconds before sighing through his nose, pushing his sleeves up to his elbows. “Take your bath, think about your fuckin’ attitude. Steve and I are gonna bring the bags in.”

He left the door open and Penny was further irritated to learn he had too much dignity to stomp down the stairs the way she’d hoped he would. His break in composure had been so good for her it was unbelievable—but there was likely a punishment on the horizon and Steve wasn’t likely to let her off easy once the brunet told him what she’d said. The bastard was stone cold when it came to that shit.

She stared idly at the steaming bath, naked with her clothes piled around her feet—the question was whether she wanted a bath or if she’d been resigned to it? The water was scented, because of course it was. It was even one of her favorite citrusy scents, she noted disdainfully, another thing they had paid so much attention to while keeping her locked up in a tower like fucking Rapunzel. Now in a cabin, she figured she was a Jewish Goldilocks surrounded by hungry bears.

But it smelled nice and her body ached from the long car ride, it had already been run so why not hop in? Besides, it would keep her busy while the soldier’s fucked around and she wouldn’t have to see them for a bit. They were shuffling around and she could hear the sounds of bags being placed around the cabin. The door banged off the walls several times, always accompanied by a groan or a curse, one of which she recognized as a Yiddish swear—which she refused to find endearing. The kitten meowed at her from its position on the shelf, looking put out to be so far away but Penny shushed it quietly.

“You won’t like the water, just stay there,” she murmured quietly at the distraught little creature, picking up a washcloth and dunking it into the perfumed water. “If I come get you I’ll make a huge mess.”

She ignored the kitten as it continued to communicate with her, chittering in annoyance and pawing the edge of the ledge for several minutes before evidently surrendering and lying down with its little paws draped over the edge. Penny smiled to herself, the cat’s tail was roughly the size of its body and when it curled the fluffy mass of fur around itself it became unrecognizable as a cat. The orange one would’ve continued to complain until Penny let it down, would’ve just barely given her ankles a rub before running off to hide somewhere.

That’s why she decided to leave Malcah with Peter; the orange cat didn’t run from or scratch him. She twined his ankles, sat next to his thigh on the couch, kneaded her little paws against him. Peter had decided both kittens were female, based on the very reasonable basis that he wanted them to be. Penny wasn’t sure, didn’t quite care. The only thing she ever referred to the cats as was Chatul—which literally meant cat in Hebrew. She’d shortened it to Tuly for the white kitten, for the sake of ease, but refused to say it in front of the soldiers. The cat was hers, she didn’t have to share it with them.

The sounds of the soldiers were becoming more consistent throughout the cabin and Penny figured they must’ve brought in all of the bags and were focused on unpacking. She could hear someone down in the kitchen, unloading the masses of groceries they’d brought up the mountain while the other was in the bedroom. Penny rubbed the washcloth over her skin lightly, the oils from the fragrance making her skin soft and slippery.

She didn’t hear him come in, she felt Steve come in. The blond’s presence was just as overwhelming as Tony Stark’s, an aura bigger than his body that filled the room. She could feel the disappointed stare, even as she continued to wipe herself down with the washcloth. Her teeth ground together as he watched in silence, just waiting.

“Bucky said you’ve caught an attitude, baby doll.”

“Caught an attitude?” She rolled her eyes. “Wow, if only I hadn’t become desensitized to living in constant terror—you never would’ve realized I’ve had an attitude the whole time!”

“We’re supposed to be turning a new page, Pen.”

“Turning a—” Penny scoffed, face appalled as she abruptly stood from the bath and ignored the water going everywhere, “we’re not turning a new page—You burnt the fucking book!”

The blond’s eyes widened; Penny had gotten angry in the past, furious even. She’d broken things, broken skin, broken bones and it was always accompanied by outraged screaming. But Penny didn’t make unnervingly straight eye contact while she did it. She was barely coherent at the best of times, mostly she screamed to the room at large before flying into a violent frenzy—it was different. It was startling, the light in her eyes and the way her voice cracked.

“There is no page turning, there’s no fucking­—fucking reconciliation here, Steve,” she snatched a towel from the rack behind the tub, wrapping the light green fabric around her chest tightly, “I can’t believe after, fuck, how long has it been? A month and a half? Two months? What fucking day is it?”

“…It’s July 2nd,” he found himself choking out, still feeling shell shocked as she stepped out of the tub.

“A month and a half,” Penny’s face twitched, just barely concealing the distraught look he could see she wanted to make and she started shifting past him, “Jesus Christ after a month and a half you guys still don’t get it—you know what, never mind. After a month and a half, I should’ve been smart enough to realize what dumbasses you both are.”

“Penny—”

“God, fuck!” She shouted up at the ceiling, stopping in place halfway out the door. “I have listened to you two talk at length for what’s apparently been a month and a half! I have tried to listen to your stupid fucking rules, I put in the fucking effort and you still decided to take away the one thing I care about! I’m sick and tired of you saying my name in that fucking tone, I’m tired of constantly internalizing and I’m tired of being fucking walked on! So I’ll tell you what I told Bucky—either kill me or leave me alone, but for fucks’ sake just give me space!”

A low mew followed her statement and Penny made an abrupt about face, stomping past him to snatch up the kitten from where it had been sitting on the ledge and storming past him again. It was like getting brushed by a wildfire and Steve fought the urge to take a step back when her wet hair whipped against him.

She dug through one of the bags that held her belongings angrily, kitten on her shoulder, knowing that the blond continued to watch her from the bathroom doorway. Shorts, underwear, a sports bra, a t-shirt, and a hoodie over that. She would’ve put on socks but she knew it bothered Steve when she went barefoot.

“Come downstairs, precious,” he sighed after watching her dress, gesturing towards the stairs, “we’ve got to talk.”

“We’ve always got to talk,” Penny snorted derisively but started down the stairs anyway, Tuly back in her arms, “but it’s usually just you two telling me what I can and can’t do. Stop bossing me around.”

Steve followed after her, aghast and confused—Penny had always been brave in the situations she was forced into, whether it was taking custody of her fourteen year old brother or dealing with being kidnapped from her apartment by a billionaire criminal, but she hadn’t ever antagonized before. She’d talked back, got irritated, snapped, but she hadn’t ever just been flat out bitchy.

On the main floor, Bucky had already put away all of the groceries and was folding up the cloth shopping bags to tuck away for next time. The brunet’s eyes locked on Penny for several long calculating seconds and her hackles raised; whatever was coming was going to be annoying. She refused to be afraid though, not when there wasn’t anything to lose. Not anymore.

“Sit on the couch, let’s talk,” Steve directed, watching as she seemed to contemplate following the direction before doing so, “things are obviously going to be different here, precious.”

“The cabin is equipped with the same AI as the tower but its restricted to monitoring and safety protocols,” Bucky explained, gesturing to the open layout of the main floor, “you’ll be able to go outside so long as you ask first, there’s plenty to do out there. When Steve bought it there was an overgrown vegetable garden out there, we had it cleaned up for you and the shed fixed up and stocked. A lot of good hiking around here too.”

“I can’t talk to JARVIS?” She asked, eyes tracking the way the soldier’s exchanged glances. “Of course not. Then I would have some sort of interaction beyond the pair of you. Damaging to your plan, huh?”

“Penny, the rules didn’t end just because we’re out of the tower,” Steve had one hand braced on his hip while the other rubbed over his forehead, “be—”

“If you say Be Sweet I’ll find a way to kill myself,” Penny intoned, a dry look on her face. “Jews don’t have an afterlife you know, I’m not afraid of going to Hell.”

“Penny, we’re trying—”

“Penny we’re trying,” she mocked in a high-pitched voice, dead eye stare once again boring into Bucky’s, “I’m not. I’m done trying. You’ll either kill me or drive me insane, I’ll never see Peter again—I…I failed. I couldn’t protect him, I couldn’t even keep him safe until he was an adult, isn’t that insane? Grand total of three years and some change and I fucked it up.”

Penny stood up from the couch, shaking her head as she went. The kitten was quick to jump off the couch and follow after her, meowing while that massive fluffy squirrel tail curled over its back. The open floor plan of the cabin came in handy for the soldiers though, because she couldn’t really escape even as she walked across the living room and into the kitchen.

It was hard to pretend she didn’t actually love the cabin. The kitchen was small, located beneath the loft that held the bedroom and bathroom. The railing to the loft was covered in live vines that hung down to create a tiny illusion of separation between the living room and kitchen, the kitchen itself was sage green with white and dark brown accents. There were more plants, open cabinets mounted to the walls, the sink was small but there was a dishwasher. She loved the spiral staircase that led up to the loft, framing the kitchen to the left with small shiny baubles hanging from it.

There was a hamsa and a cross, both stained glass and hanging from the tallest step. Pretty cat toys hung from the lower railings, just within the kitten’s reach. It made Penny’s skin itch, just how lovely and perfect the whole cabin was. More evidence that they were paying a freaky amount of attention to her and every move she made.

“You didn’t fail, doll,” Bucky’s tone was quiet and he hesitated for a moment before following after her several paces, ending up on the edge of the kitchen, “You didn’t fuck it up, Peter—”

“Peter is trapped in a prison in New York with a creep more than twice his age who wants to violate and brainwash him,” Penny was on her knees in front of the fridge, digging through the crisper drawer in the bottom. “Literally all I had to do to prevent that from happening was pay more attention to his daily life. Fuck, kid was practically raising himself with how often I was gone—never stood a chance, you know?”

“Don’t think like that Penny,” Steve sighed, leaning down to pick up the kitten that had circled back to his ankles and setting it on his shoulder, “there’s nothing you could’ve done. You know who Tony Stark is, you know what he’s capable of. You can’t heap that guilt on your shoulders.”

“Oh, can’t I?” She hummed, absently throwing a package of bacon onto the floor, followed by a flat of raw chicken and beef. “There can be dairy in here or there can be meat, not both.”

“We might need a second fridge,” Bucky observed quietly, watching Penny drop a couple of deli bags with sandwich meat onto the ground before she started shuffling everything into different places within the cooler. “We could keep it in the shed?”

“No room,” Steve shook his head absently, “garage?”

Penny had collected a stack of items from the fridge and piled them onto the counter, not even bothering to look back on the soldiers as she began puttering around. The open-faced cabinets on the walls held mostly dishes and containers filled with ingredients and she ducked down, opening the lower cabinets and digging out several pans.

“Do you… do you want a hand, doll?” Bucky asked hesitantly after several moments, watching her collect ingredients and tools and turn on the stove.

“No.”

“Penny—”

“Can I make lunch please?” She whipped around, an irritated look on her face and a spatula in hand, looking like she was about to use it to beat them both, “I’m hungry and I want to die, I figure you’ll only allow me to fulfill one of those wants so can you let me cook?”

The next thing she knew, Penny had been swept up into Bucky’s arms. The solider looked confused, lips curled in frustration but his brow furrowed with dismay. She stiffened at the action when he stomped back to the couch and sat down roughly, dropping her over his knees and landing a smarting blow to her ass through her shorts without warning.

“Thirty for this fucking attitude,” he barked, yanking the shorts down until the waistband settled under the curve of her ass against the tops of her thighs, “count.”

A sharp inhale followed the first skin to skin hit and Penny snarled in response, “one.”

“Apologize,” Steve’s fingers tangled into her hair, extracting the hair tie and letting the curls fall in chaotic waves over her shoulders and face.

“Two,” she counted dutifully and angrily, narrowed eyes landing on Steve’s face, “I’m sorry you’re a fucking monster!”

“That just added ten more, Penny,” Bucky sighed through gritted teeth, “you better reign it in.”

“You better just kill me,” she rasped, nails digging into his leg where she was holding on for balance through the hits, “because I won’t reign it in. I’m sick to death of you motherfuckers—Oh, fuck, three!”

“No cursing during punishments, start from one,” Steve ordered darkly, the hand in her hair pulling taught as he glanced into Bucky’s eyes—the baffling combination of anger and dismay and loss in the brunet’s eyes let him know he wasn’t the only one scrambling.

“Fuck you!” Penny shook her head roughly as if to dislodge his hand, canting her head to the side the best she could manage to look him in the eye, “beat me black and blue, I don’t fucking care. Don’t you get it? It doesn’t matter anymore! Nothing fucking matters.”

content warnings: spanking *edit, addition content warning: disrespectful terminology for Jewish people 

#steve rogers x reader x bucky barnes #steve rogers x reader #bucky barnes x reader #steve rogers x oc #bucky barnes x oc #steve rogers x oc x bucky barnes #dark!fic

[msmarvelwrites]

The Winter Ghost - Chapter 17

Info: A Devastating car crash causes you to lose your memory and start over. The only thing left in the wreckage was the horrific nightmares which plagued your mind. If you knew what today would entail you would have just stayed in bed. But you didn’t and because of that, everything you knew was about to change.

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x reader

Warnings: swearing, fluff, foreshadowing smut?

W/c: 2.3k

A/n: I know I know, it’s been quite a few nights since I last posted since I usually try to every few days... This week has been a whole long seven days. And honestly I needed to charge my battery and take a break from writing for a minute. Anyyways, thats boring, and this is not. Were almost done here, and I’m so excited to move onto some imagine’s I’ve been brainstorming! Hope you enjoy! 

Bucky’s breath fanned across your collarbone, drifting in and out of slumber. How he could even attempt sleeping after the day's events was, quite frankly, astonishing. But you didn't dare wake him, afraid you wouldn't get a chance to be this close to him again. 

It was easy enough to conclude how you felt about the past few days as confusion. Specifically speaking, you knew it went deeper than that. Your memories had kicked you in the teeth, reeling from the guilt and grief that Tommy was dead and it was all your fault. Yet in the matter of hours, you had fed him to Hydra. You knew exactly what they would do to him when they found out you had escaped. You also knew that when the team circled back to dispose of the Hydra base, or what of it was left, Tommy would be gone. For good this time. 

Bucky’s body shifted, leaning in closer to you. Your heart raced as a small sigh erupted from his chest, vibrating through you. 

And then there was that. You weren't sure when that feeling of butterflies had come back when Bucky looked at you, but nevertheless it had. Part of you thought you should be sorrowful after your ‘almost’ fiance ‘almost’ shot you. Maybe take a day for bereavement, and yet, the idea of pressing pause on Bucky, after all this time, felt impossible. More to the point, you were tired of fighting between what you thought was morally right about how your heart beated ten times faster when he was around.  

“Do you hate me?” He hesitated under his breath. The rest of the team had all taken their seats at the front of the aircraft. Even still, he spoke as though he was afraid they would hear your confession. 

Your eyes met his, looking for some sort of punchline, but none came. Silence hung heavy around his question, and you swallowed deeply. 

Did you hate him? There was a time not so long ago that you would have been an easy question to answer. He hadn't stolen the life you thought he had. No, Tommy did that all on his own.  He betrayed everything you had built together. He wasn't the man you thought you knew. Bucky, on the other hand, always had been. You knew about his past. He had spent countless nights wrapped in his arms dredging but old and broken memories about his time with Hydra. The only thing you knew for sure was he made you feel like you belonged in a world that you thought had written you off years ago.

 Maybe, if you hated anyone, it was yourself. How long had Tommy been lying to you?  How could you not have seen it? How many nights had you spent in your bed, giving yourself to him, trusting him, believing him? 

“Thats a loaded question.” He murmured before you could answer. “I just mean, I miss this… Miss, you.” 

You worried on your bottom lip, watching as he huffed out a breath and accepting your silence for an obvious answer. Before he could pull away from you, you took his hands in yours, starling him from the sudden warmth. 

“I- I don’t think I ever hated you.” You offered honestly. 

Bucky pursed his lips and looked you over quizzically. “Could’ve fooled me.” He chuckled, leaning back into you as his breath steadied again. 

“I know I never really got the chance to- uh, apologise...” You tried the word on your tongue, but it tasted bitter. How do you ask for someone's forgiveness after attempting to murder them? “I don't really know what to say…” You mumbled, feeling the walls you built around yourself behind to crumble. 

“That’s cause’ there's nothing to say. Listen doll, of all people you don't need to apologise to me for homicidal tendencies. I get it.” He teased. You appreciated his light hearted approach, but his words send a lump to appear in your throat. Was that what it boiled down to? After a long day of dark thoughts and murderous rampages, Bucky would be there to understand. You weren't sure if the sentiment was romantic or the plot to a Tim Burton film. 

“And besides, I kinda’ deserved the ass kicking.” He signed, smiling into your shoulder. 

“You kind of did.” You chuckled. 

Huh…?

Were you making light hearted joking about attempted murder? Is this who you were now? Honestly, it wasn't the worst thing you’d done. Besides, there was something so comforting about the way he accepted you. Flaws (and boy oh boy were they flaws) and all. 

“Okay. So I'm not sorry for putting you on your ass.” You specified. “But I am sorry. For what I said after. I don’t know where that came from. I don't really think those things about you. You’ve never given me a reason to before.” Bucky huffed, and you could physically feel him stiffen. 

“I lost control, Y/n. I gave you a perfectly good reason...” He noted. You didn't have the heart to tell him that ever since that fateful day in the hallway all you could think about was the aching in your core and how perfect his death machine of a hand fit around your throat. 

“It doesn't matter…” You spoke, running your fingers over his flesh ones, until they locked into his. “I’m fine. You're fine- ish, right?” You chuckled, motioning to his chest now dried with blood, “I don't blame you.”

He squeezed your hand and signed into your shoulder. Everything about this moment was perfect. The impending doom you had left behind was just that. It felt long gone as you stared into Bucky’s arctic eyes and breathed in his scent. Comforting, familiar, and something you weren't ready to comprehend. It sent shivers down your spine and made your legs clench together at the thought. But now, sitting in the back of the quinjet avoiding the loud stares of Wanda scrutinizing your every move was not the time. There was no doubt she was reading your loud heated thoughts, and so desperately, you tried to quiet your want. 

……………………………

When you landed, medical was at the ready, helping Bucky out of the aircraft and into the compound. Shuri tried to force you apart from the injured man long enough to convince you to go for a check up also. 

‘I feel fine. I’m fine’ you tried to argue, but it was no use. Her mind was made up and you were smart enough to know when that happens, there's very little one can do to change it. 

You sat in the small lab, letting Shuri pry and pron at you, asking question after question but your mind was distant. Distracted. There was only one person you wanted to be with, and right now he was down the hall, having bullets plucked from his body. 

The overwhelming need to be near him was sudden, but not unwelcome. Try as you may to push it away, it krept back in, startling you every time. You could play dumb all you wanted, but now that he was not next to you, youre only mission consisted with getting him back. Were you confused? 

Yes. 

Did you understand what you were feeling? 

Not entirely. 

How did Bucky make you feel?

Brave… Loved… Horny? All of the above. 

Yes, yes and yes. There was no denying it. As much as you wished it was more complicated. Your entire core was drawn to him like a magnet and your brain was just along for the ride. Heart stuttering and mind foggy. 

Shuri gives you a once over and taps on your shoulder, yanking you from your thoughts. “You okay?” 

The question was simple. And yet, the words wouldn't come. 

You cleared your throat, physically shaking your head and clearing your racing thoughts, “Yes. I’m okay. Do you think I can go?” 

Shuri smiles knowingly, a chuckle bubbling out of her small chest. “He’s fine, ya’ know. Doctors said they extracted the bullets easily. He’s probably all healed up already-”

Her words were cut off by your impatient foot, bobbing anxiously for the answer to your question. 

“Yes. fine you can go.” 

You practically jumped off the lab table, swinging the door open and shouting a thank you over your shoulder on the way out. 

When you entered Bucky’s medical room, it was quiet. Turning the corner you could see he was sitting on the edge of the bed, staring out the large floor length window that looked out to the rolling mountain of Wakanda.

You tried to step lightly, not wanting to alarm him.

“Can't sneak up on a trained assassin.” 

You jumped, clutching your heart at his sudden voice. He chucked, watching your panicked face melt into a smile. 

“Guess not. How ya’ feeling killer?” You smirked, taking a seat on the windowsill across from him. 

Bucky squinted, looking at you skeptically, “I don't know if you're tryin’ to be funny or-” 

“I'm not. That was a stupid joke….” You scoffed as you bathed in the awkward silence that followed. 

There were so many things you wanted to say. So many you wanted to do, and yet your body was frozen, staring at the floor unable to meet his intense gaze. You could literally hear your heart beating in your chest and your face growing warmer by the second. 

“So.” you finally choked out, forcing yourself with all your might to look up. His eyes were soft and full of reassurance. Something you so desperately needed at the moment. Maybe the old Y/n could convey her emotions, but the real one was a total disaster when it came to this sort of thing. 

But that's what you were doing wasn't it? This is what it had all led up to. The kiss, the midnight conversations, the unyielding sexual tension. This was it. 

“So…” He repeated your words, coxing your next ones. 

You chuckled dryly, clearing your throat and starting again, “So, about what happened back there.” 

“When I got shot or when we kissed?”

“Both I guess?” 

“You guess?” He quipped, amusement dripping from his mouth. He was loving this. Watching you fumble over your thoughts. Of course he did. Smug bastard. 

“Listen, I’m not good at this stuff. Obviously. So could you just tell me how it is. Was that some heat of the moment thing? Like before. Because if it was you just gotta’ tell me.”  You finished in a huff. 

Bucky signed, running his flesh hand through his hair. “It wasn't.” He finally spoke, “not then and not now. I was such an ass, pushing you away like that. I just didn't- I guess I still don't think I deserve something like you… Touching me like that.” 

You soaked in his words. Watching his lips intently as his tongue darted out and wetted the bottom one. In a breath, you crossed the room and took the open space beside him as an invitation to sit down. 

“Will you please let me decide what I deserve from now on?” You smirked, looking up  at him from behind your lashes. 

“Yeah, I think that's best.” he chuckled, leaning into you. 

“How’re you feeling?” You mumbled, listening to his breathing steady as he signed into the comfortable position you were both in now. 

“Better. Thanks for that by the way. Wanda’s never used her power on me like that. It really helped.” He spoke, softly, as you waved him off, motioning ‘it was nothing’. 

It felt like the first time in a long time you had spoken to Bucky without the nagging desire to murder him. 

Maybe this is what people talk about when they say you should ‘grow’ with your partner. You're sure that they weren't referring to homicidal rage… But still. 

You looked up to Bucky, watching as he softly bit down on his lip. Without warning or much thought for that matter, you swung your leg around, purchasing yourself on his lap. You would like to believe it was with agile and ease, but the motion sent Bucky back against the bed while you fell against him, straddling his hips.

“What was-” You shushed him with your palm over his mouth, coaxing a deep moan from the back of his throat. It sent a shiver down to your core, but that was a problem for a later time. 

“I want to try something.” You breathed, pulling your hand from his lips and swifting replacing it with yours.

He reacted instantly, his hands settling on your hips as yours pulled at his hair. You melted into his touch as his tongue softly traced the bottom of your lip, deepening the kiss. You could feel his pants tightening around him as he ground his thick member against your core. He was unrelenting as you gasped for hair, pulling away and resting your forehead on his. Had it not been for the room being made entirely of glass you were sure you would have lost your pants. Honestly, you were still considering it. 

“I just wanted to know what that felt like without my life being at risk.” You spoke over heavy breaths. 

Bucky chuckled, his swollen lips turning up into a smile. “And?”

“Eh.” You shrugged, causing Bucky to gasp and he flipped your over, gaining the upper hand. His icy blue eyes, now blown with lust. You're breath caught in your throat by the new intimate position, flexing your thighs shut hard and suppressing a moan. 

“D-did you get the ‘ok’ to leave?” You stuttered, feeling your body tremble under the radiating heat of his. He nodded his head, a few loose strands of deep auburn hair falling from his bun and onto your cheek. 

You bit down on your lip, watching his chest rise and fall above you, feeling the electricity that emanate around the room. The idea that this could very well be a huge mistake crossed your mind and maybe if you were stronger you would have listened. Maybe you just didn't care anymore. Or maybe, it was possible this was exactly where you needed to be. Where you belonged. And so, without hesitation, you slid yourself out of Bucky’s grasp and pulled him down the hallway towards his room.

.......................................................................

A/N: As always, thank you to @cutie1365​ for just being you! Thank you for all your help with this my friend! Were almost done! Like and reblog if you enjoyed! See ya soon! 

@projectcampbell​

@calwitch​

@kalesrebellion​

#msmarvelwrites #marvel #marvel fanfiction #marvel fanfic idea #marvel smut #marvelfanfic #bucky x y/n #bucky x reader #bucky barns imagine #bucky barns x reader #bucky barnes #bucky barnes smut #bucky barnes reader insert #bucky barns fanfiction #bucky fanfic #bucky angst #bucky barnes x reader smut #bucky barnes reader #marvel civil war #winter soldier x y/n #winter solider fanfiction #the winter solider imagine #the winter solider x reader #thewinterghost

[greyhavensking]

100 Followers Celebration!

God, I’m late with this, but I finally passed the 100 follower milestone and I wanted to do something for it to show my appreciation. That something turned out to be almost 3000 words of emotional hurt/comfort and dumb boys in love, so I hope someone enjoys it.

I can’t even express how grateful I am to have (over!!!) 100 people think I’m worthy of following when mostly I just reblog other people’s posts and scream in the tags, but this is me trying to get the point across. Thank you, thank you, thank you to the people who continue to tolerate my bullshit and occasionally encourage my sad stucky edits and my angsty fluff fanfics. You’re all amazing and wonderful people!

Also cross-posted on Ao3 here.

you left your mark on me like footprints in the snow

“Buck, you awake?”

It’s sort of a moot point, seeing as Bucky — light sleeper that he is — would have woken up the second Steve stepped across the threshold of the living room, but he feels compelled to ask nonetheless. His ma was a stickler for courtesy, especially when it didn’t cost anyone a dime, and while he can’t quite manage to defer to politeness when it comes to aggravating superiors, it comes easy as breathing with most everyone else.

Bucky isn’t everyone else, and half the time Steve doesn’t bother filtering himself around him, but tonight—

Tonight’s a bad night.

But it’s not Bucky’s night for a change.

As Steve pauses at the back of the couch, arms crossed and head ducked, he sees Bucky smoothly push himself up into a sitting position from where he was stretched across the cushions, rolling his shoulders back as he scrubs his flesh and blood hand over his face. He was awake, judging by the dog-eared book he lets slide to the floor; Steve can’t make out the cover from this angle, but he’d bet anything it’s one of those YA novels Sam recommended to him that he refuses to thank Sam for. Something about Greek gods and terribly unlucky teenagers. Steve doesn’t go for fantasy often, but he knows Bucky’s been plowing through the series for the last few weeks.

“I’m always awake,” Bucky says once he’s gotten a good look at Steve, despite Steve’s best efforts to tuck all the visible hurt away behind an admittedly shaky smile. He’s joking, mostly — when Bucky first came home, he rarely got more than an hour or two of sleep before some imagined threat had him prowling the confines of the apartment, checking and rechecking the locks and the security system. Nowadays his sleepless nights are still disturbingly frequent, but not every night, and he can usually pass them by reading or watching whatever he finds most interesting on TV. 

Bucky quirks a brow when Steve remains silent, tilting his head. Assessing. “You, though,” he continues as if he hadn’t paused at all, “you should be dead to the world, Rogers. Sawing logs, or whatever it is they say when you snore louder than a damn foghorn.”

“I don’t — I don’t snore,” Steve bites out, reflexive, which just gets Bucky’s other brow jumping up to join the first.

“So it’s one of those nights, huh.” Bucky nods to himself, twisting around on the couch to lean back against the armrest, legs spread invitingly. He pats the space between his thighs. “Good thing I’m a certified Steve Rogers expert and know exactly what you need.”

Steve considers refuting that claim, but he can’t bring himself to bother with it. A flare of indignation does pulse under his skin (he hates the idea that he needs to be managed), though it peters out just as quickly as it came, taking with it the last shred of warmth Steve’s been clinging to since he slipped out from beneath his bed covers. Bucky’s right, anyway; this is what Steve needs, something they’ve pieced together in the months after Bucky felt safe enough to put himself back into Steve’s orbit.

Rubbing briskly at his upper arms, more for something to do with his hands than any hope of warming himself up, Steve hesitates another moment before he sighs and climbs over the back of the couch to crawl in between Bucky’s legs. Bucky wraps his arms around Steve’s waist instantly, tugging him until his back is flush with Bucky’s chest. He noses at the nape of Steve’s neck, presses a kiss there that has a delightful shiver rippling down Steve’s spine, then wedges his chin into the space between neck and shoulder.

“What’s the threat level with this one?” Bucky asks quietly. Threat level is their established short-hand for how bad a nightmare was, what kind of toll it took on them. It’s easier getting that out than something like I woke up crying reaching for you can’t get my heart to calm down can’t breathe woke up alone and had to bite back a scream, and Steve can admit that Bucky’s nothing short of a goddamn genius for giving Steve a way to explain without explaining. 

“‘Bout a seven,” Steve says, which means it’s closer to a nine than he’d like. He can still feel the phantom chill of wind and snow on his face, the ice-clogged water in his lungs, arms outstretched but grasping at nothing nothing nothing. Bucky’s face, frozen over and glassy-eyed. No air, no breath, no life in either of them — but Steve, undead, trapped below the ice, forced to watch it all play out on repeat—

“Uh-huh. Seven. Sure, I’ll go with that for now.” Bucky’s voice is right against his ear, his breath warm, the solid weight of him so very real that Steve shudders again, leaning into him even though there’s hardly space left between them to close. “You need me to do anything extra special?”

Steve shakes his head, then pauses, reconsiders. “Keep talking?” 

His nightmares are — strange. They’re quiet, mostly, unless they involve the train, and then it’s the clack-clack-clack of the tracks, the high-pitched whistling of the wind, his own desperate screams. But when it’s the ice… it’s almost silent. Like an old film, the reels spinning on soundlessly around him. Colors are muted, too, shades of gray and blue and the occasional vibrant streak of red that could be blood, could be his suit, could be the afterimage of staring too long into a bright light. 

Bucky huffs a laugh and tightens his arms around Steve, and in return Steve shifts to lay his hands over Bucky’s skin, one sliding along his forearm, the other reaching down to slip under the hem of Bucky’s shorts. He’d grab the metal arm (it doesn’t bother him, and it’s body temperature from being tucked under Bucky on the couch) but he needs skin right now, and he knows Bucky doesn’t begrudge him it.

“Talking,” Bucky murmurs. “You gotta pick the one thing I’m no good at anymore, don’t ya. No, no, don’t start,” he says, reading the tensing of Steve’s body all too well, and Steve slumps back into his hold, caught out. “I’m not sayin’ I won’t do it, and I’m not gettin’ all self-deprecating on you, either. Words are hard, sweetheart, you know that.”

“Sorry, Buck. We can just put the TV on, or—”

“I said it’s fine, Rogers. Relax. I’m not in the habit of doing things I don’t want to these days, even for you, which is a goddamn miracle considering all the shit I put up with for your benefit when we were kids. Christ.”

Steve rolls his eyes, which he knows is the exact reaction Bucky was going for. “Alright, I’ll bite. What’d I talk you into that was so bad?”

“God, Steve, Snow White? How many times d’we see that in theaters?”

“What? You loved that movie!”

“No, you loved that movie, despite being fuckin’ colorblind. I went because I’m a goddamn sap and I couldn’t get enough of the wide-eyed baby deer act you pulled every time you got to see all that animation in action. You sparkled, Steve, it was addicting.”

“What?”

“Whaddya mean, what? Can’t a guy get all sentimental over how cute his best guy looked staring adoringly at a cartoon?”

“No, I mean— you went for me? We weren’t even…”

“First of all, jackass, I don’t gotta be in love with someone to wanna see them happy. Second, I honestly can’t tell you if I realized that I was in love with you back then. It’s all mixed up with how I definitely felt during the war, and then with everything that came with thawing out here.”

Hold on— 

“Bucky. Bucky. The war?”

Steve’s half-twisted around in Bucky’s arms now, staring at him, slack-jawed, because they’ve never had this conversation before. Nothing even close to this has ever come up between them. When they got together this century, they only acknowledged that they’d never considered doing so back in the thirties, that their feelings only really surfaced now because they finally had a moment to rest without the fear of discovery hanging over their heads. Bucky has never breathed a word of loving Steve at any point before that.

But Bucky doesn’t seem to understand what’s running through Steve’s head, because his brows furrow as he stares right back at Steve. “Why are you acting so surprised? You think I curled up with you every night just ‘cause I was cold?” He pauses. “I mean, alright, yes, I was freezing and you were a goddamn furnace all of a sudden, but—”

“You have never said shit about this, Barnes, what the fuck?”

And there’s Bucky rising to the challenge in Steve’s voice, lifting his chin and narrowing his eyes. Refusing to let go of Steve, though, for which he’s grateful; he needs the grounding weight of him all the more in this moment.

“I ain’t exactly proud of it, Steve. You and Carter? Fuck, you made my blood boil with her.”

Steve blinks. Blinks again, shakes his head like that’ll make Bucky’s words fall into a neat little line he can actually understand. He feels Bucky’s chest expand as he breathes in deep, feels it deflate as he lets it out in a heavy sigh. His eyes are nearly silver in this light, and so sheepish that Steve just wants to set this aside and kiss on him until he’s smiling again. But — he wants to know, fuck, he doesn’t like secrets between them anymore, and he knows Bucky’s the same way. It’s not the best time to get into this, but really, in the grand scheme of things… it’s as good a time as they’ll get.

“God, alright. I was jealous, okay? Whether or not I knew what you were to me while we were still in Brooklyn, I sure as hell knew it then when I was watching you two dance around each other for months. The way you’d stare after her, the way she tucked herself right into your side whenever you were in the same room… I was sick with it, hatin’ her and hatin’ myself for feeling that way when I didn’t have a fuckin’ claim to you. When you were happy with her and I couldn’t make myself be happy for you. You think I like admitting I couldn’t put my best friend’s happiness above my own bruised ego?”

“Buck…”

“Aw, don’t look like that, sweetheart. Was my own fault for never saying anything. And, well, for all I knew back then you were straight as an arrow. You thought you were pretty straight, as I recall. Maybe it woulda just driven a wedge between us if I’d said something.”

“Fuck that.” The words are whispered, but they get Steve’s point across just fine — it’s Bucky’s turn to blink, leaning away from Steve slightly like he needs a better look at him to process what he’s just heard. Steve just follows him, getting his knees under him so he can cup Bucky’s face in both palms, holding him close. “Fuck that. I always loved you, Bucky Barnes. Platonic, romantic, doesn’t fucking matter. If you think for one second I woulda left you over something like that—”

Bucky laughs again, a quick, sharp little thing that barely interrupts Steve’s vehement protests, but the kiss Bucky plants on his lips does the job of getting his attention.

“What a stubborn asshole you are, sweetheart.”

Scowling, Steve kisses Bucky again, harder this time but still achingly sweet. “You think I’m lyin’?”

“Do I look like an idiot? No, I don’t think you’re lying, but that’s what you’re saying now, with the glorious gift of hindsight. You can’t say for sure that’s how you would have reacted, and I wouldn’t have blamed you for it.”

“One more time, Barnes, ‘cause I do think you’re a little slow on the uptake tonight. Fuck that. You got my ass through every fuckin’ illness that so much as looked at our borough, got me through ma’s death… you think you catchin’ feelings was gonna scare me away? I was afraid of you leaving, god, I woulda clung to you forever if you let me, even if you got married, had kids, whatever. I probably wouldn’t have believed you could like me, but I wouldn’t have been mad at you over it.”

It’s quiet between them once Steve’s gotten it all out of his system, save for his heart thudding in his chest and their quickened breathing, the tick-tick-tick of the ceiling fan above them. Steve refuses to look away from Bucky’s searching gaze, and god, yes, he’s a stubborn asshole, but he’s also right! He’s right and he’s going to prove that to Bucky, one way or another, because this is too important to let go. He doesn’t want Bucky thinking even for a second that there is a scenario where Steve would throw him over for someone else. Anyone Steve loved — anyone who loved Steve — would have had to accept that Bucky came first, always.

In hindsight, Steve maybe should’ve figured out his own damn feelings long before he reached the 21st century, but that wasn’t exactly his point right now. 

Steve doesn’t know how long they sit there like that, holding one another without saying a word, but he doesn’t tear his eyes away from Bucky’s for a single moment of it, willing him to understand that he’s always been Steve’s anchor, his touchstone — that absolutely nothing short of death could ever come between them, and fuck, even that didn’t stick. And he thinks Bucky might be getting there, the way a slow, tremulous smile spreads across his face, a flush high on his cheeks that does things to Steve’s heart. 

“I love you.”

Steve’s eyes crinkle as he smiles, automatic, ducking his head down to press into Bucky’s neck, the fabric of his worn t-shirt soft against Steve’s cheek. It’s far from the first time either of them have said it, but Steve still gets so giddy over it, knowing he gets to have this, have Bucky, to hold and kiss and adore this man in his arms for as long as they’re both alive… it’s heady, and something Steve doesn’t want to take for granted, not even for a second. The road they took to get here was too brutal for Steve not to be damn grateful for every moment they have together. 

Which means he doesn’t mind the teasing they get from the rest of the team, the not-so-sly remarks and gratuitous eye rolls that Sam and Natasha are so fond of, the downright lewd shit that gets thrown right back in Tony’s face when Bucky reminds them all that neither of them are innocent grandpas. 

It’s all part of getting to love Bucky the way he deserves, the way he’s always and will always deserve, and if there’s one thing about the future that Steve unequivocally loves, it’s that he can be as open as he wants about just how much he loves Bucky. And, if people do have a problem with it, Steve can kick their asses — mostly over Twitter, but still. He’s a fan.

“Love you too, Buck.”

Bucky hums, content, and readjusts so that Steve is mostly laying flat on top of him, the both of them stretched out across the couch. He snags the blanket from where it’s half-spilled onto the floor, draping it over Steve enough that it covers the majority of their bodies. Steve snuggles in, wrapping his arms around Bucky’s back, giving him a gentle squeeze to show his appreciation. 

He’s all but forgotten the phantom cold that drove him out here in the first place.

“Wanna try going back to sleep?” Bucky murmurs, rubbing circles into Steve’s back.

“Nah. You’re still gonna be here, don’t wanna sleep alone.”

“Mm, fair point. You just gonna lay here, then?”

He could, Bucky won’t protest his weight or the company. “Yeah. Right where I wanna be. You could read to me, though?”

“I’m in the middle of the book, Rogers, you won’t have any clue what’s going on.”

“Just like the sound of your voice, Buck. It’s soothing,” Steve argues, and he’s slurring his words a little, he knows, but he doesn’t care and Bucky doesn’t call him out on it. “Read to me?”

He feels the rumble of Bucky’s laughter in his own chest, pressed right up against him, then the shift of the couch as Bucky grabs his book from the floor and braces it against the dip in Steve’s spine so he can read.

And yeah, Bucky’s right — Steve couldn’t tell you a thing about what’s happening in the book right now (there are gods and monsters and quippy teenagers, but none of it settles quite right in his brain, none of it takes any recognizable shape) but he couldn’t be happier regardless.

Turns out it’s not so bad of a night after all. 

#stucky #stevebucky #steve rogers #bucky barnes #stucky fanfic #fanfic #my fic

[blushing-starker]

You've already made so many boards for me (or tagged me in ones I didn't explicitly ask for but then I realised I needed them.) But here're some - disconnected - thoughts/prompts/ideas to take or leave: Mafia Boss Peter; Winterironspider; canon-compliant Peter missing Tony after Endgame; Spiderstrange trying to keep their relationship a secret from Tony; and honestly sometimes I'm just down for a classic, any Spideychelle in your brilliant head?

Look at you, hitting me with drama, whump, romance and the funnies! Listen, I will continue making moodboards for you, Katie and one very non trashy @trashystarker . Apart from Raf, Laney, Bee and Mabel, you guys are the ones that interact the most no matter what the hell I post. (I appreciate all of you of course, but some people are there even when i hastily throw together some pics and textures into a melting pot.)

No, but truly, thanks dear. Mafia Peter is so good! But how do I make it angsty? Well, how about mafia boss Peter missing Tony after endgame and counting on Bucky, one half of his heart, to pull him through? They suffer as lovers and then Stephen comes along, tentatively because Tony had only sacrificed himself, had only worked out this plan after the doctor told him it was the singular strategy capable of pulling them through this. The spider and soldier don't blame him, can't even consider the possibility since its not his fault. Tony wouldn't have done what he did if the overall threat hadn't existed. His death lies with Thanos, not Stephen.

(Cue them falling in love, but anywayyyyyy)

Lets get to some happy aspects! Tony survives. So does Peter. Thanks to Strange. If the man's cloak hadn't yanked him away from Thanos' grip, Mr Stark would have mourned for him all over again. And yeah, technically the cape can't be controlled but uh, he needs an excuse to follow the sorcerer around for a few weeks, ok?

It's not Peter's fault the guy is witty and clever and cunning and a brilliant strategist and oh my god he can help him figure out why his wrists hurt and tell whether it's a fever or a cold and he's flying! Without the webs thanks to the cape! Look, Mr Strange! And can the universe stop dumping him into awkward situations with men so handsome? He has a hard time catching the drool from his mouth. Their intelligence is already a turn on, he can't handle all of this.

Strange finds it endearing, lips inching upwards into something resembling a smile. And the second he does that, the cape whirls around, nearly drops Peter into an experiment and begins clapping excitedly like Stark's daughter when he showed her some magic tricks. He needs to get rid of that cape.

(Mr Strange? Are you alright, you look a bit pale? Or it could be the light? Oh hey! Now you're red! That's good, right? Maybe you touched something weird. I don't see anything on your face, but it's the only area that could be affected since you wore the gloves for the experiment. Hold on, let me take a closer look. It's really dim in this closet. Why did the cape bring us here? Is it taking us to the antidote? Mr Strange, you're getting really red now.

Peter, I highly doubt you need to be this close, I'm fine. I'll be fine once we get out of this infernal-

Was that the door closing? On a room labelled, magic properties weakened inside?

... Yes, that was the door.

Guess we're gonna have to be close now, huh?

Remind me to A) never help Stark with a project again, no matter whether the world hangs in the balance and to B) rip that cloak apart.

You can't do that! Doctor Weird is nice!

I'm sorry, Doctor what?)

Spideychelle, spideychelle.

She calls him her itsy bitsy spider constantly. Like, that's his contact name.

Ned is grumpy because I was here first. But then he sees how cute they are and admits that fine. She can have Wednesday and Thursday. Mr Stark has Saturdays and Tuesdays. He has Monday and Friday. Peter has Sunday off. Sometimes.

Peter crafts gifts using his webs, intricate flowers and careful handwriting on her window so the light hits just right and she can read the messages on the floor thanks to the shadows. If her favorite jacket, the one in ffh, continues ripping on the side, a web immediately flies to hold it together. It's the new rage in the school.

For the first few weeks, it's a bit hesitant. And then she says fuck it, gently pushes him to the floor, climbs on top and naps away. May finds them snoring, legs entangled and limbs askew. Peter holds her as gently as possible like that, careful with the superstrength and she makes sure to never put too much pressure on his chest so it doesn't remind him of the vulture or the weight of a building caving in his ribcage.

They go to Halloween as a trio. Ned may be jealous every once in a while but he's a good bro so instead of going as a pair with Peter, he finds costumes that go well with one more person.

They kiss and it's not electric. Not fireworks. It's the fizzle stars they light up in front of Mj's house, warmth shared in a puppy pile, soft sweaters and even softer curls. It's nice, makes him content and never overwhelmed. It's perfect, really. Romance doesn't have to be an uncontrollable inferno. It can be this too, a slow but steady fire keeping him alive 365 days a year.

#Sophie loves her starker fam #👑 #thanks gracie #spideychelle #spiderstrange #Winterironspider #thats one of my faves by the way #mafia boss pete #hcs #The cloaks name is doctor weird #its canon now #like captainspider #was that the name #ill check

[emcon-imagines]

Let Each One Hear Her Own Thoughts

gif

words: 1665 notes: based off of this post I made after the Wandavision finale. for those of you unfamiliar with my OC Willow featured in this story, you can read about her here, or just dive right in and enjoy this little post WV fic! Willow and Wanda share a sister-like relationship after meeting at the compound years ago, when Wanda took Willow under her wing pre-Civil War. summary: Wanda receives a regular visitor at her cabin, someone repaying a favor they owe her from years ago.

---------------

It was still sunny when Willow cleared the mountains and started over the lake, the late afternoon light casting golden shadows on the waves down below. She hadn’t heard a quiet like this in a long time, perhaps in five years, and back then, the quiet was more suffocating. This one wasn’t. It was freeing.

She could see why Wanda had retreated here.

On the opposite shore, the cabin came into view and Willow began her descent, her back aching from the long flight and her heavy backpack. New York City felt a long way away—try as she might, she could never make the trip in a single day. Maybe it was for the better. Time spent in the city was chaotic, busy, full of responsibilities she didn’t feel ready for yet. She still felt herself looking to someone like Natasha for the answers, only to remember that she wasn’t there.

Wanda was sitting on the porch, cup of tea in one hand and the other shielding her eyes from the sun as Willow approached. Her feet hit ground, the grass just poking through the melted snow, the air smelling like spring and dirt. “Hey,” Willow said, stretching her wings out one last time before folding them in, though not all the way. Another reason she appreciated the cabin. There was nothing to hide here, no strangers spying on her every move. Her wings could touch daylight.

“Hey,” Wanda said, standing and turning towards the house. “I hope the trip—”

“It wasn’t bad,” Willow answered quickly. “It’s nice to… you know… get away from everything right now.” She followed Wanda into the cabin, the smell of dust and pine had almost become a comfort to her. On the table, she set down her backpack, unzipping it and pulling out several plastic bags. “I think I got everything—except for the cereal, they didn’t have that brand, so I went to another store, and even asked but they didn’t have it either.” She passed a box to Wanda. “So… this is similar?”

“You didn’t have to do all that,” Wanda said, and the corner of her mouth lifted as she set the box down. “I’m not picky.”

Willow shrugged. “I am.” She nodded at Wanda. “You know, in case the roles are ever reversed, the brand does matter to me…”

“I get it.”

“Bread,” Willow said, handing the bag to Wanda. “I hope it’s not squished. It got bumpy over the mountain pass.” She pulled a few more plastic bags from her backpack. “Oh! And look!” She held up one of the bags so that Wanda could peer inside. “I forgot which spices you said you needed, so there’s like… an assortment… there.”

“What’s in here?” Wanda asked as she searched through one of the bags with produce. “Are these… baby carrots?”

“Yup.” Wanda gave Willow a questioning look and Willow rolled her eyes as she zipped her backpack up and slid it against the wall. “Oh, come on. The Scarlet Witch or whatever still should eat a vegetable once in a while.” The joke rolled off her tongue easily enough, and she hoped it would be received that way as well.

“Now you sound like Natasha,” Wanda said, and she began to put away the items Willow had brought.

“Well, someone has to,” Willow said, the weight of her own words settling uncomfortably as she thought over the last few weeks. “Anyways…”

“You all right?” Wanda asked, turning back around from the cabinets. Willow had taken to wandering the cabin, tucking her wings in further as she navigated the small space.

“Well, you know. It is what it is.” Willow paused, trying to put what she was feeling into words. “It’s a weird time to be alive. You?”

Wanda didn’t respond, half-smiling as she shut the cabinet door, though there was no joy in the smile, just exhaustion. Willow sat down on the couch, wanting to say more, and yet not knowing what to say. She stared out the window at the darkening sky, the mountains disappearing into the clouds and the purple horizon. Where do we go from here?

Willow leaned over the back of the old couch to face Wanda, who was still heating a pot of water on the stove. “You know you can talk to me, right?” Willow asked.

“There’s nothing to talk about,” Wanda said with a sigh.

“Oh. Oka—”

“No, I’m— sorry.” Wanda looked up at Willow and leaned back on the sink, tucking her hands into the sleeves of her sweater as she thought. “I’m pretty sure I used to tell you the same thing, a long time ago. I know you’re just trying to help.” The pot on the stove began to simmer and Wanda turned her attention back to it, opening a box of pasta that Willow had delivered the previous week, and dumping enough of the shells into the pot for the both of them. “I’m glad you’re here,” she finally said. “After everything… you still…”

“You’d do the same for me,” Willow said. “You did the same thing for me. Remember when I first showed up at the compound?”

“Mm. It was like trying to tame a feral cat.”

Normally, Willow would have a retort back, but she only smiled at the memory, and then started laughing. “Yeah. I was really… scared, actually. When SHIELD found me, I thought my life was over.”

“How are the others?” Wanda asked. “I… well… I’m not sure they’d…” She gestured around at the cabin and shrugged helplessly.

“No, they’re just busy,” Willow answered. She laid her head in her arms as she continued to lean across the back of the couch and yawned. “Sam is with Bucky… I haven’t even begun to look into what they’re doing and honestly, I’m not ready to. But I have a feeling it’ll catch up to me eventually. It always does. Rhodey’s still at Stark’s, helping them sort through things. Clint’s home. Same with Scott, he’s home too. Remember Scott? He was at the airport. He was the one who came up with the whole time travel thing. Sort of. So, I’d say things have quieted down, but I don’t want to jinx it.”

The pasta finished and Wanda carefully used a spoon to hold back the pasta as she strained the water out before splitting the shells into two bowls and opened a jar of sauce on the shelf to pour over each one. “Cheese is in the fridge,” she said, and Willow got up to get it, also getting out two forks and two cups from the cabinet.

They sat on the floor, in front of the fireplace on the other side of the room, the cabin lit by a warm glow.

“You really just buy the cheese for yourself, huh?” Wanda asked as Willow screwed the top off of the bottle to shake out the Parmesan cheese faster. “I’m pretty sure you’ve gone through two of those in a month, and you’ve only been here for a few nights.”

“I’m pretty sure it’s called living deliciously,” Willow said.

For a while, the two of them ate in silence, the only sound the scraping of their forks against the bowls and the occasional press of wind rocking the cabin. It reminded Willow of the late-night dinners they used to make at the compound, long after everyone had gone to sleep, as they tried their damn hardest to not burn anything or set off the smoke detectors, which happened a few times too many.

“I saw a rat drag an entire burrito across the street the other day,” Willow said suddenly, finally tiring of the quiet.

“What?” Wanda asked.

“A rat. Like the size of a rabbit. Dragging a burrito across the street in Hells Kitchen. A fully wrapped burrito, filling and all. And it didn’t spill even a little of the filling. I stood there and watched the whole thing; I mean it took this rat like five minutes and cars were coming both ways.” She paused to scoop up a clump of sauce and cheese.

“Well?” Wanda said. “Did he make it?”

“Oh, he did,” Willow said. “I mean, it was close, the burrito got grazed by a tire once or twice, but he got it across the street. At one point he started rolling it on its side… now that was really something. It was like I was watching evolution in real time.”

Wanda smiled for the first time that day, a real smile, and it made Willow’s heart swell just a little, proud of the victory, no matter how small. “Hmm, we’re going to see that rat signing the Accords in a few weeks then,” Wanda responded with a small laugh.

“Yeah, right after the pigeon I saw take what I’m pretty sure was a deliberate poop on a cop car yesterday.”

They finished dinner and Willow cleaned up, washing the bowls and utensils in the sink and leaving them out to dry on the counter. She was exhausted, exhausted from the flight, the past week, and she was almost certain that if she wasn’t doing the dishes, she’d fall asleep standing up. She heard the crackle of static as Wanda turned the radio on, beaming in a signal from a lonely public radio station somewhere in the mountains. With a yawn, Willow climbed back over the top of the couch, plopping down and stretching as she tucked one of the pillows under her head.

“Oh, there’s no way you’re going to be able to stay awake for ten,” Wanda said, referencing the time their show started, some true crime radio show that they had been tuning into in lieu of a television and their usual fight over sitcoms, reality television, and documentaries, the latter which usually won out.

“No, I’ll make it,” Willow said. “Creature of the night and all.”

“Have you still been having them?” Wanda asked, laying down across the armchair that cornered the couch.

“What? No,” Willow said. “Not in a long time.”

“So, you’ve been sleeping?”

“Yeah.” Willow knew she didn’t sound convincing, but Wanda didn’t say anything else on the matter, the two of them sitting and listening to the radio as fuzzy alternative music came gently through the small speaker.

In Willow’s mind, there were plenty of other problems beyond stray nightmares, and besides, she knew she’d sleep just fine that night.

#wanda maximoff #marvel #mcu #scarlet witch #wandavision

[simsadventures]

After All: Chapter 8: To Give or Not to Give

Summary: You have your fun provoking Bucky, but your heart is not as well guarded as you thought.

Warnings: self-loathing, fluff, swearing

Word Count: 2181

A/N: I wrote this while high on meds, so… I’m not even sure it makes sense, but I wanted to post it so here we go. I hope y’all enjoy it anyway. Feedback is always appreciated, love you all xx

Series Masterlist __ Masterlist

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Your emotions were all over the place. Bucky seemed to have decided that he’d be around you 24/7. Wherever you went, Bucky was there. If it was the common room, where Wanda asked you and several other agents and techs to join her for a cup of coffee, and some delicious biscuits Vision made, or if it was in the gym where you were now spending a lot of your free time.

You wanted to believe that you were a strong woman who didn’t need no man, but the reality was a little different. Whenever you saw him, little butterflies erupted in your stomach, much like the first few weeks at the compound. You wanted to be indifferent to his boring looks, but the blush that crept to your cheeks probably gave you away.

The only thing you could have been proud of was the fact that you still didn’t let him in. It was a nice feeling, seeing him trying to get your attention, and all that, but he couldn’t have been so naive as to think that all it would take him would be few small talks and a charming smile and you’d be laying at his feet. If he wanted to be your friend again (because right now, that’s all he would be getting), he needed to show you that he was there for you.

Your provoking Bucky was one of the best parts of your days. You could see him suffering a little, whenever you pulled something a little out of the ordinary. You were doing small things, not to flirt with him, but maybe to let him see what could have been? You honestly couldn’t say what your motivation was, but you enjoyed every second!

You unbuttoned your shirt a little more whenever he came around the lab. Not that you had too much to put in your cleavage, but showing just a bit of skin was working miracles. You could always feel Bucky’s eyes on your chest, and seeing his face flushed was a sight to behold.

Or your favourite was just a simple red lipstick. You wore it from time to time in your old job to get a little more confidence, but here at the Avengers compound, you didn’t feel the need to do so. So it must have been quite a surprise to Bucky seeing you with bright red lips for the first time. You could only imagine what was going on in his mind, but from the look on his face, and his darkened eyes, you could only assume it was something hot and naughty.

You would always turn from him after seeing the effect of your little fun, and continue to work on the task at hand as if nothing happened.

You didn’t even want him to act on your little jokes... at least you thought so. But more and more you caught yourself staring at him as well, remembering how it felt to lay on his chest while watching a movie together, or what he really smelled like. Not the cologne which everyone could smell. No, the real Bucky, right after shower...

You were walking to your flat from the lab, all limbs hurting like hell. Not only were you working with Sam on his wings, which you had to pick up, and place differently, and those damn things were heavy as hell. You were also running that morning, Sam showing you the right way to do so, so you wouldn’t hurt yourself, and you’d actually train your muscles the right way.

You were almost at your door when you heard someone couch nervously. You didn’t realise you weren’t even looking where you were going, the route to your apartment all too known for you by this time. When you looked up, you could see Bucky staring at you, his back pressed against the wall facing your door.

“Bucky! What are you doing here?” you said but knew what kind of answer would inevitably come. “I haven’t seen you in a while, thought I’d check on you, doll. Now that I see you’re in one piece, I’ll be on my way.”

You sighed. You knew you might regret it later, but, “Do you want to come in?”

His face lit up, and probably not to make you change your mind, just nodded and waited for you unlock the door. He sat down at his favourite place, in the middle of your couch. He used to do this often because he knew you loved the right corner, and he would always say he hated sitting far from you.

“Would you like something to drink? Water, coffee, tea, beer..?”

“Beer would be nice, thank you.” You pulled out two beers out of the fridge, handed him one and took a sip of the other. You thought about where to sit, and because you still needed the upper hand, you sat in the armchair. Bucky bowed his head a little, knowing very well you did it on purpose. You didn’t like the armchair and you sitting there added another little knife to his heart. He had to remind himself that it was his own doing and that if he weren’t a complete ass. You would’ve been probably curled up in his side, mindlessly telling him about your day.

“How are you, Y/N,” Bucky said and the second he said it he blushed a little. He knew it sounded a little stupid, to just come to your apartment, sit and talk about your day after all of that, but you were willing to let it slide. You giggled a little, and he raised his head to look at you. A weird expression appeared on his face- happiness? Relief? Something else completely? You tried to not pay too much attention to it, after all, you had all night after he was gone out fo place to think about the whole night.

“Little sore, but other than that, good. What about you?”

“Sore? From what? Did something happen to you?” Bucky’s voice was laced with worry, and you felt your face muscles pulling another smile on your face, but you stopped them. You couldn’t be smiling at him like some schoolgirl.

“Oh, it’s nothing. I went for a run with Sam, and now I can barely walk, he really did a number on me.” You could have very much just say that you were training or something like that, but you wanted to see Bucky’s reaction. You weren’t sure whether he’d have one at all.

To your great pleasure, he did. He frowned, clenched his fists and set his jaw. He looked like he could murder someone.  

While you were having your fun, Bucky’s thoughts were all over the place. He wanted to tell you to stop torturing him by going out with the rest of the team. At the same time, he wanted to lock you up in your flat, and just keep you there, so no Sam nor Bruce could get to you.

But he knew he could never do that. Not only would you kill him, and the death would be slow and painful. He could also never live with himself if he did anything like that. He just wanted you for himself. It was selfish and wrong, he was very well aware, but he couldn’t help himself. Just seeing you, or hearing that you spent your days with other men, while still very single made his blood boil. The possessive side of him wanted to mark you with hickeys so that he laid his claim. God! He was losing his mind now! He thought to himself and tried to calm down.

You were nothing to own or to mark, and he had to remember that. He would just have a long friendly conversation with Sam, explaining the situation to him, because although everyone in h compound was aware of what happened, Sam didn’t seem to realise the implications. And if he did, well, it would be a very different kind of conversation between them.

“Why do you look like that, Rambo?”

Bucky scoffed. He promised himself he would never lie to you, so here came the truth. “I’m jealous of all those other men you’re spending your time with. There- I said it. Will you stop with this torture now?”

“Bucky, just because we were once friends don’t mean you can dictate my life now. I wanted to spend my time with you, remember?”

“Does that mean you don’t want to spend time with me, Y/N?

“Honestly? Two weeks ago, I’d tell you no, I don’t want to see you again. But now I don’t know what I want. You meant a lot to me, Bucky, and I was almost-” you stopped yourself before you said too much. “I cared about you, and I really thought you cared about me. But if you did, why didn’t you then make your own investigation into me being a spy? Or asked Steve? Or just fucking trusted in your own intuition?”

You tried to remain calm, so you were hissing at him from across the room when Bucky’s voice boomed through the room.

“Because I’m a fucking coward! Because I thought you were too good to be true! You look at me, and you don’t see the fucking Winter Soldier! You see me for who I really am. You see Bucky. And you are just perfect, your smile warms my heart, and it brightens everyone’s day. Your eyes, they can see right through people, and it’s scary and comforting at the same time because I feel like you would never judge me for my thoughts. You are so smart that it might become my new kink, to be honest. And you are fucking gorgeous.

And I couldn’t believe that a catch like you would ever be interested in a shady guy with baggage like me. You are perfect, and I’m not. And just... when Hannah told me, my mind jumped to a conclusion immediately, because I can’t see how anyone could be into someone like me. You scare me because the things you can do to hurt me are immense, and I just worry you will stomp on my heart and dance on it just to make sure it’s shattered.

I’ve been used pretty much my whole life, even the US used me, if you think of it, during the war. They used us all as weapons. Then Hydra came, and I knew nothing but dictatorship and pain. I need to be free. But at the same time, I need you!

You ground me. When I’m with you I see myself through your eyes, and it’s a fucking good look, let me tell you that. I need to be around you because whenever I’m not, my mind races towards you if you’re ok if something made you smile today if I can touch your smooth skin just to feel the electricity. I need you around me, because you make me want to be a better person, and because you make me excited about the future like nothing or nobody else! I just need you.

I understand it’s a lot to take in, and that it might take me a lifetime to make sure you know how much I need you and care about you. I’m willing to go through that. I don’t want to look at another girl, even if you decided to keep me around as a friend. But please, please, doll, think about it. Give me one more chance! I will prove to you I’m worth your trust and love. Please.”

By the time he finished, he was kneeling in front of you, while you could do nothing more than gape at him, tears threatening to fall out. You wanted to be strong and protect your heart, but this speech made you feel things. He was so raw, so pure that there was no doubt in your heart, he was honest. There were few stray tears on his face which he didn’t even try to wipe away. He was there, right in front of you, his heart on his sleeve and you wanted nothing more than to jump around his neck and make sure he stopped the self-loathing.

So to make a compromise, you took his hand, placed it in yours and squeezed. You couldn’t push him away completely. As much as one part of you would want nothing more, you knew you wanted him there. You wanted to be able to trust him again.

Bucky didn’t try anything else, he knew he was on thin ice with and took your hand gladly. It was an olive branch from you, and he was more than eager to accept it. “I was thinking..” you said and looked at him sheepishly, “I wanted to see Nocturnal Animals for a while, would you like to watch it with me? Maybe on Friday night?”

He smiled so hard you thought his cheeks would burst and nodded eagerly.

You had a good feeling about this. For real.

/ Next Chapter >

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#bucky barnes #bucky #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes fanfiction #james bucky barnes #avengers #avengers fanfiction #sam wilson #bruce banner #marvel #mcu #mcu fanfiction #fluff #fluffy bucky