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#and Bucky is stupid enough to listen to him
hollyseb · 3 months
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YOU’RE NOT OKAY, YOU’RE SHAKING - oneshot
CEO!Bucky x Reader
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Warnings: swearing, violence
just a short one for this week bc I’m in the middle of exams !! as always, please let me know what you thing :)
You’d been working as Bucky's assistant for a couple of weeks. You settled in fairly well, although you had to admit you found him a little intimidating.
You tried your best to stay out of his hair, planting his schedule on his desk before he got into the office, and scurrying out when the clock hit 5. When you did face each other, it often involved you sending him a squeaky “hi” with a small smile, and him shooting you a curt nod.
That’s why when one of Bucky’s clients was rude to you, no… downright nasty, you chose to keep your mouth shut.
Rumlow.
God, you dreaded every time you saw him on Bucky’s meeting schedule.
It started with exaggerated sighs, then emphasised head shaking whenever he laid his eyes on you. It was almost comical, really. You’d snort at his behavior if he didn’t make you feel so conscious. You could feel the dislike roiling from him.
It wasn’t until today though, that he finally let his discontempt be known.
You were acutely aware of your controversial presence at the office. You were much younger than everyone else, pretty too. So when you strolled in with your baby pink sweaters, and the fresh bouquet of flowers on your desk, you knew people were judging you.
You walked out of your office, hands clutching disordered papers, and unfortunately, you weren’t watching where you were going.
You rounded the corner and immediately collided with a wall of muscle. You were opening your mouth to spew out a hastened apology, heat rising in your cheeks, when you were cut off.
“Stupid bitch”, the man muttered, shouldering past you.
You were frozen in place, paralysed by embarrassment, unable to breathe. Your feet carried you back to your office, tears forming in the corner of your eyes. You sat down in your office chair, brushing your hair behind your ears when your office door opened gently.
God no. Your boss had seen the encounter. No, no, no. You were embarrassed enough. You didn’t need Bucky to see you cry. You kept your eyes locked on the floor as he approached you.
“Hey”, his voice much more gentle than you had ever heard it before, “are you okay?” He kneeled at your chair.
“Y-yes, I’m fine really, Bucky”, you shrugged him off, avoiding his eyes. Suddenly feeling conscious at the way he had positioned himself before you.
“Look at me”, he almost sounded like he was pleading with you. He placed a hand on your knee, rubbing small circles with his thumb.
You looked at him through blurry vision, afraid that the waterworks would burst if he paid you any more attention. You wanted to shove him away, to tell him to let you gather yourself, like a professional would. He continued, “you’re not okay, you’re shaking”.
“I just-”, you sighed shakily, “he’s always been like this, y’know just rude…”, Bucky listened intently as you rambled on, his eyes soft and sympathetic. He really listened to you.
When you finished your venting session, you felt undeniably lighter. Bucky’s hand still sitting on your knee. His other hand rose to wipe a stray tear from your cheek. You felt heat rise in your cheeks. You’d never seen this side to Bucky, he was… almost charming.
He cut your thoughts short, “come on, let me drive you home”.
You immediately shook your head, “no, no, I can’t let you do that Bucky, and plus, you’ve got a client waiting”, hinting at Rumlows presence.
“Him?” Bucky cocked an eyebrow at you sarcastically, “he was let go the second he called you stupid”.
You gaped at that, not expecting Bucky to fire one of his most frequent clients. You tried to start reasoning with him, about how one small issue couldn’t interfere with his business.
He interrupted your rambling, “you should’ve told me sooner, really”. He was guiding you up from your chair, placing a hand on your lower back and grabbing your bag for you.
Bucky drove you home, slowly and with care, keeping one hand on your knee the whole time.
When you pulled up to your apartment, your boss got out and opened the passenger door for you. A gentleman, as always. You smiled at that. Maybe your intimidating boss has a soft spot for you.
He ran a hand down your arm, “nobody will ever speak to you like that again. I’ll make sure of it.” His calm demeanor contrasting the grit in his voice. You could tell he would keep his promise.
You didn’t need to know how Bucky sped back to his office and beat Rumlow so hard his jaw broke. More importantly, you didn’t need to know the way Bucky reveled in it. The feeling of protecting you, avenging you. He was drunk on it.
Later that night, you received a bouquet of flowers, and a takeout from your favourite place. A smirk rising on your face… Bucky.
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@kandis-mom
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noceurous · 2 months
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get you back
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summary: You hated that you loved Bucky Barnes, and he loved that you could not hate him.
warnings: mention of alcohol consumption, semi-drunkenness, carsex (18+), fingering, oral, swearing, smut, p in v, unprotected sex (don’t do it), fuckbuddy!bucky, dbf!bucky, implied age gap, mention of bad boyfriends (not bucky), using nicknames (princess, bunny) , slight degradation - nothing physical, some mention of food
minors dni
a/n: yes I AM BACK. please leave some comments/reblogs. thanks!!
A loud snap of fingers made you turn your head to him. “Are you even listening to me?” You sighed, pressing fingers on your temples to look like you were trying to remember.
No, you weren’t listening. You were thinking how that hot guy was about to give you his number, before James Buchanan Barnes a.k.a the actual devil, snatched you away. Leading you to his car without giving you a chance to say goodbye to the best body you have ever seen.
You. Hated. James. Bucky. Barnes.
“Something about… bunnies?” You shrugged as you turned your head back towards the road. Even though it was almost pitch black, you fought your urge to look at his profile under car’s lights. Even though he was angry and sleepless he looked better than all the guys you’ve ever known.
“Really? You are not even trying kid.” He said as he emphasized on the last word. He knew how much you hated the nickname.
“Stop calling me a kid. I’m not that young.”
“I will stop calling you a kid, when you stop acting like one. What were you thinking? What was the point of all that drinking? Get my attention or liver failure?”
The point was to get over your ex boyfriend finding someone before you did. You didn’t want to be the one who was stuck in an ended relationship.
You weren’t even prepared to the idea that he would start dating in a few months. His post just popped on your phone while you were scrolling through pictures on Instagram. Selfie with her, cheek to cheek and smiling like a true dumbass he is.
Getting ass drunk would be a nice way to forget. But you shouldn’t been too drunk to start texting and calling other people.
Especially calling the guy you hated the most. Because he would show up just in time, and yank you away from the guy you were flirting with.
You really shouldn’t have drunk texted your on-again-off-again hookup. Neighbour of your parents, a close friend of your dad.
It started just a few days after your heartbreak. You weren’t sure of how it started, but you remembered how it ended. In his bed, literally begging him for letting you cum as he pounded into you like an animal.
When you weren’t fucking, all you did was argue. Arguments about when to meet up or where to meet up… You hated meeting up in his place, so close to your parents. And he hated meeting only for an hour max.
You started fighting and decided to not meet up again. Either of you got tired of all the lies and secrets. It was you more than it was him. Bucky was always sure you would come back to him one way or another.
“Remind me not to call you again.” You huffed, resting your head on the window. Sun was about to shine in a few hours and all you wanted was to get into your bed. All you needed was forget the day and move on.
“Sure your parents would be thrilled to know their daughter would end up in jail for DUI.” You turned your neck so fast that it hurt.
“I wasn’t going to drive the car!”
“You getting into car of a drunk idiot is stupid enough too!”
“Stop acting like you are my dad! He was fucking hot, and he told me his place was really close.”
“What made you believe in him? I know what that kind of guy thinks. It is only getting you to the bed. You would be considered lucky if he bothered to call you the next day.”
“So? What made you think I am not okay with it?” You saw all the blood rushing to his cheeks, decorating them with a soft pink hue.
“Okay...” He said trying to not go any further with that discussion.
You dropped your shoulders, when you saw how his grasp on wheel tightened and his jaw clenched. If you didn’t know him that well, you would say he was offended.
Whether it was because of anger towards him or how tired you were. You didn’t say anything back but leant your seat back to at least sleep for the rest of the ride.
“Oh no princess, you are definitely not sleeping.” He said just before he slapped your thigh. Small ‘Hey!’ fell from your lips. It was fair to expect him to snap and say you crossed a line.
You yanked your leg away from his grasp. He shut you up before you could say anything back. “You made me get all this way three in the morning. Ofcourse there would be consequences.”
“I didn’t ask you to come.” You said as you rubbed your thigh.
“You sent me a picture of you lifting your skirt and texted all those things you want to do with me. But when I come to pick you up, I saw you on the lap of some dickhead.”
“I was horny. We’ve decided to stop with fooling around. Life moves on James.” As you finished the sentence, his foot stepped on the pedal so quick that he had to use his arm to stop you from falling forward.
“Get in the back of the car.”
“James, I’m tired.”
“Get in the back, or I will make you bunny.” You didn’t said anything back. Bucky never called you bunny, if he didn’t have something on his mind. You knew better than to take the risk of getting him angrier.
You rolled your eyes before unfastening your seatbelt. He caught the sight of your underwear as you bent over to move through the gap between the seats. Even though Bucky saw your pink thong, you acted like you had the upper hand.
“Take off your skirt.” He said before coming next to you. He almost yanked off the door before squishing you on the backseat.
He pulled you by your legs, making you lie down. The cold leather of the seats caused goosebumps on your skin. That and you knew what he was capable of when he was angry.
And he was pissed.
“Not so tired ha, bunny?” His large hands wandered along your legs, moving slowly towards your hips.
A loud noise of your gulp echoed in your brain. You could get used to that view. You legs hooked to his shoulders. His charming face inches over your lucky thong.
“Tell me again bunny.” He said as his eyes locked on your figure under his, trying not to smirk at the wet patch on your thong.
“Tell you what?” You asked. Blinking at him with nothing else on your mind.
“Tell me again the last thing you told me before breaking up with me. So I would not have my way with you.”
“Uhm...” He started kissing on the top of your thighs. Index finger was tracing your slit over the thong.
“We can’t keep doing this and not expect one of us getting hurt. Ah-“ He bit inside of your thigh, sucking a gentle bruise. “James.”
He didn’t listen to you. If he ever did that was not it definitely.
“I’m listening. Continue.” Kisses, soft bites started decorating your body.
His hands placed next to your waist. His teeth brushed along the band of your thong. You wanted to raise your hips. But the way he looked up at you, the darkness in his eyes, made you stop.
You licked your lips, closing your eyes to concentrate. “We continue lying to our close ones and soon enough the lies would get out of—“ You stopped as he curled his finger like a hook to pull down your thong.
He mumbled something that you were sure was Russian as he got close to your heat. His eyes looked into your eyes. You knew he was daring you to stop.
If you stop I’ll stop too bunny.
He didn’t need to speak for you to understand.
“—hands. Lies get out of our hands. It is too risky and it does not worth it. We both know that this affair does not take LONG!”
He licked a stripe over your slit. As his cold fingers separated your folds. He loved to torture you like this.
“I don’t want any of us to get hurt.” You manage to finish your speech as you felt the familiar tingles build up.
The tip of his tongue flicked your clit and you had to hold on to something, his hair, to stop your thighs to close around his head.
“See this is where you are wrong, bunny. There isn’t any chance where you can hurt me...” He said as his fingers collected some of your juices, raising them to his lips. “Unless you try to neglect me of your sweet nectar.” He sucked his fingers clean, you heard a tiny ‘hmm’ as his fingers touched his tongue.
He raised his head to look at you when he was circling around your weeping hole. “Answer this, do you want to hurt me bunny?” He wanted to make you weep as much as your pussy.
“N-no. I don’t want to hurt you.”
“Then why you try to break things off?” The tip of his finger slowly pushed into your whole. He pulled it back before you could enjoy this. “Are you going to try and break things off again?” Another question he didn’t need to hear its answer to. He could read it from your tearful eyes and slight pout. “Oh bunny.” He whispered to himself, pride filling his chest.
His finger went back to circling around your hole as he used another one to toy with your clit. You could not stop yourself from curling your toes and try to pull him closer.
That arrogonat smirk on his face made a comeback. “Are you going to flirt with other guys who I’m sure does not even know what a clit is?” You shook head your again and he pressed his thumb.
“Fuck.” You said as you squirmed under his touch.
“Not the answer I am looking for. Do you want to try again bunny?”
“I—I’m not going to flirt with other guy a—and ohgod!” He pushed one inch of his finger inside curling the tip so it would reach your spot. You didn’t stop so he wouldn’t either. “I’m not going break things o—off.”
One more inch and you knew you would start to drip onto seats. Before you knew it, his mouth got back onto your clit. “James!” You said again as you pulled onto his locks.
“Shit! It’s only been a week but your pussy is crying out f’ me.” He said as he stood back up.
Your legs started shaking by the time. You whimpered at the lost contact of his fingers and lips. You also missed seeing him with your thighs wrapped around his head.
You knew if you touched yourself he would bite your fingers and deny you any sort of release. He quickly unfastened his belt and lowered his pants and boxers just low enough to take out his cock.
The tip was swollen red it was starting to leak some precum as he pressed it on your clit. “You are an attention whore bunny. It’s been only a week and I find you cosy with another guy. This deserves punishment don’t you think?”
“Please! I’ve been just trying to get your attention.” He smiled at your confession as he aligned his tip.
“Tell me you are mine and mine only. If you tell me that, I’ll give you what you want.”
“I’m yours James. I’m only yours, I do not belong to anybody else.” He started slowly push into you.
He leaned over you to fix the hair got on your face. His lips brushed along yours when you moaned as he found the spot. Your legs started to got down but he held them back. Pushing your bent knee to your chest as he started moving.
His hips started rutting into you slowly. “So pretty like this bunny. All spread out for me.” His tongue darted out from his lips to giving you a longing kiss. All teeth and tongue, full of lust and desire.
His large hands pulled down your strapless top, letting your tits out. His tongue clicked on top of mouth. “And thinking I would be sharing them with some dickhead.” He pushed into you hardly, making you jump into his arms.
“I don’t share bunny. Never.” You knew he meant more with those words.
Air inside the car was getting thick because of your panting. His fingers started playing with your nipples to get them erect as he held your tits together and started licking and sucking both of them.
“Not the teeth ah!” You tried to protest but he had already sunk his teeth into your extra-sensitive flesh. Sweet melody of your cries caused him to increase speed. He wanted more.
You yelped as you tried to find something to hold onto, best thing you found was the back of his shoulder as you pressed your nails against his skin. Bruises and scratches would be greeting both of you as first thing in the morning but it didn’t bother you as long as it came with pleasure.
“FuckFuckFuck!” Familiar coil started to form under your belly button, and you threw your head back. “James, please please…”
“Wanna cum bunny? Is that it? Mumblin’ because you are too close?” He said after detaching from your nipples with a pop. The little numb was all swollen and covered in saliva.
“Y-yes oh.” He slammed his hips onto yours with more force and stayed pressed into you. “Cum for me bunny. Cream all over my cock, fuck, you filthy girl, so eager for a release.” He said as he stopped your wriggling hips against is. “Humpin’ me like a cute lil’ bunny.”
Your hips started moving involuntarily, chasing after your release. He helped you with continuing the pound into you. You were chanting his name unable to form more coherent words or sentences.
“That’s it bunny. Cum for me come on! I’ve got you.” Just after he was finished your release hit you like a wave, causing you to lose all the control of your mind and body.
But he didn’t stop, he increased his pace. Chasing his own release using your numb body. “‘So pretty like this bunny. Makes me want to keep you all to myself.”
“I’m all yours.” You whispered, truly meant it. As you became used to the swell on your chest each time you look at him.
You were really his.
“Yeah? Are you going to take my cum? Let me breed you? I’m sure you would love that don’t you bunny? All swollen with my cum, looking at me with those pretty eyes. Fuck!”
“Yes, yes yes give it to me please.”
“Fucking take it. You little cumslut.” You felt the wetness and warmth of his release shoot right inside of you.
He stood there with your legs wrapped around his waist. Looking at your tired and ruined figure. Taking the sight in just before he slowly pulled out.
“We—“ You tried to speak up, trying not to show him how much you missed his cock inside you already.
As he was putting his clothes back on you once were aware of this situation.
There was no We, you two were just fucking whenever one of you needed some release. No matter what you do to get his attention, all you would get was his dick pounding into you. It won’t be his heart.
Sound of glove compartment’s being closed made you raise on your elbows to look at him.
You saw him take out some tissues to wipe off his leaking cum. “Are you on the pill?” You shook your head, you knew how those were messing up with you. “I’m not ovulating, it’s fine.” He shook his head, “Still gotta get you some plan B. We shouldn’t be risking it.”
“Sure.” You tried to swallow the ache in your throat, and your pride.
You fixed your top and found your thong on the ground, raising it to put it on. Tension between the two of you was so thick that a saw could not even cut it.
He got back on his seat and started the engine. “The sun is about to rise, I can drive to a diner and got us some breakfast. There is a place I know makes your favourite. They are also good at making it.” He couldn’t hide his smile when he saw your smile at the mention of the food. He loved making you smile like that.
Sleep was the last thing on your mind, since he fucked your brains out. Since it had been more than 10 hours since you last ate something; growling sounds from your stomach was about to come. “Sounds good but I want to wear my skirt first.”
“Sure bunny.” He said as he tossed your skirt back to you.
And it was a second, just a second, that he felt like he could get used to it.
He could get used to having breakfast with you. He could get used to your face being the first thing he saw as he started his day. He could get used to having sex with only one person, someone really means something to him.
But when your phone buzzed, and he saw your dad’s name on the screen he got back into reality.
You sent it to voicemail, and leaned closer to him over the table. He saw the same smile again on your lips and the familiar spark on your eyes.
“So what do you say? Your place or mine?”
He smiled back at you, leaning over you. “Which one do you prefer, bunny?” He knew he could go on as long as you looked at him like that.
As long as you looked at him with love. Even if you were just realizing, he was already an addict for it.
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hi, i hope you're doing okay!
so look i know your requests are closed but i just had an ✨insight✨while reorganizing my room today and i couldn't stop thinking about it, so i decided to write it down here cause either i'd forget it like tomorrow. you don't need to do it, obviously, but if you will, take your time.
so. fem!reader and bucky, established relationship (maybe married) and she's pregnant but she doesn't know cause it's like, super early, she didn't even have morning sickness yet. and mr. super-soldier-enhanced-hearing can hear the baby's heart as soon as it starts beating and he's like confused at first but when he realizes what it is he starts crying and hugging her waist and she's like "buck? you okay love?" and he says "you're pregnant honey, we're having a baby!" bucky's super emotional and thrilled and beyond happy he starts laughing through the tears. he gets super protective of her and her belly but like always pampering her making sure she's drinking enough water and eating and going out at three am to but something shes craving and he's like, super excited to shout to the world he got his girl pregnant with his baby. and he starts sleeping with his head on her belly just listening to the baby's heartbeat as a lullaby.
(he's gonna be the best dad i just know it <3)
hii angel!! love it!! I did change some things, hope that’s okay. thanks for requesting and hope you like it💌
>requests now open<
EXTRA GRILLED CHEESE.
bucky barnes x fem!reader
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word count. 1066
summary. bucky has suspicions that you might be pregnant
For the last week, Bucky had an expression you struggled to place - his face often pulled together with intrigue, brows quizically furrowed when around your company. At first, it seemed normal to you - his infamous resting bitch face, but the more he wore it around you, the more you started to worry. 
You often felt as though you were bothering him with your talking, the features on his face unusually hard and rigid as he listened to you. It was a silly thought, really - he's your husband. He'd tell you if he needed a minute of quiet. 
But the harder you looked, the more you began to realise his face wasn't that of judgment, but instead inspection - like he was analysing you.
Elbows resting on the kitchen island, you lean over the countertop, getting closer to Bucky sitting on the other side.
"Another one?" you ask, reaching for his empty plate.
He wryly smiles. "Only if you are."
"One is never enough," you chuckle sweetly, pulling the ingredients back out of the fridge - collecting everything you need for grilled cheese. "Might do a few more— been really hungry lately. That cool with you?"
Bucky hums softly, head tilted to the side as he watches you - completely smitten. That confusing expression long gone. 
"I got it," he stands, moving around the island to you on the other side. "I got the rest. You sit, honey."
You smile cutely, stepping aside and sitting on the countertop - allowing your husband's help. "What do you want to do tonight? Movie and snacks?"
He places the sandwiches in the pan and moves to stand between your legs - slotting his lower half between. Giving you a chaste kiss, he smiles, eyes soft as he looks over you. "Sounds good. Will have to go to the store though— don't have enough in."
"We can go after this?" you offer.
He hums, kissing you sweetly. He pulls back, eyes darting over you. "We'll stop past the pharmacy first. Gotta pick something up."
⎯ ☆ ⎯
Back within the comfort of home, you and Bucky begin to put away the items from the store - bags open on the worktop as you rummage through them, standing side by side. 
Bucky stills and turns to face you, reaching into his pocket. "I uh..." he pauses and clears his throat. "I picked this up while you were looking at things in the pharmacy," he starts, pulling out a small rectangular box. "Feels stupid, I don't know," he shrugs, not confident with the direction of his proposal. 
Your eyes flicker from the box in his hand and up to his face, looking over him inquisitively. "A pregnancy test?" you ask, taking it from his light hold.
"Feels like I'm insulting you," he chuckles bashfully, stepping closer to you. "It's just... I have this feeling," he says softly, extending his hands to rest on either side of your face. "You don't have to take it."
"No— no, I do— I think. I want to. It's just that..." you exhale faintly. "We haven't really spoken about this for a while. What if it's not the result we want? What if we don't like what we see on the test?" you ask anxiously, fiddling with the box.
Bucky pauses, a soft smile on his face as he tilts your face back up - making you look up at him again. "We have time," he says sweetly. "If we don't like what we see, there are changes— there's other options," he solidifies his reassurance with a kiss. "I'll be happy with either result."
"Should I do it now?" you ask, looking down at the box.
"You do it when you're ready, honey. Doesn't have to be now, doesn't have to be today."
Briefly reading over the writing, you feel a slight swell in your heart. It all felt so daunting. You knew this was something you'd both eventually want, but the idea of it beginning now was enough to make you feel queasy. Everything was going so well in your lives, and this was such a big step in your marriage - you were just scared of what the result would do to you both.
With a deep inhale, you shrug sweetly, feigning bravado. "Piece of cake."
"Piece of cake," he repeats, kissing your temple. 
Stepping aside, you walk into the bathroom - box clutched in hand as you read through the directions. The heavy thumping in your ears distracting you from understanding it all. 
After following the instructions, you place the stick aside on some toilet paper and call in your husband, moving to sit on the edge of the bath. Without missing a beat, Bucky steps into the small room, eyes focused on yours as he walks to sit beside you - slipping his hand into yours assuringly. His large hand enveloping yours. 
You sit in uneasy quiet for what feels like an hour, each of your brains whirling with thoughts and ideas and questions - the noise far too loud in your minds. 
Then, finally, after a while, your timer goes off, the obnoxious sound interrupting you both from your fazed-out states.
"You look."
"Are you sure?" he asks, holding your hand as you both stand.
You hum anxiously, nodding at him.
With one hand tightly in yours, the other reaches for the little stick - fingers loosely wrapping around it. Bucky stills, the features on his face slowly softening.
"What does it say?"
He nods faintly, his brows curving up in the middle. "Positive," he murmurs, the shock evident in the way his tone wavers. "It's positive."
"Positive?" you repeat, your expression widening.
He hums, enveloping you in a tight embrace - pressing kisses into your cheek. 
"We're having a baby," you mutter, voice cracking slightly.
"Yeah," he nods, pulling back to look over your face - checking you were okay with it all as he is. "We're having a baby," he echos you, cupping your cheeks.
"You're okay with this?" you ask, focus blurring from a few stray tears.
He nods firmly. "Of course," he chuckles, his tearline slowly filling. "Are you?"
"Yeah," you laugh lightly, nodding - the gentle grip of his hands moving with the soft motion of your head.
"I'll give you everything you want. Everything you need— I'll get you it all."
You already had everything you wanted.
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marvellous1917 · 9 months
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Icarus Falling
(Part 2)
Pairing: mob!Bucky x female!tattoo artist!reader
Summary: It’s gonna be a busy day. Giving a tattoo to a mobster that broke into your home was nothing compared to the fact that you can’t stop thing about how fucking hot he is.
Warnings: lots and lots of swearing, mention of crime (duh), fights, broken bones, tattoo needles, threats, think that’s it.
Part one ⬇️:
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A/N: AAHHHH the response to part one was actually insane!!!! I hope this second part is good enough. Love u all <3
———————
Bold is reader’s thoughts.
Italics is Bucky’s thoughts.
The size of the tattoo is in inches.
———————
Walking to the shop, your thoughts were running a mile a minute. Holy fuck, what the fuck, did last night actually happen?, James Barnes is gorgeous and made falling asleep last night really fucking difficult, screw him for making me all hot and bothered. Asshole. But one persistent one came screaming to the front- how the fuck am I supposed to tell Frank?
Unfortunately there was not a lot of time to come up with an answer to that, the shopfront coming into view as you turn the corner. Jigsaw Ink stood proud in the middle of the busy Brooklyn street, the black paint of the walls in stark contrast to the pastel pink of the florists’ to one side and the baby blue of the cafe the other.
The shop was a second home to you, the couch at the front becoming a bed for you sometimes after a night out, or if Caleb was being an ass. Frank was nice enough to let you crash when you needed, trusting you with his business. Frank, and the other two artists at the shop, Billy and Curtis were like family - a weird combination of protective older brothers and best friends who were terribly bad influences on you.
The bell on the door rang when you opened it and there was a yelled “Y/N? That you?” from a deep voice at the back of the room.
“Yeah Frankie, it’s me. I thought Billy was supposed to be here, not you?” You yelled back, moving behind the counter toward your station, dropping your bag and taking off your jacket.
“He was, but he managed to get his ass knocked out last night so he’s taking the day off,” Frank replied laughing, walking out from the back towards you.
“What? Is he ok?” You ask, giving Frank a hug when he got closer.
“Managed to piss somebody off at a bar, not really sure what happened, but he’s fine. Just stupid,” he replied, patting your back as you release him.
“Don’t get me wrong, I love the guy but he is an idiot I swear, you can guarantee it was his fault as well,” you say.
Frank chuckle and nods as a response, “yeah I bet. Hey , you got many appointments today?” He asks.
Shit. How the fuck am I supposed to tell Frank Castle - literally the most protective man on earth - that I had to move all of my appointments to next week because a damn mobster broke into my house and demanded I gave him a tattoo today.
“…uh. No just the one, I had to move the rest,” you answer, praying to whoever was listening that Frank wouldn’t ask any questions.
“Why’s that?”
Fuucckkkk.
“Umm..no reason really..” your mind went completely blank, the only thing running through you head were those goddamn blue eyes.
“Kid, what’s going on?” Franks’ eyes narrowing, seeing straight through your bullshit response.
Ughhh. Change the subject right now. “Y’know you call me kid all the time, you’re not that much older than me Frankie. I mean there’s only-”.
“You’re ramblin’ kid. The fuck is going on?” He says, all sense of humor him from his voice.
Ah, there his is, protective Frankie coming in full force.
“Shit. Ok so here’s what happened-” you tell him the full story, coming home from work to see a dangerous criminal chilling in your apartment, the fear that came with that lovely surprise, Caleb’s debt, the weird philosophical conversation, the tattoo talk. All of it.
Of course, excluding the part where you found yourself extremely attracted to the fucking mobster, his weirdly slightly comforting presence, and the fact that the memory of those blue eyes where all you could see as your hand slipped between your legs before you fell asleep.
To be fair to the man, Frank listened to every word you had to say, not interrupting one. But you could see on his face every single emotion he was feeling, the main one being just straight up confusion.
“Lemme get this straight. The fucking Winter Soldier broke into your house last night and is coming in for a tattoo in..” he checked his watch as he spoke, “..an hour?”
“..yeah.” Hit the nail on the head there Frankie.
“Shit.” He says, rubbing his hand over his face in an act of desperation.
“Yep.” You say, patting his arm to try and reassure him.
“Alright, I’m gonna be here the whole time, don’t you worry about that kid. You’re gonna be fine.” He assures you, obviously worried about you.
“I know that Frankie, and if it’s any consolation, he didn’t seem all that bad.” You answer.
“Not that bad?!” He almost shouts, and incredulous look on his face, “Y/N he’s a fucking gangster. He’s fucking danger-“
“FRANK!” You yell, the only way to cut off his tirade before it starts. “I know that, but last night he didn’t do anything bad,okay, and if he wanted to hurt me, he definitely would have done it by now. I’ll be fine Frank, I’ll just give him the tattoo and that will be it. Now if you’ll excuse me, I gotta set everything up.” You say, moving back to your station, beginning to grab everything you need.
“Holy fuck kid, how are you not freaking the fuck out right now?” He whisper shouts, running one hand up and down his head.
“I’m not sure. I think…I think I trust him not to hurt me. It’s weird, but my gut’s telling me I’ll be fine.” You answer, starting to print some different sized stencils.
“Kid your brain is brok-” Frank starts to say but he’s cut off by his phone ringing. He pulls it from his pocket and says “Shit, it’s my kids’ school, I gotta take it.”
You wave him off, Frank answers the phone with a sigh.
He walks off to the back of the shop, leaving you to finish setting up your station. Frank talks for a minute and wander back towards you.
“My girl got into a fight at school, Maria’s busy at work so I’ve got to go get her,” he says, dragging his hands down his face, in a way only an exasperated father could.
“Oh my god is she ok?” You ask.
“She’s fine, but apparently she broke some little shitheads nose for picking on her friends,”
“Like father, like daughter then,” you respond with a laugh.
“Can the people I care about stop getting themselves in dangerous situations for like five goddamn seconds.” Frank says, throwing a pointed glare your way.
“Frankie, how many times, I’m gonna be fine alright, go get your kid and -I dunno- take her out for ice cream, tell her she did good.” You say, pushing him to the door.
“Only if you’re one hundred percent certain you’ll be fine.” He says, already pulling his jacket from the hook.
“I’m good I swear, now go!”
“Ok ok I’m going, stop pushing me” he says, leaving the shop and letting the door fall closed behind him, the bell ringing as it did.
Only a minute passed before your phone pinged with a text.
James:
Have you already forgotten about me that quickly doll?
Send me the address to the shop
Now… please
Fuck me. Why does just his text give me fucking butterflies. Ugh. How irritating.
You send him the address and his response is cheeky as shit.
James:
See you at 1 doll, you better be wearing something pretty for me.
Little shit.
————
You had the music in the shop bumping, using it to help calm your pounding heart, adrenaline starting to get the best of you. Your favourite song came over the speakers so you turned it up and started to dance a little, knowing that you had at least 10 minutes before Barnes turned up. Unfortunately this action caused you to miss the ringing of the bell on the door.
Holy shit - ink and a show, today is going better than expected already.
Bucky slowly let the door close, trying not to disturb the dancing girl he couldn’t get out of his head. He lent against the wall, just watching and waiting…and staring.
Shaking out your hands to get rid of any nerves, you turn and nearly scream when you see Barnes stood at the door.
“Oh god, sorry I didn’t hear you come in,” you say, subtly looking him up and down and damn he looks good. Ever the powerful mobster, he wore a black suit, his black shirt had no tie and was unbuttoned at the top. His hair was slicked back from his face, opposite to how it was the night before. This was the other side of him, the business man - James Barnes: the face of multiple charities, the man that law enforcement could never seem to put behind bars. Last night you met the threat, the assassin, and you may be one of the first in his history to survive a meeting with the Soldier.
“No problem doll, I was enjoying the show,” he says, pushing off of the wall and stalking towards you.
Oh my god, “oh..ok, well I have everything set up and ready so if you’re ok to start I say let get going,” you respond, turning to the part of the shop where your station was, nerves flooding back, wanting to get this over as soon as possible.
“Damn girl, not even any small talk?” He asks, slowly following you to the table.
“Oh sorry, I would have asked how your day has been so far, but I didn’t want you to think I was prying into your business. I wouldn’t want you to think I was being disrespectful ab-”
“Ramblin’ again doll, thought I told you that you don’t need to be afraid of me,” he said softly, sounding genuine. “I know what people say about me, I understand why you would be nervous, but I just ask you to not believe everything you hear, ok doll? I’m not who they say I am.” His tone was gentle, almost tired but still pleading, hoping you believe him.
“So you’re not a mobster?” You ask, voice low and calm.
“Oh no I am,” he responds with a small laugh, “I am, and I do what gangsters do. But I am not the ruthless animal I’m made out to be, doll I’m just not. I do what needs to be done.”
His voice breaks slightly on the pet name. His tone is so sincere and tired. Oh my..he’s telling the truth. It actually affects him to hear that about himself.
“Ok,” you respond, siting on your stool next to your station and the table, looking up at him with no fear in your eyes, trusting his words.
“Ok? That’s your response?” He asks, moving around the table to sit on it directly in-front of you.
“Yeah. What did you want me to do Barnes, not believe you?” You ask, all fear gone from your voice.
“Of course not,” he says, confusion laced in his voice, his eyebrows furrowed, “but I wasn’t expecting you to believe me immediately, shit you were scared of me like a minute ago.”
“I know but I think I trust you? You haven’t done anything to me, y’know other than breaking into my apartment. I trust you when you say you’re not someone I should be afraid of.” You answer truthfully.
“…good.” He says, at a loss of what to say next.
“Good. So, Barnes, are we doing this or what?” You ask.
“Yeah let’s do it doll, and please, call me Bucky.” He responds, shrugging off his jacket, folding it and placing it on the head of the table. You had to make a conscious effort to not stare at the way his arms filled out his shirt, but damn it was hard. He sat silently waiting for you to talk.
“Ok..Bucky.. tell me about what size and what placement you want for this.” You say, “I printed some sizes out because I wasn’t sure what size you wanted, and I can reprint or adjust it based in what you want.”
“Oh you a real professional, huh? Not gonna lie to you doll, that serious voice is kinda getting me goin’” he says, smirk on his face, leaning back on his arms, lifting his hips and moving slightly on the table.
Fuck me, what is this man doing to me? He doesn’t give you a chance to respond before he’s talking again.
“I want to get it on my forearm, the inside, and I think that size looks good,” he says, pointing to the 10x8 you printed.
“Ok that sounds good, which arm were you thinking?”
Silence. He stares down at you, an unreadable look on his face. You break eye contact and then freeze.
Shit. Shit. You dumbass. Which arm? Which fucking arm? Are you kidding? I can literally see his metal fucking hand. Oh dear god.
The silence between you goes on for entirely too long. You’re not sure whether you should apologise or wait for him to speak first. You weren’t sure if he would be offended, having a reminder of his injury.
He doesn’t move, doesn’t speak, just continues to stare down at you, that blank look on his face. Looking back up at him, you start to apologise but the words get caught in your throat. His eyes. He couldn’t control them the same way he did his face, tons of different emotions flowing through them, none lasting long enough for you to understand before another one took its place.
If only you knew what he was actually thinking. She asked which arm. She knows about my arm, everyone does, but she still asked. She forgot. The arm is all people see, a weapon, an instrument used to inflict nothing but pain. It’s all people see, but she forgot. That’s not what she sees. Maybe…maybe she just sees me.
He’s shuts his racing thoughts down, fully aware of how awkward the silence was becoming. “I’m thinking my right arm might be a little easier for you doll,” he says, an amused look crossing his face, his tongue poking his cheek.
You open your mouth to apologise for your mistake but he holds up his right hand and says, “and please, you don’t have to apologise like I know you’re going to, we’re all good darlin’.”.
He’s gotta stop with the pet names before I melt.
“Ok, uh, are you sure, because I honestly meant no disrespect or anything. I-,” you start, but Bucky cut you off quickly.
“Darlin’, what did I just say?” A stern tone coats his words and goddamn does it send a shiver down your spine. You internally roll your eyes and look away, back to your station, when you feel two warm fingers on your jaw, turning your head back to looks at him. Holy fuck. He places his thumb on the other side of your jaw, forcing you to keep looking at him as he leans in closer. His voice was low when he said, “That wasn’t a rhetorical question, Y/N, what did I just say?”
Jesus fucking wept. Somehow his use of your name made your heart pound, and the fact that his hand was so warm and strong holding onto your face.
“You said we’re all good..” you answer trailing off at the end of your sentence. His eyes don’t move from yours for a second.
“And?” He asks, tilting his head slightly.
Christ alive.
“I don’t have to apologise..” you say, eyes flicking between his and falling to his lips for a second and then back to his eyes.
“That’s right darlin’,” his eyes dropped to your lips, his tongue darting out to wet his lip. “So stop, okay?” He says, lifting your chin to catch your eye.
“Yes sir.” It’s an automatic response but you can’t help but be a little proud of yourself when he lets out a small throaty growl at the name.
“Careful doll.” He responds, letting go and leaning back, “How about we get started before I do something you regret, hmm?”
Like I could regret you.
You turn back to your station to try and clear your head of all the dirty thoughts running wild. “Ok.. Bucky, if you could roll up your sleeve so I can wipe the area, I’ll place the stencil and you can check if it’s where you want it to be.” You say, not used to the name he said to call him by.
“Mhm,” he hums, releasing the cuff link on his right sleeve, his prosthetic catching the glare of the light above, the plates shining. He places the cuff link in the pocket of his jacket and begins rolling up his sleeve and folds it at his elbow.
You clean the area and place the stencil straight on his arm, and peel it off.
“There’s a mirror on the wall over there, you can check if it’s alright.” You say.
“Okie dokie doll,” he responded the furrowed his brows, like he was confused at why he said that, not very gangster of him.
I like him. He says okie dokie.
“Looks good there darlin’, and as much as I hate to say it, we gotta speed this up a little, I’m expecting a call at some point around 2:30 and I’d prefer you not have to hear it.” He says, coming back to the table, sitting down and swinging his legs up onto it.
You take his arm, putting it on the rest in a position easiest for tattooing while saying “Why’s that? Would you have to kill me if I overheard your call?” You ask, enough humor in your voice for him to know you’re joking.
“Probably, depends how much you hear.” He said, completely deadpan. He looks at you and you have the strangest feeling that he actually wouldn’t hurt you either way.
“Shit ok. Is that position comfortable for you?”
“I’m all good darlin’, let’s go,” he says, adjusting his position on the table slightly. His left arm rests across his stomach as he sits on the table, leaning against the backrest, his ankles crossed.
“Ok I’m gonna do a small line so you know how it feels,” you look at him and he nods. You draw a line about 2 centimetres long then stop, “how’s that?” You ask.
“Ain’t nothin’ doll, keep goin’.” He responds.
“Ok here we go.” You say, getting back to it.
————
You’ve been tattooing for about 40 minutes, and there hasn’t been a word spoken between the both of you. His arm kept flexing whenever you moved away, and he kept clenching his jaw, like he was in pain but was refusing to admit it, even to himself.
“Are you ok? We can stop for five if you want a break? I’ve just finished the outline so I’ve got to change needles anyway.” You ask, disrupting the silence between you, moving the machine away from his arm so you can switch to a higher grouping for the blackwork.
“I’m fine Y/N, how much longer do you think it’ll take?” He asks, moving his head to look at the outline that you had completed.
“Oh it’s hard to say, but probably another 30 at least,” you respond, looking at him while he was admiring the tattoo so far.
God he’s pretty.
“Shit.” He says, rubbing his forehead with his other hand.
“Are you worried about your call?” You ask calmly.
“Not worried about the call itself… just having to do it here may cause some issues.” He responds, lowering his hand to his thigh.
“Because I’m here? I can go to a different room if you want?” You say, placing the machine back on your station, and turning to look at him fully.
“It’s ok doll, to be honest with you, nothing that needs to be said will make any sense to you anyway, and I mean that in the least offensive way possible.” He says, looking at you with apologetic face, tilting his head slightly. “But depending on the news I get, I wouldn’t want my reaction to… scare you.”
“Oh.. well I guess we’ll see when your call comes.” You answer, unsure of how to react to that.
————
The sharp ringing of his phone interrupts the sounds of the machine. You move the machine away from him, turning it off so he could speak freely without noise.
“I really am sorry about this darlin’, but it’s important-”
“Answer it then, it’s fine Bucky.” You cut him off, concerned he was going to miss it if he kept talking.
He gave you another apologetic look, and then turned his back to you to get off the table and answer the call.
You sat in silence as he started to speak.
“Rogers, what did ya find?” His voice changes from how he speaks to you, deeper and more serious.
The person on the other line speaks for a moment before Bucky responds, “we already knew that, didn’t we? What new information did you find?”
Silence.
“Of course he is..,” there is anger in his tone now, “get someone to tell the asshole he can threaten what he likes, I’m not sitting down with him.”
A moment goes by and you think that may have been the end of it, until you see his shoulders tense and-
“FUCK NO!” He shouts, making you jump a little.
“No Rumlow Gets Nothing, I don’t give a shit what he’s doing… Then send the commissioner a goddam gift basket Steve, some portraits of his family would be nice, remind him why he pays us the fucking protection fee.” He seethes at the man down the phone.
This should not be turning me on, shit.
“For fucks sake… Walker is nothing Steve, just some fucking Nazi junkie with a rich daddy, trying to get his hands on my shit…get Nat to bring his ass in, I’ll deal with it Steve… I said I’d deal with it.”
His tone on the last sentence sends a shiver down your spine, what the fuck does ‘deal with it’ mean?
“Ah shit is he ok?” Bucky asks, tone soft now, caring even, “Damn, he’s gonna be out for blood now.. good for him.. give Clint the week off, find the guys and give the pricks to him, let him get out some of his pent up craziness out.”
Oh Clint sounds fun.
“Ok, alright I gotta go now man. Yeah I’m at the shop… nah it’s nothing..yeah ya did… ok fuck off now.. later man.”
He hangs up the phone, takes a death breath and pinches the place between his eyebrows, his other hand going to his hip. He stands like that before he turns back to you, with a small awkward smile. That was cute.
“Sorry about that doll, hope I didn’t upset ya,” he says, walking around the table and looking down at you.
“You didn’t. I gotta ask though, is your friend or whoever ok?” You ask, not bringing up the start of the call where the man in-front of you all but admitted to a multitude of crimes - blackmail, extortion, supplying drugs. He sounded different- genuine when he asked if the man was ok. It was sweet.
“Clint? Yeah no he’s fine, got jumped last night so he’s pissed about it, but he’s ok, worst thing he got were some nasty bruises and a broken finger.” Bucky responds, confusion on his face, wondering why you care.
“How did he break a finger?” you ask, moving backwards as he sits back on the table.
“Oh he didn’t go down without a fight, clocked one of them on his way out,” he says with a small chuckle.
“Ah, good for crazy Clint,” you say with a smile.
Bucky let’s out a sharp quick laugh, “that exactly what I thought doll,” he says, leaning back and putting his arm on the rest, “ready when you are.” He adds.
Ok right back to it. Got it boss.
“Ok, should only be about 10 more minutes.” You say.
“Alright doll.” He answers, leaning his head back on the rest, tilting his head so he could watch you.
Ten minutes later you were finished, putting your machine down for the final time.
“Okie dokie, I’m all done. Have a look in the mirror, see what ya think,” you say, hoping he liked it, not much you could do about it if he didn’t.
He moves over to the mirror, checking out his new ink, twisting his arm around to see it fully. He’s silent for a little while before he says, “fuck doll, you’re a damn artist.”
“Does that mean you like it?” You ask, failing to hide the hope in your voice.
“I love it. Couldn’t have asked for a better one for my first piece.” He says, walking forwards to stand in-front of you, letting you wrap the fresh tattoo, handing him a leaflet on aftercare as you talk.
“You’re shitting me,” you say, “was that seriously your first one?”
“Yeah, why are you so surprised darlin?” He responds, tilting his head.
“I don’t know, just sorta thought you’d have them all over.” You answer.
“All over, huh. You been thinking about me naked doll?” He says with a cheeky grin, talking half a step closer to you.
Shit.
“What, n-no of course not, why would I do that. I mean I’m sure you look good - uh fine.. naked but I don’t-” you cut yourself off before you embarrass yourself anymore.
“No, no ramble on Y/N please, I’m really enjoying watching you try to figure your way out of the grave you’re digging right now,” he says, chucking lightly.
“Shut up Bucky, leave me alone” you responds, looking down at your feet.
“Hey,” he grabs your chin, again, and add pressure until you’re looking up at his eyes, “don’t ever try and tell me what to do, darlin, I don’t tend to respond well to it. I won’t ‘shut up’ and I’ll never ‘leave you alone’… I like ya too much for that.” He says, sounding like a mix between a threat and a compliment.
“Uh.. okay.” You answer, not sure how to respond to his words.
He can tell that you don’t know what to say, so he mercifully breaks the silence. “I love the tattoo doll, it’s looks amazing. You’ve got a talent Y/N.” He drops his hand from your chin as he speaks.
“Thank you, Bucky. It means a lot.” You answer sincerely.
“How much do I owe you sweetheart?” He asks, reaching into his jacket for his wallet.
That’s a new one.
“Uh, say $180?” You respond.
“$180? Damn you gotta charge more than that doll,” he says pulling some bills from his wallet.
He hands you the bills and says “now that’s for today and it should cover next time too, take half for now and half for then.”
You’re stunned by the fact that he’s already planning for next time but your jaw actually drops when you look at the bills.
They were hundreds.
“Woah I think you gave me the wrong bills,” you say, trying to push the bills back in his hands.
“No I didn’t, I know what I gave you. $180 for today, say $200 for next time and the rest is tip.” He answers smoothly, folding your hand back over the bills.
You look down to count and start shaking your head, “I can’t accept this, it’s way too much.”
“Consider it a thank you for dealing with the inconvenience of me having to do business in the middle of the appointment.” He says with a smile.
“Bucky this is 2000 dollars.”
“I know.” He puts up his hand again, stopping you from talking, “I’m not taking it back doll, just have it will ya?” He says, rolling his sleeve back down, doing the cuff back up with the cufflink and placing his jacket back on.
“Oh my god, you’re serious aren’t you?” You ask, unbelievable he wanted you to have over fifteen hundred dollars as tip.
“Yes I am.” He answers, straightening his jacket, “it also may be a small bribe.”
There it is.
“A bribe for what?” You ask, expecting his to ask you to keep quiet about his call.
“I want you to be my artist, anytime I want a tattoo, I want you doing it for me.” He says, smiling down at you with a hint of…something him his eye.
“Really?” You ask in shock, not expecting that from him.
“Yeah, like I said earlier, you got talent. I want more of you on me.” Bucky says smirking at the euphemism he made.
Fuck me running.
“Oh..shit.. yeah ok, that sounds..,” you swallow heavily, “sounds like a plan.” You smile up at him, trying to hide the way his words affected you.
He smiles back, stepping closer and closer until his chest is almost touching yours.
“Yes it’s does. You’re mine now doll,” he says, a dark look in his eye. You swallow hard again and your breath stutters at his words, eyes going straight to the floor. He notices your reaction and smirks, “my artist, I mean.” He continued.
“Although, judging by your little reaction there, I’d bet you be ok with that, wouldn’t you doll?” He says, his tone slightly mocking.
You say nothing.
He hums, then places his right hand on your cheek and tilts your head so you’re looking him in the eye again.
“Would you?” He asks softly.
“Maybe,” you whisper, a cocky smile breaking out on his face.
“Maybe, huh? ‘Mkay, guess I’ll just have to convince you then doll.” He says back, leaning closer, eyes going to your lips before he looks back up, giving you a chance to get out of the situation.
“Guess so.” You respond, some confidence back in your voice.
He hums again, and then he’s kissing you. His kiss is forceful but somehow still gentle, like he’s holding back as much as he can.
Fucking finally you can’t help but think as you move your hand to his wrist, the other one going to his left bicep, the feel of the solid metal under your hand was new, but not unwelcome.
His metal hand moves, wrapping around your back and pulling you against him, deepening the kiss when you gasp.
Reluctantly, you break the kiss when you run out of air. He leans back, the pressure on your back relieving a bit.
“Damn doll, what the fuck are you doing to me?” He asks, biting his bottom lip.
“Something good, hopefully.” You respond cheekily.
He groans, leaning his head back. “Yeah hopefully darlin’. I hate to say it sweetheart but I gotta get going.” He says, releasing his hold on you. He moves towards the door and for a second you think he going to leave without another word, until he turns back and says “I’ll talk to you later doll, keep your phone on or I’ll drop by.” He finished his sentence with a wink, and then he’s gone, the bell on the door ringing behind him.
Fuucckk. Maybe I’ll break my phone so he has to come by. Who knew the fucking Winter Soldier was actually a gorgeous softie under it all.
————
A/N: Ta da! Finally complete!! Love everyone of you that read this, mwah 😘
I can’t tag anyone else on this post so I will tag the rest in a separate post.
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intrepidacious · 1 year
Text
almost believing
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summary: You and Bucky aren't exactly on speaking terms at the moment. That doesn't mean you're getting out of having to pretend to be married for a mission.
pairing: bucky barnes x f!reader
word count: 5.4k
warnings: miscommunication dialled up to eleven bc it's me; friends to lovers with lots of seething in between; set around christmas, but not a christmas fic; slight spoiler warning for wakanda forever just to be safe
please note that my blog is rated 18+. minors dni. ageless/empty blogs will be blocked without warning.
prompt: fake dating, baby 😌 title and initial inspiration for this fic were taken from "so close" from enchanted. yes. that scene.
a/n: this was written for my wonderful tiff's sweet as sugar writing challenge!! @traitorjoelite i'm so proud of you and i hope you enjoy this fic. i really thought this one would be short i swear. big shoutout and thank you to @sweetascanbee for listening to me rant about this for weeks, i appreciate you so much!!
masterlist | read on ao3
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Here’s the thing: It’s supposed to be a simple mission. Just gathering intel at the hotel for one single night, the two of you pretending that everything is fine for a couple of hours more.
After all, it’s Bucky’s last mission with you before his reassignment goes through.
Well, it’s not like it’s going to make a difference to how much you’re seeing him, to be honest.
You’re not sure when he started making himself rare or why, but once you noticed it, it was impossible not to.
"Sorry, I’m heading out," when you ask him to grab lunch together seems inconspicuous enough, as does, "Ah, I’m already supposed to meet Sam," when you try asking him about that trip to IKEA you’d been talking about for ages.
But it doesn’t stop there. One excuse follows the next, and suddenly there’s always something more important than the two of you hanging out.
Of course, you try to rationalize it at first. Swallow down your hurt feelings, because Bucky is your friend, and sometimes people just need space. You’re fine. The two of you are fine.
Once he starts scheduling dates for Friday night, though—which has always been movie night, always, every week since you met him—you know that something’s wrong.
"Is he angry with me?" you keep asking Steve, who looks very uncomfortable and definitely knows what's going on.
"Just give him a little space," he suggests timidly. So you do. You let the whole thing go.
For like a week.
"I just don’t know what I did," you tell Sam over drinks, your head held in your hands.
"Nope," he answers, downing his dregs. "I’m not doing this. Nuh-uh."
"You know, too?" you cry, accusingly pointing at him.
"I don’t know anything," Sam deadpans. And then he puts his scarf on and leaves.
"Maybe try talking to Bucky about it?" Natasha suggests, either incapable of hiding her amused smile or unwilling to try.
"I would if I ever saw him for longer than a 'hi, how are you' at the gym," you mumble. Fact is, you’re getting pissed about him giving you the silent treatment without even knowing what you did wrong.
Because before this, whatever this is, things were fine. Great, even. Free afternoons were spent on each other’s couches, introducing him to your favorite tv shows and letting him teach you that stupid card game he loves so damn much. You’d even been starting to imagine that there might be something …
Clearly, you were wrong.
Now, you can’t even look at him without your throat closing up. It’s like you woke up a few weeks ago and he’s become an entirely different person around you, much more like he was at the beginning of your friendship, distant and cold.
He didn’t even tell you that he’d signed up for a transfer.
The mission call feels like your last chance.
A whole evening of teamwork and espionage, of him basically having no other choice than talking to you and finally telling you why the fuck he would get himself reassigned without even telling you beforehand. You could’ve hugged Fury for the opportunity.
That is, until you’re handed the file containing your fake identities for the op a few hours before you’re supposed to leave.
"You’re joking," you say as soon as you open the door.
"Great, you’re here as well," Steve says dryly. "Again, a) you both gotta learn how to knock, b) the whole thing wasn’t my idea or my decision, but I also think it’s the best directive for what you’re trying to do, and c) no, there’s no one else available for the mission. Anything I missed?"
Bucky deliberately doesn’t meet your eye, his arms still crossed as he stares Steve down with a look you can’t decipher. He doesn’t even acknowledge you standing in the door, but his foot is doing the tapping thing again.
You purse your lips and join the staring.
Steve sighs, rubbing his temples with the palms of his hands. "Listen, you two work well together and I know these past few weeks have been … strained"—you almost laugh at that—"but it’s just one night."
"We need to pretend we’re married," you say. "How’re we going to pull that off if he can’t stand being in the same room as me?"
"I trust that there won’t be any issues." Steve raises an eyebrow at Bucky as he says that, but of course he doesn’t get a reply. That would necessitate talking in your presence.
"One night," Bucky repeats through gritted teeth.
Not for the first time, there seems to be some sort of silent conversation between the two of them that you’re not privy to. You roll your eyes.
"I’ll see you later."
You leave with your back straight and without a glance over your shoulder, the door slamming shut behind you.
For a moment, you’re tempted to barge into Natasha’s office next, but you have a feeling like she’d just give you another one of her looks again, which really won’t better your mood. So instead, you slam another door and flop onto your bed, blankly staring at the ceiling for a while.
Surely, there’s some twisted sort of irony in this whole situation, but you’re not laughing.
Usually, before a mission, you’d get bagels together from the bakery around the corner. You haven’t done that in a while, but you’re still quietly begging your phone to show a new unread message when you look at the time however long later.
Instead, there’s just your lockscreen picture of Bucky’s grinning face that you can’t bear to get rid off, no matter how many times it stings you. It’s almost a year old, now, back when you’d taken him to go do your holiday shopping with you, insisting that "no one’s gonna recognize you, look at that great cap you’re wearing".
It’d started snowing halfway through the afternoon, and he’d kept reaching for your hand in order not to lose you in the crowd. You both gave up halfway through your list and just went to get coffee instead, strolling through Central Park and talking about nothing and everything.
That’s when you’d realized you'd been falling in love with him, laughing and fingers freezing around your paper cup, a strange new warmth spreading throughout your body.
You need to change your lockscreen.
***
Half an hour before pick-up, you leave your room with a duffle bag slung over your shoulder and almost run into Bucky. He’s leaning against the opposite wall like he’s been waiting for you, and it stings because that’s what he always used to do, back when you were still talking. When you could still pretend that maybe, just maybe, your feelings weren’t quite so hopeless.
Now, though, his easy smile is missing. Instead, an ever-present frown is furrowing his brows again, his mouth opened just a little, but nothing comes out.
"Look, I don’t want to do this any more than you do," you sigh. "But it’s a two-person job."
He nods, his tongue poking his cheek. "I know."
"Do you think you’re gonna be alright with us pretending we’re madly in love for a whole evening?"
Bucky’s jaw tightens. "I’ll be fine."
Of course he’s going to be fine.
You grab the strap of your bag more tightly. "I wish you would just tell me what I did."
"You didn’t do anything." If he’s telling the truth, though, why does he look so numb?
For a moment, you want to shout at him, cry, beg, make him tell you when and how this went wrong, but you don’t. You just stare at him in silence, hoping he’ll get it anyway, and he refuses to notice it.
"So," Bucky finally says. "You ready to get hitched?"
There’s the ghost of a grin in his eyes, and even though it’s not enough to mask the uncomfortable tilt of his shoulders, you sigh. At least he’s trying, you suppose.
"Let’s just get fake-married so we can fake-divorce and go our separate ways," you say, walking past him.
"I’ve got something for you."
You turn around again, raising your eyebrows as he holds up a ring between the fingers of his left hand. There’s a giant stone set in its center, striking and sparkling and not subtle in the slightest. Tony really went all out for appearance’s sake. Your fingers involuntarily tighten around the strap of your bag.
Bucky drops the ring in the palm of your hand.
"Quite the present," you chuckle nervously. You don’t even want to know how much this thing costs, and you feel like they're going to chop off your head if something happens to it.
"Try it on, then."
It’s a bit too large on your finger, and it feels foreign. It’s not you at all. Then again, it’s not supposed to be you.
Before you can say anything, though, Bucky shakes his head. "What?" you say with a roll of your eyes.
"That couldn’t look more fake if you tried. Wait a sec."
He turns his back towards you and rummages through his bag for a while, his jaw still set as he holds out his hand once more. With a sigh, you pull the ring off again and return it, but before you can pull your hand back, he catches it in his own.
This one slides onto your finger perfectly, and your eyes widen at the sight of it. It’s a lot subtler, with only a small emerald for decoration, but it’s so delicate and beautiful it takes your breath away.
Bucky’s mouth opens and closes, but he swallows whatever came to his mind. "That’s better," he says instead, and his voice sounds oddly rough.
"They gave you a backup?" you say, angling your hand this way and that to see how the gem catches the light.
"Mhm."
Something is off about this whole situation, but then you feel like you don’t really know Bucky anymore. Not like you used to, anyway. It used to be so easy to get a read on him.
You stand there in silence for a moment, and it’s only then that both of you realize he’s still holding your hand. He drops it immediately, and you pretend it doesn’t sting.
"How come you don’t get a ring?" you ask.
"Says who?" Bucky says, clearing his throat and activating the camouflage sleeve Tony had installed for his arm. Sure enough, there’s a ring on his hand as well.
You grab his hand curiously. When you touch it, there’s no difference between his fingers and the pseudo-platinum band, all of it just cool vibranium in disguise.
"It’s fake," you say. "It’s not the same."
"No," he agrees and pulls his hand away. "Looks real enough, though."
You notice the red splotches on his neck and wonder what it is that you’ve said this time, but it’s pointless anyway. He’s not going to tell you even if you asked.
Maybe you should be used to him icing you out by now, but it still hurts.
***
"Yes, Steve, I know," you sigh. "We’re just gathering intel, nothing else."
"I just wanted to have you say it again so we’re all clear. You both love taking risks when it’s not necessary."
"Alright, punk, we got it," Bucky says, tugging at his tie again.
You can’t even blame him for the nervous habit; you’ve been twisting your fake wedding ring around your finger for the entire drive.
This isn’t the first time the two of you had to go undercover as a couple; hell, it’s not even the first time you’ve pretended to be married. Usually, though, you could have a laugh about the whole thing together.
Now you barely know how to act around Bucky as yourself, let alone as some made up woman.
"I think we’re going to attract a lot of attention if we don’t get out soon," you say, readjusting the collar of your blouse underneath your coat.
You notice Steve staring at your hand for a moment, a frown between his brows, but his lips curve upwards a split second later. "Ready to do this?" he asks and you smile a little in confirmation.
Bucky takes another breath and then he nods curtly. "Let’s go."
The change that goes through him as soon as the two of you climb out of the car is so stark you almost turn on your heels again and beg Steve to let you off the hook, after all. His hand sneaks around your waist and pulls you closely into his side as you walk towards the hotel, all soft smiles and charm.
"Sorry for the holdup," he tells the bellman waiting next to your bags with a wink. "The missus and I just needed another minute."
You lightly slap Bucky’s chest in fake indignation. It’s quick thinking on his part, really.
When you’re checking in under your assumed names for the evening, he keeps his arm around you, and the content look stays in his eyes. A subtle glance at your surroundings tells you some of your persons of interest have already arrived early for the event tonight, looking around the sparkling lobby with the same feigned boredom.
Bucky nudges your cheek with his nose and then smiles again when you look at him. It makes your brain shut off for a moment.
When he looks at you like this, it’s so easy to forget the past couple of months and just pretend for a moment. What if there was no mission at all, and it could simply be the two of you?
But of course, that’s not possible. All of it is fake, including the way he looks at you. You know that.
So how come it doesn’t feel fake to you at all?
***
You hate this dress, you hate these people, you hate this dinner, and most of all, you hate how much you enjoy spending this much time so physically close to Bucky.
It feels so natural when he links your hand with yours, so fucking meant to be, even though he’s just putting on a show for the band of creeps you’re tasked to keep an eye on.
But damn if he’s not good at it.
It’s amazing, really, how his eyes immediately soften when you turn your head towards him, like you’re the only person in the whole room. He looks at you during this charade like you wish he’d look at you daily, even far from prying eyes around you; especially then. It makes your breath shorten, your heart pounding erratically because it thinks it’s getting everything it’s ever hoped for.
Hearts are often stupid like that.
A full night of glances and touches and the pretence of secret whispers will do all kinds of twisted things to your feelings.
There’s a lull in the conversation, and when Bucky squeezes your hand you realize he’s no longer the only one who’s looking at you.
You chuckle nervously. "I’m sorry, I got … distracted for a moment. What were you saying?"
"Ah, newlyweds," one of the investor goons laughs. He’s a particularly vile looking man whose suit is way too big on his spindly limbs.
Bucky, academy award winning actor in another lifetime, chuckles politely while the fondness in his eyes seems to increase tenfold. "We’ve been married three years, actually," he says, sticking to your official cover story.
It’d been Tony’s idea to keep your fake timeline as close to the truth as possible to avoid any slip-ups. It’s a great move on paper, really, but in reality it just adds another nail to the coffin.
Three years ago, you were on a mission in Brussels, only the second one ever where it was just the two of you. It was mostly surveillance, so one of you usually had downtime while the other kept lookout. It became customary that you’d entertain each other during those long hours, getting to know each other intimately for the first time, taking the first tentative steps towards the friendship you now share.
That mission was the groundwork of your falling in love with him in the first place.
"You seem to be doing something right if you’re both still so enamoured with each other," Spindly Arms says.
"I’m the luckiest guy in the world," Bucky responds, still looking into your eyes. "It’s hard not to do the right thing, then."
He presses a kiss to your cheek and you smile timidly. His lips linger for just a moment, and then he moves to whisper into your ear, something you’re sure looks like sweet nothings to everybody else but is actually a, "Don’t fall asleep on me."
You tilt your head, shove him teasingly as if he’d said something inappropriate, and because he’s always been quick to catch on he winks, obvious enough so that the other people that are part of this conversation can clearly see it.
It’s not long after this that you excuse yourselves, walking around the room with apparent aimlessness. Everything is sparkling with pure gold decorations and countless little twinkling lights that have been scattered around the room like millions of fireflies. You spot an actual orchestra right underneath the massive Christmas tree.
"Kind of tacky, don’t you think?" Bucky murmurs with a sideway glance at you.
"Maybe a little," you say.
The truth is, though, the room looks oversaturated and expensive and magnificent. Something straight out of a Hallmark movie, more like a movie set than a real place.
It’s the one thing that keeps this whole thing from being completely unbearable.
He must have seen the truth in your eyes, because he ducks his head and says quietly, "I’m gonna go check out the terrace."
You just nod and smile as he kisses your cheek again and then vanishes through the crowd with a few long strides. Sighing, you take another drink from the tray a waiter offers you, absent-mindedly rubbing your cheek.
"What a lovely surprise," a voice says next to you and you freeze for a moment before forcing yourself to calmly take a sip. "Miss … Winter, was it?"
"Mrs," you say with a pleasant smile. "Good evening, Director."
"Right, of course." Director de Fontaine eyes her martini warily. "I don’t suppose these olives are fresh, do you?"
Your mind is racing. If she’s here on official business, then your entire operation might be compromised.
"So," she continues, looking rather bored. "Met any interesting people yet, Mrs Winter?"
"Oh, yes," you say lightly, clinging to your role of unassuming young wife. "It’s all rather exciting."
"I’m sure. These kinds of events are all very … shiny." She looks into your eyes and there’s an almost explicit warning written in hers. "It’s surprisingly easy to get blinded."
You swallow heavily even as she smiles. "If you’ll excuse me, I think I see someone …"
You quickly walk over to the buffet table where some of the wives have formed a semi circle of gossip, trying your best to hide your sigh of relief when the director doesn’t follow you.
For a few minutes, you lose yourself in pointless gossip, until one of the women takes hold of your forearm.
"You must tell us, what’s your secret?"
"Excuse me?" you chuckle nervously.
"Your husband!" she exclaims, earning a few nods from some of the others. "He clearly adores you," she goes on. "I don’t think he’s looked away from you once since you joined us."
You steal a look around your shoulder. She’s right. Bucky’s gaze immediately locks with yours, an almost bashful grin on his lips. You caught me, his eyes seem to say, and you feel a rush of heat go through you.
He should be nominated for an Oscar with this performance.
Quickly, you turn around again to meet several expectant pairs of eyes.
"I don’t know what to tell you," you say. "He’s just … always been like this. I mean, he’s my best friend. I really don’t know what I would do without him."
There’s not a word of a lie in what you’re saying, and it elicits a round of coos and murmurs even as your heart gives a sharp pang.
"Dance with me?"
You flinch, turning to look at Bucky’s outstretched hand, at the sad, hopeful look in his eyes, and the line between reality and fiction blurs a bit more.
You take his hand, and he pulls you onto the dance floor, some cheery Christmas song ramping up to its big finale. Then, the band switches to a slower song. To you, it sounds mournful.
"That was nice," Bucky mutters into your ear. "What you said."
"I meant it, you know," you whisper, but he turns, and you don’t think he’s heard you.
Bucky places his hand on your hip and you hide a shudder. His gloved fingers wrap around yours, and then you start moving again.
You barely know the steps, but he’s a great leader, and he doesn’t say anything when you step on his toes. In fact, his gaze softens even more when he looks at you after the third time, the hand around your waist pulling you a little closer.
"How are you doing this?" you say without stopping to smile.
"Easy," Bucky says, and the way he says it almost makes you believe it’s true.
You bite your lip, trying to stop yourself from breathing him in. "I didn’t mean the dancing."
With the last note of the song, you stumble over his foot again and he snorts. "Me neither."
The melody changes and neither of you lets go. His steps are getting slower, smaller, like he’s just trying to keep both of you in motion. Your head is spinning. The twinkling lights are starting to blur into a great mass of stars in the background, like you’re at the center of a music box and everything else is just background noise.
You wrap both hands around his neck as you’re swaying, then, your foreheads only inches apart. You could stay in this moment forever, you think, as it stretches into blissful infinity. Somewhere, a clock strikes ten.
Bucky leans in a little closer and your breath hitches again.
"It’s time," he whispers, and your eyes fly open.
You’d almost forgotten about the mission.
"Val is here," you say quietly.
His expression hardens for just a second. "What?"
"She came to talk to me earlier. She knows we’re here."
"Why didn’t you say something?"
"I … There wasn’t time."
"We’re just gonna have to be quick and discrete."
You open your mouth, but then you see the distance close in again between you two, and so you just nod.
The plan is almost laughably simple, but it’s probably going to work out just as you’ve laid out beforehand. Everyone in the room has watched the two of you staring at each other for the past couple of hours, so no one bats an eye when Bucky nudges you gently and you make your way up the stairs to the fancy elevator that’s going to take you up to a bedroom.
Or, more specifically, to a bedroom that’s being used to store all kinds of evidence, but no one else needs to know that little detail.
You notice the director talking to Spindly Arms and a couple of other people, but you force your gaze not to linger on her. Instead, you grab Bucky’s hand more tightly.
He lets go of you as soon as the elevator doors close behind the two of you, dragging a hand through his hair and messing it up. There aren’t any cameras in the elevator, but you’re both pretty sure there will be on the floor you’re going. "CIA exposure, that’s exactly what we needed."
"There was nothing I could’ve done," you say, tugging your sleeves down your shoulders.
"I’m not blaming you, sweetheart," Bucky says distractedly, loosening his tie. Your heart makes a very heavy thud. "But if Walker shows up tonight as well, I’m gonna shoot first and ask questions later."
"No, you won’t," you say with a grin, mostly because you know he didn’t bring his gun because the male attendees were all frisked at the entrance.
"Maybe I’ll throw a knife. I could say it was an accident."
The conversation lasts barely a moment, but it reminds you so much of what the two of you used to be, it hurts.
You follow him stumbling out of the elevator onto the right floor with a breathless laugh. There’s no one in sight as you subtly check the room numbers before making him follow you with a coquettish smile for the security camera.
You find the right door without much trubble, pulling the keycard out of your inconvenient little handbag. "Come on now," you murmur as the lock rejects it at the first try.
Suddenly, Bucky’s hand is on your waist again, and you gasp as he spins around. The keycard drops to the floor.
He presses you against the wall, effectively trapping you in his embrace. Your hands are laid flat against his chest, his heart thundering madly underneath your fingertips. Bucky’s eyes flit around madly, like he’s trying to come up with something on the spot and, for the first time since you’ve known him, is left without ideas.
You gasp as his nose brushes against yours.
"Sorry," he whispers hoarsely. And then he kisses you.
Your body responds immediately, lighting a fire in your core as his lips press against yours, hungry, gentle, almost apologetic. You can taste the champagne on his tongue.
You arch your back against him on instinct as his hands travel down your arms, brushing your hips, your tighs, slowly parting your dress at the slit. Your eyes fly open the moment you realize what he’s doing, even though he swallows your gasp.
In one smooth motion, he pulls the I.C.E.R. out of the garter on your thigh and fires a single, silenced shot. The guy with the earpiece barely has the time to grunt before he sacks against the opposite wall, unconscious, his hand still in the pocket of his jacket.
"Fuck," you hiss, pushing Bucky away from you. He stumbles slightly, the gun loose in his fingers. His eyes are almost black as he blinks at you. "You could have told me we’re being shadowed."
Bucky’s mouth is stained from your lipstick, and the sight of that alone makes your head swim. You can still feel the ghost of his hand on your leg.
"It’d have blown our cover," he replies, infuriatingly calm. "Hate me later, our window has just narrowed by a bit."
You swallow, blinking to try and gain control over your breath again, grabbing your gun back with a short nod. "Let’s finish this, then."
***
Back at the Compound, you both give an exhausted report about the events of the night, leaving out nothing but your improvised kiss on floor fifteen.
Your lips are still tingling with it.
Finally, you and Bucky are left alone in the briefing room, and for the first time in weeks, he doesn’t just get up and leave as soon as the silence takes hold. Instead, you both sit next to each other, staring straight ahead.
"I guess we should talk," he says slowly, reluctantly, and you can’t help it.
Your defenses shoot up again.
"I don’t know what you’re talking about," you say, squinting.
"Yes, you do." He’s lost the tie hours ago, but he keeps tugging at the fabric in his hands as if it could give him the words he’s looking for. "I shouldn’t have kissed you, not with … Not like that."
"Like you said, the guy would’ve blown our cover," you say, crossing your arms.
"Doesn’t make it right."
"What do you want me to say, Buck?" you say sharply. "That you should’ve talked to me before? Well, I’m kind of used to you not doing that anymore, so just forget it."
"Y/N—"
"No, really, it’s fine. Like I said, you’re leaving, anyway, so what does it matter. Didn’t tell me you were planning to do that, either. You just did it."
"You know why I’m leaving."
"No, I fucking don’t!" There are tears in your eyes now. "I have been trying really hard, Bucky, but you’ve just shut me out. I thought you needed space, which is fine, by the way, but you just—one day you decided you were done with me and that was it."
He stares at you incredulously. "You seriously don’t remember."
"Don’t remember what?!"
"That you were talking about me. To Natasha."
The memory rushes through you so violently it’s almost ridiculous you hadn’t thought about it in months.
You’d just come back from another undercover op, and you’d called her right as the door to your room had closed behind you because not for the first time, your feelings had threatened to spill over again.
"You should talk to him. Be honest."
"No, Nat, come on, I can’t—I can’t do that to him. I can’t risk … you know, he’s my best friend. And that’s all it can ever be. I don’t want to ruin what we have. I just wish he’d make it easier."
"You’re making excuses, you know. Both of you deserve a bit of happiness, don’t you think?"
"I tried," Bucky says now, barely looking at you. "I tried making it easier. But you’re so …"
"So what?" you ask hollowly, ignoring the fact that you can feel the tears starting to trickle down your cheeks now. "So pathetic? That’s what this is about, isn’t it? That’s why you asked for the transfer, so you can be rid of me."
"Rid of you?" Bucky starts, but you ignore him.
"You know what, Bucky, fuck you if you think my feelings for you are so much of an inconvenience that you need to leave the state. Silly me for thinking we could be adults about this."
"You’re the one who wouldn’t just tell me."
"Well, now you know anyway and I’m sure once you’re off to Cairo or wherever the fuck they’re going to send you, you can have a big old laugh about the stupid girl who fell in love with you despite the fact that—"
"Love?"
"I mean, obviously?!"
"You … you’re in love … with me?" There’s something very soft and vulnerable in Bucky’s eyes.
"Are we talking about two different phone calls?"
"I thought you hated me."
You huff incredulously. "Why would I hate you?"
"That’s why I gave you space, I thought … but then …" He grabs your hands. "Sweetheart, I’ve been in love with you for years."
It punches the air out of your lungs. "What?"
Bucky’s eyes are devastating as he looks at you, then. "I’m so sorry, I—I got it all wrong, I was just—I thought you know and you didn’t see me like that and that’s why I …"
"You …?" you say, still not quite comprehending what’s going on.
His thumb caresses your knuckles, halting when it makes contact with the ring you’re still wearing. "I'm in love with you," he says quietly.
"I don’t understand," you whisper.
"Please tell me I didn’t fuck this up completely."
This time, you’re the one to lean in.
Where your first kiss in the hallway had been feverish, this one is soft, almost unbelievably sweet, both of you still breathless with the fact that you’re allowed to do this. Finally, it feels like all the pieces are falling into place and you’re home again.
You press closer into him and Bucky smiles against your lips, pulling you in with his hands on your hips just like he did when you were dancing earlier.
The loudspeakers overhead crackle. "Alright, kids, we’re gonna break this up until you’re back in your own quarters, I don’t want to expose FRIDAY to the creation of your sex tape."
You break up with a snort.
"Fuck you, Tony," Bucky shouts, but he’s still smiling as wide as you’ve ever seen him do.
You giggle as you nudge your nose against his, curling your fingers into his hair. "That reminds me, you know."
"Of what?"
"Quick and discrete," you mumble, repeating his words from the hotel. "Title of your sex tape."
Bucky groans and shuts you up again.
(A few years later, you get the ring back.)
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happy holidays, y'all 💛 thank you for reading!! if you want to see more of my writing, check out my masterlist or follow @intrepidacious-fics for update notifications!!
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mrs-illyrian-baby · 2 months
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Good Girl | Bucky x Reader | Mutually Beneficial AU | Drabble
You don't listen to Sarge's instructions during a mission so he has to show you that you can be a good girl if you try.
Warnings: 18+ sexual content, dom!Bucky, dirty talk, pet names & honourifics, clothing dispartiy and leather kink.
Dividers by @firefly-graphics & @reveriesources
Masterlist | Bucky Barnes Masterlist | Mutually Beneficial Masterlist
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Bucky dragged you to the back of the plane, sliding the panel that separated the main sitting area from a small cargo hold at the back.
Sam had shouted that the both of you should behave, there was no worry about that. You'd behave now, the fire behind Bucky's eyes told you you'd behave for a long time after this as well.
"You could have died" he hissed, hauling you up onto the large container box. Even though he was looking up at you now, you still felt small. Stupid. Tears welled in your eyes as he continued to berate you, that you were an agent first, that you were supposed to follow orders because they keep you safe.
He looked up from his tirade to see the tears begin to roll and stepped forward, back into your space.
"Babydoll?" He dropped his voice, quiet now, and wary.
"I'm so sorry" you sobbed, letting the tears over flow and pour down your face "I'm so sorry, I wanna follow orders, I wanna be good, I thought-" you hiccuped "I thought you were in danger, I couldn't-" hiccup "bare it".
Strong hands cupped your face, brushing your tears away, his hands cold from his leather gloves.
"Oh, Babydoll, that's why?"
You nodded, voice failing you. Bucky wrapped you in his arms, pulling you close and burying his own face in your leather clad chest.
"I wanna be good" you whispered "I wanted to be good. I - I love you is all and I"
He looked up, pressing his thumb to your lips, salty and red from your tears.
"I love you too, Baby, I'm sorry. You are good, you are" he ran a hand over your hair.
"Even though I didn't follow your orders?"
"Even though you didn't follow my orders. I can't blame you, I'd have done the same thing" he murmured.
"Will you tell me I'm good again? I feel...bad" you flushed, trying to hide your embarrassed face in his neck.
"Yeah? You need to feel like my good girl again?" The words went straight through you like electricity.
"Yes, yes please, Sarge" you did your best innocent eyes, blinking slowly and biting his thumb, still resting against your mouth.
"Hmmm... okay" he narrowed his eyes but the low grin he was hiding gave him away "Let's get you out of this" he plucked at the leather jacket and polyester combat trousers you were wearing, a few knife cuts against the legs from your earlier tussel.
Bucky backed across the small hold to the thin bench against the wall of the plane as you stripped, patting his knee "c'mon then, Babydoll, c'mere like my good girl, my best girl"
On wobbly legs you walked across the space, you felt dizzy, sick like you'd been poisoned by your own lust. Falling into his lap he spread your legs over his own, knees widening until your body hovered between you.
He pulled you down by your tag, holding you still while he kissed you, biting at your bottom lip and pulling away enough to look you in the eye.
"That's my Babydoll" he slid a leather clad hand across your wet folds, the cold material drawing stark attention to his tight black attire and your complete lack of clothing. The thought made you gush, fresh slick coating the leather as he pushed two fingers in "What a good girl, all wet for me."
He leaned forward making you clutch at his jacket for balance "think you could get wetter"
You moaned a response, you're sure you could, the question was more whether you'd survive it.
His fingers stilled, your hips winding in response, trying to find purchase, friction, something. Bucky chuckled darkly, biting the lobe of your ear until you cried out. His other hand shot up, covering your mouth. Without his support you dug your hands deeper into his clothes, feet barely touching the floor as your legs dangled over his thighs.
"Hush, Baby" you quietly moaned against his mouth, moving your hips again "I know what you need, my desperate girl can't wait any longer, can you" you shook your head, trying to stay quiet "and you want to be a good girl for your Sergeant, right?" You nodded "then you'll fuck yourself" you moaned again, his hand tightening over your lips "quietly! Or not at all. Can you do that?" You nodded. His hand moved away "tell me"
"I can do that, Sarge"
"Do what"
"Fuck myself, Sarge" you were so deeply ashamed of how much you needed this, but God, he was right, you were wetter, your arousal dripping on the floor.
"How?"
"On your fingers, Sarge" his deep chuckle was back.
"Good girl, yes, but I was looking for quietly"
"Yes, yes quietly, Sarge, I'll be quiet, I'll be good, Sarge, promise, so good"
He brought his legs a little closer together, your toes just touching the floor and giving you enough leverage to bounce on his hand.
"Then show me"
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espinosaurusrexex · 1 year
Note
pls do the “who did this to you” i just imagine and college!bucky x reader and they cant stand each other but share an apartment. reader comes back hurt, bucky sees it and becomes protective.
I think I wrote this before any other request, I loved it so much! Hopefully you do too 💕
"Who did this to you?" (Bingo Game)
!BINGO ASKS CLOSED!
College!Roommate!BuckyBarnes x Reader
word count: 1.4k
warnings: mentions of abuse, grumpy Bucky, angsty, sassy reader, fluff
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You tried to blink the tears away as you roamed through your purse. There was really no need to cry at this moment, but you couldn’t help it. You were fucking shaken from what had just happened. 
A curse rolled over your lips when your shaky hands missed the lock on your apartment door a second time. Stupid hands. And the dumb tears in your eyes didn't help you see what you were doing either. You just wanted to get inside, hide away in your room and avoid all of humanity for a solid week. And you wanted it to happen fast. Because you knew the conversation pending about two doors from this one and you dreaded it. 
It was shameful enough you came home crying from a date at this hour, you didn’t need a lecture on top of it. But Bucky had told you. He had told you that all men were dicks and that nothing good could come out of a drunken number jot down at a sports bar at 2 am. But you didn’t listen. You never listened to Bucky. Hell, you tolerated him on a good day, so you most certainly wouldn’t take advice from him. 
And that’s why you went out with that idiot poser boy John, really just to prove Bucky wrong. But, shit, it bruised your ego to admit he had been right this time. Not that you planned on telling him that. 
Fuck, no. 
Because all your roommate would do is give you an ‘I told you so’ when you really needed a good hug and a tequila girls' night. But that wouldn’t happen. He would never let you live down the worst date in history. 
First, that dickhead had tried to order you a salad and then he pretended to have forgotten his wallet and then, after you had brought him home, he had really thought the date had gone good enough to expect more than a fucking smack in the face. And after you had politely tried to tell him to fuck off, that asshole really tried to force himself on you. Luckily, his roommate had put an end to it before anything more could have happened, but it was enough to shake you to your core. 
An annoyed groan echoed through the door before it unlocked and revealed a shirtless Bucky beyond the threshold. He was staring at you broodily as you scrambled to get your key back into your purse and push past him but his disheveled hair and gray sweats made you halt for a second. 
“What happened?” If you weren’t so scattered, you would have never thought to see his eyes slightly soften at the sight of you. Bucky would never, though. It was just your shocked mind playing tricks on you. 
“Sorry for waking you,” you grumbled as you pushed past him, but Bucky blocked your way immediately. 
“What’s your problem?” You snapped as you stared up at him. But he didn’t say a thing. “That’s what I thought,” you whispered to yourself when you pushed at his chest to clear the way.
But Bucky was fast to snatch your wrist. A painful scream escaped your lips as you yanked your arm back, holding it securely to your chest while trying to fight the tears brimming again.
Fucking tears. You didn’t want to cry. 
His eyes quintet smaller before he closed the front door with a thud, while simultaneously reaching out to pull your hand back towards him - gentler this time. He pushed up your sleeve to reveal a swollen wrist beneath the cotton. Fuck, that looked worse than it felt. You hissed when his gaze caught yours again. 
“What happened?” His voice was less angry suddenly - insistent and calm, somehow.
You pulled your hand back a second time. “Just forget it, okay?” Not the lecture. Not now. 
But Bucky was fucking persistent. God, he was annoying. “Y/N. Who did this to you?”
You wanted to just leave but the tone of his voice let a shiver run down your spine. He was staring at you with those damn eyes again and now you really couldn’t stop the tears from falling anymore. It was too much. Too frustrating, too embarrassing.
“You were right okay?!” It broke out of you, your arm flailing in the air. “Are you happy? John Walker is a fucking asshole just like you said. Now leave me alone.”
You turned to the hallway, your sleeve wiping at your eyes while you heard Bucky follow you through the darkened room. “Not happening.”
“What?” You turned back angrily. You were so ready to just punch him right about now. Why couldn’t he just leave you be? It was bad enough as it was. 
“I’ll get you some ice.”
“Bucky-”
“No. Just shut up for once and let me at least try to apologize for my species.” He grumbled and you snorted in disbelief. What was wrong with him? 
Bucky just stared at you again, and you couldn’t shake the feeling he was waiting for your permission. As if he had ever wanted permission for doing anything. But when he didn’t move for another second you got serious again. “Sorry.”
With a silent nod, he disappears into the kitchen and you went about your bedtime routine. When you entered your room, freshly showered and in your pajamas, Bucky looked up at you. He was sitting on the edge of the bed with a bag of frozen peas wrapped in a towel, and he was wearing a shirt now too.
Shame, you thought, and immediately scolded yourself for it.
The shower had helped calm you down a little, but now that he was gently pushing the ice back to your wrist, your heart began to race again. The night had been fucking traumatic so far. And having your annoying wouldn’t-touch-you-with-a-six-foot-pole roommate be nice to you for once was terrifying. But at the same time, you felt as though you got to see a side of Bucky today he rarely showed to anyone. And, as much as you hated to admit it, it was nice to not fight with or ignore him for once. 
Another then minutes passed of you just sitting in silence, your mind racing with memories of the night and Bucky staring against the wall for the majority of it. You didn’t want to think about what would have happened had Lemar not intervened his dickhead roommate’s plan. But you couldn’t stop. It was all that occupied your mind and it made a whole new wave of anxiety wash over you. 
You were so deep in your nightmares, you hadn’t even noticed Bucky get up.
“Are you going to be okay?” He asked with his hand on the doorframe. 
You just spared him a quick glance and mumbled a hasty ‘I’ll be fine’ before you moved to lay down and roll on your side, facing your back to the door and Bucky. 
“Are you sure?”
You didn’t answer. You didn’t want to tell him the truth. That you were terrified of being alone right now. That you would sleep way better if John Walker had gotten a knee in his balls and a restraining order. But you somehow couldn’t bring yourself to lie to him either. So you just stayed silent, your arms hugging your body as a slow tear ran down to your pillow. 
For a while, it was quiet, and you really needed to control your breathing, your muscles tense as you lay there. Hoping - wishing - for this to be over soon. But then you heard Bucky shuffle a few feet away from you and soon, your mattress dipped. 
A small but relieved smile snuck on your lips when you felt him carefully inch closer to you. You just lifted your blanket in response until Bucky was snugly pressed against you. His arm wrapped around you and you could feel him relax when your hand covered his. 
It was unusual but it felt so nice to be held.
Your breathing evened out with every second and after some time, a steady rhythm had settled within you. You actually relaxed against Bucky’s chest, his face resting in the crook of your neck - you were drifting off to sleep slowly, calmly.
But before you entirely tapped out, Bucky whispered into the darkness, a gruff annoyance in his tone. “If he ever tries something again, you tell me. I’ll make sure he’ll stay the fuck away from you.”
But it warmed you all the more. You wouldn’t take his kindness for granted, though. It meant a lot to you. “Thank you,” you sleepily mumbled as your head buried deeper in your pillow.
You saw Bucky’s frown before your eyes when his face pressed back into your skin. Funny how relationships shifted sometimes.
as always, reblogs and comments are so so so appreciated 🥰 check here for a morning after drabble
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beanthesprout · 9 months
Text
Needy
Sub!Bucky Barnes x fem reader
Summary: Seeing you in that sexy dress at Tony's party simultaneously made it more enjoyable and utterly unbearable.
Warnings: fingering, riding, praise kink, a tad of degradation mixed in there, little bit of fluff at the very end
Bucky was listening to Steve talk to one of Tony's business associates when you walked in. His eyes had been on the entrance he knew you'd come in through since he arrived, and when he saw Nat come in he knew you weren't too far behind.
You hated these parties just as much as he did, but Nat and Wanda adored having an opportunity to dress you up and make you feel hot. Eyes were always on the three of you at these things.
He knew you were going to look good. Scratch that. He knew you were going to look great. However, he wasn't expecting you to come in wearing that sleek black dress with the neckline that plunged so deep it made your tits look fucking amazing. And he certainly wasn't expecting to see the sweet skin of your thigh peeking out from the slit in the dress that ended just under your panty line. And he wasn't expecting the elegant hairdo that allowed a few stray locks to temptingly brush against your neck and shoulder.
The moment Bucky saw you he knew he was absolutely fucked. He felt himself swallow as he watched you make your way towards him with the other two girls. His grip on his glass tightened as he saw a sweet smile spread across your features when you looked at him.
He couldn't decide if he wanted you on your knees in front of him with his cock in your mouth or if he wanted you on top of him as he desperately fucked up into you. All he knew was that one way or another he wanted his dick inside of you.
Your hands came to wrap around his arm when you got to his side, greeting Steve with a warm smile. Bucky didn't even notice Nat and Wanda sharing a knowing look as he was too busy staring at you, lips parted in awe.
You looked up at him and said something. Bucky blinked, processing that you'd said something.
"What?"
"I asked how you were." You tilted your head slightly, a habit he found adorable.
"Fine." He said quickly.
You raised a brow.
"I'm fine." He reassured you.
Your eyes searched his for a moment before nodding, head turning back to engage in whatever conversation Nat and Wanda were having with Steve and that other man.
Minutes seemed to pass by like hours and hours seemed to pass like days as Bucky frustratedly waited for this stupid party to be over. He wasn't sure if this was his own personal heaven, being able to see you like this, or if it was his own personal hell considering he couldn't do anything about it.
The entire night his gaze was on you, his friends quickly giving up on trying to include him in the conversation. Bucky didn't even notice the people cycling past. All he could focus on was your hands on his arm, the way your chest moved as you laughed, and the way your hair brushed against the skin he so desperately wanted to kiss.
The party's end couldn't come soon enough. Once you'd deemed that it was a polite time to leave, you bid your friends a goodnight and led Bucky out of the ballroom and up to his room. The moment you were in the elevator Bucky had you up against the wall.
One hand on your ass and the other on your waist as his mouth hungrily sucked bruises into your neck, a thigh had pushed its way between your legs and was pressed against your cunt. You gasped when Bucky bit down on that sensitive spot on your neck, and you began to grind against his thigh.
All too soon the elevator doors opened to your floor, Bucky pulled back and grabbed your hand, dragging you to his room. As soon as the door shut you were pressed against it, Buckys mouth now on the parts of your boobs that were shown by the dress.
You moaned as he sucked harshly on your skin.
"I've never seen you this desperate before, Buck."
"Need you. Need you so bad." He groaned as your hands came to gently tug at his hair.
"Then let me take care of you baby." You murmured, gently pushing him off and to the edge of his bed.
"Strip." You ordered. And Bucky couldn't move fast enough, desperately sloughing off his clothes so that he was left naked before you, dick standing at attention.
"Sit."
Bucky quickly sat on his bed, eyes glued to you.
Slowly you began to remove your dress, pulling down the straps on your shoulders before allowing the whole thing to fall at your feet. You stood in front of Bucky in nothing but a pair of lacy black panties. You watched as his jaw clenched and his hands gripped the edge of the bed. You slowly removed your panties and dropped them on the floor, his eyes watching every movement.
You moved towards him, straddling his thighs. Your hands glided up his chest to his shoulders as you leaned in and kissed him deeply, tongue sliding into his mouth.
You pulled back after a moment.
"Finger me Buck. Prep me for that beautiful fat cock of yours." You whispered.
Bucky swallowed, lifting his metal hand from where it rested on your thigh to slip into your wet heat. You groaned as he did, the cold metal a pleasant sensation. He pumped his finger in you, swiftly adding another and he began to scissor you, stretching you out. You moaned as he did, his thick fingers feeling so good against the walls of you cunt.
But it would be nothing compared to the stretch and drag of his dick.
Soon enough, Bucky deemed you ready to take him. He pulled his fingers out of you and shoved them into his mouth, moaning at the taste of you.
"You ready Bucky?"
"Yes. Please."
You pressed a kiss to his lips before lining yourself up and slowly sinking down on him. Bucky let out a groan, hands gripping your waist. You were sure there would be bruises tomorrow, but you certainly didn't mind.
You sunk all the way down, bottoming out. You nipped at Buckys jaw as he panted slightly, the feeling of you around him like this always left him breathless.
"I'm gonna fuck you stupid James." You murmured before rising up and swiftly dropping yourself back down onto his cock, drawing out a moan from him.
And fuck him stupid you did, you rode him fast and hard. You watched as he tossed his head back, entirely focused on the feeling of you riding him mercilessly.
"Such a slut for me aren't you James? You're just desperate to have your cock stuffed inside of me baby."
Bucky moaned an agreement as his hips started to thrust up into you.
"Such a good boy letting me fuck you like this baby," You moaned as his dick hit that sweet spot, "Such a good boy."
Buckys cock dragged against your walls, your pussy eagerly clenching around him.
It didn't take long for Bucky to reach his climax. The combination of your sweet praises and your pussy deliciously choking his cock had him feeling like he was in heaven. His thrusts up into you began to grow sloppy before he released inside of you. You kept riding him until tears pricked his eyes with overstimulation.
"Too much doll. Too much." He whimpered.
"Be a good little slut and let me finish." You groaned out, desperately fucking yourself on him. His face came forward to hide in your neck, mouthing at your skin as he moaned and whimpered.
Finally, you came. Your own cum dripping out along with his as you pulled up off of him. His arms wrapped around your waist as he hugged you.
"So beautiful." He murmured.
You chuckled, "You like the dress that much huh?"
"Mhm."
"I'll keep that in mind love."
After a few minutes Bucky laid you down on the bed and went to retrieve a cloth to clean you up and start a bath for you two to sit in together.
That night you cuddled up into his chest, draped in one of his shirts. He held you tight and pressed a kiss to your forehead before falling asleep.
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crushedbyhyperbole · 1 year
Text
Flash Bang
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Pairing:  Bucky x Reader
Summary:  How to win an argument with Bucky Barnes?  Flash your tits, of course.
Words: 1.2k
A/N:  Just an idea that amused me enough to end up on my fic inspiration list.  I wrote it as part of my Suncatcher set (a series on AO3 but here on Tumblr the fics are not grouped together).  Reader is empowered and part of the Avengers.  All fics in this set are set after CA:CW and I completely ignore the existence of Infinity War and End Game.
Warnings:  Smut, some angst, arguing, moody Bucky
***18+ content - minors do not read or interact***
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Bucky is raging.  You can tell by his deep scowl, irritated nasal sighs, and the repeated twitch of the muscles in his cheeks as he grits his teeth repeatedly, clenching and unclenching his jaw.  He won’t even look at you when you try to talk to him – he listens but doesn’t respond.  Even dazzling him with your beautiful light refractions hasn’t worked.
It’s stupid, you think, the argument you had yesterday that saw him sleeping (or not, possibly) on the sofa, and followed you both into today.  You haven’t even gone on the mission yet and he’s already acting like a petulant child.  It’s funny, in a way.  You’re usually the one who flips your shit, and Bucky is the one who calms you down. He’s the big chill to your little chaos, except where your safety is concerned.
“Can we talk about this? Please?”  You stand next to him while he impatiently waits for the coffee to finish pouring from the machine.  You can tell he feels trapped, torn between the coffee he wants and avoiding a discussion with you.  “Bucky?”
He huffs out another nasal sigh.  He heard you but is still not prepared to interact.
“Ok, I’ll just talk.” You say, jumping up to sit on the counter next to the coffee machine.
Bucky drums his fingers on the counter in yet another display of frustration.
“I’m an Avenger, same as you.”  You have said this to him about twenty times since yesterday but you say it again because it’s the truth.  “I get drafted for missions, same as you.  I go on missions with you, I go on missions without you.  This mission is just another mission without you.”  You reach for him, attempting to lay your hand on his shoulder but he flexes away, making it clear that he doesn’t want to be touched.
“Not the same.”  He grunts and you feel like this is a victory. They’re the first words he’s said to you since last night when he actually told you that he forbade you to go on this mission.  Like he fucking owned you or something.  Of course you had seen red and it had turned into an all-out argument.
“How is it not?”
Another nasal huff. “You’ll be alone.”
“And?  You do it all the time.”
“That’s different.”
“How?  Because you’re a man?”
“No!”  He turns to you and fixes you with a withering gaze.  “Romanov goes on solo missions.  It’s not about your sex, it’s about your experience.”
“How am I supposed to get solo mission experience if I don’t go on solo missions?”  All the while you spoke, you tried to keep your tone even. Now that he was communicating, you didn’t want to piss him off again.
“I offered to go with you, and to hang back.  As backup. It was a compromise.  You said no.”
“Do you not trust me?”
“Of course I do.”
“Doesn’t seem like it.”
“What I don’t trust is my luck.”
“What’s your luck go to do with it?”
“Doesn’t matter.”
The machine had finished pouring.  Bucky scooped up his cup and took a sip as he stared you down.
“So you’re going to keep acting like this until I’m back from the mission safe and sound?”
“Not even then.”
“You want me to give in say that I won’t do it?”
“That’s about the size of it, yeah.”  He started to leave the kitchen, announcing the end to the discussion.  But you weren’t done, and you had an idea.
“I love you.”  You grinned, fumbling with your top as he walked away from you
“I love you too, which is why I won’t budge on this.”  In the doorway, he pauses and turns.  “What are you doing? Oh-”
Bucky’s eyes go wide and his mouth falls open as he takes you in.  Your top and bra are pulled under your breasts so you could flash him, nipples peaked and firm.
“Really?  You’re gonna do me like that, huh?”  He can’t hide his smirk.
“Do you like what?” You cup your breasts and jiggle them for him, biting your lip as he moves towards you.  “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
When Bucky lunges for you, you shriek with laughter as you try to tuck your breasts away and jump down from the counter, but he catches you by the wrists and spreads your arms, baring your breasts to him fully.
“Don’t try to hide them now.”  He looks hungry, eyes darkening in the best way possible.  “I see what you’re doing.”
“But you’re falling for it.” You grin.
“You’re evil, you know that, right?”  He lifts your wrists and releases them onto his shoulders as he slots himself between your parted knees and fondles your exposed breasts.
“I do.”  You look at him from under your fluttering lashes as he leans in for a kiss.
It starts slow but within seconds he is moaning into your mouth as he tries to devour you.  All of the hurt and frustration pours out of him as passion as he paws at your hips to bring you flush against his arousal.  He doesn’t even try to pull your leggings down, he just tears a hole in them right at the crotch, making your gasp.
He fumbles his fly but frees himself successfully and sinks into you without warning, bottoming out with a groan.  He rests his forehead against yours, cupping your face to keep you with him as he starts thrusting, repeatedly burying himself in you to the hilt.
You both have tears in your eyes as you climb the dizzy heights of pleasure and it’s him who closes his eyes first if only for a moment, blinking the tears away before he grits his teeth and pounds you harder.  When you come he lets himself go, his last few thrusts sloppy and punctuated with soft grunts.
You cling to each other in the aftermath and when he meets your gaze again it’s full of love and sorrow.
“I can’t lose you,” he says.
“You won’t.”
“You can’t guarantee that,” he brushes some stray hairs from your forehead, “it would be just my luck that the best thing to ever happen to me would be taken away because I didn’t fight hard enough to protect it.”
“Bucky…”
He rolls his eyes and steps back, his softening cock slipping from you, leaving you empty. “Go on the mission,” he sniffs, “but if it goes wrong that’s the last solo mission you do, so help me god, I’ll be going with you even if it’s in a fucking convent.”
You don’t say thank you because you don’t need his permission, but it makes things a hell of a lot easier that he’s not going to keep giving you the cold shoulder.  “Will you go over the mission brief with me, just to make sure?” You wanted to reassure him in any way you could that you were prepared.
“Sure.”
You grin and go to tuck your breasts away.
“Leave them,” he says with a cheeky glint in his eye, “I’m not done with you yet.”
You squeal with laughter as he picks you up, wrapping your legs around his waist and carries you to the bedroom.  You’ve got a day’s worth of tension and arguing to fuck out of each other, and Bucky is eager to get down to business.
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myfictionaldreams · 1 year
Text
Day 3: Double Penetration - Steve/Bucky
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Kinktober Day 3: Double Pentration -  Steve/Bucky x f!reader
Tags: 18+ readers only, smut, hatefucking, threesome, nicknames, size difference, choking, lots of swearing, discussion of masturbation, oral (m and f receiving), multiple orgasms, piv sex, anal sex, anal fingering, cum swallowing no use of y/n
my main masterlist 📚 // kinktober masterlist😈 // AO3 Link 
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You couldn’t get away from them quick enough, feet aching with each stomp as you exited the quinjet into the Avengers tower.
Tony was waiting at the entryway, “good mission then?” he smirked, having already listened to the argument on the comms between you and the two assholes and Tony being a smug prick rushed to welcome you back to the building. He had also been the other option to go on the mission but nope, you had to draw the short straw and endure the suffering of the two super soldiers.
It wasn’t like you attended these missions in a foul mood, prepared to argue, you were always keen to follow the instructions given by Fury. However, like usual, the two men had nearly caused you to be compromised thanks to Steve’s superiority complex, putting himself directly into the middle of the action instead of following the stealth instructions. This meant that you spent more time fighting off people than trying to save the captors and by the time you were aiding them out of the hell hole they were being kept in, you were shattered and bruised. Especially as you were not able to heal as quickly as the other two, it wasn’t as simple as having a drink and walking it off before continuing with the action.
This led to a shouting match on the journey home, with Bucky backing up Steve’s actions leaving you 2 vs 1 as per usual. You were fed up following them around, nearly getting killed AGAIN because of their stupid decisions, you weren’t going to let them get away with it for much longer.
Dropping your bag onto the floor beside Tony, you huffed irritated, “I’m never going on another mission with those assholes ever again Stark, keep them out of my way”. Your feet couldn’t walk you quick enough as you rushed to the tower elevator, not stopping to listen to whatever shit Steve and Bucky had to say, relief easing your muscles as the doors finally closed and you were alone.
It was hours later when you were finally in bed, having showered, applied cream to the forming bruises on your arms and legs and had some shitty film on in the background.
Just as your eyes were dropping with exhaustion, did a firm knock sound at your door. Your heart plummeted in your chest, not having any energy to have a discussion with anyone right now.  “Yes? What do you want?” you asked dryly.
No one answered which only caused you to roll your eyes and release another exasperated sigh as you heaved your body from the bed, once again stomping to show your displeasure and hastily swinging the door open.
“Oh for fucks sake, what do you both want? I thought we agreed to debrief tomorrow?” Stood before you were the two men you least wanted to see in the world. Gone were their expensive superhero suits and instead replaced with matching grey SHIELD t-shirts that hug their muscles, along with some dark grey joggers, hair slightly damp from recent showers.
Bucky was the one to respond, chuckling deeply and rolling his shoulders to relieve the tension and displaying his obvious annoyance. “It’s not the debrief Doll, that’s not why we’re here”.
Moving your weight from one foot to another, folding your arms sternly across your chest as you moved, glancing between the two men you replied, “well, what the fuck do you want, I was just about to get some well-deserved sleep”.
Steve now inched forward, standing to his full height, making your neck strain back further to look him in the eye, “let us in, this isn’t a conversation for the corridor”.
For some reason his words sent a panic through your thoughts, he never spoke to you in that calm tone, maybe something had truly gone wrong in the mission and needed discussing.
Contemplating it for a moment and glancing behind you to check your room and to see it in an organised manner, you moved to the side, holding the door open further for them both to enter.
Steve and Bucky stepped in and you noticed the way both of their eyes flicked to every inch of your room, assessing it, even this pissed you off, it was your safe space they should stop being so nosey but you refrained from sighing again as you shut the door, turning to face them, leaning into the wood.
“Well? What is it then?”
Neither answered immediately, both still walking around the room slowly.
Bucky spoke first, but not about why he was here, “I didn’t have you as a book reader” he mumbled, hand skimming over the book you’d left open at your desk.
This time you couldn’t hold back the sigh and rolling of your eyes for what felt like the 100th time that day, “so you’ve come to my room to talk about books?”
Steve turned to you now, pointing in your direction, “there you go again, sighing like being in our presence really is some horrific burden”.
“I mean it is, I’ve not exactly kept this a secret, Rogers” you retorted, walking further into the room.
Bucky shook his head in a condescending manner. “You’ve got a real mouth on you, you know that Doll?” 
Snapping your head towards Bucky you couldn’t help the aggressive tone as you snapped, “I’ve asked you to stop calling me Doll, I’m not one of your stupid dames from the 1920s”.
Neither men responded, instead, they looked towards one another, still wandering slowly around the room before Steve settled on the edge of the bed, a sight you never thought you would see and one that you weren’t sure how to feel about, it sent a sort of thrill through you but you shook it off as he began talking.
“You know, Stark mentioned something to us after you stomped off like a child”.
You scoffed, “fuck off Rogers-”
“Let me finish. He mentioned something that we initially shrugged off, in fact, it sort of repulsed us at first but the more we thought about it, the more it started to make sense”.
Steve left you pondering on his statement, “well? What did Stark suggest?”
You watched as Steve stood, taking strong steps towards you, distracting you from Bucky as he too stepped closer from behind. It wasn’t until they stood only a step away that you became a little apprehensive, neck once again straining to look up at the blonde.
“He suggested that we all needed a god, hard, fuck to get over whatever tension there is between us”.
You laughed. Hard. Like really belly laughed until tears were dripping from the corner of your eyes. You had also expected both of them to laugh as well at the ridiculous notion that had been presented to you but they both were watching you with hard expressions. “Wait, you aren’t joking? You can’t be fucking serious, do you really think I want to touch either of you? What a joke.”
Bucky’s cool metal hand was quick as he cupped your throat, cutting off your laughter, his grip hard enough to have you struggling against him but still be able to suck in small breaths. “What the fuck are you doing Barnes?”
Steve began tutting, “No, here’s the thing, you are going to listen to us for once”, he raised his hand to grip your cheeks so that your mouth smushed together so you reached up to hold onto his thick wrist, hoping to ease the grip he had but of course, he didn’t budge. It also didn’t help the situation that you were dressed for bed in only an oversized t-shirt and underwear.
“You have been a pain in our sides since you joined the team, but, we won’t take away that you are an asset on these missions but that doesn’t explain the reason as to why you decided to fight us tooth and nail with every single fucking thing that we do”.
Steve took a breath to calm himself before continuing, “now when Stark said his stupid idea we both brushed him off, but then we thought about it more and more. The way the tension was always thick in the air when the three of us are together, the way my cock twitches in the shower when I think about you in that uniform of yours. We all clearly just need to get things off of our chest or at least…get each other off”.
His lips smirked up as you contemplated this. But surely they couldn’t be serious right? This had to be some big practical joke… but then again, you couldn’t deny the initial attraction that you had when you’d first seen them. I mean, who wouldn’t be attracted to Captain fucking America and the Winter Soldier? They were tall, handsome, incredibly strong, you couldn’t help the schoolgirl crush the first time you’d been introduced to them.
However, after spending more time with them and seeing their arrogance and self-righteousness attitude, you’d ignored that impulse that had struck through you. So no, there was no way that you were actually contemplating this, he had to be making this up.
You were about to try and shove him off again but as your eyes dropped low, you could see the very prominent and remarkably sizeable shape that had formed in his joggers, maybe that serum did more than grow them in height and strength.
Steve caught you staring at his erection, glancing wickedly up to Bucky behind you as he stepped closer, both of their bodies now touching yours so that you could now feel Bucky’s firm rod being prodded into your lower back.
Ok so they were both definitely into this and your mind was racing, images flashing through your mind as to the potential of whatever it was that they were asking for, and your body betrayed your strong willpower as arousal hummed through and in between your legs, causing you to rub your thighs together to ease the tension.
The blonde noticed, his eyes lowering to watch before glazing back towards your face with half-lidded eyes, his pupils widely dilated with arousal.
Pushing on his wrist that was still firmly gripping your cheeks, he let go as you tried to speak with confidence, “fine, if we do this, it doesn’t mean that I’ll stop hating you guys because I still fucking do, but I’ll do whatever it is that you want to do”.
Steve didn’t seem convinced, “not quite what we were hoping to hear. It’s not just what we want to do, I need you to say it’s what you want as well, otherwise, we’re walking straight out of here and not returning and you can continue to think about us whilst in the shower, rubbing between your legs, shouting our names like our super soldier serum can’t hear between floors at just what you do after a mission”.
Your cheeks were burning hot, it had only been a few occasions that you’d done this, you just felt so wound up that you needed to relieve the tension and they both just happened to be the first people you thought of whilst masturbating.
“Fine Rogers, I want this ok? So hurry up and fuck me so I can kick you both out of my room”.
Steve chuckled darkly, squaring his shoulders as he looked above your head towards Bucky and gave a quick nod in his direction.
Bucky’s metal arm finally released your neck, allowing you to take a deep breath in for only a second before you were having his hands grip your thighs, lifting you up until you were folded up against Bucky’s chest, legs now spread in his grip. Scared that you might fall, you reached behind to grip the back of Bucky's head, pulling on his shoulder-length hair.
Steve took a step back, admiring the view before him, and without wasting another moment, he gripped your underwear in two places and effortlessly ripped them in half, chucking the offending material somewhere over his shoulder, now leaving you completely exposed to him.
“Even though you are the fucking bane of my life, I’ve always wanted to do this”, his voice was dark and gruff as he spoke, face inching forward before finally pouncing onto your moistening cunt. Your shout for euphoria made your ears ring from the volume but you couldn’t help it as he didn’t hold back at all, eating you out like a man starved.
His tongue delved deep between your folds, making sure not to miss a single nerve ending, spending specific time to push it into your eager hole, loving how he knew the exact spot to flick his tongue to have your head falling back against Bucky’s shoulder. He then spent time concentrating on your clit, kneading it with his tongue, rotating in circles, sucking it into his mouth, everything so deliciously pleasurably that you were pulling Bucky’s hair harsher, shout out as it all came crashing down, the waves of pleasure pulsing through you.
Steve released your clit slowly, looking up at you with hungry eyes as you tried to regain your breathing, the man definitely knew what he was doing with his tongue that's for sure. Tapping on Bucky’s head, he understand that you wanted to be put down, slowly easing you to your feet.
“My turn”, you seductively whispered, dropping to your knees, ignoring the pinch of pain from the bruises that were on your knees from the mission as you looked up expectedly, mouth wide open and ready.
Both men eased their cocks out of their joggers, leaving the material halfway down their delicious thighs, hands tossing themselves off as they down at you.
“You don’t understand how long I’ve wanted to see you on your knees like this” Bucky explained as he directed you to his cock, pointing it in your face. You were mesmerised by the sheer size of them both, thick and long, it had your mouth watering and also cunt pulsing in anticipation.
Reaching forward you gripped the base of Bucky, making sure to hold his eye contact as you licked along the underside of his cock, wetting it before sucking on his tip and enjoying the way he sucked in a breath at the sensation.
You were only able to take half of his cock to the back of your throat before you were gagging, so you made sure to bob your head, hollowing your cheeks as you moved up, enjoying the salty taste of him. Reaching out with your hand, you gripped onto Steve’s cock, not wanting him to feel lonely as you were able to suck off Bucky and toss off Steve at the same time, loving the sensation of having two of the world's biggest heroes in front of you, falling apart as you used your body.
As tears started to form in your eyes due to gagging over Bucky’s length, you pulled off and started to suck Steve’s cock, alternating between both men’s cock with your mouth or hand. The duo were groaning, hands on the back of your head to hold you there causing strings of saliva to dribble down your chin, mixing with the tears that were flowing down your face from the stimulations
As you tried to take Steve as far as you could into your mouth, the other hand gripping onto Bucky’s member so that it tensed, Steve finally tapped your cheek. Pulling off him, he signalled for you to stand but your knees were wobbly from being in that position so he effectively picked you up, your legs wrapped around his waist as he carried you to the bed.
He placed you in the centre of your unmade bed, pulling off his clothes to match Bucky who had already stripped off. As they stood there watching you lean up on your forearms to inspect their every move, Steve asked, “who do you want first, me or Bucky?”
Smirking up at them, you responded, “why do I have to only pick one when I could have you both”. With that you turned on the bed, lying face first and lifted your arse into the air, presenting yourself to the two of them.
Bucky whistled at the sight, “you really think you can take us both?”
“Oh I know I can take you both, now hurry up and fuck me already”.
Bucky chuckled, “always so demanding Doll”, he knelt on the edge of the bed, pulling your leg back causing you to slide and then turning you so you were once more on your back. Looking down at you with an eyebrow raised he asked in a deepened voice, “What? Not going to chastise me for calling you Doll?”
Scoffing you refrained from rolling your eyes, “there's no way I’m having a go at you right now, not when you stand in the way of providing me with orgasms, Barnes”.
“Hmm”, he leaned over you, forearms resting on either side of your head, his mouth close to yours that you thought he might kiss you but he didn’t, instead he shifted his hips closer. “See, I think you secretly love that name, shall we test that theory?”
“What are you-”
Your words became caught in your throat as he began thrusting into your cunt, slowly and tentatively as to not hurt you, doing a good job at really stretching you out, feeling as if you were nearly at your max already but he kept going and going until finally he brushed against your cervix.
“Fuck” you cursed loudly, eyes rolling back now for a completely different reaction as he allowed your time to adjust until finally, his voice snapped you out of the blissful state.
“So how are you feeling… Doll?” Your pussy squeezed around his cock at the nickname, revealing another one of your well-kept secrets that you did, in fact, enjoy him calling you that name.
Bucky’s face was alight with amusement, loving that he had discovered this about you, “I had the suspicion that the name was turning you on, is that why you so desperately fought us to not call you that, was it because you were becoming aroused?”
“Fuck you, Barnes”.
“Actually, I think it’s more fuck you, Doll” he eased his cock out before sliding back in again. Bucky’s hips snapped into yours, starting off slow before building momentum, your cunt clinging to his cock desperately with each thrust.
It turned you on further to think that Steve was standing just beside Bucky watching you being fucked and with the hyperstimulation of his girthy cock and the fact that this was even happening, your orgasm came on quickly and suddenly. You only just had time to warn Barnes that you were cuming, hands grabbing onto his back as your cunt convulsed around him, squeezing him thoroughly.
Not giving you any time to come down from your high, the brunette whilst still balls deep, turned you both over so he was now underneath and you were now lying on his chest. Tiredly, you looked over your shoulder, smiling as Steve climbed onto the bed and remained behind you.
“Come on then Rogers, let’s see what you’ve got to offer”. Steve smirked at your taunting, reaching to your lips to press his fingers against them, hoping you would open them which you did, and sucked on them, coating the two digits with plenty of spit.
Pulling them out, he aimed them towards your puckered hole, easing one finger in at a time, making sure to thoroughly stretch you out, and adding three more fingers until he was satisfied that you would be able to take him without hurting yourself.
All the while Bucky had remained sheathed in your cunt, still thick and hard, you guessed that this had something to do with the serum that he could stay like this for so long. Without any further waiting, Steve’s cock brushed against your asshole, his warm tip taking its time to tease before being eased in. You felt your body trying to tense at being stretched from the second hole but you willed it to relax, and inch by inch disappeared into your hole.
Just as you felt like you were going to explode from fulness, he stopped, breathing heavily himself. “You’re so fucking tight” he muttered between breaths. The sensation was extremely intense, all of your vulnerable nerves were being touched in both the front and the back.
Steve’s hand fell into your hair once he had composed himself, pulling back harshly, effectively lifting you up from Bucky’s chest so that you had to lean your hands on his pecks whilst his hands rested against your breasts, which were still covered in your oversized shirt.
As Steve began to move, making sure to work with Bucky’s movements, you couldn’t believe how incredible pleasuring it felt, it was almost too much as each graze of someone's cock had you twitching to cum. 
It was an endless cycle of smacking hips together, orgasming hard and then them continuing. You weren't even sure how many times your pussy had convulsed around them both but by this point you had more dribble leaking down your chin and your mind was filled with white noise. The boys noticed that you seemed to be nearing your end and willed themselves to stop holding back their own orgasms.
“Fuck I’m going to cum” Steve stuttered first, pulling out at the same time as Bucky and man-handling you onto your back on the bed. You couldn’t even feel your legs, you had been well and truly fucked as the two super soldiers knelt over your face, tossing themselves off vigorously.
Noticing their plan, in your deliriously fucked out brain you managed to open your mouth and stick your tongue out in preparation for their cum. Steve was the first to shoot his load into your mouth, not missing a single drop as you eagerly licked your lips to make sure his salty goodness was drunk. Bucky followed him soon after, also cuming in your mouth but having to catch a drip with his thumb, pushing his white seed back into your mouth which you eagerly suck and drank down.
Closing your eyes, you were completely exhausted, only just being able to hear the boys beginning to redress themselves. Smiling to yourself, you managed to croak out, voice laced with tiredness, “could you both kindly fuck off and close the door behind you”.
Both of them chuckled as they exited without another word, leaving you to sleep peacefully.
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WYD 1
Warnings: non/dubcon and other dark elements. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.
Summary: A fan makes an offer your can't refuse.
(based on suggestion he's been overworking himself for weeks if not months. He knows he needs a break but his work is too important. Maybe what he needs is someone to take care of him so he can focus more on work. from @thezombieprostitute)
Characters: Bucky Barnes
My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.
As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging.
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You can’t help but grin as you scroll through the comments. There aren’t many but those that are there give you that rush of adrenaline. More so, the interaction is great for your wallet.
As a faceless creator, your interaction is limited. You prefer the smaller community. Your might not be the most lucrative account on OnlyFans but it pays your rent, just about.
It’s the only secret you’ve ever had in your life and it’s a big one. You don’t think anyone would believe it. Not you. Not the librarian’s assistant on part-time salary in her corduroys and stuffy oversized cardigans.
It wasn't exactly an opportunity you were fond of, more of a last resort. You don’t fantasize about the men on the other side of the screen, as flattering as they can be. They have a similar sort of desperation, but the crux of it is somewhat more pitiful.
It’s the private message waiting for you that surprises you. That alone is behind a paywall, a feature many users forego when they’re only there for the quick wank. You shudder at the thought, often avoiding that reality of your side hustle.
You’re nervous to check but alone in the stacks, with not much else to do, your curiosity gets the best of you. You tap the icon and bring up the chat from BB. No profile pic, no info, just a message.
‘Are you interested in a private arrangement? 5k/week guaranteed.’
Great, a scam. You roll your eyes and close the app. Stupid. But why would someone pay for content just to try to con you. It’s a pretty big gamble.
You tuck away your phone and sigh, pacing up and down the aisle. The soft flutter of pages and stagnant silence. It’s so dull, you’d rather deal with anything else for the minimum wage and uncertain hours. Still, the freedom lets you tend to your other business.
A few minutes later, out of habit, you bring out your phone again. You linger in the blindspot of the cameras and unlock it. The app pops up as you left it. Another message.
‘Don’t leave me on read.’
The demand startles you. You should just block but you know that it’s money in your pocket. You’re not gullible, more greedy.
‘5k? Okay, sure.’
You press send and hide your phone behind your back and wander on. Your insides squirm. You’re not stupid enough to believe it. You look again at the end of the next shelf.
‘If you want more, we can negotiate. We’d have to meet to do that.’
You scoff aloud and quickly look around. There’s no one there to be disturbed. You evasively sit at one of the desk and hide behind the wooden cubicle that encloses it.
‘I’m not stupid’, you reply.
‘No, but you’re gorgeous. Pick the place. Let’s talk.’
‘Good luck finding whatever you’re looking for but it’s not with me,’ you type, skin razed and speckly.
‘I mean it.’
‘You’re not real. Your 5k is less real. Save your money and stop messaging.’
You wait, watching the screen. Your ears prick as you listen to the lull of the forgotten library. You can hear a cart rolling a few aisles back. You can’t get caught on your phone again.
A new notification blips up in the app before you can black the screen. ‘BB sent a tip’. You click it without thinking and bring up the tip; $1,000. A thousand? A message pops down and you quickly flick the chat back over the screen.
‘Believe me now?’ He challenges.
You take a breath and lock your phone, tucking it up your sleeve as you stand and turn down an aisle, passing the approaching cart as you refuse to look at the employee behind it. You go to the catalogue computer and pretend to tidy the little paper slips and pencils. You wait until the wheels squeak onward.
You slide your phone out and press your fingertip against the censor. The screen opens and the next message taunts you.
‘Give me a place and time’.
You hesitate and peek around, paranoid that others could read your mind just by looking at you.
‘Send a pic. Then I’ll meet,’ you counter.
‘You first, doll. Face for a face.’
You don’t like this and yet, you’re messaging.
‘After you,’ you insist.
No answer. You shake your head and put your phone back under your cuff. You carry on and head up the stairs to the next level. When you look at your phone again, there’s a response waiting for you.
A man with bright blue eyes and a sculpted jawline. Handsome, almost breathtakingly so. Your surprise is undergirded by your insecurity. Well, might as well send your own and let him change his mind. You scroll through your miniscule collection of selfies that don’t make you cringe and send one off.
You can’t look away as you wait. You know what’s coming. Rejection. Finally…
‘Place, time. Make sure to buy yourself something nice.”
You stare at his answer, dumbfounded. Are you really going to do this?
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The GED
Pairing - Grumpy!Bucky Barnes x Sunshine!Reader Summary - There's more than one way to be smart. Or so you've been told. But how on Earth do you go about proving that you're not (the stupid, illiterate Avenger) dumb?
Anon's 1K Celebration | The GED Series List
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"Can you please just listen to me?" Sam begs you. "I'm telling you this is a bad idea."
"Or it's an amazing idea and it'll all be for the better!" you counter, plating the last of your freshly baked chocolate chip cookies.
He snatches a cookie from the plate when he thinks you're not watching, "Or you'll make an already strained relationship like ten times worse."
You glare at him, snatching the cookie back and placing it back on the plate, "Or by then end of the day we'll have a new set of friends."
Bucky groans, entering the room just in time to hear your rebuttal to Sam's negativity, "Please, not more friends. I don't like the ones I have as it is."
"See?" Sam wildly gestures to Bucky. "When do we ever agree on anything? It just proves that this is a terrible idea!"
"Hi," Bucky finally greets you, gently pecking your lips. "Missed you. Now, who exactly are we trying to make friends with?"
"The SHIELD agents downstairs," you blithely reply.
Bucky quirks an eyebrow at you, "Why? They hate us."
"That's exactly what I said!" Sam frantically exclaims.
"Have we ever asked ourselves why they hate us?" you muse. "Maybe we need to be a little nicer to them."
"Or maybe it's because they're bitter and jealous that we're better than them," Sam remarks.
"Well, it's definitely not because of Sam's incredible sense of humility," Bucky sarcastically retorts.
"Shut up," Sam snarks. "And we are better. Our stats are better, we get first pick of assignments, our mission times are like a third of theirs, Fury trusts us a hell of a lot more, and we get all the good snacks."
"And that means we can't be friends?" you rhetorically ask. "We work together all the time!"
"Listen, it's not that bad of a deal," Bucky tries to convince you. "They tolerate us. We tolerate them. It's never caused a problem on missions or anything, so who cares? Not everyone in this world is going to like you."
"Who else doesn't like me?" you frantically question, quirking an eyebrow at Bucky.
"Everyone likes you," Bucky assures you.
"Except the people downstairs," Sam teases.
"That's it!" You throw your hands up in frustration. "I'm going down there. I'm just going to bring these cookies down there and talk to them. They're just people, I'm sure they're all really nice!"
"Nice going," Bucky mutters to Sam, elbowing him in the ribs. "Come on, can't we just leave well enough alone? Isn't it enough that the people who actually know you like you? And not to mention, I like you and I don't like anybody."
"Aww.." you coo at Bucky, caressing his cheek. "Nope, too late, I'm committed."
"Why?" Sam groans. "You're never going to get everyone in the world to like you!"
"Oh, yes, I can! I've spend my entire time out in the world cultivating a personality that's impossible not to like just to satisfy my compulsive people pleasing tendencies."
Bucky's eyebrows furrow as a teasing smile pulls at the corner of his mouth, "People really don't see this side of you enough."
Sam nods, "You're a little scary when you think people don't like you."
"Scary or strangely endearing?" you wonder.
"Scary! Definitely scary!"
Bucky sighs to himself, pinching the bridge of his nose, "You're not going to leave this alone, are you?"
You beam at the two of them, scooping up the plate of cookies, "Not even a little bit."
"It's a bad idea!" Sam bellows down the corridor as you walk away from him.
You roll your eyes as you step onto the elevator and tell Friday to take you to the third floor, where the SHIELD agents typically hung out.
It wasn't a bad idea. It was a great idea. What could go wrong with trying to bring people closer together? They were just people. They were people you had to trust with your lives, why not get to know them a little bit more?
As you step off the elevator, you immediately notice that this layout is almost identical to the one upstairs, except without all the extravagant touches of Tony Stark. You amble down the hallway, looking for a sign of anyone. You figure if the layout is the same, their common room will be in the same place as the one upstairs. 
You're right, you realize when you start to hear faint voices from where you thought their common room would be. Even all the way down the hall, voices echo off the walls as you make your way closer.
You certainly don't mean to eavesdrop or listen into a conversation that you're not supposed to hear.
No, you definitely don't mean to eavesdrop on your new friends, but the open floor plan does nothing to dampen the sounds of their booming voices. 
"Yeah, I leave first thing tomorrow," an unfamiliar voice sighs.
"Who with?" someone else asks.
You don't like the way they spit Bucky's name out in disgust, "Barnes."
"Oh, he's the worst!" the same voice dramatically groans. You silently scoff at the insinuation that Bucky was the worst. "He just sits and stares like he's got nothing better to do."
"Please, I'd take him over his girlfriend any day," a different female scoffs.
You freeze at the mention of yourself. You know you should go. You shouldn't be listening to this. The things they were saying were definitely not nice, but neither was eavesdropping.
"Oh come on, she's not that bad."
You sigh in relief, feeling a little better that someone was defending you. You could go upstairs and tell Sam that he was wrong, not all the SHIELD agents were that bad.
And in the next second, you were proved very, very wrong.
"She's just such an idiot!" Your stomach twists in knots as the same SHIELD agent continues complaining about you. This is what you got for eavesdropping, you tell yourself. They're entitled to their own opinions about you. Better yet, you could change their minds and show them that there was more to you than what meets the eye. You just don't want to believe that people can be this mean, that it's so easy for them to be this casually cruel. They just didn't know you. You were sure that if they did know you all, they wouldn't be saying such awful things. "I don't know what everyone sees in her, but I swear I can see right through that whole Sunshine act."
"I dunno, she acted like that on the last mission I had with her."
"She didn't let up? Not once?"
"Nope! The whole time."
"I'd rather get caught by the bad guys then deal with her for a whole week."
"Who knows, maybe Barnes likes them dumb," the agent giggles. The words feel like a punch to the gut. You want to leave, to turn on your heels and pretend like you never heard a thing, but you're frozen in shock. "Like a Stepford Wife thing."
"If that's true, then they'll be together forever," the same agent, the one going on a mission with Bucky tomorrow, jokes. 
"What do you think they even talk about?"
"Who knows?"
"My question is what kind of adult makes it knowing as little as she does?"
"The kind with Fury in their back pocket."
"Exactly! It's the only reason she's even apart of the team. I'd bet anything she's never even picked up a book."
"Can I tell you guys something?" an agent exclaims. "Someone got into a bunch of their files upstairs. And guess what? She can't even read! She's illiterate! An illiterate Avenger!"
Your blood runs cold. Those were private. They held so much intimate information about you and your history and they were using it to make fun of you, make fun of the people that chose to love you.
You weren't sure what was worse, that they were using your past to make fun of you, or that they knew intimate details of your past, they knew the torment you were put through as a child and they still thought it was funny, they still used it as a way to belittle you. As though you had any control over it. As though it was your fault.
It's only then that you realize that tears are staining your cheeks, that you're still standing in the hallway with a plate of cookies as a peace offering for the SHIELD agents making fun of you and your friends. 
"Probably doesn't even know what a book is. Maybe her next mission should be a day of kindergarten."
It's mean. It's meaner than they have any right to be, but a lightbulb goes off in your head as you finally regain the ability to leave.
You furiously wiped away your tears, storming down the corridor and back to your side of the Compound. You leave the plate of pastries on the counter for your team mates.
And you made a decision right then and there. You wouldn't cry. You wouldn't try to convince them that you were smart. You would just do better. Be better. You were going to show them that you could be more than the illiterate Avenger. 
In that very moment, you decide your very next mission: School.
AnonymityIsFun Masterlist Grumpy Sunshine Series Anon's 1K Celebration
As always, let me know what you think! Reblogs and comments are always appreciated! 💛
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queen-of-the-avengers · 8 months
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Explosion of Love
Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Female!Reader
Word Count: ~1.6k
Warnings: stepping on a mine, thinking you're gonna die, thinking the love of your life is gonna die, angst, fluff at the end
Summary: Fury has you and the team going through a minefield to look for lost data the Soviets left behind. Your scanners pick up most of the mines, but luck has it that you step on the most dangerous one of all.
Squares Filled: explosion (2020) for @star-spangled-bingo
Author’s Note: I realize that landmines explode as soon as someone makes contact with them, HOWEVER, this is my story and it's fiction so I get to make the rules and I say only when the pressure is relieved do they explode like in the movies.
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Miles of wasteland stand before you, acres of land that are charred from the explosions that happened between the Soviets and US Intelligence. The Soviets stole data with the intention of selling it to assassins and killers, so Fury tasked your team to go collect that stolen data. When the Soviets knew the Us was closing in on them, they scattered the data across acres knowing it would take them forever to try and retrieve it.
You’re about to step foot onto the charred land when Bucky stops you.
“Look at this.” He points to a sign a few yards away. “This is a minefield. Be careful. I don’t really wanna clean bits and pieces of the team.”
“Should we turn back?” you ask. “We only have technology scanners for the area. We can grab mine scanners.”
“No, we’re already here. Just be careful. Our scanners should be able to detect them.”
“Easy for you to say. You can fly,” you joke with Tony.
The land is so large that you have to split up on your own. Tony’s right, the scanners you have are able to detect most of the mines. Some of them are hidden so you’re not going to touch those areas if you don’t know if there is a landmine or not. Everyone is connected with earpieces so you can communicate if something is wrong, so you’re just listening to the casual conversation some are having as if you’re taking a walk in the park instead of through a deadly minefield.
“Are you and Laura finally taking that vacation you’ve been talking about?” Natasha asks.
“Yeah. Cooper is old enough to watch the other two. I was thinking of taking her up north.”
“I think she’d like that.”
You scan the ground as you walk slowly and find one of the boxes buried containing data. You kneel and dig the box up before plugging your flash drive into the data box. Once it’s done downloading, you take it out and continue to search for other data boxes. Your scanner is picking up most of the landmines but there is one patch of land that is coming up blank.
Stupid you walks right over it thinking it’s safe. You step onto fresh soil and hear something click from below you. You pause and look down to see what you stepped on. It’s buried underneath the ground but you can definitely feel something under your foot. Since this place is so big, there is no one around you to help you. No one knows you’ve stepped on one. No one knows you need help.
Your first instinct is to run like hell and hope you can survive, but you’ll only have a second before the mine goes off. Tears start rolling down your cheeks at the thought of dying. You’re still young, you still want to see the world, get married to the love of your life, and live life to the fullest with him by your side.
“Hey, guys?” you sniffle and wipe your tears even though more fall. “I’m in trouble here.”
“What’s going on?” Bucky asks in concern.
“I stepped on a mine.” Everyone becomes alert. Your body shakes in fear and your voice cracks under the pressure. “What do I do?”
“I’m on my way. Don’t move,” Bucky says. Only Bucky comes to your aid because he doesn’t want to put anyone else at risk of stepping on a mine. Bucky can see just how terrified you are when he gets to you. “Doll, you’re gonna be okay. Don’t worry, I got you.”
“I don’t want to die,” you cry.
“You’re not gonna die. I promise I won’t let that happen. Take some deep breaths for me, Doll.” The first and second ones are shaky but the third and fourth ones are much smoother. “Good girl. You’re doing great. Keep doing that. I’m gonna dig the mine out so I can see what we’re dealing with. This won’t explode. I’m just digging around it.”
“Okay,” you sigh shakily.
Bucky gets on his knees and uses his knife to dig out the soil around the mine. Tony, Rhodey, and Sam fly over to see how bad the situation is while the rest of the Avengers make their way back to the start of the minefield.
“What’s going on here? What do you see?” Sam asks Bucky.
Bucky digs out enough soil to see exactly the kind of mind you stepped on.
“It’s a bounding mine.”
“Shit,” Sam sighs.
“What does that mean?” you panic.
“Nothing--”
“Don’t bullshit me, Bucky. What does that mean?”
“It’s a more deadly mine than the others. It shoots the main propeller about four feet into the air, and metal shards fly out of it over the span of six hundred feet. It’s very deadly.”
“Can you disable it?” Steve asks over comm.
“No.”
“Oh, God,” you cry and cover your mouth. You take two deep breaths to calm yourself down. “Bucky, get the hell out of here.”
“Like hell, I’m leaving you.”
“Bucky, please,” you whimper and take his hand. He stands to his full height in front of you. “I don’t want to die but I don’t want you to die more. You need to get out of here. There’s no use for this mine to take both of us out. Tony, get him the hell out of here.”
Tony is about to take Bucky when your boyfriend holds up a hand to stop him.
“Wait. Can I at least get a kiss goodbye?”
Instead of giving him a verbal answer, you pull him close and kiss him like it’s gonna be your last. He slides his hand into your hair and grips it gently so he can control the kiss. He kisses you in a way that makes your head dizzy. The kind of kiss that makes you forget about everything but the feel of his lips.
If he’s gonna kiss you one more time, may as well make it memorable. You pull away from him and open your eyes to study the shade of blue in his. You expect him to pull away and leave your side but you frown when he doesn’t. You look down to see him standing on top of the mine and you are free. He must have switched positions with you while kissing you.
“No, what did you do?” you gasp.
“I promised you I wouldn’t let you die.”
“No, I’m not letting you do this!”
“Tony, get her out of here.”
As soon as Tony’s hands are on you, you’re fighting him.
“No! Bucky!” Tony grips you tightly and flies off with you in his arms. The image of Bucky gets smaller and smaller until you can’t see him anymore. As soon as Tony sets you down, you’re running toward Bucky. Steve jumps into action and practically tackles you to the ground. “No! Let me go! Please! Bucky!!!”
“Y/N, stop fighting.”
“No! You gotta let me go. I have to be with him!” Suddenly, an explosion happens and you sob loudly. “NO! Bucky!!”
You fall to the ground in a fit of sobs at the loss of your boyfriend. Steve’s arms are still wrapped around your body to prevent you from going after him. As soon as one explosion happened, another one followed suit, and another one, and another one. The air is covered with thick smoke that is very hard to see through so you’re not sure if Bucky is even alive.
Everyone is silent for their fallen friend. The only thing that can be heard is your heartbreaking sobs.
“Look, I see something,” Clint points out something in the smoke.
You look up and see something emerging from the smoke. Once the smoke clears, you can see Bucky walking toward the group with his vibranium arm in his flesh hand.
“Did you really think I was gonna let a mine take me from my girl?” he coughs.
The spikes on his body open to welcome his arm and he locks it into place. He whips his arm around to make sure it’s on properly, and you scramble out of Steve’s arms. You run into Bucky’s arms and cry against his chest. You’re too overwhelmed to say anything but hug, kiss, and embrace him. When you’ve calmed down, you pull away from him and slap him in the chest.
“Never do that again!”
“I had no choice. I knew I could have survived but you wouldn’t have.”
“You could have at least told me that!”
“I didn’t know if it was gonna work or not,” he says quietly.
Everyone got what they needed from the minefield, so you head back to the Compound. You haven’t said one word to Bucky after leaving the minefield, and he hates when you give him the silent treatment.
“Doll, please talk to me,” he begs. He follows you into your shared bedroom, and you quickly head into the bathroom. Before he can join you, you close the door and lock it so he can’t get in. Of course, he can get in with his metal arm but he’s respecting your privacy. “I’m sorry, but I had to save your life.” He rests his forehead on the door and he can hear you crying softly inside. “Y/N, please come out.”
You don’t. He sits on the floor right outside the bathroom door and waits for you to come out. He sits there for hours waiting patiently for you to come out of the bathroom. When you do, you take a seat next to him on the floor.
“What we have is a partnership, Bucky.” You look into his eyes. “Your life isn’t fully yours anymore. You have my heart in your hand so if you die, then so will I.”
“The same thing goes for you, Doll.”
“If you would have told me what you wanted to do, I would have been more likely to go along with it. You have to be better at communicating. I will do the same.”
“Okay, you got it. Do you want to watch movies for the rest of the night?”
“Yes,” you smile.
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buckysbabygorl · 1 year
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Punching Bag (Bucky Angst)
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Summary: As much as Bucky can't stand Y/N, he's tired of her taking all the blows on the field. They have to come up with a plan.
Word Count: N/A
“Get your hands off me.”
She shoved him away, as best she could given her state.
“I can do it myself.”
She took the med kit from his hands, in her drunken stupor she stumbled to the dining table, fumbling with the latches on the case.
Bucky was tired. All he wanted to do was sleep after a long—god awful---day and put the mission behind him.
He dropped his mission bag at the doorway.
“All you’re going to do is make it worse. I don’t need you waking up tomorrow complaining about your drunken hack job.”
She glared at him, pulling out supplies.
“Sober or not, I can stitch myself up fine. Just because I’m not an army vet doesn’t mean I don’t know basic field medics.”
She mumbled something more under her breath; probably dick or asshole, some of her common artillery when insulting him.
He didn’t need this. He really didn’t need this right now. Today had been hard, and for Bucky that was saying something. Whether it was being back in Russia, during its coldest and iciest period of the season; or being stuck with the person he loathed the most, he wasn’t sure what had triggered him.
But he was on edge and exhausted, and he wanted this night to end.
Then she had to go and get stabbed of all things, and now this dark hour was dragging on and on and on...
It was then Bucky realized that this sad excuse of a safe house would not give him enough space from her. It was a bachelor style apartment, something small enough that would never catch the eye of enemies, tucked away in an complex that was filled with much more shady individuals that them. There was a kitchenette, a dining table with two chairs, and a couch that pulled out. There was also a rickety old rocking chair, which looked far from comfortable.
This night wouldn't get any shorter.
“Ow.”
She stabbed her self softly with the needle, swaying slightly as she tried to stablize herself.
“Jesus Christ," Bucky said, "did you even wash your hands?”
“Fuck you.” She retorted.
His jaw tensed as he stopped himself from raising his hands, he wanted to tear his hair out strand by strand.
Why was she always so fucking argumentative?
“Would you stop saying that?”
He strode across the room, kneeling in front of her chair and grabbed her arm.
She attempted to pull away from him, which was stupid to do with a needle in hand.
“Let go.” She demanded.
She pulled back, hard, and Bucky gripped her forearm.
“Will you just—enough.” His voice stern and commanding.
She halted, slightly hazey and swaying. But she stopped.
Bucky let out a frustrated sigh.
“For once, can you just shut up and listen? For five seconds, can you do that?”
She blinked slowly at him, pursing her lips.
He recognized that look in her eye; it was always followed by a sly grin, a tilt of her head that said “what are you gonna do about it, Sergeant?”
This time, she slumped back into her chair. She relaxed her arm and used the other to shove the kit towards him.
“Fine. Do your worst. I don’t give a shit if you leave a scar.”
He waited a moment, to see if she’d say something more or change her mind, maybe smack his hand away one more time.
But she didn’t.
So Bucky picked up the needle and went to work.
She didn’t look at him while he stitched her up, remaining in her dead stare as she looked straight at the wall.
She winced a few times but said nothing.
After a few minutes, the quiet made Bucky’s skin itch.
“Why did you jump at her, anyways? I had it covered.”
Y/N closed her eyes, inhaling through gritted teeth.
Responding wasn’t worth the effort, so she shrugged.
“Really? You’re not going to say anything?” He asked.
She groaned. “Does it matter? Not like I can do anything about it now.”
He shook his head, continuing as if he hadn’t heard her. “--And downing a bottle of tequila won’t make you feel better.”
She bit the palm of her hand as he worked his way along her side.
Her breaths stuttered as she inhaled.
“Hurts less.” She mumbled.
He paused a moment.
He remembered what that felt like. How much these kind of things could hurt you. He could imagine the pain she was going through, he could see it in her face. But he tried to ignore it. He was still mad at her.
“I don’t get you. You do this every time, you’re not invincible you know—”
She slammed her hand on the table.
“I know that! Jesus, you tell me every time—AH!”
She pulled away from him, hurting herself as he had tightened a stitch.
He looked up as his hands steadied her, and his voice softened.
“Y/N, sit still...”
Her head was turned away from him, but he could still see the corner of her eye and the downturn of her lip.
He hadn’t realized she’d been crying.
He tilted his head down, biting on the inside of his cheek. Best to just get this over with.
“Just… sit still. I’m almost done.”
They fell into silence again. The winter snow was building up on the safe house windows, the wind pounding against the panes.
He tried to shut it out. But it was either listen to the howling storm or rehash the scenario in his brain.
Her voice came over his ear piece, she told him to watch his six; that agents were entering through the south wing of the building. He ignored her, he had it covered.
She must’ve taken his silence the wrong way; she figured he was in danger. She was like that, she’d assume the worst and abandon her post to cover. Fuck, why did she have to do that…
“Did you get a hold of Sam?”
Surprised by her question, Bucky looked up from his hands. She still wouldn’t turn to face him.
“Called him while I was walking back. Said he can get a jet in a 4 am. With the storm it’s hard to get here—”
She winced again. He groaned.
“Stop moving.”
She awed at the ceiling and clenched her hand into a fist.
“My god, would it kill you to have some sympathy?”
He tied off the suture and snipped the thread.
“I don’t have sympathy for idiocy.”
She scoffed, “Fuck you.”
Which she had said for the umpteenth time today.
He decided to ignore it. But he was still fuming, still angry at her… why, why would she do that?
He should’ve watched his six, he knew he should’ve.
They came up behind him, 4 out of the 6 agents had decided to cover his wing.
He was holding his own, but the one was smart. Patient. Waiting while the others hammered Bucky with brute force to deliver a fatal blow. She had been aiming for his right side, probably trying to stab between his right ribs or his into his spine…
“You know, normal people say thank you.” He nodded to her left side, where 10 stitches sat neatly in line.
“I could say the same thing to you.” Her words were icy, she nearly spat them at him.
Bucky scoffed. “Why should I thank you? I had it covered, you jumped in and now I have to patch your drunk-ass up—”
“I did it because it’s instinct. I saw my partner outnumbered and I saved your ass. Sorry it’s an inconvenience to you because I’m not a goddamn super soldier.”
The slam of his hand on the table made her jump, and her eyes went wide at the thought that he might actually make her shut up for once.
"You can't throw yourself in a fight where you'll get more hurt than I will."
His eyes faltered when he looked at her, "We... we talked about this Y/N--"
Silence fell between them again.
She fumbled with the bottle cap on the table, and Bucky stood still at her side.
He didn't know what more to say, and she didn't know how to respond.
Because he was right, they had talked about this before many times.
There were never tender moments between the two, but the closest they'd ever gotten to something like that was usually Y/N's recovery. They were paired together more often than not; aside from them loathing one another, they were extremely compatible.
But each time they teamed up, something like this happened.
Y/N would get stabbed, she'd get shot, she'd break a bone or two, she'd pick a fight that was out of her depths.
He'd get mad and so would she, then a day or two would pass and he'd watch her struggle with something. Whether it was taking the stairs, or doing her physio, or getting back into training...
Somehow they'd end up alone and they fell back into this same conversation.
You can't always put yourself at risk for me, I know you're skilled but there's situations where you need to be more careful.
She'd sit with it, and usually come back with the same response.
I know you're capable of taking more than most people, but it doesn't mean you get to be a punching bag. If my partner is in trouble, I'm going to step in.
There was never a solution made, because he was the immovable object and she was the unstoppable force.
In short, they were both too stubborn and too proud.
Normally, she wouldn't bring it up. But feeling brave, or drunk enough to be brave, she did.
"We're going around in circles, Barnes."
She didn't look up from the table, but he continued to stare.
"We can't fight about this every single time we go on a mission. We've requested to be separated, and that's not happening. So tell me what the fuck you want me to do, because I'm not just gonna take a seat every time it gets ugly."
He sighed, "What I'd like you to do is not be an idiot out there--"
"Hm," She took another drink, "And I'd like you to stop being an asshole."
His jaw clenched again. Every time with this girl...
"Do you not see where I'm coming from?" He gestured to her ribs, "Look at you, Y/N. How many scars is that now? From our missions alone?"
She shook her head, fiddling with the cap.
"I don't know Barnes, that's not the point."
She did know, it was nine now.
"The point is I'm not going to change my mind and neither are you. So figure it out with me instead of fighting me every chance you get. Pick a different fucking solution."
It seemed Bucky couldn't stop sighing, he wanted to walk away from this night and be done with it. But he knew they'd be back in this position a month from now, and a month after that, and so on.
So, begrudgingly, Bucky sat down at the table.
"Fine. If you won't stop being reckless--"
"--And you won't stop being a dick--"
He pointed at her, "Okay first. Stop doing that. I get you're frustrated but you swear at me a lot. I hate it. It feels like you try to pick a fight."
She went to speak, but all she could think of were insults involving curse words. He'd proven his point.
Her lip curled in a scowl, "Fine."
He nodded. "Okay."
She shifted to sit with her arms crossed on the table, eyes flicking up to him.
"Stop telling me I'm an idiot. And stop saying I'm reckless. You think it's reckless 'cause I'm not Steve or Thor, or whoever else was enhnaced on the team... just because I'm not like you guys doesn't mean I'm being stupid when I'm out there."
God, he wanted to fight her on that.
Different capabilities meant different actions in certain situations, at least in his eyes.
But he kept it to himself, at least they were starting to work on something.
"Okay..." He drew out the word, subtly saying he wasn't okay with it, but Y/N didn't care.
He could think what he wanted, but he didn't get to throw it in her face every time he wanted.
"I can't control what you do on the field." Bucky started, "You make your own calls and you... you know what you're doing out there."
Y/N smirked at the look of pain on Bucky's face, she know he hated to admit it. But she was damn good at her job.
"--but if there's a situation that I think you need to stay out of, respect me when I ask."
"What if I think I can handle it?" She questioned.
He lifted his hand off the table slightly, halting her to let him finish.
"If I need you, I'll tell you."
She rolled her eyes, "So I'm supposed to wait until my coach puts me in?"
His fists balled in frustration. "No, I'm saying be there but..."
He leaned back in his chair, looking up to the ceiling.
"I don't know, maybe we have a call sign when we both need each other."
He said that to appease her, he didn't think there would ever be a time he'd need her, but maybe she would need him. And at least it would keep her from jumping in and getting sliced to bits.
She snorted, "What, like a safe word?"
He huffed slightly, "I guess so, yeah."
That seemed to be enough conversation for her, as she stumbled out of her chair and clambered over to the musty pull out couch in the corner. She was still nursing that damn bottle in the crook of her arm.
Bucky sat, somewhat surprised that that was the end of it.
"I'm tired." She mumbled as she slipped onto the mattress, kicking her go-bag onto the ground.
I guess I'll take the floor, Bucky thought.
He raised his hands in an exaggerated shrug, his words laced with contempt. "Any thoughts on the safe word?"
Y/N pinched the bridge of her nose, already feeling the early effects of a hang over.
"Yeah," she muttered, "Punching bag."
Bucky waited for more from her, but after a few moments of silence, her snoring began and he accepted that as the end of their conversation.
It wasn't much, but it was a start.
He accepted his place in the awful rocking chair, but not before picking the bottle of tequila out from beneath her.
He took one final look at his patch up of her ribs, before settling into his seat, eagerly waiting for Sam's arrival.
~
They didn't speak more of their truce after that night, but there had been an unspoken agreement on both ends to keep their promise.
They'd be less hostile towards one another; and they'd work their roles independently during missions unless someone asked for help.
And, oddly enough, their "safe word" popped up more and more with each mission. It was easier than saying the words "I need your help", because both were so stuck in their pride to ever admit that. But "punching bag" worked just fine.
In fact, they had gotten so comfortable using it during their duo missions, that it became an oddity to the rest of the Avengers in team missions.
"Barnes, what's your location?"
"Intersection of Francis Street and Main."
"I'm west of Francis by one block. Alice Street. Punching bag."
Within less than a minute, he was there.
It was rare for Bucky to use it, but every so often he had.
One time, it had been used because Bucky's metal arm had adhered to the FOD magnetic sweepers of their combatant's tank.
Y/N had laughed when she arrived, but never brought it up afterwards.
That was another thing, an interesting development so to speak. In its month's of usage, "Punching bag" somehow became "come, no questions asked."
Sam, Joaquin and Sharon had all taken notice of this new addition to their lingo; but decided not to press it. Ever since it had been implemented, the two were actually getting along. Sam would argue they were somewhat friendly with one another.
It was a peaceful three months since their Russia mission, and the team was going to ride it out as long as they could.
~
Bucky felt numb. Which was bad, because usually that led to an anger spiral or a drawn out dissociation episode. Neither were good options for him.
It was a bad day. A really fucking bad day.
He had called his therapist, but at the fourth call with no answer, he had assumed she was asleep.
Of course she was, it was 2 in the morning.
Bucky tried to remember what she had taught him; their so-called "game plan" when things went south.
He didn't want to listen to music, he had tried going for a walk, he had tried using that dumb journal she recommened he'd buy but he couldn't write anything down.
Call someone, she had said, your line of work has a select few that understand what you're going through. And those select few happen to be your friends, you can lean on them . That's what they're there for.
He had hovered over Sam's contact for—about—15 minutes. But he didn't want to.
Some nagging feeling in the forefront of his mind pulled him back, to lean towards someone else.
He scrolled down, clicked the contact, and sent a quick message.
Punching bag.
And then he waited.
-
Bucky had left his location on in their group comms chat, and Y/N was surprised to see that he was in his own apartment.
Her mind jumped to an intruder holding Bucky hostage in his own home; or him being kidnapped, leaving his phone behind and it was the last message he had been able to send before being taken away.
She got paranoid like that. She was working it out in therapy, or whatever.
Bucky rarely used their safe word, which she resented him for, but when he did she knew it was serious.
She was there in 10 minutes.
Bucky heard shuffling outside his door; as stealthy as she was, he had the fortune of super-soldier hearing.
Then she gave their call sign, an additional one that was in early development. One knock, a pause, then four knocks.
You're, one syllable, an id-i-ot, four syllables
He'd respond back with two hard knocks to signal it was clear; two syllables for "fuck you".
Apparently their old habits died hard.
He had left the door unlocked, and she entered slowly.
With a quick scan of the room, she deemed the coast was clear. Even more surprising considering the text she had received less than 15 minutes ago.
She looked at him with question, "Our safe word is usually for emergencies, y'know."
He nodded, but said nothing.
She pursed her lips, more confused but coming in regardless.
"...Alright."
She slipped off her coat and kicked off her boots. She found it odd to see him on the floor, then noticing the pillow and blankets laid out on the hardwood, she realized that's how Bucky slept.
Late at night, she put two and two together; he'd tried to sleep and couldn't.
She folded her coat and sat down across from him.
She stayed silent, patiently waiting for him.
He continued to say nothing.
She waited for a few minutes longer, prompting him to give some sort of explanation for his text.
But again, nothing.
She clapped her hands once on her knees, and stood up. Bucky panicked, fearing she would leave---
"You got back at 10, right?" She asked.
Bucky was taken aback by her knowledge of his returning home, but nodded after his pause.
She hummed, "Okay. Have you eaten?"
"Uh--" Bucky thought for a moment, realizing he hadn't. "--No."
She nodded. It was a start.
"Okay. Then uh---I'm gonna get you some food."
After digging through the cabinets whilst Bucky sat on the floor, she mustered her supplies; butter, cheese, and bread.
Grilled cheese wasn't the fanciest of meals but considering the situation, it would have to do. Besides, she didn't know how to cook anything else.
5 minutes later, a plate plopped down in front of him, and she sat cross-legged as she started on her sandwich.
He watched her for a moment, before she looked up at him with a mouthful.
"Don't let good eatings go to waste Barnes," she wiped crumbs from her lips, "I put my blood, sweat and tears into this meal."
Shockingly, even to himself, Bucky laughed. And then he ate.
"I would've added onion," She said, "But you don't seem to have... many ingredients in your fridge, Buck."
He was surprised at her wanting to use onion, and even more surprised at her usage of his first name. But he let the latter slide.
"Onion?" He questioned.
She sent an odd look back at him, "What? You've never had onion in your grilled cheese?"
When he shook his head no, she went into a ramble.
"My god, you're missing out. I'll tell you this; one time, my Pops went into this diner, you see--"
Bucky felt himself smile as she went on, telling a story of her grandpa recommending the restaurant make it a special of the day, "grilled cheese with onion", and how it had been such a hit with the locals, that they gave her grandpa a free grilled cheese every day from that day on. Which was how she knew how to make it.
She told more stories about her grandpa, then about her family, and Bucky realized he'd never heard more about her in one sitting. In fact, he realized he had known nothing about her personal life the entire time they had been working alongside eachother.
He sat happily listening, grilled cheese in hand, and even took her up on seconds as she continued to talk.
Y/N figured that, sometimes, that's what someone needs. To fill the silence, to feel the normal, especially on days that were less than good.
And eventually, the other person would start talking too.
People need distraction. Sometimes they need to talk, they need advice, or they need help and action. But when someone needs you, and they can't find the words, talking of nothingness can be the best thing.
Y/N could be good at that, something Bucky never knew about her. And, something Bucky never knew he liked.
A silence fell over them, but not like before. Not the tense words-unsaid sort. But comfortable. She washed dishes and he sat on the floor.
She flicked her hands at the sink before drying them, Bucky wondered if she did that all the time.
"So," She said, "do you want to talk about it?"
The question might have been jarring to others, but to him it wasn't. Bucky just shrugged.
"I don't think so."
He didn't need to, he thought. This was enough.
She nodded. "Okay. Do you want me to go?"
He was shaking his head before he knew it, and she smirked.
Not the spiteful one she used to adorn with him, but more of a cheeky one. One a friend might give to another.
"Alright. Do you want me to stay?"
He picked at his ratty blanket he had tucked beside him.
"Kinda." He thought before adding, "If you don't mind."
She checked her watch, "I've got nowhere to be."
She said something about a deck of cards, and went to search his house, which for some reason he didn't mind.
She found a deck, Bucky hadn't known he owned one.
"So, I'm gonna teach you how to play King's Corners, kick your ass at King's corners, and then we're gonna talk about this bed situation which is unacceptable..." she trailed off in her teasing, and Bucky found himself laughing more.
She did teach him how to play, and he ended up kicking her ass, which she claimed was beginner’s luck.
She stayed all night.
More nights like that began to happen, sometimes Bucky spoke and sometimes he didn't.
Sometimes they fought, most times they didn't.
The fights happened less and less. The all-nighters happened more and more.
And Bucky noticed more things he liked. More than her grilled cheese, more than her comfortable ramblings, and soon he found there were more things he liked than not.
She trusted Bucky to hold his own on the field, and he tried not to be as protective of her, letting her choose her own actions. They found out that was what he was afterall, and she realized she had been too.
She had been staying longer and longer. The next thing they knew, she wasn't leaving at all.
~
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Could you maybe possibly do a Bucky X single mum reader? Maybe he doesn't know she's a mum thinks she's ghosting him and then bumps into her and said child or something maybe some angst smut fluff the whole shebang
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Bucky was officially done with dating.
He had felt this quite a few times but never had he decided to put an end to dating in the modern day until now. Things had been going great, he didn't even think she would've accepted to go on a date with him yet she did and after that, there wasn't a single moment where he wasn't thinking of her or with her. She was sweet, smart and didn't seem to mind about his past as the Winter Soldier or the metal arm that was blatantly visible to anyone if he took his gloves off. He was finally happy, in a healthy relationship, or at least he thought so.
A week ago things had gone radio silent, there were no texts, he didn't see her at her usual coffee spot and whenever he tried calling, it would go to voice mail time and time again. It had finally hit him that she had just "ghosted" him as Sam called it. Maybe he was right, yet not in the common sense, instead he felt haunted. Haunted by her touch, by her memory and even by the stupid cookies she used to buy. The same stupid cookies he was staring at right now.
      - Can I get these? - a toddler jumped up and down next to him. It was a girl, at least Bucky thought it was a girl based on the high pitched voice. He only looked at the toddler when she pulled on the leg of his trouser, finally forcing him to look at her. - Sir, please can you pass me the cookies?
He shrugged, easily grabbing the box and handing it to the girl who went off running to the legs of a woman, a woman who looked too familiar, a woman who looked almost terrified when she saw Bucky. Honestly, Bucky wasn't even sure who was more terrified if her or him.
      - Bucky. - she said as she walked up to him. - Listen, I ...
      - That's fine. - he interrupted her. - You don't have to say hi to me.
      - No, I just ... I need to explain things.
      - I'd rather avoid the whole "it's not you, it's me" discussion. You know, you could've at least sent me a text instead of ghosting me.
      - Ghosting? No, no, you don't understand. I've been busy and ...
      - For a whole week? Clearly you're not busy enough to be perusing the supermarket.
      - Perusing? I'm just getting groceries, I forgot I couldn't if I didn't text you.
      - Oh so you do know how to text. - Bucky knew he was being mean now but he was hurt. There were may voices in his head which were making him feel like a loser, make him feel like just the Winter Soldier yet he also knew that was no reason to insult her so before he could say something he would regret, he walked away.
Technically, he had now ghosted her as well but she'd done it first so it wasn't as heavy in his mind. At least not as heavy as the idea that the girl he liked so much had suddenly stopped wanting to see him. Many things were going through his mind about what could've caused it, he didn't see another man with her at the store so it potentially wasn't one so his mind was forcing him to face the fact that he was probably the reason. Who would want to date a murderer, the Winter Soldier? No one.
      - Did you bring my milk? - Steve asked as he skimmed through the groceries. - Bucky?
      - I saw Y/N in the shop. - he sat down. - And I was a dick to her. Basically ran off with whatever I had in my cart.
      - Hold on. - Steve said as he sat next to him. - You saw her? What did you say?
      - Stupid shit.
Steve rolled his eyes. Bucky was his best friend, they had known each other since forever and he wasn't against taking his friend's side even if he knew he may be slightly wrong. Yet, in this case, he knew Bucky probably was acting out from hurt and that usually wasn't pretty or nice to hear. It was quite vicious actually, sometimes he forgot how vicious Bucky could be.
      - I don't know what you said but maybe you should apologise.
      - Probably. - he sighed. - Yet again I think she was getting ready to give me a pity speech and I'd rather not listen to it.
      - Do you like this girl? - Bucky stayed silent at this. Of course he liked her, she was all he could think about at night, she was the sun the moon and the stairs for all he cared. But she didn't want him, what else would be the reason for her to suddenly go cold on him. - You've lived for a whole century, Buck. Go talk to her and find out what it is instead of sulking.
(...)
Bucky already regretted this.
As he stood outside her apartment door, he wondered if he was a complete creep. He felt like one, waiting for someone to open the main door so he could get into the building with the sad flowers he'd bought hoping they would convince Y/N not to close the door in his face. Once more, he stared at the golden number on her door before sighing and knocking. He heard quick footsteps before the door knob was slowly twisted and the door opened. The same toddler who he had seen in the market opened the door.
      - Hi! - she said looking at him as if he was her oldest friend.
      - Uh ... Is Y/N here?
      - Meredith, who are you talking you? - he heard Y/N's voice echo through the apartment until she appeared at the door. - Bucky.
      - Hi. - he cleared his throat.
      - Mere, go inside. - Y/N ushered her daughter back inside, closing the door behind her.
Bucky stared at Y/N in both awe and confusion. Who was that toddler? Was it hers? She did look a look like Y/N and he had seen both of them at the supermarket as well. Did Y/N have a kid?
      - She's mine. - Y/N said noticing the doubt on his face. - I had her senior year of college. She's 4.
      - Why ... uh ....
      - She's 4, she doesn't really understand relationships and I don't want to bring anyone into her life that may leave. I also usually struggle to date when I tell guys I have a 4 year old ... I should've told you, I'm sorry.
      - And the ghosting?
      - I wasn't ghosting. - she crossed her arms. - Mere had the chicken pox and I had to stay home with her. I was gonna text you but I thought this ... this would be a better conversation to have in person.
      - Ah ... - he scratched the back of his neck. - I was an asshole at the supermarket, wasn't I?
      - That depends ... are those flowers for me? - she smirked.
      - Yes. - he extended his arm towards her handing her the flowers. Marigolds, her favourite. - They look a bit sad though.
      - They look perfect. - she smiled at him. - Wanna come in?
(...)
Bucky stirred awake in the couch as he heard a soft rustling following by breathing. He peaked his eye open to see Meredith staring at him with wide eyes before she poked his cheek with her finger.
      - Mr. Bucky? Can you make me pancakes?
He could get used to this.
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mylovelies-docx · 11 months
Text
Sorry, I Love You - Part 1
Here we go! I have it planned that I will be updating this story on Fridays, so yay! I have 10 parts set out as of now, but we'll see where this story takes me.
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: Friends with Benefits, ANGST, unrequited feelings, lots more to come!
Word Count: 1,200
Prologue
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You were right to doubt Natasha's words.
Waking up next to Bucky just gets harder and harder as time goes on. Listening to his soft murmurs and heavy sighs, the feel of his bare skin against yours. Every time you find yourself between his sheets, you resent him a little. But it’s not his fault, it’s yours. Every time.
Because you know that if you ever take that one crucial step towards him, you’ll lose him. Lose this closeness, this connection.
So you don’t take that step. You haven’t opened up and told him how you feel for months now. And it drives a knife into your heart with every second that passes where you don’t confess.
Every time you sneak away from parties to some hidden room for a quick fuck, or when he’s pounding into you under a street light on some deserted road with your leg hiked over his motorcycle at 3 am, you can’t help but imagine that all this passion has to mean something to him. Like it means something to you.
So you test it.
You invite him on adventures between missions, visiting museums and parks and 24/7 diners that you know are perfect date spots. He always readily agrees to hang out and stays with you the whole time, his arm slung over your shoulders while he laughs in your ear.
Spending time with Bucky like this leaves you effervescent. You always leave his arms smiling like a fool – because that’s what you are.
Because these movie tickets are just an excuse, really. 
Bucky’s been so busy these last couple of weeks that you’ve hardly seen him, let alone spent any "quality" time with him. You’re currently on your longest dry spell you’ve ever had with him, and the lack of contact leaves you delusional.
Delusional enough to do something stupid. 
Delusional enough to tell Bucky how you feel.
The air is cold as you and Bucky stroll from the movie theater, your heart buzzing in your chest as you contemplate how best to approach the topic. Bucky gives you the perfect opportunity with his next sentence.
“Damn, dollface, forgot how much fun it was to hang out with you. Feels like it’s been ages.”
“We could always hang out more,” you respond coyly, taking his hand and curling yourself against his side. You don’t think you can look him in the eyes while you confess to him.
“Yeah, we should,” Bucky says, and you can’t hold back your next words.
“We could go on a real date sometime.”
You feel a nearly imperceptible jolt in Bucky’s muscles, and his voice is slightly bemused when he replies. “What?” 
There’s confusion behind the words, but you hope against hope that it’s because he’s thinking your suggestion through.
“Well, I mean, we’ve already kind of been going on dates and doing other things that couples do? It wouldn’t be so hard to just make it more concrete, you know?” Your words squeeze around the lump in your throat, your insides shivering in desperation.
Bucky stops in his tracks and pulls you off to the side of the street out of other people’s way. He turns you to face him, his palms resting on your shoulders, his blue eyes searching your face for any sign of the joke you must surely be playing. Because you’ve talked about this. He was very clear. And you had agreed all those months ago – agreed that it was just sex. Agreed that neither of you had any romantic feelings for the other.
“Uh, doll? What are you…?”
Your cheeks burn and your fingers tingle. Your heart can’t handle being scrutinized so intensely at this moment. You avert your eyes to where you’re scuffing your shoe back and forth, back and forth, across the pavement.
“I’m saying… I–I like you, Bucky.” Heart in youth throat, you finally look back into his eyes when you say his name. 
But his expression as he looks back at you isn’t the one you were wanting to see. Bucky looks panicked. Like you’ve just told him that you’re holding a bomb that’s set to detonate in seconds. 
“Jesus,” Bucky says your name in exasperation as he removes his hands from your arms and runs them through his long hair, “why would you–”
Fuck. 
You quickly back-pedal, trying to keep the panic out of your voice while scrambling to pick your bleeding heart off the dirty sidewalk.
“No, no, no. Wait, Bucky. Listen. I know we’ve talked about this before and you said you weren’t looking for anything serious.” Your hands are flying all over the place as you try and explain away your feelings. “But we’ve been hanging out a lot and maybe I just got the wrong idea–”
“Yeah. You did,” Bucky interjects, sending a dagger into the mess of an organ clutched desperately between your hands. “It’s flattering and all, but… you know I’m not interested in you like that.”
You’re successfully holding back tears against the burning in your eyes, but the need to release all the pain you’re feeling is overwhelming. You wrap one arm protectively around yourself and grab on to your other bicep, squeezing hard to feel the physical hurt instead of the emotional.
“No, yeah, you’re right. I’m – I just thought I should be honest? But, seriously, don’t even worry about it.” You hold your hands up in a placating gesture and give as convincing a smile as possible. “This won’t change anything, I promise. And besides, I’ll get over it soon enough!”
Bucky gives you a skeptical look, but nods his head slowly. “So… we’re taking sex off the table, obviously.”
You give a breathy laugh and try to roll your eyes playfully. “Probably not the best idea at the moment,” you respond.
“Yeah,” Bucky sighs, “probably not.”
You both stand in awkward silence, not really looking at each other. You can only stand it for so long until you casually throw a thumb over your shoulder and suggest heading back home.
It’s a long, long ride back on his motorcycle. But at least the wind lashing your face gives you an excuse for the tears that fall.
***
You make it to your floor without seeing another person, but your luck runs out when you find Nat and Wanda watching a movie together in your bed. The sight of your two best friends smiling warmly at your entrance shatters the last of your strength.
You can’t stop the hiccuping sob that leaves your throat – it refuses to be held back any longer. Both women’s eyes widen and they immediately start to sit up, but you’ve collapsed on top of the covers between them before they could move. You can feel Wanda’s fingers in your hair and Nat’s hand rubbing soothing circles between your shoulders.
Your sobs eventually turn into sniffles, and that’s when Wanda speaks.
“What happened?” she asks softly.
You take a shuddering breath in before saying, “I was stupid.”
“What–” Wanda begins, but Natasha immediately knows what you mean.
“Fuck.” She sighs heavily and leans down to place a kiss on the crown of your head.
Part 2
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