#bucky barnes angst
Kill with kindness
Summary: One moment, you're a stone cold assassin, the next your flowery sundress and radiant smile blind Bucky. Well, a mission doesn't always go as planned, and your sundress doesn't always hide whatever is going on in your life.
Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Fem!Avenger!Reader
TW: yeah idk what this is exactly but - lil bit angst, fluff, canon violence, injuries, blood, cursing, like AU kinda thing, wrong medical info bc i aint no doctor, poorly edited bc im a busy bitch
Words: 5.9K (sorry i literally couldn't stop writing)
A/N: yeah well... its me... again. hope you liked this one, i wrote it like, weeks ago?? and forgot about it lmao but i love it sm💗 also; i woke up at 4:30 am bc finals ✨ and wasn't really in the mood to do extensive editing, so sorry for any mistakes.
For everyone who has finals; you can do it!!! Im so proud of you already 💞
Drift off on the floor, I drag you to the shore. Sweating through the sheets, you're gonna drown in your sleep for sure. Wake up and start a big fire in our one room apartment. But I'm too tired to have a pissing contest. All the bad dreams that you hide. Show me yours, I'll show you mine.
- Phoebe Bridgers, Savior complex
The way you effortlessly changed from a world class assassin into a sweet and innocent civilian had always been a mystery to Bucky.
One moment, you were throwing daggers at criminals with deadly accuracy and wiping blood off your cheek and the next you were walking around in the compound, damp hair, your citrusy perfume seducing him and a tiny sundress flowing around your figure.
To him, you were a city personified; the early morning - you were soft and silent and rays of sunshine that bounced off his skin warming, him up from the outside in, but you were also the night - loud and rambunctious, dark humor, like a bass in the clubs that reverberated through his mind constantly.
Everything about you was in stark contrast to him. During combat, you were a swift and silent assassin. You didn’t have any superhero-like abilities like the majority of the team, but the way you jumped up on the wall and twisted your legs around a guy’s neck to then fall down with grace and throw a dagger at another guy, made it seem like you did, always anticipating what was next.
Bucky was a brute force in comparison to you. From the way he ran, heavy boots stomping on the floor as he threw a knife with so much strength it pierced a guy’s hand to the wall, to the way his vibranium arm could easily crush a bone if he needed it to.
When you weren’t on a mission, the contrast was even bigger. Your bubbly laugh rang through the kitchen when you were baking chocolate chip cookies for everyone, or when you’d put a bandaid on Sam’s forehead because yes, it hurt and yes, he wanted you to take care of him, because you always made oolong tea and checked-up on everyone.
Bucky was the silent brooding type, who’d lick his own wounds in the corner of the kitchen, far away from everyone else. Sure, you’d check up on him, all toothy smiles and soft touches, but you respected his boundaries and knew when you had to go.
That was one of the many things he loved about you. The ability to sense how a person was feeling, where their boundaries were. You were one of the only people who could tread the fine line he was, the fine line he didn’t always understand himself.
You had wormed your way into his heart so easily, from the obscene jokes you told during missions to your soft whispers flowing in the night air when you were reading poetry on the roof to Bucky because he couldn’t fall asleep again after another gruelling nightmare.
Bucky couldn’t figure you out - and the more he tried to unravel the enigma that was you, the deeper he fell in love.
* * *
This morning’s mission had been... challenging. Some radical group had stolen a shipment of weapons, based on alien technology and intel said that they were gonna use it to get some people out of the raft - the kind of people that never should leave the raft ever again.
Earlier, the team had decided that Nat and you would enter the building from the back. Bucky, Steve and Sam would cause a distraction in the front of the building.
Sam was the first one up, soaring through the sky with his wings as he took out a guy who was standing on the lookout. Bucky had then proceeded to deal with a sniper, his metal hand crushing the pipe of the gun, then smacking the guy across the face with it, effectively knocking him out. Steve had run in after Sam, throwing his shield between two guys and kicking another one in the stomach. The third guy had doubled over in pain, tried to fire his gun, but missed and Steve had knocked him down.
Meanwhile, you and Nat were working on getting inside through the back. You got out your lockpicking kit, and expertly moved the tools in the lock until you heard the small click.
Natasha silently turned the knob as you put back your tools in the small pocket on the back of your suit and got out a dagger instead, one of the 13 you had on you, along with some other fun stuff.
Natasha had strangled the guy behind said door without breaking so much as a sweat, her red hair still pin straight and framing her beautiful face.
You turned to the adjacent hallway and turned your dagger sideways, so you could use it as a mirror to see what was going on there without alerting any of the potential guards.
You clicked your tongue to alert Nat, who was just done tying down the man with an elaborate knot. She propped a piece of fabric in his mouth so he couldn’t allert his accomplices and silently strode over to you.
“And that’s why I clean my knives daily,” you snickered softly as you raised your brows when she checked the reflection, clocking four heavily armed men.
“‘I’m so glad I recruited you when I did,” Natasha whispered in your ear. The two of you fell into your routine, where you would jump up against the wall and land into a criminal’s neck. You’d cut off circulation for a while, just so he’d pass out. Natasha got out her small electric devices and threw them at three other guys, electrocuting them.
“Lazy,” you scoffed as she retrieved the little devices. Natasha just threw you a lopsided grin and advanced towards the middle of the building, where the shipment of guns should be stocked according to the intel.
“Where are you guys?” Natasha’s voice rang in your ear as she contacted the supersoldiers and Sam through the comms when they still hadn’t arrived at the meeting point.
“Right...about….done,” Steve grunted as he slapped a guy across the head with his shield on the beat of the words, “we’ll be there in a minute.”
You were flipping your favourite knife as you were waiting for the boys, trying to do a trick that hadn’t been a success yet. The last flip still didn’t land the way you liked, but when you heard the three men approaching, an idea formed in your mind.
Hiding behind the corner, you let Steve and Sam pass first. They only send an eyeroll your way, but let you do it anyway. Bucky was lagging behind a bit, but once he was close enough, you rolled out from behind the corner and sent the knife flying his way.
Bucky caught your knife effortlessly, a small grin on his face, because you always kept him on his toes, never ceasing to amaze him. He flipped the knife back to you and you caught it immediately, a lazy grin on your face as you watched his cheeks turn crimson.
“Good throw,” he grinned, his blue eyes watching your face with an unreadable expression.
The team huddled together and decided what the best plan of action would be. Sam would send out Red Wing and Bucky and Steve would then bust in and take the brunt of the violence and bullets. Nat and you would sneak in after them and disarm the rest of them - there couldn’t be a lot of people left, right?
Up until that point, the mission had been a success. Everyone on your team was still healthy and going strong, easily defeating the group of criminals that were once again threatening the safety of the world.
But you should’ve knocked on wood or done something else superstitious because when Red Wing entered through the small vent above the door, it was shot out of the air immediately by a slingshot-like weapon that was definitely not from earth.
“The fuck!” Sam called out as his screen blacked out and his mouth fell open, “they didn’t just do that. Tell me they didn’t just do that!”
Bucky just clapped him on his shoulder, a small smirk present as he and Steve got ready to bust through the door.
“Didn’t you just spend like, 7 hours fixing that thing from the last time?” you snickered as you switched out your knives for ninja stars. Sam just stared at you, his jaw slightly twitching in annoyance as he switched off Red Wings interface on his arm.
The whole mission kinda went sideways after that. Bucky had pulled open the reinforced door with his vibranium arm and tossed it aside and immediately shots had been fired at you.
Steve had fended off a few guys with his shield and Bucky had picked up the discarded door to throw it at them, two of them immediately down.
There were so many more though. Intel hadn’t provided you with much information, but the fact that they were actively negotiating with another group of probably very lethal criminals could have come in handy.
“Nat!” you called out as she dodged bullets and flipped over a guy. She grabbed his head, effectively smashing it against the ground as she used gravity to help her bring down the tall man.
She turned just in time, another man blasting some sort of netting towards her. Natasha quickly ducked and rolled out of the way, the netting just grabbing her foot. Natasha was able to cut off the netting and she used it to wrap around another guy who had his back turned towards her, fighting with Steve.
Meanwhile, you ran up to Bucky who was taking on a very muscly man in an intense fist fight. You threw three ninja stars at the guy, two at his knees and one towards his elbow that was just pulling back to punch Bucky square on the jaw.
“Thanks,” Bucky breathed out as the man fell to the ground, screaming in pain. You pulled out your ninja stars again, putting them back into the small compartments of your suit to use for another incoming attack.
“You wanna do our thing?” you asked him as you eyed two other men coming up to you, both holding knives that had a sickening green glow surrounding them.
Bucky nodded and bent down a bit as he held out his arms in front of him. Taking a few steps backwards, you prepared yourself as the two men were just close enough.
You took off towards Bucky as fast as you could and leaped onto his hands that were clasped together. He easily boosted you up into the air, high enough that the men couldn’t reach you, but also not too high, ensuring a safe landing.
The two men faltered in their steps a bit as they watched you fly through the air, momentairly distracted by whatever the fuck you were doing, and Bucky used this to throw a punch as hard as he could against the temple of the left guy.
During your time in the air, you had pulled off your necklace and pressed on the little button on the clasp, turning it into a self tightening string you could wrap around the other man’s throat.
The man tried to fend you off with his knife, but once he started getting lightheaded, he fell to the ground, taking you down to the ground with him.
Once he was out cold, you took off the string and rolled off of him. Bucky was now handling two guys at once, and one of them was holding his right hand in a tight grip, an alien looking gun now pressing against his temple.
Something inside you twisted and snapped as you saw Bucky struggle, trying to avoid the dangerous glimmer of the barrel and you took off without thinking.
You threw one of your own knives into the man’s upper arm and the gun immediately fell to the ground. Bucky used his vibranium hand to keep the man in a choke hold, but he missed the way another guy now turned towards your figure.
The man was quick and stealthy, his knife wielding almost as good as yours as you fended off most of his attacks, throwing an intricate flip in your movements once in a while to get him off your track.
After fending him off for a few seconds, there was finally an opening to do a counter-attack and you flipped another knife into his direction, grazing his shoulder.
This only enraged the man even more and he pounced on you, the green glimmer of the knife now dangerously close to your face.
Your fists were hurting from punching them man repeatedly, blood now coating your knuckles like beet red gloves.
The man tried to stab you with the knife, but just in time you had crossed your arms in front of you, hoping your special suit that had a mix of kevlar threads and vibranium would fend off the knife.
The man was so busy trying to get the knife down to your throat, he missed you still were able to use your legs. You kneed him in the groin and he rolled off of you, grabbing his crotch and wailing in pain.
You grabbed the tightening string and wrapped it around his hands and feet, incapacitating him as he tried his best to escape; it was no use though, your string was made of special material that was almost unbreakable.
That’s when the searing pain on your lower arm finally started to seep into your system. It burnt a little, as if it was actively eating away at the flesh and you winced as you checked out your arm.
The man must’ve succeeded in cutting through your suit anyway with his green knife, leaving a gashing wound open that had a green edge to it.
You grit your teeth and cursed at yourself, before looking around the room to check if there were any more bad guys running around.
Bucky just gave another dude an upper-cut with his vibranium hand and Sam had taken down two others, the room now eerily quiet, only the laboured breath of your team still audible after using most of your energy to fight them off.
“You okay?” you directed the question at Bucky, your adrenaline levels dropping after saving him from being held at gunpoint.
It looked as if those were the last ones remaining and you wanted to check out what they had done to their weapons to make the poison so effective, as you heard Bucky calling out your name, his voice louder than you had ever heard before.
The pain came before the realisation that you were hit by something, no, pierced, as you slowly turned your head to check out your right shoulder.
The metal tip of a green glowing spear was just sticking through the flesh, teasing you that for once, you hadn’t anticipated what would happen to you because you were too busy trying to help Bucky and that you should’ve done another check around the building instead of assuming the coast was clear.
The green stuff definitely wasn’t normal earth-like poison, because it made you feel light in the head almost immediately, shivers running over your whole body and breathing through your nose felt like the most constricting thing you ever had to do.
The spear must have been made from vibranium - or something even stronger, because it easily made your hightec Stark suit look like the homemade spandex onesie Peter Parker once wore, fraying the edges and giving no protection.
There was a struggle behind you, probably Steve or Sam taking out the guy who had thrown the spear at you.
Your knees buckled and you fell down hard on your forearms, your body refusing to cooperate as you felt your eyes turn in their sockets. Your whole body felt like it was slowly getting paralyzed, from your shoulder down to your arms and lower body, eventually reaching your feet.
Bucky immediately came up to you, catching your limp body in his arms before you would fall even further, the spear still stuck out of the back of your shoulder, a sore reminder of how you failed the most basic task an assassin had: always do a double check.
It felt like someone had pushed a giant cotton ball in your mouth, your tongue swollen and foam coating the ends of your lips as you just looked in Bucky’s eyes with the most haunting look he had ever seen.
Bucky was shaking your body, trying to keep you conscious, but when your eyes finally rolled back after a minute, he couldn’t help but whimper your name as you didn’t move anymore.
* * *
Bucky and Steve were carrying your limp body into the medical bay at the compound, Natasha and Sam close on their heels, as they watched your body that was like a ragdoll - your limbs were moving with the sway of their steps, head bobbing up and down.
“Banner!” Bucky called out, his voice alarmed and urgent as he felt your pulse under his finger slowing down to an unhealthy pace.
Bruce showed up in his white lab coat, a pen hanging out of his mouth as he was probably trying to find a formula for something.
“What happened?” he immediately asked as Steve and Bucky carefully placed you sideways on the surgery table. They had broken a part of the spear off for easy transportation, but also to keep the pressure on the wound so you wouldn’t bleed out before Bruce could help you.
Bucky moved his hands carefully over your face, trying to move some of the hair that was stuck to your forehead, your face still wet due to the sweat.
“This spear pierced through her suit,” Natasha said, her hand holding onto yours for support, “it’s laced with something definitely not from earth.”
“I’ll have to see if I can make an antidote,” Bruce said as he got a closer look at the angry green wound, “this spear needs to be removed first.”
“I’ll get Cho on board as well,” Sam called out as he ran out of the medical bay.
“Bucky, I’m going to need you to grab a few things for me,” Bruce said as he pulled on some gloves and checked how exactly the spear was lodged into your body.
“Just tell me what to do, Banner,” Bucky’s voice was a steady beat in the med bay, but his eyes betrayed that he was terrified of what was about to happen to you.
* * *
The moment dr. Cho arrived, everything happened in a whirlwind. She focused on healing your shoulder back to the way it was, while Bruce tried to create an antidote that would reverse the effects the poison had on you.
With dr. Cho’s regeneration cradle, it was possible to heal the wound, but for some reason, your shoulder still had a very large angry green mark left that even the machine couldn’t fix.
Even dr. Cho was surprised when you came back out of the cradle. Her machine had always been able to fix everything, but this poison must’ve done something to the components of your skin, it was impossible to repair - even with her advanced technology.
Bucky had stayed in the OR the whole time, even though he trusted Banner and Cho would fix you up just fine, he couldn’t help but be worried that you’d never open your pretty eyes again or tell another crude joke at an entirely inappropriate moment.
The cradle had done its best, but the poison was still coursing through your veins, the green mark glowing a little and giving the rest of your skin an eerie effect. It reminded him a bit of a book he read when he was younger. The green light across the lake that reminded Gatsby he could never have Daisy the way he wanted to. It felt the same for Bucky. Now even more than ever, as you were on the brink of life and death and he could do absolutely nothing about it.
Right now, he was sitting next to your bed, the slow rhythmic beeping of the machine that registered your vitals a steady beat in his ears. The only thing he could do was hold your hand.
Bruce had been working on the antidote for four hours by now, but still no success. Apparently, the chemical compounds the spear was infused with was breaking down your nervous system, though at a very slow speed, on top of being paralyzing and causing small seizures. There was nothing Bruce could do in the meantime - the only option was to find an antidote. A real race against the clock.
Other team members had come and gone, realizing they couldn’t provide anything for you at the moment. Bucky stayed. He talked with dr. Cho when she came in to check on you, about a possible second round of the cradle to fix your nervous system. The bedside nurse gave him an apple juice after five hours of waiting and Natasha brought him a sweater to change into. He hadn’t even noticed he was still wearing the jacket that was smeared with your blood.
It was after nine hours and 38 minutes that Banner stormed into the room, holding a syringe with a blue liquid that he claimed would reverse the effects of the poison. Banner looked absolutely drained, his skin pale and his eyes droopy, but that motherfucker had done it again, proving he was indeed one of the smartest minds on this planet.
Bruce quickly injected the serum and immediately, your heartbeat sped up to a faster, normal rhythm. It sounded like music to Bucky’s ears.
“Now, I don’t know when she’ll wake up, but I do know she’ll be very vulnerable to the poison, if she ever gets attacked again,” Bruce said as he pulled off his gloves and wiped the sweat off his brow.
Bucky’s fist clenched, the whirring sound of his vibranium arm was aggressive almost as he watched your lifeless form lay in the bed.
“Not on my watch.”
* * *
To Bucky’s surprise, it didn’t take long for you to walk around the compound again, another flowy sundress around your body, the green scar present on your shoulder like a tattoo you wanted to show off.
“What are you doing up already?” he questioned as he strode up to you, his hand coming up to rest on your non-injured shoulder as he furrowed his brows, “it’s only been a few days since you woke up.”
“It’s not that bad Bucky, Cho fixed me up real good,” you waved his concerns away as you stepped around him, “and I want breakfast.”
“You almost died,” he said, exasperation clear in his voice as he eyed you rummaging around in the cupboard, looking for your oats, “in my arms, may I add.”
“Almost Bucky, important word,” your voice was muffled as you were searching for some fruit in the fridge to top your oats.
“Hey,” his voice was behind you all of a sudden, a stern edge to it as his hand pressed against the door, his knuckles turning white. You were acting completely different from your usual soft-spoken persona.
“Hey,” you smiled at him, strawberries now in your hand as you closed the fridge door and avoided him once again.
“Stop this,” he snatched the strawberries out of your hands and you pouted, “stop. You can’t just go around the compound ignoring what happened.”
There was a twitch in his jaw as he looked at you, signalling that he really was pissed off at how you were acting.
Everything about you looked like it was fine - freshly washed hair, your perfume invading his nostrils and the sundress was back, but the green scar reminded him of what had happened mere days ago.
“What should I do about it Bucky,” you crossed your arms in front of your frame, a frown now present on your face as you watched him tense up again, “it happened. I’m still here and I saved your ass by the way.”
“Seriously? I was doing fine,” he snapped, his blue eyes angry, like electricity ready to shock you, “you and your saviour complex almost got you killed.”
“Saviour complex,” you choked out a sarcastic laugh, “this sounds like a story about a pot and a kettle, Bucko.”
Bucky just furrowed his brow as his eyes turned to slits when he watched you grab a few strawberries from the container he was holding.
“I’ll explain it to ya,” you clarified as you cut off the stems, your knife like an extension of your hand, “I see the way you look at me.”
Bucky scoffed as he put the strawberries back in the fridge, “what’s that supposed to mean?”
The clinking of the knife against the cutting board was harsh as you chopped another top off, “at the compound. You think I’m like this delicate flower that needs to be protected all the time.
“And during missions, you see me as this whole other-, this whole other person even! Like a badass who doesn’t need help or anything.”
The last cut rang through the kitchen like a bolt of lightning that struck nearby. Your voice was harsh and cold, every word feeling like a punch to his gut - and it hurt even more because it was you who was throwing punches this time around.
“Why can’t you accept that I'm the same person? I can be crude and cold and dark, but I can be light and summer and warm, too.”
“I-uh,” he hesitated, his hands now in his pockets and eyes trained down to the ground. It’s true what you said - every single word. It was difficult to distinguish the colourful compound-you from the dark and mysterious assassin that accompanied him on missions.
“It’s the same thing for you, Bucky,” your voice was softer now, velvety smooth as you saw how his entire form deflated a bit with realization.
For Bucky, when he was at the compound with you, he wanted to cuddle you until your breaths evened out beneath the night sky, to protect you with all his might. It felt like he was the only one who could protect you and your sundresses and freshly baked cookies. It reminded him of his mother and sister, their laughs ringing through the kitchen when they were baking pancakes.
When you were on a mission, you could take care of yourself. Your black suit would whizz past him, accompanied with flying daggers and ninja stars. Bucky didn’t feel like you needed help or protection during those times, because your smirk reminded him that you were a strong person. You were capable of taking down six guys on your own, why would you need him?
The moment you in your dark suit got hurt, something inside his brain short-circuited. It didn’t make sense that your darker, cruder version would ever get hurt - because you had never been hurt before. Sure, there were scratches most of the time, broken bones some of the time, but never anything to this extent. Your body in his arms bleeding out and exposed to a dangerous chemical, the dark suit not protecting you any more than a sundress would. It confused him to no end.
“What do you mean?” his voice sounded small and hurt, his red-rimmed eyes finally connecting to yours.
“You think you’re this awful machine, but that is not the Bucky I know,” you sighed, “when we’re on the roof, and you think I’ve fallen asleep and you whisper those words, I-I heard all of it Bucky.”
“What?” he blinked a few times, trying to wrap his mind around the fact that you were aware of all his ramblings that were supposed to be lost in the cold night wind on the roof of the compound.
“You act like you’re this tough soldier, but I know you’re so much more than that,” you came closer to him, your hands coming up to lightly touch his face, “just like I am not a fragile woman here or an unbeatable assassin on missions.”
His nostrils flared as he tried to suppress his feelings. His gaze avoided yours, it was focussed on the green glowing mark on your shoulder. The green light that would now remind him every moment you could never be his.
“You’re allowed to be soft and happy, Bucky. It’s not a mutually exclusive thing.”
“I just-,” his voice cracked as the green mark glared at him, but when his gaze fixated on your eyes, they were welcoming and clear and had a loving glimmer to them.
“I just don’t know how,” he decided.
“What if- what if we changed our roof visits a bit?” you proposed, your hands now slowly dragging down towards his neck and shoulders, “I know you’ve got some poetry in your little note-book.”
“Ho- how did you know?”
You pursed your lips, a small smile growing on your face, “because you were reciting some? A few weeks ago?
“It was... bewitching, Bucky. Haunting at times. I-I’ve never heard anything like it.”
“You don’t think it’s weird?” His voice was low, a rumble in your ear straight into your chest, making your beating heart grow three times in size as you watched the man before you crumble right in front of you.
“No! No, not at all. I would love to see more of this side of you,” your fingers gripped on the collar of his shirt, “you don’t need to put a mask on for us - for me.”
Bucky let out a shuddery breath as your fingers traced around his collarbone, your eyes still trained on his. He was used to being close to you on the roof - you had cold hands you’d hide inside his coat - but in the daylight it felt like he might collapse on the ground with the way you were looking at him.
The door to the kitchen opened and Sam strode in, a bit sweaty after his morning run and Bucky wanted to step back, his face back to a stoic gaze and go back to his room to mull over his thoughts.
Your fingers were still gripping his shirt, preventing him from leaving, “tonight. You and me, on the roof,” you quietly whispered, a hopeful look on your face.
Before Sam could say anything on the little interaction, you let him go and went back to your strawberries and oats.
“How was your run, Sammy?” you called out as Bucky swiftly disappeared from the kitchen.
* * *
The air was cold on the roof of the compound that night and the darkness was in stark contrast with the rest of the compound.
Bucky had been watching you for a few minutes from a distance as you drank from your water bottle and stared up at the stars, a blanket wrapped tightly around your shoulders.
You probably knew he was there, lurking in the shadows, but he appreciated the fact that you’d let him come over on his own tempo.
This whole moment felt off to him. This Bucky had never been a soft one, someone who you’d read poetry with. This Bucky was all steel and guns and knives and dark colours that made blending into the night so much easier.
The sound of his boots alerted you of his presence and you opened the blanket so he could slip under it as well, his body providing enough heat to keep warm during the night.
His left hand had a small notebook clutched, but he carefully put it on the ground and sank into the old couch you asked him to drag up to the roof.
Your hands immediately disappeared inside his coat, the cold leaving goosebumps on his skin as he inhaled deeply, whifs of your perfume surrounding the both of you.
“Hi,” you whispered as you turned your head to look at him. The moon was illuminating his face, showing all the planes and angles, the highs of his cheekbones and the soft blue that made you want to drown in his embrace.
He softly whispered hi back, his minty breath fanning on your face as he looked at what you were wearing.
You weren’t wearing your usual colourful outfit, instead black leggings and a dark blue Stark Industries sweater now clad around your body.
Bucky scraped his throat, his heart beating a little faster as he thought about what he wanted to say to you - confess even.
“I-uh, I want to apologize,” he started, biting on his lower lip, “I shouldn’t have made a version of you inside my head.
“I think- I think I wanted to protect the soft parts of you, whilst also admire the dark parts you show to the outside world, and I- I never wanted to admit you could be both of these at the same time.”
You nodded encouragingly, one of your hands coming up to rest against the side of his face, his scruff tickling the inside of your palm.
“And I guess, I never allowed myself to be more than one thing. More than just a soldier. And- and I really want to show you the parts I never showed before - to anyone,” his voice travelled through the air, soft and husky.
“Thank you, for apologizing and for wanting to open up,” you said. after a beat of silence as your finger traced the lines on his face, “it’s not gonna be easy, Bucky.”
He licked his lips but nodded, the feeling of your finger tracing his skin was mesmerizing, drawing him even more, “I know.”
His voice was rough, but the words were soft and it was the perfect combination of who Bucky really was. Behind closed doors he was gentle and loving. He wanted nothing more than to cuddle up with you under the blankets in his room, your head pressed against his chest as he stroked the soft skin on your back.
He would shake you awake after a nightmare, wanting to be held when his thoughts wouldn’t calm down anymore.
He wanted to show you who he really was.
His right hand came up to cradle your face, his nose now immensely close to yours and your breath hitched in your throat.
Bucky was also like a city personified; his soft touches reminded you of the early morning light kissing your skin, his sarcastic laugh of the walks home after clubbing all night.
You and him were magnets. The soft parts clung to each other as much as the dark parts. Sometimes they’d push each other off, other times they would cling to each other for dear life.
* * *
That night, when he pulled off your Stark Industries sweater and his lips attached to your throat and slowly went down towards your breasts, the green glow of the scar on your shoulder didn’t remind him about how unattainable you were for him.
It reminded him there was something glowing inside of you for him. A feeling that would never dim. You weren’t this elusive character in his life anymore. You’d be there for him when he needed you to be, just as he would be for you.
The green scar wasn’t a far-away lantern across the lake, seducing him and making him falter in his movements. It was the warm glow of life that reminded him you were breakable, just as you were strong. You were alive and you were his - at least in this moment.
And when you shakily sighed as his mouth latched to your throat again, your hands coming up to his face to drag him back to your lips, he couldn’t help but let three words slip out, mumbling against your soft lips he never wanted to leave again.
Baby, you're a vampire. You want blood and I promised. I'm a bad liar with a savior complex. All the skeletons you hide. Show me yours, and I'll show you mine.
- Phoebe Bridgers, Savior complex
Bucky Barnes Masterlist
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Mini Bucky Masterlist
Hi hi, I have a vvv limited bucky fic supply but I thought I’d put them here!
Also I’m going to open requests for Bucky if anyone wanted to request anything😂 I write almost anything but will let you know if I feel uncomfortable about it!
Hold my girl 🌸 the leading up to bucky leaving for a mission
Baby let’s stay home tonight 🌸 a little drabble about not wanting to leave bed and lazy days
The usual (series) 🗯🗯
Part 1 🗯
Part 2 🗯
Part 3 tbc
More to come!
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“One of you will cave in eventually…”- B.B.
DON’T STEAL, REPOST, OR TRANSLATE MY STUFF!!!!
a/n- Please like, comment, and reblog!! It means a lot to me that i know anyone who reads my stuff, likes my work! Don’t be afraid to send me asks as well. I’m currently taking requests(for sds and main fics), and i’m always open to talk to new ppl:)
Summary: Bucky and you can’t stand each other, that is until he nearly loses you and things spill out from his mouth soon after.
Warnings n stuff: requested!!!, 18+, angst, enemies to lovers, a small paragraph about sexual things, mentions of blood & an injury, fluff, loki x reader(platonic), bucky pining for reader, cocky bucky, jealousy, reader is in denial about her liking to bucky, may be a little poor medical knowledge on my behalf
ahhhh yes yes yes yes!!! got this done so quick, been in the mood to write some angst. glad i could do this:)
Bucky fucking Barnes. You didn’t think you could possibly hate him anymore than you already did, but as soon as he came walking in with that cocky grin on his face, a woman attached to his hip and dressed to the nines, your blood was past boiling point. It’s not the first time you’ve felt this angry towards him, though.
It’s not the fact that he has a date to Tony’s little gala, it’s the fact that he made sure as soon as he stepped in, that you saw him and then he flaunted his date like a piece of expensive jewelry he owned.
You and Bucky don’t have a good past. The first moment you met him, he immediately scoffed at you, turnt his nose up, and walked away. He never gave you the second to even properly introduce yourself to him. From that day on, you swore to never become friends with such a jerk. A jerk who’s name is James Buchanan Barnes. A jerk who tries his absolute hardest to irk you and get on your bad side.
That doesn’t mean that you’ve not had to go on countless missions with said jerk; better term would be asshole. Usually they don’t go down good though, so it’s best not to even mention those.
Luckily, you didn’t come alone tonight either and oh boy….the look on Bucky’s face was priceless when he saw who you were sporting on your arm. It just so happens to be one of Bucky’s “favorite” people ever. Loki.
Loki and you are just friends. That’s it. Friends. Nothing more, no matter how much Thor tries to push it. Nothing will become of it. But you sure do like to see Bucky’s face contort into slight anger and to watch his jaw clench as if he’s jealous of the whole situation. Ah, it’s a wonderful sight it is.
As soon as he saw the two of you drinking some alcohol by the bar, talking amongst yourselves as well, he began to walk on over with his date on his arm. Your foot nudged Loki’s and his head turned in the direction you were looking. Your eyes were in a glare and the girl at Bucky’s side didn’t seem to notice where the two of them were headed as her eyes studied the lights and people within the room.
As soon as they got to you two, Bucky’s jaw clenched- seeming as if it was going to break the bone. “See you brought a date too, y/l/n.” You brought your drink up to your lips and took a sip, before you placed it back down. The girl beside him seemed confused- but who wouldn’t? You’re brought as a date and your date starts talking to one of his co-workers without introducing you to them? Seems kind of rude.
“Yeah, kind of figured i could use the company. He does make very good company.” You then turned to Loki and he smirked- him catching onto the plan you were throwing out into thin air-, his drink was placed at his lips as he took a sip after. “She makes great company as well. Such a firecracker when you get her alone.” He winked at Bucky and you swore if this wasn’t some formal event for Stark, Loki and Bucky would be in a brawl and there would be blood, seeing as to how hard Bucky’s left hand was fisted and his jaw was clenched.
All Bucky could do was clench his jaw and tighten his grip on the girls arm that he was holding. “Mm, she’s not on missions, kind of a nuisance if you ask me.” Bucky takes the time to admire you as you smirk devilishly into your glass while drinking some. Loki’s eyes concentrated on you. He definitely loves her.
Bucky’s eyes roamed over the dress you’re wearing. He remembered seeing Natasha toting it up to your room a couple of days ago. It’s a silky gown with real sequins that adorn the four inch shoulder straps. The color is a dark coral and it has a slit right in the middle of your leg. The back is low, but white lace is covering it, you can still see your skin. The shoes you’re wearing are strappy, white heels that show your white painted toes. He can see the tattoo on your ankle that’s of a hibiscus flower and the one on your lower thigh of an important date you wouldn’t tell him about.
Bucky swallowed harshly, then his eyes snapped back up to your face. Your attention then turned to him- you didn’t notice the brief checking out he did of you.
He could then see into your eyes, the color he’s come to love so much. There’s a wicked gleam, and that snapped him out of his trance. “James? Shouldn’t you introduce me to Steve?” The woman beside him asked suddenly with a small smile. He then turned his attention to her, “Oh, yeah….right this way.” He gritted his teeth before leaving, then sent you and Loki another glare. They then walked off in the direction of Steve and Sam who were on the opposite side of the room.
Yeah, Loki may just be your friend, but that doesn’t mean he’s not up for a little….game. He knows how much you despise Bucky, well, despise is a heavy and rough word to use. It’s not that you despise him, you hate him for being so…..cocky, stubborn, and rude. Yet, I find him a bit attractive when the light reflects in his eyes just the right way, and when he’s holding his gun- stalking around corners on stressful missions. Especially when he’s laughing at some stupid joke that- no….he’s an asshole. His looks aren’t even enough to cover up his cockiness and bad attitude. That’s why Loki was more than glad to come with you tonight, so he could see the facial expression on Bucky’s face- handsome face, no no…ew- and get underneath his skin along with you.
The night went on, and you and Loki never once separated, unless it was for the bathroom. You saw Bucky and his little date jog out with smitten smiles on their faces around an hour ago, probably went back to his room to make the headboard ram into the wall for the tenth time within the past two weeks, but whatever….don’t care anyways. You’re glad you don’t share the floor with him- you’ve heard too many stories from Sam about how loud him and the women he brings home can be. You want no part of….that.
Tony gave his grand speech around forty minutes earlier and then things went back to normal. You know, his speech was only around two minutes long, nothing too drawn out. Now, you and Loki are just chatting in the common room- away from the noisy room, music, and everyone else.
“It can’t stay like that forever, you know?” Loki asks before he takes another sip from his glass. “What?” “You and him….one of you will cave in eventually and then-.” “Loki, no. He’s an ass. All he ever cares about is himself. He doesn’t care about anything or anyone- ‘specially not me. Have i mentioned the numerous amount of times i’ve gotten hurt on missions where he’s not even watching my back? It’s staying just how it is.” You take a sip from your glass- actually, you finish drinking it all- then you sit it back down.
Loki sighs, “he can be a pain.” Is all he says, leaving your ramble of complaints hanging in the air.
Back in Bucky’s room, he kicked the woman out about thirty minutes ago. She was too drunk for him to actually get a consensual statement from her for sex. He didn’t mind, that didn’t upset him of course, he just made sure she had some water and a ride home before he sent her on her way. Now he’s laying in bed, thinking about what you and Loki could possibly be doing right now.
Are you two more than just friends? Are you…dating? How could he not know that you two are more than just friends, if you are? Well, she doesn’t like me…that’s for one so of course she wouldn’t tell me. He runs his fingers through his hair before he gets up from his bed. He lets out a big puff of air before grabbing a bottle of water from his mini fridge.
Maybe if i would’ve actually talked to her and not walked away the first time we met, things wouldn’t be so….so shit. Not so confusing, maybe we wouldn’t argue or fight. Maybe we would be friends…or possibly even more.
Bucky takes a sip of water and then closes his eyes. He needs sleep, and he’s planning on getting plenty of it. They’re off tomorrow, and the day after, for something Tony is celebrating- he wasn’t listening so he’s not sure what it is. But as soon as work starts back, he knows you two have a mission together. What fun that’s going to be.
“You never have my- fuck- my back!” You groan out as Bucky helps you hobble down the corridor to the nearest exit. “Just shut up! I’ve always got your back, and i’ve got it right now!” “This could’ve been prevented, Bucky.” The pain’s intensity is increasing with every hop you take, and you’re gritting your teeth. “How much further?” “Not much, hang tight.” He replies shortly.
Bullets start flying by your head and that’s when Bucky suddenly picks you up- probably to save his ass a bit quicker because i’m slowing him down. He picks up speed, now at a jog with you in his arms. It doesn’t take him long to bust through the door and run outside. The bullets stop for just a few seconds, before they’re being sprayed at you two again. Luckily, Bucky hasn’t gotten hurt or you’d be totally fucked.
But you? You’re bleeding profusely. The bullet entered through your side or somewhere along that area and didn’t make an exit. Bucky knows he needs to hurry and get you to the jet before things get worse. Before he loses you. He can’t lose you. No, i fucking can’t lose you.
Your eyes are starting to get blurry and your head is getting woozy. You want to sleep. Bucky notices the way your eye lids drift open and then shut again- lingering a little too long for his liking. “Hey, y/n! Keep your eyes open for me, okay?” He’s loud, a little too loud, and you hate it. “Shut up….you’re damn screaming.” Bucky huffs as he runs faster to the jet, bullets whirling past him. It’s at moments like this he wants to sock you in the face, but he knows now isn’t the time- he might even be thankful to hear your smart remarks later; if you two make it out of this. “I wonder why, you’re fucking bleeding out on me!” Is the last thing you hear, concern and worry in his voice as it breaks and he knows you’re tittering on the fence of life in his arms- something you never thought would be happening. Something Bucky wishes wouldn’t have even happened as much as it may seem like he hates you. The last thing you feel is Bucky handing you over to someone else on the jet, his hand lingering on yours as they pull you away.
You wake up, pain immediately hits you. A headache also takes its place because of the bright lights, and then the steady beeping chimes in of your heart rate monitor. Once your eyes adjust, you look over to your right and see Natasha in a very uncomfortable chair. Her eyes snap open at the sudden noise you make on the bed, and she’s up and over to you within seconds. “Hey, hey. Take it easy. Quite a wound you got there.” Her voice is soothing, but for some reason you find yourself wishing that it were Bucky’s, but of course you’d never admit that out loud- not even out loud to yourself.
“Where’s Bucky?” Natasha gives you a soft smile, “he knows you’re fine, but he didn’t want to intrude.” You nod, “did he- what did he say?” Nat let’s out a sigh, “he said that you lost lots of blood. I mean, it was evident you had. You’re going to be out for a while, y/n. He also mentioned that it was his-.” Before she can finish speaking, the door busts open and in comes Tony. “Glad to see you’re up. We were all worried, but we knew you’d make it.” He gives you a big smile and you smile the best you can back. “Yeah, i just- i’m a bit light headed. Is it possible for me to change these myself or?” You ask Nat while motioning to your back and side area, and she shakes her head, “once you’re out it’s going to be hard to change those bandages. Better ask someone to do it for you. The wound is more on your back than your side unlike Bucky thought, and the bullet was hard to get out. So pain meds will be needed.” Of course Bucky described the wound wrong, well to be fair i also thought it was more near my side….and he was just trying to help, y/n….chill out. “Okay, thanks Nat. Tony, where’s he at?” “Oh, the metal armed doofus? He’s in his room, think Steve’s in there with him.” “How long was i out for?” You don’t direct the question to either of them, you just wait for an answer.
“For about twenty-four hours.” Tony finally replies, and you nod. “They should let you out in a day or two. Then you can be back in the comfort of your own room. But i’m serious, get someone to change those bandages every day.” Nat gives you a warning look and you raise your hands in defense. “Okay, okay. I will, mom.”
The first day, you asked Loki to change the bandage for you. He didn’t mind not one bit and the whole time he was making you laugh at some dumb story- as always. He was careful not to hurt you as well and if he did, well, he apologized. You’re nearly the only person he’d ever apologize to.
But what you didn’t know was that Bucky was at your door about to knock until he heard Loki’s voice. He briefly stayed, debating if he should still knock or not, but he soon left with a sliver of doubt on his mind when he heard you laugh at something Loki said.
The second day, you asked Nat to change it. She happily said yes, because she was glad to see you following her- and the doctor’s- orders, and then she proceeded to ask you how your day had been as she changed it. Her touch was even more delicate than Loki’s, and she even took you out for some ice cream after at your favorite place.
The third day, you asked Wanda to change it. She also said yes and used her powers to change the bandage so she wouldn’t hurt you at all. Let’s say, she’s the best bandage changer ever. She talked to you about her upcoming plans with Vision- dates specifically- and she asked you what outfits she should wear.
Today, the fourth day, you’re attempting to change them yourself. Nat would be pissed if she saw you looking in the mirror, trying to wrap the still fresh wound. It’s nearly impossible and your skills aren’t showing right now. Just as you’re about to huff and give up, there’s a knock at your door. You mumble a small “come in” and the person slips the door open quietly.
You don’t look over, as you’re still trying to wrap the stupid white medical wrap on your wound, but you then hear them close the door. They don’t say a word though, and you’re beginning to think that you’re alone, that is until he speaks. “Sorry i’ve not come around, just figured you needed some time. You- you need help?” You turn to look at Bucky once you drop the wrap again, and you sigh. You see that he’s holding some purple flowers in a small bouquet along with a card.
You nod, annoyed at your failed attempts, then he places the flowers along with the card down onto one of the small tables within your room. He then pads on over to you and picks up the wrap. He makes sure it’s not dirty and then flips it over so the side that hit the floor isn’t on your lightly covered wound. “Should’ve just asked some one, genius.” Bucky mumbles as he gently begins to wrap the medical cloth around your wound, unlike the others he wraps it around your waist. “I have for the past three days, didn’t want anyone’s help today, dumbass.” You reply shortly.
You hear him scoff, then you look at him. His hands are working delicately on your wound- he’s being as careful as he can be, even when he’s being a dick- and his eyes are focused on what he’s doing. His tongue slips out and wets his lips every now and then, and his brows are furrowed in concentration. This, this is another time where he looks absolutely breathtaking. His hair looks like it’s been neatly brushed right before he came into your room, and his stubble isn’t as heavy as it was the last time you saw him- nearly a week ago. He must’ve shaved recently, but why do you care…????
He leans a bit closer as he wraps it around your waist once more, then he takes some medical tape and tapes down the wrap. “That okay? Not too tight, right?” His voice brings you back to reality, out of your thoughts, and you nod, “yeah, it’s good. Thank you. Flowers for me, Romeo?” You ask with a point of your index finger and a small chuckle before you slip your shirt back on over your head. “Yeah, uh…Nat told me you liked purple best so….” Bucky rushes to pick them up, then he’s pushing them to you with a slightly shaky hand.
If you weren’t studying him so much, you wouldn’t have noticed the way his other hand becomes stuffed into his pocket, or the way his hand slightly shakes, or the way his eyes will not make contact with yours. “Thank you, again. Why’re you here though?” You ask a bit bitterly. “Just wanted to check in on you, came by the other day but i heard you busy with….Loki, so i decided to wait a little longer. This was all my fault anyways so….” He trails off his words again and you nod, “I mean, maybe if you start watching my back shit like this wouldn’t happen.” He let out a dry laugh and Bucky gives you one of those fake quick smiles.
“I do watch your back, all the fucking time. I just- i didn’t have time to warn you.” He shrugs and hangs his head down. “Oh, be a bit quicker next time then.” You give him a shrug this time along with your snarky remark and then you turn around, beginning to walk to the small kitchen within your room so you can place the flowers away. “You know, can you not be an ass for five god damn seconds? I’m really trying here.” You stop in your tracks and immediately place the flowers, along with the card, down onto the small, granite counter. “Me? Me being an ass? What about you, huh??? The first day we fucking met you were so fucking rude to me for no reason! You didn’t even give me a chance to talk to you, to introduce myself, nothing! What did i do to you, Bucky!? What did i fucking do?!?” You yell the last sentence and Bucky’s jaw clenches. “You didn’t do anything.” “Exactly, i didn’t do shit!” “Let me finish, please.”
You stay quiet, hands by your side as you wait. “You didn’t do anything, that was all me. That was all my fault. But i learned very quickly that i regretted my decision and i still do today. We probably could’ve gotten along so fucking well, but i messed that up the day i locked eyes with you and then walked away. I thought i would be better off not getting close to you, but it has hurt us both in the end worse than i ever could have imagined. You’re hurt physically and me, emotionally.” You glare at Bucky, not seeming to understand him. “What are saying, Bucky?” Your voice echoes through your room with question, yet bitterness. “I’m saying i’ve been a dick because i knew that if i didn’t keep the god damn act up, then you’d be pissed. You’d probably be so confused as well and not want anything to do with me once you’d found out i didn’t have a real reason for walking away and treating you so poorly. I know it doesn’t make it any better right now, but i’m sorry. I tried to make you jealous with all the girls and the date at the gala, even a couple of months ago when i lied and said i’d found a girl that i really liked. They were all just to get to you, to maybe have you come to me. It’s wrong i know, again i’m sorry. I just- the other night at the gala, i didn’t even know the girl, didn’t do anything with her. All i could think about was you, but then you and Loki- I saw you two, and talked to the two of you. It got me, jealous. I knew i needed to fix things soon, but i didn’t expect all of this to fucking happen. Because I’ve seen the way you two look at each other, then i heard him in here the other day, and my heart dropped because he made you laugh and i’ve never been able to do that because i’m an idiot- and an asshole. But i’m so fucking sorry. I love you, and the whole situation scared me the other day when you were bleeding out in my arms against my chest. It scared the fucking shit out of me. I’ve not felt fear like that in a long fucking time, y/n. I thought i was going to lose you.”
It takes you a minute to process all of what Bucky’s saying, but you finally get it. “Bucky, i wouldn’t have been pissed- where is your damn mind at?” “How could i have been so sure?” “You could’ve just asked?!” It goes quiet within the room, but you speak up again. “And Loki and i are just friends. I wanted to make you jealous too. It worked by the way, the girls. Yeah, it worked. But him and i are just friends; really good friends. The way we look at each other is nothing, i can assure you that.” You walk closer to Bucky, a slight pain shooting in your side makes you groan.
“Hey, you okay? Here, sit down. I knew i shouldn’t have started this. Damn it, i’ve got you too worked up.” Bucky rambles out. “Bucky, shut up. It’s fine. It’s just a little pain, it’s nothing you did.” You do sit down on your bed with him beside you to help ease his worries, but you continue afterwards. “I wish you would’ve just told me. I could tell it in your face that day that you cared, just didn’t want to say anything about it. Figured it might’ve just been a silly little realization that you’d never want to talk about. But….” You take his hand in yours and squeeze it, “I love you too, Bucky. I think i’ve been in denial for a while about it, but i’m ready if you are?” You smile at him and he returns it. We’re talking about an ear to ear muscle hurting grin on his beautiful face. “Of course i’m ready, doll. Please, you call the shot. Where to first? Or do you just want to rest? I understand if you-.” “Bucky?” “Yea?” “Please, for the love of Thor, shut up. I’m okay.” You chuckle a bit and a deep blush crosses his cheeks.
“If you’re still willing, i’d love to go for some Chinese food?” Bucky looks at you again, and a gleam appears in his eyes. “Of course i’m willing, but you have to let me tote you to the car.” You huff out in fake annoyance, your eyes rolling a bit too at his words. “Okay, Bucky. You can tote me.” He then gets a bit giddy, almost like a toddler that’s just received a new toy, and he presses a small kiss to your forehead. “Okay, good….can i carry you into the restaurant too?” You laugh at that, “sure Bucky, but you better place me down as soon as we get into the doorway. I don’t want attention on me, i don’t like that type of stuff.” “It’s a deal, doll.”
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Series summary: Tied up in the criminal world your godfather has built, you have no reason to leave, until you find one in the man they call Southpaw.
Pairing: boxer!Bucky Barnes x Reader
Word count: 1,740
A/N: We’re getting somewhere! Thank you all again so much for reading and enjoying this series. 💜 Divider by the amazing @firefly-graphics
Sam Wilson is an impeccable fighter. Surprisingly quick on his feet given his broad stature, he moves around the ring with ease, controlling the space and leading the fight. He lets his opponent tire out, giving them ample opportunities to think they have the upper hand as they continuously swing, their punches only connecting with the air around them. When he’s ready, Sam will land a quick one, two to the unsuspecting opponent, often earning him a knockout win in the first few rounds. Muhammad Ali once famously said float like a butterfly, sting like a bee, a line so true to Sam’s own fighting style.
But in addition to being a great boxer, Sam is an even better trainer. He’s patient, understanding, and doesn’t take shit from anyone. Bucky is both grateful and irked by this.
The first few weeks of training with Sam consisted of Bucky showing him his fighting techniques, his preferred moves, and what his weaknesses are. Luckily for Bucky, his weaknesses seem to be Sam’s strengths. Despite originally thinking he didn’t need a trainer, Bucky would admit Sam has shown him some worthwhile moves and has helped to improve some of his own he thought were faultless.
Sweat trickles down his back and builds along his hairline. A few stray pieces of hair fall from the low bun Bucky has pulled at the nape of his neck. His muscles scream in agony, exhaustion beginning to settle in as Sam pushes Bucky to his limits. Sparring with Sam always keeps Bucky on his toes.
The loud bang of the entrance door rattles through the air, and Bucky falters in his movements just the slightest, earning him a soft hit to the ribs.
“C’mon, man,” Sam heaves, beads of sweat dripping down his temples, “you gotta block.”
“I am,” Bucky grunts in response, but stumbles again and Sam sighs in frustration.
“Alright, let’s take five,” Sam states, standing upright and beginning to pull at the velcro of his boxing gloves.
Bucky drops his gloved fists, momentarily scrunching his eyes closed as he takes a deep breath, willing some of the exhaustion to leave his body. Removing his own gloves, Bucky reaches for his water at the corner of the mat, and when he stands, that’s when he spots you. The water bottle is lifted slowly to his lips, Bucky’s eyes never trailing from you.
Eight times. This is the eighth time Bucky has seen you since he started training almost two weeks ago. A few times he’s seen you around the gym while he trained with Sam, twice while you sat in your office and he passed by on his way to the locker room, and once while he held the door open for you as you left. He can still distinctly hear the soft thank you that fell from your lips as you passed by, sweet like sugar and played on repeat.
And after every opportunity he gets to see you, the pull inside him intensifies. The smolder of curious wonder and desire sparking to life each time, burning him from the inside, and screaming for him to do something.
He never misses the quick glances you give him, either. Your smiles always on the cusp of being something more than just friendly acknowledgments, and it’s enough to convince Bucky you’re just as intrigued by this enigmatic attraction as he is.
But then Bucky is snapped out of his daze at the sound of Sam’s voice.
“Huh?” Bucky asks, only recognizing Sam was talking but lost on the context.
“I said, five minutes are up.”
“Oh,” Bucky replies, turning his attention back to you as he takes a final swig of water.
Sam walks up to where Bucky still stands at the edge of the mat, a slight dip in his brow as he studies the new Southpaw. He folds his arms over his chest, his bulging biceps visible from the red cut off shirt the wears. With his focus still on you, Bucky misses the way Sam’s vision follows his own line of sight. Concern settles over Sam’s features when he realizes Bucky is watching you with a glint of awe, lighting up the bright cerulean.
“No way, nuh uh, nope.”
Sam takes several steps back away from Bucky, his head shaking at every word.
The stern force behind Sam’s voice finally pulls Bucky’s attention back to his trainer, confusion evident on his face.
“What?” Bucky chuckles, sealing his water bottle.
Pressing his lips into a hard line, Sam is unimpressed with Bucky’s ignorance. “I told you to stay away from her.”
Bucky barks a loud, sarcastic laugh. “I am!”
“I’m serious, man,” Sam warns, pulling his boxing gloves back on. “You don’t want to get caught up with her.”
Rolling his eyes, Bucky places his water bottle down and picks up his own gloves. “I assure you Sammy, nothing is going to happen.”
“Don’t call me Sammy.”
Still unconvinced, Sam warily watches as Bucky replaces his boxing mitts, sneaking a final glance in your direction.
From across the gym, you can feel a pair of ocean blue eyes on you, and there’s a fluttering of excitement in your belly at the idea of it. You’ve been at the gym almost every day since James Barnes started training and fighting for your godfather. Before, you came twice, maybe three times, a week to finish payroll or collect money from the safe. But now you’ve got an ulterior motive to make more frequent appearances at the only other place on this planet you despise.
Knowing how dangerous your godfather can be, and with the memory of his previous warnings to stay away from his fighters, you’ve tried to make your reasons for coming to the gym so frequently as unsuspicious as possible. But even with the fear of being called out and the possibility of uncertain consequences incessantly nagging at the back of your mind, it still isn’t enough to keep you away from the new Southpaw. The risk very much worth the reward of getting even just a glimpse of him.
And you get one. Even from yards away, his stunning features are always blinding. The buildup of sweat glistens across hard muscles that look to be carved from marble, illuminating the various blackened designs running along his left arm. Straggly pieces of dark hair fall into his face, sticking to damp skin, sometimes getting caught in the light scruff that speckles around his sharp jaw. An Adonis of a man, a walking work of art.
A quick peek of striking blue eyes is the last thing you see before disappearing to your office.
Hours later, the glow of your desk lamp bathes you in a warm, yellow light that induces a small headache as you catch up on work. Now that you’ve decided to spend most of your time in this office, you’re still getting used to the effects of not having any windows to offer a small respite from all the unnatural lighting.
It’s late and you know there are probably only a few fighters left in the gym. Sam came to bid you a goodnight almost an hour ago, along with a warning to not stay too late and to get home safe. He’s always been kind to you, and you often think if you didn’t have him around, you probably would’ve gone insane a long time ago.
The sound of the locker room door opening then slamming shut catches your attention, the ripple of hope that it’s him quickening your heart rate. And then he appears. Walking past your open door and you silently watch him through the window of your office. He wears a white t-shirt, a stark contrast to the black, intricate tattoos along his left arm. His long hair brushes over the tops of his shoulders, dampening the fabric, evidence of the shower he just took. The thought of him being completely unclothed in the other room just moments ago creates a dull throb between your thighs and you briefly squeeze them together for some relief.
Then he shoots you a glance before disappearing behind the other side of the wall, and you’re woken from you trance.
The call of his name is almost desperate sounding, and you inwardly wince from embarrassment. But then he’s reappearing in your doorway and you feel like you’ve forgotten how to speak. Wide, almost panicked eyes stare at him as he waits for you to say something. Your mouth opens then closes several times, like a fish on dry land, but nothing comes out.
“Did you call for me?” He finally asks, a hint of amusement in his tone. The size of his frame nearly takes up the entirety of your doorway, and it’s just another fact that has you lost in everything that has to do with him.
“Yes,” you breathe, chest deflating from the breath you were apparently holding. A small smile begins to spread across your lips as you’re thankful you’ve found the confidence to finally speak. “Yes, I did.” Tearing your gaze from him, you open a drawer to your right, pulling out a sheet of paper. “I have your check here. I just need you to sign it for me.” A pause before you add, “please.”
Raising his brows, he nods in understanding before entering your office. You pick up a pen, and hold it out for him. Silently, he signs the document, the muscles of his forearm rippling under taut skin at the movements. When he’s finished, he hands you the signed check followed by the pen, and as you reach for it, you can’t help the light caress of your fingers over his hand.
It’s soft, warm, and the touch is even more electrifying than you could’ve imagined. A pleasant shiver creeps up your arm, sinking into the flesh and finding its way deep inside, unlocking that little piece you thought would never see the light of day.
Bucky stands before your desk with a pounding heart and the lingering sensation of your touch on his skin, and it’s in that moment he decides he can’t hold back anymore. Saying fuck all to the threats and warnings from Sam, Bucky takes one of the biggest risks of his life, almost as risky as jumping out of a helicopter flying 50 feet in the air.
“Would you wanna get a drink with me?”
Part two // Part four // Masterlist
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You’ll Be Back.
Summary : Bucky tells you to leave him all the time because he knows you’ll come back. Was he wrong this time?
Toxic Bucky Barnes x Reader
Warnings : Angst, toxic Bucky, mention of alcohol, language
Bucky would get home from work around 8-11 pm when he gets off at 5, his excuse was that he lost track of time during his training sessions, then after training he would go out with Steve making him late.
The first week he told that story you skeptically believed him but after the second week you knew he was lying.
The third week Bucky stopped sleeping in the same bed as you. He would go to the guest room and sleep in there. His excuse was that he didn’t want to wake you.
The fourth week you were tired of his bullshit excuses. That’s when the fighting started. The fighting only escalated over time.
You had told you were leaving him multiple times now. You would go stay at a friends house for a day or two and come right back to him. You hated yourself for it, but you loved him too much.
The last fight Bucky and you had was the worst one yet.
You left for 2 weeks this time. You had stayed with Leo, one of your close friends from high school. Some how a picture of you and Leo had been sent to Bucky. So you got a text from him that you needed to get home right away.
You decided you had to deal with him at some point, so you drove to your shared home with Bucky.
Once you stepped inside you saw that the house was a disaster. The whole house smelled of alcohol. You saw Bucky in a deep sleep on the couch. You went straight to your room and started packing up all of the things you could.
You had got everything that you possibly could in a suitcase and we’re just about to write Bucky a note when you heard a voice come from the doorway.
“Well look who’s finally home,” he said with a roll of his eyes. “So who the fuck is Leo hmm,” he asked in a low voice.
“Nothing to worry about James.”
“Your a fucking slut I know you fucking cheated on me, don’t act so fucking innocent y/n.” You could smell the alcohol on his tongue.
“Are you fucking drunk James.”
“Why the hell do you have a suitcase packed,” he asked. “That’s what I wanted to talk to you about. I have a place arranged for me, I’m gonna have someone pick up the rest of my stuff as soon as possible. I can’t take this anymore Buck I can’t.”
“FUCKING LEAVE THEN Y/N. you’ll be back.”
That was the last I heard from her. She never came back to me.
Why you might ask? The winter solder was slowly coming back, I didn’t want to tell her about that side of me so I didn’t, instead I stayed away from her and made her leave me.
I love you Y/n.
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His Saviour 🦹♀️ Civilian!Steve x Superhero!Reader
Summary: You're New York's most beloved superhero, protecting the people from lowlife criminals and danger. One guy in particular seems to always find himself needing to be saved by you, and pretty soon you strike up a flirty friendship with your damsel in distress. If only he knew your true identity, and that you're actually that girl from work that he can't fucking stand.
Content Warning: Superhero!Reader x Civilian!Steve Rogers, Villain!Winter Soldier, canon-typical violence, injury, fluff.
"And the Incredible Starling has done it again! Last night, New York's favorite hero saved a school bus of 25 kids on their way back from a football game after it swerved off a cliff. Not a single injury was sustained, and-"
You turn off the television with an eye-roll, making Bruce throw up his hands. "Hey, I was watching that!" He groans, frowning at you. "What's your problem?"
"Aren't you bored of that stuff?" You ask him. "There's trouble in the city, and then Starling saves the day. It's the same shit every week."
"She's just jealous, Banner," Steve Rogers says with a smug smirk as he walks into the break room, his arms folding across his chest. "Y/N knows that no man she dates will ever find her as hot as he finds the Starling."
"Screw you, Rogers," You spit, glaring at him. "You've never even seen her full face."
"Oops. Did I hit a nerve?" He asks with a faux look of innocence before shrugging. "Don't need to see her face. Have you seen that ass?"
Grimacing, you pick up your coffee and storm past him while uttering, "Pig."
As you leave the break room, you hear his hearty laughs echo after you, making you grit your teeth. Steve Rogers is the fucking worst.
You'd quit your job if it wasn't the only one you could actually hold down, but you have to withstand seeing his annoying face and hearing his insufferable comments for 8 hours every day.
"Got any more leads for me, Y/N?" Mrs. Romanoff asks you as she leans over your desk. "Managed to figure out Starling's secret identity yet?"
"Not yet," You say, knowing full well you'll never be able to give her what she wants.
She groans before rolling her eyes. "So annoying. What does she get out of keeping her real name a secret?"
"Uh, privacy?" You suggest with a shrug. Mrs. Romanoff sighs and storms away, leaving you to work on finishing an article all about Starling's latest save.
Your night job is much more fun.
Fighting crime came naturally to you when your powers kicked in. You always knew there was something different about yourself, and on your 18th birthday, you found out exactly what.
You developed super strength, superfast healing, and your favorite of all: the ability to fly. Enhanced beings are rare all across the world, so you see it as your duty to use your powers for good. Thus, the existence of The Incredible Starling. She fights crime, saves lives, and is cleaning up the streets of New York one lousy criminal at a time.
Tonight is going a little slow. So far, you've saved a cat in a tree and a little kid who was choking on a lollipop. Not exactly the riveting stuff you're used to, but there's always nights like this every now and then. Since your nemesis, the Winter Soldier, disappeared, things have been a little quiet.
Soon, though, you feel that little spark. The tingling sense that someone wrong is afoot.
Shooting up into the air, you fly towards the bad vibe, until you reach an alleyway outside a bar. There's a group of rowdy men yelling, and you realize they're having a fight. There seems to be around 8 of them all ganging up on one guy, which doesn't sit right with you.
"Hey!" You yell from behind them, standing with your hands on your hips. They immediately stop at the sound of your voice and turn around.
One of them snorts, looking you up and down. "Oh no, it's Starshine or whatever the fuck. I'm so scared!" He calls out sarcastically.
"You shouldn't be scared," You tell him, taking a threatening step towards him. "You should be terrified."
Before he can retort with another insult, you fly over and kick him in the chest, sending him backwards. Most of his friends run off, but some of them stay, reckoning they can take you on. You quickly prove them wrong, debilitating them within seconds.
Once they're all groaning in pain on their backs, you make your way over to the poor guy they were all beating on. He's sitting against a wall, his eyes wide with awe as he stares you down. His lip is bleeding and one of his eyes are swelling up and holy fuck is that Steve from work?
Ignoring the desire to beat him up, too, you hold out your hand to him. "You okay?" You ask, treating him as politely as you treat the other civilians. You aren't Y/N right now. You're Starling. And you have an image to upkeep.
"I'm great," He says weakly, taking your hand and getting up to his feet. "And you- you're Starling."
"That, I am," You confirm with a laugh, wondering whether he'll compliment you on your ass or do something else to reinforce how pig-headed he is.
"Thank you for saving me," Steve says, an earnest look on his face. You've never heard him speak so softly, and you've definitely never seen him smile so kindly, and it makes you feel like you're in some weird alternate universe.
"That's my job," You tell him, patting his shoulder. "Want a lift home?" You're not giving him any special treatment; you offer all the civilians you save a ride home after you've done the saving, seeing as a nice flight typically cheers them up after what is usually a traumatic experience.
"Absolutely," Steve breathes out, the corner of his mouth quirking up.
You let him climb onto your back before you jump off the ground and shoot off into the night sky, hearing him whooping in your ear. It's impossible to hold back your laughs at his excitement, and you purposely do a few unnecessary loops and turns to pull out his gasps.
After a few minutes, you land on his balcony, and he laughs with delight before frowning. "Wait- how did you know where I live?"
Fuck. You can't exactly say you remember it from the work get-together he held at his place last year. "Uh... I'm Starling!" You say, holding up your hands. "I have a sixth sense about that sort of thing."
"Wow," He breathes out, his chest heaving. "That was incredible- you are incredible, Starling."
It feels weird to be hearing something other than an insult from his mouth being directed to you, but you gladly accept it. "No problem, Steve." Shit.
His eyes widen. "How do you know my-" He stops midway before grinning. "Ahhh, that sixth sense again, right?"
You nod quickly. "Right. Well, good night, Steve."
"You're gonna leave already?" He asks with a slight pout, the light in his eyes dying a little.
You cannot stay. It's Steve fucking Rogers; the man who makes your life a living hell. "Yep. More people to save. Bye!"
With that, you fly away, not giving him a chance to get another word in.
The next day, you're expecting there to be a huge fanfare at work. You can see it now: Steve surrounded by all your coworkers, telling them all about how Starling saved his life and how her ass looks even better in person. He has probably already written a front-page article all about it, embellished to make himself look a lot better, of course.
But when you walk into the office, there's nothing special going on. There's no crowd around Steve's desk, no hubbub amongst the others about how Starling saved one of their own. He's sitting there, typing on his laptop, his face blank as though it's just another day.
You can't help but approach him, curiosity getting the best of you. "What happened to your face, Rogers?" You ask, smirking slyly at him as you take in his black eye and bust lip. "Finally got what you deserve, I see."
He rolls his eyes and looks up from his laptop at you. "If you must know, I got into a bar fight."
"Wow," You drag out with a laugh. "You macho man, you. Let me guess; I should see the other guy?"
"Actually, yes," Steve counters sternly. "And if you don't get out of my personal space soon, I'll show you exactly what happened to him."
You're surprised he hasn't mentioned Starling, and you're not sure how to feel about it. "Is that a physical threat, Mr. Rogers?" You ask him with a gasp, placing a hand on your chest. "Am I going to have to report you to HR? You know Tobey won't be happy with you - it would be your second strike."
"Fuck off," He groans, leaning back in his chair. "I've had enough of your face and grating voice for the rest of the week. Bye, now."
Fucking ungrateful piece of shit. Should've left him to be beaten up a little more.
Carnivals are supposed to be fun. Rides, junk food, and rigged booth games. For you, though, the carnival weekend only means stress and responsibility.
The Chief of Police personally hired you to keep an eye out for danger today, and you could do with the extra cash. Seeing as the rest of the NYPD see you as a no-good vigilante who needs to be detained, your work with Fury remains a secret. Good thing keeping secrets is your forte.
The carnival goes relatively smoothly for the most part, until that little spark goes off and you feel a bad vibe stronger than you've felt in a while.
Suddenly, while you're strolling through the crowds in your civilian clothes, a blood-curdling scream sounds out from behind you. You immediately run in that direction, sneaking behind the booths to rip off your shirt and jeans, revealing your suit. Taking off your hat, you pull out your mask and slip it on, before reaching the source of the panic.
When you see him, your heart stops.
It can't be.
"Winter Soldier!" You yell, infuriated.
He's pummeling through the vendors and destroying their booths, which explains all the screaming. You zoom over to him, pulling back your first before landing it straight onto his face. He flies backwards, crashing to the ground and rolling around.
"I should've known you'd be back," You grumble as the swarms of people run away, screaming for their lives before you continue. "Like clockwork, you can't help but be an annoying pain in my fucking ass."
He gets back up to his feet, and you notice that his metal arm looks much more advanced - and a fuck-ton scarier - since the last time you saw it. Shit. This could be bad.
"Hello, Star-Thing," He greets you coldly, his blue eyes the only thing making him look remotely human. His mask covers the bottom half of his face, but you can hear his words clearly. "Ready to die?"
Without any hesitation, you rush over to him and engage him in combat. Admittedly, the arm has always scared you, but you do well to keep yourself collected and in control.
You lift your leg up to kick him but he grabs it and pulls you forward, causing you to fall onto him. He then sends you straight to the ground and your grip on his shoulders pulls him right down with you.
"Give up," You say with a strained voice, kicking his torso repeatedly.
He tilts his head and you see a mischievous glint in his eyes. "I'm the one on top of you."
With a deep breath, you hit his shoulder and push him over onto his back, before punching his face repeatedly. "Not anymore, bitch!"
After roughing each other up some more, you feel him attempting to rip off your mask. Motivated by your need to keep your identity a secret, you fight harder, relishing in his grunts and groans of pain.
"Your tin arm is no match for my natural strength," You say arrogantly, hoping none of the civilians can hear you seeing as it doesn't really fit into your friendly personality to be so egoistic. "Tell me, Soldier; what lab were you created in?"
"Fuck you!" He spits weakly, kicking you in the chest and sending you falling into a stall. Pressing a button on his metal arm, the Winter Soldier stumbles backwards before a black motorbike zooms through the crowds and parks up right next to him. He shoots you a wink and clambers onto it. "Until next time, Star-Thing." With that, he drives away, speeding through the carnival with no concern for the pedestrians.
You jump to your feet and are about to fly after him, when you hear the weak cries of some people trapped under the debris of a stall the Soldier destroyed. Rushing over, you lift up a wooden pillar, resting it on your back while allowing the civilians to escape. "Everyone good?" You ask through heavy breaths, scanning them all up and down. "Anyone hurt?"
Just as you drop the wooden pillar back to the ground when the last person crawls out, you hear a weak groan from behind you. The booth that you were thrown into has crumbled to the ground, and you're horrified to see an arm sticking out.
You rip up the pieces desperately, hoping they're not badly hurt seeing as it was your body crashing into it that caused the booth to collapse. The groans become clearer and you finally see a head. You place your hands under the man's arms and pull him out while he whimpers.
"Shit," You whisper, getting onto your knees beside him. "Are you alright, Sir?"
"My arm," He whimpers. "I think it's broken."
Cursing under your breath, you brush his hair out of his face- only to recognize him immediately.
"Steve?" You ask with disbelief. What are the fucking chances?
"Starling?" He responds quietly, a weak smile on his lips. "We gotta stop meeting like this, baby."
Ignoring the butterflies the stupid pet name gives you, you take him into your arms before flying up and towards his apartment. Yes, Fury will be pissed at you for leaving without debriefing him, but he can wait.
"What a coincidence, huh?" Steve said with a laugh as you lay him down on his couch. "I don't think you've ever saved anyone else twice."
With a raised brow, you smirk down at him. "Yeah? And how would you know that?"
He gives you a sheepish look. "It's sort of my job to know. Steve Rogers; journalist for the Daily Bugle. But I swear, I'm not one of the ones that try and make you out to be a bad guy."
Chuckling, you get down on your knees beside him and pay his shoulder. "Don't worry about it, Mr. Rogers. The Bugle is usually pretty nice to me, compared to some of the other papers in this city."
He winces again, reminding you of his injury. Immediately, you rip the sleeve of his shirt open, your heart skipping a beat when you see his tense bicep. Since when was he so fucking ripped?
"I think I should take you to the hospital," You comment. "Just to be sure. I can't really tell what your injury is just from looking... or feeling."
"No, please," He whines. "I hate hospitals. I don't think it's broken; I was just being dramatic."
You narrow your eyes at him. "Are you just saying that to get out of seeing a doctor?"
Shaking his head adamantly, he stretches out his arm. "See? I'm fine. Just a little bruised. Nothing a kiss wouldn't make better."
Almost choking at his words, you get back up to your feet. "Noted. I'll send someone over."
"Kidding," He says softly, chuckling, before looking up at you. "Doesn't it get hot, wearing a mask all the time?"
Truthfully, you don't even notice it anymore. It only covers the top half of your face, so you can breathe just fine. "I guess my cheeks get a little heated," You say with a shrug. "Usually, I'm too focused on the bad guy to notice."
Steve sits up slowly, his eyes widening. "That- that was the Winter Soldier, wasn't it? He's back."
With a regretful sigh, you sit next to him and nod. "Yes, it was." You're not sure why you're still here, but you're enjoying Steve's presence. It's eons different to how he acts at work with the real you, and he's admittedly a pleasant person to be around when he isn't hurtling insults at you.
"What are you gonna do?" He asks with concern. "Last time, he swore he was going to kill the mayor."
"I assure you; Mayor Stark will be just fine," You insist. "I'm gonna do what I do best. Protect New York."
A smile grows on Steve's lips as he stares at you with adoration. "You're, like, incredible."
Is he leaning in? Fuck, he's leaning in.
Aaaaaaand that's your cue.
"Well, I should get going," You say quickly, standing up. "I'm glad you're okay, Steve. But please; stop getting yourself into trouble!"
He grins and stands up too, towering over you. "If it means you're there to save me, I'll get in trouble every day."
Pointing a finger at him, you slowly start walking backwards. "That better be a joke, Sir. Bye, now!"
Work the next day is hectic. Everyone's rushing to get the best pictures and coverage from the carnival disaster yesterday, while you've decided to do an article on the stock market instead.
When your phone rings, you hold in your grimace. "What is it, Fury?" You ask, looking around to make sure nobody is in earshot.
"We have a problem," He tells you in a panic. "The Mayor wants to meet you. Not just Starling; you."
"What?" You hiss, your eyes narrowing. "What the fuck does that mean?"
"Stark thinks he should be privy to your true identity," Fury goes on to say. "As the mayor, he believes it's his right."
"Well, did you tell him that I don't compromise my identity for anyone?" You ask, a deep frown on your forehead. "Not even the President thought herself to have the right to know my true identity. If I can sit in the Oval Office suited up, why the fuck can't I do the same in Stark's tacky lounge?"
"Calm down," Fury insists, making you roll your eyes before he continues. "I told him you'd be open to a dinner-"
"But you can keep your mask and suit on. I just thought I'd give you a heads up. I didn't want you to be surprised if he asks you to take the mask off."
"Fuck's sake, Fury," You grumble, rubbing your face. "When's this dinner happening?"
He clears his throat before answering you. "In about 6 hours."
You are pissed. You knew you shouldn't have agreed to work alongside a police officer, and now you're being forced to go to stupid dinners with stupid men. Of course, working with Fury has its benefits - he keeps you in the loop in the NYPD's plans for city security and offers you good money when he wants you to attend events or act as extra patrol.
Tony Stark is an appalling showman, and an even worse mayor.
"It's such an honor to have you in my home, Starling!" He exclaims warmly, leading you through the large corridors and into the main room, where the rest of the dinner guests await. You recognize a few political faces as well as Fury, who sips a whiskey with his eyes trained on you.
"Thank you for having me," You reply politely, having to upkeep your girl-next-door reputation no matter how much you want to just grab that bottle of expensive-looking bourbon from the bar and chug it down.
"There's someone I'd like for you to meet," Tony tells you with a proud smile, wrapping his arm around a handsome brunette and pulling him closer. "This is my son; Bucky."
His eyes are the first thing you notice. Blue as the sky, they're bright and familiar, though you peg your recognition of them to the fact that you've met thousands of civilians and it's likely that you've come across the same shade of blue once or twice before.
Bucky looks you up and down with awe in his eyes. "Wow. It's really you."
His voice is the second thing that throws you for a loop. Though calm and friendly, it gives you a bad feeling in the pit of your stomach. Putting it down to nerves because of how aesthetically pleasing he is, you ignore your gut and plaster on a smile. "It's lovely to meet you, Bucky."
"Well, I'll let you two kids get acquainted," Tony says, clapping his hands together. "I need to go check on dinner."
Once he's gone, Bucky grins at you. "It really is amazing that you're here," He reiterates, before his eyes widen when he notices someone behind you. He quickly pulls on their arm and pulls them closer, and you almost gasp when you recognize him. "This is my best friend, Steve."
You and Steve share a long look, a sheepish smile on his lips as his cheeks tinge pink.
"When he heard about the dinner Dad was throwing for you, he begged me to let him come," Bucky tells you coyly. "Begged me."
"Shut it," Steve grumbles, playfully hitting his chest before giving you a bright beam. "Great to see you again, Starling - and I'm not a stalker or anything, I swear."
With a laugh, you place a hand on his bicep. "Don't worry about it, Steve. I'm happy to see you again."
You don't miss the way Bucky teasingly nudges Steve's stomach, while Steve himself looks bashfully to the ground. You're not used to him being so shy and cute and-
Wait. Cute? This is the guy that would happily piss in your coffee if he had the opportunity. Get a grip.
"Would you like a tour of the house?" Bucky offers brightly, before slyly adding, "Get away from all the old guys for a bit?"
"Absolutely," You agree, letting him and Steve lead you out of the lounge.
Bucky explains the origins of some paintings on the wall while you half-listen, trying your best to figure out where you've heard that damn voice before.
Once you reach the large library, you can't hold it in any longer. "Have we met before?" You ask him, narrowing your eyes at him.
He looks taken aback by your question, before chucking. "Uh, no, I don't think so. You meet many one-armed brunettes in the city?"
One-armed? Glancing down, you see that the left arm of his jacket is covering nothing; there is no hand peeking through the cuff. "Wow- how did you- actually, I'm being intrusive, I apologize," You change your mind, shaking your head.
Steve has picked up a book and is flicking through it, and you find yourself wondering what he enjoys reading, and what he'd sound like reading out to you.
Get a fucking grip.
"No, it's fine," Bucky insists with a warm smile. "I served in the army and sustained a pretty gnarly injury. Ended up having to get the entire thing amputated."
You wince at his words, but attempt to hide the second-hand pain from your face. "Wow. That is... that is something."
He grins, "The lack of an arm gets me more girls than having two ever did, so it has its benefits."
Steve snorts from behind Bucky, shaking his head. "Idiot."
You can't help but get a niggling feeling of suspicion in your head, but you do well to ignore it. His eyes, his voice, the arm...
No. There's no way.
"Well, Dad'll go ballistic if we're late for the appetizers," Bucky says with a playful eye-roll before patting your shoulder. "Come along, Star-Thing."
The breath is stolen from your lungs. Your eyes are wide and unblinking as he casually walks past you, leaving you frozen. Steve offers you a small smile, but you can't find it in you to reciprocate it.
Holy fuck. The Mayor's son is the Winter fucking Soldier.
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Absolution // Bucky Barnes
So, I hit 100 followers! This is a little cringey but that’s a big deal to me, considering I sort of jumped on Tumblr as a joke just to put some of my writing out there. Anyway, thank you all for reading and following and AHHHHH. This is kind of a 100 Follower Special I guess... Enjoy!!
Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader
Word Count: 1326
Warnings: Hallucinations (?) of blood. Mention and vague description of panic attacks. Angst. This is just pretty sad, not gonna lie.
Summary: After all these years, James Buchanan Barnes finally falls apart.
James Buchanan Barnes did not believe in absolution; he didn’t believe in many things at all. And he felt that he deserved every single terrible thing that had happened to him, simply because he hadn’t been strong enough to overcome it. And despite the desire to wash his hands of his past, blood stained his palms, leaving crimson smears wherever he went.
So he started wearing gloves; soft, leather ones that Steve had gifted him a few years ago that had sat in the back of his closet until one evening in May, when he finally fell apart completely. There was a hole in his bedroom wall that was a constant reminder of his weakness, but he’d since covered it with a generic canvas he’d bought for a few dollars from a garage sale.
If there was one thing that Bucky was good at, it was hiding his sorrow, his pain, and his fear. His fear of himself. His fear of never being remembered as anything but a killer.
Steve, Sam, and even Tony, had tried to pull him away from the path of self-destruction he was slowly heading towards, but it was no use. And yet, these people were still his companions, friends even, and he felt that he owed them something.
That’s how he ended up in the elevator at the Compound, adjusting his gloves until they sat right, tucked neatly under the sleeves of his jacket. The doors slid open before he reached the floor he’d selected, and he saw you there, fiddling with the dainty bracelets on your wrists.
“Oh, hey,” you said as you stepped into the elevator. “I didn’t know you were coming tonight.”
“I wasn’t planning to, but Steve kept nagging until I gave in.” The smile that crossed his lips was easy, almost natural. Faking them had become effortless.
You smiled in response, not missing the emptiness in his eyes, but you kept your mouth shut as the doors slid open once more. Bucky stepped out immediately, disappearing into the crowd of snobby people in suits faster than you could blink. Swallowing the lump in your throat, you exited the elevator and searched desperately for a familiar face.
When you spotted Bruce hovering in a corner, you almost let out an audible sigh. He was clutching a glass in his hands, running his finger around the rim absentmindedly, but he perked up when he saw you.
“Look who decided to show up,” he said, smiling widely.
“It was a spur of the moment decision, I could hear the chatter and excitement from my room and I just had to see what all the fuss was about.” Every word was dripping with sarcasm. Casting a glance around the crowded room, you almost rolled your eyes. You recognised a few of them, but the others must be some random business people that Tony knows.
“Can we get some, like, music playing or something?”
Later that night, music had finally begun to play. Some people were swaying as they spoke to one another, but other than that, it was about as exciting as watching grass grow. You’d whispered as much to Bruce, who had since disappeared somewhere, and had been roped into a conversation about just how fascinating grass-growing actually was.
It was nearing midnight and you were heavily contemplating going back down to your room and hopping into bed, when somebody hurried past you, shoulder whacking against yours. Turning, you watched the person retreat through a door on the other side of the room, knowing it led out into the hall. It took you a moment, but you recognised the jacket, and the gloves. Glancing back towards where Bucky came from, you spot Steve across the room, shaking his head and muttering to himself.
Brows furrowed, you twisted the bracelets around your wrist. Once. Twice. Three times. Then you set off towards the door that Bucky disappeared through. Windows line one side of the hall, opening out onto a view of the grounds and the city skyline on the horizon. In the darkness, the lights of the city are like a smattering of stars. Along the other side of the hall, in evenly-spaced intervals, were doors. A few were conference rooms where you’d talked over mission reports with Steve, Tony and Rhodey numerous times, while the others held complete unknowns.
So, starting from the very beginning, you poked your head into each room.
“Buck?” You whispered into the darkness, never getting a response. When you reached the final door, you tested the handle and found it locked. Puzzled, you knocked softly.
Nobody came to the door, but you could hear harsh muttering from within, muffled by the wood of the door. Get it off. Get it off.
Before you could stop yourself, you summoned a sliver of your power, pressing your hand to the brass knob. Closing your eyes, you let your power flow through your fingertips, slowly undoing the lock mechanism. With a click, the door swung open.
Your gaze immediately found him in the dimly-lit room. The headstrong soldier, reduced to a quivering mess, his back against the wall across from you, staring wide-eyed and terrified at his hands.
“Bucky, what’s wrong?” You crossed the room, dropping down to your knees before him. He didn’t respond, too lost in his panic that he couldn’t see or hear anything, save for the blood on his hands.
Bucky couldn’t stop the hammering of his heart against his tightening rib cage. He stared down at his gloves, the leather glistening, coated in red. So much red. The metallic scent of blood forced itself upon him; gagging, he tried to blink away the tears that had begun to well in his eyes.
“Get it off. Get it off. Get it off.” He chanted, getting louder and louder each time around.
His name was far-off, almost as though he was hearing it from underwater.
“Bucky, there’s nothing there.”
Closer now. He could almost picture the owner of the voice. He knew her, he was sure of it. But he was so lost, he couldn’t find her. He couldn’t see anything except red.
Hands slipped into his own; dainty and warm, and he paused. He could see you now, kneeling before him, eyes wide and full of panic.
“Please,” he whimpered. “Get it off.”
You glanced down at his hands, momentarily confused, but tugged the gloves off regardless. You pressed his hands together, wrapping your own around them, and hugged them to your chest.
Bucky could feel your heartbeat and it slowly pulled him back down from his panicked high. Tears flowed freely, dripping onto the leather of his jacket with soft plinks. He leaned forward, defeated, collapsing into you. His head nestled in the crook of your neck, whole body shaking with the force of his sobs, you couldn’t stop as your own eyes began to sting.
“You’re okay,” you whispered, running a hand through his hair. Bucky sobbed harder.
“What’s wrong with me?” He choked on his words, trying and failing to steady his breathing.
“Nothing is wrong with you.”
You’d never spoken truer words. This was the result of all of Bucky’s pain that he’d tried so hard to hide, to push away, finally catching up to him. And as he crumbled, falling apart completely, he laid his soul bare for you to see. Millions of shattered pieces sewn into the tapestry of his subconscious. Broken. A boy; dealt an unfair hand from the start. A soldier; just wanting to prove himself. A man; blaming himself as though what he was forced to do was his fault.
“Please don’t leave me,” he whispered against the skin of your neck.
Pulling him tighter, you fought the urge to scream, to lose control, to break anyone who took part in the shattering of the man in your arms. Instead, you pulled away, only to press your forehead against his.
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pairing: (demon!bucky barnes x fem!reader)
summary: she was never supposed to get involved. but she had to in order to save him.
for @rogersaurora 2k challenge
word count: 1.9k
warnings: lots of mentions of blood. suicide? it's a sacrifice tbh, lots of angst, death, rituals, magic. i wrote this in the middle of the night so it kinda sucks lmao, i think that's it but lmk if i missed any, ll
prompts: "there's blood everywhere." & demon!au
request status: open
bucky barnes masterlist
a simple pulse. one beat after the next in a steady rhythm, the soft sound of the red liquid flowing through a person’s body, all of it being powered by one single organ. 80 milliliters of blood per one beat. that’s nearly 7,500 milliliters per day, he’d figured out one afternoon while waiting to be summoned.
barnes was never one for worrying about the status quo, or following orders for that matter. he’d rebelled a million times before and he’d do it a million times over. but something about this time was different. something was off. he could feel it in the low pulse that vibrated through his ears.
barnes hadn’t possessed a heartbeat in over ninety years. something that seemed so silly to say out loud, so odd. he could’ve been human if it weren’t for that.
if it weren’t for the fact that demons weren’t allowed souls. or if souls weren’t attached to the muscle pumping blood in the middle of our chest. so, no, barnes hadn’t had a soul since 1945.
it didn’t bother him much, though. he didn’t pay any mind to it for the most part, even if he could remember the feeling of adrenaline coursing through his veins as a child. even if sometimes when he looked at her, when he laid his head against her chest, he wished that they could switch places for a night.
he wished for a lot of things. some attainable, most not. he wished for things any creature in his position would wish for; power, money, glory, the works. he had to if he wanted to feel as though he fit in with those around him. but he couldn’t care less about those things.
barnes spent most nights wishing for a love, ones like he remembered from the books his mother would read him as a child. he wished for a family, like the one he grew up with. barnes wished for something that could truly make him feel alive, something that could make him human.
he’d heard of a ritual, something that was near impossible. something that required a sacrifice of sorts. something that required a human, with a soul and a heartbeat and all of the things that he wished he had, something that required love.
impossibilities were always his specialty. it was practically in the job description. summon a demon. make a deal, get anything and everything you’ve ever hoped for. be ready when they come to collect in ten years.
that was just the way it worked, and it never once bothered him before. not until he met her.
she was young, maybe twenty, when she went to the crossroads for the first time, tears in her e/c eyes. she knew the risks, she’d heard the stories, but she didn’t care. not when she was losing the only thing she had left.
each crossroad is assigned to one particular demon. this one, at the crossing of stark and rogers, just outside of brooklyn, was assigned to barnes.
once you’re summoned, you have to appear, but you don’t have to show your face.
and he never did.
not when she came back the next night, or the one after that, or even for the next three months. he’d sit off to the side, somewhere where she couldn’t see him, and he’d watch her. he’d listen to her broken sobs and her quiet pleads. he’d listen to her doubt herself and curse out god, any god, for putting her in this position.
it wasn’t until the final night, when he could hear that her heartbeat was much dimmer than usual, that he showed himself.
she’d gone through the ritual with the right ingredients, reopened the cut on her hand with a pocket knife and muttered the incantation before dropping the black cat match into the bowl. she stood, wrapping her hand in a handkerchief a she sighed quietly.
“you’re dedicated, i’ll give you that,” barnes spoke from his place against the light post a few feet away, his face hidden in the darkness of the broken lamp. “what do you want? money? love? fame?”
“bring him back,” she begged, her eyes watery.
“i can’t save the dead, y/n,” he muttered quietly, “that’s our only rule.”
“you’re a demon,” she spat, “you’re seriously worried about the damn rules?”
“look,” barnes shrugged, pushing himself from the post, his hands buried in his pockets, “i can’t help you. so, do you want something else?”
“kill me,” she spoke after a beat of silence.
“i can’t do that either,” he shook his head. he was lying, of course, something he’d mastered over the decades. something that came as easily to him as air comes to living creatures. “not unless you make a deal.”
“fine, i want a million dollars. now, kill me,” y/n took in a raggedy breath, “please.”
“that’s not how it works.”
“then how does it work?!” she threw her arms up in exasperation, moving closer to him. “i’ve come here every single night for months and you don’t show up until it’s too late.”
“i’ve been here with you every night,” barnes sniffled, rubbing his nose slightly, “right under that post.”
“demons have a lot of powers, y/n,” he started, his face softening, “one of those powers is being able to see a person’s future. the end of their story, so that we can know whether or not we need to whisper into your ear and get you to make a deal with the devil.”
“-i’m not done,” barnes pursed his lips slightly before pointing over at a nearby bench, moving to sit on it, “i saw your story the first night you summoned me. your ending.”
“and?” y/n pressed, her eyes burning from the tears that were threatening to spill from her waterline. “what happens?”
“that’s the thing,” he looked her dead in the eyes, his own full of something he hadn’t felt in a long time, “i couldn’t see it like i would normally be able to. it was distorted, broken and warped and- there’s blood everywhere.” barnes paused for a moment, watching her as he tried to recall it perfectly, “death, i assume, with that amount of blood, there has to be.”
“and what about me?” the concern was threaded through her features.
“gone,” he whispered softly, “not dead i don't think. just-not there.”
“how is that possible?”
“i don’t know,” barnes lied again. he knew good and well what it was, but he would never let it happen. he couldn’t. he could barely understand why she’d ever do something like that in the first place. “some other crossroad demons caught word of you, and the premonition that comes with you. there’s stories about people like you, every demon within the state, maybe even the country is gonna wanna get a first-hand look at you, up close.”
“what do i do?” she questioned, her brows furrowed tightly.
“there’s nothing you can do but wait,” he shrugged, leaning back so that he could stretch his arms out over the back of the bench. “you won’t recognize them, they won’t talk to you, they just wanna see it. they aren’t allowed to socialize with you unless you’ve gone to their crossroad first.”
“and this is yours,” she clarified.
“this is mine,” barnes sent her a half smile. “i have a first-come first-serve kind of claim on you, if it makes you feel any better.”
“it doesn’t,” she laughed, the sound completely foreign even to her own ears. god, had it really been three long months of nothing but pain?
that was the beginning of their story, the beginning of something so tragically beautiful that he had no choice but to let the sequence of events play out in the end. it was up to the fates, something he’d forever feel broken about. something that would forever haunt him, though he had absolutely no role in the ability to stop it. this wasn’t part of his story.
the premonition revealed more and more of it’s true nature to barnes as the date approached. it was tricky that way, making sure that he’d never have enough time to prepare, to counteract it before it occurred.
and maybe he could’ve stopped it, maybe if he wouldn’t have been so stubborn. but he was stubborn. exactly one year from the first summoning, from the sight of the original premonition, she went back to that crossroad.
exactly as the book told her to.
the book. the book of life, the book of nightmares, of dreams, the book of the damned. a different name for every use, though, barnes had always called it the book of lost souls, seeing as it was the reason they’d been misplaced in the first place. young souls, aching souls, naive souls, just itching for a way to feel alive again.
and she’d gotten her hands on it, she’d snuck it out from right under his nose.
she read the incantation, placed the ingredients in the bowl, but instead of cutting a slit down her palm, she put one down the length of her non-dominant wrist. just as the book told her to.
the fire in the bowl started by itself, her box of matches sitting cold in her jeans as she fell back, her head spinning from the sudden flash along with the increasing loss of blood.
barnes appeared under the streetlamp as he normally would, his head feeling as if he were frozen in time. “no,” he breathed out as he stumbled over to where she was lying in the street. “no, y/n! tell me you didn’t do it!”
a tear slipped from her eye as she looked up at him, “you wouldn’t make the deal with me, so i made it with them.”
“you don’t understand what you’ve done,” barnes gritted through his teeth, his own eyes welling as he tried to stop the steady flow of blood.
“but i do, my love,” she smiled softly, “balance, an eye for an eye, me for him.”
“why? why would you do that?”
“you have your wishes, i have mine.”
“y/n, no,” barnes begged quietly, his chest aching when he realized that he could no longer hear her pulse. he pulled her against his chest, his sobs wracking through the air until he heard it.
a steady rhythm, the soft sound of blood flowing through someone’s body.
it took a long moment of silence before he realized that the soft thudding noise wasn’t coming from her, but himself.
in that moment, that everlasting moment, he remembered the truth.
he remembered her. but not the way that she was in his arms, not from the same time. from before. he remembered the way that she could light matches without touching them, the way that they would sneak around the movie theaters and mess with the projectors.
he remembered the crash. his first night in hell. he remembered his last words to her, “the world’s gotta have balance.”
symmetry, something that she’d always done her best to capture in the doodles that she’d give him on their dates.
the quiet fluttering caught his attention, his head snapping over to where the book was sitting, a single page flapping in place. he picked it up slowly, ignoring the red tint that painted his hands as he read the first line on the bookmarked page.
all things in this universe must have balance. for something to be returned, something must be removed.
new bucky tags: @heartsaved @multiplums @ronimina @infernal-fire @glossierkisscs @sohosteve @leyannrae @multifandoms1019
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DON’T MAKE ME HURT YOU
pairing: bucky barnes x reader
summary: you are an ex super soldier that worked for hydra, just like bucky. you and him end up getting captured by hydra on a mission, and while he is healed from the trigger words, you are not.
warnings: mentions of torture, blood, knives, fighting, mentions of murder. idk just think of everything you can in a hostage situation and this is that lol.
authors note: request are open for all the characters in my bio! send some my way!
DON’T MAKE ME HURT YOU.
you and bucky were captured, a problem you could have avoided but since he was so worried about you getting hurt all the time, they caught you at a weak moment. now you and him sat in chairs next to each other, tied down by leather straps, and metal restrictions. you sighed, out of anger and boredom. your ass hurt, you had been sitting there in silence for hours, and you just wanted to leave. “have you found a way out, james?” you called him by his first name. “james?” he asked, his eyebrows furrowing. “that’s your name, isn’t it?” you replied to him in an annoyed tone.
“are you mad at me?” he asked you, only for you to role your eyes. “you’re really mad at me right now, y/n?” he scoffed. “you’re so worried about me all the time, and your worry gets us in trouble. you know i can handle myself.” you explained. “i have a reason to be worried about you.” bucky retorted back. “name one.” you said, looking around the room for a way out. he fell silent. “right.” you laughed, annoyed. bucky didn’t want to say anything to hurt you feelings, but the fear and anger got the best of him.
“i’m worried about you right now.” he admitted. “why? this is a simple hostage situation, we break free, and escape.” you shrugged, trying to show him how calm you were. “y/n.” he said sternly, catching your attention. “what, bucky?” you asked. “the trigger words.” he replied simply, making your heart stop for a second. why would he even bring that up? “is that your sick plan to get us out of here?” you asked him. “no, y/n. they still trigger you. and we are in a hydra base, a place who trained us to be soldiers. the same people who used those exact words.” he caught your attention.
“who’s to say they won’t do it again?” he asked you. “wakanda helped me, i’m okay.” his heart felt heavy and guilty. “you’re not.” his words stung. he was right. it could be a matter of minutes before you’re back to hurting people without a choice. hearing their innocent begs and pleas for help again. you were freshly saved from hydra, and you were blipped before you could get the help you needed. then the battle against thanos happened twice, and they threw you on this mission for backup.
so here you were, a crazy killer who could snap at a simple string of words. then, the door slammed open, making you jump from your daydream. “well, well, well. if it isn’t hydra’s best super soldiers.” the man said, walking in slowly and sitting in a free chair in front of the two of you. you fell silent, looking down at your lap, your heart pounding. bucky stared the man in the eyes, anger inside of him. “who the hell are you?” bucky asked, unable to recognize his face. he must be new, maybe trained during the blip.
“my name is professor bloodstone.” he smirked, leaning back in his chair. “but what does that matter, you’re going to die soon anyways.” he said. “a little birdy told me the trigger words doesn’t activate the winter soldier in you anymore.” he pushed out his lower lip, faking a pout. “they never did anything for you, y/n. did they?” the professor looked at you. “leave her alone. you can take me, i will work for you.” bucky bargained. “oh but that’s gonna be a no.” the professor shrugged. “i can’t trust you unless i can control you.” you were shaking at this point, your heart pounding.
“please. i can’t go back.” you shook your head. you had been free for so long, you couldn’t go back to killing people unwillingly. “i’m sorry, princess.” the professor teased, standing up from his chair and walking out of the room, the door slamming shut behind him. you look at bucky, your hair falling in your face and tears stained you cheeks. “i can’t do this again, bucky.” you sobbed, his heart breaking. “it’s okay, you’re gonna be okay.” he tried to calm you down, but he knew in that moment there was nothing he could do.
suddenly, his chair unlocked. he quickly stood up, trying to pull the locks off your arms as you cried. “god damnit! i can’t get these off.” he said in a stressed tone. “bucky, look at me.” you said, and he stopped in place, looking you in the eyes. “you have to kill me. i can’t do this again, i really can’t.” you explained to him. he shook his head. “i’m not killing you, doll.” he put his hands on each side of your face, holding your head up. “you’re strong, y/n. you are gonna be okay.”
then, the professor appeared in a viewing room above, a window separating the three of you. “are you ready, soldier?” he asked over the intercom. “leave her alone!” bucky yelled at him. the professor smirked, before opening the red book, and read off the words. “longing.” he stated firmly. “please..” you begged, tears streaming from your eyes faster. “bucky please do it.” you asked in a rushed tone. his heart pounded faster. “rusted.” the man said clearly.
your head tilted back, hitting the cold metal head ready behind you. bucky looked around for anything he could use to throw at the window. “seventeen, daybreak.” the man continued, earning a scream from you. you couldn’t do this, big again. you could already feel your body lose control. “furnace, nine, benign.” he continues. “STOP!” bucky yelled, walked back over to you. “baby, you’re strong. you can beat this.” he encouraged you. “homecoming.” he smiled.
sweat dripped from your forehead, making you hair cling to your face. the mix of tears, sweat, and blood made you feel so scared, gross, you just wanted to go home. “one.” there was one word left, and you let out one last cry. “hold onto yourself, y/n.” he pleaded with you. “i’m sorry, buck.” you cried. “freight car.” he finished, and you felt yourself slip away. bucky stood back slowly, staring at you with fear, his chest heaving up and down.
“solider?” the professor asked. your eyes slowly opened and you looked up at bucky. “ready to comply.” you replied to him, earning a sinister smile from him. bucky continued to look at you. “doll, i know you’re still in there.” he tried to get you back. “soldier, i just have one thing for you to do before we begin our work together.” bloodstone explained. “i want you to kill the winter soldier.” he replied, and the locks around your wrist opened, marks around your wrist prominent. you stood up from your seat, and walked towards bucky.
you went to punch him, but he caught you wrist with his metal arm. he looked at you in shock, before you stared back with a lifeless look. you punched his side, starting the fight. “don’t make me hurt you, y/n.” he warned. “who is y/n?” you asked. your kicked him in the chest, making him fly back into the wall. you walked towards him, but he kicked you leg making you fall to the ground. bucky quickly stood up and went to hold you down, but you stood up soon after him, swinging towards him. he dodged it, swinging back at you.
bucky and you swing back and forth, dodging each hit, until you managed to grab a knife from the side table in the corner of the room, and swung that at him. you tried to hit his side, his throat, but each one he blocked. “y/n, come on!” he yelled at you, before you kicked him in the back of his leg, making him fall to his knees. he jumped forward and tackled you to the ground, you tried to fight back but his metal arm had a firm grip on you.
he picked you up and put you in the chair, locking it on you. you yelled out in anger trying to break free, but couldn’t slip away from the restraints. bucky sat on the ground now, breathless. he needed backup, he couldn’t fight you, and the rest of hydra alone. “i’ll come back for you.” he whispered, before running out the door. he fought off as many hydra agents as he could, before finally breaking free.
he would keep his promise. he would be back for you.
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Nothing to Despair | 20. In the reflected sky
PAIRING: Soft!Dark!Bucky Barnes x Reader
SYNOPSIS: Bucky and a girl he never met before have to go undercover as married on a mission to Europe. He feels alienated in the modern world, while she goes through life alone and abandoned. Maybe they can find a new home in each other, but she’s not easily convinced.
CHAPTER NOTES: More angst, more smut. Assisted masturbation, creampie, slightly painful sex, sweet dirty talk (from reader) and generally the softest soft-domme!reader ever to be written, reconciliation, jealousy. Also, we get more insight into reader’s thinking and there’s a lot of sadness and dark thoughts.
Thank you for all your lovely comments! Beta-read by @offcast-plus1 <3
WORD COUNT: 6.2k
⸻ [MASTERLIST] [AO3] [TAGLIST]
I was the shadow of the waxwing slain
By the false azure in the windowpane;
I was the smudge of ashen fluff - and I
Lived on, flew on, in the reflected sky.
— Vladimir Nabokov, Pale Fire
He barely managed to get her back in bed, but she was too tired to fight and too sore to run away. Even Bucky had a hard time getting up, managing to wipe down her thighs and wash up a bit before curling back behind her. It was a while, an hour maybe, before she spoke again, to ask:
"What's the point of it?"
"It's a way to get closer to you," he whispered, pressing his lips to her shoulder blade. "Like kissing you. And holding you. And talking to you. And seeing you. That's why you like to be alone, isn't it?" She wasn't speaking or moving but he felt her pause, as if in thought, and then her head turned slightly in a mute question. "If people can't get close they can't hurt you. Is that it, doll?" The girl frowned and turned away again, letting her head sink back to the pillow. "I'll let you in on something: people don't have to be close to you to hurt you."
"If they do it from a distance, at least that's not your fault," she muttered.
"Alright. Why don't you stop talking around it and just tell me what's been bothering you?"
"You. You're bothering me."
Bucky sighed through his teeth and leaned over, grabbing her chin. "You know what I mean."
"It's none of your business," she hissed, throwing him a sharp glare, small and curled up as she was.
"You're my wife now, it is my business."
She instantly regretted saying anything and decided then and there to never do it again. Like every other needy person, he took everything, anything she said, and used it against her.
"Is it so hard to trust me that you won't even try?" he asked with a firmer grip. "You think you've come across worse people than I have? Even without counting Hydra, or SHIELD for that matter. Whatever kind of double-cross you want, I've had it," Bucky rasped, then with half a hesitation added "including from you."
He regretted saying it before it was even out, but searching her face he saw no changes. She kept the same frown and clenched jaw, looking neither hurt nor moved by what he said. She either didn't feel guilty, or wasn't sorry, and though he didn't apologise he softened anyway, hand moving backward to caress her cheek and brush the hair over her ear. Bucky sighed and pulled her back down, with himself slotted behind her again.
"I want to take everything you've got, doll, good and bad. And I want to give you everything I've got, good and bad… That's what marriage is supposed to be," he said as he started running his fingers on the surface of her arm. "Let me help you carry the bad stuff, sweetheart." But she kept quiet. "If nothing else, at least as a friend?" he tried. She didn't even move, except to clench her jaw tighter. "I don't like knowing you're like this, doll. I hate seeing you unhappy."
She could think of a hundred things to tell him; that she was happy before, that she'd be happy without him, that nobody could be happy for very long anyway, and that he should probably worry more about himself as he was the lonely and pathetic one.
They skipped out on lunch and stayed in bed together. Bucky held her tightly, caressing her now and then, kissing the back of her head, her neck, her shoulder… in the moments of pause between thinking of how he could use what he'd been through to help her. Thinking back to some books his doctor had him read, some strategies he was forced to go through in his therapy, thinking for the first time seriously about what, really, had led him to trust people again, and imagining, at the end of all of it, her loving him back.
She, with her back to him, stared out toward the window at the roiling sea, imagining what it would feel like to jump.
They washed up and dressed for dinner early. Bucky took them to the place she liked best — incidentally the most elegant and expensive — and it was quiet and selective enough for them to speak even in whispers, if they wanted, but she didn't have much to say. Neither of them had had a bite to eat since breakfast, but dinner was difficult for her. She ordered a bowl of soup and spent most of the time just running the spoon over its surface. And he hadn't missed how stiffly she walked, how delicately she sat down — most probably bruised a little bit.
Bucky finished his dinner and spent the rest of the time nursing a glass of whisky. He rested his elbow on the low wall of their booth and braced his temple against a gloved metal index, fingers moving across his lips absentmindedly as he watched her play with her cold food. He didn't want it to be like that, but he couldn't stand it anymore, couldn't keep waiting… however much he'd wanted to. Bucky meant what he said when he said it, during their dance at the hotel: that he would be there for her whenever she was ready. But faced with what that actually meant, he couldn't do it, he couldn't wait. He wanted her, so badly, and now.
"What are you thinking?" he asked in a low voice.
She was probably thinking that if he'd broken that promise, what else was he willing to break? If she'd been right about him once, what else was she right about? Bucky had hoped he was done with putting his own dark thoughts in other people's heads, fearing what they thought, wondering, guessing — which, as his therapist went to great lengths to explain, would always be worse than the reality. 'Course, his therapist had never met his little wife…
"Would it help to say I'm sorry?"
"I'm sorry anyway."
"You're not sorry that you did it," she bit back. "You're sorry of the consequences."
"Guess you're right," he sighed. "I'm sorry that you're hurting, doll…"
She looked up just once and melted his cold eyes with one sidelong stare. "You should've thought about that before."
Bucky clenched his jaw and took a breath. "I'll be more careful next time, alright?" he whispered, but she just cringed and looked back down. Next time…
"I want to go for a walk."
"Eat your dinner first."
They did take a long, sprinkled stroll on the deck afterward. She said the cold made her feel better, and walking helped too, so he couldn't complain. By the time they went back down to their cabin, it was late at night. The ship was normally pretty quiet, but it was quieter now than ever, the people around them all asleep. They stepped lightly through their suite and turned on just a couple of lamps, diffuse golden pools decorating the place against a backdrop of shadowed corners and a chorus of wisping sea. Bucky took off just his shirt before he stopped to watch her. She'd already undone her hair and it fell around her shoulders in that way he liked so much. She took her blouse off, then her skirt off gently, and sat down — on her own bed this time, which he didn't like. Before she got to do anything else, he was kneeling on one leg before her. She gasped as his hands gripped her calves, but soon returned to her stoic nature.
"Get up, Bucky," she sighed.
He brought her ankles together in his lap and massaged them slowly, keeping his eyes on hers. "Can I ask you something?"
"Can I say no?"
"You can," he smiled.
She pursed her lips, but finally said "Go ahead, ask. I'm curious now."
"Do you think I like hurting you?"
It took her a second to think it through before she answered. "I think you don't care, either way."
"Maybe I don't care as much as I should, but I do care," he said as he worked his hands slowly higher. "Do you like hurting me?"
"You are not exactly hurting," she narrowed her eyes. He kept watching as if she said nothing, caressing her legs lightly. "You're not being hurt, Bucky." He reached all the way to her hips, still waiting for an honest answer. "No," she sighed, "it doesn't make me happy."
"So what would make you happy?"
"And don't say letting you go, because that's not going to happen."
"That's not going to happen," he gritted out. "So, what would make you happy?"
She closed her mouth and looked at the space between them, finally considering his question seriously. "I need to think about it," she eventually said.
Bucky nodded and even smiled a little, his large grey eyes crinkling kindly, tired. His hands were now at the garter belt, playing with the suspenders, and he started to undo them one by one, peeling them carefully away from the edge of the stockings. There was a heat back in his eyes. His big rough hand, even the metal fingers, were deft with the little clasps, and it can't have been just from watching her put them on and off so many times.
"You're surprisingly good at that," she remarked in an icy tone as he rolled one stocking down.
"Am I?" he smirked.
"Perhaps not so surprising," she said, right before she kicked him in the chest. He fell back down more out of shock than anything, and then dared to laugh.
"Dollface, what did I do?" he asked from his sprawl.
"I can undress myself," she muttered, walking around him toward the living room. Before she was through the doorway, he had his arms around her waist and pulled her back in. "This isn't helping me do that thinking we just talked about," she growled as she clawed at his arms.
Bucky walked them backwards to his bed, rubbing his face into her hair and moaning at the scent. "Sweetheart… I can't believe you right now," he smiled. "You're not jealous, are you?"
"Over a mouth breathing mountain of manure like you? Never."
"Ouch," he chuckled. "You know the women you're jealous of are all dead, right?"
"Oh, is that so?" she giggled bitterly, and half-way turned around in his arms just to catch a glimpse of his face as she said "So I suppose it doesn't matter what Hamelin and I did before you found us."
His grin turned to a grimace and instantly he raised a hand to hold her chin. "Nothing happened between the two of you," he said with all amusement gone.
"Yes. But it's worth saying it to see how your face fell," she smirked. "And he's dead anyway, so it doesn't matter, right?"
He heaved a breath and shook his head. "That isn't fair, it's… That's different."
She tilted her head back, out of his grip, and smiled sadly. "You're right about that."
His hold was loose enough now that she stepped out of it. She sat back down on the bed and removed the other stocking while Bucky looked at her, still a little angry. "What's that supposed to mean?" he asked, hands on his hips, looking like he could fill half the room with his breadth and outrage.
What wasn't fair? That he'd won her? Would she really prefer that slimy, slippery snake to him? Weaker, smaller, unremarkable, who didn't know her, who could never give her half of what he could, whose mission it was to basically throw her away, who could never protect her or make her happy. A middling agent compared to him, Martin had been no match for Bucky, and Hamelin was no match for The Fist of Hydra, the Winter Soldier — was that it? Was that what she wanted? Was he just too soft? Was that why she preferred the metal arm?
And what did she mean, then, by 'different'? Bucky knew what he meant: his past girls were never a threat to her, they were long gone and he wasn't pining after any of them, so what was she worried about? Meanwhile, Hamelin — or rather, Martin — not only had the chance to take her away but was actually supposed to, and relatively recently too. Just because he was dead, buried, and decraniated, didn't make it any better.
"I meant exactly what you meant," she said evenly, then turned her dour face up to him and sighed. "I want get cleaned up and go to bed."
Her bare feet were braced on the floor, her hands braced on the edge of the bed, and she sat right in front of him in her lacy red slip, one strap off the shoulder, and… asked to go to bed with him. His rational mind said 'no, they weren't done talking', but his body said:
"Yeah, er… sure, g-go right ahead, honey."
Of course, he didn't know that she'd cheat.
Turning in bed sometime in the night, Bucky expected to wrap his arm around her but instead felt nothing, his hand falling as if through space. Feeling around, the bed was empty and cold. He raised himself up slightly on his arms to look around — her own bed, in front of him, was empty. Looking toward the door, there was no light on in the living room. He looked over his shoulder and finally spotted her: she was sitting by the windowsill, inside of its little alcove, crouched and on her back. Her feet were on the wall of it, her knees cuddled to her chest as she rested her forehead against the window, and looked out at the sky.
As soon as she heard him shift around in bed, she winced and tensed up. Oh no, here it comes. Turning her head and meeting his eyes, she reflexively straightened, sitting a bit higher. He's going to come over, she thought to herself. But he just turned and stretched toward the bed table, grabbing the watch to see the time. It must've been around 4 AM.
"You ok?" he asked through the gruff of sleep as he leaned forward on one elbow.
"Yes," she said, and cringed at the lameness of her own reply.
She'd been enjoying her time alone, at least a little bit. She just wanted to sit by the window and look at constellations again, even if these ones were completely different. But now he was awake and he'd caught her and he was definitely going to come and ask some stupid questions… But he just sighed and stayed mercifully where he was. Even through the dark and distance, Bucky saw the way she looked at him: legs tight, feet bent at the ankles and pointing toward the window, her face half-turned away while she watched him through the corner of her eyes. One didn't need to be a trained assassin to understand. So against his every instinct, he laid back down and turned around so that at least he couldn't see her — nor she him — and pretended to go back to sleep.
She was as surprised as she was grateful to be left in peace, but there was nothing for it now. He'd woken up, he'd seen her, and she couldn't focus anymore on anything other than the chance — the risk — that he could come over any minute now and… And what? Turning back toward the window, she tried to enjoy the view again, but she just kept feeling his presence from across the room, wondering now what he thought, what he felt — it was always like this, this always came with being seen. Everyone just had to have some opinion, and she couldn't help but care, and worry.
This is going to be the rest of my life, she bitterly thought. All her options of freedom, of going where she wanted, of being alone for days, of not having to speak to anyone for long blissful weeks, gone. It's always going to be like this.
Don't you like him even a little bit though?
That's not the point.
And he likes you…
That's not true.
She turned to look at him on the bed, his breaths deep and body still, all that hot skin above the covers and lean strong shapes beneath. His hair was a bit ruffled and just beneath the pillow she could see the metal arm curled up, hugging it in sleep. He was so tactile, so instinctively intimate, even after everything he'd been through — perhaps because of it. Bucky deserved to have someone nice… She thought over what he said earlier, 'what made her happy'. She couldn't remember many recent occasions of that, not significant ones at least: sure, a successful report was alright, the heartfelt thanks from a colleague was nice, and finding a favourite cake at a shop, or a set of bonbons in beautiful packaging, or seeing a kitty, or getting to pet one.
But those were just little pleasant moments that went away, they weren't the foundation for anything. And none of them involved any real intimacy — if anything all events of intimacy, from something as distant as just being at a party to being forced to hug someone, all of them left her feeling stressed, and inadequate, and sad, and took hours to recover from. She explored in her mind all the options of giving Bucky what he wanted, his payment for keeping her safe from SHIELD, but she couldn't imagine putting herself through any of it. She couldn't even fake it, the very thought got stuck in her mind. He wouldn't let her get away, he'd made that abundantly clear, and she couldn't bide her time with fake affection until he inevitably got bored of her. All it left her with were awful options: keep being miserable, or make him angry enough to throw her away and end up in prison. Or… ?
How else, how else to survive having to be his wife and give him what he wants when I hate it, I hate him… I don't hate him.
She sunk lower in the window's alcove and loosely hugged herself. The wedding ring nearly touched the glass, reflecting faintly back, and looking at it, she got lost in thoughts of that morning, when he'd made her his. How he looked at her, and how he touched her and held her and talked to her and kissed her, but mostly how he — She couldn't hold the memories for long without having to cover her face completely with both hands, then had to open her eyes and look between her fingers at the wall to distract herself, to stop herself remembering. And it wasn't just the shame of being seen and felt by a man, wasn't just about the utter meanness of him to do it when she told him 'no', wasn't even about losing that part of herself because she'd thought about it, too, with him…
An idea came, and her whole body shivered.
What if he really does like you?
There's no chance of that.
But then, with the cold ring brushing her face, right in front of her, inescapable, she thought of another way through this. She took a vow, after all, and he really was her husband. If she could do it as a job, as an obligation like any other, as a duty… Would it make her happy, to perform a duty? To fulfil of a noble vow, to sublimate it somehow for —
it isn't going to work it isn't going to work it isn't going to work
— for however long it lasted.
She sighed and looked once more at the back of him and, without thinking anymore, let her body raise her up, take her back to bed, and lay her slowly down. The mattress didn't even move as she inched her way to his side. Her forehead barely touched his back, and that was all he was waiting for as instantly he turned and wrapped his arm around her. His leg curled around hers, lips at her forehead for one long kiss, and after he was done, he rested his chin over her head and settled her comfily against his chest with one deep, contented sigh.
She woke up to bright lights and an empty bed. Cracking her eyes open, Bucky was nowhere in sight, and sunshine was pouring through the window. She checked the phone and saw it was 10:30 AM, and just then she heard noise coming from the living room.
"You up yet, babe?" he asked in a light tone as he wheeled something inside.
"What's that?" she rasped.
He brought it to the side of the bed and leaned down to kiss the top of her head. "Thought we might have breakfast in bed today."
Bucky had let her sleep in and called for room service again. He was clean and shaved and still in a bathrobe, with probably little underneath. And while she didn't exactly like how yesterday's breakfast ended, it was tempting to stay in bed.
"Can I maybe shower first?" she asked, then added "I'll be quick," realising he'd probably waited for her before eating.
"Sure thing, doll," he grinned.
As it turned out, Bucky had a reason for keeping her in bed. After they cleared out the coffee cups and the plates and boring newspapers, he cupped her neck and leaned it back and fell upon her with kisses, inching her own robe away and taking his completely off.
"Left me hungry for you after yesterday, darling," he whispered into her skin. "Wanted to wait a bit more, but…" Kiss after kiss, he worked his way lower as he held her ribcage still.
"Thought you'd had your fill…"
He raised his head enough to grin at her. "I'm just getting started."
"Bucky…" she whined when his hands, fingers spread and teasing, passed over her chest, his lips at her stomach. She had to call his name again to get his attention.
"What is it, doll?" he huskily asked with his mouth just above the surface of her skin.
"I'm still achy."
"Oh…" His hands went back down to caress her sides, up and down in steady motions, as he looked into her eyes and tried to calm his breathing. "It's ok…" he gently said and, as his metal hand settled a bit higher and the thumb moved left and right to tease the tip of her, he offered "Maybe we can try something else, if you want."
She only had herself to blame, and her newly formed and probably doomed dedication to the idea of duty. Two minutes later she was straddling him, one leg bent the other stretched beside him, her chest slightly above his, hands holding on to him by his neck while his teeth nipped at her shoulder. Her still-damp hair stuck to her back, but her front was burning from him. He wasn't doing anything to her, he just wanted to have her there for him to feel on top of his chest and stomach while he worked himself beneath her. His left arm was steady at her back, just in case she slipped lower than she wanted to.
"That's it, sweetheart," he murmured. "Just let yourself lay down on me…" His right arm and shoulder flexed with the movement, and slowly it moved her too, and as she allowed herself to lay a bit more firmly, like he said, the whole surface of his skin was teased. "Bit higher," he moaned, stretching his neck to reach hers with his lips. "Let me kiss you there…"
She pulled herself up the distance and leaned her head back, allowing him to place a suckling kiss over her throat. His teeth just barely grazed it, and she gasped. He felt her tense as if to pull away, and although she didn't move, he whined into her skin in protest.
"It's ok, it's ok," he tried to placate her, to place a few more kisses up and down her neck. "Don't be scared… Don't be scared of me."
She bowed her head and let it sink into the pillow, trying not to hear the sleek wet sounds behind, nor think of what the jerking motions of his arm meant. Each kiss he placed on her came as a surprise, each one made her jump a little, and each of his moans made her wonder if something was wrong, if she was a burden, if she made things worse, but they were only followed by more kisses.
Bucky raised his head from her and turned to whisper in her ear, pleading and hungry, "I need more." She almost turned her head, her cheek brushing his. "Talk to me, sweetheart…" He must've felt her choke, and though his arm didn't stop its rhythmic up and down, he added a more gentle "Can you?"
"I'll try…" she whispered back, still against his cheek and unable to look at anything. Maybe speaking would distract her. "I… I do want you to feel good," and she did mean it, she did want to help him, especially when he was being so gentle, so cautious with her, and of all the ways to be a wife this should be the easiest, right?
"Oh yeah, you do?" he asked with a smirk, and it wasn't necessarily just teasing because the prospect that she wanted him to feel nice, that she might even want to be the reason for it, was both exciting and rather new. And to hear it from her, who was still fairly innocent and untried by any other man, meant there would be a little less artifice there, a little more sincerity.
She raised her head to look at him and bit her lip as she looked into his eyes, nodding mutely at first, before she softly spoke "I do, I want to give you what you want. You're so good, sweetheart, you've been so good to me…"
He inhaled sharply, and though she was so quiet he might not have heard her if he was just a bit further, her words struck deep and stayed there. On its own, his grip tightened on his manhood, and he cradled her closer with the metal arm, feeling her soft and damp across his stomach.
"Is this what you wanted, darling?" she asked as she ran her fingers in feather touches down his neck, the inside of his arm, "You like it when I talk to you?", then up again and down his flexing chest, "you like it when I touch you?" stopping to flick and tease him there and make him moan almost in pain. Then she sunk her nails in and dragged down, breathing through her teeth to ask "Is this what you like?" and through his rambled pleas of —
"Yes yes y…"
— she asked in a cold low voice "You like me?" Why did you ask that?
"Yes, I… f— I love you." Oh no.
She tore her gaze away from his flushed and open face, away from those soft grey eyes that looked pleadingly at her, to look down between them, between their two chests and the parting of her legs, to where his fist was gripping.
"Darling," she cooed in a sudden teasing tone, so low and close and wet he could hear her tongue brush against her lower lip. "Oh just look at that…" With a purr, she turned her attention back to him and tilted her face as if for a kiss but instead only said, with a little pout, "it's no wonder you hurt me."
"I'm sorry, I'm so sorry," he panted and rambled heartfelt apologies, but lower down his arm moved faster, gripped harder, in a lovely simulation of how punishingly tight she'd been, what a perfect fight he'd had with her little body, and how satisfying it was to win. He'd never felt like more of a man than when he conquered her. "I didn't mean to hurt you, doll, I swear I never did…"
"Shhh it's alright," she whispered, cupping his face and brushing her fingers over his cheeks, the circles under his eyes, then smoothing out his eyebrows as she looked lovingly across his whole contrite face.
"I just couldn't… I couldn't help it, you —"
"No, don't say that…"
"You're so — oh s— so pretty, sweetheart, I wanted you, I want you, I couldn't help it —"
"Don't talk like that, Bucky," she begged, holding his face still in her hands as she let herself lay lower on him, her legs spreading just slightly, chest pressed against his, her lips almost to his own. He searched her face, mouth parting just in gasps and moans while he teased the tip of himself with his hand, waiting for her to find the words. "If…" she started with a sigh, and threading her fingers through his hair she looked into his eyes for the courage to admit, "Don't say you can't help it, it kills me, it kills me to think about…" And though he might not have understood, she could see in his face a sympathy with the pain he caught a glimpse of. "Be gentle with me or hurt me or do whatever you want to me, but I want you to mean it, alright? Want whatever it is, with me, just with me…"
"Just with you, doll," he promised, metal hand moving up her back to rest at the nape of her neck and hold her there. "My best girl, my own, my only…"
"Tell me you're mine." Her caressing fingers turned into fists in his hair and pulled his head back.
The possessiveness and pain only served to bring him closer, and through teeth gritted in unexpected pleasure, before her demand was even fully through her lips, Bucky answered "Yes yours, only yours, I swear it."
Her grip loosened in his hair and she rewarded him with a kiss, giving him her lips to soften his sighs against and bite and sip tenderness from, while her hands went down to frame his chest, bracing against his hot broad ribcage that arched with frantic breathing.
"I'm so close, sweetheart…" Bucky moaned, and looked with yearning down at her before he asked "Come closer, higher, let me…"
It was more difficult for her to find the courage for it, but remembering her earlier intentions, she moved up his body just the distance needed for his mouth to reach her chest. She braced her hands against the headboard as she held herself above him, her frustrated womanhood fevering away at the base of his ribs while she gave him more flesh to kiss. And all along her back, the metal arm held her — from moving lower, from moving away, from being forgotten — and it didn't even feel cold anymore. Every now and then it would fall all the way down to her thigh and pull her tighter against him, then go back up and caress the hair away from her neck.
"So close…" Bucky rasped, "so close you for, doll."
Her hand went down to grip his upper arm, feeling the flexing and tension and the hard push and pull, and her mouth, without permission, opened to breathlessly ask:
"You feel that?" She looked pointedly down to him, rubbing herself just slightly against him as her other hand relaxed around the bedframe enough so she could lay against him. "You hear it?"
Bucky looked into her eyes, dazed and blinded with pleasure, but he instantly knew what she meant. "It's beating so fast," he whispered, lips pressing kisses right at the centre of her chest to feel the frenzied flutters. His flesh hand moved in ever wetter thrusts while the metal wrapped itself around her, and holding her chest like a cherished box —
"It's beating just for you."
— he pulled her down and kissed her little heart through her ribcage.
She released a sigh and rested her head on top of his, nails sinking into the hard muscles of his arm, though it did little to ground her because all around her, she felt him. Her skin was teased to scorching, the heavy warm scent of him reached deep inside, whenever she opened her eyes she saw either his ruffled hair or his shoulder or arm or his chest or his eyes, and through it all, that constant backdrop of skin against skin, seeping.
His lips left her chest with a sudden urgency. "Doll, please, I need to…"
"Almost there?" she softly asked, looking in his eyes.
"Need to be inside you," he whispered, gaze flickering down to her parted lips. "Please, doll, tell me I can…"
"Just a bit," he husked. "Don't let it go to waste, now…"
"Still hurts", the girl whined, but looked at him as hungrily as he was.
"I'll give you just a little bit, sweetheart, come on… Try for me."
"Alright…" she relented, and allowed him to move her slightly lower.
"Oh, doll…" he moaned when his fingers brushed against her. "So swollen…" She hadn't just been teasing him, she really was still hurting, and he was now even gentler than she could imagine as he moved the tip over, and around, and up and down that dripping heat. "There you go, easy, thaaat's it," Bucky whispered as he eased her down, keeping his eyes on her face for any hint of pain. "Isn't that ok?"
"Yes…" she gasped, looking as ravished as he felt while she bit her lip and blushed.
"Now hold still, honey. So close so close… There it is, there we go, ah f—"
He barely slipped himself in her. Knowing he couldn't go any further destroyed him, but he stopped. "Good?"
She bit her lips closed and moaned, but kept looking at him. His flesh hand held him still, while the metal one pet her back to calm her. It didn't take him much, only a few more brushes of his fist along his length, and the contrast of the cold of the room with the heat of her, and within seconds he could barely keep his eyes open as he felt himself empty up into her. He could tell she noticed exactly when it happened too, her eyes widening and that blush heating up her lips and neck. But she didn't move away, she let her body be used.
Bucky swallowed his moans and looked at her the whole time, from the first rush to the slow drip of what was left… When he sensed it was done, he took himself out just as carefully and, with his arms around her, moved the girl back down on the bed. She barely touched the mattress when his lips were on her again, kissing her forehead gratefully and full of love.
They rested in bed for a while before getting cleaned up. He made sure she was ok, and she slowly felt her breath come back. Bucky arranged them in such a way that her head could rest against his flesh arm, while the metal one caressed her forehead and hips and any place that felt too warm and needed cooling. He tried not to think about the things she'd said, and by the far off look in her eyes, she was trying not to think about them either. If he started to hope now… He'd hoped before, and it never ended well. But there was something there, something just for him. If she could be so jealous and possessive and as murderous as he, in her own little way, at the thought of other women… It made Bucky's heart soar in such a way that any sexual pleasure paled by comparison. At some point, she remembered he was there and staring at her. She looked up at him through her lashes, but couldn't hold his gaze for long. Even looking back down wasn't enough, so she buried her face in the pillows.
"You alright?" he softly asked, brushing her hair away. She mumbled and nodded a bit. "Want some water?" Her face finally came back up, but she didn't seem too sure, and couldn't look at him again either. "I'll get you some."
Bucky got off the bed with almost a spring in his step and went to look through the minifridge. He poured some cold water in two glasses and went back to bed, propping her up a bit, and she downed the whole thing in one breath. The girl laid slowly back down while Bucky drank his own, but she didn't seem so pained this time; just careful… Once he was back with her, arms all around her again, he found he couldn't hold it in any longer.
"You were perfect," he told her. Immediately, she buried her face back down. "You still are."
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i loved you a lot,
but you loved her more
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r. mob!bucky barnes x reader | w. 3.4k | cw. nsfw 18+, minors dni, smut, mentions of violence, creampie, daddy dom, reader is a brat, alcohol consumption, loving degradation kink, some misogynistic behavior (not bucky), slut shame implied, a little bit of angst if you squint. | note. hello lovelies! I bring you some smut on this fine evening. this is a prequel to my Damn sociopath story; however, it can be read as a stand alone. this is just a little glimpse into who they were before they became the power couple they now are. enjoy! as always, be nice and tomen agüita💋
summary. On how Bucky introduced you to the mob life, and the obstacles you had to overcome to be together at last.
The moment Bucky took to meet his family, you were certainly expecting anything except this. He told you before his father had died, that’s why he took charged of the business at such a young age, he didn’t really have a choice. You also knew his mother died when he was little, not much was said about that, you could tell it was a sensitive topic for him. So, the only family he had was the woman his father married. She was the embodiment of the mob trophy wife stereotype, everything about her was immaculate and she had that smile that made you wanna slap her; even though you were sure that with all the Botox she had injected, she wouldn’t feel a thing.
You had been dating Bucky for a few of months now, he already wanted you to move in with him, but you told him you didn’t even know his family; even though you slept at his apartment all the time. Bad idea. He had no problem with introducing you, hell, he wanted everyone to know you belonged to him. So, he invited you to the Friday night dinner at his family’s house. Apparently, it was a whole thing, very classy, very formal, very much gave you anxiety. Bucky noticed this, and he made everything in his power to calm you down. The week prior you were spoiled to no end, if you thought this man was spoiling you before, you were wrong. He made sure you had enough rest, took you to your favorite places, restaurants, stores, everything and anything, it was all yours. He knew, however, that in the end you just needed him, so he would spend all his time with you, taking you everywhere and making a daily thing your habit of sitting in his lap while he worked at his office.
Everything was fine, truly, you felt safe and no matter what your fear said, the only thing for certain was that Bucky was yours and you were his, and that’s all that mattered. Come the dreadful day, you were pampered entirely; your skin was soft and your hair was shiny and you felt good as you stared at your reflection in the mirror. You were in your underwear, finishing the last touches on your makeup when you heard a whistle and saw Bucky through the mirror.
– The dinner’s cancelled, I have better plans for you tonight. – His voice was low as he approached you from behind, grabbing your hips and nuzzling your neck. You giggled as you closed your eyes and leaned on to his touch. Your bare back against his clothed chest made you shiver and rub your ass against him, making him growl and bite your neck. You were already covered in his marks, but he still wanted to give you more.
– Baby, I have to finish getting ready, I need to make a good impression.
– You always make a good impression. Why don’t you let me help you release some of that tension? – He whispered against your skin before turning you around and lifting you so you could sit in the counter. He kneeled in front of your open legs and spread a way of kisses in your tights, making your breath hitch the closer he got to your center – I can smell you, princess. Are you already wet for me? I’ve barely touched you.
His mocking tone along with his breath so close to your cunt made you whimper. Pouting, you grabbed a fistful of his hair and pulled him right to your core, rubbing his face against you before he growled and pulled away. Looking down at him, you gave him a smile as you licked your lower lip. The grip he had on your legs hardened and you moaned, that was certainly going to leave another mark.
– You’re being a greedy little slut, huh? I think I’ve spoiled you too much, I ruined you. You’re a brat now.
– I’ve always been a brat, and you love it. Now, why don’t you get up here and fuck me so we can finish getting ready?
Bucky clenched his jaw as his eyes darkened; he would never admit it, but he loved how forward you were. Especially because he got to fuck you into submission every time you pushed his buttons. Slowly, he got up and grabbed your neck harshly, closing the distance between your mouths. At the feel of his wet lips, you moaned something that sounded like his name. He roughly took off your panties, while you pulled down his sweats and thrusted into you. He didn’t prepare you and you were feeling the sting from being stretch so hard, but you didn’t care as you screamed out his name. Bucky saw as you threw your head back and licked the valley of your chest as he stilled inside of you.
By instinct you were trying to fuck yourself on his cock, but he was holding you so tight, you couldn’t move, all you could do was pout.
– What is it, princess? You were so bossy a minute ago, for a minute I thought you were in charge, but that wouldn’t be right. Now, would it? – By this point you were unable to form a coherent answer, all you could do was try to hold on to him any way you could: legs around his hips, nails scratching his back as you tried to pull him closer and whined. He looked into your half-lidded eyes and laughed. A low, cocky laugh that sent shivers down your spine and straight to your core. – Did I fuck you stupid already, baby? You’re my dumb little princess, aren’t you? You’re here so I can spoil you and use your body as I please.
Just his words were sending you so close; you were still sensitive from your morning loving session and it wouldn’t take much for you to cum. You knew he was close too; you could feel him throbbing inside of you. But you also knew him, and he wouldn’t move until you begged. So, taking a deep breath you were able to mumble against his lips a Please, daddy, I need you and God, that’s all it took. He was so in love with you, he would give you the moon if you asked him, especially while looking at him like you were at the moment; like he was the center of your universe.
To no one’s surprise, you arrived late to the party, filled with Bucky’s cum and covered in little marks that showed to whoever decided to roam their eyes over your body who you belonged to.
Walking in the mansion, you headed straight to the one person you were the most interested in meeting: your mother-in-law. She was a vision, long blonde hair, green eyes and a body that could make anyone cry, it was like a queen in her castle. The spotted Bucky first and jumped into his arms, he seemed a little uncomfortable and gently pushed her away while giving her a smile. After saying the proper hellos, he pulled you to his side and introduced you as his girlfriend.
If looks could kill, you were sure to have dropped cold right there and then. She quickly concealed her annoyance thought, and offered her hand for you to shake introducing herself as Debbie.
– I’m sorry, I wasn’t aware Bucky was bringing a friend today. – The title stinged a little, especially after Bucky introduced you as his girl, but you played along like it was nothing and gave her your best pageant smile. – I even made sure he had a date for the night! Oh, Bucky, you’re gonna love this. Ava’s here!
As Debbie looked around looking for Ava, you turned to look at Bucky raising your eyebrow and he just let out a sigh, kissing your temple he whispered against your ear It’s not what it seems, princess, I swear. Ava was introduced as Bucky’s fiancée and you almost broke the glass you previously had taken from a waiter. At that, Bucky was quickly to correct Debbie, it was just a tradition, an old pact their parents had done and neither of them had any intention of carry out. Before Bucky could continue the conversation, however, Steve called him about a situation with a business. So, that left you to listen to Debbie explaining to you how it was, actually, a done deal.
– He may be having fun now, but I’m sure you’ll understand, hon. This is just our world. Ava has even been saving herself for Bucky; all her life, she’s been waiting for him. They were just made for each other.
As you listened to her talk you could feel the nauseas taking over you, and had to take several deep breaths to not throw up all over her expensive dress. After a few minutes you simply zoned out, you smiled and nodded with every person that they introduced you, but you weren’t really paying attention. That’s how you ended up dancing with one of the stupidest of Bucky’s cousins.
There was something about him, you couldn't pin point exactly what it was, but it made you want to crawl in your own skin and hide. As he led you to the dancefloor your eyes wondered across the room, Bucky still wasn't back, so you were stuck dancing with his cousin. He positioned himself in front of you and held you to start the dance. The only problem was that his hand was currently grabbing your ass. Taking his wrist, you forced his hand up to a proper hold, but he just smirked and tried to lower it again.
– Don't touch me like that.
– Oh, come on, you’re practically begging for it since you met me.
You couldn't help but laugh at his comment, and it was so genuine that it made him take a step back. You were actually laughing at him, like he was some kind of a joke.
– You know, I've heard a lot of ignorant and just plain stupid comments tonight, but that, well that took the cake – As you brush off your dress, another laugh left your lips and you rose your eyes to meet his. The cold look you gave him took him by surprise and made him feel like you had grown a few inches, or maybe he just got smaller – Just so we're clear, the only thing I've begging for since we met is for you to shut up. Thing you are doing right now and I appreciate. Now, if you'll excuse me, I need to get some air.
Without giving him a chance to speak, you made your way to the balcony and took a deep breath as you laid against the parapet. What you didn't know, or didn't choose to notice, was that your little interaction was heard from a couple standing next to you and soon enough it reached Bucky's ears the news of your outburst.
Bucky wasn’t the first to find you, thought. A soft voice pulled you from your thoughts and you turned around to see Ava, she had an awkward smile on her face and was offering you a glass of champagne.
– I heard what happened, I thought you could use a drink. – As you took it, you thanked her and tilted your glass a little as to say cheers. She stood next to you and everything went silent for a few minutes. – He loves you; you know?
You were startled a little by her words and quickly turned to look at her.
– I can see the way he looks at you; everyone can. It’s rather sweet, I never thought I’d ever see him like that. – She chuckled slightly and tilted her head giving you a smile. – So, don’t listen to the whole we’re getting married. It’s just a tradition; one that Bucky hates, as a matter of fact, he always refused to the idea and a few months ago he personally called my dad and told him he couldn’t marry me, because he’d already found his girl. I’m guessing that’s around the same time he met you.
You couldn’t help the blush that took over your face as you bit the inside of your cheek. That did sound like your Bucky. Ava was really nice, and you both laughed at the expense of some of the most pompous people at the party. Half an hour later Bucky found you two joking like you were best friends. His hair was ruffled and his hand was covered in blood, it only took one look to know he had gotten in a fight and your money was on the idiot cousin. Excusing yourself, you approached him and grabbed his good hand. Before you could start walking, he kissed your forehead and your knuckles, making your eyes tear.
– What do you say we go get some food? This party blows anyway. – You gave him a smile and nodded, letting him take you away from the drama.
Everything was fine, until a few days later you received a call from your lovely mother-in-law. She wanted to apologize if in any way she made you feel bad, you just had to understand. Bucky needed someone pure for a wife, someone that could play her role the way she was supposed to. Even so, she specifically said Bucky and her agreed that you were simply too different from the rest of them. Listening to her you could feel your head pounding; this woman had to be kidding. Taking a deep breath, you told her she was right, you are completely different from her, and maybe that’s why Bucky didn’t seem to get enough of you, and hanged up.
You knew he would be upset, but honestly, you were pretty fucking pissed at the moment, so you didn’t really care. If anything, you were giving the people want they wanted. The rational side of you knew this wasn’t really Bucky’s fault. He hadn’t done anything other than having a shitty family. But he wasn’t dumb, he had to know what was happening. Or so you thought. Either way, as you made your way through the nightclub, you ignored the warning looks from the security guards. Usually, they pay you no mind; Bucky told them to look after you, but just incase someone bothered you. Today, however, you were wearing the most revealing outfit you owned and were walking straight to the poles where the dancers would perform every night. One of your friends, Wanda, was a lead dancer and the one helping you at the moment.
– [y/n], are you sure about this?
– Are you backing out now? – You half joked as your stomach tied in knots; this may not have been such a good idea after all, but now it’s too late to back out. Bucky was in his office upstairs, you knew he had a meeting tonight, and surely, the news of you being there had already reached him; it was just a matter of how long it would take him to get down here.
– I swear, you’ll be the death of me. What did you think you were doing showing yourself like that? What would everyone think if my girl is acting like a whore in front of everyone, huh? You’re mine!
By the time Bucky went down from his office, you had come down from the poles and were dancing with some guys that looked like they just came straight from the Country Club. They didn’t belong there, so, they had no idea who you were and Bucky’s no touching rule. They were rubbing against your body when you felt a hand pulling you away. The boys weren’t too happy with the interruption, and they yelled at Bucky to back off. He took his eyes away from you for a moment, stepped closer to the loudest one and with his free hand grabbed him by the neck and tossed him to the ground. He didn’t have time to deal with them now, so he ordered his men to do it. Meanwhile, he dragged you to his office and began to reprimand you until you interrupted him, letting your own frustrations out.
– But I’m not your girl! I’m not pretty and innocent, and saved up all for you and I wish I had. God… Buck, if I could, I would go back in time and save myself just for you. Heaven and hell both know you’re the only one that’s ever mattered. But I can’t, and that’s okay, because everything I’ve been through made me who I am. And I actually like who I am, I don’t want to be anyone else. If you can’t love me like this, then there’s no point in being together, because I won’t be someone I’m not. This is me. Take it or leave it.
Bucky was taken aback by your words; he had no idea you felt like this. To him, you were perfect. Hell, he thought you were more than he could ever deserve; and he thought he had shown you that. As his anger dissipated a sting of guilt took over and his hand reach out to pull you close, but you pushed him away with a sigh. He had never been good with words, the way he grew up it wasn’t exactly encouraged to share your feelings. He was a man of action, and now he was scared that wouldn’t be enough. His train of thought was interrupted as you sat on his desk and spoke up avoiding his eyes.
– Look, I get that you don’t like to share your toys; but I don’t see why you’re so mad. I’m not really yours. I’m just someone your passing time with for the moment. It’s not like you’re ever going to ask me to marry you, why do you even care what I do?
Now it was his turn to sigh, and as he put his hands on his hips, he stared at the ceiling like asking for some divine intervention. After a few seconds, he chuckled slightly and pulled a box from the pocket of his jacket.
– I’ve been carrying this thing around since the first day I saw you. I didn’t want to scare you, but I knew from the moment we met that you were gonna be mine, no matter the cost. I wasn’t planning on getting a ring, even I have my limits, you know? – He paused for a minute while staring at the box in his hand, to raise his eyes and smile at you. A sweet smile, the ones he shows you when no one is around and he’s very sleepy or you say one of your bad jokes he adores. – But I was walking around, calming myself after meeting the most beautiful woman in the planet and I came across this jewelry store. Before I knew I was picking a ring… A ring worthy of a queen… My queen. If you could’ve just waited a few more days… Well, then you wouldn’t have been the woman I love…
He was cut off the moment you grabbed his face in your hands. As he was talking, you slowly made your way close to him. You couldn’t believe this was happening; but, in a way, it wasn’t that surprising. This was Bucky. Your Bucky. The man that took one look at you and told you to stop playing with boys and be with him instead; your eyes filled with tears of excitement and you pulled him down so you could kiss him. At the feel of your mouth, he let out a low growl and grabbed the outside of your tights, deepening the kiss, and allowing you to wrap your legs around his waist. Bucky walked a few steps to sit you again on the desk, only this time you kept a tight grip around him. After leaving a few kisses all over your face, he pulled away slightly and wiped off the tears you didn’t notice were falling from your eyes. His softness, the loving way you were holding each other and your goofy smiles as he put the ring in your finger were a hard contrast from your surroundings, but you didn’t care. This was just the two of you, in your own little world, till death do you apart.
taggy tags: @coffeebooksandfandom @aquahogcodes @fairyevans @certainaesthetic @fuckandfluff @iwannabekilledtwice
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ARE YOU OKAY?
pairing: bucky barnes x reader
summary: the team is on a mission, one that is expected to be easy. they underprepared, y/n gets hurt. basically this is angsty as hell oops
warnings: blood, death, mentions of a gun, wounds, bucky losing someone (i feel like this is a warning of its own.)
authors note: i don’t know why but i feel like i’m the only one that likes to read angsty imagines, IS IT JUST ME? anyways sorely based off of that one scene from southpaw. I DID NOT PROOF READ LMAO
ARE YOU OKAY?
The mission was supposed to be easy. The team dressed in fancy ball gowns and suits, all in the intent of retrieving the tesseract that Hydra had hidden within this stupid little place. Well, stupid and little was a lie. It was a gorgeous event hall in Germany designed like a castle. Beautiful paintings hung from the wall, artwork painted on the ceilings, with chandeliers hanging elegantly under them. You were a trained spy, and you an amazing one too. Incredibly good at what you do. You wore a black dress that clung to your body perfectly, showing off your curves. Bucky wore an all black suit, with a black undershirt and no tie to match. He unbuttoned the first few buttons just to tease you.
You, Him, Bruce, Sam, and Steve walked in together, the rest of the team in their own little group across the party. Champagne was being handed out, laughs, and small conversations echoed in your ears. Bucky saw a man who looked around nervously, after making eye contact with him. The man quickly dashed off into the crowd, Bucky calmly going after him on attempt not to cause a scene. You knew what he was doing, and you stayed back with Bruce, Sam, and Steve. Bucky shoved passed people in the crowd, and followed the man down the hallway. He turned around when the hallway ended.
“I swear I didn’t do anything wrong.” The man said nervously. “Then why are you running?” Bucky asked. You stood next to Bruce, while Sam and Steve looked around the crowd. Someone walked towards you, another man. He seemed calm, but focused. It happened so fast. He pulled out a gun and there was a bang. “That’s why.” The man said to Bucky, a dark smirk appearing on his sinister face. Bucky froze, his heart stopping. Someone shot a gun, but there was no way anyone was hurt, right? He quickly ran from the man back towards you.
Bucky ran up to see you on your knees, Sam next to you holding you up. Steve was on the ground wresting the man with the gun, trying to pull the weapon away from him. “Bucky?” You said, his voice grabbing your attention. “What’s wrong, baby?” He asked walking towards you and falling onto his knees, Sam moving out of the way. “I don’t know.” You replied, still in shock. You moved your hand away from your stomach, Bucky replacing it. There was blood covering your hand. “What happened?” He asked calmly. “I don’t know. Something happened.” You were confused. How did this happen so fast.. and why didn’t it hurt?
“I don’t know what to do.” Bucky looked at Sam, who stared in shock. “What fucking happened?” Bucky asked him, angrily. Tony, Nat, Clint, and Wanda ran up on the scene. Wanda covering her mouth when she realized you were shot. “What happened, Bruce?” Tony asked, Bruce didn’t reply though. He just stared. “Am I okay?” you asked Bucky. “Yeah, you’re okay.” He said, nodding. “Am I okay?” You asked again, now terrified because you weren’t in pain. “Yes, it’s okay Doll.” But as he replied it felt like a lie to you, because his words were calm and collected but his face and reaction pointed towards the opposite.
“Fuck..” He said, looked at how bloody his hand was getting, still holding you up right. “What do we do?” Sam asked, looking towards Bruce. “I don’t know, do I lay her down?” Bucky asked frantically, nervously. His arm wrapping around the back of your waist. “Do I lay her down?” He repeated, Bruce still standing there. Natasha walked forward and nodded. “Yes, lay her down. Wanda, call for help.” Wanda quickly ran over to one of the pay phones in the wall. People around stared in shock. Bucky gently laid you down, Sam taking off his suit coat and layer it under your head. “Call 911, Wanda. Come on!” Tony said anxiously.
“No wait, I don’t wanna lay down!” You started to get scared. “No no no no!” Bucky said as you tried to get up, your arm around his neck. “Stay down, stay down.” Bucky held you down softly. Steve continued to wrestle the guy with the gun. “Get off me!” He yelled, catching Tony’s attention. Tony ran over and aggressively grabbed the gun from his hand and threw it away from them. “We need a doctor!” a radon person from the crowed yelled, Wanda talking to the emergency operator quickly. Everything was so loud, and you felt cold. Bucky looking around with fear in his eyes. “Bucky..” you managed to say.
“What’s going on, doll? What’s wrong?” He asked, his hand reaching for your face and moving hair away. “I wanna go. I wanna go home.” You said honestly, as if that would make the problem go away. You really wanted to be at the compound with Bucky, laughing as you try and teach him how to use a phone, the sun shining on you two as you laid in the lawn and talked about your families, your lives. You wanted to go home. “We’re gonna go home.” Bucky nodded, trying to make you feel better.
“Okay? I wanna go home. Please.” You begged. “We’re gonna go home, baby.” He tried to assure you. He could tell he was losing you. You just kept repeating you wanted to go home. “Just stay with me, okay.” He was close to your face, trying to calm you down, his hands gently petting your hair. You turned distracted, seeing Natasha holding back tears, Bruce staring in shock. Steve holding down the man who hurt you. “Look at me, look at me.” Bucky grabbed your face and made you look at him.
“Don’t worry about them. Look me in the eyes, doll.” He leaned over you, and you nodded, moaning in pain, trying to stay awake. It was hard. Your breathing quickened. Tony paced back and forth, “I should’ve brought the suit.” He mumbled to himself. “That wouldn’t have prevented this.” Natasha said to him. “Just calm down, walk away. She’s gonna be okay.” She said to him, Tony nodded.
“It’s not that bad. It’s not that bad, sweetheart.” Bucky said, looked down at the wound and pulling his hand drenched in the red liquid away. “See? It’s not that bad. It’s not bad.” He repeated, you leaned your head up with all your strength, and groaned leaning back after seeing the blood. It was bad, and he wasn’t telling you. We’re you dying? Bucky took a deep breath calming himself down. He grabbed your face, the blood rubbing off from his hand. “It’s okay, baby. It’s okay.” He said softly, nodding.
“It’s a lot of blood.” You replied. “That’s not a lot, honey. You haven’t even seen a lot.” He tried to lighten the situation, only to fail when you coughed up blood, the red liquid now stating you lips and dripping down the side of your face. Sam covered his mouth, tears falling from his eyes. He closed his eyes and stood up, walking away while running his hands through his hair. “Baby, no no no!” Bucky said, wiping the blood from your lips with his thumb.
You could tell he was scared, so you tried to hold on. You were not dying. “It’s okay, it’s okay.” you replied so he could know you were going to be okay. “I love you.” You cried, tears falling down your face and colliding with the small streams of blood. “NO!” Bucky yelled slightly. He couldn’t lose you. The team watched, their hearts sinking. “Oh my god.” Bruce whispered. “No, no no no! NO, NO!” He yelled looking around to see if anyone was coming to help, but they all stared with sadness in their eyes.
He looked down at you again. “Hey, oh shit!” His heart was racing. “It’s just a little blood, doll.” He whispered, wiping the blood and tears from your face. “Let’s go home.” you reached up and grabbed his face. “I can go home.” your eyes were closing on their own, and you kept forcing them open. But now matter how hard you fought, and how close Bucky held you, your eyes slipped close, and your hands on his face fell. “No, come on. Please!” He begged, picking you up and holding you in his lap. He rocked back and forth with your lifeless body in his arms.
Wanda covered her mouth, tears streaming down her cheeks. Tony stared in shock. Sam couldn’t even look, and Bruce fell to his knees. Natasha looked at the man who killed Y/N, anger in her eyes. “How could you?” She yelled, pushing Steve off, and punching the guy in the face. “Look what you’ve done!” She demanded, holding his now broken face to see the sad sight of Bucky sobbing with the love of his life dead in his arms. Steve stood up, out of breath, and realizing what had happened. “I tried Bucky. I really tried.”
Bucky continued to cry, and he didn’t care who saw. He just wanted you, no needed you back.
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Pairing: Natasha Romanoff x Reader, Avengers x Reader
Featuring: GoTG, Peggy Carter
Warnings: Angst, sad I suppose
Summary: 2 years after her death, your struggling even more. And it’s killing the team to keep their secret. (I changed Endgame because I can. Come at me. I might make it into chapters.)
‘It can’t be undone’ she said
*2 years ago*
You had gone through years with her. Years with the Avengers and the Guardians of the Galaxy. You had gone through love with her. You had gone through the 5 years with her. You had gone to Vormir with her. Yet you had won the final fight without her.
When you all came back from the time travel success you had to try and keep yourself from collapsing. You saw the others standing with smiles on their faces but all you saw was her. Her lips and eyes pleading you to let her go. Her body descending forever. And her sprawled out onto the floor, a pool of blood surrounding her head confirming Natasha Romanoff no longer wondered the earth.
“Are you telling me this actually worked?” Rhodey questioned, followed by Thor’s wheezy laugh. Their faces became confused when they heard a long bang. You have dropped down onto your knees, stone in hand and body wet from wherever you had been teleported to after she had sacrificed herself.
“Y/n where’s Nat?” The big green guy said. Your eyes were stuck in front of you. A sorrowful look on your face. You couldn’t even move. You couldn’t speak. You could’ve all been there for hours or seconds. But Steve lifted you up by your arms and tried to read your expression. With the help of Nebula you were taken to your bedroom you shared with Natasha. The both of them tried to gently take you to the bed but instead you walked shakily to the bathroom and shut the door. Of course Steve was upset. He had a lost a part of his family. He had shed tears while he walked with you. He could only imagine what the scene must’ve been for yourself. The unspoken news of his friends death was indescribable, but having to be there in an unimaginable situation would’ve been even harder. And he understood that. Nebula grieved, she barely knew the woman. But she grieved. She saw the distraught and pain on your face and in your eyes. She placed her hand on Steve’s shoulder and took him out of your room.
In the bathroom you had caged yourself into. You had your hand gripped to the sink. Your eyes trained to the sink bowl. Your eyes drifted to the left for you where her makeup and hairbrush had been layed out this morning. You took a step back, nervously clasping your hands together. You tried to calm down before someone got hurt. You looked down at your hands and you were maintaining some level of sanity before you remembered that your hand had let her go. If anyone would walk past your bedroom door, they were bound to hear glass smashing and screams and words of anguish.
You didn’t speak to anyone. You completely shut yourself down. The only reason you spoke to someone was to communicate over the earpiece when you were fighting. There was a short debate over the coms as to who was going to steal the stones from Thanos. You nearly went into a fit of rage and upset before Carol ordered you to look into her eyes. Your excuse to use the stones was so you could be with her again. When Tony clicked his fingers the enemy became dust, and the world became a little more louder and a bit more lighter. The battlefield was filled with new and old faces. Tony’s snap had been so powerful he was able to bring back the people that mattered the most to those around him. Steve had Peggy in his tired arms. Clint had Laura and his children. Wanda had Vision. Quill had Gamora. Thor had his mother and brother back. Tony had Pepper. He was unharmed and Bruce’s arm had healed. Everyone had someone. You had someone. You had your whole family. But your special someone was Natasha. You had never felt so lost. Natasha would be holding you, you holding her. She would tuck your head into her shoulder while letting your arms envelope around her. But all you got were sad looks.
Some of the ‘newbies’ had questioned their closest. After a lot of loud whispering, there was silence. The battlefield was silent in memory of Natasha. The only noises were the hundreds of sniffles and sobs of those who had the news broken to them. The dying fires crackling. The next minute footsteps were approaching you. You had internally begged for it to be Natasha. But you looked up to see a short boy. His suit red and blue with a spider on it. His brown curly hair was tinted with grey. His teary eyes gave you the saddest smile before and steadily put his arms around your shoulders. You accepted the young boys embrace. You were thankful for it.
The news were around the place as quick as they could’ve been. Pictures were taken. Statements were took. The public had tried to surround the heroes but were pushed away by the helping police. It has been released to the enormous crowd that one of the most heroic heroes had died. The crowds became distraught. They sounded like how you felt inside. They tried to surround you and shout out their condolences but you kept walking. Where to? Who knows.
*2 years later/present time*
You spoke to no one. You spoke out in bursts of anger. Anger if someone tried to tell you to come away from your desk and to stop working and trying to find a way. Peggy, Steve’s wife, had became close to you. She understood how it felt to lose a loved one. She understood she wasn’t Natasha. She understood why you were working yourself so hard. She would never judge you, if you looked all disheveled or smelt from not taking a shower. She encouraged you to do your best, but she never pushed you. 2 years ago, you found a solution to stop Thanos. 2 years ago you lost her. 2 years ago Steve returned the stones. You haven’t been able to go through any videos or voice messages of her. Just a photo that you have framed. There were and still are memorials for her, but you would never attend any.
You had only cried to yourself. But right now you were on the edge of having a definite breakdown. Tony and the whole team of Avengers, Wakanda, GotG and Carol had wanted to check in as you had been back to Vormir. Which you greatly regret. Scott had made an extra time travel refill for you. All you were told by red skull was a ‘soul for a soul’. You argued with a ghost. You lashed out a ghost. You didn’t dare look to the edge. Knowing you would either throw yourself of or cry so much you wouldn’t be able to move.
They all met you at the Compound. At the platform that sat on top on the lake.
Steve and Peggy. Tony and Pepper. Rhodes. Bucky and Sam. Clint and Laura. Thor and Loki. Bruce. The Guardians were there. Rocket was by your side. Peter was there with Happy. Carol was at the edge of the platform. Wanda and Vision. And the rest were all there. You had your back turned to them. You were silent trying to understand why they all had such guilty faces, except Thor. They all had a secret. One they had agreed to not tell you, for fear it may completely break you. But they decided enough was enough. They had to tell you.
“Look we need to get her back to stop this shit with the Avengers get it together.” Thor spat at Steve, as he still saw him as the Captain.
“Can’t get her back.” You spoke up, causing everyone’s attention on the two of you.
“Wh..wha..what are you..?” Thor mumbled out.
“It can’t be undone. It can’t.” You said quietly looking at him from over your shoulder.
He laughed at your words before saying, “Look.. I, I’m sorry but your a very earthly being okay, we’re talking about space magic and can’t seems very definitive. Don’t you think?”
“Yeah look I know that I’m way outside my.. my paid rate here. But she still isn’t here is she?” You said. Tony took of his sunglasses, getting upset.
“Yeah well that’s my point.” Thor said in a hushed manner.
“It can’t.. be undone.” Your voice cracking, your tears had crawled their way down your face now. “Or that’s at least what the red floating guy had to say. Maybe you wanna go talk to him. Ok, go grab your hammer and you go find him you talk to him!” You yelled at him. He looked down to the floor. You shouldn’t be angry with him. He missed Natasha. But you couldn’t help it.
“It was supposed to be me.” You admitted with a breaking voice. Bucky let a tear fall freely from his eye. “She sacrificed her life for that goddamn stone, she bet her life on it.” You started to breakdown in the middle of everyone. Angry at how she could’ve died for nothing. How it wasn’t supposed to be like this. Even Wanda began to breakdown. She felt your pain from far away. Your longing. And your grieving. Rockets fur was wet as he was upset just like everyone else.
He couldn’t take it anymore. The lies. Not the acting. But the lies. Clint stood up and said, “Y/n we’ve been lying to you. Natasha is here. She’s perfectly fine. She’s alive. You just can’t see her.” No one else bothered to look up as he said what was needed to be said. You slowly turned around to him. “What?” Was all you could choke out. Steve stood up and walked towards you before keeping a distance. “When I returned the stone. He told me that we could all get her back, after all it was a soul for a soul. But the one who travelled there has been cursed. You can’t see or hear her and I don’t know if you ever will. But she’s alive.”
You took time to observe his words.
She was standing in front of you. Her arms crossed but her eyes were stuck on your face that was wet from the tears you had cried. Your eyes brows moving in a sorrowful way. She wasn’t crying for herself no. She cried for you. For your pain. She had never seen you so upset. And because she had been with you ever since she got back, she’s had to watch you cry almost every day.
Natasha wishes you could see her. She has been next to you this whole time. She was gone a few hours and then she was back. She couldn’t find you and instead ran into Sam who held her tightly. Instead she sped off to Tony’s cabin where she found Bucky and Steve, who explained everything.
She wishes you could hear how proud she is of you. She wishes you didn’t have to see you break yourself and live in your mental anguish. It hurt her. Every night you fell asleep at your desk, she would drape a blanket over you, and almost cry at your confused state in the morning of who had been to your office and covered you.
She wishes you hadn’t been traumatised by her silly yet heroic actions. She wishes she could tell you how much she loves you and how she wants to be held by you and she wants you to be able to hear her words, “I love you.” The others heard it. But they didn’t dare tell you.
She wishes there was a way.
If you would like a part 2, let me know.
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𝐰𝐚𝐤𝐞 𝐮𝐩, 𝐛.𝐛
a/n: here is a little bucky blurb! i just love somnophilia LMAO here ya go with my needy baby
pairing: needy!bucky barnes x reader
reblogs/feedback/likes are greatly appreciated & highly encouraged! however, DO NOT repost/steal ANY of my fics!
warnings: 18+, language, somnophilia, dub-con, oral (f), fingering
The lights are turned off throughout the apartment. Bucky's careful not to be too loud when dropping his overnight bag in front of the mini hallway entrance- not wanting to disrupt your sleep.
Taking a quick turnaround trip with Sam and Steve seemed better at the moment. However, from the moment he facetimed you, fresh out of the shower and towel barely hanging on your breasts, Bucky's mind was stuck with the image of you the whole time.
The small increments where he was alone wasn't enough time to properly relieve himself- and he had hoped to be home before you had gone to bed.
Lights are off in the bedroom, the only source of light coming from the tv. Scenes of a random tv show plays on mute- perfectly illuminating your body.
The image of your body laying on the mattress with barely any clothing covering your most intimate parts of you causes the familiar ache Bucky had felt nearly all weekend to begin.
You shift in your sleep. Laying on your back with your legs parted, exposing your cunt- covered only by the small material of your panties.
Staring shamelessly, Bucky's mouth waters. Fog clouding his brain, only thoughts of finally being able to dip his tongue inside you. He pulls over his shirt and discards his sweats.
He can't help himself, not when your legs are spread in front of him, and your panties barely cover your folds.
Carefully, Bucky moves the blanket off of you. He knows the motion of pulling your panties off completely would wake you; he opts for moving them to the side. While doing so, a string of mumbled curses escapes through his clenched jaw.
Stomach flat on the mattress, he hooks your legs over his shoulders. Bucky's palms rest on your tummy.
Fast asleep, your body still reacts to his touch- dampening the closer his fingers get to your pussy.
His eyes lock on the glistening cunt.
"Look at you, soaked for me, even in your sleep." He blabbers to himself, trailing his fingers on the inside of your thigh.
Goosebumps cover your skin, shifting at the sensation. He's been put in a trance. His thumb glides over your folds, stopping at your clit, warming you.
Whining into your thigh,
"So fucking pretty,"
Peppering lazy wet kisses into them. The desire and hunger for a taste hijacked the goal of keeping quiet. His lips press against your folds, lapping up the arousal.
The drippy hole clenching around nothing, in desperate need to be filled.
Your body shudders at the sensation of his tongue swirling around your clit. The vibrations and pleasure pull you into a lighter sleep.
Bucky sucks on the nerve harshly. His nails dig into your hips as he grabs at your body, needing you closer to him.
Your chest rises and falls rapidly the closer he pushes you to your climax. Small whimpers and soft moans slip past your lips, jerking into his mouth.
"Missed this cunt, fuck," Bucky's tongue flickers your clit as his fingers join them.
Arousal coats his fingers as they slip inside you. Gasping in pleasure, your eyes flutter open. Your head lifts up to see Bucky sucking harshly and his fingers pumping in and out of you- not even acknowledging your consciousness.
" M'sorry princess, I couldn't help myself.” You're lost for words.
Your chest heaves, legs tremble and your hips dig into the mattress. The first wave of pleasure crashing into you. Fingers clawing at the sheets, balling them into your fists.
"Holy shit, Buck-" Bucky collects the arousal that's dripping from your hole.
The animalistic moan into your clit causes your hips to buck and your back to arch. Bucky feels your walls tighten around his fingers, curling one last time into your g-spot.
"Oh yes, cum around my fingers," He practically begs,
The bulge trapped by his boxers is throbbing- pulsating- begging for a release. With two fingers still stuffed inside you, he lifts his head to greet you.
"Hi, princess." He coos, watching your body twitch at the sensitivity.
"I've been thinking about this cunt all weekend- I just wanted a taste,"
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does anyone have any good angsty fic reqs? i’ve gotten plenty of like…smutty ones, but i do like to write angst. so if anyone has any, please send them my way! but check over my rules first:) thanks😎
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Dark Paradise - Chapter (eight / ?)
Pairing: bodyguard!Bucky Barnes X fem!Reader
Series Summary: Through out your life you’ve been able to easily get used to many things. Sudden wealth, new cities, affairs, new step-parents, drugs, etc. All of these things were normal for you, your life was pretty normal to you at least. That was until a certain man flipped your world upside down.
Chapter Summary: On one of the days where Wanda or your step-mother don’t come to take care of you, Bucky does and he makes it his job to make you feel all flustered.
Warnings: None, just brief dirty thoughts towards the beginning + the reader and Bucky teasing each other ;))
Word Count: 1.4k
a/n: sorry this is so short and boring, i promise that the next chapter will be better lol
It had now been a few days since you had come home from the hospital and you still hadn’t gotten the chance to shower.
You still faintly smelled like your own blood and you knew you couldn’t put off cleaning yourself any longer.
Bucky offered to help you bathe, but you refused, too embarrassed to ever agree to that. So, you told him that you’d be fine and if you needed help, you would call out for him.
So far, your shower was going alright. It hurt a little whenever the hot water went over your bandage, but you could manage this.
As you rinsed the conditioner out of your hair, you shut your eyes and let your head fall back under the stream of water behind you.
While you did this you started to think about Bucky.
You thought about what it would be like to be fucked by him against the cold tiled walls. You thought about how it’d feel to have his hand wrapped around your neck while he pounded into you.
You softly shook these thoughts away, your folds were already growing wetter at the mere thought of him doing that to you.
As much as you wanted him to fuck you, you also didn’t want your stitches to accidentally get ripped open while he did.
You’d hate to have to go back to the hospital.
Once you got out of the shower and wrapped a towel around your body, you called out for Bucky. As, he had asked earlier to replace your bandage for you and you accepted this offer.
“Bucky! You can come change my bandage now!” you called out.
Bucky raced into your bathroom, his jaw dropping with shock as he laid his eyes on your wet and almost naked figure.
His eyes flickered up to your hair, which was sticking to the back of your neck and cheeks. His eyes then shifted down to the top of your towel, where your cleavage could be just barely seen.
He harshly swallowed and blushed before he said anything. You giggled at him as you noticed this.
“You look so beautiful, doll.” he said, still obviously very nervous and speechless.
“You don’t look too bad yourself, Buck.” you replied, cheekily grinning at him.
He awkwardly laughed at your comment as his eyes left your body and he went to go get a clean bandage.
While he took it out of the packaging, you teasingly opened the right side of your towel, giving Bucky a view of your naked body.
His jaw dropped once more as looked over at you.
“You ready, doll?” he quietly asked.
“Mhm.” you replied with a nod.
You screwed your eyes shut as he took the old bandage off, groaning every few seconds as the sticky product left your skin.
While Bucky put the new bandage over your stitches, he started to plant deep kisses onto your now exposed v line and hip.
You shuddered under his touch.
Once he was done, he pressed a soft but loving kiss to your lips before leaving you alone in your bathroom to change back into your clothes.
After you finished changing, you combed through your hair, tied it back and then headed back into your room.
You did still have a play to write after all.
But luckily for you, after hearing about what happened to you, your teacher extended the deadline for this project until early July.
Which definitely lifted a ton of weight off of your shoulders, to say the least.
You sat in your bed and began to finish writing act 2 of your play.
After thinking about it for a while, you decided to write your play about The Winter Soldier, that assassin that killed for a while then disappeared.
While you continued to write, Bucky walked into your room and plopped down next to you on your bed. You softly chuckled as the bed bounced with his body.
“What did you decide to write your play about, doll?” he asked you as he propped his arms up and rested his face in his hands.
“I decided to write it about that Winter Soldier.” you said, your eyes remaining on the screen in front of you while you continued to quickly type.
Buckys eyes widened as these words left your lips and he hoped deep down that you didn’t know that he was this assassin.
You could see how tense he was from the corner of your eye. So you decided to address his clear anxiousness because you brought up the topic of the soldier.
“I know that you were The Winter Soldier Bucky, that’s probably why my father hired you anyways. But don’t worry about it, I know that you’re not him anymore.” you explained to him.
As you finished speaking, you reached your hand out to him and he gladly took it. He then looked up at you with that apologetic look in his eyes again.
“You don’t scare me. Even when you were him, you still didn’t scare me. And who you were then and who are now, doesn’t make me like you any less.” you assured him, pressing a quick kiss to his knuckles.
“Okay.” he said almost silently, snuggling up to you.
You could tell that he was trying to distract you from your work. But you had to admit, you adored how clingy he was.
You enjoyed the extra attention, it was cute.
“Bucky, I have a play to work on. We can’t cuddle right now.” you jokingly warned him as you tried to hold back a smile from spreading across your cheeks.
“But, you have until July! You can skip one day of work.” he dramatically whined as he hugged your waist against his chest.
“Oh alright.” you said as you shut your laptop, letting him win this time.
You then set your computer aside and slid down your bed a little bit so that Bucky could comfortably hold your entire body in his arms.
As he held you, you thought back to when you were a little girl and your father rocked you to sleep. You continued to think about the childhood you had before your father gained this wealth and became distant.
The memory of this part of your childhood was now distant as well as bittersweet to you.
You quietly sniffled and let a few tears slip down your face as the reminder that your father was still dead popped into your mind.
And thanks to his heightened sense of hearing, Bucky heard your sniffles the second they started.
He knew he couldn’t just ignore the clear pain and grief you were going through. He wanted you to feel okay again.
So, he pulled away from the crook of your neck and looked at your tear stained cheeks as he began to think of ways to comfort you the best he possibly could.
He knew how it felt to loose someone in your family and he didn’t want you to feel alone while you mourned.
“What’s wrong doll?” he asked you, running the pad of his thumb across your cheek.
“It’s not your fault, but you holding me like that just reminded of my father. Before he became rich, we had a really good relationship. But, after that he just became distant and cold. I still miss him though now that he’s gone.” you told Bucky.
He furrowed his eyebrows with concern as these words fell from your lips. His arms then shifted to your back and he brought you in closer to him.
“I understand, doll. My relationship with my father was strained too. What can I do to make you feel better?” he said.
Your hand slid up to his cheek and you began to slowly rub your thumb up against it. You stayed in your thoughts for a few seconds prior to answering him again.
“I don’t know, I just want you to hold me tight and promise that you’ll never leave my side.” you said, hesitantly looking up to meet his blue eyes.
He nodded as he held you tightly like you had asked and his face then went back into the crook of your neck.
He traced circles into your spine as he spoke, “I’ll never leave you, I promise. You’re all￼ I’ve ever wanted, doll. And as long as I’m alive, you’ll never be able to get rid of me.” he cooed.
You nodded into his shoulder as your own arms went around his ribs. You pressed a few kisses to his neck as he comforted you with these words.
“I feel the same way. I’ve never met anyone who has shown me as much love as you have Bucky.” you made known.
“I’m glad you feel the same way. All I want is to give you the world.” he replied, a gentle smile on his face.
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Not that this is relevant, but I’m in the middle of writing an angsty Bucky thing whilst listening to the Macarena on full volume in my headphones.
It’s surprisingly incredibly motivating.
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You know what hurts? Being in the middle of doing something completely mundane and suddenly remembering that James Buchanan Barnes was afraid of himself, of what he could do and had done, for a very long time.
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