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itsthewritergal · 2 months

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Just let me go - Bucky Barnes x reader

Okay this one is ANGSTTYYY Also there will be a part two! Posted tomorrow :)

TW: kidnapping, swearing, suicidal thoughts, guns, angst, sadness, suicidal ideation, also I haven't proof read this aha I'm sorry!!

“Sergeant Barnes, there is someone here to see you” One of the agent said as they stepped into the training room,

“Who?” Bucky replied curtly, being halfway through a session with Nat he didn’t exactly want to be interrupted no matter who it was

“I don’t know but she looks upset, if I was you I’d be worried” the agent said with a laugh, making a few of the other trainee’s laugh

“Don’t forget your rank” Bucky said bluntly,

“Sorry Sargent Barnes” The agent said,

“You can start sparring, I’ll be back soon and I expect to see some improvements from yesterday” Nat said following Bucky out the room,

“Who do you think it is?” Nat asked

“I don’t know” Bucky said

“What about that girl you went out with the other night?”

“I don’t think she’d come here” Bucky said with a huff, “she didn’t like me” he said

“Ooh what about the girl from Tony’s party?” Nat suggested, it sounded as though the idea of Bucky having a girl round was entertaining to her, Bucky narrowed his eyes at Nat,

“No” He said bluntly,

“Tensions killing me” Nat said with a dry laugh

“Come on Nat, leave it alone” he said, turning the corner to the common room, he stopped immediately his breath hitching in his throat for a split second,

“Y/N?” Nat beamed running over to give her a hug almost knocking her off of her feet “It’s been like a year since I saw you!” She grinned,

“Hey Nat” She said gently,

“You have to stay for dinner, Wanda’s cooking, she’ll want to see you. So will Steve, and Tony, oh and Sam!” She said “I’ll text them all now, they’ll set up a place for you”

“Nat, I don’t think—” Y/N started

“I don’t want to hear it, you’re staying” She said pulling out her phone and quickly tapping a message,

“Y/N” Bucky said bluntly, his voice void of all emotions.

“Hey” Y/N cut herself off unsure of what to call him so deciding against calling him anything, her eyes wandered to his arm, “the black and gold suits you” She said softly “Always said silver wasn’t your colour”

“Shuri agreed with you” Bucky nodded

An uncomfortable silence settled across the two of them,

“I should go” She said quickly,

“Why did you come?” He asked a part of him not wanting her to disappear, not again

“I, uh I found, I found this” Y/N said her cheeks flushing red as she passed Bucky a t-shirt, one that he had forgotten about, but it certainly looked more worn now than how he remembered it. His heart squeezed at the thought of her wearing it after everything

“This is why you came?” Bucky said

“You’re right, it was stupid. I’m gonna go” Y/N said quickly, shaking her head as she turned, Bucky knew how she felt. He had imaged many times making an excuse to go and see her, he just didn’t think she was the kind of person to go through with it.

“Y/N! Oh my, Nat said you were here. I’ve just laid the table dinner will be ready in about twenty minutes which is just long enough for you to catch me up on your life! Sorry Buck, but she’s with me until dinner. Then you can have her back” Wanda said not offering Bucky or Y/N a second option.

----

“So Y/N where have you been?” Tony asked as they all sat down at the table “it’s like you dropped off the face of the earth

“Just around,” She said quietly

“I came by your apartment, but it was empty” Tony said,

“I had to move out”

“You moved out?” Nat said “How come?” She said worry filling her voice

“Life happens” she said, her voice barely above a whisper. Bucky’s eyes fell on her face, watching how her eyes studied her plate not daring to look up

“Well things always find a way of getting better” Wanda said squeezing Y/N’s hand on the top of the table

“How about you guys, I’ve seen good things on the news” Y/N said softly

“We’re okay” Steve said,

“I”m pleased,” Y/N said with a smile that didn’t quite meet her eyes,

“What’s your new apartment like?” Wanda asked,

“It’s nice” Y/N said gently ,

“You should give me the address,” Tony said commandingly

“I’ll send it over to you, I still don’t quite know it off by heart” She said, it was a lie. Bucky knew it was a lie, even if he couldn’t hear her heartbeat pick up, he would be able to tell from the way she couldn’t look at anyone in their eye.

“What part of town is it?” Steve pressed,

“I really appreciate you guys having me for dinner but I’m going to head home” She said quickly, “I’ll see you guys around” She said picking up her coat,

“I'm sorry if I said something wrong” Steve apologised quickly, he should’ve known better than to press her, Bucky thought

“You don’t need to” Tony said trying to savour the dinner

“Why don’t you stay for a movie?” Wanda suggested,

“I need to go” She said standing up and quickly hurrying out of the room

A gentle silence fell across the room, “I shouldn’t have asked her” Steve said

“It’s not on you” Wanda said “I don’t think that anyone could have convinced her to open up to us”

“I’ll find her address and go over tomorrow, it’ll be easier without anyone else there” Tony said fiercely,

“She won’t talk to you” Bucky said

“And she’ll talk to you?” Tony snapped “You’re the reason we are in this mess in the first place. She is my friend and I will do what I think is right”

“What even happened when you broke up?” Wanda asked

“ Nothing” Bucky said

“Don’t lie” Tony snapped

“What the hell did you do? I thought you two were fine” Nat asked

“You told us all you two were fine after the breakup” Wanda said

“Leave him alone” Steve said sternly

Bucky sighed softly “She just came to drop off a shirt”

“Nobody drops off a shirt after a year” Tony said “She wanted to see you and you couldn’t even give her the time of day” He snapped

“She’ll be okay, I’ll come with you tomorrow, we can check in on her” Wanda said

Bucky didn’t dare to say anything, he just nodded gently. It was a thank you, all be it a silent one, but a thank you none the less.

----

“Tony, you need to see this” Wanda said as an alert popped up on the screen alerting Tony to a new message, they had been in Tony's lab for a few hours scouting out Y/N's new apartment.

“Have you seen where she is living?” Tony said scanning through the photos that FRIDAY had brought up on his screen “it’s worse than I thought”

“Tony now” Wanda said fiercely,

“What is it?” Tony asked, turning around, his face dropping when he saw the screen. “Is that?”

“Y/N” Wanda finished

“Who sent this” Tony asked

“I don’t know, it’s anonymous. I can’t trace the signal either”

“FRIDAY, call the team and get them into the conference room now”

“Yes Mr Stark” FRIDAY answered

“We can’t tell Bucky” Wanda said,

“We can and we will because he is going to help us”

“That’s a bad idea” Wanda said

“He once was one the best assassins, no debate. As much as I don’t like the tinman, he can and will help us” Tony said leaving little room for debate.

“Tony what the hell? We’re meant to have the week off of missions” Nat said, sitting down in a chair with a mug of coffee nursed in her hands

“This is different” Tony said,

“How so?” Steve asked

“This is personal” Tony said sternly,

“It’s Y/N” Wanda whispered,

“What happened to her?” Bucky asked

“I was sent this video” Tony said

“We thought it was best we watched it together” Wanda added

“FRIDAY, play the video please”

The screen went dark for a moment and then lit up with a picture of Y/N locked in a room, Bucky felt a strange wave of familiarity wash over him

“Tell your friends what we want” A voice spoke, it sent chills down Bucky’s spine, he put her in this position. He had done everything to keep her safe, after all these years, this was his fault.

“They won’t come” Y/N’s voice was strangely calm

“Don’t be difficult girl, tell them what we want” The voice spoke again

“You want the soldier, you want someone who’s gone. But here’s the catch. Even if he wasn’t gone, even if the solider still existed he wouldn’t come. Not for me.” She said

“We’ve done our research” The voice mused, there was a hint of amusement in it’s voice, as though it had caught Y/N out,

“Your research is wrong. I haven’t spoken to Bucky in a year, he does’t care” Y/N snapped, a gunshot sounded through the conference room, making them jump

“Turn it off” Bucky’s voice was quiet but cut through the entire room

“Shooting blanks at me won’t work” Y/N snapped “If you’re going to kill me then kill me”

“Turn it off” Bucky said once more

“We want the soldat” The voice behind the camera spoke

“Then you’ll have to find someone who he cares about, because it isn’t me” She snapped

“You have six hours or she dies”

The camera turned off and the room went dark. All eyes turned to Bucky,

“When was this sent?” He said

“Barely ten minutes ago” Wanda answered softly,

“Let’s start at her apartment” Steve said firmly “Wanda, Clint you’re with me, Tony, Nat you should try and find something from the video, there might be an idea of where they’re keeping her.”

“I need to go as well” Bucky said

“No” Wanda said “You need to stay away from this”

“I spent years tracking people down, I think I’m the best chance we have to finding Y/N” He said challenging anyone to speak out against him

“I’ll go as support” Sam said patting Bucky’s back comfortingly.

“We need to go, now” Steve said

----

Steve’s skin crawled at the sight of Y/N’s apartment. He hesitated before pushing the door open, it creaked and echoed through the tiny studio. Clothes were thrown across the room, plates were stacked up by the sink, two blankets were half heartedly thrown across the bed, no sign of a duvet or pillow. Bucky had to tear his eyes away from her apartment for a minute to regain his composure.

“I can’t believe she was staying here” Wanda said stepping into it

“It was a means to an end” Steve said,

“I should have helped her” Wanda sighed softly, her eyes falling on the pile of clothes in the corner of the room,

“We didn’t know” Clint said

“We should have” Wanda snapped “Look at how she was living, we should have been able to help”

“She was always good at surviving” Steve said firmly

“She shouldn’t have had to be, we are her friends and the moment her and Bucky split we left her” Wanda said, tears building in her eyes

“They must have taken her here, look at the mess” Steve said changing the subject quickly,

“No” Bucky said softly “This is Y/N” Bucky said with a sigh

“What do you mean?” Clint asked “this is normal?”

“When she got busy, she used to get messy, never put things away. Found it hard to do anything” Bucky said swallowing tightly “We argued about it” He admitted

“So did they take her here, or not?” Sam asked

“Not here, this is normal for her. It didn’t happen here” Bucky said firmly

“Ok so that’s something” Sam said, attempting at a loose sense of positivity

“It must’ve happened by the compound” Wanda said “think about it, if they wanted Bucky then surely they’d be keeping tabs on him. When she left last night they must have taken the next best thing to get to him” She said

“We need to look at security cameras” Clint suggested

“Who wants Bucky though?” Sam said, “I think we’re focussing too much on Y/N, rather than on what they want”

“Hydra” Steve said through pursed lips

“It can’t be” Wanda said

“It has to be” Clint confirmed “It makes the most sense”

“So who are we looking at? Zemo?” Sam asked

“Maybe” Steve said “Doesn’t feel right though”, Steve’s thought was cut short by his phone ringing

“Steve, I’ve got an address” Tony said, “suit up”

----

Bucky couldn’t stop shaking, he’d been on tougher missions, he’d been in tougher briefings, he had almost died more times than he could count. But this felt like the worst day of his life,

“We’ve been sent an address,” Tony said

“It’s a trap” Nat said

“We don’t know that” Steve suggested, “Who sent it to you?”

“It came with a video, it was from the same people as before”

“What’s the video?” Sam asked, noticing the tension that had fallen across the room,

Tony instructed FRIDAY to play the video, Y/N’s face was brought up on the screen,

“Y/N tell them what you just told me” The voice spoke

“No” She spat through gritted teeth, her hair was matted with blood which dripped slowly from a wound on her hair line, her face was bruised and Bucky was silently pleased he could only see to the base on her neck, anymore and he was sure he would throw up. The skin he had once pressed kisses to so gently was purple and blotted with blood.

“Our captive here has a death wish” The voice said again, “She had her little suicide letters in her pocket when we caught her” it sneered

“Shut the hell up” Y/N snapped, there was something in her eyes that scared Bucky, she looked so void of the love that she had once been filled with

“She was on the top of a building when we found her, she’s only got 3 hours left avengers. Are you going to give in to her wishes?”

“Just kill me” She whispered

“What was that?” The voice asked, it was mocking her, teasing her, it was a sight that Bucky couldn’t stand

“Kill me!” She shouted, her voice sent chills down each of the spines of her old friends “Just kill me” She said settling into a bought of sobs,

The video stopped and cut to a map with a pin placed directly in it.

“We need to go” Steve said “We leave in 5”

----

The quinjet landed softly and Bucky could feel a knot growing in his stomach, he had been on enough rescue missions to know the ways that this could go. It was an old hydra base, one that Bucky was sure should’ve been emptied years ago. But here it stood, admittedly it was partly falling down but the cells were deep underground and the structures were built to last. He knew that much well enough, if he strained his ears he would swear that he could hear Y/N’s cries, but he convinced himself it was all in his head.

“She’s going to be okay” Steve said

“I can’t loose her Steve” Bucky admitted “I’ve lost her once, I can’t watch her die”

“Then don’t let her” Steve said

Bucky followed behind the rest of the team, Wanda stood beside him,

“Do you want me to take the fear away?” She asked under her breath, knowing nobody else would be able to hear her

“No, I need it” Bucky said, he didn’t explain anything else but Wanda nodded,

“Let’s go get Y/N home” Wanda said

Bucky followed Tony’s lead, any other mission he would have tried to take the lead off of Tony but he couldn’t for this. Y/N needed Tony’s planning, Y/N’s life couldn’t be in Bucky’s hands. He would never forgive himself if anything happened. They descended into the base, it was too quiet for Bucky’s liking. Hydra would never have kept it this quiet, something was wrong.

“Welcome home soldat” the words echoed through the halls,

“They know we are here” Steve muttered,

“She’s down here” Tony said, taking another set of steps downwards, Bucky could hear her shallow breaths getting louder slowly with each step he took.

“Y/N?” Steve called out,

“I told you to fucking kill me” Y/N screamed, Tony immediately picked up the pace to a run following the sound of her voice. Their footsteps echoed through the concrete walls, as they came across a long hallway filled with cells made of glass. Bucky’s skin crawled at the sight. This was what he wanted to protect Y/N from, she shouldn’t see this.

“KIll me” Her voice rang through the cells,

“Soldat” Bucky turned to find the voice behind him. “Do the honours?” The man said, he was older than Bucky thought he would be.

“We’re surrounded” Steve said,

“There’s no getting out of this” The man sneered,

“That’s kind of where you are wrong” Tony said smartly, “You really think there’s only four of us?” He laughed

“What?”

“The rest of our team have cleared out your base, and they’re on their way” He said with a smirk “Also not only have we got two super soldiers, we’ve also got a freaky witch and me, ironman, you might of heard of me”

“Ironman, you forget. You have an unstable winter soldier on your team, All I have to do is say a few words and he’s under my control right?”

“Doesn’t work anymore” Bucky snapped

“I’m bored” Nat said sneaking up from behind, with a wicked grin she pulled the trigger and the body fell to the ground with a thud. Instantly Bucky turned and shot the guard who was keeping him surrounded “God why are all the people we go against so boring” Nat said with a huff, once they had dealt with the guards.

“Let’s just get Y/N” Tony said letting out a breath.

Wanda took a step away from the group into a nearby cell, it was as though she felt her.

“Guys she’s here” Wanda called,

Bucky took a deep breath and turned the corner, Y/N sat slumped on a chair, out of breath and covered in bruises and dried blood.

“Please” She whimpered

“We’re going to get you out of here” Wanda said slowly untying her gently

“Please no” She cried

“You’re safe” Steve said kneeling at her side

“No Please, let me go” She said

“We’re letting you go, you’re going to be ok”

“No, please” She sobbed again “You have to let me die” She cried as Wanda pulled the ties away from her

“Y/N, we can’t do that” Steve said,

“You’re going to be okay” Tony promised

“Just let me go please?”

PART TWO

#bucky barnes #bucky angst #bucky x reader #bucky #bucky barnes x y/n #itsthewritergal #bucky masterlist #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes fluff #bucky barnes x #bucky barnes masterlist #bucky x

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itiswormtimebaby · 9 months

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Here’s what I’m thinking about:

What each of the biker!boys call you and why.

Biker!Ari calls you Goldi. When pressed he’ll insist it’s because you’re as nosy (curious) and air-headed (free-spirited) as the little blonde girl who refused to mind her own business and almost became a family of angry bears’ lunch. The real reason (though honestly both are valid), is because you’re the sunshine of his life- his golden girl.

Biker!Bucky calls you Bug. Knowing you first in the capacity of his best friends little sister (Steve having been adopted by your family around the age of thirteen), he spent a lot of his teen years whinging about you bugging them, as if it was your fault your newly hormonal brain was desperate for a smidge of his attention. It could've been worse, it could’ve been “Fly,” as in “shoo fly!” A favorite phrase of Bucky’s when he was feeling particularly annoying.

Biker!Steve calls you Apple. There was a period of time where the man was living off spite and apple pie, and it just so happened you made the best in town. It started with him frequenting the same small diner after a rough day (and weren’t they all rough lately) he always ordered the same thing, and always had the same kind-eyed waitress (you), so eventually it became second nature to just sit and say “apple,please.” When this little routine made it into the double digits you’d made an off-hand remark about how you’d never felt so flattered over your baking. Steve was shocked to find out you were the one making it and had just pointed at you and said incredulously “Apple?!” And from then on the damn name had stuck, though if you ever complained about it he would just nip at your neck and say “C’mon, don’t you like being the apple of my eye?”

AN: My plan is to continue using the “Here’s what I’m thinking about” (HWITA) format to offer peaks behind the curtain at our biker!boys as I continue world building and working on longer (more formally written) pieces for each. Hope you enjoy!

HWITA Steve is obsessed with your ass

HWITA Ari catches you riding the arm of his couch

HWITA Bucky “comforts” you when you get way too high

#biker!bucky #biker!steve #biker!ari #bucky barnes x #ari levinson x reader #steve rogers x reader #hwita

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incorrectmarvelquotesss · 1 year

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— not it —

Warnings: plain angst (but not really?)

Summary: Bucky can feel the distance growing between them and he knows there’s nothing he can do to save them.

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Unnamed Female Character

Word Count: ~900

A/N: A little something that I wrote a while back. I thought that it might make up for my being so absent from here, which I feel terrible about. I still have my 1000 followers celebration going on! Go ahead and join it. It’s a great way to boost your confidence and maybe reach the targeted audience.

Bucky could see it in her eyes.

The way she moved ever so slightly away from his touch, so slight in fact that it took him months to be sure. She would move her hand away from his when it touched his bare skin—or his metal hand. She brushed off his presence and pretended to not catch his eyes in a room, gazing at someone else’s instead. He saw her flip her hair over her shoulders when he tried to touch her shoulder, making him drop his hand. He was being ignored, even though he didn’t notice it back then.

Now he was constantly seeing these little things and he had no clue how to deal with it. He hated confrontation, but he just had to say something. In the last few months, the question had been eating him up. Was this the end? He wondered about it so much that sometimes he would catch himself asking it out loud to the walls of his apartment. One time, he caught himself just before he asked her that question and laid it all down on the table for her to see.

“Bucky?” She asked, smiling at him. Not like she used. It used to be brighter and warmer, catching his sight right away. It used to make him think that it could warm the room without even trying, but now he wasn’t so sure. “Are you all right? You seemed out of it for a second.” Her eyes studied his moves carefully.

He shook his head and said, “I’m fine.”

Her brows furrowed at the simple answer. She frowned, lips pulling down at the ends. She placed her mug back on the table, looking around the small cafe before looking at him with concern flooding her eyes. Bucky wanted to say the same answer again, more confidently with more meaning, but he knew she would see through it.

“What is it, Bucky?” She asked with more authority. The tone made Bucky feel like he was getting lectured by his mother and that hadn’t happened in over seventy years and wouldn’t happen ever again.

“Is this it?” He blurted out, a fleeting memory of his mother saying something along the lines of if you aren’t happy with something or someone, then there’s no harm in saying it. When she looked confused at his question he continued. “Are you happy still? I think—I think that you aren’t, but, you know, I’m not you. So I need to ask you to make sure.”

“Oh.” That wasn’t such a great start. Either Bucky was right or completely wrong. She bit her lip in that cute way of hers before she shook her head. “It’s not you, Bucky.”

Bucky’s shoulders sagged. He wasn’t sure if it was because of relief that he was right or the dread taking him under. He watched her carefully as she looked down at her mug, tracing the handle as she contemplated what to say and what not to say. Her posture said so much more than she did though, slumped shoulders and trembling hands said so much to him. He had learned to notice these little ticks of hers so that he knew her mood beforehand.

“You deserve someone who loves you more than themselves,” she said finally, gazing into his eyes. “I’m too selfish. I don’t want the life you want. Settle down, have kids, live happily ever after. I don’t want to get married or have kids, Bucky. I didn’t know how to tell you that. So I started to distance—unaware at first, honestly—but then I was doing it purposely. And for that, I’m so sorry. More sorry than I’ve ever been or will be. It wasn’t fair to you.

“I think that you knew it anyway. I know you did. I noticed the little things too, but maybe I noticed them a bit later than you did. It’s not anything to do with you, Bucky. It’s not because you were the Winter Soldier and definitely not because you did something to hurt me. Don’t worry about that. You loved me more than anyone has. But that’s exactly it, isn’t it? You loved me. I loved you. That love we once had doesn’t exist. It hasn’t for a while now and I know it’s not going to come back.”

Bucky nodded, blood rushing in his ears. She smiled and Bucky caught a glimpse of her old smile until he blinked. He saw her get up, slinging her purse up and grabbing some bills to pay her half. She always insisted and Bucky could never tell her no. This time, he put his hand to stop her from doing so. He smiled and got his black card out.

“Tony’s got us covered.” She grinned and put her money back in her purse, letting it slide for the first and last time.

She turned to leave before she stopped and turned back to look at him. “We’re still friends?” She asked with a bit of hope dancing through her eyes.

He gave her a tight-lipped smile. “I don’t think we’d be good friends.”

“True.” She shrugged. “Then this is it, Bucky Barnes. ‘Till… never, I guess.”

“See you never, I guess.” Bucky smiled at her retreating form because now he was sure and there was no question eating him up. He was able to be happy without feeling guilty. She wasn’t the one for him and he wasn’t the one for her, and both of them knew this.

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes one shot #james bucky buchanan barnes #james bucky barnes #james barnes #bucky barnes x female reader #bucky barnes x female oc #bucky barnes x #bucky barnes angst #james buchanan barnes #james barnes x female reader #james barnes x female oc #mcu #marvel cinematic universe #mcu character #marvel #avenger

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tweedlydumbtweedlydoo · 1 year

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Whistling Blizzard | Bucky Barnes x reader

Seasonal Prompt List + Send one in with any one on THIS list :)

Requested by: me:)

Prompts: (bolded)

56. “I’m snowed in at this god forsaken cabin in the middle of no where with someone I hate. On Christmas Eve. How do you think I feel?”

a/n: Hope you enjoy! x

**MASTERLIST**

Requests: {OPEN} CLOSED

********************************************************************************************NOT MY GIF, CREDIT TO OWNERS

What was supposed to be a quick in and out mission, turned out to be one of the worst and longest missions you’d experienced. Here it was, Christmas Eve and you’re stuck with the one person you couldn’t stand.

You and Bucky had somehow got separated from Sam during the mission and ended up in an abandoned cabin, in the middle of no where. You’d sent word to Sam, but he said due to the incoming blizzard, there would be no rescue team until tomorrow morning, which unfortunetly was Christmas morning.

You should have been back at your home by now in front of a cozy fire, listening to Christmas music and eating your weight in chocolate chip cookies and milk to wash it down.

But no, you’re sitting on a dusty and dingy couch that hadn’t seen the light of day in a decade, an overwhelming moldy smell and freezing your tail off.

With a huff Bucky plopped on the other end of the couch, sending dust particles in the air.

You coughed and Bucky mumbled a sheepish sorry.

“This is unbelievable.” You cross your arms over your chest, gazing out the window. The sun had already started to set and you could barely see through the large snow flurries beginning to fall and blanket the earth.

“I don’t know.” Bucky slides down the couch so he can lean his head on the back of the sofa comfortably, eyes closing, “I can finally get some peace and quiet.”

You glare at him from your seat, “You know this is all your fault, right? If you hadn’t-”

“Woah now,” His eyes fly open, his hand outstretched to stop you and ready to defend himself, “My fault?”

“yes, your fault!”

He sits up now, ready to begin this argument, “I wasn’t the one who suggested we go-”

“No, you just suggested we go guns blazing into the place without even evaluating what we were up against!”

“I knew we could handle it, but then you backed out and left Sam and I hanging. The two of us couldn’t take all of them. If you’d stayed and fought we’d have had a chance.” He stands, “I’m not going to sit here while you try to pin this on me.”

“Cause you know I’m right and you don’t want to admit it.” You call out after him.

He storms out of the cabin with a slam of the door.

That was Bucky for you, always leaving when things got tough or if he was backed in a corner. He never could admit his wrong doings. It was always someone else’s fault.

As the day began to fade and night set in, you found some candles, lining them around the room for at least some light. It was beyond freezing in the cabin and you had begun to worry that Bucky may have actually left you here. He wouldn’t have left you here, would he?

You rummaged through the cabin, trying to find anything you could use for warmth and found only a wool jacket and a blanket. Did Bucky get cold even with the super serum? You shook your head, why worry about him? He wouldn’t even think about your well being.

You wrapped yourself up on the couch in the blanket and jacket. As the blizzard intensified, the wind made a whistling noise against the wood of the cabin, sending a chill down your spine.

You jumped as the door opened and a gust of wind and snow blew through the cabin. Bucky quickly slammed the door shut with his foot and dropped the wood by the fire place.

He takes in your shivering form wrapped up on the couch, “We can’t have you freezing to death. Sam would never forgive me.” He mumbles as he works and gets a fire going, heat filling the cabin.

Bucky rubs his hands together, blowing into them as he stands near the fire for warmth, “You okay?”

“I’m snowed in at this god forsaken cabin in the middle of no where with someone I hate. On Christmas Eve. How do you think I feel?”

“What? You hate me?” He asks, sarcasm laced in his voice, “I had no idea!”

You roll your eyes, standing from your place on the couch and coming closer to the fire, “You’re a pompous jerk who never listens or ever admits when he’s wrong.”

“And you’re a stubborn and spoiled brat who thinks her way is the only way.” He fires back.

You lift your chin in confidence, “because my way is the only way.”

You and Bucky share a look and you try to hold back a laugh, but fail, which only makes him laugh “god, I hate you.”

You shrug, “I only match the feelings shown to me.”

A comfortable silence falls between the two of you as the laughter dies down. The fire thawing your shivering form.

“I am really sorry you have to spend Christmas Eve with me. I know you’d much rather be home watching Christmas movies and doing whatever else you like to do.”

“I’m sure you’d much rather be doing something else too.”

He shrugs, muttering softly, “Honestly, this is better than spending Christmas Eve alone.”

There was a flicker of emotion as you stared at him in a different light. He was vulnerable, something you didn’t see very often and he was sharing that with you. A overwhelming fondness for him was brewing.

“You don’t do anything for Christmas?”

“Nope.” he places a piece of wood on the fire and it crackles, “What’s there for me to do? My family’s gone. And I don’t have anybody.”

He can see you looking at him with pity and he clears his throat, “anyways, I don’t mind it. I like the quiet.” He turns away from you to head back toward the couch but you stop him with a hand on his arm. He turns toward you, “What?”

“Why don’t you spend Christmas with me tomorrow? We can do all I had planned for Christmas Eve.” You give his arm a comforting squeeze, “Since it’s kind of your fault I’m missing out on it in the first place.” You say in a teasing tone.

He chuckles softly, “I don’t need your pity, y/n. I’ll be fine by myself.”

“maybe I won’t be okay being alone.” You try to suggest, turning it around, “I don’t want to spend another Christmas alone.” You knew he wouldn’t show his vulnerable side again out of embarrassment for even letting that sliver of it show.

He stares down at you and without thinking, he slips a piece of hair behind your ear, his finger grazing your soft cheek.

Your mouth is slightly agape as you stare up at him, both of you lost in a trance.

His hand makes its way to your neck, his fingers hot against your skin. You watch his tongue dart out and wet his lips before he’s leaning toward you and pressing his lips against yours.

comments, likes and reblogs are always appreciated xx

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lovelybarnes · 2 years

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Hi Hun, how are you? I just read your story Warmth and loved it! It pictured a realistic Bucky and the problems we know could be real. 👏

I was looking for a blog to request this, and I thought you might nail it after reading Warmth! 😏

So, it's basically the opposite, where the reader is always cold, doesn't matter how many clothes she wears, her body takes longer than normal to heat itself and sometimes it's only with human heat... And she hates cold things, like cold surfaces, cold food (like icecream... It's almost as she can't feel the taste because it's so cold), and beverages (only when the weather is really hot), hardly never takes a cold shower, every bit of wind she wears a jacket (maybe she has some health problem, like hypothyroidism, or she's just sensitive, you choose 🤣).

So, I have a few options for you, just so I don't drop the reader's description of dislikes and take off.

1) Bucky is like in some others stories, a "human furnace" and being in a relationship with him she's always hugging him and being close to him, also being childish to the point of putting her always cold hands on his back or neck. (If they aren't in a relationship, maybe that's how they start to like eachother, they start by being comfortable and in peace in eachothers embrace).

2) basically the first one, but his vibranium arm doesn't heat up like his body, so it's always really cold and reader avoids it at all costs. Bucky's first thought is that the reader is afraid of his arm, as if it could hurt her since it took many lives before, so there's some angsty scenes, maybe a confrontation and it all ends happily!

3) If Bucky is as cold as her he feels more comfortable in complaining about the cold, the cold weather, the cold water, the cold everything, and also talking freely about why he hates everything cold and the physical and emotional pain that comes with it.

You don't have to strictly follow my request, so if you think of another scenario and think it's better than the thoughts I put here, you have total right to write it instead, and I'm sure it'll be amazing! I just hope it can give you some ideas or inspiration for something 😅

Thank you for reading this, and thank you for putting your work here so we can read it ♥️

hello!! thank you!! i'm so happy you enjoyed warmth and it truly means a lot that you think my bucky was accurate!! thank you. so much for requesting!!

here is your request, i hope you like it!!

#angie gets asks #angie gets requests #bucky barnes x

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we-are-dreamers42 · 2 years

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Captain America: The Winter Soldier Part II

Bucky Barnes x OGcharacter

photo by me.

The events in this chapter are the same as the movie Captain America: The Winter Soldier, but with the character thrust in. 99.9% are the movie.

Now with an actual plan Alexandra, Natasha, Steve, and Sam attempt to find out what HYDRA is planning.

Word Count: 1,604

Series List

WARNINGS: Slight swearing, violence

Chapter 12

I waited on the roof of a building across the street with my rifle. The plan wasn’t to shoot him but to scare him enough to comply. Sam called Sitwell, and I waited for the signal. So I listened to his one-sided conversation. I watched through the scope. Making sure there were no surprises.

“Agent Sitwell, how was lunch? I hear the crab cakes here are delicious.” There was a pause. “The good-looking guy in the glasses, you're ten o’clock. Your other ten o’clock.” Sitwell’s mouth moved, but I couldn’t hear. “You’re gonna go around the corner, to your right. There’s a grey car, two spaces down. We’re going to take a ride.” Silence. “Because that tie looks really expensive.” That was the signal that I turned on the red beam. Aimed right at his chest.

He went white and followed Sam’s instructions.

I followed behind Steve as he pushed Sitwell through the door to the roof.

“Tell me about Zola’s algorithm.”

“Never heard of it.”

“What were you doing on the Lemurian Star?”

“I was throwing up, I get seasick.” Steve forced him to the edge of the rooftop. He smiled. “Is this little display meant to insinuate that you’re gonna throw me off the roof? Not really you’re style, Rogers''

“You’re right. It’s not. It’s hers.” Steve stepped aside letting me kick him off the roof edge. I heard his screams as he fell.

“Oh, wait. What about that girl from accounting, Laura..?”

“Lillian. Lip piercing, right?”

“Yeah, she’s cute.” I wasn't sure why I was so invested in Steve going on a date with someone. I could focus that energy on myself.

“Yeah, I’m not ready for that.” Then Sam in his Falcon suit, flew over the edge holding a very scared man. Sam threw him onto the ground behind us. He held his hands up in fear.

“Zola’s algorithm is a program...for choosing Insight’s targets.” He frantically said.

“What targets?”

“You! A TV anchor in Cairo, the Undersecretary of Defense, a high school valedictorian in Iowa City. Bruce Banner, Stephen Strange, anyone who’s a threat to HYDRA! Now or in the future.”

“The future? How could it know?”

He laughed. “How could it not? The 21st century is a digital book. Zola taught HYDRA how to read it. Your bank records, medical histories, voting patterns, e-mails, phone calls, you damn SAT scores. Zola’s algorithm evaluates people’s past to predict their future.”

“And what then?”

“Pierce is going to kill me.”

“What then!” Steve said in a more assertive voice.

“Then the Insight Helicarriers scratch people off the list. A few million at a time.”

Mass genocide was their goal? I thought I was crazy.

We regrouped in Sam’s car. I’m sitting in the middle with a gun on Sitwell so he didn’t do anything stupid.

“HYDRA doesn’t like leaks.” He said.

“So why don’t you try sticking a cork in it.” Sam quipped.

“Insight’s launching in sixteen hours, we’re cutting it a little bit close here,” Nat said.

“I know. We’ll use him to bypass the DNA scans and access the Helicarriers directly.” Steve said.

“What? Are you crazy? That is a terrible idea.”

“Can you just shut up?” I demanded. That’s when it started like clockwork. This time it was different. More defined, clear. I’ve only heard it like this two other times.

“Hurry,” I yelled.

If I would’ve blinked I would’ve missed it. The car window shattered, and I watched as Sitwell was pulled out of the car, and thrown into traffic.

“What the fu-” He was on top of the car and started shooting. Steve pulled the emergency brake. Throwing him forward onto the street.

I lifted my hand to shoot when a car smashed into us throwing me forward. I hit my head on the dash and dropped my gun. The Winter Soldier jumped back onto the car. Smashing his metal hand into the windshield, ripping the steering wheel out.

“Shit,” Sam yelled. I found the gun on the ground and blindly started shooting through the roof.

“Hang on.” Suddenly Steve was grabbing the back of my shirt, and the car started to flip. I grabbed onto Sam, and all four of us skidded down the street on the ripped-off car door.

We came to a stop, and I watched the Winter Soldier joined by HYDRA agents as they started shooting, we scattered. I ran off to find cover behind a car. The others went the other way.

Peaking over the hood of a car. The Winter Soldier shot a grenade at Steve. His shield protected him, but he still went flying over the overpass.

I only had one knife, and half a magazine. The agents are relentlessly shooting. I’m not getting a chance to get off a shot.

Taking a chance I peeked around to see a grenade heading my way. I vaulted over the highway divider just in time my cover was blown up.

I got to get off this bridge. I risked running across the street almost getting run over by a car. I’m about to edge when the car next to me exploded. Hitting me, and knocking me over the edge.

I adjusted myself so I landed on my feet. Not my head. Since I’m down here I could check on Steve. I ran under the overpass.

Because of the sun, I could see the shadow of him. He was looking out not down at me. I sneaked into a position where I could see him perfectly, and I shot. I must’ve hit him since he disappeared behind his barrier.

I moved. Once I was repositioned he reappeared, and started spraying bullets. I really pissed him off. I shot back till I was out, and I ran. Hopefully, I pissed him off enough that he followed me, and the others could get away.

I took a glance back, and he jumped down to the street. I picked up my pace.

I needed a plan. Distract him enough to get close. My combat skills have improved since last time. I hope I’m right.

I recorded an emergency message on my phone and put it on repeat. A little trick Nat taught me.

With it playing behind a car I sat and waited. I didn’t need to watch for him. Since I had a Winter Soldier beacon in my head. I didn’t risk him seeing me. The screaming got louder, and louder till it was deafening. He was right behind me. Then there was an explosion.

I jumped over a car and pinned his upper body between my legs. Taking out my knife I try and stab him in the chest. He grabbed my hand to resist. I tighten my grip with my legs as he tries to buck me off.

Throwing me back against a car my balance faltered, and he was able to throw me off. I went flying across the road. He was about to shoot me when his metal arm went limp.

Nat helped me up, and we ran. Around the corner, there were still so many civilians.

“Get out of the way,” Nat yelled at them. “Run.” A single gunshot rang. Hitting Nat right in the shoulder. She collapsed. Dragging her closer to the car for cover.

“You need to run.” She said.

“No way.”

He stepped around and was about to shoot when Steve came up beside him, and they started to fight. Giving me a chance to check Nat's wound.

“The bullet went straight through.” It wasn’t anywhere life-threatening at the moment, but she was still losing a lot of blood.

“We need to get you out of here. I’m going to distract him. You need to go.” I said.

With my knife in hand, I went out. Steve and I weren’t landing any attacks. Each punch was deflected. Every swipe of the knife dodged.

I got some good kicks, but I got in reach of his metal arm. He grabbed my neck and threw me into a van. I rolled over the hood and landed on the concrete. My head bounced on the ground.

I could only watch Steve fight this guy alone. My head was fuzzy, and I had a hard time moving.

I’m finally getting movement in my arms. Sitting up I saw The Winter Soldier losing his mask. Revealing his face. Then Steve just stood there, mouth wide open.

“Bucky?” Steve stood in the middle of the street dumbfounded.

Bucky? The Bucky Barnes? When Steve brought me to the Smithsonian to teach me his history he told me about his best friend. I even saw pictures. How could I not put this together? I’m smarter than that. Well, I thought.

When I saw the photos I felt peace and calm. Not this roaring rage when I see the man in front of me now. I thought there were similarities, but it didn’t connect. It was the eyes. Even the photos I've seen reminded me of the man in the lab next to me.

We all stood there for a moment. Steve was stunned, I was floored, and The Winter… Bucky was confused.

“Who the hell is Bucky?” He raised his hand to shoot at Steve. He was still standing there frozen. I tackled Steve to the ground just as Bucky shot.

Then there was an explosion. I looked over to see Nat holding a grenade launcher. I turned back ready for another attack, but he was gone. Replaced by police and SHIELD agents.

“Get your hands up. On the ground.” I do as they said.

Chapter 13

#bucky barnes #james bucky barnes #james buchanan barnes #Bucky Barnes x #Original Character #Sebastian Stan #Winter Soldier #Captain America #Steve Rogers #Chris Evans #natasha romanov #Black Widow #Sam Wilson #Falcon #Marvel #MCU #Slowburn

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kurogxrix · 5 months

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me when the READER in the X READER has a name:

like babe the fic ate but i do NOT look like an Aurora🙁

#bucky barnes x reader #peter parker x reader #bruce wayne x reader #din djarin x reader #steve harrington x reader #john price x reader #simon riley x reader #joel miller x reader #writing #fan fiction #fanfic #authors of tumblr #kurogxrix talks

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itshelia · 4 months

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Taking anti-depressant pills?? Seeing a therapist??? Journaling???? No need babe, my fav writer just dropped another x reader fic.

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poltoreveur · 4 months

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I can’t fix him but I could fuck him.

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itsthewritergal · 2 months

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One Week - B.Barnes x reader

PART 1

PART 3

Here is part two my loves, there will be a final 3rd part,

TW: suicide, death, character death, breakup, general sadness, suicide notes, swearing.

(also I won't be making a taglist for the next part so please turn notifs on so you don't miss it!)

Bucky couldn’t watch, he had resulted to cleaning the blood from between the joints on his metal hand. The quinjet hummed slowly, providing little comfort to Bucky’s swirling thoughts. Steve and Wanda were talking quietly, not quietly enough for Bucky’s liking.

“Did you read yours?” Steve asked, gesturing to the letter that Wanda had clutched in her hand

“No, I won’t. She wrote it for me to read when she wasn’t here. She is here. I don’t need to read it” Wanda said sadly, her letter was still sealed in the envelope with her name neatly swirled on the front. Her eyes fell on Y/N’s sleeping frame, Tony had taken the decision to sedate her, she had refused to be taken out of the cell, still clutching desperately to the hope of death. They had all tried their hardest to level with her, but nothing worked, everyone had tried their best, everyone except Bucky. He couldn’t find a single word to say to her as she was desperately asking everyone to kill her.

“We will be landing at the compound in ten minutes” Tony said to nobody in particular but everyone stopped and listened

“I think we should take her to a hospital” Nat said calmly, she was too calm for Bucky’s liking. He couldn’t understand how she wasn’t tearing herself apart for letting Y/N get to this state.

“She needs to be at home” Tony said firmly

“The compound isn’t her home” Nat answered curtly

“It used to be” Wanda mused, thinking of the days that Y/N had spent wandering around the compound as she watched Bucky training, or cooking together, it used to be her home.

“It isn’t now” Clint agreed with Nat, “A few months ago I would have said the same Tony, but now, well now she needs to be at a hospital. She needs to be given the choice to come back with us”

“Cap?” Tony asked,

“I agree” Steve said,

“So do I” Sam added,

Bucky stayed silent.

“Fine, I’ll reroute to the hospital” Tony said with a sigh.

“Mr Stark, Dr Cho told me you were on your way, I’m Doctor Simmonds, I’ll be treating Y/N today,” A doctor said meeting Tony at the entrance door to the Quinjet,

“You need to treat this girl as though she’s one of ours, understand?” Tony said firmly,

“I understand” He said simply following a few nurses as they placed Y/N onto a stretcher and carried her into the hospital, “Can you tell me the extent of her injuries?” He asked

“We haven’t examined her” Nat interrupted, “She was held for around 23 hours, we are unsure of what happened.”

“I understand, now if you could all wait outside. I’m going to examine her and let you know what I’ve found” He said as he disappeared behind a closed door that Y/N was lying behind.

“We should have gone in with her” Steve said,

“He needs to do his job, and we need to wait” Wanda softly said, there was a nervous edge to her words, Bucky picked up on it.

“Coffee anyone?” Nat suggested, a few nodded, “Bucky come help me” She said

“You can handle it” Bucky said his gaze still on the floor

“Now Bucky” Nat left no room for argument and Bucky followed her silently through the halls. “You need to tell me what happened” She said firmly

“I don’t know what you mean” Bucky replied

“When you broke up, what the hell happened?” Nat said, her eyes flaming with something Bucky didn’t want to deal with

“We broke up” he said bluntly “There isn’t anything else to say”

“You’ve been seeing other people whilst she’s been planning her suicide” She whispered fiercely, “What the hell did you do to her?” It was one of the only times Bucky had seen Nat loose her cool in such a dramatic way,

“Nothing happened” He reiterated simply

“Don’t be that guy” nat snapped, “Five coffee’s please, black, double shot in all of them” She said to the girl stood starstruck behind the counter

“Look, nothing happened” Bucky said “We split”

“Who made the decision?”

“I did” he replied, his eyes fixating on his boots once more,

“Why?”

“We didn’t work together, do you need a full rundown on my life?” He snapped louder than he wanted,

“Just on your breakup” Nat replied quickly, “Why didn’t you work?”

“I couldn’t do it, she was too much.” He didn’t mean it, he didn’t know how he could explain it in any other way to Nat

“Too much how?”

“Here you are” the girl behind the counter placed the coffees down, Nat muttered a thank you.

“I like my life, I like being alone. I enjoy coming home alone. I don’t need anyone else in my life to look after,” He snapped,

“You’re not telling the truth” Nat whispered “You forget, I used to be the best interrogator that SHIELD had ever seen. I see through you Bucky, and whatever you did to hurt that girl—”

“I told her I didn’t love her,” he whispered “I told her she was too much for me. Told her that she was naive and young and stupid. I said that I didn’t want to deal with her or look after her or have to love her”

“Why would you do that?”

“Because I was scared, she is good. She is innocent, and kind, and gentle, and she kissed me as if I was good too. I’m not. So I ended things, and I said things that I won’t ever repeat because the words already haunt me enough” he sighed “I dated those girls after her because they weren’t good people, or nice people, I suited them better, there wasn’t anything to ruin. With Y/N, I was killing her slowly and she didn’t even know it” Bucky said, his chest heaving once he finished ,

“Bucky” Nat started,

“I needed her to hate me” He said softly,

“You failed” Tony said from behind him, “I came to help get the coffee” He explained once Nat gave him a confused look “She doesn’t hate you, she hates herself. I dread to think what she’s been thinking of herself the past few months because of you”

“Tony enough” Nat stopped him

“Y/N is lying in a hospital bed sedated because he was a coward” Tony snapped, “When she wakes up, you best hope that she forgives you, because if there’s a shred of anything other than forgiveness in her words I will kill you” He said turning and walking away. His words were calm, and collected, Bucky knew he was sincere. It should have scared him, but it didn’t.

“Mr Stark?” Dr Simmonds asked coming out of Y/N’s room,

“How is she?” Tony stood up from the uncomfortable plastic chair,

“We need to admit her to an inpatient facility” His voice made Bucky’s blood run cold, “In order to do this I need a signature from her next of kin” he continued to explain, “I reached out to her sister, who is on file as her next of kin, except it seems that she passed away a few months back and I need to know if there are any other living relatives for me to contact for permission” The room went silent,

“Her sister died?” Wanda parroted

“According to our records around ten months ago” Dr Simmonds said,

“She doesn’t have any other family, her parents died when she was little and her sister was all she had left” Bucky said stoically

“This isn’t the answer you’re going to want to hear but without a next of kin I can’t admit her” Dr Simmonds explained softly

“We can look after her at the compound” Tony said,

“Tony, we can’t make a decision like that without talking to her” Steve cut in.

“I agree with the Captain, Mr Stark. She’s still drowsy from the sedation but uprooting her in the state she’s in isn’t a good idea”

“What state is she in?” Nat asked

“She’s malnourished, dehydrated, exhausted. Nothing physically wrong apart from a few minor lacerations and bruising, but she’s not been taking care of herself. If you hadn’t told me she’d only been taken for 24 hours I’d have guessed it would have been at least 3 months” He explained

“She’s depressed” Tony muttered softly

“Without talking to her at length I can’t make that diagnosis, she’s clearly grieving her sister. Amongst other things but I don’t know what those are yet. I’ve asked for psych to come and give her a full examination just so we know what we are dealing with. But without a next of kin, my hands are tied”

“What about an old next of kin?” Bucky asked slowly,

“Y/N would have to sign off on it, are you a past next of kin for her?” The Dr asked, eyeing Bucky with a look of distain, the pieces clicking into place slowly. Bucky nodded, “I’d have to check with the board” The Dr explained.

“Can we see her?” Wanda asked changing the subject quickly.

“I will ask her, but I’m not promising anything” Dr Simmonds said with a nod, retuning back behind the closed door.

The next few minutes were painful, nobody dared to sit down in case Y/N asked to see them. Bucky could hear muffled voices behind the door and it killed him that Y/N was so close but he couldn’t reach her, he wouldn’t dare to reach her in case of anything making her worse.

“Mr Stark” Dr Simmonds said stepping out the room, “She has agreed to see you”

Tony didn’t say a word and instead followed the doctor through the door and into the room. Y/N was sat in bed, restraints lay idle on the bed, untied, Tony’s eyes went straight to them.

“They took them off about an hour ago” She said quietly, knowing what Tony was thinking.

“How are you feeling?” He asked carefully sitting in a plastic chair that had been placed at her bedside,

“I’m sorry” She said, calmly.

“None of that” Tony said firmly, patting her hand comfortingly

“I didn’t want anyone to know, I just needed it to be over” She said “And then they came and it seemed like the best way out. I’m sorry I put you through all that”

“You don’t need to apologise,” Tony said “Let me help you, please?”

“I’ve spoken to the doctor, lots of doctors and I’m okay. Really. I’m okay” She promised sincerely

“They want to admit you” Tony said slowly, watching as Y/N’s face fell,

“They said”

“They can’t though, because of your next of kin. They need a signature and it—”

“She’s dead” Y/N bluntly whispered

“I would like for you to come and live at the compound for the next few weeks, just until you get back on your feet” He said softly

“I won’t put you or anyone else through that”

“You mean Bucky” Tony said, he knew it was risky to bring him up but he needed to know how best to help Y/N.

Y/N’s eyes glazed over sadly, and she pulled her knees up to her chest.

“This isn’t his fault. Believe it or not the breakup was actually probably the least bad thing that happened this year” She said with a half hearted chuckle,

“I’m sorry, I should have been there for you” Tony said, “everyone is here to help. Just let us look after you for a week. That’s all”

“I promise I’m okay”

“I know you are, I need to do this for me, let me help” Tony said, it was a lie. He needed to know that Y/N was somewhere safe and once she was there for a week he could convince her to stay longer, he was sure of it.

“One week”

“One week” Tony nodded.

Tony had instructed Wanda, Bucky and Steve to set up a room for Y/N whilst he filled out some paperwork for Y/N.

“How are you feeling?” Steve asked Bucky as they walked through the empty compound, towards one of the guest rooms,

“I don’t think you should be asking me that” Bucky kept his eyes trained on the ground. His shoulders hunched,

“This is as hard on you as it is on her” Wanda said

“It’s not, I never tried to end my life. I made her do that. It was my words that forced her into that position” Bucky said, his filter had gone, he was bleeding raw emotions onto the floor of the compound and he couldn’t stop.

“That wasn’t your fault, you can’t stay with someone just in case they get depressed when you leave. That’s basically blackmail” Steve said

“She didn’t deserve this. I promised her I’d be with her for the rest of her life. I swore she’d never be alone again and then I left. I’m no better than anyone else in her life”

“She doesn’t hate you” Wanda said,

“What?” Bucky asked,

“I read the letter, I didn’t think I was going to but I couldn’t stop myself” Wanda said pulling it out of her pocket “but she told me that it wasn’t your fault”

“Stop” Bucky said,

“Bucky she didn’t do it because of you” Wanda said

“She needs some plants in here” Bucky said firmly as they opened up the door to Y/N’s new room,

“Buck” Steve started

“And her fairy lights, on the ceiling, she likes them to look like stars” Bucky continued. “We don’t have very long, we need to get started”

taglist

@cookingdancingchick @vicmc624 @mostlymarvelgirl @olipiaa @scifinerd1818 @ordelixx @differenttyphoonwerewolf @unaxv @bumblingbamblingbandofbaboons @classyunknownlover @julvrs@scott-loki-barnes @cjand10 @pigeonmama @sassyqueencowboy @callmissrogers @wintrsoldrluvr @weallhaveadestiny

#bucky barnes #bucky angst #bucky x reader #bucky #bucky barnes x y/n #itsthewritergal #bucky masterlist #bucky barnes x reader #bucky x #bucky fanfic #bucky barnes fluff #bucky barnes masterlist #bucky barnes x #bucky barnes smut

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l0velysmut · 30 days

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family: “why are you just sitting in ur room smiling at ur phone?”

me who’s been reading smut about fictional characters for the past 6 hours:

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buckybraneslover111 · 2 years

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Trust No One - B.B.

Summary: enemies to lovers Thorpe Bucky Barnes is part of the Mafia, reader's father Jeff is Bucky's right-hand man, his go-to guy to do his dirty work, and the reader doesn't like it so she hates Bucky and hates what her father does.

warnings; mention of alcohol abuse, mention of death, dark!bucky and IDK what else but enjoy:)

a/n: lemme know if i should post part 2:) reblog and like if you like this series!

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The Mafia. The most powerful and organized crime group of men, dating back to 1869. They are known for murder, extortion, corruption of police, gambling, tax fraud, and many other illegal agreements and transactions. You never thought you would ever be in love with anyone who was a part of that corrupt group, but here you were, sitting in a house full of men smoking cigars and drinking a bunch of alcohol. You were dragged to this house because your father was one of the men who did all of his dirty work. You hated that your dad was a part of this cult-like gang. He would only bring you to these meetings, to show all the men in the gang that you were off limits and it was also like a ‘look out for my daughter,’ type of way too. You were an only child. Your mother passed away while giving birth to you, 18 years ago. When your mom passed away, your dad joined the mafia to make money to keep you safe and also himself. Your dad would get paid to go out, follow these people who owed money to him, and threaten them a bit, and when they would pay in the time frame he would give them, he would go out and kill them and hide the bodies with the other members. If those bodies were ever found, your dad would go to jail, but then again, he would get away with it because the cops were in on the mafia in some way, you never understood. Your dad was his right-hand man, if he called, your dad would drop anything he was doing to go to whatever job he needed. You tried to convince your dad to just leave the mafia and run away and change your names, but he said they would always find him, so it didn't matter what he would do, they would find him and kill him. So you dealt with the fact that your dad just killed people and got away with it, every time. You hated the guy in charge too. You hated that he made your dad do all his dirty. Like why couldn't he just do it? Why couldn't he get someone else to do it? No, it always had to do with your dad.

You were pulled from your thoughts when you heard yelling coming from behind the closed door where your dad and that dumb mafia head guy were. You sighed and sat up from the couch fixing your leather jacket. The door swung open and your dad and he walked out laughing as he patted your dad’s back. You looked at the tall brunette-haired man. You stared at his exposed chest, the shirt he was wearing was unbuttoned a bit showing all the tattoos on his chest, his metal black and gold arm exposed. His hair was pulled back in a small ponytail, gelled back with two strings of hair pulled out to be in front of his face. The shirt he was wearing was hugging his chest loosely. Your eyes roamed to his lower region, his black dress pants hugging against his legs tightly, you could see the outline of his crotch through his pants. As you were studying his body, you were pulled from your thoughts when you heard your dad call your name, “y/n, you ready?” you looked up at your dad and then looked at the tall brunette standing next to him, who was already looking at you with lustful eyes, he had a little smirk on his face, he knew you were staring at his body, he could feel your eyes on him the moment he walked out of the room. You stood up fixing your leather jacket again and walked towards him nodding.

“Hello y/n.” the brunette said to you when you stood by your dad, smirking.

“Hello, James.” you said his name with no emotion whatsoever. You rolled your eyes and didn't look at him facing away from him. You hated him when he said your name. He would drag the last letter out in your name and it was annoying.

“Alright Jeff, I will call you. You both have a goodnight. Bye y/n.” he smirked at you as you walked out of the house with your father following behind you. You got into his brand new 2021 midnight blue dodge charger. You loved his car so much, you wanted one of your own, but you loved your 2020 BMW M340. You got your BMW a few months back from when your dad all of sudden got a bunch of money from a hit he did for Bucky. He brought you the car as a surprise birthday gift for your 18th birthday. As you drove home in the car with your dad, you looked out the window and sighed.

“What's wrong y/n?” he looked at you then back at the road.

“Yeah, I'm fine.” you rolled your eyes sighing.

“No youre not, you are upset. Listen to me, I know you don't like my job, but it pays the bills y/n. If i didn't have this job, we would not have the things we have now. We would be living on the streets. James has helped us a lot, and if killing people that owes him money is paying the bills, then I am going to continue to do my job, so you can have a good life and we can both be protected.” he sighed at you as you pulled up to your house. You looked over at your dad and nodded.

“Yeah dad i know but i still don't like it. But anyways, I'm going to a party tonight downtown, so I'll be back later tonight, don't wait for me.” you got out of the car, and he got out and looked at you.

“You need protection, let me get one of you to watch over you at the party.” he walked over to you, taking his phone out.

“No dad, I don't need protection, I'll be fine.” you frowned.

“Yes you do, its downtown. So I'm going to have one of the guys meet you there to protect you.” he frowned upon getting on the phone.

“You are ridiculous, I'm leaving.” you get into your car and drive off down the street.

…

You were at a party at your best friend Clint’s house. You had changed in his room before the party with the bag of clothes you had in your car. You were drinking alcohol in a red solo cup and dancing with Natasha and Clint on the dance floor.

You turned around still dancing when you were met with a pair of eyes staring directly at you and you stopped dancing looking at the blonde fohawk haired man who was standing about 200 feet away from you, watching you dance. You sighed and walked over to the guy and downed the rest of your drink, passing by him, “Steve, I don't need a babysitter.” you sighed as you walked down the hallway to a bathroom as you stumbled in and looked at yourself in the mirror. Steve walked in behind you and leaned up against the door frame.

“Well, Bucky sent me because your dad was worried you would drink too much and you wouldn't make it back home. I'm just doing my job y/n. You should probably stop drinking though, you look a little too drunk. I'll drive you home. Come on.” he walked up behind you.

“I think I'm gonna be sick.” you rushed to the toilet dropping to your knees and threw up in the toilet. Steve walked over and sighed holding your hair up so you wouldnt get it wet. He pulled his phone out and called someone.

“Yeah she threw up, I think she drank too much. Do I bring her home? Okay, i'll bring her.” he hung up the phone and he rubs your back as you continue to throw up. “Im taking you home y/n, you've had too much to drink.”

…

The next morning you woke up groaning. You had a major headache from drinking too much last night at the party. You sit up and notice you are back in your bed at home and you are wearing your pjs. You frowned confused, but rushed out of bed running to the connected bathroom and throwing up in the toilet. You groaned and sat down on the floor with your head resting on the toilet as you flushed it. Jeff walked into your room and then looked in your bathroom and saw you sitting on the floor, “Oh there's my party girl.” he walked over to you handing you a glass of water and two advils. “Here take these.” you took them from him and put the pills in your mouth and drank the water swallowing them, “So i'm going out for today, James is sending Steve over to keep an eye on you and make sure you don't have alcohol poisoning.”

You rolled your eyes, “Gonna go kill more innocent people.” you got up from the floor walking to your bedroom, “Stop trying to act like you care about me, when you spend more time with whatever job that piece of shit has you do.” you lay back in bed and sigh.

“Hey! That piece of shit is my boss y/n! The money I make pays for the shit you have! So be grateful for once! You never appreciate anything I do for you! I do everything for you! I took this job for you y/n! Stop disrespecting me!” he yelled following after you.

“I will stop disrespecting you, when you stop killing innocent people for that piece of dog shit.” you rolled over on to your side facing away from him.

He sighed, “Fine, fine have it your way y/n. I'm leaving, enjoy your day.” he walked out of your room and walked out of the house. You groaned and hid under the covers, the sun making your eyes too sensitive. You fell back to sleep trying to sleep off your hangover.

…

Later that night, your dad came back from whatever job he was doing for Bucky. You were getting ready for your shift at this very high-end LA nightclub you worked at. Clint and Natasha both work there and they got you a job as a bottle service girl as Clint was the bartender and Natasha was also a bottle service girl. You hated dressing up in the attire that they gave you, but because you knew the general manager that owned the nightclub, he let you wear whatever you wanted as long as you showed some skin. You finished curling your hair as your dad walked into your bathroom.

“What time will you be home tonight?” he leaned against the doorframe crossing his arms on his chest.

“2 am probably. I'm working at 7pm so I'll be there until closing.” you finished your curls and looked at him, “Why are you going to send Jet to come watch over me? Make sure i actually go to work.” you roll your eyes.

“No, I trust you enough to go to work. Have fun.” he walked to his room and shut the door.

...

It was 4 hours into your shift at the night club and you were having fun. It was a Friday night so everyone was there and they were tipping very well. You walked to the bar and put the $100 tip you got from a table into your tip jar and you looked at Clint, who was making drinks along with 4 other bartenders. “Hey, are there any more privates coming in yet?” he looked at you and nodded.

“Yeah and it's your turn,” he pointed to the table all the way in the corner, “And you will never believe who it is.”

You looked at him, “Who?”

“It's your best friend.” he smirked, being sarcastic, as he handed you two bottles of wine and 4 empty glasses, “Mr. James Barnes.” you looked at him with wide eyes.

“How?! How did I end up with him at the table?!” you frowned holding everything in your hand.

“Well, Nat has 5 tables and you have 4, plus Brittney has 5, so it's your turn girl. You'll be fine, just go, put the glasses on the table and open the bottles and you'll be fine.” he smiled, giving you a little push. You sighed and lifted the bottles over your head as you walked towards Bucky’s private table. As you approached, his body guards that were standing at the end of the opening moved and you walked up the two steps and looked at the curly haired man sitting back against the leather fabric of the couch with both of his arms stretched out on the back of the couch, he was talking to 3 other man who looked like businessmen. You set down the glasses and the two bottles as you opened up one of the pouring wine into the glasses. You looked up and saw Bucky staring right at you. You blushed and finished pouring the wine and placed the bottle down on the table. Bucky leaned forward and grabbed your wrist and you looked down at him blushing.

“I need 4 shots of vodka and 4 shots of whiskey, make mine a double. Chop chop sweetheart.” he smirked and let go of your wrist as you quickly walked out of the table area and walked back to the bar.

“Clint, i need 4 shots of vodka, 3 shots of whiskey and a double shot of whiskey.” he nodded and started pouring the drinks and placing them on the tray for you. “I fucking hate him.” you sighed.

“What did he do?” he looks at you.

“Just his presence here makes me cringe and annoyed.” you grabbed the tray and lifted it above your head so they didn't spill if someone bumped into you. As you approached the table and walked up, you noticed that there were girls sitting with each of the men there. When you looked at Bucky, there was a girl sitting next to him sipping on her martini as he was whispering in her ear and rubbing her exposed thigh. You started to get this sense of jealousy running through your body and you weren't sure why. I mean yeah he was attractive, but you hated him. Yeah his tattoos turned you on, but you hated him. His smirk he would send you when you stared at him a bit too long was hot as fuck, but you hated him. You set down all of the shot glasses on the table and walked down and back to the bar. Your face was red and you slammed the tray down on the counter a little too hard. Clint looked at you and frowned.

“What did he say now?” he walked over to you.

“N-Nothing. I don't know what's going on with me.” you start to panic a bit.

“What do you mean?” he said, confused.

“I don't know. I went over to bring him the drinks, and I saw him talking to this girl and touching her and shit, and..” you sighed, “..I just got jealous. Like why is she all over him like that? Like why is he even talking to her?” you looked at Clint and he was looking at you with wide eyes and his mouth gaped open a little, “What? What's wrong?” you looked and saw Natasha walk over. She looks at the both of you then at you.

“What happened?” she said, confused.

Clint looks at you then at her, “She caught feelings.” you both look at him

“What?! No! No i didnt! I didnt catch anything! I hate him, I know I hate him.” you looked between them two.

They both look at you and smirk, “You caught feelings for him, you dirty whore.” Natasha said, smirking.

You blushed a dark red and tried to hide your face with your hands, “Okay yeah maybe! But like how is that even possible? I literally hate him so much.”

“You hate him because he isn't with you.” Clint jokes around, “You wish you were that girl he was talking to?”

“No I don't!”

“YES YOU DO!!” they both said at the same time smirking.

“Okay fine! Yes I do!” you hide your face. They both laugh.

“Wow, and to think you said you hated him so much because of what he makes your dad do, but now you like him? That changes everything.” Nat says.

“Can you please take his table Nat? I can't bear to go back over there.” you pouted.

“Yeah that's fine, you can take private 12, they tip well.”

“Thank you.” you smiled.

…

20 minutes later, Natasha comes up to you as you were at a table cleaning it up, “Hey.” you look up at her and grab the dirty glasses.

“Hey, what's up?” you pick up the bucket.

“He told me to tell you that he wants you to be his bottle service and not me. He literally wouldn't let me go unless it was you.” she said.

“Are you serious?” you sighed, “Fine, you can take your private 12 back then.” you cleaned up the rest and took the dishes to the back to get cleaned. You walked back out and walked over to Bucky’s table. He was now sitting with just Steve and Sam. You walked up the steps, “Can I get you guys anything else?” you cleaned up the empty glasses.

“Why did you switch tables with her?” Bucky said as you looked up at him and gulped.

“What do you mean?”

“I know you told her to switch tables with you. So why did you do it?” he leaned forward onto his knees looking up at you through his curls.

“I-It was getting overcrowded and I had too many tables so she was just helping me out.”

“Wrong, try again.” he frowned at you, he took his gun out of the hostler and he put it on the table in front of him. “Tell me why you hate me so much, because I know you do.” He looks up at you and leans back on the couch.

“I-I don't hate you.” you gulped and eyed his gun.

He watched you look back and forth from his gun, “You do. Now are you going to tell me why? Or are you just going to continue to look at the gun, contemplating whether or not you want to pick it up and shoot me right now?” he frowns at you.

“Fine, you wanna know the truth?” you looked at him getting angry at the way he was talking to you, “Yes i do hate you. Why? Because of you, my dad has to live knowing he is killing innocent people because of you. Because you are too much of a pussy to do it yourself so you have other people do your dirty work. You pay him to kill people because of your corrupt gang. You sell drugs to the homeless or middle class people, knowing damn well, they won't be able to pay you back all the money, so you send my dad to ‘finish the job’ as you so kindly put it. Do i have the right to be mad at you, hell mother fucking yeah i do.”

He chuckled at you shaking his head, “If im such a bad person and i pay your dad to do my dirty work, then how would you have had enough money to pay for that new BMW you drive? Hmm? Because if it wasn't for me, you wouldn't have such nice things. I gave your dad an opportunity to make money in his and your time of need. You think i enjoy killing people that owe me shit? You think i just come up with this stuff out of nowhere? No, because at the end of the day, I still have to answer to MY boss. So continue to hate me, but just remember-.” he picks up his gun and stood up, “I will always have control of your dad and if i say jump, he will ask how high. And as for me being a pussy for not doing my own dirty work. Sweetheart, I do my own killings, whether it is behind closed doors or out in public.``He points his gun at a random guy and shoots him. The music stops as everyone screams and runs out of the club. You cover your ears then look at Bucky who is smirking at you. Steve, Bucky and Sam all get up and leave the club by the back door. You sighed as the club was now filled up police as they took the poor innocent man to the hospital.

…

You finally made it home after 4am. After that whole thing, you had to stay and help clean up the blood and the whole night club. You walked into the house and saw your dad sitting on the couch, he looked over at you and got up walking over to you, “What the hell is wrong with you?” he frowned as you walked up the stairs to your room and he followed.

“What did I do?” you frowned.

“You made James shoot an innocent person at your job! Why did you have to provoke him?” you walked into your bedroom dropping your bag on your bed.

“I didnt provoke, he asked me a question and I answered it, he knew I would lie so I had to answer it truthfully.” you crossed your arms and rolled your eyes.

“Just leave him alone y/n! He doesn't like to be provoked! Don't challenge him on anything! God have I taught you nothing!” He walked out of your room and shut the door. You sigh and roll your eyes, getting undressed and getting into bed. You fell asleep quickly as you were so exhausted.

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buckyalpine · 3 months

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40s Sergeant Barnes with a nurse and a Sergeant kink (and breeding and house wife kink, virginity loss). This was supposed to be a pure smutty drabble but then I got in my feelings and added some fluff and angst but I promise Bucky is still a dirty, nasty little fuck in this. Just with a sweeter ending. The one he deserves.

Listen just imagine what a cute, sexy menace Sergeant James Buchanan Barnes would be just waking up from an injury when his eyes flutter open to the pretty nurse he’s been eyeing from the day he started. You’re not a shy, dainty little thing, nope. Not at all.

You bark out orders like a drill Sergeant and one glare from you is all it takes to get everyone in line and on task without a second thought. Even his superiors are scared of you, biting their tongue when you stitch them up and send them on their way before running off to your next patient.

Bucky was in love.

“Well aren’t you a sight for sore eyes” he rasps, throwing you a charming smirk while you roll your eyes in response, shaking your head. "How'd I get so lucky, got a my little angel tendin' to me"

“I see your injury hasn’t stopped hurt that mouth of yours Sergeant" You quirk an eyebrow while he playfully huffs as you change the dressing covering a gash on his abdomen. You swab the area clean and he doesn't flinch even though you know it must burn like hell, his muscles tensed while he continues to watch you with heart eyes. "Now you know I'm not your little angel, I got 20 other men to fix up, you better be out of this bed as soon as you're all healed up"

“C’mon sugar, you're breakin' my heart" Bucky gives you a little pout with those perfect lips and you catch the twinkle in his eye as he looks over your form with complete admiration. He loved your sassy, take no shit attitude and it's taking everything in him to calm himself down so he doesn't get a hard on right there in front of you.

"You'd tell that to a cat with three legs if it was in a nurses outfit" You try your best to not give into his flirty comments and puppy eyes, knowing damn well he's a heart breaker but he makes it so difficult when he continues to woo you with his boyish charm.

He can't help but chase after you; catching the way your eyes always dart around with anxiety when his group returns from an operation, relief flooding them when you finally spot him. He loves your indifferent attitude, patting him down to make sure he's uninjured but your furrowed brows and the tiny pout on your lips give away that you're worried.

How can he just let you go. Every time you check over him, he needs you closer.

So much closer.

"Ms. y/l/n, Sergeant Barnes is requesting you in his tent, he says it's urgent"

You shake your head looking over at the time, quietly making your way over to the tent he's stationed at, thankful that a number of troops were sleeping so you wouldn't be seen as you quickly slip inside.

“And what hurts now” you sass with your hands on your hips seeing the soldier in perfect health, doing your best to assess him without letting him know.

"Always checkin' over me" Bucky chuckles, seeing what you're doing; his words making your cheeks heat up, "Knew you cared about me sugar"

"Well what am I doin' here" You give him an unconvincing huff, struggling to keep your voice steady, refusing to meet his eyes, keeping your gaze on his silver dog tags instead. It doesn't help that he's handsome as hell with a light dusting of scruff covering his cheeks. Bucky's never seen you flustered before and it evokes something in him, all the blood in his body rushing south seeing your fingers twitch.

All he wanted to do was kiss you but now-

“Help your Sergeant out doll” He whispers, taking another step forward till his chest brushes against yours, his hand coming to tilt your chin up, "Will you?"

You gasp feeling his hardness press against your thigh, your heart fluttering wildly as his thumb traces your lips, any semblance of control you had slipping away feeling the warmth of his skin.

“Y-yes Sergeant Barnes”

His lips press against yours, soft and sweet, a stark contrast to the way his body was screaming for him to pick you up and toss you onto his cot.

"Sweet like sugar" He lets his hands fall to your waist, pulling you flush against his body while your arms drape on top of his shoulders. You stand on your toes chasing more of his lips and he chuckles at the needy whine you let out when he pulls away for air.

Now let's say your first night together was actually quite tame. He kisses you again and you swoon when he repeatedly checks in with you before going any further. His hand slips under your skirt, letting his fingers toy with places no on else has touched. With each night, he needs you more and more until he can't hold off any longer and neither can you.

You sneak into his tent and this time he doesn't hesitate to undress you completely, not when he needs you bare with nothing separating you both. You feel your heart race as he lies on top of you, draping a thin sheet over himself when you shiver at the chill night air. You feel his body heat instantly warm you up, his heavy cock resting between your soaked folds.

"Are you sure, sugar?" He asks, his hand cupping your cheek and stroking your skin.

"Please Sergeant" You whisper and the way you say his title makes his cock twitch. There's something so different about you when you're in his bed, a sweet little bunny giving herself to him completely. It drives him feral with a need to make you feel good, make you cry for his cock and his cock only, to keep you nice and full of him.

You don't look twice at anyone else and here you are completely naked in his tent with your tight little virgin cunt, your legs spread open so he can put his dick in you; there was no way he was ever going to let you go.

"You tell me if it's too much, alright?" His lips tickle your neck as kisses your skin while rubbing his heavy cock through your folds, coating it in your slick, "Breathe for me"

He slips his tags into your mouth as he starts to press in, the initial sting making you bite down hard onto the metal feeling a mix of pleasure and pain. You whine at the way he stretches you open, your thighs squeezing around his waist, nails digging into his shoulders.

"Shhh, that's it love, doin' so good for me so good for your Sergeant, look how you're takin' all of me baby" He looks down to where you're both connected as he continues to slowly push himself in till hes fully sheathed inside you. He gives you time to adjust, slipping his tags out of your lips and letting his tongue lace with yours instead, his balls already throbbing with how tightly you were squeezing his cock.

"Please-Sergeant" your heels press into his ass desperate for him to move, gasping when he starts to slowly roll his hips, barely pulling out.

"I got you love-don't worry" Bucky moves as slowly as he could not wanting to hurt you, taking just as much care of you as you had with him countless of times.

But he can only keep up at that pace for so long. Your muffled whines and moans don't help the way his mind is already spiraling. His pretty little nurse all spread out just for him, taking his raw, bare cock in her soaking pussy, squeezing him so tight, he was only a few strokes from cumming.

If it were up to him he would've proposed on the spot, thinking about making love to you on your wedding night, seeing you all shy and sweet wrapped up in soft white lace. If you were his wife, he'd take you apart every which way, not giving a fuck about traditions, taking you right on the dining room table.

You'd be the prettiest little thing for him to come home to, such a good wife all dirty just for her husband. Only he'd know the way your mouth would slobber all over his cock like your life depended on it. The way you'd moan at the taste of his cum. Bucky's eyes rolled back at the thought of you with nothing but some heels and a string of pearls he'd put around your neck while he stuffed you with cum and emptied his balls in you.

"S-Sergeant-I-oh god" You whimpered feeling his cock grow harder, your pussy pulling him right back in, feeling the coil low in your belly pull tighter and tighter as he hit that spot.

Meanwhile Bucky's jaw clenched as he felt his balls pull tight to his body, the tip leaking steadily in your pussy. His mind spiraled into places he didn't think would exist before he met you, rogue thoughts he only entertained when he had his dick in his hand. The harder he fucked you the more he thought about how gorgeous you'd look with a swollen belly.

Fuck, imagine if he got you pregnant right then and there. That nurses uniform would no longer fit you. Everyone would know he knocked you up, your perfectly round tummy carrying Sergeant James Barnes' baby, breasts heavy with milk, God, he wasn't going to last-

“Gonna let your Sergeant pump you full of cum?” He pants, letting his hands grip onto your hips like his life depends on it, the wiry hair at the base of his cock rubbing against your clit.

“Yes!!” You sob, biting down onto his shoulder to keep your cries down while he continues to fuck you into oblivion. You don't understand how such filth can spew from that pink, pouty little mouth of his. "Please-please-need-youI-I'm gonna-"

"M'yours sweet girl, m'all yours, go on, cum for me love, cum on my cock, it's all yours" He gazed into your eyes, cooing at your parted lips and sweat slicked skin. It didn't take long for you to shatter around him his lips smashing against yours to swallow your moans.

"Want your cum Sergeant" You beg , desperate to have him claim you from the inside.

"Oh fuck baby, y-you can't say that, m-gonna, oh fuckkk" Your words throw Bucky right off the edge as he lets out a deep groan stilling his hips and shooting endless ropes of his spend into you. You both lay in comfortable silence, your fingers playing with his hair; his usual kempt brown locks now disheveled .

“Y’know m’gonna marry you” his scruffy cheek nuzzles into your neck as he continues to stay deep inside you as his cock softens, “after all this is over. Gonna put a ring on that finger”

His words send a different wave of emotions over you, feeling more safe than ever, clinging onto him as tightly as possible. You let a whimper slip out and he pulls away from your neck with an expression of concern.

“What is it love” Bucky coos, wiping away the tears that slip you, stroking your cheek while you bite back a sniffle.

“Do you mean it? After this is all over?” You weren't sure what Bucky would want-there was still a war going on. Anything could happen. Perhaps this was just to keep his bed warm. Something to keep him calm, you were just someone to-

"Of course sugar" Bucky presses a firm kiss to your forehead, silencing the thoughts that tried to run wild. "You're mine"

And of course he gets his happy ending. Because when it's all over, he gets the ring for the girl he loves. He's on one knee, proposing to you with the sweetest words. He treats you like a princess on your wedding night, making love all night long until the sun is up.

There isn't a surface in the house he's left untouched. Nothing makes him more feral than moaning for his pretty wife, constantly taking her hand and wrapping it around his cock, watching that diamond glint with each stroke.

It doesn't take long for you to feel a little squeamish, knowing all the tell tale signs.

The day you tell him he's going to be a dad is one of the happiest days of his life. There isn't a single night that goes by where he isn't nuzzling his face into your tummy, talking to your little one.

Everything was perfecttt.

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tweedlydumbtweedlydoo · 1 year

Text

Rum & Splash of Eggnog | Bucky Barnes x reader

Seasonal Prompt List + Send one in with any one on THIS list :)

Requested by: anon

Prompts: (bolded)

11. “Woah there… have a little eggnog with your rum.”

a/n: Hope you enjoy your well deserved Booze & Bucky! x Thanks for requesting

**MASTERLIST**

Requests: {OPEN} CLOSED

********************************************************************************************NOT MY GIF, CREDIT TO OWNERS

Finally, it was here. Christmas break! These last two weeks before Christmas break have been absolute hell and absolute chaos. Being a middle school teacher, it was hard enough keeping the kids attention to learn but when the kids return from Thanksgiving break and Christmas nears? It’s hopeless. The students minds were on Christmas break and hyped up like the energizer bunny. It was exhausting and you felt like you were dragging yourself day after day.

You threw open the door of your shared apartment, practically dragging your feet through the door. It felt like you’d been thrown through the ringer half a million times.

“please tell me-” You start as you walk through the apartment toward the kitchen. There he stood, your love. your best friend and the man of your dreams. He started with an R and ended with an M. Oh and there was Bucky, two empty glasses with ice already in his hand.

“Have I said how much I love you?” You dropped your bags and coat in the middle of the kitchen, kicking your shoes off without a care in the world. You’d worry about picking it up later. Right now, you deserved a drink.

He chuckles, “me or the rum?” he asks jokingly, setting the glasses down on the island in front of you as you plopped down in the stool. “And there’s eggnog in the fridge to go along with it.”

You don’t even hear him, twisting open the bottle of rum and pouring you a glass.

Bucky turns around with the carton of eggnog in his hand, his eyes going wide as he watches you down the glass of pure rum. “Woah there… have a little eggnog with your rum.”

If looks could kill. Bucky immediately closes his mouth. Abort mission, Bucky, abort mission. He fixes him a glass of eggnog and rum, as you pour yourself another, however this time you do add the eggnog.

You take a deep breath, shoulders sagging in exhaustion. Bucky rounds the kitchen island toward you, rubbing your back. You groan as his hand puts more pressure, kneading out the knots.

“I’ve also planned your favorite for dinner tonight. Along with a bucket of chocolate chip cookie dough, your favorite christmas movies and even picked up those matching christmas pjs you begged me to buy.” Bucky says with a kiss to your temple, “and I have a hot bath with candles and your favorite bubble bath already ran.”

You lean into his side, “I don’t deserve you.” This Christmas break was going to be the best one yet.

comments, likes & reblogs greatly appreciated xx

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gutsby · 4 months

Text

Wedded Bliss

Pairing: Mob!Bucky x Reader

Summary: The marriage was arranged, and the sex is deranged. Bucky is so obsessed with your pussy that he almost forgets he’s meant to be faking this whole thing—and hating it, like sworn enemies are supposed to do.

Warnings: 18+. Dubcon. Corruption kink. Virginity loss. Arranged marriage between enemies. Brat taming. Breeding kink. Beefy, mob boss Bucky devolving into a fall-to-his-knees-just-to-fuck-you kind of horny mess.

Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4

You kissed him and wished him dead in the same breath. You said ‘I do’ and meant ‘I don’t,’ exchanged your vows like your own last rites, and felt him slip the ring on your finger as if he’d just tightened a noose around your neck.

You didn’t want to be a bride, and you sure as hell didn’t want to be the bride to Mr. James Buchanan Barnes.

Frankly, you were mortified.

And terrified, too, now that you knew your groom might actually kill you in the kitchen of your honeymoon suite.

“Have you lost your fucking mind?!”

“I walked down the aisle, didn’t I?”

Another plate went crashing on the wall behind your husband’s head just as he managed to duck. He side-stepped a spray of porcelain and glass and probably crushed several hundred shards beneath his polished black oxfords when he walked—stalked—over to you.

You’d just reared back to hurl a serving plate at his face when you found your speed swiftly outmatched. Bucky had your elbow gripped between his forefinger and thumb in less than a second, and, pinching the bone like he might readily break it, he said, even as always,

“Put it down.”

You did as he told you and dropped the platter to the floor with a crash.

Rather than berate you for the broken china—or the four other pieces before it—your husband only smiled.

“Are we done?”

Hell, you wanted to be. Slide over a pen and a one-way plane ticket to someplace in BFE, and you’d be signing those divorce papers in a heartbeat. Unfortunately, your dear husband was just referring to the temper tantrum.

You weren’t totally sure if you were finished on that front, so you looked him up and down and shrugged.

“Now darling—” he started.

“Don’t call me that.”

“Light of my life—”

“I’ll kill you.”

Your cool, level-headed groom took each gibe like it was his sworn duty, and only when he yanked your wrists behind your back and shoved you toward the bedroom door did you sense that he might not be too pleased with your behavior.

Your knees struck the edge of the California King at the center of the room, and before you could will yourself not to fall face-first, Bucky nudged you hard again.

Still pinning your hands behind you, he followed your collapse on the bed and leaned over your prone body.

His breaths were hot on your ear; you could tell he was smiling as he started to hike your dress up your legs.

“It’s all part of the deal, doll.”

You wriggled under his hold and tried to angle yourself better to see him, hoping he’d see your scowl.

“The deal was to get married,” you reminded him.

“Mhmm,” Bucky hummed, just then starting to trail a finger up the uncovered skin of your calf with his other hand, “And what is it that married people do?”

You kicked your foot reflexively, paused, then said,

“Fight. Constantly. Probably resent each other for the better part of two decades before we finally decide that ‘making it work’ for the kids isn’t worth it at all, and I claim half of everything you own in a bitter divorce.”

That earned a chuckle from Bucky. He kept his roaming hand brushing up the back of your thigh and squeezed the flesh just below the swell of your rear.

“Don’t worry, my lawyer drafted a pretty good prenup.”

You opened your mouth to speak, but then he was tracing the contour of your ass with his palm, and you cut yourself short. Bucky carried on, careless as ever.

“But the kids you mentioned,” he said, “How are we supposed to get those?”

You pursed your lips and tried hard not to move when his fingers drifted inward—you wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of seeing you squirm. The bottom of your dress was bunched around your hips now, leaving you sorely exposed. Had your bridesmaids not thrust that stupid white lingerie set upon you hours before the wedding, you probably would’ve chosen something a little more modest than a thong. But here you were.

At least the sight seemed appealing to your husband, whose eyes hadn’t left you once while his hands grew even hungrier to feel your warmth.

“I’m hoping a sperm donor or one of your double-crossing mobster friends will knock me up, honestly,” you said, feigning enthusiasm at the thought.

A tart slap delivered to your ass told you that Bucky hadn’t found that funny. After, he started kneading the skin a bit harder.

“No shot,” he shook his head, suddenly gliding his fingers down closer to your core and waiting for you to say something in protest, “Only one that’s gonna be pumping this thing full of babies is me, I promise.”

It was like he wanted your retaliation, whether that be by a thinly veiled look of disgust or a reactionary jab of your own. You weren’t keen on fulfilling any wish of his, but at this point, you felt you had no other choice. When you sensed he was distracted by the newly-discovered heat between your legs and had loosened his grip on your wrists, you flipped yourself over on the bed. Shoved at his chest before he knew what to do with himself.

Of course, the push didn’t send him far, but it was enough to get his attention—and his hands off of you.

“I’m not having your babies, Barnes! I am never going to fuck you, no matter how long we stay fake married,” you spat.

At that, Bucky just raised his eyebrows and wet his lips. You were cramming your wedding dress back into place, glaring at him the whole time, and were scarcely more aware of the bright, teeming city outside the window than you were of your husband’s own growing erection.

Finally, you’d said it. His new wife wouldn’t fuck him. The sound of your resistance was almost a pleasure unto itself, and the longer you stared at Bucky with growing contempt and resolve not to do that thing, the more determined he became to make it happen.

Cat-and-mouse games had long been a staple in his life, and he was pleased to see them carry into his marriage as well. Surely if he’d triumphed in every pursuit for the last twenty years—facing the likes of some seriously execrable bandits and racketeers—he could take on a bratty woman less than half his size. You said you didn’t want his babies now, but just wait until he’d fucked you full of his cum once or twice. You’d be begging him for it in no time at all, and shortly thereafter, he’d have you barefoot and pregnant as many times as he liked. Always swollen with one of his children and whining for more.

The woman before him now had a murderous glint in her eyes, but he could fuck that away easy. In fact, he would live to do it. He traced the outline of your thigh over your dress and smiled when you tried not to recoil.

“Surely you didn’t think we’d be finger-painting and reading poetry to each other on our wedding night, hm?” he asked, almost delicately.

“Thought you might have one of your other women lined up,” you snorted. When you tried to move away, Bucky pinched your leg to make you stay. You winced.

“That’s not funny,” he said, a little more consternation in his tone. Like he actually cared whether you thought him a profligate Lothario or not, “Now that we’re married, it’s only you and me. No mistresses, nothing.”

Yeah, and he was just as likely arriving to your marital bed a blushing virgin. You rolled onto your side and pretended not to feel him tighten his grip as you did.

“Try the carnal part of our marriage yourself and I’m sure you’ll find I’m an exceptional fuck,” Bucky continued, speaking low as he stroked the chiffon of your dress.

You didn’t doubt the man was good—certainly the extent of his sexual escapades as a twenty-something seemed to demand it—but exceptional? No fucking way. You knew men like Bucky, with the world and every walking pair of tits at their fingertips, and almost all were incurably selfish. Cocky. The kind to jackhammer a woman for three consecutive minutes, roll over, and say, ‘Did you cum?’

No, there was not a snowball’s chance in hell your husband’s sexual prowess was even half as good as he claimed it was. Deciding to bite your tongue for the first time that night, though, you just stared at him blankly.

What you didn’t know was that your silence only stoked the flames of his ego, prompting him to press the matter further.

“What? You think I can’t fuck?” he said, “Any woman lucky enough to bed me has cum at least twice. Every time.”

Sure they did, Bucky, you wanted to say, but were suddenly drawn into his lap before you could speak.

“But let’s pretend I can’t,” he said, heedless of the face you made as soon as you were straddling his hips, “You wouldn’t let your husband prove himself tonight?”

“I don’t fuck strangers.”

Bucky smiled at that.

“Everyone’s a stranger until you get to blow them, honey,” he teased, squeezing your hips when you didn’t seem amused at all. Then you let out a cry, feeling yourself thrown back on the mattress like a rag doll while Bucky moved off.

Before you knew it, he was tugging your ankles down the length of the bed and widening his stance just a bit. He stopped pulling once your knees were grazing his black dress pants and your feet were dangling off of the bed.

“You like skylines?” he asked.

You frowned and raised a brow that he was quick to interpret as a ‘yes.’ He hauled you onto your feet.

“‘Course you do. All pretty girls like pretty skies,” he rattled on, strolling with you step-by-step to the set of French doors at the end of the room.

Bucky led you out to the balcony. The air was warm as it ever was, dull gusts of the evening wind curling up from the coastline below. Just as your husband had promised, the skyline of Santorini greeted you on either side, and you had to admit, it was more than just pretty. The views from your villa were absolutely breathtaking.

You stood with your back to Bucky, hands resting on the marble balustrade, and you felt him there, behind you. You didn’t bother to tilt your head when he drew even closer.

“What do you like most about it?” The question was simple enough, punctuated with a kiss on your shoulder. Your eyes scanned the horizon, the sea, even the quiet little streets down beneath, and you racked your brain trying to think of an answer that might satisfy him.

Before you could, though, you sucked in a breath when you felt your dress start to come undone at your back.

Bucky was unzipping your gown, gentle as ever, and probably grinning from ear to ear as he watched you shift uncomfortably in place and try to hold the material above your breasts where it had been fastened all day. Presently, you kicked your heel backward and hoped it would land somewhere near his balls. You missed.

“James,” you hissed.

Bucky groaned at the sheer intonation of his name on your lips.

“Yes, dear?”

“Why are you undressing me?”

Bucky had successfully dragged the zipper all the way down to your ass, and it seemed he was trying to shimmy the dress off your frame. You held on tight.

“I’d like to fuck my bride over the balcony railing, if that’s alright with you,” he answered truthfully.

The man was nothing if not blunt and crass. You turned around to give him a look, yanking your gown even closer to your chest.

“I’ll— I’ll tell my mother, Barnes.”

You felt stupid as soon as you’d said it—using your go-to threat whenever you were in distress. What were you, eleven?

“Your mother?” Bucky repeated, words steeped in derision, “Last I recall, mommy dearest was practically begging me to get you pregnant at the reception.”

Your jaw clenched, and you internally cursed your whole family. Your parents were supposed to be on your side throughout all of this—it was bad enough they’d pawned you off to a mob boss of unrivaled infamy all to settle a debt, but this? Your mother had assured you just the day before that Mr. Barnes was bound to tire of you within the year. No mention of sex or babies whatsoever.

The same mother who had beat you over the head with the notion of your own virginity since you were old enough to read, the one who had underscored just how important it was to wait for the right man to give yourself body, mind, and soul to, turning around and telling this filthy criminal to have you any way he liked. And knock you up? The fucking nerve of that woman.

You were so preoccupied with thoughts of your own backstabbing family that you hardly felt Bucky drag your dress the rest of the way down your body. It was only when you were completely bare before him, and your husband had just started to skim his lips over your tummy that you tensed with surprise.

“I don’t have to fuck you just yet, doll,” he murmured, having sunk to his knees and only moving lower. Then the corners of his lips twitched, “Least not with my dick.”

You tried to pry his head from between your legs before he could stretch his tongue so much as an inch.

“James!”

Again with that name.

“You know, I love when you call me that, Mrs. Barnes.”

Bucky was peering up at you now, soaking in the sight of your body in a white lace bra, panties, and stockings.

“Is my bride feeling shy?” he teased, gently nipping at your inner thighs.

You weren’t sure what you were feeling in that moment, to be honest. Revulsion, betrayal, arousal, you name it—each crowned with an all-encompassing hatred for the man currently occupying the space between your legs—while a still stronger desire almost hoped he would stay.

“You can hate your husband all you want and still let him tonguefuck you,” Bucky growled against your skin.

Like he’d read your mind.

In reality, your husband hardly needed the powers of telepathy to tell him just how turned on you were; the sopping wet spot in your panties said as much. From his vantage point, Bucky saw the disgust in your eyes slowly eclipsed by lust, and with a single flick of his tongue, he knew he would have you exactly where he wanted you.

“Just let it happen, honey.”

He felt your fingers thread tight through his hair and the first stir of your hips in tandem. One small, delectable whimper crossed your lips, and it took everything in Bucky not to tear your panties straight off with his teeth.

Instead, the man opted for a soft, gentle lick over your clothed slit. Testing the waters.

Your whimper was quick to meld to a moan, and then, just as fast:

“N-no, Bucky.”

To your dismay, his tongue didn’t retreat, only making firmer laps against your centre while his lips grazed the lace. He gripped your thighs and wedged himself deeper, and again, you cursed the paper thin fabric of your panties for letting you feel everything his mouth was doing. He hadn’t even made proper contact with your cunt, and your knees were already starting to shake.

He pressed a kiss above your clit through the flimsy material, and you almost tore a clump of hair from his head.

“No. Please.” You hardly made sense to yourself; it was clear you wanted his touch, but something inside you wasn’t quite ready to submit to the idea that this was all okay. That your husband’s tongue and lips might be meant for something like this, and you didn’t have to feel so guilty for wanting it either. Fucking purity culture.

“My pretty girl,” Bucky presently murmured above the fabric, words sending a dozen little shockwaves in their wake, “My beautiful fucking wife.”

The man inhaled your scent and could’ve sworn he was in ecstasy. Blinded by desire as he was, he really wasn’t bullshitting in the slightest when he gathered you to him and said you were the best; he’d genuinely grown transfixed by the feel of you, in spite of every fibre of his being telling him not to. The marriage was arranged, fake, and fueled by hatred—and somehow, Bucky couldn’t get enough.

Nor could he wait any longer. One light swipe of his finger tugged your panties aside, and then he was latching on, no cover this time, to take your clit between his lips. Sucking hard, going fast, needing it bad.

A moan rang loud in his ears, and your hand on his head was instantly joined by the other. You yanked his hair like you never had before, pulling so tight at the roots as though your pleasure depended on it. Bucky smiled around the soft pearl in his mouth and flicked it gently with the tip of his tongue.

“Feel good, baby?” he breathed.

His head tilted up to you, and he could see you were struggling just to breathe, face painted with a medley of emotions.

You didn’t know if you could, or should, be feeling this good from a man so evil. Bucky flattened his tongue and licked a long stripe up your pussy to ensure that you would. Then he posed the question again, smirking.

“You like my tongue on this wet, needy cunt?”

His words were so damn obscene, but you nodded anyway. Feeling small and powerless beneath those big, broad hands as they pinned you back on the marble and spread you even wider for the taking.

He loved how innocent and lewd you looked at once, wincing with pleasure and still trying to keep your composure like you thought a good girl should.

Bucky wanted to break that resolve. He brought one hand closer to your entrance.

And, just as your breaths were starting to hitch and grow more ragged in your chest, he pushed two fingers inside. The act surprised your husband almost as much as it did you—not quite, but almost—upon feeling how tight you were, how resistant to even two digits you seemed to be. He hardly knew whether to shove them deeper or pull them out, so fast did your muscles contract around him.

When you whined a loud, protracted, ‘FUCK!’ he figured he would stick with the former. He grinned, having never heard you speak, much less swear, out of pleasure like this.

Your head lolled back and your body made an arch when his fingers curled inside you. You were panting, moaning, coating his hand with your juices, and Bucky knew you were close.

He started pumping his fingers in and out while his tongue worked your clit, chin practically doused in your arousal by now. A swell of pride rose within him: he could finally bring you home to that sweet release, have you a shaking, soaking mess above his face like you were wholly his and no one else’s. He moved his tongue even faster and sank his fingers straight down to the knuckle.

Then, unexpectedly, both were robbed of your touch.

Seized with fear, you shoved Bucky off and stumbled away from his glistening face. You took off toward the doors and fled the balcony before you could think.

“What the f— honey? Honey?!” Bucky sputtered. He bounded after you.

You’d thrown yourself in the master bathroom and locked the door behind you in the blink of an eye. Outside, your husband had only to stare in pure bewilderment and awe, mind reeling at what had just happened.

Fucking hell, he knows. He knows! You collapsed against the door and slid down a couple inches. Your hand reflexively flew to your mouth to stifle the sounds when Bucky began pounding the wood behind you.

“Baby, what’s wrong? What’s—what’s goin’ on?”

In truth, you’d rather chug bleach than divulge the thought that had just scared the everliving fuck out of you back there. It was stupid and senseless and should’ve been frightening you for weeks before it ever came to this, but here you were, panicked in the bathroom of your honeymoon suite because you’d never done this before—and you’d never reached climax in your life without bursting into tears.

Fuck, you felt stupid. How could you think this would be any different—or that Bucky’s tongue wouldn’t eventually attempt to wrest an orgasm out of you?

It’d just felt so good, you thought maybe a new climax brought by someone else’s fingers might free you from the same unsavory demise you’d met a hundred times before, but then it hit you, shortly after Bucky had plunged his fingers inside, you were going to cry.

You winced when Bucky’s knocks grew louder, his voice gaining more ire by the second, it seemed.

“Open the fucking door!”

He’d rake you over the coals for this. Getting so close to what he wanted, only to have his silly little bride snatch it all away and run hiding in the en-suite bathroom? Your stomach turned at the thought of what men in the mob were liable to do with women like you—what Bucky might conceivably do now that you’d sparked his rage.

Your eyes darted to the window just as his fist shook the doorframe behind you. You ran over to the tub, tucked squarely beneath the windowsill, and climbed onto it just to get a hold of the fastenings around the glass.

One click synchronized with the furious cadence being hammered on the door, and just as you started to slide the pane up the way, a heavy thud sounded outside. The weight of your husband’s body being thrust against the door, most likely.

You bit your lip and lifted one leg over the windowsill, shuffling your body even closer to the outside world.

Three floors up! Have you lost your mind? You could hear your father’s words ringing in your skull already. There was a ledge, you reasoned, no more than ten feet below, if you could just grab hold of the frame right there and slide down the cool stone you might—

“Fuck,” Bucky groaned.

You watched your husband heave through the busted door of the bathroom, wide eyes and a ‘Here’s Johnny’ flourish raging hot on his face. Your heart leapt to your throat, and you started to lower yourself out of the window, hoping desperately for that ledge below to be sturdy. But before you could make it even half of the way there, strong arms were circling your frame and yanking you back inside, hurtling straight into the bathtub with Bucky tumbling over you.

“What are you doing?!” he roared.

You wriggled under his weight, petrified of the fiery look in his eyes as he lurched over your frame.

He straightened up just enough to shake you by the shoulders—like a parent reprimanding a child.

“What the fuck was that?! Huh? You think that’s fucking funny, jumping out windows?”

No, no, not funny, you wanted to bite back, but found your mouth dry and unable to speak. When Bucky shook you again, you had only to whimper a pathetic sound.

The man was enraged. Stubble still damp with your juices and looking undeniably frazzled and spent, he drew closer to your face and demanded you look at him. When he took hold of your cheeks in both hands, the command couldn’t have reached you any more clearly.

“What— what was that for?” his voice lowered as he tried to catch his breath. You still couldn’t move.

“I-I don’t—” you stopped and hardly knew how to say it:

Sorry to cut our tonguefucking session short, I was just afraid I might burst into a fit of uncontrollable tears while you licked and sucked me through the best orgasm of my life. I’d rather jump off, or out of, a building than tell my mob boss husband that I can’t cum without crying. By the way, I’m a virgin!

Instead, you just blinked and stared back at him.

“Can’t…do it,” you murmured.

Bucky’s expression only grew more puzzled by the words out of your mouth. He squeezed your face tighter and leaned in even closer.

“Do what? Sex? Fuck, I— I didn’t mean to be that aggressive, hell, I’m sorry.” He stopped to run a hand through his hair, and for the first time, you could’ve sworn you saw the first glint of compunction in his eyes.

He looked away a few seconds, as if collecting what fragmented thoughts he could, then brought his head back down to your level and took your hands in his.

“Honey?” he tried getting your attention, just barely above a whisper now, “I know the whole thing’s fucked, I know.”

That was the understatement of the century. To your surprise, Bucky’s gaze softened when he saw a scowl cross your face.

“We don’t…have to do anything. I was just pushing your buttons earlier. Being a dick.”

His tongue moved to wet his lips once more, this time without the seductive, smug demeanor he usually wore and simply exhibiting discomfort. He swallowed. The bow tie around his neck appeared to him to be fastened far too tight all of a sudden, and then, haphazardly, he started clawing at the garment to get it off.

You didn’t know why you felt compelled to help. It was like all ten fingers just lifted of their own accord to join Bucky’s hands in trying to undo his tie.

The silk fabric wasn’t tied, but knotted, crudely and inflexibly, beneath the little black bow. You frowned. Still unable to meet his gaze as you worked your fingers under the tangled material and tried to pretend like the two of you weren’t still sweating profusely from the events that had just transpired—both the tonguefucking and the window-jumping.

“Who tied this, a five-year-old?” you muttered.

“I’m thirty-eight, thanks,” Bucky returned just as quietly.

Both of you indulged in a smile that lasted no longer than a second, but you felt the tension ease a little.

This was not where you thought your dreaded wedding night was headed before. Curled up in a bathtub with your hands around your husband’s neck—and not actually trying to kill him—while Bucky blinked almost nervously the longer your hands lingered on his collar. It seemed he’d found something especially tantalizing on the wall behind your head, because his stare remained fixed on that spot the whole time you fiddled with his tie.

Maybe that, along with the last ebb of alcoholic influence from the reception still coursing through your veins, had emboldened you to come right out and say it while Bucky was looking away. You couldn’t be sure.

“I’ve never had sex before.”

At last, the tie loosened a little.

Bucky flicked his gaze back to yours in a second.

“What?”

You lifted a brow, wondering if he really needed an explanation as to what it meant to have never gotten laid before, but you decided against indulging him any further. Bucky seemed keen on doing that all by himself.

“You’re a virgin?”

You nodded.

“Didn’t my overbearing mother make sure you knew?”

“Yeah, I thought she was full of shit,” Bucky answered bluntly. Then, catching sight of the semi-offended look in your eye, mixed with a tad more amusement than indignation, he added, “I mean— I didn’t think you’d, uh, wanna wait…twenty-five years for some action.”

He winced when he realized that sounded just as bad. His throat cleared shortly to make way for a new attempt at comity, but you cut him off, shaking your head as you finally got the knot to untangle.

“No, I get it. I don’t know why I waited this long either,” you shrugged.

As soon as you’d freed him from his bow tie, you started to stand from the bath tub. Bucky, too, straightened to his full height and started to close the window while you walked back to the bedroom.

You eyed the rose petals strewn across the duvet and felt a little more relaxed this time around. The weight of the V-word had been lifted from your shoulders, and now you had only to share the crying-while-cumming stuff to Bucky later on. Much later on, you hoped.

You crawled onto the bed and stretched out on your belly, playing with the soft red petals and wondering if room service was still offered at this hour.

Bucky had just stepped out of the bathroom when he halted at the threshold. Saw your body sprawled out on the bed, back arched and ass pointed in the air as you reached over for the phone on the nightstand. He stared for a second too long and felt a familiar stir in his pants.

Sonovabitch, he started to think, before chiding himself silently, Shut up, man, she’s a virgin. Be cool. Be cool—don’t make her jump out a window again.

He ducked back in the bathroom and eased the door to just a crack while you discovered a voice on the line:

“Hi! Hey, I’d like to order room service to, uh…” your voice trailed off. Then, covering the mouthpiece, “James, what’s our room number?”

Inside the bathroom, Bucky squeezed his eyes shut at the sound of his name. Already palming his erection through his dress pants as he leaned against the wall.

“We rented the whole building, dear,” he called back.

“Oh.” He could just imagine the slight pout on your lips as you spoke. Then you asked if he wanted anything to eat, Bucky thought only of the sweet nectar between your legs, and he answered aloud, no, he was fine, really.

For the first time in his life, the man felt positively ashamed he was about to rub one out in a bathroom, alone. It wasn’t like this was the first it had ever been done, but now there was you, innocent and oblivious in the next room over, while Bucky undid his belt and quietly freed his cock from his dress pants. It felt kind of perverted, in a way, but he knew he needed this release to put his mind at ease and not feel so affected by you.

While you scanned your phone for a menu and chatted with the concierge downstairs about various food items, Bucky was spitting in his hand and fumbling for his shaft. You talked American Wagyu sirloin, lobster thermidor, and seared Faroe Island salmon while he thought achingly about the way your cunt had tasted and how badly he wanted to try it again.

How did he feel about an artisan cheese platter? Bucky hardly had the wits about himself to answer beyond a strangled, ‘Whatever you want, honey’ and a tightened fist around his cock, stroking hard to get the filthy thoughts out of his head before the food arrived.

Ever sweet, soft, supple, and savory—his mind reeled with fresh memories of that place between your thighs, and he almost lurched forward in pleasure.

Your brute of a mob boss husband was irreparably pussy-whipped and hadn’t even fucked you yet. He gripped the bathroom sink beside him and sincerely wished it wasn’t his hand doing the work right now. But of course, he had to be patient, had to be kind—couldn’t force himself on a woman who clearly wasn’t ready.

Again, he spit in his palm and jerked himself fast.

Any minute now, he thought with some relief.

Your feet padded softly into the living room as the pleasure inside him was starting to crest. Still pining for your warmth and the way your legs trembled around his head, Bucky was all but fucking his hand at this point. He’d snagged his bottom lip between his teeth in a lopsided smile and groaned, too low to be heard, and pumped himself even faster for his impending orgasm.

A thought crossed your mind as you stopped ahead of the sofa. You pivoted.

Suddenly, you were skipping back to the bathroom, wanting to know Bucky’s wine preferences before you placed another order.

You barged in and froze.

“Sorry!” you squeaked, darting out just as fast.

Five seconds slower and you probably would’ve seen Bucky blow his load all over the sink. As it was, the man was left sorely at a loss for any form of release and heaving fast, ragged breaths from the colossal scare you’d just given him.

Good fucking going, Buck—your wife wants to cuddle and eat cheese and you’re out here beating your meat.

Bucky shoved himself back in his pants and waited an excruciating minute for the sound of your second window exit of the night. A slammed door, a frantic phone call, a few sobs into your pillow as you realized how dirty and depraved your husband was, anything.

He was only met with silence.

Taking one more shaky breath, Bucky reached for the doorknob and started back out. Cautiously.

The man took his slow, silent leave of the bathroom with his gaze trained toward the doors—half-expecting to see his bride rappelling from the balcony—but then quickly shifted to the bed. Finding you kneeling at the edge.

“James?”

Your voice almost pained.

A word was all it took. Bucky was back on his knees.

“I’m sorry. I just wanted it to go away, honey. I’m sorry.”

Go away? You quirked a brow and couldn’t hold his gaze much longer; just trailed your vision down his torso to his pants, then his erection, still standing prominent as ever.

Bucky struggled to decide whether you were ticked off or intrigued, seeing your eyes make their painful appraisal of his length beneath his pants. Your brow was pinched, but your head was cocked. Almost curious.

“Are you mad at me?” you asked, gaze fixed on the spot.

Immediately, Bucky rose to his feet and crawled back on the bed, seizing your body with both of his hands.

“No! No, not mad at all,” he mumbled as he sidled up beside you. Pleased to see you hadn’t recoiled, “I was just, uh…missing you, ‘s’all.”

If his men could see him now, Bucky was sure he’d be the laughing stock of all the town. Doting and kind, eyes softened beyond recognition, he just watched you and wanted nothing more than to repair the smile that had ebbed from your face. Come ridicule, hell, or high water, the man was infatuated with his bride—all broken plates and attempted window escapes be damned.

Presently, you brought your hand down to his bulge.

Bucky stiffened but didn’t speak. He wanted you to do this on your own, of your own volition.

“You seem kinda mad to me.” You hardly knew what you were doing. Just rubbing his length and hoping it was something he’d like.

Where Bucky had wanted to see you smile, you just wanted to hear him grunt and whine—maybe grab your hips and beg you to do something, please. You’d never felt any such degree of control, and you suspected Bucky had never not felt it himself. You wanted him desperate.

You were playing a dangerous game, you knew it, but something inside those baby blues said he wanted to do it, too. Do anything for you, quite frankly.

You watched the rise and fall of Bucky’s broad chest and stroked his length even softer.

“James.”

“Uh-huh?” His mouth hung open with a gentle grunt, fighting every instinct to buck into your touch.

At last, you squeezed his shaft and prodded him on. Let your head drift closer to his so his lips would graze the apple of your cheek, and just when you sensed he wanted a taste, you tilted your face toward his own,

“We haven’t even kissed since the ceremony.”

Bucky stared blankly at you, enrapt with the pulse of your fingers. You could tell he was aching to move.

“Oh yeah?” he murmured.

You nodded a wordless affirmation and slid sharply back in bed as Bucky lunged after you. Your hands flew from his pants to the plush mattress behind you as you shifted—or, rather, scrambled—back in place and felt your husband climb over you hungrily.

“That what my wife wants?” he murmured, frame slotting tight between your legs.

You nodded again, and had only to suck in a breath before Bucky was devouring your lips. The kind of flushed, frantic, filthy kiss that would’ve doubtlessly wrought looks of horror on every face at your wedding had he grabbed you that way after the declarations of ‘I do’ had been spoken.

You loved him like this, impassioned and a bit unhinged.

His tongue worked his way past your lips and scoured every soft, fleshy inch between the insides of your cheeks before he took your face in his hands, kissing you roughly.

Something hard and throbbing nudged your sex, and suddenly you were whining in his mouth. Wrapping your legs around his waist.

“Ah, honey, don’t,” Bucky groaned, visibly straining to contain himself. When you dug your heels even deeper in his back, the groan that followed from him was hoarse and guttural.

“I thought— I…fuck,” your husband turned his head to curse as you grinded your hips up to his. You had to bite back a smile.

“I just wanna do what married people do,” you murmured coyly, pretending not to see when Bucky shot you the most red-hot, wanton look he’d imparted all evening.

“Yeah?” Like a kid in a candy shop the size of Sears.

Bucky took your face in his hands once more and made sure to scan your expression for any shred of doubt. On finding nothing there, he sat panting, half-disbelieving and half-contemplating all the wretched things he wanted to do to you. You squeezed his sides with your thighs and just hoped your husband knew what to do, because, in truth, you didn’t have the first fucking idea.

A few dry, clinical terms flashed before your mind’s eye, along with your mother’s bleak depiction of what treatment lay in store for a woman on her wedding night, and as Bucky started to work his belt and his pants off, you just hoped he wouldn’t be cruel.

He couldn’t be, right? He’d only mowed down a hundred men and dismembered dozens more, you were told, but surely a set of eyes this soft, caring, and kind couldn’t belong to a monster. You let him lift your hips and shimmy your panties, garter belt, and stockings down your legs, and when he returned, you tried your best not to betray the thoughts in your head.

Bucky hadn’t been with a virgin for as long as he could remember—maybe ever. His own ‘deflowering’ an ancient relic of his boyhood and the multitude of partners since then a mere flurry of nameless faces, he sincerely couldn’t recall a time when he’d asked, or cared, whether the woman beneath him had her cherry intact. He didn’t suppose it could be too different, as he peeled the last pieces of your lingerie set off your body and saw you seemed perfectly ready. He ran a finger between your folds and felt you shiver with what looked like excitement. Piece of cake, he thought, smiling.

No doubt he would take great joy in making you his own. His bride, his wife, an unblemished beacon of light in a life as sordid as his, looked perfect spread before him. You would adjust to his size. Bucky trailed the head of his cock up your slit and coated himself in your juices, and just when he’d bracketed his other arm around your head on the pillow, you let out a small sound.

“Are you sure it’ll fit?”

Bucky fisted his length and pressed the tip to your entrance.

“Uh…yeah. Yeah, I think so.”

He hadn’t yet met a woman who wasn’t able to fit him.

“Okay.”

Somehow, your voice sounded even smaller, head lodged between pillows and the crook of Bucky’s elbow. You felt small. Frankly, it didn’t seem like your husband was quite computing the worries that were pervading your brain, but you decided he knew best—your mother had assured you that husbands always did—and when Bucky first pressed the head of himself to the seam of your cunt, you hardly even whimpered.

You watched his brow furrow above you. He tried to go further.

Your folds were as soaked as he’d ever seen a woman’s, your hole practically pulsing with desire, and somehow, he couldn’t push in.

Bucky snagged his lip between his teeth and braced himself with the aid of the headboard, taking your hip in his other hand. A breath sounded on your lips the second he adjusted, and shortly thereafter, he felt your gaze on the same place he was watching: the spot where your bodies were trying to connect.

His features darkened at the prospect of failing, or even appearing incompetent to you in the slightest. He’d done this hundreds of times before, why wouldn’t it work?

When he felt your eyes trail back up his body and study his face—maybe wondering why her new groom hadn’t gotten around to thrusting into her yet, he thought—he felt a swell of panic and pushed.

Against his better judgment and the feel of your body, he muscled his way through and forced his cock inside. Bottoming out in a single, stabbing thrust.

You seized in pain but wanted to be a good wife for him.

Bucky, too, felt his hips stutter at the resistance your walls were giving him, but then remembered how he’d sworn to be a dutiful husband, and kept going.

Together, you stared anywhere but the other’s face and gritted your teeth for two entirely different reasons—you, in agony, and Bucky, in ecstasy, the latter hoping with everything in him that you liked this as much as him.

Bucky took a tender, if not slightly awkward, rhythm rutting against your body and stared steady at the headboard like he always did.

You were in pain and faced with nothing but his hulking chest, moving up and down, back and forth, over and over again like a goddamn seesaw from hell while it felt like your insides were presently being torn to shreds.

Who fucking enjoys this? you wanted to wail, but feigned a moan instead, raking your nails down Bucky’s back, Why isn’t he looking at me? Why isn’t he touching me?

Your walls involuntarily clenched around him, and he swallowed a moan.

Just think of baseball, beer, math, the Roman Empire, anything to keep from busting right now, Bucky told himself as he clenched his jaw and fought to maintain his pace. Your pussy just felt so. fucking. good.

Beneath him, you had tried and failed to fight back tears. The burn was just too much; the longer he thrusted, the more your walls contracted, and confusingly, stupidly, it seemed like he was using you. Your mother was right, most likely, that sex was just a means to an end for men like Bucky, and your husband didn’t care about your pleasure at all. You fought hard to keep the waterworks at bay, that one thing you hadn’t wanted Bucky to see, but eventually, the tears were flowing freely.

You stifled a sob that your husband mistook for a moan.

He fucked you even faster and felt a grin start to twitch at the corners of his lips when you made a sound that seemed consistent with pleasure.

“Feel so fucking tight,” Bucky grunted, about to lower his gaze to your face for the first time since he’d entered you, “So nice and tight and w—hey, hey, baby?”

He stilled inside as soon as he saw that you were crying. Took your face in his hands and almost couldn’t believe the sight of your tear-stained cheeks beneath him.

“What’s wrong? What happened?” he asked, scanning your face for any signs of harm.

You just shook your head and tried to brush him off.

“Keep going, I’m good.”

Bucky seemed angered at the suggestion. He brought your face closer to his and stared almost reproachfully down at you. Then he paused a beat and swiped one of your cheeks with the pad of his thumb.

“Am I hurting you?” he asked.

“N—”

“Don’t lie.”

You squirmed a bit and winced. That was answer enough for Bucky, and he slowly pulled out of you.

“Aw hell.”

The two of you glanced down to see a blooming red spot on the comforter. Bucky rubbed the blood in disbelief.

He’d gone too far. Again. Hurt something inside of you that couldn’t be fixed with a kiss. While you struggled to sit up among the pillows, Bucky was running a hand through his hair and cursing himself up and down.

“Why didn’t you say something?” he scowled.

“I didn’t wanna interrup—”

“If I’m making you bleed, you stop me, for fuck’s sake.”

“Well you seemed to be having a pretty good time!”

Bucky didn’t need to tell you in words what was painted on his face; he was pissed off and probably bound to slip off the bed any second, when your tears started welling up again. Then he eased off, remembering he was more mad at himself than anyone else, and slid closer to you. He tried pulling you into his chest, but you didn’t budge.

“C’mon,” you said, grabbing his wrist, “Let’s keep going.”

Bucky eyed you incredulously.

“Nuh-uh.”

“Uh-huh,” you insisted. He shot you a glare but didn’t protest when you guided his hand between your legs.

You were spread back open for him in no time. Still stinging like hell and ready for another go. Bucky almost couldn’t believe it.

“My headstrong wife.” He managed a smile before kissing the crown of your head, and kept right on kissing that spot no matter how far his fingers were traveling.

“You owe me two orgasms, remember, Mr. Barnes?”

It seemed Bucky’s boastful claims of late were in fact the furthest thing from his mind as he crawled back over your body. He pried your knees apart and left just enough room for his frame, taking his fingers to your folds and rubbing in light, gentle circles.

The bleeding had stopped. What little remained was long forgotten, and duly, the pain from recent memory was slowly but surely purged with every flick of his thumb. Bucky planted an arm next to your head and kept touching you there until your face relaxed completely.

When he chanced a finger inside, he was careful not to rub so much as plunge in quick, shallow motions, and at the first signs of pleasure, press light and tender kisses on your skin.

“If it hurts at all, you tell me.”

He sounded stern as he inserted another finger, but really, the man was all putty in your hands, wanting to please you and tease you in any way that he could.

When you told him faster, he sped up; you gripped his hair and said slow down, he did the same. He curled his digits in time with every whimper and moan you made and took care not to be too harsh on your sweet spot.

The only time he paused was when you looked up and asked him point-blank: could he fuck you sweet and gentle now?

Bucky paused. Swallowed.

The man would’ve screwed you six ways to Sunday if you asked him; that wasn’t the problem. The only traces of hesitation remained where your eyes said something different. Even as he shuffled between your legs at your behest, aligned his cock with your entrance, and felt a wave of desire wash over him, he pressed his forehead to yours and searched your glossy gaze once more.

“You sure about this, bunny?” he murmured.

Your heart melted at the name. You couldn’t deny you were frightened, and perhaps a bit worse for the wear after your last attempt, but his words were a comfort, his hand on your cheek a welcome gesture. When his thumb grazed your lips, you kissed it and nodded.

“Alright sweet girl,” Bucky said, tone laced with affection.

This time, before pressing the head of himself inside, Bucky caught your lips and kissed you softly. Rubbed himself up and down your slit—paying extra attention to your clit—and coated himself completely before trying to penetrate you again.

Your cheeks flushed, and you kissed him harder.

“P-please, Bucky, fuck me,” you murmured against his mouth, eliciting a small grunt from him.

“Yeah? You want your husband’s cock inside you, doll?” He kept the pretense of teasing, but really, he was just trying to make sure you wanted this as badly as he did. By the blissed out look on your face and the soft, ceaseless squelching noises produced by your arousal, he got the message pretty quickly.

He breached your folds with just the tip at first. You both felt your muscles contract. Instead of blindly pushing ahead like he had before, Bucky trained his gaze on your face and watched for any signs of discomfort.

“Everything okay, bunny?” he hummed as he brushed a few strands of hair from your face.

You were half in awe of how attentive he was, and doubly impressed by the stretch that followed—like a pinch, but nothing like the pain you’d felt before. You peered up at your husband and squeezed his shoulders.

“It— it doesn’t hurt this time,” you said, breathless.

Bucky could’ve caved at the sweet, innocent expression alone—like you were pleasantly surprised this hadn’t caused excruciating pain—and his lips moved down to pepper your cheeks with kisses again.

“Doll, I’m so sorry.”

The sounds and sighs of your pleasure beneath him, along with the words telling him it was okay, really, he hadn’t meant to do it, all made him feel even guiltier for having hurt you in the first place. It took him some time assailing your face with tiny, apologetic kisses before he even thought to feed you another inch.

When he finally plunged himself deeper, it wasn’t without your express permission; even then, Bucky feared he might split you in two.

The whole time he eased himself inside, he was moving his gaze between your face and the place between your two bodies—watching you open for him and take him inch by inch. He rubbed his thumb over your clit when you whimpered.

“Doing so good for me.”

“Stretching so nice for this cock.”

“My beautiful, beautiful wife.”

Every syllable of his praises flooded your head like honey. Feeling him stretch you out, fill you up, and rock you softly with his first shallow thrusts, all while talking you through it, had your mind ablaze and near-euphoric.

Pleasure practically searing your veins, you didn’t even hear yourself, or really mean to say it, as soon as you did.

“This doesn’t feel dirty at all.”

An epiphany to you and a puzzle to Bucky.

“What’s’at, honey?” He was still rutting his hips and slowly picking up speed. Your husband groaned when you clenched around him and pulled him even deeper—before you realized what you’d said.

Your cheeks flushed.

“I— I was always told sex made you dirty. This feels—” you stopped to swallow a moan when Bucky grazed a particularly sensitive spot inside you, “pretty nice.”

‘Pretty nice.’ Your husband couldn’t help the smile twitching at the corners of his lips as he leaned down to kiss you. He wrapped his big, muscly arms around you and pulled you closer to his chest.

“Makes you dirty?” Bucky said, disbelief evident in his tone before his smile broke into a grin, “Baby, you’re the cleanest, sweetest thing I’ve ever seen.”

He didn’t let you endeavor to protest, just buried his face in your neck and pressed teasing kisses all over the skin while he continued to pump in and out of you. He knew to keep hitting that spot, too.

You were drowning in whimpers and kisses when Bucky brought his lips to your ear.

“Doesn’t make you dirty at all,” he assured you, “Just makes you my wife.”

You clawed Bucky’s back when he sped up a little, and you felt the pleasure soar to even greater heights when he propped your legs above his shoulders—a brand new angle for him to bend you like a pretzel and fuck you good.

“You take this cock too nice to be dirty,” he gritted his teeth and continued to soothe you just how he knew you liked it, “Such a good little wife, sucking up every inch of me like you were made for it.”

Your lips parted in a soft ‘o,’ feeling him plunge the depths of your cunt like he never had before. Bucky slipped his thumb in your mouth while he held your face.

“That what you are, bunny? A good girl?”

You nodded your head and sucked his thumb, feeling yourself fucked dumb as you did. Bucky loved that blissed out look in your eyes.

“Good girl for daddy?” he cooed.

Your ankles trembled around his neck as soon as he said it. You nodded again, yes, you were, and felt a light coil start to form in your lower stomach as Bucky kept pounding you and pushing his thumb between your lips.

Then, with a pop, he plucked the digit from your mouth and brought it down to your clit. He started soft at first, but before long he was rubbing vicious circles on that little bundle of nerves, watching you come undone before his eyes and clench around him even tighter.

“B-Bucky,” you whined, fisting the sheets underneath you both as you squirmed.

“Mhmm?” Your husband pretended to be oblivious.

“I w— I’m gonna—” The words could scarcely leave your lips without finding themselves punctured with a whimper as soon as they were spoken. Bucky thrusted harder.

“Gonna what? Cum for daddy?” he grinned, “Make a mess all over this cock?”

Your moans of pleasure more than sufficed for an answer. You nodded and winced, felt your whole lower half seize with a warm and heady feeling, and before you knew it, Bucky’s thrusts were sending you spiraling over the edge, with a wave of bliss following shortly behind. Sounds of skin slapping skin hardly faltered, and Bucky kept rubbing and fucking you all throughout the waves of your high.

Tears sprung to your eyes, and you didn’t care. Your mind was alight with more bright, fervid feelings than you could count or comprehend, and your body washed over with pleasure.

You clung to Bucky and felt him keep fucking you, even as you shrieked against his skin.

“One more for me, honey.”

You didn’t think that was possible. You had just spilled all over him, squeezing his cock like a vice and screaming his name, and now he wanted it all over again? So soon?

Your fingernails sunk into his arms as he continued to rut into you, and you started to shake your head.

“C-Can’t Bucky, I can’t, I can’t,” you sobbed, tears still streaming down your cheeks.

“Sure you can.”

Your husband had his mouth at your ear again, panting as the pace of his thrusts grew faster. He tilted his body slightly forward so your legs were pushed even higher above you—damn near grazing either side of your head—and pounded you relentlessly.

His voice seemed so calm and assured as he spoke,

“Cum for daddy. Show me just how fucking good this cock makes you feel and cum again for me.”

With a command like that, how could you refuse?

You came a second time, hands seizing Bucky's forearms, and screams tearing through your chest as you rode your high impaled on his cock over and over again. The sights and sounds and repeated, pulsing spasms of your pussy on his shaft sent Bucky chasing his release not long after, and you felt a warmth spread inside you.

Your eyes were filled to the brim with tears, your cheeks practically drenched already. As you came down from your high, you started to blink.

But just as you lifted a hand to sop up the moisture, Bucky was leaning over you and into you with the brightest smile. Then he was kissing each wet, salty stain like it was the most natural thing in the world, sponging soft and gentle touches all over the spots your tears had overflown.

It seemed every nerve ending in your lower half was on the fritz, your body little more than mush underneath him, but somehow you managed to catch his mouth as he traversed the skin. You kissed him back, and Bucky drew you closer.

The two of you separated for a second, Bucky’s cock still resting comfortably inside you and his broad frame engulfing you in bed. He paused a beat. Seemed to consider something in his mind before speaking aloud.

“Honey,” he started, unsure of how he wanted to say this.

You peered up at him, curious. His seed had filled every contour and crevice of your aching walls and was just then starting to dribble out of you. Bucky seemed unfazed. He cupped both hands around your face.

“I love you.”

You blinked. No fucking way you were hearing those words.

“What?” You felt too awestruck to say anything else.

“I love you,” Bucky repeated. A smile was starting to tug at his lips, his thumb tracing your cheek while you stared at him in disbelief.

You would’ve liked to speak.

Would’ve loved to say those three little words right back.

In fact, you had just opened your mouth to tell him that, when a sound at the foot of the bed startled you both.

The warm glow of moonlight pouring in from the window panes was your only means to see it. But sight wasn’t worth much at all when a man appeared and pressed the barrel of a gun to Bucky’s temple, letting out a chuckle.

Another man, clad head-to-toe in polished black tactical gear approached from the far end of the room. Bucky gritted his teeth but remained motionless, hearing that man cock his firearm as well. You were surrounded on either side of the bed. Your blood ran cold.

“Sorry to interrupt the fun, Mr. Barnes,” the man on the left spoke so low and gruff he could scarcely be heard.

When Bucky started to stir, the man on the right raised his pistol as well. Curled his finger on the trigger.

“We haven’t even met your beautiful bride.” A set of cruel, glinting teeth turned in your direction. Suddenly, all eyes were trained on you—along with a third handgun, pointed at your head, as another man approached.

“Wedded bliss treating you well so far, Mrs. Barnes?”

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