#bucky barnes x reader
A Touch Too Far
Summary: Alpha Steve has had enough of his two omegas playing games with him. Now he’s going to show them who’s really in charge. AKA you learn why its a bad idea to listen to omega Bucky.
Pairing: Alpha Steve x Omega Reader x Omega Bucky
Word Count: 1.6K
Warnings: Omegaverse dynamics, mean/dom Steve, smut, 18+, edging, overstimulation, bratty omega Bucky. Subby 6'5" Bucky. Steve's taller 👀.
a/n: Sinday drabble #2
Steve is always eager to come home after a long day of work. While you each have jobs, you’re an upcoming writer and Bucky teaches self-defense to omegas and betas, Steve is the main provider for the household but it's the two of you that make it a home.
You turned his brownstone into the epitome of warmth and comfort, your nests in the living room and bedroom, something always cooking in the kitchen, music playing throughout the first floor, it's always a little messy and chaotic and he loves every aspect of it.
Providing for you two makes the long, tedious hours worth it. it's not usual for either you or Bucky waiting for him while the other one gets dinner ready. Although last week he had to ban Bucky from answering the door since he doesn’t like to wear clothes inside the house and Steve was tired of him flashing the neighbors. He’s still dealing with the fallout from that, it's amazing how pouty a 6’5” omega can be.
Steve knew it was getting closer to your upcoming heats but he had one final merger that required his presence and so he reluctantly left the two of you alone in your nest. He knew it wasn’t going to be easy on you but he promised he would hurry home. And he pointed out when you both begged him to stay that unlike other omegas at least you had each other. He knows you can use each other to take the edge off until he’s finished work. So neither of you are suffering without him.
But you brats made him suffer all fucking day.
Testing his control, his willpower. He spent the entire day hiding his erection from coworkers and other executives as you fucked yourselves silly, opening the bond so he could feel you come apart. Waves of sensations pulsing through him so fast and hard, he could practically feel your tight wet pussy wrapped around his cock and Bucky’s warm mouth on his.
Over and over and over again. Every attempt on his end to close the bond so he could concentrate on anything was thwarted by the two of you. You both made sure he felt each and every stroke, every sweet clench of your greedy little pussy around Bucky’s cock.
He barely made it through the acquisitions merger with Stark because you decided to come again right as he was signing his name on the dotted line, his hand squeezed the pen so hard, it shattered in his fist, ink splattering everywhere.
But he’s on his way home now. And he’s going to teach you two brats what happens when you provoke him.
The exhilarating scents of his omegas hit Steve before he reaches the front door. Your lighter, floral scent, cool rain, and white tea mingled with Bucky’s potent patchouli, spiced orange, and sandalwood.
“Fuck,” he groans, his head hitting the wooden frame, deeply inhaling the both of you into his lungs. His work bag slips from his fingers and he instinctively places the key in the knob, unable to drag his eyes open.
He stumbles through the door and his knees buckle under the heady weight of your heats permeating the air.
Placing one booted foot in front of him, he drags his body across the foyer. The door slips shut with a soft snick, his bag forgotten on the bright blue doormat. Steve is no longer himself. He’s pure Alpha by the time his foot hits the first step.
He wants his omegas. More importantly, his greedy little omegas need him.
The wet, salacious slapping of skins grows louder, the closer he gets to the bedroom. Your scents coat his frame like a second skin. A symphonic melody of familiar moans, sighs, and broken sobs linger in the air. Oh, he’s missed you two. He’s so close to forgiving you, ready to sink his stiff cock into one of your holes. Steve glances down at his ruined shirt, blotches of black ink mar the once pristine silk.
So close but not quite.
Letting a low gravelly growl, he kicks the door open and the sounds cease abruptly, you freeze in place, soft panting breaking the silence. He tugs on the bond, savoring your pleasure and lust and sweet tint of fear humming between the three of you.
“Hi Steve,” you chirp nervously from the bed. “Alpha I-we tried to wait. I’m sorry, I just- it was really hard, then he got really hard and you know I was trying but then I couldn't stop because I-” You ramble, unconsciously sending out a soothing scent to your Alpha.
Steve smirks, letting his silence fill the void. You’re always a good girl for him, he knows this is all Bucky’s fault. But that doesn’t mean you’re getting out of your punishment sweet girl.
Bucky lifts his head off the pillow, blithely calling out. “Hello Alpha. Miss us?” A smack rings through the room followed by your soft squeal. “We missed you.” Bucky slaps your ass again, bracing his feet on the bed, he thrusts up into your tight wet cunt. “Don’t worry I got this, we don’t need you anym-“ he starts.
Swallowing your moan, you slam your hands on his sweat-laced chest, bringing your face down to his, noses bumping as you hiss. “Don’t you dare. Stop it. Alpha’s already mad at us.”
Bucky scoffs, sucking your bottom lip into his mouth, he grazes it between his teeth, letting you go with a wet plop. “As. I. Was. Saying.” he continues, ignoring the Alpha stomping closer and closer to the bed. “I was doing your job for you and taking care of our girl.”
Steve raises his brow, his large arms folded across his chest, surveying the debauched scene before him. You’re straddling Bucky’s hips, your bodies dripping in sweat, slick pooled under you, spreading across the sheets thrown over the nest.
Bucky meets his cold, unwavering gaze, the intensity of his Alpha’s glare has his voice wavering slightly even as he continues his taunts. “I was fucking her so good, she was calling me Alpha.”
Oh god no. Oh, you never call anyone else Alpha. Ever.
Steve tilts his head, his brow arching even higher. He blinks once, pursing his lips.
Your heart lurches in your chest, slamming against your ribcage, your walls clenching uncontrollably at rage whirling across the bond from your silent Alpha, whipping your head around, you gasp, “oh no. No. I did not. I swear I didn’t. I only call you Alpha.”
Steve doesn’t react. Then a muscle in his jaw twitches.
And that sends a sliver of fear trickling down your spine, you feel a similar emotion emitting from your omega. Oh, now he wants to be afraid.
Your wide eyes swing back to Bucky, catching the flash of regret crossing his features. “James Buchanan Barnes, stop it, you know better-”
“But it's true, watch me give her what you didn’t Steven.” He winks up at you, thrusting his hips in a rapid succession that has you keening. Both men watch your head loll back, your hands grabbing your breasts.
“Oh right there, fuck,” you cry out, sensations pouring through you in fiery waves.
Unable to stop his eyes from rolling, Steve chuckles at his omegas. Releasing a baleful sigh, he shakes his head. Hiding his deep affection for you under his stern anger, Steve strolls over to the bed, placing his hand gently on your back, his other firmly on Bucky’s chest, effectively stilling your movements.
He leans in, soft lips brushing over your ear, his deep voice rumbling over your skin as he whispers his instructions, deliberately keeping his voice too low for Bucky to hear. Effortlessly keeping the large Omega pinned under his palm, he cups your chin, smiling when you nod, ignoring your pout, he rubs his nose over your mating gland, his teeth grazing over his bite mark.
“You’re going to be a good girl for me.” He says loud enough for you both to hear as he pulls back, his tone has a hint of an Alpha command.
Not that he needs it because you always want to be good for him. Nodding, you rub your cheek on his calloused palm. “So good Alpha,” you promise, circling your hips, Bucky’s thick, long cock stretching your velvety walls. “So good.”
Steve can’t tell if you’re talking to him or about Bucky’s cock, but you’re so cute when you’re fucked out and mindless so he turns his attention to his bratty omega.
“Keep going Bucky, I wanna see her come,” he states, bending down, he grabs a handful of Bucky’s hair, yanking his head back to bare his throat, he nips at his mating gland. Bucky preens unabashedly as Steve kisses his bite mark, his hips rolling faster, pounding deeper and harder into your pussy, the bed shaking under the force of his thrusts. Your soft, warm walls feel amazing stretched around him, a soft fuck yes spilling from his lips.
Steve knows how good you’re making Bucky feel, you’re always so tight and wet, such a good girl for your men, it's almost impossible not to come inside you when you’re riding him like the way Steve taught you.
Bucky smiles for a second, then his face drops, suspicion flaring in his blue eyes. Something isn’t right. Steve never lets him get away without any punishment.
“Since you want to be an alpha so bad,” Steve says darkly, laying down beside Bucky, rolling on his side, he props his head on his hand and stares at your joined bodies, watching Bucky’s cock glide in and out of you. He reaches down, his thumb swiping over your clit. “You’re going to fuck her like one.”
He turns his head, looking up at his Alpha, the expression on his face has a whimper escaping Bucky’s throat. He may have gone too far this time.
Chuckling, Steve sweeps his lips over Bucky’s, murmuring softly, “since I have to punish our sweet girl because of you, it's only fair that you make her come until she can't take anymore.”
“And Bucky, you’re not allowed to come until I say you can.” The command sends a shiver through you and Bucky.
“What? No, that's not fair, I was just jokin', please-” Bucky protests, his apology shriveling on his tongue at Steve’s nonsense glare.
Steve is going to enjoy this particular punishment, edging one omega while overstimulating the other, he wonders who will break first.
He wants it to be Bucky so he can give you his knot while Bucky has to watch; Steve hopes you remember his instructions, you always get delirious after a few orgasms. Although judging by the look of determination in your eyes, he gets the feeling you're not going to disappoint him.
You're always such a good girl.
Unlike your counterpart.
"You can ride him better than that sweet girl," he says, his gaze flickering up at you. He smirks when you grind faster.
Bucky's eyes roll back in his head, a choked groan huffed out, almost a whimper as you circle your hips, your walls clamping down around his aching cock.
Steve resumes rolling your clit between his rough fingers, his gaze on your pretty pussy. "You wanted my attention. Now you got it. Little Alpha."
Comments and reblogs are appreciated. Even if it's just an emoji! Thank you for reading.
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Could you please do a bucky and deaf female reader since hawkeye just came and clint is now deaf
The Sound of Your Heart
Pairing: Bucky x deaf!reader
Word Count: 1,321
Summary: Bucky is shy and sweet and he wants to show you how much he likes you.
Author's Note: Thank you so much for this lovely request sweets! I really hope I did a good job with this and I didn't make any mistakes- if I did do something that was incorrect with the way it's written/portrayed or anything at all please let me know, happy to make any necessary changes! Hope you have a great day! HUGS! 💕 Thank you all so much for reading! Much love always! ❤️❤️❤️ Divider by the lovely @firefly-graphics
Warnings: soft and sweet fluff, shy!bucky :)
Gif NOT MINE: Credit goes to @unearthlydust thanks so much 🥰
“How’s the training going?” Sam asks, his eyebrows raised as he follows Bucky’s line of sight.
“Huh?” Bucky asks, dragging his eyes away from you.
Sam smiles wide.
Bucky purses his lips. “Fine. Clint is a great teacher. I’m learning a lot.”
“Good. Then you’ll finally be able to ask her out and you can quit your creepin’!” Sam teases.
Bucky scoffs and turns his head toward you once again. You catch him looking and give him a smile and a little wave. He waves back, his eyes crinkled with his own smile.
“I’m not creeping!” Bucky whisper shouts. “We actually talk a lot. As a matter of fact, she’s been really open about her hearing loss. She explained that she has sensorineural hearing loss because of a problem with the formation of her inner ear.”
Bucky’s face is lit up and animated as he talks, his feelings clearing written all over his features. Sam just watches with a steady grin.
“She said soft sounds are hard to hear and louder sounds are sort of muffled or unclear. She has a hearing aid that helps a little but she uses American Sign Language to communicate.”
When Bucky finally stops talking he takes a breath and looks at Sam.
“What?” Bucky asks, feeling the heat in his cheeks. “I like that she feels comfortable enough to share with me. It’s like she trusts me,” he trails off quietly.
“Why wouldn’t she?” Sam asks. “I trust you too.”
The corner of Bucky’s mouth lifts into a sideways grin. “Thanks Sam.”
“Why don’t you go over and talk to her now?” Sam asks, nudging Bucky with his shoulder.
“Nah,” Bucky answers, dipping his head and rubbing the back of his neck. “I know I’ll mess something up.”
“I’m sure she will understand. You’re still learning,” Sam states.
“Yea. I know,” Bucky mumbles. “I just. I really like her. I want to show her the right way you know. She uses basic signs when we talk and does everything real slow so I can keep up and sometimes she can read my lips, but I want to be able to really talk.”
Sam nods in understanding before clapping Bucky on the back. “Better keep at it Sarge. Pretty sure you’re not the only one that’s been noticing her.”
Bucky’s head whips up and his brow furrows. “What?” he grits out.
“Relax. I’m pretty sure she’s not into Gods,” Sam snickers before he walks out.
In ASL: “You’re improving,” you say and smile when a light dusting of pink coats Bucky’s cheeks. “Have you been practicing?”
Bucky fingers move and turn as he forms the different letters for each word, speaking as he does so. He makes a mistake and stalls then drops his hands.
You quickly take his hands in yours and close your fingers around them with a gentle squeeze. He smiles softly and lets out a breath. You hold his gaze and slide your fingers across the back of his hands before tugging at his leather gloves.
You wait, silently asking his permission.
In ASL: “Yea. It’s ok,” he whispers.
With relieved excitement you gently pull the material from his fingers, first his right hand then his left. You drop the gloves to the table and take his hands in yours again. You hold them a moment and smooth your fingertips over his knuckles before lifting his hands and letting go.
In ASL: “You have beautiful hands,” you tell him. “I like to see them.”
He swallows, his throat dry and his heart beating rapidly.
In ASL: “Everything about you is beautiful,” he says.
Your whole face brightens and you lean forward and cup his cheek, kissing it softly.
In ASL: “Thank you Bucky.”
In ASL: “And yes, I was trying to say I have been practicing. Clint has been helping me,” he tells you, this time signing perfectly.
In ASL: “Did you do this just for me?” you ask, winking.
His eyes go wide and he licks his lips.
“Um,” he says, before he makes any motions with his hands. (In ASL): “Well. “Yea kind of,” he continues. “I’ve been wanting to learn. I love talking to you and it’s only right I learn to do it properly.”
In ASL: “That means a lot to me,” you say. “I can teach you some things too.”
Bucky nods enthusiastically and you get up from the stool at the kitchen island, grabbing his hand and pulling him toward the couch. You sit crossed legged and he does the same, facing you with your knees touching.
You start to work through different handshapes and movements and he starts off great but as you continue and things get harder he messes up a couple of times and gets discouraged. He drops his head with a sigh.
In ASL: “I’m sorry,” he says. “I’m nervous.”
You lift his chin and smile, (in ASL): “it’s ok. I understand.”
You scoot closer and lean in, pressing your palm to his chest just over his heart. He lifts his own hand and rests it atop yours.
“Wow it’s beating fast,” he murmurs.
Your eyes shoot open and you raise a brow in question. He signs the words, looking sheepish.
You giggle and pull his hand away, placing it on your chest over your heart. His eyes widen when he feels the rapid thump of your heart.
He slowly takes his hand away. In ASL: “You too?”
In ASL: “Yes.”
In ASL: “Why?” he asks softly.
In ASL: “I like you Bucky. A lot.”
“You do!” he exclaims with disbelief, then quickly signs the words.
In ASL: “You seem surprised,” you say, narrowing your eyes.
In ASL: “Well. I just. I guess.” He keeps faltering, starting to sign and then stopping when he can’t quite figure out the words.
He takes a deep breath and starts over.
In ASL: “I thought maybe you liked someone else.”
Your brows furrow in confusion, (in ASL): “who?”
He blinks slowly then signs out the letters…T H O R.
Your head falls back with laughter and you snort.
In ASL: “Who told you that?” you ask.
Bucky makes a funny face and shapes his hands into wings, flapping them around while he pretends to shoot suff.
“S A M!” you sign enthusiastically. “He’s such a troublemaker!”
“Tell me about it,” Bucky agrees. “I was worried I had no chance.”
In ASL: “Thor is really nice,” you start, “but he’s not my type.”
In ASL: “Oh. Well, that’s good then,” Bucky chimes. “What is your type?”
You tap your chin and pretend to think then let your eyes wander over his face. You describe his features, signing slowly; the color and shape of his eyes, his smile, the hard line of his jaw, his long and dark lashes, and even the dark stubble, peppered with gray, which lines his cheeks.
Bucky watches your hands, loving the way they move so gracefully with your words but it’s your face and how it lights up with your smile that has him completely captivated.
In ASL: “Wow,” he whispers.
In ASL: “You’re staring again Barnes,” you say with a smirk.
In ASL: “I can’t help it,” he replies, “you’re beautiful.”
You sit up and grab his dog tags, slowly pulling him closer. His eyes drop to your lips and his breath hitches when your fingers caress his jaw.
In ASL: “So does this mean you’ll go out with me?” he asks, lifting his gaze.
Instead of answering you softly press your lips to his, closing your eyes and sighing when you feel his hand close around your wrist. He gives you a gentle tug and you fall into his lap, his arms ghosting up your back until his thumb brushes over your cheek and he tilts your head to deepen the kiss.
“I knew you could do it Barnes,” Clint murmurs from his hiding spot in the ceiling vent.
@book-dragon-13 @beefybuckrrito @christywantspizza @dreamlessinparis @hiddles-rose @jhangelface0523 @jewels2876 @lfnr-blog-blog-blog @soldatbvcky @loricameback @lookiamtrying @marvelgirl7 @nano--raptor @musicalmuffindog1410 @moongreydreams @randomfandompenguin @suchababie @saiyanprincessswanie @maladaptivexxdaydreaming @duchessoftheheart @late-to-the-party-81
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BUCKY BARNES FIC RECS
Iam really proud of this list, it came real good!! so i hope you guys enjoy reading these fics and please do ruin your panties!!
DON’T MAKE ME ASK TWICE - @lanadelreyscokewhor3
You’ve been teasing Bucky all day and he’s had enough. Meet him in his office at 11pm sharp... and don’t make him ask twice.
𝐋𝐨𝐨𝐤 𝐀𝐭 𝐌𝐞 - @coffeecatsandcandles
Asking to make a sex tape was extremely out of Bucky’s comfort zone. You were proud of him for asking, but a huge part of you had wondered why he wanted to do that, specifically.
Stress relief - @a-fictional-mans-wife
There’s something equally fitting and ironic in the fact your work can stress you out, but the only way to destress from it, is at work. With your boss —in his office, on his couch.
Nightmare - @myfictionaldreams
It has been a while since Bucky had a nightmare so when he wakes and sees his hand around your throat, you had to do anything and everything to distract him from spiraling.
Slice of Heaven - @mollygetssherlockcoffee
bucky gets his own slice of heaven.
❝ in the late hours of the night, i’m yours to have ❞ - @twilightrogers
arrangement a previously agreed upon, mutually beneficial part of the relationship. Where if either of you needed a release, the other would be willing.
Make Me Forget - @summerofsnowflakes
Bucky’s had a rough couple of days and you have the perfect way to make him relax.
good peach - @strwbrrybucky
bucky fucking your two holes at the same time??!!
The Car Ride Home - @moongoddessmox
You pick up your boyfriend, Bucky, from the airport after a mission and he can’t keep his hands off of you while you drive.
competition - @crescentbucky
bucky and the reader make a little competition to see who’s more irresistible.
Some Assistance - @wickeddruig
you and your boss have a flirty relationship that never goes anywhere until he gets jealous.
Bucky and the Sundress - @honeybunchesofbucky
When your handsome neighbor shows up to your party, his hungry stares and longing looks lead to a night of fun.
I love that bikini - @xxsquideyesxx
Bucky’s relationship with his stepmother is unconventional.
Sweat For Me - @chaashni
Domspace and brattiness mesh really fucking well.
Granny Panties - @beelicious-barnes
Ta Daa!! Its laundry day.
Love is in the air - @yelenabeloveme
in which your body betrays you in an unfortunate moment with your partner and you have an honest conversation about your bodies.
ℛ𝓊𝓈𝓉ℯ𝒹 - @bucky-soldat
Bucky’s nightmare makes him think that Hydra has come back for him and for the one he loves.
Control - @themissusmarvel
Bucky had been sending you dirty texts all day.
Thin Walls - @imaginativeavengers
The walls in Avengers Tower are pretty thin and everyone isn’t afraid to let you and Bucky know.
Mistletoe and wine - @angelkhi
Babysitting Bucky’s daughter at Christmas leads to some mistletoe mischief.
Suit and Tie - @sunflowersoldat
After reader and Bucky get invited to a costume party, things take a turn when Bucky has to explain his costume.
Pleasures - @harrietbarnesblog
well some finger fucking under dinner table wouldn’t hurt! would it?
punishment, for all my sins - @bonky-n-steeb
Bucky decides to show you who you belong to.
𝐂𝐚𝐧'𝐭 𝐡𝐚𝐯𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮 - @lavendercitizen
Years after his divorce, Bucky craves the company and gentle touch of another soul. He never planned on falling for his sugar baby.
With This Ring - @jobean12-blog
Bucky wakes you up in the middle of the night…
Doll, Come Look! - @youlightmeupfinn
While wrapping presents at the tree, you suddenly hear Bucky ask you to come upstairs. When you get up there? You’re met with a bow… on a certain area… Whoops.
AS TIME GOES BY - @moonlight-prose
the end of the world! such a strange reality to survive him, but you had him. that is until things take a turn and you find yourself stuck with a choice.
Yours - @jadedvibes
You broke up with Bucky right before college to pursue your career goals across the country. You didn’t think the first time you’d see him again years later would be in your office after he was arrested for a crime you know he didn’t commit.
new dress - @writingsbychlo
bucky is a big fan of your new dress, and even more so of the way it fits you, he just has to make sure you see that too.
spank me, slap me, choke me, bite me - @msgorillagripcoochie
bucky accidentally discovers he has a new kink.
Say Please - @motioneverlasting
1940s Bucky getting naughty with his best girl.
Bucky Drabble #1 - @beefybuckcanch0keme
Just Bucky fucking you dumb.
This is Home - @fandoms-writings
You’ve moved back to your hometown and reconnected with Bucky Barnes, and your old friends. But your past has followed you across the country.
Feel You All Around Me - @angrythingstarlight
You made a deal with a demon and now he's come to collect his payment. The kiss is...Suffocating. Invigorating. Consuming. He’s stealing your very soul from your body and you’re helpless to stop him.
LITTLE SURPRISES - @turbolisedcomet
Just little surprises from Bucky.
Just A Scratch - @angrythingstarlight
Bucky can’t describe the way his heart seized in his chest after hearing you were in an accident so no he doesn’t give a damn about some car. You’re worth more than anything he own.
killing me - @mvtthewmurdvck
You're dating. But, you're killing him. All with a silk dress and a smirk.
Honeymoon Suite - @navybrat817
Bucky left you alone in the bed to take a business call during your honeymoon, you are upset if that’s how your married life is gonna with bucky being a mob boss.
addicted to you - @bonky-n-steeb
you find Bucky to be irresistible after you both get affected by sex pollen.
Hold My Hand - @jobean12-blog
You’ve got a hand for Bucky.
𝐜𝐥𝐨𝐬𝐞𝐫 - @aphrogeneias
a bathroom rendevouz with your local hot biker. from the prompt request: "fuck me like a starved animal or leave".
𝐢 𝐰𝐚𝐧𝐧𝐚 𝐦𝐚𝐤𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐡𝐮𝐧𝐠𝐫𝐲 (𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐧 𝐢 𝐰𝐚𝐧𝐧𝐚 𝐟𝐞𝐞𝐝 𝐲𝐚) - @aphrogeneias
there's nothing in the world that bucky loves more than spoiling his girl - but sometimes he ends up treating himself too.
eyes up - @dirtychocolatechai
Bucky having you pinned up against a wall with his metal hand between your legs and his right arm pinning your hands above your head, refusing to let you look away or close your eyes.
Win or Lose - @buckys-left-middle-finger
bucky fills you up before a party, and doesn’t let you wear an underwear. So you decided to give him a show while he’s standing from a far, you spread ur legs and show him how his juices are dripping.
Sand, Sun, and Sex - @mcu1shots
Bucky doesn't think he'll enjoy the beach, then he sees your bikini.
This Is Home - @phantomspiderr
Bucky turns an ordinary, forgettable day into something you want to remember.
mine - @sweetdreamsbuck
cockwarming mafia bucky while he's working 🙄
Adrenaline - @a-fictional-mans-wife
You and Bucky are in a car after a close call, parked where anyone might see and Sam would be there any minute… but Bucky throws caution to the wind and hauls you onto his lap.
Day Off - @marvelsuperfangirl
Reader’s horny and need her beefy boyfriend!
When the Levee Breaks - @sableseb
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𝐑𝐄𝐃; 𝚝𝚑𝚞𝚛𝚜𝚍𝚊𝚢, 𝚏𝚎𝚋𝚛𝚞𝚊𝚛𝚢 𝟷𝟺𝚝𝚑
✧ summary ─ bucky can feel himself flush at as he continues to stare at his phone screen; his face is almost as red as the lingerie you are wearing.
✧ pairing ─ tfatws!bucky barnes x reader
✧ warnings ─ smut, +18, lingerie, nudessss, and bye-bye poor bucky’s heart lol, kissing, make-out, v-day is here and bucky is Excited bc he’s gonna─, vaginal sex, desperate sex bc i’m a sucker for it, marking, biting
✧ a/n ─ we have a time jump! we’re going from august to february real quick lol. we might see how romantic bucky is or not in this chapter... hope you like it! please leave a comment if you do! thank youuu <33
previous part ─ series masterlist
When you received the package, it was only two hours after you woke up. You were still sleepy a bit; one part of your brain was refusing to acknowledge the sun and that the day had started. The other part of your brain was trying to make up for the still-sleeping side. You remembered greeting the delivery guy, slurring a little, and him thrusting the package to you and making you sign a paper. You decided that you were going to open it after you had at least a cup of coffee and something to eat.
Thank fuck, you decided to do that because the thing in the package was not what you expected.
You were honestly expecting that it was the book order you placed only a week ago; having started to read again and getting ready to go back to school to study literature, you were steadily growing your library. You were keeping notes on the books you were reading, so when you saw the thin package when you looked at it carefully, you thought it might the notebooks, this time.
Ho-ho, boy, it was neither.
It was a lingerie. Blood red and lace lingerie.
Your finger moved over the delicate and nice fabric, making you feel all tingly and excited. Your fingers traced the garter belt, the lace designs and all the shapes until they bumped into a card. You grabbed it, realizing it was a hand-written note from Bucky.
“A nice little gift for Valentine’s Day. I heard red is a famous color for it. I bet you’re going to look magnificent in it. Happy Valentine’s Day, my love. I love you.”
You gasped softly. Your heart was fluttering happily as you read the note again and again. Ever since you’ve revealed your feelings to each other at that bookstore, it was all kisses and ‘I love you’s, and flowers with sweet gestures. You were actually very excited to spend the Valentine’s Day with him because you’ve never had a partner who made you feel so loved and cherished before. So, seeing him sending you a gift for the V-day was something that made your heart burst.
You immediately grabbed your phone and dialed his number. He answered in two rings. “Hello, lovely,” he said, voice cheerful.
“What is this? Lingerie? Bucky─” You stopped yourself short when you heard him chuckle softly. You could hear some technical voices speaking on the background.
“A gift for technically both of us,” he said. “I don’t know when exactly I’ll be home, but the mission is over. We’re clearing out right now. So, I thought maybe we could celebrate this V-day crap as lovers, you know?” He explained. You couldn’t help but smile. It was always going to smile like an idiot whenever you heard him declaring his love to you or saying sappy shit.
“Lingerie, though? I almost had a heart attack,” you grumbled. Bucky laughed.
“Imagine what I’ll be going through when I see you in it,” he murmured with a dark voice. You shivered. “I’m gonna romance the hell out of you, baby.” You shuddering violently, but a giggle escaped from your parted lips. He made a noise. “What’s so funny?” You giggled again.
“I just imagined you saying that with a rose between your teeth─ funny image,” you explained. He was silent for a couple seconds before he let out a loud laugh.
“Guess we decided how I’m gonna do my entrance,” he said, amusement obvious in his voice. You smiled. “I missed you, baby,” he added a second later with a soft voice. Your smile turned fond.
“I missed you, too,” you told him. “Tell Sam to not to tire you too much. I need you energetic.” You heard some hustling and footsteps.
“He’s a goddamn supersoldier. He can run around the world ten times and will still have enough energy to make you pass out at the night!” Sam yelled, making your cheeks burn. Bucky was busy laughing his ass out as you pouted.
“Unbelievable,” you grumbled. Bucky laughed harder. You narrowed your eyes as Bucky continued to laugh. “Oh, you’re in so much shit, Barnes,” you said, grinning maniacally at the idea that came to your mind. “See you.” You hung up. You had some plans to put in action and a revenge to take. Poor Bucky wasn’t aware what was about to hit him.
Freshly showered, light make-up applied and your hair shaped naturally, you smiled at yourself. Your reflection in the mirror smiled at you back encouragingly. You had the lingerie Bucky bought you, and you had to admit that he had a good eye. The size was accurate, the color did look great on you, and more importantly you felt really sexy in it. Thankfully, you had heels to go with the set, so you put them on after arranging a body mirror in somewhere in your bedroom where the sunlight hit you beautifully.
Now, all you had to was to pose and let your phone camera to capture you looking sexy and gorgeous as hell in the red, lace lingerie Bucky had bought for you.
In front of the long mirror, you moved your body from one pose to another; showing all your assets that were hugged and shaped nicely with the quality fabric, the color complimenting your skin, you felt giddy. You knelt before the mirror, your ass winking at you on the mirror as you looked over your shoulder with lust sparkles going off in your eyes. You moved on hands and knees, back arched nicely as your head was thrown back, mouth open and eyes closed.
God, you thought. Bucky is going to die. You giggled.
You grabbed your phone when you decided that you took enough photos. You put on his red henley over your lingerie-clad body, humming happily as the cloth reached to your mid-thighs. You padded towards your living room and grabbed Alpine, hugging her close to your chest. Then, you pulled the henley off your shoulder, showing a small glimpse of the lingerie beneath as you took another photo. You sent that one first.
“Hi,” you captioned it. “We missed you a lot.” Then, you sent the one where you where kneeling in front of the mirror. “The lingerie fit so nicely.” The one with where your mouth and breasts were captured was sent as the third picture. “I loved it.”
It took fifteen seconds. You answered the call.
“What the fuck.” You hummed, barely holding back a laughter.
“What? I tried on what you bought me and thought you might want to see it, too,” you explained innocently. Your fingers were scratching Alpine’s chin. You heard him curse in a language you didn’t know. “I actually have more─ Wait.” You pulled the phone back and sent him the picture where you were on your hands and knees, so that he could see the lingerie on your body even better.
“Motherfuck─ You’re gonna make me pop a boner in front the people of Geneva,” he hissed. You bit your lip. He breathed harshly.
“Oh, I thought you’d like to see it on me,” you murmured, still playing the innocent role. Bucky grumbled something to himself, and you heard the same foreign string of words again. You grinned widely. “Don’t you wanna see it on me? You said it would look great on me, and you were right.” You heard a ‘thump’ and a curse word, in English this time.
“You’re gonna fuckin’ kill me,” he groaned. “I cheated death many time, but you are gonna be the one who’s gonna put me in the grave. God, fuck.” You bit your lip. You stayed silent as you sent him another picture; you were on your knees again, braless, your ass was the show of the picture and the garter belt hugged your thighs nicely as the lace of the thong highlighted the shape of your ass. “You─”
“Yo, Barnes!” You heard Sam’s voice. “Need your help in here!” Bucky cursed again.
“I’m coming!” He yelled at him back, and you snorted.
“Hopefully not,” you murmured. “Would prefer you at home for that.” You were met with ten seconds long silence before he scoffed.
“Now she’s makin’ jokes… You better be energetic when I come home or so help me God.” He exhaled through his nose harshly. “See you soon.” He hung up and left you smirking. You rubbed Alpine’s small belly, scratching under her chin and behind her ears. Your phone pinged. It was a text message from Bucky.
“You do look great in it, though, baby. Can’t wait to get my hands on you and show you how much I love the way that set looks on you.” You felt your cheeks heat up as you smiled at his text. There was a kissy face and red heart emojis at the end of it, and you were honestly so happy that you giggled to yourself. You sent him a ‘thank you’ text with a red heart emoji and locked your phone. You couldn’t wait for him to come home to you.
When you yanked your apartment door open after hearing your doorbell rang, you came face-to-face with a bouquet of red roses and a Bucky smiling at you behind it.
“Hi!” He said, stepping inside. He extended the bouquet to you and leaned in for a kiss. You hummed when your lips met and sighed into the kiss, missing the way his lips moving onto yours even if it had been only three days. “Happy Valentine’s Day,” he whispered. You smiled at him.
“Thank you,” you hugged the flowers to your chest and took a deep breath of that soothing smell. You lifted yourself on your tiptoes and kissed him passionately again. “Happy Valentine’s Day to you, too, bub.” He hummed.
“Meow?” Alpine greeted Bucky, sitting back on her haunches and looking up at him with her red collar around her small neck. Bucky chuckled. He quickly took his shoes and jacket off and bent down to grab the feline.
“Hello,” he greeted the cat. Alpine mrred, placing her paw on Bucky’s cheek. Bucky smiled so widely at her that the crinkles around his eyes deepened. You felt your heart flutter happily at the sight before you. “You missed me, too, cupcake?” You snorted at the pet name he gave her. “What, she looks like one.” You laughed with a grimace on your face.
“What the fuck, Bucky,” you said between your laughter. “What part of her looks like a cupcake?” He frowned.
“She’s… fluffy like one?” He said, raising an eyebrow and grimacing at you back. You giggled.
“Sure.” He rolled his eyes. He waved a hand towards you dismissively.
“Don’t listen to your mom, cupcake,” he told the cat, and Alpine mrred as a response. “She’s jealous.” You made a sound, eyes wide as you looked at Bucky. He chuckled when he saw your face. He came over to you and kissed your cheek. “I’m messin’ with you, baby,” he said and kissed your other cheek. You rolled your eyes.
“Go clean up,” you told him. “You stink.”
“Aw, you don’t have to declare your love to me,” Bucky cooed, eyes wide and a stupid, mocking smile on his pouty lips. You took Alpine from him, ignoring the small cries that the feline let out, and pushed him back a little.
“Git,” you said, chuckling.
“Fine, fine,” he grumbled. Leaning in for another kiss, he disappeared into the bedroom you shared. You scratched Alpine’s head for a while. You heard the pipes coming to life as Bucky turned on the water, and then you heard him rummaging through his closet briefly. You hummed. Waiting for him to get in the shower, you dropped the cat on her bed and walked to your bedroom, shredding the clothing you had on your body.
You knew that Bucky would be quick with his shower since he didn’t have any blood or dirt on him, but just the good ole sweat. So, you lay down on your bed only in the lingerie that he bought you and stretched. The fabric felt so good on your skin, and the color complimented you nicely. You still had the light make-up you put on for the pictures you took, and with a last second thinking, you got up and applied the lipstick you bought a couple days ago. It was blood red, like your lingerie, and the saleswoman assured you that it was the kind of lipstick that stayed on even after vigorous events. You giggled excitedly.
The water turned off, and you heard Bucky snatching the towel off from its rack. Your heart started to beat faster as he stepped out of the bathroom only to stop short.
“Goddamn,” he whispered. His blue eyes were immediately swallowed up by darkness, and they moved up and down on your body, taking the delicious sight right before him. “You look like a feast that’s made only for me,” he groaned. He ditched the towel and got on the bed, crawling towards you on his hands and knees. “Only I can eat and taste it.” His mismatched hands found your ankles and wrapped around them. You shivered.
“Yeah?” You asked him breathlessly. “Then, what are you waiting for, hm?” You widened the stance of your legs, inviting him to find his usual space between them, and Bucky didn’t waste a second to accept the invite. You smiled at him.
“God, baby, you look so beautiful,” he whispered, the heat of the moment disappearing briefly. You felt your cheeks heating up at his words.
“Thank you,” you whispered back and wrapped your arms around his neck. Bucky hummed. “Kiss me?” You asked him, eyes glinting with hope. He made a soft sound and leaned in to sweep you into a passionate kiss. You moaned.
You always loved kissing Bucky. His kisses were always so nice, so loving and so hot that you couldn’t help but squirm under him every time he kissed you. His lips were stroking yours very gently, making you shiver and gasp into his mouth, and you loved the feeling of them. His tongue touched your bottom lip, licking it, and you parted them. He dropped his body down to cage yours under his bulk while he kissed you stupid. You whimpered.
“God, Bucky,” you whispered. His lips trailed down to your neck; kissing and sucking small bruises all over the sensitive skin. He murmured nonsense into your skin, his light beard scratching your neck raw a bit. You bit your lip and let out a soft moan. His hands were on your thighs, stroking them up and down and digging his fingers into the meat of them occasionally.
“Baby,” he muttered, and then he hummed. His lips trailed down to the valley of your breasts. He placed a kiss there, and then on your breasts before he slid one of the straps of your shoulder to take a nipple into his mouth. You gasped. Your hand was quick to slip through the dark brown locks, you pulled on them to make him moan loudly. You hummed, pushing your chest towards his mouth more as he sucked on your nipple harshly. He pulled back with a ‘pop’; his lips shiny with spit and red, a sweet flush on his cheeks and the darkness of his eyes, he looked so sexy.
“Can’t─” You gasped. “Been too long,” you added and pulled on his arms. “No teasing? Please? I need you.” Bucky cursed and moaned.
“Yeah, alright, honey,” he whispered and leaned in for a kiss, hoping it would soothe you. He rolled his body next to yours, letting your spread your legs wide. Then, he let his fingers grab the hem of your panties, guided them to pull it off and threw it somewhere. You whimpered into his mouth when you felt his fingers swiping the wetness of your pussy. “Damn,” he cursed, fingers sliding inside of you with a soft squelching sound. “So wet, so warm, so soft, hmm.” You felt your body burn at his words. His fingers were moving in and out of you first at a slow pace, and then a faster one. Soon, your pussy was making obscenely loud slick noises as Bucky plunged his fingers in and out of you.
“Fuck,” you moaned, back arching. “Fuck, yees!” You dug your nails deep into his meaty arms. He was watching your face only two, three inches away from you. His mouth was parted, eyes hooded as he took in the sight of you squirming under him with the pleasure his fingers were giving you. Bucky curled his fingers, placed his thumb on your clit and rubbed it slowly. You gasped again, but louder than before. He bit his lip. He could feel his cock throb at the sight of you, could feel his balls tightening up, and for a second, he thought, maybe I can come just from watching her.
“God, baby, you drive me fuckin’ crazy,” he groaned loudly. You sobbed out a moan and closed your legs, trapping his hand between your thighs, and his fingers into your pussy. That didn’t stop Bucky. He continued to fuck you with them fast and unforgiving. He could feel how close you were. “Come,” he snarled. “Come on my fingers, love, c’mon, gimme.”
With a scream, you did. Your leg muscles tightened up and trembled. Your eyes rolled back, throat bared, you gasped.
Bucky cursed. You looked so goddamn sexy that the sight of you losing it almost made him come. He slowed his fingers down to a caress. His free hand pried your legs open, and he pulled his fingers out of you. You whined when you saw him licking his fingers clean and humming at the taste of your juices. It made your whole body burn, burn and burn.
You threw your arms around him to pull him down for another filthy kiss. It was burning for a while now, since the moment you put on the lingerie, and even though you just came, your body was wanting more.
“Bucky,” you whimpered. “Get in me.” You kissed his plush lips, drawing out a moan from him. “God, please, please, I need you, bubba.” Bucky let out a broken sound and then a moan. He never saw you acting like this, it was generally him who was this desperate because he had gone without another person’s touch for too long.
“Alright,” he cooed. “Okay, baby, I will. Sshh.” He rolled over, getting his body between your legs and placed his elbows on the sides of your head. “Shit, condom─” He gasped when your fingers curled around his throbbing member. You shook your head.
“Don’t need one,” you told him breathlessly. “Got my IUD renewed when you were away.” Bucky groaned loudly at that, thanking the advantages of 21st century. “’s fine, you can just slip inside─” He buried his head into the crook of your neck as your words and the pleasure boomed in his veins.
“Yeah, fuck, okay,” he hissed. “Stop before I come.” You gave his cock a one last squeeze before you guided it to your pussy.
Both of you groaned loudly in relief as Bucky slid inside. Your wet and soft walls were hugging his aching cock so nicely that he felt tears prickling at the corners of his eyes. He stayed still for a few seconds. The thump-thump-thump of his almost-there orgasm slowly lessened, and he started to move when he didn’t feel so close to coming.
“Yes!” You gasped at his ear. Bucky knew that how much he wanted to make love to you slowly, it was not going to happen in the first round. So, he crowded you against the mountain of pillows you had on your bed, curled his knees a bit higher, and started pounding into you. You moaned.
“Fuck!” Bucky hissed through his teeth. You held onto him tightly. Your nails were digging deep into his muscles, making him twitch madly in you at the small, prickly pain at his back. His lips were on your neck, resting right onto your pulse, and beard was scratching the skin of your collarbone raw. You loved it. You wanted to wear his marks, his bruises, so that you could look at the mirror and see that he left something behind for you to remember this night.
“God, yes, mark me up!” You panted. Your eyes were closed and legs were spread open as wide as they could. Bucky’s fingers found the clips of your bra, and he pulled it off, freeing you from the lacy clothing. He, then, latched onto a nipple and sucked on it hard, his teeth digging in a bit deeper as he continued to suck. You knew that there was going to be a gorgeous hickey when he was done with it. You sighed happily only for your breath to hitch at his next thrust. He pulled off of your nipple.
“What’s─” He moaned. “What’s gotten into you? Goddamn, baby,” he rasped. He was breathless, sweat was beading at his forehead and his back, he could feel himself getting close. You moaned at him back before you answered.
“I just, oh, hmm,” you panted. “I just missed you! Gosh, I missed you so much!” You wrapped your legs around his waist tightly and held on. Bucky fastened the pace. His cock was moving in and out of you at a rapid pace, balls hitting your other hole and smearing your slick there along with the pre-cum his cock was drooling.
“I’m close,” you whined. “I’m so close, so close, please, please!” Bucky growled. He was so close, too. He could feel his orgasm in his mouth; it was right there─
You gasped loudly, tightened around him like a vice and threw your head back as you came. Bucky let out a ‘oh’ and thrusted once, twice and three times before he came into your pussy; his teeth clamping on your neck and sucking a large hickey there while his body was busy with twitching with aftershocks of his orgasm.
He let go off your neck as your limbs unlocked around him. Both of you were sweaty, breathless mess. Your hair wild, body sparkling with the sweat. Bucky slowly pulled out of you and threw himself empty space next to you.
“Holy fucking shit,” you whispered at the same Bucky breathed: “Goddamn.” You chuckled. Your body was buzzing from the two orgasms you got in a row; the hickeys Bucky sucked onto your skin were throbbing pleasantly. You could feel your body cooling down.
“I have no idea what took over you, but I ain’t complainin’,” Bucky murmured a couple minutes later. You chuckled again. Turning towards him, you placed hand on his sweaty chest, chin resting on top of it.
“I told you, I just missed you.” Bucky hummed.
“I should go away more often, then,” he said.
“Don’t you dare!”
Bucky chuckled. “Yeah, alright.” His metal hand found its home at your back, fingers rubbing the sticky skin up and down slowly. You hummed. You were so relaxed and happy that you wanted to stay in this moment forever, but knowing Bucky, he was going to make every moment of your life like this one. You smiled.
“Hey,” you called out. Bucky answered you with a little sleepy hum. “Have you ever thought about traveling just because you want to?” He frowned.
“Yeah,” he said. “I did.” Sighing a little, he smiled down at you. “I always wanted to see Grand Canyon, y’know? Something about that place just made me wanna see it, but I couldn’t when the war happened.” You kissed his pec.
“Just the Grand Canyon?”
“No,” his answer came quick. “I… I went to a lot of places in the world even though I don’t remember all of it.” You held onto him just a tad tighter, knowing that he was talking about his the Winter Soldier times. “I would like to see those places again but as Bucky Barnes,” he said. “Italy, France, Belgium, England, Ukraine, Prague, Finland… Many other places, I saw them before but that wasn’t me. I want to experience those places as myself.” You smiled.
“You know…” You started. “I still have a year and a half before I start school…” It was true. You decided to take two years off for yourself; no working, no job, but just reading and discovering yourself. Bucky hummed approvingly. “You’ve been talking about taking some time off for yourself lately now that Sam is Cap.” He hummed again, but it sounded more like a question. “What if we travel the world during that free time?” You asked him. “We’re both free, we can do that. You know the languages; you can teach me a bit and we can go see those places. We’ll take a lot of pictures, buy small souvenirs, and taste one local food there. Hell, we can keep a travel journal together if you want to.” You rose up on your elbow to look at his thoughtful face. “What do you say? We’ll start from Grand Canyon.”
Bucky’s blue eyes looked into yours without blinking for a while. He was frowning lightly, biting his lip and obviously thinking. “Are you serious about it?” You nodded.
“I want to make nice and happy memories with you, Bucky,” you whispered. “If you want to do the same, that is.” His flesh hand grabbed your chin and stopped you from looking away.
“I will always want you by my side and preferably in all of my memories, whether it’s bad or good,” he said, his voice and eyes serious. “I love you, baby, of course I’ll want you.” You smiled at him while tearing up a bit. He leaned in to place a chaste kiss on your lips.
“I love you, too,” you whispered. It was his turn to smile. “Happy Valentine’s Day,” you added. He chuckled.
“Yeah, hell of a day this Valentine’s Day,” he said, making you chuckle, too. “We’ll in France next year on this day to have the full experience, alright?” You nodded, feeling giddy and happy and so in love. “Grand Canyon first, though.”
Chuckling, you kissed him. “Grand Canyon first.”
Bucky smiled widely as he leaned in for another kiss that lasted a bit longer than before.
“I can’t believe you’re leaving me all alone with these assholes,” Sam sent to the groupchat. Bucky chuckled evilly.
“Well, it’s about time that I have some off time myself, right?” He sent back. “Besides, I have money so gotta spend that somehow.” You snorted when you saw his text.
“You’re an idiot,” you told him. He grinned at you toothily.
“Yeah, well,” Sam sent. “Your grumpy looks helped me get away with more talking, though.” You let out a ‘aww’ while Bucky giggled.
“I’ll send you pics of me pouting and you can show them to the people you don’t wanna talk to,” he said. You laughed. He chuckled and winked. Sam sent an eye-roll emoji. You laughed harder.
“You know what? Nevermind. I’m happy without your face clogging up my phone gallery. Hope you get sunburn.” Both you and Bucky laughed loudly at Sam’s text.
“Aww, Sammy,” Bucky sent and received a middle finger emoji in return. Bucky snorted. “I’ll take you with us next time. I promise.” He received another middle finger emoji. “Don’t be such a pouty bird. Besides Alpine will do my job about grumping at you.”
“He’s gonna hit you with his wings next time you go on a mission,” you told him, and Bucky laughed.
“Nah,” he said. “He likes me.” You rolled your eyes but smiled fondly.
“Whatever,” Sam sent. “That four-legged devil better not sit on my face while I’m sleeping.” Bucky narrowed his eyes at the text and then looked at Alpine.
“Bucky, no,” you said, knowing what he was thinking.
“Bucky, yes. I’m gonna train her to sit on people’s face while they’re sleeping,” he told you. You snorted and then laughed.
“She’s an angel, fuck you very much, Wilson.”
“I said WHATEVER, dude.” Bucky rolled his eyes. Then, he received another text from Sam but through private message, not from the groupchat. “Sarah wants y’all to come to her Sunday cookout before you leave, though. She says she’ll skin you alive if you don’t bring her around.” Bucky looked at you. You were playing with Alpine in the middle of your living room. The white, fluffy cat was trying to paw at the toy in your hand. Bucky smiled at the thought of you meeting with the family he made after the snap.
“Will do. I want her to meet the family, too.” Sam sent a smiley face.
Bucky leaned back on the couch, feeling happy and excited at the thought of you meeting them. He couldn’t wait for his family to be all together.
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𝙙𝙞𝙥𝙡𝙤𝙢𝙖𝙘𝙮 || orc!bucky x princess!reader
𝙨𝙪𝙢𝙢𝙖𝙧𝙮 || you want to make peace with the orc army threatening to conquer your kingdom, but you only have one thing to offer their leader.
𝙬𝙤𝙧𝙙 𝙘𝙤𝙪𝙣𝙩 || 5.6k
𝙬𝙖𝙧𝙣𝙞𝙣𝙜𝙨 || SMUT (18+ only, just like my entire blog!!), monsterfucking/exophilia, size kink, oral sex (f and m receiving), penetrative sex, painful sex (kinda but not THAT bad), housewife kink, degradation (not super hard, but it's there), the slightest touch of misogyny kink?, cum swallowing/cumplay, facial, creampie, breeding kink, discussions of war and death
𝙖𝙪𝙩𝙝𝙤𝙧'𝙨 𝙣𝙤𝙩𝙚 || you know that song 'the boys are back in town'? yeah that but it's 'the whores are back in town'
"I thought perhaps we could end this war."
Standing alone in the orc chieftain’s hut, wearing a dress that gave away instantly that you were a princess, demanding a treaty. No one ever accused you of being particularly weak of mind or spirit… but even for you, this was a risky move. You just hoped that the hulking orc sitting across the tent from you– with his massive stature, surprisingly-bright blue eyes, and dark brown braids of hair falling around his tusked face– couldn’t see the fear running through your veins.
He didn’t seem to; he only scoffed incredulously. "Of course, I'd like that as well. Slaughtering your people leaves my armies exhausted," he smirked.
You hadn’t been expecting the warmest welcome from the leader of your enemies– Bucky, as they called him, a strange name to a human but pretty standard for an orc– yet even so, that seemed like a pretty low blow. You should’ve felt like you had the upper-hand wearing your finest silks while he only had on a loincloth tied with leather cord and some sparse jewelry, and yet somehow you were the one who felt exposed as his gaze penetrated you.
"Why should I consider diplomacy to end a war that I'm winning?" Bucky pressed.
"Because I have something of great value to offer," you explained. "I believe this war can be ended with a diplomatic marriage."
"Marriage?" he repeated with a raised eyebrow. "Between who?"
"Well, I…" you began nervously, looking at the furs thrown down beneath your feet; your gaze shot up after a moment when you heard him let out a deep laugh, one that made his belly shake and his braids swing as he tossed his head back.
"Oh," he realized aloud, "you don't mean… you and I, do you?"
You swallowed thickly. "I just thought perhaps—"
"You thought I'd be tempted by your weak little body, your royal lineage, your riches?" he spat. "Those things are of no matter to orcs. Our women are strong, brave, and independent. You… you're so… puny. Born with a silver spoon in your mouth, wielding power not because of your intelligence or fortitude or strategy but simply because you happen to be the daughter of the king. It's pathetic."
He kept laughing as you tightened your fists. "You think I'm not brave? I came here, didn't I? I offered myself to save my kingdom," you reminded him. "I moved across enemy lines, without my father's approval—"
"Stop," he demanded, and you choked on your next word as you fell into sudden silence. "The king hasn't sent you?"
"No," you confirmed. "He's… ill. He is too weak to manage the armies alone. His military advisor wants blood, he will not hear a word of peace. So, I ordered the guard to bring me here… I will not watch my people suffer any longer, if I can stop it."
He seemed to take that much more seriously than anything else you said.
"Please," you continued, "do not let the violent nature of my father's royal general poison you to humans. We are not such a brutal people, usually…"
"Do you mean to imply that we orcs are?" Bucky pressed.
"N-no!" you stammered. "I'll admit some humans believe that, but I came here in good faith, believing you wouldn't kill me even if you could."
"You've thrown yourself into the hands of the enemy, on a whim, against your father's wishes and without his knowledge…" Bucky reiterated. "Brave, perhaps. Or just foolish."
You chewed your lip as you stared down at the ground.
"You clearly know so little about our people," he continued. "Because if you knew anything you'd know that a tribal orc war chieftain marrying a human isn't very favorable for us. My children should be fierce and fearsome… being half-human might bring shame on them."
"Well, that's not fair," you frowned. "I didn't know orcs were so prejudiced."
"As if humans aren't?" he scoffed. "A half-orc might be looked down upon in orc society, but they would be killed in human society."
That, sadly, was true, and you couldn't deny it.
“But…” he began, and you let hope fill you again as you wondered if your plan for peace could really work, “you seem to have your head on straight, mostly. I mean, for a human…”
“I try my best,” you offered humbly.
“You don’t really know what you’re asking for, with this marriage you’ve suggested,” he continued. "Orcs mate for life," he reminded you. "You wouldn't be leaving me when the allyship is through, to find another husband from another kingdom next— some puny human boy your mother likes."
"And we don't take commitment lightly. You would be pledged to me for all your life, and me to you— not even death permits an orc to marry again or even lay with another."
"I understand," you nodded again.
He frowned. "You've heard all this and you still think a diplomatic union is reasonable?"
You gnawed on the inside of your cheek for a second. "Well… yes. My offer still stands."
He let out a bemused huff of air from his nose. "You're tenacious, I'll give you that," he smirked. "It's a shame I'm not attracted to humans or I'd be tempted to mate you."
Your heart ached when he began to deny you that way… but you ached somewhere else as well. "You've… never laid with any creature but an orc?" you wondered aloud.
He nodded in agreement, his large tongue darting out to wet his lips. "No— elves are too stuck-up and even if I could get past the looks of a dwarfish woman, with how short she is it would probably kill her to try."
He must've caught the way you bit your lip, your eyes darting to the loincloth over his lap for a moment, because his eyes sparkled as he smirked at you.
"You've only had human partners, I assume?" he pressed. You nodded. "Good… I don't think you could handle anything else."
"N-no," you stammered, "wait…"
"What should I wait for?" he asked with a raised brow.
"For… for me to think of something else to say, to try to convince you," you answered bluntly. He smiled around his long tusks.
"You are determined to end this war," he realized.
You nodded nervously.
"But you haven't even shown me what you're offering," he purred. "Take that silly dress off."
For someone who had been throwing yourself at him a second ago, you suddenly hesitated.
"What, you're not getting shy now, are you?" he snorted. "Undress."
Shivering at the forcefulness of his demand, you reached up and started to unlace your dress, awkwardly shimmying out of it and standing before him in your undergarments.
"Gods, you humans are so conservative," he sneered. "You cover your bodies with so many layers— we orcs really only need the one," he chuckled as he tugged his loincloth for emphasis. “Take off more, show me your body.”
Finally, you untied your chemise, and dropped it to expose your chest to the warm breeze blowing gently through the tent– it must’ve been that that made your nipples peak and harden, not the way his eyes were grazing over your form.
You let it fall the rest of the way, bare before him with the light fabric pooled at your feet. His lip twitched into the subtlest snarl as you stood in front of him. You reached up to begin to take off the golden tiara in a halo around your head, but he interrupted before you could even lift it away. "No, you can leave that on," he smirked.
For a moment you almost smirked to yourself, realizing he might not have been entirely honest before when he said human royal lineage meant nothing to him.
“Turn around,” he ordered, and you slowly turned in a circle, looking back at him as he shamelessly ogled your ass.
When you were facing each other again, he carried a glimmer in his eye that made your knees a little weak.
“I’ll admit, your body is… interesting,” he offered. “Human women have a certain charm to them– some orcs prefer humans as mates, I’ve never really understood why… especially the woman, there’s no way a human man can pleasure them the way we can.”
A shiver dashed up your spine. Your gaze watched his massive hands rub over his legs– you could only imagine how an orc like him would pleasure a partner, human or orc.
“So, this offer of marriage,” he recalled, “doesn’t bring me much strategic benefit.”
“W-we have resources,” you blurted out, “we control the coasts: we have ocean fish, pearls, whale’s oil–”
“Stop,” he frowned, “I already said I have no use for your riches. Pearls? You think that’s what I want, pearls?”
You awkwardly shrunk back into yourself as you realized your folly.
“No, I’m not interested in what your kingdom can offer me as an ally,” he asserted. “I’d rather learn about what you can offer me. As my wife.”
Just the phrase ‘my wife’ from his lips, speaking of you, made your heart stop for a moment. Before you’d hatched this plan you’d never even imagined being an orc’s wife– except maybe when you heard the sort of stories children were told to keep them to behave. Practice your table manners or you’ll have to marry an orc instead of a prince! Now, it sounded like a twisted sort of fairytale… not especially romantic, but so shockingly tempting and shamefully erotic.
"Why don't you come here and show me what a good wife you could be for me?" Bucky purred. "I've heard human women like to do strange things to their men. Pleasure them with their mouths, for example."
"Do orcs not do that?" you mumbled awkwardly.
"No, we like to keep things practical," he smirked. "But I wouldn't mind seeing how a human girl would pleasure her mate…"
You walked forward in just a few steps– he was taller than you even sitting down, and he smirked as he looked down at your doe-eyed expression. After taking a shaky breath you dropped carefully to your knees, reaching to the loincloth hanging at his waist. You tried not to react too strongly when you pulled it aside, but it's hard to hide your shock when you see an orc's cock.
Thick, impossibly thick, with a fat head and veins along the sides— it was laying on his thigh, still soft, yet you couldn't even fit your hand all the way around it when you tried to pick it up.
Gods, it was heavy too… you actually had to put some effort in to lift it. It felt more like a trunk than a cock; Bucky chuckled lowly at your obvious nervousness. "Don't be shy, human, this is what you came here for, isn't it?"
"Not exactly," you mumbled to yourself, leaning down to experimentally lick the very tip of it. It just tasted like skin, maybe a bit saltier than usual, but nothing too worrisome. Going back down again, you began to lick all over the head.
"Mmm," he groaned, deep in his chest. "You won't even be able to fit it in your mouth, will you?" You shook your head. "Try anyway," he encouraged.
You opened your mouth as wide as it could go, and just barely managed to get your lips around it. You let your tongue swirl over the skin inside your mouth, moving to take more… but even with all your might, you couldn't even get your lips past the ridge of his bulbous head— not when he'd become almost completely hard in your hand now.
So, you pulled back to lick a long, thick stripe from the very base up to the slit at the end. "O-oh," he groaned, "that's nice… maybe human women are worth the trouble after all."
You gave him more licks– some long and slow, others fast and short to keep him guessing– focusing on trying to taste every inch of him. He seemed to like it best when you gently pulled his foreskin back and licked the edge of where his head met his shaft.
After a while doing that, you dipped down even lower to lave his massive balls with your tongue, making him groan even louder as his hand reached down to squeeze your shoulder— the whole thing fit in just half of the palm of his massive hand. "Damn, princess, are you really so insatiable? You want to taste an orc's fat balls?" he grunted.
With your mouth wide open there was no way to stop your moan from slipping out when you heard those lewd words.
"I bet you're not used to being talked to that way. Princes and consorts, they probably just go on about how pretty you are, read poetry about how they've longed for you," he mocked. "You like this better, though, don't you? You like being reminded that you're just a dirty whore on your knees in my tent, begging me to marry you… well shit, this is the best proposal I ever saw," he smirked.
You suckled on the tip of his head again, blinking up at him and admiring the dark look in his eyes as he watched you. He seemed pleased by you looking up at him, even groaning through his teeth a bit.
"Mm, you'd make a good little wife, wouldn't you?" he smirked. "You love using your mouth so much, I'd let you lick my cock every day."
Let you, like it was a privilege. Why did that turn you on so much?
“Stroke it, princess– stroke my cock,” he groaned, bucking up his hips just a bit as you had to use both hands to try to jerk him off. It seemed like he had more fun watching you struggle to manage the size of him than he got from whatever sensations your actions gave him– that said, he certainly didn’t mind either. In fact, he started to pant out his breaths as you found a pattern of stroking the thick shaft of his cock while your mouth opened wide to lick over his tip. “Feels different than anything I’ve ever experienced before,” he continued, words thin with his breathing getting quicker. “Your sweet little tongue… your warm, wet mouth…” he enumerated, groaning louder. “Fuck, your lips look real pretty stretched out because of me. I bet your jaw is aching from trying to fit me, but it’s not your fault, your body just wasn’t made to take massive orc cock.”
And yes, your jaw was incredibly sore, but it was irrelevant compared to the ache between your legs. Watching him slowly fall into ecstasy because of your work made the most unique sense of pride warm your skin, and something about using your own small frame (at least, compared to his) to pleasure a body so much larger and stronger than your own was… exhilarating.
"Mm, I'm gonna come," he warned with a low growl. “S’that what you want, slutty princess? To make me come?”
You nodded and hummed as you took his head (or, most of it) into your mouth, slobbering all over it eagerly. His hips started to rock in his chair, not much but plenty to stuff your mouth– so full even your moans were stifled.
“Just don’t stop, little one, f-fuck–” he demanded, and suddenly as he let out a roar of a moan, thick ropes of come sprayed right into your throat; just a few shots filled your mouth so much that it started to pour out of the corners of your mouth, and when you gagged, more ran down your chin. When you leaned back slightly, it began to spurt out onto your face instead, in your hair and over your cheeks, just barely missing your eyes.
The last pump of his come ran in a long drip down his shaft; he sighed and sunk back into his chair, holding your neck with one hand (not too tight, just enough to keep you still) and gripping the base of his cock with the other. Without even being asked you sat up slightly and licked up the last drop of come, after you’d swallowed what was already in your mouth, and he let out an exhausted (yet impressed) laugh.
“Such a naughty little slut of a human I’ve got,” he praised. You whimpered needily when he leaned down and began to lick his own come off your face with his long, yet smooth, tongue– only to hold your mouth open and spit it all in there for you. “So fucking eager,” he grunted as he saw that glassy look in your eyes, realizing how cockdrunk you were and how much you loved having a belly full of orc come. It really was so much that you thought you wouldn’t need another meal today.
“Bucky…” you mumbled weakly reaching up to wrap your arms around his neck.
"Do human women like having their pussy licked?" he wondered aloud.
"Uh, generally…" you stammered out your awkward reply. He instantly picked you up to toss you onto his strategy table, brushing maps and compasses out of the way as he spread your legs open. Laying on the table and the look in his eye both made you feel like a feast he was about to devour. Even having already been coated in his spend, you felt sickly aroused by his massive hands holding your legs open, those blue eyes staring right down at your pussy as he licked his lips.
"I don't even know where to start with a delicious little cunt like this," he grinned. "I bet there are so many places that make you squeal and squirm… but the lucky thing is, I can just lick all of them."
And he did: with one flat lap of his tongue he easily coated your entire pussy, making you shake and moan as he slowly pulled his tongue up and did it again.
"Mm," he purred happily, "you taste sweet. Orcish women wouldn't tolerate being so vulnerable like this, or wasting their time doing anything but breeding. But I guess the rumors about human girls are true… you love to do all sorts of strange things– desperate little minxes. And I bet lots of you want big, mean orcs to fuck you even when you know it’s going to wreck your tiny cunts, eh?”
“F-fuck,” you stammered as he gave another long lick to your folds, this time making your body shake when he brushed right over your clit. “I-I don’t know, I just know that it feels so good when you– oh gods– when you taste me like this…”
“Yeah? What about if I fuck you with my tongue?” he smirked, diving back in to suck on your swelling bud while he pushed his tongue right inside your hole.
“Oh!” you yelped, feeling your channel stretch to fit the appendage– it vibrated inside you, just a bit, when he let out a pleased moan, and it made it feel even better.
His tongue was shockingly thick and long, and his tusks brushed against your inner thighs: this was nothing like being pleasured this way by a human man. Even his tongue thrusting into you felt like being really fucked; you whimpered and arched your back, grabbing your hands onto his braids just to have something to hold onto.
"Fuck, you're naughty," he smirked. "An Orcish woman would never grab a man's braids— they're sacred."
"O-oh, I'm sorry, I didn't mean to offend—" you began your rushed attempt to apologize.
"No, I like it," he assured. "Reminds me that you're just a dumb little human girl who has no idea what she's getting herself into."
Oh, you really shouldn’t have liked being called dumb. When anyone else questioned your intelligence you were inspired to nearly go to blows over it. But now, it just made your cunt get wet, betraying your real desire.
“I should make you come like this but I’m just too impatient,” he admitted with a grin, sitting back in his chair with legs spread wide in a show of casual confidence. "Come on over here and take my cock inside you," he instructed. "It didn't fit in your mouth but I bet it'll fit in your cunt."
"How do you know?"
"Because I'll make it fit."
You got up on weak legs from his table; you approached him and delicately placed yourself on his lap, straddling his legs. You watched your hands reach up to his shoulders, then run down over his chest which rose and fell with slow breaths, then over his round belly– and the muscles you felt beneath his thick shape. He chuckled when you bit your lip.
“Takes a truly wanton little human woman like you to appreciate a body like mine,” he announced proudly. “I’m not skinny and lean like those little boys you play with in the castle. This is a man’s body.”
“I know,” you whispered.
“You like my belly, princess?” he prompted with a tilted smirk.
“Y-yeah,” you breathed.
“You wanna ride my cock? I’m still hard as fucking steel for you, little one.”
“Please, Bucky,” you whined, and his massive hands grabbed your hips to guide your entrance right over the head of his cock. You swallowed thickly when you felt for yourself how massive he was compared to your little hole.
“You’re so tiny, I might rip you in half,” he warned with a smile.
“I don’t care, just– just take me,” you whispered, mouth falling into a gasp as he pulled you down and shoved his head inside. “Oh,” you choked, neck going limp and head going back, “f-fuck, Bucky…”
“My little princess,” he chuckled deeply. “My sweet, tight little princess…”
As he pulled you down to take more, your hands clutched at his thick biceps, just beneath the golden arm band he wore there. You winced and whined through your teeth, trying to focus on anything but the pain.
“C’mon,” he grunted sharply, “just a little bit– more–!”
He yanked you down again and you cried out. "Ohhh— I can't, I can't!" you shrieked. "You're too big!"
"No, princess, you can take it," he promised with a tense moan through his teeth, pulling you down further as you struggled uselessly against his grip. "You're gonna take my whole dick, no running away now— not when you came here shamelessly begging me to mate you. You're gonna take all this fuckin' dick and you're gonna scream so loud that the whole camp knows you're nothing but an orc's whore."
With one more ruthless thrust he filled you, and you let out a sound you could hardly believe was your own: a broken, pathetic cry of agony. Your whole body quivered, soothed slightly by his fingers tracing down your back.
After a moment, the pain began to fade and the fullness started to comfort you; you sighed slowly and he smiled at you. “See? Knew you could take it. You’ve got all of me inside you now.”
He leaned back in the chair and let go of your hips.
"Go on, lift that ass up," he instructed with a smack to your cheek for emphasis. You found just enough strength on your shaking legs to begin to ride him, still struggling to work through the pain, and making him let out a long, low chuff of a growl. "That's it," he smiled. "That's my little human whore."
You started to pick up the pace a bit when he said that, whimpering more as the sting of the stretch mixed perfectly with the building pleasure of being filled to the brim (and then some).
"Damn, you're too desperate," he groaned. "Look at you bouncing on my lap— what a pretty thing you are…"
His thick fingers trailed over your cheek, down to your chest where he pinched your nipples until you whined loudly. He smirked and grabbed your waist next, dipping his fingers into the curves of your body.
"Such a tiny, delicate little thing. But you're tougher than you look— here you are taking an orc cock like a champ. You're sure you haven't done this before?"
"Not with someone so… big," you moaned.
"Gods, who knew the innocent princess was really such a dirty bitch," he purred, making you whine again just from the degradingly wonderful effect his words had on you.
The thick, spongy head of his cock speared right into your spot– something about being opened up so wide seemed to make everything more sensitive, that must’ve been why your thighs were already shaking from more than just the effort it took to lift yourself on top of him.
“I love when you bite your lip like that,” he admitted; you hadn’t even realized you were doing it, and your hands weakly clutched tighter at his muscular chest. “That pretty little head of yours is empty, isn’t it? And all you can think about is how good I’m fucking you right now. All you can do is wonder why you didn’t start letting orcs fuck your tight body sooner.”
The constant assault of his words in combination with the unignorable feeling inside you made it all so perfectly overwhelming, and you moaned shakily as you started to bounce faster.
“Shit, you’re having way too much fun riding my cock, princess,” he chuckled with another hard spank to your ass that made you whimper pitifully. “You’re supposed to act all innocent and hesitant, like you can’t imagine being claimed so intimately by a filthy, savage beast.”
“Y-you’re not a beast,” you managed to stammer out.
“Yeah? What am I?” he smirked.
“You’re my… my enemy,” you replied, “in war.”
“And I bet that turns you on even more than the fact that I’m not human,” he wagered.
You didn’t really need to tell him he was right, because the fact that you were obviously close to coming was answer enough. “Oh, Bucky, I–”
“I know, little one,” he cooed, “I know, I can feel you about to come– I can feel it in this tiny little cunt. You’re about to come all over my dick.”
“Yes!” you agreed with a deep moan.
He grabbed your hips tightly, to help you ride and to just stabilize himself. “Come for me, human whore,” he demanded in a grunt. “Show me how much you love my cock. Say it.”
“I love your cock,” you panted, “I love your huge orc cock, I– oh gods–”
It was so strong, so sudden, you were afraid to let it take you. “Just let go,” he groaned under his breath, “I’ve got you.”
And that was it. "Oh fuck, fuck, fuck!" you screamed, shaking as a powerful orgasm ripped through your body.
"Gods, that's good," he grunted, fucking up into your body as it went limp on top of him. "I can feel your tiny little pussy coming around me. Oh, princess, are you crying?"
In fact, you were; tears were streaming down your cheeks involuntarily, pleasure so powerful that you just couldn't fight it back.
He grabbed you and began to lift you up and down, bouncing you in his lap, using your body like a toy. "Shit, you ever come that hard before, baby?" he smirked. "Oh, you haven't… you've never felt anything like this before, huh? Never had a strong lover to really take care of you? And you're never gonna want pathetic human cocks again… now you need to be an orc's mate to be satisfied."
He lifted your legs up and nearly bent you in half, forcing you to ride him in this new position that gave him a full view of your pussy being stretched impossibly wide by him. The way he manhandled and manipulated your body however he wanted made your eyes roll back in your head— that, and the way his thick cock stroked your overly-sensitive walls.
“I’m gonna marry you, little princess,” he moaned. “I’m gonna make you my mate, and I’m gonna keep this tiny human cunt of yours stretched out– I’m gonna make it mine so I can use it whenever I want.”
“Oh, gods,” you choked.
“You’re not gonna have time to get tight again, ‘cause I’m gonna fill you with my come every fuckin’ day– hear that, baby? I’m gonna ruin this weak, pathetic body. ‘Cause it’s mine now.”
“Y-yes, yours,” you repeated.
"If you're gonna be my wife then I might as well knock you up now, right?" he grunted. "What's stopping me? I know you won't stop me, you're drooling at the chance to be filled with orc come."
"Come in me, Bucky," you pleaded, proving his point, "f-fuck I wanna be… pregnant…"
"Oh, you want little half-orcs in your tummy?" he laughed. "It might break your tiny body to carry my seed. A fragile human womb is no match for an orcling, especially mine… my whole family is big like me."
"I can take it, I can have your babies, p-please just come inside me," you whined.
"Don't worry, little one, it wouldn't be a proper engagement if I didn't," he grinned, moving your hips faster on top of his lap. "Gods, I don't care if anyone thinks I shouldn't breed a human— I'm the chieftain, after all, I can fuck whoever I want." He started to fuck you faster, rougher, as he continued: "I can marry whoever I want. I can have half-orc babies with whoever I fucking want."
"Hhnng," you choked helplessly, "B-Bucky…"
"Our children might be a little smaller or weaker than if they were full-blooded orcs, but they're gonna be the prettiest creatures anyone ever saw— your cute little human face, your delicate features making them look so soft and sweet… whole tribe's gonna wanna marry our babies, princess," he smiled proudly. "Not just the tribe," he corrected himself, "every orc that ever sees them will be begging us to put bridal braids in their hair."
"Oh, fuck," you groaned as you tossed your head back, overwhelmed by his words. You'd never craved something in such a primal way before, and now you couldn't remember any desire but to be pregnant with Bucky's precious half-orcs.
"Do you feel dirty, princess, being bred by an orc?" he asked roughly, thrusts into you becoming even more erratic. You hoped that meant he was close because your body couldn't take much more.
"No," you shook your head, "no, Bucky, it feels s-so good… breed me, Bucky, Chieftain, wanna be full of your come—"
"Fuck," he hissed through his teeth, "it's coming, girl, I hope you're ready."
"Yes, yes, fuck yes—!" you slurred, eyes shooting wide open when he gave you one massively deep thrust— right into something so deep in you it made your whole body convulse.
Warm, sticky come flooded into your channel… it would've been enough to overflow out of you right away, except that his thick cock kept you plugged up so tight that there was nothing for it to do but make your belly swell.
"Mm, fuck, my little princess," he groaned proudly, voice deeper than ever. "So full of her chieftain's seed she can't even fit it all…"
You thought it might never end— the pulsing of his cock, the swelling of your tummy, the filling of your womb…
You collapsed forward onto his body, eyes fluttering shut as you panted with your cheek pressed against his skin and the sheen of sweat that covered it.
He wrapped his arms around you and in one embrace had enveloped your entire body with his. Eventually his cock began to soften and he carefully lifted you off of it, shushing your whimpers from how it made your cunt sting with soreness. When he finally pulled out all the way you felt an empty numbness, yet soothing relief, and relaxed further into his all-encompassing grip.
"You wanna be my little human wife, princess?" he asked gently. You nodded against his chest, hearing his satisfied hum echo inside it as his thick fingers brushed over your hair so gently. "Mm, you're gonna look pretty with my tribe's braids in your hair, and wearing the beads and robes of the chieftain's wife," he sighed, "not that you're gonna be wearing much of anything for the first few weeks. If an orc can't have his mate bearing children in the first year of marriage, his masculinity might be called into question."
But you couldn't imagine anyone questioning Bucky, with his huge muscles and overbearing frame.
"Of course, it could've already happened now," he remembered with a grin, lifting one of your legs to watch your gaping hole leak out his thick come. "Hmm, you look real pretty with that cunt beat up just right."
"Bucky…" you whimpered pitifully.
"Oh, I'm sure, being an orc's human whore must take a lot out of you," he winked. He picked you up with ease, standing up and carrying you draped in his arms. "I'll take you to my bed, hm? Would you like that?"
You nodded weakly and he continued. What you hadn't realized, though, was that his bed wasn't in this tent, and he was carrying your limp, naked, come-coated form through the camp for the entire war party to see.
At this point, you were too exhausted to protest or even to care. They probably all heard you screaming his name anyways.
Some of them clapped and cheered as they saw Bucky carrying his quarry through the camp; some of them murmured their disappointments that the chieftain would dirty himself with a human plaything.
Finally he brought you through another tent's opening, this one lit dimly inside by only a few candles and adorned with finer rugs than you'd seen since you left the palace, and laid you down in a soft, massive bed of furs.
"Get some rest, little one," he instructed. "You will need to recover as much as you can before the wedding tomorrow."
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The Match - Part 22
Pairing: CEO!Bucky x Fem!Reader
Summary: You meet with Steve and Bucky’s mom.
Word Count: 3.2k
Warnings: Fingering, unprotected p in v penetration, creampie, some things left unsaid LMAO
A/N: Surprise update SKSKSKSKSK
The Match Masterlist || MAIN MASTERLIST
You sleepily hummed into the pillow, trying to ignore the way Bucky pulled your back closer to his bare chest knowing that he was up to no good. His hand on your bare waist lingered for a few moments, stroking your skin with his thumb while pressing kisses against your shoulder blades.
“Too early, Bucky.” you mumbled again, sighing and trying your damn best to fall back asleep.
Bucky pressed a kiss on your ear, nosing your neck before whispering, “Don’t mind me and go back to sleep.” he said.
You fell asleep quickly but only for a couple of minutes because then you felt Bucky’s fingers toy with the hem of your underwear, tracing it oh so lightly as if he was being careful not to wake you up. The moment his hand slipped inside was the same time all your sleep flew right out of the window.
Although you loved your sleep, you couldn’t deny the fact that you loved Bucky’s fingers inside of you even more.
Bucky let out a raspy groan when his digits were welcomed by wetness, your body immediately responding to his ministrations. He teasingly rubbed your folds with his fingers, moving them up and down until he could feel your cunt seep with more of your juices.
“So responsive, baby…” Bucky said, slowly sliding his middle finger into your aching hole.
You mewled and moved your hips, lifting a leg up to give Bucky more access to where you needed him the most. He continued fingering you, gentle and slow at first before finally starting to speed up his pace.
Softly moaning, you reached behind you to palm his hardness through his boxers. Wasting no time, you rushed to slide his boxers down enough to release his throbbing cock. Bucky hissed into your ear when you firmly gripped his shaft, squeezing and causing him to choke on his groans.
“Need to have you now.” Bucky growled and angled his hips, allowing you to easily line up his cock to your weeping pussy.
He slid into you smoothly, your gasp joining his own as the both of you moved. Bucky’s low and raspy morning voice aroused you even more, hearing him grunt right into your ear. The vulgar sound of your wetness squelching around Bucky’s cock filled the air, together with hushed moans and sleepy whispers.
“Fuck, so tight for me.” Bucky said through gritted teeth as he thrusted his hips into you.
Your fingers gripped the pillow as you savored the feeling of Bucky’s cock sliding in and out of your pussy. A hand reached around to grip your neck and jaw, tilting your head back so he can kiss you.
His lips never left yours until you were scratching his thigh behind you, your body shuddering as you reached your climax a few moments before Bucky did. He grunted your name against your mouth, sliding a tongue in as his thrusts slowed down. You could feel his warm release drip out of your cunt when Bucky pulled out. He held his cock and spread his cum all over your pussy using the tip.
“Jesus, Bucky…” you heaved out a deep sigh as you leaned against his chest, your mouth agape as you caught your breath.
Bucky chuckled and kissed the side of your head before getting up, wiping you clean with a towel, “I’ll cook breakfast, come out when you’re ready.” he said.
You looked at him suspiciously, “You cook?” you teased.
Bucky’s head popped by the doorway, “I try my best.” he shrugged.
Closing your eyes, you focused on your breathing and waited until you were able to even it out. You could hear the cupboards open and close a few times, followed by the subtle clanging of what seemed to be metal pans. You stifle your chuckle, picturing Bucky struggling in his own kitchen.
The quick buzz of your phone snapped you out of your trance and upon seeing the message, you were immediately brought back to reality.
Mom wants to talk about the party over lunch. I’ll text you where. See you. 😊
Groaning softly, you placed an arm over your eyes and took some time to think about the situation. Did you even make the right decision to work alongside Steve? You felt like you were overstepping some boundaries by doing so, but on the other hand, you also knew it would mean the world to Bucky to patch things up with his mom.
You were probably pondering for a while now, because Bucky waltzed back into the room with an embarrassed look on his face.
“So, I tried something…” he started, making a face.
You lifted your head up and looked at him with a straight face, “Let me guess, you burnt the food.” you said.
“Maybe?” Bucky shrugged, grinning bashfully at you.
You rolled your eyes as you sat up, “How did you even survive on your own for this long?” you asked, picking up his shirt from the floor and putting it on.
“Like I said, I try my best…doesn’t mean I’m always successful when I do so.” he said and trailed behind you as you walked into the kitchen to find a bunch of burnt pancakes.
You couldn’t help but laugh at the situation, beckoning for Bucky to watch you as you taught him the basics of making simple breakfast.
“I’m meeting with a friend for lunch.” you blurted out, flipping the last pancake and pressing down on it.
Bucky hummed, “What time will you be home?” he asked.
“Late afternoon, maybe?” you responded, biting your lower lip as you gathered the courage to tell him about your side hustle.
Keeping your gaze on the pancake, you cleared your throat and spoke up, “I’m helping him organize a party. It’s sort of a freelance work.” you explained briefly.
Bucky merely nodded, placing a hand on the small of your back as he leaned to press a quick kiss on your cheek, “That’s good.” he said.
“You can come…” you said, taking in a deep breath. “I mean, it’s the first time I’ll be organizing an event outside of my job so I think it would be nice…if you could…”
Bucky softly chuckled, “Of course, I’d love to. I’ll be there.” he quickly said.
You looked at him and felt your stomach sink, knowing that you were lying to him. He smiled at you and tucked a stray strand of your hair behind your ear, “Thank you for wanting to share your work with me.” he said. “I appreciate it.” he added.
You pursed your lips and looked away, nodding and forcing a smile as you placed the last pancake on the plate.
The entire drive to the restaurant made you feel queasy. Not only was this officially your first day of working with Steve, but you were also going to be meeting Bucky’s mom. You couldn’t understand why you were doubting yourself about your recent decisions and for the first time in a long time, you actually didn’t know what to do.
Steve’s car was already parked outside when you arrived which made you want to throw up and then run away. After taking a couple of deep breaths, you braced yourself and stepped out of your car.
Your palms were cold when you entered the restaurant, quickly spotting Steve and waving at him when his eyes found you. Sitting in front of him with her back turned to you was obviously their mom and when she turned to look, you were captured by how much Bucky resembled her.
Both of them stood up when you reached their table, with Steve introducing you as the event organizer that he had hired. You extended an arm for a handshake and anxiously waited for their mom to accept it.
“It’s lovely to meet you, Mrs. Rogers.” you said.
She was quick to accept the handshake and offered you a beautiful smile, “Please, just call me Winnifred. Thank you so much for meeting with us at such short notice.” she said and invited everyone to sit.
You sat next to Steve and gave him a knowing look to which he responded with a reassuring and grateful smile.
As soon as everyone placed their orders, Steve started the conversation by telling you what he had in mind for Winnifred’s birthday party. He kept on mentioning about his dad’s excitement for the party and how he often reminded Steve to make sure that it’s going to be a lovely one.
Just by that conversation alone, it was so easy to understand why Winnifred chose to be with someone else instead of staying with George. It was clear that Joseph truly loves Winnifred and that he was a family man who made sure to take good care of his son and wife.
“I know it sounds a bit overwhelming, but you can choose to ignore their reminders because I personally want to keep things very simple.” Winnifred laughed.
Steve groaned, “Mom, dad wants it to be a big one. Simple, but big. You know him.” he said.
“I do know him, which is why I also know that he’ll be fine with something simple as long as I’m happy.” she explained before turning to you.
“What do you have in mind?” she asked.
Slightly taken aback, you glanced over at Steve nervously before quickly thinking of something. Bucky’s only talked about Winnifred once or twice, never in detail but with how he described her, you sort of figured that she wouldn’t want something so grand for her birthday.
“Maybe a cocktail party? It’s nothing too big and it isn’t just dinner, you know? Keep the guest list intimate— just the closest family and friends. I think Winnifred would enjoy it if she could actually mingle and catch up with some people rather than just walk around and greet hundreds of people the entire night.” you suggested nervously.
Winnifred looked at you with amusement before turning to Steve with a teasing smile, “See, Steve? She gets me.” she said before looking back at you, “Men, am I right? They always seem to think that the bigger the gesture, the better.” she quipped.
You were unable to hold back your laughter, “Tell me about it.” you said, realizing that you got carried away and became a little too comfortable talking to Winnifred.
However, your statement only seemed to pique her interest. You weren’t sure whether that was a good thing or a bad thing considering that you were lying to her as well.
“A cocktail party sounds great. Perhaps holding it at home would be enough?” Winnifred asked.
Steve cleared his throat and immediately turned down the idea. If you were going to lure Bucky to the party, he would easily find out about it given the location.
“A nice restaurant would do the trick.” you interjected, “I know some places with private function halls that we can reserve for the party.”
“Yeah, that sounds better.” Steve said in a desperate attempt to convince Winnifred to hold the party somewhere else.
Fortunately, Winnifred agreed and didn’t insist anymore. The rest of the meeting went by seamlessly and thank the heavens that she did not ask about your work experience because you didn’t prepare an answer for that. In the middle of concluding the meeting, Steve received a work call and excused himself, leaving you with Winnifred.
“I can’t thank you enough for your help. Initially, Joseph wanted Steve to be the one to be in charge of the party and knowing those two boys, I was just not confident.” she laughed.
“They seem to be more excited for the party than you.” you commented.
Winnifred nodded, “As much as it annoys me, I am very lucky to have them.” she admitted and for a moment, your heart broke for Bucky.
There was silence for a brief moment before Winnifred started talking again, “Are you in a relationship?” she asked.
Your eyes widened but you were quick to recover, “Oh um, yeah. It’s a bit…well, yeah.” you chuckled nervously.
Winnifred smiled at you, “Commitment can be scary, isn’t it?” she asked to which you slowly nodded.
“It’s very much like choosing a career. You want to choose the best one and there’s no way to find out whether it’s something you’ll love but to accept it, not really knowing how things might turn out. Sometimes it’s good at first and eventually you realize that it may not be for you. Quitting can be just as scary. So many things to consider, so many consequences to face.” she continued to explain.
“How do you know when to quit?” you suddenly asked.
Winnifred sighs, “You just…you just know.” she said. “Joseph isn’t my first husband and Steve is actually a step-son.” she admitted and your breath hitched.
“I married my first husband thinking that it was for the best. We had a son and things were wonderful in the beginning. Just like any husband and wife, we had a lot of disagreements and fights. Things became too much and I realized that this marriage was founded on nothing but a wrong assumption. I thought it was for the best, but was it the right thing to do?” she said and shook her head, “It wasn’t. I always regretted that marriage but it was that same marriage that gave me my happiness, my son.” she said with a sad smile.
You wanted to ask her about Bucky but didn’t want to pry, so you kept silent and waited whether Winnifred was comfortable enough to divulge more.
“I miss that boy everyday. I know I wasn’t the best mother to him and I have a lot to make it up for.” she said.
“Do you…do you still talk to him?” you carefully asked.
Winnifred took a deep breath and straightened up, “Not anymore. We used to meet but there are so many things left unsaid and neither of us want to speak up. I know I should be the first person to do so but I always felt ashamed because who am I to demand some explanation when I was barely in his life?” she chuckled, bitterness laced in her tone.
Unconsciously, you placed your hand
on top of hers, “I’m sure he will understand.” you said with a smile.
You could see Winnifred’s eyes glisten with tears but she was pretty good at holding them back. Although you were still clueless as to what truly happened between her and Bucky, it was easy to figure out that she too, wanted to fix things.
“Oh god, I’m sorry, sweetie. I got a little too personal and started blabbering, didn’t I?” she laughed.
“I meant to tell you that although relationships can be scary, when you find the right one, it’ll be so much easier to face that fear.” she explained with a nod.
“My marriage with Steve’s father hasn’t always been an easy road. We had a lot of arguments too and disagreed on a lot of things. But if there are two things that made this marriage work, it’s trust and honesty.” she said.
You bit the insides of your cheek, “How did you know that Steve’s father was the right one?” you asked again.
Winnifred beamed, “I didn’t know he was the right one until I decided for it to be him.”
Her response left you confused, something that she caught on judging by how your forehead creased.
“We get to choose the person we want to be right for us. And they are not going to be perfect and they will get to our nerves more often than not. They will make mistakes, they will hurt us and we will hurt them back. But it’s when both of you strive to make things work, when the other person does their best to become better for you, ask yourself a question. ‘Am I willing to become better for him, too?’ That is when you decide whether you want that person to be the right one for you and you, the right one for him. It takes trust and honesty from both ends to do so, is what I’m saying.”
This time, it was Winnifred’s hand who reached for yours. She looked at you affectionately and asked you a question.
“Do you want that person to be the right one for you?”
You haven’t even made it to your car yet when you called Bucky in a rush, only to be redirected to his voicemail. As soon as you got into your car, you hurriedly drove back to Bucky’s place while still attempting to call him.
Winnifred’s question rang in your ears over and over again, as well as her views on finding the right person. It was that conversation with her that gave you clarity— you couldn’t lie to Bucky. As much as you wanted to help him and Winnifred, this wasn’t the right way to do so. You were basically going behind his back with his step-brother whom he hated; as to why you did not realize that sooner, you honestly didn’t know but you hated yourself for it.
“Hey, I’m on my way home. I need to talk to you, call me back when you get this message?” you said and ended the call.
You were a few blocks away from Bucky’s place when he finally returned the call.
“Hi, baby. I’m sorry for calling back just now. Something came up, the factory encountered some issues and I need to fly to LA right now.”
“What? You’re going to LA? Like now?” you panicked.
“Yeah I’m at the airport, I’m sorry for not telling you but I was on the phone the entire time and I needed to book the earliest flight. Are you mad?”
Bucky…doesn’t have a private plane? You knew it wasn’t the right time to think about that so you pushed it to the back of your brain and made a mental note to ask him about it soon. But seriously? He still books flights? He probably flies first class anyway.
“Fuck, you’re mad.”
The panic in Bucky’s voice snapped you out of your wandering thoughts.
“No, I’m not mad,” you reassured him. “I just really need to talk to you, it’s very important.” you said breathlessly.
“I’ll call you as soon as I can. Baby, I gotta go. You can message it to me, okay? I’ll see you soon. I love you.”
You sighed, “Yeah, okay. I’ll wait for your call, I love you too.”
“Did you just—”
“Excuse me sir, kindly end the call as we will be taking off now.”
“Shit, fuck. Okay, one sec—”
“Sir, I’m sorry but you need to end the call.”
“It’s okay, Bucky. We’ll talk soon. Bye.” you said and ended the call first, gripping the steering wheel tighter than before.
Your heart pounded heavily against your ribcage as you pulled your car aside, needing to take a moment about what just happened.
Placing a hand over your heart, you realized that you needed to talk to Bucky about his mom and your relationship with him now that you just said the L word back.
And truth to be told, you didn’t know which conversation was going to be more difficult given your current situation.
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Delicate Edges (Epilogue)
series summary: Trapped under a mountain of debt to the Hydra club, it is only in moments when Bucky walks into your flower shop that you forget the cruelty of the biker clubs of this town. But a war is brewing. And Bucky will stop at nothing to keep you safe. (Biker!AU)
pairing: Bucky x reader
chapter word count: 4.7k
chapter warnings: the fluff you so rightfully deserve, the end of the series
series masterlist / series playlist
The bell at the front of your shop sang in time with the tambourine in Simon & Garfunkel's Cecilia. A revolving door of customers, laughter filling the small room as fingertips brushed against petals and admired the stunning display of colors brightening the walls. A toddler rushed around the feet of the guests, running after a fallen leaf that caught onto the gust of wind from the open door. He chased it with the contagious swell of childhood laughter until smiles broke out on every face in the shop.
Ever since Loki took over the Hydra club, the predominate fear that had taken hold of the town had subsided. He forgave the debts of those made under Pierce’s authority and cut back the interest rates for ones made through Rumlow, actually giving folks a chance to climb out of the hole they’d been forced to dig with a skull and tentacled shovel.
The size of the town seemed to double overnight – drawing in new faces to your shop and leaving the sidewalks busy with foot traffic. Whether it was people from the east who had found the courage to cross the border again or if those in the west were finally able to leave their homes without the fear of running into the Hydra club, you supposed it didn’t matter.
The town was healing. Rumlow was dead. Dot skipped town. And Rollins was charged with the murder of his former boss – a rather cunning move on Loki’s part to successfully rid himself of Rollins and escape jailtime himself. The rest of the Hydra club fell in line behind their new leader. Perhaps, because he offered a level of respect Rumlow had never freely given. Loyalty, as it turned out, did not have to be won purely on intimidation and violence alone. Loki found a way to earn it through compromise and the iron clad strength of his word.
The truce between the Hydra club and the 107 gave this town back what it had lost over the decades – it’s humanity.
You’d forgotten what it felt like to feel the rush of anticipation in your veins when you opened shop in the morning and turned on the lights. How sweet the flowers smelled when they were freshly cut and the glowing smile upon customers’ faces when you presented them with their bouquets, always brighter and lovelier than they’d imagined.
It was a dream you never wanted to wake up from. A world you never believed possible just a few months ago. And now—here it was. Real. Tangible. Wonderful.
Ms. Leary placed her usual Tuesday order on the counter, patting the stems lightly with a strange sort of pride upon her features. Her smile was tight, pressed high, and she slid the cash across the table without waiting for the total.
“I like this look on you, deary,” she said cheekily. Today, she wore a softer shade of pink drawn over her lips. It matched the blush upon her cheekbones. She turned a trembling hand as you placed her change into her palm.
“I’m not sure I know what you mean,” you replied, though you could feel the subtle ache in your face – the prolonged exposure of a smile you hadn’t been able to wipe for the last two weeks. You couldn’t have suppressed it if you had tried.
“I’m just glad to see you followed my advice.” She raised a thinning brow at you, lips puckered.
Then, as if on cue, Bucky strolled through the front door. The bell chimed over his head and he glanced up at it; hands tucked tight into his pockets to make himself as small as possible in order to weave through the crowd. The moment his eyes caught yours, something in his body melted – his shoulders giving way to the tension, his breath falling easy in his chest. Pure relief.
Ms. Leary turned back to you, a prideful look upon her features as she grinned. You sighed, biting at your lip because the damn smile only grew the longer Bucky looked at you. He stepped forward, giving a polite smile to Ms. Leary, before he pulled his hand from his pocket. Nestled between his fingers was a disfigured dandelion he must have picked from between the sidewalk cracks outside your shop.
You took it from his hands, allowing your fingertips to linger just a moment longer against his before you tucked the stem of the flower behind your ear. Bucky exhaled, his hand landing against his heart.
“Beautiful,” he sighed, swooning like the actors in your mom’s old movie collection. He winked at Ms. Leary and it only seemed to drive her point further. She gathered her bouquet in her arms, promising to tell her husband all about the new developments on her way out the door. You only laughed when Bucky asked you what she meant.
“Give me a few minutes?” you asked, gesturing to the line that had formed by the register. It had been busy like this since the day you reopened the shop. It was like something sparked inside of you again – the fear slipped like water through your hands, the sun warm against your skin. The endless pit in your stomach making way for the swarm of butterflies Bucky had left in its place.
“Take your time, honey,” Bucky grinned, propping himself up against the desk at the back of the shop. His arms folded over his chest, a proud look upon his face as he watched you.
You tried to shake off his stare as you returned to the customers, happily tying ribbons around the bouquets and filling the register higher than it had been in years, but something about the way Bucky watched you left you feeling warm inside. Safe. His gaze was always welcomed – encouraged, even.
It did not slip your notice when several of your customers glanced in his direction, how some smiled at him or offered a shy wave of their hand. They recognized him from around town, many knew his name and the reputation that had marked him as a villain.
But they had listened to the rumors once before, and they listened again when the story began to change. They listened as word spread of the man who donned the mask of the vicious leader of the 107 and sacrificed his heart to protect what little of the town he could, who carried the weight of the world on his shoulders and only ever wanted to keep his family safe. This wonderful, kind man who was not the monster they believed him to be, but the one who slayed the demon who had ruled the west.
They began to recognize him for what he was – a hero.
After the last customer left the shop and the bell chimed over their heads, Bucky swooped in and caged his arms around your waist. He spun you toward him – wasting not a single second as his lips captured yours. Grinning so widely you could taste the laughter on his breath.
Between kisses, he said, “I’ve got something for you.”
You pulled back, intrigued. “Another dandelion from the sidewalk?”
Bucky frowned, pouting rather dramatically as you teased him. The line of a healing scar on his cheek pinched in the effort and you delicately reached up and ran your thumb sweetly against it until he relaxed.
“You’ll have to wait and see, doll,” Bucky replied, being withholding on purpose for making fun of his dandelion. It still nestled behind your ear as he drew a line along your face.
Then, he took you buy the hand and let you through the front of your shop. You locked the door behind you, taking a moment to admire the displays of flowers in the windows – arrangements your parents would have been proud of, filled with the colors that reminded you of them the most. Your mother’s blue dresses and the faded embroidery on her apron. Your father’s gold watch and the various shades of red and white plaid shirts he wore until the fabric was torn and frayed.
The keychain Bucky gave you the night you met swung in your grip before you tucked it into your bag. You found Bucky waiting for you on the sidewalk, leaning against his bike. You stilled, eyes narrowing.
“You got me... a ride on your bike?”
Bucky laughed, full bellied. “No. Your present’s back at the Centenarian. But I was thinking I’d drive you this time.”
He patted the seat and that was when you noticed the second helmet hanging off the handlebars. You wondered how long ago he must have gotten that because your initials were engraved into the nape, the same way Bucky’s were on his. He swung a leg over the body of the bike, gesturing for you to follow.
Nervously, you brushed your hands down the front of your jeans, thankful that you’d elected not to go with one of the many dresses in your closet. You set your hands on Bucky’s shoulders, using him to steady you as you climbed on behind him. He gave you a moment to get used to the feel of it, allowing your hands to slide around his waist, your chest pressed tightly to his back.
“How’s it feel?”
“We’re still parked, so it’s not so bad,” you replied, hearing the nerves in your voice. Bucky covered your hands with his own, leaning back over his shoulder to kiss the crown of your head.
“You’ll be just fine, honey. I’ll go slow for you.”
Bucky laughed as he passed you the helmet. Before you could slide it over your head, you caught glimpse of a figure standing across the street – watching you. You stilled as the pristinely tailored suit and expensive black shoes stepped into the sunlight. Loki gave a short nod in your direction, lifting his hand in recognition and he was—waving?
Bucky raised his hand in return, confused and hesitant in his movements, but it seemed to be enough for the new Hydra leader because he gave a thin smile and turned back to his walk. If the pedestrians knew who he was, they didn’t react to his presence as he strolled through the town. Some parted for him, scurrying quickly to the edges, while others have him a stiff, though welcoming smile.
Bucky let out a tense breath, shaking his head. “I will never get used to that.”
You agreed and then swiftly pulled the helmet on and adjusted the straps. Bucky did the same, and soon, the bike was roaring to life under you. You could feel the vibration settling into your body, the warmth of the metal and leather. You could barely hear yourself think, but you could feel the strength of Bucky’s body pressed against yours. Your arms caged around his waist – perhaps a little too tight, though he didn’t object.
He turned out onto the street and you held onto him as if he’d raced 80mph down the highway. You could only vaguely hear him chuckling to himself as he picked up speed, though not enough to rattle you, as he crossed through town.
The border didn’t exist anymore – the red X scrubbed off the sidewalk only days after Bucky and Loki’s deal – but it was a challenge to remind yourself that things had changed. You’d practically grown up under the rule of Hydra; first with Pierce, then Rumlow. Rewiring your brain to see Loki as an ally, to know that you could sleep soundly on the first Tuesdays of the month, to be able to love Bucky in the light of day and not worry for the enemies lurking over his shoulder, was more challenging than you anticipated.
The bike pulled to a slow stop at the one red light in town. The engine purred under you as you relaxed your grip around Bucky’s waist. He whined and tugged your arms around him again before you could let go. Laughter came easily to you these days. The light turned green and you clung onto him again. You could hear him chuckling to himself even over the rush of the wind.
When Bucky pulled up to the Centenarian, your hands were locked against him. He shifted the bike into park and turned off the engine, removing his helmet. His hands gently coaxed over yours, easing the tension out of your fingers until you unlatched him. When he pulled away your helmet, he was smiling wide enough to brighten the blues in his eyes. Perfect, wonderful blue eyes.
“You’ll get used to the ride,” Bucky teased, setting down your helmet as he offered you a hand to help ease you off the bike. You weren’t so convinced, but you supposed that as long as it was Bucky you were holding onto, you’d survive just about anything.
“Hey Mr. Barnes!” a voice called from the open green next to the bar. A kid, no older than thirteen jogged after a soccer ball that had rolled its way off the field. It came to a stop under Bucky’s boot. The kid paused, waiting, and spared a short glance over his shoulder to his friends watching in the distance.
Bucky leaned over slowly and picked up the ball. He tossed it once in the air, as if to test its weight, and threw it back to the kid. The boy lit up as he slowed the momentum of the ball by allowing it to hit his chest and drop to the ground. He kicked it back to his friends who quickly jumped back into the heart of their match. The kid lingered a little longer and dipped his head at Bucky – a silent acknowledgement, a quiet ‘thank you.’
You were grinning at Bucky when he turned back to you, his hand extended in your direction.
“What?” he chuckled, though pink warmed his cheeks.
“Nothing,” you said with a shrug, though your inability to stop your smile from aching on your cheeks spoke otherwise. For the town to start seeing Bucky as the good man you knew he was – it was not something you could easily bring to words. The same children who had once run away in fear now waved to him from the sidewalk. It removed years of weight from Bucky’s shoulders.
Hand in his, Bucky led you along the sidewalk to the Centenarian. You took your time as you walked, savoring these last few moments where Bucky was entirely yours. Slowly, he pulled your joined hands to his lips and sweetly kissed at each of the knuckles. His own were scabbed over and healing from the night everything had changed and still, you tugged his hand to your mouth and mimicked the same kisses. Bucky watched you with a sort of awe on his features you weren’t sure you’d ever get used to.
Through the open windows of the bar, Dolly Parton’s 9 to 5 carried out through the jukebox – not doubt at Barton’s doing. You wondered briefly if Tony had given him a hard time about it, given his history of revoked jukebox privileges, but decided quickly that no one in good conscious could ever turn down a Ms. Parton classic.
Though a smile etched on your lips, you could still feel the gnawing twist of anticipation the closer Bucky led you to the door. It wasn’t that you hadn’t been back since the night Rumlow and Hydra swarmed the bar and beat Bucky to a pulp – because you had. You'd seen the faint droplets of blood on the wooden surfaces the cleaning products could not absorb – tiny speckles of red splattered as they flew from Bucky’s broken lip on the knuckles of vile men. Less noticeable than the stain from where he’d recovered from the knife wound before he met you, but still – your eyes were drawn to it. Capturing you. Paralyzing you.
Bucky had kept himself within your reach the entire time, his touch lingering against you in one way or another. His contact didn’t waiver – constant reminders that he was there with you now and the memories threatening to drag you under could not take hold as long as he held you.
The longer you stayed in the bar that first night back – caught up in the strums of Fleetwood Mac on the jukebox and the laughter carrying from the chosen family circled around the bar – the looser the knot in your chest came undone. Reminders that good had happened within these walls more than the darkest of horrors you’d faced. And if Bucky could stand by your side, only feet away from the evidence of the violence done to him and still have the capacity to laugh and smile and feel something other than crushing fear – so could you.
Bucky slowed his pace for you as he approached the doors, his perceptive nature catching onto your long, drawn in breaths as you readied yourself. You would learn to find comfort in this place again. With so much joy bursting through the windows as the chorus of 9 to 5 carried on the off-key pitches of the semi-inebriated voices inside, you gathered the strength to open the door yourself.
Your name was called in every direction as you stepped inside, a rush of relief into your bones. Bucky squeezed your hand, giving you a wink as if to say, ‘See? I knew you’d be just fine, doll.’
Peter was waving at you from across the bar, several french fries in his hand as he attempted to follow the lyrics to the song on his phone at Stark and Barton’s rather aggressive demand. The two of them were arm in arm, beers sloshing over their hands as they sang loudly by the jukebox.
Natasha, Sam, and Steve were all sitting at the bar. They raised their drinks as you looked to them with what you could only describe as pride upon their faces – bright smiles in line with the fresh bouquets adorning the ends of the bar.
But it was the older woman with the bright red bandana pulled around her hair that stole your attention. She crossed the room with her arms stretched out, a motherly glow about her features as she swooped Bucky into her arms. You laughed as Bucky exhaled a surprised grunt and you released his hand. You stepped back, grinning as he struggled to break free from her hold.
“Good to see you in one piece again, sweetheart,” Mrs. Marcovaldo grinned, the thick Italian accent rolling over every word. When she finally let him go, a frown quickly pressed at her lips and she swatted the back of his head. “Now introduce me to this lovely young lady properly.”
Bucky rolled his eyes, though he was fighting his smile. “This is Y/n. She’s--”
"The beautiful florist from across the border who capture our sweet boy’s heart!” Mrs. Marcovaldo finished, her arms already opening for you. You glanced at Bucky and he gave a short nod of encouragement. There wasn’t much saying no to this woman, you supposed, but maybe there was something about her motherly charm that pulled at every heart string you head. When her arms closed around you, you melted against her. She seemed to sense the loss you felt – the emptiness of being without your parents for so long – and her hand rubbed gentle circles on your back.
“Anytime you need a hug, you come find me,” Mrs. Marcovaldo soothed and you found yourself hugging her a little tighter. When she finally let her arms fall from around your sides, she reached out and pinched Bucky on the arm. “Don’t go hiding this one away again!”
“Eesh! All right, woman!” Bucky shooed her hand away when she tried to pinch him again.
Between their familiar bickering, you caught sight of a mop of bleach blonde hair swerving through the crowd. He settled at a table near the corner and beside him, holding a mug looked to be brought from her own café, was Wanda Maximoff. Your lips parted, staring at the twins, before you quietly excused yourself from Bucky and Mrs. Marcovaldo's teasing arguments.
Wanda grinned as you sank breathlessly into the seat beside her. Pietro was too busy swooning over Natasha, his stare painfully obvious as he propped his chin up on his hand, hearts filled into his eyes. Wanda scoffed, waving him off.
“What are you doing here?” you asked giddily, barely able to contain the smile spreading higher on your face.
“Bucky invited us,” Wanda replied rather casually for the noticeable excitement tapping on her fingers. She glanced around the room at the people she once believed to be part of a notorious biker gang. “It’s exciting, isn’t? It’s still hard to wrap my head around. Feels like we’re doing something dangerous.”
There was a glimmer of excitement in her eyes as she tapped her nails against her coffee cup.
“You know they were never what the rumors made them out to be,” you reminded her with a teasing smile. Wanda nodded and still – her knee bounced under the table as she drew her bottom lip between her teeth. Poorly suppressing a smile as she watched Sam and Natasha bickering at the bar.
“You seem so happy,” she said with nothing more than pride and relief in her voice. Wanda set a hand along your forearm and squeezed. “I’m glad you found them. They’re like family to you, aren’t they? I can tell how much they love you. They... they seem like good people.”
“You know you were my family first, Wanda,” you told her. “You still are.”
She nodded, that soft smile still lingering on her face. “I suppose we have in-laws now, don’t we?”
When you laughed, it ached in your stomach. Only when it subsided, were you able to throw your arms around Wanda’s shoulders and hug her. There wasn’t enough appreciation in the world to convey to her how much she meant to you, that she was your rock for years before you ever met Bucky or his wayward family. But she understood. And she hugged you back a little tighter.
“Hey,” Pietro said, nudging your arm, oblivious to the heartfelt conversation between you and his sister. “What’s the redhead’s deal?”
“Oh, I’d stay far away from Natasha if you value your pride,” Bucky chuckled as he came up from behind, setting a comforting hand on Pietro’s shoulder. Pietro frowned, and returned to his rather obvious staring.
“Mind if I steal Y/n back?” Bucky asked, his attention turned back to Wanda.
Wanda could hardly hold back the smirk up her lips as she shook her head.
“Come on, doll,” Bucky leaned into your ear, “still got something special for you.”
You raised an eyebrow, cheeks flushing warm as he led you to the back office. You glanced around at the amount of people in the bar – friends, some Bucky considered his actual family. The walls were too thin for that and you knew the lock on the door was meaningless when so many held the keys. Still – something skipped in your chest at the thought. You smothered it down.
“Not here,” you warned, brushing your palms against your jeans, and Bucky shared a confused look with you for a moment before he burst into laughter.
“Oh honey, it’s not that,” he laughed, wiping tears from his eyes. “Although, I’m curious now that you mention it.”
“Okay, okay!” Bucky grinned as closed the door behind you, offering you the chair behind the desk. “Give me one second.”
You sank into the leather chair, steadying yourself on the unbalanced wheel with two hands upon the desk. Bucky scrambled around the room, opening drawers and filing cabinets in search of something. When he finally found what he was looking for Bohemian Rhapsody had slithered its way through the cracks of the door and the entire bar was singing in unison. Bucky looked down at the small, black box in his hands – about the size of a closed fist – before he extended it to you.
“What is it?” you asked, staring down at the box and the golden ribbon bowed at the center.
You rolled your eyes playfully and did as he asked. The ribbon pulled easily from the bow, allowing the golden rope to slide from the box. You stole one last look up at Bucky, his hands wringing in his grasp, and then – you lifted the top of the box.
Inside, was your father’s gold watch.
Your eyes darted back up to Bucky, stunned. He gave you a nervous smile in return. The lid fell from your weakened fingertips, pulse skyrocketing at the sight of the watch pieced back together, it’s memory of Rumlow’s heel shattering the glass and fracturing the links clawing at the back of your mind. You ran your fingers over the glass.
“How?” you gasped.
“It's not all original,” Bucky explained slowly. “The glass on the face is new and there’s a few bolts that had to be replaced, but I tried to keep it as your father left it. All the scratches on the links should still be there. And the hands don’t move. They reset it to 4:08 like he had it. I tried to keep it as close as I could.”
You pulled the watch from the case, hands shaking as tears swelled in your eyes. Sure enough, there was still speckles of soil tucked between some of the gears on the face of the watch, scratches on the gold links from where your father had constantly bumped his wrist on the table with mumbled curse words you mother often scolded him for. Locked on 4:08 because your father never took it to the shop for a new battery before he died.
“I know it’s not the same,” Bucky continued, the nerves in his voice worsening the longer you sat in silence together. “If it’s too much, just say the word and I’ll take it back, honey. I just thought... maybe...”
You set the watch on the table, crossed the room to Bucky, and with more determination than you’d felt in years, set your hand against the back of his head and brought his mouth to you. Words died on his lips as they fell between yours, his body sinking into you as his hands looped at your waist. Tears slid against your cheeks as you kissed him – a rush of pure, unbridled happiness unlike you'd ever felt. Words could not simply do it justice.
When you finally pulled back, breathless, Bucky chuckled, “so I did good?”
You laughed, throwing your head back as Bucky picked up the watch from the table. He unclasped the link and slid it around your wrist. Once it hung loose against your arm once again, you set your hands against his cheeks.
“I love you,” you said. The heaviest words you’d ever spoken and yet, when you said them to Bucky, they were light as air.
Relief peppered on his face, coaxing through the worry lines on his forehead. When he smiled, you felt the shift in his features under your palms – tangible proof of his unbridled affection. He turned his head, shifting only enough to press his lips to the inside of your hand.
“I love you, too,” Bucky exhaled, an aching sigh from his lips.
This wonderful, brave man who selflessly cast himself to the shadows, who dared to take your hand as you both stepped back into the comfort of the morning light. This blue-eyed man who saved you in more ways than you could possibly count – an impossible debt that held no burden, no interest; one that was made entirely of devotion, one that was never expected to be returned.
But it was. And it had been.
Because for every day Bucky was able to hold you in his arms, a piece of his soul was saved, too. Drawn back from the darkness he made of himself to protect the town he loved. Given new life in the hands of the woman he loved. Smoothing his rough and jagged edges with feather light grace, with delicate kindness.
His florist in the west.
Your biker in the east.
Thank you so much for reading! ❤️ If you enjoyed this series, please consider supporting me at my ko-fi account ✨
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Now It’s You Keeping Me Up
Neighbour!Bucky Barnes x Reader
< < PART 2 | Series Masterlist
Summary: Your attractive neighbour can’t sleep when your ex-boyfriend shows up.
Request: @samantha-lefay wanted more neighbour!bucky, so they’re getting more
Warnings: TRIGGER WARNING for past manipulative relationships, violence (someone gets punched, reader gets grabbed on the arm), shitty ex-boyfriend John Walker, mentions of cheating, swearing/rude language, mentions of sex
Word Count: 1.5k
Masterlist | Ask me anything! | Taglist
Bucky hadn’t felt more rested in his entire life than the week after you first cuddled up in bed with him.
He tried to convince himself that it was the endorphins released in his brain, relaxing him upon human touch - which was probably partly true, but not the entire truth.
If he was being completely honest, his cute neighbour who was willing to listen to 40’s music (even though he was positive you hated it) solely for him, who was gentle and patient, not needing to know the reason for his nightmares to insist that he not sleep alone, who had enough fire in her to stand up to him and remind him to take care of himself everyday, but who was also tender and forgiving when she saw he hadn’t, had everything to do with his new found sleeping habits.
You were the reason he was so well rested.
Every night you climbed into his bed, arm pulling him as close as possible, your soft skin pressed against his, the smell of you now infused in his sheets. You hummed Jimmy Dorsey music, which you had come to know by heart, in his ear as he closed his eyes. Occasionally there was a tune he didn’t know, and he suspected it was newer music which you seemed to have a preference for, but the tune itself wasn’t what calmed him, it was that you were the one singing it.
Besides the Sunday you first snuggled him to sleep, where he made you promise not to leave, there hadn’t been an explicit arrangement established between the two of you - you simply showed up at his door every night that week after you got home from work. He hadn’t asked you to, but you did it anyway.
In exchange for your generosity, he made sure to have food ready for when you walked into his apartment. Bucky wasn’t much of a chef, but he knew enough (and had access to an abundance of online recipes) to put together some rather tasty, if basic, meals.
This continued the whole week - dinner, watching movies, playing board games, which was always followed by nestling up beside each other on his bed.
One night, Bucky had been too tired to do anything other than lay down and listen to the sound of your voice, so you read to him. Your voice was so soothing, he passed out while still on the couch, cuddling up to your side. When he woke the next morning you were asleep beside him, hands cradling his head, book fanned out on your chest.
He couldn’t remember a time since before the war where he fell asleep with such ease, as if he hadn’t a care in the world. And he didn’t, he realised - when he was with you, looking into those stunning eyes, smiling inwardly at how your nose crinkled whenever you laughed, all his problems melted away.
But this Saturday night, as minutes torturously turned into hours and when the clock struck midnight, Bucky feared you weren’t coming home.
He couldn’t be mad at you - you had your own life to lead, family you would surely want to visit, friends to spend time with. So many other people in your life that weren’t him.
Just because his existence now revolved around seeing you every night, didn’t mean your life did.
He instinctively reached for his dog tags as his heart rate elevated and he bit down on his bottom lip to stop it trembling at the thought of getting through the night without you. It had only been one week, but it was long enough for him to become dependent on you. Reliant on your presence, your touch, to soothe him to a peaceful sleep.
As Bucky closed his eyes, trying to calm himself down, feeling the cool metal of his tags in the palm of his flesh hand, he heard the distinct jingle of your keys in your lock - the blissful sound he impatiently waited for every night that signaled you had come home and would show up at his door as soon as you changed into comfier clothes.
But tonight there was something different, something that made his heart sink through the floor and his stomach clench with jealousy.
You weren’t alone.
“John, we broke up more than two months ago, you can’t just show up here.” Your voice was loud and agitated, but something that resembled relief filled Bucky’s chest - this wasn’t a flirty conversation with someone who might be replacing his spot beside you in bed.
When did he become so possessive of you?
“You weren’t returning any of my calls! What other choice did I have?” A deep, yet slightly scratchy male voice responded. Not that Bucky was eavesdropping - the walls were just very thin. The tone of the man's voice, the way he snapped at you, Bucky took an immediate dislike to him.
“You know there is a damn good reason why I wasn’t picking up your calls - the same fucking reason why I broke up with you in the first place.” He knew he shouldn’t be privy to such a private conversation between ex-partners, but if something happened, he needed to make sure you were safe. There was a quality to this man that sent a shiver down his spine, even from an apartment away.
“It was a one time thing. Why do you have to be such a prude about it?” The more that came out of this guy's mouth, the more Bucky wanted to strangle him.
“You cheated on me! How would you have felt if I had some other guys dick inside me?” You yelled. In response to this, as if moving of their own volition, Bucky’s feet carried him outside his apartment so he was now staring at the bronze plated ‘4b’ on your front door.
“That’s completely different!”
“No it’s not, now get the fuck out of my place before I call the cops.” Bucky’s hand hovered over your door handle, debating whether or not to step inside. You were more than capable of handling things by yourself, but that didn’t mean you should have to.
“Don’t be such a bitter bitch!”
“Get off me!” Those three words were all Bucky needed to hear to storm your apartment. No one touched you without your permission.
The sight inside made his blood boil. The man named John was slightly shorter than him with broad shoulders, dirty blonde hair, and just about the most punchable face Bucky had ever come across. And he currently had a tight hold on your forearm that would most likely leave a bruise.
“Get your hands off her.” Bucky almost didn’t recognise his own voice, deep and threatening.
“This who you’re spreading your legs for now, is it?” You suppressed a whimper as John’s grip tightened on your arm.
“That’s not any of your damn business.” You said boldly as Bucky grabbed John by the shoulder, pulling him off you and shoving him towards your front door, keeping you safely behind him.
Bucky could feel John’s nose break under his flesh fist. He couldn’t remember actively thinking through the motions of swinging a punch, just the fury surging through his veins at John’s words. His punch had enough force behind it that if he swung at John with his vibranium hand, it would have killed him. There’s still time if necessary.
“Motherfucker.” John spat blood as his hands cautiously prodded his now skewed nose.
“If you dare step foot in this building again, a broken nose will be the least of your concerns.” Bucky assured, and John’s eyes widened at the threat.
“I’ll press charges! You just assaulted me!” He yelled as he cowardly backed out of your apartment, blood still dripping onto your floorboards. As soon as he was out of sight, you rushed to shut the door, snibbing the multiple locks that were installed on the back side.
“Are you okay?” Bucky asked, hands tentatively hovering over you, eyes roaming your frame to ensure John hadn’t hurt you any further than the red marks on your left forearm indicated. Seeing the distress in your eyes made him want to take another swing at John, he’d kill him this time.
“Bucky, your hand.” Of course you were more worried about him than yourself.
“I don’t give a shit about me doll, are you alright?”
“Yes, just a bit shaken. Thank you for stepping in, John never understood boundaries. And don’t worry about him, he wouldn’t dare say anything, not with what I’ve got on him.” It was an ominous statement, one which made Bucky question what deplorable, and potentially violent, history you had with him.
Fuck John and any other man who had ever treated you poorly, made you feel less than, made you feel small. You were the best person Bucky had ever met. You deserved so much better than that manipulative, hot-tempered bastard. You deserved someone who’d stop at nothing to give you the world.
“How ‘bout you let me hold you tonight?”
“Just what I need, Buck.”
And damn, he was already prepared to give you the whole darn universe.
Part 4 coming soon
Be added to the taglist here
Permanent taglist: @imagining-harrypotter @tripletstephaniescp @hoeforthefictional @moonshooter @steverogerswifesblog @yliumy @p0tterhead934 @asgardwinter @demonpoxballad @nagygreta
Bucky Barnes taglist: @thechoosenonecreator @claudiaatje @badassbaker @starry-night-20 @samthemarvelfan @erynnnn @gitasor @popeheywardssecretgf @sebastiansleftkidney @rxccie @foreverandevermoresworld @baby-banana @braziliancoffee01 @psychoticmason
Keeping Me Up taglist: @samantha-lefay @dexter99 @silentkiller2374 @foreverandevermoresworld @baby-banana
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Caught in the Fire 23 - Aftermath [Bucky Barnes x Reader]
A.N: Thank you so much for your wonderful support my loves ❤ Here’s the new chapter, I hope you like it and please don’t forget to tell me what you think of it! kisses!❤
Pairing: Mobster!Bucky Barnes x Female Reader
Summary: Aftermath of a break up is never easy.
Warnings: Violence, death, crime, explicit language, dysfunctional relationships, drinking, mentions of sex. This is an AU, friendly reminder that I don’t condone any of the actions depicted on this story and please read with care.
You had never been the type to deal with break ups easily, but this?
This was something else, and he wasn’t making it any easier for you.
It had taken you a couple of days. Now, even a month later, you found it hard to get out of the bed or keep yourself together but at least now you weren’t bursting into tears while you were working, which all your friends said was a good improvement.
They didn’t need to know that you spent almost every night crying yourself to sleep.
Bucky, however? He had a whole different approach to this break up.
The whole city was aware of it, because overnight, it had turned into the goddamn Wild West. Everyone who was aware of the power dynamics of the city was on edge, and every newcomer was warned not to wander off into the specific parts of the city. Each night, you could hear gunshots, police sirens and at least twice a week you drove through some kind of a crime scene or walked over the blood splatters that couldn’t be washed off the night before.
The turf war –or something worse- was slowly taking over the city, and everyone tried to get out of the way before it killed them too.
Your head snapped up and you looked over your shoulder, blinking back the tears, willing yourself to come back to the present.
Josh licked his lips, “Um—I have to call my girlfriend, it’s urgent. Can you cover the register for a minute? I mean no one is here yet but…”
“Sure, is she okay?”
“Yeah,” he said. “Yeah she’s fine, her brother had this appendicitis thing, she spent the night at the hospital.”
“Shit— yeah, call her!” you nodded. “Tell her she can let us know if she needs anything.”
“Thanks,” he said and walked outside from the back door, and you left the kitchen to walk to the register. It was still early in the morning - very early, so there were no customers and you pulled out a cup to fill yourself some coffee.
The wind bells by the door chimed, making you turn your head and put the coffee down and the blond man approached the register.
“Hi there,” he said. “Can I get some coffee? On the go.”
“Sure thing,” you said, and took a paper cup from the shelf. “Milk or sugar?”
“Sugar,” he said and chuckled. “As sweet as you, I’d say.”
You looked over your shoulder and repressed the urge to roll your eyes, then put the paper cup in front of him and smiled sweetly at him.
“Will that be all, officer?”
He blinked a couple of times, as if he was taken aback by you being able to tell an undercover cop but in all honesty, growing up with Bucky had made you more open to noticing any small details like these.
And it wasn’t as if he had put too much effort into this clumsy effort of looking like a civilian.
“Barnes trained you well,” he commented, making your jaw clench for a second before you shrugged your shoulders.
“Grew up in a bad neighborhood,” you corrected him and he took a sip of his coffee.
“John Walker,” he introduced himself and you crossed your arms over your chest.
“Nice to meet you.”
“You’re not going to tell me your name?”
“I’m pretty sure you know it already.”
He held up his hands. “Guilty as charged,” he said. “Can’t blame a guy for trying.”
Couldn’t you, though?
“I’d like to ask you a couple of questions,” he said. “About your boyfriend.”
Your stomach dropped. “Ex-boyfriend.”
“Right,” he snapped his fingers, “Ex-boyfriend. So I take it there’s no reason for either of us to play dumb, you know about his line of work?”
“Of course,” you said. “He’s a businessman, but I can’t see how I can help you with that.”
He tilted his head.
“He’s a businessman,” he repeated. “How about what his father left him?”
“You mean the family company?”
His gaze was almost reprimanding on you.
“Uh huh. Why did you say you broke up again?”
“Do you really want me to bring you down to the station, sweetheart?”
“I’m not your sweetheart,” the words left your lips almost easily. “And you’re going to take me to the station to ask me about my relationship?”
“Your relationship with a very dangerous man,” he stated. “Things could get really bad for you if you don’t answer my questions.”
You raised your brows, then shrugged your shoulders.
“He uh… he cheated on me,” you said after a beat. “Not much of a relationship material, that one.”
“And you’re protecting the man who broke your pretty little heart?”
You sipped your coffee. “I have no idea what you’re talking about, officer,” you stated. “The last time I checked, being a cheater wasn’t illegal.”
He heaved a sigh, leaning his palm on the counter to lean in slightly.
“Correct me if I’m wrong but—“ he said, “Isn’t this the second guy who cheated on you? One would think you can’t keep ‘em happy, huh?”
You could feel the anger spreading through you. He was trying to provoke you, you knew he was, but you managed to repress the fury burning your throat, and shrugged your shoulders again.
“Are we done here?”
“We’re done when I say we’re done,” he said, making you arch a brow. “Speaking of your ex-boyfriend, any idea where he is? We’d like to question him too.”
“No idea. I don’t keep tabs on my exes.”
“And his brother? He was less than willing when I asked him about his…accident.”
Of course he was. Paul was an asshole, but he wasn’t an idiot.
“I’m afraid I can’t be much of a help about that one either.”
He looked you in the eye, as if trying to figure out your motives before he heaved a sigh.
“Well,” he said and put his card on the counter, “Give me a call if you change your mind. In case you want to take revenge.”
He walked to the door but stopped when you called out his name.
He turned around. “Yes?”
You tilted your head, eyes narrowed as you locked your gaze on him.
“Be careful out there,” you said, a small smile pulling at your lips. “It’s a dangerous city.”
He could recognize the veiled threat, you knew he would, but he didn’t comment on it as he nodded at you, then walked out of the bakery. You gritted your teeth, then scrunched up the card to toss it into the garbage can before taking a sip of your coffee.
The bakery was buzzing by the lunch time, but you could hardly focus on anything other than what had happened in the morning. A part of you –no matter how angry you were at Bucky- wanted to warn him but on the other hand, he had ripped out your heart so understandably you didn’t want to call him.
“What on earth are you doing here?”
You raised your head and a small smile pulled at your lips when you saw Alex staring at you.
“I own the place,” you managed to joke. “What’s your excuse?”
“No I mean,” Alex motioned around. “You’re usually in the back.”
“Yeah!” you said, “My uh…my cousin, he had this thing, he had to go and see his girlfriend. Family emergency kind of deal.”
“So you’re covering both the kitchen and the register?”
“I can’t exactly cover the kitchen right now, I’ll probably just close up the shop early,” you said. “It’s fine. At least it gives me more time to go home and watch Titanic for the hundredth time.”
Alex narrowed his eyes at you, then went under the counter to get behind the register next to you.
“Uh- hello customer, what are you doing?” you asked with a laugh and he wiggled his brows.
“Helping you. I can deal with the register.”
“You want to work at the register,” you said. “You?”
“Yeah I mean, the school is closed for the summer for the last two weeks,” he said, “In case it has escaped your notice.”
“And here I was wondering why Emma went to that summer camp on a school week. That explains stuff.”
“So I could use an extra gig,” he pointed out, mirroring your grin. “For the day, it is. If you’d be so kind to employ me.”
“You have a spare apron? A name tag? Can I put a fake name on the name tag?”
“Do you even know how the register works?”
“Mm hm. Thanks to my mom.”
“Wasn’t your mom a teacher?”
“Well yeah,” he said, “But she always said I should learn something new every summer so one summer I worked at a diner.”
You shot him a look. “You’re sweet, but I can’t accept this.”
“Well too bad because I employed myself here.”
“You can pay me with cookies. Cupcakes if I do a good job,” he smiled sweetly, making you let out a giggle despite you trying to contain it. He offered his hand to you.
“You’re something else, I swear,” you murmured and shook his hand, “Fine. You’re hired for the day.”
“Great! So about that apron—“
Becca’s familiar voice made you turn around and you could feel your stomach drop. You had no idea what Bucky had told her, but it felt as if Becca had been trying her hardest to stay away from your way. She hadn’t dropped by the bakery in the last month, neither had Bucky or Steve, but you knew they couldn’t stay away forever.
It was the neutral ground after all.
“Becca,” you managed to smile. “Uh…hi.”
“Hey,” she smiled back but it didn’t reach her eyes.
“Can I help you with anything?”
“Sure. Can I get a coffee and a chocolate chip cookie?”
You quickly prepared her order while she went to the far left of the counter, and you walked to place it in front of her.
“There you go.”
She nibbled on her lip, then stole a look at you.
“Um…How have you been?”
“Good,” you said. “You?”
“I’m good,” she said. “You know. Considering. How’s Emma?”
“She’s fine, thank you for asking.”
She pursed her lips.
“I wanted to come by sooner,” she said. “But I figured maybe you didn’t want to see anyone with my surname.”
You paused for a moment, then shook your head.
“Don’t worry about it,” you said. “I’m fine.”
“Are you though?”
Your throat tightened but you managed to keep your expression nonchalant.
“People break up,” you said. “It’s okay. I have no grudges against you. Or—or anyone, really. I just want to put that behind me, that’s it.”
Becca didn’t need to hear how you cried yourself to sleep every night, after all.
“Oh well, I suppose you have a healthier coping mechanism than him.”
You scoffed a bitter laugh. “What’s he coping with?” you asked. “It was his decision.”
A shadow crossed Becca’s eyes and she nodded.
“Right,” she said. “Yeah. Don’t mind me.”
You lingered there for a moment, trying to make up your mind about whether to tell her, but you knew you couldn’t keep it a secret.
No matter how much you hated him.
“Becca, can you do me a favor?”
“Anything,” she said quickly. “Just say the word.”
You looked around but there were way too many people in the bakery and you couldn’t afford to be overheard, so you grabbed a paper and pen, then scribbled down the code Bucky had taught you years ago.
Rabid hound, no leash.
You pushed the paper in her direction and she took it to skim the lines, then cussed under her breath.
Of course Becca knew. Everyone in the business knew the code; aggressive cop, undercover.
“Are you sure?” she asked, her jaw clenched and you nodded.
“None. Looking for a scent though.”
She clicked her tongue, then pushed the paper into her pocket.
“Thank you,” she said. “I’ll make sure to warn others.”
You nodded again and Becca tilted her head.
“You know you didn’t have to tell me, right?” she asked, making you scoff. “Anyone else would’ve jumped on the opportunity for revenge.”
“You know me better than that. So does he.”
She dragged her tongue over her teeth as if she was analyzing you, then shook her head.
“Well I’ll be damned,” she said. “Mom couldn’t be more wrong.”
You arched a brow. “Why?”
“Loyalty despite heartbreak,” she commented. “It’s not something that can be taught or bought, you have it or you don’t. I don’t care what my mother thinks, you were born for this.”
“Don’t get me wrong, but I hope the fuck not.”
She let out a bitter laugh, “Either way, thank you. On his behalf.”
Your stomach flipped. “I’m not doing it for him.”
“I know,” she said and eyed you up and down. “You’ve heard what they say on the streets, haven’t you?”
You had. Of course you had, that rumor followed Bucky’s name or his brand new nickname, anyone who was aware of the change the city was going through had heard it.
A simple explanation, but a wrong one in your opinion.
“I thought you didn’t listen to rumors.”
“It has some truth to it though, wouldn’t you say?” Becca said with a sad smile. “Bucky Barnes has lost his anchor, and he’s taking it out on the city.”
You tried to swallow the lump in your throat, and offered her a small smile.
“Enjoy your coffee, Becca,” you said and walked past Alex, and pushed the door open to enter the kitchen.
Alex being there was like a fresh breath of air, especially after weeks of forcing yourself to get through the day at work. For the first time in a long time, you didn’t have to drag yourself to get through with the day, and you barely noticed the closing time had come.
“You’re joking!” you exclaimed, letting out a laugh and Alex shook his head, clutching his stomach, trying to control his laughter.
“In my defense, I was sixteen!” he said, “Not all of us were smart and calm at sixteen!”
“You asked a girl out by serenading her,” you said, desperate to breathe through laughter, “With a guitar. In the cafeteria.”
“Yeah and she rejected me.”
You gasped, “No!”
“Yep. In front of people and everything.”
“Ouch,” you licked your lips, “Sorry to hear that Romeo.”
“I was a romantic back then,” he said with a grin. “My theory is that my mom made me watch too many rom-coms. No one actually taught me how to ask girls out, so my only guide were rom com movies.”
“Died before I was born.”
You hissed in a breath. “My condolences.”
“It’s okay,” he waved a hand in the air. “That’s actually um - that’s kind of why I came over to say hi that day we met. Em was giving you a hard time and I thought…”
“Oh my God she was crying so hard at that café, I remember!” you said, “And thank you, you were such a great help that day.”
“Don’t even mention it. I’m a little familiar with how hard it is to raise a kid alone and I actually thought—”
“That I was her mom?”
“You and the rest of the town for some reason.”
“Yeah what’s that about? I’ve heard some moms talk about it.”
“They think she’s my and Bucky’s illegitimate child,” you said, waving a hand in the air and he raised his brows.
“Please. Emma is too nice to be Barnes’s kid.”
“Or mine,” you pointed out and he raised his brows.
“I disagree. You’re not half bad if I do say so myself.”
A small giggle escaped from your mouth. “Is that supposed to be a compliment?”
“Hey, be glad I don’t burst into a song, you’ve just heard about that story—“ he started but the sound of the door opening diverted your attention. You turned your head to say you were closed, but as soon as you saw the figure by the door, your smile faded, your heart starting to pace in your chest.
He was here.
You could feel your throat tightening at the sight of him, memories rushing into your mind, making it hard for you to even breathe. Even though your body craved his presence and to be close to him, your heart felt as if it would leap out of your chest, anger spreading through your system.
It wasn’t supposed to be possible to want him and hate him at the same time.
He lingered there for just a moment before he pulled himself together, his brows furrowing at the sight of Alex and his eyes went from him to you. You could almost see the wheels turning in his head and he scoffed.
“Cute,” he commented, his voice bitter as he nodded at Alex. “Leave.”
“Alex, stay,” you said, not even averting your gaze from him. “He’ll ask nicely if he wants you to leave.”
Bucky’s eyes narrowed. “Are you serious?”
“I’ll stay if you want me to,” Alex told you and Bucky’s jaw clenched, looking at you expectantly before he heaved a sigh.
“I need to talk to you, okay?”
You crossed your arms, shrugging your shoulders before he pinched the bridge of his nose.
“For fuck’s sake—Alex, will you please give us a moment?” he spat and Alex turned to look at you.
“I’ll be right outside, just in case,” Alex pointed out and stepped out of the bakery as Bucky took a step closer to you. You kept your glare on him, leaning your back to the counter, your arms still closed.
“What do you want?”
Bucky pressed his lips together, staring at you before he shook his head, as if trying to shake off the thoughts.
“What do you want?” you repeated and he licked his lips.
“I uh…” he cleared his throat, “I got your note.”
“That’s not an answer.”
“I tried to call you,” he said. “But I… did you block my number?”
“Yeah,” you nodded. “I did. I thought it was enough of a message but I guess not.”
He swallowed thickly. “Um—how have you been?”
You arched a brow, staying quiet.
“Emma is none of your concern,” the simple sentence came out like a threat and he bit inside his cheek.
“I heard Sarah talking about the next year tuition, if you need—“
“I’d rather die than ask you for help,” you cut him off. “Thanks, I’ll pass.”
“Don’t fucking call me that.”
That seemed to make him pause and he took a deep breath.
“An undercover cop came here?”
“Yeah and he has nothing, he’s just looking for clues. I thought the note was clear enough, didn’t think I’d have to see you for a brainstorming session.”
“You have a name?”
“What, did you lose your sources in police or something? John Walker.”
“John Walker,” he repeated the name, texting someone before looking up from his phone. “Can I ask you something?”
“Why didn’t you tell him anything?”
You tilted your head. “I’m sorry?”
“I mean you….you could’ve. No one would blame you.”
“Jesus Christ, you really didn’t bother getting to know me at all, did you?” you asked. “I don’t know what I’m like in your imagination, but just because I hate your guts doesn’t mean I’ll betray my principles. It doesn’t work that way. I get why it’s confusing for you though.”
He closed his eyes for a moment before opening them again.
“Either way…” he said. “Thank you, I really appreciate it.”
You nodded your head, offering him a humorless smile. “Go fuck yourself James.”
He scoffed, a shadow crossing his eyes but you kept your glare on him.
“Good night Y/N,” he muttered softly before he walked out of the bakery and you felt your throat tightening as you blinked back the tears.
“What was that about?” Alex asked when he entered the bakery and you tried to swallow the lump in your throat.
“You sure?” he said. “I mean…Y/N, don’t get me wrong but why would you still want to talk to him?”
You took a deep breath, then tried to smile.
“We have history,” you murmured. “That’s it, there’s nothing more to it.”
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my little love
summary: there is a difference between hiding the grey of falling in love accidentally and shining in the brightness of choosing to grow in love purposefully-- so you’ll choose him as many times as you can.
pairing: bucky x reader
warnings: language, some angst, a lot of pining, very tiny sex mention. it’s me so there’s a lot of fluff and jokes.
a/n: no tag list because i couldn’t compile one lmao. this is just a former-fwb to friends to lovers fic that i started writing before wandavision or fatws came out so let’s pretend those shows don’t exist for the sake of this story! shout out to my best friend @allcaps1928 for the text “IDIOT!BUCKY RIGHTS” after she read this.
also yes i know what the adele song i took the title from is about but it’s also about feeling love in a time of loneliness.
The sip of coffee turns to ash on your tongue— acrid. Caustic when you swallow.
You smile, though. Bright, it convinces Bucky.
He grins around a sip of his latte. Cinnamon, brown sugar— something warm and sweet which sticks like glue to ribs gone brittle under decades of ice burn. His tongue sweeps over his lips, still smiling.
You could keep it up for that. Hide the grey and let your smiles radiate every color he needs.
Blue like ice when he’s on fire, green like sycamores when he needs to breathe. Something yellow to keep him warm, white to guide him home. Pink and red crêpe paper hearts, roses and boxes of chocolate— Valentine’s Day grins glowing with love.
There’s something purple about this one. Velvety and comforting. A promise in the curve of your lips, in the twinkle of sleepy eyes. Lavender aromatherapy turns to smoke when he looks away. Soot in your lungs, you cough.
It burns, doesn’t it? Singes your tongue with every breath? Maybe that’s why you can’t speak.
Maybe it’s why you haven’t spoken for weeks now, the extent of contact lying in a wave to say good morning across the line of treadmills and ellipticals, a nod to say good night as elevator doors slide shut.
He’d asked about it. Had the good manners to not blame you entirely with a soft concession that he hasn’t been around much lately anyway. Not good enough manners to leave you be as you’d gotten up to walk out of the conference room, though. Not good enough manners to just let some things go with a shrug— manners rotten enough to demand coffee in the name of playing catch-up.
The café is a familiar space.
It began as a place of refuge from missing the echo of Steve’s voice in the quiet halls of the Tower. A place so different from Tony’s labs where Peter and Morgan would spend hours tinkering with suits left behind for no one in particular while Pepper handled business. Somewhere you wouldn’t find Natasha’s hair ties or those pastel pink plates and mugs which she knew would be met with questions only to preemptively decree that she likes pink, okay? Sue me.
It hosted the two of you after a mission in Kolkata and withstood the degradation of its lukewarm, overly spiced chai in comparison to the sweet, piping hot doodh cha in clay cups you’d snuck out of the hotel for at four in the morning, sleepy Sam in tow. The mustachioed chaiwala had made no comment of your black eye, the bump on Sam’s forehead, and the limp in Bucky’s step and instead offered striped packets of Parle-G. The café walls didn’t hear the end of that for the hours the two of you spent huddled in the corner.
It kept the two of you cool in the summer of 2024 when a teenager in cork sole sandals and a light blue mesh top with cloud print told anyone who would listen— and yelled at those who would not— about how you are all so fucked, how climate change is gonna get us all because of the oil companies and the fucking government. You think the fires and disease are gonna stop? Get a goddamn clue, New York! You’d nodded along, applauded by snapping your fingers in agreement while Bucky glared down anyone who even contemplated opening their mouths in opposition.
It calmed the fire behind your ribs after nights— and sometimes afternoons— marked by urgency, a solution to loneliness and a-far-from-guaranteed tomorrow. Iced green tea with a squeeze of lemon and a brown sugar latte with a touch of cinnamon, a shared slice of apple crumble. Shyness in the colliding of your forks despite the bareness of only a small while before, unacknowledged and ignored intimacy beyond physical forcing your silverware apart. An echoing of the promise to maintain brick boundaries, words unsaid aching in the hand you want him to hold, the lips you wish he’d kiss outside the darkness of your bedroom.
It’s your space. Yours and Bucky’s. Holy perhaps to no one, but sacred to the two of you.
And it feels ruined now. Under snowfall and ash, frostbitten noses, your fingers burnt from desperately clutching the few remaining embers of wasted emotion, the café feels ruined. Your crumbling Parthenon.
He smiles at a tricolored corgi seated on the floor a few tables over. His question takes a sledgehammer to one of the remaining pillars, “Fuck the sneezing. I should get flowers anyway, right?”
“Flowers?” an attempt at a nonplussed expression, a casual sip of tea. You aren’t sure of your success.
“Yeah, my ma would make a big stink about it whenever I’d take a girl out.” His smile is fond, nostalgic. Only a little sad— he’s been working through it. “S’a li’l old-fashioned, I know. But it’s been three months. Feel like it’s the right time to get a little cheesy.”
You’d thought about calling it off. The bricks had fractured, grout eroded from love which burnt like acid.
But he’d beat you to the punch. Something about a third date. Something about going steady. Monogamy. He’d smiled, too, as if the words tasted like candy. Perfect white teeth bearing down on your heart as you could only grin along. Yellow with warmth even as you felt yourself freeze over.
Was it all his responsibility?
Or was it your palms, blistered and sore from pushing, pushing, pushing?
“Flowers are nice.” You draw the number 8 in your drink with a paper straw. “A little cheesy is nice.”
He returns your smile with one of his own, flicks a finger against your knuckle. “Tell me what’s goin’ on with you.”
You shrug. “Nothing to report.”
“Find that hard to believe. I can hear you an’ Sam getting back late at night, you know?” He taps the curve of his ear. “Super soldier hearing, remember?”
Eyes rolling, you skate a fingernail around the rim of your tall glass. “I’m coming back with Sam. What could I have to report if I’m coming back with Sam every night?”
“Fair enough,” he says after a moment of thought. There’s laughter in his voice, bright and happy, and, though you know he isn’t taunting you, there's the pang of an insult in your stomach. “Just thought something— someone— outside the Tower might be keeping you busy.”
It’d started on a Wednesday. Rainy and so windy you’d watched a woman lose her umbrella from your window and hissed sympathetically through your teeth. After one of those dinners Sam arranged on a night most of you were free, smiling over Doordashed gnocchi in an attempt to keep the few of you who were left together.
Wanda, green eyes dull and haunted, had spoken for the first time in ten days. Told Sam he should be proud she’d dragged a brush through her hair for him, stared at her plate with sight blurred by tears when he said he was.
Peter had dropped a can of soda and screamed at the burst, apologized with his hands over his ears.
Sam, for the first time since you’d known him, had looked defeated. Something so profoundly fractured deep within him rose to the surface. The shield comes with a lot, he’d once said after a mission went south. Just gotta find the right stance to balance it all.
During the mission he’d smiled, but that night over dinner you’d seen beneath it.
So, since that Wednesday night, you’ve taken up more missions. Carried more responsibility. Played Mother Goose to Wanda and Peter. Become Sam’s sounding board for strategy. A lap for him to lay his head in on nights in and a shoulder for him to lean against in cab rides after nights out.
If he needs reminders, you’ll paste Post-It note affirmations to his mirror. If he needs to forget, you’ll take him to his favorite bar and match him drink for drink.
He’s healed since that night. Found a stance which favors balance, set the fracture and let it mend under a cast wrapped in red, white, and blue.
Yet, because of the nights you drink more than he does and the nights you cry into a bowl of popcorn at movie scenes meant to bring warmth, he lets you imagine you’re stitching his heart together when your fingers really work to keep together the walls of your own.
You held his hand through it so he’ll hold yours. No matter whose benefit you think you’re doing it for.
“Work things,” is your explanation to Bucky. You smile then. “Saving the world is more time consuming than I thought it’d be.”
“S’a real shame they don’t cover that in orientation. I went into this thinkin’ it’d be a straight-forward nine to five.”
“Those ‘out of the office’ emails just don’t work the way they used to.” Before he can smile, you sit up straight with an apologetic frown. “So sorry.” You slow your speech, raise your volume, and make large gestures, “An email is electronic mail. It’s sent via this thing called the internet through, like, electronic devices—”
“Christ’s sake,” he laughs, loud and happy. Rolls brightened blue eyes. “You think you’re a real fuckin’ riot, don’t you?”
“Absolutely,” you say through laughter of your own. “Why? You gonna tell me I’m not?”
“Wouldn’t dream of it.” He sits back, grin firmly in place. “Who am I to tell you the sky ain’t blue?”
“Wow, don’t give out compliments too freely now. I might start to think you missed me.”
He hums out a sigh. There’s a gentleness despite the intensity in his stare. “You wouldn’t be wrong if you did.”
“I’ve been busy.”
“I know,” he nods. He drains what remains in his cup and smacks his tongue against his lips. “Work things.”
An uneasy silence seems to set over the café. Something unsaid and ignored in the skepticism of his voice is a suffocating blanket spread over words which, free of context, are innocent enough. You think you could scream under the heavy blanket and go unheard, struggle with all of your strength and remain tangled. Fleece in your fists, fleece in your lungs, fleece between your teeth. It may be easier to lay there, may be more difficult to struggle.
It’ll all go unseen anyway.
An incoming notification brightens the screen of your phone.
Two hours have passed.
Two hours in asking if he should go with the grey button-down— it’s smart, brings my eyes out, too— or the black sweater— I like black, always have.
Two hours in wondering whether the restaurant Pepper suggested is a good option— Stark took her there n’ I’m no fuckin’ Stark; that Depression frugality stuck— before he settled on Sam’s suggestion— Wilson knows a good plate-a food, I’ll give his dumb ass that.
Two hours in thinking about some chocolate— hell, I could use some chocolate myself. Maybe flowers— is sneezing unattractive? Because roses fuck me up fast.
You sit in the ruins, temple pillars reduced to dust and rubble at your feet, and remind him, “You’re gonna be late.”
He shakes himself from the daze of expectation. “Right.” A drag of his hands down the lap of his jeans and he gestures vaguely toward the exit. “Come on—”
“Sam’s actually my ride. Pepper signed us up to build sets for Morgan’s play.” Setting your chin in your palm, you look up at him as he stands and smile. Shake the snow from weeping willow trees to make it reassuring. “Have a nice time tonight.”
It’s interesting to inspect the damage to the temple once he leaves. To see the debris of delicate stone deities and the spilled wax of burnt out candles. To hear the echoes of prayers once whispered and laughter once sung like hymns. To feel Earth stop its slow spin in mercy. And to be the only one to experience it.
The barista still places cardboard cups under the espresso machine, her manager coaches himself into presenting customers with rehearsed smiles. A family of three sits by the window, two smoothie glasses and three straws between them. A girl in a tennis skirt places a kiss on the pouted lips of a girl in tight black jeans, eyes wide and loving. Small temples of Pentelic marble. Complex, but sturdier. Foundations of intention, rather than accident. In their golden age while you sit, Athens fallen around you in a loss against Sparta.
Sam orders a three-shot oat milk latte, extra hot— to go, even though he moves to sit for a couple-a minutes. Murmurs something about having a long night ahead of him when he takes the seat Bucky had occupied. There’s concern in the deep brown of his eyes as he appraises you.
Frowning, he means to ask but twists his mouth in a grin instead when the café manager— rehearsed smile in place— sets a slice of reine de saba in front of him.
“On the house, Cap. I mean, Mr. America,” the manager, a tall short man with a mop of brown hair, pauses as he registers what he’s said. “Mr. Captain Wilson, sir.”
Sam has enough manners to only smile. You, however— forced to cover your lips with your hand to laugh quietly— seem to have forgotten the concept of manners.
“Thanks, man,” Sam says, digging a fork into the slice. “S’why we do what we do. The free cake.”
Sam wastes no time once the manager walks away. Scooping up what should be a decent mouthful of cake and slivered almonds, he asks, “Wanna tell me why you look like that?”
“Like what?” you take the fork he offers you and cut a small piece for yourself. Eyes narrowed, you drop the mere morsel and cut a bigger portion. “Keep in mind that I’ll suffocate you in your sleep if you say anything other than ‘ethereal’ or ‘radiant.’ I know where you live, Mr. Captain Wilson, sir.”
“I was gonna say ‘like shit,’” he tells you. He laughs when you hold your fork up to threaten a stabbing. “I’m sorry. Like radiant, ethereal shit.”
“Sleep with one eye open,” is your response, accompanied by a glare. To answer his question, though, “I didn’t get much rest last night.”
You shrug. “Those melatonin gummies are a damn lie. S’just shitty candy.”
He doesn’t buy it. Skeptically, “You sure?”
“Yeah, it just sticks in my teeth. And what kind of flavor is ‘midnight berry’ anyway?”
He says your name. In that low, sighed way. Pushes what remains of the gateau in your direction so he can focus more directly on his coffee. “If you’re—”
“I’m fine,” you say with a laugh. You poke at the cake. “Gonna try that Sleepytime tea nonsense tonight and if that doesn’t work, I’ll come to your room. One of those painfully boring stories of yours and I’ll be out like a light.”
“Boring, huh? I think you might be mistaking me for Barnes.”
“As if. Look how handsome you are,” you reach across the table and roughly pinch his cheek, grinning when he slaps your hand away. “Barnes doesn’t even compare.”
“Don’t think flattering me is gonna get me to stop worrying,” he warns. “I’m persistent.”
“I think what you mean to say is ‘a pain.’”
He rolls his eyes but otherwise drops it. The sip he takes of his latte is long and slurped, the sound drawing a laugh from you. “Tastes better that way.”
“Yeah? Does obnoxiousness bring out the notes of chicory?”
A fond shake of your head and you rise when Sam does, waiting as he stuffs a small bundle of bills into the tip jar on the counter.
“Did you ever find out what play they’re putting on?” he asks when you walk ahead of him to the door. He reaches around you to pull it open, holding it as you pass through.
“Jack and the Beanstalk.”
He frowns in consideration as the two of you reach where his car is parked. “Do we know which character Morgan is playing?”
“Not yet. Auditions are tomorrow. She’s gunning for the bean saleswoman.”
“Bean saleswoman,” you repeat just a little louder, laughing when Sam exaggerates his confused expression further. “She’s the one who takes Jack’s cow and gives him magic beans.”
“I thought that was supposed to be a scary old man.”
“Morgan thought about all the characters and their motivations and decided she liked the bean seller’s motivation the most.”
“Which is what?”
“According to Morgan, ‘the bean seller has lots of beans and no cow. And she really wants a cow.’ Morgan likes cows.” Grinning when Sam snorts, you sit back against the plush passenger’s seat.
“Why isn’t Barnes helping?”
“He has a date tonight,” is your sighed reply. It earns you a brief look from Sam. “And with the way his relationship’s going, probably his wedding next week.”
“He’ll have to postpone holy matrimony.” Sam shrugs when you glance at him. “There’s a situation in Kyiv and I’m sending you two on Saturday.”
“You were sitting on that in the café?”
“The car’s a secure location, right?”
Shocked laughter is fractured by a nervous tremble. The world turns slowly once more. Your mouth opens, shuts, and opens again until you land on, “But the play—”
He offers you a strange look. “It’s only three days. You can build sets when you get back.”
Your movements feel slow, as if you’re moving through syrup. You feel each aching centimeter of your stomach falling, each flexing and stretching muscle when you nod. “Okay. What’s the situation?”
“Ukraine’s got parliamentary elections coming up. Prime Minister Shmyhal is worried about what the Svoboda and Batkivshchyna parties have planned.” He takes a slow sip of his coffee and puts the cup in the holder again. “There are rumors of a repeat of 2012 and 2013 when Svoboda and Batkivshchyna deputies accused MPs of voting for absent colleagues. It escalated to fist fights and xenophobic chants during a televised speech, and the Batkivshchyna stormed the podium in parliament to prevent swearing-ins. These guys have attacked members of the press, allegedly killed four national guardsmen, and constantly threaten violence if they don’t get their way. All the rumors are made worse by the new president dissolving parliament during his inauguration.”
“Can he do that?”
“Court said it was legal when the last guy did it and called for snap elections. The Svoboda hate this guy and the idea of losing whatever seats they managed to hold onto during the Blip. So it’s not a good scene.”
“And all of that is only gonna last three days?”
He shakes his head but keeps his eyes on the road. “Fury’s had his agents in place since the presidential election. They noticed Svoboda party members flyin’ in from Lviv and getting rooms near the Verkhovna Rada building two days ago. Timing’s off, need to do some recon to see what it’s about.”
“You can’t come with me instead?”
Another strange look. “Barnes can speak Ukrainian, spent a couple months there when he was on the run so he knows his way around. You gotta talk yourself into some places, blend in in others. You can’t do that with both of us knowing fuck all about the language.”
Sam watches as you attempt to burrow into the seat further, your arms crossing over your chest. “Fine.”
A brief pause, thick and lingering like smoke, floods the car until, “Is something goin’ on?”
“Huh?” You watch the light change from red to green. You ignore the burning feel of Sam’s stare. “No, not that I know of.”
You sit in the glow of five bright screens.
Eyes narrowed beneath a pair of thick glasses, your fingers are sticky with grains of sugar and citric acid. One leg rests on the dining table, one is bent with your knee at your chest. A tablet sits unsteady on your thigh, blueprints of the hotel suite and floor digitized with X’s marking the areas covered by a camera, their scope accounted for with dashed-line borders.
Bucky winks into the camera he’s set up. The leaves of a fern— which sits in a corner of the living room— cover part of his left eye, blur the cockiness of his expression. He grins when your scoff rings through the comms. “Hi, sweetheart.”
“Got a good view?”
“Wouldn’t know,” you reply, popping another Sour Patch Watermelon into your mouth. Bucky can hear the smile in your voice. “Your giant head’s in the way.”
“Oh, that’s the best view, honey.” Your poorly suppressed laughter receives a small smile in return, more to himself though it’s captured by the camera. “Can you see both couches?”
“Not really. Turn the pot about 30 degrees clockwise.”
“Come on, it’s been 15 minutes of turning the damn—”
“We can argue later. Agent H said their session wrapped as of four minutes ago and they’re heading back.”
Sighing, he crouches out of sight and the view shifts. You have a clearer view of the desktop— not clear enough, however. “S’better,” you say. “There’s a leaf in the way.”
Vibranium fingers struggle to tuck the leaf aside and a handful of too-long seconds pass this way. You watch as his frustration grows. Exasperation shines over his features until he rips the leaf from its branch, the force of which moves the camera a few inches. “Fuckin’ stupid—”
“If you’re done fighting a leaf, you just moved the camera.”
His eyes meet the lens. Pleading. You almost feel bad. “I can’t just stick this shit on a table?”
“This is a better vantage point. The tables are too close to the center of the room.” You glance at the other screens. “Okay, slide the pot two inches to the right.”
He crouches again. Once the view shifts very slightly, “That good?”
It’s fine. Yet, “Not really. Slide to the right.”
You hum when he complies. “Now slide to the left.” The plant is moved less than a few centimeters to the left, leaves rustling. “Take it back now, y’all.”
The plant is scooted barely half an inch back before Bucky stands and glares at the camera. The chill of ice is felt through the screen.
Nonetheless, “One hop this time.” A pause. “Right foot, let’s stomp.”
A roll of his eyes.
And he stomps his right foot.
“Left foot, let’s stomp.”
He stomps his left foot.
“Cha cha real smooth.” Drumming a beat against your thigh, you attempt to beatbox along with it, not deterred in the least that he is standing entirely still. “Turn it out.”
Bucky— long-suffering expression, long-suffering tone— asks, “Can you see the whole room?”
“Can you do the Cha Cha Slide?” When he only glares, you sigh. “It was fine before. Move it up half an inch and to the right half an inch, buzzkill.”
“Is that right? I’m a buzzkill?” He rights himself once the plant is in place. “Who was it that told Sam about my plan?”
“You wanted to tie these guys up in our room until the elections were done without evidence of wrongdoing. That’s kidnap.”
“It’s incapacitation, you li’l tattletail.”
“Incapacitation by kidnap.”
A dismissive wave of his hand. “Semantics. Besides, I wasn’t gonna charge ‘em ransom.”
“You don’t have to ask for ransom money for it to be a kidnap.”
“Yes, you do. Otherwise it’s just hangin’ out. And a spectacular waste of time.”
A less than attractive raspberry bubbles past your lips. “Your legal knowledge is changing my life, Bucky.”
“And it’s free of charge. You struck gold when you met me.”
Your phone buzzes with an incoming message from Agent H: Entered hotel lobby, heading toward elevators.
“They’re headed to the elevators.” You check each screen, note the perimeters. “The cameras are fine where they are. You should—”
The door to your room clicks shut.
Bucky— much too casually in your opinion— makes his way to you as he removes his gloves. He snorts at your gun still pointed in his direction, his jacket landing in a pile on the couch as you flip the safety back on.
He doesn’t notice your incredulous stare until he’s beside you, checking each camera angle for himself. He returns your stare with one of his own, brows lifted. “What?”
“What ‘what’? I could’ve shot you.”
You receive a skeptical look in return. “You aren’t rash enough.”
“You don’t even wait for my signal? You just stroll back?”
“You said they were headed to the elevators,” he shrugs. His hands are set on the table, one on either side of you, so he can stare at the monitors comfortably. The warmth rolling from his chest seems to thaw the tension in your shoulders. “Don’t worry. I checked if the hall was clear.”
“What if the camera angles were still off?”
“I prioritized not getting caught,” his voice is now an absentminded mumble, chin set on top of your head.
He slides the hotel service folder toward himself and flips through the laminated pages with vibranium fingers. There’s a faint scritch scratch of his stubble against your hair when he asks, “How do you feel about dessert for dinner? They’ve got medovyk.”
He pumps his eyebrows twice when you tilt your head back to look at him. He grins wide in an attempt at persuasion.
The person who boarded the Quinjet just two days ago was resolved to maintain a modicum of professionalism. A certain strength of boundary. That person sat far from the cockpit. Played music loud enough to ache the eardrums below shaking buds. Cracked open a book which had gone unread for eight long years.
It took one conversation for that person to vanish. Just a casual question about exfoliation and you set your book aside. After all, should one really break an eight year pattern?
You and Bucky fell into your usual rhythm over those two days. You shared looks across Verkhovna Rada chambers when you posed as security guards. You hid your laughter behind cups of coffee as you met with Agent H and Agent L for morning briefings. You took half of his deruny at dinner and he took half of your varenyky. No pillow border divided you at night, nothing to stop your toes from burying themselves in the warmth of his legs or his nose from nudging your forehead.
You wave a dismissive hand and use the tablet to disable the looped footage you’d sent to the hallway security camera feeds. Both of your legs now rest on the table, crossed at the ankle. “Order what you want. I’m not too hungry.”
He straightens and shakes his head in disappointment. “How can you be when you fill up on junk?”
He scoops a handful of tiny sugar-coated watermelon slices from the bag of candy and tosses it all into his mouth. He wags his finger in your face as he chews, nearly striking your nose. “Shit’s awful. You’re gonna pass out one day from malnutrition.”
You hum and watch as he takes another handful. Your lips curl in playful anger. “Yeah, maybe I’ll adopt your diet. What’s it called? The ‘everything in sight’ diet?”
“Are you saying I eat a lot? That’s rude, sweetheart, and I’m sensitive.”
He rolls his eyes at the pout of sympathy you offer him while you set your hand under his chin, guiding his head to the left, then the right. Eyes narrowed, you inspect his features and place your fingers against his pulse point, concluding seconds later with, “You’ll live.”
His sole response when you laugh and sit back, thoroughly satisfied with yourself, is a sarcastic smile.
A sarcastic smile which shifts seconds later into something genuine. Something soft.
Two days of stepping in that old rhythm and Bucky’s taken a dive into familiarity. Headfirst. Nothing graceful, not at all coordinated. He’s sure he’s going to bash his head against concrete soon enough, yet he kicks and kicks hoping it’ll get him there sooner.
It’s sadistic, isn’t it?
Craving the pain of it. The crimson blood stains going brown against the sidewalk. Everything inside of him— all the sadness, the devotion, the love— spilled at your feet only to be scrubbed away moments later so your steps aren’t given a chance to falter. He’s prepared an apology for the marks on your shoes, for the heart your heel goes right through.
It may be for the feel of the fall. The floating when his legs ache from kicking, the soaring when he spreads heavy arms. A smile and wordless conversations over morning coffee, a laugh if he’s lucky. He would spill his blood all over the pavement, let you tear his heart to shreds under your soles, for that.
“You got time for the café when we get back?”
“You’ll have to ask Morgan.” Your voice comes muffled, head in the minifridge in the search for a cold bottle of water. Bucky has a plain look over his face once you stand. “She’s in charge of scheduling for the play staff and has taken all of my free time. If I want time off, I have to file a request at least 48-hours in advance. She has forms and everything.”
“Christ, is this a Broadway production? Is she in charge of that fuckin’ John Adams show?”
Water bottle at your lips, you pause. “Do you mean Hamilton?”
“I guess,” he shrugs.
“No,” you snort, “but she’s taking her job very seriously.”
“Play hooky,” is his simple suggestion. He pushes the menu aside, determined to order all three entrées he finds appealing. He then attempts to level you with a wide-eyed look. “C’mon. It’s a post-mission tradition.”
A frown pulls at the corners of your lips. “I made a promise. Besides, don’t you have to go see a certain someone when we get back?”
He scoffs away the playful lilt of your voice. “I’d still make time for you.”
You smile. Warm as the sun. You watch him melt in it. “Well, that’s sweet but I’m sure she wants all the time with you she can get. I’ll make you a latte with brown sugar for the debrief with Sam, though. I’ll even write ‘Bunky’ on it and it’ll be like we’re right there in the café.”
His own smile is brief. “S’not just about the latte, you know?”
If you tell him the temple has been leveled under ash and snow, that all the candles have been extinguished and all the hymns have come to an end. If you tell him deities you’d sculpted from delicate clays and sands have fallen to dust, if you tell him the sight of the ruins breaks your heart all over again, would he hear you?
Has he seen it?
Has he felt the universe pause in mercy?
He stands on a foundation of intent now. Not like the foundation the two of you built in search of something else. Can he feel the difference?
“You wanna hear my Cab Calloway impression?”
Passing him the plain black duffle you’ve spent nights begging him to replace, you receive a sideway glance from Bucky. It lingers for a beat too long, even as you avert your gaze to the tear running parallel to the struggling zipper. “You have a Cab Calloway impression?”
“Locked and fucking loaded.” You’re emptying your weapons locker into your own bag intending to clean the guns later, sending him a smile over your shoulder. “You know the Betty Boop version of Snow-White? From 1933?”
You start humming St. James Infirmary Blues in an attempt to jog his memory, giving him your bag, too. You gesture with your hands, widen your eyes as you walk down the jet’s ramp to the helipad. “You know?”
Bucky stops even as he’s several steps behind you, stopping you as well with a simple, “I’m sorry.”
You turn to see him staring confusedly, brow furrowed at you. “How the fuck do you— Are you older than what you’ve been letting on? Because if you’re from the fucking thirties or forties, too, —”
“No,” you say once you’ve laughed sarcastically. “Turns out some of the nonsense from those racist, anti-Semetic, awful times manages to be great now, too. Some of the music, some of the movies, —”
“Some of the people,” his smile growing as his voice trails off.
You tilt your head. Features twisted in question, you blink. “What people?”
You can’t help your laughter when his teasing stare slowly fades into a glower. “Like Cab Calloway, you mean? Yeah, he’s still cool.”
His sigh is heavy, lips struggling against another smile.
“Do you mean Steve?” you ask, voice higher pitched as it pinches in withheld giggles. “Miss that guy.”
A step in your direction. “No, I don’t mean Steve.”
“One of the other Commandos then?” you punctuate your question with a wink, a nod in sly understanding. But his budding grin falls as soon as you say, “That Gabe Jones? He was hot. Drew hearts all over his picture in my history textbook and everything.”
Your laughter grows louder as he walks right up to you, a dark look in the grey-blue of his eyes. “You’re such a fuckin’ little punk, I swear to—”
His name is hollered behind you. Voice higher than yours, lighter than yours. There’s an effortless joy to the way she says his name, to the way she races up the ramp to meet him halfway. She stands a few inches shorter than you do, but her smile stretches miles wider. She’s uncorrupted and bright, stares up at him with an unrivaled openness. Just like he deserves.
You don’t notice the way he continues to watch you, don’t notice the halfheartedness in the hug he barely manages to return.
But you smile at her when her eyes find you. She’d hesitated looking away from him. Didn’t want to tear her eyes away for even a second. It’s sweet as honey, and you hate her for it. “It’s good to see you.”
She says something back— something kind— and Sam approaches the three of you only to throw an arm around your shoulders, but Bucky’s only focused on your outstretched hand. Your eyebrows lifting when he only gapes back. “I can take my bag. You two probably wanna catch up.”
“No,” Bucky answers even as you manage to wrestle the bag away. He notes the narrowed look being sent to him from his left, but keeps his attention on you and Sam. “No, we have to debrief and—”
“I can handle it.” The reassurance he finds in your smile feels like a cold breath to aching lungs. A forest the morning after rainfall. It shifts to something tighter when your eyes lower to his left. “Have a nice night, you two.”
Sam and Bucky nod at one another as the latter passes. Soft fingers thread through those of vibranium, and their departing steps come with the low hum of hushed conversation. Bucky’s eyes meet yours before the elevator doors shut and cut the thread between you, and you exhale a burning breath from your tight posture and slump onto Sam’s shoulder.
Knowing, he asks, “Have a good mission?”
“Incredible,” your gaze is still fixed on the elevator, voice strained. Sam notices. He’s always noticed.
“In love with Bucky?”
You nod and meet his eyes. Deep brown— coffee-hued, coffee-warm. “Yeah.”
You used to find an empty gym blissful. A quiet space in a Tower that always bustled enough with laughter, and arguments, and life to echo in memoriam for months.
Those echoes began to linger like ghosts. Waiting for you behind every corner, refusing to be drowned out by the hum of a treadmill or the smack of a fist against a punching bag. So you played your music as loud as you could, you laughed at Sam’s jokes with all the joy in your body. Pulling it from your limbs, your fingertips, your toes.
In the morning it was as if you could see them in thick rays of carmine yellow when the sun shone in through the long wall of windows. And at night they rode along the sparkle of city lights. Often you asked FRIDAY to roll down the panels of blinds Tony never expected anyone to actually use, often you asked the AI to keep the overhead lights as bright as they could go. Hiding from shadows, from the sun like the moon and from the moon like the sun.
But you refuse to hide now. You refuse to muffle the echoes that sound like home. The sun shines on your back, your shadow dances against the wall.
Your heart aches in your chest, but it beats. Full and rhythmic.
“Haven’t heard from Peter in a while.”
Sam is sent a few centimeters back with the strength of your punch against the bag, shoes sliding over the smooth floor. He braces the bag tighter. “I know. It’s great.”
You level him with a plain look, lowering tired arms. “Sam.”
“Keep going,” he says. He waits until you assume your stance again to continue, “Happy’s keepin’ track of him.”
“Is anyone looking out for Wanda?” The angle of the next punch you throw is off, an ache splintering along your wrist. “She hasn’t called me back in a while.”
“She’s—” he sighs, allows you to relax for a minute when he lets go of the bag. “She’s hard to find if she doesn’t want to be found.”
You catch the roll of tape Sam tosses you, unraveling the mess around your knuckles. It’s an easy task, sweat wetting it loose. “So it’s just us three on the roster?”
“For most jobs.”
“Which means, hypothetically,” you begin— slow and easy, “if I said I was benching myself for a little while— that’d be a pretty big problem, huh?”
You meet gentle eyes when you look up. Watch him smile something adoring. “I don't know how long I’ve been asking you to take a break and now that you finally wanna take one— Ain’t a problem at all.”
“Barnes and I can handle the field.” He catches the tape you throw to him easily. “Did you attain enlightenment overnight?”
“In some ways,” you laugh. Shaking out your shoulders, you find your stance. “I’ve wanted to take a break for a while now. Since Berlin, maybe. I just kept waiting for the world to calm down enough or for something to force me into it. But then we got snapped away and— I need to do the things I want. Wanting them is a good enough reason to.”
“The world’s never going to calm down.”
“It can’t. And trying to make myself less of a person won’t ease the pain of that. I need to heal, which I can’t do if I keep acting like I’m not hurt.”
Sam stares at you silently for several moments. “Should we start paying your therapist more?”
Snorting, you throw a hard enough punch to force him into a stumble. “Make the check out to yourself. Your little support group’s been helping.”
“I’ve never seen you at—“
His mouth screws shut when you smile at him. “Baby, I’m a spy. You only ever see me when I want you to see me.”
“You creepy shit.”
You drop your stance to laugh, hands on your knees before you take a short leap and flick your fingers against Sam’s forehead. Screaming when he springs into action, you spin around immediately and run across the gym as fast as your feet can take you. Your words and laughter jumble together, “You called me creepy!”
“You fuckin’ are!” he shouts back, chuckling, too.
You face him once you’ve rounded the long line of treadmills, shifting from side to side just as Sam is. There’s a teasing glint in the brown of his eyes, his usual warmth omnipresent as the machines divide you. “Still shouldn’t say it! I don’t point out how— how—“
“How what?” he asks. He’s grinning as he takes off in the direction you decide on. “Can’t find jack shit to say. S’what happens when you’re fuckin’ perfect.”
“If you’re perfect,” you start, coming to a slow stop when Sam is only a few feet from catching you, “then I really did attain all enlightenment last night and am now Buddha.”
You emphasize your point by placing your hands in abhayamudrā and shutting your eyes for less than a second. You open them in time to see him lunge for you and are only able to whirl around before he wraps a strong arm around your waist to lift you from the ground. Your gasp easily fades into a laughing scream, breath knocked from you.
“Is this kinda workout not available for anyone else, Sam?”
Sam sets you down, still chuckling as the door comes to a slow close behind Bucky. “I’d throw my fuckin’ back out trying to pick you up.”
Bucky, short hair damp from a long run, snorts but nods a moment later. “Yeah, fair enough. Hi, sweetheart.”
“Hi, Buck,” is your grinned response. It glows in pink and red, loving and bright. He can almost taste chalky heart-shaped candy.
“Haven’t seen you since Kyiv.”
Sam leaves the two of you to gather his water bottle, phone, and headphones from the bench closest to your punching bag and you shrug, smiling at Sam when he nods, supportive. “Yeah, I’ve—“
“Been busy?” Bucky guesses. He lets his eyes run along your profile. The slope of your nose, the length of your eyelashes. The smile still comfortably on your lips, reaching the subtly creased corners of your eyes.
You shake your head and meet the curious blue watching you. “Not really. I’ve been around. Doing paperwork, training, —“
“Being creepy as hell,” Sam interjects, passing you to the door. His eyes are narrowed.
“Building sets,” you amend to Bucky. Door shutting behind Sam, you call, “I’ll see you in your dreams tonight, Sam. There’s no hiding.”
You can hear his laughter even as he walks down the hall, smiling to yourself at the sound.
“What’s that about?”
“Apparently hiding in the shadows during his support group meetings is frowned upon,” you snort. “Go figure.”
“He just doesn’t know how to take a compliment.”
Sighing, you nod. “You always get me.”
Warmth blooms in your chest at his chuckles, his small grin.
Going to Kyiv felt like coming home.
Riding alongside Bucky in the Quinjet, laughing and holding his stare a little too long, felt like home.
Seeing him now, smiling at you with that same playfulness in his eyes and comfort easing his posture, feels like home.
A home with a foundation you can strengthen by acting purposefully. Intending to choose Bucky and doing so over and over.
He nods. He’s rolling tape onto his knuckles, placing his phone on the bench as you sit. “Hm?”
You pick at the tape around your own hand, peeling it slowly. “I kinda— I wanted to talk to you about something.”
It’s silent for a few beats. Long enough that he looks over his shoulder, eyes kind and questioning, before he turns to face you completely. He smiles and whatever bricks remain of that terrible wall your heart had spent months clawing at crumble away.
He’s so handsome. So sweet, so kind, so understanding—
It pours from your mouth on the notes of a quick exhale, “I love you.”
His smile falls and that little wrinkle between his eyebrows deepens.
“I’m in love with you. And I know you’re— That you have someone and I think she’s great. I’m really so happy for you.” You hope your smile is as green as you intend for it to be. “And I don’t want to blow it up by saying something I probably have no right to say but— I've been losing my mind holding this in. I need to do right by myself and by you and finally be honest.”
He’s still silent, still staring. He looks like he’s expecting you to say more. Unmoving, unsure.
You stand, thick band of orange tape hanging off your palm. “That’s all.”
“I don’t—“ his voice stutters as miserably as the heart in his chest.
“You don’t have to say anything.” You jab your thumb in the direction of the door. “Morgan’s got me on a tight schedule so— So I’m gonna go.”
Bucky’s pacing. Cockpit to his locker, his locker to the cockpit. His boots barely make a sound, steps so light Sam is scared out of his mind every time he hears a heavy sigh just inches away.
It’s been days of this. Watching Bucky pace, hearing him sigh like the weight of the world is compressing his lungs. He’s lost several slices of pizza to Bucky’s insistence that he’s not hungry only to practically inhale everything Sam’s ordered for himself. He’s lost hours of sleep to knocks on his door at three AM, because Bucky needs to ask about the plan again.
What’s the strategy? Who’s rescuing the hostages? How much are they willing to negotiate? Are they willing to negotiate at all? Is it true a cat took Fury’s eye?
Frankly, Sam’s had enough.
But he’s resolved to not interfere. It’s not his business.
But it’s been three fucking days. “If you sigh one more fucking time, Barnes, —”
“Sorry.” Nonetheless, Bucky sighs again. Falls into the co-pilot’s seat, leg bouncing and thumbs twiddling. “Sorry. I wasn’t— I thought we had another two days before coming back. It’s throwin’ me off.”
“Thought it was a good thing to wrap shit up early,” Sam mumbles. His gaze remains focused beyond the windshield. “Get a nice break. I can make it to Morgan’s play, you can see your girl. Maybe take a fuckin’ nap.”
“We—” another sigh. Sam might put his foot through the jet’s damn wall if this keeps going. “I ended that. I couldn’t pretend to be available to her when— when—”
“When the girl you love said she loves you.”
Humorless chuckle, and he shakes his head once. He should’ve known you’d tell Sam. “Well, yeah. But I ended it the night we got back from Kyiv.”
The way Bucky says your name— like something so soft and precious, almost intimate— makes Sam think it’s wrong for him to even hear. “It felt too good to be around her again, felt like I was cheating. And that day in the gym, when she said she— I didn’t know what to say.”
“I don’t think she expected you to say anything.”
“Sam, she ran off last time. When shit started to get real, she pushed me as far away as she could and ran off.”
“I can’t promise you anything. But the change I’ve seen in that girl,” he shakes his head. So much for none of his business. “She’s takin’ a break from work, letting herself be a person. She lights up at someone even mentioning you and brings you up whenever she can. She’s different now and wouldn’t have told you what she did if she was plannin’ on running off.”
Bucky’s leg stops bouncing, but his thumbs still knot together. The vibranium plates of his left palm pinch his delicate skin. Voice rough as gravel, “Still fuckin’ scary.”
“Yeah. Shit works out sometimes, though.”
“You know, there’s no shame in saying ‘no.’”
“Yeah? Did that get you here?”
You look up from the student in the seat placed before yours and meet Pepper’s gaze. Her eyes sparkle in humor, her smile poorly hidden. She nods toward your hand, covered in stray flecks of face paint and makeup, and then at the sponge you’re using to spread white paint.
“I don’t count,” you press. You get back to work, holding Keith’s face in one hand to get the white paint as close to his ear as possible. “I’m not her mom. And I like doing makeup. Especially Keith’s.”
Keith grins at you, chubby cheeks blown wide when you wrinkle your nose at him. Dipping a thin brush into a pot of black paint, you nod at him. “Okay, no more smiling. Your spots will look weird if you do.”
He nods back and immediately drops his smile, letting loose a single giggle at his own abruptness. He peeks at you with a teasing green eye and looks away as soon as you gasp.
You smile to yourself as you outline a series of black spots. One or two on each cheek, one around his right eye. “You can’t let Morgan throw an after party. She’s a kindergartener. You can’t start letting them throw after parties until, like, third grade. Gotta set boundaries.”
“And you know this from all the kids you’ve parented.”
“I don’t have kids,” you reply, tongue poking through your lips in concentration as you fill the spots using a new sponge. “None that I know of, at least. I’m just a genius. Keith, I need you to hold still if you want to be the cutest little cow this school has ever seen.”
He stops wiggling and Pepper snorts. “He looks like a dalmatian.”
“A cute dalmatian.” Once the spots are filled, you paint on a small pink nose and allow him to place the headband with floppy cow ears into his chestnut hair. “Those beans better be worth their weight in gold.”
He straightens the white and black crewneck sweatshirt he wears and turns to the mirror, grinning at his reflection and bursting into laughter. “I’m a cow!”
“You are!” you cheer back, laughing with Pepper when he moo’s as loud as he can. He hops out of the chair and onto his feet. “Be careful, you’re not fully dry yet! How much you wanna bet he’s gonna fuck up his makeup before the show can even start?”
“I’ll put more on you getting caught cursing before the show can start,” Pepper says with a roll of her eyes. She sits in the seat Keith had occupied, the wood creaking under an adult’s weight, as she helps you clean the sponges and brushes. “I know Morgan hasn’t said it yet— she was planning on making a speech at her after party— but we appreciate how much you’ve been helping.”
“It’s no big deal.” You look to the mirror and take a cleansing wipe to the streak of white on your forehead. “I’m trying to take a break from avenging and haven’t really found other things to do yet. This was a nice way to get out of the Tower.”
Pepper hums. “Morgan’s got a whole thing about how her favorite Auntie Avenger saves the day and the show.”
You cock an eyebrow. “Maybe you should let her have this party.”
She barks a sarcastic laugh and stands when she hears a shrill “Mom!” shouted across the backstage area. “Try to hold the ‘fucks’ in.”
One more swipe across your forehead to fully clear it of white paint, and you sigh to yourself at the creaking of the chair. “In those five seconds, I managed to hold the fucks in—”
Blue eyes— so soft, so gentle and kind— watch you expectantly. He waits for you to focus on him, pays little attention to the relaxing of your grip and the package of wipes which falls to the floor as a result. A small smile, one he can’t help, begins to pull at his lips. “Hi, sweetheart.”
“Hi, Buck.” The silence which settles over the two of you is comfortable, broken when you reach to pick up a brush. “Did you need your makeup done?”
He shakes his head.
“Well, backstage is cast and crew only,” you pout playfully and grin when his shoulders shake in a silent chuckle.
“I guess I don’t have long to say this.”
He sits up straighter, drags his hands— metal and flesh alike— down the lap of his dark jeans. He rehearsed what to say on the drive over, asked Sam if what he wanted to say was too blunt. Asked if he should add a preamble of some kind, maybe a disclaimer that he hasn’t had a grip on his mind or heart for months.
He can’t remember any of it now that you stare at him from that canvas and wooden chair, blinking owlishly and looking at him with so much love it steals the breath right from his lungs.
“I— I forgot everything I wanted to say.”
“That’s okay. Take your time.” You lean in and he feels himself pitch toward you as well. At your smile he feels the softness of velvet, the comfort of lavender. “If anyone tries to kick you out, I’ll fight ‘em. I’ll fight a kindergartener.”
He laughs, loud and bright. “Fight a kid, huh? You must really love me.”
He watches you sober, he watches you choose him.
Your grin shrinks to something pink and you take as deep a breath as you can. You nod. “Yeah, Bucky, I do.”
He hums, he chooses you, too. “So do I.”
“I love you. And I’ve wanted to tell you everyday since you took me to that café.”
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KNEE SOCKS- J.B BARNES
Pairing: Lumberjack!Buckyx Female!Reader
Word Count: 1.9k
Summary: You’re Buckys favourite thing to come home to after a long day at work.
Warnings: swearing, pet names, SMUT, size kink, daddy kink, fingering, praise kink, butt plug, choking, aftercare FILTH
Note** based off the song knee socks by arctic monkeys! also Buck is 6′5 and solid muscle lol enjoy:)))
The timer went off, the beeping noise echoing throughout the kitchen as you scurried over to open the oven. Flour was scattered all across the kitchen counter, mixing bowls and spoons pilled in the sink. You had got the urge to make chocolate chip cookies, hoping to surprise Bucky before he came back from work with his favorite dessert.
You always tried to give him little gifts every now and then, spoil him as he did to you. As the sky turned from a dusty shade of pink to a dark shade of blue, the sun setting for the day and the moon arising to take its shift, you hummed along to Arctic Monkeys and combined ingredients. After the dough had sat, you had placed in it the oven, praying Bucky wouldn't be home until they were ready.
Now here you were, taking the perfectly golden brown desserts out of the oven, just as the door slammed shut. Perfect timing indeed! You hummed in content, knowing your boyfriend was finally home after a long day at work.
Bucky worked himself to death. You had constantly told him he worked too hard, he was always finding something to do or fix.
It's to make your life better kitten he would always say, going back to whatever project he was working on for the house after he’d come home from logging wood all day. Hell, he had even built the cozy little cottage the two of you lived in now from scratch.
It puzzled your mind if you thought about it too hard, wondering why exactly he did all of this for YOU. The least you could do was give him little gifts now and then, and make him happy by obeying him when he told or asked you something. You couldn't make a whole cottage from scratch, but you sure as hell could make really really good cookies.
A coat was placed on the rack, and you heard him take off his boats, placing them by the door that you had painted a dusty shade of red when he first built it. Footsteps echoed across the chestnut floor as you plated the cookies, setting the plate on the counter.
Bucky's tall, bulky frame stepped into the kitchen, rolling up his flannel sleeves. You giggled in content, happy to see your boy as you ran into his arms. He laughed as he picked you up in his strong arms, twirling you around in circles. Your laughter filled the room as he set you down, his sparkling baby blues looking down to meet yours.
“Guess what!” you whispered, edging him on. '` What?!” his eyes widened in fake surprise, mocking you.
“ I baked you cookies.” You grabbed his hand in yours leading him over to the counter. “ Oh kitten you should have.” he chuckled, grabbing one and popping it in his mouth. He closed his eyes and moaned as he chewed and you giggled. “ It tastes so good.” he grumbled, mouth full of cookie.
You smiled, wrapping your arms around him like a koala. He grabbed your thighs and lifted you up, setting you on the kitchen island, running his fingers through your hair.
“ I missed you so much daddy.” you giggled, reaching up to play with his dog tags that gleamed on his broad chest. “ Mmm missed me huh?” he leaned down, nipping and sucking along your neck as you tilted it back, giving him better access. A hushed whimper escaped your throat, the sensations making wetness seep down between your thighs.
It didn't go unnoticed by Bucky.
Nothing ever got past him.
“ Missed me so much you decided to wear my flannel and those pretty lil knee socks hmm?” he whispered in your ear, tugging on it as you mewled. “Y-yes daddy.” you reached up, running your fingers through his dark, long black locks that tickled your neck. Your breaths were coming in pants as he placed his hands on your thighs, slowly edging them open.
He hummed in contempt as he saw your slick smeared across your inner thighs from clenching them so tightly together. “Ne-need-” you couldn't even form a coherent sentence as he began to trace his knuckles across your inner thighs back and forth, edging you from the spot you desperately needed his touch the most.
“ Need what kitten? You gotta tell daddy what you want or else daddy can't make you feel good. Use your big girl words.” he cooed, and you nearly cried as he came so close to your center, then stroked his knuckles away yet again.
“ Need you to play with me down- down there!” you moaned as he parted your legs even farther apart.
“ Awh baby you want daddy to play with your lil button?” he mocked, running a finger up your slit and you arched your back, clinging onto him like a vice. “ So swollen and pretty baby. So needy for me.” he tsked, slipping his finger into your entrance and began to rub your sensitive nub with the pad of his thumb.
A cheshire cat-like grin appeared on his face as your breaths came in shallow gasps and began to claw at his shoulders, clinging onto him for dear life.
“ Shhhh I know I know honey.” he whispered sweetly, finger pumping into you, the wet sounds emitting from you turning you on even more. “ Daddy has to stretch out your little hole first before I can stuff you honey. You're doing so good for me.” he cooed, rubbing your clit faster in circles and you keened.
“ Daddy please I need to cum!” you gasped, tugging his hair gently and he growled. His fingers pumped into you quicker and your thighs began to shake. “ Cum for daddy pretty.” he whispered and you gushed all over his fingers. He removed his finger gently, your juices coating it.
He licked it clean, as you came down from your high, chanting his name, thighs shaking as you gripped onto him. “Mgmh Daddy it still tingles.” you croaked, voice hoarse from screaming his name.
“ I know kitten. Daddys gonna make it feel all better pretty girl don't you worry.” he sang, unbuckling his jeans and freeing his throbbing cock. Your mouth watered at the sight as he began to stroke himself gently, pushing you back so you laid against the kitchen island on your back.
Bucky began unbuttoning your flannel, and you shivered with anticipation against the cool marble counter top. “Such a naughty little kitty not wearing any panties and no bra.” he tsked, his large hands cupping your breasts, flicking each nipple. Goosebumps formed on your skin, and you arched your back into his touch as he leaned down to suck and nibble on each breast, leaving bite marks that would last for days.
“ Wanted to be ready for you daddy, wanted to be your good little girl and be your little hole-” you were cut off with a growl and a thrust into you. A cry left your throat as he bottomed out into you slowly. You clawed at his back, looking up at him innocently.
“ You're my little hole baby? Wanna be my little sex toy, my fuck hole yeah? Something I can abuse till you cry?” he asked, and you moaned at his words.
“ Yes daddy. Please just want you to use me it tingles I need-” He pulled out slightly and snapped back into you and you screamed as he began to thrust into you, hard and fast.
“ Then that's what you'll get, baby. God you're so tight and warm.” he growled, his hand wrapping around your throat.
Your moans filled the room as he pounded into you with no mercy, the sound of skin slapping skin consuming your ears. Tears began to fall across your cheeks and he chuckled, his eyes filled with pure lust staring down at you. “ You’re so pretty when you cry kitty.” You wailed as he tightened his grip around your neck slightly. The pleasure was making you dizzy. It was beginning to get too much. Your eyes focused on his dog tags, snapping against his chest with each thrust. You reached your head up, tugging on them with your teeth and he moaned at the sight.
“ You gonna cum baby?” he taunted and you nodded frantically, choked moans muffled from the metal in your mouth.
“ Go on, pretty girl.”
You snapped. White hot pleasure washed over you, your eyes rolling back. Your whole body began to shake from pleasure, stars filling your vision. Your juices coated his dick, spraying up and hitting his chest and he growled.
“ Yeah that's it dolly milk my cock. Goin cum with ya.”
He thrusts began to get sloppy, hips stuttering as his seed filled you up. Pants sounded the room as the two of you came down from your highs, your thighs still shaking uncontrollably. Your ears were ringing as he let go of your throat, stroking your tear stained cheeks gently as he pulled out slowly. Cum spilled down your thighs and onto the counter as Bucky fixed himself and buttoned his jeans back up, grabbing a towel from the closet to clean you up with.
“ You with me my kitty?” he whispered, gently wiping the towel across your slit and you gasped, the sensation making you feel fuzzy.
“ I know I know she’s sensitive baby I’m sorry I gotta clean her up.” he murmured, stroking your cunt softly. You mewled, and he set the towel to the side. “ Your pussy is so pretty baby. So so pretty and tight for me.”
You reached your arms up towards him, like a kid begging for their mom to pick them up. He chuckled, picking you up gently, setting you in his lap as he sat on the couch. “ Was I good for you daddy?” you whispered as he stroked your hair softly.
“ Such a good girl for me baby. I’m so proud of you.”
You giggled as he kissed the top of your head, and you snuggled into his chest, embracing his warmth. His arms caged you in, protecting you from the world. “ Baby?”
“Hmm?” you mumbled, sleep threatening to wash over you.
“ I got you something today.”
Your eyes widened and you sat up suddenly. Bucky smiled as he lifted you off him and onto the couch, standing up. He disappeared to the front hall, reaching into his work bag. He trotted back over to the couch, and your eyes widened.
A plug. A little jewel adorned at the end of it, and it shimmered in the pale light.
You met Bucky's loving gaze, and a smile broke out across his face as he patted his knee. You scrambled up, draping yourself across his lap with your ass in the air. You closed your eyes in anticipation as he began to rub and kneed your cheeks slowly, spreading them gently.
“ Daddy is gonna put this in your little hole as a reward, okay princess? You’ve been so good for me.”
You hummed softly, the sound of lube being applied to the toy. A gasp escaped your throat as his thumb circled your hole, then placed the toy in carefully. You moaned as it slid in, filling you up. “ So pretty.” he murmured, slapping your ass and you jolted at the feeling. You shook your ass teasingly, a deep chuckling leaving Bucky's lips. He stroked your cheeks, the occasional smack making you whimper.
“ Don’t worry baby. Daddys gonna fill you up real soon.”
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Early Morning Plans
Summary: Bucky only needs a few things to survive being snowed in for the weekend. You. Pancakes. You. A warm fire. And more of you. Wrapped all around him.
Pairing: Beefy Lumberjack Bucky x reader
Warnings: Smut, teasing, oral (fem receiving), cockwarming, 6'5" Bucky. Thigh-high socks. Praise kink.
Word Count: 1.6K.
a/n: Sinday drabble #1. Unbeta'd.
Bucky Barnes is having a very good morning. And you, well you're having an incredible one all because of him and his insatiable appetite.
“I can’t, come- oh fuck, please,” you slurred, fingers twisted his thick brunette locks. You’ve been begging him for what feels like hours. “Please Bucky, Ican’tIcan't-oh god,” you choke out, your words stumbling over the moan in your throat.
Taking a deep cool breath in, your back arches off the bed and you nearly twist away. In the midst of your frantic thrashing, you get a glimpse of your beefy lumberjack and your pleasure spikes at the sight of him enjoyjng himself.
Cheerful blue eyes gaze up at you, a thin rim of blue surrounds his lust-blown pupils, his hair mussed from your hands, a damp lock of it curls across his forehead, his tongue continuing to worship you.
You don’t know what’s driving you more insane, the fact that he’s moaning as he devours your pussy or his little happy hums whenever you cry out his name.
You teeter between wanting him to give you a reprieve and for him to do that thing with the tip of his tongue again. Bucky has learned your body inside and out and he can tell you’re close, he mumbles something that sounds vaguely like good girl, I know Bunny, you’re almost there aren’t you, I got you Bunny, I got you.
Then he does the thing. That sinful fucking thing with his tongue that makes you cry out and your vision blur.
Teasing you. Riling you up. And just when a please is scrambling out of your mouth, he moves faster.
Faster and faster and oh fuck even faster. His pink, wet tongue gliding over your pulsating clit punishing and worshiping at all once. He’s just tossed you off the edge of a cliff into an ocean of sensations, his wet, warm mouth kissing your pussy vulgarly, drawing out every ounce of pleasure from your body.
But it’s not enough, Bucky’s so damn greedy for you, he twists two large fingers inside you and glides them along that sensitive spot that makes you see stars, your stomach swoops to the ground, your eyes snap shut and a hot rush of pleasure implodes within you, scattering across your limbs, your head feels airy. Your mouth goes slack, nothing comes out, but you feel as if you’re screaming. Are you making that noise that’s echoing around the room? Fuck, you don’t know. You don’t care.
Bucky lifts his head when you go limp on the bed. Patting your swollen, throbbing pussy with his large calloused hand, he surveys his handiwork with pride, licking his fingers one by one. There’s something about eating you until you can’t move that he can’t get enough of. He lets out another one of his happy hums followed by a soft chuckle. “You good Bunny?”
You take in another deep breath and try to lift your head. Nope. Not happening. You don’t bother attempting to speak instead, you give him a weak thumbs up.
“Yeah, you’re good. Me too. Thank you, Bunny, that hit the spot, you have no idea how good that was for me.” He preens, the smug tone in his voice washing over you. “I’m going to make breakfast. I feel like waffles. No pancakes. You want some?" He tilts his head waiting for your response, rubbing his thumb across his bottom lip, he watches you shiver on the rumbled sheets. “I’ll take that as a yes.”
Bucky saunters over the window, wiping the condensation off the snow-covered glass. Outside, a thin layer of frost coats the yard and surrounding forest, the sun peeks through the cloudy gray sky. He can tell by the darkening horizon that a snowstorm is approaching which means you’re both going to be cooped up inside all day.
“It’s going to be a good day.” He leans down, planting his hands beside your head, his lips slot over yours for a slow, sweet kiss. His tongue flickers across your bottom lip in an intricate pattern, a playful reminder of what he just did to you. Another soft chuckle rumbles in his chest after you tremble.
Bucky peers down at your pussy, his lips tugging up into a smirk. "I’ll be back for you. Get some rest. I know I wore you out.” The way he talks about your pussy, so sweet and possessive, is another thing about your man that you love.
You hear him leave the bedroom, your body wracked with the aftershocks of his deviant mouth. He did wear you out, was that four or five orgasms this morning?
You lost count after the third, yawning you stretch your arms across the pillows and fall into a sated slumber. The savory scents of breakfast float through the cabin and break through your hazy dreams.
Rolling yourself over, you crawl to the edge of the California king bed, your toes barely graze the cold hardwood floor before you’re pulled across the sheets. Letting out a shocked squeal, your back hits his warm chest, his chin settling on your shoulder.
“Where do you think you’re going?”
Hiding your grin, you look over at him innocently. “I was going to get dressed and then-”
He scoffs, turning you around, his large hands grab your hips and push you on the bed. Bucky shrugs off his red and black checkered flannel, draping it over your shoulders.
“The only thing you’re wearing is my shirt,” he tells you as he heads to the dresser. You slide your arms into the sleeves and roll up the sleeves to your elbows. His body is blocking your view, but you can tell by the way he’s hunched over that he’s rummaging through one of the lingerie drawers. “And these.”
Bucky holds up a pair of sheer black diamond-patterned thigh highs-one of his favorites and he grins down at you.
He kneels before you and you can’t lie, seeing your 6’5” man on his knees for you, knowing he only does this for you makes you feel special and cherished.
His large hands that can rip apart logs gently hold your leg up and he slides the first sock up your calf and over your thigh, straightening the band with his fingers.
It's erotic the way he’s handling you with such care, more of his hair falling across his forehead, his head bent between your knees. You sweep your hand across his face, gathering the stray strands, raking your fingers through his hair, the scent of your shampoo wafting up. Bucky pauses, letting you push his silky locks back in place, peppering chaste kisses along your calf until you’re done. “Thank you, Bunny.”
When he gets the sock across your other thigh, his thumbs trace over the stretch marks there. His eyes flicker up to you and he sighs. “You gotta stop tempting me,” he grumbles roguishly, making you giggle. “How am I supposed to get anything done when you’re out showing off your pretty little pussy and your soft perfect thighs? Huh?”
Your mouth falls open. “Me? This is my fault? Are you serious-Bucky!”
He slides his arm under you, swinging you into his arms as he stands to his full height, the effortless way he picks you steals your breath. You’ll never get used to how small he makes you feel.
“Yes, you. I was a humble, piteous quiet man before you came into my life, getting me addicted to you.” He retorts, carrying you down the hall. He shrugs off your reply that he chased you, blaming it all on your-excuse you Bunny she belongs to me thank you very much. I think you mean my-pussy.
Mornings like this filled with a light, cheerful banter, his love covering you like a warm knitted blanket, seeping into your skin until he’s seamlessly ingrained into your heart, is what you live for. Bucky places you on top of the table, next to the bundle of beautiful wildflowers he picked the night before, saving a few more batches before the frost could destroy them.
He heads to the stove, checking on his pancakes warming in the pan. You smile softly at the bouquet, you get a similar one every morning, the bow on it askew despite his best efforts.
Unlike prior boyfriends, Bucky truly enjoys giving you presents, anything from the flowers you adore to the bookcase that he keeps filled with all of your favorite authors, he gets joy from your happiness and he’s always finding new ways to make your face light up.
You part your thighs, leaning back on your elbows, excitement thrums inside you like a live wire. He’s predictable and honestly, you love it. You always know what you’re going to get from him. Consistency, faithfulness, and love. Gifts for no reason. And early morning orgasms.
Bucky glances over his shoulder, his lips curling up. “Good girl,” he says, scrunching his nose at you. He strolls over a full plate in one hand, his other one loosening his grey sweatpants. They fall to his feet with a soft swish and your mouth goes bone dry when his cock springs loose, hitting his stomach.
Bucky plops down on the chair, putting the plate beside you. His gigantic hands grasp your waist and he brings you over his cock. The swollen red leaking tip pushes at your entrance, your walls clenching down in anticipation of being stretched.
Bucky observes your face closely, he rolls his hips up slowly slowly slowly filling your cunt, each thick veiny inch adding to the intensely pleasurable burn, your hands gripping his shoulders as you struggle to take all of him.
His murmured praises, good girl, there ya go, take it Bunny, rings in your ear until you’re finally seated. Bucky eases you back until you’re resting partially on the table, his brilliant blue eyes staring down at your joined bodies.
"Fuck you like so pretty wrapped around my cock."
Taking the fork, he precedes to feed you his famous pancakes dripping in his homemade syrup.
In between bites, you ask what he wants to do for the rest of the day, he merely laughs and kisses your sugary sweet lips. “Bunny, the only I’m planning on doing is keeping you warm and happy and stuffed.”
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Y/N: Everybody has somebody, Tony and Pepper, the President and the First Lady, you guys have your weird thing..
Y/N: I just wish I had someone, y'know?
Natasha, who has tried to ask Y/N out five times already: You've got to be fucking kidding me.
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drunk- b. barnes
pairings: bucky barnes x reader, natasha romanoff, wanda maximoff, sam wilson
warnings: alcohol, being drunk, being hungover, embarrassment?
about: request (DF31) “maybe if you stop staring at her and actually talk to her, you might have a chance.”+(DN43) “what did you just say?”
a/n: this took so long, i’m so sorry, thank you so much for being patient, i hope you enjoy! i didn’t do the other part of the request just because i don’t think i could write that with it coming out well and legible, so i apologize for that!
you look pretty.
it’s not like it’s anything unusual, you always look pretty, no matter if you're in the terrifyingly expensive floor-length stain gowns or in one of the shirts you'd stolen from him or steve or sam.
but there's just something about the carefree laugh you're gracing him with right now that makes you glow like the stars he saw in the dates in the desert that he’d plan.
you're not dressed in anything particularly spectacular but you look the part, with wisps of hair falling over your face and a beaming smile that makes him sport one of his own.
you're talking to natasha and steve, eyes shining when natasha deadpans something, and you burst out in beautiful laughter, a hand reaching to grasp steve's arm that makes an ugly spark of jealousy urge bucky to take his eyes off of you. but he doesn't, because even though you're touching his best friend and not him, you're magnetic; a light to the moths that are his attention.
you recover, crinkled eyes accompanying the remark you make that makes steve and natasha laugh. in turn, you look on proudly, visibly feeding off of the laughter you’d caused.
bucky is staring, a little starstruck as he observes you move with such effortless beauty.
“maybe if you stop staring at her and actually talk to her, you might have a chance,” a voice startles from next to him. it makes bucky peel his attention off of you and onto the person that had managed to sneak up on him through the daze of you he was stuck in. sam stands from bucky’s side, a raised eyebrow observing him as bucky lets an unbothered facade fall over his features, trying his hardest to clean away the lovestruck look that had brightened his eyes and pulled at his lips.
“‘dunno what you’re talkin’ about,” bucky shrugs, reluctantly turning to sam completely. sam exhales annoyedly, cocking his head to the side as his chin juts up and down in exasperated understanding.
“uh huh,” he replies, tongue poking through his cheek as he eyes you. “so why’re you starin’ at her so intensely?”
bucky purses his lips, “not intensely.”
sam grins in a way that lets bucky know he messed up, “so you were staring?”
bucky looks back at him tiredly, “not staring.”
“tell that to your face.”
“that’s just how my face is.”
“uh huh. so what you’re tellin’ me right now is that you aren’t interested in y/n?” sam asks.
bucky’s eyebrows pinch together, scanning the look on sam’s face as he thinks over his reply.
“yeah,” he says finally, “not interested.” he lies.
“so it’s not a problem if thor asks her out?”
sam’s words make bucky’s facade crack a little, but he forces a shrug anyway, even through the clenched jaw that sam is smirking at. “not a problem.”
“tell that to your face.”
“hey, buck,” you greet with a smile, settling into the couch next to him. he doesn’t fail to notice the way your thigh is pressed to his, although you don’t seem to give it too much thought as you look up at the television, sucking a drop of something sweet off of your thumb. you jut out a small bowl of sliced mango, pink with chamoy and doused in lime and chili, “want some?”
there’s barely a pause before he responds, but it seems too long for you, a pout forming on your lips, you shake the bowl enticingly, “c’mon, i spent ten minutes on it and everything, i swear it’s good.”
because the mango looks really good--and a little because bucky can’t bring himself to deny anything you offer--bucky gives in, two hesitant fingers reaching in your bowl to push a little cube of mango into his mouth. he hums when he tastes it, much more interested in the proud look on your face after you hear him. “you like it?”
“yeah,” bucky says a little breathlessly, observing the bright grin that overcomes your face.
“well, i can make you some whenever you want,” you offer, taking some mango for yourself and setting the bowl in between you two. bucky takes another piece mostly for the opportunity to see that look on your face again.
a few episodes of whatever it was bucky was watching pass by until your phone vibrates, the bowl of cut fruit empty on the table in front of you and bucky. you open it, humming to yourself before meeting bucky’s eyes.
“nat says we’re going out to some new bar today. all of us, i think. d’you wanna come?” you ask.
“are you going?” bucky asks, holding back a cringe when he realizes it sounds exactly like what it is, but you don’t seem to mind, a small smile on your lips instead when you confirm.
“oh. sure,” bucky says then, too busy observing you to concentrate on not being as obvious as he is.
“i gotta get ready, then,” you say, bouncing off the couch and heading for the elevator, “i’ll see you there, buck!”
“can’t wait, doll,” bucky half-lies.
bucky isn’t completely sure how you got so drunk.
he’d seen you at the bar, caught glimpses of you ordering drinks with natasha and wanda, declining and occasionally accepting others from guys that buy them for you between the conversations steve and sam drag him into. it’s almost frustrating pretending like the reason he came to this party was the drinks and dancing and not you.
early into the night, he manages to evade steve enough to meet you again, clearly tipsy as you stumble, a lazy grin on your face when you look up at him. “bucky!” you cheer, heading towards him, “hold my drink,” you instruct, handing him what you’d just been drinking. he immediately places his palm over the opening of it, holding it closer to him while you search for something in your bag. “aha!” you hurrah, pulling out a lip gloss. you apply it with a pop before you put it back, looking back at him until your eyes suddenly get caught on something and you dig into your bag again.
“what?” bucky wonders, an insecure hand reaching up to his cheek.
you ignore him, and with another aha, you present him with a small wipe, leaning close enough to him that he can smell your newly applied lip gloss. you wipe gently at his cheek until you’re satisfied, then pull at something on his shirt, “glitter,” you shrug, “such a hassle to get off.”
you ask for your drink again and continue mindlessly chatting with him, ignoring all advancements made on you as if they were never made in the first place until sam finds bucky again, pulling him away because he apparently just has to meet this guy. bucky grumbles while sam drags him away, promising to meet up with you again soon while you nod, sipping from your glass.
it’s not until he can finally get away from his friends again that he really sees you again.
your words are slurred together, a sheen covering your whole body that makes it seem like you’re shining in the lights of the bar. you’re warm, the heat from the hands you suddenly cup his jaw with startling bucky. excited, glittering eyes scan over his face, a wide grin taking over your face. you’re so open, words and wandering hands without the usual filter that would stop you from telling bucky how great his arms looked in that shirt that day or tucking that stray piece of hair behind his ear.
“you’re so pretty,” you murmur, unfiltered honesty in the way you look up at him with a distraught smile, attention never straying from him, as if you couldn’t stop staring at him and soaking him up. your pointer finger is tucked behind his chin and you press your thumb into the little cleft at his chin, eyes rising back to his. “you’re so pretty,” you repeat, “i want you to be my boyfriend.”
bucky knows you’re drunk, but he can’t stop the way his breath gets caught in his throat at your declaration. the hope that bubbles up in his stomach is shoved back just as soon in an effort to remain realistic.
“‘s why i always look at you and sit right next to you in the couch. so our thighs touch an’ ev’rything’,” you confess cluelessly, “why won’t you be my boyfriend, bucky?” you whine, a pout on your lips as you suddenly let go of his face and let your head drop against his chest. he can feel the warmth of your forehead through his shirt and hear your unintelligible babbles about him.
you begin to reach for the cup in his hand, but he draws it further away from you, a hand holding your hip so you don’t chase after it--not that you really could without falling flat on your face at the moment, “‘think you’ve had enough, doll.”
your shoulder slump at his words, a groan slipping past your lips as you go to press yourself against him again. “how d’you expect me not to fall in love with you when you say things like that?” you cry.
love echoes in his brain, almost as if to alert him. did you hear that?
“what--what did you just say?” he asks dazedly.
you ignore him, “callin’ me doll and dove and holdin’ my things and treatin’ me like a princess. god, bucky, why aren’t you my boyfriend? do you not like me?” you whimper, the liquor in your system making you go through a rollercoaster of emotions that brings tears to your eyes. “why don’t you like me? i cut fruit up for you and make sure tony buys that detergent you like.”
“i don’t-- i didn’t--”
shiny tears fall down your cheeks as you shove your face into his chest, and bucky goes to put your cup on the bar, leaving both hands free to hold you while you cry. “okay, baby, think it’s time to go home.”
the unintentional nickname makes you cry a little harder, drunkenly strung together words telling him how unfair you think everything is.
bucky motions to the bartender to put everything on tony’s tab as he nearly carries you to the space where the rest of the team was, unsurprised to find everyone dispersed. he spots wanda and nat talking to each other at a table, and he makes his way over there with you in front of him, firm hands around your waist guiding you and arms keeping away any elbows or limbs that threaten to touch or trip you.
they hear you before they see you, your squeals at seeing them too loud to ignore.
“nat! wan!” you exclaim excitedly, their names dragged out.
“you’re drunk,” natasha observes with an amused raise of her eyebrow.
“very drunk,” bucky adds, “are you guys heading home yet? i think it’s time for her to go back.”
“not yet,” natasha shrugs, “this girl has been checking me out all night, and i think it’s time to act on it.” then, turning to wanda, “what about you?”
wanda shakes her head, “i have to make sure pietro won’t die of alcohol poisoning.”
“why don’t you take her?” natasha asks.
“uh…” bucky remembers the feel of your hands on his cheeks, lips so close they would be touching if you moved a millimeter, the drunk confessions of love falling from your lips. “don’t think she’d really let me drive.”
you’re hanging off his arm and nuzzled in his chest, cheek against his bicep, a large smile on your face.
“clingy,” natasha states, “which is strange… considering there are many avengers to hang off of but she chose you.” a knowing smirk pulls at her lips, and it doesn’t go away when bucky sends her a look. “it’ll be fine,” she says after a pause, “just make sure to put on her seatbelt.”
“goodnight,” wanda tells you, and you repeat her words without a thought, too busy telling her something about bucky. he hears the word boyfriend again and a red flushes his cheeks.
natasha chuckles, tilting a beer at him, “starting to see how similar you and rogers are, barnes.”
“i’ll see you tomorrow,” bucky grumbles, taking your hand to lead you out.
it’s a struggle to get you settled in the car. you can’t seem to stop touching him, some part of your skin pressed against some part of his all the while he tries to sit you down in the backseat. you pout and whine about how you want to sit next to him in the passenger seat, hands on the back of his neck as he leans over to get the seatbelt around you. “i promise i’ll be good, bucky, i promise.”
after your hands remove themselves from his neck and instead tangle with the fingers trying to click the seatbelt closed, he sighs softly and looks up at you, all pleading eyes and wobbly lip as you swear you’ll keep your hands to yourself as long as you’re next to him.
bucky purses his lips, unable to hold back the breathy chuckle and lovesick smile that grace his lips when you frown at him, your thumb softening the lines of his lips.
“do you promise, y/n?”
you nod, holding out your hand, pinky outstretched, “pinky promise.”
curling his own finger around yours, you squeal, grabbing his face and kissing his nose. he ignores the raging blush that overtakes his face as he helps you out, opening the door of the passenger seat for you.
you obey for the rest of the night. for the most part, at least. the only thing you insist on is holding one of his hands while he drives, humming happily along to the radio as you observe the night sky, his hand in yours. your eyelids droop a few minutes in but your fingers never untangle themselves from his.
you wake up the next morning with a throbbing headache and the lingering warmth of bucky’s skin on yours, your fingers aching to wrap around hands you only remembered the feel of. you groan and squeeze your eyes closed the second after you pry them open, slapping a hand on your face and rubbing at your eyes to soothe the pulsing.
slowly sitting up, you’re startled to feel something hot and solid underneath the hand you use to support yourself, retracting it back to your chest immediately and staring in horror at bucky barnes laying next to you. “fuckfuckfuck…” you mumble, small snippets of memories shattering your brain, “what did i do…” your brain barely registers that bucky is fully clothed, looking like he never changed out of his clothes from yesterday, or that your fingers are still lightly hooked before you unconsciously remove them while you straighten.
bucky’s eyes flutter open after a second, going to meet your widened eyes as you scan him.
“what are you doing here?” you ask in surprise, not giving him a chance to answer when your mind goes in another direction, “did we…”
it’s never been something you’re particularly against, but the fact you can barely remember last night is not the way you wanted it to happen with bucky.
luckily, bucky shakes his head, the fact he’s not hungover clear in the way he doesn’t pause or his eyes to calm the dizziness that threatens to tip him over on the bed. “no, no, of course not. you were really drunk last night.”
“very drunk,” you echo, beginning to nod in understanding until you’re hit with a wave of nausea. he nods, repeating your words. “okay. so what are you doing… here? in my bed?”
bucky chuckles a little, a light blush beginning to taint his cheeks as a hand reaches out to scratch his neck, “uh. you wouldn’t exactly… let me leave last night. each time i tried to tuck you in and go to bed, you would pull me back and refuse to let go.”
you decide to not ask about the ‘tucking you in’ portion of his response in favor of looking horrified, “oh my god, bucky, i’m so sorry, i usually glom onto natasha or someone… i can’t believe i did that.”
“it’s okay, i was kinda expectin’ it after the whole night.”
at the discovery that you were like that the entire night, you press a palm to your eyes, “i am so sorry. i must’ve been so annoying to take care of. why didn’t you just leave me with nat or wanda?”
you’re aware before bucky can even respond and you mutter a curse against them, making bucky laugh.
“i can’t believe they just dropped me off with you like my babysitter, i hate them, god--was i really…” you poke your tongue through the skin of your cheek, “i’ve been told i get clingy when i get drunk.”
bucky nods, “that matches up.”
your head falls into your hands, “i am so sorry. did i say anything too embarrassing?”
“well, you did ramble a lot about how pretty i ame,” bucky chuckles, red blooming in his skin, the tremor of nerves in his playful tone unnoticeable to your hungover self.
with a panic much too real to be a lie, you freeze, “did i?”
bucky nods, “uh huh.”
“i’ve never done that,” you mumble, ignoring the annoying voice in your head that reminds you that you’ve never been this interested in anyone before, never yearned as much as you are right now, with bucky so close in your reach yet so far. “what’d i say?” you ask nervously, fearful your drunk self had ruined the relationship you had with bucky. you don’t know if you want him to shrug off your question and say nothing important, or tell you every word you’d told him, some certain look in his eyes that told you he wanted it to be real.
“‘asked me to be your boyfriend a couple’a times. made me blush a little, all the things you were saying.”
you blink, catching the glint in his eye, “did i?”
bucky hums, careful eyes on your face to watch for your reaction, “uh huh. you started cryin’ at one point, scared the crap out of me.”
you scrunch your nose, “oh, i really do wish you stay away from me when i’m drunk, i’m gonna start revealing all my secrets.”
“like the fact you make stark buy that detergent i like? or that you ‘sit close to me so our thighs touch’ purposefully?”
“i told you that?” you gasp, bringing a hand up to your mouth, “did i completely destroy our friendship?”
with a confidence only rooting from the way you acted with him the night before and the tone that makes him believe something he’s been hesitant to for so long, he licks his lips, “i hope so, doll. ‘been wantin’ to be more than that for a while.”
maybe nat and wanda aren’t all that bad.
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He is the problem | Sebastian Stan
Sumarry → During an interview with Anthony, Sebastian and Y/n, Tom Holland accidentally reveals Sebastian and Y/n's relationship.
Pairing → Sebastian Stan X Actress!Reader | Word Count → 488
A/N → I know this is short, I’m sorry for that.♡ English is not my first language, so I’m sorry for any mistakes.
Sebastian Stan masterlist | Masterlist | Open Request!
Tom, Anthony, Sebastian and Y/n were doing an interview for Infinite War, Tom was in the middle of Sebastian and Y/n, and Anthony was on the side of Y/n.
"Tom, we always have a lot of fun with the taunts Sebastian and Anthony have for you." The interviewer says smiling making Tom shake his head dramatically, and Y/n laugh.
“It's just the ones you see, they don't leave me alone during filming,” Tom replies, eliciting more smiles from Seb, Anthony and Y/n.
"Oh come on boy you love this." Anthony responds.
"Lucky for me I have Y/n there to defend myself." Tom says smiling at Y/n, making her hold her arm, and lean her head on Tom's shoulder.
"Oh this is so cute." The interviewer says smiling.
"Yes, this boy here is like my little brother, we spent a lot of time together." Y/n says, and Sebastian and Anthony scoff.
"Not anymore since you and Sebastian-" Sebastian and Y/n cover Tom's mouth before he can finish his sentence.
"Oh my God" Anthony says barely able to breathe from laughing.
"For God's sake, Tom!" Sebastian says laughing as he takes his hand away from Tom's mouth.
"What were you going to say Tom?" The interviewer says almost in disbelief.
"Nothing, I swear it was nothing." Tom says giving an awkward smile, and Y/n slaps his forehead laughing.
"You were going to say the two are together?" The interviewer tries one more time.
"I didn't mean like, together, I just mean, together, you know?" Tom tries to fix it.
"I mean, you guys already suspected they were like… together, didn't you? The fans love them together, so-" Tom rambles.
"Tom!" Sebastian and Y/n scream, interrupting Tom, Anthony now feels like he's going to pass out from laughing so hard.
"Tom shut up, please" Y/n says patting Tom's arm.
"Please can you confirm this?" The interviewer says looking at Y/n and Sebastian.
Sebastian and Y/n looked at each other from behind Tom, and smiled affectionately at each other.
That was the sign that it was okay to reveal it now.
"It's okay, we're together." Y/n says raising their hands in surrender.
"And we've been doing great hiding it so far, isn't it Tom?!" Sebastian says pushing Tom playfully.
"I'm sorry!" Tom says while pretending to cry.
"Alright Tom, we're ready to reveal this." Y/n smiles at Tom, who smiles back.
"Bullshit, she just doesn't want to make Tom feel so bad." Sebastian says laughing
"You better be careful now, Tom." Anthony did teasing Tom.
"I'm going to make your life hell boy." Sebastian says jokingly.
"No it won't, I won't allow it." Y/n says pulling Tom's arm, who leans more on Y/n.
"You are so in trouble Tom." The interviewer says laughing.
"What I always say, Tom Holland is the problem." Anthony says.
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Vodka and Super Soldiers (Bucky, Nat, Steve, and Reader)
A/N: This is very experimental and I’ve never written anything like this before. Feedback is most welcome. Interaction has been a little low this week so I hope this helps! Hope everyone had a good weekend! Also thank you to @tuiccim for helping me with some details! ❤️
Warnings: 18+, smut, potential foursome, light read x everyone at different points, vaginal touching, nipple piercings
Natasha and you made your way to Bucky's room with two bottles of vodka. Steve and Bucky were supposed to be going through some mission reports and Nat and you, well you both were feeling particularly excited about having some fun tonight. Usually, you’d get drunk while the boys chuckled, extremely amused at how Nat and you behaved they had even seen you both kiss, it was a friendly one. But soon after it ended, Steve shut out for the night, a visible boner in his joggers as he hurriedly left Bucky’s room.
This time you girls were determined on having some real fun, and hopefully, Steve wouldn’t be the party pooper. Both of you burst into his room without knocking, holding up the bottles of vodka and both of them immediately rolled their eyes, knowing this meant no more work for the night.
Steve stood up and rubbed his hands together, sitting down on Bucky’s bed, “I see you both are here to disturb us, how may we help you?”
You slowly walked towards Steve, gently running your fingers through his hair as he tensed up immediately. His eyes almost fluttered shut at the contact but he tried to compose himself as he looked at you, trying his best to look into your eyes and not let his eyes wander down to your chest, something Bucky pointed out he did often, mainly with you.
“Well Stevie, I’m going to need you to sit down on the floor because we are playing some truth and dare, and I don’t think all of us are going to squeeze well on Bucky’s single bed, we could – maybe later.” You threw him a little wink before opening the bottle of the vodka, taking a larger than required sip as you scrunch your nose.
Bucky chuckled from beside you as he came and sat down on the floor, “slow down doll, or the night might end with me holding your hair back again, and not in a sexy way.”
You couldn’t help but blush a little, mainly out of embarrassment as you remembered the time you threw up in Bucky’s toilet and he was kind enough to hold your hair while he rubbed your back, “don’t worry, soldier. I’m going to pace myself this time around.”
Nat, Steve, and you followed Bucky as you sat down on the floor. Nat and you opposite each other and, Bucky and Steve opposite each other, it was the perfect setting. You could tell everyone needed to relax and unwind, which is why no one questioned it. The previous week was full of missions and you finally had the weekend off, who wouldn’t want to make the most of it?
Nat looked at Steve with a smirk plastered on her face, “Alright Captain – truth or dare.”
Steve sighs, knowing his turn would eventually come, so might as well go ahead and take the lead. He was normally a safe guy but this time he felt a little more adventurous, “I pick dare.” He puffed his perfect chest out a little, his white tee making it only more tempting, this man knew exactly what he was going, smiling a little when he noticed all three of you stare.
“Right.” Nat cleared her throat, snapping out a little, “I dare you to kiss the person you last had a sexy dream about.”
Steve’s cheeks immediately flushed red as he glared at Bucky. Of course, Bucky had opened his mouth, to Nat nonetheless. You had never seen Captain America look this embarrassed before. He sighs as he turns his head towards you, “May I?”
Your eyes widen a little as you take another swig of your drink and nod, “I’m very flattered, Cap. Don’t be embarrassed. If it helps, I’ve dreamt about you too, and sexy would be an understatement.”
Steve couldn’t help but smile a little as he leaned forward, cupping your face with one hand as he gently pressed his lips against yours. They were soft and welcoming. You couldn’t help but melt into the kiss as you heard Bucky and Nat cheer from behind, making you smile into the kiss. Much to your dismay, Steve pulled away, pursing his lips together as he rubbed the back of his neck nervously.
Bucky looked between the two of you with a smirk, “you know Steve was just talking about how he liked the taste of vodka, I’m sure it’s only gotten better, huh?”
Steve threw him a playful glare; he couldn’t be too mad at Bucky because his big mouth led to him kissing you. He composed himself once again and looked at Nat, “right – truth or dare?”
Nat scoffed a little as she rolled her eyes, “I don’t think you need to ask, Stevie. Dare.”
Bucky and Steve exchanged a look, clearly, they already had something in mind that they had discussed beforehand. Steve looked down at the floor, playing with the carpet, unable to meet Nat’s eyes,
“Show us your most recent piercing.”
You couldn’t help but grin. It was no secret that Nat recently got pierced but it wasn’t very visible, and that’s when curiosity struck amongst the men especially. You were lucky enough to see it because you were there for it and now, the boys were about to get lucky.
Nat confidently removed her tank top, no bra underneath. She was a huge advocate of “no bras on the weekend.” Bucky and Steve’s eyes widened as they stared at her nipple piercing. They weren’t too sure where they wanted to focus – the piercing, her perky breasts, or her hardened nipples. But they looked, they looked for a whole while.
“I’ve been on three dates in the last two months and not one man has looked at my tits like that, you’re lucky Nat.” You chuckled as you stood up, finding Bucky’s stash of plum juice as you mixed your vodka in it.
Bucky’s eyes snapped to you as he tilted his head a little, “you aren’t jealous doll, are you?” he had a smirk plastered on his face that wouldn’t leave. He knew you. He knew you were often jealous of the male attention that Nat received, even though she was your best friend. Bucky motioned you to sit back down, “I bet you’re just as gorgeous.”
“Y/N, truth or dare?” Nat asked, and you immediately knew this would end with you doing something bolder than usual, but you were game, especially tonight.
You shot Bucky a quick smile for his previous comment and then looked at Nat confidently, “I pick dare, of course.”
Nat raised an eyebrow, “well I dare you to strip out of three items of clothing, one for each of us, you know?”
Your eyes widened a little as you looked down at your outfit, all you had on was – shorts, panties, and a tank top. You were a participant in the “no bras on the weekend” movement. There was no backing out and a part of you wanted to do this, you wanted to be looked at. You cleared your throat as you removed your shorts first, handing it to Nat. After which, you proceeded to take your panties off, an obvious wet patch on it as you squeezed your eyes shut and handed it to Steve. And lastly, you removed your tank top, handing it to Bucky.
Steve was very tempted to lift your panties to his nose and take a little sniff but he didn’t want you to think he had been imagining this moment for a while now. The three of them simply stared at you. But more importantly, their eyes darted to your neatly shaved pussy, but the most important thing about it – your hair trimmed with the Captain American shield. It wasn’t a dare; it wasn’t something funny Nat had asked you to do. It was something you chose to do the last time you were shaving and now, they had all seen it.
Steve felt his throat dry up as he stared at it. Never had he felt a sense of pride like the one he felt in this moment. He felt bolder, he felt more powerful as he looked into your eyes, “spread your legs for me, I want to see it properly.”
Your eyes winded a little as Bucky and Nat exchanged a look, suddenly a lot more engrossed in this situation. You bit your lower lip as you spread your legs open, your pussy glistening with your juices, the wet patch on your panties was nothing compared to it.
“I wonder how it feels.” Bucky announced, gulping a little as he shrugged, “I’ve just never seen anything like that – got me intrigued, doll. That’s all.”
You looked at Steve, whose eyes were glued to your pussy, there was no way he’d stop looking anytime soon. You then turned to face Bucky, “I mean, you could touch it if you like? I won’t stop you.”
Bucky didn’t need any more of an invitation to move forward as he sat closer to you, his eyes locked to your as he gently ran his fingers over the shield, his knuckles almost brushing your slit as you sucked in a breath.
You held back a moan when his eyes pierced into yours and he ran a finger through your wet pussy, “Bucky – please.”
Steve moved a little closer as he sat next to you, gently moving your hair away from your shoulder as he placed wet kisses there, “tell him what you want, sweetheart. Don’t be shy.”
Nat couldn’t help but smile at the setting in front of her, all her best friends seemed to be getting along. Her eyes moved over to Steve and Bucky, “you boys look like you need some help too.”
Steve clears his throat as he looks at all of you, “I do have the biggest bed here, we could just – “
Before he could even finish his sentence, Bucky stood up, followed by Nat as Steve helped you. He handed you his sweatshirt with a shrug,
“Just until we get there. After that – it’s coming off.”
You put the sweatshirt on and nodded, “aye aye Captain!”
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𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐈𝐕- 𝐒𝐭𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐎𝐯𝐞𝐫
widow!dad!teacher!Bucky x f!teacher!Reader (ft. Rebecca Barnes and other friends)
Word Count: 3.8k
Warnings: Angst, grief, chapter focuses mostly on James and Rebecca.
Ever since you declared your relationship with James, he’s been acting rather distant. It was as if you’d both gotten what you wanted, and now you were just partners, living the boring, domestic lives you’d wanted with each other. You wanted it to feel more than that, but you weren’t sure exactly what it was that made you feel like that.
You would you stay with him overnight a few times, you sometimes drove to work together, and Rebecca was now aware that you were dating her dad, but nothing felt magical anymore. You were sure it would’ve if you hadn’t been rushed into it all, giving you and James more time to play around before stepping into a regular, normal relationship when you were both ready. Now you felt like you had been pushed into playing house with him instead of gradually and carefully like you wanted.
Not to say that it didn’t all feel good- it did. It felt great, most times. Even without the sex, and despite him being distant, James was still a wonderful partner. The days you woke up next to him and cooked breakfast with him were your favorites.
When it came to the sex, James found his stride again. After the first time where you let him finish instead of you, he rediscovered the art of pleasuring a woman. There were countless times where you and James made love that felt sweet and romantic, and other times where you experimented with things that were more rough. You couldn’t complain about the way he was treating you, or the way he made love to you, but something still felt off.
There was just that feeling- that icky feeling in your core that made you feel like you were intruding on something that was already established. That feeling that made you wonder why James was being so distant, maybe he felt it too. He never really talked about his wife, though you wanted to encourage him to. You just weren’t sure how to open up that type of conversation with someone you’d just started dating. ‘Hey, I know you’re dating me now, but do you mind telling me about your dead wife?’ None of it felt natural. It felt intrusive, if anything.
But you still cared about him so deeply. And you could tell he cared about you, too. The glances you’d sneak during dinners, the way he kissed you in private, he knew how to make a woman feel loved. And Rebecca loved it too. You tried to keep the PDA to a minimum around her, but she’d giggle and squeal at the occasional kisses you’d share in front of her. You’d even gone as far as having a day with Rebecca, which consisted of shopping, getting dinner, and lots and lots of pictures. Your phone was full of pictures of the three of you, and so was James’s.
Two months of dating and you’d managed to ignore the occasional icky feelings. James did the same. He’d push away those feelings of wanting to distance himself because he really liked you. He didn’t want to ruin this, no matter how abruptly it all happened.
But ignoring those feelings didn’t last long. Eventually, they resurfaced.
It started small- he stopped kissing you as often as he did. It usually was a string of at least a dozen spontaneous but passionate kisses throughout the day, the first one always being while the two of you woke up. Then the morning kisses stopped, and eventually you were lucky if you even got more than one in the day.
Then he’d make excuses for not spending lunch with you. He was behind on work, had a student making up a quiz, wasn’t hungry. You were left in your classroom all alone during your lunch periods, eating the lunch you made together.
But what drew the line was how he felt about you and Becca. At first, he was absolutely obsessed with the two of you, knowing you were glad to fill the role of Mom for her. The girls’ days, the way she absolutely adored you, the matching pajamas you bought for the two of you- it was all so beautiful. But when things actually got serious, he took on the parent role. He wouldn’t give you a chance to calm Becca down if she was throwing a tantrum or help him with the hard stuff- it always had to be him, as if he didn't trust you to help. Even when you tried, he’d always say, “It’s okay, I got this.” You couldn’t help but feel hurt when he did that. You were in this too, you wanted to help him be a parent. Becca needed you, too.
Then the dance had to happen. The fucking dance.
“Mommy-Daughter dance? People still do those?” James asked, setting down the flyer Rebecca had given him when he picked her up from school. Of course Rebecca didn’t explicitly ask you, but you knew she wanted you to go with her.
“I think it’s cute. It’s a chance for moms to get together and hang out with their daughters. Didn’t they have a Daddy-Daughter one?”
“Yeah, but Bec and I didn’t go. I wouldn’t be caught dead at one of those things.” Sure, James loved his daughter unconditionally, but he would rather spare himself the embarrassment of standing by a table of snacks with other clueless dads as their daughters jumped around together to whatever Top 40 song was playing.
“That’s where you and I are different, that sounds like fun to me,” you teased, kissing his cheek and trying to keep the conversation light. You could tell he had a bad day, whether it be from his students being too wild or the phantom pains on his left side he told you about. “I might go with Bec, we’ll see if I can.”
“Why? You’re not her mom.”
James definitely didn’t mean for it to come out the way it did. He didn’t even know how he meant it, he just said it and instantly regretted it.
You turned to face him, clearly hurt, “Ouch?”
Shit. It was too late to dig himself out of this one. He’d already offended you, there was no way he’d be able to redeem himself. “I just mean- you don’t have an obligation to go. What if Becca doesn’t want to?”
“Then we won't,” you stated, “What the hell, James? You do realize I care about Rebecca, right? I wouldn’t just ignore it if she wanted to go. We are a team, remember? I’m the closest thing to a mom-“
“She has a mom.” James said, his eyes stinging.
“I know she does,” you tried lowering your voice to keep the conversation calm, “I just thought it’d be fun, that’s all. I’m sorry if I crossed a line.” You lowered your head, avoiding eye contact with him. You knew he could be grumpy, but you always thought he’d spare that side of him for you.
“No, don’t be sorry. I had a rough day and I’m just taking it out on you. I’m sorry.” James took in a deep sigh, wrapping his arms from behind you as you sat at the kitchen island.
His hold was comfortable on you. You wanted to just forgive and forget, but it bugged you too much to ignore. “Do you really think that about me? That I’ll never be her mom?”
James was silent- he feared telling you the truth. At least the truth phrased in a positive way- you’ll never be her mom because you didn’t give birth to her, but you could do everything in your power to be as close to a mom as Rebecca could get. No- why was he having such a hard time calling you Becca’s mom? Or at least, her stepmom? Every time he found himself close to saying it, all he could hear was his wife in his head.
You were taken back by his lack of response. Defeated, you spoke again. “Okay.”
“No, I just-“ James rushed to find words. He could tell he was losing you. “What if one day we end things and then she gets confused? She’s gonna think another mom just up and left her.”
“When are you gonna stop thinking that? I want to stay in this. Do you? Because if you don’t then I’ll leave. Right now.”
Before the logical part of James’s brain could process what you’d just said, the stupider, reckless part of his brain was speaking for him. “Fine.”
Tears welling up in your eyes, you stared at him blankly. “Just like that?”
“I know what’s best for me and my daughter. And if you don’t think you’re the fit, why bother staying?” God, he couldn’t stand seeing you cry.
Shut up, he wanted to yell to himself, shut up, shut up, shut up and apologize. Hold her, she’s the only woman who’s seen you for you in a long time.
“Did you not hear everything I was just saying? I do think I’m a good fit. I think I’m perfect for Becca, actually. But clearly you don’t think the same thing, so I’ll just go. I’m sorry I have to do this to her too. She doesn’t deserve it.”
James watched you walk out of his house, giving him ample time to apologize, but he remained still. As much as he was internally screaming to move or say something, he couldn’t. James did nothing but watch you walk out of his house and out of his life.
The following month wasn’t any easier. Daily, James dealt with a tantrum from Becca. Her therapist told him this was a new, scary transition for her. One minute she had you, someone who was like a mom to her, then the next, you were gone. The meetings that occurred every other week turned every week, most of those meetings consisting of Rebecca crying over how much she missed you.
The meetings where James was able to sit in were harder than the ones where he could wait in the lobby. Having to hear Rebecca tell him basically everything he lacked as a father broke his heart into a million tiny pieces and made it unrepairable.
James was also in therapy. He talked to his counselor about losing his wife, dating you, and eventually, the breakup.
“Do you think there’s still a part of you that thinks your wife will come back?” His therapist’s words struck him in a way he never expected.
For the first time in years, James found himself willing and able to cry. He sobbed during that therapy session, knowing his therapist was exactly right.
He was still waiting for her to come back.
Despite being in that car, knowing what happened.
Despite having gone to her funeral.
Despite the fact that it'd been over seven years. too
At her funeral, at every birthday party Becca had, he didn’t let himself fully cry. When Rebecca asked him questions that tugged at his heart strings, he didn’t allow himself to cry. Finally feeling emotion and letting himself do what he’d been holding back for years felt better than anything he could’ve imagined. He always felt the need to put up a wall around others- let them know he was stern, harsh, and didn’t cry. But that didn’t always have to be the case, especially with a young daughter. Crying is okay, crying helps.
“Here’s what I think you should do,” James’s therapist, Dr. Banner, said as his sobs died down, “If you have any old pictures or old videos of her, look at them. Allow yourself to look at her and say goodbye.”
James almost didn’t want to- he knew how badly it would hurt. But he had to admit to himself that he was pushing wonderful people like you away because he wasn’t truly over the death of his wife. Though there was somewhat of a relief to know he wasn’t in a relationship, he couldn’t deny that he missed you. He still couldn’t stop thinking about you, even after knowing you were avoiding him like the Plague.
That evening, after Rebecca went to sleep, he went down to the basement of his home, which was the one area of his home he neglected. Cobwebs and creaky floors took over the area, but James was only here for one thing.
He kept a box of his wife’s things hidden down here, in an area Becca would never find, if she even dared to go downstairs to the scary basement.
Old clothes, expired makeup, and photos and home videos- all the things he kept for himself instead of adding it to the mantle for Rebecca. Her college graduation photo, the cherry red lipstick she wore almost every day, even old documents with her signature that James had found after her death. He kept it all here and almost forgot about it. There was the occasional day where he really wanted to talk to her and came down here, like a grave, to get some kind of fulfillment. The kind that only a grown-up could understand, which is why he'd never told Rebecca about it. He couldn't imagine her understanding wanting to keep a seven-year-old tube of mascara. She couldn't understand that it was important because it was hers, a small piece of her everyday life- proof of her existence.
He figured, Dr. Banner’s advice couldn’t have been tooterrible. He grabbed the box of home videos and made his way back upstairs.
James watched as the DVD player buffered for a second, attempting to recognize the disc.
Then, there she was.
“I look terrible, don’t film me,” she smiled, looking shyly away from the camera. James remembered this, though a part of him knew the video would be short. Her voice had the power to ease every wound in his heart. He'd missed it so much.
“Come on, you look beautiful.” He heard his own voice, almost unfamiliar as he sounded much younger.
She blushed at his words, though still continued to try and hide her face. She held a newborn Rebecca in her arms. This had been the day they brought Rebecca home from the hospital.
“Honey, I haven’t showered. I don’t feel like myself, I probably look ridiculous.”
“Fine, I won’t record my gorgeous wife and my adorable daughter,” James complied lightly, setting down the camera. James could’ve sworn he stopped recording, but by the looks of it, he hadn’t. The camera was perfectly facing the nursery James remembered he’d spend all weekend working on. A soft pink with white accents, straight out of a fairytale- he was so proud of his work. “Come on, in case you were wondering what I was up to all weekend.”
“James… I thought we agreed on green. It’s calmer than whatever this is.”
Suddenly, James and his wife were in frame again, obvious frustration on their faces. “What? She’s a baby, does it matter?”
“It does to me,” she said, taking a moment to smell her surroundings, “and why’d you have to do it so late? It smells like paint in here.”
“No it doesn’t,”
Rebecca started whining in her mother's arms, seemingly worsening the situation. “See? She already hates it. I’m not letting my daughter sleep in a room that smells like this.” She walked out with baby Rebecca in her arms, James chasing after her.
“Baby, come on,” The camera must’ve died shortly after, because there wasn’t much after that.
James found himself laughing and crying at the same time. He missed her so immensely that he’d forgotten little things like this. Little arguments that made them them. Her personality- the way she was so vibrant.
That was who Rebecca was. She didn't know it, but she was her mom. In every single way.
“Is that Mommy?” James heard a little voice ask from around the corner. He turned to find his daughter standing behind him, carrying a blanket.
“Yeah,” James answered, wiping up his tears. He hadn’t expected her to wake up, but he wasn’t going to send her back to bed. “Do you wanna watch?”
Becca nodded. She climbed onto the couch as James put in another disc, one labeled “Wedding”.
Both James and Rebecca were greeted by a video of her getting ready, a bright smile on her face as she put on that same cherry red lipstick she loved.
When James returned to the couch, Rebecca climbed onto his chest and laid there, eyes fixated on the screen.
“See, your mom was super shy, so we had to be sneaky when we filmed her.” He said, bringing his flesh hand to her hair and petting it.
“She looks like a princess,” Rebecca said.
“She looks like you.” James smiled, watching Rebecca’s eyes light up as her mom continued to be on screen. It had cut to the party now, to a slightly drunk Steve giving his best man speech. “Doesn’t Uncle Steve look different now?”
As James’s eyes remained on Becca, he watched her expression change. At first she was happy to see her mom, dad, and Uncle Steve on screen. Then her face had fallen to a small frown, and James watched her eyes well up with tears.
“Hey, what’s wrong, bug?”
Rebecca just dug her face in James’s chest and started to cry. “I want Mommy.” She whined, snot and tears staining her father’s navy blue shirt.
“I know you do, baby. I know it’s hard-“
“No, Daddy. I wanna talk to her. I wanna hug her and eat dinner with her. I want a Mommy.” That was the first time James had ever heard Rebecca actually use her words to tell him why she was crying. She had become so well-spoken, it was almost like his seven-year-old was better at having an adult conversation than him. “I know you’re my Daddy and that should be enough for me, but I want a Mommy too.”
James felt the waterworks coming again. But instead, he let them go. He didn’t try to hide them anymore. This time, he welcomed them as he held Rebecca, consoling her and crying with her. And it helped. He didn’t want her to think he was some emotionless monster, that it was okay to have these feelings. If there was one thing James realized he wanted Rebecca to know, it was that it’s okay to feel.
After a while, the sobs died down, and Rebecca had fallen back asleep on her dad’s chest. He carried her back to her room, kissing her forehead before turning everything off and heading to bed himself. Though he was tired, he laid awake thinking about everything he’d just heard and seen.
He also thought about you.
How perfect you really were for this family. How he needed you, and so did Rebecca. He was wrong to shut you out, knowing there was no way in hell you’d take him back.
How even he and his wife had their issues, despite how perfect he made them seem.
He gave you big shoes to fill and impossibly high standards. Of course you couldn’t compete, he made it impossible for you to. You were so good to him, so patient with Rebecca and so loving. He struck gold with you, and he scared you away.
No, he had to get you back.
He sat up abruptly, thinking to himself, ‘What the fuck am I doing just laying here?’
He looked at the time. 9PM. It wasn’t too late, Steve could still be awake.
James sighed in relief when Steve picked up. “Steve! You gotta come over, I need you to watch Becca.”
“Is she okay? Are you okay? Is someone hurt?”
“No, Steve, we’re fine, I just- I made a huge fucking mistake. I need her to forgive me, I need her to take me back.”
And Steve knew exactly who James was talking about. “It’s about time, punk. I’ll be there in ten.”
As soon as Steve arrived to his home, James bolted out the door and to his car, looking at the time and praying you’d still be awake. He needed to let you know that he was wrong. That he was stupid for putting that pressure on you and that he should’ve known- of course you weren’t his wife, you were you, and that should’ve been good enough for him.
He remembered which apartment was yours, knocking on the front door and waiting. He saw a window he presumed was yours, which was dark, and almost gave up. But when the light flickered on from inside, he felt his heart flutter in his chest. The sound of you unlocking the door only heightened his excitement- he felt like a little kid on Christmas morning.
You opened the door, and James couldn’t help but marvel at your beauty. This was the you he always wanted to see- your most beautiful, authentic form. The you that was more maternal, a teacher, she was wonderful too, but this version was by far had to be his favorite.
You squinted at him, unsure if he was actually there or if this was just a dream. “James? What are you doing here? Is Becca oka-“
Before you could even finish your sentence, James had leaned in to kiss you, taking his time to remember every muscle your body made as it moved closer to him and every touch that lingered on his skin from your hands.
He pulled away, examining every angle of your face. “I love you.”
“Please, just hear me out for a second. When someone dies, you kind of get this feeling like… like they never did anything wrong. You don’t want to think about it or bring it up because then you look like an asshole. My wife, I always tried to keep this perfect image of her for Rebecca, and as much as I loved her, she wasn’t perfect. She made mistakes. I’m sorry for thinking that we had to be like that. I want you, and every flaw that comes with you. To be honest, you’re the best thing that’s happened to me in a long time. So if you’ll give me a second chance…” James felt tears begin to brim his eyes, “I don’t want to lose you. I can’t lose anyone again. I’m sorry.”
You felt yourself beginning to cry to. How was this the same grumpy man who never talked about his feelings? This was the most honest and genuine you’d ever seen him, and it broke your heart into a million pieces.
“You’re not going to lose me.” You said, “I love you, too.”
Leaning in to kiss him again, you wrapped your arms around him in a tight embrace. An embrace he needed. You felt him let out a quiet sigh in relief, as if he was letting go of every stressing feeling that had a hold on him. Like he was finally starting to show his true colors, unafraid to be vulnerable.
James Barnes kept his heart buried deep, deep down in his chest to keep it from getting harmed again. You were in love with a man who was completely broken. But he stood before you, making do with the pieces he found on his own and giving you a second chance to help make him whole again.
And you were so proud of him for it.
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ᴏɴᴇ ꜱɪᴍᴘʟᴇ ᴛᴏᴜᴄʜ
Summary: Bucky is trying to get used to being around other people again and turns to you for comfort, one simple touch is all it takes to make him feel at peace with himself.
Pairing: Beefy!Bucky x Reader
Word Count: 5.7k
Warnings: I think it's mostly fluff, maybe a teeny tiny bit of angst for 0.01 second
Requests: Fluffy piece with Bucky where reader is trying to get Buck to feel more comfortable with touch so reader braids his hair and he gets really relaxed and soft because he’s not used to it. Like a gentle kiss or something too.
Maybe after Wakanda, he and reader are friends and Reader asks to braid Bucky’s hair and it’s just really fluffy. Maybe with a head massage and Buck has never gotten one before so he just melts?
Bucky found it difficult to get used to being around people again. For over 70 years the people that were always circling around him were usually probing, poking or hurting him. Steve had suggested to Bucky to move in the tower, join the group. He assured him he would have his own living space and no one is going to force anything on him if there's something he doesn't want to do. Bucky had his doubts but fortunately he was proven wrong. He had almost an entire floor to himself, the doors in his apartment locked from the inside and if someone wanted to see him they knocked and waited for him to allow them inside. Privacy had almost become a foreign concept to him but now that he had it, he never wanted to let it go again.
It took him a couple of months before being comfortable enough to join the rest of the group when they hung out together or ate together. It was a lot of people to deal with at the same time, lots of loud noises and voices overlapping. Bucky was used to silence, calm, darkness and solitude. Hanging with the Avengers was everything but any of those things.
You had joined the Avengers only a few months before Bucky moved in. Steve had been the one to find you and introduce you to Tony. You were a little genius, even more so than Tony and it didn't take long to realize that your wonderful brain was a needed addition to the group. You always came up with weapons ideas, battle strategies and flawless plans. The way your brain worked was almost magical. You could analyze something and within seconds you had come up with a solution or an idea. When Steve brought you in he thought you were only going to work in the labs but as it turns out, you had very useful skills for the battlefield as well and now you were pretty much around all the time.
You were quite reserved, no matter how many times you had tried breaking out of your shell. You were like Bucky in that way; solitude and silence had been your only companions for so long that it was hard to get used to being with so many people all at once.
Even if you weren't familiar with being around people, there was something about you that made others gravitate towards you. Your presence was soothing, calming. You were soft in more than one way and your colleagues liked that. You were always smiling, even if you were having a rough day. You always made the time to listen to other people's problems even when you should have focused and used your energy on your own problems.
Steve was your favorite from the group. Tony liked to make the joke that you were both elderly in some type of way and that's why you got along so perfectly.
You could see a small part of you in Steve. Not Captain America, but the little Brooklyn boy that was still there buried under pounds and pounds of muscles. He always made you feel like you could be your true self around him, he never judged you or made fun of you. He was a great friend and you told him that almost every day.
Bucky liked being around you, even if he had never actually talked to you except for the occasional hi and how are you, in passing. He gave himself small goals to achieve and when he'd be ready to try to make more friends aside from Steve, you were his very first choice. The top of his list. It terrified him and excited him at the same time, there's always the fear of being rejected because of who he is, who he was and what he has done. None of it is a secret, apparently people can read about him on the internet though he's never checked. Steve tried to tell him time and time again that no one would judge him for the things he did when he didn't have control over his mind but Bucky found that hard to believe, so he didn't.
One night, Bucky woke up from a nightmare which wasn't unusual. The throbbing pain in his head was a new, unwelcomed addition. He can't even remember the last time he had a headache, even less a migraine. He turned around in bed trying to find a comfortable position with his neck stiffening with every second that passed but he quickly realized that lying down was only making it worse. He got out of bed and went down to the shared living room to sit in the dark, hoping it would help get rid of the pounding in his head. He hadn't expected to find you already there, sitting in a corner of the room with a few books scattered around you.
He wanted to turn back around to leave you in peace but it was too late, you had already seen him.
"Hi, James." You greeted him quietly with a smile that rapidly turned into a frown. "Are you ok?"
"Mh-mh. I'm fine. Why?"
You tilted your head to the side, narrowing your eyes as you looked at him. "You seem in pain."
"You've been looking at me for 5 seconds and you can tell I'm in pain?" He asked, surprised. People usually have a lot of trouble figuring him out but he should have known that you were going to be different.
"What's wrong?" You asked, avoiding answering his question because that would mean telling him that you liked looking at him from time to time and that's just creepy.
"I woke up and my head's pounding. I can't make it stop." He admitted, knowing it was useless to try and lie to you.
"I'm guessing medication wouldn't have any effect on your system because of the serum?"
"Not even a little bit."
Your brain worked its magic to find a solution to his problem.
"Relaxing your muscles will help get rid of your migraine."
"I don't know how to do that." He sighed.
"I can help, if you want. I'd have to touch your head, maybe a little bit of your neck and shoulders."
"At this point I'm willing to try anything."
"Sit on the couch."
He did as you said and you made him sit sideways so that you could kneel behind him on the couch.
"You say the word and I'll stop, ok?"
He nodded. "Just do your thing."
You started by massaging his temples with your fingertips, drawing small, soothing circles there. You then moved up to the top of his head where you ran your fingers through his hair, moving them away from his face. With your thumbs, you followed down the tension from the sides of his neck all the way to the middle of his shoulder blades.
Bucky's eyes fluttered closed under your touch. It gave him goosebumps and shivers every time your fingers touched his skin.
He didn't even flinch when you started rubbing at his neck and slowly worked your way down to his shoulders. You were massaging directly onto the skin, thanks to the tank top he wore to bed giving you easy access. You started with the right one and when you moved to the other side, you hesitated.
Bucky could feel your hesitation and knew you wouldn't want to touch him there.
"Is it ok if I do your left side?" You asked him quietly.
It was such a simple question but it left Bucky speechless. Like having headaches, he can't remember when was the last time someone asked permission to touch his left arm. You didn't hesitate because you were uncomfortable or disgusted, you hesitated because you wanted to respect his boundaries and he could have cried just from the simple question. Truthfully, he almost did.
"Yes." He whispered, not trusting his voice to go any louder.
You were very careful when you massaged his left shoulder. There was so much scarring tissue, you weren't sure if he could even feel anything because of it.
"Do you still have nerve endings?" You finally asked, still gently massaging where metal met skin.
"Does it hurt sometimes?"
"All the time." He admitted.
"I'm sorry." Not for asking the question but for everything he went through and Bucky could tell simply by the tone of your voice. It wasn't pity, it was empathy. A sincere apology for something you didn't do but it still felt nice to have someone say those words to him and mean them.
When you feel him starting to really relax, you let your hands roam from his temples to his shoulders, and back again.
"How's your head?" You asked, 10 minutes later.
"A lot better. Thank you."
You smiled even if he couldn't see it. "Anytime. I'm glad I could help."
"Could you maybe… run your fingers through my hair a little while longer?" He asked quietly, slightly embarrassed and most definitely shy.
"You got it."
This time you used both hands and, though you didn't time it, you're pretty sure you did it for a full hour but never once did it bother you.
Bucky showed up in the living room a few more nights before it slowly began to become a routine for the two of you and your newly found friendship.
At first, Bucky only came to you in the middle of the night when he couldn't sleep and he knew that you were most likely sitting in the dark, surrounded by opened books while your mind was racing all over the place. It didn't take long for him to notice that you took a lot on your shoulders, put a lot of pressure on yourself and you always felt like you needed to be perfect by fear of them kicking you out. This was your home, these were your friends, you didn't want to be left out on the street by yourself.
They would never do something like that but it was a constant fear at the forefront of your mind.
Soon after he realized that, Bucky was now coming to you every night. Even when he felt fine, because he was worried about you and he wanted to make sure that you would stop and rest, go to sleep even.
"Sweets, we talked about this." He said to you from the doorway, leaning his left shoulder on the doorframe with his arms crossed over his chest. "1:30 is your cut off time. Then you go to bed."
You looked up at him. "What time is it?"
"Oh. It's not that bad." You started closing the books around you.
"Because I came down. Wanna bet I would have found you here, like this if I had come an hour or two later?"
"I know, I know." You mumbled, stacking up your books neatly in the corner.
While you had your back to him, Bucky pushed himself off the doorframe and walked over to you to offer you his hands and help you up.
‘’Off to bed, sweet girl.’’ He gently nudged you towards the door, following behind you to make sure you actually headed to your room.
Already in your pajamas, you climbed into bed right away and gestured for Bucky to do the same. He shook his head.
‘’Another time, you need to rest. I’ll survive one night without you playing with my hair.’’
‘’Please.’’ You pouted. ‘’You know it helps me, too.’’
He stared at you. ‘’Fine.’’ He huffed, getting on your bed. ‘’Just for a few minutes, sweets. I’m serious, you need to sleep. That incredible brain of yours needs a break from time to time.’’
‘’A few minutes.’’ You repeated, like a promise.
Bucky sat with his back to you while you kneeled on your mattress behind him. You started the way you always do by massaging his temples and then moving up to his scalp. You could feel the way his skin rippled from the shivers and goosebumps, which never missed to make you giggle. Bucky loved hearing that sound coming out of you, it made his heart flutter in his chest every single time.
It didn’t take long for Bucky to start melting under your touch, his eyes fluttering close and his neck going almost limp. You knew you did a good job when you could see his shoulders slouch, a sign that he was fully relaxed. Only then would you stop massaging his head and start playing with his hair. What you loved to do was braid his hair, it’s just so soft and fluffy that you can’t help yourself. Bucky loved it too. He loved the feelings of your fingers running through his hair and the way you’d sometimes scratch at his scalp, barely grazing him but just enough to get to a hitch he didn’t know he had until you touched him.
You’d braid his hair, then undo it by running your fingers through it and then you’d start all over again.
You always ended your little routine by massaging his left shoulder where skin met metal, now that you knew that Bucky could still feel through the scar tissue. You were currently working on something for Tony and Bruce but the moment you are done you will be focusing on trying to find why and how his metal arm could irritate his skin so much.
You are the only person Bucky trusts enough to touch that arm. He doesn’t think he’d be that comfortable even with Steve. There’s something about you that just makes him trust you, almost as if he could tell just by looking at you that you were never going to do anything to harm him in any way.
He trusts his gut, it never stirred him wrong so far.
The little yawn that escaped your mouth broke him out of his trance to look at the clock on your nightstand.
‘’We said a few minutes.’’ Bucky groaned after realizing that it’s been 45 minutes.
‘’I know but you looked so relaxed, I didn’t want to stop.’’
He stood up from your bed, shaking his head. ‘’Go to sleep.’’
You chuckled and got under the cover, watching Bucky walking to the door.
‘’Good night, James.’’
‘’Good night, sweet girl.’’
You smiled at him before he turned off the light and walked out, silently closing the door behind him.
After that night, he started seeking you out during the day to make sure you’d always go straight to bed at night.
One day he knocked at your bedroom door and when you saw him walk in you could tell that he was mad.
‘’What’s wrong?’’ You sat up, looking up at him as he came closer.
‘’Don’t want to talk about it.’’ He mumbled, climbing on your bed.
He sat with his back leaning against your headboard and scooped you up long enough to sit you down between his legs with your back to his chest. Without a word, he started playing with your hair and did to you everything you do to him that he loves so much. It didn’t take long for his bad mood to be gone, back to his peaceful and relaxed state that he’s always in when you’re around.
Another morning he walked in after knocking looking sad. You sat up in your bed and felt your heart break at the sadness in his eyes.
He simply nodded and this time when he got on your bed instead of sitting he laid down, resting his head on your lap and closed his eyes. Your hands found their way to his head and you softly stroked his hair, whatever you could reach without disturbing him. You kept stroking his hair with your left hand and with your right hand you traced his features with your fingertip. You barely touched him, if he wasn’t so focused on your touch he probably wouldn’t have even known you were doing it but he could feel your finger moving along his hairline down to his ear, then your finger followed the curve of his ear down to his neck and went back up to his nose. You did this until he fell asleep.
One afternoon, you were the one looking for Bucky.
‘’Jamie.’’ You greeted him cheerfully when you found him sitting on the couch of the living room. You were clearly excited about something as you walked over to him. You stopped moving when you noticed that he was watching a documentary. ‘’Oh. You’re busy. I’m sorry.’’
‘’It’s ok, what’s up?’’ He turned his head to look at you.
‘’It’s nothing important. It can wait until you’re done.’’ You smiled.
He turned off the tv and put the remote down on the coffee table. ‘’Come here, sweet girl. Tell me.’’ He patted the empty seat next to him.
You were too excited to argue so you quickly joined him on the couch, sitting with your legs tucked under you. ‘’You know that tech that I’ve been working on that Tony came up with but it kept failing and he couldn’t figure out why?’’
He nodded, turning slightly to his side to look at you.
‘’It’s been driving me crazy because I couldn’t figure it out either and you know how much I hate it when I can’t solve something.’’ Your words were coming out so fast, Bucky had trouble keeping up sometimes but he was getting used to it. That’s how you get when you’re excited about something.
Without even realizing it, you were running your fingers through Bucky’s hair as you kept talking. ‘’I tested it over and over again, took it apart then put it back together, tested it again. It was driving me nuts, which is exactly what I said in my head and then I figured it out. I took it apart and instead of putting it back together like Tony showed me to, I did it my way and I added those tiny little nuts to tighten it all up. It fixed everything. Everything. But that’s not even the best part.’’
Bucky smiled as he listened to you but the position started to get uncomfortable so he grabbed you by the hips and made you straddle his lap instead so you could keep playing with his hair. He laid his hands flat on your back to keep you from falling backwards and none of it slowed you down in the slightest.
‘’I thought it was tech for you guys but turns out it was for Stark Industries, he’s going to patent it under my name and he’s going to pay me every time it’s sold. Around the world. Can you imagine? Something I did is going to be sold to people, under Tony’s name and he said he doesn’t put his name on just anything; it has to be perfect, flawless and genius. Those are the words he used.’’
Bucky chuckled when he noticed you were getting breathless from talking so much. ‘’That’s amazing, sweets. I can’t believe you said it was nothing and that it could wait. That’s huge news. You should be proud of yourself. I’m proud of you.’’
You smiled brightly at him and tucked his hair behind his ears. ‘’Sorry for messing with your hair.’’
‘’It’s ok.’’ He smiled back at you.
‘’How was your day?’’ You asked while moving a little closer, getting ready to listen to him.
As time went on and your friendship solidified, you could tell how Bucky was feeling just by the way he was seeking your touch. You didn’t need to say a word, you just watched him and waited to see if he wanted to talk about it.
When he curled up on your lap, you knew that he was either sad or feeling guilty and sometimes even both. When he sat behind you to play with your hair it meant that he was too angry to speak or sit still. When either of you was happy or excited and had something to share with the other, Bucky would sit you on his lap facing him with your legs on each side of his body so that he could look at the way your eyes would lit up at good news whether it was yours or his.
Bucky had never realized how touch starved he was until he let you into his life. He was so sure that other people’s touch terrified him, that he’d be spending the rest of his life literally pushing people away so they wouldn’t try to touch him but as it turns out, he loved it and craved it. Sometimes there were little pieces of his mind he would get back, snippets of his life from before the war of who James Bucky Barnes was before he was turned into a killing machine. He remembers smiling a lot. He always had this goofy grin plastered on his face and he could almost remember how light his chest used to feel without the crushing guilt that gnawed at him now. He used to laugh too, he used to make jokes and tease Steve. He wasn’t scared of anyone, quite the opposite. He was always surrounded by people; friends, family, girls he’d easily picked up by using his signature grin and a few charming words. It wasn’t unusual for him to be seen hand in hand with a woman he met earlier in the day. You brought that side out of him, you brought out the man he used to be and wanted to be again.
Steve had started to train and work out with Bucky. Every day they would go down to the gym and go at each other, full strength no holding back. They both loved it but Bucky was exhausted all the time. He had just enough energy to take a shower and then he’d crash. The first week was especially rough and Bucky was so tired that you hadn’t seen him at all. Steve noticed that it started to affect you, you weren’t as cheerful and without Bucky to tell you to go to bed you had spent a lot of nights awake and working.
Come Friday night, Steve had suggested watching a movie and even went to get Bucky from his room but came back down without him.
‘’Sorry.’’ He said when he saw your disappointment. ‘’He was sleeping and I don’t think he heard me through the door. I left a note under his door in case he wakes up.’’
‘’It’s ok. He’s better, he’s sleeping. That’s good.’’ You smiled but it didn’t really reach your eyes.
You were happy that Bucky had found something to keep him busy and make him feel good enough to sleep through the night but a selfish part of you was sad that you weren’t that something anymore. You missed your friend and the little moments you used to share together. It had been really hard for you to trust someone this much, to be completely yourself and let down all your guards. You went from being alone most of the time to having someone waiting for you and back to being alone and it left a bitter taste in your mouth.
You let Steve choose the movie and sat down on the couch, staying on your side and leaning your head against the armrest.
About halfway through the movie, a very sleepy Bucky walked into the living room holding up Steve’s post-it he had slid under his bedroom door.
‘’Got your note.’’
He hadn’t even noticed you when he first walked in because of how small you made yourself all curled up in the corner of the couch but he smiled when he saw you.
‘’Hey, you.’’ He walked over to you and sat down beside you. ‘’Got some hugs to spare for a bruised old man?’’
You untucked yourself and stood up. ‘’Sorry, I’m not feeling so great. I think I’m just going to head out to bed. Good night guys.’’
Before either of them could say something, you were gone.
‘’Is she ok?’’ Bucky turned to look at Steve.
Steve shrugged and turned off the TV. ‘’She’s been having a bad week.’’
‘’Really? What happened?’’
Steve waited a few seconds before speaking again, thinking of how he could explain it to Bucky. ‘’You’re not the only one who’s been having trouble fitting in, trusting people and allowing them into your life.’’
‘’What’s that supposed to mean?’’ Bucky frowned.
‘’She’s had trouble too. She always feels out of place and she doesn’t like being around other people because they always make her feel like she’s different.’’
‘’Did someone say something to her?’’ Bucky stood up, ready to go to whoever it is that said something hurtful to you.
‘’Bucky, she used to be alone all the time and then you became friends and she wasn’t alone anymore because you were always together.’’
‘’Steve, get to the point.’’
‘’She’s been alone all week, she misses you.’’ Steve finally admitted.
‘’You could have lead with that, punk.’’ Bucky didn’t wait for Steve’s answer and left to find you.
He had hoped he could have caught up with you before you got to your room, and he probably would have if it wasn’t for Steve playing Riddler downstairs. He knocked on your door softly.
‘’Sweets, it’s me. Can you open up, please?’’
He sighed with relief, he had been scared you weren’t going to let him in.
Bucky opened the door slowly, walked in then closed it. He got on your bed and lied down behind you over the covers. ‘’You must feel really bad because you’re in bed before 10.’’ He teased you, speaking softly. ‘’I’m not feeling great either. Maybe we got the same thing.’’
You quickly turned around when you heard Bucky wasn’t ok. ‘’What’s wrong?’’ You asked him, your worry was showing in your eyes and the little crease between your eyebrows.
‘’I miss my girl. I haven’t been able to hangout with her for almost a week and that’s way, way too long.’’ He kissed your forehead. ‘’I’m sorry I have been such a shitty friend.’’
‘’It’s ok, you’re busy and you have things to do. You can’t always have time for me.’’
‘’From now on, I’ll always make time for you.’’ He smiled and put your foreheads together. ‘’I really want to spend time with you because I really do miss you but right now all I have energy for is sleeping. Can I do that here? With you?’’
Your grin was all the answer he needed. He quickly put his arms around you and brought you with him when he turned to lie on his back. He tucked you into his side with the covers between you, letting you rest your head on his chest which allowed him to run his fingers through your hair to help you fall asleep.
‘’Good night, Sweets.’’
‘’Good night, Jamie.’’
Within a minute, the both of you were out cold.
Now that you had added this new ‘’activity’’ to the list of things you did together, it got a little easier to spend time together during busy days. It was easier for you to go to bed at a reasonable hour when you had someone waiting for you. It always made you laugh whenever Bucky would come into your bedroom, half-asleep from the day he’s had because he’s a super-soldier he’s not supposed to be this tired but you guess that’s what happens when your best friend is Steve Rogers, the overachiever who doesn’t like taking breaks. Ever.
Those nights, Bucky would come in wearing sweats and a tank top and get on your bed, crawl to you for dramatic effect and then lie down on top of you. He’d hide his face in your neck, stay awake long enough to ask you how you were doing and then he was out. If you were stroking his hair, then he’d just pass out mid-sentence.
Bucky went from avoiding people at all costs, to learning to trust people and himself around people, to craving being touched or hugged all the time. Not by just anyone though, it had to be you. Always you.
‘’Where’s Bucky?’’ You asked Steve after entering the gym, one afternoon.
‘’His room. Why? Something wrong?’’
"Thank you.’’ You said over your shoulder already halfway through the door and in the hall.
You knocked on his door and waited for his permission before entering.
‘’Hey, Sweets.’’ He smiled from where he was sitting on his bed, reading.
‘’Why aren’t you training?’’ You frowned, coming to stand next to his bed.
‘’I was hoping you’d say that!’’ The excitement in your voice made him frown and close his book.
‘’What did I do for you to be excited that I’m in pain?’’
You froze, slightly embarrassed. ‘’Oh, no. I’m sorry.’’ You shook your head and held out your hand in front of you to show Bucky a little tub of cream. ‘’I’ve been trying to stop getting so excited. I’m sorry. It’s just that I finished the cream for your shoulder and I think this time I got it right. I was happy that’d you’d be able to try it and hopefully it’ll work and you won’t be in pain anymore in a few minutes.’’
‘’Hey.’’ Bucky said softly, putting an end to your rambling. ‘’Never apologize to me for being yourself.’’
You almost apologized again but Bucky gave you a warning glare, making you laugh instead.
‘’Now, come on. Let’s try it.’’ He took off his shirt and watched as you straddled his lap and started rubbing in the cream.
You were very meticulous, you needed to make sure all the skin directly connected to his arm was covered.
‘’Now we just have to wait a few minutes to see if it works.’’ You put the cream down on the mattress next to you. ‘’What have you been reading?’’ You asked pushing his hair to his right side, making sure not to get cream on them.
‘’One of my favorite books from the 30s, Steve got it for me.’’
You smiled. ‘’That was sweet of him. What is it about?’’
‘’Nothing interesting.’’ He shrugged.
‘’Something has to be interesting if it’s one of your favorite books and Steve took the time to find it for you. C’mon. You listen to me talk about my work and research all the time, I want to hear about what you like.’’
‘’Are you sure?’’
You nodded with a big smile to show him you really were interested.
That’s when the flood gate opened and now Bucky couldn’t stop talking even if he wanted to. He had tried talking about his book with Steve but Steve was never interested and barely listened to him. He liked having someone to talk to that actually listened to him from start to finish. He spent most of the time explaining the book to you with his head down, flipping through pages as he did so. At some point Bucky looked up at you and his breath hitched in his throat at the sight in front of him. You were looking at him, truly listening to what he was saying and you had this cute little smile you always have whenever you’re happy and relaxed. What caught his breath though was the look in your eyes. He can’t remember the last time someone looked at him with that much love and adoration in their eyes, he wonders if it ever even happened before.
He couldn’t resist any longer and leaned in to kiss you. He was severely out of practice but he couldn’t think of anyone better to have his ‘’first’’ kiss with.
He started to panic when you didn’t kiss him back and started pulling away but you stopped him by kissing him back. He had forgotten all about kissing. He had forgotten how soft lips could be, how one simple touch like that could make him feel weak and strong all at once, how his heart would flutter and butterflies roamed free in his stomach. Most of all, he had forgotten how intoxicating it was to kiss someone you love and now that he remembers, he never wants to stop. When you broke apart, Bucky leaned back against his headboard to look at you and smiled his big goofy grin. The James Bucky Barnes grin. He couldn’t feel any pain now in his shoulder, he just didn’t know whether it was because of your cream or just you and the power you have over him.
‘’The only thing I’m sorry about is how rusty I am at kissing.’’ He said to let you know that this wasn’t just a spur of the moment kind of thing.
‘’Apparently, practicing helps a lot with those kinds of problems.’’
‘’You’re probably right.’’ He put down his book on his nightstand and then brought his hands to your waist to pull you closer. ‘’Think you can help me with that?’’
You wrapped your arms around the back of his neck just as he kissed you again. One of your hands held onto the back of his neck while you ran your fingers through Bucky’s hair with the other.
Maybe Bucky should feel embarrassed about how one simple touch from you makes a big, strong super-soldier like himself melt so easily but he honestly didn’t care.
Bucky had spent decades trying to avoid people touching him at all costs, even as he slowly began to become the man he once was. Just the thought of having someone put their hands on him made his skin crawl. Yet here he was needing and craving your touch, he loved the way his skin felt on fire wherever you were touching him. It made him feel alive, human and no longer like the emotionless assassin he used to be.
He had spent so much time avoiding other people’s touch and now he’d be ready to do or give anything to make sure that it would never stop.
For the first time since he woke up after falling off the train Bucky isn’t afraid to give control to someone else. You were the one thing since 1943 that Bucky wasn’t afraid of, that he didn’t regret.
One simple touch is all it took to change everything.
It's been so long since I've written anything for Bucky! Hopefully this is not too bad!
@n3ssm0nique | @lover-of-bucky | @beingagodsucks | @littlemissthistle | @dancer3205 | @thatblondebrownie | @rainbowkisses31 | @benbarnesbussy | @bucky-hues
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Pairing: Avengers X Fem!reader
GIFs belong to their creators.
Part 1 here (Tony, Steve, Thor, Natasha and Wanda)
AVENGERS WHEN YOU'RE PREGNANT:
Vision would be kinda nervous. He is still learning how to deal with human experiences and the idea of becoming a father makes him ask so many questions. Anyway, when he first sees your bump, every doubt he has simply disappears. From that moment on, he keeps asking you to put his hear on your bump to hear the baby. "It's moving!" He enthusiastically says when the child kicks. You smile and caress his head, so happy to see that he is full of joy.
Sam couldn't be more excited. The idea of becoming a father gives him life, literally. He is so thoughtful, always making sure you're okay and comfortable. He caresses your bump every single moment he can and he talks to the baby very often. "Today, your mum is stunning, wish you could see her." He says and looks at you, a tiny smile on his face. You chuckle and caress his cheek. "Your father isn't bad himself." You say and he kisses you, his heart filled with joy.
Pietro loves the idea of having a child with you, but he knows the world can be cruel, so he wants to keep you and the baby safe. Since you told him about the pregnancy, he became even more protective of you. He loves when the baby kicks and gets all excited. "Oh my God, was that a kick?!" He says and puts his hand on your bump, you laugh. "This baby is pretty lively," you say and caress Pietro's face. "Like the father." You conclude and he smiles, his eyes stuck into yours and his hand still on your baby. "I'm always going to protect you both, you know that?" He asks, his expression getting serious. You softly nod. "I know, my love."
For as much as he's young, Peter never once hesitated about the idea of becoming a dad since you first told him about the baby. He has been waiting for the baby to kick with such an impatience. "Was that a kick?" He asks and you shake your head with a smile. "Babe, the baby doesn't even has feet yet." You joke, watching him getting disappointed. One day, he's caressing your bump and the baby finally kicks for the first time. You both freeze, looking at each other in pure amazement. "Did you..." You ask and he nods, eyes watery. "I did," he says and looks at your bump. "You just kicked mummy, hi little one. I'm dad, Peter." He introduces himself and you almost cry, filled with happiness.
Bucky was initially scared. He believed he was not even capable of being a good father, but seeing you so happy and so convinced that everything was going to be okay made him realize that this was a pure gift and he was more than ready to take care of you both. He loves talking to the baby about random things. One night, you're cuddling lying down on your bed, talking about your day, when the baby kicks and he perceives it. He gets all serious and looks at you. "The baby!" He says, immediately putting his ear on your bump. You smile, caressing his head. "Someone wants to let us know about their day too." You joke and Bucky smiles, softly caressing your bump.
For as much as Loki never believed he deserved happiness, in the moment you told him, he immediately embraced the idea of becoming a father. This baby is his greatest joy, a gift that he's going to protect forever. He spends hours looking at you and your bump, finding your body chantings absolutely stunning. He talks to the baby a lot. "Are you going to be a baby God of Mischief too?" He asks and you tilt your head. "Or Goddess." You underline and he looks at you in pure wonder. "Right! I'm so curious to meet this little one." He says, pressing his lips on your bump and you ran your fingers through his hair, excited too.
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Summary: You’re no one special to him…
Pairing: Mobster!Bucky x Teacher!Reader
Characters: Steve Rogers, Dot
Warnings: angst, language, sad reader, unrequited love, cheating, Bucky is a douche, shy reader/soft reader, mentions of unprotected sex, unplanned pregnancy, a hint of fluff
Divider by @firefly-in-darkness
112 days ago, you met the man changing your life. He came into your life and swept you off of your feet. James, or Bucky as he wants you to call him was so different from any other man you met before him.
He didn’t give a shit on anything but you, and to be honest, you liked that very much. Bucky Barnes is a dangerous man, breathing authority and a strong man keeping you safe.
Sadly, you got a call from someone calling herself, Thursday. She said you are not Bucky’s only girlfriend and that she came before you, and still does.
“Why are we here? What’s your real name and why do you keep on calling me Friday?” that’s why you are sneaking into the restaurant you dined at with Bucky just yesterday. “Listen, this is not funny anymore. You said you know something about my boyfriend and why he only meets up with me on Fridays.”
“You are Friday, girl,” she huffs, annoyed. “I’m Thursday, that’s why he went on a date with me the day before yesterday. You know, he brings every girl here.”
“Every girl?” you splutter. “What do you mean with every girl? How many girls are we talking about?”
“Including you and me, six,” she jerks her head toward the table you normally occupy at a date night with Bucky. “That’s Saturday, he likes her the most.” Your heart sinks as Bucky laughs at something a petite blonde on his table says. “There is no girl for Sundays, as he spends weekends with her.”
“Oh,” your legs are about to give in as Thursday grabs your arm to steady you. “He—he never said something about other girls. Why would he do such a thing? Bucky can have every girl. Why go after me only to make me one of his…girls.”
“We all know about the other girls and that Bucky, and we are not exclusive. The other girls accepted our arrangement,” Thursday helps you sit on one of the chairs at a free table. “I called you as Wednesday told me you don’t know about the situation you are in. You are the only one, though.”
“How could he do this to me?” you hide your face in the palms of your hands, silently crying as your world crumbles down right in front of you whilst Bucky has dinner with another girl. “I asked him to spend the weekend with me more than once. Now I know he was with her, probably laughing about my love confessions. I’m such a fool.”
“James told us from the beginning he doesn’t want a relationship, commitment, or marriage. What I don’t get is that he never told you about the others,” you look at Thursday, offering her a cracked smile. “You know, I’m with him for the gifts and stuff. I’m a sugar babe. Saturday loves his reputation and that everyone respects her for being one of his girls. And the others—” she shrugs. “I don’t know about them.”
“I—I didn’t want to go out with him at first. He was charming, yet pushy. I wasn’t used to someone being that attentively. I’m rather shy,” tears run down your cheeks as Bucky laughs loudly at something the waiter said. The same waiter serving you food just yesterday. He made you laugh too, acting like he didn’t know you are no one special to Bucky. “Guess he lied to get what he wanted.”
“Oh, you are a good girl, huh? I bet you waited for the second date to go all in,” Thursday sits next to you to pat your hand. “Right?”
“I waited much longer,” shyly glancing at Bucky you feel the heartbreak get worse. He gives the blonde your smile and touches her hand gently. “Now I know he gave me time as he fucked five other girls in the meantime.”
“Y/N, my name is Y/N Y/L/N and not Friday,” you raise your voice, making Thursday flinch. “I did not agree to this kind of relationship. Maybe I was blinded by my feelings and my stupid heart telling me Bucky needs more time to—”
“Y/N, a nice name,” she gives you an apologetic smile, but it doesn’t reach her eyes. “Sorry, I didn’t want to interrupt you but, Bucky and Saturday are done eating. I guess they want to go soon.”
“Great. He will take her home and fuck her, just like he did with me last night,” you cry, hating people start to look in your direction. “Shit, I’ll need to see a doctor. I had unprotected sex with that lying bastard,” angrily clenching your jaw you regret you ever let Bucky touch you. “I want to go now, Thursday.”
“Dot,” Thursday says. “The girl over there is Aimèe. That bitch believes she’s someone special.”
“Maybe she is. James spent every weekend with her, not me,” you slowly get up from the chair. “Thank you for opening my eyes, Dot.”
Next Friday, in front of your working place, …
“Doll, I was worried,” Bucky jogs toward you, a single red rose in his hands. “You look tired,” he cocks his head as you don’t jump at him as you usually do to wrap your arms around his neck and kiss him softly. “Something wrong, baby doll?”
“Why? Oh, is it already Friday, Mr. Barnes?” you quip, eyes glued to your students as they walk past you and Bucky. “Is it my turn or do you want to skip my day and go for Aimèe right away? She’s your favorite, isn’t she?”
Bucky’s face falls. His throat feels suddenly too dry and to his horror you look up at him with tear-clouded eyes. “Doll, I can explain.”
“Why would you do such a thing, James? Why would you lie to me and pretend you love me? Why making me fall in love when all you wanted was another girl for another day.”
“Y/N, it’s not like that. I swear, with you it’s different,” he steps closer, but for the first time, you flinch away. Bucky frowns, as you never denied him before. “I love you. The others are just…”
“Sugar babes?” you chuckle humorlessly. “I’m not like that, and you knew it. Still, you gaslighted me into believing you only have one free day for me. I believed you love me, but you are not able to love anyone but yourself.”
“Please, let’s talk things out.”
“I want you to love me every day of the week, not just one day,” you sniff, wiping your eyes. “Whilst you planned a date with another girl, I dreamed of a future with you, James. I loved you so much I didn’t see the red flags.”
“Baby, please,” he whispers as you slap his hand away. “Let me take you home. I swear you are special to me.”
“Not special enough for you to let go of the other girls,” ignoring the tears streaming down your face you put on a brave face. “Aimèe is the special girl in your harem. You spend your weekends with her. I only wanted one weekend but,” you touch his cheek gently, fingertips running over his scruffy skin, “I wasn’t important enough to you to give me that.”
“Baby—doll,” he tries. “I do love you.”
“No, you don’t,” swallowing the hurting you give Bucky a once over to memorize his features. “If you would excuse me now, I got an appointment with my doctor. Thanks to you I have to let her run a few tests. Having unprotected sex with a cheater was the stupidest thing I have ever done.”
“Y/N, I only had sex with you,” you walk away, ignoring Bucky following you, calling your name. “Please, since we are a thing I didn’t fuck anyone else…baby doll. I only love you.”
“Fuck you,” getting in your car you slam the door shut, exhaling a breath you didn’t you held. “I hope you find a new Friday soon…”
“All test results are negative,” nodding you look at your hands. “Y/N, there is something we need to talk about.”
“But you said the results were negative,” panicked you look up at your doctor. “What’s wrong with me?”
“Nothing,” she smiles softly. “It’s just… You told me about your boyfriend and now I don’t know if I will tell you good news or bad news.”
“Just say it.”
“Y/N, you are pregnant,” you start to laugh loudly. Tears run down your cheeks, and you snort at your doctor’s pained expression.
“Isn’t that just…ironic? I always wanted kids and now that I found out that my boyfriend has five more girlfriends, I get pregnant. Just great,” wiping your eyes you look at your doctor. “What the actual fuck!”
“Anything yet,” whipping his head toward his right-hand man Bucky frowns. “Steve, I asked you to check on Y/N and the test results.”
“All negative but one,” Steve grumbles, reluctantly handing Bucky your file. “You should leave the girl alone.”
“I pay you for your service, not advice. She’s the one, Steve. Y/N is sweet, smart, and soft. She’s so cute and I love the way she sounds when we make love. I can press the dirtiest and cutest noises out of her.”
“Why keep the others around then?” the blonde grunts. “If you like her that much, you should’ve given up on the others a long time ago.”
“I had to be sure she’s the one and, I didn’t fuck the others since I met Y/N. Dot, Aimèe, and the others, I wanted to give them a proper goodbye. They’ll all get 10 k bucks, a car, and they can keep the gifts. I broke things up with Saturday last week, at the restaurant. She wasn’t too happy, but the money made it easier for her to look for another sugar daddy.”
“You got it bad for that girl, huh?” Steve smirks. “Maybe you should have a look at the file before you admit your love. I don’t know if you are ready for…this…”
“Doll, open the door! I—I broke things up with the girls last month. I know you saw me with Aimèe, but this was more like a business meeting. I broke things up with her, just like I did with Natasha, Dot, and the others.”
“What?” opening the door a crack you look at Bucky. “Why are you here? I told you to leave me alone.”
“I broke things up with the other girls and I swear, I didn’t have sex with them since we got together,” he pants heavily. “Dot came to you to mess things up between us. The other girls accepted I ended our arrangement, but Dot freaked out. She wanted to ruin what we have.”
“We have shit, Bucky,” he smirks as you try to close the door. “Now get lost and look for a new Friday.”
“Doll, it is Saturday and I’d like to spend the first of many weekends with you,” Bucky steps closer to grip the door, holding it open. “Now let me in and we can talk.”
“I don’t care if you broke things up with the other girls, Bucky. You were with five other girls when you asked me out! All I know is that you tried to turn me into Friday. I never was your girlfriend, just another notch on your belt.”
“At first,” he admits. “But then I got to know you better and fell in love with you. I wanted to tell you about the others but then, I decided it’s better to let them go and only have you in my life.”
“How very generous of you,” you spat. “If you would excuse me now, I got better things to do than listening to your lies.”
“No lies,” you back away as he forces his way into your apartment. “Now, do you have to tell me something, dollface? How about we start with the things your doctor told you a few days ago?”
“I don’t know what you are talking about,” you splutter, afraid Bucky knows about your pregnancy. “I want you to go…now.” You point at the door but the cocky mobster simply kicks it shut with his boot. “BUCKY!”
“I love you, inside and outside,” he purrs, hands cradling your face. “You should know, I always get what I want, and I want you. From now on, there will only be you, me, and the little bean in your belly.”
“I,” feeling light-headed you look up at Bucky with wide, fearful eyes. “I don’t know what you are talking about.”
“You know exactly what I am talking about, doll,” pecking your lips softly he smirks. “We will talk things out, and then, you will tell me what I must do to earn your forgiveness. But we will not part ways. You are my girl, the baby is mine and, I love you.”
“You can’t make things up to me, Bucky,” kissing you deeply he cups the back of your neck. “I mean it.”
“I’ll win you over again,” he smirks darkly. “You will fall hard for James Buchanan Barnes, dollface. And then, we are going to marry…”
“In your dreams…”
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