#bucky barnes x you
angrythingstarlight · a day ago
Reminds me of the latest Bumblebee Drabble
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Pairing: Mafia!Bucky x Reader
Warnings: Fluff
A/N: Written on my phone, unbeta'd.
《Masterlist》《Bumblebee Masterlist》《Library》
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“You know one day you’re going to have to tell her ‘no’, right?” Resting your chin on Bucky’s shoulder, you gaze down at Bumblebee sleeping in his arms.
His charcoal grey Saint Laurent suit is a stark dichotomy to her magenta onesie with a cartoon bumblebee stitched on the front.
Everyone outside your little family only knows him as a ruthless, stoic mobster, but Bucky vows that you and little Bumblebee will never see that part of him.
She has one hand wrapped around his finger, her chubby cheeks covered in wisps of left over cotton candy.
You could watch him hold her for hours. The sight of your tall mobster cradling her in his large tatted hands, the way he’s still terrified of dropping her so he’s cautious and gentle, holding her as if she were a delicate doll, makes your heart twist and flutter.
She’s exhausted from playing at the miniature Disneyland Bucky surprised her and you with only hours ago. He had the games and rides brought in on a whim after he realized she hadn’t been to the amusement park yet.
Bucky lifts his eyes from her sleeping face and gazes warmly at you. Adjusting her, he frees one of his arms and his hand slides around the back of your head, pushing you closer until your lips are nearly touching. “I’ll tell her no when I start telling you no."
“I- you.” Your mouth snaps shut and you fight the unabashed smile tugging at your lips. It’s not your fault your husband likes to spoil you.
“That’s what I thought,” he murmurs, his lips slotting against yours, he claims you with a languid, passionate kiss. Breaking away, he grins at you, his nose nudging yours before glancing down at your baby. “I’m going to make sure she’s spoiled and loved. Just like her beautiful mama."
689 notes · View notes
duuhrayliegh · 2 days ago
what’s it like
a/n: idk what this is, it’s smut but it was written in pieces and idk if it’s any good, sorry y’all i’m all over the fucking place rn
check out my other writings (more coherent writings)
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      Red wine flowed from your glass into your mouth, swirling enticingly as you gulped down the sweet liquid. You followed the pleasant burn of it as it slipped down your throat.  
“I’m not kidding.” Natasha leaned forward, topping off her own glass with more of Tony’s expensive wine.
“And he just kept going?” Wanda’s mouth dropped open as Natasha giggled while nodding in ascent to her question.
“Had my legs shaking, I swear.” She held up three fingers, “Scout’s honor.”
You laughed, digging your hand into the bowl of Cheetos tucked between your legs. Wanda shook her head, seemingly not believing what Natasha was telling her.
“I didn’t know that Sam had it in him.”
“Wan,” Natasha’s hand landed on Wanda’s knee, “Neither did I. It was almost too much, almost.”
Her voice dropped an octave on the final word, waggling a perfectly sculpted brow at her gaping teammate.
“What?” Natasha stole a few chips from your bowl as she questioned Wanda. “You’ve never had that kind of experience?”
“Mm,” you mumbled behind a mask of Cheetos, “yeah, how’s that work with Vision? I mean, it’s not like he has a—”
“Ah, bup bup.” Wanda cut you off quickly, “Vision knows everything, so he’s very skilled. Apparently not as skilled as Sam, but I mean he’s still learning so…”
Wanda let the statement hang, clinking the body of her glass with Natasha’s. She turned her attention your way, clearly readying herself to ask you a question.
“Well, it’s late, ladies.” They both began to protest, but you simply waved off their remarks. “No, no. I’ve got to get up and, like, be productive tomorrow. Sorry, loves.”
You tapped them both on the shoulders as you passed, dropping your glass off in the sink on your way out of the living room. There wasn’t a single thing that either of them could’ve said to keep you there any longer. Not if that was the topic of conversation. The ‘that’ being sex, of course, because it’s hard to talk about something that you’ve never experienced before.
You trudged back to your room, two floors above the common room. Deciding that you were too lazy to take the stairs, you pushed the button for the private elevators. The ones that Tony made specifically to avoid the other SHIELD agents who worked at the tower on a regular basis.
The railing of the elevator held your weight as it made its climb up the floors. Your eyes slid closed, mind running back to the conversation that you were just a privileged party of. You couldn’t even think of the last time someone took a particular interest in you, much less left you with your legs shaking.
The elevator slowed to a halt, doors opening to reveal a flushed looking Sergeant, your favorite Sergeant. Bucky smiled at you before wiping his brow with the towel that hung over his shoulder. You weren’t particularly good friends with the Sergeant. Not by choice. Honestly, if you had it your way then you two would converse freely, without the worry of judgment by either party.
As you began to prepare yourself for an awkwardly silent ascent alongside Bucky, a hand forced its way into the closing elevator doors. Sam shot a look at Bucky before speaking.
“Dude, I told you to wait for me.”
“You were taking too damn long.”
You snorted, remembering Natasha saying quite the opposite of him. Bucky furrowed his brows at the noise you made, clearly not caring enough to make him question you, though.
“I was not taking too long.” He shifted his bag to his other shoulder as the elevator began to climb again. “I’m just movin’ a bit slower today.”
Bucky grunted, a sound Sam took as a question.
“Super fucking sore from my mission the other day.”
A singular loud laugh escaped your lips, making you slap your hand over your mouth as both men turned to look at you.
“Something amusing, Y/N?”
You looked at your feet, giggling as the doors opened onto the floor your room was on. You slapped Sam’s shoulder as you passed.
“It’s just funny. Natasha was saying something about being sore earlier, as well.”
Sam’s jaw dropped as Bucky whipped his head around to face his friend, eyes wide in shock. You watched as Bucky punched Sam’s bicep before stepping out of the elevator too. He muttered under his breath as he walked to his own room.
“Sore from a mission, my ass.”
No matter how hard Bucky tried, he always got up with the sun. He would love to be someone who could sleep in until the later hours of the morning. He typically found himself lying in bed a few extra minutes, delaying his daily routine as long as he could.
This particular morning it was easier. He had something to think about. Usually, he would be laying there with no thoughts in his head other than the seemingly endless list of names that he needed to make amends with. No, this morning was different.
He was thinking of that damn elevator ride last night. He was kicking himself for not making conversation with Y/N for one floor. With his eyes closed he could recall you perfectly. He thought of the rosy tint to your cheeks and the subtle scent of Tony’s plum wine on your breath. Then he remembered you pushed through him and Sam, your chest just barely grazing the metal of his left arm. The nerve endings that Shuri created for the limb allowing him to feel your nipples through the fabric of your t-shirt.
Great, now he had to deal with his hard-on before he could do anything else.
Bucky couldn’t think straight around you, so he just stayed silent. Not wanting you to see him as a fool, opting for you to think he was standoffish so he could admire you from a safe distance. That’s where he belonged anyway. A safe distance from you. He knows that a relationship would never be something you consider with him. He’s a 106-year-old man for Christ’s sake, what would a twenty-something year-old woman want with him?
He untwisted the lid of his protein container, adding the proper amount to his shaker bottle before dumping the scoop back into the protein jar. He shoved the container into the cabinet on the top shelf, turning back to find you walking into the kitchen. His eyes roamed your figure before stopping dead in his tracks as he registered what you were wearing.
His favorite red henley covered your body, stopping just below your ass cheeks, giving him the show that he didn’t know he needed until this very moment. Your socked feet padded along the kitchen tiles as you gathered the ingredients for what looked like pancakes.
“You going to work out this morning or do you want some pancakes?” You pushed the question out through a yawn. Your eyes closed with the motion, allowing Bucky the opportunity to watch as your nose wrinkled. The freckles decorating your face begging to be traced with little, feather-light kisses.
Bucky watched as you stretched to reach a bowl in one of the high cabinets. Against his better judgment, his eyes dropped to the rising hem of his shirt, lifting just enough to expose the round globes of your ass. The seams of your underwear indented the plush flesh there, letting his mind run wild with the thought of digging his teeth into one of your cheeks.
He turned away from you, cock stirring in his shorts as he leaned his hands against the countertop in front of the sink. He took a deep breath, steadying his nerves as he promptly dumped his protein shake down the drain.
“Yeah, I’ll take a few pancakes.” Bucky crossed the kitchen, opening the fridge to pour a glass of orange juice. By that time, you had set about mixing the batter together. Unfortunately, you were standing right in front of the cabinet containing the cups.
There were a few ways that Bucky could navigate this situation. One would be to ask you to hand him the cups from the cabinet directly above your head. The more dangerous option would be to move you himself. The latter offered him the opportunity to feel your supple form through the fabric of his fucking henley. He went with his initial gut reaction. Should he have? Probably not but fuck it.
His right hand cupped the skin of your hip, feeling the slight bulge of skin there. As Bucky leaned forward, he attempted to keep his lower half from pressing into you as much as he could. He truly didn’t want to push any boundaries with you, knowing that you were too damn young for him. That fact didn’t stop his body from reacting to your presence in the most agonizing fashions.
“You know,” his voice barely a whisper as he reached for the cups above your head, “I’ve been looking for that shirt.”
Bucky’s eyes flickered down to your face before turning away from you with two cups in his grasp. He yanked the fridge door open to reach for the orange juice container.
“What’re you talking about?”
He could hear your exhaustion clinging to your words. He decided to push a bit further as he placed the now full glass beside the stove you were working at.
“The henley.” Bucky paused briefly, leaning against the granite countertop opposite you. “More specifically, my henley.”
His head tilted to the side as you dropped your chin against your chest, seemingly taking in the item of clothing on your body. Bucky smiled softly as the bun on top of your head flopped forward with the motion. You turned around to face him quickly, spatula in hand.
“I’m sorry.” He watched as you stuck your arm out, gesturing for him to take the utensil. “I’ll go change really quick. I thought it was Sam’s.”
Bucky stepped forward, his metal hand resting on your wrist and pushing it downwards.
“Would you leave it on if it was?”
He watched the split second of hesitation flash in your eyes.
The word was paired with a slight shrug of your shoulder, and a dip in your mouth making your chin wrinkle in the most adorable way. God, he wanted to just hold your face in his hands and just stare into your eyes for as long as you would let him.
Bucky took another step forward, effectively pinning you against the countertop beside the stove. His eyes locked with yours as he leveled his face to yours. He glanced down at the red fabric covering your torso. He found his fingers bunching the middle of the fabric, pulling it away from your body to roll between his forefinger and thumb.
“Then it’s Sam’s.”
Bucky promptly dropped the fabric and walked away just after the words left his mouth. Again, should he have done that? Probably fucking not, but Bucky’s learned to let himself enjoy the little things in life. Like the way your thighs just clenched together at his close proximity to you.
You sat on the couch, a plush throw blanket covering your legs and a mug of steaming tea in your hand. You trailed your finger on the rim of the cup, mind running back to your latest interaction with Bucky. It wasn’t unusual for you to obsess over your own actions because you were always worried that the other person was going to think you were an asshole. It was rare that you focused so heavily on the actions of your conversation partner, but god damn.
Bucky fucking Barnes.
You might be a twenty-three-year-old virgin, but that man could get it if he wanted it. ‘It’ being your virginity. Any day of the week.
You knew you probably shouldn’t be having thoughts about a man who, for most of the time you’ve known him, has shown you little reason to believe that he was romantically interested in you. Or physically attracted to you, for that matter. Though, you couldn’t deny that you saw a flicker of something behind his eyes in the kitchen a few days back.
He was closer than usual, granting you the privilege of seeing the dark ring of blue circling his irises. You wondered what it would be like to watch his pupils dilate in reaction to something you did.
To watch the subtle twitch of his very controlled emotions because of you.
“Whatcha watchin’, doll?”
You jumped at his voice. The man that’s kept your mind captivated for the past week.
Bucky fucking Barnes.
He settled his large frame on the couch beside you, lifting your legs that were sprawled out on the cushions to sit underneath them. His metal hand laid on your knee above the blanket, but you could feel the palm of it burning your skin.
“I don’t think I’ve seen this one, yet.”
Your eyes never left Bucky’s profile, barely registering that he was still speaking to you.
“Y/N? Are you okay?”
He scooted closer to you, placing his flesh hand on your cheek before dragging it to your forehead. Bucky’s eyes ran over your face, worry dancing across his brow. You snapped from your trance, the back of his palm still pressed against your forehead.
“You run hotter than all of us. Do you think you’d be able to tell if I had a fever that way?”
It came out harsher than you wanted it to. Bucky didn’t seem bothered by your comment, pinning you with a lopsided grin that made your cheeks heat.
“My Ma always checked that way.” He jerked his head to the mounted TV, “Whatcha watchin’?”
“Nothing in particular. Do you want to watch something?”
Bucky shook his head, pulling out his phone and opening the notes app.
“I don’t know, Sam wrote down a bunch of stuff I should watch now that I’m ‘acclimated to society’ or some shit.” He handed you the device, “Anything look appealing to you?”
Yes, you look appealing to me.
“He wants you to watch a rom-com?”
“The fuck’s a rom-com?”
“It’s a romantic comedy.” You reached for the remote. “You okay with that?”
“As long as you pick a good one, dolly, I’m down for anything.” Bucky’s words made you flush, trying to concentrate on finding the movie you thought of.
About thirty minutes into 27 Dresses, you shifted causing the blanket to slip from your calves, exposing your painted toes. A chill ran up your spine at the sudden temperature change, a movement that didn’t go unnoticed by your companion.
“What’s wrong?” His question was immediate.
You waved it off, “Nothing just a chill. Can you cover my feet, please?”
Bucky glanced at your bare feet. “You aren’t wearing socks. You always wear socks.”
The movie was still playing in the background, but you were fully focused on the words leaving Bucky’s mouth.
“I don’t always wear socks.” You stressed the ‘always’ sarcastically because you knew that was a damn lie. “All of mine are in the wash right now, so I’m making do.”
Bucky’s eyes narrowed, scanning your face. He tapped your legs and abruptly left the room.
“Bucky!” You had just managed to get yourself untangled from the blanket wrapped around your legs to pause the movie when Bucky returned.
He held a pair of his own socks in one hand and one of his henley’s thrown over his shoulder. He plopped back onto the sofa beside you. Bucky nodded down to his lap, in which you carefully placed your legs with curious eyes watching on.
Bucky tugged his socks onto your feet then covered your toes with his hands, rubbing them between his palms to create heat from the friction. He refocused on the show after tossing his henley at your face.
“Put it on. I know you’re still cold, even with this damn thing on.”
“You didn’t have to do that.” You stared at the soft shirt in your hands as you spoke to him.
“Can’t have my dolly being cold, now, can I?” Bucky ran his thumb over your ankle. You felt his eyes on you as you pulled the shirt on. “Sorry, it’s not Sam’s. You’ll just have to make do with mine.”
He threw you a wink before immersing himself back into the movie, his movements on your ankle never ceasing. Meanwhile, you could feel your cheeks becoming as red as the fabric of Bucky’s henley.
It became a bit of a ritual between the two of you. Over the next few months, Bucky was sure to do whatever he could to spend time with you. Despite knowing you had no real interest in him, Bucky made it his mission to be around you as much as possible.
“Hiya, dolly.”
Bucky had been stationed at one of the punching bags in the corner of the room when you walked into the gym. He dropped his stance, taking in your frame in another one of his stolen shirts. This was one of the more recent developments. One that he was enamored with.
Bucky adored seeing you in his clothes, even in this undefined, in-between platonic relationship the two of you shared.
“Hey, Buck.” You smiled at him, dropping your bag onto the floor in front of the wall of mirrors. He watched as you walked over to the bag across from him as you wrapped your knuckles.
Bucky had a much harder time concentrating on his own workout. How the hell was he supposed to? You were behind that damn bag, letting loose all those cute little groans and grunts as your fists connected with the leather.
“Here.” He walked over, tired of seeing you stop your workout to halt the swaying of the bag. He braced himself for the impact of your fists.
You glanced up at him through your lashes with raised brows, waiting for his go-ahead. Once Bucky gave you a nod, you continued your work-out.
Was Bucky a creep? There’s a very real possibility that’s a true statement.
You kept his shirt on, allowing him to take you in with sweat glistening on your body in his clothes. The thoughts beginning to formulate weren’t helping his situation. You had just finished a particularly intense pattern of hits when you groaned. Bucky took in your new stance away from the bag, hands on your hips as you pulled his shirts over your hips, using the fabric to hold your hands.
“Will you spar with me?” You took a step back again to grab your water.
This is a bad idea, but that didn’t stop Bucky from saying yes. He wasn’t sure if there was a situation that he would say no to you in.
The both of you began fighting. Bucky was always impressed with the force of your hits. He thought back to when he first started integrating into the team. You were already recruited by Natasha, and had been training with her for about three years before Bucky was brought in.
He could tell you were becoming fatigued, your movements sloppy and uncalculated. You threw a punch to his left side, but it was slow and careless. He caught your fist, spinning your body around while placing his right arm around your chest. Bucky paused a minute, his breathing syncing with the rapid rise and fall of your breasts against his arm.
“What’s up with you?” His breath bounced off your ear and hit his neck, only to be quickly flipped. You stepped under his arm during his concern for you, knocking the back of his knee before using your body weight to pin him to the ground.
“Nothing.” You smiled wide at him, giggling a little as you had his hands pressed against the mats by his wrists. “Sympathy is a powerful weapon.”
Bucky bit the inside of his cheek to stop from laughing out loud. He suddenly hooked one leg behind yours, planting his foot on your hip and slamming your back onto the vinyl mat of the floor. Bucky remained snug between your legs, holding your hands to the floor with just one of his.
He stretched his arm out, pulling yours along with it as he leaned down to you. Bucky didn’t want to think about how he felt in this position with you. He didn’t want to let his mind run wild with thoughts about having you pinned like this in his bed. He didn’t want to think about having your hands tied to his headboard while he pulled every delicious sound out of you that he could.
He especially didn’t want to think about how his cock was rubbing against the fabric of your leggings, but fuck was it a good thought.
“Distraction is better. And I’ve got a few years on ya, so experience doesn’t help.”
“That’s cheating.” You laughed, “I had you pinned, I won!”
“I didn’t know we were competing, dolly.” He let go of your wrists, settling his weight backwards as you sat up on your elbows.
“But let’s be honest, if we were competing in who could finish a fight I would win.” Bucky took the opportunity to squeeze your hips before getting up and offering his hand to you.
You laughed beside him as the two of you exited the gym to go to the elevators. You shoved his arm as the two of you entered the elevator, going down a floor to the shared kitchen area.
“Hey guys. We’re having a movie marathon tonight. Want in?” Sam was leaning over Natasha's shoulder as she sat in one of the bar stools. Bucky envied his friend, he wanted to be close to you like Sam was with Natasha.
“I’m down. You comin’, Y/N?” Bucky peered down at you hoping you would say yes. You seemed to be in a bit of a daze as you answered though.
“I’ll come for you anytime.”
All of Bucky’s blood rushed to his cock as you stammered an explanation.
“Uh— wait, no, I— ugh, damn it. You know what, I'm going to go shower, I’ll see you guys tonight!”
“What the actual fuck? Who the hell are you? When did we just start speaking our mind?” You muttered under your breath as you raced up the stairs. Away from the awkward situation that you created for yourself.
“Oh god, let’s be honest, you’ve always spoken your mind, but not that kind of shit, you dumbass.” You slapped your forehead lightly, dragging your hand down your face in frustration.
“And now you’re talking to yourself. Wonderful.” You trudged to your room, hoping that a hot shower would make you feel better.
The spray of the showerhead beat down onto your body, relaxing the muscles as you washed the shampoo from your hair. You let your hands rest on your shoulders, a sigh of exhaustion escaping as you turned your face toward the water.
As much as you didn’t want them to, your thoughts ran back to your training session with Bucky. You hadn’t known that he was in there, but you were pleasantly surprised when you first saw him. Your relationship with the Sergeant was rocky at the start, but you were ecstatic that it began flourishing as well as it is. You were content to harbor the little school girl crush a little while longer, knowing that it won’t amount to anything in reality.
The longer you lingered on the memories of your most recent encounter with the man, the farther your hands began to drift. Your fingers danced over your own skin, eventually landing right where you wanted them to.
With your eyes closed, it was Bucky’s hands on your body.
With your eyes closed, you were bending to his will.
With your eyes closed, Bucky was knocking at your bathroom door and asking if you were okay.
“Oh shit!” Your eyes popped open as you yanked your hand away from your body, slamming into the tiled wall.
“Dolly?” Bucky’s fist hit the door, the damn thing bouncing in the frame with the force of his pounding. “What was that? You okay?”
“I’m fine.” Your voice strained as you wrapped a white towel around your body. “Hang on.”
How the hell were you going to play this one off?
You held your towel to your body with one hand, the other reaching for the doorknob only to have the whole damn thing ripped away from you as Bucky bent to your level. His hands roamed your arms, confirming that there weren’t any injuries before settling both large palms on your cheeks.
“What the hell, dolly?” His blue eyes locked onto yours. It felt like he’s trying to read your mind with how enrapturing his gaze is.
“I’m fine, Bucky.” As much as you wanted to have his hands on you for as long as humanly possible, you needed to create some distance between you. If you don’t, you might make a bigger fool of yourself by asking to kiss him.
“I’m sorry if I worried you, but really I’m okay.” Bucky hadn’t moved from his original place in front of your bathroom door. You could feel his eyes follow your movements about your room, watching as you gathered clothes for the team movie night.
“I need to bandage your hand before we go down.” He left no room for argument, so you ducked your head as you escaped back into the en suite.
At this exact moment, Bucky was happy to have been injected with the serum.
Bucky stared at the closed door of your bathroom. He knew he wasn’t imagining when he heard you moan. He wasn’t lying when he said he was worried. No, that part wasn’t a lie.
He wasn’t sure how entirely truthful he would be if you asked him how long he stood there before knocking on your door.
Bucky needed to cool down.
Like, right now.
He backed away as he dragged his fingers through his hair. Every sound that came out of your mouth was running through his head on a loop. He did try to ignore it, he shouldn’t be thinking of you that way. You deserved more than to have him think of you like that.
Truthfully, he just wanted to have a reason to think of you that way, one that came directly from you.
Bucky felt a billow of warm air blow from the swing of your bathroom door. Your hair, still damp from the shower, stuck to your bare shoulders. He could tell you toweled your hair off in an effort to lessen the amount of water in the strands by the bit of frizz that began forming at the top of your head.
“Sorry.” The closer you got, the easier Bucky could see the droplets of water clinging to your skin. His eyes followed their path as they raced down your exposed flesh. He wanted nothing more than to lick the remaining water off you, if you’d let him.  
“It’s fine.” He said quickly.
Bucky jerked his head toward the door, smiling down at you as he led the way to the theater room. He pushed his way into the darkness that was immediately contrasted by the flatscreen of Tony’s design.
“Where do you want to sit?” He saw one of your shoulders lift out of the corner of his eye. “Alright, I get that you don’t want to pick. Just grab us a seat in the back corner, I’ll get us some snacks.”
“Thank you.” You practically skipped to the seats, making Bucky smile as he grabbed a few junk snacks in his arms.
Bucky’s smile remained as he watched you snuggled into a blanket that was draped over the back of the couch.
“Scootch over.” Tapping your thigh with the back of his hand, he took his seat beside you.
“As we all know, we trade off on who picks the movie.” Tony stood beside the screen, waving his hand emphatically as he spoke. “You���re all so lucky that it was my turn to pick.” One of his hands rested on his chest as he leant forward in a mock bow.
“What do ya think he picked?”
The heat of your body radiated pleasantly into Bucky’s as you spoke to him. The scent of your body wash wafting to his senses, taking his mind back to the noises he listened to outside of your bathroom door.
“I don’t know. It’s always something stupid with him.”
Bucky couldn’t care less about Tony’s choice of movie. What he was really concerned with was how close you were to him.
And how much he wanted to be closer.
About halfway through the movie, your body stretched with a yawn. Both of your legs kicked off the couch, relishing in the rush of blood to your limbs before settling back into your original position.
“You can lean on me, ya know?” Bucky tilted his head toward you, whispering to you as the movie continued playing.
You bit the inside of your cheek as you leaned your head against his shoulder, murmuring a small thank you. Your eyes slid closed as you soaked in the warmth that Bucky provided. Like a goddamn walking space heater.
It took a few seconds to readjust your position, only for Bucky’s metal hand to rest on the bare skin of your knee after you stopped moving. A shockwave raced up your spine at the contact.
The lighting of the movie changed. A buttery filter settling over the screen, the little starlights in the ceiling of the theater changing accordingly.
You nudged Bucky’s side, making him drop his gaze to you before following your pointer finger to the lights in the ceiling.
Suddenly, the lights changed again.
A deep red overtaking them as a guttural groan played through the speakers.
Your eyes snapped back to the screen, seeing the two main characters in the throws of intimate passion. It didn’t take long for your curiosity to overtake you, making you more than invested.
You felt your head leave Bucky’s shoulder, tilting slightly to the left as you leaned forward. Bucky’s hand never left your leg, you distantly felt it slide down to your inner thigh with your quick movements. He must’ve asked you a question because he squeezed the inside of your thigh making you jump in your seat.
“Dolly?” Another squeeze. “Are you okay?”
Your body flushed, finally fully recognizing that it was Bucky’s hand on your inner thigh.
“Yeah, I’m okay.”
You couldn’t seem to tear your eyes away from the screen, flashing him a small smile without looking at him. Bucky’s eyes narrowed as he examined your body language.
You had the blanket covering your lower half bunched between in your grip.
The scene progressed and it seemed you couldn’t decide to be relaxed or tense. Your jaw dropped slightly as the male character thrust into the female. He glanced at the screen, watching as the shot focused on the man’s hand on the outside of the woman’s thigh. Back to you, your head had tilted to the side again, brows furrowed at the progression.
He flexed his hand against your own thigh before rubbing his thumb against your skin.
“Feeling a bit hot, dolly?”
Your face whipped around to his, lips parted as small puffs of air escaped. Bucky watched for any sign of discomfort from you as his hand slid a bit higher.
“Is this okay?”
A tiny nod that received a small smirk in reply.
“Words, dolly.”
Bucky felt his harsh breath bounce off his bicep as his fingers dragged up to the apex of your thighs. He traced the crease of your thigh several times, familiarizing himself with the fabric of your shorts. His pinky slipped under the hem, accompanied by a quick inhale from you.
“Shh, dolly.”
He felt your heart rate increase, smiling into your skin as he pressed a kiss to your shoulder.
“You don’t want everyone to find out what we’re doing back here, do ya?” Bucky felt your thighs clench at his words, making him quirk a brow at the thought.
“You might be into that, dolly. But, I don’t share what’s mine.” He pinched your thigh making you jump closer toward him, a reaction that he thoroughly enjoyed.
He repeated the pinch, pulling you into his lap as you jumped yet again. Bucky fit his arms around your body, keeping your legs spread just enough for his hands to fit comfortably, his knuckles brushing against each other. The surround sound system that Tony installed in the theater room drowned out the little yelps that escaped your lips, much to Bucky’s dismay.
“Be a good dolly,” his right hand pulled your hips back into his, “and stay still.” His metal hand remained in between your legs, the temperature difference causing little goosebumps to rise over your skin. Bucky leaned forward, pressing a kiss to your shoulder before whispering to you, “Please.”
His hand traced the waistband of your shorts, running his fingers over the indentions that the elastic left on your stomach. Bucky hummed into your neck as your breaths shuddered. After a few minutes of torture as the movie progressed, he gave in. Pushing his hand further into your shorts, the fabric peeling away from your heated skin.
It was breathy.
The very implication of it, of what he was making you feel, made his soar on cloud nine.
And all you said was his fucking name.
“What do you want, dolly?” He stopped the downward descent of his hand, resting just above where he knew you really wanted him. But he wanted more.
“Please touch me.”
Fuck him. The quick rise and fall of your chest and increased heart rate reverberated from your body into his.
His metal hand pinched your thigh again.
“I am touching you.” His fingers danced across your slit, humming lowly to himself at the wetness that began gathering there.
A little groan slipped past your lips, a little too loud for Bucky’s liking in such a public forum. His metal hand covered your lips as he brought his mouth to your ear.
“Don’t be a greedy dolly and be quiet.”
One of his fingers breached your slit, the heel of his hand brushing against your clit in the process. The slight friction makes your back arch away from his chest.
“If any of them turned around, what would they see?” He kept his finger stationary, wetness pooling around his digits as he refused to move. “They’d see you spread out on my fingers. My dirty little dolly. Such a good girl for me.”
He felt your walls clench around him.
“You like me tellin’ you that you’re my good girl?”
He took the opportunity to begin to pump his finger in and out of you. Your walls sucked him back in as he continued to move back and forth.
“Of course you do.”
“Bucky, please.”
He twisted his hand, rubbing the heel of it against your sensitive clit. God, he’d barely touched you and you’re already a writhing mess beneath him.
“Such a dirty girl.” Another pump. “Getting all hot and bothered from a movie,” He removed his fingers, circling your clit, “then begging for my touch?”
Your mouth dropped open as he pressed a kiss to the hinge of your jaw. Bucky quickly replaced his digits, resuming his steady rhythm.
“Be a good girl for me.” He whispered into your ear as your legs began to shake. “Come on, cum for me.”
“Bucky.” Your hand reached his bicep, nails digging in and leaving little crescent shaped marks.
Moon shaped badges that he would brandish with pride.
“That’s it, just let go, Y/N.”
Your body stilled in his arms as he continued pumping his fingers, the wetness pooling there thoroughly coating his digits. He smiled into your skin, covering your mouth with his metal hand to muffle your moans.
“I told you I don’t share, dolly.” His pace slowed as the lights in the theater room brightened. Bucky watched as his teammates began to rise from their seats, grasping blankets at their waists while they stretched their arms above their heads.
“That includes your little noises.” Bucky shifted you from his lap to the cushion beside him, his arm still wrapped protectively around your back. He stood from the couch, leaving his skin in contact with yours for as long as possible.
“We’ll continue this later, little dolly.” Bucky watched your eyes widen as he brought his fingers, the ones covered in your cum, to his lips. He fought his eyes rolling back to take in your shell shocked expression as he moaned from the back of his throat at your taste.
Your fist hovered near the door. You’d been debating on how to broach the subject with Bucky since the team movie night. Just as you went to pound on the door, it swung inward. Your eyes darted up to the mass of a man standing in front of you.
“Hiya, dolly.” You felt your face flush and Bucky’s eyes roamed your figure.”How are you doing today?”
“I’m alright.” You hesitated for a second, wringing your hands at your waistline. “Actually, I wanted to talk to you.”
“Sure, come on in.” He stepped back, revealing the room that you had become acquainted with over the past few months.
You walked in, pausing at the foot of his bed. Bucky’s hand rested on your bicep.
“You sure you’re okay, Y/N?”
You whipped around to face him, eyes wide as they focused on his face that was closer to yours than you originally thought it was.
“I’m fine. Swear, Scout’s honor.” You held up three fingers to which Bucky snorted.
“You weren’t a boy scout, dolly.”
“I could’ve been a boy scout if I wanted to.”
“Oh, I have no doubts about that.” He inched closer to you, bumping the back of your knees into the plush edge of his bed.
You chewed the inside of your cheek as Bucky’s chest pressed against yours. His hand lifted to your face, cold fingers tracing your cheekbones before swiping your hair behind your ear.
“Didn’t you come in here for a reason, dolly?” You started to stammer out an answer when Bucky continued talking, eyes roaming your face. “Don’t get me wrong, I love having you all to myself, but you seemed to be on a mission.”
“Right.” You evacuated his immediate vicinity, facing the window on the opposite side of his room. You fumbled with the drawstring of your sweats, twisting the string between your fingers.
“Are you okay, Y/N?” His hand reached out, resting on your arm to turn your body toward his.
“I wanted to just talk about what happened with us the other night.” Bucky nodded as he took a seat on the edge of his bed. Bucky followed your movements as you paced in front of him.
“Well, it’s just like I’ve never actually done that before or had that done to me so it really kind of made me nervous. But then like it happened and I tried to kind of just forget about it and put it out of my mind because I knew it was probably a one time thing. But it’s been occupying more space in my head than I feel like it should if I’m going to be able to forget it. And now I just want it to happen all over again. And I really liked experiencing that with you and I hope that you liked it too because I mean well you had your hand down my pants and then you, ya know? With the fingers? And then your mouth? And the sucking?”
Bucky sat attentively listening to your rant with his head tilted to the side. You continued to wear down the patterned rug you had claimed ‘looked like him’ in the store. The same rug he wanted to get carpet burn from because he was on his knees for you.
“So I just assumed that you liked it too but now I’m freaking out because what if you were just being nice and you didn’t actually enjoy it and I had just happened to be the closest to you at the time when you were feeling a little frisky?”
Bucky dropped his head to his hands. His weight shifted forward as he leant his forearms against his thighs as you kept talking. He knew you were really talking to him, you had already made a decision before coming in here. He had done this same routine with Sam about you.
“But no that wouldn’t make sense because I feel like we’ve been building up to this the past few weeks, but I thought that you weren’t interested in me because I was too young for you but if it turns out that you are then I would be super excited about that because I’m super into you too and then it would make this whole thing less awkward for me and then we could just bang it out, right?”
He pushed up, halting your movements by placing his hands on your shoulders and turning your body to face his. He titled his head forward, raising a single brow as he spoke.
“Of course I want to bang this out, dolly. But, I need you to understand a few things first.”
Bucky stepped around you to stand beside the door. He watched you from his new position, nudging his head to his bed for you to take a seat.
“I don’t plan on this being just a one time thing.” Bucky took a step forward, crossing the rug he bought in hopes you would spend more time in his room— with him.
“If we do this, you’re mine and I’m yours for as long as we both want it to happen.” A few more steps and he dropped to his knees in front of you. He tipped his head backwards and lifted his hand to reach your knee.
“Now,” he rubbed your thigh up and down, “do you want this? Do you want me?” Your eyes were slowly widening as the words left Bucky’s mouth. Your head began to bob back and forth, pupils blown with desire.
A half laugh escaped through Bucky’s lips, “No, dolly. I need your words, Y/N.”
“Yes, Bucky.” You leaned forward, tracing your fingers against the day old stubble growing on his jaw. A wide smile split his face, and he bit his lower lip as you touched your forehead against his. “I want this. I want you. I want us.”
“Oh thank god.” He shot up, shifting your body up his bed. Bucky’s lips attached to your neck, lightly biting the exposed skin there as your head fell back in what he hoped was ecstasy.
“Do you know how long I’ve wanted you for?” He felt your blunt nails dig into his shoulders, sucking in a harsh breath against your skin at the feeling.
“No need to be greedy, dolly.” Bucky leveled his face with yours, easily melding his lips against your slightly chapped pair.
“I’d give you anything you’d ask for. Without. Question.” He punctuated the last words with small pecks to your cheeks.
“Bucky.” His head snapped up, that breathy little whisper of his name engraving itself into the grooves of his soul. If he died right then he would be content.
“Will you go out on a date with me?” Bucky hands, which had previously been tracing the hem of your t-shirt, found their new home on either side of your head.
“Did you just ask me out, dolly?”
A nervous huff escaped your lips, the subtle scent of your mint toothpaste permeating Bucky’s skin. He hovered over your body, watching every little squirm and shift as he remained silent. He took pity on you, saving you from any further discomfort.
“I would love to go out on a date with you.” He brushed his nose against yours twice.
“Now, can I fuck you into oblivion?”
“Yes please.” You squealed as he shoved his face into your neck, blowing cool air onto the sensitive skin.
“Thank fuck.” His hands dug into your hips, pushing you into the plush mattress below.
Your hands gripped his shoulders, balling the soft fabric of his shirt. Bucky shifted his weight, settling a thick thigh between your legs to press against the heat radiating from your soon to be throbbing center. He groaned as your dull fingernails indented half moons into his exposed skin, badges of honor in his opinion.
“Dolly, you have no idea how long I’ve wanted to be with you.” He pressed open mouthed kisses to your neck, feeling his dick begin to pulse against you.
You felt Bucky’s hands trail down your body to your waistline, tugging at the soft material of your sweatpants. Your breath began to quicken as he pulled your pants down your legs. Just as they dropped to the floor, Bucky’s eyes immediately met yours, foregoing the newly exposed skin.
“Let’s make this even, dolly.” He pulled you up, standing at the foot of his bed and placing your hands on the band of his shorts. You could feel the elastic material of his boxers cutting into his skin just under the plush fabric of his shorts.
His pants joined yours on the ground as he went to remove both of your shirts. You hadn’t been doing anything terribly important earlier in the day so the decision to not wear a bra was one of comfort. Now though, you kind of wished there was yet another step Bucky would have to take to see you.
Bucky’s hands fell to your rib cage, thumbs grazing the sides of your boobs. One slight reposition and he would be cupping your boob in his hand. Your fingers grasped his wrist, eyes darting to his before he could move any further.
“What’s wrong?”
You swallowed the lump stuck at the base of your throat, “I’m just-- nervous? I guess.”
Bucky leant forward, cupping your cheeks. “I’m not going to push you to do anything you’re uncomfortable with. If I do, please stop me. Okay?”
“Okay.” You met his eyes before pushing forward and locking lips with him. Bucky released a grunt of approval before returning in kind.
He broke the kiss before you, replacing his hands on your ribs. “Lay on your stomach for me dolly.”
Your heart began to pound hard enough you thought Bucky could hear it. Turning away from him, you attempted to seductively crawl on top of his bed, but you’re sure you looked like an injured gazelle.
Bucky’s hands came in contact with the backs of your calves, the juxtaposition of his hands causing a shiver to race up your spine. He breathed a laugh onto your skin, stamping butterfly kisses on your back.
Everytime Bucky got close to where you wanted him, he would immediately back off and start the process over again. Tracing his hands up your legs, little kisses on your shoulders, the dip of your spine, blowing cold air on your lower back, then retreat. He seemed to revel in your whines as they only served to prolong his torture.
“Bucky please.” You breathed into the comforter below you. He mumbled into your skin, words you couldn’t make out.
“I’m getting there, dolly.” He flipped you over, making you release a squeal and then stare at him with wide eyes. “Let me enjoy my meal.”
His tongue darted out, tracing the gusset of your underwear. A breathy moan left your lips and Bucky took the time to wrap his arms around your thighs to keep them spread. His nose nudged against your clit, loving the sharp intake of breath that met his ears.
“Oh goodness.” Your thighs tensed at the feeling of Bucky’s lips beginning to suction around your throbbing clit. He continued to mouth at your center, the fabric starting to become sticky with your juices. Shots of pleasure ran through your body as Bucky licked.
“I’ve never been happier than right now.” He pulled back a bit, turning his head to press the words into your thigh. You felt his right arm shift as his fingers began to trace your slit.
“Dolly, you’re so wet for me. Am I making you feel good?” He tilted his head against your lower thigh, watching your face as he continued to feel your wetness.
“Am I? Talk to me, Y/N.” He pressed harder at the top of your slit, feeling the engorged clit underneath the thoroughly soaked fabric.
“Yes-- yes, you are.” You reached down, fingers winding into the dark locks on his head. “Please, Bucky.”
His eyes lulled up to yours, watching your reaction as he pulled the crotch of your underwear to the side. It took everything in you to not let yourself completely disappear into the sheets, but god you were glad you didn’t.
“Fuck me, dolly.” Bucky leaned forward, flattening his tongue up your slit. “You taste so good.” He continued to lick, repositioning with both of his arms around your thighs. Bucky pressed his face further into your center, He groaned as the gusset of your underwear attempted to interrupt his meal.
“Fuckin’ hell.”
You let out a small groan when Bucky removed his mouth only to feel the fabric of your underwear down your legs.
“You still doin’ okay, dolly?” He suctioned around your clit as he saw your mouth open to answer him. You felt him smile into your slit, then abruptly felt his tongue roll against your clit.
“Bucky?” You were nervous to ask, but you wanted to experience this.
“Mmhm?” His head tilted to the side, but he didn’t stop his fondling.
“Will you--” You paused as Bucky crawled up your body, pressing kisses into your skin. “Will you make my legs shake?”
Bucky’s head whipped up, eyes meeting yours with a fire blazing behind his. His jaw tensed and you weren’t entirely sure what he was thinking.
“It would be my goddamn pleasure, Y/N.”
You felt fingers in your hair as you were roused from a peaceful sleep. Your nose scrunched as you buried your face further into the warm pillow beneath you.
“Don’t start something you aren’t ready to finish, dolly.”
Bucky’s gruff voice sounded off from above your head, his fingers still fumbling in your hair. His opposite hand was tracing random shapes onto your exposed shoulder. You pulled back a bit, a smile working its way across your face as you looked up to him.
“You feel okay, dolly?”
You went to answer when the door of Bucky’s room burst inward with Sam tossing a water bottle toward the bed.
“Yo! If we’re going to get this run in this morning we’ve gotta get cracking!”
“Sam!” Bucky yanked the covers over your shoulders, concealing you from Sam’s view.
“Oh my god!” Sam backed out of the doorway only to turn his head and shout, “Nat! Nat! Natasha!”
“Why the hell are you yelling at me?” Sam pointed into Bucky’s room where you were cuddled against Bucky’s bare chest. “What’s up, Y/N?”
“Hi, Nat.” Your voice was soft as Bucky played with the ends of your hair.
“Leg shake?”
“Big time.”
“Okay! Everyone out of my room, I’ve got a girl to ravage again!” Bucky quickly turned and covered your body with his as Natasha and Sam left the room in a fit of giggles.
523 notes · View notes
freyjaallan · 22 hours ago
Just For the Night
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summary: Bucky needed someone to get him through a particularly hard night. Now, he isn’t sure he can handle being alone again.
warnings: angst!! fluff, a bit of violence, hurt and broken Bucky :(
words: 4.8k
a/n: I don't know what this is or why I wrote it idk I was going to add smut but maybe part 2 ;;;) listen I just want to hold bucky and make him better
The first time Bucky had a nightmare after you’d moved to his floor, it wasn’t you who went to him, but the other way around.
You’d heard the yell, the quiet sobbing. You were awake but frozen, not sure if Bucky would want you to comfort him when he was like this. You’d seen him snap at Steve before, when he’d tell Bucky that it was normal not to remember something or that no one expected him to be okay all the time.
I don’t want your fucking pity, Steve. From you, or any of you. Why does everyone keep looking at me? Enjoying the show?
It wasn’t his fault, and if it was you, you’d probably feel the same. With all that fear and anger and sudden freedom, came a lot of shame and guilt. You wouldn’t blame him for wanting to push through his nightmares alone, too.
But not long after the cries woke you up, you heard a knock on your door, slowly opening. He heard your heart rate, knew you were awake.
“Can I sleep here?” he asked quietly, voice rough from sleep and so broken that you felt your own heart break. You opened your mouth to speak, but not before he finished with a devastating whisper of “Please? I really can’t be alone right now.”
His voice broke at the end, and you were immediate scooting over in bed, throwing over the corner of the duvet. The fact that he felt he had to beg you to be there for him, like you would ever deny him anything, made your own eyes water with unshed tears. Thank god for the darkness. 
“Yeah, of course, Buck. C’mere.” 
He was beside you in an instant, shrinking into himself to take up as little space as possible. It occurred to you that he might think you were afraid of him-- that maybe that’s why he felt he needed to ask to stay with you, because he thought you were uncomfortable around him. That won’t do.
You sidled up beside him, closer than you’d ever been, and carefully pulled him into your arms. As big as the guy was, he went easy, soft and pliant against you as he burrowed under the blankets and tucked his face against your neck, taking a shuttering breath in.
“This okay?” you asked quietly, but from the way his tense form was slowly beginning to relax in your arms, you knew it was. He nodded against your neck, but made no motion to do anything but cuddle himself further into you. You threaded your hand into his hair, scratching lightly at his scalp as you squeezed him somehow closer against you. 
Bucky had his legs tangled with yours, and you were about to ask if he wanted to talk about it when you felt the first drop of wetness against your skin, and then suddenly Bucky was crying again, shaking slightly in your hold. The tears were soaking into your shoulder, but you could care less; you were too focused on keeping the man in your arms held together, if only just for the night. He sobbed quietly in your arms for awhile, before eventually his breathing became just choked off little hitches, then finally it evened out. 
He was asleep.
You just held him tighter, tugging the duvet further up until it encased the both of you in a nest of warmth, and rested your cheek on the cold metal of his arm, falling into your own restless sleep. 
The sunlight hit your eyes, the warmth on your face and bright light behind your eyelids making you sigh. It was incredibly hot-- hotter than you were used to. You shifted slightly, thinking the sun was what was making you so warm, but you were stopped by a chest pressed to you back making it impossible to move.
You remember last night, his nightmare waking you up, him coming to your room because he couldn’t be alone and he trusted you enough to do that for him; holding him tight while he cried in your arms until he fell asleep.
You expected him to be gone by now, for some reason-- he was always so embarrassed whenever he showed any amount of panic or weakness, lashing out at people or disappearing for days at a time. You imagined after how vulnerable he was last night that he wouldn’t want to be around you for awhile.
But he was still here, heating the bed you still shared like a fucking furnace, but he had his metal arm draped over your waist, his hand splayed over your hip under your shirt, keeping you cool. 
You turned to face him, just to make sure this wasn’t a dream--just to confirm this really was the Bucky that snapped Sam’s wings in half when he insinuated Bucky needed therapy and still flinched when anyone touches him-- and there he was, looking as devastatingly beautiful and sad all at once. 
He was still completely tangled up in you, eyes rimmed red and tired, but he was watching your face with such scrutiny that you felt more seen than you ever have. You didn’t know what he was looking for.
“Have you been up long?” You didn’t want to ask how are you feeling? Or are you doing okay? because those seemed like stupid questions right now. The man woke up screaming last night, of course he wasn’t okay.
Bucky didn’t answer, instead carefully reaching up with his left hand and cupping your face, his thumb tracing you're cheekbone. His palm moved down, thumb coming to rest on your bottom lip, and your eyes fluttered shut before you could stop them. You let out a shaky breath, not sure what he was doing, but not for a second did you think he was going to hurt you.
“Can I kiss you?”
He whispered it, like it was a secret between lovers in a crowded room, and you suddenly wanted, needed his lips on yours, more than you needed to breathe.
“Yeah, Buck,” you said out loud, and were grateful for Bucky immediately moving in and pressing his lips against yours, effectively silencing you from saying a number of things you would most likely regret. His lips were soft, warm like the rest of him, and there was so much hesitation behind them that it almost made you angry. You moved your hand up and laced your fingers in the hair at his nape, tugging gently. He let out a soft groan, lips barely parting from yours.
“Kiss me, Bucky.” 
That was it. He dove back in with purpose, the metal hand moving down to rest of your neck as he tilted your head just so, deepening the kiss while his tongue teased at the seam of your lips. You sighed, mouth opening for him, finally taking in the taste of Bucky. It was one you instantly knew you’d never stop wanting.
You lay there lazily kissing for what could have been hours, days-- you both didn't feel the need to stop, or go any further. He felt so relaxed against you, languidly licking into your mouth while his hand ran up and down your back. You bit down on his bottom lip, smirking at the low growl it earned you. 
When you finally pulled away, it wasn’t by much, keeping your fingers tangled in his hair as your eyes met his. You worried your lip, not sure if you wanted to ruin the perfect morning or not. “Why...?”
He knew exactly what you were asking, eyes getting that dejected shade of sadness in them whenever Steve asks him if he remembers something and he doesn’t, or after a particularly hard day when he just sits at the table with the rest of the team but doesn’t eat or speak at all.
He hummed, leaning in again to press a tender kiss to your neck. “When I woke up, and no one was there and I couldn’t breathe, all I could think was ‘Get to her. She’ll make it stop.’ I don’t even know why, except you’ve always made it stop. Even just by being in the room.” He pulled away enough to meet your eyes again, giving you a soft smile. “I didn’t know if you’d let me in. I didn’t expect anything. But the second you touched me, it just--it just broke me. And I needed that, I just need to be broken and not pitied or judged for it, just for a night.”
Bucky leaned in for a kiss, murmuring against your lips, “Now I don’t know if I want to be without this.”
You felt tears welling in your eyes, a sudden rush of emotions making your hand shake as it moved to hold Bucky’s face. How you got to be the lucky one that he trusted this with, you didn’t know. You didn’t know how it got here; but there wasn’t any going back now. You didn’t want him to be without this either, because all you wanted was Bucky to be okay, however that looked. 
“You don’t have to be, Buck.”
You kissed and cuddled for awhile more, until you got too hungry and Bucky got too restless to stay. After, you talked and decided not to tell the team yet; Bucky said Steve would get all protective over you and probably argue that Bucky wasn’t ready for intimacy yet (which you thought was bullshit, and Steve’s opinion on your personal life didn’t matter) and you could tell Bucky was still afraid you would change your mind or something, realize you were afraid of him and he was too damaged. You knew that might take a long time to prove wrong, but if all it was going to take was time and proof you weren’t going anywhere, then you were fine with that.
It made day to day life really, really hard, though. Trying not to look at Bucky too much, but also not seem like you were avoiding looking at him; reacting appropriately on missions when Bucky would put himself in danger, wanting to appear as concerned as you would any teammate and not like you were about to lose your mind with worry; breaking off at the end of the night to go to bed at staggered times, in your respective apartments, only for Bucky to sneak into your bed once everyone else was out. 
And apparently, it was all for nothing because it was blatantly obvious.
“Are you and Bucky fucking?”
You choked on your wine, turning to her with wide eyes. “Natasha, what the fuck?”
She stared back at you unblinkingly. “That wasn’t an answer.”
You wiped the wine off your chin with your arm, furrowing your brows. Fuck. “Why would you even ask that?”
Natasha narrowed her eyes, but took the bait anyway. “Every time you walk into a room it’s like his reference of gravity changes, and he’s completely drawn to you without even realizing it. On missions, he always has an eye on you, I saw him take out two guys without even looking because he was too focused on making sure you were safe. He always so broody and sad and, yeah, he has reasons to be, but he kinda seems to forget about them whenever you’re around.”
She pauses, before continuing. “But he’s always been like that with you. Since about a week ago, you’re doing the same thing with him.”
You gaped, quickly closing your mouth as you felt a blush warm your cheeks. “We’re not... we’re not fucking, Nat. I promise.” It was technically the truth.
Taking a sip of her red wine and sighing, Natasha leaned back on the couch and rested her chin on her fist, searching your face carefully. “... Okay. I believe you. But something happened.”
You considered how to handle this-- you and Bucky decided to keep this private for now, but keeping anything from Natasha Romanoff was a futile mission from the start. She was too perceptive. And you wanted someone to talk to, because although it had only been a week, you knew this was going to ruin you.
Bucky would understand. He’s probably already told Steve, and you were okay with Steve knowing, even if he was your Captain.
You bit your lip, then finally nodded, drawing your knees up to your chest and settling against the arm of the couch. “He had a nightmare, about a week ago... you know I moved onto his floor of the Tower. He came to me. The morning after, we-- we kissed--” You ignored Natasha’s squeal, biting back a smile. “We talked and decided we were going to try but we weren’t ready for others to know yet. So, don’t tell anyone else, please.”
Natasha grinned but shrugged. “I promise I won’t, but you two aren’t very subtle. Like I said, I’ve seen it from the first time he was in a room with you.”
You blushed, picking at your nails. “He said when he’s around me, all the bad stuff just stops. That he came to me because he couldn’t breathe, but he knew I’d make it stop.”
You closed your eyes, suddenly overcome with overwhelming feelings for the man you didn’t even know three months ago. You felt your hands shaking, whispering out, “Nat, I think I’m in love with him.”
You heard her shift closer, then felt arms wrapping around your shoulders as the spy pulled you against her side, murmuring in Russian. “That is okay, that is wonderful. Because I know he is in love with you.”
You sniffled, eyes opening to peer into green ones. “Yeah?”
Natasja gave you her signature smirk, nodding. “I’m not the only one who sees it, but you will, too. However...” she paused, looking at you carefully. “I think taking it slow is a good idea. I know you’re not afraid of him and shouldn’t have a reason to be, but he’s still healing. And it’s better to be cautious and do it right than to rush it and trigger something that makes him think he can’t ever be with you.”
You nodded, giving Natasha another quick hug. “Thank you. God, it’s been hard not talking about it. He’s everything and I can’t even let anyone know.”
She laughed before leaning back and grabbing her glass of wine, gulping the rest down in one go. “Although, you and Bucky should be fucking. Guy hasn’t gotten any in over 70 years, I bet he’s amazing--”
“Nat!” you hissed, smacking her with a throw pillow. 
Turns out, Steve did know.
“He guessed it, too,” Bucky sighed, softly trailing his fingers up and down your arm as you leaned against the wall, hiding away in an empty corridor of the Tower. “I was an invisible assassin that people weren’t even sure truly existed for decades and I’m that obvious when it comes to you?”
You grinned, shrugging. “Apparently. I mean, I had no idea until you were literally in my bed. I wish I had known sooner, though.”
Bucky chuckled. “Yeah, me too. Would have saved me a lot of nightmares.”
You tensed slightly at the mention of that; in the week since that first night, Bucky hadn’t had any nightmare, although he warned you that it doesn’t necessarily mean they’re all gone, as much as he’d like them to be. You helped a lot, but you couldn’t keep them all away. You wondered how many he had to suffer through alone, scared, before you moved to his floor of the Tower. Before you arrived here at all. 
He noticed, and kissed your temple. “I’m so gratefully you’re here now. That I get to have this.”
You looked up at him, and almost said it. I love you. Because you did. You loved Bucky, and he deserved to know, didn’t he? If what Natasha said was true, he would just say it back.
But then you thought of her warning, and bit your tongue. You weren’t going to lose him after you just got him, because you couldn’t take it slow. You had the rest of your life to tell him you loved him, if you had any say in it. 
Things were so good. He joked with Sam, had an actual conversation with Tony while he updated a few things around his arm, practiced his Sokovian with Wanda. The team was noticing, and you couldn’t help but smile as you watching him visibly relaxed around everyone during group dinners. He looked over and caught your eyes, giving you a warm smile back. You both averted your eyes before anyone could notice, but the smile remained on your face as you picked away at your food. Eventually mornings where you woke up spooning and Bucky’s erection rubbed at your back as he tried to hold in a groan ended differently than him sneaking off to his apartment hoping you wouldn’t notice, and nights weren’t just spent whispering sweet nothings and cuddling. And, yes, Natasha was right-- Bucky was amazing in bed, like everything else he did. Maybe, maybe you could tell everyone now. Maybe you were both ready. 
And then it ended eerily similar to how it began.
You woke to a scream, the loud cry jolting you from your sleep quickly. The abrupt change from unconsciousness to awareness was jarring, and that threw you off. Or you probably would have realized in time that it wasn’t Bucky who was in your bed, but the Soldier.
His hands were suddenly around your neck, immediate pressure making you gasp in a big breath of air. You could see Bucky’s face in the moonlight, only it wasn’t his face; his eyes were empty, void of any awareness of who he was killing, simply following an order from his nightmare. 
His metal hand pressed down harder, and you realized right then that you were about to die-- in a second he was going to crush your windpipe, cut off oxygen to your brain, and hopefully you would be unconscious before any pain registered. There was nothing you could do, this wasn’t Bucky anymore.
With the last second of breath you had, you took your hands away from where they were clawing at his around your neck, holding Bucky’s face and wheezing out his name before everything went black.
The first thing you saw when you opened your eyes was Steve, standing with his back to you as he spoke with who you assumed was Dr. Banner. You were in the med bay, blearily looking around for the one person you needed. You took a breath, and coughed at the burn.
Steve quickly turned, at the side of your bed in a second, taking your hand in his. “Hey, hey, take it easy. You’re okay. One breath at a time.”
You swallowed, wincing at the soreness in your throat. You opened your mouth to speak, but Steve shook his head. 
“No, no talking. Here, I’ll...” He reached over and rustled around in a table beside the bed, coming back with a pad of paper and a pen. “Use this.”
You took it from him, and scribbled the only thought you had.
Steve read it, and was silent for a moment, before meeting your eyes. “He brought you here last night. Said he thinks he strangled you to death but he needed us to make sure.”
Your eyes filled with tears, and started to fall before you could stop them. You sniffled, writing again.
Winter Soldier. Nightmare, not him.
“Yeah, we figured,” Steve said, looking down at his hands. “But he did... he did almost kill you. Bruce said if you were out for any longer there would have been permanent brain damage. I know it wasn’t him, but...”
His hands. You understood why Steve felt like he needed to protect you-- why Bucky was so apprehensive to tell him about you in the first place. Because he was afraid something like this would happen.
You flipped to a new page. 
Where is he? You hoped they weren’t holding him somewhere; he would never, ever hurt you when he was in his conscious mind. He wasn’t a danger to you, the Soldier was. And this was just... a bad nightmare. Not worth ruining the best thing you ever had.
Steve grimaced. He paused, taking his time before he answered. “He doesn’t want to see you,” he replied quietly, squeezing your hand. “He’s just really... he’s really sorry he hurt you, even if it wasn’t him. He needs some time. And I would feel better if you weren’t around him, either.”
The tears were blurring your sight again, and you easily wiped away a few that rolled down your cheeks. All you wanted was Bucky, and he was the one thing you couldn’t have now. 
“No one knows this happened, and Bruce and I are going to keep this sealed in your medical file,” Steve continued, “I think you should sit out a few missions, just say you have the flu or something. And maybe,” He hesitated, eyes flickered down to your neck. “Maybe wear turtlenecks for the next little while, okay?”
Your lower lip trembled, but you nodded, scribbling out a quick I’m tired before you pushed it into his hands, turning over onto your side and squeezing your eyes shut.
Maybe when you wake up, this will have all been your own nightmare.
Sleeping without Bucky was impossible. When you were released from medical, it was back to your own apartment. But that was of course right across from Bucky’s. You could hear him coming and going throughout the days, but you didn’t dare knock on his door.
You saw the bruise on your neck. You didn’t want him to see it, to blame himself all over again. You just wanted it to heal, so you could go over there and kiss him and tell him you loved him and you wanted to tell everyone else. You were so close to having everything you wanted. Why did it all get taken away?
When you finally left your apartment with a high-necked sweater and significantly lighter bruises, you felt yourself shaking just being in the same room with Bucky as the team had their usual monthly game night. You didn’t play-- everyone still believing you were recovering from a flu-- but you caught Bucky’s eyes on you a few times, and you had to fight back tears for two hours. 
This is what Natasha warned you about. Getting too close, something happening that pushes back Bucky’s progress, and him thinking he can never be happy. 
You went on your first mission coming back a few days later, and avoided Bucky’s areas like the plague. It almost cost you a bullet in the flank, but you’re used to brushes with death now, it seems.
At dinner, Bucky asked you to pass the salt, and you abruptly got up and made some excuse to leave, because you couldn’t even hear his voice without wanting to cry anymore. 
For an entire week, you walked on eggshells to avoid anything that may cause whatever was hurting even more pain. You wanted to respect his wishes and not make it worst, but for how long before it was time to just say it was over? Love wasn’t supposed to hurt like this, was it? 
It wasn’t until you were shoved into a wall after training by Natasha in the change room that you really understood who badly it could hurt. 
“What the hell is going on with you and Bucky?”
You flushed, looking down. “Nothing. Literally nothing, Nat. We don’t... even talk anymore.”
Natasha rolled her eyes, letting her grip on you go. “No shit. What I mean is, why aren’t you talking? Because Bucky is about ready to lose his mind, he misses you so much. If you don’t want him anymore, just tell him before the poor guy jumps off the top of the Tower or something.”
You frowned. “Misses me? Steve told me he didn’t even want to see me. I figured he was still mad at himself for—“ you stopped, not ready for Natasha to know the extend of Bucky’s personal issues. You knew he still looked to her for approval, whether he admitted it or not.
Natasha rolled her eyes. “For almost choking you to death in his sleep, yes, I know. He’s been with me every night, so I know he hasn’t slept at all since.”
You swallowed down a sharp stab of jealousy, not expecting that at all. “Oh. Well, um—“
“He doesn’t want to have another nightmare where he can’t breathe if he knows he won’t have you around, and he doesn’t trust himself to be alone and not hurt himself,” Natasha cut you off quietly, eyes softening. “He sits in the corner and stares out the window for hours. Haven’t seen him sleep yet.”
That made a piercing pain cut through your chest, and you had to physically clutch at your neck, right where the almost completely faded handprints were. “I didn’t… I didn’t know. I thought he didn’t want me around anymore.”
Natasha scoffed, but it was done affectionately. “You both drive me insane. Look, he’s mad at himself, and yes, he hates what that part of him did to you, but you know what’s really killing him? He thinks you’re afraid of him now. He thinks you don’t want him anymore, that he scared you away.”
You didn’t even realize you were crying until the salty tears hit your lips, and you took in a shaky breath. “None of that is true. I didn’t mean— I just wanted to give him space.”
The redhead sighs, grabbing her bag and walking backwards towards the showers. “Well, tell him that. He really needs to hear it right now.”
That night, Bucky was back in his apartment and you woke to a piercing scream, and this time you didn’t wait for him to come to you.
It suddenly made sense, but you felt so stupid— of course he was waiting for you to come to him, afraid you would be scared of what he was capable of after experiencing it first hand. Like that first night, he was so hesitant, but he tried. He needed you, so he tried. And tonight, you’d do the same.
You could hear the quiet sobbing through his door, knocking gently and not bothering to wait for a response before you were walking in and sinking to your knees beside the bed.
“Bucky, Bucky, I’m here,” you murmured, eyes adjusting to the darkness he always kept his room in, carefully peeling back the duvet to make sure he was okay.
He let out a shuddering sob, your name falling from his lips like a prayer before he was pulling you into his arms, adjusting you so your legs were tangled and his face was tucked into your neck, just like the first night.
You held his shaking frame, letting him cry into your skin as you slowly played with his hair. You didn’t notice when his crying turned into quiet sniffling and he was instead kissing your neck, soft and sweet all along the outline of his hands that bruised your skin. You sighed, holding him even tighter.
You didn’t say anything for the rest of the night, only sharing a few gentle kisses before you both fell into a deep sleep. The following morning you found out Natasha had kicked him out of her place for the night, probably her sick way of forcing you to engage with Bucky again. But it did work.
You sat beside Bucky in his kitchen, sipping coffee and scrolling through your phone while he flipped through the paper, a hand on your thigh while his thumb slowly rubbed back and forth.
Tilting your head back and feeling the warm morning sun on your face, you opened your eyes to find Bucky staring at you, a look of awe and fondness there that made your heart clench. You smiled, about to ask him what he was looking at, when he said,
“I’m in love you.”
It felt so right, like it was always supposed to get here, always supposed to be like this. And now it was. Maybe love was supposed to hurt, so you always knew how important it was to protect.
You brought a hand up to his face, scratching through the beard he was letting grow in lightly. “I’m-- I’m in love with you too, Buck. I think I have been for awhile now.”
Bucky’s eyes slowly closed, and he let out a sigh as he felt your lips brush his, giving him a kiss. “I might have been in love with you the second I saw you.”
“Okay, it’s not a competition,” you huffed, shoving at his shoulder and grinning at the sound of his laugh.
He met your eyes again, and for the first time since you’ve known him, there wasn’t that deep layer of sadness. There was a brightness that wasn’t there before, and most importantly, there wasn’t any hesitancy as Bucky leaned in and promised one more time, “Never want to be without this again, baby.”
You smiled, taking his left hand and intertwining your fingers, pressing a kiss to the back of the metal. “You won’t have to be. No matter what.”
Bucky paused, licking his lips. “Can I... can I tell you what my nightmare was about last night? Maybe-- I don’t know, maybe if I talk about it, it’ll help.”
This was the first time he’s ever wanted to talk about the terrors that plague him at night, and again you were hit by so much love at how trusting he was with you. You nodded, keeping your fingers laced with his. “Yeah, Bucky, of course. I’ll listen whenever you need.” 
The next time you and Bucky met up with the rest of the team for a mission, you were holding hands; no one said anything, but Natasha gave Steve a smirk and Tony whistled, clearing his throat and looking away when Bucky sent a glare his way. You squeezed his hand, a burst of warmth filling your chest as he looked at you with the most gorgeous smile you’d ever seen. He leaned in and kissed you, his tactical suit rough against your hands and a gun digging into your hip, yet it was perfect in too many ways for you to name.
And now you got to call him yours, and no nightmare was going to take that away.
249 notes · View notes
foreverindreamlandd · 2 days ago
Awake My Soul • 5
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Pairing: Bucky Barnes x F!Reader
WC: 4.2k
Summary: It’s been 5 years since zombies first began their invasion, and despite everything you’ve been through, you’ve managed to survive up until this point. Now it’s time to face your must dangerous challenge yet….the grumpy, untrusting, fiercely protective Bucky Barnes.
Chapter Note: Forced proximity time!! Y'all might hate or love me for this and honestly I cannot wait to hear what you think LOL. Enjoy ;)
Series Masterlist / Series Playlist
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You got to the lookout station fifteen minutes before your shift started, climbing up the ladder to the treehouse-looking structure they built by the front gate. 
The original brick wall was wide enough for anyone to walk along, but this post served as the central spot for those on watch. Hanging from the top of the A-frame roof that covered the small square surface was a makeshift chandelier that Bruce put together, with five light bulbs. One in the center that provided a soft, amber glow in the space for you to see what you were doing, surrounded by four smaller bulbs that correlated with the different sides of the wall. Green was East, Blue was West, North was Yellow, and South was Red. He had managed to create some sort of sensors along the trees that made them light up if someone walked through the invisible barrier.
“The color you’ll most often see is yellow, and that’s usually when it’s one of us returning to camp,” Sarah told you when she gave you the rundown of the watch post earlier that day. “We haven’t had an issue other than a walker here and there. It’s pretty rare thanks to the protection of the fog and the Bog.”
You grimaced. “You couldn’t have thought of a better name for the Bog that didn’t rhyme with fog?”
Sarah frowned. “I’ve actually never used both words in a sentence back to back like that. It’s pretty terrible.” The two of you laughed.
Clint was there when you made it to the top of the post, playing around with his bow. 
When he looked up, his brows furrowed in confusion. “Need something?”
You shook your head. “I’m here to relieve you.”
This time, his brows shot up. “You’re on third?”
“Yelena made me switch.”
He paused. “And Bucky still has this shift?”
Your nostrils flared, and after a beat you nodded.
Clint only chuckled, shaking his head as he stood up. “What’d you do to piss her off?”
“Nothing!” you protested, crossing your arms. “She says it’s going to help us bond or whatever.”
Instead of a chuckle, Clint snorted. “What a fuckin’ piece of work.” He sighed. “Do you want me to switch with you? You can take second shift and I can be here with Buck-”
“No, no.” you held a hand up waving off the gesture. “I appreciate the offer, but you do enough around here and I need to start earning my keep. Besides, she’s not wrong. Bucky may hate me for the rest of eternity, but if I’m going to stay here I gotta get used to it.”
He shook his head, gaze turning sympathetic. “Just give him-”
“Time,” you finished for him. “Everyone says that.” Annoyance rose within you. “It’s been a month, Clint, and the concept of me breathing the same air as him makes the guy angry. I put the people he cares about in danger, and I gotta own that if I want to be part of Shield.” 
Clint’s eyes flashed behind your shoulder, but you were too riled up to notice. “And yes, part of me wishes he could see that I’m not going to burn this place down and that I would gladly die for anyone here, even his grumpy ass. But that’s not going to happen and we all just need to move on and let him despise me for everything I am.”
Your breathing was heavy, but you had finally picked up on the fact that Clint wasn’t mindlessly staring past you, his focus was on something.
Dread coursed through you as you turned, knowing full well who was standing behind you.
Bucky’s jaw was locked shut, eyes on yours for a moment before going to the ground.
Clint cleared his throat, making his way to the ladder. “Have a good night, you two.” He muttered a good luck as he started climbing down.
You stood there in silence for a few seconds, and since this was your first watch and you had no idea what you were doing, you were forced to remain there and wait for instructions.
“So…” you started, and that seemed to break Bucky from his spell.
He cleared his throat, moving to one of the corners overlooking the outside of camp. “You can sit wherever,” he mumbled almost incoherently, leaning his back against the vertical wooden post that made up a piece of the wall.
You ran your tongue over your teeth, then walked over to the corner across from his. You stared at him for a moment, waiting for further instruction. When none came, you simply followed his lead and kept your focus on the outside. 
Bucky didn’t say anything for the next four hours.
Just kept staring in the same direction, seemingly lost in his own thoughts. And you found yourself continuously staring at him, eyes flickering over to view his side profile glowing underneath the illumination from the light above. 
It was torture.  
For some reason, you found yourself suffocated by the proximity. He was less than five feet away, and you were certain that if you moved your foot over by just a few inches it would connect with his leg. The idea of touching Bucky at all made you want to set your skin on fire. Your head pounded, the air constricted from your lungs, you couldn’t see straight because all you could think about was how close you two were. Think about what would happen if your boots touched, if he shuffled a few feet closer, if he leaned in and-
“Are you okay?” he asked, brows furrowed with annoyed confusion and your eyes widened at the realization that you had most likely been staring at him for way too long and he could no longer ignore it.
You cleared your throat. “‘M fine.” Your gaze went back to the trees as your face burned, and through your peripherals you watched Bucky follow suit and turn toward the outside.
There was a moment that his thumb started tapping against the wood to some unknown beat, and you nearly spoke up to ask what song he had stuck in his head.
But when you turned to him, you quickly thought against it. Not because he had his normal pissed off at the world expression, but the complete opposite. His jaw had relaxed, his eyes had softened. For the first time since those few good moments you shared before shit went to hell at the Bog, Bucky appeared to be at peace.
It would be the worst thing you could ever do in your life to speak up and put him back in his grumpy state.
So with that, you returned your focus on keeping watch, eyelids growing heavy as the night sky slowly transitioned from black to a deep indigo,then to a soft purple glow as the sun began to rise.
The second Sam was up the ladder to relieve you, Bucky shot up without a word and climbed down.
Sam looked from the ladder to you, a single brow raised. “That bad, huh?”
You sighed, slowly moving to stand, your muscles sore from being in the same position for so long. “Honestly? I thought it was going to be much worse.”
He huffed, then rested a hand on your shoulder. “Look, I told Yelena that this would just be on a trial basis. If you want off this shift-”
“No, Sam,” you said, shaking your head. “You all have done so much for me, the least I can do is suck it up and sit in silence with Bucky for a few hours a day.” 
Please don’t take this time from me, you thought out of nowhere.
All he did was nod in response, then moved to settle himself for his shift.
You watched Bucky make his way across the camp.
Instead of going to the bunks to get some sleep, he walked into the middle building.
Was he really going to get a workout in after being up all night? 
It’s not like it was the time that he normally went to the gym. That slot was usually in the early afternoon after he had gotten some rest and eaten.
You, on the other hand, happily and slowly trudged toward your room and passed out as soon as your head hit the pillow, a soft tapping of an unfamiliar beat playing in your mind and lulling you to sleep.
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“So there’s this charge they created for the rifle. It’s this crazy blue color and disintegrates anything in its path.” You grimaced as you remembered the sight of ten walkers being turned to dust. “It was like an icy blue flame. I’ve never seen anything like it.”
You looked between Bruce’s contemplative look and Peter’s wide eyes before looking back at the very amateur drawing you put together for them.
Bruce ran his fingers along the center part of the device, his other hand wrapped around the lower part of his face as he considered the development of such a weapon.
“Holy shit,” Peter finally murmured, “I can’t believe that made a ray gun.”
You and Bruce both stared at Peter for a moment and he blushed, focusing his attention back on the diagram.
“I remember hearing them talk about getting the charge to a certain temperature to generate such a concentrated amount of heat. And that all of those things worked together so that it wouldn’t even make a sound-”
“Because of the frequency created by the force of the heat,” Bruce continued, writing a few equations on the paper. 
You nodded. “I just have no idea how they created that charge mechanism….sorry I can’t be more help, Doc.”
Banner shook his head, taking off his glasses to look at you. “Y/n, this is amazing. I would have never come up with something like this.”
“Yeah, like we’ve played around with a bunch of stuff, but who could have thought that tech like this could exist?” Peter added.
You shrugged. “Who would have thought that people would want ray guns during a zombie apocalypse?” 
Peter laughed and you winked at him.
“We definitely have a lot to work with to try to replicate this device,” Bruce continued. “Would it be okay for us to come back to you with any questions when they come up?”
“Definitely,” you said. “You know where to find me…bonus points if you rescue me from watch.”
He chuckled. “Heard about that. Things going as terribly as expected?”
You rolled your eyes. “I mean, he hasn’t said more than a dozen words to me in a week, which I guess is better than him yelling at me four hours a day.”
Bruce’s lips turned down in deliberation. “Honestly, that seems pretty promising.”
“Also, I totally offered to take his spot if he was too miserable and he said no without even pausing to think about it,” Peter added. 
You felt warmth run through you at the admission, and you couldn’t stop the corner of your lip from turning up.
Bruce pointed a pencil at Peter, brows raised and he smiled at you. “See? What’d I tell ya? Give it time and he’ll come around!”
At that, you grimaced. “Maybe, but I wish time passed faster than a glacial pace when we’re sitting there not doing anything for hours.”
“Why don’t you bring a book with you? Or a journal if you prefer writing.”
You gaped at Bruce. “You can do that?”
“Of course! We have a library at our disposal, and we have the light over the post for a reason. As long as you look up every few minutes to check that everything is clear, there’s no harm in it.”
“Fuck yes,” you groaned, head tilting back to the ceiling for a moment before looking back at Bruce. “You just made everything….so much better. Thanks, Doc.”
He smiled. “Anytime.”
You smiled back before looking at the clock on the wall. “Shit, I gotta get going guys, before Lena decides to punish me with burpees for being tardy.”
Peter scowled. “What are you still doing here? Go! Before it’s too late!”
The two of you laughed as you made it out into the hallway.
“Hey, Y/n!” Bruce called, and you turned to find him jogging over until he was right next to you. He turned around to make sure Peter wasn’t paying attention and when he looked back at you, you suddenly felt nervous. “You know you can talk to me, right? About anything?”
You swallowed back the nerves, forcing a smile and keeping your voice casual. “Of course, Bruce. Everything okay?”
He pressed his lips into a thin line and nodded. “Yeah. Everything’s fine. Just…wanted you to know.”
You nodded back, trying to ignore the panic building at the possible meaning behind his words. “Gotcha. Well, thanks Bruce.”
“Anytime, Y/n.”
He turned away and headed back into the lab, leaving you there to deal with the unspoken tension lingering in the air.
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That night, you started with your normal routine of relieving Clint a few minutes early and settling into your corner.
You stared outside the wall, doing a quick scan for any unusual activity. Once it was deemed safe, you dug into your pack and pulled out the book you spent hours looking for while browsing the library, nearly buzzing with excitement at the idea of four uninterrupted hours of reading.
It had been years since you had been able to do something like this. Before the invasion, you would spend entire weekends holed up in your room by the window escaping into a world found between the pages of the various tomes you found either at your town library or the personal library your parents had amassed over the years. Then, there were occasionally quiet moments while traveling with your parents and the Eternals, but you could only carry two books with you at a time.
Whenever you found an abandoned bookstore or library, you traded one of the books for a new one for you to read over and over and over again until you basically had it memorized.
The second book, though, was one you would never let go of. It was the one you kept with you ever since the invasion, when your family was forced to run from your home.
You couldn’t help but grab the book from your nightstand, your favorite comfort read, one you knew you could never part with.
Not unless you were forced to.
Not unless you were kidnapped and the small number of items you had were taken from you.
When you escaped from Hydra, you had nothing but a single dagger. It took days of scouring different spots for new weapons and supplies. 
And whenever you found an abandoned bookstore or library, you desperately searched the shelves for one title.
It was never there.
And unfortunately, after hours of looking through the Brookfield library, it wasn’t in their collection either.
You hoped you would find it eventually.
Until then, you had plenty of other stories to keep you busy.
Bucky climbed up the ladder quietly, and though you didn’t look up at him upon entry, you could see through your peripherals that he paused and stared at you for a few moments before claiming his usual spot in the corner next to yours. 
The relief of having some sort of distraction from his silent existence and close proximity nearly made you want to cry as you turned each page, following Bruce’s orders and checking to make sure no alarm was off and that you couldn’t hear anything approaching.
As usual, there was nothing to be alarmed of. The only thing you could see was Bucky’s head turning in your direction every minute on the dot, as if he were counting the seconds until it was deemed appropriate for him to look over again. And the only thing you could hear was the chaotic tapping of his thumb, much different from the beats he created in his mind.
He was restless.
And then, suddenly, not even thirty minutes into watch, he spoke.
“Are you reading Twilight?”
You looked up from the page to find him openly staring at you now, his brows knit together at the realization.
“You know Twilight?” you asked, answering his question with a question.
He scowled, looking away as if already done with the conversation.
For you, however, it had just started.
The corners of your mouth twitched up. “Have you….have you read these before?”
Bucky rolled his eyes, but did turn his gaze back to you. Rather than looking pissed, he just looked annoyed. 
You could live with that.
“I didn’t, because I have taste,” he said. “But Becs - my sister - went through a phase and tried to drag me along every step of the way.”
An ache formed in your chest realizing the existence of a sister, who wasn’t here at camp and that could really only mean one thing.
This wasn’t the time for bummers, though. You were determined to get him to say at least ten more words to you tonight.
“So you’re saying you’ve seen the movies.”
His lips pressed into a thin line and you scoffed.
“You’re telling me that the CGI baby and the weird blue filter used in the first movie didn’t immediately compel you to binge read the entire series?”
That’s when it happened.
The greatest moment probably of your entire life.
Bucky Barnes laughed.
It was a chuckle that only lasted a beat, but it wasn’t something hidden behind a groan of a scoff like before. You had caught him so off guard that he couldn’t help but let out a deep, grizzly, baritone sound of amusement.
And just as Sarah said over a month ago, it was contagious, and you breathed out a small laugh yourself in wonder.
Somehow it got even better, because then he made a fucking joke.
“The werewolves definitely almost pulled me in, but then one of them imprinted on a literal baby and I was quickly turned off by that.”
You nodded. “The whole Nessie thing was a bit of a mess, I’ll admit. But that’s what’s so good about it! It’s bad….but also amazing.”
All you got in response was a grunt of acknowledgement, and you felt a newfound boldness to keep going.
“Okay then, if you’re not a Twihard, what’s your favorite book?”
There was a pause.
“Please tell me it’s some cheesy romcom,” you said.
He glared at you again, once again without any true malice. “The Hobbit.”
“Fuck yes, that’s such a good one! And it’s on the shelves. We could do a book club and everything.”
In a flash, you witnessed Bucky’s eyes lighten with excitement and then immediately switch to a dim, lifeless gaze. “No.”
You swallowed, caught off guard by the emptiness in his voice.
It was more conversation than you had ever dreamed of having, and you knew that if you ever wanted to have it happen again you would have to know when to stop pushing him.
For now, hearing his voice, his laugh, seeing something other than disdain in his eyes, it was enough.
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The next evening, Bucky decided it was time to continue the conversation.
“What’s your favorite book?” he asked just as you got to the part where Bella had basically  jumped Edward in the meadow.
You looked up to find him staring outside the wall, but then he slowly turned his head to you when you didn’t respond.
“Is it Twilight?” he asked with a cocked brow.
You hummed, shaking your head. “Top ten for sure, but no.”
Silence. “So…?” Bucky urged.
“Ella Enchanted,” you said finally, closing the book and positioning your body to face him.
He frowned. “Never heard of it.”
“It’s a kids book,” you replied. “And a stellar movie with Anne Hathaway. But it’s been my comfort read since I was, like, ten or something. I even took it with me when we had to leave after this-” you waved your hand around, “-started to happen.”
Bucky nodded in understanding. “Do you still have it?”
You shook your head. “Lost it during the Hydra shitshow.”
“Is it in the library?” he pressed.
Another shake of your head and he nodded again.
“Don’t worry,” you said, “I’m sure I’ll find it by the time you’re done going through the Twilight Saga.”
He scowled, an expression you realized you loved way too much. “There is no way in hell.”
“Come onnnn,” you whined. “For the book club!”
The right corner of his lip twitched. “No way.”
You sighed dramatically, opening the book back up. “You’re no fun, Beefcake.”
He groaned.
You smiled.
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The next day, you went to the library to grab New Moon. 
When Bucky got up to the watchtower, his eyes landed on the copy of Twilight resting in his corner.
Even with your eyes glued to the page of your book, you could feel him glaring at you.
“Just suck it up and read it,” you said, still not looking at him. “You can thank me later.”
With one long, dramatic sigh, Bucky picked up the book and sat down, opening up to the first page.
You had to bite the inside of your cheek to prevent yourself from grinning like an idiot.
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“Look,” Bucky started, waving the book in the air. “I just don’t understand why she’s so in love with this dude!”
He had been going on for at least five minutes now, you just sitting there listening to him ramble.
“Sure, he saves her from those guys in the town or whatever, but then nearly kills her by driving like an idiot-”
“But he has super enhanced bat senses!” you argued, fighting to keep your face serious.
That was when Sam climbed up, brows already furrowed from hearing actual conversation being shared between you two as he made his way up the ladder.
Bucky ignored Sam and glared at you. “Okay, but what about other cars on the road? I saw that scene play out in the movies. They had to weave and bob around vampire boy and totally could have caused an accident!”
He stood up and you followed suit, giving Sam a nod and a little shrug as he continued to stare at you.
Bucky, on the other hand, continued to talk as he made his way down the ladder. Usually, you would wait for him to race down and run away as quickly as possible, but since he apparently wasn’t done with this conversation, you decided to follow right behind.
“Okay, whatever, he drives like an idiot and tells her that he basically has anger issues and basically that he’s dangerous for her. And in the movie, she like made him follow her into the woods by the school, which was already dumb. In this, though? He drives her to an isolated place a mile into woods where it would take weeks for someone to find her body? And she’s still all heart eyes?”
He got to the bottom, and stood there until you stepped onto the ground before walking alongside you. 
“It’s called love, Beefcake! Sometimes you do dumb shit like go into the middle of the woods with a vampire who is over 100 years old and really wants to drink your blood!”
Bucky shook his head, not stopping as you passed the middle building which had been his normal pit stop after watch. You felt something inside you ignite with excitement, trying desperately to keep your cool even though a part of you was certain that you had fallen asleep during watch and all of this was a dream.
“I can’t believe I let Becca read these when we were younger. I basically gave her the go-ahead to seek out dangerous, blood-sucking bad boys.”
You laughed. “Well, at least now you know to be on the lookout for any pale man who asks you to go to an abandoned field so he can confess his undying love for you. But it’s clear that you hate the book, so just know I appreciate you giving it a try and I’ll return New Moon back in the library when I’m done.”
You looked over just as he clenched his jaw before grumbling something incoherently. 
“I’m sorry, what was that?”
You bit your bottom lip and smiled, slowing your steps to a stop as you approached the front door to the bunk house.
“You got it, Beefcake. Anything to keep book club alive and well.”
Bucky smiled back, crystalline blue eyes locked on yours for three glorious seconds.
And then they widened, his lips turned down, and he looked to the ground as he cleared his throat.
“I should go,” he said sternly, turning on his heel and storming over to his usual destination, the gym.
His body tensed more and more with each step he took, and you saw his hand clench so tightly you wondered if his palms were bleeding from his nails digging into his skin.
You closed your eyes and took a deep breath, memorizing the look of his smile from just a few seconds ago.
Baby steps.
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Chapter 6
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bucky-barnes-diaries · a day ago
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Fuckboy!Bucky x Female!Reader || He arrived a few minutes later 📸
moodboard masterlist
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pinkiebieberpie · 2 days ago
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partying with boyfriend!rockstar!bucky
bucky moodboards list
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ohbuckysmetalarm · 2 days ago
Switching Positions
Pairings: Switch!bucky x switch!reader
Summary: You can’t help your need to control every so often…
Warnings: SMUT: [Oral (f receiving; m brief) fingering, Handjob, Masterbation (m and f), Mutual Masterbation, lots of dirty talk, Begging, Edging, P in V sex, Unprotected Sex, Riding, Degration (dumb baby, whore, slut, etc.), Praise kink, size kink, choking kink, spit kink, breeding kink, Switch!bucky, Switch!reader], USE OF PET NAMES [(f: my love, doll, babygirl, baby, princess) m: love, puppy, pretty boy, baby, daddy)], Talk of wanting kids, FLUFF at the end
Word Count: 4,460
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One thing to know about Bucky: he always feels the need to be touching you at all times. This morning you woke up moaning because James thought a great idea would be to wake you up to him lapping at your juices. Once you grew conscious enough to know where the fuck you even were you quickly threw the covers away from your body and found your loving boyfriend sucking your clit while flickering his eyes up to you. He moaned onto you and then came off you for a split second just to say, “Good morning, my love.” And went right back to his task.
“Bucky!” You tried to sound frustrated, but at the exact moment you opened your mouth Bucky plunged two fingers into your dripping hole, making you whimper out his name. You look down into his beautiful blue eyes and throw your head back in ecstasy.
He swirls his tongue around your clit as he slowly started thrusting his fingers in and out of you. With the way he was working you, you just knew you weren’t gonna last long! Especially when he suddenly adds a third finger and curls them to hit your g-spot with every movement of his fingers.
“Fuck, JAMES!! It’s six in the morning!” He was gonna be the death of you.
He simply moans and quickens his fingers to a brutal pace.
Your legs begin to shake and you can feel your orgasm oh, so close.
“Oh, Bucky! I’m gonna cum!” You screamed out. “Bucky, Bucky, BUCKY!”
He lets off your clit and watches you. “Look at me, doll.”
His dominant voice did things to you and that’s what did it for you. The coil snapped and you came with a shout of his name.
“Oh, y/n. You’re so pretty when you cum all over my fingers. Just like that, make a mess for me… Good girl.” The punishing pace of his fingers doesn’t let up, that and his words send you tumbling over the edge for a second time.
“Again? God, you’re so good to me.” He groans out and slows his fingers down to ride you through your high. He slowly takes his fingers out and makes a show of sucking them clean. You moan out loud as you watch him and already feel your core burning for desire again. And he knows exactly what he’s doing to you.
You sit up and kiss him, still tasting yourself on his lips. You drop your hand to the bulge in his pants and smirk when he whimpers slightly. You pull away and look into his eyes. “Good morning, love.” You say in a sweet, innocent voice as you pull your hand away from the super soldier and get up to head to the shower.
Bucky groans in frustration. “Hey, get back here.” When you don’t listen he storms over to the bathroom, but you stop him right before he can get in.
“Ah, ah, Buck. I need to get ready for the day. And so do you.”
“I wanna take a shower, too!” He whines, which only makes you smirk at him.
“You’re not the one with cum dripping down your thighs. And naughty boys don’t get what they want, so you can wait right out here.” You gave him an innocent smile and quickly closed the door.
Of course you want Bucky with you. You just don’t think you could go another round. You need some time to recover from the mind-blowing orgasms he just gave you!
When you come out of the bathroom Bucky was nowhere to be found. So, you quickly got dressed and ran downstairs to find him. Once you got to the main floor, the smell of bacon hits you but you gotta find Bucky. You walk into the kitchen to ask if anyone’s seen him and you’re surprised to find him cooking eggs and bacon.
The last time Bucky tried to cook was on Christmas two years ago. He wanted to cook Christmas tree shaped blueberry pancakes for everyone, but he had left the pancakes on for a bit longer than necessary and once he went to flip them they were all burned. They still tasted okay, just crispy. From that day on, he made up his mind to never cook again.
“Hey, love.” You say as you walk over to him. He simply gives you a death stare. “What’s wrong?”
Bucky scoffs, “you know what’s wrong.”
Then it hit you. “Oh, you’re upset because I wouldn’t let you take a shower?”
“I needed you, babygirl.”
You give him a hug from behind. “I’m sorry, Buck. You have me now” you say, trying to cheer him up.
He places the eggs and bacon on two plates and then turns around to face you, planting a soft kiss to your lips. “I know, I just wanna make your day extra-special.”
“You already have. You woke me up with the best surprise and then I came downstairs and you cooked me breakfast even though I left you all hot and bothered.”
He kisses the tip of your nose and smiles down at you. “I guess those are all true.” He picks up the plates and places them on the table. “Come have breakfast with me, doll.”
There’s something in his voice that makes you hesitant. But you shake it off and sit next to him. After about eight minutes of silence you can’t take it anymore. “What’s wrong, Buck?”
He keeps his head down, eyes trained on his plate. “Nothing.”
“Something is definitely up, what is it?” He sighs but says nothing. “If you don’t tell me, I know how to make you tell me…”
At that his head snaps up, eyes locking with yours. “And how would you do that, doll?”
You trail your hands from his knee to his upper thigh and lean in to whisper in his ear. “I could always fuck the answer out of you.”
Once the words leave your lips he throws his head back and groans. “Oh, y/n. You and that filthy mouth are gonna kill me.”
Your hand travels higher up to the slight bulge in his pants and you lightly palm him. “We wouldn’t want that, now would we, Buck?”
“Sh-shit, y/n”
“I wanna feel you in my mouth, Bucky. I wanna make you cum so hard. Want you to fuck my face and-“ You heard the ‘ding’ of the elevator and immediately pull your hand away and turn back to your plate.
Bucky whimpers at the loss of contact and you just know he’s beyond frustrated.
A few seconds later Sam, Steve, and Nat walk in, sweaty from their early-morning training.
Nat’s the first one to notice you and Bucky sitting at the table. “You two are up early!”
You look to Bucky then back to the group. “Yeah, Bucky just wanted to make some breakfast for me…” You prayed to God that nobody noticed the slight crack in your voice and the silence Bucky and was sitting in.
But, of course Sam just had to ask questions. “You alright there, Buck? You look a little flushed.”
James simply nods and continues staring at his plate. He clears his throat.
“Umm… you sure?” Steve asks, concerned.
He clears his throat again, “Yeah, just a bit hot.”
“Oh, okay…”
“Anyway, good morning, y/n!” Nat says as she runs to give you a hug.
“Good morning, Nat!” You stand up and give her a tight hug.
“Do you have any plans for the day?” Nat asks.
“Umm, I haven’t made any. So, I guess not.”
They all give you a smirk then look away quickly. Peculiar. You let it slide for now, remembering the state your boyfriend is in behind you. “Anyway, I better go get ready for the day. I’ll see you guys later! C’mon, Buck. I need some help figuring out what I should do today.”
He remains silent and stands up, following you to the elevator.
“Oh, y/n!” Nat calls out. “We’re going shopping in a bit, so be ready!”
“Yes, ma’am!”
Once the elevator doors close Bucky let’s our a sigh of relief. “I thought we were never getting out of there” he whines.
“I’m sorry, Bucky.”
“You’re gonna pay for this, doll.” There goes the domination in his voice again.
“I know, I know. I will make it up to you, I promise!” Once the doors open you make your way to your room, Bucky following your every step. And the minute you walk into your room, he smashes his lips on yours. You give in for a moment before slowly pulling away. “Bucky-“ you breathe out when his lips travel to your neck. “I-I have to go out with Natasha.”
“We’ll be quick.”
“No, Bucky.” You pull away from him completely and he looks at you with hurt in his eyes.
“I’ll take care of you when I get home, I promise.”
He lets out a frustrated sigh, “fine!”
“Good boy!” You give him an innocent smile once you see the look he gives you; and you turn to go get your purse before you jump him and let him make love to you for the rest of the day. “I’ll be back in a few hours, babe. Don’t touch yourself until I get back, I want you needy for me, for my touch.”
“Okay, princess.” You can just hear the smirk in his voice.
“I mean it James!”
“I know!”
You give him a quick kiss on your way out. “Be a good boy.”
“Yes, ma’am” he gives you a little salute, making you giggle.
“I’ll see you in a few hours.”
As your going downstairs your mind wanders to the super soldier. You know he’s gonna touch himself while you’re gone, and you know all the ways you’re gonna teach him to be your good boy. That’s the thing about Bucky; he can be so dominant and rough and the next moment he’s a babbling mess for you. Just thinking about it has you getting wet.
“Hey, love. Ready to go?”
Eight stores, four and a half hours later and you’re beyond tired. You got two sundresses, a new bikini, perfume, and a short, skin-tight black dress Nat insisted you buy because apparently “Barnes won’t be able to keep his hands off you!” Little did Natasha know, he is already unable to keep his hands to himself!
When you got home you rushed upstairs to your room and what you found made you stop dead in your tracks.
There your super soldier of a boyfriend was; laying on your bed with his metal arm wrapped around his thick cock. Head thrown back and moaning. You walked up to your desk and sit in your chair. “Looks like someone’s been having some fun…”
At the sound of your voice Bucky freezes and snaps his eyes open. “Y-Y/n, you-you’re back!”
“And you’re doing the one thing I told you not to do.”
“I’m s-sorry.”
“You can’t even follow the simplest of orders.”
“I-I can f-follow orders.”
The way he’s a stuttering mess has you dripping wet. But you have to keep your composure, tease him a bit more. “If you can follow orders, then you’ll listen when I tell you to do something.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“Ok, I want you to continue what you were doing. But you don’t cum until I tell you to cum! You understand?”
“Fuck, yes!”
“Go on, puppy.” You watch for his reaction to the pet name and you smile when you see him visibly melt a little. “Fuck yourself while I watch.”
He looks up at you confused. “Y-You aren’t gonna touch me?”
“No, naughty boys don’t get touched.”
“Y/n, I’m sorry!” He whines out and you want nothing more to jump on the bed and ride him until you can’t anymore.
“I know you are. Now, I wanna see you make yourself cum and then, maybe, you can have me.”
He starts gliding his hand along his shaft at that. Bucky closes his eyes when his thumb brushes over his slit and whimpers.
“Eyes on me, pretty boy.” You snap at him.
He looks into your eyes and his motions quicken. The way his hand is running up and down the length of his glistening cock has you clenching your thighs. That’s when an absolutely filthy thought pops into your head. You quickly remove you clothes until your just in your panties. Bucky eyes your peaked nipples and moans as he quickens his pace once again, his hips slightly thrusting into his hand.
He watches as your hand travels to your breasts and your fingers start tweaking your hard nipples. You moan out loud at the feeling, which has Bucky groaning. You watch his dick twitch slightly and you know he’s close to cumming undone.
“You gonna cum, baby? Gonna make a mess all over my sheets?”
Bucky whimpers at your words, ready to burst any minute.
“I need to hear your words, puppy.”
“Y-yes I’m gonna cum, y/n. Please, can I cum?”
You just sit there watching the way his hand still doesn’t let up the pace as his legs begin to shake slightly. Fuck, that’s hot!
“Please! I need to cum so bad; I’ve needed it all day. Please!”
Bucky let’s out a pathetic whine as he stops his ministrations, breathing heavily. “Fuck, please! Y/n, please. I need it so bad.”
“I know you do. But bad boys don’t get to cum so easily.”
He looks at you with pleading eyes, and your heart melts, wanting to give him everything he so desperately wants.
“You’re gonna watch me like a good boy, and you don’t touch yourself until I tell you to, okay?”
At that, you stand up and climb over Bucky to get to the other side of the bed; ghosting your fingers across his chest, making him whimper slightly. You sit against the wall and slowly open your legs for the super soldier, looking into his eyes as you do so. You slowly trail you fingers down your stomach, stopping at the waistband of your panties and pass the place you need attention the most. As you trail your fingers down to your knees you can clearly see the hunger in Bucky’s eyes. He needs to see your pussy probably as much as you need him to fill you up. Once you get to your knees, you slowly make your way back to your aching core. When your fingers get to your panties you rub two of your fingers over your clothes folds until you reach your clothed clit. You add a little bit of pressure to your clit and that makes you moan out from sensitivity. You’ve been edging yourself for a good twenty minutes now!
When you finally take off your panties you and Bucky both groan in relief.
When you run your fingers through your folds that’s what makes Bucky absolutely desperate. He brings his hand up to touch you, but you give him a glare that makes him whine. “If you’re a good boy you can touch me all you want. You said you wanted to give me anything I wanted; so just sit and watch.”
“But-” He starts.
You just shake your head and he immediately shuts up. At that, you continue your teasing; bringing two fingers to circle your clit. You moan out as the pleasure runs up your spine, everything in you wanting so desperately for it to be Bucky’s fingers teasing you. “Oh, Bucky!
At the sound of his name, he whimpers lowly and grips the sheets tightly underneath him. The only way to stop from touching you.
You trail your fingers down to your entrance. “James, baby, touch yourself for me.” The moment he grips himself you insert your pointer and middle fingers into your dripping hole. You both moan out loud and Bucky closes his eyes from the pleasure. “Look at me, baby.”
He snaps his eyes open, unaware that he even closed them. “Move, Bucky.”
He slowly moves his hand up and down his shaft, pace the same as your fingers thrusting in and out of your pussy. Watching his desperate eyes has you throwing your head back in pleasure. You can feel your pussy throbbing with the need to cum. You curl your fingers and bring your other hand to play with your breasts. With the curl of your fingers, you’re able to hit your g-spot with each stroke of your fingers. Bucky runs his thumb over his slit and his hips stutter. God, the way he loses control for you. You can feel the coil tighten and you know you won’t last much longer.
“F-Fuck, BUCKY!”
“D-doll. Please, can I cum? Please, please.” Bucky begs, and that’s what does it for you.
“Y-YES! Cum for me, Bucky. Cum.”
With that last word you cum together. The way Bucky’s chest is heaving as he cums is enough to get you through your high. Once you’ve finally come down you make your way to the bathroom to get a warm washcloth to get Bucky cleaned off. As you walk back out you notice Bucky’s still trying to catch his breath. You crawl between his legs and gently wipe his lower stomach, then you make your way to his half-limp dick and toss the towel away. He looks down at you, slightly confused. You slowly lick from the base to the tip of his cock and he whines out in sensitivity. You look up at him with innocent eyes and take him into your mouth, immediately feeling him harder.
“Y-Y/N!” He yells out.
You let off him with a pop, “Yes, love?”
“I-I please, I need more. Please.”
“So greedy” you tsk. “I just made you cum three minutes ago and you want more?”
“Well, gotta keep my good boy satisfied.” You say as you straddle the super soldier, wanting nothing more than to feel his painfully hard cock deep inside of you. You grab hold of him and guide him through your folds, moaning when the tip hits your clit.
“C’mon, baby. I need you, please.” He’s a whining mess again.
You smile down at him and slowly sink down until he’s bottomed out. You both let out a loud moan, needing this from the moment you woke up this morning. The moment you raise your hips and slam them back down is when you know you won’t be in control for much longer; already going cock-drunk.
“Oh, God, y/n! You feel so good wrapped around me! So, so good!” Hell, even Bucky is turning into a babbling mess, which gives you a little boost of confidence.
“Sh-shit! You like that Bucky? You like my pussy clenching around your fat cock?”
That has Bucky throwing his head back and whining loudly. “You-you’re pussy is so tight. I could just stay under you for the rest of my life.”
You clench harder around him. “T-touch me, James.”
He doesn’t need to be told twice, he brings his hands to your breasts and starts tweaking your nipples. You whine out and that’s when you feel the control start to slip away. Bucky sits up and replaces his left hand with his mouth.
“Oh, God, James! YES!” He brings his metal hand down and rests it on your waist. You still the movement of your hips, “James, I need you to touch me.”
“I am touching you, doll.” You can hear the smirk in his voice.
“N-no, down there.”
“Where, princess?”
Oh, that pet name. You know this is the end of all the control you had only minutes ago. “My pussy!”
He adds a slight pressure to your clit with his metal thumb; the cold making you jolt forward slightly. Once he starts circling your clit you continue bouncing on his dick. When you look down into his eyes he’s looking up at you with a deep hunger. You speed up your actions and become a babbling mess. “Oh, James! You feel so good, s’deep inside of me. I love the way you fill me up so perfectly.” He comes off you nipple with a pop and you feel him shift so he can fuck up into you, using your waist as leverage. You fall forward onto him. You start kissing his neck, sucking on the skin to leave a mark. With the new position he’s in he’s able to hit your g-spot with each push of his cock. You can practically feel him in your guts at this point.
“Shit! You’re cock is so good, baby! I-I-“ To be honest, you don’t even know what filth is spilling from your mouth. All you know is his cock feels so good. Out of nowhere you feel your orgasm approach quickly, and you start clenching him once again.
“Oh, doll. Are you gonna cum already?” He mocks you, giving a particularly harsh thrust.
You can’t speak anymore. You just nod.
“Are you too dumb to speak? You goin’ drunk on my cock?” You just moan as a response. He flips you over so he’s on top of you and pulls out till it’s just the head inside of you. “You can think you’re in control all you want. But we both know the moment I get my cock inside you, you’re just a dumb baby.”
You try to think of something, anything, to say, but there’s nothing.
“Buc- AH!” He suddenly slams into you.
“Oh, princess… that’s not my name.”
Oh, fuck. You’re absolutely fucked. He pulls out and slams back into you. “C’mon be a good girl. I know you can do it.” He taunts you, pulling out once again and slams right back in after a few seconds.
“DADDY!” You scream.
“Mmm, that’s more like it.” Bucky starts a punishing pace and you throw your head back from the pleasure building up. “Look at me, y/n.” His voice is bordering on dangerous and you try to look back up into his beautiful eyes, you’re just too far gone. Bucky brings his metal hand up to your throat and squeezes slightly. You instantly snap your eyes up to his and clench.
“Oh, you’re such a dirty girl. Taking whatever
Daddy will give you. Fuck! Clenching me so tight.” He stares at your lips and his hips slow ever so slightly. “Open your mouth, babygirl.” You look at him confused before you tentatively open your mouth. Then Bucky does the unthinkable: he spits in your mouth. The thought of it is absolutely filthy, something you would never want. Or, so you thought.
“Swallow.” And just like he said, you do. Once you get it down you find yourself opening your mouth for him again.
“Oh, God. Your so filthy, baby. You like that? Like when Daddy spits in your mouth?”
You nod and plead with your eyes for him to do it again. And when he does you waste no time in swallowing all he gives you.
“You’re such a good little whore, aren’t you?” You only whimper. His hold on your throat tightens, “I said, you’re a whore, aren’t you.”
“Fuck, yes! I’m your little whore Daddy!” That’s when he loses all control and starts fucking you without abandon. “Oh, Daddy! You’re so big. Oh, YES!”
“Fuck, princess! I love the way you take me. You’re just so good to me.” The praise makes you a bit dizzy as you feel the coil tighten inside you. Bucky rubs tight circles on your clit and you let out an almost pornographic moan. “I can feel you, you’re close aren’t ‘ya?”
“Yes, Daddy.” You look up at him with pleading eyes, on the verge of tears.
“Gonna cum all over my cock, make a mess all over?”
You whimper out a ‘yes’.
“Gonna milk me dry? Let me fill you up like a little cumslut?”
“Oh, yes! Fuck!”
Bucky almost doubled over when he feels you tighten around him at the thought of him filling you up and he can’t help the feeling that bubbles inside him. “Sh-it! You’re such a dirty slut. Want Daddy to fill you up? Fuck a baby into you?”
“Yes, Daddy. I wanna carry your baby, make you a daddy. Fill me up, please! I need it.”
Bucky’s hips stutter at your words, ready to spill into you right now. “You can’t say shit like that, gonna blow my load and make it a reality.” He starts to pull out but you wrap your legs around his waist and bring him impossibly deeper inside you.
“Y-y/n I-I need to pull out.”
You stare deeply into his eyes. “You’re not pulling out, James. You are cumming inside of me.” You’re a babbling mess at this point; continuously telling Bucky that you want need him to fill you up with his seed. “Bucky, baby, look at me.” He looks into your eyes, desperate. You go soft for him, “I want you to fill me up, Bucky. I want to have your kids. I want it all with you. I love you so much, my love. Please, please! Fill me up!”
At that, Bucky starts panting and his thrusting becomes erratic and you can feel your impending orgasm about to wash over you. Just need a little more…
Bucky circles your clit with his thumb and whispers in your ear, “Come with me, y/n.”
And with those last words you let the pleasure consume you as you feel Bucky still deep inside you and let go, bursts of hot cum filling you up; heightening the euphoric state you’re in. You and Bucky stay like that for a while, just staring into each other’s eyes until he pulls out and lays next to you, completely exhausted.
He cuddles you into his chest and sighs contentedly.
“I never knew you wanted kids, Buck.”
You feel him stiffen and you’re worried he doesn’t, it was just some kink, until he finally inhales and speaks. “Have for a while, love… Just never thought you’d want any. Unless you-“
You cut him off by turning around in his arms. “I meant what I said… I want everything with you. I love you, James Buchanan Barnes.” He smiles at his full name and you give him a peck on the lips.
“And I love you, Y/n m/n Barnes.”
“Did you just-?”
Bucky attacks you with kisses all over your face. “Yes, doll. You said you wanted everything, so you get my last name too.”
He’s going to be the death of you. “God, I love you more than you know, Buck.”
And he goes back to peppering you with kisses. And you fall asleep in each other’s arms.
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holylulusworld · a day ago
Heavenly Creature
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Title: Heavenly Creature
Written for the wonderful @cockslutpadalecki​‘ and her Lisas 13K Celebration. Congrats again.
My prompt was: "A stranger comes to your aid after being hit on in a bar."
Square filled for @buckybarnesbingo: B4: Metal arm
Square filled for @buckybingo (expired): Mistaken Identity
Square filled for @mcukinkbingo: N5: Using a truth serum
Rating: Mature
Summary: A stranger saves you from an unfriendly encounter. Is he a knight in shiny armor?
Pairing: Bucky Barnes x fem!Reader
Warnings: heavy angst, language, unwanted touching (not Bucky), creepy guy, almost violence, plot-twist, hand around throat, non-sexual choking, kidnapping, threats, hostage situation, grey!Bucky, a hint of torture (cold water), restraints, non-consensual injection/drug use
Word count: 1399 *yay, I made it*
A/N: Due to the rules of the challenge, I had to cut the story short. This means, there will be a second part.
A/N2: Part 1/3
BBB BuckyBarnesBingo 2022 masterlist 
MCU KINK BINGO masterlist
2021 BUCKY BINGO masterlist
Divider by the talented @firefly-graphics​
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“Could I have the check?” you smile at the waitress at the crowded bar. Your friends dragged you out of your apartment, only to leave you hanging the moment some guys chatted them up. Now you are stranded at the bar you didn’t want to go to in the first place and must pay for their drinks too. 
“What’s a pretty girl like you doing at a place like this?” a guy stands a little too close for comfort while you try to cover your drink with the palm of your hand. “Do you want another drink?”
“I was about to go back to my friends' table,” he doesn’t need to know you are all alone at the bar, and that you want to leave. You point at a random table and even wave at the women at the table. They wave at one of their friends at the other end of the bar, covering your weak attempt to get rid of the guy who moves his hand to your lower back.
“They can wait,” he leans a little closer and grins as you push against his chest. You knock over your drink, cursing as the sticky liquid drops onto your brand-new shoes. “You can come to my table, and we can get to know each other better.”
“I got a boyfriend,” it’s another lie, though. All you want is to go back home and have a good night’s sleep. You just don’t want the creepy guy to follow you outside of the bar and attack you where no one will come to your aid. “He wouldn’t want me to join you at your table.”
“How about we go somewhere else and have some fun?”
“No,” you push against his shoulders, and he finally takes his hands off of you. It’s time to get the hell out of the bar. “Just leave me alone. I’m taken.”
“Can’t see a boyfriend holding your hand,” he just doesn’t seem to get it. “Don’t be like that.”
“Get away from my girlfriend,” your pulse quickens when someone wraps his arm around your shoulders. “You okay?” the man squeezes your right arm to silently tell you to play along. “Sorry for taking so long, baby doll.”
“It’s fine, babe. I already told him to get lost.”
“I guess he needs me to tell him to get lost,” the man releases you. He pecks your cheek, making you shiver before he turns around to push the creep away from you. “You, stay away from my girl. If you touch her one more time, you’ll crawl back home.”
“Whoa, buddy!” you watch your savior take a step toward the creep chatting you up. Something about the way he walks and carries himself feels familiar to you. You comb through your brain and try to remember if you saw this man before. “Sorry, I didn’t know she’s your girl.”
The man wraps his metal hand around the other man’s throat to push him against the wall, holding him there. “Now you know,” your savior growls lowly. “Never touch her again. Got it?”
Out of instinct, you place your hand on your savior’s arm to calm him. 
“Please, everyone is looking,” he turns his head to glance at you and your hand on his metal arm. “They will call the cops. I don’t want you to get arrested for saving me.”
“Saving you. Right,” he releases the man’s throat to cup your chin with his metal fingers. “I saved you. Let me bring you out of here.” 
“I—” you don’t know if it’s a good idea to leave the bar with a stranger, but anything is better than staying around the creep. “Some guys just don’t get the message.”
“Let’s go,” he gives you a curt nod. For a heartbeat you just stare up at the stranger saving you, to admire his handsome features. His blue eyes are soft, and still, the way he looks down at you makes you feel small and vulnerable.
It feels odd to walk out of the bar next to the blue-eyed stranger. He saved you, that’s what you repeatedly tell yourself in your mind as you leave the bar behind. When you come across the dark parking lot, your pulse quickens and the fine hairs on the back of your neck stand up. 
“I should go to my car,” the stranger doesn’t know that you didn’t drive to the bar yourself. “Well, thank you again. It was kind of you to—” the scream wanting to escape your throat gets stopped by his metal fist closing around your throat. 
“W-hy?” you croak, fighting his hold on your throat. You tug at his wrist and wiggle in his grip but it’s no use. He’s so much stronger than you.
Your vision becomes blurry, and tears roll down your cheeks as your savior presses a soft kiss to your temple. “Don’t worry doll. You will get to know soon enough.” He licks over your cheek. “All of them knew in the end…”
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“Where?” you slowly blink your eyes open. Your eyelids feel heavy, and your throat is sore. “What?” confused you try to get up, only to fall back to the cold ground, crying out in pain as a chain around your left ankle holds you to the floor. 
You look around the cold room, wondering what happened after you left the bar. Your brain is still a little foggy and you need a moment to fully wake. 
Flashbacks of the bar hit you. The stranger saving you, his metal hand around your throat, and then…darkness. 
“Rise and shine, sunshine,” the stranger from the bar purrs, and you jump up, forgetting you are still chained to the ground. “Aw, slow down, doll. You will get yourself worked up. I want you in one piece for what comes next.”
“No, please,” you try to crawl away as the man steps toward you, a syringe in his flesh hand. “Please. Why are you doing this? I thought you are a good man.”
“I was,” he crouches down to cup your chin with his metal hand. He forces you to look him in the eyes as he rams the needle in your neck. “There you go, doll.” His voice turns soft, and you choke out a sob.
He looks like an angel, but his cold eyes and the way his metal hand moves back to your throat tell you he’s far from being a good man, or an angel.
“Shush, now doll,” he leans close enough to press another kiss to your temple. “You will tell me anything I need to know.”
“I gave you a nice drug Stark invented. Truth serum Mark 8. It will help you relax and tell me everything I need to know to bring the rest of Hydra down with my new friends. You are the last puzzle piece,” he whispers in your ear, waiting for you to fall against his chest.
“So tired,” humming the stranger pats your head. He waits for your breathing to slow. “I wanna sleep now, please. Let me go home.”
“You will never go home again, doll. Everyone working for Hydra will die. This includes you…”
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You wake tied to a chair as someone pours ice-cold water over your body. “Please,” you cry, choking on the cold water. 
“What’s your name?” you blink at him for a moment. Your lips start to move on their own as you stare into his blue eyes.
“Y/N Y/L/N.”
“How old are you?”
“I’m Y/A old.”
“What do you think about me?” he crouches down next to the chair to place his hand on your thigh. “Answer me.”
“You’re handsome. I like your eyes, your lips, your hair,” you monotonously reply. “I would like to have sex with you.”
“What was your position within Hydra?” squeezing your thigh he looks up at you. He frowns as you seem to think hard about his question. “Answer me.”
“I’m a librarian,” he huffs at your answer. “I worked all my life at the library in Brooklyn. I never worked for Hydra.”
“Stark, you told me this will work!”
“It does,” you hear another voice-over loudspeaker. “What’s your favorite sex position?”
“Why doesn’t she answer my question about Hydra then, Stark?”
“Buck, I think we got the wrong girl,” a third voice says as you drift into darkness again…
>> Part 2
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Tags in reblog.
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sofi1sstuff · a day ago
❄️Bucky Barnes recommendations❄️
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❄️The Key to your heart (by @imagines-by-a-typical-fangirl​): Joining the Avengers wasn't on your plans. Not until Steve asked you to help his best friend. Bucky was Bucky, but the Winter Soldier still came from time ti time, bringing with him chaos and destruction. And you was supposed to keep that side of him away... But what happens when both Bucky and the Winter Soldier start to enjoy your company more than anyone else? Should you turn your back on the Soldier, ignore his own fears and traumas? That's exactly what everyone wants. But you were never known for following orders...
Part 1 | 
Completed (series/miniseries)
❄️None like you (by @bonky-n-steeb​): Bucky Barnes has it all — money, success, looks, fame, women. But when he falls in love with the only woman who doesn’t love him, he starts wondering if he really has it all.
Series masterlist
❄️Only friends (by @metalbuckaroo​): At 3am, every Sunday, Bucky locks his bedroom door to watch his favorite camgirl. What’s to happen when he finds out he’s much closer to her than leaving generous tips on her videos?
Series masterlist
❄️Silver (by @youlightmeupfinn​): When your best friends Peter, MJ, and Ned drag you along to a concert, you never expected to fall head over heels with the band, more so the drummer. Wild and erotic, Bucky Barnes is a rich rock star who gets everything handed to him. Between the money, fame, and platinum records, he has a nasty reputation. But when an innocent girl like you comes along, he can’t stay away.
Series masterlist
❄️Heavy metal lover (by @mypoisonedvine​): Working as a dominatrix is never exactly easy, but a new client brings challenges you never expected.
Series masterlist
❄️To Have & To Hold (by @slyyywriting​​): Bucky is trying his best to provide and care for his daughter who just entered first grade. Everything was alright until she asks why everyone else seems to have a mom except for her. You’re just a plain mob boss who wants to turn a new leaf. Challenges arise when the world refuses to let you take a softer, non-violent route. A little girl helps you navigate a compromise.
Series masterlist
One shots
This list is divided in two parts, the one shots that have a summary and the ones that don’t, still I keep adding one shots from time to time
❄️Teach me how to love (by @bonky-n-steeb): Your professor isn’t as sweet as you thought.
❄️Sleepless nights (by @kikixreverie): Weeks of not being able to get off leave you restless and without sleep, and after hearing your troubles through the thin walls, your roommate, Bucky, decides to help you out.
❄️Ask nicely (by @classylo): After a heated kiss in the Oval Office, you avoid your boss in hopes that the tension will wear off…he has other plans.
❄️Lay me gently (by @barnesmurdock): Unsure about how sex works, Bucky trusts you enough to lose himself to you under the wakandan night sky.
❄️His Barmaid (by @gutflorizt): You work with Bucky, your dads best friend. You can’t hepl but drool over him and it doesn’t help you work with him every single night. Luckily the feelings are reciprocated one special night.
❄️Study date (by @navybrat817): Bucky doesn’t like other guys near his best 
❄️Bad date (by @firefly-in-darkness):  Your date isn’t going well but a chance encounter with the Mafia King of Brooklyn changes your view on how your night is turning out..
❄️A second chance (by @upallnite2getbucky​): While having the worst day, you find something unexpected that turns your day around.
❄️Ticking time bomb (by @buckyslittlegirl​): Bucky joins you for a Disney movie marathon! But what happens when the most comfortable seat in the room happens to be his lap
❄️Bad Intentions (by @seventven​): Dr Barnes, y/n’s psychology professor and final year thesis supervisor is going through a rough patch in his marriage. following a heated argument at the end of class, dr barnes spots y/n at an on-campus bar. he makes a twisted revelation.
❄️Incessant (by @gutflorizt​): You take the kids to your ex husband while you go on a date 
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❄️Satisfied (by @adrinktostopyourthirst)
❄️Happy Day (by @angrythingstarlight)
❄️Librarian and Peach (by @angrythingstarlight)
❄️Am I enough for you? (by @buckys-p1um)
❄️King in your story (by @sinner-as-saint)
❄️Caramel kisses (by @stylesmygucci)
❄️It's you and me, that's my whole world (by @cruelfvkingsummer)
❄️To be so lonely (by @sableseb)
❄️Incoherent (by @buckyhoney​)
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Bucky: Today reminds me of you.
Y/N: Why?
Bucky: Because it’s hot as fuck.
103 notes · View notes
pherelesytsia · 9 hours ago
The Enemy within our own Ranks
Pairing: Bucky Barnes x female/Reader
Summary: Y/N is injured during a mission.
Warning: Fluff, Wounds, Weapons, Hospital
Word Count: 1.9k
a/n: Requests are open!!!
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In the dark, the gun shimmered dangerously, and Y/N fused with the shadows. Gunshots broke the silence and voices shrieked like a banshee.
The wound on her arm pained, but it was nothing compared to the ache spreading through her heart. The red blinking light was blinding, but her eyes scanning the surroundings saw every movement, every particle of dust, everything daring to move in the heartless howling wind knocking on the rusty walls.
Her hair was tied into a tight ponytail. The suit, as dark as the night, blended with the shadows of the stacked boxes. Faint light broke through the darkly tinted windows, but Y/N saw the stars summoned by the moon hidden beyond a thick layer of clouds announcing a storm. Exhaling loudly, Y/N stopped. Her lungs burned painfully. Hope spread through her eyes. Voices echoed but Y/N wasn´t troubled, knew Sam was close.
Blood did not stick to her fingers. She jumped out of the shadow of the boxes, had examined each of them and was more than sure the goods they were looking for weren’t in the abandoned facility. Walking through the widening passage, she turned, heard the voices calling her by her name, and she raised her right hand in a gesture of greeting. Sam's name escaped her. Fear laced his voice. Her eyes widened. Y/N stumbled, unable to understand what had happened, tried to stay strong, but she fell like a wounded soldier on the battlefield, in the eye of the storm. Footsteps mingled with screams. Her throat was rough. Brows almost touched; was certain it could not be her voice. Y/N tried to find the reason for the pain. Her eyes tried to focus. Gently, she applied pressure to the wound. Her eyes widened in fear, feeling a liquid stick to her fingers. Desperately, she tried to fill her lungs with air. Disgust clouded her mind. Slowly, she brought her shaking fingers closer to her face. There was dimness, but Y/N saw the crimson sticking to her fingers. She swallowed, feeling dull. She had never liked the sight. Hissing in pain, her head fell to the side. Looking into the distance, she noticed a figure running hurriedly towards her. Her mouth gaped open. Her mind was fuzzy. Y/N tried to concentrate and suddenly she saw clearly, realised what had happened and an almost faint smile spread across her lips as she recognised Sam looming over her with a worried expression coating his features. He gulped as his eyes widened and for the first time, Y/N saw fear in his eyes. His lips formed to words, loud commands, silent promises, but Y/N was deaf, couldn’t read the lips. Ragging rivers streamed down her features.
            "Hey, it's all right, it's all right. Everything's fine." it sounded like a prayer.
Fear was in his voice, and it scared her.
            "Why would an enemy draw attention to themselves?" Sam screamed.
No one answered.
            "Agent down." Sam continued.
Y/N didn't notice how her breathing quickened. Swallowing she tried to understand what had happened. Blood rushed through her body. Adrenaline filled her veins. Time passed fast and slowly more memories returned. Sam was kneeling over her, applying pressure to the wound, forbidding more crimson to escape the wound.
Gazes met. Sam swallowed a bitter taste spread in his mouth and then he cursed. Quickly he lifted her. Sam apologised, begged for forgiveness, hoped she would speak, would answer sarcastically, but Y/N said nothing. Hastily he stormed past Walker, ignoring him, not listening to the remarks, running away, knowing no one else was in the abandoned warehouse, having seen every one of the rooms.
            "Don't you dare to close your eyes! Bucky can't survive without you and he'll kill me. You don’t want that, right? He would torture me day and night." Sam spoke, deaf to the shouts and complaints.
Steps echoed. Doors creaked and leaves were rustling. The wind enveloped her and Sam cursed as Y/N shivered uncontrollably in his arms. Her head fell back and Sam repositioned her head so it rested on his chest. Y/N tried to speak, murmuring and whispering. He breathed assuring words and cursed like a sailor as the young woman turned awfully silent. The doors of the jet opened. A voice was calling her by her name, muffled and filled with pain. The vibrant light streaming through the door was dazzling, chasing the shadows into the deep woods. Bucky stepped out of the jet but he didn't rush, rooted like a tree into the ground, couldn't move. The darkness was a heartless foe and Y/N fell into the pit of snakes, not strong enough to fight, feeling weak, not wanting to fight with hands and fists against the enemy.
            Monitors beeped in a steady, nearly melodic rhythm. The walls were blank and the heavy stench of sanitiser lurked in the air. Devices attached to her body monitored her like a loyal dog, announcing if her heart was growing weaker. Eyes fluttered open. Her head hurt terribly. A groan escaped her lips as her head swivelled to one side and realised night ruled over the land. No houses towered beyond the wide windows and merely the stars were twinkling. Voices muffled through the door entered the room but Y/N couldn’t understand any of them. No more pain spread through her body and as she looked to the other side, and noticed the bouquet of flowers in the blue vase and the card with her name written on it in curved letters.
Narrowing her eyes, Y/N concentrated and tried to decipher what was written beneath her name, but a cold chill entering the room caught her attention. A man with aged features smiled as he saw Y/N had finally awakened from deep slumber and walked towards the bed.
            "Mrs Barns, I see you are awake. You have caused us great concern." the older gentleman said in a low voice.
With a smile on his face, he examined the monitors.
            "What happened?" she whispered.
Y/N glanced at the man and placed her hand on her aching throat, not recognising her voice.
            "You have nothing to worry about Mrs Barns, the memories will return soon. It can happen. You were on a mission and got injured but the wounds have healed completely.” calmly the doctor informed.
Y/N gulped, thought the doctor was telling her a twisted tale but then she remembered what was forgotten, the mission, the abandoned factory in the middle of the woods, Bucky and Sam.
            "Are the others, okay? Where are they?" Y/N stammered.
Fear took over her vision. She rose quickly, far too quickly, and felt a sharp pain causing her to gasp. The man in the white coat stepped forward, placed his hands on her shoulders and gently pressed her back onto the pillow, forbidding her to raise.
            "Mrs Barns please lie down, the wound is healed yet you should be careful for the next few weeks." spoke the doctor in a cautionary tone. "And to answer your question, your colleagues are fine apart from one younger gentleman," he reported.
Her eyes widened in fear.
            “My husband?” Y/N breathed.
The doctor shook his head in disagreement.
            "Walker?", "Yes exactly," he confirmed.
            "What exactly happened to him?", "I didn't treat him personally but he had a swelling on his face, bruising and a broken arm. He's fine under the circumstances and your other two colleagues are fine but you scared agent Willson. I have never seen him so shaken. He was the one who found you and Mr Barns has not left your side," the doctor continued.
Y/N looked up, knew what had happened, was sure that Walker had not been attacked nor injured on the mission.
            "Would you like to see your husband; I assume Mr Barns is your husband. He filled out the papers and documents in your name. Mr Barns refused to leave the room but a few hours ago we had to send him away to change the bandages on your body." the doctor reported.
Y/N nodded in response.
            "I will send your husband right away and if you need anything then you have to press the button and if your values don't deteriorate in the next few hours then we can send you home in the morning." the doctor assured.
He made his way back to the door and smiled one last time at the woman, turned and left the room. Y/N closed her eyes. Not a moment later the door was opened again. Eyes met. Y/N did not recognise her husband at first glance, saw fear in his eyes, noticed he had not slept much, looked almost sickly, pale as the face of the moon.
            "My love," Bucky breathed.
Quickly he walked towards the bed, almost tripping over the chair he had spent days on. His hands, rough, wounded, rested on her cheeks, cupped them carefully and Y/N lost herself in the ocean, seeing pain and despair slowly fading as he realised his wife had finally woken up.
            "I'm fine," Y/N answered the unasked question.
            "I was worried about you," Bucky whispered.
At the tone of his voice, her heart broke into a thousand pieces.
            "What did you do to Walker?" Y/N asked.
Darkness spread in his eyes, remembering what had happened, what he had done as darkness clouded his sharp mind.
            "I thought you were going to die. I was in the jet and I saw Sam carrying you. There was so much blood and when I saw the smile on his face as he told he had accidentally shot you, that it was surely a graze, I wanted to kill him. This bastard laughed and didn't apologise. He didn't even ask how you are. My hand slipped. It was an accident, just as it was a simple accident that he shot you." hatred, dark venom dripped.
            "I should have been more careful.", "No, he should have used his head. Sam told me you waved, that you drew attention to yourself. What enemy would have drawn attention to themselves? You almost died in my arms. I almost lost you." Bucky spoke, running his hand through his hair.
Y/N laid her hand on his, resting on her right cheek. No further words had to be uttered. She smiled, saw the golden ring adorning his finger. The beeping of the monitor capturing her heartbeat picked up speed and caused Bucky to smile, aware he was the reason for her raised heartbeat.
            "Can you lie down with me, Bucky?" Y/N whispered.
Hated faded into oblivion. Bucky wordlessly nodded. The bed was not big enough, but it was enough. Carefully he lay down at her side and wrapped his arms around his wife. The pain waxed into oblivion, his roughened fingers slid over her skin, cautiously, turning as his fingers neared the white bandage.
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buckybarnesandmarvel · 2 days ago
What do you take me for, a shitty boyfriend?
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Pairings: Bucky
Warnings: Sad!Reader, ‘Forgetful!Avengers’, Cursing, Fluff, Bucky is the best boyfriend ever
Summary: On the day of your birthday, it seems as if everyone forgot, but little did you know, your loving boyfriend has a surprise for you.
A/N: This sweet idea is for @chrisdrysdale​​‘s writing challenge. CONGRATS BABE FOR 700!! My prompt was “Of course I remembered.”
Thoughts are in italics.
You slowly stirred. You turned and buried your face further into Bucky’s chest, feeling him sleepily wrap his arm around your bare waist. You hummed contently at the feeling of the cool metal brushing against you.
You lay there for a bit, just enjoying the presence of your lover, before your bladder decided to give you a wake up call. You tiptoed to the bathroom, so you wouldn’t wake Bucky up, but failed. Stupid super hearing.
“Baby, where’re you going.” Bucky’s voice was deep, husky and laced with sleep. His face was stuffed in the pillow, so it came out muffled.
“Just to the bathroom, bub. I’ll be back.”
You came back a few moments later, to see Bucky stretched out on the bed, his eyes closed. You tiptoed over to him and straddled his waist, watching a smile spread over his face. His eyes fluttered open and focused onto your lips. He sat up, his hands on your waist and kissed you deeply. The two of you stayed like that for a few, bliss, moments before you pulled apart. Jumping off the bed, you grabbed Bucky’s hand and pulled him with you.
“What’s the rush, doll?” He laughed.
“I want to do so much, today!” 
Bucky raised an eyebrow at your eagerness.
“Why? What’s today?”
“Buckyyyy...” You whined, giggling.
“I’m serious, doll, what’s happening?”
His voice was serious but confused, so you turned to face him. Bucky looked genuinely confused as a million thoughts rushed to your head.
He’s just come back from a mission. He’s still tired. Yep, that must be it. He wouldn’t actually forgot. Would he?
It’s just a birthday, right. It’s no big deal. They come and go every year. It’s fine. Don’t make a fuss and make him upset or feel bad. It’s okay.
You plastered on a fake, yet convincing smile before answering Bucky.
“Nothing, Buck, it’s just a pretty day and I wanna make the most of it.”
“Well, c’mon, then, doll, what’re you waiting for?”
You fell back onto the bed, exhausted. Bucky had left to do a workout with Sam and left you outside the bedroom door. The day was amazing but you were hurt that he forgot your birthday. It had never happened before. You just chalked it up to him being too busy with missions and work. Deciding to keep your mind off of it a bit, you lay down on the bed, still fully dressed, and closed your eyes.
“Hey, doll. Y/N. Wake up, baby.”
Bucky rubbed your shoulder as you awoke . The feeling of him envelopeed you in warmth until you remembered earlier.
“Oh. Hey, Buck.”
Picking up on the disappointment in your voice, he raised a brow.
“Okay.... what’s up?”
“Really?” You scoffed. Getting up, you walked to the bathroom and shut the door firmly behind you.
Bucky came up and knocked multiple times on the door.
“Y/N, doll, come out. Talk to me.”
“Fine. You want to talk? Let’s talk.” You strolled out of the bathroom door, walking past him. “What day is it?”
“It’s my birthday, Bucky! How did you forget that? I wanted to do so much with you. I wanted to enjoy today with you but you didn’t even remember!” You burst out.
He stood there, silent for a few moments before grabbing your hand. Your protests were cut off as he pulled you along. He led you to the common room.
In front of you, was the rest of the team. Tables were laid out wih food, drinks and decorations. Balloons were placed on either side as the team blew whistles as you came into view. You covered your mouth, tears welling up in your eyes. You turned to Bucky.
“Bucky. I-”
He cut you off, placing a sweet kiss to your lips. Everybody clapped and ‘awwed’ around you before turning on the music.
“What d’ya take me for, huh, a shitty boyfriend? Of course I would never forget.”
“I- thank you, Bucky. I love you.”
“I love you more. Now, c’mon. We’re gonna be here all night.”
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thestoriesweforgot · 2 days ago
Dangerous, But Fun ꕥ Masterlist
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Civil War!Bucky Barnes x Assassin F!Reader
Warnings: AU: canon divergent, language, non-graphic violence and assault, references to murder and attempted murder, mentions of blood and injury, stalking, crime, smoking, dark comedy, unconventional rom-com, sassy!Bucky, flirty!Bucky, eventual smut, fluff, slight angst, enemies to somewhat reluctant lovers (on the Reader's part lol???), list to be updated as the series progresses
Summary: You are the best at what you do, and you must succeed where countless others have failed: kill the Winter Soldier. But unfortunately for you, nothing seems to go right whenever this man is involved. Where does he get off, smiling at you like that when you're trying to put a bullet in his brain? Is he making fun of you, buying you flowers and asking you out on dates instead of running for cover? Why does he touch and kiss you like that? More importantly... why do you let him?
I do not consent to having my work copied, reposted, or translated on outside apps or sites. If you see my work outside of Tumblr and not under the username @thestoriesweforgot, then it has been posted without my permission.
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part one
part two
part three
part four
part five
(Last Updated: July 1, 2022)
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buckysbritishwoman · a day ago
Back to You (4)
Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Fem!reader / Winter Soldier x Fem!reader
Summary: Hydra has a way of hiding secrets and one of them just happened to be you. The support Soldat to the famous Winter Soldier himself. But in a mission gone wrong, things changes, and life just isn’t as it seems.
Warnings: swearing, blood, violence, depressive thoughts, panic attacks, use of weapons, angst
Word Count: 4.7k
A/N: So this has to be one of my favourite chapters to write so far. I hope it doesn’t seem too choppy, I did read over it and try to make it less jumpy, but it may still come off that way. Let me know what you think!
Taglist: @matchat3a @locht3ssmonster
Part One Part Two Part Three
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As a soldier for Hydra, emotions weren’t allowed there was no use for them in your line of work. If Hydra could get rid of emotions completely they would, but the brainwashing only got one so far. As a soldier there was rigorous training to supress any unwanted emotions until there was this simmering rage that overtook everything. It was almost like a red haze.
The other emotions on the other hand, such as fear; happiness; sadness; they were all supressed, pushed away and locked into the furthest part of your mind, next to the memories of times forgotten. During the last few months, those very emotions were leaking. Completely alien to you during your half-brainwashed state, you were unsure on how to proceed with these feelings. Over the last few weeks, spending time with Steve and the others, you had gotten used to these feelings, gotten used to how they made your body feel.
But this was different.
As Rumlow moved from holding on to the collar of your hoodie to the ponytail that Natasha had helped you learn how to put up after you had a panic attack with your hair touching your neck, not used to the sensation as it was always in a tight and unforgiving bun. The pure, cold fear that seeped into your heart turned your blood to ice was something new. You hadn’t felt fear like this, it seemed to cling to every inch of you making you shiver, your muscles clench. You didn’t like this.
Rumlow pulled you up, grunting as he did. Pulling you closer to him, his warm breath on your cheek did nothing to warm you up, it seemed to have the opposite effect, your breath hitching in your throat. “You have caused so many issues, you bitch. But that’s all going to end.”
You wanted to fight back, you were a soldier, you had the strength and the training. But if you were being honest with yourself, you didn’t have the heart too. Your breathing was becoming ragged, and your mind was racing to the point you couldn’t keep up with it. You tried to focus, just like the therapist had tried to teach you.
Things you could see, the wreckage of the café, the people that were inside crawling out, their skins marred with dust and blood. The smell wasn’t any better, the smell tang in the air from the explosion was like tar on the tongue, you couldn’t get it off. You could smell something burning, it almost made you eyes water with how bitter it smelt. Your ears were still ringing slightly but you could hear the screams, hear the sound of the mother calling for her baby, desperation thick in her screams. It was obvious she was crying. It wasn’t working.
Everything around you were too overwhelming until you felt it, the paper of the photograph that you were clutching bit into your skin, the sudden pain snapping you out of the panicked fog in your brain. Pain. That was something that you could focus on.
There were sharp pains in your chest as you breathed, most likely something to do with your ribs. There was stinging all over your legs and arms, most likely from micro cuts. There was a gash on your knee that you could feel blood seeping out from. The searing pain of Rumlow holding your hair tightly. The warmth on your skin from the explosion. Pain was something you could recognise and focus on.
It was in that moment of clarity that you knew, you had to fight for him. You had to fight for your chance to see the Winter Soldier. Rumlow was your best chance, and he was here in front of you, giving himself to you on a platter. Without hesitating, you shove the picture into the pocket of your hoodie, keeping it safe and in one fluid motion you bring your elbow back, hitting Rumlow in the ribs. Even through all the noise you hear the satisfying crack.
He grunts in pain, his hand loosening on your ponytail just enough for you to twist around, using the leverage to punch him hard in chest. With the added strength of the serum, Rumlow flies backwards, hitting the floor hard with thud. You flex your hand, it felt a little stiff from not fighting for a while, the muscle memory was coming back though, the familiar rush of adrenaline was starting to flood your veins.
Rumlows laughed, your eyes focusing in on him as he sits up and spits the blood out his mouth, his eyes focused back on you. Rumlow always had this sinister glint in his eyes when he killed, it never used to bother you much but now, you being on the receiving end of it, you couldn’t help but feel that cold fear rear its ugly head. “You aren’t worth the trouble. I don’t know why they took you back then, you weren’t needed.”
You look at him perplexed. You had no idea what he was on about. You finally find your voice, but it came out a little weaker than you had wanted, the toll of the day making itself known. “What are you talking about?” 
“Ah so the bitch talks,” He pushes himself up slowly, his face scrunching up in pain slightly. Once standing again, he shakes his arms, loosening up. “You see, Hydra already had their weapon, but they decided to take you. They wanted insurance that their dearest weapon would always work for them, so what better way than to use the woman he loved.”
The words were like bullets to your heart. You knew they wanted more soldiers, there was a batch of soldiers in a lab somewhere in Siberia, but you hadn’t heard any news from then in a little while, not after everything had gone wrong during the training sessions which ended in unfortunate bloodshed. The doctors that stayed could barely control them. Hydra still favourited their first weapon, the Winter Soldier. But you never knew that the only reason you were created was to be used as leverage, that you weren’t ever really needed. 
“They weren’t even sure you would survive the process; you were so weak back then. That’s what the notes say. But somehow you pulled through and then they had the perfect team,” Rumlow shook his head, that smug smile still on his face. “Whenever their little toy got to close to remembering things or you, they threatened you to get him to cooperate, when that didn’t work they put him back under.”
“What was I then?” You hadn’t meant to ask the question out loud, but you had to know. If you weren’t one of their weapons they wanted to use, what good were you?
“You were useless, you still are. Why do you think we are here? It’s not to rescue you,” Rumlow spat the words like poison as he pulled out his gun from the holster, aiming it at your chest. He flicked the safety off. “For your information, he started to remember you again, he refused to kill you when ordered to. We fixed that though.”
He was remembering you? The Winter Soldier was remembering things? There was still hope, you had to get to him. It was clear to you now that the man that you had once loved with all your heart, Bucky, was in fact the same man as Hydra’s favourite toy, the Winter Soldier. Although all the evidence was there, hearing Rumlow confirmed it. 
“It’s a shame the serum was wasted on a pathetic human like you, but orders are orders,” Rumlow shrugs nonchalantly. Rumlow would’ve made a good soldier, you were sure of it, he was never one to turn down orders or hesitate when it came to killing. He didn’t need the torture to erase the emotions, he was born heartless. “Hopefully you’ll still be conscious when he comes to kill, so I can watch the sadness and hurt in your face as your soulmate, or whatever you called him, kills you.” 
You were about to run forward to try and disarm him when you heard the sound of your name. You turn just in time to see a flying red suit coming straight toward you and Rumlow. You watch as the red suit hurls straight into Rumlow who, once again, was thrown backwards and lands even further away.
The red suit settled down next to you, turning to face you. “I’m here to collect the other fossil.”
You point to yourself, unsure of what he meant exactly. 
“Yes, I’m talking about you,” Suddenly the face of the suit disappeared to show a man you didn’t recognise. “I’m Tony Stark. Rogers called me.” 
You look around the now hectic street, abandoned cars were haphazardly parked in the streets, the bright flashing lights of police were illuminating the street. You could also hear the sounds of gunfire, the louds bangs echoing. You couldn’t see Steve anywhere.
“If you are looking for Rogers, he’s off having his own fun. I’m here to take you back to the compound, let’s hope you aren’t as heavy as Rogers.”
You didn’t have time to say anything as Tony grabbed your arm, his helmet snapping back into place. Then just like that, the floor disappeared beneath your feet, and you were off, flying through the streets.
The scream was trapped in your throat, your eyes watching as the ground was lost beneath you. You look back down the street, spotting the police cars. You could also see the familiar black SUV’s of Hydra. Rumlow had brought backup.
“Rogers, I’ve got her.” You could hear Tony speaking. You couldn’t hear the reply, but you were glad that Steve was okay, he had saved your life back by the café and you hadn’t had a chance to even think about if he had survived.
You heard it before you saw it. The distinct sound of something flying at high speed towards you. You weren’t sure who threw it, but you spotted the pole aimed at Tony instantly, the soft whistling as it flew through the air was all you could focus on. You wanted to warn Tony but there wasn’t enough time, any noise you made was lost in the wind.
The pole hit Tony square in the back, the sound of metal on metal ringing out. The jarring pain was enough for Tony to let you go and then you were free falling towards the ground. You could hear Tony cursing as he stabled himself in the air before turning around and rushing to get you.
But Tony had no chance as you felt your body colliding with something hard and warm. You were expecting the hard ground to impact you but instead you felt the glass shatter on your back as you both collapse through a window, the body that had hold of you letting you go.
The hoodie cushioned your arms enough that the glass barely made cuts, but it didn’t save you from the ache in your muscles and bones. You groan and push yourself up, thankful for the serum and the durability it gave you. You look over at the person who took you out, only for your eyes to widen.
Here he was, the man you were looking for.
The Winter Soldier, or Bucky. You weren’t quite sure what to call him yet.
He had already got to his feet, the gun aimed at you. His eyes were cold and hard, almost black looking. They didn’t bother putting a mask on him this time and it gave you a chance to see him. His face hadn’t changed much, he looked older though, not the same baby-faced man you feel in love with. But he was still there, in his features, the man you loved was still there. You wanted nothing more than to walk up to him and hug him, which was something you hadn’t wanted to do in a long time. You weren’t sure you remember the feeling of a hug.
You had become somewhat familiar with the feelings that had returned to you, but this light feeling in your chest, the way your heart raced. The way the world seemed to stop, and it was just the two of you. You recognised the feeling from saccharine dreams. This was love. You loved the man in front of you.
Instead of a sentimental reunion the two of you most likely dreamed of in the past, you were staring down the barrel of the gun aimed at you. But he wasn’t shooting. You could see his finger twitching over the trigger, but he was hesitating. You didn’t want to fight him, but this left you no choice. You would make him see, make him see you for the woman he was supposed to love.
You immediately set into attacking him, the muscle memory of fighting sinking in. Pushing past the screaming pain in your body, you kick the gun out his hand, it clattering the floor somewhere nearby, you don’t both to look. One mistake in combat and you could end up dead, your focus was only ever meant for your opponent.
The sudden kick seemed to set him into motion, blocking the punch you were already throwing his way, aiming at his face. Always aiming to incapacitate or kill. With his metal arm, he caught you fist. You knew he would normally twist the arm, making the person useless for the time being but he just held your fist there, the whirring and clicking sound making you smile slightly.
“I’ve been trying to find you again.” You say, you breaths coming fast heavy, your heart beating wildly. Here was the man you were longing for, yet he wasn’t here to welcome you with wide arms. You could already deduct what his mission was, the words of Rumlow ringing in your head.
‘When he comes to kill you.’
They had given him the orders to kill you. With everything going on with all the recent revelations, this was the breaking point. They had taken everything from you, they had created you yet were willing to just throw you away. Worst of all, they had sent him to do it.
Well, you weren’t going to let it happen. You were willing to fight for what you wanted. Even with a war going on in your head, you wanted more. You wanted a life, the life that they had robbed from you. You wanted your Bucky back.
“I’m not going to let them take you again,” you said, the conviction in your voice was clear. “And I won’t let you kill me.”
With that, you brought up you other fist, aiming for his face. You knew he would normally block it by grabbing your fist, but that’s what you wanted. He let your other had go, his metal arm grabbing the other fist that was aimed at him. With ease you relax your arm and drop low, grabbing his metal arm and yanking him down. With the force of him being pulled down, you bring your hand down on the side of his knee, making his leg bend, bringing him to his knees.
Although Hydra may have created you to just be leverage, they had also trained you with the best, you weren’t about to let them get away with this. They had created a monster and you were about to be their worst nightmare.
Although the movement surprised Bucky, he quickly got out of your hold, bring his elbow round and hitting you squared in the face. You could feel the blood pouring into your mouth from the split lip that you now had. You had ended up on the floor, looking up at Bucky.
He was quick, coming for you, a knife now in his hand. You scooted across the floor, until your back hit one the office desks you hadn’t noticed. With Bucky advancing you grabbed the only thing available. Pushing it forward, the rolling office chair hit Bucky, only faltering his step slightly, but it was enough time for you to get up.
You quickly dodged out the way of his knife, attacking him back. This was how it went on for a while, both of you trading and blocking each other’s blows, the sounds of both of you grunting through exertion, his metal arm whirring and clanking. You knew all his tricks; he was the one who taught you the majority of them.
You could hear gunfire outside suddenly. Breaking one of your own rules, you spare glance outside, you could see that Tony was currently dodging said gunfire, giving it back just as much, but you could see that he was attempting to try and get to you. Whoever was shooting at him, knew where the both of you were. You needed to get Bucky back, the fear and determination, an odd combination, fuelling you further.  
With your focus on Tony outside you never saw the desk chair coming at you. The chair collided with you, a pained grunt leaving your lips as you collapse in heap with the chair on top of you. You push it off quickly, but not quick enough as Bucky advanced again, his eyes never leaving you.
You try to feel for any sort of weapon to help you but there was nothing in reach. You try to stand up, but a shooting pain in your arm stops you, your breathing caught in your throat. Something was wrong with it.
You felt the weight of Bucky on you as he pinned you, his heavy frame immobilising you. You watching as he brought his metal fist up. Waiting for the final blow, you were surprised it didn’t come.
Looking up at Bucky you noticed his eyes weren’t on you like they were before, but on something beside you. You slowly turn your head and instantly spot the picture that you had put in your pocket. The edges were torn a little, but the picture was still intact.
Peering back at Bucky again, you could see something shift in his eyes, his eyebrows furrowed together as he stared. You swallowed, the taste of blood and sweat making your stomach roll. You could feel all the aches and pains coming back in full force, your body was starting to shut down, the lack of food and sleep recently was starting to take its toll. Even as a super soldier, you needed food and sleep. You could live off a little and it would be enough to survive, but barely.
You had been barely surviving at the compound.
“Bucky,” you whisper, your voice full of desperation. “Please.”
The man on top of you slowly moves his gaze to you, a flicker of recognition settling in his eyes. You could see it, how his eyes softened as he drank your features in, how his mouth quirked a little, almost like he wanted to smile at you. A small flame of hope ignited in you.
You brought up you uninjured arm, slowly and tentatively. Bucky flinched as your fingers brushed through his long hair, his eyes never straying from your face. You push further, your fingers brushing up against his cheek his stumble rough against your raw and bloodied fingertips. You could feel how tense he was, how his jaw clenched, even with such a small touch.
You could feel the tears beginning to sting your eyes. This was your man. This was the man you had fallen in love with, and you were able to touch him again. Even though throughout the many years you did missions together you had touched him, fixed cuts and clean wounds. Nothing compared to this, this was different. This was the first time you had touch him with feeling. The first time you were touching him as his lover, as Y/n.
This was his first time being touched so gently, so… lovingly.
“Soldat!” Bucky flinched at the term, his eyes darkening slightly. You couldn’t see them, but you could hear them. Dozens of men, Rumlow at the lead. “Soldat, kill her now.”
Rumlows voice was vicious and bitter. You weren’t sure when Tony was anymore, you couldn’t hear the gunfire outside anymore. You werent sure where Steve was, but you wished he was okay, that he was still fighting. But there was a sinking feeling in the pit of your stomach, it didn’t seem good if Rumlow and his men had made it up here. You could see you were losing him; you were losing Bucky again.
You couldn’t lose him.
You felt the weight of him leave you and then suddenly you were being pulled up by your hoodie. You grip on to his metal arm, trying to get him to budge, hitting it meekly. You could see his clenched jaw, the determination in his eyes.
You couldn’t stop him, you were broken and battered, you had little energy left. Or maybe you had just given up. That little flame of hope dwindling as Bucky dragged you to the window you had both fallen through. The sound of the glass crunching under his foot and the wind rushing past set your teeth on edge.
This was it. Even though you had thought you’d gotten through to him, even though you had that small flame of hope, it wasn’t enough. You didn’t have time to nurture the flame into something that could withstand the vicious darkness that was Hydra. And maybe that was okay. You knew Bucky wouldn’t have wanted you to see him like this. You knew he’d hate the man he had become.
But in all honesty, you didn’t care because you were the same. You hate what you have become. The monster that they had created. Their own personal weapon. Maybe it was better this way. Dying at the hands of a lover was a better what to go. Although you hated the thought of him being wracked with unyielding grief if he ever remembered you.
“Don’t worry about me,” you gasp, your feet feeling the edge of the window, the wind whipping at you. “I love you Bucky.”
Bucky brought you close to him, his breath hot against your cheek. “I’ll find you again and I’ll come back to you.”
Your eyes widen, your breath hitching in your throat as Bucky looks at you one last time, this time you knew it was truly him that spoke. It was truly your Bucky. His eyes were the clearest you had ever seen them, you could see your own reflection in them, he was seeing you, the real you.
You wanted to reach out and hug him, to hold him.
You needed him.
But as soon as he had said the words he let you go, and you were falling. You were falling fast. You looked up at the man you loved, watching you fall to the ground. Confusion and sadness. That’s all you felt.
Then suddenly you weren’t falling. “Gotcha,” a familiar voice called out. “God damn you super soldiers are heavier than you look!”
You look up at the man holding you, Sam was flying with metal wings attached to his back, holding on to your arm like a vice. You were moving too fast, and you couldn’t see the building anymore as you looked back. You couldn’t see Bucky anymore.
As Sam slowed down and lowered both of you to the grass, you knees collapsed under you, the weight on your chest too heavy for your body to hold up anymore. You couldn’t hear anything except the words Bucky had whispered to you.
I’ll find you again.
The pain of a breaking heart was familiar and something you never wanted to feel again. You could hear someone in the distance screaming, it wasn’t until you felt someone’s arms around you that you realised it was you. Tears were streaming down your face, you couldn’t breathe.
I’ll come back to you.
You looked up at the sky, wishing for the agony to leave you, wishing for the one man who could ease the discomfort in your chest. Wishing for Bucky. You had lost him again. How could you be so weak? You wanted to go to him. You needed too. He was alone with those men.
You clawed at the ground beneath you, trying to pull the dead weight of you body forward. Your eyes were blurry with the unshed tears, you could recognise the soreness in your throat as you pleaded with whoever could hear you to let you go, to let you go to him. You fought off the hands that seemed like acid on your skin, burning you as they held you back.
A sharp pain in your neck didn’t even register until your eyes started to drop, your body getting heavier and heavier until you suddenly felt weightless. Blackness settled in and you were out.
Bucky watched as you fell. He knew that man would catch you, he had spotted him coming this way, heard him say that he had spotted you. He couldn’t allow you to get in the way. He needed you out the way for now, he needed you somewhere safe so he could come back to you. But he meant those words.
Seeing that picture had broken something in him. He recognised the people, the memory. He remembered it. Then suddenly the words hit him like a truck. His memory cleared enough for him to look down at the woman he was trying to kill and recognise her.
You had touched his face. He brought up his metal hand to his cheek, the cold metal not the same as your gentle and loving touch, it lacked the warmth and the intention behind it. He already craved it, was already addicted. His skin was scarred with your heat from where you had touched him. He wouldn’t forget this time.  
But there was still this overwhelming darkness in his head, it seemed like black tendrils wanted to lash out and grip hold of him. The men behind him from Hydra, the words were still rooted in him, he needed to get rid of them. He needed to burn Hydra to the ground so he could rid of the damn invisible strings that still controlled him. He wouldn’t settle until the organisation had been razed to the ground. Until that man was dead.
But he could start with these men for now. Just a few men out of the many that he had to kill.
He turned around, taking a few steps forward, making his face impassive to give nothing away. Rumlow was looking at him with a furious look, his eyes almost bulging out his head. “You were supposed to kill her.”
He spat the words out, his spit flying everywhere. Bucky didn’t care though, his words meant nothing to him. He bent down and picked up the picture that had broken the dam in his mind. He folded it up and slipped it into his pocket.
“I told you before,” he said, his chest rumbling as his fingers flexed around the knife in his jacket. “I’m not killing her.”
With that Bucky threw the knife at one of the closest men to him, the knife embedded in his shoulder, causing him to drop the gun. Bucky slid forward, low to the ground and grabbed gun, already taking out other men. None of them really had time to get any good shots in. The mainly dinged off the metal arm Bucky used to defend himself.
Soon, the floor was littered with injured or dead men. Bucky chucked the gun to the floor, looking over the Rumlow. He hadn’t gone for the kill on him. He was useful to Bucky. “What are you doing, Soldat, you are under our control”
The words tried to control him. Bucky could feel them, hated that they had an effect on him. Hated that he almost wanted to comply to them. But he shook it off, remember your voice, your words. Your touch. His promise.
“I’m not your soldier, now take me to him. Take me to Pierce.”
49 notes · View notes
bucky-barnes-diaries · 7 hours ago
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Pairing || Beefy!CatholicPriest!Bucky x Inexperienced!Innocent!Virgin!Female!Reader
Summary || Your parents invite Father James to your home for dinner. Throughout his stay, he just can’t seem to keep his hands to himself…
Word Count || 3817
Contents & Warnings || Smut, Dark/Taboo Themes — NSFW, 18+ Only, Minors DNI, non-con, religious themes, blasphemy of religion, sacrilegious acts, biblical references, sexual content involving a catholic priest, strict/religious parents, explicit content/language, age-gap (reader is early 20’s, Bucky is early/mid 30’s), sexual thoughts and acts, pet names (baby, sweet thing) Father kink, size kink, corruption kink, authority kink, semi-public, inappropriate/forceful touches, hand over mouth, vaginal touches, fingering, teasing, begging, degrading/shaming, praising, orgasm denial, orgasm, mention of bodily fluids.
Authors Note || We’re only starting to scratch the surface for what this man is gonna do to you ;P
Disclaimer || English is not my first language so I apologise for any mistakes or misunderstandings!
Priest!Bucky Masterlist
I don’t do taglists anymore so please follow @bucky-barnes-diaries-library and turn on notifications to never miss out on my writing!
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A tradition you and your parents had kept for years was to invite the priest of your small town over for dinner once a week. Even though Father Jacob, who had been a highly respected priest in the community for years, had retired, your parents still wanted to keep the tradition going with the new priest, Father James, who happily accepted the invitation.
On the day of the dinner, you and your mother worked hard from early morning to prepare for the three-course meal you'd have tonight with your special guest. Once the house was clean, and all the food had been prepared, you had 30 minutes to get ready for your guest. You took a shower to freshen yourself up from the day's work, feeling relaxed and content once you were done.
Clad in your cotton white panties and matching bra, you walked to the closet to find something to wear. Scanning through the dresses, you wanted to find a perfect one that showed off some skin but was still respectable. You wanted to look pretty for Father James but also keep your daddy happy by looking presentable.
As you looked through the dresses, you started to slip into one of your daydreams again…
You'd developed such a hard crush on your priest—sinning and dreaming of him every night, wishing to run away with him and live happily ever after, just the two of you. To have him teach you about life and explore with him every desire that had taken over your mind the last couple of days.
There was a knock on your bedroom door, pulling you out of your fantasy world.
“Honey, are you in there?”
“Yes, mother.”
“Do you need any help with getting ready?”
“No, mother, but thank you.”
You shook your head to get your mind back on track—find the perfect dress to wear.
Ah, this would be perfect to wear.
It was a beautiful white dress with lovely red flowers scattered on the thin material. It stopped mid-thigh. The shoulder straps were thin, exposing your shoulders and clavicles, while the shoulder puffs lay comfortable and beautifully down your upper arms. The dress gave away just the right amount while still keeping it classy and honourable.
You didn't go too heavy with the makeup—approximately the same amount as you did for Sunday church when you first met Father James.
Once you were done, you checked the clock on your nightstand; the time read 5.54 PM. Father James would be here any minute now. With one last look in the full-length mirror, you gave yourself a nod of approval of all the elements combined, making you look cute and presentable.
As you went down the stairs, the doorbell rang, chiming throughout the house that there was a guest at the door—Father James.
“Honey, will you get that?” Your mom called for you.
“Yes, mother!”
A tingling sensation overcame you that you would soon, in just a matter of seconds, be in his powerful presence once again. You'd craved to be in his proximity every waking moment since the last time you saw him in the confessional.
You walked to the front door, slight wobbly in your legs, and took a deep breath in and out to compose yourself. A sweet and welcoming smile was plastered on your face as you opened the door.
When you opened it, it was like a bright light of beauty, sex and grace hit you hard, your eyes becoming bewitched by him. There he stood, looking gorgeous as always with that luxurious hair and that beautiful face. That signature smirk of his had you feeling weak in the knees. An inaudible moan escaped as you exhaled. His broad and massive frame towered over you, and all you could think about was climbing him like a tree.
“Hello,” he said with a light chuckle. He must have noticed your slight absent state.
You shook your head mentally to try and pull yourself out of the trance.
“Oh, h-hello, Father. Welcome, and come on in.”
“Thank you.”
He did a slight bow and entered. You moved aside so that he could get through the door, and you closed it after. When you turned around, he was right behind you with a sinister smile on his face.
“Oh, wow, you look mighty gorgeous today, young lady, very pretty.”
Your eyes peered up at him—so sweet and innocent as you slightly tilted your head to the side. The back of his finger lightly traced your cheek while his tongue poked out to lick his lips. His beautiful blue eyes displayed the same dark cloud of evil and wickedness in them as the last time you saw them.
That simple touch almost had you faint. You wondered what would happen when he had his full touch on you, forcing his hand on your body.
It felt like an eternity as you stood there in the foyer, fantasising about standing on your tippy-toes, snaking your hand in his soft hair and pulling him down for a kiss while he held your waist in a tight grip and pulled you flush against his big frame, but it had only been a few seconds of your time.
“Hello, Father, welcome to our home.”
It was your dad.
Father James quickly retracted his hand from you and put on a respectable smile before he turned around to greet your dad.
“Greetings. Thank you for having me,” they shook hands, “I was just complimenting the outside of your house to your daughter. It's lovely.”
Was that what we were doing?
Your dad put on one of those fake, over-the-top laughs, clearly wanting to make an impression on Father James. It was rather annoying.
“Why, thank you, Father. Please,” he gestured into the living room, “we can take a seat in here.”
Your mother stood by the coffee table like a good and honourable housewife. On the table were some lovely appetisers to munch on and some refreshing lemonade to drink while waiting on the main course to be finished in the oven. You found your seat on the sofa. Father James sat on the other end of it, farthest away from you. You wanted to scooch closer so you could sit thigh by thigh.
Your parents sat on different armchairs on the opposite side of the small table.
“You have a lovely home, ma’am.” Father James complimented.
“Oh, please, Father, call me by my first name.”
You all engaged in conversation while waiting. It was mostly your dad talking—asking and quizzing Father James on where he lived previously, what his interests were and how he was settling into our small community. He also spoke about his own interests and hobbies and how it was to work at the police station. You and your mom chimed in every once in a while.
After a few minutes of talking, the oven sounded that the main course was ready to be served.
Everyone takes their seat at the table, your mom and dad on one side, while you are seated next to Father James on the other. The food looked and smelled delicious—making your mouth water. You were so hungry, but it wasn't allowed to eat before a prayer had been said.
“Father James, would you please bless our food?” Your dad asked.
“Of course.”
Father James presented his hand to you so you could hold it. Your heart was thumping against your chest as your hand came in contact with his—sparks and tingling feelings lined your nerves as you touched skin. Your small hand fit so perfectly in his bigger one. You wanted to stay in his grasp forever.
When everyone had found each other's hand, you all closed your eyes in preparation for the prayer.
“Thank You, Lord God, for this food we are about to eat. Thank You for the hands that have prepared it, for those sitting around the table who are here to share it….”
While Father James was praying, he suddenly released your hand from his. You furrow your eyebrows, wondering why he let go when the praying wasn't over yet. Suddenly, you feel a hand, his colossal hand, taking a grasp on your naked upper thigh. You jolt slightly from the chair at the unexpected surprise, an inaudible gasp emitting from you. Father James never fumbles over his words while all of this is happening under the table, your parents utterly oblivious to what's unfolding.
Any other person would most likely get up in disgust at such an inappropriate touch, but you craved and needed his forceful hands on you. You had wanted more of his delicious touch since that interaction while taking Holy Communion at Sunday’s mass.
He inches higher up, your skin feeling electrified, where he goes over with his palm, and when his thumb swipes the edge of your panties, you quickly shut your legs on his hand and grab the edge of the table with your free hand.
No, he couldn't?
He couldn't be touching you like that.
Not while your parents were right here. That would be taking it too far.
But it didn't seem like he cared where you were because he pried your legs open with his hand and gave you a light tap on the inside of your thigh as a warning not to do that again.
You obliged, not wanting to make a scene in front of your parents.
You bite your bottom lip hard, drawing blood, and shut your eyes even harder when the pad of his thumb finds your pleasure pearl through your now-soaked panties. He circles it in small teasing circles, building momentum with each stroke. You want to touch your body all over while his hand focuses on your most sensitive area. You want to moan and cry in pleasure as he touches you so heavenly, but you have to be dead silent, dead still.
All while this is happening, he never stops praying, almost seeming unbothered by the sinful acts he's performing on you underneath the table—like this is something he does daily.
Your toes curl in your shoes as he pleases you—circling your tingling nub in the most perfect and satisfying way. You’re so close—chasing that incredible euphoria that feels like heaven.
Please don't stop. Please don't stop. Please don't stop. Keep going, Father.
You beg of him in your mind, hoping that he’ll somehow be able to hear you.
“... we sit here as evidence of Your goodness. Thank You for the gift of today and all who are here to share it with us. In the name of Your Son, Jesus, we pray. Amen.”
“... Amen,” it sounds across from you.
His hand retracts from between your legs, and his sinful touches come to a halt. Your pleasure stopped and denied, and you whine out at the loss of him. You didn't want it to end and without thinking, forgetting where you were for a split second, you cross your legs and start humping to try and find your sweet release.
“Honey!” Your mother calls for you.
With a gasp, you stop and open your eyes to find your parents staring at you with questioning faces. Father James hides a smirk on his face, but you see that slight wickedness in his expression—that he’d managed to make you so flustered with pleasure. Your face was horrified that they noticed what you were doing.
“You didn't say Amen.”
Oh, thank the heavens!
They luckily hadn't any suspicion.
“I-I'm so sorry. I was just really into the prayer Father James held.” You hated lying, but it was what was needed in this situation.
“Thank you, Lord, Amen.”
“It's ok, sweetheart. It's good that you felt the Lord’s presence.” Your dad said.
More like the Devil.
“Alright, let's eat,” your mom announced.
Throughout the whole dinner, you mostly stayed silent, only speaking when you were spoken to. Your head was slightly bowed in shame and somewhat angry as you ate. Your mouth mostly remained in a thin line.
You felt so resentful towards Father James for leaving you so unsatisfied. He controlled the prayer. He could have kept it going for a few more seconds so you could find your sweet release, but he had chosen cruelty towards you.
“This was a delicious dinner. Thank you so much for inviting me to your lovely home and company.”
“Ah, well, we have the girls to thank for such a blessed meal. They've been at it since this morning,” your dad said proudly.
“Well, thank you, ladies,” he looked at you both, “this was excellent.”
“Thank you, Father James.” Your mom felt so honoured by the compliment.
All you did was smile at him.
“Well, should we proceed to the living room again for dessert? I'll get it fixed right up. Honey, why don't you sit with Father James? Keep him company?”
“I’ll go and see if I can find that collection I mentioned earlier to you, Father.”
Your mom went to the kitchen to prepare the dessert. Your dad went to your messy garage to try and find whatever it was he needed. While you were tasked to keep Father James company for the time being.
You went to the living room and sat on the sofa. Father James finding his place beside you. Due to the weight of him, the cushion dipped, pulling you slightly down with it. Your naked thigh came in contact with his clothed one, and your shoulders bumped. You were wide-eyed, not sure how to react? If you should politely move away or keep your ground? You decided to listen to your body, screaming at you to stay instead of your conscious.
You were so nervous—practically shaking at having him sit so close. What were you going to talk about? What were you going to say? Luckily Father James was quick to strike up a conversation, facing you.
“So, tell me, young lady, what do you like to do around here?”
You were raised to always look at the person you were talking to, but with Father James, it was impossible to look for too long—with his captivating good looks and enchanting eyes. Every once in a while, you looked down at your twiddling hands to not fall into his devil trance.
“O-o-oh, w-well, I, um… There's not much to do in this small town. Most of my friends have gone off to college, a-and the few that remain, we usually just hang out whenever we can.”
“Why haven't you gone off to college?”
“Um… I-I'm not really sure what I want to do yet, so I'm just living at home and helping my mother around the house whenever I can.”
“And… you and your friends… what do you like to do?”
“We hang out at each other's houses, watching movies or reading books, a-and sometimes just talking about life and God.”
“And uh…” Father James turned his head towards the kitchen to see if your mom was still turned with her back to the living room. She was. Father James then placed his colossal hand on your upper thigh like he'd done previous—digging his nails delicately into your soft skin. You gasped at his touch, closing your eyes as his thumb caressed the flesh of your inner thigh.
“... and… is there someone you like in town? A boy, maybe?” His voice dropped an octave as he whispered in your ear. His lips skim the shell of them. The sound of his low and raspy voice has tingling shivers trickle down your spine.
“N-no… I-I mean y-yes.” Your voice was barely above a whisper as you fumbled with your words as he inched his way higher up your skin, just like at the dinner table.
“I-I'm interested in so-someone, b-but it's no one m-my age. I-it’s someone much older.”
“Is this the same one you told me about in the confession? The same one you think about when you play with your sweet little pussy at night?”
“Who is it? Is it me, sweet girl?”
“P-please, Father, I-I can't say.”
“Oh, it's me; I know it is. You're such a little whore for fantasising about a man of God in that way.”
He cups you over your soaked panties, his palm putting pressure on your bundle of nerves. You can't help it when a loud whiny moan escapes you.
“Shhh.. sweet thing,” his other palm clasps over your mouth to keep you quiet and to manoeuvre your head so you'd keep looking straight at him—straight into his possessed eyes, “we don't want your parents to hear what a dirty little girl you are, now do we?”
You shook your head no. It would be scandalous if they knew what was happening to their sweet and pure daughter.
Your eyes were pleading for more now that your voice had been taken from you—for him to proceed with his forceful touches on your innocence.
Finally, his hand went into your panties from above. A raspy groan formed in his throat as his fingers came in direct contact with your wetness.
“Fuck… you don't know how long I've wanted to touch you, sweet thing. How much I've wanted to defile this innocent little cunt of yours. This is just the beginning. I have so many plans for you. For us.”
Your heart was thumping in your chest from fear and excitement as his middle finger teased your entrance—toying with you. You grabbed his clothed thigh to brace yourself—digging your nails into the material.
A muffled scream sounded against his palm as he forced his finger into your warm tightness—stretching you out.
“So wet you are for me, dirty girl.”
It was kind of painful to begin with—his fingers were longer and thicker than yours. Your eyes were becoming glossy with tears each time his finger drove into you. His thumb circling your bundle of nerves managed to ease some of the discomfort. Your cries of pain and pleasure were drowned out by his hand on you—making it impossible to ask him to stop or plead for more.
Slowly it became more bearable, more enjoyable, your hole accommodating his digit gradually with each stroke.
His eyes were fixated on you the entire time—watching your innocent, sweet eyes react to his sinful and sacrilegious acts. Every once in a while, he would flicker them to the kitchen to ensure your mom was still preoccupied with the dessert.
“Do you think you can take one more?”
A second finger teased your entrance—wanting to penetrate you, to fill up your innocent hole even more.
You shook your head no. A single tear fell down your cheek. You couldn't. It would be too much, too painful.
But he pushed the tip of it in slowly, and you closed your legs hard around his hand, trapping him while shaking your head once again.
“It's ok, sweet thing. I won't be cruel towards you. Not this time, ok?” He wiped your tear gently. “Open them up for me again, yeah?”
You nodded in acknowledgement and opened them once more for him to continue his devil work.
“We’ll take it slow for now. Work you up to it.”
He continued driving his single digit in and out of your tight wetness and circling your tingling bundle of nerves with his colossal thumb. Your pleasure started building up, and with a sudden curl to his finger, he made you see stars as you’d never done before. Your eyes rolled to the back of your head as he kept stimulating that delicious spot inside you. You'd fingered yourself multiple times before, but it’d never come as close to this euphoric sensation. Your inexperienced fingers were no match to such expert ones that seemed to know all the ins and outs of a woman.
“There it is, huh?
Your hand went over his that was working on you—not wanting him to stop the devil work he possessed as he made you feel so insatiable good. Your soft mewls of pleasure were muffled by his hand. You started rocking back and forth on the sofa, chasing your orgasm.
“Such a desperate and needy girl you are, huh? Are you gonna come for me, sweet little thing?”
You nodded your head furiously; You were so close. As close as you were at the dinner table, only this time you hoped he would give you what you wanted, what you craved and needed—release.
“Do it. Let go. Let go all over my finger.”
An explosion hit you hard as a delicious out-of-this-world sensation travelled through the nerves lining your whole body—making you convulse on the spot. You felt like passing out at how hard it hit you—your eyes fluttering shut while a few tears rolled down your cheek, your toes curling at the intensity. All while this was happening, while you had this extreme reaction, Father James never stopped his finger using and abusing your hole. Never stopped his delicious stimulation on your precious, tingling pearl.
“Good girl. Such a good girl you are for me.” His praises came through gritted teeth. His tone was deep and sinister, like Satan himself.
He stilled inside your panties when he felt you’d had enough. An animalistic groan sounded from him as he graced your temple with his lips, leaving a delicate kiss on your skin. You whined against his palm when his touches disappeared. Your hole contracting in desperate need for more. You closed your legs to try and stop the aching you were feeling.
When he removed his hand from your mouth, you inhaled and exhaled the pure air. You wanted to say something, but your lips were trembling. Your body was still in shock from the intense orgasm.
“Mmm… speechless now, are we? Was it that good, baby?”
All you could do was nod your head yes. You wanted to thank him, praise him, and give back to him for making you feel like that. But there was no time to recover and show your appreciation because your mom was now coming in with the dessert, and you could hear your dad close the door to the garage.
“I hope you all have some room for dessert?” Your mom asked cheerfully as she walked out of the kitchen.
Father James moved away from you slightly to make things a little less suspicious. You wiped the wetness from your cheeks and fixed your dress. Clearing your throat of any pleasure lace into it and putting on a sweet and innocent smile on your face—making it seem like everything was normal and that Father James definitely hadn’t just defiled you in this religious household.
“Oh, maybe just a small bite,” Father James said while putting the finger that had just been inserted in your tight hole into his mouth, tasting your slick arousal while giving you a wink, “I’m quite full….”
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Thank you for reading 🖤 Feedback through a comment is highly appreciated! Or let me know through an anonymous ask if that feels more comfortable. As well as a reblog to share my work with other people!
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pinkiebieberpie · 14 hours ago
camp counsellor!bucky x camp counsellor!reader, because i'm with my family by the lake and there is a lot of kids from a camp and this inspired me.
you and bucky shamelessly flirting the whole summer, spending nights together when kids are sleeping, swimming together ⛱️🏞️
"you don't look like a type of guy who likes to sing by the fire" you said one time laughing a little bit
"really? so what type of guy do you think i am?"
"i don't know, but you are pretty good with this and they like you" and you are extremely attractive and i want you to pin me to the wall
"i'm pretty good with a lot of things" 😉
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moodboards + blurbs masterlist
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holylulusworld · 6 hours ago
Heavenly Creature - Mistakes
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Title: Heavenly Creature - Mistakes
Rating: Mature
Summary: A stranger saves you from an unfriendly encounter. Is he a knight in shiny armor?
Pairing: Bucky Barnes x fem!Reader
Characters: Tony Stark, Steve Rogers
Warnings: heavy angst, language, hand around throat, non-sexual choking, kidnapping, threats, hostage situation, non-consensual injection/drug use, mentions of past medical procedures, hurt & comfort
Word count: 2,4 k
Divider by @firefly-graphics​
A/N: Part 2/3
<< Part 1
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“Buck, I think we got the wrong girl,” a third voice says as you drift into darkness again…
“Fuck’s sake, Buck. Stop! You can’t give her more of this shit,” you drift in and out of consciousness. Your eyelids flutter open, only to fall close again. Your tongue is glued to the roof of your mouth and your body feels heavier than it should while you struggle to even lift your hand off the thin mattress you are lying on. “Tony told you to not give her more.”
“She’s fighting the drug, or else we would know everything about her role within Hydra. I know it was her, Steve. I remember her face clearly. I know this woman is the one working at the lab.”
“Hmm…smells good,” your head lolls back as Bucky tries to convince his friend you are one of the monsters using him as their tool. “Mommy, can I have pancakes?”
“Buck, she’s barely awake. You pumped her full of the drug and she still didn’t tell you anything about Hydra. Tony ran a background check while you tried to press the truth out of her. She is a librarian for years. There is no connection to Hydra. What if you are wrong?”
“This can’t be! She has the same eyes and hair. I remember her voice and scent,” Bucky hovers over your trembling form to get a closer look at you. “It must be her. I know it.”
“Buck, you were drugged most of the time at that lab. They wiped your memories too. All the others had a past with Hydra. She’s a small-town girl. Y/N came to New York to live with her aunt after someone shot her parents.”
“Her parents?”
“Yeah. Dr. Y/M/N and Dr. Y/F/N Y/L/N got killed at their house. Y/N slept at her best friend’s house that night. That’s why she survived. Her parents weren’t so lucky,” Steve closes the manila folder in his hands. “Buck, I don’t think this is the woman we are looking for. She’s too young.”
“No. It’s her. I just know it. Give me a bit more time and I can prove it. She will admit all of her sins, Steve.”
“No more drugs,” Steve warns. “You are going to kill her if you give her more. We all agreed to bring Hydra down with all might after—”
“After our little private war,” Tony walks into the room, sighing as you start to stir. “I agreed to help you find all of them, not to torture innocent girls. Your friend shouldn’t cross another line.”
“Bucky, let us check on her past again. Don’t do anything until Tony and I are back. I can’t let you hurt an innocent woman.”
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“Good. You’re finally awake,” your brain feels a little fuzzy as the man holding you hostage leans over your body. You can feel his eyes on you but are too tired to open your eyes. “Let’s try again, shall we?”
“I don’t know,” it’s too hard to lift your head so you just lie on the thin mattress and pray this nightmare will end soon. “I miss my mom.” In times of need or whenever you are having a hard time, you miss your mother the most. 
“What did you do for Hydra?”
“I don’t know Hydra.”
“What did you do to me?”
“I’m losing my patience here, doll,” you don’t even flinch when he slams his metal fist into the mattress next to your head. “Answer my damn questions.”
“I did,” you slowly blink your eyes open to look at Bucky. He’s panting heavily. His hair falls in his face, and he looks like he’s about to explode if you don’t give him what he wants. You just can’t. There is nothing to admit. 
“Did you inject the drugs? Did you wipe my memory? Did you abuse me?”
“Abuse you?” repeating his words you weakly lift your hand to touch his cheek, but he slaps it away, making you wince. “I would never abuse you. You’re so pretty. A heavenly creature...”
“What was your job? I want to know everything,” he growls now. “I will break every bone in your body if you don’t start talking right now.”
“I’m a librarian,” you sniffle. “I hand out books, Sir. I never worked for Hydra, please. I heard about Hydra for the first time in classes, and later in the news. I don’t work for them. I never hurt anyone, please.”
“Stop lying, doll,” he grabs your shirt to bring your face close to his. Bucky swallows thickly as you start to cry. “Give me something to work with. I know you weren’t one of the big bosses.”
“Please. I didn’t hurt you.”
“I will kill you if you don’t stop lying,” your eyes wide and fearful you look up at Bucky as he pushes you back onto the mattress to straddle your thighs. His metal hand wraps around your throat and you fear this is the end. “TELL ME THE TRUTH! What about your parents, or your friends? Do they know about Hydra?”
“My parents worked at a lab,” eyes rolling back in your skull you are close to losing consciousness once again. “I was scared when they took me with them to show me their lab.”
“Your parents,” Bucky releases your throat to cup your chin roughly. He forces you to open your eyes again. “Stay with me. I need to know more about your parents.”
“Hmm…I wanted to play but daddy took me with him. His friends weren’t nice,” you murmur as his nose brushes over your cheek. “They had guns. Mommy said it’s alright.”
“Guns? Where? When? Doll, tell me everything,” he’s so close to getting answers he barely recognizes he started to cradle you in his arms. “Please.”
“…I don’t know,” you nuzzle your face in his neck. “Daddy said it’s a game. He put a scarf over my eyes, and we played hide and seek until we were at his lab. It hurt…hurt so bad..”
“Hurt? What hurt? Who hurt you?” he carefully shakes your body to force you to open your eyes again. “Doll, stay with me. I need to know more. Who hurt you?”
“Daddy said it will help a little boy. I wanted to help him,” darkness welcomes you once again and Bucky can only hold you in his arms. He won’t get answers tonight. Maybe he’ll never get answers from you.
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“Looks like Y/N’s father was one of Hydra’s top scientists. Her mother, though. We don’t know how she fits in the picture,” Bucky nods as he watches you stir in your sleep. “Did you even listen? You were right, Barnes. I can’t believe I didn’t find out about him sooner.”
“She was a child,” Bucky lowers his eyes to not look Tony and Steve in the eyes. “Y/N told me about her father and mother. They brought her to the lab. She said it hurt, and that there was a boy she wanted to help.”
“We should dig a little deeper, Tony,” Steve watches his friend run his hand over your head. “I think, it’s necessary to find out more about her parents. Maybe she was involved in all of this.”
“I said, she was a child,” Bucky yells. “It can’t be her. I was wrong, Steve.” You slowly blink your eyes open, whimpering as Bucky opens the handcuffs holding you to the bedframe. 
“Buck, what are you talking about? You said Y/N was the woman at the lab,” the blonde splutters. “We believed you.”
“I remember now,” stroking your cheek, Bucky tries to silently apologize for all the things he did to you. He sighs as you lean in his touch. “She wasn’t one of the people at the last lab.”
“But you do know her, right?” Steve presses on. “Buck don’t tell me you lied to us. Do you know what we risked bringing all the remaining members of Hydra down for you?”
“I think I saw her at one of the other labs around twenty years ago,” Bucky licks his lips as you move a little closer to listen to his words. “She played with a doll. I-I don’t know much about her.” He whispers. 
“She was a child?” Tony asks as you sniffle silently. “They brought a kid to the lab. What kind of parent would do such a thing?”
“Y/N sat on a chair, watching me. I watched her play for a while, and she smiled at me, but then…she screamed as the doctor took another blood sample,” Bucky grunts. “I tried to break out of the chair to help her. I didn’t make it, but the girl ran to me and held my hand, telling me everything is going to be alright.”
“That’s why you remember her eyes, hair, and scent,” Tony concludes. “Jesus, Barnes. We could’ve killed the poor girl. You better get your brain checked again.”
“My memories are torn. I confuse things sometimes,” you look at Bucky, feeling calmer as he starts to stroke your hand with his metal fingers. “She held my hand, and I held hers. I confused my memories of her with the ones of the woman abusing me…”
“Buck, we all need a break. Let Bruce and Dr. Cho check on the girl. She needs food and sleep too. I can bring her to the medic bay, and you get some rest. Maybe we didn’t do too much damage and she can go back to her life.”
“No,” you grasp for Bucky’s hand as he wants to leave the bed. “They will hurt me again. Please don’t go. Please—”
“Shit. How much of the stuff did you give her?” Tony doesn’t like the way you cling to your kidnapper. “She shouldn’t be so relaxed close to her kidnapper.”
“I think she suppressed the memories of her parents and the lab. Now that Bucky opened Pandora's box, she will remember every painful moment of her childhood.”
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“Daddy where are you?” waking from yet another nightmare you jolt up on the bed. At first, you believe you are at home, in your bed. But, to your disappointment, you end up face to face with the stranger kidnapping you. “No. Please…”
“Doll,” you scramble away as Bucky tries to touch your cheek. “We need to know more about your parents and the lab.”
“Why did you bring me here? Please stop hurting me. I’m a librarian,” you whimper. “I don’t know anything.”
“My mind doesn’t work as it should. I confuse things, people, and events. I remembered wrong. You were there, at one of the labs, but you are not the woman hurting me.”
“No,” you violently shake your head. “I don’t remember you.”
“Doll, I need you to remember what happened when your daddy took you to the lab,” he softly says. You don’t want to remember your past or the things your parents allowed the doctor to do to you.
“No, please no.”
“Don’t you want the people hurting you to get punished? Let me hurt them for hurting you,” he softly says, shushing you when you’re about to cry. “Doll, tell me what they did to you.”
“I-“ you choke out a sob. “Please don’t force me to remember. I don’t want to remember, please. They are gone for so long. I don’t want to think about them.”
“You have no reason to help me. I understand if you hate me,” Bucky brings you into his arms to cradle you again. “But help me to bring them all down.”
“My parents died a long time ago. All I remember is my life with my aunt,” hiding your face in Bucky’s chest you fight the memories wanting to flash up in your mind. “I don’t want to think about my childhood.”
“You talked about a boy. Do you remember his name? Maybe he was with you at the lab,” he softly whispers, hoping you will tell him more about your parents and the lab. “My memories are unreliable. They wiped my memory and drugged me. Help me, please.”
“Mommy said I can come with them one day,” you clutch his shirt and choke out a sob. “I was so, so happy. I hated to be alone in the big house and play with my dolls all alone. I missed them when they were away.”
“That’s good, baby doll. Take your time,” he presses a soft kiss to your hair, humming as you clutch his shirt a little tighter. “What else do you remember?”
“Everything,” he feels his stomach drop as you start to cry in his chest. “The first day they brought me to a doctor. They ran test after test. Blood, urine, my hair…I don’t know… I hate needles since that day.”
“What about the boy? Did you see him too?”
“A boy?” closing your eyes as you enjoy Bucky’s warmth. You shouldn’t feel safe in your kidnapper’s arms, but you do. It confuses the hell out of you, though. “I don’t know. I only remember the doctors, nurses, and my parents. Mom cried sometimes.”
“Buck, we should stop for today. She looks exhausted, and-“ Steve sighs as you wrap your arms around Bucky. “I don’t get why she clings to you.”
“I remember you, soldier,” Bucky stiffens in your embrace. “That’s your name, right?” you lift your eyes to meet Bucky’s stormy blue ones. “The others called you like that. You were there the day they wanted to hurt me again. I cried and you were there.”
“You held my hand,” he whispers. “I held yours.”
“After that day, mommy refused to bring me back to the lab,” you whisper. “A few weeks later they got killed.”
“Did she say anything about the boy?” Steve wants you to have a break, but you are too afraid to let go of Bucky to even recognize Steve’s presence.
“Daddy said I’m his ‘lil angel,” you continue. “He wanted me to save a boy. He called him James. I don’t know more about him. I never asked questions. Sorry.”
“That’s good, Y/N,” a warm hand touches your shoulder as you wreck your brain to remember more from the days at the lab. “Buck, we should bring her to the medica bay now. She needs a rest.”
“They said he’ll die if I do not give him my blood. Daddy wanted me to make him strong again,” it’s a struggle to keep your eyes open. You close them and rest your head against Bucky’s shoulder. The drugs still influences your body and mind. “I wanted to save him, soldier.”
“James,” Bucky nods as his friend furrows his brows. Steve inhales sharply as you repeat the name over and over again. “Do you think what I think, Buck?”
“I’m afraid so…”
>> Part 3
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Tags in reblog.
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crazyunsexycool · 2 days ago
Is it a crime?
Chapter 1
Pairing: Mob boss Bucky Barnes x Mob boss Reader
word count: 3.7k
Warnings: Character deaths, gun violence, blood, little bit of fluff, angst, physical abuse, threats of sexual assault. If I missed anything please let me know.
Special shout out to @cats-and-sheep for letting me annoy her by asking for her opinion on everything 😂
A/N: I hope you enjoy chapter 1, this chapter is really going to show more of how Bucky and reader met and how their relationship developed. There is a link towards the end of the fic this is so that you see the style of dress I envisioned for that particular moment I am not using it to represent the reader. This fic was going to be a one shot and it was super different but then I started changing the plot a little and now we have this. It was originally inspired by the this song:
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Series Masterlist:
6 years old
A black dress had been laid out on your bed, a stark contrast to the pink princess theme your room had been decorated with. With some help you put on your dress, black shiny shoes and a bow in your hair to match. Once you were  ready your nanny brought you down stairs and out to the waiting car where your father was sitting in. The drive was silent but you were busy playing with the doll you had brought along to notice your fathers red rimmed eyes. 
You cried during the service as you asked if you could go find your mom. That only seemed to make the others around you more upset. She was gone, your mother had been taken from you and you barely understood what it meant. Alex, your father’s right hand man, had to explain it to you. He pulled out a locket from his pocket as he knelt down in front of you. 
“This used to belong to your mother. She never took it off,” He said as he undid the clasp and placed the locket around your neck. “Now it’s yours.” he caught a stray tear with his thumb and gave you a small smile. You went back to your father’s side and held his hand as he spoke to everyone that came up to him, you ignored them though instead you kept looking down at the picture in the locket. 
Your home was full of people and it was all so overwhelming, your nanny taking you from the living room and into the play area you had outside. It’s where you first saw him, the little boy with raven hair and bright blue eyes. You had been sitting on the swings looking out into the rest of the yard when you heard him behind you.
“I can push you if you want.” 
“No, thank you.” 
“Oh ok. Can I use the other one?”
“Yeah.” You tell him as you watch him hop onto the swing next to you. 
“I’m Bucky.”
“I’m Y/N.”
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10 years old
Your finger lays over your lips signaling for Bucky to stay quiet. Both of your backs pressed against the wall as you wait for your father’s men to walk past you. As the footsteps fade down the long hallway Bucky sticks his head out making sure the coast is clear. 
“Let’s go.” He whispers. Your steps are as quiet as possible as you make your way down the hall. Pushing one of the double doors open you look inside.
“Come on.” You push the door open and let him pass before slowly putting it back into place.
“Keep a lookout by the door Bucky, I’ll be right back.” You order in a hushed tone before disappearing further into the room. It only took a few minutes but you returned with what you came to find. 
“Ready?” He asks with a grin on his face.
“Ready, let’s go.”  
He pushes the door open and walks out first. You retrace your steps back down the hallway and out to the backyard. Safely making it to your play area and away from all of the adults. 
“Hey Becca,” you call out to Bucky’s 6 year old sister. She hops off the swing and rushes over to you. “Here you go.” You hand her and Bucky a cupcake.
“Becca no one can know we went into the kitchen and got these ok?” He tells his little sister. “Promise you won’t say anything?”
“Pwomise.” She grins, her face already full of frosting before you and Bucky take your places at the swing set.
“Best heist yet.” He says lifting his hand in the air waiting for yours.
“We’re the best partners in crime.” You say as you high five him. 
Footsteps creep up behind you as you enjoy your cupcakes.
“Well what do we have here? A couple of thieves I see.” 
“Alex!” Your father’s right hand man. “We didn’t steal anything.” You argue.
“Really? Not even cupcakes from the kitchen?”
“No, sir.” Bucky speaks up from beside you. His tongue darted out and over his lips to get rid of the crumbles that were left.
“You know I would believe you if you didn’t have frosting on the corner of your mouth.” He says with a laugh. “Don’t worry princess, your secret is safe with me. But let this be your first lesson. In our line of work you have to make sure you’re paying attention to the little things and don’t get caught.” 
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15 years old
“What?” Your eyes were wide as you looked at your best friend. You stood in front of your lockers at school, having completely forgotten that you were putting in the combination for the lock to get your next set of textbooks. Your hand instinctively goes to your locket, it’s what you did when you got nervous. 
His cheeks were pink as he averted his eyes. The thought of having to repeat himself was mortifying. “I said, 'Would you like to go out?’ as in on a date, with me.” 
“Me?” There was no denying that you had a crush on Bucky but you never thought he felt the same way. So it felt like a dream when you heard him ask you out. 
“Of course you. I’m asking you aren’t I?” 
“Yes! I mean yeah, I’d like to go out with you on a date.” You say with a coy smile. 
“Cool. I’ll uh- I’ll see you after class ok?” 
“Ok.” You respond before he leans in and gives you a quick kiss on your cheek. For the rest of the day all you can think about is the date. Although you never talked about it you missed your mom, especially in times like this. Your father never remarried and there was a lack of a motherly presence in your life. 
It had been an awkward moment when you got your period for the first time. He didn’t know what to do and one of the maids, Rosie, had to help you. That’s what you thought would happen this time too, you’d go to Rosie and ask her about it. 
That afternoon you were in the Library with Bucky and Steve, the newest addition to the school. He was bullied a lot so you and Bucky stood up for him, and no one dared to go against the kids of the two most feared mob bosses in New York. He was quiet but sweet and loved art. It was nice having more friends because again you were the daughter of a mob boss and people would stay away from you. Steve saw past that and soon the three of you were inseparable. It was another afternoon of working on a group project for the three of you but this time you and Bucky held hands whenever you could. Stealing glances at each other  and giggling like the teenagers you are. Steve scoffed and said he was leaving stating he would only come back when you were done being gross.
Before you knew it the day for your date arrived, Saturday morning was spent with Rosie talking about what you were going to wear. You were still nervous though there was still that longing to have a mom with you. Not that you didn’t appreciate Rosie but she did have an actual job to do. That’s why you were caught off guard when she said you had a guest.
“Mrs. Barnes?” you asked as you walked into the living room.
“Hi sweetheart. How many times am I going to tell you to call me Winnie?” She smiles at you, “Now, how are you doing?” The older woman had always been kind to you, taking time to check in and make sure you were doing well.
“I’m good. Nervous actually.”
“Does it have anything to do with your date with James?” she teased.
You nod and she smiles. 
“He thought you might be so he asked if I would come over and help you out. Becca’s here too.” The younger Barnes pops her head out from behind her mother smiling brightly up at you. The younger sister you always wanted.
“He did that for me?” 
“Of course, now come on, show me what you are going to wear.”
She spent the rest of the afternoon helping you with your nails, your hair and changing your outfit like three times. Giving you advice and even telling you that if Bucky did something you didn’t like to tell her and she would take care of it. It was nice to have her with you and it only made you miss your mom more.
The date was great, even though you had known Bucky for a long time this was a different side of him. He was sweet and almost bashful but finally being able to tell you how much he liked you and you tell him that the feeling was mutual was a huge change in your relationship. 
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18 years old
Bucky climbed in through your window, your father had wanted you to have time away from each other but it was impossible. He wasn’t only your boyfriend, he was your best friend. You both had just graduated high school and had decided on taking a year off before going to college. Your father resisted at first but ultimately allowed you to do so with the condition that you would go to the house in Boston and spend time learning the business there as well. Mostly so that you would spend time away from Bucky but it wouldn’t matter. Bucky had been your first everything and you knew he would be your last everything as well. 
So here he was walking through your room the night before you’re supposed to leave since his father was also sending him off to who knew where with Steve, who was also involved with the mob life but due to his fragile health his father had tried to keep him away. You wouldn’t get a chance to say goodbye the next day, both of you knew it was your fathers trying to give you both space since you were attached at the hip. It didn’t matter, you always found your way to each other. He kicks off his shoes before laying down. His head resting on your chest as one of your hands starts playing with his hair. 
“I’m gonna miss you, lovebug.” 
“I’m gonna miss you too, babe.” 
“How much longer before our dads realize we aren’t going to break up?”
“I don’t know, Bucky but I’m getting sick of their shit.”
“Me too, the minute I get the chance I’m making you my queen.” He says as he lifts his head in order to kiss you. As he pulls back he gives you a sad smile.
“I don’t understand how we can learn to shoot and run a criminal empire and that’s ok with them but to say we are in love with each other is crazy.” You sigh as you kiss the top of his head.
 “Once we take over they won’t be able to keep us apart though, I promise.” You laid in bed in comfortable silence after a while you thought he had fallen asleep. Letting the comfort of being with Bucky lull you into a drowsy state, you begin to fall asleep before he speaks up.
“Are you going to hang out with JJ?” 
You laugh, “Of course I am. His parents help maintain the house.”
“I don’t like him, I don’t trust him either.” he grumbles.
“Well you’ve said you trust me and that should be enough.”
“You’re right, I’m sorry.” he peppers your face with kisses until you can’t hold back your laughter. 
“I love you James.”
“I love you too Y/N.”
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20 years old
There had been a shift in your life a while back. Your father had gotten sick, his right hand man took some of his responsibilities while you had taken others. Some that weren’t as dangerous but just as important. School was on hold for you until your dad was better. But the longer you kept working the worse he got and the more discrepancies came to light, with money, guns and product. Your first thought was the lower level thugs that had started working for your father were trying to steal but you needed more proof.
 In the small amount of time you had been helping with your father’s dealing you had quickly learned who to trust. Aside from Bucky and Steve, you had become best friends with Sam and Sarah Wilson. The siblings that had to step up when their parents had been murdered. Although they had started with shipment and transport they were quickly moving up in the criminal world and they were part of the few that could be trusted. The next generation is what you were called by your parents. It was a small but strong group, which also included the Romanoffs and Starks. 
You had been with the Wilsons on the fateful night when life as you knew it ended. They had helped you find who was the one that was betraying your father and you went home to put an end to it. As soon as you crossed the front door you knew something was off. Your first instinct was to go into your father’s office and that was your first mistake. As soon as you opened the door you came face to face with your father on his knees with his hands tied behind his back. His face was beaten beyond recognition and you were frozen in place.
“Oh princess, you should have stayed out longer. I would have spared your life. But I guess that option is out the window.” Alex, your father’s right hand man since you were a child, stood on the opposite end of the office with a gun in his hand.  
Before you could take a step back you were shoved into the office, it was hard enough that you fell onto your hands and knees. 
“My, my don’t you look pretty like that.” The man that shoved you said.
“Rumlow, back off.” Alex growled.
“What, can’t we have a little fun before we end her? Maybe have daddy watch? Sounds like fun Tuesday night to me.” He smirked once he looked back at you, noticing you were glaring back at him. 
“That’s enough!” Alex turned to you with a scowl on his face. “Kneel next to your father, princess.” 
You did as he said, trying to buy some time to figure out how you would escape. “Why are you doing this?” 
“Why do you think I’m doing it? Do you really think I’m going to sit by as this lazy fuck you have as a father hands the keys to an empire to you?”
“I was born into this. It’s my right to take over, not yours.” You glared at him, already thinking of all the ways you’d make him pay for what he’s done and that’s not adding on the beating your father took. 
“Look at that, the little puppy wants to play with the big dogs.” Rumlow mocks.
“Rumlow shut the fuck up.” you spit back at him. He doesn’t like it and in a few quick steps he’s in front of you and  his fist connects with your face.
“You hit like a bitch.” You spit out some blood as you look up at him with a smile. 
“Sweetheart please don’t.” Your father begs from beside you.
“Listen to daddy, will you princess? Now,” your eyes are fixated on Alex as he closes the gap between him and your father. Gun in one hand and some documents in another.
“Sign the papers and I’ll let you both live.” Another of the men that had betrayed your father cut the rope that had been used to restrain him. He signs quickly and hands everything back to Alex.
 “That wasn’t so difficult now was it. Say goodbye to your dad princess.” You hear the shot and you’re immediately on your feet running out of the office with your father’s blood on your clothes. 
There’s no time to process what happened, you need to escape and the closest house is Bucky’s. So you rush out of the door as some of the men try to catch you, others turn away. They had seen you grow up and they didn’t want to hurt you but the fact that they did nothing hurt just as bad. 
Adrenaline is what had pushed you to make it to his house and it seemed like they knew what was happening already. Their guards are already on high alert. Before you even make it to the front door it flies open. He stands there, concern written all over his face as he takes you in. Bucky rushes towards you, trying to find where the blood is coming from.
“It’s not mine. It’s not mine.” You say over and over again as you begin to sob. 
“You’re ok, you’re safe bug. I’ve got you.” He says into your hair as you cling on to him. He’s all you have left, the last person that truly cares about you. 
“How did you know?” you look up at him with tears in your eyes.
“Rosie, she had a chance to leave when Alex first attacked your dad. Come on.” Bucky pulls you into the house and you see Winnie coming down the stairs with the same pained expression on her face as her son’s. 
“Oh sweetheart. I’m so sorry.” She says as she tries to comfort you.
“Get her out of this house. NOW!” Mr. Barnes’ voice booms as he makes his way into the hallway.
“Dad please, you heard what happened, we have to help her.” Bucky pleaded with his father.
“We both heard the same thing, she isn’t our responsibility and having her hear means war. Get. Her. Out.” 
“No. She’s my girlfriend and she needs help. I’m not turning my back on her.” 
You could only stand there, held up by Winnie as you watched the exchange between father and son. All too quickly things got worse as Mr. Barnes’ fist connected with Bucky’s face knocking him down. 
“You had a deal.” You speak up although your voice is shaky. “With my father, if anything ever happened to either of you, the other would protect their family. Please, I don't have anywhere to go.” You didn’t like to beg him but you had nothing left. “Just for a few days.” 
He gets in your face, close enough so that you can feel his breath on your skin. “Well your father’s dead isn’t he. No need to keep up my end of the deal. Get out.” 
He gets pulled away from you. “Leave her alone.” Bucky says as he punches his father right back making him fall against the wall behind him. Mr. Barnes pulls out a gun and points it at Bucky’s head. 
“Your choice.” He says to you. 
“No, please. I'll go, just don’t do this.” You cry out as Winnie holds you back. She’s crying out to her husband but her pleas are ignored. 
The door opens and Sam rushes in not expecting to find the scene he walked in on. He had made his way over as soon as he got word from Bucky.
“Sam, take her. Make sure she’s safe.” Bucky practically demands as he glared at his father. 
“I’ll keep her safe.” He reassures Bucky as he grabs your hand and pulls you out of the house and into his waiting car. 
Everything else about that night is a blur. You don’t remember Sam or Sarah packing you a bag of clothes and money and putting you on a bus to a random city. The next few months would be the worst of your life. There couldn’t be any contact with anyone from New York or from the life you knew before. The one thing you did know was how to survive, your father did this to you multiple times once you were old enough. Drop you off in a random city and you would have to figure out how you would make it back home so that’s what you did, you survived and made a plan. 
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You returned to New York 10 years later. Ready with new business deals and a crew you could trust. Surviving for 10 years almost on your own while the man that took everything from you got to live the high life. That was all about to come to an end for him. You had snuck around, stuck to the shadows but now you were going to knock down his door and make him pay. You survived and you made a plan and now it was time to put it into action. 
You stepped out of the car with the assistant of your date. Your dress fit just right, your hair was just how you liked it and the red lipstick you wore was perfect. It was time for you to make your presence known to all the families and what better way than by going to a party where they would all be attending. Your hand wrapped around your date’s arm as you make your way up the steps to the venue. The music was way too loud and there were too many people, but that’s what you get when you’re part of the mob. Everyone wants to know more about you. 
As you get to the door you’re stopped. You take the invitation out of your clutch to show the attendant and he lets you in.  As soon as you step into the main room, the whispers start but your attention is elsewhere. Suddenly you’re nervous and you aren’t sure if you want to do this. It was a good idea in your head. 
“You look amazing, you’re a badass and you’re not alone.” You hear in your ear, you look up at those comforting cerulean eyes. 
“Thank you.” You take a deep breath, “Alright let’s do this.”
The closer you get to the front the more familiar the faces become. You recognize them before they recognize you. Even though the greeting line is long it’s moving quickly and it seems like you’re the last person, perfect. When you finally get to the front the longing you’ve felt all this time comes back, but those emotions won’t work for you anymore. You had a mission to complete and nothing or no one would get in the way. 
“Y/N?” Surprise flashes in those steel blue eyes you’d dream about almost every night.
“Hi Bucky, congratulations on your engagement.”
Ch. 2
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Series Taglist:@snufflet @impala1967666
Permanent taglist: @kunaikunari @rebekahdawkins @cjand10 @nalny5 @oliviafc15 @sturchling @angywritesstuff
42 notes · View notes
Bucky: Stop doing that.
Y/N: *freezes* Doing what?
Bucky: Saying things that make me want to kiss the hell outta you.
89 notes · View notes
captainsimagines · 2 days ago
dreaming in june || finale
Summary: At the request of an old friend who now happens to be the new Captain America, you move to a place that only vaguely feels peaceful, to secretly protect his best friend. There you meet Bucky Barnes, your next door neighbor, who has also lived countless lives, seen a lot of things, and lost the one he loved. You have more in common than you thought.
Pairing(s): Bucky Barnes x (F) POC Enhanced Reader
Based on the Song(s): Heat Waves by Glass Animals ; Coney Island by Taylor Swift and The National
Series / AO3 / Playlist
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Warnings: angst; strong language
Word Count: 6,680+
Author’s Note: Just you wait... xxMoni
‘I think about him—and I am whole, and I am empty.’
    "I didn't know if you would want to see my face again."
His voice is now a well-rendered reminder of the past. It hits you the same way it hit you all those weeks ago when he showed up unannounced, calling you Princess and sharing the outcome of your people. Who were still deep in the Amazon somewhere—you never asked where—and since you don’t quite feel like a Princess anymore, without a kingdom or a purpose, it just doesn’t feel right to look into the faces of those who came after the people you once knew. The people who sat around you during supper, who stitched your clothing, who grieved the death of both their Princess and Prince. 
You had crawled out of bed this morning, shrugging some old tracksuit on to go into work. Barbara had verbally shared her distaste about how you took a week off work without warning. She complained about how bombarded she was with shipments, files, and transport times. But you had simply ignored her, flashing your middle finger as you walked past, and settled into the routine you’ve been conducting for the past six years. Stamping, googling, filing, unpackaging—until a certain Eternal walked through your office door and spoke.  
“You pissed me off, but I won’t scorn you forever,” you reply, your eyes still on your computer. 
Druig hesitates near the door frame, but he ultimately shuts it behind him. He’s dressed in all black, despite the summer heat outside. 
“I truly am sorry.”
“You said that already.” 
Druig even hesitates with sitting in the chair. As if you’d summon one of your giant, monstrous trees and pin him against his will again. You had never seen Druig so confused and surprised, like the very knowledge that you were a mutant wasn’t enough to fully measure your powerful capabilities. But one pointed glare from you and Druig sits obediently. 
“I don’t blame you for how my life turned out. I doubt knowing about mutants would have changed anything. I probably would have just been more paranoid. But I did deserve to know that my grandmother cursed me and defied the Fates.”
Druig solemnly nods. No matter how many times he apologizes, the sting will always be there. So he doesn’t do it again. Instead he asks,  “How is Samuel?”
“Last I heard he was healing.”
Druig startles, but quickly fixes his face. “You haven’t been to visit him?” The hiss you let out is almost inhuman, and Druig closes his mouth. You haven’t visited because what the fuck would you say?
He took claws for you, and you gave up your heart for him. Literally. You’ve tried to relax, kill every other sound besides the noises your body naturally makes, but it was no use. You couldn’t hear your heartbeat anymore. As if turning mortal wasn’t real. Mortals had beating hearts, and yours was…
“I will visit him when I can. When I am ready.”
Druig slowly nods, eyes wary. If he’s dissecting you, he doesn’t do much to hide it. He studies your eyes, your hair, your lips, your hands, your bouncing foot. As if he too is searching for what is now making you mortal. And similarly, he finds nothing besides flesh and bone. 
This is what Druig was afraid of—there is no trace of evil in your heartlessness, but it is obvious it’s making you empty. Like Ari filled such a great part of your chest that his leaving meant half of you shutting down. 
Is this how Bucky felt when Steve left? That uncomfortable, raw hollowness in the chest that hurt whenever you moved the wrong way? 
“Ari looked just as I remembered him.” And he says it so brokenly, memories in his irises, and guilt combined with the redness of his cheeks.
Your fingers freeze over the keyboard. Forcing yourself to look up at him, you whisper, “Yes. He did.”
“Are you going to be okay?”
Cursed to live half empty and searching for the other piece of your heart? Not likely. But you don’t want to get into the specifics, about how this feeling resembles the one five hundred years ago. That your screams had resembled the ones five hundred years ago. That your path feels as zig-zagged, if not more, than it ever did back then. 
Answering truthfully, you say, “I will be. I’ve had five hundred years to grieve without closure. Perhaps my mourning will be the slightest bit more tolerable this time.”
Perhaps. Slightest bit. Tolerable. All carefully chosen words that held no promises, but were enough. 
Druig leans forward, placing his palm on the desk, face up. You stare at the lines across his flesh, the veins visible through his pale skin, the rings adorning his three center fingers. An invitation. 
You bottle up all your unspoken words, all of your questions, any resentment—and curl your fingers through his. He’s warm, ancient, real. A sliver of home, and not. “If you ever need anything—anything…”
You hold onto him tighter. “Go and keep my people’s descendants safe, Druig.”
The breath he releases is one he’s been holding in since he stepped into your office. One he’s probably been holding since finding out you were still alive. That weight off his shoulders, and the realization that although he fucked up and you don’t forgive him, you still trust him enough to do what he’s been doing for the last five hundred years. After he abandoned his friends, after he crossed that damn river without his Princess and Prince, after risking his life to fight a demon alongside you—you trust him to try. Try and make it up to you. 
He walks slowly to the door, his posture letting you know that he wants to say a million more things. But he shouldn’t. And maybe sometime soon, or whenever you deem fit, he’ll be able to. “I’ll be seeing you, Princess.”
With a half-hearted smile, you nod. “In all the realms."
    Of course Sam senses you outside his apartment door. He’s had that camera rigged with a sensor since he moved in. Well, Bucky rigged it. You purposely set yourself in its eyesight—not quite Redwing—but camera enough. 
Sam didn’t knock on your door this morning when he returned from the compound, and you didn’t bother him. The funeral didn’t count—you hadn’t even spoken to him, or looked at him, when you put Ari in the ground. Sam was standing upright, and that was enough at the time.
Selfish, selfish, but also not. You’re not even taking care of yourself. How can you check on Sam? 
But Sam Wilson is your best friend, and your own sanity isn’t worth more than knowing if he’s okay. 
The door opens, and Sam leans his upper body against the doorframe as he smirks. “There’s my Shortcake.”
Your breath shudders. Just the sight of him, intact, overloads your body with emotion. “Hey, Sam.”
He moves to allow you in. Ducking your chin, you enter. Shielding yourself from him, from the conversation, from the guilt. “It’s been four days,” he says. “Why the visit now?”
The apartment looks the same. Alpine stretches lazily on the couch, knocking the remote to the ground as she does so. There’s a faint scent of bacon in the air, even though it’s late in the evening. Which confuses you, because Bucky is the ‘all-day breakfast’ type of guy, not Sam. 
Then you realize you don’t feel Bucky here at all. 
“Because I spent the first day in bed, and the second staring at the wall. The funeral was yesterday.”
Sam nods, his mouth twisting downward as sympathy floods his face. You look away fast, uncomfortable. 
You’ve lived your whole life avoiding when people casted their emotions so blatantly. Only a select few knew of your true history, and yet you always twisted some of your truths. But the looks of sympathy were always the same. The downward droop of their eyes, their mouths twisting around supportive words, their shoulders crumbling. Sympathy is an emotion that one has to endure and receive, because it’s rude to ignore. And the turn of your head is the smallest act of rudeness you commit. Because that’s allowed of you. It has to be. 
You’re tired of sympathy, even if Sam has the most honorable intentions. 
“You healed fast.” Small talk. Gods, you want to die. The chair creaks as you sit on it. “Are you feeling okay?”
Sam nods and sits at the head of the table. Your knees brush against his, and it takes everything within you not to shatter. 
“Feels like all the other times I’ve been kicked in the stomach and sent flying. I’m lucky it wasn’t worse.”
“It was worse.”
“Yeah, Shortcake. But that’s something we’re not going to talk about again. Traumatizing as it is.”
Fiddling your thumbs, you whimper, “Why the fuck would you step in front of me? I was still Immortal. I could have survived, Sam!”
He huffs loudly, “Easy for you to say! I saw what it did to the vibranium!”
“So? I would have come back! You nearly didn’t!”
“Shortcake.” Sam reaches over to clasp your hands. They look so small as he encases them. “I did what I did. But if it was you who was gutted, then that demon would have sucked up all your blood and dragged you in the portal, right? Am I right?”
“You can’t know that,” you say, shaking your head rapidly. 
“But I can theorize. And I was not. Going. To. Let. That. Happen.”
“It was a stupid fucking call, Captain.”
Sam, through the pain and hollowness in his stomach, tugs you into his chest with extreme force. You tumble into him, smacking your cheek against his breast and tangling your arms. But Sam moves to the floor with you—an anchor as you finally stutter and fall, tears flowing freely. He holds you as you crushes you, and you let him. 
“It’s okay,” he whispers into the top of your head, his hot breath soothing. “You saved me. You. Saved. Me.”
Countless more sobs break free, sounds that had felt extinct these past few days. But you’re able to form them, push them from your lungs and through your throat—you’re still able to cry. 
Grieving is silent, but this—
This was grief given form. You are, and always have been, grief incarnate.
“Don’t you almost die on me again,” you say, and your words are muffled in the fabric of his shirt. But Sam hears, fully expecting it, and mumbles an equally desperate “I won’t, I promise. I promise.”
It feels like eternity as you kneel on the kitchen floor, Sam holding you with everything he has. Sam breaks the silence as he asks, “What broke inside of you?”
You pull away, not meeting his eyes. With a heavy sigh, you translate your pain into words. “It felt like someone clenched their fist around my heart and then tore it through my ribcage. And I was left with this gaping hole that allowed all that cold air in. My teeth hurt, my skin dried, my neck ached.” 
Sam picks you up from the floor, walking the two of you to the couch. Alpine moves to make room. You rub your chin as you continue. “The concept of soulmates was folklore to me until now. I don’t think the rip in the multiverse did anything to this Earth besides open our eyes. Hell, demons, Immortals, vampires, mates?” 
Sam might not know of the word, but he damn well knows what it means to lose someone worth everything and more. 
“It hurt so much five hundred years ago. The exact same way. I lost my mate twice, and I don’t know how I’m still alive.”
How is it possible for a human being to endure so much heartbreak? People have literally died from broken heart syndrome, but what of those that suffer and suffer? Do they burn out? Do they have a limit? How often and for long can a person carry such overbearing misery before their shoulders can take no more? Before their knees give out and the floor cracks beneath them? 
Are some human beings built stronger than others? Because you know for a damn fact that Bucky Barnes is one of those few. Anybody else would have crumbled under Hydra control, and yet, Bucky Barnes survived. And did not lose his soul. 
But the pain he carries is still present, still relevant—Does Bucky have a limit? 
You shouldn’t be alive but because of your grandmother’s wish, you are. If she would have simply let you live, let you have a choice, then you would have died with Ari. The Fates wouldn’t have cursed you. 
“I do,” Sam declares, dipping his head slightly so his eyes meet yours. “I don’t think this world is done with you yet. This world, and all the others. You were sent to me for a reason. You were sent to Bucky for a reason. You are our friend. And after everything that happened with Steve, I didn’t think I knew what that word meant anymore.”
“Steve Rogers was your friend.”
“Yeah, Steve Rogers was my friend. But he was also a jackass. And I understand that he was hurting, and that he wanted out. Maybe he suppressed his pain the only way he knew how, which was to go back to something he knew. I can’t answer for him, but friends don’t leave friends behind.” Sam presses his lips together before he says, “I’d jump in front of you again. I’m gonna hold Bucky’s goddamn hand when he starts having withdrawals. A lot of my friends died or left, and I’m not letting that happen again.”
“When I see a person in trouble, there's this innate feeling inside me. A responsibility. But with you and Buck I know you’ll be there until—”
“Until the end of the line.”
Sam chuckles around a sniff. “Until the end of the line. It doesn’t feel like responsibility. It’s just friendship.”
You embrace him again while Alpine climbs onto your lap for an impromptu nap.
Bucky doesn’t come home that night. Or the next. 
    Peter Parker has decided to take Sam up on his offer and move in with him and Bucky. They purchased the pull-out couch for guests, but a third roommate will work too. Besides, Sam couldn’t turn his back on the kid who quite literally held his guts in his abdomen. 
You helped Peter carry his minimal belongings up the stairs and into the apartment. Peter did his best to keep conversation limited—asking simple yes or no questions, talking about his side jobs, picking what to eat for dinner. You did your best to respond, but forming words was still tiring. Peter didn’t take it personally. In fact, he even gifted you a new plant for your own apartment. Said it was your moving-in present considering three male neighbors were going to be overwhelming for little ol’ you. 
Bucky didn’t return until the weekend. Sam had assured you he was okay and not dead in a ditch somewhere. And when his word wasn’t enough, the Earth let you know. 
He is okay. He does a good thing.
Whatever that meant. 
A soft knock on your door at two in the morning wakes you. Feeling the floor for your slippers, you slide into them and throw a robe around your body. Fuck brushing your hair. 
Your chest constricts when you see him. “Hi.”
Bucky’s lips pull thin, but it’s obvious he’s also affected by the sight of you. “Hey. Is it okay that I’m here?”
A small nod in answer. Bucky points behind you, and you let him in. 
There are dark circles around his eyes and his hair is the slightest bit oily. He shrugs off his sweater and places a plastic bag on your dining table. Hugging your robe closed, you continue studying him head-to-toe until he turns back around. 
“I know there isn’t anything I can say that will make this right, or make you feel better.” A small smile. “But I need to say this, and I need you to listen.”
You blink. There is so much you want to say to him. I’m sorry my heart isn’t yours yet, you had told him in Iceland. Without a pulse, how are you going to offer it to Bucky now?
Bucky interrupts your overthinking with words that make your knees tremble. “I’m not giving up on you. I fell for you and I’m not giving up. And I respect that you most likely will not be ready yet, or ever, or maybe soon—but I will wait. Because Shortcake, you are everything I’ve ever wanted and more. You see me for who I am, who I was, and who I will be. I know how you look in the mornings. I know how you look when you dance, when you brush your hair, when you cook. My heart stops when you wear that beige cardigan. I anticipate you calling me James and that’s about the weirdest thing ever. And whenever you call me Bucky, I feel as though my heart will burst. Your voice is familiar even when I’m drunk out of my mind. Your voice—your question—helped me remember my sister’s name. And when we slept together…” Bucky uses this opportunity to breathe in deeply. “It felt right. My mind was calm, my body relaxed, and I felt safe. Safe.”
A solitary tear runs down your left cheek as Bucky concludes, “You make me feel safe, Shortcake.”
Bucky huffs a short laugh. “Someday I’m going to run out of flowers. Figured I can use that name once in a while.”
Safe. Through superpowers, demons, cults, and death—Bucky Barnes feels safe around you. With you. 
Elijah had felt safe with you until you scorched those slave owners alive. The softness in his eyes had hardened when you didn’t back down. And you accepted that, because it wasn’t going to work between you and him anyway. He deserved better than a mutant with vengeance on her mind. 
Joshua had felt safe with you until you broke his heart in front of those he held dear. You rejected him because it was unfair to tie him to you until he realized you didn’t age. That you never would. And you ran away before hearing him out because he truly, truly, needed to hate you. He wouldn’t have hated you if you told him why, and you couldn’t risk that. 
But now, Bucky Barnes says he feels safe with you. Even after all those near-death experiences, tragic backstory, and week without speaking—Bucky Barnes feels safe with you. Like you left a permanent mark. One that he’s too headstrong to ignore or erase. Your goddamned equal. 
He isn’t going to let you go. Triple the demons, multiply the heartbreak—Bucky Barnes feels safe with you and he isn’t going to let you go. 
“Everything you said—” You step closer, the silk of your robe cozy against your skin. “Ditto.”
Bucky throws his head back and laughter pours out in the most wonderful display you’ve ever witnessed. He roars with it. All crinkles by the eyes, adam’s apple bobbing, smile so wide it breaks your heart. And seeing it, seeing Bucky, you smile for the first time since losing Ari. A genuine smile. 
“Oh,” Bucky starts, reaching into the plastic bag he previously set on the dining table. He pulls—
“You didn’t.”
Bucky chuckles and holds out a greasy, brown paper bag filled with french fries and a separate container of Vicks vapor rub. “You said these help you heal from anything.”
“I did say that.”
“It was good advice.”
You hold the greasy bag and the medicine in both hands, looking down at them with tears in your eyes. This is too…too considerate. 
“And,” Bucky continues, whispering. He pulls the next item from inside his jacket pocket. 
A jewelry box. 
Bucky pops open the lid before your mind could go crazy with ideas. 
What sits in the box wasn’t one of your ideas at all. At all. 
Ari’s bracelet. The bracelet that was trapped behind the glass in Iceland’s museum. The bracelet they said they wouldn’t part with if you claimed Ari’s remains. It was one or the other. 
“Is that…?”
Bucky carefully lifts the jade bracelet from the box and holds it out for you. You set the other items down before holding your wrist out. “Where do you think I’ve been these past two days?”
“You stole it?”
Bucky gives a good-natured roll of his eyes. “Can you technically steal something that was stolen to begin with?” He rolls the bracelet onto your wrist, where it embraces you with Ari’s figurative weight.
“For me…”
“Who else?”
You can’t believe it. You feel like if you blink, it’ll disappear. That this added weight is a figment of your imagination—and it could be considering you’re so impossibly tired. But it’s there even after you blink. And although it’s been touched by several gloved hands, no one would have dared wear it. You press your lips together, willing yourself not to cry the tears that would most likely dry out your cheeks, and blink up at Bucky. 
Bucky whispers, “His love came back to you.”
Bucky releases an oomph sound when you throw yourself on him, arms wrapped around his neck and bearing down. You hold him tightly, trying to mold yourself in the curve of his body. He wraps his arms around your waist, and helps you fit. 
“You committed grand theft and risked a possible diplomatic dispute for me?”
Bucky shrugs the best he can in your tight grip. “It wasn’t that hard. Snuck in at night, incapacitated the security guards, destroyed the tapes, and snatched it. Margot sent me on a private jet so I didn’t have to go through customs.”
Of course she did. Your lip twitches with amusement. “Seriously?”
“Seriously, Shortcake.”
You pull away and cup his face in your hands. That simple touch has Bucky sighing. “I’ll let you know when I’m ready for you, Bucky Barnes.”
Bucky rests his forehead against yours, nudging the tip of his nose with yours. “I’ll be right here.” 
And because it’s been gnawing at him—that question—he risks it. Because he knows you’ll always love Ari until the day you die, as he will Steve. He just wants to be sure you’re in the same boat. 
“Are you always going to love him?”
You brush the pads of your thumbs across his cheekbones. Your bottom lip wobbles as you say, “Yes. Sometimes I think about him in the late nights in the middle of June. When the air is too hot and the water is warm. When I hear the beat of a drum or the sound of a child’s laugh. I think about him even when I’m not thinking about him specifically. I think about his favorite foods and how I haven't eaten them since. I think about him and waterfalls and the heat of the wind when it’s nearing dusk. I think about how I can’t remember if he snored or not. I think about him and I am whole, and I am empty. I miss him.”
Your words bring tears to his eyes. Tears that are grateful and understanding.
“You?” you ask.
Bucky vaguely remembers the little noises Steve would make when his ninety-pound body would stretch first thing in the morning. He remembers the sound of charcoal meeting paper and the belly laughs Steve blessed him with every day. He remembers the look of relief Steve had when Bucky first remembered his mother’s name and when he lucked out on the newspaper-shoe detail. He remembers the giddy attitude Steve had before he returned the stones and the gut wrenching pull he experienced when Steve actually did what he said he was going to do. 
But now that he thinks of it, and it breaks his heart to admit, he can’t remember the feeling of Steve’s hand in his. Was Bucky’s hand bigger, or was Steve’s? Steve had an extra heartbeat when they were kids and Bucky can’t remember the rhythm of it anymore. Did Steve ever draw him? He wants to remember these little things, and he doesn’t know if it’s because he has blocked it out or because of his mashed brains, but Bucky mourns the loss nonetheless. 
Bucky Barnes will always love Steve Rogers. Just as you will always love Ari. Because no one ever lets go of their first love—people don’t have to. They were the first for a reason, whether good or bad. First loves aren’t usually meant to last forever, but it’s damn magical when they do. They burrow deep into your chest, laying their claim, and won’t ever release their grip.
Second loves, however…
Second loves knock on the door to your chest. They peek their head through, glance at the surroundings, and decide to build a home. 
First loves are quick to happen. Second loves take their time. 
Yet, for Bucky, it’s a mute love. One that will never be cherished, reciprocated, experienced, or spoken of, again. But the knowledge that Bucky loved once, and he loved true, allows him the opportunity to love again. 
Love came back to him, a different one, back from the dead.
So he answers truthfully, with that sleepless and numbing pain found in the cracks of his heart, and says, “I will always love him. But I won’t let it control me anymore.”
He believes it, too.
Bucky turns his face to peck small kisses against your left palm. A palm that fits perfectly against his face. A touch of reassurance. As if you’re holding him steady.
Six Months Later   
    Racing home from work, giddy and tripping over the stairs, you nearly rip your door from its hinges and fall in the shower. You washed yourself as quickly as you could, picked your most comfortable and warm outfit for winter in New York, and brushed your teeth twice. 
Six months.
It’s been six months since everything happened, and every day has proven to be a new challenge. Sometimes you’ll wake up screaming, others nights silently. You’ve lost track of how many times Bucky, Sam, and Peter have barged into your apartment to make sure you weren’t being dragged to Hell. And even though it wasn’t literal Hell, it was a Hell nonetheless. 
Ari’s voice, his touch, his love—all of it coaxed you in warmth during your deep sleeps, tricking you into believing you were still underneath your shared tent. Then you would wake, and the grief would slap you with enough force to bruise. 
Suffering through it proved brutal. So you’ve decided to embrace it. Instead of waking up screaming, you try to wake up gradually. During these dreams, you attempt to break through and remind yourself, “This isn’t real. But Ari was. You’ll have tomorrow’s sleep to see him again. Wake.”
Then Bucky’s words follow: I will always love him. But I won’t let it control me anymore. 
Ari loved you back. And you won’t let the pain of his loss control you anymore.
You’ve eaten so many french fries these past few months. It doesn’t matter the hour—Bucky always had a bag in hand. The same treatment worked for his withdrawal episodes. And Sam had done as he promised: On the worst nights, he holds Bucky’s hand as Bucky spills his guts into the toilet while you wipe the sweat from his forehead. 
Besides the bouts of rough awakenings, these past few months have been calming. No aliens, no more demons, no surprise cults. Just the normal things: Peter applying to college, Sam visiting his sister and nephews more often, Bucky visiting you at the library to help with the big shipments. 
And just last week, when you were lounging on the couch in your apartment, Bucky seated on the floor between your knees, you had felt it. Some gentle tug, a string of warmth connecting you to the moment. As weird as it was, you looked away from the television and ran your hand through Bucky’s longer hair and said, “I think I’m ready.”
Bucky had stilled—Winter Soldier still—then he looked over his shoulder, warily. 
“You’re certain?”
You nodded. “Let’s go old-fashioned, James. Pick me up and let’s grab a cup of coffee.”
Bucky had controlled his breathing, all of his training coming to the surface. Instead of jumping up like an excited teenager, he had simply nodded and pressed his lips together. 
“Am I allowed to bring you flowers?”
You had smiled, cheeks heating. “As many as you’d like.”
Everything had to be perfect. And when you finished rolling Ari’s bracelet on your wrist the second a soft knock sounded on your door, you knew it would be. 
Patting your cheeks in the mirror, you smile and nod once. You’re ready, and so goddamn excited. 
Bucky holds a bouquet of lilies, a sheepish grin spreading even wider as he takes in your appearance. His hair has grown longer these last six months, reaching his chin and curling at the tips. It frames his face so nicely that it nearly makes you swoon off your feet. 
“You ready for breakfast at seven in the evening?”
Biting your lip and smiling wide, you grab the flowers from him. Bucky waits for you to grab your purse, put the lilies in their water vase, and lock your apartment door. 
“I still can’t believe you want to eat at a fucking Denny’s for our first date.”
You shrug, giggling. “It’s simple, crowded, and different. I figured we’d keep it true to ourselves.”
Bucky laughs, but is interrupted by Sam and Peter pulling open their apartment door with Peter exclaiming, “Don’t be so loud like you were all those months ago when you guys return, alright?”
“Aren’t you heading out tonight?” you throw back at Peter. He sticks his tongue out, proving you right.
Mouth agape, you smack the air as if you're swatting his shoulder. Sam ignores the quip and says, “Buck, you sharing your location?”
Bucky groans, “Yes, Samuel. I’m sharing my location and I promise we won’t make any detours.”
Sam hums, unconvinced until he double-checks his phone. “Still. You two be careful, alright?”
A ball of delight ignites in the pit of your stomach. “I’ll protect him, Sam.” Bucky scoffs and pushes you forward, ignoring your giggling as he sticks his tongue out at Sam over his shoulder. 
The atmosphere between you four is as comfortable as ever. Sam is still his overprotective self, Peter still likes to be in everybody’s business, Bucky is still his awkward self, and you’re still along for the ride. You haven't heard anything from Druig all these months��he really is keeping his side of the bargain: the unspoken decision that if you needed him, if you wanted to speak, you would be the one to seek him out.
At least he’s honoring that. 
And Maxwell, the fucker, is nowhere to be found. Not a lick of a sarcastic drop-by or even evidence that he survived his trip to Hell. You figure he did considering nothing catastrophic happened afterward.
Everything, even the walk to the restaurant around the corner, is calm. 
“Did you hear that?” Bucky asks as you’re walking through the glass doors he has held open. 
You pause and look at him funny. “Hear what?”
Bucky looks past you, then to the ground. 
“Bucky, what?”
He chuckles, “You’re too easy.”
Snorting, you check his shoulder on the way in. 
There is no wait. Sam, funnily enough, called ahead to reserve you a table in the back. He pulled rank and reserved you a table. At a fucking Denny’s. 
Bucky grumbles, “Remind me to pummel him later.”
“Offended he thought ahead?”
“It’s my date. I’m the guy. He just made me look bad.”
You giggle, “Never, James. Pay for the meal and you’ll be back to my number one spot.”
“Oh, so I’m number two currently?”
You smirk as you settle into the booth, Bucky directly across. “Let’s see how this date goes, James.”
Bucky, as much as tries to deter it, shudders from your tone. Because the last time he heard you speak this way, you were halfway across the world in Iceland. The one and only time you two shared a bed. Hearing it now curls something at the base of his spine.
He’s had nothing but his hands since—on him, inside him. His thoughts are always—always—of you. And in the mornings, he shies away for a few minutes as the thoughts creep back. He feels guilty, but he wonders if you also indulge in some alone time. That gets him going again. 
He’s not expecting to get lucky tonight. So he knows damn well he’ll be enjoying his hands. 
The restaurant is crowded, but not to the point where Bucky feels smothered.  “So,” he starts, casual as ever as he opens his menu and pretends to read it. “Where did you grow up?”
You burst out laughing, the sound so loud that the tables beside you flinch. Bucky allows you to ride it out—waiting a whole minute before you finally settle. 
“Sorry,” you pant, flipping open your menu absentmindedly. 
“Too personal?”
You roll your eyes humorously. “At least you didn’t ask about my age.”
It’s Bucky’s turn to cackle. “Ditto.”
The calm before a storm should be familiar by now.
Before you could sip from your seven o’clock coffee, the floor beneath you shakes. Your eyes meet Bucky’s, and before either of you can draw a weapon, a bright flash of orange light blinds you and half the restaurant. People duck beneath their tables, waitresses cower in tight corners, Bucky lunges from his seat to stand in front of you—by the time the portal completely opens, you and Bucky are the only ones standing near. 
A head of curly black hair peeks out first, then the most beautiful green eyes lock with yours.
Half-lies. Maxwell is possibly one of the most beautiful men you’ve ever seen.
“Glad to know you aren’t dead!” you call from behind Bucky’s shoulder, giving Maxwell an incredulous glare. 
Maxwell smirks, but it feels forced. Not at all the confident cult leader who held you against your will and performed a 360 to capture a demon. His palms open and close. His clothes are…different—medieval?
“I would have called, but…”
Bucky blinks, mouth open as he stares at the flaming portal behind Maxwell. “What the fuck are you doing here?”
If Maxwell’s offended by Bucky’s tone, he doesn’t show it. He glances around the restaurant and at all the terrified faces like he’s weighing whether to speak so openly. But he concedes, his tongue unable to restrict the words. 
“When you gave up your Immortality, there were consequences.”
No, no, no. You’re tired. So, fucking tired. You and Bucky were finally ready. You were ready, and this cannot be happening—
“No one has ever defied the Fates. You changed your fate—Ari changed your fate. They weren’t expecting him or your bond.” Maxwell gulps. “They’ve never had a healthy relationship with Hades and this was the last straw.”
“So you decided to open the Portal to Hell in the middle of a fucking Denny’s?”
A few customers try and fail to hide their gasps, some even cowering farther into their booths. If you hadn’t encountered such horribleness this past year, your whole life, then you guess you’d probably react the same way.
“It would have appeared regardless of where you were. And besides. I was summoned—by Hades himself.”
Now the gasps are clearly audible. 
“What does he want? What could the God of the Underworld possibly want?” Bucky demands. It’s fleeting, but you catch Bucky’s metal hand punch Sam’s contact for a phone call. It wouldn’t be much of a run from around the corner, but part of you prays Sam doesn’t make it. 
If Hades is going to retaliate—if he’s going to step out of that damn portal—you pray Sam isn’t here when he does. 
Maxwell groans, shutting his eyes for a long while before forcing them open again. The portal flickers, the darkness within giving a few short bursts of rainbow coloring. 
“Hades cannot replace the Fates unless they die. But they’ve escaped. And because it was your twist of fate that caused it…” Maxwell rolls his neck, sweat dripping from his perfect eyebrows. “Hades summons you to Hell.”
The place you had banished that demon. The place your grandmother supposedly had some otherworldly connection to. The place standing behind Maxwell, pulsing with such strange energy it’s making you dizzy. 
“Fuck that,” Bucky says, giving a forced laugh. “Tell him he’ll have to find someone else. The Fates, whatever the fuck they are, are his problem. We don’t want anything to do with you again.”
Maxwell’s face contorts painfully. Slowly, he grinds out, “I wish you had a choice.”
The restaurant doors fly open as Sam Wilson, Captain America, runs in. Minus his Captain America gear, that is. He’s even forgotten the shield. Sam Wilson came to fight with his fists. Your eyes meet his, and no matter how much pleading you try to emit, he does not yield.
“It’s their first date, man. C’mon.” Sam holds up his arms between you and Maxwell, effectively shielding you from Maxwell’s line of sight. Or the portal’s. You can’t really tell.
The portal rumbles with a disgusting groan. Maxwell mutters something along the lines of ‘the one time I don’t leave Hell willingly.’
The chairs and tables in front of you are pushed to the side by some invisible force. Customers scream, some even rushing for the exit in a stampede. Maxwell steps into the portal, hesitating with the other foot.
A harsh gust of air spits in your face—then wraps around your waist, your shoulders, your legs—and drags you toward the dark mouth of Hell. 
No. Not just you. Bucky and Sam, too. 
Sam grabs onto the door handle, but the lack of gravity simply lifts him up. He dangles in the air, even as Bucky rushes to lower his legs. The trees from the sidewalk planters smash through the windows and wrap around your waist, pulling you back toward them. 
You turn to Maxwell, demanding a better explanation with your stare, but he gives nothing. In fact, he just stares back with pity. Pity that makes your stomach churn. 
The door handle snaps, and both Sam and Bucky are thrown across the floor and to the portal. The branches scramble to catch their wrists, but they miss Sam altogether. His palms smack against the floor, swiping without purchase, until the portal completely swallows him. Bucky yells, his metal fingers clawing at the floor in deep gashes. He barely catches your hand, his last rope to this realm. 
But the portal is too strong. Stronger than anything you’ve ever encountered. The full wrath of an Immortal God. Their influence, their thread, their power. 
Knowing full well you aren’t going to make it, you whip your head around to the customers who stayed—either from curiosity, morbidity, or because their insides watered—and scream, “Peter Parker! Tell him Hell has us. Peter Parker, Peter Parker, Peter Parker!”
Bucky uses his last remaining drop of strength to safely wrap you against his chest, shielding your head. The branches snap.
The portal closes. 
Darkness lives.
     She knows she should have left. Should have pushed people out of the way and scrambled onto the streets, sprinting to maximize the distance between her and that supposed portal to literal Hell. She should have done a lot of things—but ultimately, she’s glad she stayed. 
Peter Parker! Tell him Hell has us! Peter Parker, Peter Parker, Peter Parker!
She knows that name. It may have only been a name she learned in passing, a face that only came around every other month or so, buying random pastries and coffee like all he wanted to do with strike up conversation with her. 
What are the odds it’s the same guy she’s come to anticipate?
She knows that name. 
Michelle Jones knows that name. 
She’s really glad she stayed.
This story is for those who have loved too much and broken themselves because of it.
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Author’s Note: 
The sequel, “Hunting The Fates” will start in July! It will have much more smut (like...a shit ton tbh), swordfighting, and inaccurate Greek Mythology lmao. 
Thank you for taking this healing journey with me. I hope I did the characters some justice. xxMoni
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