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#bucky x dot
angstysebfan · 10 months
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Just Friends - Part 1
Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Female Reader Summary: This is a 2-parter. You've been just friends with Bucky since you first joined the Avengers, but is there more? You both deny it. What happens with Bucky gets a girlfriend, who may not like your relationship? Warnings: Angst, jealousy, asshole girlfriends, cursing
A/N: I hope I made this even better than it was before. It’s a 2-parter. Part 2 will hopefully be out tomorrow. None of my stories are edited or beta’d. If you want to be a part of my taglist, please request. My old taglist no longer is active.
When you first joined the Avengers, you instantaneously felt comfortable with everyone, but there was one person that you clicked with more than the others. Bucky Barnes. He was shy for maybe a day before realizing how much you both have in common. He became your person and you became his, platonically of course. Sometimes you wonder if there is more, but you don't dwell on it much. You're happy being exactly what you are to each other. Like right now, you're sitting on the couch watching TV, your feet on Bucky’s lap, with him massaging your calves. You both sit and watch Ace Ventura, because you both love comedy and Jim Carey is king. When the movie was finally over, you look over at Bucky and give him a smile.
“So what do you want to do now?” you ask, nudging your foot into his hard abdomen.
He squeezes your foot and tickles the bottom of it, making you giggle and pull your foot toward you. He chuckles and grabs you foot back to put in on his lap, continuing his massage.
“We could take a nap,” he said with raised eyebrows.
You smile and nod at him excitedly. “Your room or mine?” you ask.
He stands up, letting your feet drop, he turns and reaches for your hands. He pulls you off the couch and leads you toward his room, stilling holding onto your one hand.
You close the door behind you and climb into the bed with Bucky, and snuggle into his open arms. You feel a kiss on the top of your head and nuzzle your nose into his chest. It didn’t take you long to fall asleep with the sound of his steady heartbeat and the warmth of his arms. This is probably your favorite place.
When you wake up, a few hours later, you realize you're alone in his room. You decide to look for him and head back toward the common room and hear Sam, Steve and Bucky talking.
“It’s not a big deal guys. Y/N is my best friend… besides you,” you guess Bucky points at Steve when he says this last part.
“I don’t know man, you guys act like you’re dating,” Sam says.
“Are you sure you don’t have feelings for her?” you hear Steve ask.
Your heart starts pounding in your chest. Now you've been asked the same question by Nat and Wanda, and you always stated you were both just friends, but again you wonder if it's really true. And while you assume you know his answer, you kinda hope he says that he does have feelings, then you won't feel stupid for your "feelings".
“We're just friends,” he says with confidence.
You can’t help the slight disappointment, but shake it off because of course your just friends. You were perfectly okay with just being friends with Bucky, and you didn’t care that the rest of the team didn’t get it.
“Guys, trust me. I will NEVER see Y/N like that. She's far from my type. Plus, I already started talking to a girl, who's so amazing,” Bucky says.
You can’t help but gasp at that statement, and have tears coming down your cheeks. While you understand he may only like you as a friend, to hear that you'll never be his type hurts you more than you care to admit. Then to hear that he has been talking to someone else send another stab into your heart. Maybe you do have stronger feelings for Bucky than you realized, and maybe you need to deal with those feelings and quickly since they will never be reciprocated.
The next day you were in the the gym lifting weights, when Bucky came strolling in. He was on the phone, and you couldn’t help but notice the wide smile he had on. When he hung up the phone, he made a B-line to you. You take a deep breath and get into the correct head space.
“Hello my Bella. Haven’t seen you since our nap yesterday. Everything okay?” He asks. You continue with your exercise and give him a small smile. “Yup.” He looks at you, waiting for more of an answer. When you don’t elaborate, he can’t help but feel nervous, but quickly shakes it away.
“Hey, you busy later? I kinda have someone I want you to meet.” He asks. You look into his eyes, prepared to blow him off, but you see the hope in them. “Um… yea sure.” you say quietly. He smiles and walks toward the punching bag to begin his own workout.
After you both finish your workouts, and shower, he knocks on your door. “Hey Belle, you ready?” he asks when you open the door. “Uh, yeah. Let’s go.” You walk out of the room, and Bucky immediately wraps his flesh arm around your shoulders, as he leads you to the elevator.
Once you left the compound, you both walk to the pizza place about a 20 minute walk since the compound property is so big. Bucky has his arm around you the entire time, and eventually you wrap yours around his waist and relax. So what you're going to meet a girl he is talking to. Talking to someone is nothing, and maybe it won't even work out.  You both enter the pizza place, and Bucky leads you toward a red head sitting in the booth in the back. Bucky had immediately released you when you entered, but grabbed your hand as he lead you walked to the booth.
The red head smiles at Bucky, but her smile slips slightly as her eyes asses you and your joined hands. You can’t help the blush of anxiety in your cheeks. Bucky releases your hand, when the red head gets out of the booth and tightly embraces her.
“Hey, Dot. You been waiting long?” he asks.
She shakes her head ‘no’ into his chest as her hands caress the hairs on the back of his neck. When they pull apart, she holds his head and pulls him into a kiss. Your breath hitches and you try to look somewhere else, wanting nothing more than to cry and possibly vomit. Bucky pulls away from Dot and turns to look at you with an embarrassed smile. You see the blush in his cheeks, but you try to act nonchalant, and you hope you succeed. Bucky takes your hand and pulls you next to him.
“Dot, this is Y/N. She's my best friend. Y/N, this is Dot. My girlfriend,” he says looking between the two of you with a proud smile.
Your eyes snap up to Bucky’s in surprise. Girlfriend?! You thought he was just talking but they are actually dating? What. The. Fuck! You put your spy talents to use and pretend to be somewhat happy.
“Dot, it's nice to meet you,” you say as you extend your hand to shake hers.
Dot looks at you with a fake smile. “I’m sure,” she says as she grabs your hand.
You are taken aback by this, but squeeze her hand as hard as you can. You see her wince, and just grin at her. Bucky looks happy and motions for the three of you to sit in the booth. He sits next to Dot, and they hold hands and Bucky caressing hers with his thumb. Throughout the whole lunch Dot kept leaning into Bucky and constantly touched him. You get more aggravated each time she touches him, knowing she was staking her claim on him in front of you. She obviously found you and your relationship with Bucky threatening. She also talks to him in a squeaky babylike voice, that runs right through you. You try your best to act the part of the best friend, but your heart is completely broken. No wonder he'll never look at you like that. This is obviously the type of girl he is interested in, and you will never be this type of girl. Thank god.
When you're done, you walk outside of the restaurant, turn and look at Dot.
“It was nice to meet you,” you say with a fake but polite smile.
She gives you a knowing smirk, “You too, uh… I’m sorry what was your name again?” she says.
Your polite smile falls and scowl forms. “Y/N,” you say flatly.
“Right, Y/N.”
You look at Bucky, “You ready to go?” you say.
Bucky looks weird and is avoiding you eyes, “Um, actually I’m going to go to Dot’s for the night,” he says quietly.
You're fucking pissed because you walked here, which means you now have to walk back, alone. It’s now basically dark, and you are in nowhere upstate New York. You stare at Bucky in disbelief and then at Dot, who has a smug grin on her face as she wraps her arms around Bucky, pulling him in the direction of her car.
“Oh, great. Well… uh.. have fun,” you say quickly but making sure he knew you were pissed.
You turn around and start walking back toward the compound feeling utterly defeated and pissed. You hear Bucky call your name asking you to wait a moment, but you just keep walking, tears running down your face. You feel your phone vibrating, knowing he was calling you, but again you ignore it. You walk up to the border of the compound property and stop and take a breath. You wanted to calm down before you went in. You look at your phone and see Bucky texted you.
I’m so sorry, Bells. I know should've told you.
Don't hate me.
Please let me know when you get back.
You decide to ignore him, he didn’t deserve to know you were back. You take another deep breath and walk up the walkway toward the building. You take the elevator to your floor and go straight to your room. You decide to shower and get ready for bed.
You lay there, wondering what will happen tomorrow when Bucky comes back. Suddenly your phone vibrates again. Its Bucky:
We really need to talk, tomorrow.
You wake up the next day and look at your phone. It was already 11:30. You quickly get up and change before heading down to the gym. You're half way through your run on the treadmill when Bucky walks in not looking like his normal happy self around you. He looks over at you, coldly and walks over. He then starts to look uncomfortable when he stops in front of you, and won’t meet your eyes.
“Hey,” you say.
He just nods. “Y/N, can you stop for a second, I need to talk to you,” he says, still avoiding your eyes.
You bring the treadmill to a stop and step down feeling confused by his demeanor.
“What’s going on?” you ask cautiously.
Bucky now looks at you, but his stare is hard and cold. You feel the air leave your lungs as you feel the anger starting to radiate off of him.
“Our friendship is over, Y/N,” he says, like it is nothing.
You feel the tears start to build. “What? Why? Buck… is this because I wouldn’t answer you last night? I.. I was upset because you didn’t give me the heads up about anything. I mean you didn't warn me I would be meeting your girlfriend, and then when introduce me to Dot, she made it pretty damn obvious she didn’t like me. Then to top it all off you made me walk home alone. I had a right to be pissed, but now you're ending the friendship?”
Bucky glares at you. “You made Dot feel very uncomfortable yesterday. She told me that you squeezed her hand too tight and would constantly make her feel like you were looking down on her. You were supposed to be my friend, and support me in my first relationship. Dot doesn’t like how close I am with you, and I want this relationship with her to work, because I think she could be the one for me. So I’m sorry, we need to end our friendship and keep our distance from each other.”
Tears are falling from your eyes, but you can’t help but get angry. “Are you fucking kidding me, James? I made her uncomfortable? She was assessing me from the moment we walked in the damn restaurant! I mean did you hear what she said when you introduced us? Or how about when I was leaving, she didn't even remember my name. But of course you don't give a shit about that, huh? So obviously our friendship has meant absolutely nothing to you this whole time! So fine, consider our friendship over, and stay the hell away from me. Goodbye Bucky.”
You push him out of the way and run out of the gym. Bucky’s heart is in his throat. He honestly doesn’t know what to do because when he spoke to Dot last night, she made it seem like you made her uncomfortable. He does want to try with Dot, because he knows he could never be with... you. Now he's lost you for good, which he thought would help him get over his feelings for you, but seeing your face broken by his words killed him in a way he never felt before.
He feels like he just made the worst mistake in his whole life.
--
Part 2
Oh Bucky you done fucked up man. Dot can go all the way to hell, and Bucky you might be joining her dude. Feedback is appreciated.
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astxrwar · 3 months
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blunt force trauma [1/x]
SYNOPSIS: traumatized!Bucky x Brainwashed!supersoldier!reader.
Rating: M
Word Count: 5k
Content Warnings: Canon-typical violence and that is all (for now). Check out the tag "fic; blunt force trauma" for Content + ao3 chapter notes for extras if you're interested. <3
Read on AO3
[ 1 ] [2]
Bucky had known, is the thing. Before getting sucker-punched out of a fucking moving semi truck, before getting his ass kicked in a spectacularly fucking embarrassing fashion, before getting saved by two dipshits with government-financed uniforms and the most ridiculous fucking make-believe superhero names—
He had known that there were others like him.
Super-soldiers. Enhanced. Whatever.
Well—
He’d known about one.
~
The first time he sees her it’s March, nighttime, cold and dark and fucking raining, for like the fourth day in a row. He’s gone outside to take the garbage out, the last in a mundane and seemingly fucking endless procession of normal-human-being tasks that he is trying very hard to be comfortable in doing, day after day, the way he is also trying hard to be a normal human being in general, a concrete and intact person who attends his court-ordered therapy and grocery shops and goes outside semi-regularly and does not commit violence even when it definitely feels warranted.
He’s tired. He has a headache starting somewhere around his left temple, the muscles there beginning to tense and tighten and pulse, irritatingly, against his skull. He wants a fucking cigarette, and he’s going to have a cigarette— he keeps meaning to quit, because it’s really not a  great habit, even if he’s pretty sure the serum will keep him from getting, like, lung cancer, or something. He’d been a pack-a-day asshole in the 107th because they were free, and he’d stopped when he was him because he didn’t have wants or needs or desires as a soulless killing machine, so part of it is probably just— the way that it feels grounding, kind of, the acrid burn of the smoke and the bitter taste of tar and the gently flickering embers of the cherry this bright spot of red and orange against the endless black backdrop of the alleyway at night. It’s very human. Very selfish. Very not like the person he used to be.
He doesn’t see the figure standing there until the cigarette is already half-gone, presumably because they’d been mostly obscured from him by the massive industrial-size apartment complex dumpsters and also, more importantly, because they hadn’t moved at all in the entire time he’d been outside. And it’s something about that, the unnerving and inhuman stillness, something about the way that they’re holding themselves, the vicious and barely-restrained and entirely recognizable tension he can see— feel— even just in their silhouette, the way that they’re standing, it reminds him of—
Something.
Bucky can tell when the figure realizes he’s seen them; there’s this shift in the dark line of their shoulders, like an intake of breath.
He flicks his cigarette, scattering ash down onto the pavement, the flakes drifting in the puddles of dirt and oil and city grime, becoming waterlogged, sinking in until he can’t see them. 
They— she— she says his name. Her voice is quiet and hoarse and crackles like she hasn’t spoken in a while and like it had taken some amount of effort to do so now, and she says his full, legal, god-given name, like she knows him.
“How do you know who I am,” Bucky says, flat, a question, but not really phrased like one. He grinds the end of his cigarette against the brick side of the building until the ember is out, and tosses it into the open dumpster; he’s aware of her in his periphery, that instinctive part of him that he mostly tries not to think about tracking her presence and waiting for movement and anticipating, calculating, flexing the fingers of the metal arm at his sides and breathing in deep and slow and relishing in all of it a lot more than he knows he should be.
She doesn’t reply. He can’t make out her face, not with how dark it is, with where she’s standing, deep enough into the alleyway that none of the light from the buzzing and flickering street lamp closer to his end reaches her at all; there’s still something about the way that she’s holding herself that prickles with familiarity, recognition, but he can’t place it. He’s positive she’s not government or military, reasonably certain she’s not Dora Milaje, less sure she’s not some kind of HYDRA offshoot minion or some other kind of general bad news. 
“Are you going to try to kill me?” he says finally.
Her breath catches, like she’d choked on it, and it’s audible even over the muted sounds of TVs playing and casual conversation and arguing floating down from the scattered collection of open windows above the alley, even over the louder and more persistent dripdripdrip of water down from the gutters, the sounds of traffic that never fully relents drifting out from the road.
“No,” she says, with enough vehemence that it stuns him, for a second– he’s taken aback by the force of the word, and then also, a second later, by how absolutely uncertain she sounds. Like she doesn’t believe it herself, or maybe more like she really doesn’t know.
“Okay,” Bucky says slowly, after a pause. “Okay, so what do you—“
He makes a mistake, then— he turns, the sole of his boot grinding softly against the wet, dirt-streaked asphalt, and he takes all of an aborted half-step in her direction.
She stiffens.
Bucky trails off, his fingers curling into loose fists at his sides–
She flees.
He hadn’t been expecting that, fucking obviously, so he wastes an essential handful of seconds just processing what the fuck even just happened. By the time it occurs to him that she’d ran, by the time he moves to the other end of the alley and rounds the corner and stares out into the adjoining street, there’s just—
Nothing. Nobody. An empty stretch of pavement. She could have followed the road down past his field of vision, the line of it blurred in the distance by the gently misting rain; she could have gone down any number of nearby alleys, could have climbed a fire escape onto the roof. If he’d been expecting it, he could have followed fast enough to see, but—
He hadn’t. 
He’d honestly expected her to fucking attack him, not— run. 
“Fuck,” Bucky says aloud, to nobody. 
He turns back to his apartment building, kicks a rock and watches it skitter across the glittering wet pavement and into the shadows.
He lights another cigarette.
~
He’s wired and on edge for hours afterwards, meaning he doesn’t sleep well. That thing inside of him is itching for it, a fight, an excuse, something to break the painful fucking monotony of his life these days; his therapist keeps saying that he’ll get used to this, the boredom of normalcy, and while he nods and plays along during the sessions, he’s not sure that’s even the issue.
He is used to it. He has a routine. He cooks and cleans and does general life maintenance on a strict and unwavering schedule. He even goes out once a week, goes and gets sushi and drinks with Yori, and even if that might technically not count as a friendship, it’s– something. He has a life. A normal, boring, regular, semi-adjusted life.
He just– 
He just doesn’t fucking like it.
It sucks, right, because back in Bucharest he remembers wanting this so fucking badly, wanting to just be normal, to be able to go grocery shopping and cook meals and listen to the radio and do nothing. Be nobody. And now that he has it, for real, forever, it’s like his stupid fucking brain has decided nope, y’know what, I don’t really want this after all.
What he wants, honestly, is another cause to throw himself into. Another banner to follow blind. Something that would let him relieve some of this constant fucking pressure, this itch just under his skin, this feeling like he’s forcing down and holding back and choking on all the worst parts of who he is, with no outlets to turn to, no options, no hope for relief.
I don’t do that anymore, is what he says to people, the pre-programmed line another term for the conditions of his parole. 
What he doesn’t say to anyone: I kind of miss it a fucking lot, though. 
Bucky stares up at the slowly-turning blades of his ceiling fan until his vision goes blurry and it turns into this meaningless shifting shape in the dark, and then he closes them, finally, and tries to will himself to sleep.
He should tell his therapist.
There’s a lot of things he should tell his therapist. I have nightmares, still. I probably qualify as paranoid. I made friends with the father of one of the men that I killed, and I go out to eat with him every week, and I think I feel just as bad about doing it as I would if I didn’t. I still haven’t figured out how to work that TV in the apartment, even though I said that I did, and I don’t even really know why I lied. I miss hurting people. I can’t sleep. 
“How have you been, James,” she says, peering at him across a cheap-looking wooden table, her pen poised threateningly– okay, not threateningly, but, like, still, threateningly – over a blank notebook page. The chair he’s sitting in is straight-backed and uncomfortable and slightly too small, and he wonders if that’s on purpose. “Anything new happening?”
She always asks this, in the beginning, like an ice-breaker, or something, except it feels like the opposite. It always feels–stiff, and perfunctory, and performative. That’s another thing– before all this, he used to be great at shooting the shit, talking about weather and sports and who’s seeing who and all that meaningless, petty nothing; he missed it, too, when he first started coming out of the fucking fugue state. And then it’s like– all those disassociated and splintered pieces of himself reintegrated, fused, solidified into something vaguely resembling a whole person, and he found that actually, he couldn’t stand any of it, anymore.
“Nope,” he says, popping the ‘p’ and leaning back in the chair until it creaks, dangerously, like it might break. Fucking government office, you’d think they could afford decent and non-flimsy furniture. Doc glares at him like he’s full of shit and he makes a point to dial back the affected nonchalance, gauging her response to try to figure out the range of what might strike her as believable. “Nothing. Same old, same old. You know.”
Someone found me, yesterday. They knew me. 
She narrows her eyes. Scribbles something down. The scratch of the pen on paper sets his teeth on edge, makes a muscle in his jaw twitch, erratic and uncontrollable. He forces himself to stay very still, not to lean over, not to try to look. Forces himself to smile.
Wonders, vaguely, if it even looks like he’s smiling, or if it just looks like he’s baring his teeth.
~
Days pass. Then weeks. A whole month.
At first, Bucky maintains that alertness; his senses sharpen, expectant, the handful of times he ventures out to toss the garbage or have a cigarette at night, and he sleeps in short, fitful bursts, waking with a start at the sound of cars backfiring on the street outside or the building settling as the temperature drops or the radiator when it creaks, just a little louder than usual, as the heat kicks on. He doesn’t mind any of this, actually, and that’s another thing he knows he should probably tell his therapist.
Hey, Doc, I’m kinda thinking somebody wants to murder me, so I’ve started keeping a knife under my pillow again, and I’ve really only been sleeping for like, an hour or two at a time. 
Weird thing, though– I feel better than I have in weeks, and I haven’t had any nightmares.
He does not tell his therapist, for a lot of reasons. Part of that is because he guesses she’d want to have the military deal with it, whatever it even is, which is just–absolutely not necessary. He’s a grown man, a fucking ex-assassin, for god’s sake, he can handle his own shit; but then there’s also the fact that she doesn’t even really know he’s still having nightmares. She suspects, he’s pretty sure, but he’d started denying it the fourth or fifth appointment in, got tired of her saying stupid shit like let’s do an exercise; I want you to describe it to me and talking about it will help, James, and you should try establishing a relaxing bedtime routine. 
Planning contingencies in case he’s attacked in his sleep, he’s pretty sure, does not count as a relaxing bedtime routine, but even still. Whatever works, right?
And it does work, for the first week, and then the second week, and then some of the third week, too, but eventually that pervasive vigilance starts to wane in the absence of any actual threat, and there’s nothing he can do to maintain it– it’s instinctive, that response, and while he can force himself to go through the motions, the checking and the watching and the knives stashed in places, he can’t bring that feeling back.
She’s never there. He looks, at night, lingers for a while and paces aimlessly after he’s tossed in the trash and his cigarette has gone out, sometimes even lights a second one and stays out even longer, leaned back against the brick and waiting, still, silent, like maybe if he goes long enough without moving at all she’d just reappear out of thin air, like a magic trick.
That doesn’t happen, because of course it doesn’t.
Eventually he starts to run short on the drive for that, too. Humans, it’s just how they are– get nothing for long enough and they’ll start to lose interest in trying. Bucky used to be above those kinds of things, or beyond them, or something like that; he could maintain single-minded focus on something for months, years, when it was necessary. 
Bucky misses that, too, sometimes. But he’s human now, or some approximation of it, and so eventually he stops looking so hard. Just glances over at the spot where she’d been standing, tosses the trash in, finishes his cigarette, heads back inside. He sometimes tries to find her in the daytime, in the people he passes on the street, in the dark figures at the bar when he goes out with Yori, cataloging the stature and posture and the shapes of strangers, the way a girl holds her shoulders in line at the grocery store or how the bartender will sometimes stay leaned against the counter for a long while, perfectly still.
But he never sees her. Not once. He’d know, he thinks, if he did; he might not have seen her face, or really anything beyond her silhouette, but there was something eerily familiar and immediately distinctive about the way that she held herself, how she stood, how she moved. The pieces of that he sees reflected in other people are never enough to trigger that same automatic, visceral feeling of recognition.
That vigilance– it just keeps fading. 
He starts to sleep in larger and larger chunks, unbroken, and the nightmares come back.
~
“How are you doing, James?”
“I’m doing good, Doc, how about you.” He doesn’t phrase it as a question. He’s tired and his jaw hurts and his teeth feel weird in his mouth, loose and sore and wrong– he’s probably been grinding them in his sleep again. The thought aggravates him, the idea that his body does things now that he can’t control.
“Bullshit,” she says, and he tightens his grip on the armrest of the chair, a reflex, until he can feel the wood give a little under his fingers, like it might splinter into pieces in his hand. 
“Yeah, y’know what, I have a headache,” he says, mulish and stubborn and not in the fucking mood.
Doc just stares at him, lets the silence stretch and stretch and stretch– in the beginning, when she would do this shit, he’d just stare right back and say nothing for the entire forty-five minutes. Learned real quickly that just makes things worse, because she started making him come in twice a week. He’s down to twice a month, now, and would really like to keep it that way–ideally would like to make it less, even, if possible. 
Bucky sighs and he shifts in the chair and he runs his tongue over his teeth and gives up on attempting to tamp down the irritation that he knows he wasn’t doing all that great a job at disguising to begin with. He thinks about what to say, and it’s like threading a needle, kind of, trying to find that sweet spot, something that sounds like honesty without feeling like he’s being fucking– violated.
He ends up telling her about how he’d went and made a nighttime routine and that’d stopped the nightmares. He does not tell her that the routine involved checking the locks on all the windows and scuffing the hinges on the door enough to make sure it would creak if anybody opened it more than halfway, taping knives under the end table in the living room and on the inside of the door to the coat closet in the hall.
She looks– suspicious. Uncertain. Like she doesn’t trust him, but isn’t quite decided on whether or not he’s lying.
Bucky smiles, again. 
She relaxes, just a little.
He’s been practicing– how to do it and make sure it reaches his eyes.
~
It’s that same night that it happens again. He’s tired and still irritated and his jaw hurts, this tense, throbbing pain that comes and goes in waves and just pisses him off more, and he’s thinking about how much he fucking hates therapy and how ridiculous it is that anyone in the world would pay money for that, to be examined like a bug under a microscope, vivisected and picked apart until there’s nothing left. 
All it’s doing is making him a more convincing liar, he thinks, bitter and sour and mean.
Bucky stops in the alleyway to have a cigarette before going inside, because he’s pissy and wants one. He does that cursory once-over of the spot behind the dumpster and there’s nothing, which is expected, and so he leans back against the soot-stained brick and shoves one hand in the pocket of his jacket and sighs and tries to just– not want to commit murder. 
He notices it by chance. 
From here, he can see his own bedroom window, four stories up, the drapes shuttered. It’s like six at night, but it’s April, so it’s not pitch-black, the sky that sort of soft blue-purple color with the sun obscured behind the endless sprawl of buildings. It’s still bright enough for him to be able to see the shadows of the folds in the curtains. Bright enough for him to see them move.
It’s not a lot, just a slight shift of the fabric, the shadows rippling like the air had changed inside the room– it could have been a trick of the light, he reasons, he could be overstressed and underslept and kind of loopy off all of the half-second buzz he gets from the nicotine, seeing things. It could be the stupid fucking window, the fact that he knows the seal around the edges needs to be repaired; it had been drafty as hell all winter. It could just be that the radiator had happened to switch on at that exact moment, sent a rush of heat spilling up to the ceiling that swayed the drapes just enough to make him think that there’d been– something.
Those are all perfectly viable explanations. None of them settle his pulse. 
He thinks he can probably feel his senses heighten, like everything in his field of vision sliding into better focus, or maybe his awareness of them just amplified; same with his hearing, the din of constant city noise sorting out into isolated and individual sounds that he filters through as he stalks the length of the lobby hallway, takes the stairs two at a time, silent and barely breathing.
When he gets to his floor he stops on the landing. Listens. There’s the muffled noise of traffic outside, a horn going off that sparks two others in quick succession, all from different cars; the couple three doors down from his whose argument is devolving into yelling at each other, again, their voices overlapping and rising in volume; the echo of scattered, tinny applause from what’s probably a TV on in an apartment upstairs.
And then there’s this soft, unassuming thump that comes from his apartment; nonspecific, maybe just the building settling as the temperature drops, but Bucky still stops breathing entirely and holds himself very, very still and waits–
But there’s nothing else. Nothing important. 
He tells himself sternly not to get his hopes up, and then realizes a half-second later that he’s not even sure what that means– if he’s hoping that there will be something or hoping that there won’t be.
His doormat is crooked. Just a little, one of the corners closest to the hallway folded over, kicked up, something that could have just happened by accident, a misstep from someone else living in the building, but–
That’s way too many fucking coincidences.
He opens the door as quietly as he can, enough to slip through and into the foyer but not quite far enough for the hinges to scrape against one another in the places where he’d scratched divots into them. The lights are off in the apartment, his living room and the adjoining kitchen shrouded in that late twilight shade of purplish-black; he sees a solid shadow in the corner by the fridge and something inside of him lights up and comes alive and floods his entire nervous system with this immediate shock of energy and it’s like everything just sharpens, his awareness of the world around him, like everything had been fuzzy and gray and muted before and now it’s not, the shadows are darker and richer and the colors are brighter and he stops feeling like he’s watching the world slip past him in this monotonous and unending blur.
She doesn’t hear him until he’s almost all the way across the living room, and even when she turns he just raises his arms up, a gesture he hopes comes off as nonthreatening.
She doesn’t move.
Bucky steps into the kitchen— it’s an open floor plan, so, honestly, there isn’t really a strict dividing line— and realizes his mistake as soon as he gets his palms flat on the counter. He’d meant to close the distance and show her that he’s not going to hurt her, keep his hands open and within her line of sight, but he’d miscalculated by a fucking large margin. There’s nowhere for her to go, he’d trapped her in the corner, not even on purpose; the door and the window in the bedroom are her only exits, and he’d situated himself directly in between both of them.
The last time, she’d ran, when he’d tried to get close.
Belatedly, it occurs to him as he watches the stiffening line of her posture that if she can’t run, she’s probably going to–
She lunges for him and swings at his head and he sidesteps it, moving down further along the long side of the dividing counter. He’s not even between her and the door anymore, but it doesn’t matter, she just keeps moving towards him, and her face, when he sees it– her expression– her eyes, that violent and single-minded focus, the strange serenity to them, like her mind is blank and her head is empty except for the way that she’s tracking him, the steady steps that he keeps taking back, and back, and back–
“Listen,” he says, “I don’t want to hurt–”
She lashes out at him mid-sentence and he jerks back and hits the wall in the adjoining hallway; he’s operating mostly on an old and familiar instinct so he twists to the side when she tries to hit him again before he can think twice about it, realizes only afterwards that he’d been standing in front of a support beam and he should have just let her hit him, it’s not like she could hurt him, and she’s going to break her fucking hand–
She hits the two-by-four dead-on and he expects to hear the solid awful crunch of the bones in her knuckles or her wrist, but what he actually hears instead is the drywall crack as an impact crater erupts out from under her fist and the plaster crumble like wet sand and the two-by-four fucking snap, bow in on itself and splinter into jagged shards like a tree hit dead-on by a car veering off a highway.
“Oh, shit ,” he says, aloud, and suddenly a lot of that instinctive and unthinking recognition starts to make a lot of fucking sense. “You’re–”
She swings for his head again and he ducks and lurches backwards and catches her next attempt with the metal arm– he deflects it harmlessly to the side, but the angle is strange and he ends up absorbing a lot of the momentum and the force of the blow jars all the way up to his shoulder, and, holy fuck, yeah, she’s exactly what he thought, she has to be–
“Will you– just– stop,” he tells her, or tries to. She’s gotten close again and the sentence is cut off when she goes for his sternum with her elbow and he barely manages to move back, a few milliseconds from having the wind knocked clean out of him, and then a second time as she steps in to knee him in the ribs and he’s force to twist to one side at some strange angle that nearly has him off-balance. She’s fucking fast, Jesus Christ; he catches her arm when she swings at him again, grabs her wrist with his hand and presses the metal one out flat to the inside of her bicep and tries to force her backwards into the wall, but she steps in and closer to him before he can gather the momentum and this time she throws her elbow towards his fucking face–
Bucky makes the split-second decision to just let go and try to put some fucking distance between them, retreating back into the kitchen.
He doesn’t want to hurt her, not if he can help it, not with how she looks right now as she advances on him— there’s something in her eyes that he doesn’t just recognize, something that he knows, it’s like looking into a fucking mirror if mirrors could be fucking portals into the past, or something.
“Stop,” he says, again; they’re following each other around the long counter in his kitchen, now, her eyes fixed on his with this startling precision, staring him down like a cornered animal. And, god, he fucking gets that, if only she’d just–
She seems to realize after a few seconds that they’re just circling, because she leverages herself up on the counter and slides across it and nearly breaks his nose with her heel.
He catches her next punch dead-on and the look of blank fucking shock on her face is satisfying in ways that he knows, rationally, shouldn’t be. 
“Listen to me,” he says, and she doesn’t, predictably, but when she steps in to try to hit him and maneuver out of his grip like the last time he just uses her own momentum to get her turned around and pinned flat down to the counter with both of her arms twisted behind her back, held together with one of his hands, applying enough pressure to keep her there without tearing ligaments. She thrashes, violently, catches him with her feet a couple of times in the shins, but he’s running on adrenaline and the pain doesn’t even really register as pain at all, the way it used to, like it’s all just sensation, no more important than temperature or hunger or pressure or time.
“Listen,” Bucky says, again, trying to keep his voice nonthreatening but not sure how well he manages that, “Listen, alright, I don’t want to hurt you, just relax.“
The thing about the stupid counter in his kitchen is that it’s not really at waist height, even for him, which means when he’d forced her down onto it she wasn’t bent over at an angle deep enough for him to have the leverage to keep her there for long. The ideal position would be anything more than ninety degrees, an angle that would have someone stuck and unable to straighten against the pressure without the use of their arms; the thing about that stupid fucking counter being so high up and her being shorter than him by a meaningful margin is that the edge of it doesn’t even come close to hitting her waist and the angle he’s holding her at is incredibly fucking shallow. It wouldn’t be that hard, if she were to realize all of that, for her to drop her weight down and press into the counter with her knees to force him backwards; it wouldn’t even have to be far, there's a lip jutting out from the top that she's bent over, so there’s space between her and the side of it already. She’d only need enough room to brace her feet and push-- the legs are the strongest muscle group in the human body, and the impact when he hits whatever’s behind him would be more than enough to force his grip to loosen.
Bucky had been aware of all that, is the thing. Obviously. He’s a professional. 
He just thought it might have taken her a little longer to figure it out.
His back hits the fridge hard enough that it rattles all of the contents inside and forces the air out of his lungs with a pained and entirely involuntary groan and though he tries real fucking hard to keep ahold of her, he loses track of one of her arms.
She starts to turn against his grip on the other and from that look on her face he knows— intimately, personally, from fucking experience— what will happen next. Either she will keep going, keep twisting until she can hit him hard enough to escape and tear the tendon in her arm in the process, or—
Bucky lets go.
She scrambles back and away from him. He stays perfectly still, not moving his hand from where it’s still half-outstretched and open. 
She only looks at him for what’s probably less than a second before she makes for the door, but it feels like so much longer. That kind of glassy, thoughtless fog breaks, when she does, and her eyes widen a fraction and something glints inside them, fragile and expressive and aware.
It’s just that one second, and then she’s gone, the door to his apartment ajar and swaying farther open, pushed by the air that had moved when she’d slipped past it.
Bucky releases the breath he’d been holding, and slumps back against the fridge. 
~
That night he does a bug sweep for the first time in what feels like forever. There aren’t any, which is almost halfway to a surprise; he checks again for anything left behind, and again, more carefully, for anything out of place, but finds nothing.
Later, laying on his mattress and staring up into the dark, he thinks about calling Sam. He still doesn’t know anything about her, who she is or who she works for or what she wants, from him and then just in general; she’s had some kind of serum, and she moved like she’d been trained— like she’d been conditioned, how she hadn’t even hesitated at the thought of causing herself some pretty fucking significant damage to escape, the same way an animal in a trap gnaws off its' own leg. 
That’s a lot of fucking glaring red flags, and she’d broken into his apartment.
He should definitely tell Sam. Or anyone, really. 
The thing is, though—
He’d recognized something in her, the very first time. If he was going to tell anyone, he would have done it then.
No, this is— it’s fine. He can handle this himself, Bucky decides, and then closes his eyes.
He doesn’t sleep for long, but he doesn’t have any nightmares.
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writeshite · 1 year
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Bucky seeing a stomach bulge as he fucks you
this is a size kink basically
Hmmm good soup
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johnslittlespoon · 1 month
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Also i love ur john is dog coded prompt 😭😭
IT'S MY FAVOURITE THING EVER. i could go on about it for ages, it makes so much sense; i latched onto it from episode one just based on vibes alone and then the howl on the plane wing and the "okay, meatball" really solidified it. he's literally just a dopey impulsive clingy eager to please puppy. i'm a goner.
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venusstorm · 10 months
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𝘽𝙪𝙢𝙗𝙡𝙚𝙗𝙚𝙚𝙨 𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙃𝙤𝙣𝙚𝙮𝙗𝙚𝙚𝙨
The time in which you gifted Bucky Barnes an adorable little keychain for his motorcycle.
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ෆ Warnings: 18+ – MINORS DNI, fluff, insecurity, Bucky can’t stop lifting you up
ෆ Bucky Barnes x Reader
ෆ w/c: 1.2k
̟ ෆ ‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿ ෆ ̟
"Isn't this yours, honeybee?" Bucky questions, dangling the bright yellow bumblebee with a pastel pink heart in his hand. He inspects it carefully, turning it around before offering it back to you.
You shake your head, "It was, yea...but..."
Bucky stares at you expectantly and suddenly the entire idea sounded foolish. You couldn't help but envision him laughing at you, snorting at how ridiculous he'd look flying down the highway with your dumb keychain flapping in the wind. It'd stick out like a sore thumb against his jet-black bike, the rev of his engine alone probably sending the poor bee soaring into the clouds.
"I put it in there by accident," you laugh nervously, reaching out for the tiny bee. But his hands clenched tightly around the keychain before you could grab it.
Almost tauntingly he lets it hang in front of your face, staring at you with a half smile.
"On accident?" He hums. "So the keychain that's been on your backpack since the day I met you just somehow found its way into my birthday present?"
You shrug. "I took it off and must've misplaced it."
His eyes glimmer with question but instead of pushing further, he lets it go. He shrugs, "Okay."
Your face falls as he hands the keychain back to you. You squeeze the poor ball of fluff, trying your best not to belittle yourself for being so nervous.
It's for the best, you told yourself. I'm sure he doesn't want some weird form of "staking claim" on his bike. His buddies would make fun of him for it anyway. It's better if it stays with me. Yea. Better.
Hurriedly you try to direct your attention away from your thoughts, shoving the keychain into your pocket.
Your solemn expression brightens into excitement. "I have another surprise!"
You take Bucky's hand, leading him towards your living room which noticeably had a different ambiance than usual. He happily trails behind you, watching your joyous face with adoration.
Every time he's with you his brain goes fuzzy. You allow him to decompress, relax, and think about nothing besides the moment he's in. He craves getting off of work and coming straight to your apartment, still sweaty and dirty from working at the bar, and yet you run up and give him the biggest hug. "Hang on, let me take a shower, honeybee." But you'd ignore him, smashing your lips against his until he gives up rationalizing and allows you to strip him bare.
"I know it's kind of corny and if you'd rather go out and celebrate I completely understand. I just thought this would..."
He can't focus on your words. Not as he's looking at what you had done. Candles lit around the room, the whole place smelling of warm vanilla and cinnamon. Fairy lights twinkled around the ceiling, draping over the windows. The coffee table has been shoved to the side and in its place is a bundle of blankets and floor pillows. Balloons and streamers are scattered across the room, and finally, he zones in on the blue and white cake.
"Happy Birthday James!" it reads. He could tell that you made it because of the bright red heart dotting the i.
He whispers your name in pure disbelief.
"Yes?" You stare up at him with admiration. You truly love this man and want to do everything in your power to show it.
"C'mere, baby." Bucky scoops you up into a hug, hiking you up until your legs are wrapped around his waist. He holds you close against his chest, kissing you sweetly. "You did all this for me?"
You nod, eyes wide as he stares at your lips. A look of pure hunger ravishes you. Bucky presses his forehead against yours, his chest rising and falling rapidly.
He couldn't recall a time before you when his heart felt as if it would beat out of his chest. Nor a time when his eyes became so glazed over with pure adoration that he swore he'd cry right then and there. He was hesitant about this future, the new world that he found himself forced to live in. But the moment he saw your sweet smile for the first time, all that faded away.
"Thank you, Princess." You whimper as he whispers into your ear, his hands traveling up the Henley that you stole from his drawer. He didn't mind you stealing his clothes. The first time he caught you he handed you a pile of his shirts, begging you to take them and wear them as your own.
He kisses your shoulder softly. "Thank you for being here for me."
"For taking the time to know me and care for me."
His lips press against your neck, a soft groan rumbling within his throat. "I still remember the day we met...felt like the universe was finally giving me my happy ending."
You state his name breathlessly. "I'm supposed to be celebrating you, not the other way around."
He ignores your remark, his eyes narrowing as his brain begins to churn. "Do you trust me, sweetheart?"
You respond without hesitation. "With everything."
"And you'll always tell me the truth, right?"
You nod reassuringly.
He releases his grip on your legs, setting you back onto the ground. "So tell me what this is about." His hand shoots into your pocket, pulling out the black and yellow bee. He squeezes it in his hand before laying it out in his palm.
"I told you–"
He raises an eyebrow, "The truth."
You didn't want to come off as too clingy and you didn't want to hear Bucky reject your gift. Thank you baby but...it's a little childish. You could hear the words flowing from his lips perfectly. He'd hate it.
"I–"
Bucky pulls you closer. His eyes flooded with warmth. "Please."
"It was for your bike," you whisper. "And before you say anything. I know it's dumb...that's why I took it back."
"My bike?"
You nod wordlessly. "I thought it'd be cute if you had a little piece of me wherever you go. But the more I thought about it the more I realized how stupid it'd probably look. I mean...none of the other guys have–"
Bucky cuts you off, lifting you off the ground and back into his arms. "Oh, baby...is this what you were hiding?"
You nod sheepishly. "It's stupid."
He shakes his head. "It's perfect. You're perfect. M'gonna tie this onto it right now, honeybee. The guys are going to be so fucking jealous when they see what you got me."
Your lips broaden into a smile. "Really?"
Bucky hugs you tightly, his hand caressing your head against his shoulder. "Gotta let the whole world know I've got the most thoughtful, gorgeous person by my side. M'never taking it off, baby. It goes where I go now."
You squeal as he races into the garage with you in his arms, flicking the lights on and heading towards his bike. He sets you down gently, making a show of the keychain in his hand before attaching it to his key ring. Happily, he throws his leg over the bike, twisting the ignition. The bike roars to life and the sight of your bright yellow bee against the black exterior makes you burst out into laughter.
Bucky grins. "See? It's perfect, baby. Told you."
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Because of this post reminding me about the Bad Kidz Parent Polycule, I present to you the Bad Kidz Family Cluster.
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[ID: A family tree of all the Bad Kidz and their parents using the updated official art. In the top right corner, Gorgug has a solid green line connecting him and Roz and Gorbag. A dotted green line connects him and Digby and Wilma. Roz, Gorbag, Digby, and Wilma are connected by a solid black line with a question mark below it.
Below that, The Applebees are connected to Kristen, Bucky, Bricker, and Cork by solid green lines. Kristen and Tracker are connected by a solid pink line with a red X crossed through it.
Tracker is connected to "Unknown Parents" by a solid green line. "Unknown Parents" is connected to Jawbone by a solid blue line, and Tracker and Jawbone are connected by a dotted green line with a question mark above it. Adaine is connected to Jawbone by a dotted green line, and Aelwyn is connected to Adaine by a solid blue line.
Jawbone and Sandra Lynn are connected by a pink line. Sandra Lynn and Gorthalax are connected by a pink line with a red X crossed through it, and Fig is connected to them by a solid green line. Gorthalax and Sklonda are connected by a pink line with a question mark below it. Sklonda and Pok are connected by a purple line that is bisected by the skull and crossbones emoji. Riz is connected to them by a solid green line.
Sandra Lynn and Gilear are connected by a purple line with a red X crossed through it. Gilear and Fig are connected by a dotted green line, and he and Hallariel are connected by a pink line. Hallariel and Bill are connected by a purple line that's bisected by a skull and crossbones emoji. Fabian is connected to them by a solid green line, and Fabian and Fig are connected by a dotted blue line. End ID]
Green means parents/children, Blue means siblings, Pink means dating, and Purple means marriage. Dotted lines mean non-biological. The black line means I have no idea what the Thistlesprings and Roz and Gorbag have going on.
I wasn't sure if Gorthalax and Sklonda are actually dating so I put a question mark, and I wasn't sure if Jawbone actually adopted Tracker or was just letting her live with him. Regardless, here's the full family tree. I hope it gets worse <3 thanks for your time.
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delaber · 1 year
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Warrior/Worrier (Bucky Barnes x Reader)
Summary: After a mission gone awry, Bucky finds himself on your doorstep in the middle of the night.
Words: 5.3K
Fluff, fluff and fluff and a lil bit of angst. Classic hurt/comfort and friends to lovers
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Through the darkness, there's a knock on your bedroom door, so soft, so cautious, that if you hadn't already been half-awake, you're not sure you would've caught it.
Legs quickly swung over the side of your mattress, you stop and focus at a fixpoint in your moonlit room.
According to the big mission schedule hung in Steve's office, you should be the only one at the compound, so you cannot for the life in you figure out who would rap on your door at 3.30 in the morning, but it wasn't just something you'd imagined because there it is again. A knock, not much louder than before, but definitely there.
For a brief second, your foggy brain ponders that it's likely someone who's been sent to kill you in the dead of night, but before you've even reached for your bedside Beretta, rationality reminds you that they probably wouldn't have had the curtesy to knock first - and then it dawns on you.
"Nat," you sigh with a roll of your eyes and let your bare feet hit the floor while you rub the sleep from off your face. It's not the first time she's forgotten the lock combination to her room after post-mission drinks.
Slowly, you walk across the cold floorboards and over to the wooden door where you can hear ragged breathing from the other side of the wall. Hand lazily pulling the door open, you start talking before you've seen who's on the other side.
"It's only four digits and you're panic breathing?" you chuckle but is immediately taken aback when you're not met by Natasha but instead by your best friend. "...Buck?"
He's back from his mission a day earlier than you'd expected and you're just about to crack a witty comment on how you'd told him that Sam couldn't stand to be alone with him for more than thirty-six hours, but then you notice the state he's in.
His entire body is slumped over as he clutches his right arm tight to his chest, eyes droopy and blank, cheekbones dotted by freckles of soot and framed by thick strands of auburn hair caked in dried blood. "Doll," he breathes painfully and takes a step closer, looking only mildly relieved to see you.
"Buck!" you hiss in fear and grab both his cheeks, but his dirty face just drops further, and he can't even look at you though you're standing mere inches apart.
"I know it's late," he mumbles with his gaze downcast, "but can I come in?"
It's as if you don't hear him clearly enough to respond. His voice is under water and at the same time layers above you while you're far too concerned with every look of horror splashed across his handsome face, your hands frantically clutching his bloodied cheeks as you desperately search his eyes though he still won't look at you. "What happened? Where's all this blood coming from?"
"It's - it's not mine..." he croaks with a small shake of his head.
Fear ripples through your entire body one more time and you can barely speak as you imagine the worst possible scenario that might have caused Bucky to behave like this. "Is it... Sam?" you whimper with tears already burning in your eyes, fighting the urge to throw up.
"He's fine," Bucky quickly interrupts with a small nod, "I dropped him off at his girl's place twenty minutes ago," he croaks and finally looks up at you, his eyes more broken than you've ever seen them before. It makes your heart crack in two. "Sweetheart, can I please come in?"
"Oh god," you pant anxiously and reluctantly let your fingers slide off his cheeks as you step to the side and finally let him inside your bedroom. "Yes, yes of course you can come in."
Immediately, he's on your bed, his face buried in his vibranium hand as the pads of his fingers start rubbing circles over his dusty forehead.
"What happened?" you barely manage to croak as you sit down beside him and carefully place a hand on his rigid thigh. "Last time I heard from you, everything was going according to plan."
"I don't want to talk about it," he gulps and starts rubbing his face even more agitatedly, looking over at you with an apologetic look on his face. "- not right now... I just had to see you. I'm sorry I woke you up."
You grab his vibranium hand and bring it down to his lap to get him to stop his frantic movements and he immediately squeezes you tight, letting out another heart-breaking sob.
"It's okay, Buck. I'm glad you're here."
Over the last year, you've seen Bucky on his darkest days a handful of times, and he usually has the same look on his face, but this time, it's different. It's deeper. Despondent and morose, the anger that's usually posessing him om the bleaker days replaced by a different kind of sadness.
Something really bad must've happened...
"Do you wanna sleep in here tonight?" you ask, unsure how to tackle this the best way possible if you don't want him to shield himself off in his room the way he usually does when he's not feeling his best. He shouldn't be alone under any circumstances.
You're half expecting him to protest, but to your surprise he starts nodding, relieved. "Thank you," he whispers and squeezes your hand tight again.
You make an attempt at a comforting touch as you brush over the soot on his cheeks, making a strand of dirty hair dipped in dried blood fall from his forehead. "You want a shower? I can draw you a bath."
He nods again.
"Come on, love," you say quietly and watch as he gulps hard at the sound of the tender pet-name that you've been wanting to call him for months now but haven't had the guts to say out loud until it accidentally slips past your lips. Surprisingly, you're not even embarrassed by yourself. You suppose there are more important things to worry about than an accidental profession of love in a moment of gentle affection.
Bucky seems taken aback too, frozen, and full of wonder, but he shakes it off and lets you pull him to your small bathroom, accepting your fluffiest towel without a word as he continues staring at you.
"I'll be just outside, okay?" you say reassuringly as you turn on the water in your bathtub, making sure it's the right temperature before putting in the drain stopper.
He's still looking at you with huge eyes, flesh arm clutched to his chest while the fluffy white towel gently supports his elbow. You silently wonder if he's hurt but before you can ask him, he speaks.
"Can you... stay?" He asks quietly, biting his inner cheek, unsure if his request is too much.
Still, it's your turn to be taken aback. You and Bucky are close but not like that. 
"Stay?" you instinctively furrow your eyebrows, "while you shower?
He immediately clenches his jaw shut and shakes his head while small patches of pink appear on his cheeks underneath all the dirt. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have asked."
"No, no it's okay," you quickly stand up from your position by the tub spout so you're once again levelled. "- I was just surprised, that's all," you want to smack yourself for making him doubt himself. "Of course I'll stay."
Ice blue irises slowly find yours while the rose tint of his lower lip is being pulled between his teeth. "Are you sure?" he hesitates while sucking in some air, "I don't want to make you uncomfortable..."
"You're not," you touch your hand to his sternum to underline your words and watches as the crease between his eyebrows slowly reduces as he gradually relaxes under your touch. You can't help but think that even through all the dust and the grime, he looks incredibly beautiful.
"Let me give you some privacy," you unwillingly let go of him and turn away so he can undress in peace.
From behind you, you can hear the ruffle of his tac pants being pushed down his legs before the belt buckle clangs loudly against the tiles of the floor. It's followed by a series of loud painful grunts and hisses a few seconds later.
"Are you okay?" you ask and turn your head to the side, careful not to look directly at him as to not break the trust he put in you when he asked you to stay. "Buck?"
"Yeah, sweetheart," he sighs in embarrassment behind you, "it's just... do you think you could... help me?"
You turn around slowly to find him standing in the middle of the bathroom still wearing his torn t-shirt and Kevlar vest, bare-legged in boxer shorts and black socks pulled high up on his calf while his pants are lying crumbled on the floor beside him. He's awkwardly shifting the weight between his two feet, still clutching his right arm tightly. "It's my elbow."
Immediately, you furrow your eyebrows and walk over to him, taking his right hand in yours. "Yeah, I meant to ask you earlier. What happened?"
He doesn't answer but just silently lets you examine the swelling and black-purple skin that's half-hidden underneath dust and blood.
"Shit," you breathe and hear him give out a sharp hiss when you turn his arm over so you can examine the other side, "Buck, I think your elbow's torn."
"Me too," he gulps, "- I heard it snap."
At the mere thought of the sound, a wave of nausea hits you square in the chest and your stomach starts to churn. You can feel the tang of acid push up on your tongue when you imagine the pain he must've been enduring - still is enduring - but you fight it relentlessly and eventually manage to swallow down the bile. You should be taking care of him, not the other way around.
"We should go down to the infirmary," you say and keep your gaze firmly placed on the purple bruising, so he doesn't notice your discomfort. "I know it probably won't take too long to heal with the serum and all but just to make su-"
"Sweetheart," he gulps from above you and it makes you stop mid-sentence. "Not tonight, okay? I just wanna stay here tonight."
You look up at him, about to protest, but the words quickly die in your throat when you notice the look he's wearing. He's begging. Anxious. Heavy-hearted.
"Okay," you reluctantly agree and carefully let go of his arm while he sends you a grateful look. "Come on, let me help you out of this," you say quietly in defeat and unstrap his vest beneath his ribs, pulling the Kevlar plates over his head while he groans loudly.
"Ah!" he hisses and clutches his elbow tight, squeezing his eyes shut when you try and pull his t-shirt over his head. "Fuck!"
"You good?"
"Mm-hmm" he hums displeased with lips pressed so tightly together they're forming a thin, white line. "Just get it over with."
You pull on the hem again so the dark fabric rides up his stomach, revealing scarred skin pulled tight over the bulging muscles you've spent so many warm summer days discreetly staring at. "Can you reach your arms just a little higher?" you ask and watch how his diaphragm heaves in small electric shocks when he cannot control the loud gasps that escape his throat.
"Fuck me!" He hisses and squeezes his eyes so tightly shut that his entire face pales. "Just rip the damn fabric off," he hisses angrily, "I can't extend my fucking arm."
"Are you sure you don't wanna get it checked out in the med wing?" You let go of his t-shirt and look him deep in the eye, hoping your concerned gaze can convince him that it'll be worth the trip just to get your jumping nerves under control.
"Just... get me out of this thing," he sighs in defeat. "Cut it open, I don't care."
Disinclined, you dive down in the drawer underneath your sink, pulling out a small flat-legged scissor that came with a roll of gauze you bought last year when you had a nasty wound that wouldn't stop bleeding. "Are you sure?" You look up at him as you put the blade underneath the hem of his t-shirt.
Through the fingers you have placed over his chest, you can feel how his pulse quickly falls again when your eyes meet.
"S'just a t-shirt," he mumbles quietly while nodding, "I'm sure..."
Though you want to stay in this position forever, you slowly look away from him and down at your hands as your hesitantly start cutting, careful not to pierce Bucky's flesh with the sharp scissors.
The blade runs through the fabric like a hot knife through butter and you can feel every tense muscle that the edge of the scissors encounters as they travel over his warm stomach and chest. It makes the blood roar in your ears as more and more skin is revealed underneath your fingertips.
Concentrated on not hurting him even more, you keep your gaze firmly placed on his heavily panting chest as you cut open the front of his black shirt and carefully peel the fabric off his bruised arm until he's standing in front of you in nothing but black boxers and socks, his left hand carefully reaching out for yours as if to comfort both of you.
You've seen him bare chested several times before, but it's never been in this close proximity, never been this intimate, just the two of you holding hands and looking each other deep in the eye as you silently try to assure the other that everything is going to be okay.
"So..." you clear your throat, embarrassed by the fact that you have to hold yourself back from leaning forwards, planting a small kiss on his dusty cheek. "- I take it you can shimmy your way out of those on your own, right?" You nod down towards his boxers and he blinks as if he's just woken up from a trance.
"Yeah," he nods and lets go of your hand while the pink patches make a reappearance on his face.
Slowly, you turn around facing the running spout in the tub to the soft sound of cotton hitting the floor behind you. Involuntarily, you give out a gulp and flusteredly grab the box of bath salts just to give your shaking hands something to do. You cannot believe that your extremely fuckable best friend is standing naked in your bathroom no more than two feet away, begging you to stay close to him.
Eyes still firmly placed on the water in the tub, you point over your shoulder to the rainfall shower in the opposite corner of the bathroom. "You wanna rinse off first?"
"I better," Bucky hesitates behind you. "Don't you think?"
"It'll be a much nicer bath if you do," you awkwardly clear your throat.
"Yeah, you're right," he sighs and turns on the shower, immediately stepping inside and closing the glass door behind him so you can finally breathe freely again.
Through the mirror above the sink, you can make out his naked silhouette behind the matte glass and how the tension in his shoulders first tenfolds and then completely disappears the minute the water turns warm and he relaxes. He lets his forehead fall forwards so it's pressed up against the cold tiles while the water runs over his defined shoulders and down his sculpted back, and you literally have to force your eyes away from him and the shape of his handsome torso.
With your gaze fixed firmly on the fuzzy bathmat at the foot of the shower, you hear the sound of your bath gel being opened, followed by a series of painful grunts as Bucky desperately tries to lather himself with the soap.
"Fuck," he mumbles quietly and before you've even voiced a single word of concern, he continues. "Sweetheart, I know it's a lot to ask..." he says a little louder, the embararssement still evident in his voice, "- but I'm gonna need a little help in here... it's - it's this damn elbow," he sighs, "I'm useless. Can you...?" his voice trails off and the question hangs thickly in the air between you.
He wants you to join him.
To wash him.
Take care of him.
The thought alone makes you nervous, you have to admit, but he needs your help and you're willing to do anything for him.
"Give me a minute," you gulp and strip down to your panties, pulling on the bra you wore earlier so you're not completely bare in there. Several times, you've dreamt of you and Bucky naked together, but not like this - never like this - and you'll be damned if the first time he sees you without a shred of clothes is because he needs help and not because he needs you.
With your pyjamas neatly folded on top of the toilet seat cover, you take a final look at yourself in the mirror, brushing your hair out of your eyes before nervously reaching for the shower door with shaking hands.
He's still standing with his chiselled back towards you, letting the water rinse over his dirty hair and down between his shoulder blades with a slightly pinkish hue. "I'm so sorry about this," he mumbles uncomfortably and hands you your loofah behind his back. "I'll make it up to you, I promise."
"Come on, Buck," you say as you dribble a little soap on the sponge, fighting the urge to let your gaze run all the way down to his thick thighs. "Don't beat yourself up, you know I'm always here for you."
"Still," he mumbles and goes silent as the loofah gently runs over his tense shoulders and traces down his spine.
The white soap bubbles work magic on his dirty skin and you make sure not to leave out a single square inch of his scarred backside as you wash him while fighting the urge to wrap your arms around his torso, telling him how glad you are that he not alone came home, but also that he came to you seeking help instead of barricading himself in his room. It seems significant that he's here, as if something's changed between you though you cannot put your finger on it.
Completely lost in thought, you accidentally run the loofah a little too vigorously over his right tricep, sending shockwaves down his broken bone and resulting in a painful hiss falling from his open mouth.
"Sorry," you mumble, and scrub down his lower back, this time more careful with your movements though there aren't any dirty or bloody spots left on either side of his spine. "There we go" you conclude quietly when you realise that the rinsing water has finally lost its pink and grimy hue. "Turn around," you ask and hope he cannot hear the nervousness straining your voice. No matter what, you're not looking down.
Bucky seems just as jittery about his compromising position as you do, and he slowly spins around, revealing pink cheeks and heaving pecs, his gaze glued to the ceiling as he looks as if he's ready to fling himself off the nearest cliff. "God, sweetheart," he mumbles and breathes hard, "I'm so sorry for all this."
"Bucky, come on - what'd I tell you?" you touch the loofah to his chest, careful not to look anywhere than at the sponge itself as it traces over his collar bones and down his handsome stomach.
He merely sighs and stands completely still while you rinse the crevices between the metal plates over his left clavicle, careful not to move his torso so much he hisses in pain again.
"...You're a good friend," he mumbles after a few focused minutes where you've carefully been scrubbing the gold-plated lines in the vibranium, "- I ever tell you that?"
"All the time," you smile genuinely for the first time since he knocked on your door earlier that evening. If there's one thing you can count on, it's that Bucky Barnes appreciates you more than anything.
"I mean it," he says, "never doubt that."
You look up into his eyes.
He looks so soft and innocent as he stands before you, face finally clean, wet hair sticking to his forehead while he professes his love for you. Even if it's just platonic, it makes your heart skip a beat.
"I know, Buck."
"Good," he nods and blinks a few times with heavy, wet lashes framing his cerulean eyes. The air between you is thicker than ever and for a brief moment, it looks as if he's about to lean in and kiss you, but you break the tension by looking away. You don't want to take advantage of his vulnerable state no matter how badly you want that kiss.
"You ready for the tub?" You ask him in a weirdly shaky voice.
He nods while an almost inaudible sigh escapes his lips. "Yeah," he says and turns off the water, quickly exiting the shower before you can take notice of the disappointment burning on his skin.
You dry your feet on the small fuzzy mat, carefully watching Bucky's naked backside as he tests the temperature in the tub by dipping his toe in the water before stepping over the porcelain edge, sitting himself down.
Immediately, he gives out a content sigh, and drapes right arm over his chest, supporting his broken elbow with vibranium fingers, and you finally deem the situation safe enough to approach him again.
"Want me to wash your hair?"
"Mmh" he hums with closed eyes, immediately more relaxed now that he's covered by water. "I don't deserve you."
You grab your shampoo bottle and push out a decent amount of liquid, pressing it to his warm scalp to the sound of an alleviated sigh falling from his lips as you carefully start massaging it into his roots.
"Does that feel good?" you ask through a smile.
"Yeah, sweetheart," he groans quietly, making the butterflies in your stomach flutter awake, "- feels amazing."
You're slowly lathering shampoo into his long hair, enjoying the feel of him underneath your fingertips, how his soft hair slips through your hands while also trying not to think too much about the kiss you robbed yourself of in the shower. You can hear how his breathing slowly steadies and you think that maybe he's in the early stages of sleep but then he unexpectedly heaves a deep breath -
"You know... I haven't been scared of death for a long time," he says so sudden, so seriously that you're immediately brought out of your trance as your every muscle freezes at his austere tone of voice. "I used to not care if I lived or died but... tonight didn't go as planned," he swallows thickly and you can see how his jaw tenses up as his voice becomes husky, "- they... had me."
"What?" you pant with mortification, your every skeletal muscle paralysed as your breathing picks up. You don't have to ask him who he's talking about.
"Sam and I, we were so sure of ourselves," he shakes his head with his gaze fixed on the wall straight ahead. "We thought had the perfect plan... I - I'm such an idiot, nothing ever runs smoothly with Hydra."
You can feel your heart thumping in your throat. "What happened?" You whisper.
"Sam was on the look-out while I got the hard drive," he mumbles, "it was so easy. It didn't even take me five minutes before I was heading back towards the safehouse," he gulps, "- of course it was an ambush. I should have realised the minute I set foot inside that building."
"You couldn't have known," you whimper softly and stroke his scalp, but he doesn't listen.
"- I thought I was..." the words drown in a heavy sigh, and he stares blankly into space while blinking the tears away.
"Buck," you whisper and can feel the pain radiating from every fibre of his entire being when you wrap your arms around his wet torso and hold him close to your chest.
"They took me to a room. Strapped me down," he takes a ragged breath, and you hold on to him even tighter, "I was sure that was it. I never thought I'd find myself home again."
"You're home now," you whisper and softly kiss his shoulder, hoping that he doesn't feel the tear that lands on top of his clavicle. "You're home now with me."
"I know, sweetheart," he leans into your hug with a sigh, "trust me, I know."
"Everything's gonna be alright, love," you whisper against him and stroke your hand over his hair, "it's you and me against the world, always."
"You and me," he quietly confirms and leans back into your chest with a deep breath.
You continue stroking him over the hair, hold on to him for dear life, not willing to let go as you feel him relax more and more in your arms until he starts snoring slightly, finally warm and safe in your embrace.
"Buck, come on," you instinctively kiss him right below his ear, "you're sleeping. Let's get you into bed."
"Sorry," he mumbles groggily and lets his head fall back against your shoulder. "m'just so fucking tired. Been up thirty-six hours..."
"We'll talk tomorrow," you kiss him again and unwillingly unwrap yourself from around his chest, standing up straight beside him. "I'm not going anywhere. Promise."
He's looking up at you with puppy eyes, gaze slowly travelling down your body and up again as if he hadn't realised you were in your lingerie until that exact moment. "You look beautiful," he says quietly and you half-expect him to laugh it off, but his face stays serious.
"...Thanks," you croak while handing him the fluffy towel, not sure how to react to his sweet words. He's called you many things, but he's never downright called you beautiful before.
"I can take it from here, sweetheart," he nods slowly and steals one last glance down at your body, "you just go to bed. I'll be in in a minute."
"Okay," you whisper and peel yourself away from the tension between you by swiftly turning around, exiting the bathroom.
Back in your room, you barely have time to get out of your wet underwear and put on a fresh set of pyjamas, before a boxer-clad Bucky joins you on the bed.
"Are you still okay with me staying the night?" He asks, nervously.
"Of course I am," you answer immediately and find his vibranium hand underneath the covers, lacing your fingers between his as you scan his weary features. "See if you can get some sleep, okay? You need it," you brush a strand of wet hair away from his face and make sure he's fine by gently cupping his cheek before closing your eyes, hoping he's following your lead, doing the same.
The dark room goes completely quiet for a few minutes where the only audible sound is of your synchronised breathing.
You can feel yourself grow impossibly tired too as you lie there hand in hand with Bucky, and you're just about to succumb to sleep, when suddenly, his quiet whisper breaks the silence.
"I thought about you," he says softly, and it makes you open your eyes again.
You're staring straight into his handsome face, his beautiful blue eyes scanning over your features as he slowly clarifies.
"When they had me strapped down, I thought about you," he moves his fingers against the palm of your hand and completely engulfs you. "The thought of not seeing you again was..." the words die in his throat, and he looks as if he's seconds away from whimpering. "- Sweetheart, you make me so afraid of dying."
You breathe hard with quivering lips, huge eyes matching his as you let his confession sink in.
"I was so desperate to come home, I snapped the restraints in half. Snapped my own elbow along with them," he winces slightly at the painful memory that once again makes your stomach churn. "Sweetheart, I fought like hell. I don't think I've ever been so angry... I - I killed everyone I could get my hands on, I just had to see you again," he brings your hand to his soft lips and kisses the delicate pulse point of your wrist.
"Buck..." a slow whine escapes your throat as you try to blink away a stubborn tear that slowly starts rolling down the side of your nose.
"I love you," he whispers so softly against your thin skin that you almost don't hear. His eyes are closed and he looks relieved to be lying here with you, so you carefully pull his hand to your chest, placing his vibranium palm above your heavily beating heart.
"I love you too."
"Sweetheart," he whispers above you and moves his hand a little on top of your soft pyjamas while lightly shaking his head with a sigh. "No, you don't understand..." he gulps and searches your face, "I love you."
Your breath hitches in your throat.
"- I want more than this," he slowly admits. "I want to be more than your friend. I'm in love with you."
You squeeze his hand and move a little closer to him, scared that he'll stop confessing his love if you say something to throw him off track.
He holds on to you and can feel how your pulse starts racing underneath your pyjamas. "I hope I'm not scaring you off."
"No, no you're not," you say in a hoarse voice, "not at all. I - I think about you all the time."
"You do?" He breathes hard, clearly not believing what he's hearing.
"Yeah," you merely nod and move your head a little closer to him while he does the same. "I'm in love with you too, Buck. Have been for quite some time."
With a serious look, he moves his hand from off your chest and up to your face where he brushes a finger over the delicate features of your cheekbone and down to your jawline. "I'm gonna kiss you now," he warns in a whisper and waits for you to give him a nod before he reaches his head forwards, finally claiming your mouth with his lips.
His hand snakes down the length of your spine and you press your entire front up against his hard chest and stomach while he caresses the small of your back, slipping his soft tongue inside your mouth. "God," he moans and gently grabs hold of your hips, pulling you impossibly close to him. "You make me feel whole again," he whispers against your skin and kisses a small line from your earlobe and down to the base of your clavicle. "What do you say sweetheart?" he mumbles and nibbles at your skin, "can I take you out?"
"Yeah, Buck, you can take me out," you squeeze his hand, and he smiles for the first time that evening, setting everything inside of you aflame.
He's finally smiling and it's because of you.
"I wanna do it the old-fashioned way," he says, beaming, "bring you flowers. Take you dancing. Show you how you're supposed to be treated."
You can't help but chuckle at his soft innocence. "You're an old man," you brush him over his hair, "nobody goes dancing anymore."
"I'll teach you," he chuckles back but lets it turn into a sharp hiss when he accidentally moves his broken elbow.
"That sounds lovely," you admit with a smile, excited at the prospect of having his hands on your hips while he tells you what to do, "- though I'm afraid we'll have to get that elbow sorted first if you want to manoeuvre me around on the dancefloor. I know you don't see the point in going but... med wing tomorrow morning?"
"Okay," he rolls his eyes with a laugh that makes your stomach go all warm and fuzzy. "If it gets me to go dancing with you just an hour earlier, it's worth the trip... Will you go with me?"
"Yeah, I'll go with you," you kiss his hand, and he chuckles so warmly your stomach lights up again. "I'll go with you always."
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oh hi big sis hru just wanted to ask for bucky making out w reader and "choking" reader? ((not really choking, just his hand on readers neck 🧜🧜 need that metal hand inside me
big sis?! AW GET OUT THATS SO CUTE!! salivating bc it’s such a delicious idea. thanks for requesting, hope you like it💌
VIBRANIUM NECKLACE.
bucky barnes x fem!reader — smut/ very suggestive
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word count. 592
warnings. 18+ bit of a hand kink (self indulgent? no😏don’t be silly) light ‘choking’ (basically just throat holding) mdni
Picking up on hints is something Bucky does best - his prior life as a weapon coming in handy when it came to connecting dots. 
But he didn't need his training when it came to you. Your clues were far from decreet.
He had noticed the recent liking you had taken to his vibranium arm - the longing glances, the touches, that look in your eye when he skims you with his metal fingers. 
There was something so lewd and erotic about it: the coldness of the metal when it touched your skin or just the thought of the sheer strength he could wield with it - just knowing the amount of power he could muster and still be so gentle with it around you.
He noticed it more prominently now. Standing together in the kitchen as you prepped dinner, you on Bucky's side as he chopped the ingredients. His right hand skillfully gripping the knife, his left metal hand holding a potato, keeping it still.
You were supposed to be on peeling duty, but every time you caught a glimpse of his hands, all work got delayed, consequentially leading to him having nothing to chop. So you pass him another peeled potato, watching how he brushes your fingers in the process - his hands purposefully lingering longer than they're supposed to.
Bucky's not an idiot. He could see it clear as day: the way your ears pull back, the delayed exhale in your chest, even the dilation in your pupils. He could see it all. 
You continue watching the smooth, fluid-like motion of his hands - practically ogling him as he drops the cubed produce into the saucepan. You're utterly captivated as you gawk at him, following his every move as he effortlessly glides around the kitchen - watching him place the pan onto the heat to boil.
He gives the potatoes a stir —fully aware of your stares— and turns to face you, noticing that same glimmer in your eye. He takes a step closer and presses a momentary kiss onto your lips, then pulls back, picking up on that hint of desperation across your face. 
So he leans back in, kissing you again and again until it evolves into much more than a few chaste, casual kisses. All of it progressing into something hungrier, eager - heavily making out as his lower half cages you against the counter. His cock chubbing up against your lower tummy.
He tests the waters and decides to use the one thing you've been eyeing up all evening. So he teases his left hand over your shoulder, fingers steadily skimming along until he reaches that part between your collarbone and the base of your throat - a faint, whiney moan leaving your lips in the process. The soft dulcet noise muffling into his mouth.
With your silent agreement, he snakes his palm higher - fingers itching up the sides of your throat until they settled in a light, comfortable grip just below your jaw. His grasp is faint, just merely holding your throat as he deepens the kiss, groin pushing you up against the edge of the counter.
He nips on your bottom lip before pulling away slightly, both of your chests practically heaving from the desperate makeout. He grazes his thumb over your chin, itching higher to run over your bottom lip, the pad outing it slowly - his eyes following attentively. 
"Don't you go anywhere," he whispers, pressing another kiss to your lips - moving away to attend to the bubbling pot.
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literaryavenger · 2 months
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Birthday Kiss
Summary: It's Bucky's birthday and he decides to spend it with his best friend, Steve, and Steve's little sister, you.
Pairing: 40s!Bucky Barnes x Rogers!Reader, Brother!Steve Rogers x Sister!Reader
Warnings: Angst. Idiots in love. Fluff. Vague mentions to sex. Language 'cause I can't help myself. My poor attempts at being funny.
Word Count: 3.4K
Prompt: "So what should I say?" "when?" "when I love someone." "you should say it"
A/N: Since it's almost Bucky's birthday I wanted to celebrate it with my first fic with 40s Bucky! He's one of my favorite Buckys and I've been wanting to write about him for a while and I finally got this idea! Hope someone enjoys it! In my mind this happens like a year before Captain America: The First Avenger, so Bucky is turning 25, Steve is 23 and the Reader is 21, but you can always imagine any age you want. As always, any ideas for fics are appreciated!
Masterlist
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You enter the room to see Bucky is hanging out in yours and Steve's apartment, like he always does, sitting down at the window, smoking a cigarette and reading the evening newspaper while a football game plays on the television in the living room and Steve sits on the couch, drawing on his notebook.
You're used to Bucky being here, he's your big brother's best friend and you've come to be very close friends with him too, even if you wished there was more.
As clichè as it is to have a crush on your brother's best friend, you couldn't help it. He was handsome and funny, and he's always sweet and protective of you.
You've known him since you were 9 years old, and he's the only family you have left other than Steve.
"Is this really how you're going to spend your birthday?" You ask Bucky as you sit on the couch next to Steve.
Bucky turns around towards you with a bright smile, his blue eyes lighting up as soon as he sees you, like they always do whenever he's around you.
He puts out the cigarette and stands up, walking over to you, sitting down on your other side and pulling you into a side hug.
"Hey, doll. I didn't think you were gonna be here today." He says, although he seems more happily surprised by your presence than disappointed.
"I live here, Barnes." You tease him with a smile. "Unlike you."
He rolls his eyes playfully as Steve snickers next to you while he keeps drawing. "I know that. I meant, I thought you were gonna be out with your friends tonight."
"I didn't feel like it." You dismiss him quickly, not wanting to actually say out loud that you'd rather spend his birthday with him doing nothing than go out with your friends, so you try to casually change the subject. "I thought you'd at least want to spend today with Dot."
Dot isn't actually Bucky's girlfriend, they've been on a few dates and you've seen them together a couple of times, but Bucky introduced her to you as a friend so you don't think they're that serious.
Not that Bucky ever is, girls are always all over him and he takes advantage of that. He's a ladies man.
But you try not to worry too much about his love life, not wanting to hurt yourself more than knowing Bucky will never see you like that already does.
"Well, I wanted to spend my birthday with my favorite pair of siblings. She can give me my birthday kiss tomorrow." He says with a grin while ruffling your hair.
"So... What's been going on with you lately, doll? Anything interesting happening in your life?" He asks curiously after a pause, genuinely wanting to know more about your day-to-day activities and experiences.
"I... Well, I went on my first date." You say shyly while playing with the edge of your dress.
Bucky's eyes widen in surprise, his interest piqued by your sudden confession. "First date? Who was it with? How'd it go?" He asks with what seems like excitement but mentally preparing himself to potentially become jealous or possessive no matter who you mention.
"It was fine..." You say quietly, still not looking at him. "It just wasn't... It wasn't what I was expecting..."
Bucky senses something off in your tone and expression, and immediately becomes concerned. He places a gentle hand on your knee, trying to comfort you without making it too obvious.
"What happened, doll? Did things not go as well as you hoped they would? Are you feeling okay?" He asks softly, trying to gauge whether or not you want to open up about what happened during your date and if there's anything he can do to make it better.
You don't really know how to answer his question, so you don't, simply glancing at him before looking away and shrugging.
"Tell me what happened, I'm here for you no matter what. If that guy hurt your feelings or made you uncomfortable, I'll kick his ass for sure." He promises fiercely, his protective instincts kicking into high gear whenever you seem vulnerable or upset.
You giggle weakly at his protectiveness but still don't look at him, so he takes your chin gently but firmly and makes you look at him. "Tell me what happened on your date. Was it some creep who tried to grope you or something worse? Because if he did, I swear to god I will find him and break his fucking legs."
"That's not it, Bucky." You say quickly. "It's just... He just... He wasn't..." You. He wasn't you. That's what you want to tell him, but you can't, so you sigh and shrug again. "He just wasn't my type."
Bucky knew what was your type. He knew he was your type, he has seen you ogle him countless times when he walked past you or sat near you.
He also knew that you had never shown any interest in any of the men who approached you, always dismissing them as not good enough for you. Or at least that's why he thought you did.
Glancing at Steve before looking back at you again, Bucky says quietly. "Well, that's too bad for him I guess."
"It doesn't matter, I'm not seeing him again." I say quietly, avoiding both Steve and Bucky's eyes.
Bucky's brow furrowed in confusion, he couldn't believe you were so quick to give up on a potential relationship just because the guy didn't live up to your impossible standards.
"Doll, you gotta give guys more of a chance. They ain't all as bad as you seem to think they are." He scolds you playfully, but there was also a hint of underlying irritation in his tone as he takes a long sip from his beer bottle.
You glance at him before looking away again. "So... You think I should go on another date with that guy?" You ask quietly.
Bucky thought for a moment, weighing the pros and cons of pushing you to go on another date with the mystery guy. "Yeah, actually. I mean, if you think he's worth giving a second chance, then why not? And if he turns out to be a total dud again, then at least you can say you gave it a shot. But only if you're really sure he's worth your time though. Don't waste it on some loser who doesn't appreciate everything you have to offer."
He advised you, trying to strike a balance between being supportive and challenging you to take risks when it came to relationships. "But whatever you decide, don't let me pressure you into doing something you don't want to do. You've gotta follow your heart, doll."
"You know, Stevie doesn't care this much about who I date, and he's my older brother." You tease Bucky while glancing at Steve.
Bucky snorts in amusement, "Yeah well, I'm not your brother, sweetheart, but I'm your friend and your wingman, and I'll be damned if I'm gonna sit back and watch you throw away a potential chance to be happy. Now come on, make up your mind already. Are you gonna give the guy another chance or not?" He pressed, playfully but determinedly.
You look at his face for a moment before looking away again and sighing. "I'm not." You say quietly but firmly. "I'm not going on a second date with that guy." You clarify.
Bucky felt his jaw tighten a little as he realized that you had completely ignored his previous suggestion and were instead deciding against giving the guy a second chance.
He didn't like the idea of you potentially missing out on something good due to your own stubbornness, but he also knew that he couldn't force you to do anything you didn't truly want to do.
"Well, fuck. Guess that settles that then," He said after a moment of silence, trying to hide his disappointment but failing miserably. "You're really gonna just throw that opportunity away? Fine, suit yourself, I guess. But don't expect me to hold your hand or anything when you get sad because you're alone. You're on your own with that shit."
"I guess I am." You say quietly before getting up from the couch and going to the window, climbing into the emergency staircase to go up to the roof, like you do most nights to watch the stars.
Bucky watches you leave, feeling a mix of frustration and concern as he realizes that you're retreating to your usual spot on the roof rather than staying and talking to him.
He wants to call after you, to make sure you're okay, but he knows better than to push you if you need time alone.
Instead, he takes a deep breath and tries to focus on the present moment, reminding himself that sometimes people need space and time to themselves.
"Fine. Have it your way," he calls after you, knowing that there isn't much else he can do in this situation. "But don't think for a second that I won't be keeping an eye on you up there. You better not try anything stupid."
You roll your eyes but don't stop, going up to the roof, that's right above yours and Steve's apartment, and sitting on the picnic blanket you and Steve use every night.
After a few minutes someone else comes to the roof and you can tell it's Steve by the light steps. "You sure you want to let Bucky alone in our apartment, Stevie? I'm afraid he might burn it down." You joke weakly without turning around to look at him, your eyes locked in the city's skyline.
Steve chuckles and you can feel him sitting down next to you. It's not the first time you sit together on the roof, everybody in your apartment building knows this is the Rogers siblings' spot.
You don't say anything and neither does Steve, and you're especially glad he doesn't say anything when he sees a tear falling down your cheek but simply wraps his arm around you as you lay your head on his shoulder.
"What's going on in your head, little sis?" Steve asks you after you stop crying.
You try to gather your thoughts, trying to find a way to make sense of everything swirling in your head. You take a deep breath before you pull away slightly and turn your head towards the city again. "What should I say?" You ask quietly.
"When?" Steve asks with a frown.
"When I love someone." I clarify looking back at him.
"You should say it." He tells you firmly. It's not the first time you've talked about this, Steve knows about your feelings for Bucky and like a good big brother he always tells you to express yourself. "You should tell him."
You sigh and look away from him and back to the New York skyline. "I don't know, Stevie..."
"Why not, Bambi?" You smile softly at his use of your childhood nickname because Bambi is your favorite book, but then you shake your head.
"Have you seen the way he looks at Dot? I have no chance with him. I'm not his type." You say with conviction.
"You really don't see it?" Steve ask, getting a little frustrated.
"See what?" You ask confusedly while looking back at him.
"The difference between you and her is that he looks at her like she's the prettiest girl in the world," Steve says and your heart sinks so you look away from him, but he still goes on. "but when he looks at you it's like... It's like maybe you're magic. He looks at you with such reverence and respect. He looks at you like if he could just have you in his arms, everything would be okay. Like if he had you, nothing could touch him. He looks at you like he just realized what love is."
Steve pauses and grabs your chin gently to make you look at him before finishing. "He loves you. Anyone can see that. You're just too blind to notice it."
Steve kisses your forehead and then gets up and goes back inside to the apartment, leaving you to think about everything he said.
You lay down on the picnic towel on the ground of the roof and look up at the stars. Could Steve be right? Does Bucky really love you back but you just haven't noticed?
If Bucky had feelings for you, certainly you would've noticed.
Yes, he's protective of you and he's always happy to have you around, but you've been friends for over a decade and he is your brother's best friend, so he probably sees you as just that. His best friend's sister.
But he never did treat you like Steve's annoying little sister.
Even when you were kids he always tried to include you in their games and literally held your hand whenever the three of you went somewhere, like the park a few blocks over.
He would always coo on you when you got any scrapes while playing and kiss your boo-boos away.
He's always been very sweet to you and he stood up for you as much as he did for Steve whenever someone bothered you.
But could that really be actual love? Or is it just affection for a girl he's known since you were little and sees as his own little sister?
You rub your eyes before putting your hands behind your head, getting comfortable while looking at the sky full of stars.
In the meantime, Bucky heard everything from the window of your apartment.
He couldn't deny the truth of what Steve had said, he did look at you with a sense of reverence and respect, like you held the key to unlocking his heart and making everything else in his life fall into place.
But he also knew that he had to tread carefully, to approach you in the right way or risk scaring you off completely.
As much as he wanted to take control of the situation and make things happen on his terms, he knew that he needed to let you come to him, to give you space to process everything that Steve told you and to allow you time to realize how much you actually mean to him.
As Steve climbs back into the window, he gives Bucky a pointed look and a pat in the back, silently encouraging him to talk to you.
Bucky takes a deep breath and then climbs into the stairs, getting to the roof but not getting any closer to you. He's determined to talk to you, but his nerves are getting the best of him.
You can hear Bucky coming to the roof and when he doesn't move closer you frown slightly but think he's just giving you a moment before sitting next to you.
When he stays put for a couple of minutes, you roll your eyes and with a small smile you say "You can come lay down next to me, if you want." Loudly enough for him to hear, your eyes never leaving the stars above you.
Bucky's heart skips a beat as he hears your invitation, and without hesitation he steps forward and drops down onto the towel beside you.
You can tell he's trying to keep his movements quiet, not wanting to startle you or disturb your peaceful contemplation.
He lays there quietly for a few moments, taking in the sight of you lying there so effortlessly beautiful, before finally speaking.
"You have no idea how much I wanted to hear those words coming from your mouth," he whispers and moves closer to you, placing one arm around your waist and resting his head on your shoulder, feeling incredibly vulnerable by the fact that you were so physically close and you were allowing him to get even closer.
"Thanks for letting me do this," he added, indicating the embrace.
"It's not the first time we've watched the stars together, Buck..." You whisper back, resting your head on his while willing your heart to stop beating so fast.
Bucky smiles softly, feeling a warm sense of contentment wash over him as he wraps his arms around you, feeling incredibly grateful for this moment of intimacy between the two of you.
He can feel the gentle weight of your body against his, and it feels like the most natural thing in the world. He listens to the sound of your breathing, feeling his heartbeat slow down as he takes comfort in your presence.
"Yeah, it's not the first time... But it feels different tonight." He whispers back, feeling a newfound confidence and boldness coursing through his veins.
He moves even closer to you, pressing his face against your neck and inhaling deeply, savoring the scent of your skin. "I've always... I've always wanted to hold you like this."
"I... I always wanted you to..." You whisper back hesitantly and bite your lip when he presses his face against your neck, almost scared to move, worried that if you do it'll ruin the moment.
Bucky feels a surge of pleasure course through his body as he hears your response, knowing that you too cherished these special moments with him.
When you don't say anything at his physical contact he continues to hold you tightly, feeling a deep sense of connection growing between you.
He presses his lips against your neck, gently kissing and nibbling on your skin, feeling a newfound desire burning within him that he had never experienced before.
He wants more than anything to take things further, to remove your clothing and explore every inch of your body with his hands and mouth, but he forces himself to remain patient and wait for your signal that you actually want something more intimate.
"You know... I've always been afraid to show you how much I really care about you," he whispers into your ear, his voice barely audible over the sound of the city below them.
"Steve thinks you love me..." You say quietly, hoping to god that your idiot brother is right for once in his life.
Bucky freezes a little, feeling a mixture of relief and surprise wash over him. He's surprised at your boldness but so relieved that the truth is finally out there.
But he also knows you well enough to know that if he wants you to truly believe that he loves you, then he has to act quickly to prove it to you and make sure that you never doubt his feelings again.
"Yeah... I do love you, Doll. More than anything else in this world. And I'm sorry that I didn't say it sooner... But I was afraid to lose you." He admits quietly, as he takes your face in his hands.
"You really mean that?" You ask quietly, a mix of hope and uncertainty clear in your voice.
"I do." He says without hesitation while he looks at your beautiful face turned towards his. "And I want to spend the rest of my life showing you just how much I care about you."
The smile that comes to your face is so bright that it feels to Bucky like the sun suddenly came up in the middle of the night.
"I know you already gave me a birthday gift," He says, referring to the jacket you gave him this morning. "But can I ask you for one more?"
You're definitely curious about what he wants so you nod. "Sure, what is it?"
"Can you give me a birthday kiss?" He asks quietly while brushing a strand of hair aways from your face and behind your ear.
You blush a little and can't help but smile because he wants a birthday kiss from you, not Dot or any other girl, and you nod slowly as you start leaning in.
Bucky meets you halfway and when your lips touch it feels like fireworks, your stomach filling with butterflies while he brings you closer to him while deepening the kiss.
After a few minutes you both pull away for air, breathing heavily while looking at each other. "Wow." Is all he says after a moment.
You giggle and bite your lip. "Happy birthday, Bucky." You say softly and give him a kiss on the cheek before settling back against him, your head on his chest as you look up at the stars.
Bucky wraps his arms around you, kissing the top of your head and then relaxes while looking up too, more content than ever to finally have you in his arms.
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navybrat817 · 10 months
Text
Where We Left Off
Pairing: Best Friend!Bucky Barnes x Female Reader Summary: You're in love with your best friend who is determined to make the most of your vacation together. Word Count: Over 1.2k Warnings: Light angst, friends reconnecting, unrequited feelings (or so you think), slight feels (it's me), future fun, Bucky Barnes (yep, he's a warning) A/N: New AU called Reconnect because why not? Meet Dreamboat and Butterfly. For @the-slumberparty 's June's Monthly Challenge : Bikini and Beach, and Smut Hub Summer Camp Bingo @sagechanoafterdark: Choose Your Vibes: Summer. Thank you @flordeamatista for the inspiration and pre-reading! ❤️ Any and all mistakes are my own. Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog for new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!
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It was a couple of summers ago when you realized you were in love with Bucky Barnes. When you looked back on your friendship, you wondered how it took you so long to realize it. Like how his smile made your heart race whenever he looked your way. Or how you found a solid ground and safe space together, each of you able to confide in the other.
He made you feel safe.
"You're my best friend."
Nothing more.
You stared out the living room window with a sigh, the beach house blanketed by the heavy sound of rain. While it had been bright and sunny just minutes ago, the sky was now dark and misty. You shivered as you wrapped your towel tighter around your wet body, enchanted by the summer storm instead of going to your room to change. It figured you'd buy a new swimsuit for the trip and only get to wear it outside for a minute.
"So much for lounging on the beach."
You smiled softly as you glanced at Bucky beside you, who ran a hand through his long, soaked hair. He hadn't bothered to keep his towel after the two of you rushed back inside, clad in just his blue trunks that matched the shade of his eyes. You scolded yourself for letting your gaze roam along his sun kissed, muscular body.
You didn't have the right to look at him that way.
"Yeah. So much for that," you said, the towel doing little to keep you warm as the air conditioner kicked on. "Maybe our punishment for getting started without everyone?"
Steve, another one of Bucky's best friends, put together a weeklong trip for the gang. So far, you and Bucky were the only two at the beach house. Everyone else wasn't going to be there until the evening. That was why you went for an immediate swim once you picked your room. The storm would likely put the group behind even more and now you were stuck inside with Bucky.
Why had you agreed to show up early?
Why did you have to be alone with him?
Why do I have to love him?
"Maybe," he said with a stretch, drawing attention to his wide chest. "Since it doesn't look like it's slowing down at all, why don't we cuddle on the couch? Catch up a bit?"
"Cuddle?" you scoffed, the sound more bitter than you intended as you turned to face him. "Why would we do that?"
A flicker of hurt passed over his eyes before he blinked it away. "Well, for one, you're cold. I can practically hear your teeth chattering," he replied. He wasn't a fan of being cold either, but he always ran warm. "And two, cuddling never bothered you before."
Your stomach flip-flopped. Bucky was right. He was the only male friend you ever snuggled with. Whenever you had a bad day, he didn't hesitate to throw a heavy arm around you and pull you against his chest. On good days, he found an excuse to keep you plastered by his side. He used to do it so often that most people assumed you were dating.
Wishful thinking.
"I'm sorry," you said, giving him the nicest smile you could manage even though it hurt to do so. "Been awhile since it was just the two of us and even longer than that since we cuddled."
The day it clicked that you saw Bucky as more than a friend was the day he introduced you to Dolores. Everyone called her Dot. The beautiful redhead looked good on his arm and you wondered why it wasn't you in her place. But you put on a brave face and smiled, even as your heart shattered. Because Bucky's happiness meant more than your feelings.
It didn't stop you from crying alone in the darkness where no one else could see.
"That's my fault," he whispered, sliding his fingers into his hair again and tugging harshly on the strands. You noticed he did that when he was upset. "And I'm sorry."
"Friendship goes both ways," you pointed out.
"You never faded out of my life when you dated anyone."
They weren't you, Bucky.
"I guess she was different," you smiled sadly.
The two of you still hung out and messaged each other while he dated Dot, but it was always as a group and the daily messages dwindled to chats here and there. You had the feeling that Dot didn't like you very much. In a way, you didn't fault her for that. Maybe she saw through you and knew you wanted Bucky.
Yet he was the one who broke up with her.
"You're allowed to be mad at me," he said as he took your hand and crossed the room to the couch. "I'd be mad at me."
"Right now, I'm just cold," you said, not wanting to dwell on the past. What good would it do?
He nodded slowly, almost like he was disappointed in your response. "Okay."
You shrieked when he pulled the towel away. It wasn't like he hadn't seen you minutes before in your bikini and you swore his gaze lingered on you long enough to consider it staring, but what was he doing? "What the hell?" you asked, but made no move to cover yourself.
Maybe I want him to see that I'm desirable.
Bucky let out a breath as he looked at you, your shivering having nothing to do with the cold. "You said you were cold, so let me warm you up," he urged, grabbing a blanket from the back of the couch before he took a seat. "Please?"
Silence fell over you as you sat down beside him. He wasted no time putting the blanket over you and wrapping his arms around your shaking frame. You breathed in his familiar scent and found yourself fighting off tears, a bittersweet swirl of longing and comfort settling in your chest.
Because he embraced you as if you meant something to him.
"I missed you," he whispered, running a hand along your back.
Your heart clenched, focusing on the rain falling outside in a melancholy rhythm. "I missed you, too."
"But we have each other again."
"I wish that were true," you whispered.
Why did I say that?
His hand stilled, but you were too afraid to look at him. "What do you mean?" he asked.
Panic bubbled in your chest. You couldn't just blurt out your feelings like this. "I just mean you went from a constant to a fleeting moment in my life," you said, which was the truth. "I don't want things to fizzle after we leave."
Bucky used to be the brightest star in your sky. Then he became the shooting star you missed making a wish upon. But you would forever watch the sky if only to get a glimpse of his bright light.
"I'll make it up to you. I have this whole week to start," he promised, rubbing his chin along the top of your head. "I don't care what Steve has planned. I'm all yours."
You squeezed your eyes shut because you knew you'd cry if you didn't. He wasn't yours. Not really.
"I'm yours, too, Bucky."
I always will be.
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Surely Bucky will sweep us off our feet, right? Love and thanks! ❤️
Masterlist ⚓ Bucky Barnes Masterlist ⚓ Ko-Fi
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angstysebfan · 10 months
Text
Just Friends - Part 2
Pairings: Bucky Barnes x Female Reader Summary: What happens in the aftermath of part 1, and will Bucky be able to fix this? Warnings: Angst, talks of manipulation, Bucky is a bit of an asshole, cursing
A/N: Hope you like Part 2 as much as Part 1! None of my stories or edited or beta’d so sorry for any grammar or spelling mistakes. If you want to be a part of my permanent taglist, please request letting me know that you want to be on the permanent one.
Part 1 here
You stay in your room for the rest of the day, not wanting to see or talk to anyone, especially Bucky. You just can’t understand how the hell this all happened. Two days ago, you were taking a nap together in each others arms, and now he doesn’t even want to be friends with you. Your heart is beyond broken, and the love you feel towards him makes you sad. You didn’t just love him as a friend, you were in love with him, and now you feel stupid. You know who is responsible, besides Bucky being a complete moron, Dot. That bitch has it coming to her.
You hear a knock on your door, and a part of you hopes it’s Bucky saying he made a mistake, but when you open the door you see Steve. The smile he was wearing falls when he sees your tear stained face.
“Hey, you okay?” he asks.
You nod, not wanting to talk about it, especially with Bucky’s now one and only best friend. Steve just looks at you, not believing you.
“Okay… well we have a mission, you free to leave tonight?” he asks.
“Yeah, absolutely. What time?” You can’t help the relieved feeling that you will get away.
“Need you ready to go with Nat in an hour” Steve says in his ‘Cap’ voice.
You salute him and close the door, to start prepping your departure. This mission could not come at a better time. You hope that some time away will help Bucky come to his senses, or maybe help you realize that you are better off without him.
You've been gone for two weeks and are dead exhausted when you and Nat exit the quinjet back into the compound. It was a brutal mission, and you probably have a few bruised ribs with a of bruises and scratches around your body. But despite it being brutal, it was a success. You and Nat go your separate ways to your rooms, knowing you will be up early tomorrow for a debrief. As you enter the hallway where your room is, you hear moans and groans coming from Bucky’s room. You curse yourself knowing what he's doing and who he's doing it with. You hear Dot’s voice “Harder Bucky, oh god… harder”, which makes you cringe and your stomach churn.
You tried to not think about the blue eyed super soldier over the last two weeks, and while you were busy getting the crap kicked out of you that was easy, but the downtime he was the only thing on your mind. It really pissed you off, but you knew you were hoping you would come home and he would be waiting for you, begging for forgiveness. Guess not. Dot really has her hooks in him, and if they are still together, than you know he did not tell her that he is going to stay friends with you. So it's officially over between you, and that thought is devastating. 
You go to your room and jump in the shower to drown out the noise coming from the room next to you. When you come out, you continue to hear the moaning and know you'll never sleep with that racket. You quickly change into sweats and a t-shirt and decide to head out to the common room to sleep on the couch. It's better than the alternative. You plop on the couch and cover yourself with a blanket, turning on the TV to have some background noise. You are not there more than 2 minutes when Bucky comes out, heading toward the kitchen in nothing but a pair of sweats. You try to shrink yourself so he doesn’t see you, but with the TV on, it was only a matter of time before he turns in your direction. When he does his eyes lock with yours and he slowly walks toward you.
“Hi” he says quietly.
You sit up, “Hi” you say back.
He looks relieved almost, but you think it’s just your exhaustion, you know he doesn’t care that you’re back. The awkward silence is driving you crazy, but he finally breaks it. “Wh-when did you get back?" he asks quietly.
"About an hour ago," you respond.
"What are you doing out here?”
You can’t help but let out a breathless laugh. “Well it's kinda hard to sleep when your neighbor is fucking the lights out of their girlfriend and she's loud as hell.” You spat allowing the anger of seeing him engulf you.
Bucky's shocked by your outburst and then looks guilty, and uncomfortable. “I.. uh sorry,” he says, taking a step toward you.
“Whatever. But don't worry I'll make sure to keep my distance for you both so that I don't make her uncomfortable again,” you say with venom in your voice.
His eyebrows shoot up at that comment. He hates that he forced you to hate him, though he can't blame you. He knows he fucked up, but he doesn't know if at this point he can fix it. He just stares at you with a mix of shock and despair, which makes you annoyed so you roll your eyes.
“Look, I’m tired and achy, so I’m going to sleep out here,” you say as you gently lay down and turn away from him.
All Bucky wants to do is kneel next to you and apologize for making you feel like this. He misses you, but with Dot in his room, he knows he can't. He hates that he put himself, and you, in this position. He just knows Dot is his only shot, so he wants... no needs to make it work with her. He looks at you one more time, sadness evident in his face, and walks back to his room.
The next morning you're in the kitchen, sitting between Steve and Sam, when Bucky walks in with Dot. Dot sees you and her smug smirk immediately goes right on her face.
“Baby, make me pancakes?” she says to Bucky in her squeaky baby voice.
You scoff loudly, and look at Sam, whose shaking his head and giving you a look that tells you he doesn’t like her either.
Bucky heard your scoff and looks at you, but your eyes were on Sam. If you want act like this, then he's game. He looked back at Dot and smiles.
“Of course, my Bella,” he says, looking back at you.
Your eyes shot to his when you heard the pet name he called her. That was your pet name, and you know he did that on purpose. You didn't think he would stoop so low, and honestly he didn't either. You can’t help the tears that spring to your eyes, which only makes Bucky regret what he did more. He opens his mouth to immediately apologize, but you quickly get up, ignoring the pain in your ribs, and leave the room.
Steve looks at Bucky in disappointment, and Sam looks like he wants to punch him. Bucky feels like absolute shit and didn't think it was possible to hate himself even more. Dot, however, looks happy as anything and ignores the fact that you left.
"Bucky, pancakes please," he squeaks.
Tony then walks in and informs everyone in the kitchen that there will be a party tomorrow night because he was just in the mood, before leaving and telling the rest of the team. Dot is so excited that her plan is working and she will get to be on display with THE Bucky Barnes in front of all the rich and famous at one of Tony Stark’s parties. Man when she decided to go after Bucky to help her status, she was worried he would see through her, but she found he was very easy to manipulate. I mean she was able to get rid of you in less than a day. It won't be long before she will have status enough to leave Bucky behind and move on to the next big name.
You didn’t want to go to the party, but Nat and Wanda made you. Even Steve and Sam told you they would protect you from Bucky and Dot, which is sweet so you agreed. Nat and Wanda helped you get dressed, as your ribs were still sore from the mission, and did your hair and make up. The three of you walk into the party, and head straight to Steve and Sam at the bar.
“Y/N, you look beautiful,” Steve said, causing you to blush.
“Thanks Stevie, you look great too.”
He smiles and hands you your favorite drink. “Listen, I know you and Bucky are having a hard time right now, and I know he is normally your partner at these things, but I thought I could be a good stand in and be your date for tonight. As friends of course,” he said a blush coming over his cheeks.
You smile and kiss him on the cheek, “I would love that Cap.”
You and Steve mostly stay with the group, chatting about this, that, and nothing, but all laughing and having a great time. Meanwhile, on the other side of the room, being dragged from person to person was Bucky. Dot was making sure everyone in the room saw her with him. It really was really annoying him, because felt like a prized horse with Dot. He started to question her motives for being with him He never liked parties parties, only liked to be with… you. You made them bearable. He couldn’t help looking over and notice how beautiful you looked. He saw you and your friends laughing and having a great time, and wanted nothing more but to stand there with you. He felt like he couldn't breath anymore with you gone from his life, and he hated himself for what he did to you.
The truth is, he missed you beyond words. He knew he made a mistake, ending your friendship, and tonight is only showing him more and more what an asshole he was. Question was could he fix it, or was it too late. Dot noticed where Bucky was staring and rolled her eyes seeing you and the rest of the group. She decided to continue to torture you so she took Bucky's hand leading him over to the group. She cleared her throat as she got closer, causing the laughter going on the stop. Everyone looked at her, with her smug face. She wrapped Bucky’s arms around her and held him to her.
“What’s so funny over here? Don’t you know this is a party and you are the Avengers? You should be mingling! Bucky and I have been a hit so far, so you guys should join in the fun!” she said. 
You quickly down your drink and look at Steve. 
“Stevie, want to dance?” you say, completely ignoring Dot. He nodded at you and took your hand, leading you out to the dance floor. Bucky looked between you and Steve and couldn’t help the jealousy he felt. Are you and Steve becoming a thing now? Has he pushed you to the point that you will take Steve away from him? He needs to get a closer look. He bent down to Dot, “Let’s dance,” he whispered, dragging her with him.
Steve held you in his arms as you moved to the slow ballad playing. You look over your shoulder to see Bucky and Dot also dancing close to you, Bucky frequently looking over and you and Steve. You rolled your eyes.
“Ignore them, Y/N.” Steve said quietly.
You blush, and look at Steve. “I’m sorry, I just hate her, and he... ” your words get caught in your throat.
“Yeah, she isn’t well liked by any of us, and I don't know what the hell he''s doing. I'm sure he will come around and regret what he's done to you. I'm pretty sure he has feelings for you, but feels like you wont reciprocate,” he said.
Tears start falling down your face. “I’m sorry Steve, but I think I need some air,” you say quickly.
Steve nodded and let you go, feeling bad that he made you cry. You quickly walk past Bucky and out of the ballroom to the balcony. Bucky watches you and saw that you were emotional. He wanted to follow but knew Dot wouldn't let him. He excused himself and went to talk to Steve about what happened. Dot was not happy and stomped off the dance floor like a child.
Meanwhile, you try and contain your emotions and took deep breaths, looking out over the compound property. You really wish you stuck to your guns and didn’t come tonight. You hated seeing them together, especially her. You wish you knew why he took her side, especially after what Steve just said. Is there a chance he did have similar feelings to you? At this point is it even worth caring, because he broke your heart, and you have no idea if you can trust him again.
“Ya know, for an Avenger, you’re a pretty easy opponent to beat,” you hear Dot’s voice from behind you.
You immediately tense up, but refuse to turn and look at her. She laughs, “I mean I thought you would have put up a little bit more of a fight when I made him dump your pathetic ass, but I guess you are just... too weak,” she taunts.
Now you turned and looked at her, rage pouring through your veins.
“Excuse me?” was all you could say.
Dot continues to walk toward you with her smug smile. “I mean, I saw how much you were in love with him when we first met. I knew I had to get rid of you in order for my plan to work. He spoke of nothing but you for the weeks we were talking to each other, so I knew you were trouble. I thought you would have fought for him, but obviously you know a lost cause when you see one.”
She laughs again, while you are shaking in anger. “What plan did you have exactly?" you ask angrily.
"Oh you know, having Bucky, a infamous Avenger by my side to be seen, go to Tony Stark parties and meet the rich and famous, and when I finally find a richer more impressive man, leave Bucky for him. It's a win win... for me. Bucky was so easy to manipulate too. I made him think he had a chance at forever with me, which no man does without the wad of cash to go with it. But I knew I could get him to do anything for me. I mean when he came to my house that night I met you, all I had to do was I tell him how uncomfortable you made me. How I didn’t like how close you guys were, and he bought it. Hook. Line. Sinker,” She says with a proud smile on her face.
“Now I'm on step two... be at Tony Stark parties with THE Bucky Barnes, rubbing elbows with the rich and famous, making contacts, and setting myself up for success. Meanwhile you get to sulk about the man who didn’t choose you.”
Just as you were about to open your mouth, you hear, “What… the… fuck!”
You and Dot turn your heads to Bucky, who was standing at the door, glaring at Dot. Dot lost her smug smile, and looked panicked. 
“Bucky… h-h-how long were you standing there?” she asks, fear evident in her voice.
Bucky walks up and stands next to you, glaring down at the red head. “Long enough to know you are a manipulative bitch, who's only using me, and coerced me into losing the woman I'm crazy about,” he growls as you gasp at his words.
You see him trying to control his emotions. You wonder if you should calm him down, but decide against it. You slowly step away from them, and start heading toward the door. You turn around to see Bucky still glaring at Dot, but can't handle anymore excitement tonight. You walk back through the ballroom and head straight to the elevators. You make it back to your room, and decide you needed a nice long hot shower to wash this whole evening away and think about what you just heard Bucky say and what it all meant.
As you stand under the hot water you think about the last 2+ weeks. Hearing Bucky's declaration about you, finding out he has a girlfriend, losing him, the mission, coming back to Bucky still being with that bitch, Bucky calling her "my Bella", and then this whole fucked up evening ending with Bucky basically stating he wanted you too. how are you supposed to wrap your head around any of this. After spending probably close to 30 minutes in the shower, you change into sweats and a t-shirt and walk back into your room. You stop short when you see Bucky sitting on your bed, his head in his hands. He looks up at you, tears running down his face. You swallow the lump in your throat, but don’t move.
“I… I’m so fucking sorry, Y/N. I know it’s not enough, because what I did was the worst thing I could do, but I'm really fucking sorry,” He whispers through his tears.
You want to go over and hug him, but you're too hurt, so you just nod. Bucky shakes his head, closing his eyes for a moment. When he opens them again, he stands up and walks toward you. You tense up, but remain where you are.
“Y/N, ending our friendship was the worst thing I've ever done in my life. You're my best girl, and I should've stuck by you, and defended you. I would give you an excuse, not that there really is one, but you probably wouldn’t believe me anyway,” he says.
When you don’t respond, he turns toward the door. As he is about to grab the handle, he hears, “Try me.”
He turns around and looks at you. He turns back toward you and sits back down on the bed. He motions for you to come and sit, which you do, but you make sure there is plenty of space between you. He swallows the lump in his throat. 
“I… uh… I never thought anyone would ever love me. Not even in a friendship way, besides Steve. When you became my friend, I felt so lucky, and I wanted to hold on to that feeling forever. You became the most important person in my life. I… I fell in love with you.”
You can’t help but gape at him. He loves you?! What the fuck! He loves you but then why all this? You go to say something, but he quickly continues.
“I know you couldn't feel the same way, which is why I tried to find someone to take that place. I met Dot, and she was nice and flirty, and made me feel normal. I thought she actually liked me, but apparently I was just a pawn in her scheme to become rich and famous,” He scoffs at himself, shaking his head.
He looks at you again. “She manipulated the shit out of me, which hurts more than I can say, but not as much as seeing the pain you had for these last few weeks. It’s really no excuse, but it's the truth. She told me that she was falling for me, and I was just so blindly happy to find someone else to fill the hole I had. The hole that was really made for you. She told me to do something and I did it because I wanted to keep her happy. I just wish I had snapped out of it when she told me to end my friendship with you."
You stay silent wanting to hear every word.
"When I did, and you ran off, I knew it wasn’t right. I actually went up to your room after my work out to apologize, but you had already left for the mission. I thought maybe it was for the best. Dot and I continued to get closer, which I thought was good, but it was all a lie,” he growled. “When you came home and I saw that you were alive, I was so relieved. I was so worried about you while you were away, but you were so cold to me. I know I deserved it, but I never thought I would see that. So, I got angry and thats why I called her ‘my bella’. I knew that would cause a reaction, but when I saw your face, I immediately regretted it. I never called Dot that name besides that time. Not that it makes it better," he says.
“Tonight, when I saw you laughing with our friends, I wanted to be by your side, with my hand around your waist like all the other parties. I wanted to dance with you, and when I saw you and Steve, I got…. jealous. I… I’m an asshole. I don’t deserve your forgiveness or your friendship. I’m sorry.”
Before you could answer, he left the room, leaving your door open. You sat there for a moment thinking about everything he said. The one thing that stands out is that he loved you, but didn’t realize you loved him too. But you didn’t know if you should just forgive him, when he hurt you so bad.
You suddenly found yourself outside his door. You knocked, listening for his footsteps. When you didn’t hear them, you tried his door, which was unlocked. You peeked your head inside and saw Bucky laying on his stomach, his face in his pillow, quietly crying. Your heart broke, as you quietly entered his room and closed his door. You went to the other side of the bed, and laid next to him, staring at the ceiling. 
“I can’t just forgive you for the pain you caused me, Bucky. You broke my heart more than once in the last few weeks, and I didn’t even understand why. I thought we were stronger than that, but I guess I was wrong.”
You sigh and look at Bucky, who has his face turned towards you, tears streaming down his face. 
“But you were wrong too. I’ve been in love with you for so long, and I thought you didn’t feel the same, but I guess we are both idiots,” you say with a laugh.
You turn your body towards him. 
“I can’t forgive you…” Bucky closes his eyes in pain. “… at least not yet.” You say quietly. Bucky’s eyes shot open and he sits up, staring at you. “Not yet?” he asks, hopefully. You give him a small smile and nod. 
“You have a lot of making up for how you made me feel, Bucky, but I love you. I’m in love with you, and I want to spend the rest of my life in your arms. But… it’s going to take time. A lot of time fore me to trust you again,” you say, as you sit up and look at him.
He moves closer to you. “I will give you as much time as you need, as long as I know there is a chance I can be with you. I love you so much Y/N.”
You put your palm to his cheek. “I love you too.” You say before bringing him in for a small peck on his lips.
Bucky started to deepen the kiss, but you pulled away. 
“I should go,” you say, as you get off the bed and walk to the door. You turn back and look at Bucky, who looks disappointed that you are leaving. “Goodnight,” you say, before leaving the room.
Over the next six months Bucky worked his ass off to prove to you he was true and that he loved you. You kept him at arms length for awhile, even though it hurt you both. Then you slowly started to allow him in, but not completely. You would only hang out with him in public settings with other people around, much to Bucky's dismay. After a few months, you both started to slowly go back to being friends, and then best friends again. Neither of you ever wanting to bring up Dot again, who disappeared thank god.
Today, you're sitting in the common room, flipping through possible things to watch on Netflix. “Ugh, there is nothing new that I want to watch!” you yell.
You hear a deep chuckle from the kitchen, before Bucky walks into the common room with a big bowl of popcorn. 
“Just pick something, it doesn’t have to be new, Bells,” he says, as he sits next you and wraps his metal arm around you.
You settle on “Stranger Things”, and snuggle into Bucky. After 2 episodes, you look up and notice Bucky is staring at you.
“What?” you ask.
He smiles at you, “I was just thinking… I don’t know if you would want to, or if you just want to keep things as they are… but… um… w-would you want to go out on a date with me?” he asks.
You sit up and look at him. He looks so adorably nervous, that you can’t help but smile. 
“Absolutely. I think you've been patient with my punishment, and honestly, I've been waiting for you to get the guts to ask me out. But on one condition,” you say.
Bucky nods, “Name it, my Bella.”
You smile, "We continue to go at my pace. No rushing into things just because we know our feelings. I need to know you are willing to continue being patient. And also... we never go to that pizza place again, and you better drive me home after every date," you say with a fake glare.
Bucky laughs, "Belle, you will never have to walk home alone again, and yes I accept going slow. I know I still have a lot to make up for, but I'm glad you are giving me another chance."
"Yeah, I know, but we'll get there eventually," you say with a smile before you both hug.
It took awhile before you let him kiss you again, and even longer before you slept together. Bucky took everything in stride and you both eventually enjoyed a long lasting loving relationship.
--
Some people might not like that we forgave him, but in my head he went through the punishment to deserve the forgiveness. Feedback is appreciated!
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sunnymoonxx · 2 months
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❝what was rule number #2 again❞ I.| bucky barnes x reader
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pairing: tfatws bucky x reader summary: messing around in banner's lab, the night before your mission wasn't as good an idea as you thought, and you begin to question your actions the moment you step out of it. things worsen when you realize the super soldier serum isn't immune to an unknown contagious disease. warnings: sex pollen, no warnings this part, the II one? hahaha
a/n: I may have insulted the reader a few times in the beginning, so I apologize for that. but let's be honest, we'd do the same. I decided to split this fic into two parts because if I wrote it all into one part, it'd have 10k words. I'm not an english native speaker, so forgive me my sins and bad grammar if you find something.
m.list
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You weren't stupid. But you also weren't exactly smart. If you were, you would've minded your own business, stayed in the gym, and went through the plan for tomorrow's mission. Maybe even go to bed a little sooner, to be ready for the next day's alarm. But Banner was away for a business trip, and seeing his lab silent and alone didn't exactly sing you lullabies to sleep. That's why you found yourself standing in the heart of it at 3 a.m., in your pajamas, praying everyone was asleep. It was well known around the compound that Banner's and Stark's labs were a faraway island, and anybody with a brain would circle around them. But you were an excellent swimmer and sharks didn't scare you.
10 hours later, you realised why Banner turned green every time someone even glared the glass door of his science play room. You were a fast swimmer but not exactly a bright one. The only bright thing related to you was that you were easily struck by it. And the glowing pink flowers in Doc's terrarium took you down faster than the sharks. It was bright pink with purple shadows. It reminded you of passionflower, but it was bigger. Way bigger, and you weren't sure if you were hallucinating, but the feeling of the flower's filaments moving was too strong. They were moving in waves, then circles, then each moved in its own way. It was mesmerising.
It was too late before you realized you moved the flower out of its enclosure to get a closer look at it. The smell hit you hard, filling your brain with colorful fog. You smelled a dash of cinnamon, mixed with ginger and lavender. You couldn't miss the powerful vanilla and pumpkin filling up the room. You didn't realize how bad the consequences of smelling Doc's flower would be until you came undone under your fingers nearly seven times. And it still wasn't enough. The scheduled time of your and Barnes' meeting was quickly approaching, and your skin didn't feel less on fire than it did two hours ago.
You managed to get out of the sweaty mattress and put some clothes on you, loose ones, hoping that your skin could breathe a little. You prayed some air would cool you down, clear your head, and slap some sense into you. It was now obvious why Banner was so determined not to let anyone close his lab. He was experimenting with aphrodisiacs, and you, unwillingly, became one of his lab rats. Thoughts didn't stop multiplying in your head until one landed steadily on its feet. Tony has been visiting Doc's labs the last few weeks, five minutes on the dot after curfew. You knew because you were always stationed on your balcony, which gave you a clear view of the other building, and its glass windows didn't hide much. It only became pitch black when Tony came in, and Banner didn't even flinch when he heard the door shut.
Chuckle left your lips when you connected the dots, ignoring how amusing you must look for Barnes, sitting right next to him.
"Something funny?" he asked, not dropping his gaze off of you. You were now on your way to the target's last seen place, being lucky enough to get a ride in Tony's self-driven car. You wanted to drown him in kisses because you can only imagine the suffering if you had to walk all the way from the compound to the other side of the city. Your skin was still on fire, your hair was sticking to your neck, and salty drops chased each other on your skin. You certainly were an amusing sight to Bucky. Or a terrifying one. You wished he got used to it by now. After all these years of fighting against each other, then with each other, and now forced to fight by each other's side, he saw you through worse conditions. But as far as he knew, you were locked in your room all week. You had no reason to look like you had an early meeting with the reaper.
"Just, thinking," you mumbled back at him, forcing yourself to keep your head rested against your seat, begging your body to not betray you for looking back at your partner. Your body fighting the chemicals in your body, you could only imagine how it would end if you stared at Barnes for more than five seconds. Worse, let alone if you touched him. You read about aphrodisiacs and scientists' failed attempts to know what you were going through. You were prepared to die before touching Barnes.
You were secretly jealous. It wasn't fair of you, but Barnes' serum running through his veins protected him from anything related. You almost abandoned your morals, but the pain you were going through justified it. You had no idea how you were going to focus on the mission, communicate with James, and, if it came to it, fight the target. You could only focus on the heat between your legs and how touch-starved you were. And your, undeniably, attractive coworker wasn't helping the case.
You and James had a complicated history. Both born in the 40s and dated for a while before he fell from the train. Years later, he comes to kill you for Howard's successful experiment on you. Immortality would definitely suit HYDRA and their planned assassinations. James, back then, the Winter Soldier, failed to capture you, so they decided your family's fate. And your friends. Then, years later, Howard's. You forgave him. All of it. Because you knew it wasn't him. But when he came back from Wakanda, with no traces of HYDRA in him, and didn't spare you a glance, you couldn't forgive him that. Seventy years of tolerating the actions HYDRA made him do, and he couldn't even look at you. It broke your heart but rather to act like a cunt than a weepy baby, begging for attention that will never come.
"Well then, do it fast. We're almost there." You hear his grumpy voice, making the butterflies in your stomach double their count. The decades-old memories of you together overwhelmed your brain like a tsunami. You couldn't swim out of that. The way his tongue circled your clit as you played with his hair at the theatre restroom. Or when he made you ride his face with Steve in the house. The way he pounded into you against the wall so you wouldn't forget him when he gets shipped out the next morning. And the way he had to cover your mouth that night at the bar, celebrating his unit's rescue. Now he was sitting millimetres away from you, and he wouldn't have done any of it. You still hoped, subconsciously, he'd dick you down like he did all those years ago. But that was a fantasy. Very vivid, real fantasy.
"Yes, sir," you let out, closing your eyes, tugging on your shirt so your fingers wouldn't accidentally slip in between your thighs. You didn't wanna make a scene. Even tho at some point, you knew you would.
You didn't catch James' hungry gaze when he heard those words slip from your mouth. At the back of his head, he reminiscent the amount of times it was him, slipping out of it.
It took you exactly 17 minutes before you got yourself out of Tony's car. You accidentally grinded yourself on his leather seats, causing you to accidentally moan, and of course, Barnes caught it. He'd never miss that sweet sound leaving your lips. At nights, he wished he'd made you sound like that, even louder. But that was ages ago, and you were over him. It was the only thing that made sense to him.
Five minutes into your romantic stroll to the target's office, the wetness in your panties got worse. You figured the more you moved, the less it hurt, but the pleasure doubled. And the Avengers training lessons didn't exactly cover how to act if you're orgasming every five seconds just because your thighs rubbed against each other.
Correction, you didn't actually cum. It was more of a frustrating edging that made you wanna rip out your hair. You were sure Barnes had already figured something was off or had at least suspected something. The suppressed moans and the tugging on your crotch weren't exactly subtle.
"Alright," he stopped walking, a few meters away from a huge building. It was surrounded by a deep forest, straight from a horror movie. "he was last seen inside. If Steve's correct, we should..." You kept nodding, not actually paying attention to what he was saying. It was the way his metal arm moved when he talked and the way his fingers curled while explaining the plan. You never got the answer to your question if he could feel through his amputated arm. He had to, you thought. You heard him groan every time someone pulled it too hard. You were embarrassed how much it roused you when you heard him whimper in pain, but it was also one of the things that circled your head when you were alone in your room.
You'd imagine, would it feel different. It would definitely be cold, rougher, you suspected faster. And with the serum running in his veins, he'd definitely last longer. That, you were one hundred percent sure, for it was Natasha's moans you heard for over two days after she and Steve finally hit it off. But Nat was also a super soldier. Bucky would probably tire you out by the 2nd round. But you were willing to risk it.
"If you're not gonna be listening to me, then you can turn around and go back." Was the first thing you heard after you forced yourself out of Bucky's hand around your throat fantasies. It probably wasn't the best idea, but seeing Bucky frustrated and annoyed by your incompetence made you feel things. And you wanted more.
"Whatever you want, Sergeant." You smirked, walking past him towards the building. His smell punched you in the face, making your walls clench around nothing. Fuck. Your self-control was harder to put in check. You were sure in a few minutes it'd be non-existent.
"Whatever is your problem today," you heard him behind you. You didn't look at him, focusing on keeping a steady pace towards the building so you could finish the job, get home where you could fuck yourself to oblivion. No one, but your fingers were currently available. And even they couldn't sometimes do the job you needed. But you knew whose would.
"I'm talking to you." Your heart dropped when his hand landed on your shoulder. Your skin got warmer again, and the pulse between your legs was impossible to ignore. You didn't know if you wanted to kill him or fuck him.
Ideally, both.
Turning around, you found the strength to twist his arm, finding out it was his human one, making it easier to push him back. He looked so taken back that it was amusing. But not amusing enough to stop the aching of your cunt.
"Touch me again," and I won't answer for the consequences. You wanted to add. But you didn't. Instead, you stared back at him, praying to god you'd drop dead or something would happen to stop the throbbing pain. You wanted to push your pants down and do something about it, but Bucky's presence wouldn't let you. It would, seventy years ago.
God, the number of times he made you rub yourself in front of him, fuck yourself while he watched. Couldn't he do it now? You'd happily obey.
"You've been acting distant ever since morning," he said, taking a step closer. "I just wanna know what's wrong," he said, lowering his voice at the end. You were sure it was just the stupid plant making you see things, but Bucky's dark eyes were hard to miss. Or the sweat on his forehead. Or the way he clenched his jaw when his eyes dropped to your lips.
Your heart sank. Holy fuck.
You couldn't help but laugh. It was, after all, comical. You looked manic but that didn't bother you. You felt so many emotions at once that you struggled to choose one.
"What the hell are you doing," you heard his voice interrupt your laugh. You were out of your mind. Your legs weak and sweaty, your cunt covered in your wetness, your head filled with migraine, skin on fire, and thoughts surrounding only one thing. And now, cherry on top, you realize Banner discovered an aphrodisiacs that make the super soldier serum its bitch. James motherfucking Barnes joined the lab rats of Banner's sex research.
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imtryingbuck · 3 months
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Fifteen
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Pairing: Bucky Barnes x fem!Reader
Summary: Bucky comes from a well respected family, he falls in love with a girl who prefers the simple things in life. Follow their journey through the years.
Word count: 4,736
Warnings: fluff, angst, heavy use of pet names. Bucky and y/n argue and that’s a warning in itself. Brock rumlow, Bucky being a bad friend. Swearing. Bullying.
A/N: No description of reader other than she has curly hair.
Masterlist   Series Masterlist
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Like every morning she waited outside for Bucky, Steve and Sam to arrive so they could all walk to school together. Y/n was so excited when she found out that she was going to be going to school with her two friends, though she was a year below them.
Sam was the boys’ friend first and when he was introduced to Y/n he instantly became her friend, throwing his arm around her he winked at her causing the girl to blush. Bucky wasn’t happy.
Sighing she checked her watch, the same one Bucky had brought her for her birthday last year, they was late.
She didn’t want to be in trouble for being late so she decided to head off on her own, as she pulled her bag further up her shoulder she kept her head down whilst walking the streets.
“Y/n! Y/n slow down!” Sam’s booming voice came from behind her.
“I can’t I’m going to be late!” She shouted back to him.
“H-hold on, Jesus woman you’re making me run today aren’t you?”
Feeling his arms wrap themselves around her waist she comes to a halt. “Where’s Ducky?”
“Ah he, never mind. Steve hurry up!”
“Sam where is he? Is he ill? Oh god he is isn’t he?”
“No Sugar he’s not, he’s just not walking with us this morning”
“Hey Y/n/n” Steve panted as he pulls his friend into a hug.
“Hi Stevie where’s Ducky?”
“With Dot”
“Dude!” Sam scolded.
“Wh-who’s Dot?”
“His girlfriend” Steve admits rubbing the back of his neck. “I’m sorry”
“H-he has a girlfriend? Oh”
She couldn’t understand why her heart hurt at hearing that.
“If it makes you feel any better, me and Sam don’t like her”
“I want to go to school now”
Throughout her lessons she couldn’t find it in herself to concentrate, he had a girlfriend and didn’t tell her - why didn’t he tell her? Was she pretty? Did she know who she was? Was they going to be friends still?
“-Y/n!”
“Huh? Sorry Sir”
“Class is over…go”
“Right sorry Sir, see you tomorrow”
Shoving all her things into her school bag she heads down to wait outside the cafeteria for the boys to show. Like that morning she checks her watch and sighing, they’re late.
Her stomach growled and giving up waiting for them to show she heads into the cafeteria when she comes to a stop.
They were already there, sat at the table that was unofficially reserved for the four of them.
Her eyes watered at seeing a brunette sat in her place, next to her Ducky. She watched as he threw his arm around her and pulled her into him just like he always did to her. She watched as Sam and Steve laugh about something the girl said.
“Ow, I’m sorry” she stutters out after she’s pushed over.
“Move out of the way freak” Brock. The schools bully. Or as Y/n called him behind his back ‘Brock the rock’ no it wasn’t a compliment at his muscles but an insult, Brock rhymed with rock and rocks where dumb just like Brock.
“I-I’m sorry” she stutters as she tries to move out of the way.
“Aw you going to cry you little freak?” He says loudly catching everyone’s attention.
“N-no-“
“I think she is Brock” laughed Jack, another bully who followed Brock wherever he went.
“The little freak is going to cry!” Brock boomed causing her to flinch.
He takes it one step further by pushing her in to Jack who then shoves her away violently back to Brock, back and forth she was pushed between the two.
Y/n’s frantic eyes met Bucky’s who had been watching the whole thing along with everyone else. She nearly burst out crying when all he did was look down.
“Looks like your little boyfriend isn’t coming to the rescue this time freak” Brock whispers as he clutches her shirt tightly in his grip just before pushing her roughly onto the ground.
She waits until Brock and his lackeys leave before standing up, looking up towards the table she’s normally sat at with her friends her heart breaks when she sees the back of Bucky’s head and Steve and Sam looking down at their food.
Running out of the cafeteria she runs to the bathroom where she locks herself away until the loud shrill of the bell goes off.
Throughout the day she was glad she didn’t see any of the boys or Brock and Jack as she moved from one class to the next. Stuck in her own mind she couldn’t understand why neither one of her friends stuck up for her like they’ve done before whenever Brock was acting tough now that Tony had left school.
Were they my friends now? Why didn’t Bucky tell me he had a girlfriend? Why didn’t Steve and Sam stick up for me?
They were some of the many questions that swirled around her head as her last teacher Mr Levinson droned on.
When the bell rang throughout the school she took her time in packing her things, waiting for everyone to leave.
“Y/n?”
“Yes sir?”
“Is everything okay?”
“Yes sir, why?”
“Well you’re normally the first one out of the class” he chuckles.
“Oh. No everything’s okay sir” she smiled up at him as she brought the strap of her bag up her arm.
“Okay, I’ll see you tomorrow remember you’ve got me for two periods”
“I know sir, I’ll see you tomorrow” waving bye to her favourite teacher she walks out of the class, slowly walking to the entrance. Like Mr Levinson said she was normally the first one out of class, and normally she was running through the halls to wait outside for the boys to arrive so they could head to the sweet shop on the corner of Main Street but today she was in no rush, no rush in seeing the spot she always waited at to being empty.
As she stepped out of the doors she felt stupid for hoping that they would have waited for her, they hadn’t.
As she walked past the sweet shop she heard Sam’s loud laughter filter through the gap in the door, her heart pounding loudly in her chest as she saw Sam, Steve and Bucky all laughing in the store, she swore her heart broke when she saw Bucky grab ahold of the brunettes hand from lunch and pulling her to place his lips to hers. Y/n brought her fingers to her lips softly touching them wondering how the girl in the store felt kissing Bucky.
Shaking her head and wiping her tears she walks off before any of them sees her.
“Hello angel-angel what’s wrong?” Howard asks when she walks in and straight pass him without saying hello or telling him how her day went, or better yet without her handing him her packet full to the brim of sweets so he could pick one - or if she was letting him feel cheeky two - out.
“Nothing dad I’m going to do my homework”
“Angel come here, or don’t I’ll just follow you” he mutters following her upstairs and into her room.
“Dad, please I just want to do my homework and go to sleep”
“Not until you tell me what’s happened? You’re not normally back yet, is Lloyds closed?”
“No. I-I just really need to get this homework done”
“Where’s the boys?”
“I-dad please”
“Not until you tell me what’s going on? You seem to forget angel I know you and I know something is wrong, so spill”
“Duc-Bucky has a girlfriend…”
“Oh…oh. I’m sorry angel”
“It’s okay, I just don’t have any friends anymore” she shrugs, looking at the photograph she had hanging up on her wall. Her, Bucky, Sam and Steve standing in front of the stall at the fair ground, Bucky’s arm wrapped around her waist as her hand was on his chest. All four of them smiling widely at the camera as Maria takes the photo.
“Of course you’ll still have friends angel, the boys will still be your friends”
“No they won’t. Steve and Sam were friends with Bucky before they were my friends”
“Bucky’s still you friend darling just because he has a girlfriend doesn’t mean shit-don’t tell your mother I just swore in front of you”
“I won’t” she giggles.
“Is there anything else you’re not telling me?”
She hadn’t found the courage to tell her parents about the bullying or how bad it was, knowing how they would react she didn’t want to make it any worse than it already was.
“No dad everything’s okay I promise”
“Okay…well tomorrow is Friday and you know what that means don’t you? That’ll prove that the boys are still your friends”
Shortly after Howard leaves so she could start her homework. Not that she does it.
Friday, tomorrow is Friday. Every weekend her, Steve and Sam heads to Bucky’s house for a sleepover. Was she still invited? Was Bucky’s girlfriend going to be there?
Her head pounded and her eyes stung so she climbed into bed falling asleep as her stomach growled in hunger it only then occurred to her that she hadn’t ate anything since breakfast, it didn’t stop her from falling into a restless sleep.
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The next morning she moved along with the motions. Getting dressed, brushing her hair and teeth, eating breakfast, she puts her shoes on pressing a kiss to her parents their cheeks she says her goodbyes.
She hesitates outside whether she should wait for the boys to show or not she finally forces her legs to move, she wasn’t going to be waiting on them. Not anymore.
“Oi freak!” Brock shouted as he walks across the road to where she was, she carried on walking keeping her head down.
“Freak don’t ignore him” Jack says.
She felt hands on her back before she was shoved down on to the ground scraping her hands and her knees. “W-what do you want?”
“Your lunch”
“No”
“What?” Don’t ask her Brock she’s just as shocked as you at her sticking up for herself.
“I said no, are you deaf?” Shut up shut up shut up her brain screams at her.
“Funny, don’t worry freak you’re going to regret this” Brock says before picking her bag up and throwing it over a fence.
Watching the pair walk off she stands up and looks down at her knees, great they’re bleeding. Opening the gate she walks over to the door and knocks, waiting patiently she waits for the owner to open up.
“Hello?”
“Hi Sir, my bag got thrown over your fence could I please get it?”
“Sure…”
“It’s over that fence” she points at the wooden fence that leads to the backyard she assumes.
“Oh, yeah sure hold on I’ll get the key” he walks back inside and returns quickly with the key “are you okay?”
“Yes Sir, are you?”
“I’m fine but I’m talking about your knees and hands, they’re bleeding”.
“Bullies Sir”
“Oh, nasty little parasites aren’t they?”
“Yes Sir” she giggles “thank you Sir” she says as he hands over her bag back to her.
“You’re welcome and hey listen don’t let them get to you okay? It will get better soon I can promise you that”
“H-how do you know?”
“I was bullied when I was at school but here I am owning a business that continues to grow even long after I’ve retired” he smiles softly.
“Wow, I-I don’t know why they pick on me I’ve never done anything wrong to them”
“Because they see the potential in you and they are scared because they haven’t gotten any so they spend their time and energy trying to bring you down”
“Oh, well I wish they would stop”
“They will you just have to wait them out”
“Thank you Sir, I best get going I’m…crap I’m late”
“Go go, and call me Stan”
“Y/n, bye Mr Stan”
“Well it’s actually Mr Lee but go your late” the older man chuckles.
“I’m going I’m going” she laughs waving at him.
Practically running to school she runs to her class “I’m sorry Miss” 
“It’s okay Y/n just make sure it doesn’t happen again”
“It won’t Miss I promise”
Ms Ford was an older teacher who taught maths whether it’s because of her age or because of how long she had been teaching for she simply didn’t care if you was late or not, as long as you didn’t cause any trouble then it was fine.
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When the bell rang signalling for it to be lunch she slowly moved towards the bathroom so she could eat, on her way there she saw two of Brock’s friends walking towards her before she had a chance to do anything they grabbed her arms and dragged her backwards, leading her into the cafeteria.
No one blinks an eye or tries to help her out.
She’s shoved onto her knees in front of Brock, she shifts and in the corner of her eye she sees Bucky, Steve and Sam all staring.
“This little freak had the balls to talk back to me this morning and well I can’t let that happen” he told everyone. “Stand the freak up”
She’s roughly pulled up by her arms “did you all know that her dad killed her mom? Or that this little freak was in an orphanage?” He laughs.
“Shut up Brock” she says, mentally slapping herself for talking back.
“Ooh the freak speaks once again. Hey Bucky doesn’t this dog belong to you?” She’s spun around so she has no choice but to look at him, who once again just stares down.
“No? Not going to say anything? Wow some friend you are” Brock chuckles. “Hey guys want to see what she’s hiding under her shirt? My mom was a nurse who had to touch this freak”
Y/n’s eyes widen and she starts to struggle against the hold that the two boys had on her arms. “No no no Brock I’m sorry I’m sorry you don’t have to do this! I’m sorry”
Ignoring her pleads he just smirks at her “hold her steady boys”
“Brock stop!” Steve says shakily from the table.
“Shut up or your next. Stop struggling freak”
“Please s-stop! Please-D-Ducky help! No no no no no please no” she screams out as Brock rips her shirt off leaving her scarred back exposed to nearly the whole school.
“Disgusting isn’t it?” Brock laughs.
The murmurs and laughters are drowned out by the roaring of blood filling her ears, the moment she’s dropped to the ground she wraps her hands over her chest and runs out of the cafeteria and out of the school. Her vision was blurred as she ran faster than she’s ever ran before.
“Y/n-oh my lord, come here darling” an older voice says that she recognised from earlier.
“M-m-Mr Stan”
“I’m not going to hurt you, I’m going to put my coat around you okay?” As soon as the material was around her she collapsed into his arms.
“Darling le-let’s get you into the car and I’ll take you home okay?”
Everything moves in a blur, she doesn’t even realise that Mr Stan pulls up to her house or that he’s knocking on the door talking to her father or that her father comes rushing out of the house.
“Angel, angel come here”
“D-Dada” she cries clinging to him.
Howard lifts her out of the car and takes her into the house calling out for Maria who comes out of the kitchen. He takes her upstairs to her room where he lays her gently on the bed his heart breaking at the way she still clings on to him.
Leaving Maria to help Y/n get dressed and clean her injuries up he heads down the stairs to where Stan was still waiting.
“Come with me Stan” leading the older man into his office “what happened?”
“I met her this morning when she knocked on my door a bully had thrown her bag over my fence, we spoke a little before she left for school”
“A bully? Y/n’s being bullied?”
“So she says Sir”
“Howard, you know this Stan. Anyway carry on”
“Well I was driving home when she ran out into the road clutching…covering her chest. Her top half was naked. I got out and put my coat around her and brought her home”
“D-Did she say anything?”
“No, she just cried”
“Thank you for bringing her home Stan, here here’s some money” Howard pulls out a huge wad of money from the draw of his desk.
“Howard, I don’t want your money son. She’s a sweet girl who doesn’t deserve half of the shit she’s gone through”
“Yo-you know?”
“Well…yes. She was in the newspapers. Just make sure she’s okay for me, I’ll see myself out goodbye Howard”
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“Y/n, angel please talk to us” Howard pleads as he sits next to Maria on Y/ns bed.
“I-it doesn’t matter”
“Of course it does sweetie, we need to deal with this” Maria speaks softly.
“I’m a freak! My back is disgusting. I-I should of died when my real dad tried to kill me”
Taken back by her confession Maria clutches her chest with shaky hands, Howard stutters trying to find the right words.
“A-Angel you don’t mean that”
“I do. I’m tired of being bullied, I’ve tried dad to make friends I have I swear but nobody wants to be friends with a freak. I don’t get why they call me names or steal my lunch or push me into things. I hate going to school. I hate Sam. I hate Steve. An-and I hate James. I hate my life, I wish I was dead” a shuddering breath leaves her lips as her whole body trembles.
She didn’t mean to tell them about the bullying or about how she hated her friends because even though they didn’t talk to her or stick up for her she didn’t hate them, they were her only friends.
She definitely didn’t mean to tell them how she wished she was dead.
“Y/n Stark you take that back!” Maria scolds.
“No! And let’s be honest mom the only reason you two adopted me was out of pity and because George probably asked you too just so James could keep me around” her voice raised and shook, mentally scolding herself for saying that because now she had to sit there and watch as the tears gathered in her mommas eyes.
“Is-is that what you really think?”
“It wasn’t pity that we felt when we adopted you Y/n, it was because I genuinely believed that you had a very special place in our family and I still believe that even after all these years. George never asked us to take you in.” Howard speaks.
“I-I-oh momma I’m so sorry! Dada I swear I didn’t mean it” she cries her eyes bouncing from one parent to the next.
“Angel, it’s okay. Oh sweetheart come here” Howard opens his arms waiting for his daughter to climb into them, rubbing his hand up and down her back not flinching or feeling disgusted when he feels the scars under her shirt.
“I’m sorry” she repeats over and over.
“Sweetheart we love you and just because you’re not biologically ours doesn’t make a difference, you are our daughter through and through” Maria says softly wiping the tears that fall onto her cheeks.
“I-I don’t want to go to school anymore momma please don’t make me go back”
“We’ll talk about it later okay? Get some sleep and we’ll talk about everything” Maria promises watching as she nods and climbs back into bed. 
A few hours later after Maria had managed to calm down Howard who was quite literally on a war path there was a knock on the door, Maria walked over to the door opening it she saw Sam and Steve standing there with sheepish looks on their faces.
“What are you two doing here?”
“W-we want to see Y/n, is-is she okay?”
“She is now. Where is James?”
“With Dot…”
“Charming. I don’t think Y/n will want to see you tonight, please leave”
“Miss Maria we’re really sorry, please tell Y/n that.”
“I will do. Goodbye boys”
Watching as the boys walk away with their tails in between their legs she shakes her head, she hates turning them away but when it comes to her daughter she’ll do everything to protect her, even if it’s from her friends.
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The next day Y/n woke with a pounding headache, the memories of what she had said to her parents made her stomach hurt. She hated herself for making her mom cry, seeing the hurt flash in her parents eyes made her want to burst out crying.
She never wanted her parents to find out that she was being bullied afraid it made her look weak, made her look like she needed them to save her again. She wanted to be strong just like Tony, be the social butterfly just like her brother instead of being social outcast that she was. 
Y/n had tried to fit in she really did, she tried to be someone that she wasn’t. She found it hard to be around the other girls who were interested in make up, the latest fashion and boys, none of them things she cared about.
Okay maybe she was interested in boys she noticed them obviously, especially one in particular. Bucky.
But sadly that didn’t matter anymore, not now that he had a girlfriend.
Y/n preferred the simpler things that life had to offer, she never cared for all pretty dresses her mom would get her or all of the expensive things her dad would give her. She preferred getting mud all over her, climbing trees, talking to the animals she encountered. Her hair was always messy and nine out of ten times her hair would have leaves tangled in it. Her clothes would have grass stains on them from where she would either roll around in the grass or from where she would kneel down getting closer to the insects she came upon.
She never truly understood why the other kids called her a freak, maybe she was but that didn’t matter right? She had a heart and feelings and she was just the same as everyone else.
“Angel, James is here to see you” Howard knocks on her bedroom door pulling her out of her trance.
Might as well as get this over and done with.
“Let him in dad”
“I’m just downstairs if you need me angel”
“Okay”
She sits up so she��s leaning against the headboard, twisting her ring that her dad had gotten her when she had gotten an A on a test. She watches as the door handle goes down a little bit and the door comes open revealing her Ducky.
“Hi Bun-Y/n” he says shyly as he shuffles in to the room, his eyes roaming everywhere other than on her.
“Hi”
“H-how are you feeling?”
“You’re joking right?” She scoffs.
“I-I’m sorry about yesterday, I should of done something to stop Brock”
“But you didn’t and I was humiliated in front of the whole entire school.”
“I know. Y-you didn’t come to mine last night and when I found out that Sam and Steve was turned away by your mom I kind of gotten worried”
“You expected me to show up after none of you said anything to stop Brock? After you didn’t wait for me at lunch or how you and the boys went to Lloyds without me?”
Rubbing the back of his neck he shifted on the spot “well yeah, we’re friends Bu-Y/n”
“You can’t even say the name you gave me when you was seven. Why is that?”
“Dot doesn’t like it”
“Dot being your girlfriend?”
“Yeah…”
“Why didn’t you tell me that you had one?”
“Be-because I didn’t want you to get jealous”
“You thought I would get jealous?”
“Well yeah, you are aren’t you?”
“Give me a second, just wait there” she says as she stands up on shaky legs, moving around him she heads downstairs to the living room where her parents sat “momma, dada can I please swear? I won’t do it again I promise”
“Of course princess” Howard grins before Maria could say anything.
She runs back upstairs and walks around Bucky who still stands there. “Are you fucking out of your mind? You honestly thought I was jealous? I would have been happy for you!”
“Did you just ask your parents if you could swear?” Bucky grins finding it amusing.
“Don’t grin at me Ducky, I swear to God I will hit you!”
“You can’t call me that anymore Y/n, Dot hates it especially after you called it me yesterday”
“Fuck Dot! I’ve been your friend since I was six years old Ducky! You want me to be different with you now that you have a girlfriend?”
“Bunny-shit Y/n. Please just stop calling me it okay it’s embarrassing, we’re to old now to keep calling each other them silly nicknames”
“I-we-what? Duc-“
“Y/n.”
“Fine. James are you really going to be choosing her someone you’ve been dating for all of five minutes over me? Someone you’ve know for years?”
“Yes.”
“W-what?”
“I’m choosing her over you.”
“A-are we no longer friends?”
“Will you grow up and stop acting like a freak?” He says instantly slamming his mouth shut, regret seeping into his veins when he sees her the pain flash across her eyes.
“What did you just call me?”
“I-I didn’t mean it-“
“What did you just call me James”
“Bun-“
“I’m not going to fucking ask again James!”
“A freak” he gulps.
“Fuck you. Get the fuck out of my house and out of my fucking life!”
“Bun-“
“You’re not allowed to call me that anymore, remember? Your bitch of a girlfriend won’t like it oh and we’re not fucking friends anymore! Now leave!”
“Don’t call Dot a-“
“She’s a bitch. A big fat stinking bitch! And guess what James, so are you.”
“Brock’s right, you are a freak. A freak with no friends. And guess what Y/n, I never wanted to be your friend I just felt sorry for you. Your father beat you and killed your mother so of course I felt sorry for you, did you really think I wanted to be friends with you? News flash I didn’t!” He shouts, once he calmed down from his outburst he struggles to breathe “Y/n I’m-I’m sor-“
“I hate you. If you don’t leave right now I’ll get my dad up here, I’m not joking James. Get out I hate you so much I can’t believe I actually thought I loved you. Now fuck off.”
“I-I’m sorry”
“Shove your sorry up your arse and fuck right off bye bye”
She turns her back on him and waiting until she heard him leave, she had always thought that he became her friend because he felt sorry for her but she didn’t want to believe it, now she knew the truth she didn’t know what to do with herself.
Hearing the front door shut she burst out crying, she fell to her knees clutching her chest. She felt her heart had been ripped out of her chest and stomped on a million times.
“Oh my sweet baby, it’s okay I’ve got you” Maria hold her daughter as she breaks down.
“M-Momma it hurts”
“I know it does sweetheart. Let it all out baby”
“I-I don’t want to be here anymore momma”
“What do you mean?”
“I want to go to a private school like you and dada said befo-before I went to school with them”
Maria looks over at Howard who stands at the doorway with his jaw clenched so tightly that Maria thought he was going to shatter his teeth.
“Are you sure angel?”
“Yes I’m sure dada, please I won’t ask for anything else ever again!”
“I’ll set it up angel”
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Bucky had no idea that when he woke up that morning that he was going to lose his best friend but he only had himself to blame.
He had lost the most important person in his life all because he fucked up.
He had said the most vilest things to her which was not in any way true.
He had lost his Bunny.
<Previous   Next>
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1800jjbarnes · 6 months
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◇ 𝐃𝐚𝐲 𝟏𝟓 : 𝐂𝐨𝐫𝐫𝐮𝐩𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 - 𝐁𝐮𝐜𝐤𝐲 𝐁𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐞𝐬 ◇
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God Isn't Here
【Synopsis】 : Bad Boy Bucky wanted to change for you. Be the better man you deserved, but what if you ended up changing more than him?
『W.C』 : 3.70k
-> ɢᴇɴʀᴇ: Slice of Life. Toxic family. Smut. ANGST. Sad Stuff.
ᴘᴀɪʀɪɴɢ: BadBoy!Bucky x Religious!GoodGirl!Reader
[ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢs] : Heavy religious background. Mention of a cult like life. Lots of trauma. Pet names. Swearing. Corruption and slight manipulation. Thigh riding. Dry humping. Oral. Crying turned to sobbing. (I'm sorry this is a shit show). Fingering. Sight sir kink (I can't help myself). When I say this is messy….this is MESSY, FILTHY, DIRTY. Breast play. Clothing is literally being ripped apart. Slight ass play and mention of anal. Hickies. Mention of sex toys. There is way too much dirty talk cause Bucky has a filthy mouth. Use of the name slut. So much sobbing, please forgive me. Cowgirl. Unprotected sex. Loss of virginity. Spanking.
Masterlist | Kinktober List
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Perfection. That was what your family described you as. Their perfect little daughter. Naturally pretty, above-average smarts and a people person. Well, that was what your parents dressed you as. They weren't half wrong to be fair. You wanted nothing more than to be the sweet daughter that your parents wanted. But once your heart fell for the mysterious man that stumbled in the back of your bookshop one day. Perfect was no longer the description to view you as.
Rough, mysterious, heartbreaking, bad boy. He looked like he jumped straight out of a dark romance novel. He was everything you were not, and when he laid eyes on you, he knew he wanted to know you, have you, hold you. To fuck the innocence out of you. But he proceeded with caution. Not wanting to scare you away. He was known as a player, someone that fucked around and partied most weekends…
Yet he changed.
Changed for you. He dotted on you. Followed you around like a loving puppy that found his favourite thing in the world. Which he had. You were his everything and the love of his life, and he would do anything for you. And he made sure you knew that every chance he could. Bringing you flowers to your work or gifting you with a home-cooked meal even though he wasn’t the greatest cook. He wanted you to know that he loves you. Forever and always. And when you were cuddling on the couch in your shared apartment―the apartment your parents didn’t know you had―one night, Bucky couldn’t seem to keep his hands to himself. He tried not to do something you didn’t want but fucking his fist to the thought of you was no longer working. He needed the real deal. And tonight he tried his luck. His touches were slow, sensual. You almost didn’t notice them while you were so focused on the new show Fionna and Cake in front of you. But when his fingertips grazed the end of your sleep shorts, your head snapped to him seeing he was completely focused on you, not even paying attention to the TV.
You gulped, looking at him with such wide innocent eyes. The tingle in your gut made you confused, but it also intrigued you, wanting to know what it was, but you were also scared it might be considered unholy. You see, you were fighting an inner battle. Yes, you had left your family's practice and ran away with Bucky after he convinced you of your family's toxic lifestyle. You wouldn’t ever consider your life being involved around a cult-like community, but yet it was all you knew. And when you opened a bookshop in your hometown, your parents made sure to monitor the shop like hawks, but neither of them would have thought someone like James Bucky Barnes would stumble into the doors of the sweet establishment. Without even realizing it, that day you started losing your faith in god, if you even had any. It was just a way of life to you and you didn’t know any better back then but now you explore the world day by day with your sweet lover boy and god definitely didn’t have anything to do with that.
“W-what are you doing?”  As if you couldn’t sound any more cute than you did right this minute. His blue eyes darkened, sucking in a breath as he watched you squirm. Your doe eyes watched him intensely, your hand snaking down to grab his, holding him still. Did you really not know what teasing was? Then again, you didn’t know most things until he came along. When he first kissed you, he still remembers the shocked expression you made and how you slapped his chest slightly saying ‘We aren’t supposed to do that.’ But now all you do is kiss him. Morning kisses, hello and goodbye kisses. If you walked into the room, he would grab you for a smooch. He loved kissing you, and even though you would not admit it, you craved them too.
“I’m just wanting to touch you, Doll.” His soft voice sent shivers down your spine. You gulped, not knowing what exactly he meant. You gave him a confused expression, and it finally clicked in his head that you didn’t know what was going on. “Can I touch you, baby?”
You smiled letting his hand slip into your own, tilting your head “But you are touching me Jamie.”
Oh fuck, you look so goddamn cute and it made him want to pin you to the couch and fuck you into next week. He wanted, needed to teach you this side of life you didn’t know about. Take it slow, Bucky repeated to himself, placing his hand free hand on top of yours. He closed the distance between your lips but just kept enough space to let you pick whether or not to actually kiss him. And when you gave him a simple smile before sealing your soft lips on his, he took it as a green light to push you further.
“I mean touch sensually...” He peaked your lips again. “Touch you where the ache it.” He kissed the corner of your mouth as both of his hands got free, letting his finger graze your top thigh before slowly slipping towards your inner thigh. Your eyes never left his, eyebrows knotting in anticipation. Your brain was screaming at you, saying what you were about to do was sinful and bad. But your body craved to see what he could do. Could he really help take that ache that pulses in your stomach away? The idea of giving yourself to Bucky more than frightened you… it excited you.
“What are you gonna do to me?” You didn’t mean to sound so seductive, but Bucky drank every word you spoke. And the way you said it would have any man eating out of your hand, yet you didn’t even notice. Merely thinking you were simply asking an innocent question.
“Oh, Darling.” He dipped his fingers further up your thigh, helping you open your legs without a thought, too focused on what Bucky might say. And he thought, for maybe two point five seconds on what he might say. Does he ease in and take it slow like his brain has been repeating for the past month, or does he just drop his filter and see how you react?
He chose to fuck around and find out….
“I want to put my fingers deep inside your pussy.” Your eyes widened at the lewd words that spilled off your lover's tongue. “I want to know what it feels like to fuck you, make love to you.” His fingertips graze your covered core and it makes you jump, whimpering out. You gripped his wrist trying to stop him but you didn’t move him away, too curious to see what he’d do. “Would you let me see what your cunt feels like angel?”
“Y-you can't make l-love to me yet. We aren't married.” That was what you took out of his whole confession. Man has got his work cut out for him. He had to laugh a low, deep grumble, making you shiver. His fingers were still playing with your covered core, trying to pull at the buttons of your pants. “We haven't decided if we want kids yet.”
“Kids?” Okay, now he was the one confused, “Who said anything about kids, Doll?”
“Y-you know…” damn now you feel stupid, of course, this was another thing your parents taught you wrong. You tried to learn things on your own, only just recently finding out what a male privates were called. You felt so small in this outside world, and you tried your hardest not to let Bucky see just how closed off you were growing up, but sometimes it slips out, just like now. And the only way to get out of this was to explain yourself. “You only mate to have bare children. No pleasure or love… it’s a ritual that a married couple performs to conceive kids.”
Bucky tried not to look shocked, but then again, he really wasn't. When he found out you were living in cult-like conditions, he did everything in his power to get you out of that situation whether you liked him to or not. He couldn’t just leave such a sweet thing like you to be devoured by the jaws of a sick bastard who played a so-called god. “My sweet, sweet baby. There is so much more to love-making than bearing children. Do you want me to show you?”
He gave you one last slow kiss, holding your cheek with his free hand, keeping you in place. You sigh in the kiss, feeling a kind of relief and safety. All he wanted to do was keep you comfortable and not do anything you were unsure of. But now you wanted to give back. Give back to his kindness and understanding. You wanted to know, to know what it felt like to be with someone completely. But your mind kept playing the idea that you were betraying your god. You were fighting an inner battle, and you didn’t know what to do. “Y-You can s-show me B-Bucky.”
He shifted his weight, turning to look at you straight on. He placed both hands on either side of your face before asking again. “I need you to say yes, baby. Do you want this? Are you sure?”
“Yes.” You might have said that a little too quickly for your liking, but Bucky. Oh, he’d been waiting for this moment, and it couldn’t be any more perfect. Grabbing your hips, he pulls you up onto his lap. Your face was flustered a bright red. Your hands instantly gripped onto his shoulders as his own snakes under your loose top, feeling your bare tummy. He kisses you on your lips, then a peck on your cheek, then jaw. Before moving down to your neck. His hot tongue licked a long strip against your skin, making you shiver, digging your fingers into his shirt. He chuckled, feeling your hips wiggle, trying to subconsciously relieve the ache.  He held your hip with his right hand, helping you move slowly, letting you take control for the moment. He wanted to ease you in, let you find your rhythm. “J-James I f-feel.”
“Feel what baby? What do you feel?” He pulled away to look at you, using his free metal hand to slowly move down your navel before landing just above your core. Your eyes stayed closed, rocking your hips slowly. Your clit was brushing against your jeans just right and it was sending your head into a spin. You didn’t know how to describe the feeling but it felt, good. Right, almost. And then he cupped your pussy making you jump.
“I feel hot… I think I-I’m sweating d-down….” You looked down, seeing his hand holding your core. He looked down to, knowing exactly what you were saying. Chuckling against, he rubbed his two cold metallic middle fingers along your covered slit.
“It’s not sweat, Doll. It’s called cum. It comes out of you when you’re feeling good.” he continued to rub you making your mouth fall agape slightly. He leaned towards your ear kissing the top of your neck before whispering. “and it tastes delicious too. Can you give me a taste baby?”
You hesitantly nodded, “Yes, but is…” He looks at you in your wide eyes. “ W-what about g-gods w…”
“Fuck god. He doesn’t know a good thing if it was staring at him in the face.” His voice was laced with aggression. But his lips against your neck were soft, gentle. “Forget god, baby. It’s just you and me.”
You and me…. Something he has said to you since you met. Sneaking out, he always said it was you and him against the world and the day you had packed your bag―with what little you had―and left while your parents were out, you knew he’d be there for you. You still wonder if your parents even read the note you left them. But then again, they most likely would have thrown it away, not caring for a sinner like you anymore. “I don’t know if I c-can…Bucky…”
He stopped. For a moment. Anger was surging through him. Your family fucked you up so much and all he wanted to was find each and every one of those preachers and kill them where they stood. He wanted to protect you, hold you. Love you. “Yes you can angel. You can do anything you want. You are so strong.”
And with that, you kiss him, taking in a big breath in through your nose. He pulled away first, making you chase his lips, but as his body sank onto the floor, making you watched with curiosity. He sat on his knees, never breaking eye contact with you. His hands find the buttons on your jean shorts, helping you loosen them before ultimately slipping them off. Everything was happening so fast yet so slowly as well. your body was shaking, feeling exposed without your pants, but as his gaze switched from yours to your core between your legs, you couldn’t help but whimper. “James…”
“It’s okay baby I’m going to make you feel good. I promise.” He lent in pushing your panties to the sides and finally getting a good view of your soaked cunt. “Fuck, you are so pretty baby.” he wasted no time in licking a long strip along your folds making you make a high-pitched noise that was music to Bucky's ears. He got to work, suckling, biting and tending to your core. You had thrown your head back against the couch, grabbing your lover's thick dark hair and spreading your legs wider for him without realizing. A strange feeling was brewing in your lower tummy and you couldn’t find the words to explain it. You were feeling all types of emotions, happiness, guilt, hatred, lust and everything in between. And then Bucky took his fingers against your core making you jump.
“Bucky, w-wait…” But your lover didn’t listen cause he knew you’d just start talking about god again. He needed you to listen to him and if words weren't going to work. Maybe a demonstration would. His mouth cages your clit while his finger begins to sink into you slowly and you felt electricity surge through you. Everything you did for your parents. The little girl that “raised right” was slowly slipping away and it was terrifying you. Tears started prickling down your face, feeling so good but so guilty at the same time. Why did your parents have to do what they did to you? Why couldn’t they have raised you normally? Were you could make your own mistakes. You hated them. You hated everything. Everything except Bucky. “G-god…”
You didn’t know what you wanted to say, but you knew he wasn’t going to listen. In fact, he snapped instead, making a chill pool inside you. “God isn’t here baby, now let me have my meal. Got that?”
“Yes sir…” You cried, feeling him put another finger inside you.
“Fuck say that again…” He groan against your clit.
“S-Sir…” You obeyed, feeling his fingers thrusted in a harsh pace, making you scream out, tears pouring out of you more and more with your mouth spilling out saliva onto your chin.
“That’s right, baby. This is my pussy yeah? I get to play with her―Fuck her whenever I want. Do you understand?” He chuckled, nibbling on your puffy nub.
“Y-yes sir. Please, have me whenever you’d like. I’ll be good. I promise. Fffuuck!!” You’ve never sworn before, but it felt like a word needed for this occasion. A band in you snapped, feeling yourself clench around Bucky's fingers. He slowed down until he came to a stop, but not pulling his fingers out just yet. He had to see your face, the way your nose scrunched up when his thumb pressed firmly on your clit and fingers slowly slipping from inside you helping your ride out your high. Hearing you swear was single-handedly the sexiest thing you could do. He stood up quickly, grabbing your wrist so he could pull you up making you stand. But your legs didn’t want to work so he had to hold you up.
“Don’t worry, baby. You’re always good, baby. My sweet girl.” he pecked your nose, making you smile. He rubbed away some of your tears with his left thumb. You both stood there for a moment, letting you catch your breath. But without you noticing, he undid his belt and jean buttons, shaking his jeans off. You only then noticed when a hard object poked your tummy. Looking down, you see his appendage under his boxers. You had to gulp worried as to how it might fit inside you. He licked his lips watching you inspect him, he had no shame, slipping his thumb under the band of his boxer before pulling it down, letting his cock spring free.
You gasped, seeing his dick whack his navel. Its red angry tip leaking out some pre-cum and twitching just at the thought you’d touch it. You looked back at his eyes with wide doe eyes, almost silently asking what was going to happen next. He swung you both around so his back was facing the couch before taking a seat on it. He pulled you along, letting you take a seat on his lap. The feeling of his hot cock against your pussy made you clench around nothing. Your nerves were shot and you were shaking with a mixture of fear and excitement.
“Ready?” He simply asked, snaking his hands under your top tugging on the fabric slightly. You nodded, answering with a small yes before he took the end of your shirt and ripped it down the middle. You gasped, moaning without thinking. Your chest was suddenly exposed to him, leaving you completely bare for him. He had a sadistic smirk painting his features, leaning down he licked your left nipple making you whimper out his name. Your hands found his shoulders, letting him attack your chest with harsh red and purple marks. His hands that layed on your hips moved behind you. One grabbed a hand full of your ass while the other one glided toward your asshole. He put pressure against your hole, and it made you wiggle in his grasp. He lived for your reaction.
“Sensitive Doll? I wonder what I would feel like to fuck this tight little ass too? Hmm.” His dirty words made you feel filthy in the best way. His thumb slipped into your puckered hole for a moment sending a new feeling through your system. Anything he did was pushing your buttons correctly. It was like he knew your body better than you did. “You’re just a dirty girl, aren’t you? Wanting to be fucking in the ass? Bet I could fuck this pussy while I have a pretty dildo up your ass. Hmm. Would you like that? You want to be my little slut?”
“I-I’m not dirty…I..I..” You didn’t know what to say, feeling conflicted in his words. But he couldn’t care. Your body was reacting perfectly to his words, and that’s all he needed.
“Don’t worry, baby. I’ll fuck you nice and full. And then we can go shopping. I plan on showing you all the pleasure you’d been missing out on.” his laugh was lewd, almost cruel sounding and you couldn’t help but moan in response. He lifted you up slowly without you taking much notice, only focusing on his finger thrusting in your asshole softly. It was only when a sharp pain started forming in your front you snapped your eyes open looking down.
“F-fuck…JAMES!!” he helped you sink down slowly until you had him completely nestled inside your aching cunt. You were crying again. But it was different this time. The pain was only slight, you actually didn’t mind the pain. But it was the value of what you had just done. Wrapping your arms around his shoulders you sobbed. Crying from all the frustration. All the anger you had against your parents. Against your community. You had now completely turned your back on the god you once worshipped. All your life learning certain things was for nothing.
“Shhhh. It’s okay.” he rubbed your back, feeling a tingle in his gut. God, you felt so good, your pussy was clenching him perfectly but he felt sorry for you. You had lived only one way and he came in and changed your life in a blink of an eye and it wouldn't had been easy one bit for you.
He had made a promise to himself that night. While his hips started to move and your body started to stutter with him. While his lips were on yours or sucking sharply on your neck. While his hands smacked your plump ass helping you ride his cock at a desperate pace. And when he bent you over the edge of the couch so he could fuck you from behind while you creamed all over his cock for the fourth time. He was going to love you, now and forever. He was going to teach you new things every day and always make sure you were the best version of yourself. And he was going to also fuck you in every room of this house…
That last part might of just been more for his sake but it’s the thought that counts.
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cosmos-coma · 3 months
Text
My Sun, My Star- Part 2
A/N: Thank you all SO MUCH for your great comments on part one. I couldn't have asked for a better crowd to receive my work! Because so many people asked for it I've finally written a part 2! I honestly can't tell how good it is any more cause I've probably read it through 12 times in the last two days lol, so enjoy!
Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader
Words: 7476 (whoops)
Warnings: Pregnant reader, Otherwise GN reader (no pronouns), Occasional use of "Y/n", Injury, Bucky's kind of an ass when hes upset (but redeemable), arguing.
Summary: Bucky finds out that you met the Winter Soldier and he is Not happy.
Part 1 | Part 3 | Epilogue | Bucky Masterlist
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“Doll…?” you heard the familiar voice call, rough and gritty from its recent use but still carrying that same soft tone he used with you.
Your heart swelled as you lowered your hand from your face “Bucky...?”
He looked tired, so so tired. What was once sweet blue eyes were now diluted with exhaustion, no longer the brisk gaze you had learned to find comfort in. But still, a smile of relief eased onto your features at the mere sight of him and slowly the spark in his eyes began to return. 
“Bucky!” You rushed to the thick door separating you, your hands eagerly jiggling the locked knob as you tried to get in. All you wanted to do was hold him, to hold his face, his hands; you wanted to feel and squeeze all of him just to know that he was truly back.
“Sheesh, hold on!” Tony complained, “At least let us take the wiring off first, we can’t have you coming in and messing up- hey! HEY, stop smudging the glass!” Tony shouted as he worked quickly to detach the wires of various machines from his head.  
Bucky laughed a bit as he sat up carefully, rolling the pain out of his shoulders and arms when something didn’t feel right. He winced as he felt his soft shoulder complain against the movements and looking over he spotted the bandage taped tight to his skin- a small dot of blood peeking through the solid white; before he could ask about it Tony was already sending a technician to unlock the door. 
“Alright, alright, we’re opening the door, stop your jiggling…” the billionaire griped.
As soon as you saw your opening you ran straight for him, your leg be damned as you stumbled into his waiting arms, “Bucky, my heart...” you whispered with relief as you hugged him as close as you possibly could. It was times like these when you cursed your body’s rotund transformation as it refused to let you get that much closer to him. But none of it mattered as his strong arms wrapped around you in turn, flooding you with the familiar scent and warmth of his amber-like musk. 
“Hey, Doll…” The super soldier rasped softly in your ear, his voice still a little rough from the muffled shouts of pain just minutes before. His brow tightened and he held in a wince at the impact of your hug, refusing to let you see him falter as pain jolted his shoulder. 
“What are you still doing up?” he asked with a smile, the roughness finally easing away and slipping back into the smooth rumble of his natural voice. His eyes trailed down your face and body, stopping abruptly at the bandage wrapped around your calf. He frowned as his brows creased together uneasily, “What happened to your leg? Who-” he started to ask, but before he had a chance to finish Tony interrupted with his usual reminders. 
“Alright, I’m sure you remember-” He paused a moment, shrugging, “well, maybe- that although you may not remember anything now, it should all come back over time,” Tony said as he typed updates into Bucky’s file. “Given that this wasn’t a very long recession- just a few hours- you should remember everything in a couple of days,” he decided with a firm nod, looking over to the disheveled man. “Do you remember anything from last night?” 
Bucky shook his head, “I remember the basement and the flashing lights…I remember following Sam back out to the jet, but it starts getting fuzzy there,” he said as he ran his fingers through his hair. His mind was exhausted from switching back and forth and he really didn’t have the energy to delve into it much longer. “I think I remember coming back to the tower, but it’s not clear.”
“Hm, Interesting,” Tony remarked as he typed in a few more long lines into the already lengthy files. Bucky couldn’t quite make out the words on the pages and pages of information on himself and the Winter Soldier, but then again, he wasn’t sure he wanted to know anyway. 
“Well,” continued Tony, looking at you now, “seeing as I’ve heard that your front door is in a state of disrepair-” 
“-Kicked in,” you corrected swiftly, making Bucky’s concern rise. 
“Semantics, ” Tony disregarded with a wave of his hand, “-you two are welcome to stay in the tower until we get it fixed. Barnes’ old room is still open; I trust you two remember the way there?” 
----
You stepped into Bucky’s old room, a few personal items still scattered around here and there, but barely anything significant. Strong arms snaked around your waist, careful of your belly as they pulled you close against their firm frame.
Soft laughter bubbled from your chest as you gazed up at him, your head leaning back against his solid build, “Just like old times, huh?” You mumbled happily as you rubbed your hand up and down his forearms. 
“Mmm, back when I used to sneak you into the tower every other night?” his body rumbled with a gentle laugh, remembering the fond moments. The two of you lingered in the peaceful space for a moment, both of you happy to have finally put the stress of the past few hours behind you. Large hands smoothed down your rounded belly, inching the fabric of his sweatshirt up so he could feel his little girl properly.
You hummed softly, contentment easing into your every pore as you let out a big yawn. You were finally feeling the full weight of the day and you wanted nothing more than to collapse onto the small mattress. You pulled back, bringing his knuckles up for a  quick kiss as you stepped away, “I’m gonna get ready for bed. I’m beat…we both are,” you said with a gentle pat to your belly. 
Bucky nodded as he watched you leave his arms, your gait just slightly uneven as you tried to hide the extent of your limp, “Doll…” he called, causing you to glance back. 
“You never answered me earlier. What happened to your leg? And what did Stark mean by our door being broken in…?” he asked, watching closely as you stood with your back to him. Your shoulders tensed the slightest bit as he asked, your gaze turning away as you searched desperately for the right way to tell him. 
“I… It was an accident….” you said, trying to ease him into it as you started explaining from the beginning “I was at home in bed when-” You started, but he had already begun connecting the dots. The basement, the blood, the lapse in memory, only to finally find himself awake in Tony’s lab? It was all too familiar.
“You met him, didn’t you?” He asks quietly, “The Winter Soldier….”  The room went silent as you hesitated to answer, only the tremble of your beating heart to be heard in your ears, but it was all the reply he needed. 
He could feel the growing heat of anger simmer beneath his skin. He had failed you- he couldn’t frame it in any other way. He had tried so hard for so many years to keep you from meeting him, to keep you safe, and now- in your most vulnerable state- he had failed. Deep in his heart, he knew he was only angry with himself, but knowing it still didn’t seem to stop the way his words bubbled over and burned, “Why didn’t you tell me? Did he do this to you?” He pointed at your bandage, his anger was simmering into a rolling boil when it suddenly crashed into an icy panic.
“Shit, did he-” He gulped and continued with the faintest shuddering his breath, “Did he try to…? ” He couldn’t even finish the sentence, the thought too scary to speak into existence as his hand fell to your bump in worry. As an assassin his targets had always been adults in the past; would the Winter Soldier really target a child? Bucky couldn’t say for certain either way and that was enough for him to worry.
“What...? Bucky, no. He would never-“ 
“Do not tell me what he would and would not do, Y/n,” he seethed, using your name for the first time in what felt like forever. You had always been his doll….
“You think I don’t know the things he’ll do? You think I don’t see them again and again at night? No one is an exception to him, not even you-“
“But I-“ 
“And if you truly believe that-” his voice grew lower, his anger coming out in slicing breaths as he spoke, “-then maybe you’re not as smart as you let people believe you are….” 
You suck in a sharp breath as his last words hit you. You felt like a bucket of ice was thrown directly over your head and your brain reeled as it tried to make sense of it all. ‘Did he… did he really just say what I think he said?’  you questioned, but your brain just played those thorn-covered words on repeat, rubbing the truth into your open wounds. You tried not to take them to heart, you knew it had been a long day for the both of you, but how could you not? 
You took a shuddering breath as you looked down, tears welling in your eyes that you willed him not to see. You were too tired for this.
“Y/n..” he sighed as he watched you wordlessly gather his old clothes, long forgotten in the drawers from when he first moved in with you all that time ago. “Y/n, Where are you going? Come back here…” 
“I’m going to find another room.” You explained simply, forcing calmness into your tone, but you still couldn’t meet his eyes. 
“Doll, I’m sorry-”
“No.” You said firmly, causing him to raise his eyebrows a bit as slowly you turned to face him, “I'm far too tired for this tonight, James. it’s been a long night, we’re both in pain, and you obviously need some time to cool down, because the Bucky I know? He would never speak to me like this,” You struggled to hold in your venom as you harshed out those last words, “Goodnight, Bucky.”
You let the welled-up tears finally break free as the door clicked closed behind you. Sniffling back the onslaught you wiped away your tears to peek around the hall, eventually settling on the room just across from his. “FRIDAY? Open up the door to room 7 please…” you asked, relieved when she did exactly as you asked- you’d have to thank Tony for that later. 
“Shit,” Bucky sighed into the empty room, now far too quiet for his liking. He always did everything he could hold to keep his anger in check with you, and it had been easy for the most part. Loving you had always come easy to him, and so he rarely had anything to be upset about. But this? This was new for him…. everything the Winter Soldier did was a means to an end. He was a deceiver, it was programmed into him over the decades and he couldn’t bear to let you fall prey to his games too.
Sleep eluded you for a while as you tossed and turned. You weren’t used to sleeping without him by your side, especially when you knew he was just a step and a knock away. But eventually, through your exhaustion, sleep finally came and you dreamed about your star that very night.
You dreamed of his eyes. Those intense blues that had rattled you so unexpectedly just hours ago. You were sure Bucky was wrong. Those eyes didn’t hold malice when they looked at you. No, they held knowing, like he had finally figured out a piece of himself. As if he had finally seen an aspect of what he could- no, what he would be. 
You also dreamed of his smile. As awkward and unpracticed as it was you still loved it. It was nowhere near as bright as Bucky’s, but it held reverence for you all the same. 
You dreamed of the promises he made against your belly. While you couldn’t distinguish the words he had said, you knew exactly what they meant; protection, strength, and the promise to return…. 
When you finally awoke your heart rang with a pang of guilt. Your dream-state comfort had been that of an assassin, an engineered “weapon”- and your heart’s blood-stained other half…. You sighed as you rubbed the sleep from your face. Was it right to be finding comfort in his icy blues instead of Bucky’s warm ones? Your thoughts fought each other for barely a minute more before you were brought back to the “talk” you and Bucky had yesterday. ‘He wouldn’t even listen to me! And then he’s going to go and call me stupid?! AGH’ you huffed as you slammed your fists down on the bed, your hands bouncing in an unsatisfying manner. 
Rolling out of bed, you got changed into Bucky’s old clothes, smoothing down the oversized items as you poked your head out of the room. All was quiet in the hallway and only a couple of distant voices could be heard from the kitchen and living area. Holding your belly you hobbled out, your leg searing with each step as you kept your head on a swivel for a certain super soldier. You weren’t quite ready to talk to him yet, all your frustrations still pumping through your blood in a slow but consistent course, However, your heart still found itself craving his familiar presence. 
A fleeting disappointment hung over you when you realized he was nowhere to be found, instead discovering Natasha and Sam as they chatted over breakfast. 
“It was.. weird, Nat. I know my interactions with him in the past have been limited, but I’ve never seen him like that before” Sam said and you knew they were talking about last night.
“Hey, you two…” You interrupted, causing them to pause as they watched you enter, but neither seemed uneasy as you butted in. 
“Y/N…” Sam greeted with a small smile, pressing a few buttons on the coffee machine to get something started for you, “How’s it going? It looks like your leg is still bothering you…” 
“Yeah... it’s burning more than last night, ” you rubbed your hand gently over your bandages in an attempt to soothe it, but it only stung more in retaliation. “Ah..” you hissed as you immediately retreated, “Yeah, it’s just a little sensitive….”
“We have some topical anesthetic and fresh bandages in the first aid kit if you want. I can grab them if Sam Is okay finishing off the rest of the pancakes?” the redhead proposed, holding the spatula out to him in an offering. 
“Oh?? I, Sam Wilson, get to finish making Natasha’s famous pancakes? What an honor,” He laughed as he feigned his esteemed admiration, taking the spatula and flipping the few already sitting in the pan.
 Nat grinned brightly as she made her way down the hall, whispering as she went past, “Truthfully? It’s a box mix. I just add vanilla and nutmeg and they never know the difference.”
You chuckled as you watched her go off to fetch the kit, truly thankful for the break in tension you were already feeling. You hadn’t gotten to know Natasha very well yet, on the off chance you visited the tower she was usually busy with missions, training, or paperwork, yet she welcomed you all the same. Part of you wondered if it was the former assassin in her that let her find friendship in you. After all, if you could love Bucky despite the Winter soldier, then surely you could be her friend despite her past, right?
You took a seat at the island's raised stools, watching Sam as he tried not to let the pancakes overcook. “So, Where is Bucky this morning?” You asked him, trying to be casual as you crossed your arms over the counter, thanking him as he placed a cup of decaf in front of you. 
But Sam paused; you always knew where Bucky was, sometimes more than they did at this stage in your pregnancy. He even swore sometimes that you two were attached at the hip. The fact that you didn’t know means something must’ve happened last night after he got reset. 
“He joined Steve on his morning run,” he answered as he leaned against the island opposite you, rolling his eyes as he continued, “It’s always ‘on your left…!’ when I run with him. I hope he gives Steve a run for his money this time…” he shook his head and smiled a bit as he watched you, trying to check in, but you just laughed, your face cracking into a small smile that didn’t quite reach your eyes. 
“Speaking of your elusive super soldier…” Nat started as she returned, getting straight to the point as both her curiosity and old spy ways got the best of her, ”I heard the infamous Winter Soldier made an appearance last night...” She eyed you as well as she set the first aid kit down.
You tried to keep your smile, but as the conflicting thoughts and feelings of just last night resurfaced it was no time before it slipped away. You frowned at your mug, watching the dark swirls that lingered amongst the cream you added, “He did… he showed up at the house last night unexpectedly.”
Natasha’s frown matched yours as she spoke, “That bad, huh?”
“No, not at all. I mean, besides the almost getting shot part-“ you motioned as you began unwrapping your leg, your gash now open for the world to see. Though It was still a blazing red, it didn’t seem infected and for that you were thankful. 
Her eyebrows shot up as she looked over your wound, it was a good-sized graze and a very near miss, “Y/N do we need to have a talk about toxic relationships?” 
“What? No, Nat-” You waved her off, trying to get back on track as you began carefully cleaning it, “he’s not the one who shot me.” 
You didn’t miss the way Nat’s eyes darted to Sam, surprise written on her face for just a moment before her collected expression came back. “He didn’t? That seems….”
“I told you…He was different last night,  he was on the defensive this time.” Sam chimed in, tying back to their earlier conversation that you had interrupted.
You nodded in agreement and continued, “It was the security team that shot me, some new kid. I didn’t recognize his number or his face,” You explained. You couldn’t even be angry at that poor dumb soul either, he more than got what was coming to him. All you could hope for was that he learned something when he was dangling so uselessly in the air. 
Sam thought for a moment, back to the bristling frustration he saw written all over Bucky as he left this morning, enough that he worried the Winter Soldier might have made a second appearance. His concerns dissipated when Steve managed to pat the man’s shoulder without receiving an immediate knife to the throat, but now it made him wonder, “Does Bucky know this?”
Your expression softened and you continued to frown as you took a small sip, “No… I tried to talk about it with him last night, but he didn’t want to hear anything after he learned who I met,” you huffed with annoyance, not even bothering to hide it from your two friends. 
Sam nodded and held his hand up, “Well, I can’t say much since we only came in on the end, but maybe Bucky would listen to the body cam footage?”
You paused, blinking a few times as you processed what he said, “Body cam footage?” You questioned, setting the roll of bandages down, “What do you mean?”
“The security team is always required to wear body cameras when they go out. They should be reviewing it now,” Natasha explained. 
You nearly jumped out of your chair, the pain in your leg the only thing holding you back. This could be it! If he wouldn’t believe your words, then maybe he’d believe his own eyes. Bucky deserved to know what kind of man his other side of him really was; he deserved to know that you loved him wholly, finding comfort in both sides of the coin. 
You were determined not to give up on your star, because while Bucky had his friends to back him up, your Soldat had no one. No one, but you. 
“Where can I get it?” You rushed to ask, looking back between the two, who in turn exchanged glances with one another. 
Natasha took over pancake duty as Sam slid a plate in front of you and said, “It should be available sometime tomorrow, I can let them know you want a copy. Since you were the one caught in the crossfire they shouldn’t have a problem giving you access.” 
You nodded quickly, excitement and relief easing into your shoulders as you took your plate, letting out a breath you didn’t you were holding. 
This was it. 
--------
Bucky’s feet hit the pavement in time with his steady heart, maneuvering past people like boxes in crowded alleyways. He was supposed to be on a run with Steve, but his mind had been wandering the whole time.  ‘The Bucky I know? He would never speak to me like this,’ you had told him, so calm and so even that he honestly wished you had just screamed at him. His legs went into autopilot as your words rattled around his head. You were right, never in his waking minutes would it have ever crossed his mind to say those things to you. He was just so tired, so scared, and to top it all off it seemed like you had completely forgotten his warnings on the Soviet assassin. Or worse- that you purposefully went against them.
“Buck? Bucky!” Steve’s voice finally reached his ears as a hand grabbed his shoulder. 
“What? What is it..?” The brunet shook himself from his thoughts as he slowed to a stop, looking back at his friend.
“Where are you going? The tower is this way,” Steve shot a thumb over his shoulder in the opposite direction, the tower in plain view above the surrounding shops. 
Bucky stopped, blinking as he tried to process his surroundings. Where was he going? There was nothing in this direction except-
The apartment. 
Bucky sighed as he quieted the subtle itch at the back of his mind, “Nothing, nothing. Just lost in my thoughts. I’m here now,” he assured, to which Steve nodded, but obviously did not believe. He was always too smart for his own good.
“Let’s head back to the tower, okay? It’ll be our final mile. We can even stop by the bakery on our way.” 
Bucky willed himself to keep his thoughts in line as they ran their last mile, the tension in his body slowly unwinding only as they came to a stop and stepped into the sweet-smelling bakery. His senses were hit with a deluge of warm bread and spices that seemed to quiet his nerves for the time being. 
“What can I get for you, sugar?” the older woman behind the counter asked. Her smile was tired as she nursed an old cup of coffee and Bucky assumed she had been there since its opening hours ago. 
“Oh, um…” Bucky hummed as he looked through their displays, his heart really wasn’t in it like he wished it was. He was about to step back without getting anything when he spotted a fresh tray of cinnamon rolls coming out of the back. Cinnamon rolls had always been one of your favorite treats and he had rescued many a bad day with a surprise from the bakery. Maybe he could turn this bad day around too.
“Three cinnamon rolls, and three of the blueberry lemon rolls too. Uh, and a black coffee…. Please.” He asked, pulling his wallet out. 
“Sounds like you’re having quite the party,” she commented with a little chuckle as she filled up a box with fragrant pastries. 
“Ah, almost…I’m trying to make it up to someone,” He admitted sheepishly.
“Hm…” She hummed, looking right through him with practiced eyes, “You want me to throw some heart-shaped sprinkles in there or is that too much?” 
A tiny smile lifted the corners of his mouth, “I think it’s gonna be just right.” 
Bucky rehearsed the whole walk back, running his apology through his head dozens and dozens of times until it felt perfect. You still didn’t seem to grasp the level of danger you were in or how lucky you were to get out with just a scratch, but he knew you wouldn’t be able to listen if you were still angry with him. Maybe this would smooth things over enough for him to explain- for him to tell you all the things he did, all the things his hands will forever be stained with. 
You knew the gist of it of course. Bucky had made it a point to let you know exactly what had happened to him over those years and exactly what his job as a living weapon was. The last thing he had wanted was for you to resent him for tricking you into loving him. But you deserved to know more, and these gooey pastries going to be his entry point.
Yes. He’d give you the treats, say his well-thought-out apology, and then he could finally explain. Hopefully, then you’d understand.
Well, that was the plan anyway.
As the doors opened up to their desired floor, Bucky could hear you before he even saw you. Your laugh rang like bells as you chatted away with Natasha and Sam, his heart bolstering with hope that your good mood would only make it better as he stepped forward. 
“Hey, Do-“ he started before his eyes landed on your leg. It was propped up on the stool beside you as you were obviously in the middle of caring for it. He hadn’t had a chance to see it yet, part of him not wanting to know just how bad it was, but now there was no ignoring it. It was bright red, yelling its ferocity and pain as you tried to air it out. The wound itself was still trying to heal over, its soft vulnerable flesh showing barely any sign of scabbing. Blood stained your old bandage and it all made his stomach twist without mercy. 
His mind couldn’t negotiate with him how bad it was anymore. Even though it was just a graze, he could see how painful and uncomfortable it was for you. He had failed you. What if it had just been an inch over? What if it had hit your bump? What if it had hit your heart? 
He didn’t even realize he had crushed the flimsy cup in his hands until Steve stepped back, saying something about getting paper towels. Scorching coffee steamed up from his metal hand where it continued to drip into the puddle below it.
You looked over in surprise as you heard the splash, seeing your Bucky standing there with an intensity so adamant that you almost mistook him for someone else. But his eyes aren’t staring at you, per se, but your leg. 
“Bucky, It’s okay, really-“ you tried, but he would not hear you; He wouldn’t hear anyone as he dropped his cup, the loud clattering in the quiet room almost more jarring than anything he could have said back. “Buck. Bucky, wait-!” but he was already walking away, forcing his gaze ahead as he passed by you like a ghost. 
You tried to reach out, to grab his sleeve, but he slipped right through your fingers. 
“Barnes, come on…” Natasha gently scolded, but he still refused to react. 
You blinked back your shock, willing the threat of tears to subside when you heard the loud thud of his door closing behind him. You let out a shuddering breath, your hands rubbing down your face and you wondered just how long this was going to last. 
After taking a few minutes to re-wrap your leg, hoping maybe he had cooled down once more you made your way down the hall. “Hm?” You mused wordlessly as you saw the small white box placed on the ground before your door. Being careful of your protruding bump, you squatted down- earning a small kick of protest- and lifted up the lid. 
‘Cinnamon rolls… my favorite. And he even got us a special flavor…. ‘
With utmost care, you closed the box again and turned to face his door. “Bucky? My heart…?” You tried as you knocked on his door, putting your ear against it as you listened in.
Silence.
You tried again, louder this time, “Bucky, are you in there...?” But were again met with nothing. Was he really ignoring you now? “Please, can we just talk?” 
Quiet.
Your skin couldn’t help but burn as you tried to hold in your frustration. ‘So now he doesn’t want to talk to me? What did I even do?!’ You thought as you dug your nails into your palms, using the sharp pain to ground you once more. 
With a deep breath, you turned, picked up the white box, and left him to his begotten silence.
---------
Bucky’s ears were deaf to your calls as the shower rained over him, washing off the coffee and grime of the whole morning. His breath broke through the steam as he sighed, dipping his head under the rush of scorching water as if it would wash away his worries too; It almost worked until a searing headache made itself known. 
The pain rippled in violent waves that came out of nowhere, consuming him suddenly and causing him to reach out blindly for the support of the slick wall. It was worse than getting kicked straight in the head, but he knew from experience that fighting it would only make it hurt more. 
Squeezing his eyes shut against the pain, he made the perfect dark theater as flashes and snippets of memories played behind his eyes. 
“Bucky…?” A vibrant grin spread across your lips, lighting up the room brighter than the phone on your bedside table. Someone was calling you, but he couldn’t seem to tear his eyes away and the more he watched, the more your face changed. 
Your eyes squinted as you looked deeper into him and for a moment he could swear you saw the heavy weight of loneliness that ached in his chest. He felt the coldness of his expression, emotionless and lifeless save for the way his brows knit together, eyes searching yours with confusion and… wanting? Your brows knit together, almost a reflection of himself he thought, as you seemed to consider who you looked at. 
He could feel the smooth cold weight of the knife in his hand as he took a step closer, his head shaking slowly. 
Then suddenly your gaze took on a horrified expression, your eyes darting to the phone to see who was calling. 
“Soldat…” You whispered. You tried to steel yourself, but he heard the way your nervous voice shook- he saw the way your pulse thrummed rapidly in your neck. As the phone went dark he took another step- quiet, so as not to send you running. 
Your phone buzzed again, lighting up the room once more as he stood above you now and you looked so scared, but his expression did not change. Did he feel anything as he saw your cowering form below him? Or was he just another husk of a weapon? Could he ever be anything more?
He glanced at the phone; his time with you had been interrupted again- your attention was drawn from him again. And he couldn’t have that. A low growl rumbled from his chest as you tried to reach for it, and immediately you recoiled again. He would take care of this. He would take care of you.
Wordlessly he declined the call and left you in darkness again. While his knife slipped away, his metal hand reached out. Something in him called desperately to feel your skin beneath cool unforgiving metal. He needed to see all the ways your soft scared body reacted under his touch.
He would take care of you. 
“Please… Just don’t hurt her..” you begged.  
Bucky sucked in desperate breaths as the memories of just yesterday finally faded. The headache lingered, but it was nothing compared to the incessant twisting of his heart in his chest.
What did he do to you…?
-----
You found solace in the quiet of your room after Bucky refused to answer the door, wrapping yourself in the comfort of your duvet rather than his arms. You sighed, looking about the empty room as you leaned your head against the armchair you sat in. “Hey there, baby…” you cooed quietly to your belly, your words immediately met with excited kicks. “Enjoying the rolls as much as I am?” you laughed a bit as you took another bite of your pastry. 
You were lost in the one-sided conversation between you and your belly when a knock came at your door. You furrowed your brow as you sat up a bit wondering who it could be, only to sigh and lean back again, “Nat, I’m not sure I’m really in the mood for-”
“It’s Bucky…”
You paused, your mind at war with whether you ignored him like he ignored you… when you received a swift kick to the ribs, your baby firmly letting you know you were acting stupid. “Ah, ow- Okay, okay. You win… nice kick….” You mumbled to the inevitable bruise forming inside you. 
“FRIDAY, Unlock the door to room 7, please?” you requested, to which she gladly complied. 
As the door let out a soft click you watched your boyfriend’s head slowly peek inside, a faint smile growing on his features as his eyes finally settled on you. “Doll…” he breathed as if the simple action blessed him with life.
You couldn’t help the smile that tugged at your features before you quickly pulled it all back in. You were still frustrated with him and you weren’t going to let him off so easily. You had to be strong and stick up for the Winter Soldier, after all, it was the least you could do. 
“Do you like them…? I know they’re your favorite,” he smiled as he motioned to the box of pastries, taking a few steps closer until he stood an arm's reach away. You wanted nothing more than to feel the warmth of him against you and the tight safety of his arms, but that would have to wait.
“I do… Thank you,” you smiled faintly down at the box as you pulled the blanket tighter around you. 
He nodded, the ends of his lips remaining curled in a small smile, “I’m… I’m sorry about last night. I didn’t mean to say those things, or imply that I don’t think you’re the smartest one in the room because you are.” His eyes cast down in shame before moving back up to you. He looked worn, as if he had been beating himself up for hours and you wanted nothing more than to take it all away. 
“I was tired, and in pain, and scared...” He tried to hide the slight tremble in his voice as he remembered the way his thoughts raced when he first learned you had met the Soldier. He frowned as he fought off the memory that had resurfaced just a short while ago as he continued, “I don’t mean to make excuses, and it won’t happen again, I just-,” he frowned, his jaw setting as he steeled himself and took a breath, “I can’t imagine the ways he must’ve hurt you, or the ways he intended to. It makes me sick to think that I wasn’t there to do anything, and even sicker to know I was the one doing them….”
But it was your turn to frown now, “Bucky, My heart. I keep trying to tell you he didn’t hurt me, He would never….” You assured, but this argument was beginning to look all too familiar.
“Doll, you can’t tell me that you really believe that…? You know the things he’s done, the indiscriminate blood on his hands-” he sighed as he also felt the argument beginning to go around in circles. 
Just as you were about to open your mouth FRIDAY interrupted, “Guest Y/N, Sergeant Barnes, Miss Romanoff has requested your presence in the living area. She asks that you do not delay.” 
You sighed as you looked at Bucky, who seemed to be just as confused as you were. Nevertheless, you peeled yourself from your blanket cocoon, steadying yourself on the chair’s arm briefly before heading toward the door. You could feel him following behind you, trying to stay a few steps back both in punishment to himself, and the urge to give you space.
You glanced back at him, offering your hand as you slowly made your way down the hall. Bucky took it immediately, holding your hand like it was a lifeline and you gently tugged him closer, urging him to fall in step beside you as you leaned on him for support; he has never been happier to be your crutch.
As the two of you walked into the living space you saw Natasha standing firm in front of the TV with the remote in her hands. Sam and Steve looked back from their place on the couch, waving a bit at each of you as you joined the group.
Before either of you could ask any questions Natasha got straight to the point, “Alright, I’m done feeling the tension between you two in the tower… you two have been arguing about something that- all in all, you two should just be happy went as good as it did..” she motioned for you two to take a seat before continuing, “But because you two are still at odds with each other I’ve asked to get the body cam footage expedited. We have the best of what they’ve gone through already and Barnes? I really think you should watch it…” she said with a pointed look and clear knowing. 
He cast an uneasy glance at Sam and Steve, but when he received a simple nod in return he nodded too, tugging you gently onto the seat beside him. With a sigh, he nodded at Nat to start the video. He wasn’t sure he was ready to see it, but he was on a mission and he fucked up, he deserved to know just how spectacularly he did it. 
You also motioned to Natasha, and she started the video. However, you could barely keep your eyes on the screen, instead, your eyes were glued to your beloved soldier’s face, waiting with bated breath for his reaction. 
Bucky tensed as the video started with the security team breaking through your door, leaving it broken and barely on its hinges as they rushed their way through the house. He took in a sharp breath as the video continued and he saw himself standing over you, the bunching of the sweatshirt making it evident that your baby- his baby- was fully exposed. But it wasn’t until he turned that Bucky’s body started to unwind, his expression still a mask of confusion as he saw you grab the assassin’s hand, his grip giving a comforting squeeze. 
“He…” 
Bucky’s heart twinged with conflicted feelings as you called out to the team, begging them not to shoot, while still pleading with him to stand down. He could see the look in the Soldier’s eyes, but it wasn’t one he recognized… It was tangled; a war between gentleness, vulnerability, and the unrelenting fight he had had beaten into him years and years ago. The Soldier stood unyielding, shielding the most vulnerable parts of you with his body as he brandished the small knife.
“He was… protecting you…?” Bucky whispered as he looked away, turning his eyes to your teary ones. Despite trying to blink them away, a few still found their escape down your cheeks.
“It’s all he wanted…” You nodded, trying to fight back the renewing well in your eyes, but you knew how it all ended, and though you knew he was still alive you couldn’t help but feel the loss of him still. “ He just wanted a place to call home, a place to be safe…” 
Bucky’s hand gripped yours, giving its own reassuring squeeze as he turned back to the screen. ‘My Sun…’ he called you, pure reverence and love in his voice that Bucky had never expected to hear from him. ‘My Star…’ you had called him back, desperate and pleading eyes as he turned back to you. 
The security team shouted at him to comply again, and the body cam shifted, showing a young kid whose gun trembled as if he was in the middle of a terrible earthquake. The woman wearing the camera recognized his anxiety and tried to talk him down, but he couldn’t listen and his gun went off with a bang. Bucky could see the kid’s surprise as he accidentally pulled the trigger, and the fear as you clutched desperately to your wounded leg. 
He winced as he saw the assassin’s cold expression return and again as a shot lodged square into his shoulder. He knew what was coming before he even lifted the kid in the air, your begging and crying out for his life ringing loudly in the background. No wonder you had been so adamant about defending him, he had done just the same for you. 
When the kid was dropped, yet still breathing and the Soldier returned to you Nat finally cut off the video, sighing a bit at the overbearing air of the room. 
Everything was quiet for a moment as Bucky took in the weight of the video until Sam and Steve broke the silence. 
“We were able to convince him to come back to the tower to be reset after that…”
“He was the one who patched up Y/n’s leg, and vice versa…”
You nodded in agreement, wiping your dry cheeks as you felt tears beginning to return, “He knew he had to go… and he was happy to do so. I think…” You took a breath as Bucky reached over to wipe the falling tears, “I think he was just happy to know he finally had more, more than one purpose.” 
Quietly Natasha waved everyone else from the room, giving you two much-needed space. 
“That’s why I’m so sure, Bucky... He would never hurt us,” you rested your hand on your belly, “He took bullets for us, just like I know you would- and I have no doubt that he’d do it again. And god, Buck- he loves her so much,” you choked out a sob as you spoke, “He promised her the absolute world and he can’t wait to meet her…” 
“Doll…” 
“And I can’t wait either,” you said firmly despite your current teary disposition, “I’m glad I finally met him, Bucky. Because despite the separation you and the team refer to him with he is still a part of you.” You looked into the softening eyes of your beloved as you continued “And I know he’s not a part you’re proud of but that won’t make him disappear. I know the things he’s done, and I know that you blame yourself for them, but his actions are not yours….” You said.
“I can’t condone the things he’s done, but I know what he’s doing now, and I know that no matter what you think of him I love every part of you, James Barnes. Even the parts you don’t want me to see.”
Bucky’s eyes blinked as they looked down trying to contain the swell of emotions creeping dangerously close to the edge. Slowly he lifted your hand to his lips, kissing your palm like it was worship, “I love you so much, Y/n… I’m sorry I didn't listen before. And though it still makes me hesitate, I’m glad you finally know who he is. He- We are beyond lucky to have you, and even luckier that you somehow manage to love the both of us. I was worried you’d hate me for him...” 
“Oh, my heart… I could never stop loving you in any way that would last.”
_____________
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