What’s Said and Unsaid

Pairing: College athlete!Bucky x Reader

Summary: A stupid text thread. Tires he didn’t switch out. The New York snow. All things Bucky Barnes wished hadn’t ruined Christmas. 

Word count: 3.5k

Warnings: Angst, Bucky is idiot, minor injury

a/n: This is the fifth one-shot/drabble for my series ‘For the Love of the Game’! Some insight on Bucky still being a little new to relationships. I’m a little too excited for Christmas. 

I discontinued my taglist, but you can follow my library blog @pellucid-library​​ for notifications 🤍

Series Materlist // Main Masterlist

You knew you shouldn’t have looked, but it just kept vibrating—one after another. Bucky didn’t usually get so many messages, not on Friday nights at least. Those were reserved for you, and he let the team know that as soon as you started dating. 

You were more worried than anything. What if something happened with his family, or one of your friends? Maybe you were missing something—plans that both of you had forgotten about. And Bucky was in the bathroom; if it was an emergency, there wasn’t any time to wait for him to come back. 

So you picked it up, the screen quickly unlocking when your face met the camera. And just as quickly, you wished you hadn't looked.

You busy tonight? 

Come on Bucky. I thought we were friends again. :(

You said you would think about it! Completely ignoring me is not thinking about it. 

I’ll bring you a Christmas sweater if you come to the dorms rn ;) 

Uncomfortable tears pricked your eyes as you read each message; whether they were from hurt or anger, you couldn’t tell. Stephanie's name glared at you from the top of the screen, and the texts just kept loading. The more you scrolled up, the more there were. 

You didn’t take the time to read the rest—you’d seen enough. The fact that you had no idea he was still talking to her was enough to cut through your skin. When you heard the bathroom door open and the sink shut off, you knew what emotion to assign to your tears. Betrayal. Because Bucky had said he was done with those people. Not only the people, but the parties too. So why the hell was an old fling texting him about some dorm kickback? 

“I was thinkin’ we could get some hot chocolate before we head out,” Bucky called from down the hall. His footsteps got closer. “But you gotta make sure you wear those boots my Ma got you, because the sidewalk’s gonna be—” 

Your glistening waterline stopped him in his tracks. You had stood from the couch and had his phone hanging from your fingers. He took a step forward, and you took one back. 

“Doll? What’s goin’ on? You okay?” He eyed his phone, but his expression gave nothing away. The ignorance infuriated you. 

“I don’t know, you tell me, Bucky. You have somewhere else to be tonight?”

“Of course I don’t. Tell me what’s got you so worked up.” 

You huffed at the concern in his voice, tossing the offensive item on the couch without care. “Don’t think I need to tell you. You should already know.” 

Bucky took a cautious step forward, leaning down to grab it, but not breaking eye contact with you until he did. The screen lit up the confusion on his face first, and then continued to light up the panic. He scrolled down a little to see the most recent messages, and his eyes shot to you in alarm. 

“Oh, doll, this isn’t—”

“It’s not what it looks like, right? That’s what you're going to say?”

“Yes, but it’s not. She—we had to work on a project for a class.” The phone looked awkward in his hands; he held it out in front of him as if it were foreign. 

You let an unwanted laugh slip past your lips. “A project? That’s why you’re ‘considering’ some dorm party?” 

He tried to get closer to you, fingers extending in a fruitless reach, but you retreated just as quickly as the first time. His eyes bounced between yours at a head aching speed. His head shook, with furrowed brows. 

“I only said that to get her off my back s’all. I told you I was done with that.” 

“So nothing to hide then?” you asked, crossing your arms defensively. 

“No, doll, nothing. I swear.” 

You nodded, disbelief bleeding through your gaze. “How long have you been doing this project?” 

His eyes fell almost instantly. A long, damning pause settled across the living room. Bucky knew he’d been keeping this from you. He had been trying to avoid this conversation entirely; he thought that the project would be over long before you’d ever realize who his assigned partner was. 

Not because he was doing anything wrong, but because this didn’t need to be an issue. 

Except now, it was. 

“About three weeks.” 

The fridge hummed from the kitchen. Bucky still wouldn’t look at you, but he could feel your eyes boring into the top of his head. Until they weren’t anymore. You looked at the wall instead, dumbfounded. 

You were sure your lip would be bleeding by the time this conversation was over; it hadn’t left its place between your teeth since he walked down the hall. You didn’t know how to feel. Bucky obviously wasn’t cheating on you, but keeping this from you felt dirty, purposeful. 

“You didn’t think—” you started, tone dangerously calm “—that maybe I’d want to know about that? That you’ve been spending your free time doing classwork with Stephanie of all people? And that she thinks you’re friendly enough to send you texts like that?” 

He slumped. “Doll, I didn’t keep it from you to make you upset.” 

“Then why did you?” 

You were still staring at the wall, and Bucky felt the frustration build up in his chest. He groaned. “To stop this from happening! I love you, okay? Getting paired up with her was annoying. That's it.” 

“You still should have told me, Bucky. That’s what couples do. You find out you have to partner up with someone you used to sleep with and you tell the. other. person.” 

“God,” he grumbled, hand thrown into his hair in frustration. “This is exactly why I avoided this kinda thing for so long!” 

Dead silence this time; the fridge turned off. 

You looked over at him with wide, wet eyes, and your chest moved with greater breaths. Bucky looked back at you with an increasing panic. He didn’t mean to say that; he was just frustrated, irrational. He certainly didn’t mean to leave you standing with hanging limbs and a furrowed brow, doubting everything he had ever told you; everything he had whispered in your ear in between cool sheets. 

When your eyes fell to your hands, bottom lip trembling, he spoke. “Baby—” 

You didn’t let him get through his first voice crack. “I didn’t realize I was such an inconvenience.” 

“You’re not,” Bucky rushed. He caught your hands as he surged forward. “I didn’t mean that. Baby, c’mon, I didn’t mean that.”

He leaned his head down to catch your gaze, but you refused to grant him with it. He clutched desperately at your fingers—trying to pull you against his chest—but you yanked yourself away at the first tug. 

“I think I’m just gonna go home for the night.” 

Dread. “What—y/n, I swear I was gonna tell you about her, but I didn’t want you to get upset. And I didn’t mean what I said. I love you. Just come—” 

“No, James.” You pushed back his pleading hands, stumbling toward your bag by the door. “No, I need some time to think you keep grabbing me and talking and just—it’s too much.” 

You quickly collected your things, fumbling with your keys and kicking your shoes on your feet. All of your movements were jerky and you didn’t know whether to feel angry or sad or if you should just cry and feel them both at once. 

Bucky was behind you the whole time, beseeching you to stay, telling you he didn’t mean to. You weren’t trying to exacerbate the situation, but you really did need space. Just a few hours maybe, so that you wouldn’t say something you didn’t mean. Like he did. 

“I’ll call you when I get home,” you finalized, fingers gripping the cool doorknob. 

“Baby, it’s snowing. It’s not safe out there.” 

“Thanks for the weather report.” The door slammed behind you. 

~~

Bucky invited Steve over.  

He wasn’t sure why—maybe it was a childhood comfort thing—but Steve told Bucky he was an idiot. Bucky knew that. You still hadn’t called him. 

“I don’t know how you thought that was gonna go over, Buck. I mean Stephanie, really? 

Bucky threw his head back on the couch. “It’s not like I had a choice. The professor said we weren’t allowed to change partners. Trust me—I tried.”

“Yeah,” Steve huffed. “But you didn’t tell your girl? And then you go spoutin’ some nonsense about not wanting a girlfriend? C’mon, Bucky, that’s just one bad move after another.” 

“I didn’t mean I didn’t want a girlfriend, you punk. Obviously I love her. I just meant the whole mess of it all. Everything gettin’ all complicated and ugly.” 

“You did that.” Steve pointed his soda at the pitcher, accusing eyes thrown his way. “You’re lucky she didn't just dump your ass right there. Nat’s threatened more for less.” 

“My Ma’s gonna be so pissed at me,” Bucky sighed. “We were supposed to be at her house in an hour for Christmas presents. And she's gonna be even more pissed when she realizes why y/n’s not there.” 

“Again—” 

“Yeah, yeah. You don’t gotta rub it in, alright?” 

Steve threw his hands up in defeat and busied himself on his phone. Realistically, he knew Steve was going to be the hardest on him about this; maybe that’s why he invited him over. He deserved to be told off, honestly. Calling Natasha might’ve been the better bet for that one. Although Bucky suspected he’d be getting an earful as soon as you called him anyway. 

If you ever called him. 

A phone rang. Bucky shot up to grab his from the table. 

“It’s mine, man, sorry. Just Nat,” Steve sympathized, holding it up to his ear. 

Bucky tuned him out after that; the other couple had plans for the evening, and were probably just checking in with each other beforehand. But before Bucky could get too comfortable wallowing in his self pity, Steve shot up from the couch. 

“What? Where? Closer to you or to me? Does she want—okay, okay I’m going right now.” He turned to his friend, eyes wide. “I, uh, have to go.” 

“What? What happened, Steve?” Bucky rushed, following him to the door in a flurry. People really didn’t want to be at his apartment today. 

“Nothing. I’ll call you when I have more info, I just really have to go.” 

Bucky caught Steve’s arm, a firm grip intended to push an answer out of his friend. “Is it y/n?” 

He didn’t need a verbal answer; Steve had always been bad at lying. Bucky was pulling his shoes on the moment the first baseman’s eyes got shifty. His fingers fumbled with each lace, fear suddenly impairing his movements. 

“Buck—” 

“What happened?” He ignored the protests, grabbing his jacket and yanking the front door open as if his life depended on it. 

He could feel the hesitance behind him as he raced down the slippery steps to his apartment. Steve held his lies in his shoulders, and right now, the man was as stiff as a board. A small glance over his shoulder confirmed as much, but Bucky was more concerned with the conversation on the phone earlier. 

“Steve, I’m goin’ with you whether you like it or not so you better just tell me.”

“She got into a wreck. Something about black ice and a taxi spinning out, I’m not sure. Nat just said she was closer to yours than to campus.” 

Bucky took a beat. “And you weren’t gonna fucking tell me?” he raged. He had half a mind to smack his friend over the head. You were his girl—fighting or not. Steve should’ve told him. 

“Well, Nat just thought—” 

Bucky wasn’t going to let Steve finish a single sentence after that monstrosity he let slip. “I don’t really give a damn what Nat thought. My girl gets in a fucking wreck and you tell me, Rogers.” 

He slammed the car door shut with an angry grunt and let his body shake as Steve got in beside him. He was angry, but more than that, he was worried. He searched through his mind, trying to remember if he changed your tires for the snow, but of course he didn’t. You were going to do that next week. This week, Bucky was just going to drive your car for you—to be more safe. 

Yet another thing he screwed up. 

“Did Nat say if she was okay?” Bucky choked out. His hands were curled up on his knees, turning white from the pressure. “She is okay, right?”

Steve adjusted his grip on the wheel. “She didn’t tell me anything.” 

The seatbelt was digging into Bucky’s neck. He angrily yanked it away from his skin and felt a cold sweat wash over him. He was blaming himself. If he had just told you about that dumb project with Stephanie, you would have never left; never been driving your car on a slick road with no snow tires. 

His knee started to shake. You would be fine. It’s not like Steve was driving him to the hospital. But every possible variation of you being seriously hurt still played in Bucky’s mind like some horror movie, and his body started to shake along with his leg. 

“This isn’t your fault, Buck. And we might get there and she won’t want to see you,” Steve offered. He turned down another street.

“Just shut up and drive the damn car.” 

He did. Until he couldn’t anymore. It wasn’t hard to create traffic in New York City, but Bucky was used to the different kinds. Construction work, broken traffic lights, car crashes. This traffic was definitely from a car crash. 

He flung the door open just as Steve stopped behind a minivan, his old tennis shoes slipping against the ice. 

“Bucky—wait you shouldn’t just—” The door slammed on Steve’s speech. Bucky didn’t really care if you were mad at him, or if he was mad at you. If you were hurt or scared, there wasn’t any situation he could fathom that would make him stay away from you. 

The run to the scene wasn’t his most graceful; the ice beneath his feet made him slip on multiple occasions, leaning against parked cars to steady himself. You would probably laugh at him if you weren’t the reason he was running so erratically. 

He saw your car before he saw you—wrapped around a tree and completely totaled on the side. Luckily, it was the passenger side, but his stomach still twisted at the sight. And then he saw you, tucked into a blanket, sitting on the back of an ambulance with tear-soaked cheeks and a broken posture. He continued his sloppy run until you caught sight of him. 

“Bucky?” you called. Your voice cracked as you stood. “Bucky!”

He wrapped you up in him as soon as he could reach you. His shaky hand gripped the back of your head, while the other tightened around the blanket covering your back. He let his eyes squeeze shut when his nose pressed to your hair, a million thoughts racing through his mind with hardly any outlet to explain them. 

“You alright, baby? Scared the shit outta me.” 

You pressed further into him. “The EMTs said I was okay. Just a few scrapes and bruises.” 

“Oh my god.” You could feel his arms tremble as he pulled you back. “I’m so fucking sorry. All I could think about when I heard was how sorry I was. I was an asshole and I was wrong and fuck am I happy you’re okay.” 

“You—you can’t keep things like that from me. We’re supposed to be a team now Bucky, you and me.” 

The adrenaline from the crash was beginning to dissipate in your veins, and your teeth were chattering. Bucky’s lips were warm against your forehead, but very little was going to completely warm you under these conditions; when most of your cold was from shock. 

“I know, baby, I know. I’m still learnin’ but that shouldn’t have even been a question. Never again, alright? Especially when it leads to this. When my girl could’ve—” He had to take a long breath from his nose before he could continue, a panic sob threatening to rip from his chest. “I’ve wanted you so bad, for so long. I don’t wanna mess it up. And I don’t want to lose you.” 

His last words were punctuated by a tighter grip; he was grappling with the back of your head as he pulled you closer and closer, allowing himself to feel what he repressed on the car ride over. 

“Buck, I’m alive, okay? I’m here and I’m fine. Maybe with a few seatbelt burns, but I’m not dead.” 

“I hear ya,” he whispered, but his body began to sway against yours. “Just give me a sec to feel you, yeah?.” 

You closed your eyes and listened to the erratic pace of Bucky’s heart. There was still so much commotion surrounding you; firetrucks and police and the watchful crowd beyond the barrier. But Bucky needed to hold you, so you let him. You were only transported outside the comfort of his body when another hand found its way on your back. Steve, you gathered. 

“She okay?” he asked Bucky. The vibrations in his chest as he answered tickled at your cheek. “She still want to go back to the dorms? Natasha can’t get through traffic, but I can bring her back.” 

Bucky pulled back, gentle eyes fixed on you. “What d’you wanna do, doll? You want to go back with Stevie?” 

“No, I think I want to go to your mom’s.” Bucky opened his mouth to protest. Your cheeks were still glistening and your car was wrapped around a tree; Winnie would understand if you needed to take a raincheck. But you needed the comfort. “I think going there would make me feel better.” 

A sad smile. “Alright, doll, anything you want.” 

~~

Winnie Barnes was in a state. 

The second you walked through that door looking like a mess in Bucky’s overprotective arms, she had you whisked away. Your new home on her couch was surrounded by blankets and pillows and way too much hot chocolate. She had Bucky bringing in plate after plate of cookies as well, which he didn’t appreciate; he was still a little shaken by the day's events, and wanted nothing more than to be beside you.

“I’m going to put on the Charlie Brown Christmas movie for you, okay, honey? Bucky always loved that growing up.” 

“Ma, she doesn't—”

“I don’t want to hear a word out of you James Buchanan Barnes,” she shot out. Winnie had been informed of everything that happened. “You will sit down and apologize to that girl until you’re blue in the face.” 

Bucky grimaced, but took his place beside you almost immediately. He grabbed a cookie from one of the plates, side-eyeing his mom with caution. “I really am sorry, doll.” He passed the cookie to you, sliding his under arm under the blankets to wrap around your waist. “Couldn’t be more sorry, actually. Let me make it up to you?”

“God, you sound just like your father. The two of you have got nothing in those big heads of yours.” 

“Ma!”

This was exactly what you needed; family, Bucky, six-dozen gingerbread cookies. The day couldn’t have started out any worse, but the cinnamon and pine in the air of the Barnes’ home was enough to suck any heartache out of you. That, and the way that Bucky kept groveling, hands brushing at your skin and whispers directed at your ear. 

Whispers that were a lot more meaningful than the staged apology for his mom. 

When Winnie left the room for another bag of frozen peas for your barely bruised shoulder, Bucky tugged you closer. You were practically on his lap at this point, the blankets creating a barrier between you, but not enough to mask his touch. You giggled when his fingers met your waist. 

“There’s my girl,” he smiled against your cheek, a kiss pressed there for good measure. “I’m gonna try my best to only get that sound from you. No more crying, baby, alright? And I’m gonna mess up, but you gotta know I love you. Even when the brain in my big head isn’t working.” 

The opening piano of A Charlie Brown Christmas danced in the air as you whispered back, “I love you too, Buck. Even when your brain isn’t working.” 

That was the type of apology Winnie was looking for. 

She looked on fondly from the kitchen. Bucky Barnes really was like his father. In the best ways. 

Series Taglist: @hauntedmuffinpersonarascal @punkmccqll @unbeatablecurlgirl @moncheriemoony @shawnie--jo @emmabarnes @currentfication @bakugouswh0r3 @vghz82 @blossomedfloweroflove @bonkybarneslover @yeahsarcasmismyonlydefence @arctic-duchess @keepingitlokiii @slut4supersoldiers @toothhurtyam @justab-eautifulmess @lianadare18 @enlyume @silentkiller2374 @woahmrstark @itsgioduarte @teenagedreams-bucky @maladaptivexxdaydreaming @intrepidacious @pastelpoppies @ajeff855 @boofy1998 @starlightcrystalline @nipple-twisting-washing-machine @themealtime @captainjaspenor @doasyoudesireandlive @luc-ale @fanfictionjunkie1112 @theokatz @ene-rene @buttybarnes1917 @yelenabeloveme @birminghambabe @feffffffy @lililouvre @cumberpeepz @harpersmariano @importantsoulfire @just-that-dumb-bitch @pineprincess​ @s-r-clowns​ @bahama-mama-llama​ @elbell20-blog​ @nerdy-bookworm-1998​ @j2brosforlife-spn​ @missusbarnes-rogers​ @what-a-beautiful-mess-i-made @nora-the-simp-of-mischieff @hannahsateacup​ @calwitch​ @la-cey​ @ali-r3n​

the first time reader meets beefy alpha bucky and she’s just at a loss for words, or sometimes he catches her staring bc all she can think about is being wrapped up in those arms 😍😍

He knows you have a crush on him. Your already sweet scent gets even sweeter when you see him. He doesn't have to look up to know you're there, he's been watching you too. Thinking about how your lips would feel on his and how soft you are, always wondering if you would gasp the first time he takes you or if you're more of a moaner. Either way he knows you're going to stun him.

late nights 

bucky x reader 

summary: late nights with Bucky while everyone else at the compound are sleeping. that’s it.

warnings: none, this is just fluff, unless, if you squint really hard, you might be able to find some angst in there

word count: 1,123

“We shouldn’t be here.”

“I know.” Bucky gave her a big smile and just like that all her worries washed away. She’d suffer through Tony’s disappointed lectures for this smile. He was jittery with excitement by the time they reached the compound’s pool. A full moon hanged above the two as they came to a stop. It illuminated Bucky’s face beautifully, y/n thought; like a painting its master spent years creating.

“Ready when you are.” She stuck out her hand. Bucky didn’t hesitate to take it. Y/n barely managed to take in a breath before Bucky jumped into the pool, clothes still on, bringing her down with him. Despite it being deep into summer the water was icy cold. Their wet clothes uncomfortably leached onto their bodies. Wrapping his arms around y/n’s waist, Bucky swam upwards until both of their heads peaked from above the water’s surface. He laughed when y/n had to place her hands on his shoulders just to stay afloat. The outside pool was much deeper than most and even Bucky had to straighten up to reach the very bottom without getting fully submerged. “It’s weird to be awake when everyone else is sleeping.”

“Wouldn’t know.” Bucky shrugged and y/n’s heart shattered. If there was a way for her to take his nightmares, she would. Every single one, each more terrifying than the last, no, she wouldn’t care. She’d take them all if it meant Bucky could finally rest. “You’re wet and shivering.”

“Top 3 things you could also say in the bedroom!” Y/n joked. “Good one, Sherlock.”

But his words gave her an idea. A rather bold idea she might regret. They were friends, yes, they were close, yes. But were they that close? Close enough for Bucky to feel comfortable if she took off her clothes? Letting go of his shoulders, y/n swam to the edge and pushed herself upwards until most of her body was out of the water. While the water was cold, the chilly air against her skin felt even more bitter. Bucky had an amused expression when she sat down on the edge.

“I sense trouble.” Bucky chuckled, swimming up to edge and resting his elbow on it.

“No-“ Y/n mumbled, stumbling over her words. “No trouble.” She added, peeling her top off right after. Y/n hoped his reaction would be good, but she didn’t expect a smile so big it took up half of Bucky’s face. A smile so genuine she had forgotten what it looked like.

“Naughty.” He teased. Bucky didn’t move because there was no need for it. He had all the time in the world to take off his own top. For now he relished in the glorious sight that was y/n. All the doubts she had about the idea were long gone; as if Bucky’s adoring staring had wiped them clean. Slowly, she removed her shoes before taking off her jeans too, throwing everything in a messy pile.

“Your turn.” She said and Bucky shook his head no. Y/n could sense his nervous demeanour underneath the playful facade.

“I have scars. Big ones.” He said nonchalantly. “Many of them.”

“I know.” Was the only thing y/n was able to reply with even though she didn’t. There wasn’t a way she’d know. “I think scars are beautiful.”

One sentence was enough to melt Bucky’s heart. She trusted him enough to take off her own clothing, so there was no reason he couldn’t do the same. Unsure, he slowly peeled off his top, throwing it on top of the pile. Perhaps he let his body move on its own. Admitting his love for y/n would be too scary. 

“These are staying.” He pointed to his jeans, but y/n could barely see them from above the water. Sliding back into the pool, she rested one hand on Bucky’s shoulder.

“These ones?” She tugged at the fabric on his thighs. Laughing, Bucky placed her other arm on his shoulder. Y/n wasn’t the only one making bold moves tonight. He quickly wrapped her legs around his waist as if to not let himself think the idea through. He let out a relieved sigh when the girl laced her hands around his neck. And so they stood in the icy water, faces just inches away from its surface, staring at each other. The loving kind of stare. The I-want-to-spend-the-rest-of-my-life-with-you kind of look; a look no friends share. “I think your scars are the most beautiful I’ve ever seen.” Y/n whispered upon looking down. She timidly kissed a big scar where his flesh meets metal. Bucky had a bewildered look on when their eyes met again.

“Don’t-“ He stuttered. “Don’t say that.”

“Why not?” She kissed the scar again. “They are.” She kissed a smaller one on his chest, then a fresh flaw on his right upper bicep. But she didn’t stop there. Y/n peppered kisses on every single line, every cut, every scar she could reach while clinging to Bucky. “They tell the marvellous story of what a strong man Bucky Barnes is. How he keeps on fighting and how he won’t give up.”

“I don’t want to be friends anymore.” Bucky stated. This was true. He didn’t want to keep on looking at y/n from the other side of the room and have to endure other man flirting with his woman. He didn’t want to pretend his playful touches were everything else other than flirting. Bucky was tired of having y/n so close, yet so far away. Touch, but never savour.

It was un unsettling feeling. Y/n was almost sure she pushed it too far until Bucky stopped her right before she could remove her body from his.

“I love you.” He started out. “If you would ask to me collect every star our universe has to offer, I would.” Bucky pushed her hair out of her face. “I would do anything for you.”

This was enough of a confirmation as y/n crashed her lips with his. The whole world seemed to stop for a moment. There was no more burning of the freezing water or the icy wind. No sounds of late night travellers passing by. No one else, just y/n and Bucky as their lips moved together. With her head spinning, y/n weaved her left hand into his hair. Closer, please, I want you closer. She was sure Bucky could understand what her actions meant. She was right. By the time they pulled away for air there was no space left between them. And as the outside world slowly came to life again, y/n had already decided upon her whole world being the man in front of her. James Buchanan Barnes. The man with many scars and secrets she’d do anything for.

Bucky: What if I press the brake and gas at the same time?

Y/N: The car takes a screenshot.

Tony: For the last time, get the fuck out.

Kinktober Day 10: Wax Kink

SUMMARY// "How was work, peach?"

WARNINGS// smut, wax kink, unprotected sex, praise kink, cursing

AU// Firefighter!Bucky x f!reader

NOTE// slowly making my way through these 😅 hopefully not much longer

KINKTOBER MASTERLIST

18+ ONLY, MINORS DNI

The moment that raspy "how was work, peach?" Slipped pass his plump lips as you started to change- you were certain he'd been thinking of it the whole time you were at work.

You knew what was about to happen the moment you walked into the shared bedroom and saw the two special candles. Lit and carefully placed on the nightstand with Bucky no where to be seen.

The bright smile holding something wicked as be peppered kisses to your face to welcome you home. You still weren't sure how this Bucky was the same one you'd met almost a year before.

Your sweet, polite Bucky with the sparkling smile that lit up his whole face and who held doors open for anyone behind him; turned out to be even filthier than you'd ever imagined.

Taking his time to carefully drip the wax onto the more sensitive parts of your skin. Inner thighs, valley of your breasts, the spots just above your nipples. Anywhere he seemed fit.

All while the heavy weight of his cock rested against your clit.

You could feel the vein that ran on the underside of his shaft throbbing, occasionally getting a roll of his hips to relieve a little bit of the ache that burned deep in your core.

"Doin' s'good, peach. Takin' all of me." He groaned, easing in slowly. Making sure you could feel every inch as your walls stretched around him until he was fully seated in your cunt.

"Bucky, move." You whined, rocking your hips up when he dipped down to catch your lips in his. Another devious smile tugging his lips before he pulled out again.

"Oh, you're no fair." You huffed out, your thighs twitching slightly as he tapped his swollen head to your clit. "Mhm, you love it." He grinned, his heavy body trapping you against the plush mattress. All thick, tanned muscle and metal. Glistening from the thin layer of sweat that coated his skin.

"I'll give you what ya' want, sugar. Just this once." Bucky hummed, bionic hand going between your bodies to guide himself back into your warmth. "Been so good, how could I not." He rasped, nosing at your jaw.

You didn't even have to look to see the cocky smirk on his face when he stopped halfway, wedging his right arm under your lower back when your hand reached out for the plump flesh of his ass.

"Stop teasing, please." You mumbled, lips tracing over his pulse point as your other hand tangled in his silky, long hair. "M'not teasing, sugar. Jus' taking my time. You look s'pretty like this." Bucky's words were almost slurred from the shudder that ran down his spine when you tugged lightly at the strands of hair.

He started slow, keeping his thrusts short and slow to have you teetering on the edge before sitting up more to look at your blissed out expressions. His pace gradually picking up with every flutter of your walls around him.

"So beautiful, peach." He huffed out, hips slamming into yours as your fingers dug into the swell of his ass.

You only whined in response, the warmth flooding your veins making it hard to do anything else as he sat straighter. Cold, metal hand cupping your breast before gliding down your abdomen to feel the wax that coated spots as he rode you through the aftershocks with short, harsh thrusts.

"Never seen anyone so perfect, give me one more and I'll fill you up." Bucky panted, pressing deliberate circles to your sensitive bud as your body writhed under him. The pleasure wracked look on your face making him moan lowly.

"Buc-" a whine of his name died on your tongue as the white hot heat surged your body again. His thrusts becoming frantic when your cunt clamped down on his again. "Make a fuckin' mess, sugar. Feels s'good-" he grunted, struggling to keep his eyes from shutting.

You hooked your ankles together at the base of his back to pull him deeper. Feeling every twitch of his cock as his spend coated your walls in thick spurts, the choked out moan that tore from his throat making you whimper and blink your eyes open.

Met with a true masterpiece when they focused more.

Bucky's dark hair falling forward as his body started to relax, the long, gentle thrusts prolonging the euphoric feeling for both of you before he slipped out. Settling on his back beside you.

You turned your head to the remaining candle that continued to burn, a lazy smirk tugging your lips as you reached out for it.

"What're you doin', peach?" He hummed, grazing his metal knuckles along your spine.

Without saying anything, you moved to straddle his waist. Holding the candle in your hand as you looked down at him. Imagining the way the muscles of his abdomen would tense if you'd dripped some of the liquid to his smooth skin.

"Your turn, Buck."

Chosen

Pairing: Bucky x reader, Steve Rogers x reader (Stucky Vampire AU)

Word Count: 596

Summary: Bucky and Steve bring you a gift. 

Author’s Note: This is for the HBC’s @the-ss-horniest-book-club​ Kinky Halloween celebration and day 20 and the prompt monster and temperature play. Went with monster on this and brought back our favorite Vampire boys. This is sort of of a part 1 to something that will come later in the month. Hope you enjoy and thank you so very much for reading! Much love always! ❤❤❤ Divider by the lovely @imerdwarf​

Warnings: soft, romantic feels, implied smut, light smut, teasing, mentions of blood (18 + ONLY PLEASE!!!)

**The two edits of Bucky and Steve in my moodboard were done by my beautiful friend Nix, they are not mine! All my love and thanks to her! 🥰

Kinktober Masterlist 2021

You stand at the large glass windows, watching as a soft but luminous light starts to fill the sky. The smell of the forest wafts through the windows, slightly damp with the dew of the approaching dawn.

“It’s always beautiful at this time, isn’t it?”

Bucky’s arm slides around your waist and you lean your head against his shoulder.

“It is,” you whisper, turning your gaze to him.

“Almost as beautiful as you,” he purrs, smiling softly.

His lips brush yours and you can taste the lingering blood, your heart quickening. You moan into his mouth and his hands slide up to cup your breasts. They knead the soft flesh as he presses you against the cool glass, reaching up to tilt your head back so he can better claim your lips.

Your fingers slide up his thigh and you rub your hand over the hardness confined to his pants.

“James,” you gasp.

“I would take you right here and now if it weren’t for the gift that awaits you in the sitting room. I want you to see it before the light of the sun paints the sky.”

You still and turn your body so you can look directly into his eyes.

“What gift could be better than this?” you ask as your fingers close around him.

He growls low, throbbing in your hand and his fangs flash against his plush lips.

“You’re a brat,” he admonishes, releasing you and taking your hand. “Come. We will have plenty of time to play tonight.”

You walk with him down the long hallway, the candlelight dancing off the lofty ceilings as the flames flicker from your movement. Before you even enter the sitting room the smell of fresh blood invades your senses and the rapid thrumming of an unfamiliar heartbeat fills your ears.

Steve stands alongside the couch, leaning against the marble side table that gleams in what’s left of the fading moonlight. You greet him with an intense kiss before acknowledging what he has for you.

The sound of the struggling human pulls you away from Steve’s lips and you look down into a pair of bright blue eyes. You smile sweetly, displaying your fangs when you see the two puncture wounds in the man’s neck.

“Did you two have a taste of my gift before me?” you ask, not taking your eyes off the stranger. “You know I don’t like things that have been spoiled.”

“Only to make sure he was sweet enough for you baby girl.” Steve answers, smiling devilishly when you grin and sit down next to your new friend.

You run your fingers through his lush beard before ghosting them down his broad chest.

“Aren’t you a pretty thing?” you coo, noting the way his breath hitches at your touch.

The man struggles against his invisible ties but the moment you press your finger to his lips he calms and the tension in his shoulders disappears. You ghost your mouth across his and reach down to graze your fingers over his thigh.

With a sigh he closes his eyes as your nose traces along the thick column of his neck and you gently nip at his pulse point. You can feel the blood rushing through his vessels and it’s hard to refrain from having a taste of your own.

“We thought you might like a new plaything,” Bucky simpers.

“Does he have a name?” you ask, looking from Steve to Bucky.

Before either of them can answer the man at your side speaks in a breathy whisper.

“Andy. My name is Andy.”

@book-dragon-13 @dreamlessinparis​ @hiddles-rose​ @jhangelface0523​ @jewels2876​ @loricameback​ @lookiamtrying​ @marvelgirl7​ @musicalmuffindog1410​ @nano--raptor​ @randomfandompenguin​ @starlightcrystalline​ @suchababie​ @silentkiller2374​ @creatingjana​ @moongreydreams​ @maladaptivexxdaydreaming​ @saiyanprincessswanie @in-umbra-gratia

New Resident

fictober day 21 | “What did I say?”

summary | Bucky had always had this weakness towards animals. Always.

fandom | Marvel

pairing | TFATWS!Bucky x fem!Reader

warnings | none, fluff

word count | 457

author’s note | **mini cuteness attack alert** hope you like it! feedback is always appreciated <33

🍁 fictober 2021 masterlist 🍁 Bucky Barnes masterlist 🍁

You and Bucky had already discussed the subject a thousand times.

It was a solid plan you pretended to follow. You’d move somewhere bigger as soon as the both of you retired from all the fighting, not necessarily that big but enough to be more comfortable than the small apartment. Then you’d get a cat — that part would probably end in more than one for sure. The apartment was just too small and you’d always be away on missions with Sam, you didn’t know how you’d take care of a living being like that.

No animals in the apartment. That’s what you both decided in a very serious talk.

So the moment you opened the door and faced that unusual scene no one could blame you for being surprised. You sighed deeply at the image of the supersoldier carrying the small white ball in his arms, the look on his face was adorable.

“What did I say?” You asked him, the warning look on your face contrasted with the surging grin you tried to hide. “No, what did we talk about?”

“No cats in the apartment.” He mumbled a bit embarrassed about being caught but still looking at the kitty in his arms with a child-like expression.

You let him step into the apartment, closing the door right away and crossing your arms in front of your chest while you waited for an explanation. Damn, Bucky could always convince you by himself, now with the kitty cradled in his arms… You were doomed.

“Doll, I promised you I tried to go away when she looked at me in the street, but the Alpine kept following me and…”

“You gave her a name?”

“Well, I couldn’t keep calling her little thing or kitty all the way here, right? She’d be offended.”

“You’re unbelievable, James.” You kept trying to keep a serious face at him, but it was getting harder - not harder impossible. “Let me see her.” You broke, not even embarrassed that it happened that easy.

Both of you sat on the floor and Bucky moved the little cat to your lap with the most care in the world. The moment that tiny white furry ball was placed in your lap your already warm heart melted just like butter. It was the way she tried to hide in your shirt, even if she was still fast asleep.

“Alpine suits her.” You noted, caressing her head.

The look on his face turned to one of the widest smiles you have ever seen. “You called her Alpine.”

“I did.” You said still looking at the kitty. Your kitty.

“So that means we can keep her?”

You said the next words hugging Alpine carefully to prove your point. “What do you think?”

call it what you want | b.b.

my baby’s fit like a day dream, walking with his head down, i’m the one he’s walking to

pairing: bucky barnes x reader

warnings: just beautiful domestic fluff

word count: 2155

summary: bucky uses touch and you use words.

note: the world’s a little blurry is BACK BABY this is my on going one shot series between bucky and the reader! they don’t need to be read in order but they do fit into a bigger narrative. :)

enjoy! <3

you approach bucky from behind— for a moment, you think you’ve surprised him as you touch his shoulder blades. but he relaxes easily into your touch, pouring himself a low glass of whiskey from a crystal decanter. you didn’t even know that you had a decanter-- or whiskey.

if you could pick any way to frame bucky in your minds eye for the rest of your life, it would be just like this. the remnants of a cold winter still cling to the new york air, but spring is hopefully trudging through to the other side, leaving the air outside crisp and fresh. something that’s rare for brooklyn. your windows are open and you allow the light breeze to travel inside. bucky’s arms are bare-- he wears a simple black t shirt.

how is it that a black t shirt can look so good?

you’re thankful that bucky is home. it has felt like it has been a lifetime-- you’ve been working overtime in order to keep yourself busy, and to keep yourself from your incessant worrying. you have to remind yourself that you don’t have the average boyfriend. you have a super soldier avenger boyfriend. it’s going to be different.

but you had watched in horror at what john walker had done in latvia. you had felt your stomach turn inside out and you couldn’t help but call bucky. you had tried not to call or text too often-- you trust him, and you trust that he’s doing what he needs to do. there’s a piece of you that doesn’t want him to think you’re just sitting at home and fussing over him.

but fuck that.

you had called, and he had answered. and one of the first things he said was, “i’m coming home to you.”

later, you would find out that karli had threatened you, and had threatened sam’s sister. later, you would find out that you would be taking a flight out to louisiana.

you were in the middle of packing when you had walked out into the kitchen and found bucky there. even from here, you can see how tense he is-- you were troubled by what you saw on tv with john walker and the flag smasher. you can only imagine seeing it in person-- seeing what was once steve’s being used for something so horrible.

you lay your head between his shoulder blades and you can feel him begin to ease. your fingers trail up his arms, and you bite back a laugh as he tries to refrain from the shiver that runs up his spine. “hi,” you murmur into the cloth of his shirt.

“hi, yourself.” bucky turns around and pushes your hair back. “y’alright?”

“i just love that shirt on you,” you admit with a shy smile. “so handsome.”

color blossoms on his cheeks and he covers his eyes with a hand. “you do this to get a reaction out of me, don’t you?”

you poke his stomach and you nod your head, biting down on your lip, trying to conceal a cheeky grin that threatens to break to the surface. “of course i do.” he catches your hand and he brings it to his lips. a chaste kiss against your knuckles. “what?”

he shrugs one shoulder and casts his gaze at you. “i missed you.”

every part of falling in love with bucky has been an adventure. but watching him become honest with himself, and with his feelings, and with his emotions… watching him unfurl before you has been a beauty. a wonder. the fact that you get to see it first hand, and know that it’s you that gets this opening… it makes something stir in your stomach every single time.

“i always miss you,” you admit, though you’re a lot less shy about it than bucky is. “always.”

bucky’s hands brush over the sides of your face, fingertips against your cheek bones. you know that this hasn’t been easy for him. it has been many, many years since he has fully allowed himself the luxury of comfort, and such an abundant amount like he has with you, no less. you know that sometimes he’s not sure the right things to say. but you’ve never cared. you have loved him anyway, and because of it.

you can feel his shaky breath rumble low in his chest. “i’m sorry,” he whispers, all low and vulnerable in that way that you know is so difficult. “that it has to be like this.”

like this translates more so to late nights spent alone, wondering if he’ll return. hoping that he’s okay. hoping that he’s smiled that day. but none of that matters. it doesn’t matter more than the love you feel for him, anyway.

you shake your head and you run your hand up and down his arm, the metal one. “don’t be,” those pretty eyes stare into yours. “you’re worth it. more than worth it. you’re--”

the words are stolen from your mouth and swallowed by his kiss, the soft brush of his hand against your cheek. this has always been the way he felt best at conveying his emotion towards you-- the words are tricky, but he has learned over the course of a lifetime just how much touch can affect another person. if you can help it, you will never let a hurtful thing touch him ever again.

when he comes home with bruises blossoming like wildflowers littered across his torso, you could kill anyone who ever caused him hard. in this decade and decades past.

your lips part and you sigh into him, holding onto him. his grip on your face is firm but still delicate, like you are precious glass that could break with the wrong touch.

bucky uses touch, you use words.

“i wish i could show you,” your nose brushes along his jaw. “how i see you.”

you don’t have to look at him to know that he’s smiling, to know that the familiar color has risen back to his cheeks. he takes a step back to get a good look at you, to take you in. another light breeze runs through your apartment and you feel it into your bones, or maybe that’s just the affect of such an intense gaze, and his eyes never leave you.

“i’m trying.” he gives a tight smile. and you know that it’s true. he is trying.

your fondness slips into a cheeky grin and your hand reaches out and smacks his ass. “you better be,” you say in a sing song voice, turning on your heel to trot off to your room to finish packing.

he follows after you with a grumble and your laughter fills the apartment, trailing out through the open window.

--

“we’re landing.”

a groan leaves your lips and you snuggle further into bucky’s shoulder. you feel fingers run through your hair, metal fingertips trailing along your scalp. it makes your breath hitch and your eyes finally flutter open, meeting his heavy gaze. there’s a lopsided smile on his face. “good morning, sleeping beauty.”

you smirk, eyes falling shut once more. “i could joke about you being old here, but i’m not going to.”

you feel the rumble of his laugh and you begin to rouse, stretching in your seat. bucky’s hand goes to your thigh and he glances out the window of the plane, watching as louisiana comes into view. you’d taken a red eye, because even avengers have to budget on flights, and you can see the faintest hint of a sunrise on the horizon.

glancing back over at bucky, you squint. “did you sleep at all?”

“someone had to keep watch.”

you gape at him. “are you serious?”

“as a heart attack.”

“we’re on a plane! what was going to happen?”

bucky shrugs. “didn’t want to find out.”

you let out a sound of exasperation, but he smiles, squeezing your thigh. “i’ll sleep at sam’s.” he turns your face to him. “swear.”

chewing on the inside of your cheek, you finally nod, rolling your eyes and mumbling something under your breath about so protective, and bucky won’t admit it, but it makes your heart swell.

the two of you get stares walking through the airport, and it doesn’t surprise you-- not when bucky’s arm is on display in all of its glory, catching the faint light of the orange sunrise in front of you at moments. glancing over at him, you could do a happy dance, seeing him look so at peace in his own body. his hand doesn’t leave yours as you weave through the airport, emerging to baggage claim, where sam stands there with a hand in his pocket and a sign that says lovebirds on it.

bucky’s scowl makes your whole day.

--

the moment you got to sarah’s house, you felt right at home. her boys were sweet, and so fascinated by bucky and the shield, it did things to your heart. you helped sarah with dinner and you all sat around that table the first night, sam and sarah swapping stories about their childhood, seeing who can embarrass who more.

sarah won.

you liked seeing this side of sam. it made the rest of him make sense, in the best way.

sam was off to a meeting-- someone named isaiah, and sarah went off to bed not long after, leaving just you and bucky, sat upon the couch you two would be sharing during your trip. his arm is draped across the back, his frame staying close to yours.

he yawns.

your whole face lights up. “you’re tired!” you exclaim as if it’s a delight. you grin, immediately standing and beginning to fluff out blankets, get pillows ready for your night of rest. it was going to be a pinch, but sharing a smaller couch with your hot boyfriend wasn’t exactly a gripe.

bucky stares at you with endless amusement, a twinkle in those beautiful blue eyes, keeping his arm across the back of the couch as you continue to flit around and prepare it for your slumber. “i’m not that tired…”

“don’t care,” you say with a contented smile, finally settling into the couch, draping your legs over his lap as he stays upright. “it’ll be a tight squeeze, you know.”

“really?” bucky asks, his hand going to your ankle. his thumb moves up and down the arch of your foot. (you’d bitched at the airport about your feet hurting, off hand. you wore your tallest platform boots that you didn’t want to pack in your suitcase.) “that’s a shame.”

you hum, a smirk on your face. “we’re going to have to stay real close.”

“well,” he leans down, coming face to face with you. “that’s gonna be a big problem for me.”

your eyebrows raise at him, and delight and intrigue mix on your face, and your hand goes to the back of his neck. “i can always find a hotel--”

his lips crash on yours, killing any other thought that you had in your head. all that there is is bucky, his touch, his lips, his kiss. it’s intoxicating in the best way, and your fingers rake down his scalp, pulling him down more and more and--

a light flicks on, and you hear a hissed, “shit, sorry!”

your and bucky’s heads turn in sync. aj, sam’s nephew, forgets to turn the light off as he spins on his heel and runs back up the stairs where he came from.

bucky turns bright red. you wake sarah with your raucous laughter.

and when you look at bucky, who has a sheepish smile on his face, his gaze turning back to you…

you’ve always been looking for home. and you’ve found it.

--

you return back to brooklyn the next week. a late winter, early spring cold front has come over the city, and there’s a frigid chill encompasses you. you’ve never noticed how much you love seeing bucky with his cheeks tinged red, hands stuffed into the pockets of his coat.

he carries your suitcase effortlessly up your six story walk up, and the sight is enough to have you biting down on your lip, bucky glancing at you over his shoulder with a furrowed brow.

your hand rests delicately on the railing, and gazing up at him, you tilt your head to the side. “i love you.”

bucky’s expression softens. he bounds the rest of the stairs quickly, you following, and once you appear on the landing, he swoops you up in his arms, a kiss to your lips.

how long you stand there at the door to your apartment, you’re not sure. but you’re brought back to reality when he pulls away gently, murmuring, “i love you,” and then, “i’m relieved to be home.” he smirks. “to have finally found a home.”

call this thing what you want-- as much as you feel at home with him, he feels it just as strongly.

《 𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐞𝐧𝐭-𝐓𝐞𝐚𝐜𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐂𝐨𝐧𝐟𝐞𝐫𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐞 》

𝐁𝐮𝐜𝐤𝐲 𝐁𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐞𝐬 𝐱 𝐭𝐞𝐚𝐜𝐡𝐞𝐫!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 𝐀𝐔

Series Summary: James Barnes, a widowed single dad, had forgotten what love felt like and let it crush him, taking his daughter, Rebecca, with him. He was cold, rude, and arrogant, being one of the few teachers at Westview High School the students seemed to absolutely despise. But when you show up, a hopeful math teacher who’d previously taught Rebecca’s kindergarten class, and are adored by your students and colleagues- James’s attitude starts to change.

Series Warnings: enemies to lovers trope, a dash of smut (18+), language, widowed Bucky, Bucky is called James throughout, a common theme of grief, loss, anxiety, anger, slight depression, disability (Bucky’s arm). A few familiar names. THIS IS AN AU AND HAS NO CONNECTION TO THE MCU/MOST THINGS THAT ARE CANON.

A/N: AHHHH HERES MY NEXT SERIES!!!!! I’m so excited for you all to read this one, I’m super proud of it and have been spending just about every morning before my classes working on it. Yes I know that I’m a teacher and this may or may not be inspired by my hopes and dreams but akhdffkasjas like all my work I tried to make this as inclusive as possible. Release dates are below and I’m so excited for this one!!!

✽ Wanna be tagged? Reply to this post or send me an ask and I will add you to the taglist! ✽

Chapter I- Becca’s Biggest Secret (November 6)

Chapter II- Butterflies (November 13)

Chapter III- Unofficial (November 20)

Chapter IV- Coffee Date (November 27- also my birthday lol)

Chapter V- Starting Over (December 4)

Chapter VI- Epilogue (December 11)

Hey there lovely. I have a request for you! Bucky x reader on one of those quiet mornings where you two wake up so comfy you just don't want to move or get out of bed. Maybe one of them tries to and the other holds them back, "No. Stay." Maybe a bit of sweet lovin' 😘 but I'll leave that part up to you.

Sending extra love your way too!

Ahhh thank you so much for requesting @marvel-3407, this is so sweet! 🥰 Getting big cosy autumnal vibes from this! 🍁 One fluffy drabble right up, really hope it brightens your day...

Sunday Morning 🍂

Pairing: Bucky x Fem!Reader

Word count: 500

Warnings: Tooth-rotting fluff, Bucky being needy in a jokey way, implied smut. As always, 18+ only.

It's so nice to wake up naturally, and not to the harsh sound of an alarm.

Outside, you can see the golden and russet leaves gently falling. A crisp autumn day. Ideal for doing very little.

Bucky is still asleep, his chest pressed into your back, arms wrapped around you. The sound of his breathing steady and calming.

Turning slightly in his arms, you gently plant a kiss on his nose, and watch his face scrunch momentarily. He looks so peaceful when he's asleep, so sweet.

After all he's been through, he deserves this rest, this peace. You both do.

His eyes flicker open, confused for a moment as he wakes up, but then he relaxes and smiles when he sees your face.

"Oh god I'm sorry baby, I didn't mean to wake you." You whisper, kissing his forehead. "You just looked so cute."

"It was a lovely wake-up call." He smiles, pulling you in to kiss you on the mouth, before closing his eyes again as he brings you to his chest for another cuddle.

Some might call it mundane, but to you it's perfect, and you soon find a comfortable position nestled in his arms, his chin resting on the top of your head.

You stay like this for a while, drifting in and out of sleep, keeping one another warm, just savouring this time together.

You could stay here all day. Here is safe, here is warm. But a quick glance at the clock tells you that it's almost 11.30. Coffee time is long overdue. That, and you could use a bite to eat.

Reluctantly, you try to gently loosen yourself from the safety and warmth of Bucky's arms, but your boyfriend has other ideas.

"Nooo, stay in bed with meee!" Bucky says in a jokey whine, pulling you back to him and burying his face in your neck. "It's cold out there. You won't get cold if you stay here with me."

It's hard to say no to him when he's like this. The tough supersoldier is really just a big teddy bear.

And you hate to admit it, but the little needy act he likes to put on is very endearing.

"You make a good case." You laugh as he wraps the vibranium arm around your waist, keeping you secure against him. "But I do need my coffee at some point. And some breakfast."

Bucky kisses your neck, whispering against your skin, "Here's the deal, I'll make you coffee and pancakes in a little while. We'll have it in bed."

"In a little while? What are we doing in the meantime?" You tease.

"That's entirely up to you."

"Hmm, I think I have a few ideas..." You reply, hands moving up the back of his t-shirt, touching his warm skin.

He is gentle and sweet as he lowers you onto your back, but when he leans in for another kiss, there's a a fierceness to it.

Yes, coffee and breakfast can wait a little while.

Convalescence

Pairing: Paramedic!Bucky x Reader

Summary: Recovery is a long process; Bucky knows that better than anyone. He just really needs to get you standing before he can get down on one knee.

Word count: 5k

Warnings: Descriptions of injury

a/n: This is a part two to my fic ‘Flashing Lights’! Read part one here!! Sorry for taking ten years to write it, but here it is!! :)

You can follow my library blog @pellucid-library​​​​ for fic update notifications 🤍

Masterlist

Part One

The red lights filtered through your living room window before the sirens sounded off. They were quick—just a heads up that it was your boyfriend banging up the stairs to your apartment. You rushed to grab your things before he got inside, but with your legs still stiff from your surgery all those weeks ago, ‘rushing’ was nearly impossible. 

“Hey, pretty girl, you ready to go?” Bucky called out, his boots heavy against the hardwood.

“Just a sec!” you yelled. “I need to grab my jacket.” 

“The one at the top of the closet? I’ll get it for you, don’t move.” 

“No, no. I got it, Buck. Just let me—uh, hold on, I just need to—” You knocked over a few boxes from the top shelf, sidestepping them to the best of your ability. 

Bucky’s footsteps were then hurried in the hallway. “You okay back there? I’m gonna come help you, just hang on.”

You let out a huff and hobbled back, abandoning your plans to be independent. It’s not like you weren’t used to it; your life had been an endless loop of needing help, and the plastic braces on your legs always exacerbated things. Bucky appeared in the doorway a moment later, his lips turning up in a small smile after his eyes had assessed you for any damage. 

He reached up and grabbed the jacket, giving your chin an affectionate tap as he passed it to you. “There we go. Now you won’t get wet in the rain.” 

“Great,” you grumbled. “Now if I could only get dressed by myself, this would be a perfect day.” 

Bucky tugged you to his chest and pressed his lips to your forehead. “Aw come on, pretty girl, it’s not so bad. You walked all the way back here by yourself. That’s progress!” 

“Oh yeah, definitely. Someone get this on camera! I can walk down the hallway.” 

“Hey, at least the accident didn’t take away from your sense of humor.” 

Your life had also been an endless loop of Bucky’s positivity. The second the doctor cleared you to go home, he was all smiles and encouraging words. You took it as residual worry; just Bucky still dealing with the emotions from the crash. Bucky saw it… differently. In his eyes, the more supportive he was, the less you would want to get back in a car on your own. 

The chest patches on his uniform scratched against your cheeks as you pulled away. “You ready to take me to the hospital now, Dr. Barnes?” 

“Definitely not a doctor, sweetheart.” He brushed his thumb against your cheek before leaning in for a quick kiss. “But yes. I’m sure Wanda’s very excited for your appointment. She’s been goin’ on and on about how well you’re doing. Tells everybody on her floor about ya.” 

Your cheeks burned. “I’m not doing that well. She’s just being nice.” 

Bucky started leading you out of the apartment, a protective hand pressed to the small of your back. You knew he would have preferred to just pick you up and carry you out, but since you started physical therapy, you had been adamant about doing things on your own. And Bucky had been very hesitant to agree. 

“I’ll be the judge of that one.” He lifted you up when you reached the stairs outside. Some things were still too hard. “I’m gonna sit in on your appointment today. Gotta see how you’re doin’. And there’s the business of you getting these off.” His pointer finger tapped at the brace on your calf. 

“You have time for that? I thought you had a full shift today.” 

“Got Stevie to cover for me. Been workin’ too much and I miss my girl.” 

He set you down in front of the ambulance, opening the passenger door and guiding you in. Once he had you settled, he slid in himself and put the van in drive. 

“Buck, you don’t have to pick me up in this thing every time. We could always take a cab,” you said, glancing at the medical equipment in the back of the vehicle. 

“Nah, we couldn’t take a cab. Cabs can’t get through traffic if there’s an emergency.” 

“I hardly think my physical therapy appointment constitutes an emergency.” 

“Guess not, but it’s still bigger than a cab, you know? Safer that way. Those tiny cabs are like death machines.” 

There it was—the massive, ever present elephant in the room. Ever since the accident, Bucky hadn’t allowed you within ten feet of any vehicle smaller than a minivan. You had offered to catch a cab to your appointments plenty of times, but he never agreed. He was always bounding up those apartment steps every week with keys in hand. And if it wasn’t the ambulance, it was Bucky’s massive pickup truck that took up too much space on New York City’s narrow streets. 

“You know, Bucky,” you cautiously replied, “I’m going to have to drive myself places eventually. Maybe even have to take a cab every once in a while. Your supervisor’s going to stop giving you time off eventually.” 

He tucked his hair behind his ear, metal whirring with the movement of his arm. “We’ll deal with that when the time comes, sweetheart. For now, just let me get you to the hospital.” 

You shut up after that; Bucky’s eyes became shifty and his left knee started to bounce to a rhythm you couldn’t place. You had made him nervous. 

You seemed to do that a lot since the accident. 

The first time you realized it was over the phone. It was two weeks after you got home from the hospital, and you called him at work to let him know the power had gone out in your building. He didn’t even let it ring once. 

“You okay? I can be there in fifteen minutes, sweetheart, what's wrong?” He hadn’t even said hello. 

Once Bucky realized you were, in fact, okay, and there was no reason for him to be running down the halls of the hospital with Steve trailing behind him, the conversation ran a bit smoother. He was still uncomfortable with you being home alone with no mobility and no power, but you reassured him you were fine. He sent Sam to the apartment anyway. 

Then there was the incident at the restaurant; the incident that you were convinced was entirely no one’s fault, but Bucky begged to differ. It was your first real outing since Wanda cleared you to walk short distances. Bucky took you to the Chinese place one door down from your apartment. Everything was fine—great even. 

Until you got up to go to the bathroom. 

“I got it, Buck. What, are you gonna go in with me too?” Your tone was light, but you weren’t messing around. You needed to make this small walk by yourself. 

“I know you got it. But I think it’d be better if I just—” 

It was a Friday night. The restaurant was busy. Of course standing in the middle of a walkway would get you flat on your back, a tray of ice water toppling over your chest, and the stocky waiter hovering over you. His eyes were wide as he attempted to help you up, but his body was ripped from yours in an instant. 

Bucky was not a violent man; he comforted old women when they fell down the stairs and held children when they cried outside of house fires. He baked cookies with you when you were sad and bought Alpine special cat food when she was sick. Bucky was a good man. But Bucky saw you half-dead in the middle of the street, and that follows a person. 

“What the hell is your problem, man?” he seethed. The waiter was tossed into the table as Bucky crouched beside you. “Are you blind? The girl as braces on her legs and you go pushing her like fucking ass.” 

“Bucky—” 

“Is it that hard to look? You probably set her back weeks.” 

In all honesty, the fall didn’t exactly feel great; you landed weird on your already tender back and one of your knees bent more than it was ready to. All that, and your shirt was completely soaked through. You were also pretty sure one of the plastic cups had knocked you over the head, but that was the least of your worries. 

You hid any discomfort on your face to save the horrified looking teenager leaning against the table. But Bucky could always tell when something was wrong, and the night was over before it had started. 

“I—I’m so sorry. I didn’t even see her, I swear. I can comp your meals and—and—”

“Just leave,” Bucky grumbled. The waiter didn’t need to be told twice. “You're alright, sweetheart, right? Tell me if this hurts or if you can’t feel it.” 

His hands were steady on either side of your neck, pressing his fingers into points that probably had meaning. When he was satisfied up there, he reached down and started feeling up your spine. Each time you didn’t cry out in pain, he gave himself a satisfied nod. 

“Bucky, I’m really okay. People are staring and my knee kinda hurts—” 

Wrong thing to say. Bucky picked you up before you could finish talking, and had you in Natasha’s office so fast it made your head spin. 

You had been fine—obviously—but that was just one instance in the chain of events that was Bucky’s worrying. 

He was more subtle about it the healthier you got. Instead of body slamming a waiter for running into you, he would create a barrier between you and those that walked by you, his body acting as a wall. When he couldn’t cart you around in a wheelchair anymore, he would snake his arm around your waist and lift you up just enough so that you had no weight pressing into the ground. 

And of course, there were the ‘check ups’. For the first month you were home, Bucky greeted you every morning with a full diagnostic; limb movement, temperature check (he didn’t want you to get an infection), antibiotics, a rollerball on your back, and then you could get out of bed. When you stopped letting him do that, you could feel the way his fingers still assessed your tendons when you sat with him on the couch. And you swore he was kneading the muscles in your back as you slept because there was no way it felt so good right after waking up. 

But Bucky loved you, and you loved him. You knew if things were the other way around, you would be doing just as much. So you let him fret over you and acted like you didn’t notice, all to give him peace of mind. 

Today though. Today was different. 

Wanda said you might get to take the braces off, and unfortunately for Bucky, you weren’t going to let him talk you out of it. 

What you didn’t know was that Bucky wanted you out of those things almost as much as you did. Because he had plans; plans that involved you standing on your own two legs, free from any reminders of the incident, and wholly, completely focused on him. 

With a final turn into the back of the hospital parking lot, Bucky snatched the keys out of the ignition and jogged to the other side to help you. 

“Ah, ah, Mr. Barnes,” you chided, slipping your feet down. “If I’m getting these suckers off, then I need to be able to get out of a car on my own.” 

“Sweetheart, this thing’s huge. Lemme just—”

“Bucky,” you warned. 

He sighed, but backed off with raised hands. You struggled a little as you shimmied down, and Bucky’s lip disappeared between his teeth when your feet connected with the ground, but you did it. A swell of pride consumed your chest at such a simple task; it seemed like things were actually starting to get better. 

“I did it, Buck,” you laughed. “I actually got out of a car by myself.”

His eyes shone, hands stuffed into the pockets of his work pants. “You did, pretty girl. Saw with my own two eyes.”

The smile you threw back at him sent a heat through his chest that he hadn’t felt in a while. A part of you had vanished in the accident; the part that Bucky loved the most. The smiles and the laughs and the witty humor that made him hunch over and wheeze. Little by little, that spark within you started to reignite; the more you healed, the more you came back to him. 

He hoped you would be cleared today, because if you were, then the rest of the night was going to really bring that light out of you. At least he hoped it would. 

“Let’s get those things off of ya.” He swung his arm over your shoulders, guiding you to the physical therapy floor of the hospital. But he still didn’t put the full weight of his arm on you. You hoped that would stop soon; that you would feel normal again. 

~~

“Wait, don’t you think she should hold on until—” 

“Barnes, I will kick you out of this room so fast.” 

“Wanda, I was just saying. Maybe she holds on until after she takes them off.” 

“Oh, I’m sorry,” Wanda scoffed, continuing to unbuckle the braces on your legs. “Did you go to physical therapy school? No, you didn’t. Don’t make me get Natasha.” 

Bucky slid down further in the tiny plastic chair, hand coming up to rub at his forehead. He had been doing really well not saying anything during the appointment, even when you could see the way his knee bounced when you hissed through your teeth, legs still sensitive to the touch. It wasn’t until it was time to take the braces off that he spoke up. 

“Bucky, the worst that’ll happen is that I fall flat on my face. And Wanda won’t let that happen. The ortho said I was good to go on the inside; all the rods are in place. It’s just up to me at this point,” you explained. 

He could tell you were nervous. You always rambled when you were nervous. 

“You don’t have to do this if you aren’t ready.” 

You shot him a look. “I’ve been talking about this for weeks.” 

“Doesn’t mean you have to be ready.” He stood, kneeling in front of your chair as Wanda prepped the room for your walk. “There’s always next week. Or the week after that. Hell, I’d be willing to cart you around on my back until we were old and gray if you wanted.” 

He looked so sincere. Bucky’s hands had come up to rest gently on your newly uncovered thighs, and you tried to imagine being an outsider in this situation; being one of the people Bucky saved off of their bedroom floor or at the playground. His kind eyes bore into yours as he smiled that half smile that won you over and it made you feel safe. 

It would make anyone who looked at him feel safe. 

Bucky was a good paramedic, but more than that, he was a good man; a good man that was yours. And you wanted to be whole for him. 

“I want to do it now,” you whispered. “For us. To get our lives back on track.” 

“I don’t care what track my life’s on, pretty girl. S’long as you're on it.” 

“Alright you big flirt. But I can’t keep those things on forever. I do have a job outside of sitting on our couch you know.” 

He laughed, the curve of his finger bringing your chin down to press his lips to yours. “I’d say that’s not too bad of a job,” he said against your skin. “Wouldn’t mind my wife sitting on the couch everyday when I got home.” 

A surprised sound escaped your throat just as Wanda clapped her hands, disorienting you further. 

Wife? You and Bucky had always talked about getting married, but he hadn’t brought it up a single time since the accident. You were actually getting a little worried that he stopped thinking about it. Springing a word like that at you right before you had to take the test of a lifetime was jarring. 

“Everybody ready?” Wanda smiled. 

Bucky gave your leg a comforting rub, an unknowing smile on his face before you spoke, “Uh, yeah. Ready, Wanda.” 

It was hard. Walking without the braces to support your weakened muscles was beyond hard. And you weren’t even allowed to hold onto anything; for months you had the rails to guide you, and now you were walking with absolutely nothing. Your shoes appeared too big compared to your shrunken ankles, the scars on your legs screamed angrily back at you as you took them in. 

Bucky nodded to you with kind, encouraging eyes, but all you felt was embarrassment. What kind of adult didn’t know how to walk? Who else had to look their boyfriend in the eye and attempt to take their first steps like some toddler? Not to mention the pain. After not being on your feet for such a long period of time, everything ached. Your feet, your ankles, even in your bones. 

You could feel the air in your lungs start to burn. You couldn’t do this, not with everyone’s eyes on you. This was humiliating; it hurt and they were looking at you with so much hope and you could fail. You brought a hand up to clutch at the material of your shirt—to yank it away from your heaving breaths—when metal met your skin. 

“Look at me.” Bucky’s level voice brought you to the surface of a water you didn’t know you were under, but you couldn’t break through yet. “Look at me, sweetheart.”

Dazed eyes snapped up to his, and he continued, “You feel that? You feel the metal?” He pressed the vibranium hand to your cheek. “I did this, just like you. It hurts and it doesn’t feel good. I was so angry at myself—at my body—for not just doin’ what I wanted it to. I wanted it to be like how it used to be right away. That Stark scientist showed up with his fancy briefcase, and I thought I was home free. 

“But—hey, look at me, y/n,” he stressed, bringing your fallen eyes back up. “It was nothin’ like that. Stevie came with me to the appointments to get me used to the prosthetic and I couldn’t even grab a damn apple. Kept rollin’ all over the place and I even crushed a few. Got him right in the eye with apple juice a few times” 

Your eyelashes fluttered, and Bucky took that as a good sign. He started to shift your weight away from him. 

“Was real embarrassed too. I couldn’t even do my job for a full year. Couldn’t look any of the guys in the eye without feelin’ stupid. I had an arm, I should’ve been able to use it, right? But it’s not that easy. It wasn’t for me, and it’s not for you.” When your breathing evened out, he steadied you on your feet. “You with me, pretty girl?” 

Your chest felt normal again—good and even. “Yeah, sorry, I just—it was just—”

“It’s a lot. I get it. Take your time, sweetheart. Like I told you, ‘old and gray’.” 

You glanced over Bucky’s shoulder, receiving a reassuring nod from Wanda. You were on your own feet again, you realized; it was now or never. 

With a deep breath, and Bucky’s words ringing through your head, you took a step. And then another. They were jerky and stiff, but they were steps. Your lashes fluttered again, but this time it was in surprise. 

You just had to make it to the line on the other side of the room. Then you could get braces off and be one step closer to your old life with Bucky; the one that didn’t have him escorting you out of cars and carrying you down the stairs. 

Just a few more steps. You were starting to sweat, but that wasn’t going to deter you. 

“C’mon, sweetheart, almost there.” Bucky's hand was covering his mouth as he spoke, nerves increasing with anticipation. Wanda wasn't reacting as much, and you had to remind yourself that she was a professional and not just your close friend. Bucky’s career always blurred the lines there. 

As soon as the line of tape hit the tip of your shoe, a breathy laugh escaped your chest, filling the room with the most amazing sounds Bucky had ever heard. Because you were laughing with yourself this time, at something you did; something you were proud of.

“God, I knew you could do it. My girl’s amazing, isn’t she, Maximoff?” His arms wound around your waist, lifting you as you continued your broken laughs. “Go on, tell her.”  

Wanda leaned against the wall, shaking her head fondly. “She is pretty amazing. But she’s been putting up with you for years, so I already knew that.” 

The room blurred past your eyes as Bucky spun you, kisses pressed into your neck with each praise he showered you with. And you had only taken about ten steps; you didn’t even want to consider what he’d do when you walked down an entire block. Actually, maybe you did want to consider it. With those shackles off of your legs, there was a lot you wanted to consider. 

Bucky nuzzled his head further into your neck with so much glee that you were beginning to question his intentions. You thought he would’ve been opposed to you being able to walk free; no more braces meant much more freedom—more dangerous opportunities. So why did the smile against your skin rival the sun?

“So—” Wanda trailed off, halting Bucky’s never ending kisses. “You two have plans then? Bet you can pick out a cute outfit now that you don’t have those hunks of plastic on your legs.” 

You craned your neck down at Bucky, still hoisted up in his arms. “I mean I don’t think so. Do we, Buck?”

Bucky raised an unamused brow at Wanda—who, by the way, knew all about Bucky’s master plan—before giving you an adoring smile. “I’ll figure somethin’ out to celebrate, pretty girl. This is a big day for you. You just get dressed when we get home.” 

“Well I mean if you insist.” 

He could get used to this; to the way you left his chest compressed with your smile. Your real smile. The one he fell in love with. 

~~

After holding up about a dozen dresses to your body in front of the mirror, you decided on pants. Pants would hide the ugly scars that ran up your legs—red and cruel and a reminder. At least you didn’t have to wear shorts anymore. 

Plus, Bucky hadn’t told you where you were going. 

“Almost ready, sweetheart?” he called. 

“Yeah, just give me about ten minutes to walk down the hall.” 

Bucky laughed, and it wasn’t one of those uncomfortable, pity laughs he’d been giving you. Who knew hobbling a few steps in the hospital would lift such a weight off of his chest? Again, it was almost strange to you. Of course Bucky wanted you to walk comfortably, but something was different about him; he was more…confident, sure of himself. 

When you finally re-entered the living room, you were surprised to find Bucky still in his uniform. 

“Did you get called in?” you asked, trying to mask the disappointment in your tone.

He quickly raised his hands. “No, sweetheart, I wouldn’t leave ya after such a big day,” he smiled. “I just thought that maybe this would—uh, you know what, can you grab my coat out of the closet for me? Now that you’re a walkin’ woman and all.” 

You laughed. “Did you wait to get ready just so I could walk to the closet all by myself?”

“Yeah, that’s why.” 

He was acting very strange, and you had to repress a second laugh as you started your trek to the closet. When you flung the door open, Bucky’s usual black overcoat wasn’t hung up. And he most likely knew that. You gripped the metal handle a little tighter. 

“Buck, your coat’s not even in here,” you looked at him from over your shoulder. “What’s going on?”

“Oh!” he flung his head back in feigned forgetfulness. “You know what I think it fell off the hanger. D’you see it on the ground?” 

With furrowed brows, you glanced back in the closet. Sure enough, it was lying on the ground in a massive heap. Which was unusual considering there were only two things hung up in this closet at all times. 

“What, is this some type of bending test? Bucky, there are much easier ways to test the dexterity of my knees than playing mind games with me.” 

But you bent anyway—very slowly—and grabbed his jacket, only to uncover a very out of place cardboard box when you did so. You had spent every day of the last few months in this apartment; you knew what was in here and where it was. Bending again, you snatched it in your hand. 

“What’s this?” 

“C’mere, I’ll open it.” 

He flipped a tool out of one of the many pockets of his uniform, and sliced through the tape covering the crease. He was taking his time to slowly open it, shifting certain corners away from you. 

“Bucky,” you whined. “This feels like a riddle or something. What the hell are you doing?” 

“Well I saved a few of these,” he began, pulling something out of the box. “Figured I’d need ‘em for some grand romantic gesture the moment I met you.” 

And he shoved a sticker in your face. The same sticker he used to flirt with you all those years ago at the children’s fair. It was an almost perfect replica of the patch currently on Bucky’s chest, and you’d be lying if you said it didn’t transport you to the first day you met, with his, “I’d break the rules for you any day, sweetheart”  and the ever so charming, “you gotta boyfriend walkin’ around here somewhere?”. 

You cracked a confused smile. “Okay—cute, but why the gesture?”

“Ah, you don’t remember? I think I promised you a whole box of these on our first date, didn’t I?” 

“You did. Which you did bring me. And then we donated them back a few years later. At least I thought we donated them.” 

“Oh, you’re right, sweetheart. Of course.” The looks you were throwing at him were comical as he faked exasperation. “So you think I’m a bad guy for not sending them all back?”

“Bucky—what are you going on about?” 

“Wanna take a look inside and tell me if I should donate the rest?” 

Humoring your half-mad boyfriend, you glanced inside. 

And then with wide eyes, you shot your head back up. “Bucky,” you choked. “That’s not—”

“It is.” His tone was low. “Now I’m gonna get on my knee in front of my girl, and she’s gonna stand while I propose to her.” 

Your waterline glistened as you tracked his figure down, a joyful sob bubbling up in your throat. He looked so unbelievably happy to be doing this; to be on the floor of your living room with Alpine bouncing around his feet, his head now far below yours. 

“You came outta nowhere, I’ll give ya that. I volunteered that day to get out of conditioning with Fury, and I left knowing my future wife.” Tears fell down your cheeks. He grabbed one of your hands in his—in the metal one. “And I can’t tell you how many times I’ve thanked my lazy ass for doin’ that because you? You’re the best thing to ever happen to me. You make me slow down and enjoy the little things, not spend all my days working. You gave me Alpine and this wonderful home and this amazing life. 

“I’d been tryin’ to propose for months. And then you got hurt, and I thought I missed it; that you were gone and you didn’t know how much I love you. So I waited for this to be separate from that, but I can’t wait anymore. 

“I love you, y/n. And I want to spend the rest of my life with you. Marry me?” 

If someone told you that every emotion from the past few months was now crashing down on you, you would have believed them. Joy and pain and love and sadness and so, so much happiness you would never be able to fully explain it. All of it. All at once. And Bucky just kept looking at you as if you hung his world. 

The ring you knew cost way too much was held out in his hand as if you needed that; as if you would ever need anything other than the way he felt against your skin and his soothing words in your ear. He pushed it out a little further when your eyes flickered over the stone, and the ache in your chest grew. 

There was so much that went into this man in front of you; so much good and so much love. 

But you could ask anyone, and they’d tell you the same thing. Because Bucky was a good paramedic, but more than that, he was a good man; a good man that was yours.

“I love you. I love you so much, of course I will.” 

If you enjoy my writing, consider checking out my ko-fi!! <3

Say Something

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Summary: You’re in love with your best friend, with the guy you worked so hard to have a friendship with only to find out he’s been dating someone.

Word count: 1,289

Warnings: Angst, language word, unrequited love, two idiots.

Your whole world revolved around one man and one man only, Bucky Barnes. There was nothing in this world you wouldn’t do for him. If he needed you then you would always drop whatever you were doing and go straight to him, no matter how big or small his problem was.

Natasha called you a ‘people pleaser’, since you found it rather difficult to say no to people and situations. You said yes to people often because you were afraid of letting them down, sometimes even putting yourself in their shoes and imagining the disappointment if the roles were reversed and it was you who needed something.

The one person you always aimed to please was Bucky. Falling in love with the sergeant was obviously never planned, these things rarely are and as cliché as it sounds; it just happened.

At first glance when Bucky first arrived at the compound under Steve’s guidance, Bucky was closed off to everyone besides Steve. The meeting between the two of you didn’t quite go to plan either as phe was dismissive of your attempts at a friendship from the get-go. There were times when he would grunt whenever you would walk into the same room, excluding you from conversations. The screams of horror that ripped through the walls of the compound was what nightmares were made from. The heavy bags under his eyes the morning after made you feel sympathetic towards him and you just wanted to help him in any way that you could. Any way that he would allow you. You never gave up on him, and Bucky must have realised that because one day, his walls crumbled and he confided in you. He told you his deepest, darkest secrets that he didn’t even tell Steve about. You were sworn to secrecy, and the two of you grew closer and closer from that day on.

The closer you grew to Bucky, the more you realised this was more than just friendship to you. This was love.

You never told him about these feelings. You feared the second he heard them, he would shut you out of his life in an instance and you’d back to square one. So you kept them to yourself, allowed yourself to lay awake at night and daydream about the kind of future you would want with him, the kind of future that would never happen. It was like a nightmare on loop, the feelings you felt for him were about to combust and you just had to confide in somebody.

That somebody was Natasha. She was the best one to ask since she had a lot of experience in the dating field.

“I just- I just don’t know, Nat. We’re best friends now and wouldn’t it be weird?” You bit your lip as your fingers played with the tassels on her cream knitted blanket she had splayed over her bed.

Nat was finishing up her makeup before she spun on her heels and turned to you with an eye roll.

Okay, so maybe she wasn’t the best person to confide in after all.

“Why would it be weird? You’re already dating with the amount of time the two of you are spending together.. and why would it be weird? You know all there is about each other. It's a solid foundation.” She takes a breath and straightens out her dress. “I’m really sorry, Y/N but I have a date and I don’t want to be late. Just talk to him, he will listen I’m sure.” She apologises again as she picks up her matching purse and sweater off the chair and makes a hasty dash out the door, leaving you to contemplate your decision alone.

***

The walk down the hall to Bucky’s room felt like it would be the last time you’d walk these trails for some reason. The guilt, the anxiety just sat in the pit of your stomach, churning and making you feel extremely nauseous that you weren’t even sure you could do this.

But you took Nat’s advice, Bucky just had to know how you felt about him. It was his reaction you were more worried about.

You knocked on his door and wiped your sweaty palms on the back of your sweater. Bucky’s feet padding across the carpet resonated through the door, causing your heart rate to soar dangerously high. Bucky swung the door open; clad in black jeans, black socks, damp hair and his dog tags dangling over his chiseled chest. His cologne knocked any greeting out of your head, he smelled so good and it took all of your willpower not to lean in and take a deep sniff.

“Hey doll! Just the person I wanted to see, come on in!” He stands to the side and you walk in, shirts after shirts are scattered all over his bed.

“Bucky, I have to talk to you about something.” You start, but realise he isn’t actually paying attention to you but his shirts on the bed.

He smiles, picking up a shirt and holding it up against himself. “What do you think?” He asks, invisible question marks written all over his face.

“Uh it looks good? What’s the occasion?”

Pink dusts his cheeks as he throws down the shirt and picks up another, and another.

“I have a date with Jenny.” His smile reaches his eyes while your heart breaks. “It’s our third date so things are going well.”

Wait, what?

“Your- your third date?” You chuckle nervously, desperately hiding the crack in your voice. “How did I miss this?”

Bucky shrugs slightly and decides to go with the maroon shirt.

“We’ve just kept it a secret until now. You’re the first person I’ve told actually and could really use your help with flirting since I’m not good in that department.”

Oh wow. An invisible force just punched you in the gut and the air is tight.

“I’m- I’m not exactly the best person to ask.” You bite your lip, blinking quickly so no tears dare shed. “Maybe ask Nat.” You say quickly, heading towards the door. This is a lot to process and you’re not sure what to do with yourself.

You bid Bucky good luck and good night. He really didn’t seem to take notice of your state of distress and if he did, he didn’t say anything. You head back to your room and lock the door, collapsing on your bed and allowing your pillow to capture your fallen tears.

***

Bucky sighed and sat on the edge of his bed. The maroon shirt hung loosely in his hand as he rested his elbows on his thighs. What the fuck was he doing? He was in love with you, he has been since he met you. It was his mind they made him believe you were too good for him, he didn’t deserve you since he was sure he would break your heart over and over again.

But your body language crumbled right under his eyes. He saw how you were trying so hard not to cry and all he wanted to do was hold you and told you not to cry. He had no idea what you thought about him, what you really thought about him and thought the only way he could get over you was to date somebody else completely opposite. He wasn’t lying when he said things were going well. He was worried things were going too well and now he’s scared shitless he’s lost the most important person in his life.

There was nobody else like you.

And Bucky wanted you.

business as usual ⤿ masterlist | ONGOING

MOB!BUCKY x READER

STORY WARNINGS: mature language, mafia, angst, nonconsensual touches, violence, rough past, drug and alcohol mentions and use, smoking, smut, ( will be updated as story progresses )

“I don’t do love, I never understood it. But there is something about you, you changed everything for me. And darlin’ I don’t know if its a good or a bad thing.”

CHAPTERS

chapter one

chapter two

chapter three

LINKS

wattpad story

pinterest board

spotify playlist

Unrequited

Description: Unrequited love ❤

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Warning: Angst

Word Count: 1,143

There’s nothing more disheartening than the love of your life and realizing that they’re just not ready to be with you in a way that you deserve.

Y/n was so invested in Bucky, and it was mentally draining. She took the time out of her day to make sure he was okay or to talk. Usually, he was busy with work or hanging out with some of his work buddies. He’d always promise to call her back, but he never did; it always slipped his mind.

Of course, y/n would make excuses for him when he would forget to call or even when he stood her up.

“Bucky would be perfect if only he’d remember to show up…” she’d sigh to her friends, Natasha and Wanda.

Natasha would roll her eyes, “If he needs to change y/n, that should be a red flag.”

Wanda would agree to add, “Bucky’s a great guy and all, but he’s been through a lot. He’s trying to figure out who he is, and he’s not looking for a relationship; he’s told you this.”

Of course, she ignored the things her friends tried to explain to her. She didn’t want to give up on the thought of a relationship with the man that made her feel so special. Maybe it was the hopeless romantic that she was or just that she was a little bit naïve.

Bucky was so obvious to y/n’s feelings for him. He just thought she was just nice, that she was just a great friend. He never thought in a million years that the girl could be hopelessly in love with him. Well, that is until Sam pointed it out to him one night after y/n was making them dinner in Bucky’s kitchen.

“So, has she told you yet?” Sam questioned Bucky.

Bucky looked over at Sam, confused, “Told me what?”

Sam chuckles, shaking his head at Bucky, “I don’t know, man, isn’t it obvious?”

“Is what obvious, Sam? Stop beating around the bush; spit it out, man.”

“Pretty girl in there,” Sam says point towards the kitchen, “the one you are taking for granted is totally in love with you.”

Bucky lets out a deep, hearty laugh but quickly stops once he realizes that Sam was indeed not joking.

“Uh, there’s no way y/n is in love with me.”

Sam rolls his eyes, “Whatever you say, dude, even Steve can see it. I mean, pay more attention to how she treats you versus how she treats Steve or me.”

Bucky nods, pondering on the idea of her loving him. She had been a light in the dark for him, something he didn’t want to lose. Bucky didn’t want a relationship, and he wasn’t ready for that kind of commitment after he had gone through it. He just wanted to learn who he was first before he let himself dive into a relationship. Not only that, he needed to heal as well; his past life, the Winter Soldier, still hunts him.

Y/n was a great woman, and she was beautiful. Any guy would be lucky to have her. Shit, Bucky would but lucky to call her his, but he’d be damned if he’d given her any false hope.

He took Sam’s advice and paid more attention to how y/n treated him, oh and did he see a difference. Y/n would bend over backward to make sure Bucky was okay. If he’d call in the middle of the night, she’d be there. She was there no matter what. It scared Bucky a bit because he didn’t even try, and she still loved him.

Bucky thought the best idea was to confront y/n.

Y/n’s apartment was so much homier than Bucky’s, and he liked that. It gave him a sense of relief for a moment. He plays with y/n’s tiny hairless kitten; he loves cats, even this weird bald little guy Alford.

“Alford loves you, Bucky.” y/n walks into the small living room wearing a cute baby blue sundress.

Bucky loved when she wore sundresses, and it just made her look so innocent and beautiful.

He smiles, placing the kitten down, chuckling, “Yeah, too bad it looks like a ball sack.”

She laughs, shaking her head, “Hey, don’t disrespect my little bald baby! But what did you want to talk about?”

Bucky quickly stops laughing, looking over towards the window at the now setting sun. He couldn’t look y/n in the eyes; he was afraid he’d chicken out. He needed to know if it was true if she loved him more than a friend.

He takes a deep break, “Y/n you know I love you, right?”

“Yeah, I love you too?” confused she sits beside him.

Bucky turns to look at y/n, “Be honest with me y/n do you love me a little more than a friend should?”

“I— yeah, I honestly do.” She sighs, playing with the hem of her sundress.

“Oh um, well, I don’t know what I was expecting you to say.” He chuckles.

Y/n looks up at Bucky, grabbing his hands, “I know you’re not ready right now, Buck, but I’m willing to wait for you. I’ve been waiting for a while now… I don’t know when I fell for you, but one day it just happened.”

He takes a long sigh, “Look; I don’t want you to wait for me y/n. I want you to go out there and live your life okay. I want you to date, to find someone who you don’t have to wait for. I love you, but I don’t know if it will ever be in the way you want me to.”

y/n shakes her hand, dropping Bucky’s hand. She wipes her cheeks, cleaning the tears that escaped her eyes, “You know Wanda and Nat tried to warn me that this would be the outcome. Of course, I was naïve and didn’t listen. You know why?”

She didn’t wait for Bucky to answer before continuing, “Because I thought one day you might realize that I was everything you needed. Shit, I feel so stupid; I mean, I’ve wasted so many sleepless nights worrying about you. Making sure you were okay and taking care of you. How could you have not known that I had feelings for you?”

“Please don’t cry! Okay, look, I didn’t realize it because I didn’t want to lose you. You bring light to my life. You keep the darkness at bay y/n. I can’t lose you. But I also can’t force myself to have feelings for you.”

“I’m sorry, it’s not your fault. It just hurts; I had my hopes up. I had this fantasy of a happy ever after with you.” y/n let out a sob.

Bucky pulls her into his arms, embracing her, “I’m sorry too.”

Unrequited love, a painful one-sided love. Simply put, it’s hell.

Kinktober Day 11: Authority Kink

SUMMARY// "You're the closest thing I'll get, darlin'."

WARNINGS// smut, unprotected sex, sir kink, cursing

AU// Bodyguard!ws x mafia!f!reader / Bodyguard!Bucky x mafia!f!reader

KINKTOBER MASTERLIST

18+ ONLY, MINORS DNI

Moodboard by// @samhainduchess

"There are many other things I'd rather be doing than these meetings." You grumbled, standing from your chair to lean back against your desk. Watching as Bucky unclipped his mask to take a deep breath.

His eyes stayed trained on the way your heeled foot lifted to turn the chair towards him. "I've got thirty minutes before another one. Can you make it quick?"

A smirk curled the corner of his lips as he moved to sit in the plush leather chair. 'I hate that thing.' He muttered in Russian, leaning his head back.

"One day-" taking the mask in your hands, you looked at him with a gentle smile. "You won't have to wear it, anymore."

His denim blues danced back and forth as he looked at your features before down at the mask. "That's a lost hope." Bucky sighed, reaching his right hand out to graze his knuckles against the exposed skin of your thigh. "You're the closest thing I'll get, darlin'."

Goosebumps prickled your skin in the wake of his gentle touch. Fingers hooking under the hem of your skirt to tug you closer. "C'mere." He mumbled, holding his hands out to grip your waist. Pulling you to straddle his thick thighs.

"Yes, sir." You said in a giggle, carding your fingers through his chin length hair.

Bucky felt sparks in his veins when he heard that one word fall from your lips, gripping the swell of your ass as he groaned lightly. "Say that again."

Sucking your bottom lip between your teeth, you leaned down to brush your lips to his scruffy jaw. "Fuck me, sir." You teased, grinding your hips down against him.

Standing, Bucky hauled you up to his waist. Your back meeting the expensive wood of your desk as his hands shoved your skirt up in a haste. Making quick work to undo his belt and shove his pants and briefs to his mid thigh.

Your head tipped back in a strained moan when he filled you in one swift thrust. Walls stretched to their limit as he pounded into you relentlessly. A cord in him being snapped from one word.

Bucky kept his hands flat against the desktop on either side of your waist, low groans and moans pouring from his lips with each slide against your velvety walls.

You whined when his warm right hand went around your throat loosely, his forefinger lifting to tap your chin. "Look at me, sweets." He grunted, a mix of a sigh and groan leaving his throat when your eyes peaked open to meet his.

He basked in the way you looked at him as he took you apart- like there was something in him you saw worth while where no one else did. Something only he got to experience to see every day for the past month since the night in the alley.

"Best cunt I've ever been in, darlin'. Can feel you squeezin' me already." Bucky moaned out, your hands searching out to hold his biceps as you keened.

"Bucky-" you cried out, back arching off of the desk as every nerve frayed at the ends. Warmth sprouting under your skin as his bulbous head knocked into the sweet spot in your cunt just right.

Bucky's thumb brushed over your lips, fucking you through the afterglow as you moaned softly. Your lips parting for him to press the pad of his thumb against your tongue.

"Fuck-" he groaned, hips stuttering when your lips closed around the digit. Half-lidded eyes never leaving his as he spilled into you with a guttural moan.

Riding through the aftershocks with shallow thrusts, Bucky hummed when your fingers laced in his hair. Leaning up to catch his lips in yours. Barely pulling away to mumbled against his lips.

"You're so amazing, Soldat."

Rhythm in the Rain

Pairing: Bucky x reader

Word Count: 1,218

Summary: You and Bucky spend an evening in bed during a thunderstorm. 

Author’s Note: I have a couple of asks that really set the mood for this story and it works for today’s Kinktober for Eyre’s one prompt per day list @buckyownsmylife and day 21: unprotected sex. It’s pretty soft and I want it. LOL Thank you all so very much for reading and for continuing to be so lovely and supportive. Much love always! ❤❤❤ Divider by the lovely @imerdwarf

Warnings: Soft fluff, fluffer smut, fingering, oral (f rec), smut (18 + ONLY PLEASE!!!)

Gif NOT MINE: Credit goes to @august-walker ( @captain-james) Thanks so much lovely! 🥰

Kinktober Masterlist 2021

The sun begins to fade below the horizon and the deep hues of pink and orange are muted against the dark clouds that threaten to roll in. A chilly wind blows through the thin curtains and they billow out into your bedroom. You shiver and wrap your arms around yourself, snuggling into Bucky’s Henley and sighing happily when his distinct smell invades your nose.

“I’m gonna have to wash that someday doll face,” he teases lightly.

“Nope! Never. It smells so good. Just like you.”

He crawls across the sheets and grabs your waist, tugging until you fall to the bed and into his arms.

“I love when you wear it,” he murmurs, lifting the fabric to expose the skin of your stomach.

You giggle when the stubble lining his cheeks tickles your skin and you reach down to give his hair a yank.

“Bucky!” you squeal.

His squeezes his head under the Henley and inches higher, his lips grazing over your breasts before he gets stuck.

“OH MY GOD!” you playfully chide. “Your big head doesn’t fit under there!”

“One of the best places to be stuck though,” he simpers, peppering you with kisses.

“Your scruff is tickling me,” you shriek as you wiggle on the bed.

He reluctantly pulls his head out of the shirt and rests his chin on your chest.

“Better just take it off then,” he whispers, sliding the material higher and lifting it over your head.

He covers your body with his, his warm skin like a blanket against the chill. A distant rumble of thunder follows the first flash of lightning that brightens the sky and you can already hear the pitter patter of raindrops hitting the roof.

Bucky’s lips hover just above yours in a feather light touch and he focuses on you, his eyes wandering over the features of your face. All his unspoken words are swimming in the ocean blue color and your fingertips reach up to trace his jaw before you press your lips to his.

His hand slides from your waist up to your neck and his thumb brushes across your cheek, every movement deliberate as he deepens the kiss. The rain becomes heavy, the drops drumming against the house and the leaves of the trees swaying wildly in the wind.

The lights flicker twice before going out with a small pop and you smile against his lips. His nose brushes yours and he trails kisses across your jaw, ghosting his fingers down your neck while his mouth follows the same path.

Lightning brightens up the dark room and a loud crack of thunder echoes off the walls but you’re too lost in the feel of Bucky to notice. His metal fingers close around yours and he slides your joined hands above your head while his flesh hand glides down between the valley of your breasts and slips under the lace at your hips.

You purr out his name when his fingers tease you, the soft touch making your hips arch off the bed in a quiet plea for more. Your legs fall open and his metal hand squeezes yours as he keeps it pinned over your head. He slowly sinks a thick finger inside you, swallowing your moans of pleasure with a kiss. Your free hand grabs his bicep, the feel of his flexing muscles making you clench around his finger.

He pushes a second finger into you while his thumb circles your clit and your grip on his arm tightens with a rock of your hips. He breaks the kiss to look into your eyes, his dark lashes fluttering against his cheeks when he feels your walls squeeze his fingers again.

“That’s it baby doll. Let go for me,” he whispers.

You find your release within seconds and his name falls from your parted lips like a prayer. He withdraws his fingers and slides down your body, dragging your underwear off and settling between your spread legs.

Your eyes meet just before his tongue slides through you and he moans, closing his lips around your clit. You push off the headboard with one hand and use the other to tug on his hair and pull him closer. You grind down on his face and feel your second orgasm building quickly.

You gasp out his name just before the wave of pleasure washes over you and he continues to lick you, even as you whimper and your arms fall to the bed.

“I can’t get enough baby doll,” he murmurs, kissing along your inner thighs before he moves back up your body.

You’re completely pliant beneath him and you feel his hardness against your lower stomach when he settles his weight on top of you.

His fingers dance along your cheek before he kisses you softly. He nudges your legs open with his thigh and the friction against your sensitive flesh makes you gasp into his mouth. His tongues parts your lips and he applies more pressure between your legs.

“See how good you taste,” he whispers against your lips.

The rain continues to pound along the roof and lightning illuminates the gray sky. Thunder booms after every flash but all you can hear is Bucky’s whispered words and his steady breathing.

He gathers your wrists in his metal hand and gently places your arms above your head once again. He shifts and slowly pushes into you, the feel of him like warm silk. He doesn’t take his eyes from yours, sighing softly when every inch of him is inside you.

He doesn’t move at first, his lips pressed to your neck as he places kisses all along your soft skin. Only when his mouth covers yours does he rock his hips, letting his free hand rest on your thigh and spread your legs wider.

With another pump of his hips, he goes deeper, opening you up until he fills you completely. Your warm breath mingles when he lifts his gaze, keeping his lips so close to yours they brush every time he rocks into you.

“You feel so incredible baby girl,” he hums. “So perfect.”

All of his movements are languid as he explores your skin with his lips and when he releases your wrists you drag your nails down his back, desperate to touch him. You wrap your legs around his waist and his face falls to the crook of your neck.

You breathe out his name and pull him closer, needing him deeper and he lifts his head to hold your stare as you fall over the edge. Seeing you fall apart is all he needs to find his own release and you feel his warmth spread through you.

Neither of you move as your breathing settles and his hand cradles your cheek. He traces the outline of your features with his thumb, smiling softly when the lights blink back to life for a second before going out again.

The rain has stopped and the scent of damp earth drifts in through the open window and when the cloud’s part, the bright light of the moon sneaks in, casting a delicate glow across the floor.

“I love the smell after a thunderstorm,” you murmur, kissing his thumb as it passes over your lips.

“I love you,” he answers with a soft kiss.

@book-dragon-13 @dreamlessinparis​ @hiddles-rose​ @jewels2876​ @loricameback​ @lookiamtrying​ @musicalmuffindog1410​ @moongreydreams​ @nano--raptor​ @marvelgirl7​ @randomfandompenguin​ @suchababie​ @maladaptivexxdaydreaming​ @saiyanprincessswanie​

NSFW Below

You enter the grounds and go to find a seat. Hearing someone yell your name you look around to find Bucky standing at the edge of the pitch waving at you to come to him. You can feel everyone's eyes on you as you make your way over to him. He plants a kiss on your cheek as he places his jacket over your shoulders.

It's the final game of the season and you and the girls are going to watch the game. Nobody knows about your relationship with Bucky Barnes, the team captain. Not because you or him didn't want people to know just because it never came up.

"I want everyone to know who my girl is when we win this game" he smiles at you and the rest of the team, who have gone silent, look on in shock.

"So you finally bagged yourself a girl, eh Bucko?" Sam slags him.

"Shut up Sam, and yes, this is Y/N. Y/N this is the team. They're all a bunch of dumbasses. But I suppose I love them. Anyway I gotta go get ready. Meet me in the locker room after the game." He kisses you on the cheek again and leaves.

You turn to go back to your seat and the girls are giving you a knowing look. "I'll explain later" is all you say and they both nod.

-

The game is over, they won 5-3 and the celebrations on the pitch have begun. You spotted Bucky quickly sneaking away from the crowd and you follow him to the locker room.

"Hey Bucky what'd yo-" You're cut off by Bucky grabbing you and pushing you against the lockers. His hands roaming every inch of your body as his lips crash into yours.

"Been looking forward to this all day babe, need to feel you." he starts to tug at your clothes pulling your jacket off before tearing your dress over your head.

His right hand finds its way into your panties while his left one comes up to your throat to grip lightly. He places two of his fingers over your clit rubbing small circles at first. Your knees almost collapse at the contact.

"Mmm that feels so good Bucky" You say as you place small open mouthed kisses on the side of his neck.

He pushes two finger inside you as his thumb continues to work on your clit. You let out a moan.

"Shhh baby girl, I'm going to need you to stay quiet for me. Can you do that?" you just nod. Your eyes hooded with pleasure.

HIs fingers start to move faster and you can feel the coil in your stomach tighten as he brings you closer to your climax. Your body shaking with the pleasure as the coil springs lose and you cum around Bucky's fingers and into your panties.

He brings his two fingers up and places them in his mouth sucking your juices off. "Mmm you taste so good baby, I could never get enough". He then grabs you and bends you over one of the benches.

"Look at that pretty little pussy that I'm about to ruin." he says as he lines himself up with you pushing the tip in.

He sinks in further and you both sigh in pleasure. Bucky starts to move as you grip onto the edges of the bench.

His thrusts get faster and harder and you're struggling not to make any sounds. You bite your lip hard to keep them from escaping. The only sounds filling the room are Bucky's short pants and the obscene squelching sounds coming from your pussy.

Bucky's thrust start to get sloppy and you feel him twitch inside you as he fills you. He bends down placing a few kisses on your lower back.

"Congratulations to me"

You're Always What I Need

Pairing: Beefy!Bucky x Shorter!Reader

Word Count: ~1,770

Summary: There’s nothing quite like a new place to call home. After the kitchen is organized just the way you like it, you begin to notice small changes within the following days. And it just might be because a certain somebody happens to like when you ask him to get things that are out of your reach. But because he’s very sweet and very handsome, you let it slide.

A/N: This piece is based off two prompts requested by a lovely Anon. I really enjoyed writing it so I hope everyone finds it to be an enjoyable read. Feel free to let me know what you think!

The white curtains danced in the breeze entering through the open windows. They were the first thing Bucky noticed as he padded into the living room. The hardwood was cool beneath his bare feet, and a yawn escaped him as he paused to stretch his arms above his head. You walked out of the pantry in time to see the hem of his shirt rise to expose a sliver of his stomach. Upon closing the door behind yourself, his gaze diverted to you. A smile grew on his face, small and easy as they often were.

Different baking ingredients were spread across the kitchen island countertop, and he eyed them as he made his way to you, wrapping his strong arms around your waist. It forced you to still with a new bag of flour in your grasp, but you welcomed the warmth of his body behind you. You always did. Outside, the sun was well into the sky and, like you, the neighborhood had been wide awake for some time. Parents had already bid their children goodbye as they climbed onto school buses, and people were out walking their dogs. Bucky, however, had slept in because he’d flown back from a ceremony in D.C. the previous night.

“Feeling better?” From the corner of your eye, you saw him give a small nod. “At least you have the next few weeks off. There’s gonna be plenty of time to relax and just take it easy.” He hummed and gave you a gentle squeeze.

“I was about to start making some muffins, but I can make you breakfast first, if you want,” you offered. “I wasn’t sure how much longer you were gonna sleep in so I held off on it.”

“It’s fine. I can whip up something for myself.” He kissed the crook of your neck. “Don’t wanna interrupt your flow.”

You turned to look at him as best you could. “Are you sure? I don’t mind. I’d be happy to, actually.” The kitchen had become one of your favorite rooms in the new house. It was spacious and all yours. No more small countertops and limited storage.

“Alright,” he finally said. “Thank you.”

Bucky made sure to thank you a hundred times more after he finished eating the meal you prepared. It hadn’t been anything extravagant, just the typical scrambled eggs, bacon, and toast, but after going the previous week without a home-cooked meal from you, it was divine. He lingered by your side as you proceeded to place the wet and dry baking ingredients within their respective bowls. You had him do the mixing as you took out the muffin pans. And upon searching for the package of paper baking liners, you found that they were stored higher in the cabinet than you remembered. Standing on your toes did little to assist you in reaching them.

A sigh slipped past your lips. “Hey, Buck? Can you reach that for me?” You pointed a helpless finger. Even after asking, you attempted to reach it once more, groaning.

“Easy, doll. Let me help you.” He placed one hand on the small of your back as he reached over you with the other to retrieve the colorful liners. You almost melted.

“Thanks.”

“Any time, shortcake.”

The nickname made you roll your eyes, but getting to hear him chuckle was worth it.

When he’d finished stirring everything, you told him that you had the rest under control. So he went to stand at the sliding door to look out at the patio.

“I think I’m gonna go sit outside for a bit,” he said.

“‘Kay.”

After putting the muffins in the oven, you went to join him. From his spot on the wicker couch, he turned around upon hearing the door open, and his eyes followed you as you rounded to stand before him. The patio was made of smooth, gray stone and the furniture set was one you’d picked out together. Going from having a fifty-square-feet balcony to a backyard fit with plush grass was a dream.

“Is this seat taken?” You pointed to his lap. Rather than waiting for a response, you smiled at the light flush of his cheeks, and took a careful seat onto his right thigh, letting your legs fall between his.

Bucky wrapped his arm around your waist and pressed a kiss to your chin. “Guess it is now.”

A silence settled between the two of you, and the sounds of rustling trees and sparrow melodies prevailed. The woods began where your backyard ended, filled with tall and slender trees. It wasn’t uncommon to see wildlife, whether it be squirrels scampering about during the day or even deer early in the morning when the sky still bore shades of pink and lilac.

A huff of laughter left Bucky’s nose.

It made your lips curl upwards. “What?”

“Just thought about something from when I was a kid.”

It didn’t look like he planned on continuing so you ran a hand through his long hair. “Well, you have to share now. Can’t just leave me hanging.”

He smiled, and bounced his leg just to make you squeak. “My dad used to sit outside and drink coffee in the mornings sometimes. And the first time Becca and I joined him, he insisted that we stayed quiet for five minutes straight to just listen to the world. But we were young so we thought it was the most boring thing ever.” He paused for a few beats. “But I get it now. It’s nice.”

So that’s what the two of you did, listen to the world. You ended up getting off his lap to sit beside him, letting your head fall to rest on his shoulder. It felt good to have him by your side in that way. You wished the moment would never end.

That evening, the water of the sink ran softly as he washed the dishes. The sight of him standing there, slightly hunched, brought a pleasant warmth to your chest. Under his breath, he was singing a song. You weren’t able to decipher the lyrics until you got closer. As you passed behind him to stand in front of the other section of the sink, you delivered a gentle smack to his backside. He nudged your arm as a halfhearted retaliation. For the next few minutes, he cleaned and you dried. Afterwards, both of you began putting everything back in its place.

The ringtone of your phone eventually pierced the air, and you stepped out of the room to answer the call. The young woman on the other end of the line was one of your neighbors calling to confirm that the two of you were set for a café date the following morning. When you made it back to the kitchen, Bucky’s broad back was facing you as he placed a bowl you primarily used on the incorrect shelf because he knew it’d be just out of your reach.

Instead of making your presence known, you retreated to your bedroom given the fact that he’d be able to handle the remainder of the chore. There would come a day when you’d enforce the way you’d organized the kitchen. But for the moment, you welcomed the sense of endearment that refused to go away.

“You.” You pointed a finger at him as he later entered the room. And went on to poke it into his chest when he curiously came to stand in front of you.

“Me.” Bucky took your hand and peppered kisses over your knuckles. “What about me?”

You almost wanted to tell him that he wasn’t slick. Almost.

It looked as if he wanted to say something else, but he only smiled as you continued to hold his gaze. Little stars might as well have been contained in his eyes with the way they sparkled. They flitted down to study your lips, and he was leaning in to kiss you a moment later. The entirety of your body came alive as he cupped your face in the most tender way. A gentle hum rose up his throat and, though it was impossible, you swore you felt it travel through you.

It wasn’t long before he sought to intensify the kiss. But even against your own desire, you continued to move your lips slowly, gently, against his—simply to see what he’d do. Like a mirror, he matched your pace again. You pulled away just enough to get a glimpse of his face. His eyes fluttered open and his lips remained parted as quiet breaths passed them.

“What?” He murmured, beginning to smile. “Why are you smiling?”

You shook your head. “You’re just something else.” You hadn’t forgotten what he’d done.

Your lips met his again, and that time you followed his lead as he began to kiss you with more passion. The two of you ended up on the bed, you on top of him as his hands gripped your waist. And soon, he gave your hips a gentle push as a signal for you to stop kissing him for a moment. You pulled away, but not before pressing stray kisses to the tip of his nose and the dimple of his chin.

His voice was low and curious when he spoke. “What do you mean I’m something else?”

You pecked his lips. “You just are,” you said. “But in the best way.”

Before he could say anything else, you ducked your head down and started placing soft little kisses to his neck.

“Shortcake...”

You sat back up and placed your palms on his firm chest. As you looked down at him, you saw him for who he was; undeniably sneaky when he wanted to be, but also warm, and kind, and every ounce of good capable of being sealed within one person. Your next words came easy.

“I’m lucky to have you in my life.”

Bucky realized your voice sounded sweeter and more sincere than before. Part of him was still dizzy from your affection but he managed to give you a look that conveyed the fact that he felt likewise about you. You memorized the light in his eyes and the small upturn of his lips in that moment. And you stored it in a place in your heart where it’d never fade away. Of all the whims and pursuits capable of arising in life, at the end of the day, it would always be him; he’d always be the one you sought and returned to time after time again. He’d always be exactly what you needed.

-

♡ Thank you so much for reading!

♡ More fluffy Bucky fics here

♡ To join my "taglist," turn on notifications for @taleseverlasting

Title: here’s lookin’ at you, kid

part 1|| part 2 || part 3

Pairing: Chef!Bucky x Aspiring Chef!Reader

Rating: Explicit

Summary: Kitchens are loud and hot, but you’ve never minded that. Never minded the burnt fingers, and cut hands. What you do mind is Chef Barnes, the cocky talent that put Black Adder Brewery on the map. You’re even less used to hating someone quite this much, but you’re sure, somehow, you’ll manage—if you don’t stab him first.

Warnings: kitchen typical misogyny, Bucky being way too full of himself, light hazing, enemies to lovers, fluff, a little angst, light love triangle, hate-sex, kitchen typical drama

A/N: inspired by this headcanon i wrote!! hello my dears!! Part 4 is finally here, and i’m so sorry for the wait. thank you all for being patient, and for loving this fic so much. i really hope you enjoy, there’s some juicy drama in this one. i didn’t think we would be doing a love triangle but—here the hell we go. please enjoy, and as always, please let me know what you think in the comments and reblogs!! 😘 divider by @whimsicalrogers​

This is a work of FICTION, and there will be ADULT themes and content included therein, so I assume once you’ve clicked through the link that you are comfortable with that. I do not give consent for my work to be copied, translated, or posted elsewhere, even if I am credited. This work is entirely mine, and unbeta’d, so read at your own risk! MINORS, DNI!

🔪The one where you get asked out.🔪

Kara is waiting for you when you get home. She’d received your excited text about your cake—and subsequently your promise of free food from the kitchen—and was sitting at the kitchen table when you finally made your way in. 

 “Jesus, you said you’d be home almost an hour ago.” She whined. “What happened?”

 What the fuck do I even say?

 You were still in shock—you couldn’t believe you’d let King-fucking-Asshole put his mitts all over you. And what was worse, you’d enjoyed it. You liked to think your taste in men was at least better than him, but even now when you thought about his rough hands and the growl of his voice in your ear, your knees went a little weak. God-damn you, you thought frustratedly at your pussy, wishing like hell you’d said no, and knowing all the same that if you did go back, you’d probably say yes again. 

 Yes Chef.

 “I, um, I got held up. Asshole made me clean out the walk-in.” You settle for a half-truth instead. “Prick.” you brandish the braised beef you’d managed to pilfer—it didn’t go “out of date” for two days technically, but you know King Asshole is only going to toss it tomorrow, demanding fresher fare. You’d also managed to convince Bruce to save you just enough risotto to fill a pint container, a difficult feat. 

 “Damn.” She wrinkles her nose, frowning. “He’s such a dick to you.” You have no idea, you think sourly as you place your bounty on the table, watching with a satisfied smile as Kara digs in. “Christ, this is good.” You laugh, and you know she doesn’t notice the bitterness in it. You’re angry at yourself for giving in, angry that you let your shitty. boss taint your victory. 

 “Yeah, the food’s bomb.” 

 You decide not to tell Kara. It’s not because you think she wouldn’t understand—on the contrary, the two of you have spent many a night lamenting your various relationship choices. But for some reason, you can’t bring yourself to tell her. Maybe it’s because you feel stupid, or maybe because you’re embarrassed that after years of telling Kara her taste in men was absolute garbage and riding her choices, you made exactly the same mistake—only with your boss. Either way, you sit down at the table with a sigh, grabbing a fork of your own to pick miserably at the leftovers. 

 “Something happen?” She asks, quirking her perfectly manicured eyebrow at you. “You seem… I dunno. More bitter than usual.” You scowl at your friend. 

 “Gee, thanks.” You roll your eyes, eating another bite of room temperature risotto before sighing. “I’m just tired. I’m going to head to bed.” And consider whether or not I should be tendering my resignation. You leave her at the kitchen table with the leftovers, waving your hand carelessly when she asked if you cared if she finished them. 

 You don’t—and suddenly, your room is sounding more appealing than ever. You flee from your friend, shutting your door before you sigh tiredly. One hot shower later found you in your bed, staring anxiously up at your ceiling. What would tomorrow at work be like? You weren’t stupid enough to think that one heated, hateful fuck would change anything about your relationship with Bucky—if anything, it felt like you’d taken a giant step backward. 

 “Fuck.”

 🔪

 It’s quiet when you get to Adder, a testament to last night’s raucous behavior. Most of the waitstaff aren’t there yet either, it’s still early for them. You close the door quietly behind yourself, making sure it’s locked before you look around the empty restaurant.

 “Hey.” 

 Oh shit. Mostly empty. 

 Sam pops up from behind the bar, and you feel your stomach do a nervous little flip. It’s the first time you’ve actually been alone with him since you kissed him, and you’re acutely aware of it. Your skin prickles with new nervousness, but you force what you hope is a casual smile. 

 “Hey! I, um, wasn’t expecting anyone,” you admit, waving. “Early start?” he nods, gesturing at the mostly empty liquor shelves behind him. 

 “Nat’s awful at restock.” He laughs. “Well, that, and I was kind of hoping to run into you, I noticed you tend to come in kind of early.” Oh shit. Oh fuck. Well, it wasn’t like you hadn’t had a good run—it was time to face the music now, as much as you really, really didn’t want to. Still, you tried to keep a stiff upper lip, and nodded, pulling out a seat at the bar. 

 “Guess I should have seen this coming.” Your laugh sounds nervous, even to you. “After last week and all.” he rubs the back of his neck and flashes you a winning grin. 

 “I mean, and the cake.” That makes you laugh, and Sam’s smile turns a little dopey. “Damn, that cake.” He shakes his head. 

 “If this is a catering request, I don’t come cheap.” 

 “Oh, I wouldn’t doubt it. This is more of a date request.” Those warm, honeyed eyes find yours. “If you’re not seeing anyone.” 

 Bucky’s face pops into your head, and you shake it, both to clear it, and in answer to his question. King Asshole certainly doesn’t own you, and you doubt he’d be interested in laying a claim anyway.

 “I’m not seeing anyone.” you answer quickly, swallowing. Sam is sweet, and he’s been nice to you from the start. He’s handsome, and the sight of his muscles pressed up against the standard black-polo is also not offensive to look at. The traitorous part of you, the part that joyrode in your frontal lobe and let chef fuck you within an inch of your life, however, mutters darkly at the thought of his request. He’s not Bucky.  

 That’s a good thing, you think back pointedly, ending your internal argument with a big smile. “I, um. I think that would be nice. Where did you have in mind?” 

 “Let’s say… Meiji? You like sushi, right? I mean, it’s not duck tongues, but I figure it’s pretty good.” He jokes, and you laugh. 

 “Okay. When?” 

 🔪

 It’s disgustingly easy to pretend you didn’t let Bucky cum on your belly in the walk in just last night. He pays little attention to you, and what words he does have for you are terse. At first, the sight of him makes your stomach clench nervously, but he stares through you, and you eagerly return the favor. You don’t even bother asking him for tasks anymore, simply tying your black apron around your waist, and walking over to Bruce’s station to see if he needs any help. 

 “You know how to make cilantro oil, right?” he asks, and you’re off, boiling, blanching, blending and straining until you’ve got almost a quart of emerald green oil. He’s got you making red pepper remoulade when Steve’s gentle tap almost sends the whisk you’re holding right into his face. 

 “Oh, oh shit, I’m so sorry Mr. Rogers, I didn’t see you—” you watch as he wipes a glob of remoulade from his cheek and brings it to his mouth. 

 “Don’t worry about it. That’s good, needs salt. Can I speak with you?” he asks, cocking his head. Your heart immediately starts hammering so hard in your chest you’re surprised he can’t see it through your shirt. You hide your shaking hands in your apron, nodding. He spins on his heel and makes for the office, and you follow closely behind. “This won’t take long, I know you’re working hard.” he says over his shoulder at you. 

 Scenarios are running through your brain at top speed, each worse than the last. He knows about Bucky. 

 Oh fuck, what if there are cameras in the walk in? 

 Sweet lord, what if there’s audio? You’re fighting not to hyperventilate as he waits for you to enter, closing the door behind you. 

 “I wanted to congratulate you on your dessert last night, I heard amazing things from everyone.” Steve genuinely sounds pleased, and you release the breath you’ve been holding since he pulled you aside. “I know it hasn’t been… the easiest of times with Buck being… how he is,” he adds, and the nervousness returns. How much does he know? How much did Bucky tell him? 

 You know better than to complain, even though it’s all you want to do. You want to tell him what a bully Bucky is, though you know it’s likely all for naught anyway—there’s no way Steve doesn’t know just how far his star chef is willing to take his grudges. “I’m learning so much,” you reply dismissively, forcing a smile. “Never worked in an easy kitchen. It’s nothing I can’t handle.” 

 Steve smiles back at you, though his is much more genuine than your own. “Good. Because I’d like you to prepare a special every week. Doesn’t have to be dessert, but I figure it’ll take one thing off of Bucky’s to-do list.” You’re not sure how it’s possible to feel both triumph and despair all at the same time, but you do. They both settle over you evenly, and your shoulders sag a little from their weight. 

 “Are you fucking kidding?” you shriek excitedly, unable to stop yourself from jumping up out of your seat. You, designing specialty menu items for Adder? You pinched yourself discreetly, just to be sure that you were actually awake, and not passed out in the walk-in or something. The burst of pain makes you giddy—it’s really happening. You settle back into your seat, your heart pounding. 

 I’m really fucking doing this. 

 You should be proud of this moment, happy that your talent, your hard work, is finally paying off. This is it, the road you’d only dreamed of trodding when you’d moved out of your mom’s apartment with your first cheap set of knives. Except, sat smack dab in the middle of it is the infuriating roadblock of King Asshole, who you just know will not take this very well. The dark cloud settles over your mood before you can stop it. 

 “Um, Mr. Rogers, does B—Chef Barnes know about this?” You can’t keep the worried edge out of your voice. Steve nods at you knowingly. This decision was reached without Bucky’s input, and since he can’t punish Steve, you already know he’s going to punish you. 

 “Ah. No, he doesn’t. Not yet, anyway. I plan on having that conversation after closing.” After I leave, you mean, so he can’t hunt me down and intimidate me out of it before the menu goes out tomorrow. 

 “And…what are my limits, sir?” you ask tentatively, and your mouth drops open a little as he shrugs. “Does it have to be dessert, or—”

 “Anything.” he smiles at you. “I’d like to see what you can do.” The giddy rush of excitement you feel has you running through your mental rolodex of recipes, trying to figure out which one’s going to feature in the special menu. You’re already rising from your chair, your eyes glazed over just a little as you tick things off in your brain. 

 Buttery scallops with a swiss-chard reduction? No. Grilled char with a sweet corn and cabbage slaw—

 “Make sure you get your order request in before open tomorrow!” Steve calls after you, his voice barely registering as you make your way back to cold-prep. 

 What the fuck am I gonna make?

 🔪

 You make a point to submit your order form to Steve, not King Asshole at the end of your shift. He accepts it without complaint after skimming it—and you feel your heart plummet to your feet. You’d half thought he’d reject it—after all, scallops are expensive even when they’re in season, and, well… you’re not Bucky. 

 But Steve simply smiles and nods. “I’ll have twenty pounds fresh tomorrow.” 

 His words are unspoken—this is your budget. Stick to it. It’s your job to manage portion control, to manage your inventory, just like Bucky does. It’s nothing you haven’t done before, but somehow this feels different. Both familiar and shockingly new, all at once. 

 Nothing can dampen your good mood that night—not even when you get home to find Kara and her latest paramour tangled up on the couch. 

 “Oh shit!” It’s not like you haven’t seen Kara’s boobs before—when have you not seen them, she’s practically naked all the time—but you’re less enthused about the muscular man holding your favorite throw pillow over his clear erection. “S-sorry, Kara said—”

 “No worries.” You reply tiredly, fixing Kara with a look as she smiles sheepishly at you over the back of the sofa. 

 “I thought you’d be gone just a little longer,” she replies, having at least the good grace to look thoroughly embarrassed. “Peter and I will take this to my room.” 

 “How benevolent of you,” you say dryly. “You’re totally paying for a deep clean.” You grumble at her as you walk past them, purposefully looking anywhere but at them. Kara’s giggle follows behind you as you close your door and start stripping out of your sweat and grease stained clothes. Your phone vibrates, and as you’re wrapping your towel around yourself, you grab it. 

 A quick peek into the hallway proves its emptiness before you make your way to the bathroom. You turn on the water as hot as it’ll go, before draping your towel across the hooks on the back of the door. Your phone vibrates again, and this time you actually check it. It’s your mom—telling you how proud she is of you. 

 It’s bittersweet, mainly because you know how disappointed she would be to know that you’d slept with your boss—at work, no less. You finish up in the shower, running a wide toothed comb through your wet curls and giving them a quick twist before heading to your bedroom. 

 The morning comes too quickly for your taste, and you feel unprepared as you ready yourself for the day ahead. King Asshole’s bound to know about your special now, and you can only hope he’s gotten the inevitable ensuing tantrum out of his system before you get to Adder. 

 Soon, however, there simply isn’t space for King Asshole and all of his bullshittery in your head. You’re far too busy going over every recipe for every component of your dish—the best white wine Nat had at the bar for poaching your scallops, specialty creamery butter for your shiitake mushrooms, grilled asparagus with balsamic glaze. You’re dreaming about garnishes when you walk in—crispy tarragon leaves? Lemon oil?—and you don’t hear your name. Not till a familiar hand grasps your shoulder in warning. 

 “Hey.” Scott’s voice finally breaks through to you. “Welcome back to earth.” 

 “Sorry,” you reply sheepishly. “I was… somewhere else.” In your mind, you were already in the kitchen, apron on and knife in hand. “Something wrong?” 

 Scott raises an eyebrow at you. “You’re kidding, right?” He deadpans. As if on cue, a ringing shout echoes from beyond the swinging doors into the kitchen, and you wince. “He’s been going off all morning.” You’re not stupid enough to believe it’s coincidence that Chef Asshole’s latest tantrum is coming on the heels of your success. 

 Has anyone told him how transparent he is? You think sourly to yourself, unable to keep the scowl from your own features. “Let me guess. He saw the menu?” You ask, wincing as a loud crash followed by a stream of curses echoes from the kitchen.  Hopefully that was something falling and not the sound of a pot hitting the wall. 

 “Ding ding ding.” Hope says dryly over Scott’s shoulder. “You want some cover?” She asks, nodding at the swinging doors. “I can distract him.” You laugh in spite of your anxiousness. It’s not a secret mission—it’s just your menu. 

 “No thanks. I’m a big girl, I can handle it by myself.” Hope smiles at your confidence, though you can tell when you glance up at her eyes that she doesn’t believe it. That makes two of us.

 The kitchen is already in full swing by the time you walk in, and you spy Peter scrubbing what looks like orange teletubby vomit off of the floor. You grimace at him apologetically. “Jeez.” He shrugs. 

 “Can’t catch everything you drop,” he says nonchalantly. You make your way to the line cautiously, and though you get the eye from a few people, no one says anything as you set up shop. Bucky is notoriously absent, and you wonder if he’s back in the office, seething at Steve for daring to allow you to ascend in his kitchen. You carve out a little space for yourself across from the french cooking suite, laying your knives across the long cutting board. 

 I guess I better get started.

 So you do. You head to the walk-in and begin gathering your ingredients. The baking sheet is half full when the door slams open behind you. You force your body to remain still and calm, even as tension fills the air. 

 “Going behind my back is a real bad way to get off my shit-list, kid.” Bucky growls from behind you, and you peer over your shoulder at him with a raised brow. 

 “Good thing that’s not my goal then.” You snap. “I didn’t go behind your back for anything, I was offered something, and I said yes. If you don’t like it, take it up with your boss.” 

 Bucky scoffs. “Steve’s not my boss.” He watches you pull produce and place it on your tray, you can feel his eyes heavy against your back. “Hope you’re not fucking him too.” This time, you reel as though you’ve been slapped. You round on him, murder on your mind and in your gaze. 

 “Maybe that’s how you got to be here, considering working with you is like walking a fucking minefield, but I, shockingly, have made it this far on my ability to outlast childish little dicks like you.” You throw the bundle of fresh tarragon in your hand a little too forcefully to the tray. You bruised the leaves probably, but you’re too angry to think about that now. 

 “This little dick had you drooling and crying in here last week, don’t forget, kid.” He sneers nastily, and regret makes your chest hurt. 

 “Don’t pretend you weren’t panting after me the minute I walked in. Matter of fact, the minute we met at the market.” You fire back. “And it burns you up, doesn’t it?” You stepped closer, your voice a smug imitation of innocence. “It kills you that even with all of your bullshit I’m just as good.” He scowls, but you keep going. “That I know my worth.” You laugh. “Maybe it wasn’t me that needed it so bad, was it, huh? Chef?” 

 You sweep past him as he stews in enraged silence, and unlike the last time you left the walk-in after an encounter with Bucky, you feel like you’ve taken something back instead of having it taken from you. 

 The afternoon is a whirlwind of activity, and through it all, Bucky coldly regards you. You don’t ask for help with your prep, you know better—everyone has their own assignments, and though you know Bruce or Clint would gladly pitch in, you don’t dare ask. You don’t want to upset the apple cart even more than you already have. 

 You don’t regret loosing your anger on Bucky, he deserved it. You were two consenting adults, and it was wrong of him to throw it in your face like that, especially since he’d sought you out. You readied your own little entree station on the line, stacking plates near your poaching station, keeping your glaze warm in the precision cooker. 

 Bucky gathered the wait-staff in the center of the kitchen, rattling off the menu with practiced ease.

 “And the special?” Sam asked, and when you glanced up at him, his warm eyes were bright with hidden laughter. Bucky grimaced. 

 “Scallops. Asparagus. It’s simple.” 

 You rolled your eyes. “I have a tasting dish ready for you guys, if you want.” You gestured to the practice plate you’d made just minutes before. Sam was the first over, cutting into the scallop with the side of his fork. It’s poached to perfection, splitting like butter under a hot knife. He drags it through the glaze, making sure to get a tarragon leaf for his trouble. You watch anxiously as he pops it into his mouth. 

 “Oh my fucking God.” He moans, his eyes rolling shut. Sam shakes his head, still chewing as he points his fork accusingly at the plate. “That is—fuck.” 

 “I want to try,” Scott replies impatiently, sticking his own fork into the plate. “Holy shit. Holy shit, Hope you gotta—” There are more hands and utensils than you can count, suddenly everyone in the kitchen is clamoring for a bite.

 You clear your throat. “Guys.” Clint looks at you guiltily, his fork halfway up to his mouth. You raise an eyebrow, and he grins sheepishly. 

 “Point taken. Clear off, all of you.” He quickly takes the bite, and you snicker, before handing the plate off to Peter. 

 The kitchen devolves into organized chaos, shouts of orders ringing out over the sound of things boiling and frying, the sound of pots hitting the burners and knives against cutting-boards. 

 And you… your hands are flying over your station as the orders pour in, tacked to the order line just above where you’re standing. Two specials for six, one for twelve, two for eight—no asparagus, no sage. Your head is spinning, and your hands can barely keep up. 

 And you’ve never been happier. 

 It’s not exhaustion you feel, but exhilaration as your spoon drags through the dollop of thick balsamic glaze on your plate to leave a perfect swoop. You place a scallop at the end before turning to remove your next batch of asparagus from the grill. It’s maddening, chaotic—and you wouldn’t have it any other way.

 This is why you were here.

 And when the last order goes out, and you begin cleaning your station, you’re surprised by the congratulations you receive, Bucky notably not among them. Steve claps you on the shoulder, probably a little harder than he means to.

 “You sold out, kid.” He nods approvingly. You can’t fight the heat that creeps into your cheeks at his praise. You’ve worked here almost two, three months now, and you still can’t bite back your giddy schoolgirl excitement. It makes it all the better when you look up to see Bucky’s sour expression.

 Eat your heart out, King Asshole.

 “Got enough for tomorrow?” 

 You nod enthusiastically. “Sure do.” 

 “Then we’ll run it again, every night until you run out.” 

 Your head is ringing. You’re staring at him dumbly, your mouth slightly open as you stammer. “Of-of course, yeah. Totally. Again.” You feel yourself pulled into a hug, and a familiar deep voice speaks amusedly into your ear. 

 “See? Knew you could do it.” 

 Sam.

 Your pulse quickens, and you push yourself away, trying to hide the embarrassed expression you know must be painted clearly across your features.   He’s so sweet, and nice, and… 

 Everything Bucky’s not. 

 He’s still hanging around when you leave, tired but satisfied. You’ve got a million pictures for your instagram, and still more to send to your mother, who’s almost as excited as you are. 

 “Hey, you. Mind if I walk with you?” You can’t believe he waited. Sam’s smile is soft and genuine, and it makes your chest clench tightly, both because he’s so charming you can barely stand it—and because for some reason every time you’re alone with him, all you can think of is Bucky. 

 “Oh, of course not.” 

 You turn to leave, but the door swings open behind you. Bucky emerges, running a hand through his short hair with what looks like frustration. 

 “Sam I—oh.” He stops abruptly, the irritated expression on his face deepening as he takes you in. “Didn’t mean to interrupt anything.” 

 “You didn’t.” Sam replies smoothly. “Take it easy, man, I’m going to walk short-stack home.” You cringe at the nickname coming out of his mouth—it’s bad enough that Bucky calls you that, and now Sam. Bucky scoffs. 

 “Whatever. I’ll talk to you later.”  He turns on his heel and strides away, and you shake your head, huffing an irritated breath through your teeth. 

 “He’s not so bad, you know,” Sam replies, and you roll your eyes. He laughs. “Really.” 

 “I’m sure it’s different when you’re, you know, not me.” 

 It’s summer still, but the night is cool and quiet, a nice change of pace from the hot intensity of the kitchen. 

 “He’ll ease up. Bucky’s a little… territorial.” 

 “That’s one way to put it.”

 He laughs. “So… to not talk about our boss for a second,” you can feel his gaze on you, and the back of your neck prickles as the steady pace the two of you had been keeping slows down. “I was thinking. I looked at the schedule, and what do you know. I’m off Sunday, you’re off Sunday…” He grins, rubbing the back of his neck. “Fuck, I’m bad at this.”

 “You really are, I’m actually kind of enjoying it.” 

 “Well if you don’t want free dinner—”

 “Oh no,” you laugh, “I definitely want free dinner. So. Sunday?”

 “Yeah, Sunday.”

 “Okay.” 

 Your admission brings genuine shock to his face, and then he smiles wide. “Okay then. I’ll see you Sunday, pretty girl.” His lips are soft like butter on your cheek, and he smells like musk and warm cinnamon. 

 “Sunday it is.” 

to be continued…

I am no longer maintaining taglists, my friends! Please follow @box-of-bones-library​​ and turn on notifications to get updates about new fics, chapters, and drabbles! thank you!

Take Care

fictober day 22 | “No promises.”

summary | Just a night before any other mission. Just more warnings because Bucky needs to keep you safe.

fandom | Marvel

pairing | Bucky Barnes x Avenger!fem!Reader

warnings | soft and protective Bucky Barnes is a warning himself, fluff

word count | 535

author’s note | this is just some fluff to make the day brighter… hope you like it <3

🍁 fictober 2021 masterlist 🍁 Bucky Barnes masterlist 🍁

Your relationship with Bucky was the best you’ve ever had. He was so caring with you, always so gentle and protective you found it weird sometimes, but it was such a good thing to get used to.

Being one of the top agents in SHIELD gave you the reputation you fought for, people admired you from afar, afraid to come too close to the relentless agent you were. Only a few people that were close to you would actually worry about your safety during the missions until you became an Avenger, and even there it wasn’t something extreme.

But then Bucky came to the compound and changed everything.

You’d like to say the connection was instant, love at first sight and all those cute things you saw in movies, but you were in real life. He was really closed at first, he continued being but now it was a healthy way, wouldn’t be close enough to anyone besides Steve. It took some time but he warmed up to you, he trusted you and you kept that trust like the most precious thing that was ever handed to you. You became friends before anything else, happening to grow that friendship into what you were today, lovers.

Since the first day you talked Bucky turned quite protective of you during missions, having your back even when it wasn’t his place to be and risking his life more than necessary. It led to many conversations where you asked, no you begged, for him to take more care of himself. It had some effect, a little.

But the one thing you’d never get used to were those talks before solo missions, or any one he wouldn’t be assigned to go with you.

“Doll, remember to take care, okay?” He’d say from his place on the bed as you checked the equipment carefully stored on the duffel bag. “It’ll be okay if you take a step back if it’s too much.”

That concern in his voice warmed your heart. No matter how much he fought by your side and saw your abilities with his own eyes Bucky was still afraid of losing you.

He’d still worry about you. Always.

“I know, honey.” You got up from your place on the ground and sat down by his side propped on the headboard, taking his metal hand in yours. “But you do know I can handle a lot, right? I’ll be okay, as always.”

“I know, I know.” Bucky slid down the bed to lay his head on your chest as you caressed his chesnuck locks. “Just… Don’t mess with stuff you can’t handle.”

Maybe it had to do with some occasions you got caught up in the mission. Too focused for your own good in getting it done. Just maybe...

“No promises.”

He looked up at you seriously. Perhaps the joke was a bit too much for the moment, so you leaned down to kiss his lips as a silent apology.

“I promise I’ll take care and I’ll not bite more than I can chew, okay?”

“Good.” Bucky came back to his previous place, closing his eyes. “I need you back here. A lot.”

“I don’t plan on losing this. Not ever.”