#buckybarnesbingo2020 | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

avintagekiss24 · 4 years

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the forest > bucky barnes

|| pairing: bucky barnes x black!reader

|| word count: 11,557

|| warnings: language words, smut, sex, sex pollen kinda, animal transformation, grumpy bucky, angst/horror?, fae/faries, fairy tale vibes

|| challenge: @sourpatchkidsandacokecan Little Darlin’s Mystery AU Challenge - Werewolf AU - You have been lost in the forest due to a curse that won’t let you leave.

|| square filled: @star-spangled-bingo SSB2020 I3: “This is not what it looks like”

|| square filled: @buckybarnesbingo K2: Survival in the wild

|| summary: You wake up in a strange, magical place. All alone, you start to walk and find that you aren’t the only one wandering the trees.

|| link: ao3

|| note: i don’t know why i’m nervous to post this, but i am! forgive me, my brain gets the best of me sometimes. i hope you guys enjoy this - despite the posting anxiety, i did enjoy weaving this little tale. i just hope it all makes sense :)

line dividers by writeyourmindaway!

Your feet are blistered and bloody. You’ve been walking for hours. Your throat is dry, your eyes puffy and swollen; watery. Your sundress is tattered and ripped and you don’t know why. You can’t remember. You don’t know where you are, why you’re here, or how you ended up in this place - but the fear sitting in your belly is the only thing keeping you moving.

It’s dense here. Thick, green, lush trees and shrubs line the dirt path that you walk on. Sun rays peek through the treetops, but because they’re so thick, the trees, it looks like a dark day; a muted day. You can hear birds chirping, little bugs buzzing around, even spot a butterfly or two. It’s beautiful - but ominous. Like there’s danger lurking just around the bend.

You hear crackling in the distance - leaves being crunched, twigs being broken - and you freeze, snapping your head towards it. You swallow hard as you zero in on the noise, everything else going silent around you. You clutch the hem of your dress in your hand, as it’s the only tangible thing that makes any of this real, and just listen. Your heart beats loudly in your ears. A bead of sweat slips down the side of your face. Your breath is shallow.

The crackling stops. You wait for a beat or two, blinking slowly, listening hard, and then you start moving again - trying to find something, someone… anything. You nervously continue to play with the hem of your dress as you pad through this still forest, the soft dirt squishing through your toes. The sound of water soon hits your ears, soft and rippling, and just at the end of the path, there’s a small bank leading to a quiet little river.

You quicken your pace, stepping into the grass, and then the wet sand before you fall to your knees and dip your hands into the water. You splash your face, once, twice, three times, before dipping your hands back into the surprising cool liquid, cupping them to collect a small amount. You bring it to your lips to drink, slurping it in haste as your thirst overwhelms you. Handful after handful, you bring the small offering of water to your lips, barely finishing the gulp before thrusting your hands back in the water.

You’re so consumed with the cool liquid that you don’t even hear the crackling of the leaves behind you. You drop your hands back into the water as you lift your eyes to the other side of the bank slowly. Your breath goes shallow again as you blink rapidly, now acutely aware that you’re being watched by someone, or something. You swallow hard and let your lips part as you turn your head, peeking over your shoulder - and suddenly, you’re face to face with a large, white wolf.

Your chin starts to tremble as fear paralyzes you. The animal’s eyes are a piercing blue as they stare back at you. Its head is low, ears laid back on its head. Its nose twitches as it sniffs at the air, but it never takes its eyes off of you. It lowers its head to the ground, sniffing at the footprints you left behind before it lifts its gaze to you again.

It takes a step towards you, slowly, and then another, and another. You don’t move - you can’t. You just start to tremble as it closes the distance between you, a single tear slipping down your cheek as your eyes cloud over with water. It gets nose to nose with you, blinking slowly as it starts to sniff you. You let out a sob as it pushes its nose into your hair, breathing you in. It lets out a hard breath, tossing your hair with it before it tilts its head towards the sky and howls loudly.

You jump and gasp at the sudden burst of noise as it rocks through the forest. Birds flock from the trees as more howls from somewhere deep in the trees, making you snap your head towards the chorus, your chest now heaving.

“You’re quick,” a deep voice sounds, making you snap your head back again, “Took me hours to track you.”

The wolf is suddenly gone, now replaced with a very tall, blonde, blue eyed, naked man. Your eyes go wide as you scramble back into the water. You blink furiously, pushing more hot tears down your face as your mind starts to race. You shake your head as your face breaks, finally giving into the confusion and fear that’s motivated you for most of the day. The man kneels and tilts his head as he watches you, his eyes still searching as if he isn’t quite sure of you.

“It’s okay,” he says softly, holding out his hand, “I’m not going to hurt you.”

“I don’t know what’s going on,” you cry openly, “I don’t - I don’t know where I am.”

“It’s okay, I’ll explain it to you on the way. Come.”

He wiggles his fingers, trying to coax you out of the water. You shake your head again frantically, dragging in a breath, nearly choking on it, “Please, I just, I want to go home. Please.”

“Come.” He says again, his voice still soft- still calm.

“No, please let me go. Please.” You beg.

The man sighs, blinking back at you slowly, “You can’t go home. Come with me please, before something dangerous finds you.”

You stare at his hand, still outstretched towards you, before you cut your eyes back up to his. A deep growl sounds through the trees, followed by a series of menacing barks. You and the man both snap towards the noise. A black wolf moves through the trees on the opposite side of the stream, instantly sending chills down your spine. Its eyes are golden, but a darkness looms in them as it peers at you. It starts to growl again, lowering its head as it bares its teeth, barking loudly again.

“Cut it out,” the man behind you says sternly, “She’s already claimed, Rumlow.”

You gasp when the black wolf changes right in front of you. Just like that, in the blink of an eye, a dark haired man stands on the bank, “She hasn’t been marked yet,” he smirks, his eyes bouncing between yours and the man behind you, “So technically, she hasn’t been claimed, Rogers.”

“Back off. I’m warning you.”

“Ooooh,” Rumlow laughs, “Scary voice.”

You swallow and glance up at the man behind you, Rogers. He keeps his eyes across the stream, his hands balled at his sides, his chest swollen with possession, “Get behind me,” He hisses, “Now.”

You oblige - and fast. You scramble to your feet and step behind him, peering around his arm at the menacing Rumlow. He sneers at you, wiggling his fingers, trying to intimidate you. The golden eyed man takes a step into the water and Rogers transforms back to his four legged alter ego. He digs his paw into the wet sand and lowers his head as a deep growl rumbles in his throat.

You skirt your eyes back to this Rumlow, watching as he turns, thick black hair and four legs returning to his frame. He barks at you and Rogers, saliva dripping from his mouth as he bares his teeth.

They lunge at each other without so much as a warning, making you stumble back as you inhale sharply. The sounds of nails ripping through flesh, water splashing, loud barking and growling fill the air as you once again blink back tears. You stand in utter disbelief as these two half animal, half man creatures rip into each other - one, seemingly for your protection, the other for ownership.

Rogers prevails. He pins the black wolf to the mud, his teeth biting into the others throat and neck, shaking his head back and forth. The black wolf whelps in pain as it kicks and scratches at the much larger, much stronger opponent. Rogers releases him, taking a few steps back but keeps his eyes on the other as it scrambles back up the bank. The golden eyes are back on you as he whips back around, growling lowly, but soon scampers off with a heavy limp.

Rogers watches the trees for a minute longer before he turns and moves slowly back to your side. He rubs his head against your hand, licking your fingers gently. You look down at him, his big blue eyes gazing back up into yours and you can’t help but pat the top of his head. He did just save you, after all.

“Thank you.” You offer softly.

He takes a few steps past you and then turns to look at you, waiting for you to join him. You really have nowhere else to go and knowing now what exactly lurks out in the trees, you’re too afraid to have him leave you. The two of you start to walk back in the direction that you first came. He stays in his wolf form, his heavy paws padding softly in the dirt next to you, his eyes wide and alert as you traipse through the forest. Your mind races with the silence, his words playing over and over again - you can’t go home. You can’t go home. You can’t go home. Your stomach starts to twist all over again. Why can’t you go home? What did you do to make it so?

Maybe it’s a dream - maybe it’s just all one big, bad dream and you can’t wake yourself up. You start to pray, closing your eyes as you walk, pleading with God to just wake you up from all of this. But you don’t - wake up that is.

You walk for hours. The heat beating down on you from the sun starts to wear on you, your throat going dry again as sweat beads on your forehead. Your feet ache as each footprint you leave behind starts to clump with blood. Your vision starts to blur and you stumble slightly, making Rogers snap his head towards you.

He circles your legs, barking a few times before he changes into his human form again. He grabs your elbow, his eyes searching yours intently before he brushes your messy hair away from your face.

“We’re almost there, let me carry you.”

You pull away from him but stumble again, “I’m fine, I -”

Without another word, you’re lifted from your feet with ease. He curls you into his broad, hairy chest, wrapping an arm around your back and tucking the other underneath your knees. You’re too exhausted to fight him. You rest your head against his chest and let him carry you slowly the rest of the way, your eyes closing to slits. You’re barely conscious when Rogers steps through a wall of brush and shrubs and suddenly, you’ve stepped into a utopia.

You blink furiously as you try and make sure that you are seeing what you are really seeing. The air smells sweeter. The trees and grass are alive with motion as a breeze whips over your body. You feel eyes on you as Rogers moves you through this new town-like place. You can see cottages placed randomly throughout the trees as people start to come out from them, watching. You tense, but Rogers is quick to quell your fear.

“It’s okay. Your scent is spreading, that’s all.”

“My scent? I smell bad?”

He smiles a little, keeping his eyes straight ahead, “Not bad, just new.”

“Where are we going?”

“To see Wanda. She’s our seer.”

He moves you through another set of trees and you’re standing at the edge of a large lake. The water level is low - a wispy waterfall to your left barely dribbles into the body of water. That’s when you spot her, a redheaded woman bathing in the water. Her back is to you, but she’s calm as she sweeps her hand over her outstretched arm, smoothing water over her skin. Rogers sits you on your feet but keeps his hand on the small of your back to help keep you steady.

You glance over at him, where he meets your gaze, shaking his head gently as he taps his index finger against his lips, “Wait until she calls for you.” He whispers.

Another man pops up from underneath the water seconds later, scaring you slightly. He pushes the water away from his face with his hands before he sweeps them over the top of his head. He smiles at you, and you smile back without hesitation - he’s so beautiful. It’s a warm, gentle, friendly smile - the gap in his teeth and the crinkles at the corner of his eyes invite you to feel just a little more comfortable. The sun makes his brown skin glow, accentuating the drops of water that collect on his shoulders and chest.

“Steve?” You hear the woman say.

“Yes. I have her.”

“I know you do,” her voice is sweet, thick with comfort and amusement, “Sam, can you bring her to me?”

She disappears under the water. You watch as the other man, Sam, swims towards you and glance nervously over at Rogers - no, Steve. He gives you a reassuring nod and a hint of a smile before you turn back just as the smooth skinned Sam emerges from the water. You quickly avert your eyes towards your feet, as he’s stark naked as well, but steal a glance or two. Water cascades down his rippled chest and stomach, glinting underneath the strong sun.

Sam outstretches his hand, a broad smile lighting up his face, “Hi, I’m Sam. Welcome.”

When you hesitate, Steve steps a little closer, “She’s still a little foggy.”

“That’s okay, darlin’. We’re not going to hurt you. Promise.” Sam reassures, keeping his hand open and outstretched.

You take it with trepidation, allowing him to slowly pull you into the cool water. It feels good on your achy, bloody feet, and sore limbs. Sam turns to you again, “It’s okay if you want to dip under. You’ll feel a whole lot better, I swear it.”

You don’t even hesitate. You push your body underneath the water, closing your eyes as your hearing gets muffled by the liquid. You pop back up seconds later, pushing your hands over your hair as the sun warms you again. He’s right. You do feel a whole lot better - clean.

Sam wraps his long fingers around your arm and places it over his shoulder, before doing the same with the other. Before you can question him, he starts to swim out deeper, pulling you with him. You let him carry you towards the mysterious woman, who is now wearing a bright smile as she wiggles her thin fingers at you as you approach. She swims underneath the waterfall and Sam follows, setting you on your feet before he exits.

“Hungry?” She asks, handing you a small bowl of assorted fruits, “I wish I could offer you more, but we’re going through a bit of a rough growing season. I had to walk for miles to find these as it was.”

“That’s okay,” You greedily take the bowl, stuffing the sweet berries into your mouth, “Thank you, I’m- starving. Thank you.”

“Eat up, baby. I know you’re exhausted.” She watches you as you eat, her eyes twinkling as she smiles. She closes her eyes after a few minutes and tilts her head upwards, nodding every now and again as if she’s listening to something - or someone.

She moans softly as she sways her hands back and forth in the water, her fingertips just barely touching the surface. Then, suddenly, she pops her big eyes open and blinks at you, “My God,” she whispers, “It’s you.”

“M-me? I-” You stammer, glancing around nervously.

She smiles big as she grabs your hands in hers, “We’ve been waiting for you. Bucky, he’s… I promised him you’d come and here you are.”

You shake your head slowly as dread fills your stomach, “I don’t know what you’re talking about. I don’t- I don’t even remember how I got here and Steve says that I can’t go home. Please. I just- I want to go home.”

Wanda pulls you into her bare chest, hugging you tightly. She pulls away seconds later, her eyes bouncing between yours, “This is scary at first, it was for all of us, but you’ll come to love it here. You are going to rule this forest one day and drive out all of the evil. You, dear girl,” she smiles at you again, “You will finally bring us peace. Please, close your eyes.”

“Wanda, I don’t-”

“Shhh,” she coos, “Close your eyes.”

You take a breath, letting your shoulders slump slightly but close your eyes. You feel Wanda braid her fingers with yours before she starts to speak again.

“Only the cursed inhabit this enchanted forest.” She says softly. Your lips part as fear flushes through you, “All of us, at different times found ourselves wandering through these trees, cursed to never be able to leave. Each one of us has gained an affliction over time, some sooner than others.”

“Affliction?” you whisper, your chest starting to heave.

“I’m a seer. I wasn’t at first, it came to me over time. I can see other’s afflictions before they manifest. I’m also known to have premonitions and visions of what’s to come. Steve and Sam, they are lycans, able to shift between wolf and human form. Bucky, whom you’ll meet soon enough, a werewolf. Unlucky for him, full moons come around every night. Clint, another shifter of an avian kind. Natasha and Carol, mermaids, unable to walk to the earth.”

“Then what am I?” You ask, your voice trembling.

“We’ll get to that soon,” She answers. You feel the water shift as she moves around you. She drags her hands up your arms and shoulders softly, “Try and remember. Remember what brought you here.”

You focus your breathing, in through your nose, out through your mouth, as you force your brain to try and remember. You squeeze your eyes tight, but nothing forms - not a thought, not a memory… nothing. You shake your head as your chin starts to tremble, all of the fear and anxiety rising up in your throat.

“I can’t,” you start to whimper, “I can’t remember, I don’t know.”

“It’s okay,” Wanda coos, hugging you from behind, “It’s okay. Relax, just try and remember. Feel the water and the warm sun, just let it carry you away. Focus on the waterfall, hear it.”

Tears stream down your cheeks but you push out a shaky breath as you digest her words. Feel the cool water. Hear the waterfall. Wanda grabs your hand, flipping it over before she presses her fingers into your palm, drawing gentle circles, “Just try and remember.”

A quick image flashes before your eyes - pink. Balloons, a congratulations banner… the clinking of champagne glasses. Then, there’s faces, happy ones - Shelia! Romero and Tammy are also there, all hugging you, wishing you luck. You’ve worked so hard for this! No one deserves this more than you!

“I got it,” you whisper, “I got the job. I was promoted to bank manager.”

“That’s it. Stay there, just remember.”

You see it now. They threw you a party during your lunch break - bought you a cake and everything. After the celebration, you walked back to your desk and there it was - one singular cupcake, topped with pink icing and white sprinkles.

You gasp, covering your mouth with your hand, “Oh my god.”

Wanda sways you back and forth softly, resting her chin on your shoulder, walking you through it. You looked around, but saw no one paying you any attention. You sat in your chair, stuffed to the gills from the lunch and the cake - but you brought the small pastry to your nose anyway, inhaling the sweetness of it. You moaned as a smile spread on your face. You were always a sucker for a cupcake.

You peeled away the wrapping and brought it to your face again, ready to take a bite, when you noticed a small slip of paper peeking out from underneath your keyboard. You pulled it out with the tips of your fingers and furrowed your brow as you read the unfamiliar handwriting. You deserve all that’s coming to you.

More tears spill from your eyes as the realization hits you like a ton of bricks.

You looked around one final time to see if anyone was watching, but found no one paying you any mind. You looked back down at the cupcake in your hand and shrugged before closing your eyes and taking a bite. You moaned again as the spongy cake exploded on your taste buds. It was the best cupcake you had ever had. You finished it quickly and tossed the wrapper and note, before waking up your computer and returning to your emails, not even noticing the little old woman slipping out through the front doors.

“I didn’t give her the extension.” You whisper, your voice shaky, “She was months behind on her mortgage, we had already given her three. I couldn’t. My hands were tied. I couldn’t grant her another extension, I just couldn’t.”

“It’s okay, dear girl.”

“It’s not okay!” You shout, “She cursed me! She sent me here!”

“I told you it was going to be hard at first.”

You pull away from her, spinning around to face her again, “I want to leave! Now!”

“Honey -”

She reaches for you but you slap her hands from you as you back away, “I’m leaving. I’m not- I don’t know what you want, but I’m leaving!”

You move underneath the wispy waterfall and back out into the large lake as Wanda screams for you to stop. You swim hard, and fast towards the shore, feeling Sam and Steve’s eyes on you as they lounge underneath one of the large trees. They both stand, their eyes wide as you stumble up onto the bank, tripping over your own feet as you try and gain some traction.

You run towards the trees, the weight of your wet dress not slowing you down in the least bit. You hear Wanda’s voice again, this time instructing Sam and Steve to let you go, “She’ll get lost out there.” Steve worries.

“She’ll be fine,” Wanda says, taking a breath as she wades in the water, “You’ll just have to find her again in the morning.”

You run for miles. You run until the sun is replaced by the moon and the sounds of the day have completely stilled. You hear nothing but your own footsteps and the chirp of a cricket that you never seem to find. It’s cooled down considerably, your body is racked with chills as a gust of wind whips around you. The only thing keeping you going is fear. You’re afraid to stop and rest, not knowing what or who is out in these woods in the dark.

You push deeper, trying to use the moonlight as a guide but you have no idea what you’re looking for. Every time you think you’ve found a way out, that maybe you think you see a road or hear a car, you just move into a section of trees and shrubs and grass. This forest is never ending. Maybe they were right. Maybe you can’t -

You snap your head and gasp as a loud scream erupts from deep in the trees. It awakens the birds, making them all screech and fly out from their nests. The scream erupts again, this time louder, so loud you have to cover your ears. It sounds like a man being ripped apart from limb to limb. He screams again - a blood curdling one - and you cringe as it seems even louder, like he’s right behind you.

You start running again. The screams continue but each one gets deeper, more animal-like, more painful. You freeze right in your tracks when a loud, long howl sounds through the sleepy forest - a bay at the large, white moon in the sky. Unlucky for him, full moons come every night.

Soon, all you can hear is your own breathing. You cower behind a tree, hugging it tightly as you keep your eyes wide, your pupils surely blown. There’s a rustling in the trees and brush, twigs snapping, heavy, fast footsteps. Another howl, followed by random barks and then rushed footsteps again. Your eyes fill with water as your mind races, unsure of what to do, where to go. You don’t want to die out here.

Smell? I smell bad?

Not bad, just new.

Fuck.

You snap your head over your shoulder, watching as the bushes in the distance start to shake as something moves through it. You push away from the tree and dart off to your left, ducking and dodging random limbs and vines as you try to flee. You keep turning around as you run - but you see nothing. You just hear it. Barking, growling, howling - the heavy footsteps pounding into the ground as it closes in on you.

“Shit!” You cry as you push yourself as hard as you can, willing your feet to carry you faster. Your lungs and legs burn as you cut through the trees, ignoring the stinging cuts on your arms and feet from the branches whipping against you. You turn again, gasping you finally spot the beast chasing you emerging from the brush.

Just as you do, your foot tangles in an exposed root, tripping you. You hit the ground hard, face first, screaming as pain rips through your ankle and lower leg. A shadow casts over you as a large mass jumps clear over your head. It lands on all fours, the ground shaking with its weight when it lands. You sit up quickly, trying to back away, dragging your now bum leg as your fingernails dig into the dirt underneath you.

You drag in a deep, shaky breath as instant tears flood your face. Your body shakes as your face completely breaks with emotion. You stare back into a pair of pitch black eyes. This beast is huge - larger than Steve and Rumlow combined. It howls again, making you scream as your eardrums nearly burst from the sound. It stands on its back legs as it bays again and you could swear it’s seven feet tall. It falls back to the earth with another heavy thud, then lowers its head as it zeros in on you again.

It starts to growl, snarling its lip to show its sharp, white teeth. It barks and snaps at you, saliva dripping from its mouth as it takes a step towards you. You scamper backwards but your back slams into a tree. You try to stand but fall back to the ground as your leg just can’t carry you. It steps towards you again, still growling, still snapping.

You push up against the tree as hard as you can, almost wanting it to swallow you whole. You shut your eyes as the heat from its breath washes over your face, the rush of air pushing from its nostrils tossing your hair. You squirm, whimpering when you feel its wiry hair on your legs, its whiskers grazing against your cheek. You turn your head as it sniffs at you loudly, pushing its long nose through your hair and down your neck.

It pushes out another forceful breath through its nose, making you jump. You blink your eyes, slowly opening them as you turn back to face it. You pull in deep, audible breaths as you stare back at this… thing, this affliction, as Wanda’s words come back to you. Bucky, he’s… I promised him you’d come and here you are…

“Please,” you whisper quietly, so quietly you barely hear yourself, “Bucky, please.”

It tilts its head at the sound of the name - but not in the way you’d hoped. His eyes narrow as he snarls his lip again, that menacing growl rumbling through his chest and throat. His ears lay back on his head as he drops it, clearly threatened. He crouches down as he snaps at you again, dragging his front paw through the dirt as he readies himself to pounce.

You start to sob loudly, holding your hands out as you plead and beg - screaming for your life. The adrenaline and anxiety coursing through your veins becomes ever present as your head starts to spin. Your palms get sweaty, your heart racing and thumping against your chest as your body shakes. You can’t catch your breath, no matter how hard you try, you just can’t fill your lungs with air. You’re hot and cold all at the same time. Your vision tunnels - your pupils shrinking to the size of the tip of a pin.

Suddenly, everything goes black.

Bucky glances down at the woman in his arms as he trudges through the trees. It’s early morning, the sky still orange and pink as the birds start to sing. He’s not sure who she is, he just remembers her smell - strong - calling to him in the dark of the night. It’s the most vivid scent he’s ever encountered. So pure, so heavy that he can remember it even after his change. She’s not the usual newcomer around here - that he can tell.

He pushes into his home surroundings, most of their small community still snuggled tight in their cottages - “Bucky! There you are.”

He snaps his head towards the approaching Wanda, eyeing her as she steps next to him, sweeping her hand over the passed out woman’s forehead, “You know this one?” He asks.

She nods, “Just came to us yesterday. She’s -”

Bucky just nods, glancing out into the distance as he knows what she’s about to say, “She’s hurt. I think her ankle is broken. I might have - I think the gashes are from me.”

“No worries, I’ll get her fixed up. Do you mind taking her to your cottage?”

He sighs heavily, sending his eyes towards the small redhead, watching as she smiles softly, “Wanda,”

“You and Steve have more space,” she shrugs, her face filling with surprise as Bucky scoffs and rolls his eyes, “Sam and I just had a baby. This poor thing needs rest and looking after.”

“Well,” Bucky starts gruffly, “Steve can look after her then.”

Wanda throws her hands on her hips, giving him a stern look before she turns her attention to the shuffling coming from behind them, “Clint? Can you do me a favor?”

The short blonde approaches, nodding his head towards Bucky, “Of course. Who’s that?” He asks, pointing towards the unconscious woman in his hands.

Wanda smiles brightly, “She’s our Faery.”

Clint’s eyes widen as a smirk spreads on his face, “No shit, really?”

Wanda nods, and Bucky rolls his eyes again.

“What’s the favor?” Clint asks, chuckling softly.

“See if you can find Steve and Sam. They’re out looking for her. They couldn’t have gotten far.”

With another quick nod, Clint is now soaring towards the tops of the trees, his arms replaced by long, sleek wings as he transforms. He screeches, his bird call rippling through the forest as he flies out of sight.

Bucky starts to move again, readjusting the woman in his arms as her legs bounce against his naked thigh. He moves into he and Steve’s shared cottage, Wanda right behind him as he moves into his room. He lays the unconscious woman down on his bed before walking back out of the room without a word.

He collects a large bowl from the kitchen and fills it with warm water while grabbing clean towels and cotton swabs. He pads back into the room, sitting the supplies on the small table next to his bed before he pulls open the drawer, grabbing his stitch kit and tossing it on the bed.

“Where are you going?” Wanda questions from her spot on the bed, watching as he walks back towards his bedroom door.

Bucky doesn’t even turn around. He just holds up a bar of soap as he heads for the main door, “Bath.”

Bucky runs his hands through his short hair as he comes up from underneath the water. He’s still not really used to it, but he needed the haircut, and Steve actually did a good job on it. He keeps his eyes closed and his head tilted towards the sky as the sun beats down on him, warming him as he stands in the cool water. There is nothing better than a bath after a night of pillaging.

His mind floats back to Wanda and the strange woman keeping him from collapsing into his bed. He scoffs at just the thought. He’s never bought into Wanda’s bullshit. She’s been blowing smoke up his ass for years, but it just goes into one ear and right out the other one. She’s coming Bucky, I can feel it. She’ll fix this place and she’ll love you forever, plus a day. He rolled his eyes then and he rolls his eyes now. She seems to forget this place is a literal curse.

Who could love you? Bucky pops his eyes open as the thought floats through his mind. Who could actually love a monster like you? “Nobody,” he mumbles to himself, letting his eyes drop to the water. That’s why it’s all bullshit.

He hears a rustling in the trees and turns his head and body to watch Sam, Steve, and Clint emerge. Sam lifts his hand towards him, which Bucky returns with a head nod, before he swims towards the bank to join the three men.

“Where did you find her?” Steve asks as soon as he’s on the bank.

Bucky shrugs, “Out pretty far. I came across her on my way home.”

“She’s hurt?” Steve questions again, his face and eyes full of concern.

“Broken ankle, some gashes and cuts, but she’ll live.”

“You didn’t hurt her, did you?”

Bucky grits his teeth as he narrows his eyes, “I don’t know, maybe. What’s with all the fucking questions?”

Clint slaps him on his arm, smirking all the while, “You know Steve and that bleeding heart of his.”

“She’s our faery, we’re all supposed to take care of her.” Steve says, pushing past Bucky.

“Jesus,” Bucky mumbles, dropping his head into his hands to rub his face, “I’m not in the mood for all of this.”

“When are you ever in the mood?” Sam quips, shaking his head, “Where’s my wife?”

“In my bedroom, tending to our fabulous faery.” Bucky huffs, “Fuck, I just want to sleep. I should have put her in Steve’s room.”

“I wouldn’t talk about your soulmate like that, Barnes. Women don’t like sarcasm.” Sam smiles, wiggling his eyebrows.

“Don’t you start. She’s not my soulmate, she not gonna bring peace or whatever the fuck Wanda is always spouting off about. She’s just another cursed soul, just like the rest of us. Nothing more, nothing less.”

Sam and Clint glance at each other, shaking their heads at the cynical man before them, “Whatever, fuck off. I’m going to sleep.” Bucky grumbles, turning back towards his cottage.

“You can sleep at ours if you want,” Sam calls, “I'll bunk with Steve until the girl is back on her feet.”

“And have that sniffling, whiny little brat of yours waking me up every hour? No thanks.”

He ducks quickly as a rock whizzes by his head, “Don’t talk about my baby boy like that, Barnes!”

Bucky bounds inside his shared home and makes his way towards his bedroom, leaning against the door frame as he listens in on Wanda and Steve. The girl looks better already, the dried blood splattered on random parts of her body gone. Her tattered dress is also gone, replaced by one of Wanda’s hand sewn tunic’s. The deeper of her gashes are sewn together, her feet wrapped in leaves of the bountiful lamb ear.

Her face is soft as she breathes in and out gently. Her hands are crossed over her chest as Wanda crushes up more herbs beside her, smoothing the goop over her flesh wounds. He turns away after a few minutes, as her scent starts to make him dizzy in this confined space. He wonders how Steve can handle being that close.

His heavy feet carry him into the living room, his eyes growing heavier and heavier with each step. He falls onto the old, lumpy hand sewn pillows that sit atop the nicked up couch that Steve fashioned with his bare hands, and grabs the blanket thrown over the back. He covers his entire body and head while burying his face in the cushions as he tries to drown out Wanda and Steve’s hushed voices.

Bucky wakes with a start hours later. A loud pounding noise beats over the roof of the small cottage, making him spring up. He snaps his head towards the front door, finding it wide open. He stands quickly, peeking his head into his room, finding the woman still asleep on his bed but doesn’t find Wanda or Steve. He takes off towards the front door, but stops in his tracks when he realizes what the pounding is.

Rain.

He moves out onto the small porch, finding Steve sitting on the step, “How long has it been raining like this?”

“Hours,” Steve smiles up at him, “Started right after you fell asleep. Do you remember the last time it rained like this?”

Bucky shakes his head. They get showers here and there, just enough to keep the stream and the lake flowing but this? It’s been months since they’ve seen a steady, strong, purposeless rain.

“Wanda had a premonition, a strong one. She had to go lay down.” Steve says gently, not taking his eyes off the rain, “She said this is just the beginning. This is because of her.”

“Steve, come on-”

“There’s not going to be a full moon tonight.” Steve says, cutting him off, “Wanda saw it, Buck.”

Bucky squares his jaw as an irrational anger flushes through him, “That’s not possible.”

“It is. She saw it, Bucky. Wanda is never wrong, you know that. She’s proved it time and time again.”

“I’ve been here for seventy years,” Bucky growls, his tone hard, “I’ve turned every night - every single night there’s a full moon. That’s my affliction, it doesn’t just go away because some woman shows up one day.”

Steve drops his head, shaking it softly. He shrugs after a minute or two, not wanting to pick a fight, “Okay, Buck.”

“I don’t know why you fall for that shit.”

“Maybe because I want to believe in something more, something bigger. I get it,” Steve retorts, “We fucked up in our old lives, but we were given a second chance.”

“A second chance?” Bucky asks incredulously, “You call this a second chance? Bound to a god forsaken forest and having to skulk around like an animal for the rest of eternity?”

Steve hangs his head, but smirks nonetheless, “It’s not that bad.”

“For you,” Bucky reminds him, “Try having your limbs twist and break every night and get back to me about it being a second chance.”

Bucky pushes past him, off of the porch and into the rain. He lets it beat down on him, cleansing him of the anger building inside of his chest before he pushes his hands over his hair, “I’m going for a walk.”

Steve just nods in acknowledgement and returns his gaze towards the gray sky.

You wake up slowly, fluttering your eyes as you stretch out your limbs. You rub your face as you groan slightly, rolling your head into the pillows beneath you. You sit up and let out a yawn before you glance around the unfamiliar room. It’s minimal, a table, a chair in the corner, and a bed. It’s cozy still, even with the scarce decor.

You’ve never felt better in your life. All the aches and pains in your body are gone. There’s no anxiety or fear. Your eyes don’t burn, your throat isn’t dry. You feel so good. You glance down, running your fingers over the hand stitched garment that covers your body. You then graze your fingers over the stitches in your leg, a purple and blue bruise surrounding it, but you feel no pain. You unwrap the leaves around your feet and wiggle your toes before you toss your legs over the side of the bed.

You notice a small bowl of fruit and a homemade mug sitting on the small wooden table next to the bed. You pick up the bowl, popping what looks like a blueberry into your mouth before you moan in satisfaction, closing your eyes as you swallow. You stand, tucking the bowl into your chest and grabbing the mug before you head out of the bedroom. You glance around as you move slowly through the cottage, from room to room, finding it empty. As you pop a strawberry into your mouth, you move out of the second bedroom and back into the living room, where you peek out of the small window.

A steady, hard rain pours from the gray sky. You stand and watch for a few minutes, bringing the mug to your lips and draining the cup of it’s sweet liquid. You sit the now empty cup and bowl down and walk out onto the porch, the defending sound of the rain now unmuted by the walls of the cottage. You reach your hand out, letting the fat drops plop against it as a smile spreads on your face. You’ve always loved the rain.

You close your eyes and take a deep breath, breathing in the earth - the dirt and leaves and grass - letting it fill your lungs as they’re all nurtured by the water. Without thinking, you step off of the small porch, right into the rain, letting it wash over you. Your hair sticks to your head, your thin tunic becomes glued to the curves of your body, accentuating your hips and breasts as you start to walk aimlessly through the quiet, sleepy little community.

You move into a field of tall grass and hold out your hands as you walk slowly, letting the blades graze your palms. You close your eyes again as your head starts to swim and a warmth starts to spread through your body, starting in your toes and moving all the way up to your head. You’re not sure what exactly has happened over the past twenty four hours but, now, with each passing minute, you start to feel like you’re home - almost as if this is what you’ve been searching for your whole life.

“What are you doing?” You jump at the sound of the deep, gruff voice. You pop your eyes open, spinning on your feet to come face to face with a dark haired man. His eyes are a crystal blue, his jaw square, his eyes crinkled in the corners as he squints at you, “You shouldn’t be out here.”

“W-why not?” You ask softly.

“You’re ankle, it’s-” he drops his eyes to your feet, his lips parting as he finds them in perfect condition, “What did you do?”

He moves towards you quickly, scaring you slightly as he lifts the thin material covering your body, “What did you do?” He asks again, his voice irritated, his eyes angry.

“N-nothing. Why do you keep asking me that?”

“Your ankle was broken. Wanda had to give you stitches in that leg.” He points.

You snatch the material of your tunic from his fingers, stepping back, “I still have the stitches,” you rebuff, glancing down at your leg, “See? They’re right -”

Your breath hitches in your throat as you stare at your now healed leg. You shake your head, letting out a breath, “I just… the stitches were there, my leg was bruised, just… just right before I walked out here.”

You look up at the man standing before you, your eyes bouncing wildly between his as he stares back at you. You can’t read his expression, but the wheels in his head are definitely turning as he drops his eyes from yours. He turns his head to the side slightly and stares into the grass as he tries to work something out in his brain.

“Do you know what’s happening to me?” You ask softly as you push your wet hair out of your face.

He turns back to face you as soon as the words leave your lips. His mouth falls open, but no words come out. He just stares at you as the rain beats on him, slipping down his neck and chest and abs before it hits the ground below.

“You haven’t spoken to Wanda?”

“Just a little,” you shrug, swallowing hard as you drop your head to look at your feet, “I didn’t really, um, give her a chance to explain it all. I was... scared.”

You feel his eyes roam over you as you twist the bottom of your tunic in your fingers, “You need to talk to Wanda. She’ll explain it to you.” He answers simply as he turns away.

You watch him as he walks away from you. His shoulders broad, the muscles in his back flexing as he moves. You bite your lip as your eyes fall to his behind, sculpted and hard, and his thighs, thick and sturdy. Your stomach clenches. The rain doesn’t help either - the water droplets cascading down his sinewy body, providing you with quick, fragmented images of your tongue licking each droplet away.

You let out a breath, and then Wanda’s words float back to you again, stronger and louder this time. Bucky, he’s… I promised him you’d come and here you are.

“Are you, um,” you call out to him, “Are you Bucky?”

He stops, rolling his shoulders in irritation, “What about it?”

“You’re what attacked me last night?”

You watch as he drops his head, his back muscles tensing as your question reaches him. He turns to face you, his jaw tight, his eye narrowed, “You’re still breathing aren’t you?”

You glance around nervously, “Well, yeah, I-“

“Then I didn’t attack you, did I?”

You swallow. You’re not sure if it’s just you or if he’s always like this, but he’s trying really hard to intimidate you. It’s working… kind of, “You tried too.” You answer back quietly.

He scoffs at the notion, “If I had tried to attack you, I’d be digesting you right about now. I should’ve, I wouldn’t have to eat for a week. That would be a welcome change.”

You squint your eyes at the unnecessarily rude comment, “You’re an asshole.” You spit back angrily, your brow furrowing, “I’m just trying to-“

“I don’t care what you’re trying to do.” He shouts, “Keep outta my way and I’ll stay out of yours.”

“No problem there, pal.”

“Wonderful, darling.” He sneers, before turning and walking off again.

You scoff hard, crossing your arms over your chest in a huff. You cut your eyes back towards him as he moves through the grass and your stomach tightens again. A warmth spreads through you as your fingers start to itch - wanting to feel him. Your lips part as your breath starts to come a little faster - a little harder - and you’re not even sure why. Something is just drawing you to him.

You don’t understand for the life of you what’s happening in this moment. Maybe it was the berries and fruit, or that drink that was left by the bedside, but you’re warm all over, your head is spinning and you want nothing more than to feel that man inside of you - even now after your tense exchange. Heat rises in your cheeks as your breath starts to rush. You twist the bottom of your tunic harder as you become acutely aware of the ache between your legs. A fire starts to rage in the pit of your stomach - you want him to put it out.

Before you can stop yourself, you're running after him, your feet squishing in the mud as you move. You reach out for him once you’re close, grabbing his shoulder to stop him. He turns quickly, bringing to you a quick halt in front of him. He scrunches his face in utter confusion and maybe a little annoyance as he blinks down at you, “What? What do you want?”

You push up onto your tiptoes and kiss him hard. You moan into him as you rest a hand on his shoulder and push the other into his hair, pulling him closer. He pulls away seconds later, his lips parted and swollen, pure befuddlement playing in his eyes.

You blink back at him as your chest heaves. You open your mouth to speak, but you can’t find the words. Your mind is just - blank. You rest your hands on his shoulders again and drop your eyes to his chest as your fingers start to trace the light scars littered across his otherwise smooth skin. Some are old and white, some deep and purple, some raised, some smooth. They’re all beautiful - they make him beautiful. You drop your hands down to his stomach, just feeling him, his muscles, his masculinity, his strength.

You bite your lip.

You take a deep breath as you feel his arms wrap around you, his hands cupping your ass before he lifts you right off your feet. You stare back into his ice blue eyes as you push your hands into his dark hair again and wrap your legs around his waist. He kisses you - deeply. You accept his tongue into your mouth, letting it massage the roof of your mouth before it slides along yours. You push your chest into his as your lips smack against one another’s, both of your moans rising into the air around you.

The rain is still heavy as he lays you down in the grass. You tug at the wet garment covering your body, pulling it over your head to expose your nakedness to him. You’ve never been this forward in your life, but something is pulling you, filling you with confidence and power and awareness. You want to be one with him, with the earth, with the wind and the rain. You want to connect with everything around you. You let him grope your breast with his large, calloused hand. You let him drag his lips along your neck, his teeth nipping at your sensitive skin.

He pushes your legs open gruffly with his hand as he pulls away from you. You dig your feet into the wet, soft earth, the mud squishing between your toes as you feel his rough fingers sweep through your folds. He rubs at your clit quickly, not really for you, but for him - just to touch you - giving you the feeling that it’s been a while since he’s felt a woman. Pride swells in your chest.

He then leans over, his lips hovering over yours, his fingers gripping the grass. Then - oh, and then - he starts pushing at your opening, breaking into your awaiting cunt. You gasp as your body inhales inch after inch of him until he’s buried to his hilt - his hips flush against yours. You whimper softly as your flesh stretches wider than ever before to hold him. It feels good. You let out the breath that you’ve been holding as Bucky settles into the feeling of you. His eyes flutter as his mouth hangs, the rain dripping off of his brow and the tip of his nose down onto you.

He bucks into you and you grunt, grabbing onto his forearms and digging your nails into his thick skin. He pushes again, and again, and again until he has a succinct, hard rhythm. Your body bounces with each thrust, your pussy gripping him harder and harder with each pass. The sky really opens up then. A flash of lightning streaks across the sky as a crack of thunder rips through the silence. Not that either one phases the two of you.

You lean up and kiss him again, biting down on his lips as he fucks into you. You wrap an arm around his shoulders and neck, hanging on for dear life as you breathe him in - the raw, carnal scent of him filling your lungs. He thrusts into you suddenly, as hard as he can, and then just stays there, pressing against the deepest part of you. Another bolt of lightning slashes through the sky as you cry out - his name falling from your lips - the sound of it tripping off your tongue sending a shiver right down his spine.

Your pussy starts to quiver as he moves again. His hips are quick and swift, his cock pushing, pushing, pushing until you’re writhing underneath him. Tears sting your eyes as the intensity of the past twenty four hours rolls through your body. Every synapse within you fires as the warm tears start to slip out of the corners of your eyes, the hard rain sweeping them away.

You cry out again as a sharp pain travels through you, your sensitive nipple now between Bucky’s teeth. Thunder claps again. You push your chest into his wet mouth as his tongue swirls around your skin. He bites down again and your hips jerk up into his as you roll your head in the mud. You run your hands up and down his arms, gripping and groping as his weight pins you to the ground. You’re almost certain that as he drills his hips into yours, he’ll push you right into the ground, straight down to the earth’s core.

The orgasm that’s been laying in wait, deep inside of your belly, starts to ripple through you. The sparks start to fly, soft as first but within minutes, the embers are now a full blown fire. You screech and wail as your body tenses and curls into his. The rain gets harder, the lightning spidering through the clouds, the thunder so loud it could burst your eardrums. Another push of his hips and you let out a long, deep growl as your release is finally set free.

The air whips up around you as you come undone beneath him, shaking the leaves of the trees and the blades of grass. His hips still crash into yours as you claw at his back with your fingernails, but they grow more desperate as the seconds pass. A moan rumbles through his chest, then his breathing hitches - his eyes slam shut. You tense, squeezing your slick pussy around his cock as he starts to spill his seed. You want it all, every last drop - not an ounce to be wasted.

You grab his face in your hands and press your forehead into his as you both ride out the waves of your orgasms. The warmth of his thick cum spreads through you as his hips jerk and his body shudders. His body slides against yours until he is totally spent, collapsing on top of you when he just can’t hold himself up any longer. You cradle his head with your hands as he tucks into the crook of your neck. You push your fingers through his wet, dark tresses, massaging his scalp slowly as you stare up into the sky.

The rain slows - it’s still steady, but calmer than before. The lightning and thunder disappears, the wind dies away. You and Bucky stay connected as you drag your fingers up and down his spine. He leans back after a few minutes pass, and stares down at you, his eyes roaming your face as he tries and fails to figure you out.

“Who are you?” He asks softly, slowly realizing the power you hold.

You breathe gently as you blink back at him, “I don’t know.”

You throw your head back as you pant loudly. Your hips roll against Bucky’s as you ride him on top of his bed. You lean forward slightly, pressing your palms into his broad chest, your fingers digging into his flesh. His strong hands are around your hips, helping you move, pushing you forward and then backwards, and then forwards again.

A bead of sweat slips between your breasts but his tongue captures it before it can delve any further. He falls back onto the thin mattress that holds the two of you and lets his hands fall to your thighs, “God,” he pushes out between clenched teeth, “S’fuckin’ good, girl.”

You start to bounce on top of him, pushing more of your weight into the center of his chest. His hands leave your hips to grip your bouncing tits, massaging them hard before he takes each of your nipples between his rough fingers. He slips his hands around to your back, groping your flesh quickly before he grabs your long locs to pull them gently. You groan as a slight pain prickles at your scalp, but smile as you push your hands up to cup your breasts.

The rain picks up outside again as the familiar pull of an orgasm starts to tickle your insides. You work your hips, up and down, up and down, up and down on his cock until you’re quaking. Your clit jumps with convulsions as you come, your thin fingers stroking the aching flesh to exacerbate the feeling. Bucky isn’t far behind, just like the other four times the two of you have made love throughout the day and evening.

He hisses and grunts as he lifts his hips into yours, fucking up into you as his spunk fills you to the brim before it slips back out and down his shaft. The thunder outside cracks again as you fuck him for all he’s worth, until you literally can’t sit up any longer. You fall onto his chest, your breath heavy and hard as you nuzzle into him. Your skin sticks to his as humidity fills the room but you hum happily.

You start to trace the scars on his chest with your index finger, your eyes growing heavy. You still don’t know what is drawing you to this man. One minute, you’re both seething with anger directed at one another, the next, you’re making love like it’s your last hours on earth. With each passing moment, you feel him seeping into your heart - your soul - and you don’t even know him. All you know is that you don’t ever want to leave this bed again.

“I have a question.” You whisper after several minutes.

“What’s that?” He slurs, half asleep.

“How long have you been here?”

He wraps his arms around your waist, holding your body tight to his, “Too long.”

“How long?” You press.

“Seventy years,” he says, letting out a breath, “Give or take a year or two. Go to sleep.”

You giggle but close your eyes anyway, “You’re a jerk, you know that?”

“I’ve heard that a time or two. Now shut up, I mean it.”

“Steve said that I was already claimed. What does that mean?”

“You’ve asked your question, girl.”

“Come on,” you whine, “Please?”

He sighs heavily, turning his head into the pillow, keeping his eyes closed, “There’s evil out there in the woods. Not everybody is as nice as us.”

You sit up, flattening your palm to his chest as you blink at the side of his face, “Rumlow? He’s evil?”

“You saw Rumlow? When?” He asks, popping his eyes open as he turns to face you.

“Yesterday, when Steve found me.”

Bucky lets out another breath, his eyes calming, “He’s evil. It’s a good thing he didn’t find you first.” He reaches towards you, sliding his hand along your face before he cups your chin, “Now, I’m going to put you out if you don’t go to sleep.”

You smile softly and lay back down on his chest, nuzzling into him, “Sheesh, okay grumpy.”

He tightens his grip around your waist and just as you are slipping between consciousness and sleep, you swear you feel his lips on your forehead and hear a faint goodnight, girl.

Bucky sits straight up as a jolt of fear flashes through him. He snaps his head towards the window as the sun peaks in behind the thin, white curtains that cover it. Daytime. It’s daytime and he’s still in his bed. How in the -

Something shifts beside him and he jerks again, letting out a breath as an arm slinks over his chest. He eyes the small woman next to him, her leg slung over both of his, her face nuzzled into his bicep as she drags in deep, calm breaths. The previous day’s events flash through his mind - his lips on hers, her nails dug into his skin, her sweet gasps as he plunged into her over and over and over again.

She’s coming Bucky, I can feel it. She’ll fix this place and she’ll love you forever, plus a day.

Wanda’s words play back through his mind. He huffs, letting out a breath before he lowers his head to his hands and rubs his face. He turns his head and peeks over at the sleeping woman next to him. It’s been a long time since he’s woken up to such a sight. Warm brown skin, long locs spidering across the stark white sheets, a gentle, soft face… it takes him back to the 40s. How it felt to wake up next to his girl everyday. God, he wonders where she is now, if she’s even still alive.

He blinks and reaches out slowly, placing his palm flat on her back. He watches as it rises and falls with each steady breath before he sweeps his fingers across her smooth skin. He cups the side of her face and rubs his thumb across her cheek… it’s been a long time… and it feels nice. She feels nice.

Movement outside of his door grabs his attention and then a soft knock spreads through the room. Steve pokes his head in, smiling softly as he eyes the sleeping girl.

“This is not what it looks like.” Bucky mumbles, rubbing his face again.

“Of course it isn’t,” Steve shrugs, “Wanda’s here for you.”

“Wonderful,” Bucky titters, “Give me a minute.”

When Steve disappears, Bucky turns back towards the sleeping body next to him. He dips down and places his lips to her forehead, and then the side of her face, and then on the tip of her nose before he sits up straight. He watches as she smiles in her sleep, before she hums softly. He smiles back. He throws his feet over the edge of the bed and stands - what the fuck is happening to him? He couldn’t stand her twelve hours ago.

“Wanda,” he starts as he moves into the living room, shutting his door, “What brings you here so early?”

She smirks, tossing her red hair over her shoulder as Steve hands her a mug, “You know why I’m here.”

“Do I?” He asks sarcastically - smirking as she levels a slap to his arm.

“How is she?”

“Who?”

“Goddamn you, Barnes!” She laughs.

“She’s fine,” he shrugs, “Still sleeping.”

“With you?”

Bucky sends his eyes towards her, squinting them just a bit as she smiles back at him. Steve hands him a mug seconds later, which he accepts and sips before he answers, “Nosy ass.”

“You are awfully nonchalant about this whole thing,” Steve pipes up, “It rained like hell all day and well into the night, and then, more importantly, you didn’t turn. No full moon, and all we get from you is your usual sarcasm.”

Bucky shrugs, “Yeah, that was nice.”

“That was nice?” Steve scoffs, “That’s all you have to say?”

“What do you want me to say?” Bucky laughs lightly, “Okay, yes, some weird shit is going on, alright? I don’t have an answer for you.”

“It’s not weird, it’s her.” Wanda says, sending her eyes to his closed door, “She is powerful.”

Bucky rubs his face again, his brain turning, “It still doesn’t make any sense. You have to be cursed to end up here, right? So how does she have all of this power? Where is it coming from? Who fucking decides?”

“If I’ve told you once, I’ve told you a thousand times,” Wanda says, tilting her head, “We may have been cursed, but even here, in this place, we all still have a destiny to fulfill. We were meant to adapt and survive for some reason or another. Our afflictions have shown that.”

Bucky casts his eyes to his feet as he runs his hand through his hair. He doesn’t want to bring up that within twenty four hours, her broken ankle is completely healed. That not one scratch is present on her body. That every time she came in his arms, the wind and the rain got stronger and harder. If he does, it’s real. Everything Wanda’s been telling them for years is actually coming true - and he’s found the love of his life.

“What is it? What happened?” Wanda asks, eyeing him quietly, “What are you thinking?”

Bucky clicks his tongue, throwing her a look, “Nothing, damn.”

“James Buchanan Barnes, so help me!”

He rolls his eyes, “She’s… her ankle, you remember? It was broken, clearly.”

“I remember.”

“Well, it’s not, now,” he says slowly, shifting his eyes around the room, “It wasn’t yesterday when she was roaming around outside.” He snaps his eyes to Wanda when she gasps and covers her mouth with her fingers, “The gash on her leg, her feet, they’re all healed up. It’s like nothing even happened to her.”

Wanda’s eyes go wide as she glances off into space, her mind racing. She opens her mouth to speak, but a loud knock at the front door interrupts her, “Babe,” Sam starts as he pops his head inside, “You gotta come look at this.”

The three of them follow the excited Sam as he pulls them down towards the lake. The waterfall rushes with intensity, the water level of the lake higher than they’ve ever seen it. They rush up the hill just to the side of the lake and waterfall to the connecting stream above and stop in their tracks as they push through the trees.

Fish, all sizes and colors, leap from the water and then dive back in as they swim along. Natasha pops her head up out of the water, her green-blue tail swishing behind her, “Do you see this?” She laughs, “This is incredible! We haven’t had fish like this in God only knows how long.”

“When did this start?” Bucky asks.

“Last night, but it was just a few. Carol and I just thought a few got separated from their school, but we woke up this morning to all of this.”

The water starts to ripple upstream as something cuts through it with ease. Once the shadow underneath reaches them, it circles Natasha before it bobs up in the water, Carol’s blue eyes and warm smile falling onto the group, “Go check the orchards. I’ve never seen them like this.”

Apples, oranges, peaches, and lemons scatter the ground as Bucky, Sam, Wanda, and Steve move through the trees. They haven’t yielded in months and now they are so full, they can’t even hold their production. Wanda’s eyes fill with tears as she reaches towards a blueberry bush, plucking off a single berry. Sam wraps her up in his arms, kissing the side of her face as she smiles up at him through the emotion, “She’s going to save us, Sam. We’re going to be okay.”

“I never lost faith, baby.” He whispers, swaying her gently back and forth, “Never for a minute.”

Steve picks a bright red apple from the sprawling tree above him and brings it to his mouth, sinking his teeth into it. He closes his eyes and hums in appreciation as the sweet taste explodes against his taste buds.

Bucky wipes at the corners of his mouth, wiping away the juices from the plumb he’s just inhaled. Wanda was right. He should have never doubted her.

“Is everything okay?” A soft voice sounds behind them, making them all turn. You stand a few feet away, worry written all over your face, the bottom of your tunic bunched in your hand, “I woke up and everybody was gone.”

You cut your eyes to Bucky as he plucks a handful of blueberries from a small bush. He walks towards you, stepping right up to you before he brings one of the berries to your lips. Your eyes bounce back and forth between his, searching for an answer that you’re not sure he has. You’re almost shocked when he smiles back at you. You open your mouth and accept the small piece of fruit, chewing slowly before you swallow.

“Everything’s okay.” He answers, kissing your lips quickly - softly, “We’ll take care of you. I’ll take care of you.”

You turn your head towards Wanda as she advances, placing her hands on your shoulder, a smile on her face, “Come, baby. I have much to tell you about your journey.”

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kalee60 · 4 years

Text

Title: The only hope for me is you

Creator: Kalee60

Card Number (Stucky Bingo): 04

Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26559589/chapters/64746616

Square filled (Stucky Bingo): B1 - Looking after each other

Rating: E

Archive Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply

Major Tags/Triggers/Warnings: Alternate Universe - Post Apocalypse, canon typical violence, Explicit Sexual Content, Mutual Pining, Hurt/comfort

Summary: Steve Rogers led a quiet life on a farm with his dog, Cap, a few animals and his greenhouse full of plants. In a world torn apart by humanity's past mistakes, remaking itself the best it could, solitude was simpler, if not a little lonely. It was safer.

But then he finds a broken and bloody man, half dead and abandoned before the biggest cluster storm of the year, and he has no choice but to take him home and tend his wounds.

Who was this mystery man shrouded in secrets, and why was Steve so drawn to him and his story?

When two strangers come together in a world full of uncertainty and change, both seeking comfort, both seeking meaning, would it all end in disaster or could they just maybe be each other's salvation?

Word Count: 4196 (Chapter 1 of 10)

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

BBB information:

Bucky Barnes Bingo Square Filled: Y2: Kill list

Ship/Main Pairing: Bucky/Steve

Rating: E

For @buckybarnesbingo & @stuckybingo2020

#buckybarnesbingo2020 #stuckybingo2020 #mywriting #stucky #Steve x Bucky #post apocalypse #NO zombies #it's a whole new world (no Aladdin either)#hurt comfort #recovering Bucky Barnes #falling in love #Steve is a clam #kalees au extravaganza

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riotwritesthings · 3 years

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Sing me a song about you

Title: Sing me a song about you Collaborator Name: Riot @buckybarnesbingo Square Filled: C5, kink: non-penetrative @starkbucksbingo Square Filled: I5, AU: Rockstar @tonystarkbingo (card 4052) Square Filled: A3, Freespace Ship/Main Pairing: WinterIron Rating: M Major Tags & Triggers: musician Bucky, grad student Tony, a meet-cute and a back alley handjob Summary: Bucky doesn’t usually notice much about the crowd while he’s on stage, instead just losing himself in the music. Tonight is different though. Word Count: 915

With moodboard made by the wonderful @crownofstardustandbone!

From pretty much the first second Bucky steps onto the stage of the tiny, rundown venue, he can't stop noticing the guy in the corner booth.

He looks a little young to be in a bar, but the books and papers spread across the entire table scream grad student. His fluffy hair looks perfect for running fingers through, and he chews on his lip while he scribbles nearly frantically in his notebook.

Bucky may almost fall off the tiny stage, once or twice over the course of the show, he’s so busy staring. He also might run into Steve a couple times.

At least he doesn’t have to worry about the cute guy noticing his sudden lack of grace, Bucky is pretty sure he doesn’t once looked up from his book the entire night.

Bucky is sitting at the bar for the band’s usual post-show drink, working up the nerve to actually do something about it, when Steve elbows him in the ribs.

“Are you actually going to go talk to him, or just stare like a creeper all night?” Steve asks,one eyebrow raised pointedly.

“I’m working on it,” Bucky grumbles, but it takes Steve elbowing him again before he downs the rest of his beer and pushes away from the bar.

"Why's he so twitchy?" Sam asks, shooting a look over at where Bucky is pacing in sporadic circles around the backstage area, chain smoking and running his hands through his hair until it nearly stands on end.

Steve glances up from his guitar, then smirks widely as he says "He invited Tony."

Sam looks confused for a second, and then his nose wrinkles a little as he asks "The kid who did homework through our whole set last week?"

"He's so smart, Sam!" Bucky screams and then nearly trips over an amp when he looks up from his nervous pacing for too long and fails to dodge the equipment scattered everywhere.

"You've mentioned that, buddy!" Steve calls back, and then mimes gagging.

Tony sits at the same table, in the back corner, and he doesn't bring homework this time.Bucky can feel his eyes on him the entire show.

When he gets off stage Tony has a wide smile on his face and an extra beer on the table in front of him, obviously waiting for Bucky.

“I like the way you didn’t almost fall off the stage this time,” Tony says in greeting, eyes bright and teasing.

“I didn’t think you saw that,” Bucky groans miserably as he drops into the booth across from Tony, cheeks warming.

“Oh I definitely did, and I am never letting it go,” Tony says with a soft laugh, and Bucky finds that he really doesn’t mind.

They end up in the alley behind the bar, making out and pawing at each other furiously.

Bucky knows, in the back of his mind, that this alley is disgusting. He complains about it every time they unload or reload their gear from the van, but right now all he knows is Tony.

Tony’s fingers against his jaw, tangling in his hair, Tony’s lips soft and warm against his and the way he opens so sweet when Bucky kisses him harder.

The way Tony whines softly when Bucky presses in closer, hitches him up a little higher against the wall, and the way it forces an answering groan out of Bucky’s chest when one of Tony’s legs wraps up around his hip.

Tony is the one who practically tears their pants open, hands clumsy and nearly shaking with desperation in the minimal space between their bodies, and Bucky groans softly in relief as his cock is freed from the tight denim. He takes them both in hand and swallows the noise that bursts out of Tony’s throat, jerks them both off quick and messy while Tony claws at him and rocks into his grip, moans and gasps against his lips.

When Tony comes he tosses his head back against the rough brick with a shaking cry, his hair a mess and fingers digging into Bucky’s shoulders through his jacket while Bucky bites at the curve of his jaw. Tony tugs him into a kiss and Bucky ruts against him harder, growls his way through his own orgasm until he’s left panting weakly.

When Bucky slumps against him Tony just laughs and presses his fingers into Bucky’s hair, pulls him into another kiss that’s lazy and sweet.

They break apart slowly, still pressed in close and sharing the same air as the chill of the night slowly starts sinking into the warm little bubble they've created for themselves.

"Well, should we go finish our beer?" Tony asks with a crooked little grin, and Bucky huffs out a soft laugh at the mention of the half-full mugs still sitting abandoned on the table.

Then he looks down at the mess of their cum slowly cooling on his hand, and their pants, and his shirt, and then fixes Tony with a flat look.

“Or, my place isn’t far,” Tony suggests, a hopeful light in his eyes.

Bucky spares a brief thought for how pissed the rest of the band will be if he just bails, and quickly decides that it's more than worth it.

"Lead the way," Bucky says, and Tony smiles, and yeah, totally worth it. Even if he just knows he's going to end up loading and unloading the van by himself for the next several shows.

#my fic #winteriron #tsbmiv #buckybarnesbingo2020 #Starkbucksbingo2020 #Bbb2020 #sbb2020

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suitofvibraniumarmor · 3 years

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Light in the Dark

Summary: Avoiding Bucky seemed to be the thing to do after the two of you broke up, until a mission gone wrong shows you how much you have to lose. Pairing; Bucky x Reader Word Count: 2415 Warnings: Language, angst, canon typical gun violence, GSW, blood. Square Filled: Post-Breakup AU for @marvelfluffbingo. Square Filled: Second gif within the fic (Y2) for @buckybarnesbingo. [Rating: Teen/Mature] A/N: I feel like I maybe ended another fic with a similar line? Anyway, don’t call me out, ha. Happy Reading!

GIF Source

“So, ending it. That’s what you want?”

Tears were brimming in her eyes and the lump in her throat stopped her from answering Bucky’s question. She sniffed, hoping it would stop her emotions from falling down her cheeks. One blink though, and she was betrayed.

“It’s not what I want, Buck.” Her tone was bordering on pleading. “But you and I don’t want the same things. I want to move forward, you want to stay stuck. You won’t open up to me, you haven’t touched me in weeks — and I’m not even talking about sex. You won’t hold my hand, won’t stand within two feet of me.”

He pressed his lips to a thin line and sighed. He started with a measured tone, partial words stumbling out until he got so frustrated at his inability to form a sentence, he let out a loud growl and pounded on the table nearby.

“You don’t get it! All right? You don’t know the things that are still in my head, you don’t know how much fear I live in, every mother fucking day, that I’m going to lose it and hurt you.” He squeezed his eyes shut, raking a vibranium hand through his hair. “This is more than you can handle, Y/N. There are days when — when I don’t wanna talk and you think things are worse than ever. That’s not always the case. Some days I just need the quiet. Everything in my head is so loud — that’s not the point. The point is, I’m not good for you.”

Her tears came to an abrupt stop. “Are you fucking kidding me? You think I don’t have demons of my own? You think the things that I have done, the lives I have taken, don’t haunt me in my sleep? At every waking moment? I see their faces, every time I close my eyes. You are not the only one with blood on your hands, Bucky Barnes.” She stood and clenched her fists at her sides. “If you think that I’m one of those agents who was bred into this because my parents were in the first wave of S.H.I.E.L.D agents, who can handle all of this and then sleep at night like it’s nothing, you don’t know me at all.”

She stepped up to him and took his face in her hands before kissing him softly. She wiped her taste away with her thumb before taking a step back.

“Goodbye, Bucky.”

For weeks after the split, they avoided each other at all costs. If she rounded a corner and saw Bucky coming her way, she backtracked and took the long way around. If Bucky was headed to the common room but heard her singing along to the radio before he made it there, he turned on his heel and got what he needed elsewhere. Every now and then, he could bribe someone into getting what he needed, but the whole crew was running thin on that arrangement.

“You could talk to her, you know,” Sam suggested.

Steve nodded his agreement. “At least work out a schedule of who can be where and when. That’s the dumbest shit I’ve ever heard, but hey, at least then you two can have a more normal life and the rest of us can stop making money off of your awkward situation. Besides, it’s been … how long has it been? Surely long enough for you two to be adults about the situation.”

Bucky rolled his eyes. “If she wanted to talk to me, she’d come to me and say what she needed to say.”

Nat came into the room and sighed. “Not necessarily, Barnes. I’ve talked to Y/N about it and she doesn’t want to be in your way anymore than you want to be in hers. To be honest, I’m not so sure that this break-up is really worth the trouble when the two of you could just talk it out and work through your problems.”

“We wanted different things,” Bucky mumbled, “and that hasn’t changed. What I want hasn’t changed.”

Nat rolled her eyes. “Her. You want her, stupid. The rest of it is called compromise. You should look it up sometime. Y/N can stop moping around, you can come back from the dim place. Everyone can be back to their normal lives.”

“The dim place?” Sam repeated.

“Yeah, you know. Not the dark place. He’s been in the dark place. This sucks but it’s not as bad as the dark place.”

“Makes sense,” Steve commented; Bucky looked to him for confirmation that his best friend agreed with Nat. “Hey, it’s not bad advice. I mean, she's also the one who told me to ask out the chick in accounting with a lip piercing.”

Nat punched Steve playfully in the shoulder. “Hey, she was nice!”

They all laughed about the idea of a freshly-thawed Steve dating a girl with a lip piercing; Bucky had to admit, it was nice to have the attention off of him and Y/N and on to a different subject.

Attention rescue team; emergency extraction call received. Departure in three minutes and counting. Rescue team; extraction mission imminent. Three minutes and counting.

FRIDAY’s voice pulled most of them from a steady — or not-so-steady — sleep and into action mode. A team raced for the quinjet, in uniform and ready for a debriefing as the jet took off.

“Secretary of State was abducted by a Russian militia organization. Our job is to go in, extract, get him home. I’m waiting now for reports on what kind of arms they have on the ground,” Tony informed as he set their destination into the navigation system.

Y/N buckled in and let out a deep breath. Flying was something she was getting more used to, but she did better when she knew the flight was coming. Several minutes into the flight, her tension was redirected from a few bumps of turbulence to the unexpected hand on her shoulder.

“You doing okay?” Bucky asked.

She pulled her shoulder from his touch. “Yeah, fine. I’m always fine.”

He smirked just a little. "I know you are, but the flying …”

“I’m great, Sergeant Barnes. Just peachy.”

Bucky pressed his lips into a thin line and he sat back in his seat. Y/N kept her eyes forward, her expression stoic, even as Tony took the jet higher. Her jaw was clenched though, giving away her nerves. Bucky decided the best thing to do would be to keep an eye on her; be supportive from a distance.

The mission started out well enough. They located the Secretary easily — too easily, really. Nat, Wanda, and Clint went ahead of the group to keep the path clear back to the quinjet; Tony and Rhodey were on either side of the Secretary; Y/N and Steve were right behind him; Bucky brought up the rear.

No one was quite sure where the first shots came from. The Secretary groaned and grabbed for his left shoulder as more bullets whizzed past the group. Tony and Rhodes took one arm each and flew him back to the quinjet while the rest of them went on the defensive.

Y/N was taking a mental head count of everyone running in front of her; Nat, Wanda, Clint, Steve — check all. Where was Bucky? Emotions took over and she spoke into the comm.

“Barnes, send back.” When no answer came, she stopped in her tracks. “Barnes! Send back!”

Still no answer. Her eyes met Steve’s for a brief second before she was turning and running the other direction, away from the rest of them. Steve was yelling behind her but she wasn’t about to stop and wait for whatever it is he had to say. As she got back to where the shooting had started, she started calling Bucky’s name. Her heart raced with frantic emotion at the million possibilities that could be keeping Bucky behind.

A Russian militiaman was positioned over Bucky, fists flying. Bright red blood pooled under Bucky’s thighs and spurting with each heartbeat made Y/N panic that his wounds were fatal as is, without a beating on top of it. A feral yell rumbled from deep in her chest as she rushed the other man, knocking him away from Bucky and tackling him to the ground.

Her own fists were flying now, lashing out at the man who might dare to take Bucky away from her. Somewhere in her mind, Y/N knew that getting Bucky medical attention needed to be a priority, but she couldn’t stop her anger from taking control at that moment.

“Y/N, hey, come on! Enough!” Steve yelled, finally catching up to her. He pulled her away from the Russian, who had gone unconscious at some point. His face was bloody and mangled, but his own people would have to take care of him.

Steve assessed Bucky’s other injuries while Y/N used her belt as a tourniquet around his leg. Between the two of them, they managed to get him back to the quinjet without much more incident; the second the were on board, Tony raised the bridge and took off.

“What happened?” Nat questioned, helping to get Bucky laying down. She grabbed for a first aid kid and found some gauze to place over the bullet wound while Y/N threw her gloves off and took his face in her hands.

“Bucky! Can you hear me? Look at me, Buck! You stay with us, all right? We’re going to get you back, they’re going to take care of you. But you have to fight too, you have to stay with me,” she pleaded, tears filling her eyes when his eyes met hers. “Please, Bucky. You can’t leave me like this, okay? We’ve got too many days of awkward interactions ahead of us.”

Bucky’s mouth pulled into a weak smirk as his cold, shaky hand came up to her cheek. Y/N leaned into it, still pleading quietly with him not to leave her like this.

“Everything’s okay,” Bucky whispered, only a couple of seconds before his eyes closed and his hand fell away from her face.

Hours passed in agony as you waited outside the medical bay for any updates on Bucky’s health. She didn’t change out of her uniform, didn’t bother to get cleaned up, only followed his gurney as far as they would let her go. After that, she found a chair and fell into it, determined not to move until she had some concrete information.

“Here,” Nat said, nudging her with an elbow. “Water and coffee. I’ll bring you food when you can stomach it.”

Y/N took the water bottle first, downed half of it, then set it aside and sipped at the coffee. She probably did need to eat, but the very idea of food make her stomach churn. Nat stayed but didn’t speak. Y/N waited a full minute before she broke the silence.

“He was trying.”

Nat frowned. “Bucky?”

Y/N nodded. “On the quinjet. He knew I was going to be anxious about the flight and he asked if I was okay. I blew him off. I didn’t want his sympathy because I’m still so mad at him. How could he think that I was — that I couldn’t understand where he was coming from? Maybe not to the extent that it was happening, but I’m not innocent, Nat.” She scoffed. “And how could I not be more understanding? How could I walk away from him and not show him how much I love him. How much I need him.”

“You need each other,” Nat offered.

“Yeah. I think you’re right.”

She sat silently with Nat for the next several hours. There was still no word, and no one would let them into the medical bay. Nat had finally convinced Y/N that she needed to shower when Dr. Cho came out to update them. Y/N bumped into Nat, she turned around so fast after hearing her name being called.

Helen drew in a deep breath. “Bullet nicked his femoral artery, but fortunately, I think his advanced healing process saved his life. We did the rest of the surgical repairs and I believe if he can pull through the next couple of days, he should be in the clear.”

Both Nat and Y/N breathed a sigh of relief. The women hugged briefly before Y/N asked if she could see him.

Helen smiled. “Of course; he’s been asking for you. We wanted to give him time to pull it together after the surgery.”

But Y/N only the first of Helen’s sentence. She raced into the medical bay, stopping once to ask which room Bucky was in. When she got there, she was nearly breathless.

“Wondered if you were gonna come see me,” Bucky mumbled, giving her as much of a smile as he could manage.

She stood next to his bed and took his vibranium hand. “Bucky, I’m so sorry …”

“Hey, you’re not the one who shot me.”

“Don’t joke,” Y/N scolded. “You know what I mean. I shouldn’t have walked away, shouldn’t have brushed you off in the jet. What if you hadn’t made it?”

Bucky squeezed her hand. "Hey, c’mon, sweetheart. I’m all right. I’ve been through worse than this.”

“But not with me so mad at you,” she whispered. “I don't want to do this anymore, Buck. I don't care how much we fight or how much we push each other away. I don't want to have the horrendously gigantic cloud lingering over me that one of us could die and you wouldn't know how much I love you.”

Bucky reached up to caress her cheek; this time, his hand was warm, steady. “I can't promise to give you everything you want right away. I still am who I am, Y/N. But I sure as hell can try.”

She leaned over to place a soft kiss on his lips. “Who you are is exactly who I fell in love with. Trying is all I ask.”

He pulled her in for another kiss. There would be plenty more to be discussed, when Bucky was fully on the mend and ready for it. The fights would come, the darker days would come. As long as neither of them gave up on each other, though, there would always be a light in the darkness.

AllOfTheThings: @captain-s-rogers @star-spangled-man-with-a-plan @letsgetfuckingsuperwholocked @hurricanerin @horsesandbandsforlife @im-not-an-armrest-im-short @shynara51 @sea040561 @pinknerdpanda @xtina2191 @gifted-burnout @beakami @heartsaved @fullprunerebelstatesman @blackwidowismyhomegirl @averyrogers83 @jennmurawski13 @connie326 @disastersoldierbucky

Buckvember (Not already included in AotT): @peace-love-hobbitness @rebekahdawkins @wonder-cole

#marvelfluffbingo2020 #buckybarnesbingo2020 #bucky barnes #bucky x reader #bucky barnes x reader #buckvember #buckvember queue

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ibelieveinturtles · 3 years

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The Odd Collection

Title: The Odd Collection

Collaborator(s): ibelieveinturtles

Square (letter, number, and prompt):

Sam Wilson Bingo - G3: Bookshop Au

Bucky Barnes Bingo - Y2: Image of Bucky looking down to the side

Pairing/Main Ship: Sam Wilson & Bucky Barnes

Rating: G

Major tags: bookshop au, probably no powers au

Warnings/Triggers: none

Summary: Bucky hadn't intended to spend so much in the secondhand bookshop near his sister's house but he'd forgotten to buy his nibling a birthday present. And then he remembered an article he'd read about cooking as therapy.

Sam's favourite thing about owning a secondhand bookshop was seeing what people vought, although he rarely saw a collection quite as odd as this but when the guy explained he couldn't resist offering a suggestion of his own.

Word Count: n/a

@samwilsonbingo @buckybarnesbingo

#bucky barnes #sam wilson #buckybarnesbingo2020 #samwilsonbingo #bookshop au #ice cream #pie #french fries #odd collection #cowboy/western #cookbooks #childrens books

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abitnotgoodiebag · 3 years

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Title: ...God, I hate you

Square: Y5 - yoga

Pairing/Main Ship: SamBucky

Rating: Teen

Warnings/Triggers: explicit language

Summary: Bucky would really just like 20 minutes. Is 20 minutes too much to ask? (In Sam Wilson’s house it is definitely too much to ask)

For @buckybarnesbingo

#fanart #sambucky #winterfalcon #buckybarnesbingo2020 #bbb2020 #Sam is like nah you’re not getting a single second of peace because nooooppe #get this dance #get these vocals #Wakanda vacation part the second coming soon

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whoisnivelle · 4 years

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for the @buckybarnesbingo

Title: Going on vacation (for the first time in a hundred years)

Square: "That wasn't nice" (Y1)

Artist: Nivelle

Main Pair: Bucky Barnes/Steve Rogers

Rating: G

Warnings: none

Summary: Bucky makes Steve go on vacation with him and Sam and does everything he can think of to make him relax and have fun (Steve doesn't think being lifted up and thrown into the water is nice. At all.)

#buckybarnesbingo2020 #stucky #bucky barnes #steve rogers #marvel fanart #my art #nivellesart #experiment

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buckybarnesbingo · 3 years

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BBB 2020 Masterpost

Here is the collection of all the masterposts! All the works created by each of these participants is linked on their individual masterposts.

You wanna know something AMAZING?! We had more than 850 fills made this round of the BBB!!! BLOWN AWAY is a great way to describe this mod’s reaction to it. It has been fantastic to see so much Bucky love out there, coming from so many fabulous people!

Now go peruse these lists to find what you missed, and don’t forget to give these creators some love!

27dragons

abitnotgoodiebag

alwaysabrighterdarkness

ariasfandom / AriaGrill

blurockets / Pyrone

buckybarnesdeservestobehappy

caiti-creative-corner

crazycatt71

darter-blue

dreaminglypeach / eachpeachpearplum

Elle / hawkeyeandthewintersoldier

fightingforcreativity / J_Gun_i

Ginger / your-ginger-angel

hddnone

HeyBoy / heyboydraws

ialwayscomewhenyoucall / LiraelClayr007

iamartemisday

ibelieveinturtles

jurassicworjd / samandbucky

kalee60

ladydarkphoenix

LLightz / liquidlightz

lbibliophile-mcu

Menatiera

Minka

newtypeshadow

nightwideopen

omgaflockofbirdsthings

pherryt

phoenixgryphon

Politzania / polizwrites

psychiccatpanda / Faustess

Purple_ducky00 / jamesbuckystark

rebelmeg

riotwritesthings / riotfalling

seibelsays

sierranovembr

somesortofitalianroast

starjargon

startrekkingaroundasgard

TiBun / fanbinbun

writing-mermaid

writing-what-writing / BookDragon13

#buckybarnesbingo2020 #bbb2020 #masterpost #bbb masterpost

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rebelmeg · 3 years

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Someday I will have the time to finish the fic that goes with this moodboard... but until then, you’ll have to settle for this fill for a @buckybarnesbingo square intead.

Title: Bean There, Brew That moodboard Collaborator: rebelmeg Square Filled: Y5 - AU: coffee shop Ship: none Rating: Gen Major Tags: moodboard, coffee shop AU Summary: Clint owns a coffee shop made entirely of puns, and leaves Darcy in charge when he takes a vacation. The shop gets a new regular (clearly some kind of hobo/assassin) that likes to purr at his coffee. With a pack of snarky baristas and a whole lot of sugar, Bucky finds himself living just a little bit more.

#rebelmeg's stuff #moodboard #buckybarnesbingo2020 #bbb2020 #bucky barnes #clint barton #darcy lewis #mcu teen squad #coffeeshop au #mcu

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27dragons · 3 years

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Wrapped Up With a Bow

a fic by @27dragons for the @buckybarnesbingo and @starkbucksbingo

Title: Wrapped Up With a Bow Square: Starkbucks Bingo: N1 - AU: Dealer's Choice Bucky Barnes Bingo: B5 - Red String of Fate Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28393791 Rating: T Warnings: None Ship: Winteriron Wordcount: 200 Summary: It wasn’t possible to see anyone else’s red string. Tony’s had been invisible for most of his life, popping into existence every so often for a few days before fading away again.

“Sir,” JARVIS said urgently, and the television switched itself on.

Tony turned to see some kind of pitched battle happening on -- was that a helicarrier? One of the ones Tony had helped outfit with repulsor engines?

“Try and stabilize the shakycam there, would you?” Tony tossed his wrench aside and walked closer to the screen.

Holy shit, that was Cap, squaring off against some guy in black who actually seemed to be holding his own. Bad guys were so unimaginative. At least this guy had some kind of gauntlet, shiny and chrome right up to the shoulder.

“Zoom in on that action,” Tony ordered, “and prep the suit. It looks like--”

And then Tony forgot to breathe. Cap’s opponent was half-tangled in red string.

Just to be sure-- “JARVIS, you see anything weird about that blackhat?”

“He appears to be enhanced, but I detect no other anomalies.”

It wasn’t possible to see anyone else’s red string. Tony’s had been invisible for most of his life, popping into existence every so often for a few days before fading away again.

But there it was, unmistakably, for Tony’s eyes only.

Red. String.

Which meant Tony’s soulmate... was one of the bad guys?

#buckybarnesbingo2020 #starkbucksbingo #tony stark #bucky barnes #buckytony #winteriron #well pre-relationship anyway #my writing

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avintagekiss24 · 4 years

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listen before i go > bucky barnes

|| pairing: bucky barnes x black!reader

|| word count: 6,630

|| warnings: angst, heavy angst, smut, sex, bucky barnes’ trigger words, cock warming if you look close

|| square filled: @star-spangled-bingo SSB2020 N5: needy clingy sex

|| square filled: @buckybarnesbingo C1: angst

|| summary: you and bucky just can’t say what you want to say.

|| link: ao3

|| note: sad boi hours are still commencing. this one is gonna hurt, dudes. please heed the warnings. i think i said i don’t like posting on sunday’s, and here i am posting two sunday’s in a row. what are ya gonna do? title inspired by billie eilish’s listen before i go. don’t hate me!

line divider by @writeyourmindaway

Tears leak from your eyes. You cover your face with your hands as he shoves his clothes into his old duffel bag. Say you’re sorry. Don’t let him leave!

“Bucky-”

“Don’t,” he says curtly, zipping up his bag and throwing it over his shoulder, “You want me out, I’m leaving.”

You don’t want him out. You don’t… or do you? Yes. You do. That’s what you told your friends. That’s what you told yourself. That’s what you told him. He has to go - he has too. This isn’t working... right? Emotion wracks your body again as he storms past you. Your shoulders shake as the sadness consumes you. Your face breaks, your heart sinks, your cries clog your throat, choking you.

You don’t follow him.

Bucky stops at the door of your apartment, his hand on the knob. He turns his head, just a little, listening to you cry. He closes his eyes, cursing himself. He doesn’t want to leave. He doesn’t want to leave you. He should give it up - running around the world, fighting aliens and robots and god knows what else. He’d give it up for you, he would. He should.

He walks out the door and slams it behind him.

----------

It’s been a while, maybe three weeks? Four? You’re not really sure. You’ve busied yourself to keep from thinking about him. You signed up for a cooking class, and a dance class, and picked up a few extra shifts at the bookstore you volunteer at sometimes - just to stay busy. It’s worked for the most part. Between work, your friends, and your new hobbies, you barely have time to think about Bucky Barnes.

That’s a lie. You know exactly how long it’s been. Four weeks. You think about him - not often, this part is true - but you still think about him. Mainly at night, when you’re alone in your big room and your big bed. It’s weird to you now, your bed. Foreign. You never realized how big it was until he wasn’t in it; the whole room really, it’s just so big.

The two of you never made it official, moving in together, but he was there more often than he wasn’t. His broad, heavy body weighing down the mattress, or barely fitting in the shower, but you loved having him here. You always felt safe; consumed by all things him when he was here. Now it’s just empty - quiet. Just you and your little house plant, that he picked out, of course. You just didn’t have the heart to throw it away.

Just like you don’t have the heart to throw him away - his memories.

Not yet.

Not entirely.

That’s why most nights you stare at your phone, your thumb hovering over his name. You’ve tapped it a few times, his name, but always panic as soon as it starts ringing. You tap on the little red phone and throw it into the chair in the corner of the room. You roll over, away from it, just in case it illuminates from an incoming call or text and stare out at the moon, until the emotion just can’t be held back any longer.

You’re lying again. You cry yourself to sleep most nights.

So, this is why you make yourself busy.

----------

It’s been awhile. Four weeks, two days. The girl behind the bar looks like you, kind of. Well, enough to remind Bucky of that soft, warm smile of yours. He remembers it like it was yesterday. It was usually in the morning when you’d give him that smile. You’d have your face buried in the pillows and sheets, little slivers of skin poking out from underneath here and there. He loved to watch you sleep.

He’d do anything to be able to wake up next to you again.

Anyway, it was usually early, early in the morning when you’d smile at him the way that bartender is smiling at him now. You’d be half asleep, not really coherent enough to even know who you were smiling at, but you’d shift next to him - curl right into his body, and just smile. Softly. Sweetly. Then you’d take a breath, a deep one, tighten your grip around his waist and fall right back asleep.

He’d fall right back asleep with you.

“You doin’ okay?” The bartender asks, smiling at him again.

Bucky drops his eyes to the glass in his hands as he spins it slowly. She doesn’t look like you up close. He picks up his drink and finishes off the last drops before he slides it in her direction, “One more.”

She winks at him, “You got it.”

She’s flirting with you, Bucky. He used to not care when women were flirting with him. If he’s telling the absolute truth, he still doesn’t - he should. It’s been four weeks and two days after all.

She’s not you.

She kinda looks like you, smiles like you, but she’s not you.

He doesn’t want a similar version of you.

He wants you.

She slides the now full glass of whiskey towards him, Bucky catching it with just the tips of his fingers. He can feel her eyes on him as he lifts it to his lips and takes a slow sip before he nods slowly, staring at the glass. He slides his eyes towards the flirtatious bartender and smirks, “I’m Bucky.”

“Tamera.”

----------

It’s Friday night, so that means it’s sushi class night. Steve decided to come with you this time, he’s been trying to get Sam to try it for the longest time - figured, maybe Sam would feel a little more comfortable with it if Steve made it. You and Steve have always gotten along really well, which surprised you because, you know, he’s Steve Rogers; rigid and uptight. He’s not that uptight, Sam’s still working on the rigid thing, though.

The two of you have been having fun. It’s nice seeing Steve be not-so-good at something for a change. Your phone buzzes in your back pocket, but your hands are sticky and covered in rice, so you bounce off to the sink to wash them quickly. You pull out your iPhone, expecting to see a text from your sister, MJ, but find a notification from Apple News.

Avengers bad boy, Bucky Barnes,…

Your lips part as you read his name. You glance over your shoulder, you’re not really sure why, as if everyone’s eyes are going to be on you because you're reading up on your ex-boyfriend. You take a breath. You shouldn’t care what Avengers bad boy, Bucky Barnes is doing, but you want to know what Avengers bad boy Bucky Barnes is doing. God, you hope he’s not hurt.

Don’t look. It isn’t your business anymore. You turn on your heel, shoving the phone back into your pocket, but can’t seem to take a step away from the sink. You just - fuck, maybe he’s hurt. He’s probably done something stupid again, he just got that new arm not three months ago. Shuri is gonna kill him.

It’s still not your business, even if the fucker is hurt. You still can’t move. You place your hand on your back pocket, feeling your phone, debating with yourself. You shouldn’t fucking care - but you do. So you pull it out and tap on the notification, taking you to the original TMZ article. Your blood runs cold.

Avengers bad boy, Bucky Barnes, seen leaving an uptown bar with mystery woman

Your mouth goes dry as you read down the page. Your breath hitches in your throat when you get to the pictures. His fingers curled in hers as they move down the street. Smiles on their faces. Then his arm is over her shoulders. Then -

You blink back the sudden flood of tears furiously as your chin starts to tremble. He’s kissing her. He’s got her up against his apartment building, his hands cupping her face. Her eyes are closed and his head is tilted - his body is crushed up against hers - just like the two of you used to do. He used to pull you close, so tight into his body as the two of you would wind your way through the city. Then, right when you turned the corner onto his street, he’d whirl you around him, and push you up against the building. He’d push his hands up your shirt, pinching, grabbing, his lips crushed to yours.

Now he’s found someone else. He’s kissing someone else the exact same way he used to kiss you. You can’t help but read on, seeing the pictures of them leaving together in the morning - hand in hand again. It’s over. All the nights you’ve spent staring down at his name on your phone, trying to call him, wanting to call him… you should have called him. Maybe he wouldn’t be with her.

It’s over.

You and Bucky are really over.

“Hey,” you don’t even really hear Steve when he walks up to you, “Hey, you okay?”

He follows your eyes to the small screen in your hands and tips it towards him, clearing his throat as he skims the last few lines of the article, “Lets not - come on, let’s take a break, huh?”

He ushers you outside and immediately draws you into his chest, rubbing your back, resting his chin on the top of your head, “Oh, honey.” He sighs softly as you sob.

It’s really over.

----------

It’s Friday night. No, actually it’s Saturday morning; 2:32am. Bucky sits on the edge of his bed, his head hanging as he rubs his forehead with his hand. He picks his head up just high enough to glance over his shoulder at the sleeping woman behind him. Tamera. It’s the second night in a row that he’s had her and she’s still not you.

She doesn’t feel like you - her body, her mouth. She doesn’t sound like you, she doesn’t move like you… she’s not you. No matter how hard he tries to pretend that she is you; she’s not you. He blinks and hangs his head again as his thumb hovers over your name in his phone. He needs to hear your voice, especially now. He wasn’t… ready for this. He wasn’t ready the first time, but he forced himself and hated it. He forced himself again tonight and not only did he hate it, he hates himself.

He should have called you weeks ago.

He should have texted you and apologized and asked if he could come back because that’s all that he really wants; to just walk through your front door, back into your apartment and your shared life as the proud parents of a small plant. He should have called you weeks ago. If he had, he wouldn’t be here right now, with Tamera in his bed, pain in his heart, that nagging voice in his head.

Call her now. Tell her you’re sorry.

He shouldn’t care. He shouldn’t feel bad right now. He did what every other person does, he moved on. He shouldn’t care about what you think anymore - but he does. He knows how you feel about these kinda things. You weren’t this kinda girl, the one who just goes home with some guy named Bucky after eye fucking him for half the night. Not that you’re a prude, not that you shame anyone, it just isn’t you - these random hook ups.

He liked that about you. That you were kind of old school. Reminded him of the good old days, back in the thirties. Innocent dates, sneaking little kisses so nobody would see, those little giggles that filled his ears when he pushed a little further every time he saw you. He’s always enjoyed a little chase. He enjoyed chasing you, and when he finally caught you, he still found himself fantasizing about you. Every damn day.

Even now. Even with someone else underneath him, he still thought about you - he had to, or else he couldn’t have…

He bites the inside of his lip before he lets out a deep sigh. Your name stares up at him from the soft lighting of his phone. He needs to hear your voice. He doesn’t want to be in this apartment, in this bed, with this woman. He just wants to be wrapped up in your arms, curled around your little, warm body, his fingers pressed into your flesh, your warm breath splashing over his face.

He swallows. His thumb starts to tremble as he holds it over your name.

Call her now. Tell her you’re sorry.

He closes his eyes, “Fuck.”

He cuts his eyes towards the nightstand, staring at it until it doesn’t even look like a nightstand anymore.

He throws his phone into the chair in the corner of the room.

He stands and moves into the bathroom, shutting the door behind him before he flips on the water of the shower, turning it as hot as he can.

He’s gotta get that woman’s smell off of him.

----------

It’s been four months since that Friday night sushi class. You’re now a sushi rolling expert - which, you are pretty proud of. You got a promotion at work. You have a kitten. You and MJ have a Hawaiian vacation coming up over Christmas. Things are… brighter, to say the least.

There’s still moments. You’ll be at work, or waiting in line at the coffee shop and a brief thought will streak across your mind. I wonder what Bucky’s doing? You don’t think about it for long - not anymore. You’re finally starting to get to the point where you really don’t care. You made the right decision that night, asking him to leave. That life - his life - wasn’t one that you wanted to lead. You didn’t want to have to hide away in some upstate safe house every time some villain got wind of your romance.

You didn’t want to stay up all night long, worrying about him as he kicked and punched his way through aliens or robots or whatever the hell decided to come to earth that day. You don’t want to waste days waiting for him to drag his tired, beaten body out of bed after returning from a mission. That life wasn’t - and isn’t - for you. You made the right decision.

“Here you go, doll,” the barista says, smiling as he hands you a vanilla Frap.

Doll. You haven’t heard that in four months. You smile widely, “Thank you.”

You head back out onto the street, sipping on your coffee as you turn up the music to your airpods. The Cottage on the Beach, from the Atonement soundtrack. One of your favorite movies. It’s tragic, but beautiful - the movie, the soundtrack, and your life. You’re getting to the beautiful part, you’re sure of it.

You’re heading back to your apartment after getting lucky at work and having two of your afternoon meetings canceled. Instead of taking the train, you decided to walk - another way of keeping yourself busy. You turn down fifth avenue, also deciding to window shop on the way home, and slow your pace as you move past Saks, eyeing a gorgeous pair of pumps in the window. They would look great on your feet while dancing in Hawaii, that’s for sure.

You stop, pulling out your phone to take a picture to send to your sister, when a voice sounds behind you, stopping you in your tracks.

“Hey.”

You snap your eyes from your phone to the window in front of you, almost too afraid to turn. You take a breath, shifting your eyes around the glass window as if you aren’t exactly sure if you heard it or not, you are listening to music after all. Maybe you -

“Hey, can you hear me?”

You turn quickly - and there he is. Blue eyes, fluffy, short hair, stubble covering his cheeks and chin. The leather jacket that you loved so much on his broad torso. He’s slimmed down a bit, but he always did fluctuate, unlike Steve, which you always thought was kinda weird.

He smiles at you, a wide smile, the one that makes his eyes crinkle on the sides, “Hey, I thought it was you. How are you?”

You nod quickly, “I’m um, I’m fine. Hi,” you laugh a little.

“You look… great,” he says, looking you up and down, “Really great.”

“Thank you,” you answer softly, tilting your head down as you tuck some of your hair behind your ear, “You.. you look nice too.”

He shrugs, tearing his eyes from yours to glance off across the street, “Ah, you know. I’ve lost a couple pounds.”

You nod again, “Yeah, I can tell.”

He snaps his eyes back to yours. You stare at each other for a couple of seconds, both of your minds racing, wanting to say so much.

I miss you.

I love you.

Please let me come home.

Please come back.

----------

Bucky blinks at you as you duck your head away from him again. Steve’s words play back in his mind from all those months ago. You didn’t see her that night, Bucky! She was crushed seeing those pictures. Crushed. He couldn’t get the word out of his head for weeks afterward. Crushed. You were crushed seeing those pictures.

He never wanted to hurt you. He should have known better. He shouldn’t have left the hotel with her. Fuck, he shouldn’t have went to the hotel bar in first place. He should have called you, like he wanted to. Maybe, the two of you could have avoided all of this.

Now that he has you here, he doesn’t want you to leave. It’s awkward between you. He watches as you shift nervously, not able to keep your eyes on him for long. Constantly pushing at your hair and then tugging at your blouse. It makes him sad. He doesn’t want you to be nervous around him - unsure of him. He still doesn’t want you to leave, though. He’ll deal with the awkwardness.

“Do you wanna get a drink?” His mouth moves before his brain can keep up with it.

He watches as you shift again nervously, sucking your bottom lip into your mouth, “No, I -”

“Please?” He’s nearly begging, “Just,” the words drop away as he runs his hand through his hair, “So, we can talk?”

“There’s not really anything to talk about, Bucky.”

----------

You end up in the bar of the Marriott Hotel with him. He could always talk you into doing shit you didn’t want to do - because after a while, he always made you feel safe. He wouldn’t let anything hurt you, so you just did what he asked you to do. He orders a bourbon, you get white wine. You both sit at the bar, facing straight, not looking at each other, your wine glass placed at your lips, his fingers tracing the rim of his glass. He takes a drink and sits the glass down softly, bowing his head.

“I’m sorry,” he says simply, after a while.

You finally turn towards him, “For what?”

“For,” he shrugs, “I shouldn’t have - I don’t know. I’m just sorry, for everything.” I’m sorry for leaving you.

You look back down at your wine glass and your fingers, “You don’t have to apologize. You didn’t do anything wrong.” I should have asked you to stay.

“I could have been more discreet. Those fucking paps are everywhere, I gotta remember that.” Please forgive me.

You shrug a little, you should have known Steve would tell him, “It’s,” you dip your head, “It’s okay. We’re adults, we can… do whatever we want.” I forgive you.

It grows silent between the two of you. You’re both looking at each other now, eyes bouncing back and forth. His eyes then slip down to your lips and fixate on them for a few seconds before they move back up to your wide eyes. Then, suddenly, his large hand is on your cheek, his thumb rubbing along your bottom lip.

His hand is so warm.

You blink as his hand caresses your face - gently. Just like he used to. He tilts his head a little as his lips part, his thumb still dancing over your bottom lip. His eyes still bounce, softly, between yours, reading you, just like he always could. His eyes dip again to your mouth, and his lips, they, they quiver - just slightly. His fingers wrap around the back of your neck and he’s pulling, pulling you into him.

You moan into his mouth almost as soon as his lips are on yours. It’s so familiar, his lips, his mouth, his tongue. For the first time in months, you finally feel like yourself. You lean into him, kissing him back, humming and moaning. It gets desperate - quickly. To the point where he’s standing, both of his hands cupping your face as he kisses you hard. Your hands slide around his waist to pull him closer as you inhale him.

He pulls you up on your feet and pecks your lips once, twice, three times. He grabs your hand and pulls your towards the front desk, lacing his fingers with yours as he asks for a room. Your heart pounds in your chest and ears as you rest your head against his back, shielding yourself from the clerk’s prying eyes.

Bucky digs in his pocket, grabbing his wallet and throwing his card down before scribbling his name on the receipt. The clerk slides the key cards in Bucky’s direction with a smile and drops his attention back to the small computer in front of him. He’s seen this too many times to care.

You keep your fingers twisted with Bucky’s as you wait for the elevator. Neither one of you look at each other as you stare at the illuminated numbers as they descend. The doors open as the soft ding sounds and you both step on, Bucky slamming his finger on the round number ten. Neither one of you say anything as the metal box carries you up into the hotel, slowing and then stopping at your floor.

You let Bucky guide you down the hall, stopping at room 1022. He presses the card against the reader and the door clicks, popping open slightly. Bucky pushes through, pulling you with him, only letting your hand go to close and lock the door behind you. You walk into the room, your eyes scanning. Your eyes land on the bed. It’s a big bed. It looks soft.

You inhale sharply when you feel Bucky’s chest crush against your back. His fingers slither around your waist as his lips press against the back of your neck. You close your eyes and push your hand up and into his hair as you let your body melt into his. You tilt your head towards the ceiling as he starts to sway the two of you back and forth slowly, his tongue sneaking out from behind his lips to lap at your warm, sensitive skin. His metal hand moves up into your shirt, inching along your skin until it cups your breasts firmly, making you moan, really moan for the first time.

You love that arm.

His digits push into your bra, rolling your nipple softly as his teeth sink into the crook of your neck. You jump, grunting deeply as your body tightens. God, it’s been so long.

His free hand snakes down to your jeans, popping the button and pushing down your zipper. It slithers in, his flesh sliding into your panties and between your slick folds. You jolt forward at the sensual touch, bent at your hips as his fingers start to massage your sex. Your mouth hangs open as you draw in ragged breaths, your hips pushing forward, anticipating his next stroke. He bends forward with you, groaning into your ear as he rubs your clit - quick - just how he knows to do.

He pushes his fingers inside of you and you push back up straight, reaching back to pull on his hair. He pumps them hard as he pinches your taut nipple, his breath hot and heavy against the side of your face. He pushes his hips into your behind, wanting you to feel him, feel how much he wants you - how much he’s missed you.

He tugs on your earlobe with his teeth and you whimper. The pain mixing with the pleasure his fingers bring. You don’t want his fingers any longer. You want him, all of him. You want to scream his name as he fucks you into the mattress, hour after hour. You want to drag your nails down his long, sinewy back. You want to feel his cock stretching you, spreading you, spearing you.

Bucky apparently wants the same. He could always read your mind, it seemed. He pulls his hands away from you to strip you down, tossing your clothing to the floor without a care. He pushes you onto the bed once you’re exposed and bare, flipping you onto your back by your ankle. He pulls you down to the edge of the bed by your calf and pushes his knees into the mattress as he starts to disrobe himself.

You sit up, wrapping your legs around his and bite down in your bottom lip as you send your eyes up to his. You place your hands on his hips, raking your fingers down his back as soon as his polka dotted shirt falls to the floor. You drop your eyes to his hands as his fingers start to fumble with the thick belt holding up his black jeans. You moan a little as you watch him, his skilled fingers moving slowly - - dropping the belt to the floor with a thud before popping the button and pushing down the zipper.

You hiss when his jeans fall. Dark hair peeks out over the band of his Hugo Boss boxer briefs and you can’t resist any longer. You lean in and press your plump lips to his warm skin, placing soft kisses along his sculpted stomach, breathing in his scent. He lets out a deep breath as his metal fingers skim over your shoulder and cup your chin softly. He pushes his index finger into your chin, pushing your head up so the two of you can link eyes once more. Your lips part as you stare up into his stormy eyes - blinking only when his thumb sweeps over your bottom lip.

He kisses you quickly, holding your chin all the while. He pulls away, but not far, his lips still brushing the tip of your nose as his eyes move around your face. He always did like to look at you. He cups the back of your head and lays you onto the mattress, spreading your legs with his knees. You hold onto his shoulders as you fold your legs around his waist, hooking your ankles together as you feel him start to press at your opening.

When he pushes, and you start to spread for him, you slam your eyes closed and dig your nails into his thick flesh. You whimper as he sinks into you slowly, his weight pushing you into the mattress. Once you’ve swallowed him - his hips are flush to yours - you wiggle your hips and push your heels into the small of his back, wanting him deeper, even though it isn’t possible.

Agonizingly slow, he pulls out of you - his mouth dropping open as he watches. You wrap your hands around his forearms as he withdraws, and then plunges back in with a little force. You push upward with the thrust, releasing an airy grunt as he fills you back up. He kisses you again, hard, desperate, as he starts to fuck into you, his hips pushing and pulling with a rhythm all their own.

You’ve always loved the way Bucky fucks you. It was instant, from the first time that the two of you were together, he just knew you; knew what you wanted, what you liked. It’s kind of dirty, the way he fucks you. Even when he’s being sweet, and gentle, it’s still a little obscene - crude. The darkness in him comes out when he fucks you. You wouldn’t have it any other way.

He’s ruined you for other men.

Your hips dig into the mattress with each of his deep thrusts. You’re loud, grunting and mewling within minutes - he feels so good. He always feels so fucking good. You keep your eyes on him as he watches you, his eyes shifting from your eyes to your mouth, then down to your bouncing tits. He’s always loved them too. He cups your left breast with his metal hand, squeezing gently as he runs his tongue over his teeth. He leans down and sucks your tit into his mouth, swirling his tongue over your hard nipple.

He bites down and your hips jerk into his as you gasp, pushing him deeper. You yelp as the pain and the pleasure rip through you, making your toes curl and your fingers jab into him even harder.

“God,” you rasp, your face twisting with lust as he drills into you.

You shut your eyes again and you get a flash of her. His arm thrown over her shoulder, pulling her into his body. The smiles on their faces. His body crushed up against hers in front of his apartment building. You fling your eyes open, gasping a little as your mind starts to race. Don’t do this. Not now. Please. Just -

He probably fucked her just like this. Just how he’s fucking you right now. Your scent is gone from his sheets, his pillows, replaced by hers. You focus in on the ceiling as the intrusive thoughts pull you out of the moment.

Your lips part.

Your chin trembles.

----------

Bucky’s missed you. Your body, your noises, these perfect, pretty tits. He’s dreamt about this since the night he left your apartment - having you again. Making you scream. He pulls your breast into his mouth, sucking on you just how you like. He bites down and you buck into his cock, driving him deeper into your pussy and he shudders. You feel so goddamn good around him.

“God,” you rasp, your full voice hitting his eardrum just right, drawing a groan out of him.

He releases your nipple with a smack, leaning back up and resting his weight onto his palms that press into the mattress on either side of you. He feels your tight grip loosen, just a tad, your shrieks get quiet and then disappear all together. He sends his eyes back up to yours and his hips halt instantly.

You’re crying. Your small hands cover your face as your body is wracked with emotion. All of the air is sucked right out of the room. What’s worse, is that he doesn’t even have to ask why. He just knows. Bucky exhales as his own face twists at the sight. He pries at your hands, trying to pull them away from your face, “Baby,” he whispers, “Don’t. Don’t cry. Please, baby.”

He watches as you turn away from him, pressing your face into the pillow, still trying to hide, “Baby,” he tries again, his voice shaking, “Look at me.”

He pushes your head to face him, his own emotion choking up in his throat. He shakes his head, his breath getting shaky, his eyes filling with tears, “I’m sorry.” He whispers as his own tears start to fall, “I’m so sorry.”

He drops his forehead to yours and kisses you hard, “Baby, I’m sorry.” He sobs, “I’m sorry, don’t cry. Please don’t cry, baby.”

I never meant to hurt you. Just say it. I never meant to hurt you, I love you.

Say it, Bucky.

Just say it.

“Stay with me, baby,” he whispers, wiping away the tears that streak down your cheeks, “Stay with me, stay here. Please.”

I love you.

Say it!

----------

Bucky kisses you hard, “Baby, I’m sorry.” He sobs, “I’m sorry, don’t cry. Please don’t cry, baby.”

You can’t help it. It’s just different now. He’s not - yours anymore. You have to share him with her. Your face is wet with your tears and his, your body crushed to his body as he holds you tight - so tight. He begs you not to cry, not to think about it, to stay with him, here, in this moment. You want to. You just want to feel good again. You want to feel like yourself because God knows this has been the most alien four months of your life.

You grab his face in your hands and kiss him, moaning into him as the sobs still wrack your body. You just want to feel good. You want to stay. I want to stay. You rock your hips into his, trying to coax him to move again. He does. He pushes his hips into yours as he kisses you again, his lips plump and salty and soft from the tears. You wrap your arms around his neck and close your eyes as he nuzzles into the side of your face, still murmuring his apologies.

His hips push harder and faster, like he wants to fuck the sad right out of you - and right out of himself. He keeps his face buried in your neck, his hands underneath you as he cries and you cry, your dull orgasm starting to gain steam. You push your fingers into his back as his muscles tense and flex. You cup his ass, squeezing his flesh as it bounces with his hips.

You feel his teeth on your skin, nipping and nibbling before he rests his forehead to yours again. His mouth hangs open, his hot breath washes over your face as his lips tremble softly. You slam your eyes closed and just give in - into him, into the emotions, into the sadness, into the moment.

You squeeze your legs around him and let it consume you. You come, hard, your body shaking, your toes curling, your breath hitching as it courses through your veins. You cry out, your wails filling the room as Bucky continues to slam into you until he too succumbs to the pressure. You feel his cock throbbing inside of you, jumping with each spurt of cum. He fills you up, up to the brim, stuffing you full of his seed.

He collapses on top of you, his sweaty skin sticking to yours. You run your fingers along his spine as his breathing calms and his body starts to relax. He stays tucked inside of you, his cock warm and still stiff. This was always your favorite part. Sure, the fuck was good, but this is what you crave. The closeness. The stillness of him. His skin pressed against yours, his weight holding you to the bed. The feeling of his heart beating against you.

I love you.

Say it.

----------

You didn’t say it.

You should have, but you didn’t.

You did say that you would meet him for dinner, so that the two of you could talk, really talk this time. You’re nervous, but you’re here. Despite not understanding why you wanted to come, MJ helped you get dressed, soothed your nerves. She told you to call her if you need her - I owe that metal armed asshole a punch in the mouth.

You tap your fingers against the table, biting the inside of your cheek, glancing around the restaurant as you wait. Your foot dances underneath the table with nerves. Why are you so nervous? You know him, you love him. You just need to say it. Just fucking say it and this will all be over. There’s no need to keep living like this when you don’t have to. You want him, you need him. You just need to tell him.

You nibble on a piece of bread. You check your phone again. He was supposed to be here. Twenty minutes ago, Bucky was supposed to be here. You wring your hands together harshly, pushing your thumb into your left palm over and over again. Your eyes dart around the restaurant and focus on the door.

He’ll be here. He’s just… running late, is all. He’ll - he’ll be here.

You check your phone again. No call. No text. He was supposed to be here, forty minutes ago. You close your eyes and rub your forehead, trying to push back the emotion that threatens to spill out. It didn’t mean anything. You whimper as the thoughts start to race around your head. Last week meant nothing to him - he used you. No. No, that’s - that’s not the Bucky you know. He wouldn’t do that to you. He wouldn’t, he’s just - Fury kept him late today, is all. He’s coming.

He is.

You push out into the night an hour and twenty seven minutes later, tears rolling down your face as you bring your phone to your ear, “MJ,” you sob, “He doesn’t love me anymore.”

“What?” You barely hear her, “What did he do? Where are you?”

“He doesn’t love me anymore.” You openly cry, “He never showed up. He doesn’t love me anymore, MJ.”

----------

“Bucky!” Steve shouts angrily, pushing through the front door of his friends apartment, your cries and MJ’s seething voice still ringing in his ears, “Goddamn it, what in the fuck do you think you’re -”

He stops in his tracks. His eyes skirt around the empty apartment as he stands perfectly still. Steve snaps his eyes towards the floor when a soft light illuminates from it. He moves towards it, bending to pick up Bucky’s phone. Five missed calls, two voicemails, one text message, all from you.

I fucking hate you. Don’t ever come near me again.

Steve’s eyes scan your message as his lips part. He glances towards the bathroom. The light is still on. He squints as he picks up on the sound of the water from the sink still running. His eyes fall on Bucky’s wallet that still sits on the nightstand before he eyes the phone in his hands again.

He turns on his heel and rushes out of the apartment, taking the stairs two by two, “Sam,” he says as soon as the sleepy man answers the phone, “Something isn’t right.”

----------

Bucky slams his head back in the cold, metal chair that he’s strapped down to. He pushes his arms against the clamps that hold him in place, but no matter how hard he tries, he can’t break free.

“Longing. Rusted. Seventeen.”

“Please don’t.” Bucky begs, tilting his head towards the ceiling, “Please don’t do this.”

“Daybreak. Furnace. Nine.”

Bucky screams as he starts to struggle, twisting and turning, bucking and fighting against the clamps around his wrists and stomach. He’s not strong enough. He can’t break them, “Please!” he screams, “Please don’t! Please!”

“Benign. Homecoming. One.”

He starts to sob. He slams his eyes closed as he tries to remember your face. Your smile. Your smell. Your soft skin against his. He should have told you he loved you. He should have begged you to let him come home. He should have never left you.

“I love you.” He says aloud, “I love you baby, I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.” He cries, the tears streaking down his cheeks, “Please don’t hate me.”

I love you!

“Freight car.”

Bucky blinks.

Tears still roll down his cheeks, but he isn’t actively crying anymore. He hears a pair of boots walking slowly around him, the soft thwump of a book closing as the mysterious man approaches his side.

“Soldat?”

“Я готов отвечить.”

Ready to comply.

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