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cricket-reader · 11 months

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Mutual Agreement

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Summary: whilst on a mission, you and Bucky get caught in the cold. Your body doesn’t handle the temperature well, being you’re not a supersoldier. Your state brings back memories of Bucky’s life before Hydra, making him fear for your health.

Warnings: language, hypothermia, crying, mentions of death, fluff

Word Count: 1,551

Prompt: Delirium | Hypothermia | Stabilisation

A/N: Day 4 of June of Doom by @juneofdoom

Bucky never showed his emotions. He was a closed book, and he intended to keep it that way. But that all shattered to pieces one fateful mission.

You and Bucky had been assigned to take down an abandoned Hydra base in Russia. Bucky had wanted to go alone, but Steve insisted that he went with a partner. That partner just so happened to be you, the girl that Bucky admired from afar.

You were strong, intelligent, and beautiful. He admired you for that and all the good you had done. You were better than him in every single way.

Finding and destroying the base was an easy matter. It was abandoned, therefore, there were no surprise attacks. It was the perfect mission. No injuries, no deaths, and most importantly to Bucky, not even a hair on your head was harmed.

Things only went downhill from there.

The getaway vehicle you had parked in the forest refused to start again. It didn’t matter what Bucky did, the vehicle refused to start up. On top of that, it was freezing in the vehicle. Almost as cold as it was outside, without the wind, of course.

If your shivering was anything to go by, Bucky knew you both couldn’t stay there. On his GPS, the safe house wasn’t far away. The supersoldier could make it on foot no problem. He just wasn’t so sure about you.

Internally, his thoughts were running rampant. On the outside, he looked as calm and collected as usual.

“We shouldn’t stay here. Do you think you can walk to the safe house?”

You bit your lip. “Sure.”

Bucky didn’t trust the tone of your voice whatsoever, but he didn’t let it show. He had to get you to warmth before he lost you.

You both exited the useless vehicle, and trudged your way towards the cabin.

It didn’t take long for your hands to start shaking, and your steps to begin faltering. You had to stay strong, though. You couldn’t face the embarrassment of failure in front of a teammate that you swore hated your guts.

The feeling in your face as well as your feet had long since vanished. Your fingers hadn’t had feeling since you reached the vehicle. These were not good signs, but you resigned to deal with it since the cabin was coming into your view.

Bucky noticed you lagging behind before you did. His heart raced, wanting to pick you up and bolt to the cabin where he could get you warm. He knew, however, that you would not like that notion. You’d probably smite him if he dared lay a finger on you. You liked your space, hating when people invaded it. Because although you were kind, you too had boundaries. Physical touch just happened to be yours.

It wasn’t until you tripped and fell into the snow that he decided, “screw that” and picked you up from the ground. You were trembling so hard, as cold as ice and it fucking scared him.

You let out a small noise of protest as he gathered you in his arms and began to run to the cabin. You could do it yourself. You just needed a little rest, that’s all.

Bucky slammed the door to the cabin open and slammed it shut before running to set you on the ground. He took off your soaked jacket and boots. You gently pushed him away, not really able to put any force behind it. “I can do it myself,” you muttered indignantly.

Whilst Bucky usually loved your sense of independence, it only served to frustrate him. He pouted with his signature grumpy face, arms crossed and all. He watched you peel off your drenched socks. Your fingers were still trembling.

He just wanted to help. You turned to go to one of the rooms, hoping to find a new pair of pants that weren’t wet.

You overestimated your ability to walk. Tripping over nothing probably had to be the most embarrassing thing you had ever done in front of Barnes. He didn’t hesitate to catch you. In Bucky’s arms you wanted nothing more than to melt into a puddle of shame.

Bucky muttered something to himself as he carried you to the nearest room. He set you on the ottoman in front of the bed before going to ruffle through the closet. He found some clothes for you to wear.

He turned around to give them to you, so you could change yourself. When he saw you falling asleep, he dashed to your side. You couldn’t fall asleep on him now. “C’mon, wake up,” he muttered, not a trace of worry evident in either his tone or on his face. He was determined to keep calm in front of you. Freaking out would do no good.

You blearily opened your eyes. It was so cold. Why were you so cold? You were in the warmth now. You should be fine.

“I’m gonna change your clothes now, okay? Is that alright?” Bucky asked. He didn’t want to do anything without your consent, but if worse came to worse, he would have to. He just needed to stabilise you before things got any worse. You just groaned in response. Cursing under his breath, Bucky dutifully peeled off your pants and dressed you in the sweats he had found. He left your shirt on, since it wasn’t affected by the snow. He didn’t want to do anything more. Not without your consent.

In your state of delirium, you barely noticed that he had picked you up and carried you to bed. You barely noticed the way he took care to wrap you in multiple blankets.

When you woke up, you were incredibly warm. You were also practically trapped in a cocoon of blankets. Groaning, you unwrapped yourself from the layers upon layers of blankets.

You tiptoed your way into the hallway. Looking around, you didn’t see Barnes anywhere.

You furrowed your brows when you heard a muffled sound coming from the bedroom down the hall.

You creeped to the door and pressed your ear against it. You could hear ragged breaths and choked sobs coming from behind the door. It had to be Bucky. No one else would be out here. However, you’d never seen him cry. He always was so strong given what he’d been through. He was resilient. So what could have prompted his tears? Did he have a nightmare? You knew from Steve that he was struggling with them. Your hand hesitated at the door handle. How you longed to go in there and comfort him, to wrap him in your arms and tell him he was safe now. But you knew he was a private person. He hated it when people saw him vulnerable, and you didn’t blame him.

All it took to break your hesitance was a sob.

Bucky had a hard time keeping everything in. He didn’t mean to let it out, but god he couldn’t help it. Seeing you look so pale and weak, your ice cold skin and shivering body… it reminded him of Steve. Little Steve back when they were kids. He thought Steve was going to die that cold January night. Bucky had stayed with him the whole night, praying to anyone that would listen to not take away his best friend.

It was like history was repeating itself and just the thought of you dying tore him to shreds. Now, Bucky didn’t believe in any god, not after all he went through with Hydra, but you bet your ass he had prayed. He didn’t get too far before his emotions caught up with him, hitting him head on like a bus.

That led him to the moment where you burst through the door. Your concerned features swept Bucky’s distraught figure. He was in the corner of the room, curled up into a ball. He didn’t even notice you, too busy trying to get air into his lungs.

Your heart tore at the sight of him so broken. You gently moved up beside him and kneeled just a few feet away. “Bucky?”

His red, watery eyes looked up at you like you were a ghost. Those eyes widened as he scrambled to make himself look like less of a mess. He sniffled back his tears and ran his hands over his eyes. Red creeped onto the tips of his ears and the back of his neck, completely ashamed you were seeing him like this.

His body froze when you wordlessly wrapped your arms around his body. He wanted to cry all over again. He couldn’t remember the last time someone had held him as if he were something precious. It took him a few seconds before he returned the gesture, hesitant to touch you. He could hurt you… or what if this was all just a figment of his imagination. Bucky didn’t want your tender hold to disappear.

You both stayed wrapped in each other’s arms for the rest of the night. Not a word needed to be said between you both. In your silence was a mutual agreement. An agreement that no one had to know about Bucky’s meltdown. An agreement that you wouldn’t ask questions. An agreement that this is what both of you needed. Some comfort.

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itzmich03 · 1 year

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Warnings: mentions of a pregnant reader, fluff, dad Bucky, pure fluff, Bucky being a cutie

DO NO REPOST ON ANY OTHER PLATFORM

Bucky never thought he would ever be doing these but there he was his steel blue eyes glaring at the identical ones flashing back and slightly squatting them he was leaning back on the armchair in your living room, arms crossed over his chest trying to intimidate the other replica of him doing coping his same actions.

He couldn't believe it this other human trying to claim you as his own, the worst part of this was that it was his flesh and blood, the product of his undeniable love and adoration for you, and his name is

Anthony Howard Barnes aka A.J. aka Mini buck.

You were sitting on the sofa watching in amusement as your husband and son glared at each other your son was lining back on his small armchair the drawing he was coloring long forgotten as he glared at your husband sitting opposite right in front of him

“No, I'm her favorite” your husband argues with your 6-year-old son

“Nuh-uh I’m mommy's favorite” the boy protests sticking his tongue out, the older man returning the favor

“Nah, I'm your favorite right love?’’ Bucky asks for your confirmation with those puppy eyes and cute pout that you can't resist

“you know I love you both equally” you respond smiling from ear to ear and opening your arms towards them they react by rushing to come and cuddle one on each side of you both hugging your swollen belly carefully yet tightly trying to hurt you or the babies inside

“My boys” you praise kissing your son on his forehead and giving Bucky a peak on the lips, melting in the hug

Bucky sighs in contentment and bliss, he never thought he would have this life, with you, with a growing family to call his own, this is home.

a/n this was inspired by another fic that I read so credit to the owner of this prompt

#bucky x reader #bucky fanfic #marvel #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes au #james barnes #husband!bucky #wife!reader #pregnant!reader #bucky barnes drabble #domestic!bucky #dad!bucky

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hollandsfavbabe · 1 month

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Peter's Precarious Polyjuice Potion - part 1

pairing: peter parker x stark!reader

synopsis: in which you and peter are forced to take extreme lengths to protect your secret relationship with the help of your shape shifting powers

warnings: a little suggestive language, lot's of fluff, lack of impulse control, extreme secrecy

word count: 5.7k

masterlist

a/n: Just a quick psa: this is going to be the first of two parts and the second is nearly finished! I tried to make it a one shot, but it was wayyy too long. There are some mentions of Harry Potter, obviously by the title, but no major spoilers and I want to make it very clear that I DO NOT support JK Rowling nor her transphobia. Trans women are women and trans men are men🏳‍⚧! That being said, I have another little surprise in the works that may have something to do with the wizarding world...

If you want to know what it is (and maybe get a sneak peak) comment your favorite character from the series and make a guess as to who you think mine might be. I'll reveal it with the next part of this series.

Thanks and enjoy!

Was there anything better than a chilly winter morning with the one you love most? Absolutely, a chilly winter morning with the one you love most and Harry Potter in the background. That’s all you could think of as your fuzzy sock clad feet padded across the campus floor.

The festive season’s aroma invaded your senses as you managed to steal the first four films from your father’s extensive DVD collection without being caught, the cover of the first one glinting in the light that flooded in from the wall of windows encasing Avenger’s campus as you admired how young the cast used to look and made your way to your boyfriend’s bedroom.

Suddenly, the usual quiet of the campus in the early morning was disturbed by the sound of footsteps of another Avenger in the distant halls and using your powers you immediately concealed the DVDs into a stack of school notebooks and a folder of overflowing miscellaneous papers as a facade. It wasn’t unusual for you to use your gifts this way.

It was only five years prior during a mission in the Czech Republic that you were introduced to Peter Parker and while everyone had expected the two of you to get along as teens of the same age, no one knew just how close you and Peter really were. The rule had initially started at Stark Tower as a branch off of one of your father’s household rules: no dating superheroes. You thought he would be less strict as your life became centered around them, as did his, but you had no such luck. There was little chance Tony Stark would ever change the rules set for his little girl. So you were left to bend them instead.

While you and Peter seemed like close friends, you only started out as a platonic couple before your relationship escalated faster than either of you could’ve anticipated into something more fulfilling than you could’ve ever hoped for. Peter became your everything. Before you knew it, he was your rock. He was the first person you wanted to share a new dirty joke with or an unlocked childhood memory or even complain to when your father became too restricting. It was so much easier for the both of you to be together during high school. Being a college sophomore made your relationship much more complicated. Especially seeing as Peter stayed close to home at NYU and you left town to attend MIT (your father would never let you go anywhere else).

With campuses that were over a 4 hour drive away from each other, you and Peter only got the occasional three day weekend to spend with each other and that was only when you were able to evade spending time with your dad by making up an excuse as to why you couldn’t come home and held your ground until you had to eventually cave to his demands. The only time you and Peter really got together was during holiday breaks when you two could both be at the campus and sneak around like smitten teenagers all over again. With only three weeks, you were determined not to waste a single second with so little time, even if it meant using your shapeshifting ability to disguise wizard school movies as chemistry homework. What could be suspicious about two close friends sharing notes about stoichiometry?

You felt your heart start back up as Natasha passed you in the hallway instead of your father, shooting you a smile.

“Morning, y/n.” she greeted pausing to look at your stack of folders with a look of confusion.

“Uhh, good morning.” you croaked, praying that there wasn’t some defect in your ability that allowed her to see a portion of the one of the movies you were disguising. Thankfully, your facade held.

“Homework? Really? This early on a saturday?”

You gulped as you nodded.

“You know me,” you forced a smile. “I’m actually on my way to wake Peter up so we can review together.”

“Good for you,” she nodded, impressed. “Breakfast should be in a couple hours if you two want a break. Try not to get bored!”

“Thanks?” You shrugged before continuing off to where you knew Peter’s room was, conveniently all the way on the other side of the building from your own. Soon enough you were at Peter’s door, turning the knob and entering without knocking, quick to shut it behind you to prevent anyone else from seeing how eager you were to ‘study.’ Surrounded by the comfortable closed walls of privacy, you let your platonic friend disguise fall and set the stack of papers on the edge of Peter’s bed.

Your boyfriend was still tucked beneath the covers, as was expected. You two had made your marathon plans ages ago and after losing several rounds of rock paper scissors, Peter’s room was made the place of the marathon meaning it was your job to wake him up. Overall you thought it best as you were more natural at lying (literally as you were aided by shape shifting powers) and a little more strategic when it came to social interaction and plotting.

You neared the stirring boy, his sleep disrupted by the clatter of the discs and the movement of his bed as you sat down to kiss him.

“Peterrr…” you whispered, hovering above him with an unshakable grin etched upon your face. “Wake up.”

You awoke him by placing a soft kiss on his nose and smiling down on him as he furrowed his eyebrows in aversion. It wasn’t until his eyes fluttered open that he grinned as he saw you and craned his head up to kiss you properly, his lips soft against yours, slipping a hand up from under the covers to cup your cheek.

“Morning.” he greeted, smiling affectionately as he sat up against the wall behind his pillow, pulling you into his lap so that he could kiss you once more. That was until he took a look at what you had brought, books and paper for studying. He cringed, pulling you closer and kicking up his covers in disgust.

“Oo no. I refuse to study on a Saturday. Can’t we save that for the last minute like every other time we’re together?” his lips turned into a sly grin as they neared yours once more.

You laughed as his complaint sparked many memories, most of you both tangled up together out of what started as procrastination, but ended up in unbridled desire that poured out after being built up each time you were away from one another for too long.

“Nice try, Parker. And here I thought we’d have a nice time today. Don’t you remember our plans?”

As you gesture to the folders and notebook on the edge of his bed they instantly shrunk back to their original form. All of a sudden, instead of the obnoxious red notes and blue folders filled with paperwork were the four DVDs with their easily recognizable covers that screamed nostalgia. Peter’s face lit up instantly, a mix of excitement and relief as his morning amnesia faded away. But even still, his seductive grin returned as he slid you further up his lap.

“We can’t start just a teeny bit later?” he teased, his fingers sending chills down your spine as they glided up the sides of your thighs. One of the downsides of how long you two had been together was that Peter knew exactly how to bend you to his will. “I think I’d rather spend our first morning together a little differently.”

He leaned in for another kiss, but instead of meeting your lips in the middle, his mouth was met with your finger as you pulled away and sat next to him, placing a chaste kiss on his cheek before shuffling into his comforter. It was by luck that your Stark genes made you extraordinarily stubborn and resistant to his persistence.

“Maybe later. Right now I am seriously craving a Hogwarts escape,” you lightly pushed Peter towards the DVDs, hinting that he would have to be the one to pop it into the reader. You teased him as he left his bed, grinning wickedly. “Besides, Harry’s wand is way bigger than yours.”

Peter’s head whipped around as the previews started to roll on the flat screen TV behind him that could be found in every resident room on the campus.

“Hey,” he pouted, though there was still enough of a smile left that you were sure he knew you were only kidding. He settled beside you, tucking an arm behind your head so you could rest on him as you normally did when you shared a room. “It’s hard to compete with 11 inches.”

After skipping through each advertisement for movies that had come out over a decade ago and finally selecting the play option on the movie menu, Peter planted a soft kiss on your forehead as the movie finally began and the familiar notes of the main theme played from the speakers.

“I think you should wake me up like this every morning.” he mumbled into your skin.

“I think that would be nice.” you agreed and nuzzled closer into him.

You two spent the entire first movie just like that, two nerds wrapped up in each other so close that you could hear each other's heartbeats, but so involved in the film that you didn’t get distracted by the distant pulsing of them.

“I think I'd make a great chaser.” you confessed during Harry’s first quidditch game.

“No, I think you’ve got it all wrong,” Peter argued. “I’d make a great chaser. You’d definitely be a beater. I mean legally hitting people off of flying brooms in a competitive wizard sport? If that isn’t right up your alley, I don’t know what is.”

“You’re right.” you agreed right before Harry crash landed into the sand, the golden snitch popping out of his mouth.

It was after the first movie that you started feeling peckish and by the way Peter squirmed to change positions every few seconds, you could tell he was feeling the same. Two hours awake without any food was an abnormal event for you and as a result your stomach was growling loudly. As you had other needs to attend to, you excused yourself and offered to grab the two of you something from the kitchen to snack on during the rest of your marathon.

“I’ll get it babe, you can stay in bed.” Peter offered, sitting up with you as you stood from his bed.

“That’s alright,” you assured him, handing him the disc to the second movie and the sleek black remote that controlled the monitor. “I’ve got to go to the bathroom so I’ll grab it on my way back.”

Peter laid back, his hands coming behind his head on the pillow as he eyed you on your way to the door. You smiled at him in confusion, wondering why he was admiring you so when all you were doing was fetching food.

“What?” you questioned, sliding on a sweatshirt over your pajamas.

“Sometimes I can’t believe we’re together,” he admitted. “You’re way too good for me.”

You giggled at his honesty as you moved towards the door.

“Are you still trying to sleep with me?” you teased.

“No,” he admitted, shaking his head adamantly. “...but I’m not opposed to the idea.”

You rolled your eyes playfully as you turned to leave, chuckling to yourself.

“I’ll be back soon. You can save the sweet talk for then.”

Though you couldn’t see his face, you could picture Peter’s smile as you shut the door behind you and meandered to the bathroom closest to the Avenger’s kitchen before starting towards the food.

As promised, the breakfast feast awaiting you smelled gloriously of hot buttered pancakes, sweet maple syrup, and so many other wonderful items. You prepared a lie to explain Peter’s absence as you entered the kitchen and grabbed a plate, when suddenly, the voice of your dad sounded from behind you.

“Ahh, y/n!” he startled you, causing you to drop your plate back on the stack of white porcelain where you had just barely plucked it from.

“Hi dad,” you forced a smile, turning to face him. “What’s going on?”

“I’ve been looking for you. C’mon, it’s family meeting time.” he stated casually. You realized then that the dining hall was eerily empty for a Saturday morning. The weekly buffet was normally packed with superheroes or at least a starving Thor. You furrowed your brows in confusion, never before having heard of any such meeting as you followed after your father.

“Family meeting? What about breakfast?”

“It can wait. I’ve got something we need to discuss.” you dad explained as he opened the tempered glass door to one of the many meeting rooms at the campus which was normally reserved for more professional causes.

“Okay. I’ll get Peter.”

“No time, come with me. Peter’s not invited to this one.” your father informed you as he grabbed your arm, pulling you with him inside of the meeting room where every chair was already filled by various heroes who also resided at the campus. You gave a small wave to those who cared to acknowledge your arrival and wandered to stand in a corner at the back of the room while your father took up the front. From what you could tell, everyone else was as confused as you were. You pulled out your phone just before it commenced, giving you enough time to shoot Peter a quick text explaining your prolonged absence.

I might be awhile

That’s fine. Take your time.

You fought the urge to smile at your boyfriend’s message as you slipped your phone into your pocket and looked up to your father who was commanding everyone’s attention.

“Thank you for coming, everyone. Really, I appreciate it.”

You recognize a feminine scoff from the right of the table, Natasha shaking her head, a fearful gesture from your main combat trainer. It was a general rule around the Campus, along with don’t introduce Steve Rodgers to ASMR: don’t get Natasha Romanoff angry unless you want to be dead.

“Cut the bullshit Tony. We’re all too tired and hungry to be here for longer than necessary. Get to the point. Why are we here?”

Others voiced their agreement and Tony put his hands up.

“Fine. I prepared a nice little welcome speech for you all, but I guess I’ll skip to my main point. You’re welcome by the way.”

Natasha rolled her eyes.

“The reason I’ve gathered you here today is to discuss a serious matter concerning one of our youngest recruits who I’ve purposefully made sure is not in attendance - ” he stated as he pressed one of the buttons on the controller to the meeting room monitor, the picture popping up on the screen of a face that was all too familiar to you with tousled brown hair and chocolate eyes. “- Mr. Peter Parker.”

Your heart stopped as you heard your boyfriend's name roll off your fathers lips. From a lifetime of knowing him you were sure whatever he wanted to discuss couldn’t be good. You tried your best to not look so shocked and managed to keep a neutral expression as you mirrored Bucky who did not care for the conversation whatsoever. In fact, his expression resembles that of someone who was desperate to deck someone.

“Ah yes! The Man of Spiders!” Thor called out, quite possibly the only Avenger who seemed to be not in the least bit irritated.

“Yep, that’s the one. Here’s the thing,” Tony began as you braced yourself. “It has been two years since he graduated high school. That means he’s had two whole years of college life to get out there and make some new connections, to be a kid! But instead he comes home late every night and is always so exhausted. He’s working way too hard. So I propose that we help our little spiderling find someone he can lean on and turn to. Someone who can really help him slow down and start to be himself. It’s time we help Peter get a girlfriend.”

Your eyes shot open as his words hit you, you had to force your hands to stay down and try not to react too much. You looked around at the reactions of the others, searching for someone who may agree with you, but much to your disappointment, no one seemed as against it as you were. It seemed the topic of helping Peter made the annoyance of the meeting more tolerable and many Avengers were nodding their heads in agreement. Thor especially as he hollered in his seat in clear support.

“Yes! Wonderful idea! A lady spider! Tis like those Midgardean movies that are so popular around this time of year! What do you call them? Wrong-Cons?”

Everyone looked around in confusion.

“Thor is referring to the movie genre of romantic comedies or rom-coms.” Vision explained. With the confusion cleared others started agreeing more.

“Yes, the boy needs a break,” Wanda concurred. “And I love a good rom-com.”

“He works too hard.” nodded Nat.

Others started muttering to their neighbors how they also agreed as you shook your head in utter disbelief.

You pushed off from your place on the wall, quickly gathering the attention of the others as you joined your dad at the front.

“Are you guys crazy?” you laughed nervously. “Peter doesn’t need a girlfriend! Yes, he can be hard on himself sometimes and I agree he needs a break, but that doesn’t mean you should try and shove something in his life that he has never shown any liking towards.” you explain, trying your best to sound as unsuspecting as possible.

Here in the crowd of adults, you were only Peter’s best friend and you wished to keep them in the dark for as long as possible, especially considering your father forbid you from growing a closer connection to Peter.

To your surprise, another Avenger stood to back your point as the Winter Soldier himself took on the crowd.

“She’s got a point, Tony.” Bucky agreed.

“Yes! Thank you!” you smiled, gesturing at Bucky a little too excitedly.

“We shouldn’t force the boy into something if there’s no confirmation of his own interest,” the Winter Soldier restated, earning a nod of encouragement from you. “There’s probably a reason he hasn’t gotten a girlfriend and I think we should leave him to discover himself if you know what I mean.”

“No, no that’s not what I meant,” at once you started refuting his claim. “Peter’s not gay, he’s just not interested in dating.”

“So he’s asexual? Is that what it’s called nowadays?” Steve asked, his tiny notebook of modern definitions at the ready as he pulled a pen from the pocket of his flannel pajama bottoms. He too had only just woken up.

“No. I mean yes that is a real and valid sexual identity and some people don’t have a desire to be with someone romantically, but that’s not Peter. He’s interested, just not right now.”

“How can we trust that the Tiny Stark knows what she says of the Man of Spiders?” Thor quirked a brow at your claims. You nearly blew up at him as he asked, glaring at the rest of the room on the edge of insanity from the thought of them shipping off your boyfriend to be with another.

“I’m his best friend, okay?! And I know him better than any of you so I know for a fact that he doesn’t need a girlfriend right now!”

Your father grasped your shoulder gently, a weak attempt at calming you down.

“That was exactly my next point. You’re his best friend and you’re right. You know him way better than any of us.” your father agreed. You gave him a thankful smile, glad to finally have him on your side.

“Thanks, dad-”

“That’s exactly why you’ll be out intel and our connection to Peter in ‘Operation Pair Parker.’ That way he won’t suspect anything.” he interrupted with a proud expression.

You stared at him with wide eyes.

“You already named it!? You’re kidding right? You have to be kidding. You all know this is just unbelievably crazy right?” you asked the crowd.

“I don’t see a reason why not. It’ll be good for the kid to have someone.” Natasha disagreed and by the disapproving looks from the others, you could tell her opinion was shared by the majority.

“Exactly. See everyone gets it and we need you to carry it all out,” your father continued. “I already have a few people in mind that I can pair him with. The only reason to not to would be if you know something we don’t. Peter isn’t seeing anyone, right y/n?” your father eyed you, suspicious of your relentless attitude towards his thought out plan. You knew you couldn’t own up to it, the risk of discovery was much too great, but that didn’t mean there wasn’t anything you could do to shut down Operation Pair Parker.

“Well, I didn’t want to expose Peter since he’s only just barely told me-” you began, hardly believing the words were leaving your lips. “-but he has been seeing someone and I think it’s getting pretty serious.”

“Oh really? And who is this girl?” your father interrogated.

“Or boy.” Bucky added.

“It’s a girl,” you clarified, hurrying to think of exactly you could pin Peter’s secret relationship on without creating too much damage. “Her name is um, MJ!” you exclaimed as the name came to you. It was perfect too as she was one of your best friends and someone Peter could’ve easily hypothetically gotten with ages ago.

“You mean the overwhelmingly unenthusiastic girl that Peter has only ever talked about once?” You could tell by his raised eyebrow and narrowed eyes that Tony didn’t believe you, but there was still time to convince him. And you would do anything to end this scheme.

“Yep,” you gritted your teeth, letting out a fake laugh that you hoped sounded convincing enough. “That’s the one, good old MJ. You know what they say, opposites attract.”

Tony wasn’t fazed as the intensity of his suspecting expression lingered on.

“You sure he isn’t seeing someone he’s closer to? You’re not dating him right?” he questioned, reminding you of the age old rule. Under no circumstance were you and Peter allowed to see each other. No matter how many battles you had fought together nor how many times he had protected you from harm. Not even if the world was on the brink of collapse. Never.

“Yeah, you’re acting pretty suspicious.” Sam chimed in.

“Is something up, y/n?” wondered Nat.

You burst into nervous laughter as you thought of a plausible excuse and your web of lies deepened.

“Oh, you guys are too good. You’ve got me! I have been seeing someone.”

“I knew it! Lady Stark is with the Man of Spiders!” Thor pointed accusingly towards you.

“You did not know that.” argued Wanda as Thor had been the least suspecting of all the Avengers up until your false confession. It didn’t help that he was also the most gullible.

“No! No, no, not Peter,” you scoffed, choking out a laugh. “His name is um… Flash!”

Your face burned red as you realized who’s name had just slipped out of your mouth. Oh why hadn’t you said Ned? At least you actually enjoyed spending time with Ned. But as your father’s face shifted and your lie began to work, you knew it was too late to go back now.

“Flash? You mean that boy who’s been mean to you and Peter since you were kids?” your father knew exactly who he was through years of his name popping up in counseling sessions Tonty provided to help you figure out how to defend yourself in public without using your powers.

“Yeah. He’s actually really nice once you get to know him and we’ve been together for a little while now.” you tried, changing your voice to match the same doting pitch it took on whenever you talked about Peter.

“Huh,” Tony pondered, but eventually shrugged the confession off as your lies snapped into place. He turned off Peter’s image on the monitor, leaving a blank black square in its place. “Well, in that case, the operation is off.”

“Alright, I guess that means I can go…” you smiled, ready to sneak off to finally grab some breakfast and more hidden moments with your real boyfriend.

“And date night is on!” Tony cheered unexpectedly.

Your eyes widened as your stomach dropped in realization of what you had just done. You and Peter were really in trouble now and it was all because you couldn’t admit the truth.

“Date night?” you repeated uneasily.

“To celebrate my children finding love, I want you both to invite your sweethearts over and we’ll have a big dinner so we can get to know them. Let Peter know he has to invite MJ.” specified your father which could only mean he expected you to invite Flash.

Oh shit. There was no getting out of it now.

“What a splendid idea.” deadpanned Vision who you could’ve sworn knew the truth about you and Peter as his room was next door. You almost glared at the android, but caught yourself.

“Yep, sure thing,” you grimaced, knowing that your lies would soon catch up to you. “And when is this whole thing supposed to be?” you asked, hoping it would be after the break so you and Peter could retreat to your separate schools instead of owning up. By then, you’d probably be able to come up with two break up stories so heart wrenching that the Avengers would understand why you would never want to date again.

“Let’s do tomorrow if we can. The sooner the better.” Tony proclaimed, pulling out his device from his pocket so that he could put the dinner into the following day’s agenda, scheduling it as a mandatory event.

You felt like you were gonna pass out.

“Great! I’ll just go tell Peter then. We’ll be ready!” you fake laughed as you walked off, truly dying inside as the crushing weight of what you had just done hit you.

Once you were out of sight of the Avengers (all of which started voting on what theme your dinner would be), you completely spaced picking up something to eat and sprinted down the hallway to Peter’s room. You stumbled in when you arrived, closing the door behind you and leaning on it, gasping for air from the rush.

“Hey baby,” Peter welcomed you back from his bed, lifting the remote to turn down the TV volume by a couple notches. “I hope you don’t mind, I started the second one, but we can totally rewind if you want…”

Confused by your lack of a reply, Peter looked at you and immediately sat up in bed, ignoring the film with a worry riddled face. The remote fell from his grasp and into the twisted sheets of his bed, never to be found again.

“Are you okay?”

You shook your head as you caught your breath, sliding down the door until you collapsed on the floor.

“No, Peter. Something terrible just happened and it’s all my fault.” you cried and curled to tuck your head into your lap. You weren’t quite to the point of tears, but it was enough distress to alert your boyfriend.

Peter sprung off his bed with a start, swinging his legs to the edge so that he could fully face you, but he was apprehensive about approaching your sullen form.

“Is it your period? Is that why you took so long? I knew I should have come to check on you…”

“No, I’m not on my period and I didn’t spend all that time in the bathroom. This is so much worse than that.” you lifted your head to speak so the words didn’t come out jumbled, but as soon as you had finished, your face returned to your lap.

Peter stood and neared you slowly, placing his hands on your forearms and squeezing you comfortingly as you lifted your head.

“I’m sure it can’t be that bad,” he assured you. “What is it?”

You inhaled deeply before rushing out a summary of the events that had taken place only moments before.

“Long story short, my dad was trying to hook you up with someone because he thinks you're so sad and lonely lately so I tried to get him off your back and now he thinks that you’re dating MJ and I’m dating Flash and we have to invite them to a big dinner with all the Avengers tomorrow.” you sputtered in one breath, gasping by the end.

“WHAT?!”

“I KNOW!”

“How are we supposed to do that? I mean maybe MJ would agree if she were even in town… maybe, but we can’t invite Flash here!”

“I know!”

“Why didn’t you say Ned?!”

“I don’t know! That’s not the point, Peter. What I’m saying is that we need to come up with something fast.”

“I think we should just tell him.” Peter confessed, not one to share your disregard for the truth. Instead, he imagined a future where he could be more open with his teammates about the love you shared, maybe even rub it into Sam and Bucky’s faces as the three held a long standing rivalry since an opposing battle at a German airport. “Better fess up now.”

“NO! Peter, my dad will KILL US if he finds out we’re together!” you shut down his suggestion, too afraid of the consequences to even contemplate telling the truth. “We’ve got to come up with something better, I can’t let him win this.”

“Ugh, you Starks and your stubbornness.” Peter groaned. While he was well informed of your father’s rule, he didn’t understand why the two of you were so competitive, especially when it came to ethicality.

“I just wished there was a way we could pull it off without inviting either of them.” you pouted, staring off into the distance when the scene playing on the screen caught your eye.

The meeting had lasted so long that while you were gone, Peter had managed to watch up to Harry, Ron, and Hermione’s secret potion escapades in the abandoned girls’ bathroom.

“Add the hairs.” directed Hermione as the golden trio sprinkled the strands into their separate goblets of green sludge, so young in only the second film in the saga.

“You're right,” Peter sighed, his attention turning to the movie at the same time as you. “Things would be so much easier if we were wizards and could make Polyjuice Potion.”

Suddenly an idea popped into your head.

“Peter! That’s it! You’re a genius.” you exclaimed, pulling away from his hold and running across the room to his closet, flipping excitedly through his collection of colored flannels.

“Thanks,” Peter blushed, moving to sit on his bed once more. “Why exactly am I a genius this time?”

Your smile widened as you came upon it, Peter’s darkest flannel that distantly resembled something your dear friend MJ would wear. You pulled it on and discarded the hanger, throwing it haphazardly to another corner of the room as you looked at your boyfriend. You beamed at him as if you had just won the lottery. For a skilled liar, stringing together a new fake story was almost as accomplishing.

“Can I borrow this?” you asked.

“Of course,” Peter obliged. “You know how I feel about you wearing my clothes. Can I just ask why this in particular?”

“We can’t ask MJ or Flash to attend themselves so we’ll just have to become them instead!”

“What do you mean?” Peter asked.

You closed your eyes and concentrated, picturing MJ in your mind and spreading your arms out from your body as the familiar tingling sensation started and your body began to change from the will of your shape shifting powers. Before long, you began to resemble the quiet girl from your school. Your hair grew longer and curled into her familiar pattern as your jawline sharpened and your limbs lengthened until the girl standing in front of Peter was no longer his girlfriend, but the one and only Michelle Jones.

You opened your eyes that now resembled her dark brown ones and smiled at him, something MJ would never do. Peter’s own face lit up as he realized what you meant.

“That’s even better than Polyjuice Potion!” he grinned, watching you nod as you looked yourself top to bottom, satisfied with the extent of your abilities.

“I think we can make this work.” you stated, moving towards Peter who was gazing at you with admiration.

“You just need to master her facial expressions. MJ would never smile that much.”

You closed your eyes again and took a deep breath as you let your smile fade away to capture MJ’s unwavering neutrality.

“That’s perfect.” Peter complimented once you had mastered it. You chuckled out of pride as your usual smile carved back onto your face along with an affectionate look as you glanced at Peter. You leaned into him, lips at the ready to peck his perfect pretty face until you were stopped by his outstretched hands.

“What?” you questioned, unused to being denied by your boyfriend.

“As much as I would love to kiss you right now, you still look like one of our best friends.” Peter explained with reddened cheeks.

“Oh right.”

Quickly, you shook off your disguised form and shifted back into yourself. Wrapping your arms around his neck, you kissed Peter and allowed him to pull you in closer by your waist, his hand sneaking up to meet the skin under his flannel. It seemed at last he would get to have his own rendition of a perfect first morning with you.

After a few moments, he lifted away from your lips with a heavy breath to ask, “Does this mean I have to be Flash?”

You sent him a guilty smile.

“Sorry babe, but we’ve gotta do what we’ve gotta do.”

part two coming soon!

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sarahowritesostucky · 3 months

Text

Alpha, Beta (& Omega) Masterlist

Rating: Explicit

Pairing: Steve x Bucky

Tags: a/b/o, arranged marriage, domestic discipline, spanking, head of household, dom/sub elements, alpha Steve, beta Bucky, hurt/comfort, wedding night, alternate history, nobility/royalty au, Edwardian time period, m/f/m poly marriage, enemies to lovers

Summary: To save House Barnes from scandalous ruin, eldest son James must agree to a contracted marriage, accepting Lord Senator Steven Rogers as his Alpha, Husband, and Headship.

A contract of engagement. (Word count: 1066) Teen

A most untoward introduction. (Word count: 2368) Mature

A wedding eve's dinner. (Word count: 1619) Teen

A late morning wedding. (Word count: 1862) Teen

A wedding night. (Word Count 2411) Explicit

A honeymoon. (Word Count 2976) Teen

A honeymoon, cont'd. (Word Count: 3536) Mature

A consummation. (Word Count: 2817) Explicit

A fever (Word Count: 3619) Mature

A consummation, cont'd (Word count: 2928) Explicit

A school reunion (Word count 3449) Teen

A sojourn in London (Word count 2010) Teen

A public scene (Word count 3617) Teen

A Headship's rebuke (Word count 3627) Teen

A dream, a visit, a game (Word count 4823) Explicit

A tour of the continent (Word count 5652) Explicit

Masterlist

@openup-yourmind

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heyitsme1040 · 5 months

Text

Sassy Soup [stucky]

summary : Steve and Bucky come home while you’re making soup. While the boys are causing chaos, you try to remind them that you’re cooking. It doesn’t work out, and now Steve is picking up dinner for the three of you. But that’s fine, you can always make soup tomorrow.

pairings : Steve Rogers x Bucky Barnes x Reader

warnings : None (if I missed anything let me know!)

word count : 550

AO3 (x)

a/n : Day twenty-seven of Comfortember is here! The prompt was ‘soup’.

“It’s way too cold,” Bucky’s voice came from the entryway.

“I told you to put on more than just a shirt and your leather jacket,” Steve replied.

You shook your head, chuckling at their antics. You heard some loud thumps from the hallway. Before you could ask what was happening, Bucky was briskly moving through the kitchen with Steve hot on his heels. Bucky stood behind you with his arms around your waist, gently guiding the two of you so he stood in the corner with you securely against his front. Steve stood directly in front of you, playfully glaring at the brunette behind you.

“Careful of the lady, punk,” Bucky’s voice taunted.

You slightly raised your hand, about to interject between their dispute, “Um, I need to–”

Steve scoffed in response to Bucky’s taunt, “Really? ‘Careful of the lady’ when you’re the jerk that pulled her into this.”

“I really should–” you pointed to the pot on the stove.

“I can’t help that she’s so irresistible. I couldn’t stand not being around her any longer,” Bucky tried to sweet talk.

“The stove–” you spoke up, looking at the pot you heard boiling.

“So you just wanted to hug her, then? This has nothing to do with–” Steve cut himself off, startled.

The pot on the stove had boiled over. Bucky pulled you to stand behind him, standing in a way to shield you while still being alert. You pouted, upset the soup you had been making for dinner was no longer going how you’d hoped. You stepped around Bucky, past Steve, and turned off the burner. With your hands protected by oven mitts, you moved the pot off of the still-hot burner. No longer on the heat, the soup quickly stopped boiling. You looked at the separated soup, disappointed it wasn’t salvageable.

“There goes dinner,” you murmur, stirring the pot one last time. When the burned chicken that was stuck to the bottom reached the surface of the separated cream base, your shoulders sagged further.

“I’m sorry doll,” Bucky spoke up, turning you to face him. He bent his knees to level his eyes with yours, “I didn’t mean to ruin dinner.”

“Yeah,” Steve kissed your temple while placing his arm across your shoulders, “We were just joking around. And it went too far. We’re sorry.”

Bucky nodded, keeping his gaze on your face.

“I know,” you tell them, “and it’s okay. I was just looking forward to trying a new recipe. I can always try again,” you smiled slightly.

“Tomorrow,” Steve suggested. “Buck and I will go with you to the store and get everything for the soup.”

“And we’ll help with whatever you need to make it,” Bucky chimed in. “That way it won’t take as long.”

“Thanks you two,” you kissed each of them on the cheek in turn.

Steve picked you up and carried you to the living room. Bucky sat on the couch before Steve set you on the cushion. Bucky guided you to lay down with your head in his lap, running his fingers through your hair.

“I’ll be right back,” Steve said as he walked back toward the entryway. “I’m gonna go pick us up some of that Thai food up the road.”

“That sounds great,” you call out to him.

Author's Note : Reblogs are appreciated, likes are welcome, and if you want to read more of my fics then maybe follow.

©heyitsme1040 If you find this post on any platform under a username different than heyitsme1040 it is not their work.

#fanfiction #fanfic blog #fanfiction writer #comfortember 2023 #comfortember #comfort fic #marvel fanfiction #marvel #stucky x reader #stucky fanfiction #domestic fluff #stucky #james bucky buchanan barnes #james buchanan barnes #steve rogers

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buckybarnesisdaddy · 3 months

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Winter’s Widow

You are a former Black Widow who has been in hiding for years. You have made amends and have dealt with the guilt of your past. You are no longer the pawn you used to be, but you still remember everything from that time. You trained alongside Natasha and used by Hydra and became one of their most trusted assassins. Not wanting to hurt anyone, you run away with the help of your former trainer, partner, and love of your life, Bucky Barnes, aka the Winter Soldier. But things don’t go as planned, and you end up going into hiding with the help of an old friend. The world was left in shambles after the Snap and Hydra started to grow again. The Blip doubled their numbers, and they are looking to control the world's governments yet again, and to do so, they require their best operative... you.

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5

A/N- This story contains sexually explicit scenes. Every scene is written with the purpose of showing the love, attraction, and bond these characters have and how that love is unshakeable, even through the ups and downs of life. These scenes are not written lightly although they have a fun and carefree feel sometimes. Each chapter will come with warnings, please read them!! If that bothers you please do not read! MINORS DNI.

Dividers by: @firefly-graphics

Book cover and collages made by me. 🥰

Tag list: @hisredheadedgoddess28 @cadencejames87 @cjand10 @janineb86 @jessieasher1616 @georgiapeach30513 @theinheriteddutchess @rainydayandmondays

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes smut #sebastian stan #daddy #bucky barns x reader #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barns fanfiction #smut #domestic fluff #winter soldier x reader #winter soldier smut #chris evans #steve rogers smut #the avengers

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bucky-bucket-barnes · 1 year

Note

GASP wait!! now that buck and the reader are living together, can we get a look at them having a cleaning day too? 🥹 buck waking up to OLDIES BLARING AND THE VACUUM CLEANER BLASTING DOWN THE DAMN HALLWAY AND READER BUSTS IN AND TELLS HIM TO START WIPING DOWN THE KITCHEN im ethnic so 🤷🏽‍♀️

cleaning your apartment with bucky

most days had a calm start now that bucky was living with you; he was either gently woken up by the sun or a soft shake of his shoulder

well, except for cleaning days

bucky wasn't scared of much, but on cleaning day? you made him nervous with your intensity sometimes

eyelids peeling wide open to the sound of upbeat oldies playing, the sheer volume shook the room as you walked in

"listen, doll, i don't know who lauryn hill is, but can she wait until 10 a.m. maybe :)" / "no"/ ":( " / "now grab a rag, that counter won't clean itself :)"

there was truly never a dull moment with bucky, even when doing such menial tasks as cleaning

he's always ready to help which is great but fuck is he dense sometimes

"five bucks and i'll drink that right now" / "are you talking about the floor cleaner, bucky?" / "yeah" / "no" / "you're telling me you don't want to know what that tastes like?" / "N O" / "huh, and you say i'm the old man here"

surprisingly, bucky had a knack for cleaning, some would even say a passion for it

"you've been shining the fridge for 15 minutes, i think you're good, barnes" / "doll, i come from a time where everything had lead in it, nothing is ever really 'good'" / "do you just spend all day worrying about how much lead there is in everything? do you not get tired?" / "oh, no, it's exhausting and i'm always stressed"

like he took it really seriously

"now that we're done, wanna have some fun ;)" / "like sex?" / "yes, bucky, i'm talking about sex" / "but i just washed the sheets" / ". . ." / "we can try it standing" / "omg"

you couldn't really complain, though, he was great help and he made moving furniture a lot easier

like that one time you lost the remote control

"have you seen the control, bucky?" / "no, but i can help look" / ". . ." / ":)" / "are you. . . are you lifting the couch up right now" / "yes" / "with me still on it" / "yes, doll" / "i'm both impressed and aroused, well done" / "does that mean we can try that standing idea now?" / "bucky!"

the best part was when you'd take all the warm blankets out the dryer and fall asleep, cocooned together in a pile of warmth <3

#waking up to my mom blasting keyshia cole brought back memories omg #bucky barns x reader #bucky barnes fanfic #bucky barnes headcanon #domestic!bucky #domestic!bucky x reader #bucky barnes #bucky barnes fluff #bucky barnes blurb #bucky barnes x poc!reader #bucky barnes x female!reader #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes fanfiction #soft!bucky #soft!bucky x reader

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emmis15 · 22 days

Text

Domestic Affairs with Bucky Barnes

―I used to cut my father's hair while he was working in the lab, so I know what I'm doing― Cass said as she placed a towel over my shoulders and covered my chest.

It was time for a haircut. Steve had told me, Sam had told me, and Natasha had laughed at me because I couldn't always have it in my eyes, and I was fed up with it. Besides, Dr. Raynor had said that maybe a change in my appearance would help me think outside the box and do some exposure therapy to deal with crowded spaces or being touched by unknown beings. I wasn't comfortable with that, and since I urgently needed someone to help me, I reluctantly asked mini Stark for help.

―Just… do it quickly, I don't want to be here for too long― I said uncomfortably.

I looked in the mirror of my bathroom and saw her with a small empathetic smile, touching my metal shoulder, which made me feel worse. It wasn't a part of my body that I loved.

―I want you to know that if you feel pressured or have any horrible Hydra flashbacks while I'm cutting or using the machine, you need to tell me to stop because it won't be good for you to keep that to yourself. Trust me, I know from experience― she said, looking at me through the mirror.

I nodded with little confidence, but we were already here, and I wasn't going to let anyone I didn't know touch me.

―Tell me about what you've learned about the new world recently― she said, wetting my hair with a sprayer, and my skin quickly became goosebumps. I sighed, closing my eyes.

―Steve has been showing me music or the one he started delving into modernity with, but I still prefer 40s music.

I felt the metal blades against my nape, and I was momentarily startled, but Cass's free hand gripped my shoulder, tapping or making patterns to keep me calm, something she did to herself sometimes when there were loud noises or her father talked about her time in Hydra as an experiment. She played with her metal heart-shaped pendant on her chest.

―¿What music did he show you? ¿Pop? ¿Rock? ¿Hip-hop? ¿Rap?― she asked, very concentrated as she cut. I could feel my long hair falling to the floor.

―He showed me a band, Nirvana, ¿maybe? He likes them a bit, but I don't know. I have to listen to more things― I said with a grimace.

―Their albums are on Spotify. Dad kind of likes Nirvana, and I'm okay with their lead singer― she said, her tongue sticking out, too busy to connect my gaze with hers in the mirror.

―¿Is Spotify that round black and green thing in every room of the house?― I asked, confused. I had been trying to be explained things like the screens in every room or the circles that, when touched, showed other things, but it was still hard to grasp.

She let out a amused laugh, stopping cutting my hair to grab the modern version of my flip phone. She liked old things but with a new version for this time, or so she kept telling me when I asked her how a young and beautiful girl could kiss and love an old and broken man like me.

Leaving the scissors on the sink and talking to the house's robot, an old 40s song began to play. I didn't like it much, but it was nice, and I liked how she swayed her hips, resuming work and humming a few things.

―You'll hear the songs that have been left in your personal music registry by Steve and some songs of mine with certain similarities in melody or tempo, so you can find new things without leaving your comfort zone― my hair was getting shorter, and the time to use the machine was approaching, but Cass's sweet and calm voice was like a fog to my mind.

―I still prefer record players― I said.

She laughed again.

―Of course you do― she said, putting the scissors on the white marble and resting her forearms on my shoulders. ―¿What do you think? ¿Shall I start cutting with the machine or leave it like this?"

She asked me, looking into my eyes through the mirror with a little smile.

―Shorter, nothing behind the ears, and little hair on the face― I said confidently.

She smiled and gave me a small kiss on the cheek before stepping away from me and grabbing the machine carefully.

―Let's go carefully, ¿okay? If you feel pressured, if you don't like it, if the noise is too much, we can stop whenever you want― she lightly massaged my shoulders.

I nodded carefully, sighing and closing my eyes and staying with the soft sound of the guitar and violins playing in the bathroom. Cass's soft voice singing along with the woman in the song trying to distract me from the sound of the machine so close to my head was comforting.

―It's called 'The Lakes.' It's from a very calm and deep album by Taylor, the blonde girl I have plastered all over my room― she said near my ear with a calm voice.

―¿The one you spent making bracelets and made me one?

―Exactly, you'll like this album. It's very calming and has very beautiful lyrics, and it helps you sleep because of how sweetly she sings. I have the vinyl, so someday, when you have nightmares, we'll listen to it.

―I always have nightmares.

―And that's why we're going to listen to it tonight― she kissed the top of my head before turning me around to face her.

Both of us face to face, her eyes shining with excitement with the machine in hand, and for a moment, I remembered that thing passing by me, and I didn't even feel it.

―I have to tap ahead, so I need you to be very still and calm, ¿okay? You can hold onto my waist if something scares you― she grabbed my chin with a smile on her face.

―It's okay, Doll, I promise.

She stopped looking at me and focused on cutting the front part of my hair while my arms were around her hips, watching her from below. Her concentration was the same as when she used to create her machines or when she did things in her laboratory, so she was taking her work very seriously.

―I vaguely remember my mother cutting my hair when I was little― I said, looking at her.

―That's sweet, Buck. For a long time after Daddy rescued me from Hydra, I couldn't get near anything sharp because I wanted to end my life on Earth, so when they had to cut my hair, Dad and Adriana, his assistant, would put on Disney movies for me, and both of them would cut my hair― she hummed a few lines of the song from before from time to time.

She suffered for three years what I did for 50 years, but we were still at the same level of pain and trauma. She was very young, a preteen, and she was already a killing machine, and they not only messed her up mentally but physically with that star on her chest and putting cables instead of veins.

―I'm sorry.

―Buck, everyone has their response to the situation. Mine was wanting to throw myself out the window because of the pain, but now I'm better and ready to help you in everything― she bent down to kiss my lips carefully before turning me around to look at her in the mirror.

It didn

't turn out bad at all; she had talent for this, and it showed by how proud she was of her work.

―I like it, I thought it would look worse― I said surprised as I approached the mirror to see myself; it was weird to see myself with short hair, although I didn't dislike it.

She looked at me incredulously, but it didn't last long as that proud smile appeared on her face again.

―I'm glad you like it, Buck, and I'm very proud of you for overcoming another fear today. You were very brave with me― she looked into my eyes through the mirror before leaving a kiss on my head.

―Thank you, Doll.

―It was a pleasure, my love.

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cosmos-coma · 1 year

Text

Metal's Delicate Touch - Part 1

A/N: Hello! I'm branching out into another Fandom! Likely its just gonna be for this one character, but I'm excited to share another character I'm passionate about!

Pairing: Bucky Barnes X Reader

Words: 2.7k

Warnings: Blood and injury (Nothing terrible), Hurt reader, Reader gets mugged, I think that's all? let me know if I missed.

Summary: Bucky saves you from a mugging gone bad and is instantly pulled in by your warmth and compassion

_________________________

A roughened hand clamped itself over your mouth as grubby fingers rifled through your pockets.“When I asked you to stop, you really should have just stopped, sweetheart.” Your mugger spat as his number two pocketed everything you had on you.

These two men had followed you around the market for a while then towards your shitty little hostel. Eventually, they called out for you, chasing and cornering you in a blocked-off alley after you tried to run.

You had made to scream out for help, but your mugger immediately pulled out a gun from his heavy jacket, fitted with a silencer and everything.

They were not messing around.

As you struggled against the hands of your assailants you spotted a man walking past the occupied alley. His shoulders were broad and strong, evident even through his leather jacket. His shoulder-length hair and his baseball cap covered most of his profile, which was pulled down low in an obvious show of ‘don’t fucking talk to me’.

But you had no choice.

You bit down hard on the hand covering your mouth, blood instantly hitting your tongue. You did your best not to gag on the vile taste and screamed as soon as the hand pulled away. “Help me! Please! Hel-” and you were cut off as his hand clamped over your mouth once again.

“You little fucking bitch-” He seethed, pressing the gun against your thigh and pulling the trigger, the sound cushioned by both the silencer and your soft flesh that even you barely heard it over your heartbeat. Though muffled by his hand, your scream strained your throat with all its ferocity and pain. Tears welled in your eyes as your brain swam with newly radiating pain, but your eyes still searched for the man in the baseball hat.

You struggled to keep your bleary eyes open and your heart fell when you no longer saw him. Did he leave? Did he even hear you?

Heavy tears fell as your eyes screwed shut and another wave of pain like malevolent electricity ran through your limbs as you tried to shift your weight under their grasp.

“Hey-” Was all you heard your mugger say as his weight was thrown away from you. A resounding THUD bounced off the walls as his body did just the same. Brick bit against your skin as you slid along the wall to the ground, your single good leg no longer having the energy to support you.

More thuds and grunts came from the space before you and as you peeked open your eyes you saw the man in a baseball cap beating the shit out of your assailants. His punches were sharp and skilled, and his entire demeanor seemed glazed over as he got lost in the blood and grunts.

“That’s enough..! That's fine..!” you yelled, not wanting to see their deaths, and his whole disposition changed in an instant. His square shoulders softened at the edges and his fists loosened as he turned to face you. You had never seen two men run so fast as your muggers did when they saw him distracted, turning their bruised and bloody tails as they ran.

His face was mostly shadowed as he scooped up your stolen items, though his eyes just shone through the darkness, promising the most striking gaze you had ever seen.

He extended a hand to you wordlessly as he approached, an invitation for his further help and you were glad to take it.

You griped his hand tight and started pulling yourself to your feet, “Thank you so much, I- Ah..! Fuck, Fuck hold on…” you loosened your grip on his hand, dropping back to the ground. Your hands instantly went to your leg wound, feeling the hot blood that had seeped out as you strained to stand.

“I- I don’t think I can stand on my own. I’m sorry, um… I’ll figure something out.” You glanced at your surroundings, trying desperately to come up with a good solution. Your knight in a baseball cap watched you quietly for a moment before he reached down to you again, both arms this time as he effortlessly scooped you up bridal style.

“Oh..!” you gasped in surprise but held tight to him with your arms around his neck. “Thank you… You can just drop me at any hospital and I’ll greatly appreciate it. I don’t wanna be a bother,” you offered. His grip on you tightened as you suggested he dropped you off, as you suggested that he leave you.

He couldn't put a word on exactly what it was that made his stomach lurch at the thought of dropping you off with a bunch of strangers. Strangers who would undoubtedly hurt you and ruin the fine but subtle scent you gave off. It was your scent of damp moss and sweet gardenias which made his heart feel a softness he feels he knew only in another lifetime.

Your slight wince drew him out of his deep well of thought and he quickly loosened the grip of his ungloved hand which was squeezing far too close to your open wound.

Despite his prominent objections, you could only get a low grunt out of him as he shook his head and continued his steadfast journey. “Can I at least know where we’re going then?” you asked, being met with even less of a reply.

The journey was quiet as he carried you to an old apartment building, your arms resting comfortably around his neck as he carried you up the winding stairwell and into a small apartment.

It was rather bare for the most part, with only the necessities and no items to show comfort or leisure- only survival. Your eyes bounced around from object to object, a book or two, simple cookware, and a couple of small guns. The last of which should have given you more pause, but you figure if he wanted you dead, he’d have left the other guys do it- so it must be for protection.

“Do you have a name? I’m not really fond of joining men in their apartments without at least knowing their name first.” You mused as he set you down on the all-too-firm bed, the faintest wince of discomfort as the foreign object in your leg moved with you.

At first, you weren't sure if he heard you as his attention immediately became consumed by searching around the apartment. You waited a few moments before you asked again. “I’d rather not just call you ‘handsome stranger’ for the rest of our time.” you laughed awkwardly, trying to lighten the intense mood that seemed to cling to this man no matter what. “Is there something I can call you-”

“They...” his first hints at a spoken word had you immediately silenced, desperate to hear if his voice matched the brooding exterior he put off. He came back with a white box, setting it down beside you before he pulled his hat off. His blue eyes were just as striking as promised and searched your face for something neither of you could name.

“They… They called me James once.” his voice rumbled out, raspy and quiet from its limited use. The vibrations of his husky voice put you at ease, despite his intense stare which you found yourself quickly growing accustomed to.

A small smile grew on your face as you introduced yourself, “Well thank you for saving my life, James.” Something drew you to reach out for him, just for the lightest touch, the gentlest graze- but when his whole body flinched back you quickly withdrew your hand. “I’m sorry, I-”

“No.” He quickly interjected, those vibrant blues locking with your eyes, “Don’t apologize.”His weight shifted a bit- as if he was trying to hold everything in in your presence.

“And don't thank me yet-” He started as he opened up the white box, only now noticing that one of his hands was hidden away in a leather glove. Medical tweezers, alcohol pads, stitches- almost every possible at-home medical instrument you could think of was stocked into this kit. “-the bullet still needs to come out.”

Oh fuck. You had almost let yourself forget about the bullet still lodged in your leg and the blood that still slowly seeped out over your pants. “Fuck… okay.” you nodded, understanding exactly what he needed from you.

His eyes watched with a growing hunger that he quickly fought down as you tried to shimmy out of your pants- eventually resorting to asking him for help. A buzz ran over his skin as he made that first contact- calloused fingertips pressing against the supple skin of your upper thighs and dragging slowly down the length of your legs.

With little hesitance, he knelt down between your spread legs, his shoulder to you as he lined himself up for the best angle. His gloved hand gripped behind your knee to hold you in place and inadvertently sent a jolt straight to your core.

‘Not now’ you shunned your body.

“Bite this.” He instructed and handed you the cap he had just been wearing.

“What’s this fo-AH!” You yelped out, immediately bitting down on the brim of the hat, as the long medical tweezers he had dug around your flesh for the bullet in question. You did your best to keep quiet, not wanting to alert the neighbors but it was hard.

Your whimpers echoed around the room to him, bouncing from the wall to his ears in an endless pained cycle. “James, wait- please… I need a break,” you begged as your hands, tense and desperate for something to hold, naturally found their place in his hair.

You didn’t have the mind about you to notice the way he flinched when your fingers touched him, nor the way he softened soon after he realized how gentle you were still trying to be. Even with your immense pain you didn’t jerk his head back or dig your nails into his scalp- no, you tugged and clenched your fingers around his long hair, but still never had the heart to hurt him.

Practiced hands eventually pulled the crushed metal out with a disgusting squelch. A relieved and breathy sigh passed by your parted lips as it was finally done and your hands came away from him.

“Good girl…” he spoke it quietly, just enough for you to hear and for it to stop your heart for what felt like minutes, stirring you once again. He took surprising care and delicacy as he continued to clean and wrap your leg until you were fully taken care of.

With a grunt you carefully rose to your feet, hobbling around the apartment as you tested out your leg- you could barely put any weight on it, but it would do for now. “I don’t know how I can ever thank you enough… “ you said as you watched him pack everything away again.

“Well, you could… stay?” His voice came quietly as if he was almost ashamed to ask you for so much, but he needed this- needed you. “At least until your leg is healed…” he urged, hoping you’d at least agree to baby steps with him.

“I…” you started, searching his face carefully, trying to read each and every crease, though you were no expert- not like he was. However, what you did catch was the evident yearning. Innocent and true, the way a child yearns for their crush to sit next to them at lunch. It was a look behind his eyes that said ‘I can’t be alone now that I’ve found you’.

You could use the help as you healed… and your hostel was far worse than this. Something about the firm but gentle way he held you surrounded you with a sense of safety you’d rather not give up so easily. Not to mention those handsome eyes that made your heart flutter in your chest.

“I’ll stay” you nodded, smiling a bit at the way his lips just curled up at the ends, the most emotion you had seen from him yet.

He didn’t let you hobble for very long before he was urging you to sit down and rest. You obliged but still did your best to stay close, sitting on the counter as dinner was made and stealing bites here and there. You smiled at the way he relentlessly shooed you away each time, eventually resorting to gently thwapping your hand with the sauce-laden spoon.

His smile grew as you licked the sauce off your hand and hummed along to the jovial beat the radio sang, your fingers still searching for more bites to steal. Your warmth seemed to light up the entire room as you simply existed beside him and he could feel even the shadiest corners of himself become a little easier to look into.

After dinner, your body was begging you to sleep after its incredibly long say and you weren’t one to deny it. Instantly you were out like a light, Your sleeping form sprawled out on your side of the thin mattress.

Bucky watched your chest rise and fall evenly as you let out slow puffs of breath. Your shirt had ridden up to expose your soft belly and the gentle curve of your hips. Your underwear was the only true cover your lower half had, the bandages having bunched and protested as you tried to re-dress.

He knelt beside you, eyes transfixed on the little signs of life you gave out. The breaths, the tiny movements against the sheets, and the steady beat of your heart all came together to form a melody unlike that of any other.

He peeled off the glove from his metal hand and reached out slowly, hesitantly, until his fingers just barely grazed your lower stomach. You let out a short quick gasp as the cold metal made itself known on your skin, causing him to instantly flinch backward.

When you settled and didn’t stir any further he knew it was safe to go in again. His touch was a little more confident as he ran his fingers from stomach to hip, loving the way your soft flesh bowed to his touch.

His heart swelled in his chest as you let out a gentle huff, your hand coming to rest over his as you shifted in your sleep. Racing heartbeats rushed passed his ears, the only sensation he could take in besides the sleepy expression on your lips. Patiently he worked his way out of your grip, making sure not to disturb your sleep.

And with that, a sense of purpose returned to him that day- a lifelong mission if you will- to ensure you would never lose such peace again.

_____________________

Taglist: @writingmysanity (thanks for always supporting me dear!)

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lillywillow · 1 year

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Pets and Their Humans

Summary: You can’t help notice the similarities between Bucky and Alpine

Written for: @buckybarnesbingo

Words: 811

Square Filled: K1- Mirror Image

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Gender Neutral Reader

Warnings: None

You weren’t sure exactly when you first noticed it but Bucky and his cat shared a lot of similarities. It was the way they both had piercing blue eyes that would stare into your soul. They had the same judgemental sass face. If Alpine were human, you could imagine her talking trash about someone with a glass of wine in her hand. If Bucky were a cat, you could imagine him getting into places he shouldn’t with the same “What are you going to do about it?” look Alpine sometimes gives. There was also a certain spot under the chin they liked to be tickled that just melted them in your hands. You adored the both of them.

…

One afternoon, you came into the living room where Bucky and Alpine were taking a nap on the couch. The cat was in a ball on your boyfriend’s chest, both looking so sweet and peaceful. You took a picture of them before giving them both a kiss on the top of the head, feeling guilty as they both woke up.

“I’m sorry, my darlings. You can go back to sleep now,” you cooed.

They both gave you a sleepy look before stretching at the same time.

“Do you want lunch now?” you asked.

“Mm, I could eat,” Bucky shrugged.

Alpine gave a sleepy little meow. You couldn’t help but smile at them.

“Do you need any help?” Bucky asked, from the couch.

He had been so busy lately that the poor man was exhausted.

“I’ve got it, baby. You rest up with Alpine,” you smiled.

Alpine didn’t really need a rest but she brought Bucky happiness and that was enough for you. As you made lunch, you occasionally looked in on the two of them. Bucky was gently patting Alpine’s soft fur and speaking to her.

“Isn’t Y/N great, Alpine? We’re so spoilt, yes we are,” he cooed.

The cat looked quite content on his lap. A funny thought entered your head. You imagined a world where the roles were reversed. Alpine as an elegant woman with silky white hair and Bucky as a scrappy tabby cat that she found on the street. Perhaps he lost his arm in an accident and needed it replaced… Would you fit into this little world? Would you be Alpine’s partner or would you be a cat like Bucky? The thought made you giggle out loud.

“Something funny, doll?” Bucky called from the couch.

“It’s nothing. Just thinking something silly,” you replied, bringing his lunch to him, with something for Alpine.

“I like silly things…”

You smiled and shook your head.

“I was just thinking… you and Alpine are so similar; it would be funny if the roles were reversed…”

Bucky blinked in surprise.

“Alpine and I… are not that similar…” he slowly stated.

“Oh, yeah?” you grinned, tickling the spot under his chin.

Bucky started purring just like Alpine would, making you giggle.

“See? Alpine likes this too,” you grinned.

“That doesn’t prove anything,” Bucky pouted.

“It’s one thing. You also have the same judgemental stare…”

“I don’t have a judgemental stare,” he huffed.

“Yeah, you do, hon. Remember that thing Sam suggested?”

“Well, that was just stupid,” Bucky huffed, turning his nose up.

“There it is… I swear I saw Alpine give me the same look when I tripped and fell over my shoelaces the other day.”

Bucky looked at Alpine who gazed back at him in return. Could this cat really be his feline equivalent? The evidence sure was stacking up…

“You also both have beautiful blue eyes, you both walk that strut…”

“There’s something else that we share in common,” Bucky stated.

“And what’s that?”

“We both love you,” he softly smiled.

“Aww… I love you both too,” you smiled back.

Alpine meowed in agreement. She may not have really understood the words you were saying but she felt the love. You gave her a kiss and kissed Bucky’s cheek too.

“You know that thing they say about pets and their owners…”

“That they become identical after a while?” Bucky asked.

“Exactly. It’s not a bad thing. It just means you share a special bond…”

“I guess we do,” Bucky mused, picking up a piece of string for Alpine to play with.

The feline bapped at it with her paw and tried to pounce on it as Bucky dragged it along the ground. You smiled at your boyfriend and his kitty counterpart. Or was it Alpine and her human version? Either way, the pair of them were so much alike, it was no secret they found each other. They fit together like puzzle pieces. You loved them both very much.

#Bucky Barnes #buckybarnesbingo2022 #bbb2022 #buckybarnes #bucky barnes x reader #Alpine #Pets and Their Humans #Mirror Image #Marvel #marvel fic #marvel fanfiction #marvel one shot #bucky barnes fluff #domestic life

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steevbuckk · 1 year

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FAVORITE STUCKY FICS | 35/100

series Never Let You Go by @portraitofemmy & @girl3wonder

[Kid Fic, 68 334 words, Explicit]

Summary:

Tired of being kept awake at night by a screaming baby, Bucky decides to take matters into his own hands. Mostly he wants a good night's sleep, but what he gets is a beautiful baby boy with big blue eyes, a lonely father trying to move on from tragedy, and a chance at a family he never expected to have.

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cricket-reader · 1 year

Text

You Got It Easy

Masterlist | A03 | Wattpad | Recommendations | Inbox

Summary: Whilst in an argument, Bucky says something that he will always regret.

Warnings: language, injuries, canon level violence, death, Bucky’s kind of a jerk, female reader, past/child abuse/torture, past sexual assault (implied)

Word Count: 3,396

A/N: Idea brought to me by @whumppromptoftheday

Bucky and you weren’t close by any means. He was just another member of the newly formed Avengers, and you didn’t mind keeping it that way. Sure, you had a lot in common, but he didn’t seem like the kind of person who would trauma bond.

It was your first time going on a mission with him. He was as broody as Sam said he was. Also the staring thing, that was also pretty accurate. You could practically feel the distaste rolling off of his body. You never did anything, yet he looked at you as if you caused all his problems.

Before both of you got ready to leave, he grabbed your bicep and muttered, “I wanted to do this alone. Don’t get in my way.”

Without another word he dropped down without a parachute. Rolling your eyes at his dramatics, you followed his lead—with a parachute because you weren’t an idiot with a death wish.

He had already begun to abandon you when you were getting rid of your parachute. Huffing in frustration, you had to run to keep up with his long strides.

Once you got into the base, things would get better. Or at least you hoped so. Just a simple get in, get out and head to the safe house not far from there.

It was cold and damp. There were spots of blood on the floor, some big splotches and others were just little drops.

Since it was labelled as inactive, you both had figured that it would be a low pressure mission. How wrong you both were.

The first shot nearly gave you a heart attack. Never in your life had you ducked so quickly. Good thing for that too, or it would be your blood on the floor.

You could hear your partner curse ahead of you as he pulled out his gun. Another shot rang out, this time from Bucky. It hit the target square in the chest. Probably enough to kill him.

“Don’t get killed,” he ever so helpfully grumbled your way. You just rolled your eyes and brushed off your trousers. Thus far, you weren’t liking that attitude of his.

You did notice, however, that he stayed closer to you now that you both knew about the threat there was. You wished you could chalk it up to him actually caring about you, but you figured he just didn’t want to deal with a sad Sam and all the paperwork he’d have to fill out.

Pausing in your steps, you heard the familiar sound of boots against concrete. They were coming down the stairs and fast. Bucky must have noticed that too, given his tense stance. As soon as the door opened, hellfire reigned loose. Both you and Bucky shot the ones you could, leaving the rest to sneak up from behind.

You saw a man coming for Bucky and shot him clean in the forehead. “Don’t get killed,” you huffed out. Was that petty? Sure. Was it worth it? Hell yeah.

“Fuck!” You cursed, feeling a sharp pain in your side. Someone nicked you with a bullet, that much was obvious.

Shrugging it off, you resumed fighting until all the men were down. Holstering your gun, you made sure that your grumpy partner was still alive and scowling. He was, not to your surprise.

You both made your way into the room where they kept the information and decided to split up. You had communication devices if you needed each other. What was the worst that could happen?

Inserting the USB into the machines, you made sure to transfer all the files to it. The door burst open, and you caught sight of some more goons. Sighing, you left your position to kick some ass.

The men were clearly strong and well-trained. That much you could tell from their stance. They weren’t, however, the most wise, which didn’t come as a surprise.

The first man to throw a punch was obviously eager. You dodged it easily and threw a punch back at him. It didn’t do much, considering that he was practically towering over you and packing with muscles. Unfortunately you weren’t quick enough to dodge the second hit. Pain erupted in your jaw and you could taste the copper from the blood that was pooling in your mouth.

Not wasting any time, you hit him back hard. The satisfying crunch of bones reverberated through your mind as your fist met his nose. Blood began seeping out of his nostrils as he cursed.

You spit the blood from your mouth and geared up for more, when someone grabbed you from behind. Grunting and squirming, you tried to get out of his grasp, but he had a tight hold on you.

“Let’s get this bitch to boss, I’m sure he’ll enjoy this little spitfire.”

You yelled in anger at his comment as you flung your head back to hit his face. His arms instantly loosened and you quickly used that to your advantage. You kicked the man and punched him in the jaw, ready to be done with this mission as soon as possible.

You froze when you heard your name.

A sickening feeling grew in your gut as your mind reeled. He was dead. He was supposed to be dead. You saw him die yourself.

Turning, you saw the man that haunted your days standing in front of you. He wore his typical suit, looking put together and handsome as ever—not to you though. His looks were lost on you ever since that fateful day.

“I can’t believe you’re back, darling. God, how I’ve missed you!” He smiled joyously. As if he were happy to see the person that tried to kill him. He must have noticed the confusion on your face, for he began to speak again.

“I know it must be confusing for you, but did you really think that you could get rid of me that easily? I own you.”

You shivered at his words, tears gathering in your eyes. You felt like you were a kid again. A kid that was at the mercy of a cruel man. His little puppet to do what he pleased.

“No… no… you… you’re,” you couldn’t form words. All of the strength you felt whilst beating that man up, vanished. You were suddenly back in that room. Back in that abhorrent white room. A frightened child.

He moved closer to you while you were distracted. He brushed some hair that had fallen loose behind your ear. You didn’t even flinch. Just as you were trained. “It’s time to come home, my little butterfly.”

A rush of white hot rage flooded your body. How could he stand there knowing what he did to you? How dare he touch you as if you were his to touch? You grabbed his hand and twisted it. His wrist practically broke with the pressure you were applying. Within seconds, he called his goons to help him. He was always dependent on others to do his dirty work for him. And he didn’t want to directly harm his little butterfly.

Fists collided with your body as you tried to fight them off. Somewhere in the fight there was a knife that ended up tearing through your skin. A scream resounded through the air, chilling the boss.

“Don’t damage her, you fools!” He yelled. His precious butterfly may have been naughty, but he could fix you. He had many times before. He just had to break you again, remind you who’s in charge.

The men didn’t listen and continued to attack you. The knife met your flesh again and sent a searing pain to your torso.

You didn’t register the resonating sound of bullets until all the men around you were lying dead. A hard-faced Bucky at the door, gun in hand. He looked at your trembling body and cursed under his breath. He knew he should have done this mission alone.

You looked over to see the man that haunted you bleeding out. If Bucky weren’t there, you’d probably cry. Bucky, however, was very much in the same room as you, and you didn’t need any more of a reason for him to think you were weak.

Getting off the ground, you grunted in pain. You could feel his eyes on you as you took out the USB that now had all the files stored on it. “Let’s go,” you muttered, embarrassed that he had to save you.

The trek to the safe house was uneventful to say the least. Neither of you spoke a word, leaving only the sound of your footsteps and nature surrounding you. It was nice. Or it might have been if you weren’t bleeding out.

When you got into the two bedroom safe house, you expected Barnes to hide himself away. What you weren’t expecting was him to boss you around. “Sit down and take off your shirt.”

“Damn, at least buy me a drink first,” you chuckled, before wincing as you realised how much it hurt to laugh. He wasn’t amused. You sighed and reluctantly took off your top that was now blood stained.

“Jesus Christ, doll,” he murmured after seeing how badly beaten up you got. He didn’t think it was going to be that bad.

“You should see the other guys,” you smirked.

“Yeah because of me,” he grumpily pointed out as he began to clean out your wounds.

You huffed, “hey, I had them on the ropes for your information.”

His hands paused, remembering that line from long long ago. It made him swallow to remember his friend. The friend that left him. Not that he ever blamed Steve for wanting a better life. Not like he blamed Steve for leaving him behind to pick up all those broken pieces.

“You good, tin man?” You prodded, noticing the far off look in his eyes. Instantly his eyes returned to your wounds and his face returned to his typical scowl. “You know, maybe you should smile more.”

“Excuse me?” Barnes raised a brow. No one dared talk to him this way. Well, maybe Sam. But Sam was different.

“You’re excused.” You looked him over. “Maybe you’d have more friends if you smiled more.”

He rolled his eyes as he prepared the needle to begin stitching you up. “Believe it or not, I don’t think that’s the problem.”

“Oh yeah? Then what is?”

“Oh, I don’t know, doll. Maybe the fact that I was a brainwashed murderer.”

“So?” You questioned, not understanding his point. Sure he was a murderer, but now he was a good guy.

“So… no one would want to be friends with me. Plus, it’s not like anyone else could relate to what I’ve been through.”

Looking back, you chalked it up to the pain. That was why you were still talking. That was why you hadn’t shut your big mouth. “I understand what you’ve been through,” you said.

He scoffed, “oh really, doll? Were you subjugated to an electroshock chair that fried your brain? Were you given a hack job to your arm after you lost it after falling off of a train? Were you beaten and whipped and tortured?”

You didn’t say a word. That was probably the most you had ever heard him speak. And he spoke with such anger. It almost scared you.

“Yeah, didn’t think so,” he darkly chuckled, lowering his head to focus on the stitches.

“I was tortured.” Bucky lifted his head to look at you. “Not like you, but tortured nonetheless.”

“It’s not the same,” he dismissed. He couldn’t allow himself to get attached. His resolve had been fading ever since he saw you getting beat to a pulp in that room. He couldn’t allow himself to let you into his life. That was why he never spoke to you. Because he knew that you were too good. You were too good for the world and certainly too good for him. He finished off the stitches, hoping that he could go away now that you’d been taken care of. He began to repack the first aid kit.

“No,” you frowned, thinking. “But I understand your pain.”

“How?” Looking back on it, raising his voice probably wasn’t the best way to go about it. But he was angry. Angry at himself for letting you get this far into his stone-cold heart, angry at you for tearing down his walls like you were the Hulk, angry at the world for being so goddamn unfair.

“You’re not the only one that has been a prisoner!”

“Well, clearly you got it easy,” he yelled back at you, gesturing to your body that had no scars or blemishes besides the ones you had earned today.

You stepped back as if physically hit. You might as well have been with the way it made your heart wrench and your gut twist. Tears formed in your eyes as you recalled all of those horrible treacherous sessions. All of those days you thought you’d never escape.

“You don’t know anything,” you had muttered so low that he probably wouldn’t have heard it if it weren’t for his enhanced hearing.

“Oh yeah? Then what was so terrible you think you could compare it to me? I’m fucked up and you are the image of perfection. How the hell do you think you can compare to me?”

It didn’t register; the fact that he literally just called you perfect. You were far from perfect. You just kept everything inside too well.

You couldn’t believe the words coming out of his mouth. Sure, he wasn’t the best at interacting with people, but—at least to your knowledge—he had never treated anyone with such hatred and disrespect. It hurt. Maybe you were but a metaphorical punching bag for the world to use.

“You don’t know what happened to me.”

“Oh yeah?” Barnes challenged. “Enlighten me.”

He hated seeing you like this. He just wanted to wipe those tears away and apologise. Why was he being such a dick? Realistically, he knew why. He was a master of destruction. Everything he touched fell to ruin. That was the only thing he was good at: messing stuff up.

“I don’t remember having a normal life,” you sniffed. Were you really just going to lay it all out for him? No. You couldn’t. No one on the team knew. Not even Nat or Wanda had known. And you’d be damned if James Barnes would be the first person you told. “Long story short, I grew up in captivity and was tortured.”

He huffed, clearly not impressed. Whatever. You didn’t need to impress him.

You retired to your room, done with his bullshit and done with the shitty day you had. You just wanted to curl up in a ball and go to sleep.

Meanwhile, Bucky had grabbed the USB and plugged it into his laptop. It took a while for all the files to load up, but he noticed right away there were some files about you.

Now normally Bucky wouldn’t pry, but he wouldn’t get the answers anywhere else. No harm no foul, right?

Besides, what could be so horrible that you couldn’t even mention it? He didn’t see any scars on your body, so it couldn’t have been anything like what he went through. And there you were trying to convince him that you knew his pain. Lord only knows how many times someone told him that. Trying to make him feel better or whatever bullshit they came up with. You were the same as everyone else. Just pitying him. He hated pity. Especially from you.

What he didn’t expect to see were detailed reports of missions you had gone on before the Avengers hired you. He never knew about this. It was bad. Definitely not anywhere near the same as him, but still pretty bad.

Senators, governors, influential leaders and businessmen, civilians, you name it. You had quite the red-stained ledger.

Another file led him to a completely different route. It reminded him of the files Hydra kept on him. The ones that recorded his daily moods, behaviours, and whatever they did to him. Except these files were more personal. Almost like a diary. He shouldn’t be doing this, but it’s not your diary, so technically he’s not in the wrong… right?

He spends the whole night hunched over his laptop screen. The further he goes the more horrified he feels. Nothing can explain the way he feels when he gets to the end.

You were eight years old.

Eight fucking years old when that bastard… when he…

It hurt to think about. The detailed descriptions of his twisted sense of love for you. The way he thought that his love could be reciprocated by a child. That man’s mind was twisted. Bucky had half of a mind to go out and torture him himself. The only problem is, he didn’t know where to start. It’s not like he could ask you. To your knowledge, you didn’t even know he knew. He wanted to keep it that way.

Guilt began creeping its way into the crevices of his heart. He had no right to read that. He knew it from the very beginning, but he ignored it. That warning bell, ringing in his head. He ignored every red flag. Too focused on figuring you out to care about how you might feel if he did it.

The next morning, you noticed the USB had been plugged into the laptop that Barnes brought along. You wondered what could be on it, so you opened the laptop without any second thought. After all, these were about to become Avenger’s property. You’re an Avenger. You have the right to look at the files you had stolen.

Your heart came to a stop when you saw the files pulled up. They were about you. They were about a frightened eight-year-old girl that didn’t know any better. A girl that had been through too much to be considered a child anymore.

You slammed the laptop shut, wanting to burn it. Now the secret was out. What you had tried so hard to keep under wraps was now out in the open. He had probably told someone about it already. Your reputation was doomed. Not only that, but you felt violated. A feeling you were all too familiar with. But never from one of your Avenger teammates. You thought you were safe. Maybe he was right. You’ll never escape him. He owns you. You are his. Even dead, his iron grip holds steady.

Bucky walked into the room to see you on the couch. Your eyes were red, brimming with tears. They had a far off look in them that told him you weren’t all there. His heart dropped to his stomach when he saw the laptop sitting on your lap. He was quick to come over to you. He took the laptop and tossed it aside. “Doll? Hey, c’mon it’s okay. You’re okay. You’re safe. I’ve got you.”

You didn’t know why, but you let him hold you as the sobs you’ve been holding in were released. You just wanted to feel safe, to feel cared for. Damn all the consequences. You were screwed anyway.

His hand soothingly ran over your back as you buried your face into his chest.

Bucky wasn’t a touchy person. You knew that. Hell, everyone knew that. So why was he allowing this? Surely he must be disgusted with you. Everything you have done. At least he had the excuse of being brain fried. You had no excuse other than manipulation because you were weak. You still were weak if the state of you sobbing into a man’s chest was any indication.

“We can delete those files if you want,” Bucky mumbled once your sobs had quieted. You furrowed your brows, pulling away from his hold.

“You… you’d let me do that?”

“Of course, doll,” he assured you, gently rubbing his thumb against your arm. Anything to soothe you. Anything to make you feel safe. He’d walk through hell and back to make sure you never had to see anything that had to do with your past ever again.

“Why?”

“Because you deserved better.”

Your lip trembled as you saw the sincerity on his face. “You won’t tell the others?”

“It’s not my story to tell.”

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stuckymonkey · 8 months

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Masterlist

Welcome aboard ⚓🦜

Minors DNI, but you are responsible for your own media consumption.

Requests and asks are welcome! I will try to write them as best and as fast as I can!

about the authour

Angst 🩵 Fluff🍓 Smut🐓

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bucky barnes

sebastian stan

natasha romanoff

buckynat x reader

stucky

stucky x reader

steve rogers

sam wilson

chris evans

kinktober week 1

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dilemmaontwolegs · 2 years

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Unexpected Salvation || Mafia!Bucky Barnes

Summary: Betrothed to an abusive mafia crime lord, Brock Rumlow, you can only dream of escaping his violent tendencies. On your wedding day you find yourself helpless and hopeless - until Bucky arrives. A crime lord himself, Bucky was no saint but to you he was suddenly a guardian Angel and you saw your path to freedom. Warnings: 18+ only, nsfw, physically abused reader, suicidal thoughts, domestic violence, mentions of violence, weapons and murder, unprotected sex, oral (f rec) WC: 8.1k

Bucky Masterlist

This was supposed to be the day that every woman dreamed about and no expense had been spared. The billowing layers of ivory satin and tulle swayed around your legs with every careful step you took, the soft swishing sound only interrupted by the heels tapping on the polished concrete floors.

Your father waited expectantly. His lips were pressed in a harsh line as he held his hand out, beckoning you to take your place at his side even if it was only going to be for a few moments. This was not how you imagined your wedding would be.

The whale bone corset did more than restrict your access to air, it restricted your ability to move. It was another pretty shackle that had been strapped to you, just like the stiletto heels and heavy wedding gown - everything was designed to stop you from escaping.

“Father, please, I can’t do this,” you whispered as he hooked you to his side and pinned you with a cold stare that froze any further pleas.

“You can and you will,” he growled under his breath. “Rumlow is the most powerful man in this State and this marriage will make our family name great again. So, be a dutiful wife and don’t fuck this up.”

You swallowed the sob that clawed at your throat and prayed for salvation as music filled the air, the wedding march. The corset bodice had contorted your body into what was deemed desirable to Brock, but it was a mockery of who you were. The strangers who dressed you had not hidden their laughter as they pushed and pulled at your skin, shoving your breasts high up your chest and pulling at your waist until it bowed into a painful curve. In this dress, you didn’t recognise yourself - maybe that was the only salvation that there was.

Heavy doors swung open and you nearly collapsed at the sound of the hinges groaning with a final plea bursting from your lips. You looked to your father but for the first time in your life you saw fear reflected in his eyes and you cast your eyes ahead to find the doors to the church still shut, your condemnation sealed on the other side.

Dead, brown leaves drifted past your feet on a phantom breeze and you teetered on the heels as you spun around to find the grand doors that lead to the pebblestone driveway wide open. The sunlight streaming in blinded your vision to the man filling the doorway but you could tell from your fathers reaction he was not a welcome guest. A flick of his wrist gave a signal and more men streamed in, this time there was no mistaking who it was. There was only one rival brave enough to interrupt Brock Rumlow’s wedding day.

James ‘Bucky’ Barnes.

There was no time to think as he stepped closer and you saw the halo of light around his head. This was your salvation, he was the angel sent to save you or maybe he was just another devil in a Versace suit.

Your father sensed the change in you and tried to reach for your arm but the horse had already bolted and you were racing across the foyer. Blue eyes widened imperceptibly as you gathered your skirts and ran for him, praying the heels didn’t snap your ankles. Guns were drawn around him but Bucky splayed his hand out, stilling the fingers pressed to the triggers and turning their aim away from you, to your father.

You crashed into his broad chest and his arms encircled you, tucking you into his side and away from the man who had raised you, the man now screaming for Brock’s men that were waiting inside the church.

“Take me with you, please,” you begged as you fisted his expensive suit.

Bucky may have been as much a criminal as Brock but rumour was that he had a moral code when it came to who he killed - no women, no children. You were willing to bet your life on that rumour.

Bucky stared down at you with cold, calculating eyes before he nodded and cast his arm protectively over your shoulders, “Let’s go.”

Your fathers shouts echoed after you and a small crack cleaved in your chest as he shouted at Bucky to give you back. You tried to believe that it was a final gift from father to daughter, that he made it seem like you were being kidnapped, but in your heart of hearts you knew the truth - he was doing what he did best and only protecting himself.

Blacked out Escalades were idling in the drive and Bucky quickly bundled you into the back of one, slamming the door shut before the quiet pings of silenced shots cracked the glass beside your head. You screamed before slamming a hand over your mouth and slid to the floor as the engine roared and pebbles scattered behind the skidding tires.

“You’ll be safer up here with a seatbelt on,” Bucky said with a small amused smirk playing on his lips, but it didn’t reach his eyes. “It’s bulletproof.”

You swallowed the bile rising in your throat and crawled out of the sea of fabric as panic began to swell in your chest. Every breath burned your airway and you couldn’t fill your lungs with the corset constricting your ribcage. A fine sheen of sweat broke out across your skin and you tried to tear through the layers as you tried to get back to your own body.

“Hold still,” Bucky ordered with a commanding voice that gripped you in its snare. His hand disappeared into his suit jacket and pulled out a flick knife, the blade jumping forth before it was aimed at you and he repeated the command. “Don’t move.”

You gasped at the cold touch of the blade against your skin and readied yourself for the pain but it didn’t come. Fabric was torn and ribbons sliced and suddenly you could breathe.

“I couldn’t do it,” you whimpered between the gasping intakes of air that refilled your lungs to the brim. “I couldn’t marry him.”

A warm hand caught your jaw and slowly turned you away from the blur of the world passing by, right into the path of the bluest eyes you had ever seen. “You are going to hyperventilate if you don’t slow your breathing.”

“I. Can’t.” You tried but all you could think about was the look on your fathers face, the betrayal you saw when you looked back. Then the fear began to grow, the fear of what Brock would do if he took you back. “I can’t breathe.”

“You can,” Bucky argued, his hand sliding along your jaw so he could remove the diamond drop earring then did the same with the other. He tossed the expensive pair into the cargo space, atop the mass of fabric he had cut from the dress. “Let go of that fear, doll. You’re safe now.”

“Am I?” His fingers danced around your throat and he frowned as he felt your body tremble beneath his touch, retracting his hands as soon as the diamond and ruby necklace was unclasped. You exhaled the breath you had been holding when he leaned back and you saw those inquisitive eyes asking questions you weren’t ready to answer.

“Yes,” he said quietly as he mindlessly spun a signet ring around his finger, “I won’t hurt you.”

Though you had no reason to, you believed him. You felt safe and he had been nothing but helpful so your rapidly beating heart began to slow. The months of nights spent lying awake and planning an escape finally caught up with you as the SUV sped to some unknown destination and you found your head coming to rest on Bucky’s shoulder as your eyes fluttered shut.

Of all of your plans to run away, this had never been one. You had wanted to escape the mafia but somehow you had run from one boss and right into the arms of another. Strong arms. Very strong arms and blue eyes.

The scent on the pillow immediately told you this was his room, his bed. It was the same calming scent that had lulled you to sleep on the drive here, wherever here was. You didn’t really care, you were just grateful it was anywhere Brock wasn’t.

A smile grew on your face at the thought of the tantrum Brock would probably still be throwing but it quickly dimmed when you realised there were probably a lot of people getting hurt because of it. Brock’s temper was the thing of nightmares and you had been on the receiving end of it enough times to pity those who had to deal with him this time.

You rose from the bed and looked at the tattered remains of the wedding dress in the full length mirror, it looked like something out of a Tim Burton film. You tore what little remained away and kicked it away only to shudder at the new reflection.

Swollen purple bruises littered your skin and left your stomach turning as you slipped into the closet needing to hide his violent touch. Brock was strategic in where to leave his marks, places only a lover would find them. It was just another way to control your life.

Expensive suits and dress shirts hung neatly along the closet walls so you walked further into the room until you found something a little more casual. You were finally successful in finding a plain t-shirt that covered enough skin but you could still tell from how soft the fabric was that it was no less expensive than the rest of Bucky’s clothing.

You wondered where the jewellery was that Bucky had taken off you as you slipped down the stairs to the main floor, following the deep voices. He didn’t need the money from pawning them off but you certainly would if you planned to make a life outside of the mafia. You would ask him at some point, but for now you wanted to know exactly who Bucky was, the type of man he was.

“Well, that didn’t go to plan.” Steve took a seat and sipped his whiskey before he spoke again, “That asshole is still alive and everyone thinks you kidnap women now.”

Bucky huffed a laugh and dropped into his own seat, swirling his own drink around the crystal tumbler as he pondered the turn of events. “It could work in our favour, it certainly sends a statement.”

“Buck, I have never questioned your orders-”

“Please don’t start now,” Bucky interrupted before he rolled his eyes and tipped his head back, waving his hand to let Steve finish.

“That woman asleep in your bed is going to be more trouble than she is worth. He’s going to come for her.”

Bucky’s lips twitched and Steve heard the words that went unsaid, ‘I know’.

“Did you plan this?”

“No,” Bucky admitted as he reached over to the cigar box on the side table. “But I wish I had thought of it. Do you know what his investors will be thinking - the great Brock Rumlow can’t even protect his own wife. They will question his capability.”

“I am not his wife and I never will be,” you vowed with absolute certainty, appearing barefoot in the doorway. “I will die before facing that fate.”

Bucky took your seething words in stride, closing the cigar box and curling his finger to beckon you into the room before patting the cushion beside him. You hadn’t felt threatened by him or any of his men since they saved you so you had no reason to distrust him and quickly crossed the room.

His smile disarmed you as you sat beside him and he trailed his fingertips lazily across the hem of his shirt riding high on your thighs. “After that display of courage today I am inclined to believe you. Not many women would run towards armed strangers.”

“When life gives you lemons,” you murmured, ignoring the heat that was quickly spreading beneath his light touch.

His deep laugh blew warm air across your neck as he leant in closer and spoke with a soft intimacy that shouldn’t have been heard outside the bedroom. “Is that what I am? Lemonade?”

“I guess that depends on how sweet you are.” The sassy words flowed from your tongue unconsciously but the moment they were voiced you bowed your head and murmured an apology.

“It’s late, Steve, go home. I’ll see you in the morning.” Quiet footsteps retreated from the room followed by the definitive click of the door shutting behind him. Your pulse thrummed like a hummingbird as you screwed your eyes shut and waited for the sharp burn of a slap to heat your skin. But it didn’t come. “Open your eyes.”

It took a moment to gather the courage before you could open them and face your punishment. Blinking twice, you were certain your eyes were deceiving you as you saw pity instead of rage, and Bucky reached out slowly to graze the back of his knuckles across your cheeks.

“What did he do to you?” Those azure eyes of his seemed to shred through your physical being and see the broken soul that lay beneath. The intensity of his stare drew tears to the surface, blurring your vision as they erased the composure you had bitterly fought to hold. “I’ll kill him.”

He thumbed away the tears that escaped down your cheeks but more replaced them as you shook your head. “You can’t kill him.”

Bucky smiled darkly, his lips so close to your skin as he whispered his secret in your ear, “He doesn’t know it, doll, but he’s already dead.”

“He has half a dozen men with him at all times, his house practically has an army surrounding it and they monitor the surveillance cameras 24/7.” You sighed and looked away to hide the bitter disappointment written on your face. “Trust me, he’s impossible to kill.”

“He bleeds red just like you and I, so he can die just the same.” Bucky rose from the seat and offered you his hand. “It’s late, we can talk more in the morning.”

You stared at his hand a moment before looking up at Bucky and asking the question that had been building since he sequestered you away from the church. “Why are you doing this for me?”

“A man of my position can hardly be called altruistic, but the way you looked at me today…I wanted to be worth that look of hope.”

He wiggled his fingers and you placed yours on them, letting him pull you from the couch and against his chest. He dipped his head and quickly kissed the racing pulse in your neck, so fast you could have almost imagined it. He stepped back and let his lips curve into a playful smile that had you press your toes into the carpet to stop them curling. “Plus, I couldn’t stand to see a beautiful woman in such a hideous dress.”

You covered your face with an embarrassed laugh while you nodded in agreement. “I know, it was criminal how bad it was. Thank you for tearing it off me.”

He caught his bottom lip between his teeth and your stomach clenched at the mischievous glint in his eyes as he bowed. “I am humbly at your service.”

It was hard to believe that this man was the head of the Romanian mafia in New York, he was just so different to Brock. He made you smile. “I’m not sure you know the meaning of humble.”

You were struck again by that warm laugh of his as he led the way from the room and up the stairs. Although the house was huge and there were a handful of closed doors along the hall that likely hid ornate guest bedrooms, Bucky opened his and ushered you through. Your eyes darted to the bed, still messy from where you had slept between the sheets, and Bucky smirked as he began to remove the cufflinks on his shirt.

“Don’t worry, sweetheart, I won’t do anything you don’t ask me to,” he said.

You couldn’t look away as he took his shirt off and you saw every inch of that hard muscle you had crashed into, the tanned expanse of his skin sculpted like the depiction of gods you had seen in a museum. The dark curls that trickled down the centre of his chest teased a line that disappeared below the belt that he was unbuckling and you tore yourself away, ignoring the chuckle that followed you.

“You can look, I don’t mind.”

The belt landed beside you on the loveseat and you flinched at the sight, twisting away to find Bucky frozen. He looked back at the belt with narrowed eyes and cursed under his breath before swiping it up and tossing it to the back of his closet and running his hands roughly through his hair. He tugged the ends with barely controlled rage but dropped them to his side when he saw your wary step towards the door.

“I’m not going to hurt you, doll,” he said gently.

You looked at the rug on the floor and focused on how the bright colours came together to form the beautiful design as you spoke, “You are angry.”

“Yes, but not at you.” Bucky sat on the edge of his bed, his tall frame no longer so imposing. “My mother had a boyfriend who…he was cruel and a sick piece of shit. I was young, too young to do anything to stop him and one night he just didn’t stop.”

His eyes looked straight ahead but you had stared into the past enough times to know where he truly was. You weren’t even sure if he noticed when you took a seat beside him and placed your hand in his, your thumb caressing his with a comfort you wished someone had given you.

“I’m sorry about your mother,” you whispered.

“I killed him. Took everything that was his, all of this, and I killed him,” Bucky said with a catch in his voice that he cleared before turning to you. “I’m going to hell for an infinite number of sins but killing him isn’t one, and neither will be watching the life bleed from Brock fucking Rumlow’s eyes when I gut him for what he did.”

For the first time in your life you didn’t shirk at the threat of violence, your hands didn’t shake and your skin wasn’t clammy. The small voice in your head that had abandoned you when Brock first laid his hands on you whispered that Bucky was different, that after watching his mother’s assault he would never turn his anger on you, and you believed it. And that thought scared you more than anything.

Bucky watched you silently, as if he could see every thought passing through your mind and saw the moment you needed a distraction from your own mind. “Big spoon or little spoon?”

You frowned as your thoughts were derailed and you blinked his handsome face back into focus. “Spoon?”

Bucky shrugged casually. “I’m a sleep spooner. So, which would you rather be?”

“I don’t even know what that means. Are you propositioning me?”

Bucky laughed before sobering up when you remained serious, then that scowl of his that you had come to notice only appeared when he thought about Brock. “Motherfucker.” Bucky stood up and kicked his trousers off before pulling the sheets back. “Hop in, sweetheart, let me show you what you’re missing.”

You stared at the space he offered beside him and wondered what he was really asking of you. Was this a ploy to use you? Brock had used sex as a means of blackmail and to undermine not just you but the wives of his officers. Could it be a trait shared among the bosses?

“Spooning isn’t a sex position, if that’s the reason you’re looking at me like that. I mean, it could be, but only if you ask nicely.”

The teasing smile eased your mind and you climbed into the space beside him. His body curled against you and his scent enveloped you in a comforting cocoon, even when your spine stiffened at the proximity.

“Roll onto your side, sweetheart,” Bucky murmured as he gently pushed you away. You did as you were told and turned away but the shirt shifted and slipped over the curve of your hip, baring the result of Brock’s violent touch. You tried to grasp at the hem as panic and shame swelled in your chest but it was too late, Bucky caught your wrist and moved it away.

His touch was hesitant but gentle as he brushed his fingertips over the swollen, bruised skin. The tenderness was a juxtaposition to Brock’s savage sadism and a wave of fresh tears filled your eyes as you experienced kindness. You couldn’t remember the last time you felt it.

“It wasn’t your fault,” Bucky murmured softly as he brushed your shirt higher. “None of this is your fault, no matter what that sick bastard has told you.”

You buried your face in the pillow as you heard the words you had tried to cling to in the early days. But months into being Brock’s personal toy, to play with as he pleased, made you think you must have done something to deserve such a fate.

“Tell me to stop, and I will stop.” Bucky’s fingers trailed higher, taking your shirt with them. “No hesitation, no question, no repercussions.”

The word danced on your tongue but you bit it as his thumbs drew soft shapes along the canvas that had been ruined. You weren’t sure when you would feel a gentle touch again so you were going to savour the moment, even if it only lasted one night. “Don’t stop.”

Your body was still stiff and tense, the muscle memory struggling to differentiate the feel of his hands on your skin as it waited for the pain to begin.

“Some of these are old, weeks,” Bucky muttered to himself as he shifted down the bed and rolled you onto your back, looking between the different shades of bruises. “Did your father know that this has been happening?”

“He knew enough to ensure Brock couldn’t use a knife or flame.” It was meant to keep you safer, or at least not permanently maimed, but the restrictions only made Brock angrier. He spent that anger in the only currency he could, with his fist. “Beyond that, I don’t think he cared. The only thing he cares about is money and power.”

“Do you want me to kill him too?” There was no judgement in his eyes as he waited for an answer, he was probably planning it from the moment he stepped into the church, but he was giving you the option. The choice was entirely yours, but you weren’t sure if you had the stomach to give him the answer and he saw your hesitation. “Whenever you are ready, just say the words.”

You bobbed your head, not trusting your voice when you could feel the lump of emotion stuck in your throat.

The tension in your body began to ease as you grew accustomed to the soft, teasing touches of his fingertips and when he brushed his lips over the tender skin across your ribs you actually moaned. The sound was so foreign it took a moment to realise that it came from your lips.

Bucky peeped up from under thick lashes and he smiled at the sound, moving to kiss another bruise as if his lips could erase the memory of Brock from you entirely. “I wonder what other sweet sounds those pretty lips can make,” he mused aloud.

Your head was spinning as you melted beneath him and after he pulled his shirt off you, tossing it to the floor, you made no move to stop him from removing your lace panties. You intrinsically knew if you asked him, he would stop - you were letting him show you how pleasurable touch could be.

Compliments fell from his lips that devoured every inch of you and his blue eyes bled to black as his pupils exploded when he saw your nipples peaked and begging for his tongue. Your back arched with a cry when he took one in his mouth, licking and sucking at the sensitive nub before he gently grazed his teeth over it.

“Bucky, please,” you begged as you buried your fingers in his dark hair, needing more of the ecstasy he was giving you.

More than willing, Bucky moved between your legs and pressed his erection against your core. A throaty moan purred from you and you wrapped your legs around his hips, grinding yourself shamelessly and finding the only barrier stopping you from what you wanted was the thin pair of boxers he still wore.

“Tell me what you want, doll.” Bucky whispered between the kisses he trailed up the column of your neck and towards your parted lips.

“Everything,” you moaned. “Show me everything.”

Two Weeks Later

“Rumlow’s got every one of his men out looking for her, poking their head in our business, asking about a ransom. They are starting to cause some real problems, for not just us, but the Cartel too.” Steve looked wary as he sat in his usual seat. “Tell me you have a plan.”

“I have a plan,” Bucky said, running his thumb across his bottom lip with a dark smile. “I need you to get a message to Brock, if he wants a ransom then he can have it.”

Steve pulled his phone from his pocket to reach out to the contacts that would get the message across but frowned before he could hit the call. “How much?”

Bucky shrugged and made his way to the door. “Pick a number, it doesn’t matter.”

“What do you mean it doesn’t matter?” Steve asked but Bucky didn’t answer, he was already heading back up the stairs where you were still sleeping soundly.

A warm arm curled around your waist and you smiled as you woke to a pair of cerulean eyes watching you. You no longer startled awake, not after the first few mornings of waking in Bucky’s arms. You still occasionally jumped at an unexpected touch but even that reflex was beginning to be controlled. You were healing.

“I want to take you out, go shopping, have dinner, do whatever you want.” Bucky said as he pulled you against his chest and rested his head on yours.

“I do too,” you whispered. It was a nice dream but the reality was you would never have that freedom so long as Brock was alive and looking for you.

“I’m going to take you out, sweetheart. I just need you to trust me first.”

You tipped your head back to see him with a faraway look in his eyes, stroking his short beard to draw his attention away from that calculating place it had gone to. “I do trust you, Bucky, more than I have ever trusted anyone. I know you do bad things, I’m not naive, but you have only been good to me.” You ran your thumb over his lips, remembering the feel of them on your lips, on your skin, between your legs. “I trust you.”

“Good,” Bucky’s tone didn’t sound happy like you expected when he spoke, “because I sent that bastard a ransom.”

A phantom hand wrapped around your throat but Bucky was there, soothing words and calming hands rubbing your back to chase away the rising panic. “Shhh, I’m not going to let him hurt you again, he’s not going to hurt anyone again.”

You let his words sink in and quell the uprising panic, slowing your breathing to match his before you could speak, “You’re going to kill him?”

“I am.”

“How?”

Bucky licked his lips before answering, “Steve will negotiate a handover to your father, the money in exchange for you, somewhere neutral.”

“How are you going to kill him there? And who's to say he will even show up if I’m to go with my father?” You pushed yourself up so you weren’t distracted by his touch. “He will have a small army with him.”

“Brock is a control freak, there’s no way he would miss out on the exchange, he will want to see it with his own eyes.” Bucky sat up to mirror you. “And while he and his small army are otherwise occupied, I’m going to go to make myself at home. That’s where I need your help.”

And helping Bucky is exactly what you did. You gave him the layout of the house, and the gardens, drawing a map so he could plan his break in and where to hide, lying in wait for Brock to return with you. When there was no other information you could think of, you sat back and asked the question that was burning in your brain, “What happens to me?”

Bucky placed his pen down upon the papers and looked into the flames of the fire warming his study. “You will be free.”

It was all you ever wanted but an ache grew in your chest at the idea of leaving Bucky and you had to look away before you asked your next question that you weren’t ready to hear the answer to. “Okay.”

The decision was made two days later, when both parties finally agreed on a disused parking lot far enough from both of their territories that it was considered neutral and also open enough that there couldn’t be an ambush set. Those two days were the worst you had experienced and just the idea of eating anything made you sick with the somersaults and knots in your tummy. Your palms were constantly clammy and not even Bucky’s ministrations could distract you from the fear of facing your abuser again.

“I’m calling it off,” Bucky announced as he settled into bed on the eve of the exchange. “I’ll find another way that doesn’t involve you.”

“It’s all set, Bucky, you can’t cancel now.”

“I can and I will,” he countered. “All the progress you were making…I shouldn’t have asked you to get involved.”

Your hands still shook but you placed them on his anyway. “I don’t want to spend the rest of my life looking over my shoulder, waiting for the day he finds me and drags me back to that place. I have to do this, it is my choice, please don’t take that away from me.”

His eyes screwed shut in defeat because no matter how much he might want to protect you, the trust he had built with you had been laid on the foundations of the freedom to choose. He would never take that away and you knew it. “You should rest, it’s a big day tomorrow.”

You smiled, falling back into the pillows and taking him with you. “I’m not tired.”

Bucky’s teeth flashed with a wicked grin and his hand slid up beneath the hem of his shirt you wore, freezing when it reached the apex of your thighs and finding it bare. “Naughty girl.”

You arched under his touch, his finger gliding between your slick folds before reaching your clit and teasing it with your own arousal. He knew your body better than you did as he made you praise his name with just a few strokes of those thick digits, plunging them into your pussy and curling them to that sweet spot that made you see stars.

“Please, Bucky, I need more than your fingers.”

He chuckled disappeared between your legs, his broad shoulders spreading your knees wide before his tongue delved into your cunt. Your legs trembled as his mouth set fire to your core and he kissed you just as thoroughly as he did with your mouth, dominant and full of tongue.

His name was a prayer on your lips when he brought you to the edge only to pull away before you could come. He could feel the frustration radiating from you when he kissed your inner thigh and murmured, “Patience, doll, when you come I want to feel it around my cock.” He kicked his boxers off and then he was there, filling your vision and sharing a kiss that tasted of your liquid delight.

You both moaned as your tongues danced and his cock stretched your entrance as it filled you. His hips met yours and the orgasm that had been close crashed over you, the bump of pressure on your clit enough to tip you over, but he didn’t stop. You couldn’t tell when one orgasm ended and another began, it was wave after wave slamming into your body and blinding you with the pleasure Bucky had opened your eyes too.

“Fuck, you feel so good, sweetheart,” Bucky praised breathlessly as your walls fluttered and clamped down with each orgasm, the feeling as close to heaven as a man like him would get. “You’re a goddamn angel.”

He was close to finishing; his revered rambling and the loss of his steady rhythm was something you had come to learn quickly in sharing his bed. He would always set your heart racing with the sweet nonsense he whispered in those final moments.

His body shuddered and the pulsing of his cock buried within you sent another tremor of aftershocks through your core before he collapsed above you, resting his head in the valley of your breasts. There was never a hurry with Bucky, and it was this moment that you savoured - when he listened to your heart beat and his thumbs drew mindless circles on your sensitive skin.

“I could stay like this for eternity,” Bucky said as he gently blew cool air across your nipple and smiled as the skin prickled into goosebumps. “I love the way you respond to me.”

You combed your fingers through his hair but kept your own admissions to yourself, knowing this was the last night you would spend in his embrace. Tomorrow, if all went to plan, you would be free.

All too soon Bucky’s cock slipped from your body and you immediately missed the fullness and warmth as his cum ran down your thighs. His eyes watched with hunger and pride as he knelt between your legs and watched it leak from your core, his bottom lip fiercely caught between his teeth.

“Come on, let's get you cleaned up.” The begrudging tone brought a smile to your lips and you accepted his hand as he pulled you up and led the way to the bathroom. “We really should try to get some sleep before tomorrow.”

“Relax, Bucky’s the smartest man I know,” Steve said, looking across from the driver's seat. “He’s got everything all planned out.”

“It doesn’t make the waiting any easier.” You wished Bucky was with you instead of Steve, he would have held your hand and squeezed it reassuringly. You looked at the clock for the millionth time and found only one more minute had passed. “Where are they?”

Steve nodded his head to the southern entrance of the disused parking lot and you spotted the line of blacked out SUVs pulling in, parking in a perfect symmetry to Steve and his men. “How many times have you done this?” you asked as they all opened their doors at some silent signal.

“Enough.”

It took all your willpower not to vomit on the asphalt as you put one foot in front of the other, Steve’s hand coming to rest on your lower back where your hands were fastened by cable ties. It was the first time you had voluntarily let the restraints be placed on you and hopefully it would be the last.

It was Steve’s hand that stopped you from recoiling when you saw Brock step out of his car and start strolling towards you, looking for all intents and purposes as if he was out for a relaxing walk. Your footsteps stumbled and Steve urged you under his breath to calm down as he kept you upright, but that was when you saw your father and the smirk playing on his lips - like he had won.

“Steve, I need you to get a message to Bucky.” Time was running out but you finally had your answer. “Tell him I have no father.”

Steve frowned down at you. “What do you mean?”

“Bucky will understand, that’s all that matters.” You took a steadying breath and focused on your feet. “I know you weren’t happy when Bucky saved me, but thank you anyway.”

“I could argue that you saved him,” Steve admitted quietly. “I don’t think he had any plans to walk out of that church alive - he was looking for absolution by dragging as many of Brock’s men down with him. So, I should thank you. Now scowl and turn to your fiance, he has to believe this.”

The scowl was very real but it wasn’t aimed at Steve.

“One million dollars,” your father said as he stepped forward and dropped a duffle bag at Steve’s feet. “Do you want to count it?”

“I don’t think that’s necessary,” Steve said with a smirk. “If it’s not all there then you will know about it very soon.”

You stepped forward when Steve patted your back gently, swiping the handles of the bag up after you passed it and waited stiffly at your fathers side. “What now?”

Your father sneered down at you and Steve fisted the bag tighter to fight the urge to steal you back. “Someone has to repay Brock for his generosity, that is a lot of money to drop on one woman. Go and show your gratitude to your future husband.”

Bile rose and you swallowed deeply as you walked away from the safety of Bucky’s men and deeper into the army of demons that Brock commanded. The devil himself smiled with a baring of teeth and he opened the passenger door for you, his leering eyes mentally stripping the clothes from your body. “Welcome home, my little pet.”

Bucky will be there. Bucky will be there. Bucky will be there.

You wouldn’t face this alone. That is what you repeatedly told yourself as you climbed into the SUV, jolting at the sound of the door slamming shut.

Bucky will be there. Bucky will be there. Bucky will be there.

Your heart threatened to jump right out of your chest when the SUV turned into the driveway, stopping at the gates so that security could let him through. The drive had been silent but you had noticed the many SUV’s hadn’t followed Brock’s. A part of Bucky’s plan - they were suddenly finding themselves occupied by Steve and his men.

Bucky will be there. Bucky will be there. Bucky will be there.

Brock’s hand was a shackle around your wrist, leading you to the master suite, leading you to your future or doom.

The door was still swinging shut when Brock’s hand tightened around your wrist, spinning you towards the bed and pushing you onto your back before you could regain your balance. “Did he touch you?” There was no room to recoil from Brock’s spitting question as he pressed you into the mattress with his weight on top of you.

One hand snaked up your body and wrapped around your throat and your hips bucked to try to move him as his other hand spread your legs. Tears blurred your vision as Brock growled at the tight jeans kept him from easily taking what he wanted, a reason he never let you wear them when he was around. “Did he touch you?”

Your lungs were burning with the need to breathe but Brock was relentless. Where was Bucky? You had trusted him to be here, he was meant to be here.

The weight was suddenly lifted as Brock was thrown off you and you gasped at the air you could finally pull into your lungs. Bucky’s knife glinted on the floor where he must have dropped it to tackle Brock and now they were grappling on the carpet, raining fists upon each other while you tried to swallow the screams that were brewing.

Bucky slumped to the side when Brock’s fist connected with his temple and you cried out when he swayed trying to rise. You couldn’t sit by and watch the only man who stood up for you die because of that honour so you crawled to his side and curled up against him.

“How sweet,” Brock scoffed, kicking Bucky’s limp foot. “I always knew you were a whore and you know what I do to whores.”

You shuddered at the thought of him strapping you to his table in the basement and taking his time as he marked you with a knife or flame. No one would find your body, no one ever found the girls that were taken out of the basement in the dead of night. That was not going to be how your life ended, you had suffered enough.

“Get away from him. You belong to me.” Brock snapped his fingers and pointed to his shoes, like he was calling a disobedient dog to his side.

Something snapped and your fingers curled around Bucky’s knife as you looked at Brock’s cold, empty eyes. “I belong to no one.”

Brock spotted the knife as you pulled it out and held it at arm's length, the blade pointed to your heart and he lunged as he realised you were going to take away his playtoy. Your body shifted suddenly and the pain in your ribs flared but it wasn’t Brock that had pushed you but Bucky. With a burst of energy he knocked you aside and tore the knife from your hands, deftly spinning it and greeting Brock.

Shock flitted across Brock’s face that ended up so close to yours that you could feel his ragged breaths on your cheek. His lips parted but whatever spiteful words he had to say were lost when Bucky shoved the knife up and into his heart. You could hardly think as Brock’s blue eyes dulled and he was pushed away onto his back, knife still buried in his chest.

Dead, the monster was finally dead.

“Bucky?” His eyes were blinking hard as if to help him focus the stars that were loitering his vision but he managed to pull himself to his feet and help you to yours. “Are you alright?”

Bucky ignored you and looked to the door. “We need to get out of here before anyone comes to investigate the noise.”

You placed a hand on his chest so he stopped and looked at you. “No one will come, they are used to it.”

Bucky closed his eyes and dropped his forehead to yours. “You were going to kill yourself.” His voice broke and he wrapped his arms around you, needing the embrace as much as you did.

“You saved me, Bucky, again.” You pulled away before you could let the flood of tears run free, knowing there was still another battle to face. “Let’s go.”

You looked back as your fingers curled around the door handle, taking one last look at Brock as his blood turned the white carpet red. You should have been paying attention ahead but you crashed into a startled maid with an armful of lace underwear you knew he had ordered for you.

The maid's eyes went wide as she saw Bucky standing behind you, then saw Brock dead on the floor, his lifeless eyes staring at the ceiling. You could feel Bucky reaching into his pocket where his knife had hidden after retrieving it from Brock’s chest but he stopped when the maid dropped the lace, stepped away and whispered, “Go, quick.”

You rushed past her and Bucky quickly moved in front of you in case anyone else showed up unexpectedly, his limp barely noticeable as adrenaline chased away the pain. When you turned back she was already closing the door and using a universal key to lock it from the outside. No one would dare disturb Brock if his door was locked, it meant he was playing.

“Left,” you whispered to Bucky as reached the end of the hall, “there’s a false door beside the laundry.”

He turned without hesitation and when he reached the laundry he took a defensive position while you moved in. This door was only to be used if there was a police raid and very few people could access it, but as Brock’s significant other you were one of them. You opened the false panel and pressed your palm to the scanner, sighing with relief that they hadn’t cancelled it when you were kidnapped.

You let Bucky enter, then followed and closed the door behind you. “It’s about a mile to the river, can you manage it?”

“I’ll be fine,” Bucky assured you, taking your hand and pressing a kiss to it. “How are you?” His fingers traced over the bruises that would surely start to bloom across your throat.

You thought of the dead man lying in his own blood upstairs and smiled despite the aches that plagued your body. “Never been better.”

Bucky looked down the empty tunnel, every fibre of his being telling him to start moving but he needed to do one thing first. His arm curled around your waist and pulled you against him as his lips crushed yours in a devouring kiss that you couldn't help but surrender yourself to. “I..I’m so proud of you, doll. You faced your fear, there’s nothing holding you back now.”

You nodded with a tight smile that you didn’t feel. You had quietly hoped he would ask you to stay, even though you had said that you wanted to be free of the mafia from the very start. You didn’t want to be free of him. “I’m proud of you too, your plan really worked.”

“We aren’t out of it yet,” Bucky said at the reminder, lacing his fingers with yours and beginning the walk to freedom.

It was dark when you emerged from the tunnels to find two unrecognisable cars parked outside. Fear coiled in your belly at the thought that the single taste of fresh air and freedom would be all you had but the door opened and Steve stepped out.

“I was getting worried,” Steve admitted as he greeted Bucky with a hug and sent you a smile. “The money is in the car, it’s all clean and counted, and the package is in this trunk.”

Bucky took the keys and placed them in your palm, the metal cool against the warmth where his hand had been. “Take this, sweetheart, take the car, the money and start a life somewhere far from here. You deserve to be happy.”

Your lips parted but he was already moving towards the trunk of Steve’s car, where muffled cries had erupted from. The words were lost as Bucky opened the back and pulled your father from the back - his eyes widening when he spotted you. The cries increased as he fought against the hold Bucky had but Bucky didn’t notice, he was watching you, silently asking if you had changed your mind.

You shook your head and turned away.

The gunshot was deafening against the quiet night on the edge of the city and you jumped at the sudden sound but refused to turn and see the face of the man who should have protected you from the moment you were born. He had betrayed you in the worst ways and you had no space in your heart to feel anything for him.

As the ringing in your ears dimmed, you heard Steve talking quietly to Bucky, quietly but sternly. Intrigue begged you to try and listen closer but you gripped the jangling keys tighter and tried to push it into the keyhole with trembling fingers.

Footsteps approached and you froze as Bucky’s hand wrapped around yours, guiding it to the door and turning the key to unlock it. His lips brushed your ear as he leaned in close and breathlessly begged you, “Ask me.” He turned you in his arms and pleaded with eyes deeper than the ocean. “Ask me to come with you.”

The words came easily, rolling off your tongue like silk. “Come with me, Bucky.”

“Ok.” His lips curled up into a smile and he reached past you to open the door. “Do you trust me?”

You grinned back as you accepted his hand to ease you into the seat painlessly. “With my life.”

“Good,” Bucky said before racing around the car and slipping into the driver's seat. “This is going to be one hell of an adventure.”

#mafia!bucky #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x poc!reader #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes x you #bucky fanfiction #tw: domestic violence #tw: abuse

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